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About Scapechild

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  • Birthday 04/20/1992

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    Scapechild #1310

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  1. Scapechild

    The Obsidian Dragon. (Chapter 1)

    "Scapechild," he replied. "Though Scape shall be enough." He held his hand towards his face, a small blue stone seemed to appear. He crushed it in his hand before it seemingly transformed into a small bottle fill with a red liquid. "This should help you." He placed the drink in front of Ellara. "You are right that I am not human." Turning towards the red-haired woman. "I am what is known as a catalyst. You see, there are these creatures... ancient, mystical-" he seemed to be looking for a certain word. "Divine! creatures. They were created first by Adven. In turn they created all the other creatures and wove magic into the world like a tapestry. However, when Adven and the other gods saw humans and the constant wars they got in with each other, they became furious. These divine creatures were banished from the world. There but not there at the same time. Forever watching the mistake they made. However, whenever someone is born with a great destiny, these creatures have the ability to touch them. Upon doing so that person's soul syphons some of the creature's divine power. If this person dies before their destiny is met, and they have enough power from one of these creatures they may be reborn as a catalyst. Whoever you were following is dead. I am sorry for that. I am here however, and I think it is my job to follow the clue that was left for me." Scape reached into his shirt and pulled out a crumpled piece of paper, laying it on the table. Nu Martyr of Renovatio
  2. Scapechild

    Tavern of Legend Season 3

    @ChaosEmbrace @Acies ab Vesania @whimsical OOC: I’m out of town for a few weeks so my replies may be a bit short. Bannon stood from his seat watching Taron crash into some of the other patrons. He smiled at the silliness of it all. Once more he grabbed a drink from a passing barmaid and walked over to the group. He sat down next to a man with a bottle of rum. Bannon placed his arm around the man as if they had been friends for ages. He smiled towards the man. “Cheers, mate”
  3. Scapechild

    The Obsidian Dragon. (Chapter 1)

    Scapechild. That name meant something in his land. The scape were creatures of myth, although their existence is truth. They were the first creatures to walk Venneran, and they wove magic throughout; as though it were a large tapestry. By the will of the gods, the scape created more creatures, each one complex and different. It did not take long before the creatures began to fight one another - predators stalking prey. The three races however - humans, elves, and dwarves - did not fight for survival, but over trivial things. The gods did not like this and punished the scape for their atrocities. The scape were stripped of immortality and the ability to reproduce. The scape used their magic to extend their lives by centuries, perhaps millennia. No one really knows how long. They are never to be seen by other creatures. Sometimes when a person with great destiny is born, what is left of the scape will come and impart some of their magic upon that person. When this happens, it is tradition to give them the surname Scapechild. Scapechild slowly stood. HIs arm throbbing with a pain greater than he could ever imagine. He forced himself over towards his sword. Crack! Scape reacted with a swing of his sword, but these creatures felt nothing from the steel. Scapechild on the other hand, felt a burning blade pierce his chest. He was lifted off the ground. The monster staring at him with glowing eyes. In a flash of light Scape was blinded. Moments later he noticed that he felt no blade within his chest. He felt no pain within his arm, or his back. He felt... nothing. "My child." A soft female void spoke out. "Open your eyes." With those words the blinding light began to fade. Scapechild found himself in a white space, seemingly infinite in nature. MIllions of stars lined the skies and even beneath his feet, for he was standing upon glass. "You were killed by an ashen golem. A creature of pure malice. The power entrusted by the creatures of myth you know as the scape, has allowed me to save you. However... as with all things, it comes with a price." Scapechild noticed his reflection within the glass. It was hard at first to make out, but with enough focus he saw his new form. He was younger, much younger - 17 if he had to guess. His hair was now a little longer on the top with the sides and back shaved. He wore clothes that were completely foreign to him. A white shirt, black pants that seemed to close just after his knees, and boots. "Even now the memories of your former self are slipping away. When you leave this place, you will have forgotten it all." "What of my family?" Scapechild began to ask, but then... He didn't have a family, did he? They were already gone. "Close your eyes once more, as I imbue you with the knowledge of your new power. Use it Scapechild, and defeat the obsidian dragon." He closed his eyes at her last words and felt his very soul falling. An intense heat burned in his head as knowledge bore its way inside his memories, before launching themselves throughout his body turning them to instinct. He opened his eyes and dropped a couple feet before landing on the wooden floor of the barn's upper terrace. In front of him was the ashen golem, having been thrown against the wall, beginning to stand. Scapechild raised his hand - palm inward - to eye level. A small, green, semi-translucent stone appeared. He grabbed it and thrust his hand out to the side. The blade and hilt of a sword appeared, floating an inch above and below his fist. He slashed the golem twice before rolling out of the way of an attack. Scapechild smiled as he saw the wounds on the creature. The wounds were not healing. He threw his sword into the chest of the golem, before running up the front of the creature, grabbing his sword in the process. A quick spin in the air, before coming down with a strong slash, removed the golem's head - turning the creatures back into a pile of ash and soot. Along with the remains, Scapechild noticed there were three stones, of similar make to his soul shard. Scapechild, released his sword - it disappeared in an effect that looked as though it shattered - then put his hand out over the stones. They shot to his hand in small beams of light. He once more raised his hand to eye level and another soul fragment seemed to appear. When he grabbed this one it seemed to disappear in the same manner as his sword, only to be replaced by a pair of fingerless gloves already covering his hands. He dropped down from the terrace and left the barn. Looking around at the small village now filled with piles of ash and soot, he noticed the red haired woman. "I see you can kill these golems as well." He said as he walked up to her. "Are you a catalyst as well?"
  4. Scapechild

    Tavern of Legend Season 3

    @ChaosEmbrace The elf took a long deep breath before letting out a small sigh. "My name is Bannon, son of Agrius." I'm certain you have not heard of me, but I can assure you it is truth when I say, I am a demigod." He took a long swig of his ale. "Unfortunately I am cursed at the moment. Well, not so much cursed as... incarcerated. I made my father a bit angry and now I cannot leave this place. I am to help the troubled and the lost here find their way in this world." In a brief moment, Bannon leaned forward, instantly visible that he was no longer drunk. "What brings you here?"
  5. Scapechild

    Tavern of Legend Season 3

    @ChaosEmbrace An elf walked up to the table of a man fiddling with his dog tags. This elf was different than most. He did not have the slender, beautiful look one expects to find. He did not have the glorious hair one usually sees. His ears were longer than most elves, and he had the gait of a warrior. Not an elven warrior though, but one that was more used to brutality and ferocity in fighting. The elf reeked of alcohol. He took a seat without asking whether it was ok or not. "You did not have to do that." His voice raspy as though he had been screaming for days and was trying to force a voice through a bleeding throat. "Turn in your weapon I mean. Your sheath is adequate enough. Apparently they don't count a small leather ring as a sheath. Mine was..." he paused for a moment, turning in his chair to steal a mug of ale from the serving woman behind him. "Mine was confiscated." The elf took a long sip from his drink, leaning back in his chair as if to say he wasn't going anywhere.
  6. Scapechild

    The Obsidian Dragon. (Chapter 1)

    A reassuring squeeze upon Scapechild’s arm sent a sharp twinge of pain up its length. Scape was still trying to get his bearings after the last push from this woman, let alone the battle directions she was ordering out. Thankfully, from years of combat, his instincts would often act before his mind. With this, Scapechild found himself running towards the creatures. The first in his way was the ember husk that stood, missing limbs and seeming frozen while falling. Scape cut off the second arm and moved past it. He knew his mission was not to finish these creatures, but to put them in a position for the woman to do so. A few feet from the creature was the dagger he had thrown. As he started to pick it up, another explosion let loose, making him jump. “Fuck!” He exclaimed, dropping the dagger and cringing backwards. He grits his teeth and picked up the dagger and sheathed it. Scape looked at the 4 enemies left before him. The first was modeling the same ember husk pose as the one before. This time however, it was missing a leg and still had both arms. The next looked as though it had a sort of acid trying to melt through the regenerating ashen flesh of the monster. Quickly Scape moved forward. He took out the other leg of the new ember husk and kept his pace forward. He ducked under the swing of the melting creature and slashed through its torso, cutting it in half. With the help of the acid-like substance, the creature was unable to regenerate and was left in two pieces upon the ground. The next creature had been pierced by a large obsidian shard. For a moment, Scapechild was taken aback by this sight. The obsidian reminded him of the dragon that plagued his home. He pushed this thought aside as the creature ripped itself from the spire. Scapechild used the spire to run up and jump over the creature. A strong slash through the right-half of the creature from shoulder to hip as he came down. When Scape turned around to find the final creature, he was hit by what felt like a boulder and sent through the wooden wall of the building next to him. It was not a boulder however, that hit him. It was the arm of the last creature. With blurry vision he tried to make out his surroundings. It looked like the inside of a barn, with a second-floor terrace-like area. The creature entered the building, its distinct bone-cracking movements echoing against the walls. The creature held a sword no doubt made of the same substance this creature was. A sword fight was something Scapechild was quite used to. He was in pain from the blows he had taken, but his determination rose when saw the creature’s choice of weapon. A few sword swings in and the ashen monster managed to punch him in the face. Each swing of its sword easily deflected by Scape, however the same could not be said of its follow-up attacks. A few more blows and Scape fell to the ground, kicked in the ribs, and then thrown across the room. He pushed himself up, trying his best to ignore the screaming pain of his most likely broken ribs. He saw a ladder to his side and sheathed his sword before rushing to it. Halfway up the creature swung its sword and destroyed the ladder. Scapechild had just barely managed to jump high enough off it to reach the ledge of the second floor. He pulled himself up, slowly but surely. When he made it to the top he looked back for the creature, but it was no longer there. Then he heard the bone-cracking sounds. He turned, and the creature was there, atop the second floor with him. Again he tried to duel the creature with his sword. He pushed himself as hard as he could to move his body faster, relying only on his instincts as a swordsman. In an instant the creature was disarmed of its sword. The creature let out a blood-curdling scream and grabbed Scape by the neck. He was lifted off the ground and pinned to the nearby wall. Trying to gasp for air Scapechild frantically hit the creatures arm. It was no use. The creature was far stronger than he was, and his vision was getting blurry. It would be only moments before he lost consciousness altogether. It was then that he remembered the dagger he had picked up. He grabbed it from its sheath and with three good thrusts he tore the creatures arm off at the elbow. Scape dropped to the ground. Before he could gather his breath or even his thoughts, he plunged the dagger into the creature’s chest and pushed him farther and farther until the creature fell from the second floor. He rolled up his left sleeve and looked at the four runic glyphs etched into his arm. He held his hand out, the third runic glyph beginning to glow. “Vahn’tier!” He screamed, and electricity started to spark around his arm. Then in a flash and a loud boom!, a bolt of lightning burst forth from his hand and obliterated the creature below. Scapechild was sent flying back by the force of his spell. He laid there on the ground for a moment. Knowing full well, that the creature could not have survived that. A severe pain coursed through his left arm to the point that he felt no pain from the other areas of his body that he should. After a moment, he sat up, and slid his way over to the wall. Holding his shoulder, tears began to roll down his cheeks. Scapechild was unsure if he could go on. In the course of a few days his whole world had changed. His prince was missing. His kingdom was being destroyed by an unbeatable foe. He was Adven only knows how far from that kingdom. He was humiliated by being saved by a woman. Knowing his luck, the other person who helped would also be a woman. He was fighting impossible creatures that were after him, with no reason why. To top it all off, he was no longer able to use his left arm. Sure this should only last a few days, but Scapechild was unsure if he would regain its use ever again. He had never had to use two glyphs on the same day and even one glyph is risky enough. The only thing that gave him any peace were the last words his King said to him. “Worry not, Arynorr.” King Brandfire said. His kind eyes reflected within the sound of his words. “You know I hate being called by my first name, your highness.” Scapechild quickly replied. The king smiled at this. “Your brother will find my son. You will find the answer to this legend-“ “And what if the kingdom falls while I am away? How am I to leave Valdrissia in this state?” The king moved closer to Scapechild. “We shall be fine. Valdrissia is not a land. It is not a town. Not a castle or even a king. It is its people. As long as even one Valdrissian lives, so does Valdrissia. As long as you are out there, we are alive. Go. Find the way to defeat this dragon. Save our kingdom, no matter the cost.”
  7. Scapechild

    Seeking 1 on 1 roleplays please!

    Hello! I'm always down for some roleplaying and I don't mind big groups or 1 on 1. My preference is also High Fantasy so I'm sure we may work together quite nicely. I have a few ideas we could go with, but am also curious about yours. Send me a PM and we will talk
  8. Scapechild

    The Obsidian Dragon. (Chapter 1)

    Scapechild stood there, stunned at the woman whom appeared from nowhere. His mind so lost in the moment he could no longer hear the cracking of bone from the creatures' movements. He was unable to feel the cold of the air around him. He was barely even able process the boulder that was thrown at them, only to be deflected by her. He was unsure why he stood there so lost. Perhaps it was because she seemed to come from nowhere, here, where these monsters stood. Perhaps it was because of her beauty that seemed to catch the very air around her, pulling the eyes of all things upon her. Or perhaps it was because he, as a knight, should not have been saved by a woman. The moment her polearm hit the ground, the world came crashing in. The moment he missed flooded his synapsis and snapped him back to reality. "So what's the plan boss?" She spoke with a heavy accent that Scape had never heard. "What the fuck is going on here?" While the question Scape asked was technically directed towards this woman, in truth it was more towards himself. He repositioned himself to her side, yet still slightly in front of her. “The plan is twofold. First, stay close to me. We will have a better chance together than alone. Second….” He paused before nodding his head down the road away from the creatures. “We run.” With those final words Scape looked back at her only to be met by a gaze that stated there would be no running. Before Scapechild could utter another word, he jumped in fright as one of the creatures exploded in into a cloud of ash. A moment later the wind had moved the dust from the air, revealing a mostly broken ember body standing perfectly still. It resembled the same ember husk from when Scapechild had used his runic magic on one, yet this one was missing an arm now. No doubt from the force of the explosion. Scapechild thrust his sword into the ground and pulled a dagger, from the sheath that at the back of his waist. With a couple steps forward and a full force throw, the dagger flew through the air. Unfortunately, Scapechild missed the creature... by quite a lot. Scape looked back at the woman whom appeared from nowhere, only to see her staring off towards the distant forest. Sure enough, there, at the edge of the trees, was the outline of a person. Although it was too far away for Scapechild to see, he knew well enough that whoever it was caused that explosion. The woman shoved Scapechild hard with one hand, sending him crashing to the ground before she sidestepped another rock that was hurled at them. Twice now she had saved him.
  9. Scapechild

    Chronicles of Adven

    Arterius lurched his arm back, freeing it from the girl's grasp. "I said, BE QUIET." He said in an angry hush. "There are goblins in here. I know the stories make them seem all mischievous and silly, but they are nasty, vile, violent creatures. They will not hesitate to rip your flesh off and gnaw on your bones." He then helped Moden up and they began to walk back towards the group. Balthazaar was hunched over a map with 3 other men. One of which was holding a torch up for light. Balthazaar turned his head to see the small group make it back to the party. Before he could speak and loud, shrill screech split the air. The group went on the alert, readying their weapons and standing back to back in a large circle. The woman whom had been rescued secure in the center. "There!" one of the men exclaimed, pointing to a ridge. Standing atop was a single goblin. He was robbed, with a hood. His pointy ears sticking out, a serpent-like tongue flicking in and out. His face was a scrunched mess and his eyes screamed for blood. Once more the goblin shrieked, and a flood of goblins began to enter the area of the cave they were at. From all sides the group was surrounded by all manner of goblins. Some had axes, some had spears. Some had swords and some had bows. Some had clubs and some had stones. They were a tribe of cannibalistic savages. One of the goblins threw a large stone at the group. Moden knocked it away with his staff and then muttered under his breath. A large ball of fire engulfed his hand and with all his might he hurled it towards the goblins. They were not ready for magic, allowing the fireball to land dead center on one of the goblins. The goblin was swallowed by fire, with the surrounding goblins also his by the splash. Another goblin on the other side of the group drew an arrow and released it, hitting one of the men in the calf. As he knelt down, wincing in pain at the arrow, a second goblin threw a spear, piercing the man's head and killing him on the spot. A chuckling laughter could be heard coming from the goblins. Balthazaar took a step forward from the group, drawing an arrow and firing it. The arrow flew through the air and embedded itself deep in a goblins chest. Another arrow was loosed with the same result. Then Balthazaar grabbed three arrows at once. He loosed two of them at the same time before quickly letting the third fly a little further to the right. Three more enemies fell to his quick aim. Finally Balthazaar turned and fired an arrow at the hooded goblin. Another goblin to the side stepped in front and took the arrow instead. The hooded goblin smiled at Balthazaar, amused by the thought that he was attacked. Arterius charged forward with 5 others, swords at the ready. His first opponent was a goblin wielding a large axe. The goblin swung slow and easy to see, yet filled with great strength. Arterius ducked beneath the blow, and ran his sword along the goblins stomach, eviscerating him, before stepping behind him. With a quick turn and a deep slash across the back, the goblin fell. His next opponent had a sword and shield, running wildly at him. Arterius did his best to deflect or dodge the onslaught of wild, unpredictable attacks this goblin was launching. After being pushed back several feet, Arterius slipped on a rock and fell to the ground. The goblin raised his sword to strike down Arterius, only to be met with an arrow to the throat. Arterius looked back to find Balthazaar already sending another arrow downrange to aid the men...
  10. Scapechild

    Chronicles of Adven

    "Bloody hell. What the fuck is this?" Balthazaar fumed. "Mage, get her down before her screams attract unwanted attention." The plump mage nodded and walked over to the base of the statue. His pans that hung from his pack jingled happily until put down on the ground. "To think I'm going to have to use some pixie dust on an errand like this. I'll have to charge Balthazaar the expense." Moden chuckled to himself. "Not like the bastard can afford it. Hold on tight." Moden hoped he was not too loud, but knew his voice had to carry for her to hear him. He reached into a small pouch on his waist, pulling out what looked like pink sand. He spread some on the feet of the statue. Clearing his throat he began to speak in an ancient language. "Avenum etrium balavatasitay! Enetrius bor vanna ala kri-endiat!" The statue broke into many pieces, yet none fell to the ground as they should. Slowly they seems to float their way down until the girl was able to plant her feet on the solid ground. Then, faster than they fell, the statue seemed to put itself together. moden dropped to the ground, winded, sweating, and utterly exhausted. Balthazaar grabbed the arm of Arterius, whom happened to be next to him, and pushed him forward. "Send her home, bring her with us, I don't care what you do. Keep her quiet. She's your responsibility now." Arterius was afraid of Balthazaar, and proceeded toward the girl at once. He didn't find it fair that she was his responsibility now, but he knew she was someone's problem and Balthazaar made it clear that it wasn't his own. Arterius walked past the girl when he arrived to the fallen mage. "Have some water," Arterius outstretched a small round canteen, "take a breather for a moment. I don't think Balthazaar will give you long though." The mage nodded as he took the water and poured it down his throat. Arterius looked back at the woman. "Whoever you are, you have two choices. One, you go that way," Arterius pointed down a long dark tunnel, " and quietly leave this place. OR, you go that way," Arterius pointed toward the group of adventurers, "and you quietly come with us. Either way its dangerous and you need to keep quiet."
  11. Scapechild

    New to the World

    Welcome Howl! I myself mostly play heroes, although the occasional villain is fun to play. I'm sure at some point we will have a great time going head to head against each other. I do have a couple RP's in the work at the moment (they just started though) that will have the need of some villains later on down the line. Expect to get a message from me when I get closer to that point. I feel as though having someone else play the villain will spice up my plans by a lot!
  12. Scapechild

    Old dog, same tricks?

    Hi Ellie, welcome to Valucre! Feel free to call me Scape. It's usually best to start out in the tavern of legend (though you do not have to) and then branch out from there. There's an alternative section where you can have an RP about anything you want, and all the other sections are dedicated to the world of Valucre itself. You are free to post 1 character in as many settings as you want, just try to stay a bit consistent time wise. What I mean by that is that if you are in two different RPs with the same character and you just receive an item in one of them that you didn't have before, you should do your best to manage not using that item in the other RP. Randomly acquiring things like that would break some of the immersion. That being said, its perfectly fine to use the same character. I use Scapechild in many writings here on Valucre. You can also go to the water cooler section and post quests you may want to start to see if people are interested (or just start it where it belongs like in alternative or Renovatio) and then tag OPEN. theres also a section where you can make a profile for your character(s). People are not allowed to comment on the profiles, although you are free to use the reaction button on them. I myself have 2 fresh RPs started. One is set here in Valucre, the other is in the alternative section in a fantasy world of my own. If you wish to join either just shoot me a PM and I'll happily send you the links. Once again, welcome to Valucre! I know you'll love our community here.
  13. Scapechild

    The Obsidian Dragon. (Chapter 1)

    OOC: Read the Prologue here! This is a combination of myself and @Aleksei written within the tavern of legend. Scapechild slowly entered the inn, trying his best to ignore the searing pain that still resided in his lower back. A small breeze amidst the frosty air was all that could be heard. He looked around at the dusty, worn-down, wooden lobby. A few benches for meal time and a small counter to check in at. The odd part was the lack of people. There were no patrons, no beggars, nor was there even a host to greet him. Scape held his scabbard firm, ready to draw his sword if need be. Yet still, there was nothing. "Hello?" His voice was surely loud enough to be heard by anyone that might be here. "I'm seeking a room and a meal. Is there anyone here that can help me?" Still there was no answer. An uneasy feeling crept its way to the back of his neck. Scapechild went back outside. Here too, the small mountain town was empty. There was no one in the small road that passed through the whole town. No children in the streets, no women cleaning clothes, no merchants selling wares. This town seemed utterly empty and yet... Scapechild noticed something quite odd. Down the road was a small building with a makeshift forge attached. This was surely the town blacksmith. The forge held embers as if recently lit. Drawing his sword, Scape made his way down the road towards the forge. He did not like the feeling he got from this place - the hairs on his arms began to raise. Reaching the furnace, he looked inside. Sure enough the embers were fresh. They began to glow brighter, a curious phenomenon. Then a great blast of smoke and ash burst forth, sending Scape flying a few feet back. He scrambled to his feet, picking up the sword he had dropped. In front of him stood a humanoid creature made entire of ash and soot. Every movement of this creature seemed to crack invisible bones. "What the fuck are you?" The creature screamed at him; high pitched, agonizing, and utterly terrifying, the scream seemed to penetrate a person to their very core. Scapechild ran forward and thrust his sword into the creature's chest. It looked at him through the glowing holes that should be eyes. The creature swung its arm, only to be narrowly avoided as Scapechild removed his sword and backed up. Putting space between him and that creature was the plan he could think of at the moment. The creature was not deterred. It began to lurch forward. Each step a crackling and forced mess that would make even the sturdiest of men cringe. Two more swings of his sword - one across the chest, the other through the face, cheek to cheek - with no affect on the creature. Once more Scapechild put distance between the two of them, not allowing the creature a chance to attack. He had only two options left. He could run, or use the ace in his sleeve. Scapechild looked down at his left hand, covered by fingerless gloves. A small glowing glyph began to appear. He thrust his hand towards the creature. "Zephyr!" He called out. A translucent blue wave burst forth from his hand. The force of the wave was enough to cause the creature to take a step back. As well, the black ash of the creature was blown back into a thick cloud, leaving a humanoid shape of ember left standing there. Before there was even a chance that this creature could recover from such an attack, Scapechild made his move. Three more blows from his sword. The creature's right arm cut off, the left leg cut, to drop the creature to one knee, and then he turned the blade around and plunged it through the creatures head. In an instant the creature dropped to a pile of ash and soot. Another high pitched scream shook the air. Scapechild turned to find five more of these creatures walking down the road. That spell that Scapechild had cast, was not something he could do again anytime soon....
  14. Scapechild

    Tavern of Legend Season 3

    @Aleksei (tagged mostly so you could read my exit. It's been a pleasure :P) "The fun we would have if I had more time." Scapechild smiled as he looked her up and down once more. He hastily grabbed the paper and threw it between his chest and shirt. Darting to the doorway, his simple oaken chair fell to the floor with a thud. Scape burst forth from the room and almost fell over the railing of the second floor. To his right he saw the three men. Their eyes met for a moment, and the chase was on. Scapechild ran towards the left and dashed into an adjacent room, spinning around and drawing his sword. Even the best of swordsmen will have a hard time against three opponents. He would have to outwit them to escape. The men flooded into the room. Scapechild had positioned himself in the back of the room, with a round wooden table, and two chairs between them. The man with the battle-axe stayed in the center while the other two began to circle around each side. Scape grabbed hold of one of the chairs and tossed it at the foe to his right whom put his guard up, but was staggered backwards. Quickly turning towards the enemy on his left, their swords began to clash. Three quick strikes and Scape had found his opening. With a quick jab from the hilt of his sword the enemy's nose was broke. Scapechild grabbed his and tossed him into the foe on the right knocking them both to the ground. Scapechild ran and leapt off the table in a dive, narrowly evading the swing of the battle-axe. As he hit the ground he rolled forward in a perfect summersault. His momentum was too much. Unable to stop as he regained his footing upright, Scapechild crashed through the railing this time and crashed through a large wooden table below. It took a moment for the wind to return to his lungs. His vision was dazed and even his hearing had gone dull for a moment. Scapechild slowly pulled himself off the floor, ignoring the crowd of onlookers. He sheathed his sword and made a bee-line for the door. He flew through the doorway and into a small mountain village. This was not the same cobblestone road he had remembered when he entered the tavern. It was no longer raining here, nor was it night. It was midday, with a cold, crisp feel in the air. Turning around confused, he opened the door that had slammed itself shut on his exit. Sure enough, it was a small mountain village inn. No longer was it the great tavern he had been in. Was I dreaming? Scapechild thought to himself. He reached into his shirt and found the piece of paper that woman had given him. Nu Martyr of Renovatio At least he knew where to head next, and the three men were no longer nearby.... (To be continued in another thread)
  15. Scapechild

    Arynorr Scapechild

    [BASICS] First name: None Surname: Scapechild Nicknames: Scape Alignment: Lawful Neutral Race: Catalyst Marital Status: Single Gender: Male Age: 17 Role: Blade [PHYSICAL] Eyes: Blue Complexion: Fair Height: 5'10" Weight: 165lbs Build: Muscular Hair: Short blond, sides and back shaved. Tattoos/markings: none. [MENTAL] Demeanor: Happy, friendly, but a bit naïve at times. Hopes: That he will get to explore the vast world. Fears: He will fail his goddess. Likes: Food mostly. Dislikes: tea. [GEAR] Starting: White Shirt, black pants that close just after his knees, black boots. Current: White Shirt, black pants that close just after his knees, black boots, black fingerless gloves. [WEAPONS] Splinter Sword [STRENGTHS] Very adaptive on the battlefield. Has all the powers a catalyst has. (Currently working on the race page for catalysts) [WEAKNESSES] He can be overly confident at times, and tends to run his mouth in situations he really shouldn't. [SKILLS] Swordplay, hand-to-hand combat (very good fighter, but nothing technical so an actual martial artist would most likely win if he didn't outsmart them or get lucky), can command the powers of a catalyst. [FAMILY] None. As a catalyst, he currently has no family. The closest he has would be his goddess. She is somewhat akin to a mother.