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  1. Posted. Had a bit of an issue digging up my old sheets. I'm running some backup to retrieve them, but I won't be able to get the sheet up until morning.
  2. Congrats, and totally understandable. For longevities sake, we'll run Violeta into the background as a sort of figurehead incase you ever change your mind, unless anyone else wants IC control of the character.
  3. Hydra's Haven, such a fitting name for the cataclysmic maw. He could recall memories of people fleeing from the beast years ago, as clear as day, but never would have guessed that it's grave would become home to so many people. Not that he was one to talk, a former hero turned nomad, a traveler amongst worlds, whom traveled here originally by accident. Some might say he was washed up, but he liked to think of it as taking a break. He'd returned to Taen to stay a while this time, maybe even finally build his treehouse and hang around. Who knew, surely not the fool who sprawled across the ground like a bum. Smoke forced his left eye shut as Joshua exhaled, peering at his watch to check the time. It was almost time to get the expedition under way, and dreading another ride on one of those death balloons, Josh took another hefty drag off of his cigarette before climbing onto his feet. He could see the group gathering, preparing for departure, and quickly filed in behind some kind of lizard person. He didn't say a word, or even shoot a glance around. He was here to see the valley like everyone else. Truthfully, excitement stirred inside him, although you couldn't tell by looking at his stern face. His hair was butched, white, and wirey. His face was that of a soldier, and his wardrobe was... Well, rather pathetic, befitting a beggar at best. Still, he settled in and greeted everyone with a humble nod after getting cozy. A smile slid across his face as he lied to everyone, providing them with a false name. "Ouros, Wendolyn, and ummm... Farmer? How's it hanging? Jonathan Grandin. Pleased to meet you." He introduced himself cheerfully, saluting everyone lightheartedly with his pointer and middle fingers pressed together.
  4. @Ataraxy I'll get some lore built up and run it by you relatively soon (within a few days). I figured I'd roll with the biblical reference thing a bit and kind of work that into the background. @ticklefarte Welcome to team Gamboor, I look forward to working with you once we kick this shindig off.
  5. No problem. I'll have my sheet and a post up before that.
  6. Here's my character sheet. D.Lord candidate for 4.
  7. Name: Gamboor Nickname: The Judge Race: Archon Homeland: Nede Gender: Male Age: 1,000 + Height: 8'2 Weight: 400 + Appearance: Facial features: Sorrowful, serious cheek lines, sturdy nose and jaw. Thick and stern brow. Large, deep eyes. Eye color: Changes between blue in the light, and orange in the dark. Hairstyle: Unclean, thick and long brown ponytail. Thick, curly beard and wirey mustache. Physical build: Generally thick, strong and toned. Bulky chest line, broad shouldered, with a strong back and legs. His weight fluctuates frequently when he fasts to purge his body, causing him to grow weak and malnourished. Apparel: Gamboor is often seen in a ceremonial set of armor which seems crystalline in appearance, like a solid silver rock. The armor, while truly girthy, only covers the mid, and right side of his chest, joining a gauntlet along his right arm and leaving the left unprotected. Ornate leggings meet an armored girdle at his mid section. He wears a biege robe which covers his abdomen, and drapes beneath the girdle over his leggings. Character abilities: Archon magic: Shaping and manipulating light and darkness (even as weapons), as well as generating physical force pockets (Pressurized explosions, vorpal orbs, etc.) Purification: Gamboor's Archon light can purify objects it passes over. This can be used to mend wounds, or maim foes, depending on the intent of one's will. This is not alignment based and works against undead and holy beings. Beams are capable of piercing solid objects with ease and can slice through magic. Corruption: Gamboor can generate and spread shadows which can infect a victim with hysteria by enveloping them. Foes can be consumed by these shadows, and pulled into the living corruption. This corruption can take a physical presence, creating beasts or even being used as a weapon. Gamboor is able to take a corrupt form, allowing the corruption to seep from him and becoming a shadow himself. Archon flight: Gamboor reveals multiple sets of wings made of light and darkness, allowing him to take flight. These wings can be used to cast magic, as well as form barriers and attack opponents. Character History: Much was forgotten, lost in the aftermath of a lawless world. Corruption spread as if it had always been, emerging in the reflection of Abel. Demons. They drained the lands of deific remnants, growing in power, gathering wisdom. This wisdom birthed a hunger, of itself, and with time the forms developed intelligence; civility. Gamboor was after the rise of Abbadon, the city of knowledge, and lived to see it's fall. Very few retained knowledge of any gods at all, most forgetting it through divinations last act, but some demons grew empowered by this knowledge. These beings began to gain humanity, learning to value life and wanting to preserve it at all costs. War was the cost, between these new beings, The Archon, and The Children of Abel. Abbadon was split overnight, and destroyed the next. The Children of Abel could not claim the city of Abbadon, being forced out of the northern mountain and into Nede. The Judge Gamboor used his knowledge to form a barrier of light, turning his body into a mystic gem that kept the darkness back, swearing that one day the Archon would rise from Abbadon and punish those who scorned humanity. The barrier grew thin, and the eternal gemstone split after Nede entered the mortal realms. Gamboor had awakened as a result of the merging of worlds. The Archon had perished, leaving Abbadon in ruin, and Gamboor forgotten and alone. Mourning the loss of his kin, and seeking vengeance, Gamboor left the mountains, seeking to avenge his clan at any cost.
  8. I'm afraid that I have my hands tied with work at the moment. If someone else wants to post the interest thread I've no problem with that. If not, I'll have something up by the end of the weekend.
  9. Poor choice of wording on my end, I meant that it seemed more elongated, less rounded, but then I realized that my phone probably condensed the image. I'll be getting a new sheet together for this one, I'll link it in a few hours.
  10. Probably 4 because it seems the most outstretched. I'm willing to shift to any zone if needed though.
  11. Well, tickle me pink. I'd be interested in entering the running for a position as a Lord. High powered magic is definitely my cup of tea.
  12. Gimme a little longer to plan the details. I'll have an interest check up within 24-48 hrs.
  13. I'm game to help man the grill. Nothing like the smell of fresh jungle bacon, after all.
  14. The rust bucket fought steadily, harder than anyone other than a pilot could imagine. The lip work in the background was irrelevant; a surefire thing. Vibrations pained his forearms as the captain clenched his teeth and remained silent. He sat forward quickly, keying in on some unknown factor, transfixed on it. 'One..' "HYYYAGUGUGUGUGUG!!!" The haul was screaming now; non-stop. Something was off, but the lad couldn't be certain of what yet. He scrambled for his harness, ejecting the belt and struggling between the choppy lot of turbulence to remove his coat. The white hairs on his neck stood on end for a moment. 'Eight..' "I hate turbulence..." "I said, I th... HAAAGUGUGUGUGUG!" The others carried on around him, and still, he remained silent. The craft stiffened, the conversations being held had become as clear bells now. It wasn't until right before the strike that he could confirm his suspicion. Distant at first, growing in immensity and drawing a tangent. He couldn't wait to find the source of power; to clash his raging will against it's own. A sudden flash caused his view to darken, the pilot's shades autonomously shifting to black in the presence of the bolt in order to safeguard his sight. The blaring sound of the thunder hardly seemed to pull his nerve, it was the explosion above that snapped him to attention. He ditched his coat, letting it go to the storm as he grabbed the wheel and killed the engine. He buckled his harness together again in just enough time to save himself from being ejected, and pulled heavily with the storm; rolling the sinking ship with the wind and into it's maw in order to avoid being torn apart by collision against it's savage currents. It was in his nature, like many outsiders, to bend and break the molds of this world; pushing yourself beyond the precipice of all that you once knew, and beyond the things that you learned as you pressed along. In any situation, you had to adapt, and accept that things had gotten out of control. In short, you began to expect the unexpected, and found ways to regain that control. A series of bolts whipped the horizon, focusing towards a central point which pulsed dimly. Vectors appeared on his hud, forcing a glance towards the strobing object that was closing distance; getting bigger as it approached. A keen eye could discern it as a mechanical orb, drawing from the storm as it circled, heading quickly up the rear and tearing through debris which appeared to orbit it in spherical revolutions. The hull creeked in pain as it entered the whirlwind, the sheer pressure blasting the pilots white hair upward as the ship began to fall apart. A bright light shone from the core of the sphere, forming a sigil which the captain mimicked with his right hand, and as it enveloped the sinking ship, a complex spell formed. The sounds of the storm dampened, echoing off of the outer barrier that warded the crew from being torn apart. The orb floated beside the ship, helping it level within the magnetic field around them. The raging winds danced around for a moment, and the captain sighed in relief. His hair remained windswept, dropping a few strands here and there onto his black tank top, which fell further as he held his thumb up. It was apparent now, why they had hired him. The captain was a mediocre pilot at best, but he was one hell of a mage. Before he could check on anyones safety, a landmass loomed ahead, catching him by surprise and forcing him to scoff. There was no way he could save them from collision, he could only hope that the arcane core would absorb the impact. With another sigh, the pilot cursed a few times under his breath and readied to go down with the ship.
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