Post by Virdrag Thunderclap on Jan 17, 2008 11:03:13 GMT 10
Name: Virdrag Thunderclap
Age: ??
Gender: Male
Allegiance: Drifter
Race: Human
Class:Warrior
Weapons of Choice: Virdrag carries only one weapon, a large two handed sword that he is capable of wielding in a single hand. While sharp, heavy, and elaborately decorated, it has no current special properties.
Pet:Currently None
Inn:Currently None
Ship: Currently None
Wings:None
Appearance: Virdrag is covered from head to toe in ebon armor. The armor is extremely heavy, and while Virdrag travels slowly with it on, he has customized the arm pieces to allow him to swing freely, even if the speed isn't super human. He has a long cape that reaches almost to his ankles, the outer part of the cape being black and the inner part red. His helmet conceals his face, and he never takes it off. Some say that he is extremely ugly; other say he is a phantom, and others still say that he just doesn't want to be known.
Personality: Virdrag is a mysterious figure, not revealing many emotions or betraying any feeling. What is known about him is that he has a strong sense of honor, and does not believe in striking down those who are incapable of defending themselves. More then once, people have tried to take advantage of this flaw in his code of honor, but he has somehow prevailed each time, showing his fierce resolve and determination. He lives for bloody conflict, his only talent being that for war, and feels most at home on the battlefield.
Role-Play Sample:
The battlefield was soaked with the blood of thousands. Many thousand more still fought on in a bitter struggle, ignoring the piles of dead heaped all around them. If one were to describe the scene, one would say it was a Living Hell, where no man knew mercy. Yet there is a saying, "One man's Hell Might be another man's Heaven". There seemed to be one man enjoying himself in the battle today.
This man was clad from head to toe in black ebon armor, a walking fortress of steel, covered with a cape that was like a blanket of darkness. Although his armor was thick, his movement was hindered, not being able to dodge some of the blows coming towards him. He seemed to have no need, parrying incoming blows with his tremendous sword, then counterattacking to nearly slice his foe in half. After several hours of fighting, the soldiers of the opposing faction backing away in fear.
This man was Virdrag Thunderclap, a mercenary who was beginning to make a name for himself. His black armor was a sight easily recognizable on the field of battle, as were his fighting skills. He enjoyed a good fight, reveling in the sensation of being in combat. However, this joy was not a blood lust that consumed most men. This was the joy of facing a foe head on in the field of honorable battle. He fought for no particular faction, although he was known never to betray any side who currently had a contract with him.
Sighing to himself, Virdrag withdrew his sword from the belly of an unfortunate soldier. The battle was more or less over; his side had won the bloody conflict. The enemy was fleeing in terror, many of it's troops stammering about a black knight. Virdrag payed no heed to these words, although he knew they referred to him. He walked away, his armor clanking heavily as he moved.
"A shame that nothing lasts forever...."
((A Storm is passing))
Age: ??
Gender: Male
Allegiance: Drifter
Race: Human
Class:Warrior
Weapons of Choice: Virdrag carries only one weapon, a large two handed sword that he is capable of wielding in a single hand. While sharp, heavy, and elaborately decorated, it has no current special properties.
Pet:Currently None
Inn:Currently None
Ship: Currently None
Wings:None
Appearance: Virdrag is covered from head to toe in ebon armor. The armor is extremely heavy, and while Virdrag travels slowly with it on, he has customized the arm pieces to allow him to swing freely, even if the speed isn't super human. He has a long cape that reaches almost to his ankles, the outer part of the cape being black and the inner part red. His helmet conceals his face, and he never takes it off. Some say that he is extremely ugly; other say he is a phantom, and others still say that he just doesn't want to be known.
Personality: Virdrag is a mysterious figure, not revealing many emotions or betraying any feeling. What is known about him is that he has a strong sense of honor, and does not believe in striking down those who are incapable of defending themselves. More then once, people have tried to take advantage of this flaw in his code of honor, but he has somehow prevailed each time, showing his fierce resolve and determination. He lives for bloody conflict, his only talent being that for war, and feels most at home on the battlefield.
Role-Play Sample:
The battlefield was soaked with the blood of thousands. Many thousand more still fought on in a bitter struggle, ignoring the piles of dead heaped all around them. If one were to describe the scene, one would say it was a Living Hell, where no man knew mercy. Yet there is a saying, "One man's Hell Might be another man's Heaven". There seemed to be one man enjoying himself in the battle today.
This man was clad from head to toe in black ebon armor, a walking fortress of steel, covered with a cape that was like a blanket of darkness. Although his armor was thick, his movement was hindered, not being able to dodge some of the blows coming towards him. He seemed to have no need, parrying incoming blows with his tremendous sword, then counterattacking to nearly slice his foe in half. After several hours of fighting, the soldiers of the opposing faction backing away in fear.
This man was Virdrag Thunderclap, a mercenary who was beginning to make a name for himself. His black armor was a sight easily recognizable on the field of battle, as were his fighting skills. He enjoyed a good fight, reveling in the sensation of being in combat. However, this joy was not a blood lust that consumed most men. This was the joy of facing a foe head on in the field of honorable battle. He fought for no particular faction, although he was known never to betray any side who currently had a contract with him.
Sighing to himself, Virdrag withdrew his sword from the belly of an unfortunate soldier. The battle was more or less over; his side had won the bloody conflict. The enemy was fleeing in terror, many of it's troops stammering about a black knight. Virdrag payed no heed to these words, although he knew they referred to him. He walked away, his armor clanking heavily as he moved.
"A shame that nothing lasts forever...."
((A Storm is passing))
Accepted! Have fun and sorry for the late acception. Oh and this is temporarily accepted until Poker comes back and over-looks it as well =)
