Post by Dezardin on Jan 7, 2009 21:47:47 GMT -5
-Name: High Captain Dezardin Darksight of the Onyx Hand
-Age: 50
-Sex: male
-Race: Elven, probably would be classified as Fabian
-Height: 6’ 5”
-Description: Dezardin is slender as is the norm for elves, and has short brown hair, though it is never seen for he wears pitch black hood that hides his face. He has ice blue eyes that glow with an unnatural malice from the depths of his hood. The rest of his clothing is a full suit of spiked plate – which includes a large set of pauldrons - and is a matching black to that of his cowl. He wears a black cloak trimmed with blood red scroll work. Over his shoulder he wears a massive black greatsword named Miserth, or misery. He rides a black charger named Wrath.
-Melee Weapons: Dezardin’s favored and almost only melee weapon is his massive greatsword named Wrath. Its hilt and blade are both pitch black. The only variation from black is a deep red gem set in the pommel. It has wickedly jagged edges. The sword in all is about 6 feet long. Dezardin is a master of his weapon and is unrivaled in skill among his peers. He also carries two daggers for small spaces.
-Ranged Weapons: none
-Orb magics, other magics, and enchanted weapon magics: Dezardin has learned dark magic during his discipleship of Fabian (he primarily manipulates shadows for use in combat and can temporarily raise an undead guardian if there are bones about). his sword holds a dark magic enchantment so that it "drinks" (absorbs) blood on contact and the more blood it takes in the lighter in weight it gets. When not used it gradually becomes heavier.
Additional skills: Dezardin is also very skilled in poisons and in the art of manipulation
-Weaknesses: He has no ranged weapons and is at a disadvantage in closed spaces. He also doubts his path in life.
-Alliance: Dezardin is part of a once tight knit group of soldiers, a military force named the Onyx Hand. Their mission is to further Fabian’s plans. However their tight knit has recently become a loose affiliation.
-Brief History: As a young man Dezardin lived in the rural regions of northern Gorgraz. He began wondering at 15 and found himself among the Onyx Hand, a military organization serving the will of Fabian. He enlisted and began his discipleship to Fabian. Amongst other activities, in Fabian’s service he was tutored by masters of swordplay and dark magic. He became good at his work and was promoted to captain. He served faithfully in the orc invasion and following wars. But then when Balthazar came the Onyx Hand ran into issues. Many knights felt that the Onyx Hand should journey to join Balthazar while the other felt they should remain with Fabian. Dezardin supported Fabian faithfully but in the end it was a moot point. A split occurred and the knights who supported Balthazar left to join him. To stop such heresy, a strike was ordered on the “deserters.” Dezardin was chosen to lead this strike. The strike went according to plan, but it also forced Dezardin to end up killing his best friend and mentor, High Caption Galdine, leaving seeds of doubt about his ways as well as emotional scars. The scars were further aggravated by the fact he was chosen as Galdine’s replacement. He is currently roaming in search of what Fabian wishes next.
-Sample Role Playing: “They’re approaching from the east as predicted, sir. They’ll be here in about five minutes.” The soldier waited for Dezardin to nod before scurrying off to mount his horse alongside his comrades. Dezardin turned back to the gully in front of his contingent and signaled over his shoulder for the two groups of flankers to move off to their position. For several minutes it was still, but then men began appearing over the opposite hill top, progressing carefully as if they were expecting an ambush. As well they should, thought Dezardin. Filthy traitors. In the dark of the almost new moon it was hard to make out their exact numbers but it wouldn’t matter. Fabian would favor Dezardin’s men for they were following his will. He drew his sword and signaled the charge. As one his group of men dug in their heels and charged forward. They advanced several yards before the first traitor made them out. Instantly the enemy’s careful advance turned into a retreat as men began shouting. That was the moment that the flanking group slammed into the group from the sides. Dezardin’s main group drove into the chaos and soon it was a massacre. Adrenaline surged through Dezardin’s veins as he hacked through the traitors that came near. The loyal forces ripped the deserters apart with very few losses very quickly. Victory seemed imminent and he was about to ride back to supervise the end when someone managed to pull him from his saddle. He rolled to his feet in time to narrowly block the bloody edge of a massive blade… a very familiar black blade. One look at the jagged edge was enough for him to be sure it was Miserth. “Master Galdine?!?” gasped Dezardin, hardly able to believe it. “You’re one of the deserters?!?!” In answer Galdine attacked furiously. Dezardin gave ground for a while, stunned, but soon regained his focus. Tired as he was there was no way he could defeat his mentor in one on one combat. So instead he came up with a plan. He spotted a dead horse with the corner of his eye and circled towards it with the feigned desperation of a man who is expecting a quick death. Purposefully he tripped backwards, landing atop the slain beast. Galdine advanced to straddle him and brought Miserth up into position to stab him. Nervously Dezardin waited until the moment Galdine began to bring his sword down and then threw his torso to the side, narrowly avoiding the jagged blade. The blade became snagged on the sinew of the beast as planned. As Galdine tugged on the blade Dezardin kicked him in the fork of the high captain’s legs and sat up, slamming the pommel of his blade into his mentor’s chest, knocking him flat on his back. Using his momentum Dezardin continued forward onto his feet, grabbing Miserth over his shoulder with his free hand and continued forward swinging both blades high and slicing into the stunned Galdine’s shoulder on both sides of his neck, nearly cutting him to the waist. Dezardin leaned on the two swords for a moment breathing heavily. Gradually he became aware that his surroundings were quiet. He looked up and realized that all his men were looking at him in a manner that indicated they had seen the end of his duel. His had been the last fight to finish. Drawing himself up into a small measure of composer he gave orders. “Find our fallen and search for signs of anyone fleeing. There must be no survivors. Kill any captives. Any horses should be corralled and taken with us.”
“One moment please, captain.” Said one of the men and stepped forward. He removed his helm and Dezardin gasped, kneeling quickly.
“High Lord Shathn! I wasn’t aware you had come.”
“I know Captain,” replied the High Lord. “I came as a regular soldier so as to observe your leadership. He nodded to the body with two swords sticking up from it. I see I needn’t reveal who led this rebellion, Dezardin. I’m glad to see that you had the strength to finish the task. For that is why you were chosen to lead this expedition. Only through trial by combat to the death may one obtain the rank of High Captain. Congratulations on the success of your battle and promotion, High Captain Darksight. Shathn turned and sent the soldiers on their way then turned back to Dezardin. “You will assume your new rank upon return to the base. Oh and Dezardin…. That sword belongs to you now by right. Use it well.” With that he left. Dezardin turned to the body and pulled the sword out hesitantly. Looking down at his mentor and friend a single tear fell from his face. One sentence was whispered before he turned to go about his duties.
“I’m sorry master.”
(srry my sample got a bit long... wanted it to fully clarify the position he's in now)
(also... I hope its ok that I made up an organization affiliated with Fabian. I'm not rlly gonna use them that much i just wanted them for history and association usage.)
-Age: 50
-Sex: male
-Race: Elven, probably would be classified as Fabian
-Height: 6’ 5”
-Description: Dezardin is slender as is the norm for elves, and has short brown hair, though it is never seen for he wears pitch black hood that hides his face. He has ice blue eyes that glow with an unnatural malice from the depths of his hood. The rest of his clothing is a full suit of spiked plate – which includes a large set of pauldrons - and is a matching black to that of his cowl. He wears a black cloak trimmed with blood red scroll work. Over his shoulder he wears a massive black greatsword named Miserth, or misery. He rides a black charger named Wrath.
-Melee Weapons: Dezardin’s favored and almost only melee weapon is his massive greatsword named Wrath. Its hilt and blade are both pitch black. The only variation from black is a deep red gem set in the pommel. It has wickedly jagged edges. The sword in all is about 6 feet long. Dezardin is a master of his weapon and is unrivaled in skill among his peers. He also carries two daggers for small spaces.
-Ranged Weapons: none
-Orb magics, other magics, and enchanted weapon magics: Dezardin has learned dark magic during his discipleship of Fabian (he primarily manipulates shadows for use in combat and can temporarily raise an undead guardian if there are bones about). his sword holds a dark magic enchantment so that it "drinks" (absorbs) blood on contact and the more blood it takes in the lighter in weight it gets. When not used it gradually becomes heavier.
Additional skills: Dezardin is also very skilled in poisons and in the art of manipulation
-Weaknesses: He has no ranged weapons and is at a disadvantage in closed spaces. He also doubts his path in life.
-Alliance: Dezardin is part of a once tight knit group of soldiers, a military force named the Onyx Hand. Their mission is to further Fabian’s plans. However their tight knit has recently become a loose affiliation.
-Brief History: As a young man Dezardin lived in the rural regions of northern Gorgraz. He began wondering at 15 and found himself among the Onyx Hand, a military organization serving the will of Fabian. He enlisted and began his discipleship to Fabian. Amongst other activities, in Fabian’s service he was tutored by masters of swordplay and dark magic. He became good at his work and was promoted to captain. He served faithfully in the orc invasion and following wars. But then when Balthazar came the Onyx Hand ran into issues. Many knights felt that the Onyx Hand should journey to join Balthazar while the other felt they should remain with Fabian. Dezardin supported Fabian faithfully but in the end it was a moot point. A split occurred and the knights who supported Balthazar left to join him. To stop such heresy, a strike was ordered on the “deserters.” Dezardin was chosen to lead this strike. The strike went according to plan, but it also forced Dezardin to end up killing his best friend and mentor, High Caption Galdine, leaving seeds of doubt about his ways as well as emotional scars. The scars were further aggravated by the fact he was chosen as Galdine’s replacement. He is currently roaming in search of what Fabian wishes next.
-Sample Role Playing: “They’re approaching from the east as predicted, sir. They’ll be here in about five minutes.” The soldier waited for Dezardin to nod before scurrying off to mount his horse alongside his comrades. Dezardin turned back to the gully in front of his contingent and signaled over his shoulder for the two groups of flankers to move off to their position. For several minutes it was still, but then men began appearing over the opposite hill top, progressing carefully as if they were expecting an ambush. As well they should, thought Dezardin. Filthy traitors. In the dark of the almost new moon it was hard to make out their exact numbers but it wouldn’t matter. Fabian would favor Dezardin’s men for they were following his will. He drew his sword and signaled the charge. As one his group of men dug in their heels and charged forward. They advanced several yards before the first traitor made them out. Instantly the enemy’s careful advance turned into a retreat as men began shouting. That was the moment that the flanking group slammed into the group from the sides. Dezardin’s main group drove into the chaos and soon it was a massacre. Adrenaline surged through Dezardin’s veins as he hacked through the traitors that came near. The loyal forces ripped the deserters apart with very few losses very quickly. Victory seemed imminent and he was about to ride back to supervise the end when someone managed to pull him from his saddle. He rolled to his feet in time to narrowly block the bloody edge of a massive blade… a very familiar black blade. One look at the jagged edge was enough for him to be sure it was Miserth. “Master Galdine?!?” gasped Dezardin, hardly able to believe it. “You’re one of the deserters?!?!” In answer Galdine attacked furiously. Dezardin gave ground for a while, stunned, but soon regained his focus. Tired as he was there was no way he could defeat his mentor in one on one combat. So instead he came up with a plan. He spotted a dead horse with the corner of his eye and circled towards it with the feigned desperation of a man who is expecting a quick death. Purposefully he tripped backwards, landing atop the slain beast. Galdine advanced to straddle him and brought Miserth up into position to stab him. Nervously Dezardin waited until the moment Galdine began to bring his sword down and then threw his torso to the side, narrowly avoiding the jagged blade. The blade became snagged on the sinew of the beast as planned. As Galdine tugged on the blade Dezardin kicked him in the fork of the high captain’s legs and sat up, slamming the pommel of his blade into his mentor’s chest, knocking him flat on his back. Using his momentum Dezardin continued forward onto his feet, grabbing Miserth over his shoulder with his free hand and continued forward swinging both blades high and slicing into the stunned Galdine’s shoulder on both sides of his neck, nearly cutting him to the waist. Dezardin leaned on the two swords for a moment breathing heavily. Gradually he became aware that his surroundings were quiet. He looked up and realized that all his men were looking at him in a manner that indicated they had seen the end of his duel. His had been the last fight to finish. Drawing himself up into a small measure of composer he gave orders. “Find our fallen and search for signs of anyone fleeing. There must be no survivors. Kill any captives. Any horses should be corralled and taken with us.”
“One moment please, captain.” Said one of the men and stepped forward. He removed his helm and Dezardin gasped, kneeling quickly.
“High Lord Shathn! I wasn’t aware you had come.”
“I know Captain,” replied the High Lord. “I came as a regular soldier so as to observe your leadership. He nodded to the body with two swords sticking up from it. I see I needn’t reveal who led this rebellion, Dezardin. I’m glad to see that you had the strength to finish the task. For that is why you were chosen to lead this expedition. Only through trial by combat to the death may one obtain the rank of High Captain. Congratulations on the success of your battle and promotion, High Captain Darksight. Shathn turned and sent the soldiers on their way then turned back to Dezardin. “You will assume your new rank upon return to the base. Oh and Dezardin…. That sword belongs to you now by right. Use it well.” With that he left. Dezardin turned to the body and pulled the sword out hesitantly. Looking down at his mentor and friend a single tear fell from his face. One sentence was whispered before he turned to go about his duties.
“I’m sorry master.”
(srry my sample got a bit long... wanted it to fully clarify the position he's in now)
(also... I hope its ok that I made up an organization affiliated with Fabian. I'm not rlly gonna use them that much i just wanted them for history and association usage.)