Showing posts with label Deceased. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Deceased. Show all posts

KALAI~JASAR*


The Blue Condor Twins
KALAI  &  JASAR
------------------------------------------
Ht: 6'11  /  Wt: 200  /  Hair: black  /  Eyes: blue
Age: 34  /  Creed: Sankarite  /  Status: DECEASED

One of Captain Goran di Frezzi's famous lieutenants aboard El Tiburon was a hulking, long-limbed, dark-skinned mystic from the jungle kingdoms of Sankar. Swathed in indigo silks and wearing a beaked helmet, the man known as The Blue Condor served in the Company of the Hook since the early days.

Wielding two massive saw-toothed katar blades with his long sinewy arms, his hunchbacked silhouette earned him his avian epithet. He was also known to wield an exotic five-bladed whip-sword (urumi), and a number of spinning metal darts.

In spite of his looming presence, Kalai-Jasar was often terrifyingly stealthy, always appearing where least expected, and seemingly able to traverse the length of the ship in the blink of an eye. 

Some say he was a slave sworn to di Frezzi's service, while others believed him to be a demon in human form, waiting to carry the Captain's soul to hell.

AMADEO BRONZANTI*


mage, alchemist, engineer, would-be god

Don  A M A D E O   B R O N Z A N T I 
Cyron Imperial War Magus of the Protean Order, 
Warden of Obrau, Lord of Castle Dreist
---------------------------------
Ht: 6'5  /  Wt: 200  /  Hair: white /  Eyes: brown
Age: ~600  /  Creed: Capracian /  Status: *UNKNOWN (previously Deceased)


With a steady clicking noise of unseen machinery, a gilded grate in the wall slid open and a fluted brass wheelchair emerged from within, trundling along recessed channels in the tiled floor. 

Piled upon the chair was a dark mass of opulent robes and quilted blankets. From their folds protruded a man's head, bald and shriveled, lending the hunched figure a silhouette not unlike an obese vulture.  
His skin was brown like old leather webbed with creases and cracks, and stretched over the all too visible contours of his skull. His thin iron-grey hair looked like it had perhaps once been luxuriant, but it had long since retreated in infantile wisps to the furthestmost regions of his scalp. The sparse remains of his beard were neatly trimmed, lending his gaunt face a faded vestige of masculine severity. 

The robes were a deep rich wine colour, hemmed with a splendid bronze-hued brocade. Around his scrawny neck he wore an ornate copper gorget - a grandiose accessory which may or may not have served to hold the weight of his head upright.

The whites of his eyes were so densely bloodshot, they seemed to blend with the brown irises, but his pupils remained sharp and black... 



Amadeo Bronzanti was both a relic of a bygone era and also a radical proponent of new and terrifying sciences. As a retired Imperial Magus in the last days of the old Cyron Empire, he hid himself away from the world, extending his life unnaturally, and conducting his secret experiments in his tower high atop Mount Donnerquell. This was all in preparation for the day he planned to make himself a god and lead humanity into a new dawn. 

Bronzanti employed many sorcerous, alchemical, and technological methods to prolong his lifespan. While these did not quite grant him the immortality he craved... it did transform him into something not entirely human.  

YAROON*

 
The Awakened 

Y A R O O N
brain-eater, warper of minds, would-be tyrant 
------------------------------
Ht: 6'7  /  Wt: 150  /  Skin: mauve  /  Eyes: black
Age: 5000+  /  Creed: ?  /  Status: *DESTROYED


The thing calling itself Yaroon was a psychic monster of tremendous malevolence and power. It made its lair in a cave system far beneath what is now the city of Oranda. There, It was bound by Unseelie sorcery for untold centuries, until It was finally freed by the Bletcher Fellows, and recruited to the cause of the Black Sun.

Awakened from Its long slumber, Yaroon mentally controlled simple-minded subterranean monsters and send them forth into Oranda serve It. Weakened with hunger and the winter cold, Yaroon regained strength by consuming the living brains of humans kidnapped by the minions It enslaved. 

The CIRCLE of the COPPER GOBLET*


The Tavern of Blood

There are many drinking establishments in Ladroa, both high and low, but even most locals have never heard of the Copper Goblet. This tavern on a narrow, ill-traveled Arcmacenes sidestreet is mostly beneath notice - an unremarkable hole-in-the-wall, with only a crooked and mostly illegible signboard to indicate its presence. 

Behind the shabby cellar door, one once found a small, dank basement space located under a disused warehouse. Here, both the ambiance and the patrons seemed musty and unwelcoming to newcomers, and this is how they preferred it. 

AGILA


Swordsman, criminal, murderer

A G I L A
------------------------------------------
Ht: 5'9  /  Wt: 105  /  Hair: black  /  Eyes: red
Age: ~300  /  Creed: Vaara (secret)  /  Status: DECEASED (?)

The mysterious hidalgo known as Agila has a dark reputation that manages to stand out even in a city as lurid as Ladroa. While superficially handsome, urbane, and jovial, this manner is only a thin veil for his sociopathy and the vain ugliness of his soul. He is a black-hearted dog, a man who lives by night, and needs little excuse to quarrel and draw blood.

While his skill with a rapier is widely attested, everyone in the criminal underworld of the city knows that what makes Agila so dangerous is his utter disregard for human life, the trappings of personal honour, or any grain of decency. 

He will take any job for a price, no matter how cruel or despicable, and it makes little difference to him whether it is achieved through swordplay, by a knife in the dark, or by outright torture. In truth, he prefers the latter.

It is for this reason that Boss Arriaga made a point of enlisting Agila as his personal enforcer; few would risk welching on debts, especially after Agila has made grisly examples of those who went before.   

While his many bloody crimes are whispered of, Agila has until now been able to avoid entanglements with the Mariscales - partly due to Arriaga's influence over the city watch, and partly due to his remarkable ability to avoid being caught in the act. The lack of living witnesses is also a factor.

TYRWIG VON KARSTEN*


The Powder Bishop 


T Y R W I G   Von  K A R S T E N
(deceased)
------------------------------------------
Ht: 6'3  /  Wt: 250  /  Hair: grey  /  Eyes: blue
Age: 47  /  Creed: Torvar  /  Status: *DECEASED

Von Karsten is a storied figure in mercenary lore. Originally a priest of the strenuous order of Saint Gunther, it is said that after he witnessed black powder weapons in action on the battlefield, he declared he'd seen the hand of the divine at work, and from that day onward devoted himself to the study of explosives, pyrotechnics, and firearms, with all the passion of a mad zealot.

Earning himself the epithet “The Powder Bishop,” he soon became a renowned artillerist and siege engineer, and was famed also for his eccentricities and bombast, that many feared verged on insanity. 

JONQUIERE de GEVAUDE*


The Blight Doctor

J O N Q U I E R E   de  G E V A U D E
------------------------------------------
Ht: 5'7  /  Wt: 150  /  Hair: grey  /  Eyes: brown
Age: 60  / Creed: Londais  /  Status: *DECEASED 

Jonquiere de Gevaude is a figure of ill repute across Duatha, better known as the “Blight Doctor" and the infamous “Poisoner of Montcreux." 

Gevaude initially gained notoriety thirty years ago, as a chirurgen and alchemist accused of practicing his black arts upon waylaid labourers and pilgrims, with grisly results. Gevaude evaded justice and quickly disappeared. 

Twenty-five years ago, Gevaude surfaced again, this time in the employ of the Baron de Mortlac, a Londais noble accused of a litany of unspeakable acts. Besieged by wardens of the Clarion Throne, the fallen baron was finally burned alive in his own keep, along with his followers and captives.

Sadly, Gevaude seemingly survived this fate as well. He would continue to elude authorities for several more years, leaving a trail of atrocities in his wake. Rumors of witchcraft and black magic were soon added to his list of crimes.

KHORS*


The Starving God


--------------------------------

Ht: 8'4  /  Wt: ? /  Hair: silver /  Eyes: glinting
Age: unknown  /  Creed: Titan  /  Status: *DECEASED

Khors is a giant humanlike figure who stands over 8 feet tall. His body is emaciated and stooped, a virtual skeleton, with ashen desiccated skin clinging to his sinews and bones. Upon his body are the long faded marks and whorls of tattoos or scarification, now indecipherable against the marbled creases of his flesh. 

In spite of his seemingly withered condition, his frame remains robust, his joints thick and gnarled. His hair is like fine strands of silver, sparse and retreating from a largely bald head, with a scalp dry and cracked like volcanic stone. 

Upon his face hangs the drooping remains of a long mustache that seems for all the world like hammered gold, a faint reminder of a grandeur long departed from his cadaverous face. The black hollows of his eyes glint with reflected starlight, and his long, chipped teeth and nails are grey like tarnished iron.

He stands naked, but for a white-gold ring around his neck, which might once have been a torque, but now hangs loose about his scrawny collarbone. Dangling from the ring is a white-gold disk that flashes in the light. 

ILKAY the NEW MOON*


The Proud One

I L K A Y   t h e   N E W   M O O N 
Knight Prior of the Beacon, First of his Order
---------------------------------
Ht: 7'  /  Wt: 160  /  Hair: white  /  Eyes: black
Age: 600*  /  Creed: Moonfae  /  Status: *DECEASED



Ilkay  was the most senior member of the Knights of the Beacon. Along with his fellow Knight Prior, Koray, he was charged with the task of guarding the Dew-Kissed Tower that served as the portal to the White-Gold Palace. Although chosen to remain behind in the decaying Ashen Realm, potentially for all eternity, Ilkay was unwavering in his duty. As the first knight of his order, his honour was of paramount importance. 

EMPUSA*


The  Fury 

E M P U S A
First General of the Brazen Legion
---------------------------------
Ht: 6'8  /  Wt: 500 lbs  /  Hair: smoking  /  Eyes: burning
Age: 100?  /  Creed: cyborg  /  Status: *DECEASED

APPEARANCE

A female figure standing well over 6' tall, with an ornate musculature wrought in ruddy metal. It is unclear just how much of her form may be flesh clad in armor, or metal through. She struts on two long, equine legs shod in brass. Her face is frozen in an expression of sultry scorn, and her cruel smile shows rows of pointed teeth that seethe with an inner heat, like a grill before a furnace. 

Her head is ringed with a decorative crown, and a billowing haze of red-tinged smoke trails from it, like locks of hair swaying slowly underwater. The metal seams on her neck and head seem to smolder with inner light, but her eyes gleam cold blue. In her hand, she holds a slender, copper-coloured lance  which glows softly, like a long red needle.

ASTRAPIOS the DWARF*


Keeper of the Stolen Lightning

A S T R A P I O S
( a k a   "DUNAYIR"  )
---------------------------------
Ht: 4'7  /  Wt: 250 lb  /  Hair: none /  Eyes: black
Age: 500+  /  Creed: mountain dwarf  /  Status: *DECEASED

 PROFILE

Based on his features and stature, ASTRAPIOS appears to be a bald and beardless Dwarf.

His skin is pale, almost translucent, revealing a webwork of bluish veins that give off a faint cold luminescence. His eyes are colourless black pools. 

He wears a loincloth, boots, toolbelt, and a leathery black apron, with just one arm gloved to the elbow. He carries a 6-foot rod crafted of Faerie Glass that flickers with an inner glow.

KALKEUS the DWARF *


Master of the Great Furnace

K A L K E U S
( a k a   URI '  )
---------------------------------
Ht: 4'5  /  Wt: 500 lb  /  Hair: white  /  Eyes: burning
Age: 500+  /  Creed: mountain dwarf  /  Status: *DECEASED

 PROFILE

Kalkeus is a burly Dwarf with blackened skin like cracked obsidian with a smoldering inferno burning within him. Thanks to his Primordial lineage, he has become one with the blasting heat of the volcanic core that churns beneath Mount Donnerquell, and its elemental fires have kindled inside him.

GERYON*


The CHIMERA

GERYON
Second General of the Brazen Legion
---------------------------------
Ht: 7'9  /  Wt: 900 lbs  /  Hair: none /  Eyes: blue glow
Age: 12 ?  /  Creed: cyborg  /  Status:*DECEASED


The entity called Geryon was cobbled together from three critically-injured Imperial soldiers found on the battlefield after the disastrous Siege of Obrau 12 years ago. These poor souls - two men and one woman - were told by Bronzanti that they would never survive on their own, but through his science, he could use what was left of them to make one functioning body through which they could retain a semblance of life...

VANDERBILT*


The Gremlin

V A N D E R B I L T
tinkerer, philosopher, outcast
---------------------------------
Ht: 2'1  /  Wt: 20 lbs  /  Hair: cold white  /  Eyes: lavender
Age: ~400  /  Creed: Gremlin  /  Status: *DECEASED


APPEARANCE

A small, dapper fellow with a haunted air. His lavender eyes are underscored by a smear of hollow darkness beneath them, the marks of his long, lonely entrapment. His skin is pinkish-pale, and his silvery hair is tufted, with an asymmetrical shock falling over one eye. His small beard and mustache are sharply pointed, echoing his the long point of his nose, and his large, triangular ears.

KRISHAACH*


WARLORD OF THE WINGED HAND

K R I S H A A C H
albino, vampire thrall, general
-----------------
Ht: 6'3 (7'9)  /  Wt: 120 (320)  /  Eyes: pink  /  Hair: white 
  Age: 38  /  Creed: Chiropteran  /  Status: *DECEASED

PROFILE

Krishaach is Queen Shrakeeris' warlord. Born an albino, he was chosen by Shrakeeris to be her lieutenant and consort in spite of his physical frailty. Nursed by elixirs from the Queen (in reality, helpings of the Patriarch's vampiric blood), and driven by his intense loyalty, Krishaach has grown stronger than any werebat before him. He is the closest thing they have to a perfect warrior.

SHRAKEERIS*


QUEEN OF THE WINGED HAND

S H R A K E E R I S
werebat, vampire, would-be queen 
-----------------
Ht: 6'  /  Wt: 100  /   Eyes: red  /  Hair: black
Age: 26  /  Creed: Chiropteran Vampire  /  Status:*DECEASED

DESCRIPTION

In human form, Shrakeeris is a beautiful, pitch-haired woman with ivory skin and ruby red eyes. Her almost-naked form is both graceful and feral, girded and draped with bejeweled silver from the vaults of Taath Nahct. Her voice is lush and resonant, adding to her magnetic presence. Her resting state is human-like, but with evident fangs, large ears, and a set of enormous bat-wings that sprout from her back.

Captain GORAN di FREZZI*


aka Captain Frenzy


Captain  G O R A N  A K U L Y A V I C  di  F R E Z Z I
mercenary, reaver, slaver, atrocity artist
---------------------------
Ht: 5'10  /  Wt: 170  /  Eyes: Grey  /  Hair: Black-Grey
Age: 46  /  Creed: Malochov  /  Status: *DECEASED


In the tumult following the Clarion Regicide, mercenary forces proliferated in Duatha. The free companies could promise victory for a price, but tales of rape, pillage, extortion, and butchery often followed these lawless gangs. Infamous companies such as the Black Bulls and the Purple Banners were spoken of with both fear and contempt. The captains of these roving armies operated as warlords, limited only by their ambition.

Among the most dreaded of these men was Goran Akulyavic, who later took the surname di Frezzi. Originally a pirate from Malochovia, the lure of Capracian coin soon called him south with his crew, who became known as the Company of the Hook. By land or by sea, di Frezzi's monstrous exploits soon became notorious throughout the south. 

FENG YAOSHI*


aka: The Divine-Faced-Hero, Master of the Sleeping Sword

F E N G   Y A O S H I
legendary hero, swordsman, and hedonist
---------------------------------
Ht: 6'  /  Wt: 165  /  Hair: black  /  Eyes: brown  /  Age: 39
Creed: Zhujin  /  Clan: Three Blossom Society  /  Status: *DECEASED
The man was unusually tall for an Eastlander and strikingly handsome; his features were symmetrical, smooth, and refined like an idealized scroll painting, but with a chiseled jaw and masculine furrow in his brow. His black hair was long, flowing loose about his shoulders, and his dusky yellow robes hung open at the chest, exposing a toned, coppery muscularity. The swordsman reclined lazily on the steps of the small pavillion, with a sly smirk across his face and a cup of wine raised in one hand.