OOC Legends: Games of a Predator

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    Specter of Death

    Omnipresent Moderator
    Staff member
    Glad to see your ok. Your friend was very nice and told us your situation don't feel pressured to write, we are all patient people's.

    Sent from my Samsung GS4
     

    Specter of Death

    Omnipresent Moderator
    Staff member
    My friend is posting here soon. Let me know what you think. He's open to any and all suggestions though we have worked on it for a week already.

    Farth let us k ow if you need anything here, we can help you out with whatever.

    Sent from my Samsung GS4
     

    The Honorable Gidian Diva of Sass

    Sahrot Vahlok Spaan. Bahnahgaar. Minion #88!
    Staff member
    General Information

    Name: Ferris (Rancor) Draconias

    Age: Roughly 25

    Race: Raised as a nord

    Birth Date: Unknown, assumed to be close to the month of Hearthfire

    Birth Place: Unknown

    Birth sign: The Lady

    Class: Survivalist/Sword master

    Gender: Male

    Height: 5'12"

    Weight: Roughly 161 Ibs.

    Build: Athletic, strong

    Laterality: Right Handed

    Sexuality: Heterosexual

    Marital Status: Single...

    Properties: None

    Affiliations: Always changing...

    Afflictions: Unknown...

    Religion: While he is aware of the Aedra and Daedra, he could care less about them

    Patron Deity: None

    Habits: Folding his arms behind the middle of his back...

    Hobbies: ...

    Positive Traits: Strong willed, durable, calculating, intelligent...

    Negative Traits: Reckless, rude, stubborn, mischievous, callous, arrogant, confrontational, temperamental...

    Likes/Loves: Confrontation, loved ones lost...

    Dislikes/Hates: Real parents, adoptive parents, brothers, magic...

    Fears: ...

    Aspirations: To find his purpose and avenge his sister...

    Appearance

    Hair Length: Medium, unkempt and wild

    Hair Color: Almost black

    Facial Hair: rough beard

    Facial hair color: Almost black

    Eye color: Extremely dark

    Skin Color: Medium skin tone
    This, more or less. Notice the bags under his eyes:
    standalone

    standalone


    Scars: Teeth marks from some beast on his right shoulder, claw marks on his left arm and left side of his face, cut/laceration on the right side of his face (on the cheek), many cuts and knicks on his hands from handling weapons and etc, including a large cut that looks as if he grabbed someone's sword mid swing with his left, many other scars that are not visible while he is clothed/ wearing armour. This is etched into the middle of his back (primitive tattoos), along with two other words, one on each shoulder blade:
    DAEDRIC_S.PNG
    DAEDRIC_P.PNG
    DAEDRIC_E.PNG
    DAEDRIC_R.PNG
    DAEDRIC_O.PNG
    . The words on his shoulder blades have an X carved with a knife over them. This word is intact. They are all in the same language.
    Casual Attire: Simple dark shirt and pants

    Armour: Two sided, camouflaged, and mottled cloak, leather padding, chainmail, and some light plate here and there protecting critical parts of the body, black covering it. Credit to Dark Souls and FromSoftware for the picture, it's the closest thing I could find to represent his armour.
    thief-set-m-large.jpg

    Gear: A well made steel sword, a saxe knife, and a smaller leaf bladed throwing knife. The knives are kept on a dual scabbard on his right hip, the sword on his left. He also carries a steel round shield.

    Skills

    He is an extremely dangerous and deadly combatant. Hands, swords, knives, shields, and many types of throwing weapons. He was trained and conditioned brutally and mercilessly almost since he could walk to fight, kill, and survive. His level of skill goes one step above practice makes perfect and his natural instincts and reflexes give him an edge over most opponents. He is also extremely proficient with light armour, and knows how to get the maximum effectiveness from it. He is very survivable overall, and extremely endurant.

    He knows very well how to take care of himself in the wilderness. He is a good enough hunter and stalker to catch dinner, and knows the nuances of hunting well enough to compete with the predators that were purposely set on his trail in his youth. He is also fairly good with nuances of city life, and can blend in quite well when he has to.

    He is a relatively competent smith. He made most of his weapons and armour himself, and maintains them. He is by no means a master though, and at his best he is only above average.

    His knowledge of alchemy ends with knowing which plants are okay to eat and which are not. He doesn't really do potion making, but he knows which plants can aid in medical operations and which can be used as poisons.

    No magic.

    He can read and write, and generally has a sharp mind. He does not like to show it, and often conceals his intelligence behind a fool's mask of nonchalance and foolishness.

    Backstory:

    Infancy: Not much is known about this period in his life. He, along with his two brothers, were found by a nordic warrior couple. They took the orphans in, adopting them. They happened to own a small patch of land in Skyrim, and dropped them off there to be taken care of by the workers there. Then, the couple went to war. During this period, the brothers' lives were relatively peaceful.

    Early Childhood: Life goes on. They now have a mother figure, who takes care of them and gives them an early start on skills they are going to need later in life.

    Late Childhood: Bandits raid the estate and slaughter the majority of the people there. The brothers' manage to escape, but one of them had mercy killed their mother figure, feeding the fires of resentment. the parents return from the war, and the beginnings of brutal training begin.

    Preteen: They have begun to develop the skills and conditioning of master warriors and survivalists. Their adoptive parents seem merciless and borderline abusive, and between bouts of rivalry and resentment toward each other, the brothers find common ground in their hatred for their adoptive parents.

    Early Teens: Continue in much the same way. The adoptive parents give birth to a sister, whom the brother adopt as their own and swear to protect. even if that protection is from her own parents.

    Late Teens: The adoptive parents have went back to war and died, leaving the brothers to take care of a little sister and an estate (albeit a small one) along with the workers who remain. They each take up responsibilities, working various odd jobs to keep things rolling. They also, with little less to occupy their free time, continue their strenuous training. they know little else, and by this point is a force of habit, instinct, and muscle memory.

    Early Adulthood: There is an explosive fight, and the brothers slowly break off from each other. Ferris is the first to leave, and is then followed by his sister. The other two brothers, finding little reason to stay, break off and go their separate ways. Since then, he has become extremely well travelled.




    The rest is for me to know, and you to find out.
     

    The Honorable Gidian Diva of Sass

    Sahrot Vahlok Spaan. Bahnahgaar. Minion #88!
    Staff member
    Forgive the extreme length, but there was a lot I wanted to encompass in this scene, even though it's just a sample. It is a critical part of Ferris's character, and I felt it was worth taking the time:

    It was a cool, clear night in Skyrim. The moon was up, and the stars out. To most, a cool night in Skyrim was freezing. But, to the ones who had lived there for their entire lives, it was bearable. It was especially bearable for Ferris, who's senses were numbed by substance. Sleeping Tree Sap. It filled him with a false sense of warmth and vitality as he consumed it. There was little left in this world for him, and he was determined he would find a purpose, or die trying.

    "Com' on!" He shouted to the skies in his drug induced stupor, "Throw somethin' at me! Not like ya' ever held back b'fore!" He practically spat out, stumbling along as he cursed every god he knew, daring them to challenge him. As if in response, wolves howling in the distance echoed off the mountains that were the walls of his country. Wolves in the hunt. Ferris longed to blindly rush into the forests after them, seeking to fight them or whatever else he encountered first. But he would never be able to navigate the wilds in his current state, and would likely die of tripping and falling from a high place long before he ever encountered a wild beast to put him out of his misery. So instead, he was trudging up in the middle of the roads, daring something to come for him.

    He took another swig of his precious substance, and heard the distorted noises of some sort of convoy approaching. Soldiers, guards, horses, whatever. Ferris's senses were dulled, and he had simply not registered the noises he was sensing until they were nearly upon him. As the lead guard of the convoy approached him, he quickly fumbled for the sword at his waist. But in the process, he dropped his substance. The only thing in the world he felt that mattered to him right now. He immediately tried to catch it, but only succeeded in falling down, face first in the middle of the road. The lead guard and a few others laughed as they threw him into the ditch, and went on their way. He tried to protest, and spit out a few unintelligible curses.

    Ferris just laid there, his eyes closed, as he tried to take back control of his senses. But he couldn't, it was no use. So instead, he just decided to stay there for awhile. He could get back up if he really wanted to, or so he told himself. He finally managed to pry his eyes open, and had to catch his breath. The stars above him were dancing around in his vision, dazzling him. He tried to focus on them, to make them stop dancing, but only succeeded in giving himself a headache. He closed his eyes again, now begging in an unintelligible voice for the gods to never allow him to awaken.

    Until something pierced the deep fog that was masking his consciousness. At first, he couldn't put his finger on what it was that had roused him. But soon it became more clear. A high pitched scream, female. The voice was familiar, but he couldn't at first recognize it. Then, almost immediately after, he sat bolt upright, desperation fueling his senses, and aiding him in fighting off the effects of the sap. He rolled to his feet, nearly falling again, and ran for all he was worth in the direction the strange convoy had been heading. It took a great deal of effort to stay on his feet, and for once in his life, he prayed to every god he knew that he wouldn't be too late, that he would do anything for them if he just wasn't too late. The screaming had been his sister, probably chasing after him once he'd ran away from his responsibilities.

    He almost didn't notice the scene that was playing out before him until it was too late. The convoy suddenly roared to life in his vision, guards and soldiers running in every direction as unseen attackers picked off one after another. The carriage they had been escorting was the main focus of their frantic defense, but it was clear that they were going to be overwhelmed. Several of them charged off into the foliage after the unseen attackers, only to be cut down by unseen foes. Those that stayed and tried to form a formation and bring order to the chaos were quickly being picked off by a various assortment of ranged and thrown weapons. But the carriage was enclosed and armoured, so the attackers would have to close in sooner or later for their target.

    The ranks were fairly thin by the time Ferris had joined the fray. Some of the unknown assailants had rushed out to finish the dwindling number of guards, and somewhere a little girl was screaming. Ferris tried to zero in on where the sound was coming from, tried to isolate the sound through the haze that was covering his mind. But it was useless. The sounds were coming from every direction, and his vision was beginning to dance again.

    One of the guards, mistaking him for another attacker, charged him. A lifetime of training, conditioning, and honing of instincts were corrupted by the foul substance Ferris had consumed. His body betrayed him as he tried to draw his sword and pull out his shield. The weight of them dragged him to one side as he brought them to bare. He simply couldn't hold on to his sword, and barely got his shield up in a double handed grip just in time to block a furious assault from the soldier. He was forced to his knees as the man sought a weakness in Ferris's defenses. But there was another scream, and Ferris roused himself from his stupor once again. He lowered his sword arm and drew his Saxe, and stabbed the man in his legs repeatedly, bringing him down. The man dropped his sword as he fell, and Ferris lunged upon him and killed him with repeated stabs to the chest.

    The rest of the guards were now locked in a one sided battle against the attackers, clearly outmatched. Ferris rose unsteadily to his feet, almost losing his balance again. He could not hang on to his shield and maintain his balance at the same time, so he tossed it to the side and drew his leaf bladed throwing knife. It put him at a severe disadvantage, but he could not manage the shield and it was better than nothing. He finally spotted his sister, who was doing her best to hide behind the thinning line of guards.

    Ferris steeled himself, then charged at the assassin's from behind. Knowing that he was in no condition for the finesse required to defend himself from a skilled swordsman, and that he was in no condition to reliably throw his knife, he simply tackled one of them to the ground and commenced savagely beating and stabbing them, landing blows wherever he could. They had thought their flanks secure, and so one of the assassin's was slow to come to the aid of their fallen comrade. But aid his comrade he did. A solid kick to the side of Ferris's head set his world spinning as he was thrown to the side.

    The familiar smell of blood as well as its familiar feel on his hands roused Ferris, and he propped himself up on his knees. An assassin was now bearing down on his sister, too far for Ferris to intercept. So he attempted a knife throw, planning to kill the man with a knife lodged in his back. But the throw was not true, the haze of the drug overcoming his instincts. Its hilt struck the man in his left shoulder blade, and the knife bounced away. But, although its edge did no damage, the weight and force behind it was enough to knock the man off balance, and he tripped over a dead body. Ferris almost fell over as his arm followed through with the throw, but he managed to painfully catch himself. He then began to wretch and throw up, before attempting to regain his feet.

    He was about to lose hope for his sister, when one of the assassins signaled their mark was dead, and they fled into the wilds as quickly as they'd come. They left none behind, except for the dead bodies of most of the guards. Some had survived, and they approached Ferris slowly and wearily, weapons ready. But before they could get to him, his sister ran from where she'd been cowering, and tackled him with a hug.

    He could not support both of their bodies, and nearly fell backwards. Ferris had never felt more relieved in his life as she steadied him. She was about to say something, when suddenly her body was driven forward, knocking both her and Ferris to the ground. Relief turned to horror as he saw an arrow in her back, her body and eyes now lifeless. He roared, moving her body to the side as he violently got to his feet, eyes searching for something to kill. Within seconds, his sister and the guards had been killed by unseen archers. It was coming from the opposite direction the assassins had retreated from, and it seemed to be coming from one archer.

    Ferris, now the last one standing, charged blindly at the wilderness. His charge was erratic, his dulled senses causing him to stumble and sway in random directions and even randomly fall to the ground. There is no doubt that that saved his life. None of the arrows inflicted a mortal wound. But he never made it to the forest. The weight of his sister's death on his watch, as well as the many arrows piercing his body, finally laid him low. He collapsed, praying to all the gods he knew to let him die, just die, until he mercifully passed into unconsciousness.
     

    Specter of Death

    Omnipresent Moderator
    Staff member
    I can try and post pretty soon this week. I have a busy schedule tomorrow, and most of Thursday, so if I get a chance, I can get it up Thursday night. But I have Friday off, so I will get it p then if time persists.
     

    CapObvious

    A Rotten Scroungeral
    5'14. I win. :D
     

    Specter of Death

    Omnipresent Moderator
    Staff member
    OK. I'm developing a post now, and I will get it up when I can. So, how do you guys like Gidian's CC? Any little holes that you want to point out, maybe some issues you'd like to change?

    With that, I have 3 things that I would like to add to this. First, I want you all to try and find a song or theme that you think represents your characters well. It is for a little project I am working on to put in the Legends page. Second, I want us to figure out when we should integrate Gidian into the story. I was thinking maybe whenever Farth is better, and starts to post again. But I want to see what you guys think. And last, I wanted to know exactly how we wanted all of our characters to meet and connect.

    Let me know what ya'll think, and I will have a post up soon.
     

    Specter of Death

    Omnipresent Moderator
    Staff member
    Ya. I could agree with that. It could make sense considering we haven't met up yet.

    Oh, and Valin, before I put it off again, I wanted to ask: What were you planning to do with the wizard and you characters' impisonment?

    You don't have to give away details or anything, I just wanted to make sure you didn't kill him without meeting the group, though I don't think that is what you have planned.
     

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