XARHAIN
Name: Erik Stormbrow
Race: Dwarf
Occupation: Slayer
Personality: Erik is a deeply disturbed dwarf. After suffering the dishounour of losing his beard, he's become almost fanatical about both growing it back, and examining other peoples facial hair, critising and commenting on it with envy. He's is very folorn a lot of the time, though more sad and dishonoured than grumpy. He's suprisingly forgiving, prefering not to get into arguments where others could insult him about his lack of a long beard.

Physical description: Erik is short, even for a dwarf, but packs muscles to rival an ogre (literally on a few occasions). He has shoulder length orange dyed hair, and only a very small grey beard. Little more than stubble, or a "manlings beard". He wears neutral coloured clothes, browns, blacks and tans.

Background: Erik grew up a typical dwarf and he joined the ranks of the warriors early. He was respected by his companions, for despite his bwlow average height, he fought better than most around him, felling his foes almost with grace, and asounding feat for a dwarf.

His dishounouring came when he was part of an expedition that touched the borderlines of the infamous ogre kingdoms. There the 60 dwarf force was ambushed by chaos dwarves, their foul kin, and at the fore of the chaos dwarf army were no fewer than twelve of the giant ogre creatures, recruited no doubt from the local lands. They were covered in armour and spikes, and they crashed into the dwarf lines like a tidal wave. The cowardly chaos dwarfs merely gazed in awe as the ogres rampaged, only lending fire support to their mercenaries.

Although the dwarves fought bravely, they were hideously outmatched, and could only bring a few of the beasts down before all that was left was a single unit of warriors. Erik Stormbrows unit. Lead by the dwarf Thane of the expedition, they ran forwards in a final suicidal charge, and engaged the main chaos dwarf lines. They fought like madmen, determined to exact vengeance, but the numbers, and the strength of the ogres who had loped back to join the fight was too much, and Eriks warriors were surrounded, and hacked almost to a man.

Deep in the whirling, bloody melee, Erik stood by his Thane, and had deflected several blows that could have been fatal for the experienced leader. Erik himself was wounded and brought down by a spiked ogre club, and he watched as all bar the thane were mercilessly cut down. The ogres closed in on the Thane, and though the Thane bravely took one of the raging beings down, he too was smashed to the floor. The largest ogre stood over him, ready to deliver the killing blow, but at the last second the ogre stopped. His eyes glazed over and he collapsed, an axe imbedded in the base of its neck.

Erik smiled as his thrown axe found his target, picked up another axe of a fallen brother then charged forward to stand back to back with the Thane who had regained his feet. Unfortunately, Eriks mind was filled with confidence and pride over his crack shot, and he strayed from the thane, who was brought down and finally killed without Erik even noticing. He mindlessly fought on, taking one more of the ogres with him, before he was knocked unconscious.


Hours later, Erik came to. The chaos dwarves had gone, as had the ogres, and to his horror, his beard as well. Devastated, he got to his feet, and looked around himself. All around him, his fallen brothers had also all been shaved of their glorious facial hair. Erik must have been mistaken for one of the dead. He moved to the Thanes side, and realised how he had failed. How his own overconfidence had let the Thane die. Here and then, surrounded by the bodies of his brothers and the ogre beasts, Erik Stormbrow took the slayer oath. He had dishonoured himself, and would travel to find the largest ogre beast he could. Perhaps in a glorious death he could regain at least a part of the honour he had lost.

Unfortunately for Erik, living with no beard is worse for a dwarf than dying with one, so Erik strives to survive long enough for his beard to grow back. He won't allow himself to die before it has regrown, as that would be even more of a dishonour than he had already suffered.

That day still haunts him, and he still seeks vengeance with the Chaos dwarves that did it to him. Every foe he takes down brings him one step closer to his final goal. He has adopted a great technique of throwing axes, realising though the ogre encounter that although it is a difficult skill that few master, it is very deadly attack, that almost none survive if hit. Whenever Erik himself survives an encounter, he lifts his head, and shouts in a deep booming voice something that has become his own personal battle cry.

"ERIK LIVES ON"

Equipment: Slung from each shoulder, attached to corresponding points (right to right, left to left) on a belt round his waste are belts that each hold three axes, the handles pointing outwards for ease of drawing. These axes are finely balanced for throwing, but also make fearsome combat weapons if required. The real combat weapon is slung on his back however: a giant double-bladed two-handed axe, the traditional weapon of the slayers he folornly joined.

(Six throwing axes, great weapon.)

Skills: Axe-fighter (May throw a maximum of three missiles in his shooting phase and may divided his shots between any targets in range), Strongman (May use a double-handed weapon without striking last).

BENEDICTUS
Name: Globrin Spider-Friend - DEAD
Race: Goblin
Occupation: Shaman
Personality: Manic-depressive.
Physical description: Short, even for a goblin, the little creature's skin is a shade of green closer to the colour of swamp fungus, with an oily sheen that travel dust doesn't even affect. He has thin, wispy hair which tends to blow about in winds, whipping into his eyes and tangling around his neck and the various charms and amulets hanging about it.

His frame is scrawny and bony and while he clutches a thigh-bone staff, it's clear he looted or stole the bone from another rather than killing the creature himself. His teeth are sharp, however, and it's clear from the gleam in his eyes that he's cunning or insane enough to defy such creatures.

Crude tattoos of spiders and swamp dwelling creatures in a variety of garish colours cover his hands and face with the largest, a purple and black spider, covering the right side of his face, with the legs extending into his wispy hair.

As well as the tattoos a variety of spiders seem to have taken up residence in his tattered clothing, scuttling about him at will. Chances are that a significant proportion of his hair is actually spiderweb.

Background: There are many goblin tribes in the world. Many of them are enslaved by large orc tribes, while many band together and raid human and dwarven settlements. Others are obscure, fighting amongst themselves and the local creatures simply to survive. Greenskins are a plague on the world, and they're everywhere- some in swampland.

The Slimy Spider tribe is one such group, existing somewhere to the south of the Ogre Kingdoms, in the swamplands of those areas. Globrin was one of the unlucky few who gained a connection with the orcish gods- particularly Mork, who favours the cunning plan over brutality.

Globrin served his tribe for several years as an apprentice to his mighty master, Shelgor. During a raid on a northern plains tribe, however, Mork took notice of his newest shaman, and cursed him, knocking him out of the fight with a great green explosion.

When Globrin recovered, his tribe had returned home, victorious (and leaving their young shaman behind as dead) and he was about to be eaten by the plains goblins to bring them some better fortune. But Mork was not done with his shaman, and Globrin was able to summon his powers to free himself and slay the enemy Big Boss. For such a mighty sign of the god's favours, the Red Lions tribe did not eat Globrin, but instead cast him out- ordering him to leave and never return.

And so Globrin, free from being eaten and unable to return home, decided that Mork wanted him to go out and become rich. Mork hasn't spoken to him since, but Globrin's convinced that the spiders his tribe worshipped were Mork's servants, so he's acquired himself several pets and listens to their sage advice.

Since then, he's wandered the Silk Route, offering his services as shaman, soothsayer and fireball-thrower to all and sundry. Except the Chaos Dwarves who prefer to have goblins work mines than throw spells...but that's a different story.

After his most recent scheme, working for an Imperial trading expedition in return for some lovely new clothes (yes, the rags he's currently wearing), he's come to the town of Durburg, looking for new work.

Equipment:

• Bone staff- probably stolen from someone.
• Tattered, brightly-coloured imperial clothing.
• A variety of poisonous spiders.
• Various completely worthless 'magical trinkets' in the form of necklaces, bracelets, bits of cloth...you get the idea.

(Magic staff, spiders)

Skills: Mage lvl 1 (may cast spells, has 2 power dice, 1 dispel dice), Mage lvl 2 (+1 power dice per turn).

LORD CHILIPEPA
Name: Marius Brossman
Race: Human, Reiklander.
Occupation: Marius could loosely be classed as a sellsword.
Background: Marius was the second son of a wealthy, established family in Altdorf, his father what might be described as an arriviste from the merchant class and his mother a member of one of the aristocratic patrician families. As much as his father was looked down on by his noble relatives (without much impact on the stubborn, resilient man), Marius was encouraged to side with them, the aristocratic elements of his family taking every opportunity to insert a wedge between himself and his father. An intelligent boy, and an intelligent young man as he grew up, Marius was perfectly aware of their actions and their snobbish motives, and rebuffed them at every turn – however, he was somewhat inverted, keeping himself to himself, and thus his father was unaware to the degree with which the boy followed the movements and beliefs of his mother’s side of the family. He became slowly more estranged from all his relatives, a distant, cold figure – on completion of a term at Altdorf university, he took the opportunity offered by his noble relatives of a career in the Reiksguard, not seeing any notable family propaganda involved in the act. To his father, however, complying with their wishes was an act of treachery – the already strained relationship broke, much to Marius’ incomprehension. Unlike her family, Marius’ mother was deeply attached to his father (as one might expect), and she too felt a degree of hostility to her son and her kin – the one for caving to the other, the second for their disgusting snobbery. While Leitpold, the first-born of the couple, followed in his father’s footsteps and pursued a career in trade, Marius grew further and further apart from his immediate family, while still remaining innately hostile to the aristocrats who had broken the bonds in the first place, constantly trying to interfere in his life. He tried to distance himself from everything to do with them, focussing entirely on his career in the Reiksguard and his limited friends rather than his family, treating those who would still press their company upon him with a cold reserve that gradually spread to the other aspects of his life. His superiors recognised in him a superlative commander, but one with a lack of the quality of charisma so essential to a leader of men – he daunted, rather than encouraged, his colleagues. Slowly at first, the rate of his promotions began to drop away – he found himself blocked on the military ladder, knights far less able being passed over his head. The fact that, as always with the Reiksguard, most of them were the sons of nobles, many connected to the patrician families that had ruined his early life, did nothing to improve his opinion of the practice. He slowly turned to a dark depression – never a drinker or one prone to self-pity, he did not turn to those recesses now, but instead threw in his low command within the Reiksguard, declaring in veiled words to his friends and associates that the establishment even within this most vital of institutions was corrupt, snobbish and incompetent. As a result, his application as a commander of the state infantry was turned down, and he was turned out on the streets – his noble acquaintances cut him off completely on news of his resignation and bitter condemnation of the Reiksguard, leaving him with no contacts whatsoever. Returning to his father, he begged for aid, but the old man – now terminally ill – refused to see him for a week, finally granting him audience only to fly into a ferocious tirade. He died soon after, leaving Marius irrevocably saddened and embittered. He no longer laughed – he seemed transformed from a likeable but perhaps over-intelligent, slightly cold young man to a dark, angry individual, entirely focussed on some enigmatic aim. One by one, his friends forsook him, finding the new Marius both unfriendly and frightening.

No doubt now remained in his heart about where his loyalties lay, and he determined to escape the system that had ground him down so – joining a caravan to the World’s Edge Mountains, he switched trade trains and enlisted as a guard on another heading through a treacherous pass near Karak Azal, where orc activity was flaring dangerously. So he found himself on the Old Silk Road, and now in Durburg new employment, a new chapter in the unknowable journey of his life, unfolds before him.

Personality: Marius now is a cold, withdrawn individual – he has no time for others, and makes this clear. The best emotion one can solicit from Brossman is something approaching professional respect. He has a tendency to view those of noble birth as condescending snobs and military commanders as those selected as cronies of the establishment, and thus he alienates the majority of the educated classes to whom he can actually relate in one fell swoop.

Physical description: Marius is tall and somewhat sallow, with black hair and bluish-grey eyes. He gives the impression of a somewhat wiry athleticism, never having the opportunity to let his fitness slip on the road or in the knightly orders, but never having the constitution or the motivation to develop the musclebound frame of some of his “colleagues”.

Equipment: Marius wears a battered shirt of mail that is nonetheless well-crafted, a relic of better-moneyed days, as is his long, well-balanced sword – the only part of his paraphernalia at the Reiksguard which he was allowed to keep, it being technically his own since initiation to the Emperor’s bodyguards. More recent and less polished equipment comes in the form of a steel breastplate, dulled and battered from a long time on the road, and an iron war-hatchet, a short but vicious blade that is at least as deadly as the sword in his skilled hands. He seldom removes his armour, which aside from the mail shirt and breastplate consists of leather gauntlets and a pair of battered iron greaves.

(Heavy armour, sword, axe)

Skills: Expert swordsman (re-roll missed to hit rolls with swords)

TSUNAMI
Name: Rondis Goodbarrel
Race: Human
Occupation: Wandering Soul
Personality: When one first sees Rondis, one is drowned in a sea of his speech. It seems as if Rondis is constantly talking. It isn't even interesting talk, nor bragging. It's just plain small talk. Many don't look beyond it, and dismiss Rondis as a wandering fool.

Physical description: Rondis stands about 6 feet and is somewhat muscular although not very noticable. He is about 18 years old and his black hair hangs in front of his eyes, often making it impossible to see his brown eyes. Rondis is usual is found in his travelling clothes, that are stitched so many times, his cloak is of all kinds of different colours.

Background: Rondis is always happy to share his past tales with all who want to listen. According to him, he has fought dragons, outwitted daemons and even married a governor’s daughter. If one believes his stories then Rondis is the mightiest of warriors that walk this world. Yet it is obvious for all to see Rondis for what he truly is, a teenager with a misplaced mouth.

Equipment: A crossbow, Travelling outfit, an old horse with saddle, rations for 2 days, 20 bolts, dagger. In Durburg Rondis picked up some old rags, oil, flour and a magical amulet that creates fire - "the fireball kit".

(Crossbow (20 bolts), dagger, horse, "fireball kit.")

Skills: Nimble (May move and fire his crossbow), Eagle Eyes (+6" range for weapons).

ROGUE-GLADIATOR
Name: Sahra
Race: Human (Female)
Occupation: Practitioner of Amethyst magic (Mage using Death Lore); Mercenary.
Personality: At first glance, Sahra’s personality is one of a woman who is warm and welcoming of those she meets. She seems kind to her fellow mercenaries, and will support them in their times of strife. However, beneath this, Sahra is often depressed and lovesick, searching for the meaning of her own life, and the man who survived her curse. She often will cry when given time to think about her situation in life, unable to cope with what she must endure.

Physical description: Though living the life of a mercenary, Sahra does not have the appearance of a battle hardened veteran. In fact, her appearance is quite the opposite. She stands at around 5’6” tall, with a slim build, as she is not a warrior, but a mage. Her skin is of an olive complexion, and her hair is black, both signs of her eastern heritage. Her eyes, however, glow with an unnatural lavender colour, a strange trait which, while being unnatural, is also somewhat alluring to those who gaze upon her. Her voice is smooth and flowing, and her Riekspell is spoken almost perfectly. As a sign of her position as a mage, she wears a deep purple silk robe, interwoven with elaborate designs and patterns that are traditional among her people. Under these robes, she wears the basic clothing of a traveler. For defense, Sahra carries two weapons; a staff and a scimitar. The Staff she carries was given to her by the College to help channel the winds of magic into her fatal art. It is crafted from a dark wood, and its top is entwined by a golden Serpent. Within the snake’s mouth is held a purple gem that glows with the same unnatural light as Sahra’s eyes. The scimitar is a weapon similar to those wielded by the warriors of Araby. It is a weapon that is forged purely for battle, and, as such, has no elaborated designs on it.

Background: The early accounts of Sahra’s childhood are all but unknown to the lands of the Empire. She was born in the lands of Araby, where she spent the early years of her life. Born to unknown parents, Sahra served the Shiekh of her city as one of his many slaves. She seemed destined to live the life as a slave within the palace, then the harem. This was not to be.
At the age of twelve, Sahra’s ability to harness the Amethyst magic became evident. She awoke one night to the sounds of unworldly moans within her mind. As she wandered the palace in her fear, she came across one of the guards. Suddenly feeling a surge of energy flow through her body, she fell to her knees in pain, blacking out temporarily. When she regained her senses moments later, she found the guard dead, his body torn by dark forces. When she was discovered by other guards, Sahra fled the palace into the shifting sands of the desert. Instead of facing certain death, she was found the next day by a caravan of merchants hailing from the Empire. The head of the caravan, taking pity on the child, and wishing for daughter of his own, took her to the city of Aldorf to raise as his own.
As she aged, Sahra’s control over the lore of Death became evident. Her foster father, only wishing the best for the child, sent her to the College of magic, where she began to train herself in the art of Amethyst magic. Five years into her training, she again experienced the same fate she had in her younger years, this time killing a fellow mage of the college. Fearing her life, Sahra again chose to run.
For the past three years, Sahra has traveled through the Empire as a mercenary. Often working alone, she wanders the lands trying to find meaning to her life, and the meaning of her curse. She has periodically had similar instances of her dormant power throughout her travels, and has only found one man who has survived her fatal curse. He was a man who wore a mask shaped like a skull, and carried the weapons of the Tilean nobility. Along with hoping to discover who she is, the mage also searches for man who confronted death itself and lived.

Equipment: Mage’s staff, Scimitar, traveller’s cloths, a silk robe

(Magic staff, sword, Cathayan silk cloak)

Skills: Mage lvl 1 (may cast spells, has 2 power dice, 1 dispel dice), Mage lvl 2 (+1 power dice per turn).

KING ULRIK
Name: Skalf
Race: Dwarf
Occupation: Slayer
Personality: Dour, determined, stubborn, honourable, quick to anger, seeks death

Physical description: Skalf is about average dwarven height, but his bulk is almost twice that of his race. No beer belly is this, toned muscle. Deep blue tattoos in dwarven script and art entwine his body, among the tattoos are scars. Lots or deep, twisting and old scars from his days of being a slayer. A bright orange crest of hair rises from the center of his otherwise shaven skull, and the long well kept beard is dyed the same colour as a sign of the slayer. He wears nothing but a small leather jerkin that is chainmail on the inside, wouldn't want to be sticked by an arrow now would he?

Background: Skalf was once a Thane of a dwarven hold, what one is unknown and no one dares ask the shamed dwarf of it. Once asked to lead a group of longbeards into the Ungdrin Ankor (Underway), they were ambushed and then captured. Skalf awoke to find himself chain to a rock and to watch his battle brothers cooked and eaten, a fury over took him and he tore himself free before begining to slaughter all greenskins he could. Being the only surviver her could not return and face such shame, so he swore he'd kill all greenskin and enemies of his race until death finds him. He swore the slayer oath.

Since that time he has been spotted wandering the more dangerous parts of the Ungdrin Ankor and the World Edge Mountains in search for a mighty death, he has been creditied with the slaying of the Orc Warlord Norlak Backbreaker of the Golden Eye tribe as well as his entire bodyguard. Also tales speak of him fighting many great drakes and dragons that haunt the mountains, it was him who slew the bane of the dwarven tavern The Golden Hammer the Drake Gralek.


Equipment: Armoured with a chainmail lined leather jerkin, and at his waist hangs bags of gold that the dwarfs treasure. Another holds many precious gems, all taken from the tomb of the drake Gralek.

In one hand he bears a great axe, its surface inscribed with many potent dwarfish runes.

The other he bears an old, more ancient axe. The hilt is make of an ivory fang shaped into the form of a dragon, it's sinious form creeps its way up the haft of the weapon before it's gaping maw ends either side of the gromril axe head. The axe has it's name inscribed upon the dark wooden haft, Drakk Az-Drengl, The Dragon Axe. Even older runes, bane of great drake, dragons and monsters of the old world or worked into its gromril surface. No runesmith alive has been able to decypher the runes but all seem to agree that these are the bane of such creatures but has an effect of the bearer that their speed and reflexes are improved when facing such creatures.

(Gromril axe, magic axe, light armour)

Skills: Mighty blow (+1 Strength), Resilient (Enemies have -1 Strength against him in close combat. This does not affect armour save modifiers).

EXPERIENCE:
Erik - 13
Globrin - 12
Marius - 7
Rondis - 4
Sahra - 12
Skalf - 6

Characters level up at XP4, 8, 12, etc.


14/5/05
I've fallen a bit behind with this, but basically Erik, Sahra and Rondis "level up". I'm also going to start handing out experience to the most active RPers to fight inactivity. :)

Erik has gained +1 Strength.
Sahra has gained +1 Weapon Skill.
Rondis has gained +1 Ballistic Skill.

15/5/05
Globrin has his XP back.

12/6/05
Erik and Sahra level up twice, Marius and Skalf do so once. I'll organise stat increases tomorrow.

Globrin is dead :(

I've given Xarhain and Chili an extra experience point each, as they've been the most active RPers. Everyone else - keep posting, and you'll get one. :)