The Phoenix League [OOC/Low Fantasy/Semi-Sandbox/OPEN]

[Saleon]

Yet I was able to make you gasp in horror.

Are we speaking OOC or IC? And with what? I am officially curious.

I did it in the IC. Here is your ooc response:

H-Holy crap Saleon...

[Galnius]

Are we speaking OOC or IC? And with what? I am officially curious.

I did it in the IC. Here is your ooc response:

H-Holy crap Saleon...

OOOHHH, I think that was because the post was good xD

[Doughertania]

My question was never answered What is Wales called?

I did answer your question. I had a really big post with a bunch of response lumped in. You were in there. Check the first or second page.

Edit: I answered it on the last post of the first page.

I haven't been able to find anything on the wiki on it, but is slavery a thing in this world? Based on the lack of mention I am assuming no, but if so I would like to incorporate it into my character's bio.

It is. Slavery is always a thing in a world of humans...

Actually, slavery isn't a thing in Théah. Aside from the Corsairs who take prisoners to use them for oar power, I've also never seen mention of it. What did you have in mind?

Also, FELI, I'm reading your app now.

[Sky-TheLandOfNekos]

How in the hell did I miss four pages of OOC?

[Doughertania]

How in the hell did I miss four pages of OOC?

You dozed off?

[The Warriors of the Sun]

Character App

Large Image

Name: Abraham Bennet

Age: 28

Bloodline: Human

Gender, Sex, and Sexuality: Male, Male, Straight

Personality: Abraham generally dons a cheerful, yet sarcastic disposition. And he has only became more sarcastic since his death. However, Abraham is very duty-oriented in mind and spirit, his sarcasm being an outward mask to deflect responsibility from himself whenever possible and to generally make a less tense atmosphere for those he is around himself. He is unquestionably loyal to those who are above him or working alongside him. Abraham abhors being put into positions of leadership and authority. Outside of work Abraham becomes a man of impulse, doing whatever it is that fancies him at the moment.

Skills: Excellent duelist and the stamina to do so for hours, and he is skilled in the art of losing money.

Powers: Not worrying about this

Weaknesses Abraham does not refuse duels and trusts others to a fault. He assumes those who have not shown him ill will must be good intentioned and thus trusts them without question until he perceives their intentions have changed. Furthermore, mostly due to personal pride in his swordsmanship he has never turned down a duel. However, this has revealed to him a weakness of his won: he is not quick and when given enough space a quick opponent can make short work of Abraham in a duel.

Faction: Phoenix League

Occupation: Escort, Bodyguard, Muscle

Bio: Abraham was born into a extremely wealthy family within the nation of Avalon. He was the second son, so he was not destined to inherit his family's fortunes, so instead he was tutored by some of the best local swordsmen who were trained in the art of the fighting school of Donovan. He excelled in his training and when he came of age to be considered an adult he joined The Knight of the Table to serve the crown and bring glory to his family's name.

His time within the knight order proved to be extremely enjoyable. At first his family's name gave him a cushioned position within the order where he served mostly as an honor-guard for relatives of the royal family rather than being sent off on dangerous missions. However, in time his ability with a sword and buckler was revealed to his superiors who saw no need to protect him anymore in cushioned positions. Rather with his family name and skills in combat they gave him a small position of leadership where he led a handful of fellow knights.

Unfortunately, skills with a sword and being from a wealthy family never meant Abraham was any good at leading others. His first few missions were just for a show of force and national pride as he led the small group of knights on patrols through the capital. However, on his first real real mission Abraham where he was sent on a witch hunt to track down a sorceress within a noble family who was rumored to be involved in treasonous affairs. While in the end he was successful in apprehending the traitor to the crown, he was the only one to return, the knights under his charge being destroyed by the magic they fought against.

It was well-known by other members of the order that the mission should have been easy. The sorcerer was not skilled, but Abraham led his men straight into a trap. And due to his family's wealth and influence the leadership had no intentions of punishing him, so it fell to the lower-ranking knights. The day after had come back from his mission, after gambling most of his money away, Abraham found himself in alley with fellow knights. But only his peers left the alley as Abraham was left behind with multiple stabs wounds which he slowly died from.

He awoke in a bed and was given an offer by the mysterious group known as the Phoenix League, leave or stay. Abraham felt his form life was gone, he had wasted it and deserved his death. So he stayed, believing that his life now belonged to The Phoenix League since he had already failed at his use of it. For a year since his reawakening he has served primarily as a bodyguard or escort for other members who are less skilled in combat or need extra bodies to support them.

Character Story: At the moment Abraham is aimless in his goals, he seeks to fulfill his duty and not fail as he did in his past life. His goal is to find a purpose beyond mere servitude and to somehow atone for his failure.

Equipment, Weapons, and Vehicles: Sword, buckler, armor.

Likes and Dislikes: Abraham is an avid indulger of the physical pleasures of life; particularly that of food, sport, and visual performances in the form of art or plays. He is also large supporter of dueling for sport which he attempts to involve himself in whenever possible. He genuinely enjoys his duty, particularly when he is escorting someone else as he feels it is another chance to atone for the deaths on his hands and it gives him a chance to feel like the romanticized heroes he heard of in his childhood. Abraham has a child-like fascination when it comes to magic which has little understanding of. Watching sorcerers and sorceresses weave spells brings wonderment and curiosity to Abraham's heart.

However, Abraham shows little positive feelings towards alchemites who he looks upon with either pity or disdain. Those who have made large accomplishments he despises as he sees their abilities as dirty tricks and dishonorable. Where as those who became alchemites to survive he looks upon with pity as they desperately cling to life. He also fears them, unsure of how much of their humanity is intact. Abraham also despises lying, seeing it as dishonorable and a breech of his former knightly code. And finally he avoids alcohol like the plague not wanting to ever mentally impair himself.

RP example:http://forum.nationstates.net/viewtopic.php?f=31&t=288782&start=1150

[Free Empire of the Low Isles]

My question was never answered What is Wales called?

I did answer your question. I had a really big post with a bunch of response lumped in. You were in there. Check the first or second page.

Edit: I answered it on the last post of the first page.

It is. Slavery is always a thing in a world of humans...

Actually, slavery isn't a thing in Théah. Aside from the Corsairs who take prisoners to use them for oar power, I've also never seen mention of it. What did you have in mind?

Also, FELI, I'm reading your app now.

Really? That seems rather... I don't know. Unexpected? It doesn't really make sense that only the Corsairs take slaves... why would they if there wasn't a market for them?

[Relikai]

I did answer your question. I had a really big post with a bunch of response lumped in. You were in there. Check the first or second page.

Edit: I answered it on the last post of the first page.


Actually, slavery isn't a thing in Théah. Aside from the Corsairs who take prisoners to use them for oar power, I've also never seen mention of it. What did you have in mind?

Also, FELI, I'm reading your app now.

Really? That seems rather... I don't know. Unexpected? It doesn't really make sense that only the Corsairs take slaves... why would they if there wasn't a market for them?

So the Corsairs will benefit from the fruits of Slavery, while the rest of the 'civilized world' gets on with paid servants and workers

[Free Empire of the Low Isles]

Really? That seems rather... I don't know. Unexpected? It doesn't really make sense that only the Corsairs take slaves... why would they if there wasn't a market for them?

So the Corsairs will benefit from the fruits of Slavery, while the rest of the 'civilized world' gets on with paid servants and workers

I guess?

*Shrug.*

[Relikai]

So the Corsairs will benefit from the fruits of Slavery, while the rest of the 'civilized world' gets on with paid servants and workers

I guess?

*Shrug.*

I'm just mixing a perspective of William Wilberforce's campaign together with the recent developments in Game of Thrones.

[Free Empire of the Low Isles]

I guess?

*Shrug.*

I'm just mixing a perspective of William Wilberforce's campaign together with the recent developments in Game of Thrones.

I watched that episode tonight.

Hold the door, Relikai.

Hold the fucking door.

[The Warriors of the Sun]

Actually, slavery isn't a thing in Théah. Aside from the Corsairs who take prisoners to use them for oar power, I've also never seen mention of it. What did you have in mind?

Opted to not use them anyway,was going to have slaves he owned be the cause of his death leading to a fear of leading others. But decided to go that route through a knight order instead, couldn't fit slaves into my idea for his story anyways.

[Doughertania]

I did answer your question. I had a really big post with a bunch of response lumped in. You were in there. Check the first or second page.

Edit: I answered it on the last post of the first page.


Actually, slavery isn't a thing in Théah. Aside from the Corsairs who take prisoners to use them for oar power, I've also never seen mention of it. What did you have in mind?

Also, FELI, I'm reading your app now.

Really? That seems rather... I don't know. Unexpected? It doesn't really make sense that only the Corsairs take slaves... why would they if there wasn't a market for them?

As far as I can tell, the Corsairs don't take slaves to sell, but rather to pressgang them into service as oarsmen. Though I'm sure there could be isolated pockets of slavery, so long as it was done in secret.

Also, Sun, I'll read your app after FELI's

[Free Empire of the Low Isles]

Really? That seems rather... I don't know. Unexpected? It doesn't really make sense that only the Corsairs take slaves... why would they if there wasn't a market for them?

As far as I can tell, the Corsairs don't take slaves to sell, but rather to pressgang them into service as oarsmen. Though I'm sure there could be isolated pockets of slavery, so long as it was done in secret.

Also, Sun, I'll read your app after FELI's

Ah, so then my slavery bit in Mazin's bio makes sense still.

[Doughertania]

As far as I can tell, the Corsairs don't take slaves to sell, but rather to pressgang them into service as oarsmen. Though I'm sure there could be isolated pockets of slavery, so long as it was done in secret.

Also, Sun, I'll read your app after FELI's

Ah, so then my slavery bit in Mazin's bio makes sense still.

Yes absolutely. And even if it didn't I'm willing to be flexible so that people can have their backstories work.

[Free Empire of the Low Isles]

Ah, so then my slavery bit in Mazin's bio makes sense still.

Yes absolutely. And even if it didn't I'm willing to be flexible so that people can have their backstories work.

Okay!

Again, sorry the bio is lack luster... I like the character, it's just... not in the best writing frame of mind today...

[Zyvalia]

To be finished. With a tragic death scene of betrayal.

Character App

Name: Astaric Verellyon

Age: 28

Bloodline: Mage

Gender, Sex, and Sexuality: Male, Male, and Heterosexual

Personality: Astaric is confident and cool with himself, at most times. He isn't a stranger to being sociable or a flatterer, yet not a flirt at that, never having any true romantic relations in his life. He gives off a calm, collected, and confident attitude in his mannerisms, but recently, since his "reawakening", he has been haunted by guilt. This guilt taking place in the form of survivor's guilt from him being the sole living one among his friends (his retainers) who stuck with him to the end, and downright guilt from committing the atrocity of killing his own kin, regardless of his intentions or need to. Occasionally he suffers breakdowns from these things, but only alone. He wouldn't dare let anyone see it. Due to the events he has gone through he partially sees himself as a bit of a beast or a monster - and as a part of this, is a bit overly reckless. In all truth....part of him is suicidal.

Skills: Above any of his other combat skills, he is a master of the glaive/naginata/spear, his glaive being his weapon of choice. In a more magical vein, he is adept at his family's unique fire magic born from the thought-extinct "El Fuego Adentro", of which House Verellyon is reportedly the sole surviving practictioners of. He channels his magic into primarily modifying his glaive, making the head of it combust in flame and leave a trail of fire behind with each swing. He also can conjure small bursts of flame in front of him and the occasional fireball, but he mostly uses it to supplement his melee skills. And in addition to the development of his glaive skills, he is quick reflexed and fast on his feet, at the expense of armor.

In regards to non-combatant talents, he truly doesn't have as many as he should. Much of his life was dedicated to being a strong soldier, being the second born son and not the scion his elder brother was made to be. However, Astaric does have a penchant for art and poetry, albeit rather secretly. However, the poems he writes and the paintings he paints seem to have taken a darker turn as of late. Astaric also knows a rather useful amount of knowledge about Syrneth artifacts and things of the like due to his mother teaching him about such things, especially with his natural talent as a "pyromancer" due to his blood. It isn't enough to earn him the place of a scribe in the League's ranks or a consultant on such matters, however.

Powers: (Stage 2) El Fuego Adentro

Weaknesses: With his powerful fire magics, it comes at the cost of being weak to the cold more than the average person. He can't stand the cold anywhere under 40 degrees (Fahrenheit) typically, and due to this, he almost always has a coat with him. In addition to this, he has typically light armor to ensure his ability to move rather fast, so he is a bit less protected than he should be.

And due to losing his arm in the events leading up to his would-be demise, he occasionally has spasms and experiences phantom pain in his right arm...even though it is as if it has always been there. Yet he still feels it at times as if it was still severed; something that can't be rid of with the powers of resurrection.

In regards to his personality, his elevated temper in regards to his "sins" can be exploited to make him careless and overly offensive, generally making him lash out more than he would normally.

Faction: The Phoenix League

Occupation: Soldier. But also acts as an explorer in any ruins that might need explored. And, due to his quick feet, acts as a scout occasionally in the field. Also the designated fire-starter.

Bio:
With Astaric being born into the Verellyon family, a history of them would be neccesary before Astaric's story can be understood. So, without further ado...

Verellyon

House Verellyon of Vodacce began as a small group of El Fuego Adentro mages from generations ago that escaped the purging of their kind in Castille. They fled to Vodacce in order to escape their doom, and in doing so, settled upon one of the barren islands of the area, making their home for generations to come; the same home the Verellyons have to this day. They managed to settle the island under the guise of being traders, hiding their magical truths. Soon the island was bustling, and the Verellyon family, the rulers.

As the family grew through the generations in their new home, they managed to silently and secretly slither their way into the intrigue of Vodacce. They had no relation to the split family of the islands, yet they could play many of them like puppets. In truth, the Verellyons have more influence than they seem, and they use their power as a still unknown entity to their advantage.

Soon enough, however, they began to experience a power struggle of their own. The lower echelons of house Verellyon began to feel powerless throughout the generations, and with it, came a series of usurpations in the house....each of them bloodier and more violent than the previous, it seemed. Soon the house became known as the "House of Blood", the violence within it exceeding even the rest of Vodacce. For many, many years these usurpations continued, until they finally found a cease in the form of Astaric's father, Caelock, the most powerful fire mage in generations of Verellyon lords. He ruled in apparently the only way that was possible now - with power. But not through wanton displays of it - but with power through silence. It was well known through the ranks of Verellyon how powerful Caelock was, but he needed to express it only a choice amount of times to maintain peace in the house. And thus it was done.

However, the bloody history of Verellyon did have effects. Some say the family is "cursed" for this, all descendants of the family since generations ago being born with crimson-red hair to reflect this history. Now all of Verellyon has this trait. In addition to this, it is said that the waters around the island that they call their home is blood red, as if thousands of gallons of blood was spilled into the waters. Whether that is true or not is up to the beholder. The bloody history is there for whomever wants to know, and those who perceive a Verellyon know this to be true from their appearance. The island itself is named simply "The Crimson Isle" for these aspects.

Arguably the most powerful individual in Verellyon today is the matriarch of the family, Adrialla, who reportedly is even more powerful than Lord Caelock. It matters not, however - the two are married after all. And their children are Astaric and his elder brother. It is said that all throughout the family's long history that the Matriarchs had been pulling the strings from behind the shadows, the true control behind everything with their immense Fuego magics. But the truth is shrouded in secrecy - just like the core reason Verellyon exists.

Astaric

Astaric Verellyon is the second son of Lord Caelock and Matriarch Adrialla, born after his older brother Saire by simply two years. Being in the "head" of the family, Astaric had a rather understandably restricted childhood, rarely ever able to leave the gigantic palace that was his home save for rare occasions, much less the island. With Saire being the would-be inheritor of Verellyon, he was trained much more rigorously than Astaric, but most particularly in the sword and the flame, the "Way of the Verellyon" as his father called it. Astaric, on the other hand, was given slightly more freedom. He chose the path of the spear instead when the time came, as opposed to the sword.

Regardless, the two boys had a childhood of training, learning, and little recreation. What little friendship Astaric had was in the form of his barely older retainers that had been vetted by his mother to protect the young adult in the tenacity of the island. These retainers were Astaric's only true friends for his life, it seemed - next to his brother. They weren't Verellyons, yet he trusted them with his life. One was Lucius, a skilled swordsman who favored twin swords; another was Sareth, an male archer and the oldest of the three; and the last was Fiola, the only female of the retainers and one who favored the greatsword...as well as nearly a love interest of Astaric's.

They came into Astaric's life during his teenage years, when he had been undergoing the same path he had his whole life of vigorous training in the spear and the flame. Unrest had began to break out in Verellyon again....yet Astaric knew not why. He had no way of knowing. Regardless, Caelock made certain his younger son had proper security. They were his shoulder to lean onto as well, in addition to Saire, who, even though his duties as the scion of the family, kept time for his younger brother to train with and give him the companionship he knew he needed. Saire and these retainers were the only people Astaric really grew to trust in his life.

Come "adulthood" at the age of twenty, Astaric was finally let out of his intensive training and was given more of a duty now. He was sent by his father directly to combat raiders, bandits, brigands, and so on along with his retainers on the Crimson Isle. In truth, all of this was almost too easy. They seemed hardly fit for combat - it seemed the several years of training had paid off.

As months passed, Astaric was no stranger to bloodshed and killing. His retainers and him were more than friends now - they were brothers in arms. In addition to this, Astaric and Fiola indeed occasionally shared a bed, as many rumors had stated of the illusive "Verellyon Prince". While Saire was the face to the public of what Verellyon would be, Astaric was a phantom, acting on his father's orders constantly with his loyal comrades all while his brother did what a crown prince would do. This system of living continued for years until....

Until Saire's betrayal.

When Astaric was twenty-eight and Saire was thirty, the elder brother walked into his father's chambers and murdered him where he stood. For Astaric, this was unprovoked. His loyal brother, whom he loved with all of his heart, had slain their father in the dead of night, having dueled him to his death. Astaric did what his father would have wanted him to do - he pursued his brother with the three he loved as dearly as his own brother, set on justice. His mother, as distant as she was at times, told Astaric as a young boy that "Only blood can equal blood." This meant that vengeance was to be taken as a tool of justice, as a way to right things. Astaric saw himself as the hand of this Justice in the hunt for his older brother...as much as he wondered why this has happened.

It took a month, but at last, he tracked Saire to the mainland of Vodacce, the small band of four managing to find him after all. As it turned out, Saire had joined forces as the leader of a group of usurpers of the head of Verellyon - the most organized since Caelock rose to power. But Astaric was still so confused....why was he trying to usurp Father when he was the one who would inherit his title?

Astaric then followed Saire to a wide, rocky plain in Vodacce, where at last he found his brother. His true friend once. But now he was a traitor.

Luckily, he caught Saire when he was traveling and only had a small group with him of about twenty. Astaric and his three retainers approached the caravan, not trying to hide or remain unseen. No, they wanted to be seen. Astaric needed to speak to his brother once more, to know why he had done what he did. The two cast aside their weapons for a moment, and spoke once more as brothers.

Saire told Astaric the truth he had not heard. He told him that their father had been manipulating both of them for his gain. The people who Astaric had been slaying weren't raiders or brigands, but would-be usurpers of the house. Father had been doing this for years in his rule once unrest began to occur - he just took care of it so well that no one knew. He had been using assassins the whole time, incredibly efficient ones loyal to Caelock himself. And he had been training Astaric his whole life to be his own one as well. Caelock had been using his power to hold his position all along - and Astaric was just blissfully ignorant and naive.

Astaric was in denial though. He didn't want to believe that he was just a pawn all along. He refused to....as much as he would realize that his brother was right. Saire offered for Astaric to join him to rule the Verellyon house alongside each other. However, Astaric was deep in denial and rage. He refused. As much as his retainers - his friends - tried to convince him otherwise, he refused.

The four took up their arms again, took on Saire's group and....and they prevailed. Or Astaric prevailed - his retainers has perished in that battle, something that Astaric still hasn't forgiven himself for. They were loyal to the end, even though he led them down a path he know knew to be wrong....they died for him. Lucius, Sareth, Fiola....they died for him.

Night fell upon them as they battled, and then rain on top of that, so hard that they drowned the yells of Saire's followers as they fell....and Astaric's retainers as they finally died. What was left was the two brothers, as bloody as their surnames would imply, facing off amidst the fallen bodies.

In a battle of fire, steel, and blood....Astaric won. He had lost his right arm - his spear arm - and slain his brother in combat. In an act that lead to him impaling himself into Saire's blade, he died along with him, his glaive buried into his chest just as his sword was buried into him.

As he bled out, he realized finally that Saire was right....it finally sunk in. Then it hit him that his friends, his potential lover, and his brother died because of his fault.

And then he died.

---

And then he woke up. Resurrected from the dead to be in the League. This was....only a week ago. When he first awoke, he was....possessed, it seemed. Possessed by anger. Despite being damn near stark naked, he knocked an aide unconscious before being "sedated" by another Mage. When he came to a few days later, he was still in denial that he wasn't dead. In fact....he still thinks he is, partially. Regardless, when offered to join this League, he accepted.

Regardless of his state of mind...he couldn't go back to his home. He couldn't. He destroyed that home, killed whatever made it his home. He was a beast. A demon.

Character Story: Astaric, being in a state of guilt that is still incredibly fresh in his mind, struggles internally with his very sense of self now. Still feeling this guilt of losing his dearest friends and slaying his own brother....he feels as if one of them should have taken his place in this second chance of life. His goal is to try to regain his own sense of meaning after learning the truth of his life, and if possible, to find someone to trust and hold onto like those he lost. Ultimately, his quest is one of self-redemption, one where he will try to redeem himself in his own mind, forgive himself for his actions, and try to find a reason to hold on.

Equipment, Weapons, and Vehicles: Light armor forged on the Crimson Isle (see picture), steel glaive, a small lantern worn on his hip as a source of flame, a satchel on his lower back with various painkiller potions for his....pains. Also, a fur coat for the cold.

Likes and Dislikes: In regards to mages and alchemites, he feels rather sympathetic towards them, being a mage himself. However, he understands the importance of wariness. Ultimately, in regards to this, he judges these people based on the merit of the person themselves rather than their powers, believing the former to heavily affect the latter more than anything else. As for his other likes, poetry, paintings, and other forms of "art" fall high on his list. He occasionally drinks as well, but he never truly gets drunk, so he does like alcohol at times. As for dislikes, he despises being alone for too long, as it simply makes him....think again, driving him back down to his mindset of guilt, depression, and...worse thoughts.

RP example:

---

Darkness swept in without any notice; the clashing of steel, the booming of thunder, and the barrage of rain made sure of that. In that formerly empty plain lie corpses of many, too many. More than should be dead that day.

He held her in his arms now - the other two had gone already. Lucius and Sareth, both of them washed away, like their blood in this storm. And he was the rain.

Now he held her in his arms, after years upon years of kinship he knew, he finally knew all in all what it meant to be. But it was too late. As he looked down upon her mouth overflowing with crimson, his hand holding her head up in her once-beautiful red-soaked white blonde hair, all he could muster was tears. But they, too, were washed away in the rain. Her eyes, those lakes of blue, looked up to him in content. She had accepted it. The time had come for her, too, to be washed away.

It was then that Astaric had realized his sins. He had made the wrong choice. If only he would have accepted what he was told. If only he had given into doubt.

The last breath escaped from the crimson lips, her eyes rolling over glazed. Astaric swore he saw a smile on her face. Tears came next like the rain, falling onto her face just as he wondered what could've been. What he could have done right.

He sat dormant there for what felt like an eternity, cradling the body of one he knew in that moment to be beloved to him, tears rushing down his cheeks and onto her face. The soft, gentle, yet oh so brutal hands of the crimson haired man slowly ran from her forehead down to her mouth with an open palm, closing those lakes of blue to never be opened again.

Astaric knew he wanted to die then. But his body wouldn't let himself give up so easily.

Gently, more gently than anything else he had ever done, he laid the body of his beloved retainer onto the blood-soaked dirt below her, before standing up at last.

He stood across from him, watching not with a grin or a frown, but a look of understanding. Saire knew that loss. He knew the feeling. Astaric said no words after that, for he knew what needed be done. In that moment, he felt no contempt for his brother. No....he realized he loved him, just as he always had. But nothing could stop what came next. One of them had to die.

Astaric just hoped it was himself.

"....I understand. Ready yourself, my dear brother." Saire said with a sense of longing and sorrow in his voice. He longed for this to not happen...but he knew how his brother was. He was determined. Trying to sway him otherwise would be a waste of oxygen.

The two both had flames, flames they never let grow outside of secrecy. But now, their flames were infernos, burning hot. They were unquenchable.

With an open palm, Astaric drew the flame from his lantern and guided it to the blade of his war-scarred and bloody glaive, engulfing it in a fire all its own. Saire followed, doing the same to his long sword. These two beacons of light was the only guidance they had in this darkness, the thunder has ceased, only soft rains remained, crying a lament for the duel to come.

"The time has come." Astaric at last broke the silence, getting into stance with his glaive as he held it straight towards Saire in a duel stance.

"Yes....it has." Saire simply replied, making the same gesture with his sword. Then came the clash. The two began to swing at each other perfectly, matching each blow against one another's blade, sparks flying amidst the fire. Astaric was possessed by a degenerated phantom of himself: striking with fury and tenacity. A veritable beast.

Saire made sure to match this, showing no mercy to him. Both of them were a perfect opponent for each other. They trained nearly everyday together, they knew each other's every move. This time, though, it was no sparring session. With each lash of Astaric's glaive, a stream of fire was left behind. Slashes upon slashes began to tear at each other's armor and skin, leaving gashes and burns and blood in its wake.

Astaric made a fault though, and left himself too far open. Saire took the opportunity...and slashed at him, making a clean cut right through his right arm, dropping his glaive and the limb itself. Astaric cried out in pain, not even his adrenaline could stop that. But that pain....that pain was a fuel. Saire stood back slightly, watching his brother struggle as he fell to his knees, blood pouring from where his arm once was.

With his left hand he was able to grab his glaive, right near the blade on the pole. His fight was not yet finished.

Astaric was feral now. A demon. He began to lash out at his brother in a mix of agony and rage, Saire partly too tired to counter it, leading himself to be lashed at all over. Finally, the elder brother fell down to his knees. Astaric was almost out of time. Blood was all around them.

He wasn't going to live....but he was going to finish his duty.

Using what was left of his strength, he flipped the glaive around and held it upside down before taking a leap off of a rock, up and off onto Saire. But Saire's fight was not yet over either. At the last moment he could, he held his burning blade aloft....causing Astaric to plunge right onto it, impaling him in the abdomen.

But Astaric had also met his mark. The glaive's head was buried inside of his elder brother's chest. At last, it had been done. Astaric looked down upon Saire, both in their final moments, in that shared feeling of agony....and they smiled. They had no resentment for one another. Astaric only wished that moment lasted longer....no matter the pain he felt. Saire's eyes closed then, never to open again, leaving Astaric alone in that bloody plain.

The crimson man managed to pull himself off of the blade then...pulling it out and tossing it aside. It was over....he was over. He fell to his knees beside his brother....and the truth finally hit him. All that was said was coming back to haunt him.

Astaric had made the wrong choice. And it costed him everything.

In his final act, all of these emotions came flooding out. His guilt, his hatred for himself, his untold love, his pain all flowed at once. Astaric let out a deep yell, loud enough to pierce the heavens, of anger and sorrow, of sorrow and hatred, of hatred and pain, of pain and love. All of this came together in the most perfect agony ever to exist in an almost beastial yell that pierced the heavens.

Then he fell. And in his last sight, he saw his friends - Lucius, Sareth, Saire, and Fiola, the one he knew he loved, dead. All due to him. The yell echoed, it's twisted harmony his final requiem. Then, in a lake of his own crimson, came the blackness. The abyss.

The beast had found his rest.

[Doughertania]

Yes absolutely. And even if it didn't I'm willing to be flexible so that people can have their backstories work.

Okay!

Again, sorry the bio is lack luster... I like the character, it's just... not in the best writing frame of mind today...

Hey, that's fine. The app's accepted. Welcome to the League! Please move the app to the Archive.

Also, Sun, you are accepted as well. Welcome to the League! Please move your app to the Archive as well.

Zyvalia, I'll read your app once you've finished your bio.

[Zyvalia]

Okay!

Again, sorry the bio is lack luster... I like the character, it's just... not in the best writing frame of mind today...

Hey, that's fine. The app's accepted. Welcome to the League! Please move the app to the Archive.

Also, Sun, you are accepted as well. Welcome to the League! Please move your app to the Archive as well.

Zyvalia, I'll read your app once you've finished your bio.

Bio is finished, just need to get the things that come after that.

[Doughertania]

Hey, that's fine. The app's accepted. Welcome to the League! Please move the app to the Archive.

Also, Sun, you are accepted as well. Welcome to the League! Please move your app to the Archive as well.

Zyvalia, I'll read your app once you've finished your bio.

Bio is finished, just need to get the things that come after that.

Then I'll wait until then. Sorry about the assumption, I read the top about the need to add a dramatic death scene.

[Relikai]

Bio is finished, just need to get the things that come after that.

Then I'll wait until then. Sorry about the assumption, I read the top about the need to add a dramatic death scene.

I hope mine's dramatic enough Maybe the death isnt that drama...

[Zyvalia]

Then I'll wait until then. Sorry about the assumption, I read the top about the need to add a dramatic death scene.

I hope mine's dramatic enough Maybe the death isnt that drama...

If that isn't drama, I don't want to know what is to you.

[Doughertania]

WIP, just staking my claim

Character App

Name: Dagon Argrave

Age: Mid 20's

Bloodline: Human (Castille)

Gender, Sex, and Sexuality: Male, Masculine, Hetero

Personality: (how they interact with others, are they outgoing, are they trusting, are they quick to anger, are they ruled by passion or logic, etc.)

Skills: Thief, Archeologist, limited alchemy

Powers: None

Weaknesses (You need at least two, a physical one and a personality flaw. Must make sense with your backstory and powers, and if someone exploits it you must treat this as a weakness.)

Faction: Phoenix League

Occupation: Archeologist, Thief, Conman. Often in charge of coming up with a plan

Bio: (at least a paragraph. Please include where you're from, what you did before the league, how you died, why you stayed, how long you've been a member, and anything else relevant to your character. You can expand it in the IC, but I want at least these points addressed)

Character Story: (different from your bio. This is your characters goal in life. If they were the main character in a novel, this would be what their arc would be about. Things like self improvement, finding a cause, or revenge works here.)

Equipment, Weapons, and Vehicles: (don't go crazy, and if it's powerful/expensive you must have a good explanation why you have it)

Likes and Dislikes:(Please include their feeling about alchemites and mages)

RP example: Once again, I'm good

[Doughertania]

Then I'll wait until then. Sorry about the assumption, I read the top about the need to add a dramatic death scene.

I hope mine's dramatic enough Maybe the death isnt that drama...

Yeah, I think it's dramatic enough. And if it's not, the circumstances leading to her death makes up for it.

[Zyvalia]

I hope mine's dramatic enough Maybe the death isnt that drama...

Yeah, I think it's dramatic enough. And if it's not, the circumstances leading to her death makes up for it.

I'm busting out the big writing skills for this RP example. I don't care if it's 1 AM.