Post by harupia on Dec 27, 2010 16:04:45 GMT -8
(Optional:)
Your Name: Matthew aka Haru
RP experience: Relatively short (three years or so) but enough to be entertaining in an Rp… I have people to vouch for me if necessary <-<
Age: 19 and 3/4
Gender: Male
(Required:)
-First Character-
Name: Rajvean Ondeoth
Race: Mornaquenta
Gender: Male
Age: 3878
Character Religion: God of Pain, Bjorn
Alignment: Lawful Evil
Character Background:
Likes- Wines, good food, women and the occasional pretty men, killing, sadism, fighting, breaking things, solitude(occasionally) power, crafting
Dislikes- Cowards, were-creatures, weakness, idiots, Ogers, people of other races (Dur Hini to a lasser extent)
Appearance:
An almost picture perfect specimen of his race, Rajvean stands at a 7’2 height, his frame muscular, pale white, and almost flawless, if not counting a quite hefty amount of battle scars, most of the littered all across his chest and arms (most of them small up to mediocre, usually single blade slashes or claw marks, the largest one is a huge gash running all across his stomach as if he was cut right open), though he feels no shame of them, walking around bear cheasted almost all of the time. His jet black hair, while long, is kept in an unusual way= it is short and trimmed in a spiky fashion on his head, a single strand of his air flowing down over his right eye, but he has a huge ponytail made out of hair flowing behind him, going down almost to his ankles. Of course, as an indication of his status in the society, he has the coveted, crimson eyes. As for clothing, as mentioned, he wears nothing to covers his chest and arms. His legs are also barely clothed, only wearing a piece of black silk around his waist, covering his front, and then extending behind him (think like a toga covering only his legs, with its front cut out to cover only his thigh). He an also be seen wearing various jewelry, spoils of war or prizes for his achievements. He also sports a pair of tattoos on his body, one completely covering his back, the other over the upper left part of his chest. When in battle, or generally in a war time, he also wears a custom made set of armor (described latter on)
Behavior: If one of the great minds of Terrastra were to make an book containing knowledge of all the races, and were to start describing the Mornaquenta, Rajvean would most likely be the model for the illustration in the tome. He is anything you’d expect a red eyed Black Elf to be: cruel, sadistic, sensual and devious in any form of way. Full of pride and arrogance, he feel’s he deserves to get whatever he wishes to have. He can act in a slightly childish manner when he cant have something he wants, lunching himself into a ranting fit… or smashing something (or someone) in a fit of aggression. Always demanding attention of everyone around him, he attempts to cover the feeling of emptiness which was left in him because of not having a proper family. He envies his brethren for the closeness they share with their family and at the same time disposes it for them. He always strives to be the strongest, baddest, deadliest, just the best, to show all that he is still better then other’s of his race, that he doesn’t need the bond’s of family… while deep inside, there is still the sad, lonely child, looking for someone to accept him.
Another of his ways to seek acceptance is his devotion to their god… although he shows it in an unusual manner. He pays little time to things like prayers and the like, reasoning that it is not the proper way to worship the god of pain. Instead, he wants to prove himself as his most committed servant by brining as much pain as he can upon the world. In combat, he’s always the first to charge in and draw blood. And while he can be an efficient fighter, dealing with his foes with quick, lethal blows, he very much prefers to toy with them, beat them into barely breathing bloody pulp, so that they feel the most pain possible before he finishes them. He also relishes close contact with his opponents, often trying to press his body against theirs as much as he can before dealing them a long, sadistically painful death.
Outside of combat, he seeks to cause just as much pain as well. Be it roughing up subordinates, bruising his partner up doing mating far more then a typical specimen of his race (even to the point of simply killing them…though that isn’t all that often), or even squeezing as hard as he can on a handshake… he seeks to cause as much pain as he could. He doesn’t even leave himself out of the equation, often training his body to the point of aching muscles and even busted up bones, and taking laughing in the middle of combat as his flesh gets cut into… masochism is also a way to praise their god (although he isn’t foolish enough to simply waltz into a killing blow… he will block or avoid when he feel’s to, as he very much prefers inflicting pain then receiving it)
By the above description one might assume that Rajvean is a big, psychotic, dumb brute…that isn’t exactly the case. He can be very insightful if he wishes…he just doesn’t do so often. While physical strain and exhaustion seem to pleasure him, using his mind just seems too much of a nuisance to him, as he can achieve the same with his brawn. He could be seductive, but he much prefers to “convince” a mate by other means… he can TRY to defend his opinion with eloquence (though usually his little knowledge of things doesn’t help with that) but he very much prefers to beat others into thinking like him…and seeing as how he needed worry he’ll punch someone he shouldn’t, he just that. Around the few he does respect, he tried to act a bit tamer.
Also, most of his intelligence shows itself in battle. While being the first to rush in and the last to retreat, he is very aware of everything in between those phases. He knows where and when to strike to cause the most pain, and gives out sharp and effective commands even in the most chaotic of battles. That’s where his mind really shines…and then he lets it rest, indulging himself in his usual pleasure in his usual bratty manner.
There is also a rather blaring flaw in his character: his temper. Rajvean has a very short fuse too pretty much anything. Bring him his meal to late, shun away his advances, simply comment on his scars not looking attractive, he will most likely explode with either a tantrum, or a fist to the face. He is more level headed in battle, the joy of causing pain allowing him to be at ease…but if someone does manage to enrage him, he will not rest till he hunts them down, ready to disregard any orders he was given, or he himself even gave out… and if by any chances that someone survives, you can be sure he will hold a long grudge…possibly eternal.
History: For a race of such great passion and love of the pleasures of the flesh, the birth of a child in the Black Forrest was extremely rare… each pair oh so wanted a little combination of their genes and love, to bring another member to their society, a perfect gift to their god Bjorn… Those of exceptional might were even expected to do as much, as their genetics were too valuable not to be passed on the next generations… especially if they were one of the coveted, ones with the Red Eyes… Locien Ondeath, one of the first general’s of the Mornaquent, handpicked by their ruler after he imposed his dominance army, felt a special need to create a heir, to be the first from all the general’s to achieve such a feat, and thus prove his superiority and solidify the status of his family as one of the highest in their newly forming society… besides, he simply loved his mate of life, Náriel, one of the most beautiful and desired females of her time( some dared even to compare her to the King’s wife… obviously, they did not live long) to much not to try… and they did so for century after century, time and time again failing… Locien did all in his might, kept his lust only to his wife, killed anyone who would try to quench his own lust along with her, serving his king and god loyal, brining immense pain to his opponents, everything in hopes that he could Finnaly pass on his essence into another body… and finally, it had been done… his mate was expecting a child… unfortunately, it turned out to be harder for his mate then he expected. They knew of the difficulties of child birth, but for his mate, almost every day of the carriage was a painful experience. The more time passed, the bigger the pain had the Mornaquent felt…but she endured, along with her mate, happy they could finally bring a new child for their god, feeling deep within them the child would be special… and finally, the day of labor came, and thus, with a usual shriek of a new born child, came to be a newborn, Red-Eyed Black Elf… Lociens dream had come true, and yet, he could not rejoice… though in the first moments of his life, Rajvean claimed his first victim. His mother had not survived the birth, giving her last breath almost along with his first.
His father had been in much anguish and conflict over the matter. On one hand, he had a child, one of the most precious gifts of this world, a great honor, privilege, a source of potential pride and joy…and at the same time, the same being took away his mate, that one, special women, which he was supposed to be bounded to for eternity. And thus, while never even thinking of hurting, or mistreating his child, he could not find himself able to show any affection towards him… he was indifferent, only making sure he was healthy, and rising him along with his peoples tradition.
And so little Rajvean grew, the harshness of the Mornaquent society rubbing of him. His father ignored him, while other of his people tended to openly beret him, openly accusing him of causing the death of his mother. He was too little to understand much of it really but he knew one thing: for some reason, the people did not love him as much as the other rare Mornaquent children he met…and he did not enjoy it at all. He would often let out his frustrations throwing angry fits, or breaking things around him… he was a rather wild child. His father simply suggested that if he had that much energy, he should start practicing combat earlier. His first fight quite an interesting event, upon which many urban rumors had formed through the ages…Rajvean had twisted it out of proportions in today’s times, claiming that he managed to defeat a grown up expert swordsman as a child, using only his fists… most either don’t really remember the event that well, or simply nod in agreement not wanting to deal with another angry fit. In truth the fighter was merely s simple trainer, an orange eyed grunt. Still, seeing how Rajvean was a child back then, he outmatched him by far, giving the small child very little chance, which in turn quickly frustrated him... What surprised the ones witnessing the first fight was him first bending his given blade with his bare hands, curving it in an almost 90 degree fashion… what the followed was him chagrin at his teacher with his fists only. His quickness, along with the trainer being surprised, allowed him to knock him of his feet with one blow, and then quickly cripple his attempts to fight with a blade by stomping down hard on his wrist… all the while the still young Rajvean was smiling rather widely, enjoying his victory a bit to much… As some of the other trainers tried restrained the young Black Elf, Locien who watched from aside could not help to feel a twinge of pride in his heart…which only made the memory of his wife all the more painful.
It didn’t take a genius to see the red-eyed Mornaquent had a knack for combat… though it was an unusual one indeed. He detested any form of weaponry, relaying on the strength of his own limbs. And as he now focused all of his passion and frustration into training, it came up with surprising results. He spent years upon years training his body and limbs, soon becoming a peak specimen of his own race. While not adapt in using weapons, he could easily outmaneuver or over power those of an age close to him, and even some less experienced older warriors. Many were puzzled as to how an unruly child improve as much on his own, with no trainers managing to get through him enough to truly try and train with him… some said it was some bizarre form of magika, some claimed that the god Bjorn himself had taken a liking in the child…it did not matter to him. His only goal was to strengthen himself, and gain the approval of those around him…especially of his father, who however still held up his indifferent façade when around him.
One his age was right, he was quickly drafted into the army. In spite of his father being one of the general’s he did not do a single thing to try and gain him a rank from the start, leaving him to be one of the grunt soldiers. Still, it was a position he’d came to enjoy, always being the first to throw himself into the enemy, always claiming the first head. Even then, he held up his unorthodox method, practically beating and ripping his opponents apart bare handed. His first great test came with the golden war’s, where he first met his cousins, the Dur Hini… while still upholding an air of arrogance when round them, it was more because he felt HE alone was better then them, not that they were a worse race. Other then that, he just saw them as potential folk to impress with his prowess…. Another story emerged from this time, a tale as if he singlehandedly fell a dragon, crushing its neck in between his arms… the truth was a bit less boastful. He indeed cast himself on one of the dragons, and seeing his fists could not penetrate its skin, managed to climb up and wrap his arms around its long neck to attempt to choke it… while it proved as not much then a bit nuisance for the beast, it distracted it enough for his Mornaquent and Dur Hini allies to attack it until it fell…still, it did bring him quite a few words of praise, or and berating from his leaders for his foolhardiness… what mattered to him was gaining attention. He even remembered helping carry on of the Dark elves to his brethren, who were earlier unlucky to get his leg crippled by the scaly beast…, that was a good time. All the while, he tried always to be the most valuable soldier, seeking the praise of all of his kind, but especially his father, the general… Still, whatever he’d do, Locien would remain indifferent, hiding behind the differences of rank in the military, and how family ties could not cloud ones mind in battle…
After the Golden War, Rajvean was beginning to gain some infamy amongst his kin’s men. Now more of a men then a child, he started indulging himself in the typical pleasures, discovering that outside of combat there were feasts, wine, and of course women…and some of the more beautiful men. Still, he had never neglected his training. He was becoming more and more aware of his own strengths and weakness, and how to work in improving himself. He had also taken up some of studies which could help him achieve even more power, mainly the art of magical augmenting, but also some more unusual things like animal wildlife, or what the Black elves knew about the anatomy of other races. It all had a purpose though, as he learned during the golden war simply smacking others around with his fists and legs won’t always work. He had learned f the strong and weak spots of the body, and observed the wildlife of the dark forest, trying to dissect jus what in their build and movements made them the perfect predators they were. By the end of the Second age, he had become renowned as one of the most dangerous, if not unusual warriors of the Mornaquent. Not only was he stronger and faster then most men, he had enough skill within his hands and legs to quickly dispose of any opponent, not only be curling his hand in a fist, but using his elbows, knees, twisting their bodies in way’s it shouldn’t… deep within the Black Forrest, the fist stopped being a weapon of a rowdy drunkard, and became a new form a combat… and in the minds of some, a brutal art. While his fame grew over his kinsmen slowly but steadily, most forgetting the uncommon situation of his birth (or him beating anyone who dared mention it), his father still keep distant to him, reasoning that he was old enough to look after himself… so he kept to himself, trying to find satisfaction in the typical joy’s of life…and still, the weird emptiness would not stop bothering him.
And thus he was met with the Dark Age… a time most see as the darkest, worst part of their worlds history… for him, it was the greatest time in his life. His forces squared of against their new cousins, the Sacrifi… a for stronger, faster then any other he met before… he was looking forward to the war. Ina addition, it would be a test of how worthy of leader he could be, as he mange to gain a rank of lieutenant in this conflict, based on his quite pleasing performance in the golden war, the improvements he made in his style, and of course the fact he was a red eyed son of one of the generals. He had proven capable enough, managing to lead his troops into combat causing much damage to the Sacrifi troops, while managing to keep casualties to minimum. And besides, he finally had the chance to be close to his father over a prolonged time. While he still tried to sustain an air of indifference, Locien could not help to bond more and more with his child, as they were tied by battle by day, and the cramped camp space by night. Seeing how rowdy Rajvean could be, someone had to try and stop him from wracking too much havoc…and his father was pretty much the only one he didn’t want to smash on sight. They spent some time talking, Rajvean sharing his thoughts of combat and asking of things from his father’s youth, especially of his mother…while still hurting, the joy of truly getting to know his son was slowly soothing it away.
And likewise, Rajvean also seemed to be soothed, to be finding some peace…and then it happened. During one night, as they stood up alters consumed by their talks, they saw a single aslant advancing towards the camp: A Sacrifi assassin. As foolhardy as ever, Rajvean told his father to warn the others, while he charged his distance cousin. The battle which ensued was as vicious as one could imagine. While most likely not the strongest of his kind, Rajvean had a lot of trouble with this opponent: their were almost equally strong, and besides that, the Sacrifi had a huge advantage in speed. But to his aid Rajvean had his unorthodox style. Completely focused on his foe, he didn’t even notice the scrams coming from the camp as more of the scouts came out attacking his brethren. He focused on his opponent, battering him, breaking one bone in his body after another…it even seemed he was wining for a short time…but in his foolish charge, he ran right into a slash of the Sacrifis weapon, looking somewhat like a oversized butcher clever, which hit him right across his stomach, ripping it practically open…just before he would be finished, he saw another of his kin jump on the wounded Sacrifi from behind… unfortunately, it was strong enough to shove his savior of, an swing his weapon at him… but that in turn gave Rajvean a moment to jump on his back, and using all the strength in his arms, he wrapped them round its neck, managing to snap it with a sickening sound. As he stood over the corpse of his opponent, he wobbled towards the other Black elf, grinning wide at his achievement…the grin turned into a very grim expression as he saw that the one who saved him was his father…with his head almost cut of from his neck…after that he feinted of his wounds, only mentally letting out a scream of anguish…
He had awaken a few weeks later in the healing ward, with his largest scar to boot on his stomach…and with the news of the truce which was formed… This news did not sit well with him, as he raged upon the healing house, and out into the city… he managed to wrack a few places, and ended up beating up a few of his own kind in perspective… many of the Mornaquenta tried to stop him, but none could really stop the raging warrior… only as king Rydal came by, assuming the rather unruly Mornaquenta would react like this to the news, and saw his state, he promptly calmed him by smacking him across the face, with Rajvean ending up crushing into the wall… and he sat there, tears streaming down his eyes… the void which seemed to be filing itself was own once again torn open… and for once, he could care less what other would think of him.
After calming down, Rajvean found himself in quite a dilemma what to do. He wasn’t worried for his well being, being a lieutenant of the military himself, and the son of a respected general, he had a rather high status amongst the people… and even if someone minded, he could just smack theme around. For the most part of the Sacrifi age, he pretty much did what he sued to do before: feast, drink, bed with as many women (or the occasional men) as he could, and tired to improve his fighting style. He became a bit even more unstable, usually throwing out quite a fit of rage whoever it was, and sending off solider after solider to the healing ward after they trained with him… However, king Rydal had attempted to try and sooth the raging Black Elf. While rather detested, Rajvean did respect the ancient power of the men, and was rather taken aback by the calmness of his leader…lacking any sort of family now, he kind of subconsciously started threatening him as a sort of father figure… after 300 years, he calmed down significantly, though he still was the usual, childish, self-indulgent, quite psychotic Mornaquenta. While still practicing his fighting and trying to improve his strength and speed, he also started to work on some more peaceful aspects of warfare. Buying the aid of some of the master smiths and augment specialist, he began to study, and at the same time, started to craft his own special set of armor…it took a half of age, but by that time, he managed to acquire quite a big mastery over the matter, and crafted the basis of his armor, which he would improve till today’s times.
And so had passed away the time under their bigger cousins rule, and it was pretty much uneventful for the Black Elf. On some years he would use his riches and social status to feed his rather carnal desires, on other years he would hide himself away from the world, perfecting his fighting techniques and getting back into shape after the years of previous festivities. Thought the years, he also had a rather unruly relationship with the Sacrifi, openly flaunting the fact he was able to single handedly kill one of their so called batter cousins (another story no one has the possibility, and also guts to question), often ending up in some conflicts with those of the Sacrifi which where present in the city. And years went on, everything took a turn again. He was one of the first to see the change in their de-facto rulers… and one of the first to raise his arms (literary) at their now perverted from. While still formidable, these Ogre’s as they would be called were no match for him at this point… still, it was satisfying to get rid of the stinking pricks. And after a few days, he would let out a roar of victory as he held up the head of the last Ogre, ne he ripped of with his bare hands… and the other Mornaquenta would follow, finally free of their occupation.
Sadly, the coming centuries were not that eventful. While all the other races needed to rebuild themselves, the Mornaquenta were pretty much unscathed from the whole ordeal… he felt now would be a good time to strike out t the other races, expand their territory…and to get some more heads on his tally. While he was widely regarded as a fearsome fighter and capable commander, the only thing stopping him from attaining the rank of General was the mark of a 1000 victims…still needed a hundred or so more. Sadly, king Tyr did not feel the need for conquest, and after a good smacking, Rajvean was humbled again. So he feel into the same routine as usual, switching from enjoying his hedonistic lifestyle, to training his body to be stronger and stronger, as well as still crafting round with his amour. At times, the memory of his family, or rather the lack of it, and the thought of a wasted childhood, maybe even life came to mind…but he quickly silenced it in one way or another.
Fortunately for him, the chance to prove himself came with the 5th age, and the war of with the De’Mira. Rajvean was as giddy as a child which received a new toy. As usual, as soon as the war was announced, he was the first to rush into combat, this time along with a greater group of underlings… seemed the other generals wanted to ask just how capable he would be. And the results proved quite satisfying, as he managed to lead his troops with great efficiency and low losses, while at the same time indulging in his frenzy of violence…though he had a tendency to lose control after getting to much into the thick of a battle, but by then he didn’t need to give much orders around. Close by the end of the first year of the fight, ha managed to mark his 1000 victim, and thus had gained his promotion to the rank of general
While some were weary of placing such an unstable individual in such a high rank, his experience, physical conditions, and also a sense of respect he gained from his race didn’t leave much room for protest. And through out the De’Mira war it proved a good choice. While he did lack a more insightful, tactical approach to battle, he knew the basics of combat on a bigger scale, and while straight forward in his approach, he’s leadership had proven to be effective. And the troops liked him as well. Not many generals would stride into battle ahead of their men, and draw out so much attention from the opponent… as ferocious as the Mornaquenta can be, the ones of Yellow and Orange eyes were a bit calmer, and tended to value their life over the joy’s of combat…Rajvean had no such problems.
After this conflict, things came back to his usual post war activates. Now as a general, he had to attend to also take part in the more sophisticated social life… not a good match for him as one could imagine, but a least he could spend some more time with their king, who he grew to respect even more through the years. In a nutshell, he was enjoying the pleasures of life, working on making his body even stronger…and waiting for a good occasion to use this strength.
Apparel
Name: Black Silk half Toga
Discription: A pieace of cloth going down to the end of his legs calf’s, covering his lower body. As the material suggests, it is pitch black, decorated with red tribal like markings.
Pictures:Toga:
(note: it is only a reference pic to give an idea of how the clothing looks. The Red sash is not present, the toga itself is longer on Rajvean)
History: Custom made by a tailor of his race, which he visits quite commonly in case his cloths get destroyed in the heat of battle
In addition, he has a wide collection of jewelry, usually changing it from one occasion to another.
Weapons/ Battle Apparel
In Rajveans case, his armor is mostly for the most part the only weapon he uses. Through years of crafting and magical augmentation (at first with outside assistance, then on his own) he had managed to create a set of armor with quite unusual qualities.
Name: Berserker Armor
Description: At first glance, it may seem as a form of light armor, consisting of a breastplate (also covering his back), a pair of shoulder and arm guards, as well as clawed gauntlets, as well as a pair of leg guards and armored boots. Each part is pitching black, made out of the finest Baryl, making it extremely durable. In addition, the armor pulses once every few seconds, showing of a set of red, tribal marks placed on each part, indicating the magical augmentations made on each part of the armor.
In addition, there are a total of six crystals imbued into the armor: two at the forearm and shin parts of his gloves and leg guards respectfully, one in the middle of his chest piece, and the last part in the part of armor covering his thigh. There is an additional gem placed on his back, but it different from the six ones mentioned earlier.
Image: General Armor:
Gloves:
Weapon capabilities: At the most basic level, his armor does just what it’s supposed to do, offer protection. The material it was made of can defend Rajveans body from most but the strongest of blows, be it of magical or physical nature. This is also due to the magical augmentations placed on the armor: each time an attack strikes against the armor, half of the energy behind the attack (by it someone magicka, or the pure kinetic power behind a physical attack), and focuses it around the crystals which are placed on his armor. The amount o attack needed to charge one crystal varies, but basically the stronger the hit, the faster it can fill the crystal. Once filled with energy, Rajvean gains access to a number of special abilities, gaining more with the more the crystals he has filled with energy. Each usage of the skills has its cost, as the backlash from the energy use may cause pain to Rajvena himself, greater with the increasing amount of crystals to use. Also, once used, the crystals need to cool down before they can be charged again (two post time)
1 crystal: With one charge at his disposal, Rajvean may use it to enhance on of his punches or kicks with the imbued power, rising his already monstrous strength to level that punching through lesser a plate armor of lesser material proves to be easy.
2 crystals: With two at his disposal, he may channel the energy to his feet, causing him to gain an exceptional amount of speed for a minimal amount of time, allowing him to perform a flash like maneuver, moving so fast that an untrained eye could confuse it as a form of teleportation.
3 crystals: Rajvean can use the energy in a more concentrated manner, focusing it around his arm, and thrusting them forward, creating a powerful shockwave. While not extremely damaging, tit has enough energy to propel anything on its way far back, be it an object or opponent, or to simply stop an incoming attack by clashing with it.
4 crystals: Rajveans gains the possibility to use a projectile like attack, focusing the energies around his leg or arm, and swinging it in at the enemy’s direction. The product of this move is a crescent like attack, with immense cutting power, easily capable to cut through thick, solid boulder.
5 crystals: Similar effect to the 3 crystal attack, only his time, and the projectile is much more unstable, causing an immense explosion upon impact with a target (range 20 feet).
6 crystals: The final, most destructive ability. Once the 6 charges are gather, Rajvean may start to focus the energies around his armor, which takes a set amount of time, increasing if he does so during movement (2 posts while immobile, 5 if moving), during which the augment marks of his armor start flashing more and more with a crimson red glow. After the needed time expires, all of the energy is released in an explosion greater then the one of the previous ability (35 feet range), evaporating nearly anything within the blasts range, unless it has sufficient durable armor. On the flip side, being in the epicenter of such an explosion takes a great toll on Rajvean himself, usually leaving him in a state barely capable of fighting, if not flat out unconscious
Weapon: Meat Hook
More of a utility item for Rajvean, it is something he adopted to use on more cowardly opponents. Basically it is a giant hook which could be easily seen in a butcher’s workshop, dead meat hanging of it. It is bound with augment magic to the gem on the back of his armor. It works as a magical chain for the weapon, which extends up to 15 feet. The usual tactic Rajvean employs with this weapon is to throw it at an opponent, and hook him by his body to drag him back for more fighting.
Abilities
Ability Name: Martial Artisit
Ability Effect: Rajvean managed to attain a mastery of with using his limbs as weapons greater then any other being known to the citizens of Terreastar. It was not only Centuries of combat experience, training physically to the verge of death, but also experience of the fighting styles of other beings, and also watching the natural behavior of the many predator animals living in the black forest, and analyzing the way the human body works. Thus he became a true master of hand to hand combat, his style a true form of art to behold. The combined grace of his moves and the sheer power behind them make it a sight that not many can tell the world about.
Ability Name: Grappling
Ability Effect: A sort of extension on his mastery of Hand to hand combat. He know not only how to strike, but also how to grab a hold of the enemy in ways to restrict his movements, and at the same time prepare him for even more devastating attacks from him.
Ability Name: Never give in
Ability Effect: Surrender is not a word Rajvean uses in his vocabulary. He will fight to the bitter end, no matter how bad the fight is going, unless someone drags him away from it by force.
Ability Name: Tank
Ability Effect: Those with this attribute will be ultra strong and ultra durable. Able to take hits better than anyone and makes their own strikes quite formidable themselves.
Ability Name: Crimson Rage
Ability Effect: Named so due too the color of his eyes. While always enjoying combat, Rajvean sometimes allows himself to be completely consumed by the heat of battle, usually when facing a formidable opponent or army. Once in this state, with each second he is in battle, his blood boils for more. He locks himself in a semi-meditative stance, focusing only on combat, increasing in strength and speed with each passing second. Any wound he sustains means nothing to him, what matters is the fight, and the death of his opponent. This may of course lead to him overstraining himself, but he won’t worry about such trivial things in the middle of a fight.
Ability Name: Inspiring figure
Ability Effect: Rajvean affects the battlefield by his presence alone. Those of his own race feel more confident and during with him, his prowess and the fact he will focus most of the attention on himself boosting their moral. Those fighting against him might feel uneasy, or even frightened by his actions on the field.
Magika
Magika Name: Imbue
Discription: Used by only the most gifted wizards and sorcerers in the land. It is the art of enchanting items with the effects of the spells one knows. It can range from making a chest shoot fireballs at whoever opens it to making a doorway that opens to different locations depending on circumstances. The possibilities are endless.
Level of Mastery: Rajvean had managed to excel in the defining art of magika available for his race, the ability to imbue weapons with all sorts of augmentations. Given enough time, he can create a weapon or armor, and to a lesser extent also other things such as chests or daily appliances, having any sort of effect. Though, he focuses mostly on weaponry, seeing augmenting other things as unworthy of his skill.
Your Name: Matthew aka Haru
RP experience: Relatively short (three years or so) but enough to be entertaining in an Rp… I have people to vouch for me if necessary <-<
Age: 19 and 3/4
Gender: Male
(Required:)
-First Character-
Name: Rajvean Ondeoth
Race: Mornaquenta
Gender: Male
Age: 3878
Character Religion: God of Pain, Bjorn
Alignment: Lawful Evil
Character Background:
Likes- Wines, good food, women and the occasional pretty men, killing, sadism, fighting, breaking things, solitude(occasionally) power, crafting
Dislikes- Cowards, were-creatures, weakness, idiots, Ogers, people of other races (Dur Hini to a lasser extent)
Appearance:
An almost picture perfect specimen of his race, Rajvean stands at a 7’2 height, his frame muscular, pale white, and almost flawless, if not counting a quite hefty amount of battle scars, most of the littered all across his chest and arms (most of them small up to mediocre, usually single blade slashes or claw marks, the largest one is a huge gash running all across his stomach as if he was cut right open), though he feels no shame of them, walking around bear cheasted almost all of the time. His jet black hair, while long, is kept in an unusual way= it is short and trimmed in a spiky fashion on his head, a single strand of his air flowing down over his right eye, but he has a huge ponytail made out of hair flowing behind him, going down almost to his ankles. Of course, as an indication of his status in the society, he has the coveted, crimson eyes. As for clothing, as mentioned, he wears nothing to covers his chest and arms. His legs are also barely clothed, only wearing a piece of black silk around his waist, covering his front, and then extending behind him (think like a toga covering only his legs, with its front cut out to cover only his thigh). He an also be seen wearing various jewelry, spoils of war or prizes for his achievements. He also sports a pair of tattoos on his body, one completely covering his back, the other over the upper left part of his chest. When in battle, or generally in a war time, he also wears a custom made set of armor (described latter on)
Behavior: If one of the great minds of Terrastra were to make an book containing knowledge of all the races, and were to start describing the Mornaquenta, Rajvean would most likely be the model for the illustration in the tome. He is anything you’d expect a red eyed Black Elf to be: cruel, sadistic, sensual and devious in any form of way. Full of pride and arrogance, he feel’s he deserves to get whatever he wishes to have. He can act in a slightly childish manner when he cant have something he wants, lunching himself into a ranting fit… or smashing something (or someone) in a fit of aggression. Always demanding attention of everyone around him, he attempts to cover the feeling of emptiness which was left in him because of not having a proper family. He envies his brethren for the closeness they share with their family and at the same time disposes it for them. He always strives to be the strongest, baddest, deadliest, just the best, to show all that he is still better then other’s of his race, that he doesn’t need the bond’s of family… while deep inside, there is still the sad, lonely child, looking for someone to accept him.
Another of his ways to seek acceptance is his devotion to their god… although he shows it in an unusual manner. He pays little time to things like prayers and the like, reasoning that it is not the proper way to worship the god of pain. Instead, he wants to prove himself as his most committed servant by brining as much pain as he can upon the world. In combat, he’s always the first to charge in and draw blood. And while he can be an efficient fighter, dealing with his foes with quick, lethal blows, he very much prefers to toy with them, beat them into barely breathing bloody pulp, so that they feel the most pain possible before he finishes them. He also relishes close contact with his opponents, often trying to press his body against theirs as much as he can before dealing them a long, sadistically painful death.
Outside of combat, he seeks to cause just as much pain as well. Be it roughing up subordinates, bruising his partner up doing mating far more then a typical specimen of his race (even to the point of simply killing them…though that isn’t all that often), or even squeezing as hard as he can on a handshake… he seeks to cause as much pain as he could. He doesn’t even leave himself out of the equation, often training his body to the point of aching muscles and even busted up bones, and taking laughing in the middle of combat as his flesh gets cut into… masochism is also a way to praise their god (although he isn’t foolish enough to simply waltz into a killing blow… he will block or avoid when he feel’s to, as he very much prefers inflicting pain then receiving it)
By the above description one might assume that Rajvean is a big, psychotic, dumb brute…that isn’t exactly the case. He can be very insightful if he wishes…he just doesn’t do so often. While physical strain and exhaustion seem to pleasure him, using his mind just seems too much of a nuisance to him, as he can achieve the same with his brawn. He could be seductive, but he much prefers to “convince” a mate by other means… he can TRY to defend his opinion with eloquence (though usually his little knowledge of things doesn’t help with that) but he very much prefers to beat others into thinking like him…and seeing as how he needed worry he’ll punch someone he shouldn’t, he just that. Around the few he does respect, he tried to act a bit tamer.
Also, most of his intelligence shows itself in battle. While being the first to rush in and the last to retreat, he is very aware of everything in between those phases. He knows where and when to strike to cause the most pain, and gives out sharp and effective commands even in the most chaotic of battles. That’s where his mind really shines…and then he lets it rest, indulging himself in his usual pleasure in his usual bratty manner.
There is also a rather blaring flaw in his character: his temper. Rajvean has a very short fuse too pretty much anything. Bring him his meal to late, shun away his advances, simply comment on his scars not looking attractive, he will most likely explode with either a tantrum, or a fist to the face. He is more level headed in battle, the joy of causing pain allowing him to be at ease…but if someone does manage to enrage him, he will not rest till he hunts them down, ready to disregard any orders he was given, or he himself even gave out… and if by any chances that someone survives, you can be sure he will hold a long grudge…possibly eternal.
History: For a race of such great passion and love of the pleasures of the flesh, the birth of a child in the Black Forrest was extremely rare… each pair oh so wanted a little combination of their genes and love, to bring another member to their society, a perfect gift to their god Bjorn… Those of exceptional might were even expected to do as much, as their genetics were too valuable not to be passed on the next generations… especially if they were one of the coveted, ones with the Red Eyes… Locien Ondeath, one of the first general’s of the Mornaquent, handpicked by their ruler after he imposed his dominance army, felt a special need to create a heir, to be the first from all the general’s to achieve such a feat, and thus prove his superiority and solidify the status of his family as one of the highest in their newly forming society… besides, he simply loved his mate of life, Náriel, one of the most beautiful and desired females of her time( some dared even to compare her to the King’s wife… obviously, they did not live long) to much not to try… and they did so for century after century, time and time again failing… Locien did all in his might, kept his lust only to his wife, killed anyone who would try to quench his own lust along with her, serving his king and god loyal, brining immense pain to his opponents, everything in hopes that he could Finnaly pass on his essence into another body… and finally, it had been done… his mate was expecting a child… unfortunately, it turned out to be harder for his mate then he expected. They knew of the difficulties of child birth, but for his mate, almost every day of the carriage was a painful experience. The more time passed, the bigger the pain had the Mornaquent felt…but she endured, along with her mate, happy they could finally bring a new child for their god, feeling deep within them the child would be special… and finally, the day of labor came, and thus, with a usual shriek of a new born child, came to be a newborn, Red-Eyed Black Elf… Lociens dream had come true, and yet, he could not rejoice… though in the first moments of his life, Rajvean claimed his first victim. His mother had not survived the birth, giving her last breath almost along with his first.
His father had been in much anguish and conflict over the matter. On one hand, he had a child, one of the most precious gifts of this world, a great honor, privilege, a source of potential pride and joy…and at the same time, the same being took away his mate, that one, special women, which he was supposed to be bounded to for eternity. And thus, while never even thinking of hurting, or mistreating his child, he could not find himself able to show any affection towards him… he was indifferent, only making sure he was healthy, and rising him along with his peoples tradition.
And so little Rajvean grew, the harshness of the Mornaquent society rubbing of him. His father ignored him, while other of his people tended to openly beret him, openly accusing him of causing the death of his mother. He was too little to understand much of it really but he knew one thing: for some reason, the people did not love him as much as the other rare Mornaquent children he met…and he did not enjoy it at all. He would often let out his frustrations throwing angry fits, or breaking things around him… he was a rather wild child. His father simply suggested that if he had that much energy, he should start practicing combat earlier. His first fight quite an interesting event, upon which many urban rumors had formed through the ages…Rajvean had twisted it out of proportions in today’s times, claiming that he managed to defeat a grown up expert swordsman as a child, using only his fists… most either don’t really remember the event that well, or simply nod in agreement not wanting to deal with another angry fit. In truth the fighter was merely s simple trainer, an orange eyed grunt. Still, seeing how Rajvean was a child back then, he outmatched him by far, giving the small child very little chance, which in turn quickly frustrated him... What surprised the ones witnessing the first fight was him first bending his given blade with his bare hands, curving it in an almost 90 degree fashion… what the followed was him chagrin at his teacher with his fists only. His quickness, along with the trainer being surprised, allowed him to knock him of his feet with one blow, and then quickly cripple his attempts to fight with a blade by stomping down hard on his wrist… all the while the still young Rajvean was smiling rather widely, enjoying his victory a bit to much… As some of the other trainers tried restrained the young Black Elf, Locien who watched from aside could not help to feel a twinge of pride in his heart…which only made the memory of his wife all the more painful.
It didn’t take a genius to see the red-eyed Mornaquent had a knack for combat… though it was an unusual one indeed. He detested any form of weaponry, relaying on the strength of his own limbs. And as he now focused all of his passion and frustration into training, it came up with surprising results. He spent years upon years training his body and limbs, soon becoming a peak specimen of his own race. While not adapt in using weapons, he could easily outmaneuver or over power those of an age close to him, and even some less experienced older warriors. Many were puzzled as to how an unruly child improve as much on his own, with no trainers managing to get through him enough to truly try and train with him… some said it was some bizarre form of magika, some claimed that the god Bjorn himself had taken a liking in the child…it did not matter to him. His only goal was to strengthen himself, and gain the approval of those around him…especially of his father, who however still held up his indifferent façade when around him.
One his age was right, he was quickly drafted into the army. In spite of his father being one of the general’s he did not do a single thing to try and gain him a rank from the start, leaving him to be one of the grunt soldiers. Still, it was a position he’d came to enjoy, always being the first to throw himself into the enemy, always claiming the first head. Even then, he held up his unorthodox method, practically beating and ripping his opponents apart bare handed. His first great test came with the golden war’s, where he first met his cousins, the Dur Hini… while still upholding an air of arrogance when round them, it was more because he felt HE alone was better then them, not that they were a worse race. Other then that, he just saw them as potential folk to impress with his prowess…. Another story emerged from this time, a tale as if he singlehandedly fell a dragon, crushing its neck in between his arms… the truth was a bit less boastful. He indeed cast himself on one of the dragons, and seeing his fists could not penetrate its skin, managed to climb up and wrap his arms around its long neck to attempt to choke it… while it proved as not much then a bit nuisance for the beast, it distracted it enough for his Mornaquent and Dur Hini allies to attack it until it fell…still, it did bring him quite a few words of praise, or and berating from his leaders for his foolhardiness… what mattered to him was gaining attention. He even remembered helping carry on of the Dark elves to his brethren, who were earlier unlucky to get his leg crippled by the scaly beast…, that was a good time. All the while, he tried always to be the most valuable soldier, seeking the praise of all of his kind, but especially his father, the general… Still, whatever he’d do, Locien would remain indifferent, hiding behind the differences of rank in the military, and how family ties could not cloud ones mind in battle…
After the Golden War, Rajvean was beginning to gain some infamy amongst his kin’s men. Now more of a men then a child, he started indulging himself in the typical pleasures, discovering that outside of combat there were feasts, wine, and of course women…and some of the more beautiful men. Still, he had never neglected his training. He was becoming more and more aware of his own strengths and weakness, and how to work in improving himself. He had also taken up some of studies which could help him achieve even more power, mainly the art of magical augmenting, but also some more unusual things like animal wildlife, or what the Black elves knew about the anatomy of other races. It all had a purpose though, as he learned during the golden war simply smacking others around with his fists and legs won’t always work. He had learned f the strong and weak spots of the body, and observed the wildlife of the dark forest, trying to dissect jus what in their build and movements made them the perfect predators they were. By the end of the Second age, he had become renowned as one of the most dangerous, if not unusual warriors of the Mornaquent. Not only was he stronger and faster then most men, he had enough skill within his hands and legs to quickly dispose of any opponent, not only be curling his hand in a fist, but using his elbows, knees, twisting their bodies in way’s it shouldn’t… deep within the Black Forrest, the fist stopped being a weapon of a rowdy drunkard, and became a new form a combat… and in the minds of some, a brutal art. While his fame grew over his kinsmen slowly but steadily, most forgetting the uncommon situation of his birth (or him beating anyone who dared mention it), his father still keep distant to him, reasoning that he was old enough to look after himself… so he kept to himself, trying to find satisfaction in the typical joy’s of life…and still, the weird emptiness would not stop bothering him.
And thus he was met with the Dark Age… a time most see as the darkest, worst part of their worlds history… for him, it was the greatest time in his life. His forces squared of against their new cousins, the Sacrifi… a for stronger, faster then any other he met before… he was looking forward to the war. Ina addition, it would be a test of how worthy of leader he could be, as he mange to gain a rank of lieutenant in this conflict, based on his quite pleasing performance in the golden war, the improvements he made in his style, and of course the fact he was a red eyed son of one of the generals. He had proven capable enough, managing to lead his troops into combat causing much damage to the Sacrifi troops, while managing to keep casualties to minimum. And besides, he finally had the chance to be close to his father over a prolonged time. While he still tried to sustain an air of indifference, Locien could not help to bond more and more with his child, as they were tied by battle by day, and the cramped camp space by night. Seeing how rowdy Rajvean could be, someone had to try and stop him from wracking too much havoc…and his father was pretty much the only one he didn’t want to smash on sight. They spent some time talking, Rajvean sharing his thoughts of combat and asking of things from his father’s youth, especially of his mother…while still hurting, the joy of truly getting to know his son was slowly soothing it away.
And likewise, Rajvean also seemed to be soothed, to be finding some peace…and then it happened. During one night, as they stood up alters consumed by their talks, they saw a single aslant advancing towards the camp: A Sacrifi assassin. As foolhardy as ever, Rajvean told his father to warn the others, while he charged his distance cousin. The battle which ensued was as vicious as one could imagine. While most likely not the strongest of his kind, Rajvean had a lot of trouble with this opponent: their were almost equally strong, and besides that, the Sacrifi had a huge advantage in speed. But to his aid Rajvean had his unorthodox style. Completely focused on his foe, he didn’t even notice the scrams coming from the camp as more of the scouts came out attacking his brethren. He focused on his opponent, battering him, breaking one bone in his body after another…it even seemed he was wining for a short time…but in his foolish charge, he ran right into a slash of the Sacrifis weapon, looking somewhat like a oversized butcher clever, which hit him right across his stomach, ripping it practically open…just before he would be finished, he saw another of his kin jump on the wounded Sacrifi from behind… unfortunately, it was strong enough to shove his savior of, an swing his weapon at him… but that in turn gave Rajvean a moment to jump on his back, and using all the strength in his arms, he wrapped them round its neck, managing to snap it with a sickening sound. As he stood over the corpse of his opponent, he wobbled towards the other Black elf, grinning wide at his achievement…the grin turned into a very grim expression as he saw that the one who saved him was his father…with his head almost cut of from his neck…after that he feinted of his wounds, only mentally letting out a scream of anguish…
He had awaken a few weeks later in the healing ward, with his largest scar to boot on his stomach…and with the news of the truce which was formed… This news did not sit well with him, as he raged upon the healing house, and out into the city… he managed to wrack a few places, and ended up beating up a few of his own kind in perspective… many of the Mornaquenta tried to stop him, but none could really stop the raging warrior… only as king Rydal came by, assuming the rather unruly Mornaquenta would react like this to the news, and saw his state, he promptly calmed him by smacking him across the face, with Rajvean ending up crushing into the wall… and he sat there, tears streaming down his eyes… the void which seemed to be filing itself was own once again torn open… and for once, he could care less what other would think of him.
After calming down, Rajvean found himself in quite a dilemma what to do. He wasn’t worried for his well being, being a lieutenant of the military himself, and the son of a respected general, he had a rather high status amongst the people… and even if someone minded, he could just smack theme around. For the most part of the Sacrifi age, he pretty much did what he sued to do before: feast, drink, bed with as many women (or the occasional men) as he could, and tired to improve his fighting style. He became a bit even more unstable, usually throwing out quite a fit of rage whoever it was, and sending off solider after solider to the healing ward after they trained with him… However, king Rydal had attempted to try and sooth the raging Black Elf. While rather detested, Rajvean did respect the ancient power of the men, and was rather taken aback by the calmness of his leader…lacking any sort of family now, he kind of subconsciously started threatening him as a sort of father figure… after 300 years, he calmed down significantly, though he still was the usual, childish, self-indulgent, quite psychotic Mornaquenta. While still practicing his fighting and trying to improve his strength and speed, he also started to work on some more peaceful aspects of warfare. Buying the aid of some of the master smiths and augment specialist, he began to study, and at the same time, started to craft his own special set of armor…it took a half of age, but by that time, he managed to acquire quite a big mastery over the matter, and crafted the basis of his armor, which he would improve till today’s times.
And so had passed away the time under their bigger cousins rule, and it was pretty much uneventful for the Black Elf. On some years he would use his riches and social status to feed his rather carnal desires, on other years he would hide himself away from the world, perfecting his fighting techniques and getting back into shape after the years of previous festivities. Thought the years, he also had a rather unruly relationship with the Sacrifi, openly flaunting the fact he was able to single handedly kill one of their so called batter cousins (another story no one has the possibility, and also guts to question), often ending up in some conflicts with those of the Sacrifi which where present in the city. And years went on, everything took a turn again. He was one of the first to see the change in their de-facto rulers… and one of the first to raise his arms (literary) at their now perverted from. While still formidable, these Ogre’s as they would be called were no match for him at this point… still, it was satisfying to get rid of the stinking pricks. And after a few days, he would let out a roar of victory as he held up the head of the last Ogre, ne he ripped of with his bare hands… and the other Mornaquenta would follow, finally free of their occupation.
Sadly, the coming centuries were not that eventful. While all the other races needed to rebuild themselves, the Mornaquenta were pretty much unscathed from the whole ordeal… he felt now would be a good time to strike out t the other races, expand their territory…and to get some more heads on his tally. While he was widely regarded as a fearsome fighter and capable commander, the only thing stopping him from attaining the rank of General was the mark of a 1000 victims…still needed a hundred or so more. Sadly, king Tyr did not feel the need for conquest, and after a good smacking, Rajvean was humbled again. So he feel into the same routine as usual, switching from enjoying his hedonistic lifestyle, to training his body to be stronger and stronger, as well as still crafting round with his amour. At times, the memory of his family, or rather the lack of it, and the thought of a wasted childhood, maybe even life came to mind…but he quickly silenced it in one way or another.
Fortunately for him, the chance to prove himself came with the 5th age, and the war of with the De’Mira. Rajvean was as giddy as a child which received a new toy. As usual, as soon as the war was announced, he was the first to rush into combat, this time along with a greater group of underlings… seemed the other generals wanted to ask just how capable he would be. And the results proved quite satisfying, as he managed to lead his troops with great efficiency and low losses, while at the same time indulging in his frenzy of violence…though he had a tendency to lose control after getting to much into the thick of a battle, but by then he didn’t need to give much orders around. Close by the end of the first year of the fight, ha managed to mark his 1000 victim, and thus had gained his promotion to the rank of general
While some were weary of placing such an unstable individual in such a high rank, his experience, physical conditions, and also a sense of respect he gained from his race didn’t leave much room for protest. And through out the De’Mira war it proved a good choice. While he did lack a more insightful, tactical approach to battle, he knew the basics of combat on a bigger scale, and while straight forward in his approach, he’s leadership had proven to be effective. And the troops liked him as well. Not many generals would stride into battle ahead of their men, and draw out so much attention from the opponent… as ferocious as the Mornaquenta can be, the ones of Yellow and Orange eyes were a bit calmer, and tended to value their life over the joy’s of combat…Rajvean had no such problems.
After this conflict, things came back to his usual post war activates. Now as a general, he had to attend to also take part in the more sophisticated social life… not a good match for him as one could imagine, but a least he could spend some more time with their king, who he grew to respect even more through the years. In a nutshell, he was enjoying the pleasures of life, working on making his body even stronger…and waiting for a good occasion to use this strength.
Apparel
Name: Black Silk half Toga
Discription: A pieace of cloth going down to the end of his legs calf’s, covering his lower body. As the material suggests, it is pitch black, decorated with red tribal like markings.
Pictures:Toga:
History: Custom made by a tailor of his race, which he visits quite commonly in case his cloths get destroyed in the heat of battle
In addition, he has a wide collection of jewelry, usually changing it from one occasion to another.
Weapons/ Battle Apparel
In Rajveans case, his armor is mostly for the most part the only weapon he uses. Through years of crafting and magical augmentation (at first with outside assistance, then on his own) he had managed to create a set of armor with quite unusual qualities.
Name: Berserker Armor
Description: At first glance, it may seem as a form of light armor, consisting of a breastplate (also covering his back), a pair of shoulder and arm guards, as well as clawed gauntlets, as well as a pair of leg guards and armored boots. Each part is pitching black, made out of the finest Baryl, making it extremely durable. In addition, the armor pulses once every few seconds, showing of a set of red, tribal marks placed on each part, indicating the magical augmentations made on each part of the armor.
In addition, there are a total of six crystals imbued into the armor: two at the forearm and shin parts of his gloves and leg guards respectfully, one in the middle of his chest piece, and the last part in the part of armor covering his thigh. There is an additional gem placed on his back, but it different from the six ones mentioned earlier.
Image: General Armor:
Gloves:
Weapon capabilities: At the most basic level, his armor does just what it’s supposed to do, offer protection. The material it was made of can defend Rajveans body from most but the strongest of blows, be it of magical or physical nature. This is also due to the magical augmentations placed on the armor: each time an attack strikes against the armor, half of the energy behind the attack (by it someone magicka, or the pure kinetic power behind a physical attack), and focuses it around the crystals which are placed on his armor. The amount o attack needed to charge one crystal varies, but basically the stronger the hit, the faster it can fill the crystal. Once filled with energy, Rajvean gains access to a number of special abilities, gaining more with the more the crystals he has filled with energy. Each usage of the skills has its cost, as the backlash from the energy use may cause pain to Rajvena himself, greater with the increasing amount of crystals to use. Also, once used, the crystals need to cool down before they can be charged again (two post time)
1 crystal: With one charge at his disposal, Rajvean may use it to enhance on of his punches or kicks with the imbued power, rising his already monstrous strength to level that punching through lesser a plate armor of lesser material proves to be easy.
2 crystals: With two at his disposal, he may channel the energy to his feet, causing him to gain an exceptional amount of speed for a minimal amount of time, allowing him to perform a flash like maneuver, moving so fast that an untrained eye could confuse it as a form of teleportation.
3 crystals: Rajvean can use the energy in a more concentrated manner, focusing it around his arm, and thrusting them forward, creating a powerful shockwave. While not extremely damaging, tit has enough energy to propel anything on its way far back, be it an object or opponent, or to simply stop an incoming attack by clashing with it.
4 crystals: Rajveans gains the possibility to use a projectile like attack, focusing the energies around his leg or arm, and swinging it in at the enemy’s direction. The product of this move is a crescent like attack, with immense cutting power, easily capable to cut through thick, solid boulder.
5 crystals: Similar effect to the 3 crystal attack, only his time, and the projectile is much more unstable, causing an immense explosion upon impact with a target (range 20 feet).
6 crystals: The final, most destructive ability. Once the 6 charges are gather, Rajvean may start to focus the energies around his armor, which takes a set amount of time, increasing if he does so during movement (2 posts while immobile, 5 if moving), during which the augment marks of his armor start flashing more and more with a crimson red glow. After the needed time expires, all of the energy is released in an explosion greater then the one of the previous ability (35 feet range), evaporating nearly anything within the blasts range, unless it has sufficient durable armor. On the flip side, being in the epicenter of such an explosion takes a great toll on Rajvean himself, usually leaving him in a state barely capable of fighting, if not flat out unconscious
Weapon: Meat Hook
More of a utility item for Rajvean, it is something he adopted to use on more cowardly opponents. Basically it is a giant hook which could be easily seen in a butcher’s workshop, dead meat hanging of it. It is bound with augment magic to the gem on the back of his armor. It works as a magical chain for the weapon, which extends up to 15 feet. The usual tactic Rajvean employs with this weapon is to throw it at an opponent, and hook him by his body to drag him back for more fighting.
Abilities
Ability Name: Martial Artisit
Ability Effect: Rajvean managed to attain a mastery of with using his limbs as weapons greater then any other being known to the citizens of Terreastar. It was not only Centuries of combat experience, training physically to the verge of death, but also experience of the fighting styles of other beings, and also watching the natural behavior of the many predator animals living in the black forest, and analyzing the way the human body works. Thus he became a true master of hand to hand combat, his style a true form of art to behold. The combined grace of his moves and the sheer power behind them make it a sight that not many can tell the world about.
Ability Name: Grappling
Ability Effect: A sort of extension on his mastery of Hand to hand combat. He know not only how to strike, but also how to grab a hold of the enemy in ways to restrict his movements, and at the same time prepare him for even more devastating attacks from him.
Ability Name: Never give in
Ability Effect: Surrender is not a word Rajvean uses in his vocabulary. He will fight to the bitter end, no matter how bad the fight is going, unless someone drags him away from it by force.
Ability Name: Tank
Ability Effect: Those with this attribute will be ultra strong and ultra durable. Able to take hits better than anyone and makes their own strikes quite formidable themselves.
Ability Name: Crimson Rage
Ability Effect: Named so due too the color of his eyes. While always enjoying combat, Rajvean sometimes allows himself to be completely consumed by the heat of battle, usually when facing a formidable opponent or army. Once in this state, with each second he is in battle, his blood boils for more. He locks himself in a semi-meditative stance, focusing only on combat, increasing in strength and speed with each passing second. Any wound he sustains means nothing to him, what matters is the fight, and the death of his opponent. This may of course lead to him overstraining himself, but he won’t worry about such trivial things in the middle of a fight.
Ability Name: Inspiring figure
Ability Effect: Rajvean affects the battlefield by his presence alone. Those of his own race feel more confident and during with him, his prowess and the fact he will focus most of the attention on himself boosting their moral. Those fighting against him might feel uneasy, or even frightened by his actions on the field.
Magika
Magika Name: Imbue
Discription: Used by only the most gifted wizards and sorcerers in the land. It is the art of enchanting items with the effects of the spells one knows. It can range from making a chest shoot fireballs at whoever opens it to making a doorway that opens to different locations depending on circumstances. The possibilities are endless.
Level of Mastery: Rajvean had managed to excel in the defining art of magika available for his race, the ability to imbue weapons with all sorts of augmentations. Given enough time, he can create a weapon or armor, and to a lesser extent also other things such as chests or daily appliances, having any sort of effect. Though, he focuses mostly on weaponry, seeing augmenting other things as unworthy of his skill.