Hrukka
Committed
Roleplay posts: 79
Age: 34 years
Appearance: Large, burly and green. Nearly 7 feet tall. Wears ragged underclothes and large plate armor painted yellow. His inner self is only 7 inches tall.
Equipment: Heavy plated armor. Small bag of "snacks". Battle axe and near claymore-length sword he wields one-handed. Pocket knife (or rather, a dagger by a human's point of view) he uses for carving wood. Small wooden charm on a necklace his "Mudda" gave him.
Skills and Abilities: Skilled woodcarver and carpenter. Extremely strong for his size, as well as a high pain tolerance. (After all, his main body is fungi, with limited pain receptors.) The ability to regrow limbs of his large body after eating some of his "snacks".
Biography: A fairly simple git,(His words, not mine) Hrukka spent most of his life in his village in the outskirts of the town of..... "Grrharglakka". At the age of 21, he set out to seek his fortune, working as a combat engineer of a local warlord. He went home years later to see his ailing mother, only to find his village burned down by the very warlord he was working with. After he "krumped" the warlord, he built a rough ship, and sailed off to find his future.
Registered: Apr 8, 2021 12:29:02 GMT -5
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Post by Hrukka on May 26, 2021 13:24:03 GMT -5
"It... is hard to explain... let's just say they are both me, and me inner-self is required for me outer-self to work outside of ye basic critter functions. Eating, sleeping and the like. Not very bright it is."
"How intriguing!" Azaran says to the large man. "Quite the duality you have in your person, I must say." Azaran scrunches his face slightly, as if remembering something he had forgotten before. "Oh, if you wish to keep talking then come with me, but I must find where I dropped my helmet. I was helping one of the locals catch fish and I dropped it when I ran up to help in that predicament with the queen." He continues as he begins to look around the settlement for where he had dropped it. "Aye. I need to check the beaches for good lumber trees anyhow."
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Azaran the Wanderer
Dedicated
Roleplay posts: 100
Age: Early 30s
Appearance: (Drawing commissioned, done by Griffith)
Azaran is roughly 5'7", with a muscular, athletic build. He has black hair, cut short to his head, along with a pair of purple eyes. His hair is usually hidden by his armored helmet, however, one with a star-esque face opening and black markings along the top of the head. He wears a purple sleeved shirt underneath a steel cuirass, with pauldrons going out over the shoulders. He wears tanned pants, as well as a pair of armored greaves.
Equipment: As well as his armor, Azaran carries with him few supplies, mainly a waterskin and a small pouch for some food and general supplies as he travels. To protect himself, however, he carries a basic heater shield and what seems to be a hook made out of black metal, sharpened to a short blade at the far end with sharp points on both ends, and a rounded point design on the back. Although it seems unassuming, it can also materialize what seems to be a translucent purple rope-like structure wrapping around the uppermost part of the hook, and extending out any length up to 20ft or so, with a barbed hook at the end. The rope seems extremely hard to break, and the hook seems to be sharp as a blade.
Skills and Abilities: Despite his hesitance to use it, Azaran is very skilled at fighting, and due to the copious amount of time he spends out in the wilderness he is an excellent survivalist, knowing how to spend weeks at a time on his own on travels between civilizations.
Biography: Growing up, Azaran Ðyáhmo lived in the lap of luxury, sheltered from the harsh realities of the rest of his people in the archipelago. His parents, Duke and Duchess of the region, kept him away from seeing that. However, as time went on, his curiosity got the better of him. One night, while his family was sleeping, he snuck out of the palace, to see the world outside. To his dismay, the people were struggling. His parents focused more on their party lives that the lives of the people they were supposed to serve. Disease ran rampant, people were starving in the streets, and bandits robbed in broad daylight. When he returned to his home in the early hours in the morning, he vowed to make his world a better place, one person at a time. He forsook his parents' name, and stole their most precious heirloom, the God Hook Déshimoh, whisking it away in the dead of night to wander the countryside, never staying in one place long, passing along the good fortunes of comradery to his people. Even after the flood destroyed everything, though, he didn't give up, and he plans to spread the same word around this world as well.
Registered: Apr 13, 2021 17:52:55 GMT -5
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Post by Azaran the Wanderer on May 26, 2021 13:35:59 GMT -5
"How intriguing!" Azaran says to the large man. "Quite the duality you have in your person, I must say." Azaran scrunches his face slightly, as if remembering something he had forgotten before. "Oh, if you wish to keep talking then come with me, but I must find where I dropped my helmet. I was helping one of the locals catch fish and I dropped it when I ran up to help in that predicament with the queen." He continues as he begins to look around the settlement for where he had dropped it. "Aye. I need to check the beaches for good lumber trees anyhow." "Alright, I can help with that as well after I drop off the fish with Uma." Azaran says as he spots his helmet just over near the edge of what could be considered the settlement. "Ah, there it is." He says, going to pick up the uniquely designed helmet, black markings matching with those on the rest of his armor and his shield. Holding the helmet under his arm, he begins to look around for Uma, so as to give her the fish that he still had.
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Uma
Committed
Roleplay posts: 61
Age: 21
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Appearance: Eyes: Violet
Hair: Black
Height: Average (About 5'4")
Build: Athletic
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Equipment: Leather armor
Circlet
Spear
Rucksack filled with whatever she could carry during the flood, rope, cookware, pick axe
The clothing on her back
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Skills and Abilities: Fishing
Hunting
Trapping
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Biography: Uma is one of two fishers left of the Usqueans. She was going to be trained as one of the guardians but the flood happened. She is a quiet girl for the most part, but seems to be the one people run into.
She has been known to frequent the seaside as of late, using her skills to help feed the village that was growing quietly throughout time.
Allegiances: Tana the Tongue Tied
Place of Residence: Trinity Island
Registered: Apr 22, 2021 10:55:05 GMT -5
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Post by Uma on Jun 1, 2021 8:22:46 GMT -5
She took the fish with a soft nod and a thanks.
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Whiskers
Established
Roleplay posts: 28
Appearance: A grey and white cat with piercing blue eyes. He sports a pirate outfit fit for the finest of crews. A large black captain's hat with crossbones, a caution to others. Is he a captain? No one really knows. Whiskers wears a black shirt as soft as cotton. The black sleeves embroidered with gold accents give way to white ruffled sleeve ends. The shirt has a cute white collar that Whiskers prefers to wear up. Did Whiskers dress himself, or has someone put him in it? No one truly knows.
Equipment: Whiskers takes with him a small pouch used to carry fish, papers, and other oddities.
Skills and Abilities: He does cat things since he is indeed a cat. In addition, he does occasionally deliver letters, but he himself is a true and through pirate.
Biography: meow meow meow meow meow. Meow meow! meow? MEOW!? Meow meow mrrrrr Meow.
Allegiances: anyone with a can of tuna
Registered: Mar 21, 2021 17:01:56 GMT -5
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Post by Whiskers on Jun 7, 2021 13:49:56 GMT -5
Whiskers patrolled the camp. The pities of being a cat. He could only do so much. He found a comfy spot to lay down and began playing with a small rock, his meows carried throughout the camp.
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Azaran the Wanderer
Dedicated
Roleplay posts: 100
Age: Early 30s
Appearance: (Drawing commissioned, done by Griffith)
Azaran is roughly 5'7", with a muscular, athletic build. He has black hair, cut short to his head, along with a pair of purple eyes. His hair is usually hidden by his armored helmet, however, one with a star-esque face opening and black markings along the top of the head. He wears a purple sleeved shirt underneath a steel cuirass, with pauldrons going out over the shoulders. He wears tanned pants, as well as a pair of armored greaves.
Equipment: As well as his armor, Azaran carries with him few supplies, mainly a waterskin and a small pouch for some food and general supplies as he travels. To protect himself, however, he carries a basic heater shield and what seems to be a hook made out of black metal, sharpened to a short blade at the far end with sharp points on both ends, and a rounded point design on the back. Although it seems unassuming, it can also materialize what seems to be a translucent purple rope-like structure wrapping around the uppermost part of the hook, and extending out any length up to 20ft or so, with a barbed hook at the end. The rope seems extremely hard to break, and the hook seems to be sharp as a blade.
Skills and Abilities: Despite his hesitance to use it, Azaran is very skilled at fighting, and due to the copious amount of time he spends out in the wilderness he is an excellent survivalist, knowing how to spend weeks at a time on his own on travels between civilizations.
Biography: Growing up, Azaran Ðyáhmo lived in the lap of luxury, sheltered from the harsh realities of the rest of his people in the archipelago. His parents, Duke and Duchess of the region, kept him away from seeing that. However, as time went on, his curiosity got the better of him. One night, while his family was sleeping, he snuck out of the palace, to see the world outside. To his dismay, the people were struggling. His parents focused more on their party lives that the lives of the people they were supposed to serve. Disease ran rampant, people were starving in the streets, and bandits robbed in broad daylight. When he returned to his home in the early hours in the morning, he vowed to make his world a better place, one person at a time. He forsook his parents' name, and stole their most precious heirloom, the God Hook Déshimoh, whisking it away in the dead of night to wander the countryside, never staying in one place long, passing along the good fortunes of comradery to his people. Even after the flood destroyed everything, though, he didn't give up, and he plans to spread the same word around this world as well.
Registered: Apr 13, 2021 17:52:55 GMT -5
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Post by Azaran the Wanderer on Jun 7, 2021 15:53:34 GMT -5
After giving the fish to Uma, Azaran turns back to Hrukka. "Alright, are you ready to go get that wood, then?" He asks, drying out his helmet with a small cloth and putting it back on his head.
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Hrukka
Committed
Roleplay posts: 79
Age: 34 years
Appearance: Large, burly and green. Nearly 7 feet tall. Wears ragged underclothes and large plate armor painted yellow. His inner self is only 7 inches tall.
Equipment: Heavy plated armor. Small bag of "snacks". Battle axe and near claymore-length sword he wields one-handed. Pocket knife (or rather, a dagger by a human's point of view) he uses for carving wood. Small wooden charm on a necklace his "Mudda" gave him.
Skills and Abilities: Skilled woodcarver and carpenter. Extremely strong for his size, as well as a high pain tolerance. (After all, his main body is fungi, with limited pain receptors.) The ability to regrow limbs of his large body after eating some of his "snacks".
Biography: A fairly simple git,(His words, not mine) Hrukka spent most of his life in his village in the outskirts of the town of..... "Grrharglakka". At the age of 21, he set out to seek his fortune, working as a combat engineer of a local warlord. He went home years later to see his ailing mother, only to find his village burned down by the very warlord he was working with. After he "krumped" the warlord, he built a rough ship, and sailed off to find his future.
Registered: Apr 8, 2021 12:29:02 GMT -5
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Post by Hrukka on Jun 7, 2021 16:33:19 GMT -5
After giving the fish to Uma, Azaran turns back to Hrukka. "Alright, are you ready to go get that wood, then?" He asks, drying out his helmet with a small cloth and putting it back on his head. "Aye, we can do that." He stated.
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Azaran the Wanderer
Dedicated
Roleplay posts: 100
Age: Early 30s
Appearance: (Drawing commissioned, done by Griffith)
Azaran is roughly 5'7", with a muscular, athletic build. He has black hair, cut short to his head, along with a pair of purple eyes. His hair is usually hidden by his armored helmet, however, one with a star-esque face opening and black markings along the top of the head. He wears a purple sleeved shirt underneath a steel cuirass, with pauldrons going out over the shoulders. He wears tanned pants, as well as a pair of armored greaves.
Equipment: As well as his armor, Azaran carries with him few supplies, mainly a waterskin and a small pouch for some food and general supplies as he travels. To protect himself, however, he carries a basic heater shield and what seems to be a hook made out of black metal, sharpened to a short blade at the far end with sharp points on both ends, and a rounded point design on the back. Although it seems unassuming, it can also materialize what seems to be a translucent purple rope-like structure wrapping around the uppermost part of the hook, and extending out any length up to 20ft or so, with a barbed hook at the end. The rope seems extremely hard to break, and the hook seems to be sharp as a blade.
Skills and Abilities: Despite his hesitance to use it, Azaran is very skilled at fighting, and due to the copious amount of time he spends out in the wilderness he is an excellent survivalist, knowing how to spend weeks at a time on his own on travels between civilizations.
Biography: Growing up, Azaran Ðyáhmo lived in the lap of luxury, sheltered from the harsh realities of the rest of his people in the archipelago. His parents, Duke and Duchess of the region, kept him away from seeing that. However, as time went on, his curiosity got the better of him. One night, while his family was sleeping, he snuck out of the palace, to see the world outside. To his dismay, the people were struggling. His parents focused more on their party lives that the lives of the people they were supposed to serve. Disease ran rampant, people were starving in the streets, and bandits robbed in broad daylight. When he returned to his home in the early hours in the morning, he vowed to make his world a better place, one person at a time. He forsook his parents' name, and stole their most precious heirloom, the God Hook Déshimoh, whisking it away in the dead of night to wander the countryside, never staying in one place long, passing along the good fortunes of comradery to his people. Even after the flood destroyed everything, though, he didn't give up, and he plans to spread the same word around this world as well.
Registered: Apr 13, 2021 17:52:55 GMT -5
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Post by Azaran the Wanderer on Jun 13, 2021 23:20:31 GMT -5
After giving the fish to Uma, Azaran turns back to Hrukka. "Alright, are you ready to go get that wood, then?" He asks, drying out his helmet with a small cloth and putting it back on his head. "Aye, we can do that." He stated. "Sounds like a solid plan." Azaran says, gesturing for Hrukka to go ahead. "You seem to know exactly what we are after then. Lead the way." He adjusts the equipment on his back, readying for the walk.
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