# Scars of Khan- Unbroken



## Euphrati (May 24, 2009)

In the vast reaches of the Segmentum Pacificus spins a world wreathed in the fertile greens and sapphire blues reminiscent of words penned by ancient Terran poets in their descriptions of mankind's own birthworld. Imperial records chronicle this world of rugged mountains and rolling grasslands under the name of Mundus Planus, but to the people that call its savage, untamed beauty home it is known by another name: *Chogoris*, homeworld to the fifth of the Emperor's gene-forged Sons the great Jaghatai Khan and his legacy- the warrior brotherhood of the White Scars.

Once every decade the Chapter's Librarians, known as Stormseers in connection to their shamanic tribal heritage, descend from their great fortress of Quan Zhou atop the highest peak in the Khum Karta mountains to choose the bravest and fiercest of the young warriors from the tribes of nomadic horsemen that roam the Empty Quarter- a vast grassland steppe where the wind is bound only by the horizon's edge.

Nine summers have come and passed since the last trials of choosing and, as the tribesmen ride in the company of their herds on the annual migration to summer grazing lands, so too do the Seers of the Great Khan walk amongst their people once again- dark eyes in search of those few young warriors worthy of the chance to step beyond the warring clans and the soil of their homeworld into a Brotherhood that rides amongst the stars themselves.

This roleplay will be the first chapter in a series to follow the intertwining paths of those brave young men chosen by the Stormseers and their ascent into the warrior-brotherhood of the White Scars and perhaps, by their blood and deeds, into the legends of the greatest heroes humanity has ever known.

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Story- The storyline will begin at the final trail of the young warriors chosen under the eyes of the Stormseers, following into their initiation from aspirants into neophytes of the Chapter and their first steps as Scouts led by a veteran brother-trailmaster. However, there is a hidden evil lurking in the darkness that has other plans for the lives of these young warriors as a routine training mission becomes a test of not only their newly forged skills, but a fight for survival in which the outcome could see the Chapter's very future at risk.

Location(s)- White Scar's homeworld of Chogoris, Chapter ship- Stormemare, Govian system-Segmentum Pacificus, a planetary system under the protection of the White Scars Chapter watch station Ni'Shant and training grounds on the third moon of Govian IV, other locations to be disclosed at later dates.

Squad size- Five players minimum with a soft-cap of 10 to start.

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You will notice some slight differences in the details of what I require for a character sheet, feel free to pm me with any questions. For referance- I will be pulling from a number of cultures in my building of the customs and rituals of the White Scars as a warrior-brotherhood, the foremost of which is the Mongol Empire, but there will be hints of other shamanic cultures such as those of the Native American tribes of the great plains and the ancient cultures of India and China.

**There are no 'Reserves' for spaces in this roleplay and just posting a character does not mean you are automatically accepted. I retain the right as gm to refuse any character that does not meet requirements given.**

Please use the following character sheet to create and post applications of your characters. 



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Character Name:  First name will be sufficient for this, a clan-name is not required. **You are a young warrior of the Steppes, having yet to attain much in the way of honour or rank: No Titles or Nicknames- those are earned/bestowed upon you by others. You do not get to pick them yourself.**

Age: Your character should be between 13-16 summers in age.

Appearance: Remember, your character is still a rather young Human warrior and has not finished growing yet or received any of the implants that will turn him into an astartes. Tribal tattoos and piercings are acceptable within limits (2 piercings of lip/nose/ear/eyebrow and 2 tattoos on the chest/arm/back/leg are the maximum). Facial hair for the characters will only be pre-pubescent dustings at best- no Fu Manchu's. No missing eyes/limbs either- those, like titles, will have the chance to be 'earned' through the rp! **Only a few in the group will start out with a facial honour scar- I will choose who those characters are before the start of the action thread based on character backgrounds.**

Personality: This should be pretty self explanatory, how does your character behave/act? **I will deny 'epic' warrior personalities - the 'Can do/good at everything' types and also the 'does not speak/speaks little/only when spoken to' types.**

There are a few slight differences here that I require beyond the 'base' personality description that you should include:

Character's Nature- This is the character's true 'inner self' so to say, his morals and personal tenets that anchor his actions. The core of his beliefs and dreams. Is he secretly protective of his brothers? Harboring a hidden hungry for personal glory or revenge of some old enemy? Naive to the world beyond his grasp or cynical at the core? What is he willing to sacrifice for his beliefs/brothers?

Character's Demeanor- This is the persona that the character tries to show most often to the world or 'wants' to be seen as having the traits of. Does he attempt to display an Alpha persona, quick to take charge and direct others even when he knows there might be someone who knows more but he fears to look weak? A showoff or daredevil that laughs in the face of danger despite knowing the odds and fighting the knot of fear in his gut?

Personal Quirk (optional but suggested) - A personal quirk can help to give more depth and a uniqueness without being something glaringly obvious in the overall character's identity. Does he feel agitated when confined in closed spaces? Is he hyper-sensitive to a certain sense such as hearing/smell/taste/vision and on account tends to favour that sense over the others and/or react more dramatically to something that effects that sense (overly-bright light/horrid stench/high-pitched scream)? Does he tend to pace when trying to sort out a thought or frustrated? Does he become restless if not focused upon an immediate task? If he makes an oath does he see it out despite the personal cost?

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There is a local saying on Chogoris that the people of the Steppes do everything from the saddle- from eating and sleeping to even giving birth on the backs of their sly and nimble horses. Having been in the saddle before you even learned to walk on your own feet; your character's world revolved around the nomadic lifestyle of your peoples' heritage. The changing of the seasons and the annual migration paths of your clan's herds are as well known to you as the beating of your own heart. 

Character Background: This should be a fairly brief recount of the character's life- what hardships or successes has he faced and what led to the character being chosen by the Stormseers for the trials. Is there something in the character's past that haunts him still or weights upon his mind when he faces a difficult choice? Perhaps one of the other characters is a warrior from a rival clan and it is harder said than done to put aside the bitterness of old hate? (Permission must be given by the other character's player first before you should include their character in such a rivalry) **Your character is young so I don't want any books here, also no absurd super-hero stunts (slaying an entire pride of grass-cats solo with only the tip of a broken arrow to save your father's hunting party from an ambush... etc)**

Weapons: ALL characters will start out with weapons given to you for the purpose of the trials- a short hunting spear (1.5 meters in length, hardened wood shaft with a napped flint or iron tip), a dagger (horn or wood hilt with napped flint or simple iron blade), a Mongolian style horse-bow and quiver of 6 arrows (short and heavily re-curved bow designed to be fired from horseback or in close-quarters ambush settings. The arrows are bone or iron tipped and barbed to stick in their target's flesh). **Other weapons will be introduced later into the rp once the characters have achieved the rank of Scouts and have shown their personalities.**

Other: ALL characters will have a young stallion that they have personally tamed to ride at the start of the rp. You can name him and describe him but Do not become overly attached to your living mount- you may take that statement as you will.


*Note on psy- I will be allowing a _single _player in the squad to be marked for the path of Stormseer and manifest psy-potential throughout the rp. However (and this is a big however...), the powers gained will not be chosen by the player and will not be present from the start of the rp- the abilities will be revealed through updates as the character grows and progresses. If you are interested in your character being considered for this- pm me your character first. Any character sheet posted with psy-potential without the go-ahead from me will be rejected outright. Period.

Other possible paths (apothecary, techmarine, etc) will be subject to the interaction and deeds of the character and thus 'earned' in the same sense that titles are earned.

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Now, on to the fun part: What I Expect As GM (aka- the rules to play in my sandbox)

*I require at least one (1) post per player, per update. There is no limit beyond that as long as the posts do not exceed the update in timeline or content. Do not create random npc's or events out of thin air- if you have inquiries about details not offered in an update I will be happy to answer them via pm or on instant messenger.

*Posts should be a minimum of ten (10) decent sentences in length. Any text copied from a update or from the post of another player does Not count towards the minimum (the one exception to this is a combined post done between players outside of the forums, something that I am fond of doing myself). That being said, I encourage players to post more than the minimum- taking time to consider the character's physical surroundings and inner thoughts/emotions.

*If you have questions regarding things in an update (or things an update might not cover specifically) feel free to pm me with them. I cannot promise that you will always get the answer you are looking for, but you might just gain insight into details that were purposefully held out of an update for that very reason. You never know what I might ok if you take the time to ask.

*God-moding. _A player controls their character and their character only unless stated otherwise directly in an update._ That goes for both other pc's as well as NPC's- you never know when the stuttering Chapter serf might play a key-role in a scene. *This is one of my biggest pet peeves so I would highly, highly, suggest not doing it.* The results will not be pleasant in the slightest.

*Character death is possible. Actions have consequences and your characters will still be quite mortal even with the legacy of Jaghatai Khan running through their veins. If a character dies in the course of the rp- it is possible that I might allow the player to re-join as a new character, however this will be handled on a case-by-case basis and it is not guaranteed.

*As GM, I can be swayed by a well worded argument at times, and I'm far from perfect, but in the end my word is final. Not much to say beyond that.

*I prefer and encourage 'interactive role-playing' vs 'cardboard-action heroes'. Your character's primary heart, the one that first beat within his chest before he ever took his first breath, is his human heart. He isn't going to be perfect and will make mistakes- that is part of role-playing. Sometimes it takes a mistake for a character to really shine later.

*Recruitment will remain open up until the storyline reaches the 60-70% complete mark. New players will be free to post characters until the maximum squad number is met and then recruitment will be put on hold barring character death/player drop-out.

*I have and will be putting a fair amount of time and effort into Gm'ing this rp. I also understand that life happens and there are times when Fate throws us a twist that requires time away from posting. All I ask is that you give me, and your fellow players, a heads up if such a situation arises out of respect to the time and effort that is going to be put into this. If you do so then I will do my best to work with you, but if you vanish without a word or trace then don't expect a warm welcome on return. Hell hath no fury... or so the saying goes. Test the validity of that statement at your own risk.

*Finally- this rp will follow a serious storyline: emphasizing character development and interaction but with no shortage of action waiting in the wings. Players will be treated as adults and I will not be pulling punches in my updates or descriptions. Updates will occur when all players have posted or when sufficient time has been allowed for those who have not done so.



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Let it begin.


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## Santaire (Feb 13, 2011)

Wow, will try to post a character by the end of the week.


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## Rems (Jun 20, 2011)

This looks fascinating and of a truly high calibre (a fabled Euphrati rp indeed). I've always had a liking for the White Scars and starting off pre implantation is intriguing. Consider me interested, i'll edit this with a character sheet later.

And here we are, please let me know if you would like anything changed. 

*Character Name*: Khasar

*Age*: 16

*Appearance*: By some quirk of genetics Khasar stands as a giant amongst his fellow youths at 6ft 5. Though he is tall he is still young and as such lean and gangly. Taller than most full grown men Khasar has been looked up to his whole life, a trait that has had interesting consequences. His head is shaven bald; as all warriors of the Namian tribe; only women wear hair on their heads. His skin tanned by the sun of Chogaris and plains living, storm grey eye’s stare out of his young face. Across his right bicep he bears a red stallion tattoo; a mark of being recognized as a man in his tribe; his height working for him. 

*Personality*: Khasar constantly feels the need to prove himself. Taller than any other boy his age or indeed older than himself he has been looked upon as destined to achieve greatness. The responsibility of this gnaws heavily at the boy’s heart for he does not believe himself to be capable of leading and lacks confidence. He has often been pressed into activities he feels unready for or ill-suited to. Inside his huge frame lies still a boy afterall. He prefers to follow rather than lead and feels uncomfortable when making decisions. To the world however his displays a confident, alpha demeanor, feeling it always expected of him. As such eh will bluster and act overly aggressive to try and hide his insecurities. A calm youth, in his own time Khasar enjoys spending time in solitude in the shaman’s tent, pouring over the sheepskin scrolls and slate glyphs. Those of his tribe who view him for greatness see this as evidence of his wisdom, in truth Khasar enjoys the solitude and calmness, it is a refuge. Inquisitive he has been halting taught to read by the tribe shaman. 

*Character Nature:* Khasar is a calm and collected youth, inquisitive to the world around him and always asking why? Much to the annoyance of his grandfather and the shaman who good naturedly try to answer his endless questions. He is prone to acts of bravado and recklessness as all young warriors. He is used to getting his way thanks to his size and intimidating others. Khasar feels a driving sense of duty and responsibility thrust upon him when he first began to grow. He is determined not to let others down and so strives to do his best in a role he has little desire for. What he wants to do and what he feels he should do is a constant source of conflict, he feels determined to vindicate his tribe’s pride in him leading him to take risks he perhaps should not. He is greatly protective of his twin sister, whom he shares a close bond with. Their father is dead from a herd raid by the Chogun Tribe and mother taken into another warrior’s yurt. Khasar rejected this man’s offer, choosing to live instead in his deceased father’s yurt with his grandfather, the older warrior attempting to teach Khasar the things his father would. Leaving his family to an uncertain fate weighs heavily on Khasar and his thoughts often return to them. 

*Character Demeanour:* Outwardly Khasar presents an aggressive, blustering front as this is what has been expected of him by his tribe and he is loathe to disappoint anyone. Quick to assume leadership he will angrily round on any who question him, attempting to provoke them and relying on his size to dissuade them. Secretly however he hopes to lose such confrontations and assume a lesser position. His sense of duty will not allow him to completely fade into the background however and as such he enjoys a supporting position. Determined once he sets his mind to a task he will not waver. He will often seek an alternate route or course of action, a byproduct of his innate curiosity. 

*Personal Quirk:* When angry Khasar will subconsciously clench and unclench his right hand, the speed at which he does so indicative of his level of anger. He dislikes loud noises and constant prattle. 

*Character Background:* Born a twin on the night of a howling thunderstorm his birth and subsequent rate of growth were seen as omens for his destiny. Khasar has always had to try and live up to these expectations. He learned the life of a Namian tribesman like any other boy, learning to ride, herd and hunt. He was taught the legends of the tribe and of the great sky warriors who would come and take the greatest youths to war across the night sea. Khasar’s imagination was captured by such stories and he spent many a night gazing up at the stars, imaging what could be up there. 

A few years ago his father was killed, defending against a Chogun herd raid. Driven off the Chogun’s quickly moved to far afield pastures. Khasar has since held a blood debt against their tribe and awaits for the chance to exact vengeance. Since that day Khasar had lived as his own man, in his father’s yurt guided by his grandfather. His twin sister Ashita, lived with him and he is fiercely protective of her. Overhearing some fellow youth’s plans for her was enough to provoke him into a rage and beat them savagely. His leaving of her for the sky warrior trials weighs heavily on his heart. He has come to think that though he can not be with her anymore he can at least do her, and their father’s memory proud. 

It was a year after his father’s death that Khasar went on his first true warrior’s raid. They captured two score grass-yak and took a dozen heads that day. Afterwards the youth was recognised as a man by the tribe and had his crimson stallion tattoo applied. More raids over the coming years followed and tribal skirmishes. He honed his skills with the bow, lance and sabre, taking many enemy heads. 

His choosing by the Stormseers of the White Scars came after one life changing skirmish. After long years the Chogun tribe’s migration path had once again crossed that of the Namian. Murakh resolved to find his vengeance as the tribe planned a great raid to repay the treacherous Chogun. In the dead of night the Namian warriors fell upon the camps and herds of the Chogun, spreading confusion and fear. Before the Chogun could muster an effective counter attack the Namian were ordered to withdraw with their prizes. Women, treasures and grow were stolen away but Khasar’s mind was only on blood. With a group of fellow youths used to following his example Khasar continued to ride through the Chogun camp, striking down all he came across. Soon the bloodlust cleared however and the young warrior realised his predicament. He and his band of boys beat a hasty retreat, leaving many of their number dead in the grass. Worse however in their flight one skittish horse kicked over a camp fire, scattering embers across the dry grass. A roaring plains-fire erupted, consuming much of the Chogun camp and reducing vast swathes of the plains to ash. Unable to reach their tribe Khasar ad his fellows rode for shelter from the firestorm, their horse bolting. 

Unable to directly return to their tribe the youths traced a circuitous route, to evade pursuit. As their horses began to drop from exhaustion, far from home they made the decision to rest within a craggy gully.Once they emerged having fed on fresh horsemeat and blood the found the plains as ash, with no indication as to where their tribe had gone. As youths they were not privy to the migration pattern of the tribe, a great secret to prevent ambushes of their enemies. All seemed lost until Khasar remembered from his readings with the Shaman that once over ten summers the Trials of the Star Warriors would be held. The group decided to make for them, it was not the life Khasar had first envisioned but it was the best he could now look to. With heavy heart he turned away from his tribe and sister and rode to pursue a different destiny. 

*Weapons*: Hunting spear tipped with flint, barbed, bone tipped arrows, recurved bow and bone handled daggar. 

*Other*: Stallion named Thunder on account of his dark colouring and temperament. 


-yes i know he's very tall, especially for his age but it can happen. My own brother for instance is 16 and 6 foot 5.


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## Midge913 (Oct 21, 2010)

hmmmm..... I am definitely intrigued. I will get a character up in the next day or so.


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## Amoeba Bait (May 31, 2010)

Sign me up! I've been looking for a good RP to get amongst. I'll have a character up by Saturday, if not earlier.


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## darkreever (Apr 3, 2008)

Name: Ganzorig

Age: 14

Appearance: Ganzorig stands scant lengths just above five heads tall, with a thin, wiry frame and olive coloured skin darkened from days in the hot sun of the plains. He has a shaved scalp with a single braid of brown hair extending to the base of his neck. A blunt, short nose and shallow cheekbones frame jade eyes set in Ganzorig’s face; while a single band of metal pierces through his lower lip. About his right hand Ganzorig has a thin strip of leather wrapped about, a single feline fang dangling from the end just below the meat of his palm.

Personality-
Nature: Deep down Ganzorig desires nothing more than to be better than any and all others. He seeks glory where-ever it may be found, and in some cases where many believe it cannot be. Ganzorig is willing to put himself in all forms of danger for a chance at glory, disliking the aid of others even if he knows it is needed most dearly. Worse yet, he does not forgive quickly from those he believes have stolen the glory he seeks, or might be trying to rob it from him at the final moment after he has done the work to earn it.
Demeanor: Ganzorig is, in his own way, a show-off without intention. The desire for glory at every turn has led him to being stubbornly impetus in the presence of others. From this Ganzorig is harsh in his words, whether meant that way or not.

Personal Quirk: Ganzorig is completely lost when in confined spaces, his sense of direction best under the open sky of the plains. When there is anything over his head, be it the stone of a cave or the hide of a tent, he is at a loss.

Background: Ganzorig has always been a son of the plains, born and raised in the saddle above all else. Within a scant handful of seasons, Ganzorig was a hunter on the plains, learning his trade from the father who sired him and the three brothers who came before. The clan he was born into was one who made prey of predators, hunting the large felines for their pelts and bones in order to trade for the likes of iron and other items of value. Over the course of the seasons, Ganzorig took part in raid after raid, watching his father and eldest brother defeat the deadliest of the beasts they had ever encountered. During the raids following those, Ganzorig was filled with the desire to match their feats of glory with one of his own, displaying recklessness at the worst of times.

During the height of his fourteenth summer, Ganzorig’s second brother was honoured with the right to lead a raid against the beasts of the plains, something for which he had desired for a long time. It was this desire, to show all that he was as good as his eldest brother or perhaps even better, that led him to go against the wishes of his second brother and attack the beasts before the rest of the riders were ready. His life would have been forfeit, had it not been for the intervention of his second brother, losing his life in Ganzorig’s place, and the young riders actions furthering that loss by taking his father and third brother before the last of the beasts, a single great feline, was driven off.

Of the raiders, barely a score were left of more than three. Rather than face what he had done, Ganzorig instead raced after the last feline, intent on at least taking its life and obtaining some measure of glory; killing the beast that had taken so much from his clan. In his wake, Ganzorig’s eldest brother followed him, to see him back to the clan and to aid in the avenging of the dead. The pair followed the beast for days, coming upon a cave where the creature had chosen to hide. Within the confines, Ganzorig quickly lost his way, so used to the openness of the plains with the sky above his head. The pair wound their way through the cave, searching for the feline for what felt like days to Ganzorig but may well have been hours.

The beast struck at them when they had all but given up on this, despite the protests of Ganzorig which allowed the feline to move in unheard. It struck for Ganzorig first, smashing him against the stone wall and snapping for his throat. Were it not for the spear of his brother, the feline would have ended him in that moment, but the weapon bit into the creatures side and forced its attention on more dangerous prey. The feline had dispatched a number of the raiders all its own, and so Ganzorig’s brother was little match for the thing. Once more did he lash out with his spear, catching it in the breast but catching on bone and causing no damage. It fell upon him, ending the life of another before leaping on Ganzorig to finish the job it had started.

In this, the feline made its final mistake; in its haste like Ganzorig before, it failed to realize the danger of its action. And so when the young rider made to hold the feline off, his hands found the haft of his brothers spear, the creatures weight pushing the iron tip further in and piercing the things dark heart. In its final moments of life, the feline pawed at his body, shredding his robes and cutting the skin beneath. By nightfall, Ganzorig emerged from the cave, blood smearing what remained of his robes; climbing upon his stallion, he made the journey back to his clan. Wounded and with little left in the way of food or drink, the hot sun would likely claim him in the end, until a figure stood in his path. At first Ganzorig had thought the figure an illusion, but as he approached it became clear that this was no illusion; but instead a legend made manifest. He had heard stories of The Riders, masters of the plains and lands beyond who had been known to take those worthy or showing of great promise. The brother of Ganzorig’s father’s father had been taken by such people, and now the last of his line would be tested by them to see what he had within.

Without so much as a word, the Rider pointed into the distance; far across the plains a range of mountains tore into the horizon. The message was clear enough for Ganzorig, he had been chosen by The Riders, given a chance at glory he could only ever have dreamed of. Whatever awaited him in life, it was towards those mountains; and that was all he needed to continue on. Kneading Yekebora in the flank, Ganzorig began forward with the Rider silently watching him. The barest hint of a clan marking showing from beneath the Riders own robes, the head of a feline like the one Ganzorig had killed not long ago, snarling in defiance with its body hidden from view.

Weapons: Short hunting spear of hardened wood with an iron tip, a dagger of rough iron, horse bow and quiver with six arrows with bone tips. 

Other: Yekebora, a dark gray stallion that has been the true soul of Ganzorig all his life.


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## Scathainn (Feb 21, 2010)

This looks fascinating! I am not sure my schedule will allow it but even if I do not make a character I will be following this!


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## Amoeba Bait (May 31, 2010)

Character Name: Daaruk

Age: 15

Appearance: Daaruk stands 6ft, wiry and nimble. Despite the intensity of the Chogoris sun, Daaruk’s skin remains fair, yet it is crossed with countless scars, scratches, bruises and cuts. He sports a grey ponytail, his hair dyed to imitate the colour of his mount, Kulor. A thin nose and green eyes sit in the middle of his gaunt and youthful face. Around his left arm, Daaruk has a deep blue zigzag pattern tattoo, symbolic of the winding river where he was born. 

Personality
Nature: Having had no siblings of his own, Daaruk is extremely protective of those younger than him, and those who rely upon others. He strives to bring security to his slowly dying tribe by any means, with no family to hold him back. Leadership is a daunting task for him, as Darruk feels inadequate around the more developed members of his tribe; although he is a level headed individual, he feels he does not possess the strength and the courage to lead older men. Daaruk perceives outsiders to be a potential threat, and is very cynical of those unknown to him. This said, to people close to him, Daaruk is a loyal friend and methodical thinker. 

Demeanour: Due to his lack of physical strength, Daaruk tries to present an intimidating exterior, using his height and piercing gaze. He wishes he would grow stronger, but despite his rigorous training routine, he remains relatively thin. Daaruk is often outshone by the more mature and more aggressive members of his tribe, who he strives to imitate, yet his inner gentleness often shos past his attempted Alpha-Male façade.
Quirk: When in the presence of someone he feels inferior to, Daaruk tends to bite his bottom lip, as an unconscious reminder to not say anything which would show disrespect to the higher classed individual.

Background. 
His mother was raped during an attack from a warring tribe, and after falling pregnant with Daaruk, there was much discussion as to whether the child should be allowed to live, as it was an illegitimate son; the seed of hatred and blood. Upon his birth, it was decided Daaruk should be allowed to live, as the future of the tribe was too frail to allow the further destruction of its own people. Daaurk was amidst sabre-lion attacks and the raids of rival tribes from an exceptionally young age, witnessing firsthand the violence that plagued his dying people. It was as a result of his early experiences that Daaruk became protective of younger children and of women; he had no true father.

Daaruk was held in contempt by his tribe’s elders, being the spawn of failure; and due to this, he tried on numerous occasions to redeem himself in their eyes. Daaruk participated in a number of hunts, but the killing did not come naturally to him. He became a skilled rider, warranting his inclusion in subsequent hunts, even after he was found not to be a remorseless killer like so many of the other boys. He was used to herd the steppe beasts into the killing field, but despite his assistance, he was still rejected by the majority of the tribe.

It was during a sabre-lion attack on his tribe that Daaruk became a man. His protective instincts overpowered his fear when a huge beast prowled towards his mother; his only family. He leapt atop the hulking creature and stabbed its eye and flanks over and over, becoming covered in blood and viscera. He hacked at the creature long after it was dead and stood atop it, as if challenging the other monsters being fought off by the tribe. 

A great many had perished that night, the roar of sabre-lions, the screams of infants and the shouts of men had sounded in the canyon. The next morning, the canyon was silent, but for the sound of flames consuming the corpses of men, women, children and beast alike. The fury of Daaruk had been noted by the elders, and it was he, not the other, older, stronger boys who was chosen for training. None but he could stand in the face of death and have no fear. Daaruk had decided to head to take the Trials, confirming his accent to man-hood and becoming better suited to protect his people.


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## Midge913 (Oct 21, 2010)

Here is my offering:

Character Name: Yesugei

Age: 15

Appearance: Yesugei is short for his age, but he is thick and stocky, standing around 5'5" tall, and weighing about 170 pounds. Barrel chested and thick in arm and leg he boasts a strong arm, and swift foot. His head is shaved bare save for a shock of raven black hair on his crown that he wears tied in a top-knot in the traditions of the men of his tribe. His left eyebrow is pierced, a small eagle feather talisman adorning a plain iron ring, given to recognize his sharp and discerning eyes, that shine emerald green beneath heavy brows, and a winding, twisting, and entertwining vivid blue tattoos encircle his arms from wrist to elbow, in the center of the design on the inside of each forearm is a stylized horses head, marking his passage into manhood and his skill with the tribes animals. He bears three thick ropey paralel scars across the top of his left hip received during his manhood trial. Though it is a pathetic attempt to mimic his fathers thick beard, Yesugei sports a dusting of fine hairs on his chin and upper lip, only visible due to the darkness of his hair. He wears a neclace of mountain lion claws, and about his shoulders he wears the pelt of the lion he killed to pass into manhood. 

Personality: Yesugei is a self-confident young man. Sure in his abilities with bow and spear and horse, but he has enough sense to know to ask questions when he is confronted with things he is unfamiliar with. He is a calm man, used to working around the Tribes horses and oxen, and he approaches everything he does with the same determined steady hand that his does when caring for those creatures. He is boistrous with his friends, sure in his position with them, yet he always strives to prove himself better than he was the day before. He is ambititious, but not to the point of envy, for he doesn't begrudge any man that he has rightfully earned. He values hard work and fair dealing, these things he learned from his father, the tribes most skilled horse trader and herdsman. 

Character Nature: Though he is skilled in the few areas that he is, he is neither the best, nor does he aspire to be the best in all things. Believing that each person in the tribe has their place, he is content to strive to be the best horseman the tribe has. He is reluctant to lead, yet this reluctance is what makes most people rely on him much to his frustration. When pushed into it he operates well under pressure, and has a natural instinct for leadership, and whether he wants it or not, his friends look to him to make decisions. This is an irritation for him as he thinks of himself as a simple horseman, not as a leader of men. Every so often this treatment will cause him to bristle with indignation and cause a firey glint to appear in his eye. 

Demeanor: As is consitent with is personality, Yesugei presents a calm collected front, regardless of his true feelings on a particular matter. He has learned that to show panic, fear, or anger is to invite those emotions to take hold of your reason. For the tumultuous time that is early manhood, Yesugei has had this theory tested many times, and it constantly causes him frustration that he cannot control his emotions. He moves carefully and deliberately, as where he is not a big man, he still knows that his short frame belies his true strength. For this reason alone he tries to remain calm and collected. 
Personal Quirk: He is profoundly stubborn and rigid in his beliefs of honor and fairness, and should those beliefs be challenged or disregarded Yesugei will find himself in the grip of a slow burning firey rage. He cannot stand a cheater, a thief, or a dishonest man and this rigid sense of honor has lead to more than one conflict. 

Background: Yesugei was born in the middle of summer, under a full shining Chogoris moon. The screams of his mother echoing across the verdant plain where his nomadic tribe had stopped for the season, quickly falling quiet, replaced by a cry of longing from the newborn babe. His parents would describe him as an easy baby, mostly quiet, taking in the world around him with wide eyes. This trait did not disappear as he grew older. As the summers passed he learned much from his father about the business of horseflesh, and soon found himself to be one of the most skilled riders of his age. Though he remained smaller than the other boys, and was sometimes picked on for it, Yesugei worked all the harder to become skilled in the bow, the spear, and the art of horsemanship. His constant days of toil, packed his small frame with thick muscle, and after a few scuffles the other boys grew to respect him for his strength and easy going manner. His sharp eye and straight dealings when he would help his father, earned him his father's pride and the respect of some of the older men in his tribe. Once Yesugei gave his word, he did not break it and he had the stubborn persistance to see things through to the end no matter the difficulty. 

Though he had no real aspirations to be the tribes finest warrior, his father's profession already greatly respected by the tribe, it was the traditions of his people to train their boys to fight and defend. In the fall of his 15 season he was sent out to complete complete the rite of manhood in the manner that his tribe had for centuries long gone. Every fall the tribe would make camp at the base of the mountain they called the Tower of the gods. There the young men facing the rite would be sent into the foot hills of the mountain, there they would be sent into the mountain passes to hunt and slay one of the large mountain cats that lived there. Needless to say Yesugei was neverous, his friend had failed to come back the year before from his own trial, but he was determined to make his father proud, to prove his worth to the tribe. 

His first night out, he was overjoyed to have stalked and located one of the fearsome beasts, and silently he snuck up to its lair, an arrow already knocked to the string of his bow, spear ready stuck in the ground beside him. He waited patiently, breathing calm, senses focused, waiting for the beast to return from its nightly hunt. Return it did and as it approached, Yesugei let loose his barbed shaft. The beast was faster than he could have imagined and instead of taking the great cat between the ribs, the shaft struck it in the meat of its muscled shoulder. The lion quickly oriented itself on Yesugei, and with a roar that shook him to his very bones, charged forward, wicked claws reaching for him. Yesugei had never been more frightened in his life, but he refused to give ground, and he swung his spear in a cirle around him, forcing the big cat off. The beast made it through his defenses, and with a vicious swipe of its curved claws, opened a series of three cuts to the top of Yesugei's thigh. A lucky reactionary swing from his spear, caught the beast in the eye, ruining the eye and blinding the creature on the right side. With a yowl of pain, the beast retreated into the night, leaving Yesugei there in the canyon leading to its lair, bleeding and shaking. 

Yesugei was loosing a lot of blood, but he refused to give in. ripping his leather jerkin into strips, he tied his leg off at the thigh to stem the flow of blood, and he used some of the training his father had given him in the care of horses, exploring the nearby plants for the weed that would stem the flow and clot the blood. He figured if it worked on horses it would work on him. For several hours he searched until he found it, almost on the verge of passing out, he found the plant that he was looking for and packed the deep wounds with a salve made from the weed and his own saliva. Pale as a ghost, weak from loss of blood, he stood, picked up the trail of blood left by the wounded cat, and tracked it for 2 more days through the mountains. Slowly his strength returned and on the night of the second day, he found his quarry. Sneaking up on the wounded cats blind side, Yesugei, took careful aim with his spear, and with a bellow of feral pride he through the spear with all his strength. The heavy iron tip pierced the cat in the throat and after a few gurgling breaths it fell dead to the ground. With a yell of triumph Yesugei fell upon the corpse, skinned and clawed it in the traditions of his people, and made the arduous journey back out of the mountains. 

When he arrived at his families tent, collapsing to the ground in exhaustion, the heavy lion pelt clutched tightly to his breast, he saw that the elders of the tribe were there. As was the custom, one of the warriors of the village had followed his progress through the mountains, and that his strength to continue after his injury had impressed them. Delight and dismay, in equal proportions filled him as the elders asked him to lead the small group of warriors that would go to the Trials. Though he knew he would miss the life that he would leave behind, Yesugei could not find the strength of will to deny the Elder's commands, and with a heavy backwards glance to the only home he had ever known he mounted his horse, and set off into the night leading the small band of young men into an uncertain future. 

Weapons: a short hunting spear with a heavy iron tip, Horn hilted napped flint dagger that had belonged to his father, Horse-bow and quiver of six bone tipped barbed arrows.

Other: Young coal black stallion named Batkhuyag "Strong Warrior" who Yesugei tamed as a foal.


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## Euphrati (May 24, 2009)

Ok, I'm going to be going over each of the characters individually in a bit (both posted and pm'ed) but I wanted to clarify a few things that seem to be common issues so far-

There are no Grox on Chogoris- The clan herds are composed of horses and a buffalo/yak type beast.

The Trials of Choosing are actual contests of strength, speed, and skill where the best and strongest young warriors of the clans make the journey to the foot of the mountains to compete against one another while the Stormseers watch. Deaths are not uncommon and it isn't unknown for a young brave to take his own life after being rejected instead of returning to his clan in failure.

All of the characters have made it through the first few rounds of culling, you will be entering the last of the trials when the rp begins. You have Not been singled out just yet to actually become White Scars.

A note for those pm'ing me characters for the Stormseer:I suggest that you re-read the glaring pink text _carefully_.


Euphrati said:


> *Note on psy- I will be allowing a _single _player in the squad to be marked for the path of Stormseer and manifest psy-potential throughout the rp. However (and this is a big however...), the powers gained will not be chosen by the player and will not be present from the start of the rp- the abilities will be revealed through updates as the character grows and progresses. If you are interested in your character being considered for this- pm me your character first. Any character sheet posted with psy-potential without the go-ahead from me will be rejected outright. Period.


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## Euphrati (May 24, 2009)

Ok, starting at the top just because-

Rems with the young warrior Khasar:

Just a few alterations that I would like to see done to his background, otherwise he is looking very solid. I would like to note, however, that just because Khasar is overly tall as a youth, does not automatically mean that he will be _epicly_ tall as an Astartes (if he survives to that point....).

First, just like there are no wolves on Fenris...there are no grox on Chogoris  Change that to horses or grass-yak and drop the number captured to under 40.
Secondly, have Khasar and his band of youths prepare to make their get away but in process of the raid an ember from one of the kicked up cooking fires finds the wind and sparks one of the most dangerous things on the steppes: a grasslands wildfire. The youths take cover in the valley, but when they emerge- naught but ash and corpses will remain, including those of the women and younglings on both sides. With the shock of what has happened, no one will know just where to go until one of the youths recalls it is the time of the Trials- at which point you turn your horses towards the distant mountains and the only path left.
Third- Don't forget to include your mount.

Darkreever with the tale of Ganzorig:

Accepted, with a small alteration- The Rider Ganzorig encounters points him in the direction of the Trials, however when the Rider turns to leave him- Ganzorig will notice a old clan tattoo marking the side of his neck in the stylized shape of a great grass cat's skull. The same symbol worn by the warriors of Ganzorig's clan.


Amoeba Bait with the fair Daaruk:

Daaruk is looking fine until the last bit- loose the part about the 'great ship and the Sky Warriors' (we are not on Fenris last I checked) and have Daaruk decide to gather was he has left and ride for the Trials to prove once and for all that he is worthy.

Midge913 with the short, and rather stocky, Yesugei

Knock his weight down for me- 190 at 15 is fairly on the high end of things. He is still working on his 'colt/young stallion' stage in life and should have somewhat of that same lankiness.

Also, no 'Sky Warriors' in the tent when he gets back home... but the elders of tribe are there and ask him to lead the group of young warriors from the tribe that are heading to the Trials (much to his mother's dismay).


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## Serpion5 (Mar 19, 2010)

Let`s see... 

*Name:* Cheng

*Age:* 15

*Appearance:* Lean Build, Small to Medium in height. Close cut black hair and the beginnings of a thin beard on his chin. Face is angular and gaunt. 

*Personality:* Always up for a laugh and quick to crack a joke at another`s expense. Nonetheless loyal to comrades and will see to their needs before his own. Has a positive outlook in the most trying of circumstances, reasoning that the worst that could happen is a death in the Emperor`s or the ancestor`s name. In a social setting, Cheng is the fellow who draws attention to himself whenever he can, be it by staging a humorous display of his own prowess or another`s lack of. Regardless of any projected barbs however Cheng never truly means to insult and is difficult to insult in turn. Even the harshest of criticisms will be dismissed as a joke unless they are directly pertinent to his combat or leadership abilities. For the most part he keeps a reserved opinion on things and will approach most situations with an open mind. 

Cheng is of the assertion that those who lack the commitment and respect due the chain of command are dangerous individuals who can fracture the unity of a tribe or squad. So while he may not show it, those striving for leadership will fall under the heaviest scrutiny in his eyes until he accepts that they are better qualified for leadership than he is. This in itself will not deter any bonds of brotherhood or comradeship, but it will compel him to step forth and make his opinion known if he feels an unworthy individual is receiving an undue promotion or entitlement. 

In battle, Cheng takes the lead wherever he can. The reason for this can be considered by some to be concern, arrogance or battlelust but just as likely is the hunger for leadership and glory. Cheng had a strong admiration for the heroes and deeds to be found among history (both tribal and what he has learned of the chapter thus far) and has made no secret of his desire to have his name among the greatest of the chapter.

Like all his people and the other tribes beyond his own, Cheng was well versed in riding from a very young age and anticipates the opportunity to ride in the legendary roaring steeds of the chapter. His enthusiasm when riding often breeds undue bravado and a reckless streak normally held in check. If this is how he acts on horseback, how will he be when he is eventually granted ridership of a one of these mighty machines? 

*Background:* Cheng was destined for the life of a hunter and warrior of his tribe, as were all the young boys of his age. That is, were it not for the foretold time of the Trials of Choosing. The traditional rituals of the first hunt and the passage to manhood were suspended to allow the Stormseers of the White Scars to conduct their rites of choosing the most promising. His father made it clear that he wanted Cheng to be chosen, for the prestige of having a son among the Sky born gods of battle was one that would see their family raised to the elite of the village. For this reason, Cheng was put forth immediately when the Stormseers came to their settlement. His pride at being nominated was couple with concern for the wellbeing of several of the other aspirants put forth. Alas, this had little effect on his enthusiasm.

Cheng was honoured, but little surprised. His father and elder brother had always told him he had the makings of a great leader and that this would be the path to his true destiny. In an act of showing off, Cheng insisted upon dueling two opponents at once to the amusement of the Stormseers. When he emerged triumphant from this part of the trials with nothing more than a worn out sword arm, the White Scars knew there was something more to be found with him. If nothing else, he would make a promising swordsman. Cheng also made it a point to ensure that the others of his tribe were not chosen, for he did not deem any of them fit for the title to be had. Thus were his efforts almost unusually focused towards his own kin... 

*Weapons:* Cheng uses the traditional weapons of his calling with practiced ease, but nowhere is his skill more apparent than with a sword. His affinity for the curved blade of a scimitar was unmatched among the boys and young men of his tribe and his every free moment was spent sparring with the other children in imitation of the heroes of legend. This bred an unequaled skill with quick bladework and Cheng yearns for the chance to prove this talent to his astartes superiors. 

*Other:* Cheng`s Stallion is a coal furred horse who he has named Hasar. Hasar is fairly young, having been tamed in recent years by Cheng himself. He has a strong sentimental attachment, probably attributed to this being Cheng`s first owned steed.


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## Midge913 (Oct 21, 2010)

Took care of the edits to my character sheet. The weight more acceptable now?


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## Santaire (Feb 13, 2011)

Name: Dalar

Age: 14

Appearance: Slim and tall with sharp, angular features. His eyes are bright green and his long hair raven black. He is clean shaven and classically handsome and some would expect him to have already found someone to spend the rest of his life with. However he shuns contact with those who he does not believe worthy of his respect. His skin is unscarred by blade or arrow, the only marred feature being a single cut on his palm. He moves with a liquid grace and a whipcord speed, possessing strength equal to that of many larger men. Despite his bright green eyes are filled with warmth, although he is often distant in his actions. He wears loose fitting cloth and carries an iron tipped hardened wood shafted spear, an iron bladed and horn hilted dagger and a wooden horse bow. Also in a quiver strapped to his back he carries 6 bone tipped arrows with sharp barbs carved into them, to maximise the damage upon impact as well as tearing the flesh when someone attempted to remove the arrow heads.


Personality 

Nature: Humble to those he respects and likes however he has no respect for cowards, fools or self important people. This has led to many believing him to be arrogant but this is not true, he knows his limits and is not fool enough to try to exceed them. To those he does respect he is much more likable and humorous. Despite all this he has a great capacity for hatred that only few people have discovered, most of them not having the time to regret doing so. Nothing is above him when searching for vengeance. Against any other foe he is honourable and sometimes merciful, but with those he hates he will pull heaven and earth to kill or humiliate them. Steadfast and loyal; he will sacrifice all for his brothers and those who have earned his respect. 

He is quick to anger and slow to calm down afterwards. In truth he is a brooding man, given to melancholy but still being able to join his brothers. He is reckless and fiercely protective of his brothers; however he sometimes takes this a bit too far. He is also extremely blunt, possessing no subtly in speech. He takes things as he see’s them and this has sometimes led to him being fought because of a passing remark. He is judgemental of others and this causes his bluntness to cause even more offense. As well as ordinary humour he is also sarcastic. When put together this creates either a good friend or a hated enemy. The latter seems all too common.

Demeanour: To those he does not know he presents a level headed warrior with a daredevil streak in him. He smiles in the face of death although somehow still managing to present the image of a cool headed fighter. He is an idealist and it shows in his actions. However this can sometimes cause problems when his ideals clash with the beliefs of others. 

Quirk: Dalar is a very reliable man. However he is also extremely stubborn with a determination to never fail. When he has made an oath he will see it through whatever the cost. Being a man of honour this determination is doubled. Indeed the only thing that would stop him would either be a release from the oath or putting the lives of his brothers at risk.

Background: Born to a relatively rich tribe Dalar was as good as expected. He was a good warrior, fast, agile and an expert rider. However when he was 13 things took a turn for the worst. His tribe was attacked and defeated by a rival clan while he and his father were out hunting. His mother enslaved, his sister killed and his new born brother burned alive. He and his father returned to the camp to find it in flames and the last of the attackers leaving. They fell on the men and their ferocity was such that within minutes all were dead.

Dalar killed several men that day, the last of which a man the same age as his father. A woman of the tribe had already fled and looking after her Dalar saw her tugging a young man roughly 2 years younger than him who was startlingly reminiscent of the man lying dead in front of him. The boy gave him a look of undisguised venom and the young warrior’s heart sank, knowing the child would never rest until he killed the man who murdered his father, Dalar

His Father! The single thought froze Dalar in his tracks and he turned and sprinted for where his father had been fighting. The man lay dying on the ground and Dalar sank to his knees. “No,” he wept as he watched the life fade from his father’s eyes. With the last of his strength the warrior reached up and clasped his last living child’s hand. “Avenge me,” the man said and with that his grip loosened and he exhaled his last breath. Dalar wept on his knees beside the man who had raised him, taught him everything he knew and protected him from the beasts of the night. When he had finished his mourning he took his father’s knife and armour before burying the warrior. As he knelt above the grave of the man whom he had loved most dearly he cut his palm and let the blood drip from it onto the mound that covered the mortal resting place of his father.

He swore an oath to hunt the men who killed his family and enslaved his mother. It would take years for his oath to reach completion for the tribe that had attacked was strong but Dalar was only after one, the man he had seen running from the scene of his father’s death. 5 weeks later he snuck into their camp, armed with his father’s knife. He crept to the tent where the man slept and cut a slit in the back, slipping through into the darkness. He raised the dagger above his enemy’s head and then suddenly thrust it downwards, killing the man in a single blow.

He left the tent and went to where the few slaves were kept and where he would find his mother. As he approached it however a drunken man walked up to them and demanded his mother follow. She did, meekly although Dalar could see the fire in her eyes. He followed behind the pair and gripped his dagger more tightly. The drunk kicked her brutally into the tent before stepping in himself. Before he could do anything else Dalar sprinted forward and buried his knife to the hilt in the warrior’s back. At the same time he placed a hand over the man’s mouth to muffle his scream of pain.

He pushed the corpse over and nodded to his mother, who had managed to remain perfectly composed, as if she was rescued by her recently turned 14 yr old son every day. He beckoned her to follow him. She did so and he led her to the fence of the camp. As they crossed it however they were seen and she was shot in the back. The arrow hurled her forward and Dalar caught her. He froze when he realized she wasn’t breathing. He lowered her gently to the floor and kissed her. Then he straightened and turned towards the camp, eyes full of fire.

He leapt into the midst of the disorganized warriors and his hatred drove him onwards. He shouted as he killed and laughed aloud, the howling laugh of the damned. That laugh was not just his own and the unearthly sound froze the men in their tracks and he simply killed more. Then when he finally reached the end of his endurance and saw an arrow pointed at him when a thunderous stampede of horses barrelled past. Seizing his chance his chance Dalar leapt forward and grasped a hold of the bridle of a young black stallion.

He fled the camp and took refuge in a forest not far from the camp. He named the young stallion Volo and, realizing he had nothing left to return to, he collected what little baggage he possessed began the long journey to the base of the mountains where the trials concerning entry into the White Scars space marine chapter were held…

Equipment
Iron tipped hunting spear
Iron bladed dagger
Horse bow
Bone tipped arrows

Horse: A nimble black stallion named Volo


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## Euphrati (May 24, 2009)

Serpion5- Cheng is accepted, however understand that at the moment he does not have a tulwar- he only has the weapons listed that were given to him for the trials (dagger/spear/horsebow & arrows).

Midge- Note his eye colour and Yesugei is accepted.

Santaire- Dalar is accepted, but ditch the leather armour from his equipment. I didn't notice it earlier and such a thing would be considered cowardly for a young warrior of the Steppes.


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## Santaire (Feb 13, 2011)

Done


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## Midge913 (Oct 21, 2010)

Final edits made.


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## Rems (Jun 20, 2011)

Changes made. I of course understand that just because Khasar is tall now he wont be ridiculously tall post transformation. To be honest i didn't think he would turn out to be any taller than the other astartes (though it would be nice if he was a bit taller i suppose). I just thought it would be interesting for his character.


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## Amoeba Bait (May 31, 2010)

Euphrati said:


> Amoeba Bait with the fair Daaruk:
> 
> Daaruk is looking fine until the last bit- loose the part about the 'great ship and the Sky Warriors' (we are not on Fenris last I checked) and have Daaruk decide to gather was he has left and ride for the Trials to prove once and for all that he is worthy.


Can do. k:


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## Serpion5 (Mar 19, 2010)

Understood Euphrati. I wanted to emphasize his skill with a blade but am well aware he will not have one yet.


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## unxpekted22 (Apr 7, 2009)

*Name*: Bidziil 

*Age:* 13

*Appearance:* 

Nimble looking, light muscled figure of a tribe raised 13-year old boy. Due to riding horseback nearly his whole life and climbing up mountainous rocks where his tribe would set up camps, most of his muscle is in his legs and hips. For his upper body, his strongest and therefore most pronounced muscles are his shoulders; likely from learning how to hurl javelins and shoot arrows from such a young age. 

He is lightly tanned. He has almost fluffy black hair that is long enough to reach the base of his neck in the back. It is somewhere between straight and wavy so that it really ends up just looking messy. When riding, he often keeps it loosely tied back. He has brown eyes, and a few noticebale gaps betwen his teeth, but nothing hideous or outright distracting. He where's a tight band of rope around his upper right arm with a small talisman of his tribe attached, which bounces lightly against his skin when he moves at a quick pace.

He wears a low cut but well fitting tunic mostly light brown with a few red and blue tribal color pieces stitched in. The top two-thirds of his chest tattoo can be seen while he wears it. It is a circle with three comet-like shapes encircling one in the center. All males born into the tribe recieve the piece to constantly remind them of the tribe's philosophy of team work. 

*Personality:*

His tribe is not particularly violent or invasive, so niether is he. His tribe strictly teaches their members the value of teamwork and cooperation, particularly in hunting and battle. As such, he would likely loathe any one who was an attention whore or glory seeker. These concepts are so foreign to him, he can barely comprehend them and wouldn't be able to understand why someone would act this way. For him, the hunt, the fight, the struggle, it is more important to be victorious with as little lost in the process as possible, rather than emerge the single standing hero. 

He is obsessed with discussing hunting and battle strategy. So far in his life it has been mostly about hunting since his tribe has had much more experience in that matter the past 13 years than any major tribal warfare. The few times a defensive discussion did come up amongst the elders, he and the other boys of the tribe were always encouraged to listen in. His eyes would always stare in amazement and wonder at the extent of greater strategic possibilties that warfare seemed to bring over hunting. Humans against humans was just so much more intense to think about. To someone of another tribe, this attribute could potentially be annoying as he will excitedly talk about strategy for hours if given the opportunity. Even if it involves hunting field grazing herbivores...

He also does not like to waste anything.

*Nature and Demeanor*: Bidziil is not very aggressive or violent in any malevolent sense. He is not passive though, and wont hesitate to say what is on his mind, after all he has never had much reason NOT to say what is on his mind. He holds the ideals of his tribe close to heart and finds the bonds of allies a very important thing to keep for without the team, so little can truly be achieved. He is not sure what he wants to achieve in his life, ultimately, but just goes by what he has learned and strives to be better at the things he seems to have a natural talent for. He is definitely one to taunt his friends and sometimes can get carried away with annoying them, not thinking much about it affecting their opinions of him. In his own opinion, those he is around should know what is and is not a big deal. Given his age, this scope is often skewed and he has a hard time seeing things from others' point of view. 


*Quirk:* One more odd trait to his persoanlity that fairs a bit different from the ones mentioned above is his extreme dislike for any bug-like creature. All tactical sense flees from his mind and he will run away from them or brutally kill them, smashing them beyond death. Perhaps some frustrating insect bit him as an infant, he isn't sure, all he knows is that he hates bugs. This is not a fear so much as a disgust.

*Background*:

His life has been pretty straightforward. He has grown up in the clan I have briefly describes in the above sections. No tragic events have occured to him. He still has both of his parents and respects them greatly. Like most tribes of the Steppes, its young males are taught to ride horseback, hunt, and be both mentally and physically strong from day one. Recently, the trials of choosing have come again. Bidziil has performed adequately for his age in terms of strength, weapon, and martial skill. But it was clear to all the elders that tactically he was far beyond even the adolescenets in the tribe who were of 15 and 16 cycles. Despite some protest form the other boys, it was enough for them to choose Bidziil as their tribe's best candidate for the Seers. 

*Weapons*: His tribe is knowledgable when it comes locations of Iron deposits. Thus, he has an iron tipped hunting spear, and a short, curved iron dagger. The arrows upon his back are also tipped with the metal. 

*Horse:* A red haired stallion named Nektosha. He has ridden this horse for about about three years now.


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## Jackinator (Nov 18, 2008)

Name: Tanai

Age: 14 Summers

Description: Tanai is a fey youth, small and slight, with deep sunken eyes that stare out from a wasted face. His head is shaved bald save for a single braid from the back of his head, twined with sinew. He is slim, but wirily muscled from a life in the saddle and a simple ring hangs from his right earlobe, while a fang on a simple leather thong hangs around his neck.

Personality: Tanai has a sharp intelligence behind his sunken eyes, despite this however, he is not one for quick decisions, he shies away from leadership, unwilling to make snap decisions that might affect the fate of those around him. He often comes across as a bit of a know-it-all, answering questions before they have been finished and striving to prove himself.

Nature: Tanai wants to prove that he is just as capable as any other, but deep down fears his own inadequacy, something he hides but can never quite run from, never quite conquer. His biggest insecurity is himself, and his fear of doing the wrong thing, he fears the responsibility of power.

Demeanour: Tanai attempts to present the world with a calm, collected exterior, even when he is going to pieces behind his eyes he always tries to convince others of his capability. He is unlikely to take command for fear of revealing how much of a façade he is, usually remaining in the background, happy to appear to display his own initiative, when deeply he fears that in command he would just freeze up.

Personal Quirk: Tanai becomes easily frustrated, needing a task to focus himself and hates failing at the task, he tends to pace when he’s thinking, needing the physical movement to help him order the turbulent thoughts in his mind. Perhaps the one thing that sets him apart most however, are his instincts.

Background: Tanai was born a member of the Kerait tribe, a powerful clan of the upper steppes. His was a difficult birth, his father’s first son, he was his only son, his mother dying in childbirth. He was, needless to say, a disappointment, he was thin and weakly, born mewling but despite his obvious weakness his father felt drawn to keep him. He grew up at the lowest point of his father’s family, while his father went on to sire another two sons on another woman.

His life was empty and humiliating, despite his father’s status as one of it’s foremost warriors the tribe understood his feelings about his first born son. He was often left behind when the men of the clan went out hunting, long after even his younger brothers were taken out. His father’s disdain saw that he was just left with the women, and despite himself he found that he had learnt many of their arts during the long days alone at the camp. From sewing to medicine he drank in the knowledge, at one point he was beaten when he was caught sneaking into the Shaman’s tent. What worried his father was that he was returning something, not taking it.

He determined he would have to force his embarrassing son to become a man and at the next site he took him out on the hunt. It was a hunt that would change his life forever. They had been stalking a herd of grox, and as the men were poised and ready to strike, Tanai felt a twinge of pain in his left arm, he jerked it sharply away, scowling and flattening the offending insect. One of the grass-yak raised it’s head, alerted. His brother glared at him while his father flapped with his hand as the animals gently grazed into the area they had selected as their killing ground. Then, mere scant moments after he had moved, a massive grass-cat launched itself from it’s hiding place, it’s massive claws lacerating the ground where he had been lying. His brother had no time for anything other than a gasp as it ripped his head off with one snap of it’s titanic jaws. Horse’s screamed in terror as two other felines appeared among the hunting party and the grox stampeded. Shouting warriors were trampled as they attempted to scramble into saddles, others were brought down by the enormous predators. One brother dead, Tanai backed away cautiously, trying to avoid the big cats fury. But it turned to him and began to prowl towards him, scenting his fear. He glanced towards the tree, should he risk it, no, his spear was too far away.

With a dreadful yowl the beast sprang at him, he screamed in terror as it sailed towards him claws outstretch, before some strange urge made his frozen limbs move and threw him out of the way, it’s claws shredding the skin of his back instead of tearing open his chest. He staggered forwards and reached his spear, snatching it up and turning unsteadily to face the beast, it leapt towards him once again and he went over backwards with a cry. It was only when he felt the warm blood dripping on his face that he opened his eyes. It had thrown itself onto his spear, gutting it and it roared and thrashed in pain above him, unable to reach him in his death throes. He closed his eyes and mercifully fell into unconsciousness.

When he woke he was in his father’s tent, bandages wrapped around his torso. He staggered out into the blinding sunlight, the camp had moved, he must have been carried in a sling saddle. He saw the tribesmen staring at him, whispering to each other, but not in a cruel way, with a new respect in their eyes. His father strode up, smiling with unaccustomed pride. He slapped Tanai on the back, almost eliciting a cry of pain, before proclaiming to those watching that the chief and shaman had confirmed Tanai’s manhood, his rites would take place that very night.

Unaccustomed to the attention heaped upon him, and still weak and swaying from lack of blood he withdrew to his father’s tent to sleep. Fire and death woke him. The tent was aflame, women and children screaming out in the camp as shadows rode them down. Some warriors still stood, fighting back against the dark figures of a rival tribe. An arrowshot flew past his head and a horse screamed, it’s rider tumbling to the ground just in front of Tanai. The man stood quickly, drawing a long hunting knife and glancing around, before advancing on the injured youth in front of him. He began to back away, but stumbled over something warm, it was his father’s body. He finally realised then, felt at peace. An utter stillness seethed within as he snatched the fallen knife from beside the corpse, coming up with a scream and driving the knife into the surprised man’s guts.

He found a new lease of life that day, killing three more men before the wounds they inflicted, and the cuts that had re-opened along his back finally began to take their toll. He felt weary, tired, he no longer wanted to fight, and at that a youth appeared in front of him. Dismounting from his stallion he drew a hunting knife, and grinned, beckoning to the swaying Tanai. The youth was older, almost a full-grown man, easily 16 or 17 summers old. When Tanai simply stared dumbly at him he scowled, stepping forward to slay him like the witless fool he apparently was.

But as he struck Tanai swung his arm round wildly, slapping the blade away so it missed him completely as his knife shot forward and nearly impaled the youth. He looked shocked at the sudden speed but then grinned again, his teeth white in a face blackened by soot. He moved lightning fast and Tanai was pushed to limits he didn’t know he could reach, drawing on strength he didn’t know he had left to stay alive as the knife flashed in and out in a complex weave of death. He stumbled back, tripping over a tent guy rope as the youth raised his knife to strike him down. Tanai scrabbled in the dirt, then threw a handful into the boys face. Scrambling to his feet in this respite, blood and tears caking his face and obscuring his vision.

Realising that this was no more than just a mere dirty brawl in the darkness the two boys separated, prowling around in a circle. The grinning youth stayed completely focused on the unsteady Tanai, who couldn't ignore the distractions of the screams and crackling firelight. He glanced away a few too many times however and his opponent took that moment to strike, only to find that Tanai was no longer there, he had lost his footing and staggered, as the blow whistled harmlessly over his head. He lashed out clumsily, desperate to make some sort of effort to save himself. Shock was on the youth's face, blood bubbled from the crude slash in his throat, and slowly, oh so slowly, he toppled backwards. Tanai stared uncomprehendingly at the body, then fell slowly forwards, into darkness…

He woke to a the smell of burnt flesh, a snout was gently nudging his side and he looked up to see Tuli. There was no-one else around, he was among the smoking tents of his tribe's burned encampment. Tuli nuzzled at his shoulder and he turned and embraced his horse. They must be the only two survivors, the rest killed or enslaved. He couldn't cry at it, he hadn't loved it, but now. He mounted Tuli, turning towards the distant mountains.

Weapons: Hunting spear - napped flint tip
Horn hilted dagger - iron bladed
Horse-bow
Quiver of arrows - bone tipped

Other: Tuli, a pale, dappled grey (white to none equestrians ) stallion, the one friend Tanai has known has been by his side despite everything. Perhaps it is a childish way of looking at it, but Tuli has never judged him as his clan has.


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## Rems (Jun 20, 2011)

Methinks we have our future Stormseer.


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## Euphrati (May 24, 2009)

I have *not *decided on the character that will be manifesting powers yet as I'm still awaiting the submission of 1-2 possible characters for the slot. Physical incompetence and 'fey-ness' does not prerequisite psy-powers in the slightest as far as I'm concerned.

That said- since we have hit page 3 I'm going to take a moment to list the accepted characters (in reverse order this time). Some of you might notice an addition to your character:

Jackinator with the scrawny Tanai: Accepted. 




Jackinator said:


> Name: Tanai
> 
> Age: 14 Summers
> 
> ...


Honour Scar: Tanai bears a horizontal honour scar on his right cheek cut by his father when he announced Tanai's acceptance into manhood for avenging his brother. The mark is still healing and is a source of hidden shame due to the fact that Tanai knows it wasn't rightfully earned as he was acting in fear, not revenge, when he killed the great cat.
-
unxpekted22 with the strategic Bidziil: Accepted- pending pm'ed clarifications.




unxpekted22 said:


> *Name*: Bidziil
> 
> *Age:* 13
> 
> ...



-
Santaire with the handsome Dalar: Accepted.




Santaire said:


> Name: Dalar
> 
> Age: 14
> 
> ...



-
Seripon5 with the blade-keen Cheng: Accepted.




Serpion5 said:


> *Name:* Cheng
> 
> *Age:* 15
> 
> ...



-
Midge913 with the stocky Yesugei: Accepted.




Midge913 said:


> Character Name: Yesugei
> 
> Age: 15
> 
> ...



-
Amoeba Bait with the pale Daaruk: Accepted. 




Amoeba Bait said:


> Character Name: Daaruk
> 
> Age: 15
> 
> ...


Honour Scar: Daaruk recieved a single honour scar at the hand of his tribe's leader before leaving for the Trails to remind him of the weight he carries for tribe and his ancestors.
-
Darkreever with the young Ganzorig: Accepted.




darkreever said:


> Name: Ganzorig
> 
> Age: 14
> 
> ...


Honour Scar: One of the swipes of the dying cat grazed Ganzorig's face- leaving a single, clean wound across his features with its razor-shape claw. Whether or not he considers the mark to be an honour scar is up to him, but it is there none the less.
-
Rems with the lofty Khasar: Accepted.




Rems said:


> *Character Name*: Khasar
> 
> *Age*: 16
> 
> ...



---
That puts us at 8 young warriors facing the Trials currently- those still working on characters should get them submitted in the next few days if at all possible. Note: the recruitment thread *will not *be 'closed' upon start of the action thread, so late comers are still welcome.


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## dark angel (Jun 11, 2008)

Name: Subutai. 

Age: 16.

Appearance: Tall, slender and graceful; with skin the colour of polished copper, almost panther-like in his every movement, each step calculated and predatory. His eyes are a pale bluish-purple, sad and empty, glittering with inner malevolence, set between sharp-cutting cheekbones and a thin, aquiline nose. He wears his coal-black hair in a tall and dignified topknot, decorated with colourful ribbons, fetishes of bone and small, ceremonial bells. 

Upon his left shoulder, intricately tattooed, is an dual hint towards his past - A clawed hand, clutching aggressively at a bloodied heart, - The bloodied heart signifying his noble lineage, the talon tattooed over the initial marking, to show his slavery. A brand, if you will. 

Personality: 

Character Nature: A cruel and cunning individual, as crafty as a wolf, with a blackheart and venomous humours, never smiling with happiness. He is loud and boisterous, quick to anger and quicker to judge others. Despite this, to those whom he bonds with, he is caring and relatively happy; protective over them, to an extent that it becomes possessive, though this should not be considered a bad thing. 

Character Demeanor: At heart, Subutai is somewhat caring about all of his companions, though he hides it in malice and greed, rather than openly showing his affections - He knows no other way, after all.

Intelligent, Subutai is a prominent tactician; capable of analyzing a situation, deciphering the best course of action and proceeding on it, - Though, he is somewhat callous, uncaring over materiel and personal losses, willing to lose a battle if it would win a war. 

Oddly, however, Subutai is no leader. His impatience and malice works against him, rendering him as more of a backseat commander; whispering words of wisdom, or playing the game of thrones; maneuvering himself into a more advantageous position amongst his companions. 

Character Quirk: Humorously, Subutai tends to bunch his hands into fists when aggravated, flexing his hands open and shut, longing for a Tulwar. 

Background: The fifth-born son of Toghrul Khan, a brutal and esteemed leader upon the Steppes, Subutai was never destined for leadership. Toghrul Khan was a noyan amongst the Jadaran Confederation, a gathering of tribes under one, iron-fisted leader; leading one of the Jadaran tumens, a host of five-hundred heads, murderers and murderesses all, striving for the ultimate rule of the Steppes.

Subutai was born on a night of great celebration, amongst the ruined encampment of a passive clan. It was said by many of the Jadaran that Subutai was a gift from the Sky Father, Tengri himself, due to the almost ritualistic nature of his birth, in the aftermath of a bloody battle; amongst corpse-strewn fields and bloodied grass. 

Those born on the eve of a great battle would become warriors of renown, or so ancient word went; and because of this, Subutai had a name to live up to. 

For several years he lived, prospering in his father’s fortune and social status, roaming the Steppes, never partaking in Toghrul Khan’s sporadic bloodlettings and wars of attrition. 

In his twelfth year, a great misfortune fell over Toghrul Khan’s tumen. He had fallen from favour with the other Jadaran Khans, insulting their more laidback tactics. 

And thus, once the tumen was crossing a stretch of marshland, the attack was sprung. Several hundred screamers, Tulwars agleam in their hands, rode from their concealed positions, while arrows rained down on Toghrul’s tumen. Three of the Khan’s children were killed instantaneously, feathered by their former allies. 

Toghrul Khan died fighting, leading his closest warriors in a desperate counterattack, struck from his horse by a arrow to the throat. Subutai played no active part in the slaughter, watching as his family was murdered, their blood colouring the grass. He spat, kicked and hit; as he was dragged away from his mother’s cold, dead hands. 

It had been one last act of mercy, spoken from his mother’s lips, that had saved him - Calling on an ancient blood debt, between her own family and that of the Jadaran; before being killed by a blade to her throat. 

Enslavement was a fate undeserving of him, and yet, he was handed over to Altan Khan - One of his father’s chief lieutenants, and a key player in his downfall. 

Years of brutal slavery followed and after several unsuccessful attempts to escape, Subutai was fettered and flogged, placed under Altan’s direct eyesight. 

He cared for his lord’s mounts and every needs, bathing him; polishing his weapons, trophies and labouring for his many wives. And then, on one night, the city of gers became an hubbub of activity. 

The time of the Trials had begun. Boys from the Jadaran Confederation gathered, in preparation for the upcoming event, in which children would become men; become one of the mythical Riders.

Characteristically, Altan forbid Subutai from taking part, for he was his possession and no-one else’s. A jealous rage overtook Subutai. While Altan bathed that night, Subutai wrapped his chains around the master’s throat, pulling until his face blackened, and his lord’s corpse slipped beneath the steamy water. 

Casting the chains into the water with his master’s corpse, he realised the severity of the situation, and panicked. 

Taking Altan’s clothes, Tulwar and bow, Subutai fled the camp; pursued by a trio of Altan’s vengeful sons. He felled two with arrows, punching them from their saddles, screaming inanely. The third was skillful, evading each arrow, before engaging Subutai in a ferocious swordfight. 

Outmatched and in an hopeless situation, Subutai betrayed the rules of engagement; thrusting the Tulwar through the man’s groin. He left the other boy there, spitted, a sardonic smile upon Subutai’s lips. 

He fled the scene, not caring if he was pursued; focused solely on the Trials ahead. He would make his father proud, and escape the vengeance of the Jadaran, - Once and for all. 

Mount: Jelme, once belonging to Altan; a tall and sinuous beast, with skin as black as pitch and fiery mane.


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## Jackinator (Nov 18, 2008)

Euphrati said:


> I have *not *decided on the character that will be manifesting powers yet as I'm still awaiting the submission of 1-2 possible characters for the slot. Physical incompetence and 'fey-ness' does not prerequisite psy-powers in the slightest as far as I'm concerned.


No, I concur, I just happen to like weak characters or weird characters, I find them more interesting, plus it's not that he's neccessarily physically incompetent, it's that he was just generally disappointing, he did succeed in killing a grass cat and various enemy tribesmen after all . Plus it just means that he feels he has more to prove, definitely should make it interesting in the trials :biggrin:


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## CattleBruiser (Sep 3, 2011)

*Name*: Chang-Jian
*Age*: 16
*Appearance*: Chang-Jian is not particularly tall, nor is he particularly large, coming in at 5 foot 2 and 130 lbs. He is thin with the appearance of slightly less muscles than he really has,though he is just as strong as others his age. His skin is tanned from long days under the sun. His head is shaved bald, for hair does nothing but add unnecessary heat and weight to a head. His nose is prominent and his eyes are a green, the colour of a grassy meadow. On his right cheek there is a straight scar, a gift from the rival clan raiders for even thinking about trying to stop them.
*Personality*: Chang-Jian is crafty and is known to often times take an unorthodox method to accomplish tasks traditionally set before men of taller or heavier builds. In a fight Chang-Jian is no different, he is not above using underhanded tactics to win fights and believes that in times of battle honour is a suggestion, not a law. 
Although he believes that honour is a suggestion in wartime, in peace he is honourable to the extreme, believing that a man’s word is a binding contract. Since he believes that one's word is so important he is not nearly as rash as others his age in giving promises to others. This code of honour is a personal thing. One he learned from his father, but a code that isn't as strict with the other members of his clan. On the off-chance that he finds himself in a fight with an opponent to whom he has given his promise on something he will fight the opponent, but in such a way that he doesn't' break his oath in the process. 
In training Chang-Jian is determined to always know that if a fight were to break out at any moment, he would end up on top. He knows that this isn’t possible, but that only serves to make him train harder. Chang-Jian will never boast about his skill at arms, for it makes him feel uncomfortable to be the center of attention in anything, and that he feels that boastful people are annoying and not to be emulated. In everyday life he tends to prefer to stand in areas where sneaking up on him is difficult, such as areas that make noise when you walk and areas with limited movement and a good field of view.
Chang-Jian is not an introvert, nor is he a particularly outgoing person. He will try to make friends with those that he knows he's going to be around for a while, but he won't go out of his way to try to make everyone his friend.He will generally make a decision about whether a person will or will not be a good friend within minutes of meeting them. He doesn't voice these opinions out loud and he tries not to let this affect how he treats them in almost all things (the only difference in how he treats them is that for those he decides will be good friends he will be more active in befriending them), for he knows that they have done nothing to deserve any different treatment.
*Quirk*: When thinking deeply Chang-Jian has a habit of chewing on grass, although anything not too hard will do. When Chang-Jian is tired his mind tends to wander a lot, so a sign that Chang-Jian is getting tired is when he starts to chew grass more and more often.
*Background*: Chang-Jian was born in a rather boring manner, he had a normal mother and father, learned to ride, hunt, and fight like any other boy, and thought that life would go on like that forever. Fate, however, had a different plan. 
When he was 10, rival clan raiders came upon his home. He was quickly overwhelmed, the clan's flock, which he was tasked with watching at the time, taken and his sister killed for stabbing a bandit through the heart with a dagger. The clan wanted vengeance on the rival clan, however the raiders had each worn the clothes of a different clan that it would be impossible to truely tell which clan the raiders had come from. From that day forth he spent all his free time training with a zeal, vowing to himself never to be too weak to defend those close to him again. Many times he wishes he could ignore other tasks in favor of dedicated training sessions, however he doesn't because he promised that he'd see to the other tasks.
One time when training he caught the attention of one of the clan elders due to his swift blade arm, able to add an extra stroke in each of the drills done without losing tempo. Here he learned that the time of the trials was approaching, and the clan elder wanted him to participate. Chang-Jian was honoured deeply, all the while confident that with enough training he could come out on top..
*Weapons*: a short hunting spear with a wooden shaft and an iron tip, a dagger with a hilt of horn and blade of iron, and a recurve bow and 6 arrows (He intends to paint each arrow with a band of green, since green was his sister's favorite color).
*Other*: a horse by the name of Midnight, due to his jet-black coat, and the fact that when he decends upon his foe he does so like a force of nature, unstoppable. Midnight isn't particularly aggressive to most people, though he is almost impossible to keep calm around people he perceives as a threat to Chang-Jian.


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## Jackinator (Nov 18, 2008)

Hey hey, any idea when the action thread'll be up ? I'm looking forward to this one


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## Amoeba Bait (May 31, 2010)

Yeah. If you can let me know when this is going to be up and running, thatn would be great. I've got my final exams coming up this week so an update would be good.

:victory:


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## Euphrati (May 24, 2009)

I just got back this afternoon from Winter Wars XI (a medieval combat event).

Around 180 screaming fighters clashing in both open field battles and close-quarter forest assualts that apexed in a gauntlet clash that lasted nearly an hour of continual shield line to shield line madness. I am utterly sore, sporting multiple bruises (I think some of my bruises have bruises...), and entirely exhausted.

In other words- I had one *hell *of a good time and can't wait for Ides of March to get here.

What does all that mean to Scars of Khan- Unbroken might you ask? Well, it means that you should be looking for the action thread to start up Tomorrow evening :grin:


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## deathbringer (Feb 19, 2009)

Character Name: Dulai

Age: 13

Appearance: Baby faced with smooth olive skin, their is a distinct innocent beauty to his features that seem to be on the verge of loosing the rounded innocence that youth can bring. A small button nose and long raven locks frame warm soulful amber eyes like the leaves of autumn . The body underneath is hard and taught with lean muscle from years of work with spear sword and bow though he stands tall for his age, caught in the middle of a growth spurt, seeming to be distinctly out of proportion with those young innocent features

Personality: Dulai is a puppy in nature, his whole essence a blend of childish playfulness and untapped potential underlined by a feral protective instinct and unwavering loyalty. Each day is new and his ambitions stretch no further than the here and now, content to take life as it comes and thus his dreams are currently filled with surviving the trials and becoming one of the white scars. However the moment has its price and the concept of failure is a tremendous fear for he has no second plan, his strand upon the wheel of fate would be cut loose, his life suddenly cast adrift, listless and without meaning.

Dulai attempts to portray himself as fearless, however this is most definitely not the case for it is fear of failure and fear of death that have driven him through life. It is the kill or be killed attitude that he thrives on, that makes him dream of battle and revel in slaughter, the singular focus it gives him meaning it holds him, lingering in his dreams like the touch of a lover

Personal Quirk- is very mistrustful of running water, due to an event in his early years, a flash flood, due to an early spring thaw whilst camping under a mountain nearly killed him, his survival merely due to his fathers quick wits. Thus running water stirs the feeling of gradually suffocating and deep unease

Character Background:The Arkai tribe are small nomadic and wandering, unwilling to settle in one place, they live under the guise of the sun eagle, a mythical creature of the plane rarely spotted yet often discussed in tall tales and distant legends.They hunt sparingly, not a part of their kill wasted or spared, their intent to disturb the natural order of the plains as little as possible. Thus they rarely fight with other humans as they have no need for their meat, nor for the lands they defend preferring to roam the plains at their leisure. It has led to rumour amongst the other tribes that the Arkai are at one with nature, noted for their exceptional skill with horses and their nack for survival. 

Truly born in the saddle, Dulai has been riding since he could sit up straight, his path to acceptance as a horseman of the Arkai coming as traditional for his tribe at the age of 6 through his ability to survive and track. As with all children he was abandoned alone in the middle of the steppes without food or water, he was forced to procure a horse, than travel following the tracks of his clan, to find and catch them. Many die for the clan does not slow, though the anxious mothers may scream and beg to turn back, they are forced to ride on. Thus he came upon the camp of his clan, tired and weary after three days hard riding, mounted upon the back of Kelun. Thus his acceptance was achieved to ride amongst the men.

Though occasionally attacked by beasts, often slain with arrows by the keen eyed Arkai it was nor until the age of 12 that Dulai truly experienced combat, his tribe wandering across lands occupied by another they were set upon, chased by men bearing spears and bows. Though they fled, they were pursued relentlessly till they turned arrows cutting through the front ranks til they turned to shield and spear, a great battle atop the plains.

It was their that Dulai truly felt fear, the fear of death that parlaysed him even as he charged spear limp in his hand. Yet the paralysis twisted and morphed, turning into razor sharp clarity the purest adrenal response, kill or be killed. Thus he killed, flint tip lancing through skin, shattering bones and cartiledge. He returned with the men of his tribe, yet unlike them his mind was not stained with guilt, eyes lowered in sorrow and shame. His blood was up, the bloody slaughter an exquisite rush of adrenaline to him, the blood stains the mark of a warrior upon his palms.

Thus with the call of the trials he left his tribe, discouraged by his father, scalded by his mother, he rode away to follow a new path, a path that he had seen but once yet haunted his dreams.

Weapons:
a short hunting spear, 1.5 meters in length, hardened wood shaft with a flint tip
a dagger with a horn handle and a flint blade
a Mongolian style horse-bow and quiver of 6 bone tipped arrows 

Other: Kelun. A strong white mare raised and broken by Dulai at the age of 6, he is (illadvisedly) highly attatched to her having broken her himself after several attempts and having riden her whether it be merely across the plains or out hunting for many years. She is her pride and joy, one of the wild horses of the Steppes plains and a testament to the skill with horses so important to his tribe.


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## Euphrati (May 24, 2009)

Dark Angel and Deathbringer- Both Subutai and Dulai are accepted.

CattleBruiser- I have pm'ed you regarding my concerns with Chang-Jian, at the moment he is not accepted as-is... however that does not mean he is rejected either. Forgive me for the delay in this, I had sworn that I pm'ed you earlier. Get those edits done and I'll toss him into the mix of the action thread (which should go up this evening).


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## Euphrati (May 24, 2009)

Double postng!

Action thread is live now.

To those of you that submited characters for the possible Stormseer spot- yes, I have decided who will be getting it.... but i've also decided to keep the name to myself and let the player chosen find out through the course of the rp as their character's abilities start to come to the fore as to minimize possible ooc information as well as to make it more of a true role-playing experiance.

:grin:


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## Serpion5 (Mar 19, 2010)

Ooh! Mysterious. :shok:


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## Lord of the Night (Nov 18, 2009)

Dunno if there's any room left but this sounds awesome. I don't know what a good White Scar name is so i've decided to go with the closest thing I know of.


*Character Name:* Drogo

*Age:* 16 summers old.

*Appearance:* Drogo is tall by Chogoris standards and is imposing, rippling with muscle, even for a boy of sixteen summers. He stands at roughly 6ft and wears his dark black hair in a long braid hung with bronze rings, it reaches the small of his back as he has never cut his hair once. He is clean shaven and does not have any facial hair, this is by preference; his eyes are amethyst in colour. Drogo has tanned skin from Chogoris's sun and wears simple horse-hide slacks and a leather belt. He disdains wearing upper clothing. As Drogo comes from the Dothkhal Tribe he wears khol around his eyes, the khol is dark green and cover underneath his eyes and his eyelids.

Drogo also bears a tattoo on the right side of his chest. It depicts a flaming horse in red and brown orbiting a star in white and blue, the traditional tattoo of his tribe and the symbol of their prowess as horse-riders.

*Personality:* Drogo is a fierce yet cautious individual. He disdains those who speak needlessly about matters of little import and as such when he does speak, it is something he considers important, though he does take into account the group and its well-being. He enjoys fighting to no end, especially amongst his brethren for sport.

*Character's Nature:* Drogo believes strongly in brotherhood and the ties of bonds. He would do almost anything for a brother in need and would raise his blade to defend a brother, provided that said brother has proven his worth. He is unforgiving of betrayal or treachery in any shape or form, and does not believe in forgiveness for such an act. He feels that had he been a better leader he could have won a real victory against the Konthal tribe rather than a pyrrhic victory. As such he has vowed to himself that such a thing will never happen again when he next achieves a command.

*Character's Demeanor:* Drogo is not afraid to admit he does not know something. Once he admits this he will ruthlessly pursue knowledge and training of said subject until he has mastered it. As with horse-riding, archery, survival and tracking, he has become an adept of these arts through a single-minded devotion to bettering himself. When he wishes to make a point Drogo will make a point, and if he must be loud and noticeable to do it then he will do it. He disdains showoffs that make themselves noticed for no other point than simply being noticed, when Drogo makes himself noticed it is for a reason that actually matters. He will not give up, even in the face of insurmountable odds, and does not accept failure from himself or those around him.

*Personal Quirk:* Drogo has two quirks that few notice, at first. First he has excellent hearing, enough that when focusing he can hear whispers and noises that even fellow Sons of Chogoris would not notice. His second quirk is that when he is made sufficiently angry he will bear some of his teeth and hiss gently, this is the prelude to an explosive burst of anger.

*Character Background:* Drogo was born into the Dothkhal tribe on the southern steppes of Chogoris. Son of the tribal leader Bharbo it was expected that Drogo would become tribal leader upon his father's death. Drogo knew these expectations and strived to meet them, learning the art of horse-riding, horseback archery and wilderness tracking. Eventually he was one of the tribe's most promising youth, and one of the tallest in the entire tribe.

It was when the Dothkhal tribe went to war with the Konthal tribe that Drogo's life changed forever. Leading a massed charge of riders into the enemy tribesmen Drogo's father Bharbo was killed in the ambush set by Konthal archers. Raging at the loss of his father, and at only thirteen summers old, Drogo lead the counter-attack, a brutal close-quarters battle that left only one survivor. Drogo himself. Pulling himself from the carnage Drogo realised that he was the sole survivor of his warriors. Too ashamed to return to his tribe Drogo wandered the Stepps for three years, surviving on his skills and honing himself for the future. Near the end of the third year, just before his sixteenth summer, Drogo found himself on the path of the Khum Karta mountains, towards the White Scars. Realising that it was the time for the Trial, Drogo felt he had been coming here just for this purpose.

*Weapons:* Hunting spear, a curved iron dagger with an wood hilt, a Mongolian style horse-bow and quiver of 6 arrows,

*Other:* Drogo's horse is a fine red stallion named Fyre.


LotN


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## Euphrati (May 24, 2009)

Lord of the Night said:


> *Character Name:* Drogo
> 
> *Age:* 16 summers old.


Name/age are acceptable.



Lord of the Night said:


> *Appearance:* Drogo is tall and imposing, even for a boy of sixteen summers. He stands at roughly 7ft and wears his dark black hair in a long braid hung with bronze rings, it reaches the small of his back as he has never cut his hair once. His beard is still growing in but already covers his chin; his eyes are storm-cloud grey. Drogo has tanned skin from Chogoris's sun and wears simple horse hide slacks and a leather belt. He disdains wearing upper clothing. As Drogo comes from the Dothkhal Tribe he wears a face-paint around his eyes, they are in dark green and cover underneath his eyes and his eyelids. (Think like the mascara-like product that ancient Egyptians used.)
> 
> Drogo also bears a tattoo. It depicts a flaming horse in red and brown orbiting a star in white and blue, the traditional tattoo of his tribe and the symbol of their prowess as horse-riders.


_Absolutely _no on the height. Really... ~7ft? From a culture/racial background that is known to be on the short side- I will accept _nothing _over 6ft and, as I stated before to another player- tall as an aspirant does not mean epically tall as an Astartes.



Euphrati said:


> Facial hair for the characters will only be pre-pubescent dustings at best- no Fu Manchu's.


He might like to *think* the few scraggily hairs on his chin look like a beard... but they are far from covering his chin in any way.

The khol-like warpaint is fine... but he does not have access to much of it and it will be hard to maintain while in certain instances.

So he has a tattoo, that is fine- where is it?





Lord of the Night said:


> *Personality:* Drogo is a fierce yet cautious individual. He disdains those who speak needlessly about matters of little import and as such when he does speak, it is something he considers important. He enjoys fighting to no end, especially amongst his brethren for sport.
> 
> *Character's Nature:* Drogo believes strongly in brotherhood and the ties of bonds. He would do almost anything for a brother in need and would raise his blade to defend a brother, provided that said brother has proven his worth. He is unforgiving of betrayal or treachery in any shape or form, and does not believe in forgiveness for such an act.


These are fine- although remember that just because Drogo believes that something is important to him doesn't mean that it is to everyone else.



Lord of the Night said:


> *Character's Demeanor:* Drogo is not afraid to admit he does not know something. Once he admits this he will ruthlessly pursue knowledge and training of said subject until he has mastered it. As with horse-riding, archery and tracking, he has mastered these arts through a single-minded devotion to bettering himself. When he wishes to make a point Drogo will make a point, and if he must be loud and noticeable to do it then he will do it. He disdains showoffs that make themselves noticed for no other point than simply being noticed, when Drogo makes himself noticed it is for a reason that actually matters.
> 
> *Personal Quirk:* Drogo has two quirks that few notice, at first. First he has excellent hearing, enough that when focusing he can hear whispers and noises that even fellow Sons of Chogoris would not notice. His second quirk is that when he is made sufficiently angry he will bear some of his teeth and hiss gently, this is the prelude to an explosive burst of anger.


Ok, Demeanor is for how he presents himself to the world ie- the kid that *acts* the part of the bully because that is what he thinks everyone _wants _of him but really is kindhearted at his core. Demeanor is basically the 'personality mask' that everyone wears when in public. I'm also less inclined to accept anything that states a character is a 'master' at a skill. They might be good at it, more so that others of their age group, but mastery is something above and beyond the fact. There is always more to learn on any subjectmater.

Now, qith the first quirk- I have no problem at all with his hearing being keen... and I assure you that I will indeed utalize such a character faccet as a gm, but understand that what you can/cannot hear is at my discression.



Lord of the Night said:


> *Character Background:* Drogo was born into the Dothkhal tribe on the southern steppes of Chogoris. Son of the tribal leader Bharbo it was expected that Drogo would become tribal leader upon his father's death. Drogo knew these expectations and strived to meet them, learning the art of horse-riding, horseback archery and wilderness tracking. Eventually he was one of the tribe's most promising youth, and one of the tallest in the entire tribe.
> 
> It was when the Dothkhal tribe went to war with the Konthal tribe that Drogo's life changed forever. Leading a massed charge of riders into the tribe Drogo's father Bharbo was killed in the ambush set by Konthal archers. Raging at the loss of his father Drogo lead the counter-attack, a brutal close-quarters battle that left only one survivor. Drogo himself. Pulling himself from the carnage Drogo realised another figure was there besides him, a giant clad in armour of white metal and wearing the fur of a mighty sabre-cat around his shoulders. This was a mighty warrior like no other, and though neither spoke a word each knew what the other would have said. Drogo and the Stormseer left the slaughter behind and set on foot towards the future, and Drogo's Trials.


His background is fine until the point I highlighted- this isn't Fenris, the Stormseers don't actually go out and 'pick' from the tribes themselves so to say. The Trials are more akin to a contest of sorts held every 10 years- young warriors leave their homes and come to the Trials on their own accord. Drogo will have had no interaction with a Stormseer before placing his name into the pool of aspirants in the Trials themselves- only two characters out of the bunch were ok'ed brief interaction with Astartes and there is a background/storyline reason for that.



Lord of the Night said:


> *Weapons:* Hunting spear, a curved dagger with an iron hilt, a Mongolian style horse-bow and quiver of 6 arrows,
> 
> *Other:* Drogo's horse is a fine red stallion named Fyre.





Euphrati said:


> _Weapons: ALL characters will start out with weapons given to you for the purpose of the trials- a short hunting spear (1.5 meters in length, hardened wood shaft with a napped flint or iron tip), a dagger (horn or wood hilt with napped flint or simple iron blade), a Mongolian style horse-bow and quiver of 6 arrows (short and heavily re-curved bow designed to be fired from horseback or in close-quarters ambush settings. The arrows are bone or iron tipped and barbed to stick in their target's flesh). _


Slight correction to the weapons. His horse is fine.


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## Lord of the Night (Nov 18, 2009)

Euphrati said:


> _Absolutely _no on the height. Really... ~7ft? From a culture/racial background that is known to be on the short side- I will accept _nothing _over 6ft and, as I stated before to another player- tall as an aspirant does not mean epically tall as an Astartes.


Genetically short? Huh didn't know that. Only source knowledge I have on White Scars comes from _The Hunt for Voldorius_.




Euphrati said:


> He might like to *think* the few scraggily hairs on his chin look like a beard... but they are far from covering his chin in any way.
> 
> The khol-like warpaint is fine... but he does not have access to much of it and it will be hard to maintain while in certain instances.
> 
> So he has a tattoo, that is fine- where is it?


Altered.

Alright then that's fine.

My bad. I'll add that.




Euphrati said:


> These are fine- although remember that just because Drogo believes that something is important to him doesn't mean that it is to everyone else.


Of course but he does try to judge what is best for the group as well.



Euphrati said:


> Ok, Demeanor is for how he presents himself to the world ie- the kid that *acts* the part of the bully because that is what he thinks everyone _wants _of him but really is kindhearted at his core. Demeanor is basically the 'personality mask' that everyone wears when in public. I'm also less inclined to accept anything that states a character is a 'master' at a skill. They might be good at it, more so that others of their age group, but mastery is something above and beyond the fact. There is always more to learn on any subjectmater.
> 
> Now, with the first quirk- I have no problem at all with his hearing being keen... and I assure you that I will indeed utalize such a character faccet as a gm, but understand that what you can/cannot hear is at my discression.


What i'm trying to get across in it is that Drogo's demeanor is the guy who can solve the problem. He's the guy who won't give up no matter how hard it gets, who will apply himself to something rigorously until he has mastered it and who won't accept failure from himself or others.

Alrighty.



Euphrati said:


> His background is fine until the point I highlighted- this isn't Fenris, the Stormseers don't actually go out and 'pick' from the tribes themselves so to say. The Trials are more akin to a contest of sorts held every 10 years- young warriors leave their homes and come to the Trials on their own accord. Drogo will have had no interaction with a Stormseer before placing his name into the pool of aspirants in the Trials themselves- only two characters out of the bunch were ok'ed brief interaction with Astartes and there is a background/storyline reason for that.


Ah I see. Again source knowledge on White Scars is not as good as others. Will make alteration.




Euphrati said:


> Slight correction to the weapons. His horse is fine.


Alrighty.

Edits made as per your requests Euphrati.


LotN


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## Euphrati (May 24, 2009)

Lord of the Night said:


> Genetically short? Huh didn't know that. Only source knowledge I have on White Scars comes from _The Hunt for Voldorius_.


I won't be pulling much if anything from that book- I found it to be one of the more lacking Battle novels so far. The White Scars are Mongollian/ancient chinese dynasty in feel/background. Hot tempered and deadly but lacking on the vertical aspect of things. That being said-


Euphrati said:


> _Absolutely _no on the height. Really... ~7ft? From a culture/racial background that is known to be on the short side- I will accept _nothing _over 6ft and, as I stated before to another player- tall as an aspirant does not mean epically tall as an Astartes.


Nothing over 6ft means just that- not 6.3 or 6.5 etc. I hate to be an arse about this but I can't be much clearer than that. 



Lord of the Night said:


> What i'm trying to get across in it is that Drogo's demeanor is the guy who can solve the problem. He's the guy who won't give up no matter how hard it gets, who will apply himself to something rigorously until he has mastered it and who won't accept failure from himself or others.


That is Nature- demeanor would be that he would NOT admit that he was wrong because he believes that it would make him look weaker in the eyes of those around him. It is a facade, a 'mask'- the really smart girl *acting* like an idiot dumb blonde because she _believes _that men don't like smart girls.


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## Euphrati (May 24, 2009)

CattleBruiser with the wary Chang-Jian: Thank you for reworking the aspects I requested of you... you are now Accepted and will be added into the action thread.

You will note, however- I did made two edits to your character. The first is to the facial scar, it has been moved to his neck for reasons dealing with storyline. The second is I broke down your personality into the needed nature/demeanor aspects and for easier read-ability.





CattleBruiser said:


> *Name*:Chang-Jian
> 
> *Age*: 16
> 
> ...


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## Lord of the Night (Nov 18, 2009)

Euphrati said:


> I won't be pulling much if anything from that book- I found it to be one of the more lacking Battle novels so far. The White Scars are Mongollian/ancient chinese dynasty in feel/background. Hot tempered and deadly but lacking on the vertical aspect of things. That being said-
> 
> Nothing over 6ft means just that- not 6.3 or 6.5 etc. I hate to be an arse about this but I can't be much clearer than that.
> 
> That is Nature- demeanor would be that he would NOT admit that he was wrong because he believes that it would make him look weaker in the eyes of those around him. It is a facade, a 'mask'- the really smart girl *acting* like an idiot dumb blonde because she _believes _that men don't like smart girls.


Fair enough.

My bad I missed that part. Changed it to roughly 6ft tall.

That is what I mean. He wants people to believe that about him so he can believe it about himself, he feels guilt for surviving the massacre of his tribe's warriors and that had he been a better commander they would have lived. So he acts confident and like he can solve the problem, because he wants others to think that he can. And then just maybe he can do it after all.


LotN


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## Euphrati (May 24, 2009)

Lord of the Night with the unforgiving Drogo: Accepted

I will add him to the action thread in a moment.





Lord of the Night said:


> *Character Name:* Drogo
> 
> *Age:* 16 summers old.
> 
> ...



Ok, that puts the group at 12 players- From this point I will still accept new characters in the recruitment thread however depending on the activity in the action thread the new character may or may not be introduced into the mix right away.


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## unxpekted22 (Apr 7, 2009)

Just noticed the vast number of typos in my character sheet. It has been edited for an easier read.


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## Euphrati (May 24, 2009)

Right now I am waiting on a post from Amoeba Bait. If I do not hear back from him by ~10pm est I will push ahead with the update.


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## Midge913 (Oct 21, 2010)

Euphrati said:


> Right now I am waiting on a post from Amoeba Bait. If I do not hear back from him by ~10pm est I will push ahead with the update.


Looking forward to it!


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## dark angel (Jun 11, 2008)

Right, then, folks - I’d like to apologise about my lackluster posts. I’ve been going through some trouble these last few weeks, and it’s been ruling my life; impairing both my attention span and writing capabilities. 

Been wrangling with Subutai for a day or so, now, and he’s a tough nut to crack - Especially after being in a ‘I’m a Marine, I can do anything,’ phase, to dropping down and being a ickle kid!  

The problem, as far as I am concerned, is now largely dealt with now - On the recovering side of it, at the very least - So, with hope, my posts will start to improve in both length and quality.


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## CommissarHorn (Apr 14, 2008)

Hey uh, sorry about the lateness. I should have posted a little while ago. I’m not too fussed about being stuck into the reserves, so don’t worry too much about shoving me into the action right away. Although I would love to start as soon as possible.
Cheers.

Character Name: Gadil-Nuur
Age: 16
Appearance: Gadil-Nuur is what the native, feral nomadic tribes of Chogoris call ‘Shar’; He is light haired, with eyes coloured a mossy green and fairly light skin, but by no means pale. Standing at a height on average with his peers, the dishevelled youth appears to be fairly slovenly in his appearance and both immethodical and patternless in his thought. His hair, a very light brown, hangs long behind his neck, tied into a knot with some string. A face bearing slanting, lazy eyelids, long nose and downturned mouth, it isn’t difficult to mistake Gadil-Nuur for someone that had just woken from a long slumber, be it any time of the day. His preference of clothing consists of light weighted and free flowing dress, be it unkept and creased. Much of the clothes he wears covers most of his body, except for his sleeves, which are almost permanently rolled up, as it covers up the majority of his scars, which there are a few, most of which are slashes across his arms and legs. The most notable scar though, is a giant ragged scar, as if a long tear, occupying his chest and upper stomach. Besides his sloven appearance, Gadil-Nuur is not dirty, having been taught the benefits of hygiene. If anything, he appears like a person recently washed but not combed and ironed. 

Personality: Gadil-Nuur is cheerful, bright and lazy. That is of course how he acts. Preferring to avoid unnecessary violence and death brought upon by hate or vengeance, Gadil loves nothing more than to happily enter clobbering competitions as long as the other contests and he can have a drink afterwards. 
Cheerfully talkative and childish, seeing those around him in good spirits is joy to Gadil, bringing out jokes, songs and words of inspiration from him regularly. 

Quick to trust others and equally reliable, Gadil-Nuur has more faith in the allies around him than most of them might deserve. He is one who lives by the motto; “It is better to trust a traitor than betray a friend” and believes in the potential his friends possess, even if they themselves aren’t aware of it. Cheerful and mutable, Gadil-Nuur’s personality is one of childish humour, acceptance and unbound emotion yet at the same time he is sternly mature, merciless to his enemies and stoically bound to his oaths. Such contradictions in his character appear unpredictable and make it hard for others to read him. 

Those from his family and tribe, and those who know him well could in no way title his Joyous and carefree attitude as a façade intended to cover his amazing maturity and sobriety of thought, because in all respects his immature behaviour and cavalier attitude are major parts of his own personality in themselves.



Character's Nature: Far from Naïve, Gadil-Nuur has seen a lot of people suffer and accepts it as a part of life. He understands the need for sacrifices as people strive to serve their oaths, Khan and tribe, as well as examples to strive for and the need to protect their own. Strength and power he sees are necessary to keep order and unity but not without a large degree of responsibility, love and pride. A Khan or leader who does not love his people, love his cause and take his position as a burden he must carry, does not deserve to lead. Gadil-Nuur loves his people, loves his humanity and is prepared to become one of those heroic examples, told to him his whole life by the elders, which inspire strength and the pride of those belonging to the beautiful, rocky Chogoris

Character's Demeanor: Immature, lazy, nonchalant and joyous, Gadil-Nuur appears to be one without problems; light-hearted and amused by whatever he can amuse himself (as well as others) with. His stoic belief in a higher being, mixed with a nonchalant carefree attitude is a concoction which borders on the fearless. Too mature to be a daredevil, that doesn’t stop him from occasionally taking risks that could endanger his life. Not exactly clumsy, but not graceful either, Gadil-Nuur’s demeanour is hard to read, to the point of being unpredictable. Appearing to be mostly nonchalant and cheerful even during confronting situations, and yet retaining a deadly seriousness behind his eyes, his cheerfulness appears to be a façade by those who know him. Those that know him well though, know that there is no façade, and that it is an actual part of his personality. This only leads to more questions about him.

Personal Quirk: Incorrigibly lazy in most aspects, but prepared to fight the stars themselves when on the defence of his allies and land.

Character Background: 
Born of the Chogoris mountain tribe Oitara, Gadil-Nuur had inherited his tribe’s ‘Shar’ genes, as all of them were light haired, and green/blue eyed. On rare occasions, some of them were even blonde, such as their Shargal Khan. The steppe faring tribe was fairly large, having previously been three seperate tribes, preferring to share their migratory paths and settling areas and unite rather than fight for them. 

Growing up within a thriving community of hunters and story tellers, Gadil-Nuur was constantly taught the values of being a warrior and support for his tribe. He learned of course, but rather preferred to sneak off and doze beneath the sky, atop his horse Zuud-Haranhui the Dark Dream. For he was the darkest ebony horse he had ever seen.


Too lazy to attend his ‘warrior’ lessons but much too attentive to become one of the tribal delinquents, he loved to listen to the Elders, old as they were, telling of the stars and the many war gods that rode steeds of steel and protected their world, their grasslands and the sacred steppes. The heroic examples of brave and fearless warriors that fought and defeated countless monsters atop the mountains and of the worm like creatures that plagued them. He was also taught the meaning of negotiation and unity between people, how together they could fight anything and overcome grief. 

His generation, part of those tested every decade before the best could be sent to the ‘High’ Mountain, were being prepared for their trials. In all certainty and with passionate fervour, Gadil-Nuur was going to… ignore the tests and stay behind. His concern for the protection of his tribe meant he was going be one of the many who stayed behind and kept things going. And so, while most of his tribe’s youth ventured off into the wilderness to face their first Grass-Cat, Gadil-Nuur stayed behind, dozing atop his horse and laughing off the girl’s jeers.

It was after several days that a few of the best had returned, either dead tired or severly wounded. What they were attempting to hunt was more than just an average Grass-Cat, but the others had continued the hunt anyway. Attempting to spur a search party, Gadil-Nuur was refused as it would interfere with the sacred trials. “To hell with your bloody trials!” Gadil was furious. Lives were at stake and not some damn special trial would stand in his way. Setting off, alone at first, the youth was suddenly joined by a small group of his tribe’s hunters who were worried by his interfering and rode to keep him in check, enraged as he was.

Arriving just over a hill did the party finally see what had gone wrong. Surrounded but by not means outmatched, was one of the rare and great Sabre-Lions. And if anything, it was surrounded by the bleeding, twitching bodies of several youths unlucky to have been caught by its massive teeth and razor sharp claws. The party of hunters recoiled from the massive beast, daring not to reveal themselves. Only Gadil-Nuur alone continued riding towards the battle, if you could call it a battle, his features and expression unchanged and very much stern. "Gadil!" Called the hunters. "Where are you going? We must warn the others and gather more hunters, there are but a few of us!"
Without stopping a beat he called back. "And for every second passing, there are even fewer of my friends!" 

Suddenly inspired by the youth's self sacrifice, the hunters gathered their bows and took aim on the wild beast. "What if we hit our own?" A worried hunter asked.
"Then they will perish by the beast all the same." Came a reply. And so, as Gadil-Nuur rode headlong into the beast's path, did the small party of hunters unleash whatever arrows they had, with the most accuracy they could muster. 

The battle did not last long as many arrows rained down upon the beast, which was occupied with trying to beat down the stubborn youth, finally felling it. Gadil had stood up against the Saber-Lion, keeping it away from the hunters as they shot it with their bows. Only after the Lion had dropped to the ground and Gadil had checked, applied aid to and comforted his friends with a witty remark on the situation did he finally fall unconscious. The hunters and surviving youth carried him back to the camp and the healers nurtured his damaged body, applying their tribe's medicinal herbs onto the Saber's claw wounds and pulling out several arrows from his back and arms. 

Impressed by his feat, Gadil-Nuur was recommended by the Elders as one who had passed the trials. The descision was highly supported by the hunters and youths that witnessed Gadil's determination to protect his own, and his inspiring act of self-sacrifice. But upon waking and having been told of the descision about his future, Gadil did not accept it at first, preffering to stay behind and furthur protect the village. It was the Shargal Khan though, who grasped Gadil-Nuur by the shoulders and explained to him the importance of becoming a greater warrior in the service of the stormseers. For as a champion of the chosen, he would protect not only the tribe, but the steppes and mountains he loved so much, and every other Chogorisian living beside them. Gadil suddenly saw the possibilities of his future, now having a better means to serve the god who looked over them from the sky, and protect more of his people. And so it was done. Gadil-Nuur, along with the other two boys from his tribe (It was 3 combined tribes, so 3 boys were sent out) were sent out to the ‘High’ Mountain, to answer the Stormseer call.

Though he says otherwise himself, the village and his friends accompaning him proudly boast that Gadil-Nuur from the clan/tribe Oitara had stood up against and felled a Sabre-Lion, alone and unafraid. If asked about the remarkble feat, Gadil laughs and denies having slayed the beast. "Haha, I was merely in the way. Most of the fighting was done by the village hunters as they grappled with the beast, killing it with their accurate shooting and precise spear thrusts. My part? I just enjoyed watching it, haha."

Weapons: Short hunting spear with an Iron tip, a simple iron blade with wooden hilt, Horse-bow and quiver of 6 iron arrows.
Other: Gadil-Nuur’s slender Black horse Zuud-Haranhui the Dark Dream.


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## Euphrati (May 24, 2009)

Ok, first off- no mare. Stallions as mounts only, period. You are warriors, not women. I allowed a single mare into the group but that is all that I will allow (and I warned Deathbringer that he might rue his choice in time...).

Secondly, I'm going to need you to basically start over on your background. No worm-creatures or xenos of any type. Mundane encounters only (no 'special' trial caves that have psy-echoes)- Grass-cat hunts, raids of rival tribes, the rare greater sabre-lion kill, etc.

I don't overly mind the 'lazy' aspect of your character, but realize that every warrior in the trials is there by their own skills and no one will carry Gadil-Nuur's weight for him. Up until only two dawns ago you were tested as a solo warrior, the groups drawn out of the youths remaining from those 200 that you started beside. You would not be here if you sat on your arse at any point in the past month of hard testing by the Stormseers.


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## Euphrati (May 24, 2009)

CommissarHorn with the apathetic Gadil-Nuur- Accepted





CommissarHorn said:


> Character Name: Gadil-Nuur
> Age: 16
> Appearance: Gadil-Nuur is what the native, feral nomadic tribes of Chogoris call ‘Shar’; He is light haired, with eyes coloured a mossy green and fairly light skin, but by no means pale. Standing at a height on average with his peers, the dishevelled youth appears to be fairly slovenly in his appearance and both immethodical and patternless in his thought. His hair, a very light brown, hangs long behind his neck, tied into a knot with some string. A face bearing slanting, lazy eyelids, long nose and downturned mouth, it isn’t difficult to mistake Gadil-Nuur for someone that had just woken from a long slumber, be it any time of the day. His preference of clothing consists of light weighted and free flowing dress, be it unkept and creased. Much of the clothes he wears covers most of his body, except for his sleeves, which are almost permanently rolled up, as it covers up the majority of his scars, which there are a few, most of which are slashes across his arms and legs. The most notable scar though, is a giant ragged scar, as if a long tear, occupying his chest and upper stomach. Besides his sloven appearance, Gadil-Nuur is not dirty, having been taught the benefits of hygiene. If anything, he appears like a person recently washed but not combed and ironed.
> 
> ...



You may post as if Gadil-Nuur has been there the entire time- you are at the fire-circle containing Bidziil, Chang-Jian, Dalar, Cheng, Daaruk, and Dulai.


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## CommissarHorn (Apr 14, 2008)

Ok awesome, though I wouldn't exactly call him apathetic.


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## Midge913 (Oct 21, 2010)

Sorry for the delay in my post. I will be getting it up on Monday.


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## Euphrati (May 24, 2009)

Still waiting on a few to push forward with the next update. If you haven't posted (Dark Angel, Rems, Horn, Lord of the Night) I'd advise doing so by the end of the week if at all possible.

Also, I wanted to touch on another subject in regards to posting- it is quite rude to see players who 'can't find the time' to post in one rp yet *can *find the time to join another rp and post in it.


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## dark angel (Jun 11, 2008)

Been working on Subutai for several days, he's being a tough nut to crack, though. 

I'll have it up in -24 hours.


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## Midge913 (Oct 21, 2010)

Euphrati said:


> Also, I wanted to touch on another subject in regards to posting- it is quite rude to see players who 'can't find the time' to post in one rp yet *can *find the time to join another rp and post in it.


Well said...


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## unxpekted22 (Apr 7, 2009)

Euphrati said:


> Also, I wanted to touch on another subject in regards to posting- it is quite rude to see players who 'can't find the time' to post in one rp yet *can *find the time to join another rp and post in it.


_Isn't it!? _

*Didnt need to take up that space here any longer.


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## Santaire (Feb 13, 2011)

If you were thinking about me at all when you posted that Euphrati I wouldn't blame you. I've been getting homework and, I have to say it, Skyrim so that I start to forget and then try to get a post up and it ends up being useless because I rushed it


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## CommissarHorn (Apr 14, 2008)

Sorry I haven't been able to post. I'm really letting the team down and I'll attempt to write up something within the day. Hopefully I can get access to the internet later today.

I've been in the hospital this past month and haven't really had a chance to finish my post, as well as work which hasn't stopped so far.

Thanks, and I apologise.


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## Euphrati (May 24, 2009)

My statement wasn't aimed at any individual, it was more of a general expression of vexation.

I share your frustrations unxp- I recall when if we didn't get an update in the Claw once a week/week and a half I was bugging Reever every hour when it would be up. Now... we might see one a month.

Though I somewhat disagree with you on the subject of the higher standards causing longer waits. I will fully admit to pressing others to seek higher standards in their posting as well as the concept of dual-posting with in-character conversations being combined into a single post instead of multitude of mini posts. The side effect seems to be that most of the rp's have started to require longer, more detailed posts from players- though ten sentences is hardly novella length!

I have noticed gm's lengthening their updates as a result; which in and of itself isn't necessarily a bad thing, however it can also lead to too much information being given/covered in an update and causing players to feel either overwhelmed or to miss/skip key points that were buried within the avalanche of information. Now, don't get me wrong- there is nothing more disappointing as a player to work on a ~4 page post in word only to have the gm either ignore the post or toss up a half-arsed update of less than half a page, but there is also something to be said for the gm giving too much for a player to reasonably cover in the 'minimum' requirement.

There is a balance that must be struck- but in saying that there is also a loyalty and responsibility on _*Both *_the players and the gm's part in any given rp. The players have to put forth the effort to actually post more than once a month (I mean is that too much to ask really?) and the gm's to balance out keeping to storyline moving forward without pressing a massive wall of text/scenes onto the players that causes them to **have** to keep extending their posts to cover all of the information present.


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## dark angel (Jun 11, 2008)

Apologies for the late and lacking post. It should have been up two weeks ago, but it's always busy around here in January; with things returning to normal and whatnot. 

Subutai's a different character to what I'm used to, I'm struggling to get into his mindset.


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## Euphrati (May 24, 2009)

I just wanted to apologize for the lack of an update, the month has been a bit hectic with my husband home (he is only home 3 months out of the year and this happened to be one of them). I'm working on the update so expect it in the next 24 - 48 hopefully.


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## Midge913 (Oct 21, 2010)

Euphrati said:


> I just wanted to apologize for the lack of an update, the month has been a bit hectic with my husband home (he is only home 3 months out of the year and this happened to be one of them). I'm working on the update so expect it in the next 24 - 48 hopefully.


No problem. Glad to see you guys got some time together.


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## Serpion5 (Mar 19, 2010)

And we roll again.


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## unxpekted22 (Apr 7, 2009)

Oh hey you're a mod now, good stuff Serpion!


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## Serpion5 (Mar 19, 2010)

What? Am I? Holy crap... :shok: 

:laugh: Yea, four new mods were appointed a week ago or something. 

Thank you. :victory:


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