"It is the 41st Millennium. For more than a hundred centuries the Emperor of Mankind has sat immobile on the Golden Throne of Earth. He is the master of mankind by the will of the gods and master of a million worlds by the might of his inexhaustible armies. He is a rotting carcass writhing invisibly with power from the Dark Age of Technology. He is the Carrion Lord of the vast Imperium of Man for whom a thousand souls are sacrificed every day so that he may never truly die.Yet even in his deathless state, the Emperor continues his eternal vigilance. Mighty battlefleets cross the daemon-infested miasma of the Warp, the only route between distant stars, their way lit by the Astronomican, the psychic manifestation of the Emperor's will. Vast armies give battle in His name on uncounted worlds. Greatest amongst his soldiers are the Adeptus Astartes, the Space Marines, bio-engineered super-warriors. Their comrades in arms are legion: the Imperial Guard and countless planetary defence forces, the ever-vigilant Inquisition and the tech-priests of the Adeptus Mechanicus to name only a few. But for all their multitudes, they are barely enough to hold off the ever-present threat to humanity from aliens, heretics, mutants -- and far, far worse. To be a man in such times is to be one amongst untold billions. It is to live in the cruelest and most bloody regime imaginable. These are the tales of those times. Forget the power of technology and science, for so much has been forgotten, never to be relearned. Forget the promise of progress and understanding, for in the grim dark future there is only war. There is no peace amongst the stars, only an eternity of carnage and slaughter, and the laughter of thirsting gods."
Spoiler for Servants of the Chaos Gods:
Chaos, also known to its servants as the Primordial Truth or the Primordial Anihilator, and to the Imperium of Man as the Archenemy, is the universal and usually malign spiritual force embodied by the malevolent intelligent entities comprised of psychic energy that live in the Warp. Chaos is the equal and opposite of Order. The entities who embody Chaos are mostly daemons, but the term also encompasses those mortals who have thrown in their lot with Chaos, ranging from simple peasants and/or manufactorum labourers who serve as Chaos Cultists, to Traitor Imperial Guardsmen, planetary militia, Imperial nobles, Planetary Governors, and even the mighty Chaos Space Marines and Traitor Titan Legions of the Dark Mechanicus.
The gods care nothing for their followers or their machinations, granting them unimaginable power or withdrawing it from them just as quickly as their fickle whims decree. Mortals are mere playthings to them, to be used and cast aside at will, at best the objects of momentary fascination. Perhaps they know that once the process of a soul’s corruption has begun it becomes inevitable, and that the taint of Chaos will bring living souls to the gods whether they declare themselves devout or not. It is more likely the Ruinous Powers are simply unaware of the mass of mortality in any conscious sense because their state of existence and motivations are too vast and alien to comprehend. The Gods of Chaos are such remote and terrifying entities that most mortals who know of their existence hope only to escape their notice
Character Creation/Profiles
Here is the character profile/registration format, which needs to followed exactly. When created, one must post the profile on to this here OOC to await moderation (McScottish) approval.
Code:
Username:Character Name:Race/Species:Faith/Religion (if any):Chapter/Legion/Former Organization:Gender:Age:Career and Skills:Weapons:Attire:Equipment/OtherPhysical Description (as detailed as possible please, pictures not accepted.):Mental Description/Personality:Background/History:
Extra Bits'N'Pieces/The Plan
Let's try this again, shall we?
This will be run alongside the Rogue Trader RP, not over it, though I am sure that some people might favour this over the more 'normal' and (loosely) Imperial-centric RP Iron Aquilifier, Bastard Feudalism and I will all be running and co-GMing that RP.
As for this RP...
It could be called the 'Reverse Rogue Trader', if you will, for we shall be walking the path of evil and damnation as a variety of colourful individuals. At times we may become part of a larger force, perhaps even a Black Crusade, but that's part of the fun of trying to anticipate Chaos - you really can't.
What I envision is a Warband much like the Red Corsairs I.E. A group of heretical, piractical, not necessarily Chaos-worshipping pirates and reavers; you could choose more-or-less any path, from a Chaos Space Marine (within reason and after mod approval!) To a corrupted Guardsman/woman, a seducted Sister of Battle, a cultist with a mission, a rogue Imperial nobleman who just asked one too many favours from the local cult leader, Dark Heretek (traitor Mechanicus), or even a renegade - not Chaos, but renegade - loyalist Space Marine (again, with mod approval).
This is not supposed to be an RP that will be all over the place, nor will outrightly idiotic acts/posts be tolerated, but it does give players a chance to create a unique (and hopefully not too overpowered) character that can add something to woving band of wasckally weavers!
Your character need not worship any of the Chaos Gods - or, on the other hand, worhsip all of them - they may be male or female...or both! What are their motivations for even joining a larger group? Are there tensions between them and others? (Looking at you Tzeentch and Khorne!) And what, if any, is their ultimate end game - riches, daemonhood, a nice mansion and jacuzzi in Beverly Hills?
In essence, the rules - minus the ones already stated above - are these:
1. Send your profile to the GM (myself), do not post it in the thread, no matter how long/detailed it may be.
2. Stick to the realms of what we know - even with Chaos, a half-Chaos marine psyker who happens to have killed Sanguinius instead of Horus is a little out there lore wise.
3. Try to use your imagination; it's Chaos! I know ya'll have good minds, I've seen some excellent writing, so creating a generally non-cliched character, that can't wipe out an entire planet by themself, should be easy as pie...right?
4. Follow the GM's lead - it's fine to go off on tangents, should they have things to do with the story, but don't just run off or teleport somewhere before teleporting back and so on.
5. Let's have some variety here, I'm all for being part of a marauding band of Chaos Marines - in fact that's more than likely - but there's a plethora of persons and reasons to choose from.
Character Name: Hermaphroditus Androgicos (once Pausanias Atlantiades)
Race/Species: Human-ish (Possessed)
Faith/Religion (if any): Devoutee of Slaanesh
Chapter/Legion/Former Organization: Formerly a Brother-Sergeant of the Relictors Chapter, now a Possessed of Slaanesh
Gender: Hermaphrodite - prefers to be called 'She'
Age: Approx 425 years, but appears to now be stuck in a state of perpetual youthfulness
Career and Skills: Once upon a time Hermaphroditus was a Brother-Sergeant of the Relictor Astartes, and thus holds all the knowledge and training that goes with it, from various forms of combat and strategem to how best to praise the Emperor.
Since melding with her Daemonic passenger she has become a much more lethal weapon, keeping her Human(ish) form when not in battle, but possessing greater speed, endurance, healing and senses than even your average Space Marine. In combat her possessing Daemon changes her shape to fit her needs, growing claws or spikes and filling her with its own energy, though always reverting back once the battle is done.
Ambitions of greater changes and further Daemonhood are never far from her mind, and perhaps something she can achieve in the future...
Weapons: She carries an always sharp scimitar and a bolt pistol as standard, although just as happy tearing adversaries apart with her bare hands, an assortment of knives also ringing her hips; you never know when you might need them for something.
Attire: See Physical Description
Equipment/Other Apart from her pendant bearing the symbol of Slaanesh, which never leaves her neck, she doesn't really carry or need to carry anything, although she is not adverse to stripping the living or dead of things that catch her eye.
Physical Description: Hermaphroditus is, as one might expect, an almost perfect blending of the male and female form into the very best of both worlds; an angular, pointed, face framed by long jet black hair through which a pair of Eldar-like ears show, matched with the slender neck, high cheekbones, arched brow and full lips of a woman - her mouth containing an extended prehensile tongue - and the iris of her eyes a dead white against the backdrop of white sclera, making up her face in a way that only makes it more unnaturally alluring to others.
As for her body, she retained her 'original form' to an extent - retaining the strength of an Astartes, she nevertheless became lither in build and somewhat shorter in height, her skin becoming softer, her hair growing in length, her once gargantuan and almost mutant form common to all Space Marines being turned into something much more feminine, and other more personal changes...but overall having the appearance of androgeny favoured both by her parasitic hitch-hiker and Slaanesh in general.
Usually she is clad in the desecrated power armour of her former Chapter, the once dark greay armour now painted a garish blend of pink and black and adorned with trophies and fetishes of her patron deity and trimmings of gold; at times, however, she prefers go into battle or parade about wearing nothing more than soft silks, the clothes of a captured noble, a loin cloth...or even naked. If this is the case, the transfusion ports and neursal sensors of the black carapace are readily visible on her flesh, and those parts of her that changed from being male are a lot more obvious.
In battle her Daemonic half takes control, and all the above is stripped away, warped to reveal a handmaiden of Slaanesh - hand forming into scything claws, skin becoming purple and mottled, feet forming into repitilian talons and teeth sharpening into points. The armour fuses to the flesh and, in short, she becomes more beast than human.
Thus far, apart from a coupling of genders and genitals, she had not experienced any of the more mutating 'gifts' of her patron deity - always retaining two arms and legs, ten fingers and toes, and the human form overall after each battle - but there is still time for that to change...
(Or picture a towering Sister of Battle, enhanced in beauty by the inhuman melding of a male and female, as well as possession by a Slaaneshi daemon, dressed in the power armour of a Space Marine - or naked - and you're half way there!)
Mental Description/Personality: Once she was a loyal servant of the Emperor, one of his uncorruptable weapons against the darkness, but - possibly due to the teachings of her Chapter, as well as her own selfishness - she eventually was stripped piece-by-piece of any faith she may have had in him or the Imperium. When the Chapter were then hunted down, it seemed to confirm everything she had been told, and caused her to seek a stronger and less hypocritical master...a master that could give her everything she desired.
With her possession and devotion to Slaanesh that it brings, she now desires much what any other Slaaneshi does - she desires the gifts of her master, the myriad of pleasures of flesh, soul and more that can be had through noise, pain and...other things, the Daemonette known as Salmakis is always there but allowing her to control 'her own' body when outside of battle. This leads to much talking to oneself, even arguments, but from time-to-time the Astartes once known as Pausanias might try to re-emerge only to be quelled and sent back to the dark recesses of her own mind once more.
In terms of others, she usually plays well with them, disliking other Chaos worshippers in their own ways but more than happy to ally herself with whomever can further her goals or provide her with what she needs.
After she gets what she wants, who knows? All she desires is perfection in all things.
Background/History:
Spoiler Alert, click show to read:
- Brother-Sergeant Pausanias Atlantiades (since renamed Hermaphroditus Androgicos), is recruited from the Feral World of Neutra into the Fire Claws Chapter of the Adeptus Astartes. He is subsequently found to be pure enough of heart, and strong enough of will, to undertake the agonising transformation from Neutran tribesman into a fully fledged Space Marine.
- Over the next few decades he progresses through the ranks of the Chapters Scout Company, joining the Fourth Company as a Tactical Battle-Brother after a particularly bloody conflict against an uprising on the planet of El'katar.
- Continues to take part in numerous conflicts across many warzones, including The Blood Star Campaign (748.M41), and the Battle for the Captor of Sin Space Hulk (ca. 950.M41) alongside the Xanthite Inquisitor De Marche and Fire Claws Librarian Decario. Upon the capture of the Space Hulk, the slaying of a Champion of Tzeentch, and the power shown by the usage of Daemonic artefacts against Chaos itself, the Chapter will in decades to come - after seeking out all manner of artefacts and weapons of their own - take the name of the Relictors and paint their armour grey and black.
- Battle-Brother Pausanias joins a contingent of his Chapter in the Third War for Armageddon, becoming an expert in jungle warfare and Ork extermination, being promoted to Brother-Sergeant of the Fourth Company shortly after the Relictors leave the planet.
- With all ten companies of the Chapter comitted to the fighting during the 13th Black Crusade (999.M41), Pausanias leads his squad at the behest of Chapter Master Bardane to a planet just outside the Eye of Terror known as Gelos IX, with orders to recover an artefact known as the Orb of Salmakis which had been buried there by the Emperor's Children as they fled the Emperor's rightful justice; the artefact, an unbreakable glass orb that swirled with a sickly pink light within, was first found by Pausanias and swiftly concealed on his person...though why he hid it from his brethren, he did not know at the time.
- With the action at Fremas over, and the departure of the Relictors back toward their star-fort and home, Pausanias had started to have visions and see things - things bought on by the Orb, which he kept secreted within his chambers and away from prying eyes, often staring into its depths in moments of silence and contemplation - little did he realise that it, and the Daemonic entity within the Orb, were slowly eroding away his faith (and thus his shield) in the Emperor, always whispering to him in the dark and even telling him that his Chapter would soon be betrayed because of its own arrogance and pride. An arrogance and pride which he shared.
- By the time the Grey Knights appeared, there to begin the extermination of the supposedly heretical Chapter, the mind and the soul of Pausanias had already been given over to the Orb that he may survive the assault of the Ordo Malleus, and escape unharmed with those of his Brothers that would also flee; thus he was part of the Relictors that broke through the Inquisitorial blockade and straight for shelter in the Eye of Terror itself.
- It was here, in its home, alone with the Relictor aboard a small cruiser, that the entity known only as Salmakis revealed its true nature as a lesser servant of Slaanesh, taunting Pausanias - who had never released himself of the Orb, or revealed it to his superiors, though he could have at any time - telling him that he had escaped and now owed the Daemon his soul. He refused at first, trying to shield himself in a faith that was just no longer there, stripped away slowly since the Orb came to him, the Warp creature laughing as it not only mauled his soul but slithered unknown into his body as well. When all was said and done, he found that the light of the Orb had now grown dim, the shell of the artefact little more than a bauble, and of the Daemon there was no sign.
- Drifting through the Eye with two dozen of his Brothers, Pausanias once more began to dream; these dreams of the greatest intensity, more like a vivid awakening really, experiences of perfection and of lustful thoughts that no Astartes was supposed to ever experience. How long they drifted, remaining away from all others, it cannot be said with the flow of time in the Eye, but by the end of a week in standard time he had began to feel pains and aches across his body, to take on a haughty and self-righteous air in the presence of his kin, and to urge his comrades to find an inhabited planet where they might land.
- By the time the cruiser, known as the Light of Reason, drifted back out of the Eye and into real space once more Pausanias was no more; he had declared that his name would be Hermaphroditus Androgicos, that all aboard the strike vessel - whether of greater or lower rank - would swear loyalty to him, and that they would raid the nearest Imperial planet for slaves. It was now that his Battle-Brothers finally saw his concealed madness, saw what he had become, and made to silence him forever! Yet they had lost men in the Eye, and Pausanias (or what had been Pausanias) was no longer a mere Astartes. With bolter and sword, and even bare hands, he massacred the remaining Relictors aboard the ship and, in the chapel which lies aboard all Imperial vessels, sacrificed those still living to a deity whose name he would chant in a language he did not actually know.
- This act was the final one needed to allow Salmakis to change him utterly, his body - made in the image of the Emperor and his unknown Primarch - melting inside the shell of his armour as the wax of a candle, reforming itself in much that same way, the pain of it all reaching beyond the limits of even an Asartes' endurance and causing him to black out more than once; his armour fell as if torn from his body, the black carapace consumed by a wicked fire as he changed, his hulking frame warping to become leaner but just as strong, and his gargantuan features - so alien and even fearsome to the mortal eye - tearing itself apart and reforming in a cacophony of delightful pain. His skin took on softer feel, his face becoming a confusing blend of male and female, his entire body retaining the organs of and a more toned version of the Astartes musculature, and when the pain finally subsided he once more fell into the black.
- Not much more is heard or known about the one who calls herself Hermaphroditus Androgicos, a recent report claiming that she raided a monastery of the Adeptus Sororitas of the Order of the Flaming Heart in the company of Slaaneshi Warband for her own purposes...after that, she simply disappears, until now.
Sigral - SilverLich - A Dirty Cop on a Quest for Knowledge
Username:SilverLich
Character Name: Sigral
Race/Species: Human
Faith/Religion (if any): Worshipper of Tzeentch
Chapter/Legion/Former Organization: Former member of the Adeptus Arbites
Gender: Male
Age: 30
Career and Skills: Served as a member of the adeptus arbites for a number of years, first as a judge, and then as a detective arbitrator.
Thanks to his years of processing the paperwork of the arbites, and some trial and error during his time as a member of a local cult, he's become adept at being able to forge the right papers to redirect attention or allow certain actions to go unhindered. From his days as a detective, he's gained the insight into how to properly stalk a person and what to look for in a suspect or one who might be suspicious.
Ever since the completion of the ritual, he has received an eye of Tzeentch on his right hand and a small start up of psychic power to allow him to use it, which he has been training to try and augment his weapon with, although all attempts so far have left him severely exhausted.
Weapons:
Power Maul
Locke-pattern boltgun
Auto pistol
Attire: In battle, Sigral prefers his old carapace armor, now painted varying shades of blue and adorned with symbols and marks of Tzeentch, while outside, he wears whatever the local fashion is, mainly to fit in with any potential targets he may have to track, changing his outfit as necessary.
Equipment/Other: Cyber Mastiff: Before taking part in the raid that saw both his colleagues and new allies slaughtered, Sigral had the heretical tech priest in the employ of the cult create a device that when used, disabled one of the cyber mastiff's that had gone with the group long enough for the tech priest to make the mechanical creature see Sigral as its master.
Eye of Tzeentch: While most recipients of an eye of Tzeentch would have some experience with the powers of a psyker, Sigral has only recently awoken his own potential thanks to the eye, and thus has to focus to get anything meaningful out of it and, and has found that trying to hide it starts to irritate him, physically and mentally.
Physical Description (as detailed as possible please, pictures not accepted.):
Standing at around five foot six inches tall, Sigral has yet to let most of his appearance from his Arbites days go. He is well toned and muscular for a follower of Tzeentch, a bit thinner than most men, with dark brown that meets the base of his neck, and usually standing in a rigid pose thanks to his years as an officer. The beginning of a beard marks the bottom of his face, but only because he has neglected shaving ever since he has left.
Mental Description/Personality:
After leaving his home planet and abandoning everyone, even his old allies, Sigral, despite his desire to know where he fits in his master's plans, he still wonders if betraying his new comrades was the right choice. He had been so desperate to find his place in things, that he betrayed everything he ever knew, and the thought of being alone, even if he finds where he fits into the grand schemes of Tzeentch terrifies him. Due to this, he has promised to be completely and utterly loyal to whatever party he finds that will lead him to his purpose, although he still fully intends to find it. That does not mean he will follow them completely, especially if he finds himself in the company of other worshipers of the dark gods. He finds the Khornate completely pathetic, having no other reason or purpose to do anything besides slaughter and killing. Nurglites are content be hopeless and unwilling to advance anything in his eyes. The only others he tolerates besides other Tzeentchians are the Slaaneshi, they may be a decadent group in his eyes, but at least they pursue something that resembles a future, although he's perfectly willing to shove the barrel of his autopistol in their face in an effort to get them to back off if they cannot respect his personal space.
Background/History: The son of an officer in the imperial guard and an engineer for his home planet, Sigurd Androla chose neither of his parents paths in favor of training to be a member of the Adeptus Arbites. When he finally became a member of the local Arbites, Sigurd started as a simple judge, processing the various cases and other paperwork that came his way just like his fellows, and joining the occasional arrest. After an exemplary performance under a veteran detective arbitrator, Sigurd was transferred to the arbitrators to train as a detective. It was here that his downfall began.
A few weeks into his training, his current target had broken into a local library, and the young detective in training followed in after him, accidentally revealing himself as the perpetrator had finished drawing a ritualistic circle in the ground and had begun chanting. After killing him, Sigurd tried to investigate the circle, only to feel a number of voices begin talking loudly in his head, trying to convince him to finish the man's work. He managed to resist long enough to call in for back up before passing out, waking up later to find that he could no longer hear the voices. Over the next several years, Sigurd improved his craft, all the while trying to track down anything connected to the break in, believing that it had to be connected to something big.
He got his answer during a botched raid that left him a captive of a local cult of Tzeentch. Where he expected torture, he found himself face to face with the leader of the cult as he began to explain their purpose, that everything was happening for a reason, even Sigurd happening upon the ritual and the outcome of his encounter, of the complete inevitability of it all. After all of it, Sigurd lowered his, his voice almost a whisper as he spoke to the leader, "than why do we keep going?" The leader answered with quiet laugh of his own before replying "because we are all a part of our lords' plans, because we all have a part to play." The leader then unlocked his restraints and held out a hand to help the young arbites to his feet. Sigurd then took it, with no other motive than to find his own purpose, to find what he out what it was that he was meant to do.
From that day forward, Sigurd used his training, old and new, to keep the cult going as long as he could without seeming too suspicious to his superiors and fellow arbites, all in preparation for a ritual to make the cult greater. On the same day as the ritual was to be done, Sigurd was chosen as a member of a task force set to raid the location of the cult, something he had only been able to hide for so long once the arbites really started looking. As the day drew closer, Sigurd made preparations of his own. The day of the raid, what was meant to be a massacre for both sides became utter chaos.
False numbers reported to both sides, the layout of the hideout only being occasionally right, and communications for both sides to any help they may have had on the outside almost immediately being cut off. Still, the cultists fought to defend the ritual, and the Arbites pushed on, slaughtering one another as the confusion became greater. By the time the end of it, most on both sides were dead, the few that escaped desperate to bring help, as the cult leader and the lead enforcer were still trying to stop one another along with a select few.
The ritual was nearing completion when they had been whittled down to just the leader, a body guard, and Sigurd and the enforcer. On the cusp of victory, Sigurd struck the enforcer with his power maul and joined the two remaining cultists as the ritual opened a small hole in the warp. He then shot the bodyguard and the leader, explaining to him as he lay dying that there was no way this could continue, he had seen occurrences like this before without someone like him helping the cult and how things turned out even if they won: with an inquisitor showing up and everyone ending up dead at some point. So he approached the opening alone, and held out his hand, feeling something on the other side reach out from the warp, and he felt himself change.
It was only for an instant, and the hole closed soon afterwards, the daemon on the other side believing there was no point in continuing something even it knew was doomed to fail, but Sigurd found himself with an eye on the back of his hand, and a vision of cultists and arbites arriving soon, so he set about destroying all evidence of his involvement, even starting a fire that he hoped would burn the whole building before he left the planet entirely. Now, having cast off his old name, Sigral searches for a greater purpose, of a plan that will effect more than a mere planet.
Last edited by McScottish; July 29, 2015 at 02:57 PM.
Ok, this sounds interesting. The norm would of course be Astartes, but regular humans from any Imperial Guard Regiment could join if the motivation is reasonable enough? Right now I have three options conjured up: a regular Deathwatch Marine originally from the Crimson Fists, a Vostroyan Firstborn Guardsman or a Praetorian Guardsman.
Ok, this sounds interesting. The norm would of course be Astartes, but regular humans from any Imperial Guard Regiment could join if the motivation is reasonable enough? Right now I have three options conjured up: a regular Deathwatch Marine originally from the Crimson Fists, a Vostroyan Firstborn Guardsman or a Praetorian Guardsman.
The Astartes would be fine, the Guard would likely need to have bene seconded to the Ordo Xenos, but would be fine after that I imagine.
I'm more looking to form a DW Kill-Team, but the Guard et al are there as extra options.
I would love to be apart of this though i would warn that it is very....difficult to accurately depict Astartes. They have been depicted in several different lights, their strength ranging greatly depending on the author.
I would love to be apart of this though i would warn that it is very....difficult to accurately depict Astartes. They have been depicted in several different lights, their strength ranging greatly depending on the author.
And that is exactly the point!
Different people will have their own ways of depicting them but, generally, I'd go with the Dan Abnett/Aaron Dembski-Bowden marines for this RP.
Something like this...
Spoiler Alert, click show to read:
Last edited by McScottish; July 27, 2015 at 11:45 AM.
Why is the body so big but the head so disproportionately small?
Because, oh wise one, he is wearing a hulking suit of armour - his actual body is under about two layers of it, they then added the jump-pack (which is massive as well) to his back.
Because, oh wise one, he is wearing a hulking suit of armour - his actual body is under about two layers of it, they then added the jump-pack (which is massive as well) to his back.
And that is why.
I had assumed he was wearing a large amount of armor, though that's a lot of armor but I can suspend my disbelief for that. But assuming his arms reach out to where the armored gauntlets are and his legs out to where the armored feet are, he would still be disproportionately lanky with a comparatively normal sized head.
I had assumed he was wearing a large amount of armor, though that's a lot of armor but I can suspend my disbelief for that. But assuming his arms reach out to where the armored gauntlets are and his legs out to where the armored feet are, he would still be disproportionately lanky with a comparatively normal sized head.
I can't appear to hear you over the sound of how much I really don't care.
Re: "Have you ever danced with the Devil in the pale moonlight?" AKA Excommunicate Traitoris- 40K RP OOC Thread
A chaos RP? Maybe I don't have to scrap that old sheet after all. (If I actually knew where it was).
Oh well, I'll figure something out.
Spoiler Alert, click show to read:
ARAN
Class: Hylian Knight/ Barbarian
Total wounds: 6
Race: Hylian
Equipment: Chainmail, Darkhammer Helm, Hylian Sword, Gillack's Serrated Blade, Dagger
Special bonuses:
+2 attacks against Hylians
+3 Endurance when at 6 wounds- Chain grade armor
+2 Endurance when at 6 wounds when wearing helmet
+5 initiative rolls - Lizaflos speed
+10 attack when fighting someone who's insulted Gillack
THRESTA
Class: Songsayer
Total wounds: 6
Race: Lizaflos
Equipment: Lizaflos Scales ( Chain), Twin Serrated shortblades, Tail
Special Bonuses:
+2 attack when at 6 wounds
+3 Endurance when at 6 wounds- Chain grade armor
+5 initiative rolls- Lizaflos speed
+1 attack roll per initiative order. *
* Can attack with blades and tail in one turn.
YURAK
Class: Aeraflos (sp?)
Total wounds: 6
Race: Aeroflos ( sp?)
Equipment: Same as Thresta.
Special Bonuses:
+2 attack when at 6 wounds
+3 endurance when at 6 wounds- Chain grade armor
+5 initiative rolls- Lizaflos speed
+1 attack roll when attacking from the sky *
Gonna leave this for those who wanna be Chaos Space Marines. Its a very good generator. Be aware I already lay claim on Mazrael, Malixus and Damorius as names for now lol.
Gaming Director for the Gaming Staff
Gaming Director for the Play-by-Post Subforum and the RPG Shed
"Have you ever danced with the Devil in the pale moonlight?" AKA Excommunicate Traitoris- 40K RP OOC Thread
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Originally Posted by Jokern
