"Get these scum onto the trucks! Lord Azazel will have all your heads if you don't hurry!" With a crack of the whip, men, women and children were herded onto huge twisted vehicles made of flesh and bone and black iron. Herding them were five hulking Demons. They were huge brutes, towering over even the largest men, with great black horns curling back in a mess of tangled white hair. Their eyes glowed with malice and fire, their faces looking to be etched from bone with no skin. The Demons were clad in black metal armor with coats made of crudely-stitched skin.
As their whips fell on one, a young child, one of the men grabbed the whip. "Leave her be!"
The Demon looked momentarily stunned, then began to bring his arm around to slay the man. Instead, a tremendously loud crack filled the air and a four inch long spike appeared in the Demon's head. The monster looked momentarily stunned, then fell to the ground.
The remaining demons readied their weapons, fierce claws and cruelly notched swords and stared around.
"You, tell Lord Azazel we are under attack!"
One of the Demons ran. The remaining two stared around. "Where are they? Where did the shot come from?"
As if to answer, a door on a nearby ruined building was flung open and four people emerged, poured out, clad in a mix of shining armor adorned with holy symbols, the black armor of the Demons, and military urban camoflauge, carrying an esoteric mix of weaponry. The leader of the pack was a young woman wearing bright armor holding a sword that seemed to glow with a light of it's own. She crossed steel with the apparent leader of the Demons, each strike sending up a brief burst of fire and sparks. Her blade nicked his flesh, leaving a smoking hole. As the Demon roared in agony, she drove her blade into it's heart.
The second was a woman in a dark cowl, cupping ice and fire in each hand. She raised her hands at a Demon that was circling around the leader's back, freezing his flesh and then burning it away. The Demon staggered back enraged and turned to her, only for her to grin. A spar of metal rose into her hand and began to glow a pale blue, then shot forward into the hole in the Demon's flesh before pulsing white and exploding, sending Demonic viscera in all directions.
The third was a man clad in black armor and holding a sword of moving flesh and bone that pulsed with a nameless malice. He looked old, wrinkled and grey haired. "Follow the one that's escaping! Azazel must not learn of this attack!" The fourth, clad in military fatigues and holding an assault rifle nodded and began to follow the the third. The old man joined the younger woman in battle, his blade meeting the second demon's attack. As their blades met, his blade wrapped around the Demon's and drove into it's throat.
The third demon ran in terror, feeling his dark heart pulsing in his chest. But he would make it, he was close to Azazel's domain, he was...
Suddenly, his legs were shredded. He fell onto hard payment, staring at one of the shots that had struck him. He recognized it - knucklebones!?
A boot slammed into his back and turned him over to stare into the barrel of a pistol.
"When you get back to Hell, tell them Morte Infernus sent you."
As their whips fell on one, a young child, one of the men grabbed the whip. "Leave her be!"
The Demon looked momentarily stunned, then began to bring his arm around to slay the man. Instead, a tremendously loud crack filled the air and a four inch long spike appeared in the Demon's head. The monster looked momentarily stunned, then fell to the ground.
The remaining demons readied their weapons, fierce claws and cruelly notched swords and stared around.
"You, tell Lord Azazel we are under attack!"
One of the Demons ran. The remaining two stared around. "Where are they? Where did the shot come from?"
As if to answer, a door on a nearby ruined building was flung open and four people emerged, poured out, clad in a mix of shining armor adorned with holy symbols, the black armor of the Demons, and military urban camoflauge, carrying an esoteric mix of weaponry. The leader of the pack was a young woman wearing bright armor holding a sword that seemed to glow with a light of it's own. She crossed steel with the apparent leader of the Demons, each strike sending up a brief burst of fire and sparks. Her blade nicked his flesh, leaving a smoking hole. As the Demon roared in agony, she drove her blade into it's heart.
The second was a woman in a dark cowl, cupping ice and fire in each hand. She raised her hands at a Demon that was circling around the leader's back, freezing his flesh and then burning it away. The Demon staggered back enraged and turned to her, only for her to grin. A spar of metal rose into her hand and began to glow a pale blue, then shot forward into the hole in the Demon's flesh before pulsing white and exploding, sending Demonic viscera in all directions.
The third was a man clad in black armor and holding a sword of moving flesh and bone that pulsed with a nameless malice. He looked old, wrinkled and grey haired. "Follow the one that's escaping! Azazel must not learn of this attack!" The fourth, clad in military fatigues and holding an assault rifle nodded and began to follow the the third. The old man joined the younger woman in battle, his blade meeting the second demon's attack. As their blades met, his blade wrapped around the Demon's and drove into it's throat.
The third demon ran in terror, feeling his dark heart pulsing in his chest. But he would make it, he was close to Azazel's domain, he was...
Suddenly, his legs were shredded. He fell onto hard payment, staring at one of the shots that had struck him. He recognized it - knucklebones!?
A boot slammed into his back and turned him over to stare into the barrel of a pistol.
"When you get back to Hell, tell them Morte Infernus sent you."
The year is 2028. On October 2 of 2025, a great portal to another dimension formed over Greenland. From this portal poured swarms of monsters, later realized to be Demons. Humanity was decimated. With conventional weapons unable to seriously harm Demons, defeat was in a matter of months. With the utter extinction of Humanity in sight. With no visible recourse, the leaders of the world pleaded surrender and mercy. To their surprise, their pleas were accepted. In just three months, over six billion men, women, and children had died, leaving only a paltry few hundred million alive on a desolated world now ruled by Demons.
The Demons divided the world among themselves, each Archduke claiming a territory. The North American continent was claimed by the demon Azazel who set up his domain within the city of sin itself, Las Vegas. For entertainment he would bring in thousands of innocents and perform unspeakable acts upon them before ending their lives and devouring their souls. Soon after, resistance groups began to form. While initially helpless and useless, each began discovering ways to harm Demons, from ancient texts of magic or the use of consecrated weapons to making weapons out of the flesh of dead demons, or even binding still-living demons into powerful, dangerous weapons. The organizations around Las Vegas formed into a single organization that called itself 'Morte Infernus'. Death to Hell.
Join us.
The Demons divided the world among themselves, each Archduke claiming a territory. The North American continent was claimed by the demon Azazel who set up his domain within the city of sin itself, Las Vegas. For entertainment he would bring in thousands of innocents and perform unspeakable acts upon them before ending their lives and devouring their souls. Soon after, resistance groups began to form. While initially helpless and useless, each began discovering ways to harm Demons, from ancient texts of magic or the use of consecrated weapons to making weapons out of the flesh of dead demons, or even binding still-living demons into powerful, dangerous weapons. The organizations around Las Vegas formed into a single organization that called itself 'Morte Infernus'. Death to Hell.
Join us.
Name:
Age:
Gender:
Skills: (This is where it goes if you're a Magic-User)
Possessions: (Four main types of weapons - Demonflesh, Bound Demons, Blessed, and Enchanted Weapons. While it's possible to have a blessed firearm and bullets or use Demonflesh as ammunition, it is not possible to have a Bound Demon as a firearm. Bound Demon weapons are dangerous and have a price to pay for their use. What that price is remains to be seen. It is not possible to have a weapon that is mixed - for example, you cannot have an enchanted Bound Demon weapon, or a blessed Demonflesh weapon.)
Appearance:
History:
Age:
Gender:
Skills: (This is where it goes if you're a Magic-User)
Possessions: (Four main types of weapons - Demonflesh, Bound Demons, Blessed, and Enchanted Weapons. While it's possible to have a blessed firearm and bullets or use Demonflesh as ammunition, it is not possible to have a Bound Demon as a firearm. Bound Demon weapons are dangerous and have a price to pay for their use. What that price is remains to be seen. It is not possible to have a weapon that is mixed - for example, you cannot have an enchanted Bound Demon weapon, or a blessed Demonflesh weapon.)
Appearance:
History:
Name: Satine Molyneux/Ace Adams
Age: 22
Gender: Female
Possessions: A demon, Delilah, bound in a Rapier. The hilt/guard is an elaborate twist of gold. The blade is sharp on both edges, and is about 4 feet in length. It draws blood every time Ace touches the blade, no matter if he's wearing gloves. His whole right arm goes numb an hour after drawing the weapon, and the numbness usually lasts another hour if he's lucky. Since luck isn't something he'd rather rely on during a fight with a demon, he also has a simple blessed pistol, engraved with the words "Eicere Malum Ex Vobis".
Appearance: He has long jet black hair that's pulled back in a ponytail. Never seen without a red handkerchief tied around the lower half of his face and sunglasses hiding amber eyes. Normally wears a thick jacket that's closed most of the time, fingerless gloves, plain loose jeans, and work boots. Yes he is uncomfortable. No he's not taking anything off. Also wears a strange tag inscribed with the name "Satine Molyneux".
A closer inspection one would notice that Ace's hands are smooth and uncalloused, and his appearance is a bit too well-cared for. He has no facial hair. Some people think he dresses the way he does to appear more "macho", his appearance more suited to a "pretty boy" stereotype.
History: Satine Molyneux knew her family was dead. She watched them die in front of her, tortured for hours before the vile demons feasted on their flesh and their souls. They had just picked them randomly out of the crowd, devouring them publicly to instill fear in the other slaves. Her aunt saved her, trying to cover her eyes, trying to plug her ears, but she knew. Beautiful Satine joined the Morte Infernus as soon as she got the chance, taking out every demon she could find, even managing to free her aunt.
However, her accomplishments quickly got her in trouble, and in a mission gone wrong she was badly beaten and raped by the demons who wanted to bring her down a notch. It was only luck that there was another team in the area who were able to rescue her before she was killed. Forever traumatized by her ordeal, Satine hid herself behind a male persona, vowing to never be weak again. She wrapped her chest with bandages, and wore loose clothing to hide her figure. That's when "Ace Adams" was born.
Satine was quickly forgotten, her post taken up by a mysterious but capable young man that no one seemed to know anything about. Ace hunted down demons twice as hard, his job made easier by a demon sword he acquired "through a mentor".
Age: 22
Gender: Female
Possessions: A demon, Delilah, bound in a Rapier. The hilt/guard is an elaborate twist of gold. The blade is sharp on both edges, and is about 4 feet in length. It draws blood every time Ace touches the blade, no matter if he's wearing gloves. His whole right arm goes numb an hour after drawing the weapon, and the numbness usually lasts another hour if he's lucky. Since luck isn't something he'd rather rely on during a fight with a demon, he also has a simple blessed pistol, engraved with the words "Eicere Malum Ex Vobis".
Appearance: He has long jet black hair that's pulled back in a ponytail. Never seen without a red handkerchief tied around the lower half of his face and sunglasses hiding amber eyes. Normally wears a thick jacket that's closed most of the time, fingerless gloves, plain loose jeans, and work boots. Yes he is uncomfortable. No he's not taking anything off. Also wears a strange tag inscribed with the name "Satine Molyneux".
A closer inspection one would notice that Ace's hands are smooth and uncalloused, and his appearance is a bit too well-cared for. He has no facial hair. Some people think he dresses the way he does to appear more "macho", his appearance more suited to a "pretty boy" stereotype.
History: Satine Molyneux knew her family was dead. She watched them die in front of her, tortured for hours before the vile demons feasted on their flesh and their souls. They had just picked them randomly out of the crowd, devouring them publicly to instill fear in the other slaves. Her aunt saved her, trying to cover her eyes, trying to plug her ears, but she knew. Beautiful Satine joined the Morte Infernus as soon as she got the chance, taking out every demon she could find, even managing to free her aunt.
However, her accomplishments quickly got her in trouble, and in a mission gone wrong she was badly beaten and raped by the demons who wanted to bring her down a notch. It was only luck that there was another team in the area who were able to rescue her before she was killed. Forever traumatized by her ordeal, Satine hid herself behind a male persona, vowing to never be weak again. She wrapped her chest with bandages, and wore loose clothing to hide her figure. That's when "Ace Adams" was born.
Satine was quickly forgotten, her post taken up by a mysterious but capable young man that no one seemed to know anything about. Ace hunted down demons twice as hard, his job made easier by a demon sword he acquired "through a mentor".
Name: Katherine Haleigh Voss, "The Maiden in Red"
Age: 25
Gender: Female
Skills: Dread Mage - Voss is a moderately powerful magic-user, capable of conjuring and controlling a variety of dark and deadly energies, ranging from searing shadowbolts to explosive doom-bolt volleys, writhing tendrils of shining darkness, and even protective shells of shadow. Unfortunately for Voss, this power is difficult to control, dangerous to use near allies, and has led to horrid burns on her arms and hands, caused simply through channeling their power. Fortunately, as unstable and dangerous as this power is, it's.. probably unlikely to kill her unless she opens the floodgates. Probably.
She possesses minimal other applicable skills, as she was an English Lit major in university, and was not offered the opportunity to learn much while enslaved. It's presumable that the Morte would have taught her basic survival and field skills, however.
Possessions: Voss has a set of intricate, thin gold chains wrapped and woven about her fingers and forearms, but these serve less as weapons and more as a focus for her powers-- to keep the searing energies from spreading across her body when she draws upon its power.
She also possesses a dagger carved from a demon warrior's femur, its scales from the scaly hide of a demon's mount, and with an eye inset in the hilt, more decorative than effective-- though it eerily does seem to slither about and stare at important things in the area.
Appearance: Katherine Voss did not have a good time during the demonic invasion. It's evident in the terrible burn scars running up her forearms, the so-called "Glasgow Smile" scars carved into her face, and various arcane-looking ritual or ownership scars branded across her forehead and down her back. A long period of minimal food and abuses at the hands of demonic overseers left her gangly and wasted, skin pallid and sickly, eyes sunken-- yet luminous blue with inner power. Her hair is dark and short, cut into a pixie cut with a long front fringe, typically swept to her right. It's obvious that she has minimal physical capabilities-- only 5'4", and frail, but the nightmarish energies at her command would suggest she's far from helpless. She earned the name "Maiden in Red" for swathing herself in tattered crimson fabric, and concealing her face behind an intricately carved white mask-- carved from the bones of the first demon she killed. With only two eye openings, the mask is carefully painted in gold and in red and purple enamel in intricate, serpentine designs, her shining eyes radiating through the eye-holes. Voss, despite her wasted frame, has a surprisingly powerful and almost sinister voice, honed by her dry Londoner accent.
History: Katherine Voss had a fairly typical life prior to the demonic invasion. English-born, she went to a decent university, and took her internship at a rare bookseller, taking some interest in the occult, but nothing seemed to come of it.
Then the demons came and London burned. Voss was taken as a slave--but she possessed a spark of magic, which intrigued her demonic overlords, and so she wasn't devoured like so many others. Instead, she was used as a guinea pig for three years, the demons forcing her to develop her powers, regardless of the harm it inflicted upon her. They branded her with ritual markings and sigils of ownership...
Until Azazel too took interest. The Archduke arranged a slave transfer, taking some of the more interesting picks from Northern Europe to his domain in North America. Voss was included.
How typical that a convoy of such import would be a perfect target for the Morte Infernus to raid. They ambushed the rearmost slave transport, killing the demonic guards and releasing the slaves inside. Voss was one of these.
Since then, she joined on with the organization, thirsting for vengeance for what the demons did to her.. and to the world. She has proven to be a devastating attacker, though many of the Morte worry about the glyphs inscribed on her flesh, or the warped powers she draws upon.
Age: 25
Gender: Female
Skills: Dread Mage - Voss is a moderately powerful magic-user, capable of conjuring and controlling a variety of dark and deadly energies, ranging from searing shadowbolts to explosive doom-bolt volleys, writhing tendrils of shining darkness, and even protective shells of shadow. Unfortunately for Voss, this power is difficult to control, dangerous to use near allies, and has led to horrid burns on her arms and hands, caused simply through channeling their power. Fortunately, as unstable and dangerous as this power is, it's.. probably unlikely to kill her unless she opens the floodgates. Probably.
She possesses minimal other applicable skills, as she was an English Lit major in university, and was not offered the opportunity to learn much while enslaved. It's presumable that the Morte would have taught her basic survival and field skills, however.
Possessions: Voss has a set of intricate, thin gold chains wrapped and woven about her fingers and forearms, but these serve less as weapons and more as a focus for her powers-- to keep the searing energies from spreading across her body when she draws upon its power.
She also possesses a dagger carved from a demon warrior's femur, its scales from the scaly hide of a demon's mount, and with an eye inset in the hilt, more decorative than effective-- though it eerily does seem to slither about and stare at important things in the area.
Appearance: Katherine Voss did not have a good time during the demonic invasion. It's evident in the terrible burn scars running up her forearms, the so-called "Glasgow Smile" scars carved into her face, and various arcane-looking ritual or ownership scars branded across her forehead and down her back. A long period of minimal food and abuses at the hands of demonic overseers left her gangly and wasted, skin pallid and sickly, eyes sunken-- yet luminous blue with inner power. Her hair is dark and short, cut into a pixie cut with a long front fringe, typically swept to her right. It's obvious that she has minimal physical capabilities-- only 5'4", and frail, but the nightmarish energies at her command would suggest she's far from helpless. She earned the name "Maiden in Red" for swathing herself in tattered crimson fabric, and concealing her face behind an intricately carved white mask-- carved from the bones of the first demon she killed. With only two eye openings, the mask is carefully painted in gold and in red and purple enamel in intricate, serpentine designs, her shining eyes radiating through the eye-holes. Voss, despite her wasted frame, has a surprisingly powerful and almost sinister voice, honed by her dry Londoner accent.
History: Katherine Voss had a fairly typical life prior to the demonic invasion. English-born, she went to a decent university, and took her internship at a rare bookseller, taking some interest in the occult, but nothing seemed to come of it.
Then the demons came and London burned. Voss was taken as a slave--but she possessed a spark of magic, which intrigued her demonic overlords, and so she wasn't devoured like so many others. Instead, she was used as a guinea pig for three years, the demons forcing her to develop her powers, regardless of the harm it inflicted upon her. They branded her with ritual markings and sigils of ownership...
Until Azazel too took interest. The Archduke arranged a slave transfer, taking some of the more interesting picks from Northern Europe to his domain in North America. Voss was included.
How typical that a convoy of such import would be a perfect target for the Morte Infernus to raid. They ambushed the rearmost slave transport, killing the demonic guards and releasing the slaves inside. Voss was one of these.
Since then, she joined on with the organization, thirsting for vengeance for what the demons did to her.. and to the world. She has proven to be a devastating attacker, though many of the Morte worry about the glyphs inscribed on her flesh, or the warped powers she draws upon.
Name: The Reaver, Matthew Arkham
Age: 33
Gender: Male
Skills: Warptime - The Reaver is capable of boosting his speed and reflexes to superhuman levels for short periods. To him, it is as if the world slows down around him. To others, it is as if he moves and reacts with inhuman haste.
Thaumaturgy - The Reaver has some mild ability in the art of blood magic. He can manipulate spilled blood, whether human or demonic, to form searing caustic projectiles, skewering spikes, and defensive shells. He can even expend concentration to prevent blood from leaving a bleeding person, but his abilities are not potent enough to heal or to control the blood within a living creature.
Possessions: Demontooth Cleaver - A large, heavy hand-and-a-half sword forged of steel and a demon femur, its blade composed of rows of serrated fangs ripped from fallen fiends. It is not unlike a macahuitl with demon fangs in place of obsidian fragments. The fangs glide their way up and down the heft of the weapon, almost like a reciprocating saw, allowing it to rend and tear through armour, flesh and bone alike.
Appearance: A tall, leanly muscular figure, the Reaver cuts the perfect image of a warrior, his body built for both explosive power and for great endurance. He was perhaps handsome once, with a strong jawline on a roughly rectangular face, but he has grown haggard and sunken with the years of battle. Intense green eyes stare out from above an unfortunately aquiline nose. His hair is buzzed short, nearly shaven, but for a layer of stubble continuing down into a three-day growth of patchy beard.
Of considerable interest are the bold red tattoos inked into his tanned skin, forming ferocious-looking but simple patterns. These are a legacy of the Reaver's cult.
His garb is simple-- a padded sleeveless vest, over which is worn one of the jagged, segmented breastplates wrested from a fallen demon warrior, worn with a tattered pair of jeans and boots. More metal armour is strapped on over his boots, up to his knees, though this looks home-made. Worn over the breastplate and vest is the ragged remains of a trail duster, the sleeves torn off, and his forearms are wrapped in (bloodied, thanks to his Art) bandages. A backpack, loop to hang the Cleaver, canteen and various other survival supplies round out his apparel.
History: Before the demonic invasion, there were always cults. Some were negative forces, erected to feed an individual's pocketbook and ego, but some were distinctly more positive: one group, of a strange latin name but referred to by the Reaver only as The Order, was an occult group wary of the arrival of the demonic hordes. The Reaver was trained as one of their enforcers-- a cultist-warrior with the unenviable task of tracking down and eliminating true warlocks: not bored college students playing at Satanism, but those few fools who genuinely would contact the forces of Hell.
The Order was not prepared for a full-scale invasion, and was unable to fight the demons directly. Many of their number retreated to the shadows, helping slaves escape and fugitives survive, but a few-- like the Reaver-- went out to join other factions, such as the Morte Infernus, to lend a hand as best they can.
As with many of the Order, the Reaver remembers-- and cares-- little about his past life. To him, combating the forces of Hell have always been paramount, even if the Order's methods are shady and the source of their powers dubious. The difference now is that instead of skulking at the fringes of human society, the Reaver can now hit Hell where it hurts-- in its own black heart.
If one ever inquires how he earned the title Reaver, Arkham tends to just grin, recounting a story that may or may not involve twelve demons, a rubber dinghy, a canned ham, and a lawnmower. It tells a lot of his character that he can remain in good humor even after the apocalypse.
Age: 33
Gender: Male
Skills: Warptime - The Reaver is capable of boosting his speed and reflexes to superhuman levels for short periods. To him, it is as if the world slows down around him. To others, it is as if he moves and reacts with inhuman haste.
Thaumaturgy - The Reaver has some mild ability in the art of blood magic. He can manipulate spilled blood, whether human or demonic, to form searing caustic projectiles, skewering spikes, and defensive shells. He can even expend concentration to prevent blood from leaving a bleeding person, but his abilities are not potent enough to heal or to control the blood within a living creature.
Possessions: Demontooth Cleaver - A large, heavy hand-and-a-half sword forged of steel and a demon femur, its blade composed of rows of serrated fangs ripped from fallen fiends. It is not unlike a macahuitl with demon fangs in place of obsidian fragments. The fangs glide their way up and down the heft of the weapon, almost like a reciprocating saw, allowing it to rend and tear through armour, flesh and bone alike.
Appearance: A tall, leanly muscular figure, the Reaver cuts the perfect image of a warrior, his body built for both explosive power and for great endurance. He was perhaps handsome once, with a strong jawline on a roughly rectangular face, but he has grown haggard and sunken with the years of battle. Intense green eyes stare out from above an unfortunately aquiline nose. His hair is buzzed short, nearly shaven, but for a layer of stubble continuing down into a three-day growth of patchy beard.
Of considerable interest are the bold red tattoos inked into his tanned skin, forming ferocious-looking but simple patterns. These are a legacy of the Reaver's cult.
His garb is simple-- a padded sleeveless vest, over which is worn one of the jagged, segmented breastplates wrested from a fallen demon warrior, worn with a tattered pair of jeans and boots. More metal armour is strapped on over his boots, up to his knees, though this looks home-made. Worn over the breastplate and vest is the ragged remains of a trail duster, the sleeves torn off, and his forearms are wrapped in (bloodied, thanks to his Art) bandages. A backpack, loop to hang the Cleaver, canteen and various other survival supplies round out his apparel.
History: Before the demonic invasion, there were always cults. Some were negative forces, erected to feed an individual's pocketbook and ego, but some were distinctly more positive: one group, of a strange latin name but referred to by the Reaver only as The Order, was an occult group wary of the arrival of the demonic hordes. The Reaver was trained as one of their enforcers-- a cultist-warrior with the unenviable task of tracking down and eliminating true warlocks: not bored college students playing at Satanism, but those few fools who genuinely would contact the forces of Hell.
The Order was not prepared for a full-scale invasion, and was unable to fight the demons directly. Many of their number retreated to the shadows, helping slaves escape and fugitives survive, but a few-- like the Reaver-- went out to join other factions, such as the Morte Infernus, to lend a hand as best they can.
As with many of the Order, the Reaver remembers-- and cares-- little about his past life. To him, combating the forces of Hell have always been paramount, even if the Order's methods are shady and the source of their powers dubious. The difference now is that instead of skulking at the fringes of human society, the Reaver can now hit Hell where it hurts-- in its own black heart.
If one ever inquires how he earned the title Reaver, Arkham tends to just grin, recounting a story that may or may not involve twelve demons, a rubber dinghy, a canned ham, and a lawnmower. It tells a lot of his character that he can remain in good humor even after the apocalypse.
Name:Tommy Corranus
Age:35
Gender: Male
Skills: (Earth moving and Metal shaping)
Possessions: Tommy carries a small amount of supplies to survive, as well as an enchanted Longsword, with the hilt wrapped up, and the metal formed specifically by Tommy himself after many hours of concentration and testing. Otherwise, he depends on his more unique skills to keep himself alive and killing others.
Appearance: Tommy is dressed simply, wearing darker military jeans, some armor which he had found on his wanders adorned with some holy symbols. Otherwise he is usually found carrying a bag to carry what he needs to survive. Underneath the pockets and odd armor, he has some burn marks from a few "magic tests", as well as his share of cuts and bruises from the brushes he has had with demons and the environment. Otherwise, his messy black hair, as well as his dark green eyes make him appear as human as one can be in the world today.
History: Tommy is what you could call a "Lucky" one, with the term luck being questionable in itself. Tommy managed to sneak away from the demonic captors and escape into the increasingly desolate cities and places where demons didn't much care for due to the lack of humans to "play" with. While Tommy isn't exactly a superior trained survivalist, there was enough left behind to survive on for many days....until a demon spotted Tommy grabbing a meal. With no weapons collected, Tommy slammed his fist into the ground, only for the ground to rise up in the shape of a spike, surprising both the demon and Tommy. Escaping the site of the demon, Tommy began to practice with any other element he could think of, with only the metals giving him any heed. Fire didn't seem to play nice when he caught ON fire, and water didn't respond any more than getting him wet.
With a renewed sense of vengeance for all those he had seen before him die, Tommy went out more actively, finding some armor and weapons scattered about from those less fortunate, and while not particularly hunting demons, he was no longer afraid of killing them. Armed with the earth under his feet, and the metals, he found a new fury to unleash upon the demons who had crushed the world he had lived in, and soon found a group of people willing to share in his journey of crushing demons like they had crushed them for years.
Tommy is willing to kill all in his path to find the way to get the things off the planet, and if he can't, he'll find a way to make a place to keep some of humanity safe from the bastards.
Age:35
Gender: Male
Skills: (Earth moving and Metal shaping)
Possessions: Tommy carries a small amount of supplies to survive, as well as an enchanted Longsword, with the hilt wrapped up, and the metal formed specifically by Tommy himself after many hours of concentration and testing. Otherwise, he depends on his more unique skills to keep himself alive and killing others.
Appearance: Tommy is dressed simply, wearing darker military jeans, some armor which he had found on his wanders adorned with some holy symbols. Otherwise he is usually found carrying a bag to carry what he needs to survive. Underneath the pockets and odd armor, he has some burn marks from a few "magic tests", as well as his share of cuts and bruises from the brushes he has had with demons and the environment. Otherwise, his messy black hair, as well as his dark green eyes make him appear as human as one can be in the world today.
History: Tommy is what you could call a "Lucky" one, with the term luck being questionable in itself. Tommy managed to sneak away from the demonic captors and escape into the increasingly desolate cities and places where demons didn't much care for due to the lack of humans to "play" with. While Tommy isn't exactly a superior trained survivalist, there was enough left behind to survive on for many days....until a demon spotted Tommy grabbing a meal. With no weapons collected, Tommy slammed his fist into the ground, only for the ground to rise up in the shape of a spike, surprising both the demon and Tommy. Escaping the site of the demon, Tommy began to practice with any other element he could think of, with only the metals giving him any heed. Fire didn't seem to play nice when he caught ON fire, and water didn't respond any more than getting him wet.
With a renewed sense of vengeance for all those he had seen before him die, Tommy went out more actively, finding some armor and weapons scattered about from those less fortunate, and while not particularly hunting demons, he was no longer afraid of killing them. Armed with the earth under his feet, and the metals, he found a new fury to unleash upon the demons who had crushed the world he had lived in, and soon found a group of people willing to share in his journey of crushing demons like they had crushed them for years.
Tommy is willing to kill all in his path to find the way to get the things off the planet, and if he can't, he'll find a way to make a place to keep some of humanity safe from the bastards.
Name: Bellona Valentine, or "Warsaw"
Age: 23
Gender: Female
Skills: Swordplay, some magic, including some healing powers
Possessions: Enchanted Sword, Demon-Flesh Gauntlet that lets her cast magic
Appearance: http://cartoonvsmanga.com/wp-content/uploads/2011/03/anime-girl191.jpg
That, but with more casual clothes, shorter hair, a bit less armor, no small knife, and a few small scars. ... So yeah, totally different.
Well, same sword and gauntlet, but yeah.
History: Bellona was living a quiet, boring life behind a desk... one she didn't like. She hated her job and her boss was a jerk, but she couldn't find another job, so she was stuck.
Then the demons showed up. Bellona couldn't really say she was happy about this either, but at least she was out from behind the desk, and it seemed the fencing classes she'd been taking would finally pay off, but she decided she'd have to wait until she was really ready. She kept moving around North America and practicing, since she'd heard bullets were useless. One day, she was found and attacked, and managed to defend herself reasonably well... until the demon started actually trying and gave her a nasty scar on her left arm. The demon was eventually killed by a man more intelligent and skilled than her, but he was injured and died as well.
She decided to take his impossibly big sword, which was amazingly light... she'd find out later that it was enchanted with this exact effect in mind, in addition to killing demons. She also found a book on him that taught how to craft weapons and armor from demon corpses. She used this knowledge to craft the gauntlet that hides and represses her festering wound to this day. She doesn't quite know why people started calling her Warsaw, but she thought it might have something to do with the man that died saving her.
Age: 23
Gender: Female
Skills: Swordplay, some magic, including some healing powers
Possessions: Enchanted Sword, Demon-Flesh Gauntlet that lets her cast magic
Appearance: http://cartoonvsmanga.com/wp-content/uploads/2011/03/anime-girl191.jpg
That, but with more casual clothes, shorter hair, a bit less armor, no small knife, and a few small scars. ... So yeah, totally different.
Well, same sword and gauntlet, but yeah.
History: Bellona was living a quiet, boring life behind a desk... one she didn't like. She hated her job and her boss was a jerk, but she couldn't find another job, so she was stuck.
Then the demons showed up. Bellona couldn't really say she was happy about this either, but at least she was out from behind the desk, and it seemed the fencing classes she'd been taking would finally pay off, but she decided she'd have to wait until she was really ready. She kept moving around North America and practicing, since she'd heard bullets were useless. One day, she was found and attacked, and managed to defend herself reasonably well... until the demon started actually trying and gave her a nasty scar on her left arm. The demon was eventually killed by a man more intelligent and skilled than her, but he was injured and died as well.
She decided to take his impossibly big sword, which was amazingly light... she'd find out later that it was enchanted with this exact effect in mind, in addition to killing demons. She also found a book on him that taught how to craft weapons and armor from demon corpses. She used this knowledge to craft the gauntlet that hides and represses her festering wound to this day. She doesn't quite know why people started calling her Warsaw, but she thought it might have something to do with the man that died saving her.
