• This site uses cookies. By continuing to use this site, you are agreeing to our use of cookies. Learn more.

Deceased Dummyplug, Character Profile.

dUMMY

Dead Man Walking
Retired Council Member
Dummyplug
Dummyplug
#1
Name: Dum'ni Plug (Dummyplug is a Tra'de(Common) corruption that Dum'ni has embraced)
Full Titles: Hunts Master, King(renounced)
Nickname/Alias: (Skraagborn, OOC nickname), Dummyplug and the shortened version of Dummy

KEY INFORMATION:
Age:
2000+ Appears 58.
Gender: Male
Race: Nakat
Social Status: King of the Sorrows, liked and hated by many.
Sexuality: Straight, Widower(Basically still taken)
Height: 5'3” (Short for a Nakat)
Weight: 130 lbs
Date of Birth: Unsure (See: Age)
Date of Death: Not applicable
Homeland: Verbali
Current Home: Though he has multiple residences, Dum'ni considers the Sorrows to be home. The Bastion of Immortality.
Estimated PvP Kill Count(Counts as IC): 624 kills (Initial estimate of 400 from Dummy's head collection. Additional kills have been tallied on.)


PHYSIOLOGY:
Build:
Muscular; trained, not innate.
Fur: Arctic White, Short
Eyes: Blue
Identifying Marks: His height and dress would be the most notable aspects of his appearance. Unseen marks include folded down ears(Scottish Fold) as a form of permanent damage done from wearing a smoothskin(Human) helmet for extended periods of time. No visible scars, though if he were to take off his armor and robes, anyone could clearly see large bruises and bald patches on him from the strapping of his armor wearing away at his body. Missing his left eye.
Appearance: Short.
Clothing: Black robes with a hood styled after his old Verbali Guard uniform, where the original opaque black eye coverings are replaced with dark purple eye coverings. The robes cover him completely, hiding his addorned feet and digitigrade legs. There is a slit from the waist down on the back of the robes for his tail to fit through in times of needed extra balance or for comfort in times of privacy. Where formerly his guard uniform held padded armor he now uses diamond armor under the robes. This is to compensate for the increased chance of physical injury that comes with his preferred close quarters combat style(Explained in backstory).
Weaponry: Close quarters weaponry, favoring axes(Explained in backstory, suffice to say that though formally trained with ranged weapons, he prefers to be able to hear his targets last breath to help satisfy his bloodlust).
Prized Possessions: A skull of which was given to him by Skraag. One small pouch of ash. A messenger bird won in a pearl diving contest. A horse named Plaguestrider.
Hygiene: Less than average considering he hardly ever disrobes.
Voice: Average for a Nakat. That is to say that his normal voice has no incredibly outstanding qualities as to warrant a unique description. His voice is however very flexible and he has come to be able to imitate the lows, highs, grit and nasal qualities of the diverse people he meets. He practices in private, of course. ADDENDUM: After much practice Dummyplug has mastered a new voice:

DUM'NI PLUG'S DIAMOND EQUIPMENT:

From: Formal Legacy Character List

Plate armor, "Skraag's Vesture"
Sword, "Tongue of Skraag"
Battle Axe, "Skraag's Embrace"

+The equipment, while metallic is not alike any other metals found in the current world. The pattern is that of several different textures overlapping in such a way that seems similar to the patterns one finds on shattered diamonds and obsidian. Blue and yellow light scintillate from the material.

+The armor has some of the physical properties of modern steel as far as combat is concerned and is half it's average weight. The armor does make sound, but it is akin to a lower pitch of regular armor clanking. (Not CLANKCLANKCLANK, more so clank clank).

+These can be worn under robes or items that conceal it, but it is noticeable.

+Armor can be repaired by a skilled smith.

+Armor has +3 def, weapons have +2 att


QUALITIES AND FLAWS:
Strengths:
Extreme patience and powerful dedication and determination to attain his goals. His creativity has also given him a silver tongue.
Fears: Infinite death. A soul consumed by magic.
Weaknesses: His hearing is not quite as heightened as other Nakam due to his folded ears. This in not to say that his hearing has suffered horribly, it is only slightly lessened.
Intelligence: Average intellect. He focuses more on thinking out of the box and straining to find creative or cunning ways to attain his goals.
Languages: Verba, Common(Tra'de), Elven(Forest; taught to him by his daughter, Dorothy)
Profession: He would not call himself a professional of any field, only because he views himself as jobless. However, should he have to pick, he would say that killing people was his profession.
Skills: Cartography, tracking, stealth and combat.
Quirks/Fidgets: His tail is kept curled around his left thigh except for when he thinks he is alone or when he desperately needs more balance. When in deep thought he will tap his teeth together rhythmically.


ETHICS AND MOTIVATIONS:
Personality:
Quiet, he attempts to distance himself from most people he meets, knowing he may be forced to attack them. Well mannered; he tries to be polite, proper and dignified with every interaction. He rarely does "small talk", preferring to only speak of the most important of matters, and only when necessary. He is very much so a "big picture" kind of person.
Old/Repressed Personality: Affable, especially after drinking, which also causes heavy amounts of affectionate name calling/mockery as a form of breaking down barriers to become more personally connected with someone. This often serves to bolster ones self esteem, not degrade it, in that it takes insecurities and turns them into fun/unique identifying traits to be celebrated and not seen as flaws.
Hobbies/Interests: Gardening, Literature, Theater.
Religion or Cults: Avid worshiper of Skraag.
Alignment: Neutral Evil. (Self-serving, not above dirty deeds to attain personal goals)
Short Term Goals: Repair the ward on the planar infinity to protect the slumbering dead.
Long Term Goals: Become blessed with undeath through divine means. Bring about the blessing of undeath to be available for all.

RELATIONS:

Loved: Dorothy Plug, his daughter.

Trusted:
Michcat Tzemik, she seems to be the only one I can truly place my faith in, at least when it comes to trust. I must admit, when I first learned of her, I planned to kill her for her use of magic. But she opened my eyes, and in doing so, instilled fear in me. She is a confusing woman, I have seen her temper flare, but never at myself. Does she trust me? I am not certain. She has seemingly placed her life in my hands. Was it trust?? Did she simply know me too well?? Or perhaps she is more powerful than a I know. An intriguing woman, of that there can be no doubt.

I_am_Wake Gromm (Deceased): I didn't know you long, though I could have, though I wish I did. Cheerful, gregarious, well manner, affable; you helped me remember who I used to be and relive that life for a few moments. Thank you, sleep soundly dear friend.

Befriended:
The Greyling.

Rossu Syviil: A strange girl. Productive, reliable and determined but a strange girl nevertheless. She must be the best member of the GoI that I have recruited, her devotion is commendable but this seems to lead her to a greed for summoning Skraag. She wants to learn, I cannot fault her for that. But summoning is not something to be treated flippantly and certainly not something to be done often due to how taxing it can be on Skraag. She has developed her own form of ritual for summoning that seems . . a touch gruesome. She reminds me of myself when I was first summoning Skraag. I like to believe that I can trust her, but I will have to watch as she grows a little more.

Liked:

The Living Ghost Cloud, I have heard him call himself a homunculus, he seemed ashamed to admit such. Though I am not entirley sure what it means, I assume that he is artificial in one way or another. Could he be a fully constructed man? And if so, does he have a soul? Regardless, he rescued my daughter from the hands of the Corruption. For that, I am in his debt. He must be quite strong or skilled in some way to be able to escape the Corruption. Especially with a child in tow. He seems a pleasant sort. There must be more to him than I know.

Raindes(For shouting Skraag whenever they meet(Deadcakes)), The Styles brothers(His favored merchants, even though they overprice everything) Tuwit(Old acquaintance), Tybalt, Somnastra, Dayter, Adiella, Sheila (though she is unruly).

Neutral:

Tobias Welsh Arthur Ashenfell: A polite young man, looking to find out who his father was. He offered me a charred book which held a strange writing. It spoke of a Great Matrix, Perhaps Evelyn will know more.
Unsure of:

Wary of:

solus Ashna: I'm unsure if this woman is a fool or truely evil. She knows the risks that await people in death, and yet she encourages them not to fear it. Perhaps she truely does want all to be consigned to oblivion. I must trample her efforts. She does not seem to fear me like the others. I assume she has put faith in the one they call Grey to protect her and her goals; but is he a threat? Even if he was in his prime?

Naelwyn Naelwyn, a wizard. He seems to possess some number of untold powers. But I have watched his feats, and I have remembered them. I have seen him fail on more than one occasion. He also seems to hold a great anger or fear toward the idea of a god of time. When he heard mention of it he acted brashly, drawing a golden sword. Something tells me he didn't intend cut with it, but to deal damage in some other way. I want to think that he is good intentioned, but even so, with enough power even a small mistake can have deviating repercussions. I think he has spent too much time alone with his studies, gathering power and thinking up ever more clever means of destruction. I know of no students of his, perhaps he is jelous of the position he holds.

Baron Vorar, a mechanical creature. I know little of it's personality, quizzical may be the best word to describe it. It is very powerful, I have seen it go head to head with a god. Though I do not believe that it holds any ill will towards me or my efforts, I must make sure that I am able to defend against it should it turn it's steely gaze in my direction. It holds a green fire in it's belly, for what purpose I do not know. What does it eat?

Afraid of:

Disliked:
Legion Legion, a fool of a wizard to be sure. He possesses great power and little common sense. When a town was occupied by elemental ambassadors from the Planar Infinity he simply attacked them. His judgment is not to be trusted. In addition, he seems to harbor a loathing for the gods. A resentment of them, saying they killed his Immortal Kings. Interesting, but what can he do?

Hated:

List of people who have been shown his race in one form or another:
Tzemik
Dorothy
Vhaejek
Er'een
Vukrell
Gromm

Born and raised to a hunter family in the trading port town of Verbali, Dum'ni was a young cub much like any other. He laughed, played and knew of his coming responsibilities with the onset of adulthood. Though his parents were simply hunters, he had ambitions to be a protector. Someone who would keep his dear home and friends safe. Naturally, when he was 10, the customary age for many Nakam to begin their education in the field of their choice(Though strongly expected to continue along their parents path) he began studying to become a Verbali Guard. It is during these studies that he learned about the Razing of Kase’d by Teshvadiik Mages. Until now, he had not known of magic truly existing. He was taught that magic was fueled by the consumption of ones ancestor spirits. He thought nobody would ever do this. {Why destroy anyone's everlasting rest?} He thought to himself. And the idea of magic was promptly dismissed. However, hearing about the truth of the matter, he was outraged, filled with indignation. Much the same as his classmates.


At 13 his physical training began. And he was paired with another young Nakat named Hetval. She was quiet and stoic, only slightly taller than himself. Throughout training their friendship grew, and the pair soon became inseparable, Hetval only taking companionship from Dum'ni and no others. Dum'ni's parents were quite pleased with his new “friend”. The same could be said for Hetval's parents. The two could see what their elders were thinking, it was written all over their faces. But Dum'ni and Hetval had resolved that their friendship was, however, nothing more than that.

They trained hard for the years to come, learning all about long ranged combat and how to utilize stealth to get the jump on an opponent. The pair of friends had one notable training exercise in which stealth was required to subdue a couple of instructors who were on patrol, without them ever knowing where the students attacked from. At the start of the exercise Dum'ni and Hetval looked at each other and nodded, both knowing what the other had planned. They dawned their training uniforms(styled after the Verbali Guard uniform) and plotted the instructors most likely course. They snuck ahead and hid in the trees for an ambush. Everything was going perfectly, the instructors were about to pass below them and they would strike with their slings(Rubber pellets, yes they still hurt) as they passed. But as the patrol walked below them Dum'ni lost his footing on the branch they were perched upon and began to fall. Hetval quickly reached out and caught him by his hood, his under-mask pulled off in her hand, ripping the opaque eye coverings off of the mask and revealing an embarrassed face to the laughing instructors below. Despite this embarrassing failure the two ended training with high marks and were gladly accepted into the ranks of the guard.

They lived together and life was normal, though their jobs were dangerous, they were happy. In their leisure time they would often talk to traders about the world they called "Altera" where the Northern Kingdoms reside. Dum'ni was fascinated with the other world and it's strange “Gods”, he was always excited to learn more about it, especially anything concerning Skraag, the god of undeath, whom Dum'ni could only assume was bringing ancestors back to life in new bodies through “Divine” means. Hetval hinted at one day traveling to Altera for a vacation. Dum'ni, of course, liked this idea very much.


Years past by until Dum'ni and Hetval were called upon to do guard duty for a mining caravan. Though they were not a couple, as per norm of guards called to protect caravans, they were an exception considering their strong bond. Caravans had recently been turning up empty handed, saying they had been attacked and looted. The caravan leader the pair was assigned to protested the escort of Dum'ni and Hetval while their superiors insisted that they would be more than adequate. It was strange.

The escort had gone smoothly without event, until the trip back from the mines. The caravan leader wanted to take an “alternate route” saying it would be faster. The rest of the caravan agreed saying that the path has been taken before many times, that it was safe. Dum'ni and Hetval had good reason to turn up their noses at the proposition. They already had a safe and regulated course set, there was little reason to try to save time, especially at the risk of safety. The caravan, however, had no intention of going along with the scheduled route. “I want to get out of here as fast as possible” and “You guards and your safety, we're the ones that walk these routes, we should know of the better paths more than you anyhow.” They would say. Dum'ni and Hetval reluctantly agreed that they must protect the caravan, even though it had seemingly turned against them.

A few hours down the road the caravan came to a halt. “An unscheduled rest,” said the caravan leader “my feet are weary”. A few men called Dum'ni over to the other side of the caravan to talk. After only a moment of chit-chat Dum'ni heard the scream. “Betrayers!” It was Hetval. Dum'ni began to sprint to the other side of the caravan, the men that pulled his attention away tried to grab him and hold him, but their grip was too loose. As Dum'ni rounded the caravan he saw Hetval, lying on the ground, the axe of a tribal warrior in her back. The caravan leader stood side by side with a native warrior. They had been lying all along! There were no attacks on the caravans! They had been trading the goods away to the natives in order to line their pockets! Quickly, Dum'ni was jumped on from behind by another tribal warrior. But he was already alert, they wouldn't catch him by surprise. He swung the warrior around and picked the axe from his attackers belt. Now in front of him, held between himself and the caravan leader, he dragged the serrated edge of the axe across his assailant's throat. This was his first ever close quarters kill. Though having killed many before, he was never close enough to feel the life slip away from his victim. As the warriors last breath was loosed from his split esophagus, something inside Dum'ni clicked. And he heard a voice from inside himself that he never knew was there.


This is what I want.


When Dum'ni came to, everyone was dead. Save for Hetval, still lying on the ground, bleeding out from her wound. Dum'ni rushed to her, got on his knees and picked her head up into his arms. The light in her eyes was fading fast. She reached up a single arm, pulled back her hood and loosened her collar to reveal a pair of eye coverings sown under her shirt. They were the eye coverings from Dum'ni's old training uniform.

Hetval whispered quietly “I have always loved you.”


Dum'ni tore back his hood. “Why would you say that only now?” said Dum'ni, tears welling in his eyes. “We could have been together all this time!”


“We were,” Hetval's hand brushed Dum'ni's cheek. “my Satob.”


Hetval's hand slumped on her chest, and she closed her eyes for the last time.


“My Satob.” Dum'ni whispered to her as she slipped away.


The bodies were burned and their ashes spread on the site of the battle. Save for one pouch of ash that Dum'ni kept, so he could be with Hetval still. He was troubled by the voice he heard from within him at the start of the battle, another part of him he never knew existed. It has only grown stronger since it was revealed and Dum'ni can feel it pulling on his desires. He now has an insatiable urge to kill, the Verbali Guard will not be happy with his new addiction.

{There is no place for me here now.} He thought to himself. {Where shall I go?}


Dum'ni spent the night on the trail back to Verbali, his teeth clicking in his deep thought. He reflected back on the Teshvadiik mages that he learned about in training. {Soul eaters.} He thought. Their mere existence meant the inevitable destruction of his ancestors. If he dies he may well be consumed by them too. He remembered the gods the traders would tell him about.


{Skraag, he has the power to seal away a soul in an undying body, safe from consumption. He can save me.}


Though unsure of whether Skraag was real, Dum'ni knew he had to explore this option. He picked up the pouch of Hetval's ashes from his belt and felt it's weight in his hand.

{Perhaps, if I hurry, he can save you too. . . Perhaps he can save us all.}



Dum'ni said no goodbyes when he returned to Verbali. He gathered his things and used his connections with his trader friends to get a ride to Altera. While on the boat, he leaned over the railing and plucked his whiskers. Casting them away to drift to their own new shores.


-Dummy enters the Northern Kingdoms-
Concerning Dummy's whispering voice and urges to kill:

He knew it was coming for him, the curse of life, Shalherana's failure. . .

Dum'ni's chest stung like an arrow pierced his heart. The pads of his feet grew wet from perspiration. Leaning on the walls of his home for support, he stumbles out the doors and into the meadow he had sown so many years ago. The colors of the wildflowers streaked by him in his blurring vision. With a strained cough he falls on his shoulder. The thud of his body echos through his dizzied mind. His breaths are short, as if the air in his mouth is stolen from him before he can fill his lungs. He rolls onto his back, sneering at the sky. His fingers dig deep into the dirt like roots, filling his grasp with cool soil. A low growl ripples the ground beneath him as the pain in his chest pulses through his body. His breaths grow shorter.

and shorter

and shorter

He knew it was ok. All things die. It's ok.

It's ok.

INSPIRATIONS: Vampire Hunter D, Yoda, Darth Vader, Various Swedish metal bands, Death from Terry Pratchet's books.

My in-game name is: Dummyplug
 
Last edited:

dUMMY

Dead Man Walking
Retired Council Member
Dummyplug
Dummyplug
#13
I'm not entirely sure what the rule is regarding this, but I'm pretty sure that from now you age more normally.
I'm not entirely sure myself. I know I have played the same character consistently since I began playing on HW, so that would make me eligible for legacy rules, or at least I think it would. It would be fun to have a 2000+ year old character, not gunna lie. But I'll have to defer to @Naelwyn to lay down the rules on this.
 

Naelwyn

Non sum qualis eram
#14
I'm not entirely sure myself. I know I have played the same character consistently since I began playing on HW, so that would make me eligible for legacy rules, or at least I think it would. It would be fun to have a 2000+ year old character, not gunna lie. But I'll have to defer to @Naelwyn to lay down the rules on this.
Yeah, Yoda is right, but characters created X time ago are abnormally old. Those characters are now aging normally, but it's as though all those interim years don't affect their physiology with respect to age.
 

dUMMY

Dead Man Walking
Retired Council Member
Dummyplug
Dummyplug
#15
Yeah, Yoda is right, but characters created X time ago are abnormally old. Those characters are now aging normally, but it's as though all those interim years don't affect their physiology with respect to age.
Hmm, hmm, let me see if I understand this correctly. The character can be 2000 years old and look 30, BUT, with the new aging rules, in 70 years of in-game time they are most definitely dead of old age?