French Roast
Lord of Altera
- Pronouns
- She/Her
French_Roast
Player name: godfather1
Character Name: Thalion Rissien
Race: Human body, Elven spirit (darkblooded, but controlled)
Gender: Male
Age: 25, however he looks older due to his heavily scarred face; his spirit is closer to 20
Height: 6' 2"
Weight: 160 lbs.
Eyes Colour: Green
Hair Colour: Dark brown
Skin Colour: Should be pale due to how often he has his hood up, but it stays rather dark in color due to all the scars that cover his face.
Identifying Marks: When you see his face, there's no mistaking it's him, unless you know someone else with that many scars. Also, his sword, which has a psychic "mark" seems to have its own presence, as part of his own heraldry, so when he draws his sword, you can tell it's him, because it will seem as if the sword has feeling, although it doesn't move or change in appearance at all (if anything, it's actually a weakness, because this will give it away if he is trying to hide his feeling of apprehension, defensiveness, nervousness, aggression, etc. and it gives the sword no extra power in combat.)
Brief Physical Description: You rarely see my face. I practically always have a deep hood and a grey mask on, leaving just an empty blackness where the upper part of my face should be. When you do see it, it is no less menacing than my "public" voice, which is low, perhaps even demonic in sound. My face is covered in scars, as well as my body. A brown and grey guise leaves no skin exposed, down to my gloved hands. My sword is unique in appearance, which shows who I am. A demon, a fiery angel, caresses a hilt crafted from netherbrick, and flames crawl up the handle, eventually met and suffocated by white tendrils, which also crawl up the blade. And when you hear that surreal, low hum, you know I'm getting impatient. I don't let things go. Ever. So if you see me attacking someone, don't interfere. I have my reasons, and you won't make anything better.
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Character backstory: Chapter 1: Early Demons
A child - an elf - cowering against the cabinet as his human father lays unconscious against the cabinet, and his mother shudders as the dark mist surrounds her and floods through her. She suddenly stops, and takes the knife, and turns to me. The dark mist floods out at me. That's the last thing I remember of my childhood. Because that's all there was. That elven child, that was my brother, Zraneth Corj. You may have known him. For the most part peaceful, and a dedicated servant of the light, like me - he could have used different methods though. They didn't exactly go well in Protaras. The man against the counter, that was my father. He killed himself by staring into the eyes of an enderman, still tormented when the same demon that possessed my mother to kill me drove him to madness from his decision to kill my mother to save Zran. Zran was the only one that survived. Some time ago, the demon returned to come after Zran, in the form of a gold and netherrack golem. Zran defeated it. I thought it ended there. But it didn't. The Demon's name is the Incunabula, the demon of fire and anguish. It was created by my great grandfather, whom became a master of dark magic in his later years. From that point on, the Incunabula would plague my family, striving off of causing us as much pain as possible. The Incunabula is the demon that haunts me now.
Character Name: Thalion Rissien
Race: Human body, Elven spirit (darkblooded, but controlled)
Gender: Male
Age: 25, however he looks older due to his heavily scarred face; his spirit is closer to 20
Height: 6' 2"
Weight: 160 lbs.
Eyes Colour: Green
Hair Colour: Dark brown
Skin Colour: Should be pale due to how often he has his hood up, but it stays rather dark in color due to all the scars that cover his face.
Identifying Marks: When you see his face, there's no mistaking it's him, unless you know someone else with that many scars. Also, his sword, which has a psychic "mark" seems to have its own presence, as part of his own heraldry, so when he draws his sword, you can tell it's him, because it will seem as if the sword has feeling, although it doesn't move or change in appearance at all (if anything, it's actually a weakness, because this will give it away if he is trying to hide his feeling of apprehension, defensiveness, nervousness, aggression, etc. and it gives the sword no extra power in combat.)
Brief Physical Description: You rarely see my face. I practically always have a deep hood and a grey mask on, leaving just an empty blackness where the upper part of my face should be. When you do see it, it is no less menacing than my "public" voice, which is low, perhaps even demonic in sound. My face is covered in scars, as well as my body. A brown and grey guise leaves no skin exposed, down to my gloved hands. My sword is unique in appearance, which shows who I am. A demon, a fiery angel, caresses a hilt crafted from netherbrick, and flames crawl up the handle, eventually met and suffocated by white tendrils, which also crawl up the blade. And when you hear that surreal, low hum, you know I'm getting impatient. I don't let things go. Ever. So if you see me attacking someone, don't interfere. I have my reasons, and you won't make anything better.
……………………………………………………………………………………………………………………
Character backstory: Chapter 1: Early Demons
A child - an elf - cowering against the cabinet as his human father lays unconscious against the cabinet, and his mother shudders as the dark mist surrounds her and floods through her. She suddenly stops, and takes the knife, and turns to me. The dark mist floods out at me. That's the last thing I remember of my childhood. Because that's all there was. That elven child, that was my brother, Zraneth Corj. You may have known him. For the most part peaceful, and a dedicated servant of the light, like me - he could have used different methods though. They didn't exactly go well in Protaras. The man against the counter, that was my father. He killed himself by staring into the eyes of an enderman, still tormented when the same demon that possessed my mother to kill me drove him to madness from his decision to kill my mother to save Zran. Zran was the only one that survived. Some time ago, the demon returned to come after Zran, in the form of a gold and netherrack golem. Zran defeated it. I thought it ended there. But it didn't. The Demon's name is the Incunabula, the demon of fire and anguish. It was created by my great grandfather, whom became a master of dark magic in his later years. From that point on, the Incunabula would plague my family, striving off of causing us as much pain as possible. The Incunabula is the demon that haunts me now.
