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Tucker Fyffe
"'You cannot expect wolves to become sheep.' 'No, but neither do the wolves have to be cruel to the sheep.'" -Christopher Paolini
"'You cannot expect wolves to become sheep.' 'No, but neither do the wolves have to be cruel to the sheep.'" -Christopher Paolini
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Name: Acerak
Age: 457
Gender: male
Breed: Fire dragon
Rider: N/A
Friends: N/A
Enemies/Rivals: N/A
Family: N/A
Powers: Fire-breath, able to use large amounts of magic to perform large feats, but cannot control when or where this magic is used (can only control how right before it is used)
Abilities: Flight, can see in the dark

Bio:
When he was younger, Acerak decided to leave his home in search of new sights. After a few years, when he returned to the place where he was born, he found nothing except the dead bodies of his parents and his siblings. Enraged, he stormed the nearest city and burned it to the ground. Once he was finished, he fell to the ground and cried among the ashes. Once he was finished, he left to find the tallest mountain he could find, and made his new home there.

Personality: Strong-willed, stubborn. protective of those he deems weaker than him (generally those smaller than him)
Likes: likes to collect gold, jewels, magical items, and artifacts from ancient kingdoms, seeing new things, showing off his strength
Dislikes: when people prey on the weak, loosing fights, when others insult him
Appearance: large, dark brown scales (see pic)
Size: 90 ft.
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Ok, I should probably know this by know, but I don't. Does "closed to whoever" mean that only they can join, or that they can't join an rp?

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(Closed to Saphira Snow)
(Open rp)

The dark figure stood near the outskirts of the city of Aheres, his back to the sunset as he watched travelers travel to and from the gate set into the large wall surrounding the city. Despite the cold that permeated the air, he seemed unaffected by it, only moving his hood back farther to help hide his face better. He didn't remember being like the travelers, being normal. He couldn't remember much of his former life. It was so long ago, he only had a small handful of memories left. He couldn't even remember his mothers own name.
None of that matters now, he thought, although there was a sad note to it. He wished that he could remember things like that, things from his former life. But if there was any way that he could remember, it wasn't known to him, and he didn't know where to find it.
None of that matters, he thought again, this time a bit more forcefully. He turned his back to the city, and wandered off into the forest that stood almost a mile from Aheres. There was a threat that needed to be taken care of. This was not the time to dwell on things he couldn't remember.

(Open rp)

The dark figure stood near the outskirts of the city of Aheres, his back to the sunset as he watched travelers travel to and from the gate set into the large wall surrounding the city. Despite the cold that permeated the air, he seemed unaffected by it, only moving his hood back farther to help hide his face better. He didn't remember being like the travelers, being normal. He couldn't remember much of his former life. It was so long ago, he only had a small handful of memories left. He couldn't even remember his mothers own name.
None of that matters now, he thought, although there was a sad note to it. He wished that he could remember things like that, things from his former life. But if there was any way that he could remember, it wasn't known to him, and he didn't know where to find it.
None of that matters, he thought again, this time a bit more forcefully. He turned his back to the city, and wandered off into the forest that stood almost a mile from Aheres. There was a threat that needed to be taken care of. This was not the time to dwell on things he couldn't remember.

Name: Straekar Crane
Age: 1,078 (he's undead)
Gender: Male, before he died
Race: Skeleton (human's)
Friends: N/A (they all died)
Enemies/Rivals: Pretty much anybody who sees him
Weapon: Likes to wield dual two 8-inch knives, has 8 other throwing daggers hidden on him, two small hand-crossbows, and a normal crossbow on his back.
Magic: able to manipulate elements (can throw fireballs and shoot twin streams of fire from his palms; can manipulate water to form shapes and use to transport/attack; can manipulate earth a little, but doesn't know much about earth magic because he doesn't practice it much; can use air to carry himself (but can't fly using it), can displace it to attack people)

Bio:
Straekar Crane doesn't remember much about his former life. Compared to how long he's "lived" as a skeleton, he was actually alive for less than the blink of an eye. He does remember, however, about his former Guild, The Fearless, a group of honorable soldiers and assassins that worked for a king who's name is lost to history. They were sent on a suicide mission to take down a kingdom far away. They were able to defeat the enemy kingdom, but his entire team was destroyed. Right before he was killed, he remembered a necromancer using his black magic to kill everybody in the room, including himself and the enemy king. Straekar was the only person to come back, and has lived on the run ever since, trying to keep away from a civilization that would destroy him if they learned of his existence. He still likes to help people, and if he must, he can disguise himself and enter society to find new ways to help people.

Personality: Quiet, likes to leave the talking to others. If pressed, he will often insult people without realizing it. He is rude, and often ignorant of other's customs.
Likes: Fighting, protecting others, his knives
Dislikes: When he or anybody he's protecting are insulted, fighting an enemy he can't defeat, loosing at anything
Appearance: Wears old, worn, leather armor and a tattered black cloak. Wears his long knives on his hips, and has his throwing daggers hidden through his clothes. Wears a low-brim hat to help cover his face.
Guild: The Fearless (now destroyed)

Name: Joseph Stirsk
Age: 34
Gender: Male
Race: Human
Friends: Not many
Enemies/Rivals: enemies of good, people who hurt others for no reason
Weapon: War-hammer, greatsword
Magic: healing wounds/diseases/poisons, dispelling minor magic within 20 ft.
Bio:
When Joseph was younger, his parents sent him off to work in the temple of Helm, the god of protection. Once he reached the age of 16, the city was attacked, the temple destroyed, and nearly everybody inside the city was killed. The invaders, instead of killing Joseph, cut out his tongue, so that he can no longer speak. The few survivors (one of which was Joseph) all joined together and pledged to become paladins, knights that fight for right and protected people from attacks like that. Joseph lost his parents that night, and vowed that he wouldn't let something like that happen to anybody else.

Personality: Calm, collected. Likes to protect his friends and those who aren't able to protect themselves.
Likes: Protecting others
Dislikes: Seeing others get hurt,
Appearance: Tall, keeps his suit of plate armor clean at all times. Brown hair, green eyes, and a scar that runs from the bottom of his jaw to the middle of his cheek.
Guild: Warriors of Helm

(Open rp, looking for more than one person, just be descriptive and use proper spelling/grammar, please)

Hitch loved running. The fire that entered his lungs as he ran was quickly dispelled by the frigid air that he breathed in. The snow around him was heavy and clung to his boots, but he didn't mind. It would slow down the soldiers chasing him more than it would him.
"He's getting away!" One of them yelled.
Hitch just laughed. "You'll have to be faster than that to catch me!"
He turned back to see how far behind his pursuers were getting, only to see one of them stop and pull a loaded crossbow from under his cloak.
"Blast," Hitch cursed, then dived forward to avoid being hit by the flying projectile. He rolled, jumped up, then continued running through the night. He turned a corner, passed by a building, then hid in an alleyway that bordered a tavern and an inn.
"This way! I think he's going this way!" The lead soldier yelled, and lead the troops right past the alley Hitch was hiding in.
"Idiot soldiers," Hitch grinned. "It'll take much more than that to keep me out."

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Name: Hitch Smithson

Age: 28

Gender: Male

Race: Human

Friends: N/A

Enemies/Rivals: Pretty much everybody who's ever met him

Weapon: Shortsword, two long daggers

Magic: Able to make himself invisible, but only for a short period of time; able to heal small wounds

Bio:
When Hitch was a child, his parents abandoned him, which forced him to live on the streets. He grew up stealing from others, and never had many friends. One day, he found out that he had the ability to use magic, which helped him steal the means to live. After a while, the he was able to escape from the city that had shunned him since he was a child, and has been wandering the land, looking for exciting things to do and more food to steal

Personality: Likes causing trouble, but generally likes helping people. He has a soft spot for his friends, and will sometimes show this, but will usually hide these "slip-ups" behind a carefree and indifferent attitude

Likes: causing trouble, making jokes

Dislikes: seeing his friends get hurt, cops

Appearance: Short black hair, dark, worn clothes. He wears an old brown cloak, and usually keeps his hood up to keep his identity a secret

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