Post by Arsmath Fireax on Nov 30, 2008 2:59:31 GMT -5
Name:: Arsmath Fireax
Age:: Unknown
Gender:: Presumably male
Species:: Unknown. (Anomalous being)
Crushes/Merital Status:: "Has no such interest."
Power/Ability:: Capable of regeneration, be it someone else or himself, though it is a long and arduous process.
Strengths:: Axe flails, musical talent with a Chello and Violin, resilience against most harmful things, such as being stabbed, shot, etc (Like if something's lobbed off, he can put it back on), and vast knowledge of medicine.
Weaknesses:: He's slow on picking up things, can't read emotions unless told blatantly, can't resist helping the misfortunate and weak, and loud/sour noises. If he stays still too long, he'll slow down even more and if he's too cold, he could shatter making it much harder for him to rebuild everything half as quickly as if he was warm. Or close to warm as he can get.
Allignment:: Hero
Appearance:: He's a large silver suit of armor with a picture of red angel wings on his back that seems to have worn off in the ages. His hands have sharp finger edges and are nothing to contend with. He carries his axe on his back, attached to a chain on his left hand so he can use it as a flail if desired. Overall, he looks worn, but his posture, music, and attitude clearly object to such notions. His helmet has a jaw and angry looking eyes with wings on the side and spikes that resemble hair that go down to where the middle of his neck is.
Personality:: He's kind and gentle most of the time, though his gruff voice and misleadingly evil laugh could say otherwise. He can be found humming old jingles to songs he barely remembers himself. He's socially awkward at times, and hates telling ignorant but curious people what he is. When he fights, he fights for a reason, which is usually to protect someone and will often come out of nowhere just to help someone out of a tough spot. He fights with vigor, but not for fame or glory, but purely to help.
History:: He was and is a suit of armor, and that's all he will ever be. Or so he says. He said one day he woke up in a blacksmith's and since then, roamed the earth to help people, though he was not a person (and of course, still isn't). What motivates him to do this? To be kind like this? Because nobody else would.
Because nobody else does, he does. Because nobody helps out, he does. Because nobody would risk their lives for a complete stranger, he does... Has for countless years... Will continue to. Nobody knows anything past these words, though he has been depicted in novels, stories, poems, and plenty of other things over countless centuries, there is no definite origin or indication as to what he does in his spare time. Just stories of heroics.
Codeword::fridged
Age:: Unknown
Gender:: Presumably male
Species:: Unknown. (Anomalous being)
Crushes/Merital Status:: "Has no such interest."
Power/Ability:: Capable of regeneration, be it someone else or himself, though it is a long and arduous process.
Strengths:: Axe flails, musical talent with a Chello and Violin, resilience against most harmful things, such as being stabbed, shot, etc (Like if something's lobbed off, he can put it back on), and vast knowledge of medicine.
Weaknesses:: He's slow on picking up things, can't read emotions unless told blatantly, can't resist helping the misfortunate and weak, and loud/sour noises. If he stays still too long, he'll slow down even more and if he's too cold, he could shatter making it much harder for him to rebuild everything half as quickly as if he was warm. Or close to warm as he can get.
Allignment:: Hero
Appearance:: He's a large silver suit of armor with a picture of red angel wings on his back that seems to have worn off in the ages. His hands have sharp finger edges and are nothing to contend with. He carries his axe on his back, attached to a chain on his left hand so he can use it as a flail if desired. Overall, he looks worn, but his posture, music, and attitude clearly object to such notions. His helmet has a jaw and angry looking eyes with wings on the side and spikes that resemble hair that go down to where the middle of his neck is.
Personality:: He's kind and gentle most of the time, though his gruff voice and misleadingly evil laugh could say otherwise. He can be found humming old jingles to songs he barely remembers himself. He's socially awkward at times, and hates telling ignorant but curious people what he is. When he fights, he fights for a reason, which is usually to protect someone and will often come out of nowhere just to help someone out of a tough spot. He fights with vigor, but not for fame or glory, but purely to help.
History:: He was and is a suit of armor, and that's all he will ever be. Or so he says. He said one day he woke up in a blacksmith's and since then, roamed the earth to help people, though he was not a person (and of course, still isn't). What motivates him to do this? To be kind like this? Because nobody else would.
Because nobody else does, he does. Because nobody helps out, he does. Because nobody would risk their lives for a complete stranger, he does... Has for countless years... Will continue to. Nobody knows anything past these words, though he has been depicted in novels, stories, poems, and plenty of other things over countless centuries, there is no definite origin or indication as to what he does in his spare time. Just stories of heroics.
Codeword::fridged
