Post by Baalthazar on Dec 18, 2014 16:39:03 GMT -5
:Name: Baalthazar Zeltenia
:Race: Makaio
:Gender: Male
:Age: 335
:Aura color: Dark Indigo
:Appearance:Baalthazar is practically never seen without his armor on. The Charred Darksteel plate armor that he wears is has subtle hints of an avian motif. The horns on the helmet, when viewed from the side, are actually patterned as if they were small wings. The front of the helmet doesn't protrude, but the center point is shaped similar to a bird's beak, too. The armor would normally look like a darkened silver, but it was intentionally charred and hardened on the surface, giving it a permanent darkened look.
Underneath the armor there is flesh and blood, though. A makaio with grey, ashen colored skin, a very strong and sturdy frame, and vibrant, golden blonde hair can be found once that armor is removed. He has piercing hazel eyes and looks to be about seven feet tall.
:Racial Traits:
Unlike other races Makaio only start with three techniques, but one of them is a Master level technique.
In addition Makaio have the Item Materialization technique for free.
:Techniques:
:Starting Planet: Earth
:History: Baalthazar's story can be explained simply in a few words. The Makaio sought a more refined means of combat from the barbarism of his brethren, and he was willing to go the distance to achieve those means. His first seventy years of life were aimless, simply following the way of life of those around him. He played by their rules and fought on their terms. He wasn't unsuccessful, and when it became clear to him that all they cared about was power, he abandoned that life and became a pariah of his own accord. The demons he'd left behind began to look at him with contempt and disrespect. When they approached him to fight he walked away or turned them down. Naturally there were some who didn't take no for an answer, but they were promptly sent on their way.
He was far from the strongest, but only the rabble bothered to challenge him because of his reputation. But eventually he discovered something that would open the door to a new goal and a new way of combat for himself. In the underworld there exists the ruins of a castle, a relic of the ruling of a past demon monarch. It was abandoned after the ruling monarch was defeated and his throne claimed by another who wanted a castle all their own. The bones of those who served the previous king still rested there, too. The grim, haunting visage of the darkened, ruined castle was something that put a shot of fear even into Baalthazar's heart. The Makaio would not be deterred so easily, though, and he progressed through the castle. Nothing in the place was alive, or so he thought. Makaio, for the most part, had little use for writing. Documentation in that era had meant nothing to them. The strength of your blows was their form of diplomacy. Even with a ruling faction things were still barbaric at best.
Because he had no library to visit to glean information on the best way to create his equipment, he was uncertain of how to best go about it. He entered the forge within the armory and found what he'd come for, though. Precious darksteel...and a very unusual sight. Though nothing lived in the castle, the forge was still burning so intensely that getting too close took Baalthazar's breath away. The flames were not normal orange and red as one might expect, either. They were intense dark purple and black. It was then that he saw it...a single, enormous, dusty tome within the armory. The first page bore a warning.
To all who may attempt to use these flames, be weary. They undying flames of a dark phoenix had been kindled in the ashes of our most well made charcoal. The resulting hellish flames not only sear the flesh, but sap the energy of all who get too close. The flames instill their hunger and heat within any weapon they forge, and it would be unwise to put such a thirsty, hot-blooded weapon in the hands of an inexperienced wielder. The phoenix is trapped within a massive crystal in the center of the forge. Be careful with placing metal in the forge to temper or shape it. If the crystal cracks, it could spell doom for you and everyone else in the room. Trapping the beast was no small task, either.
The scribblings didn't coincide with the finely written text in the rest of the book, but the warning was direct and clear. As he leafed through the book further he saw it. The methods for smithing that they had used, and the materials they preferred...it was all listed in this book. The methods, too, were outlined in detail. It would take practice to forge the perfect weapon and Baalthazar knew that. But seeing their diagrams and methods gave him ideas. More than just a weapon was needed. The knights of this era were feared, but now they had been forgotten. The fear was no more, as it was unlikely that any remembered them at all. Still, Baalthazar knew not of their past reputation. He only knew that their equipment was far beyond the common, garden variety darksteel equipment found in the markets and bazaars nowadays.
With all this in mind, he took the first ingot and went to work slowly perfecting the craft of smithing. The Makaio lived in that castle alone for what seemed like decades. Day after day, year after year. He began to lose track of time as he worked harder and harder on sharpening the edges, perfecting the smoothness of the armor, and hardening the weapons until he could no longer budge them with the hammer and anvil. A century passed. Baalthazar's obsession had him lost in his work. He lived on the foods that had been left to grow uninhibited in the castle's gardens.
By now Baalthazar had burned off more full beards than most humans ever get the chance to grow, and his face was worn from the heat. He looked to be in his mid twenties despite having lived over a hundred years. He finally believed he'd mastered the craft. After a hundred years of work in the forge countless piles of armor and weapons lay unused in the armory. But it was now that he felt truly capable of creating the weapons and armor he desired. He hadn't realized it, but constant exposure to those flames had changed him. He didn't feel their drain anymore. It felt almost inviting to work at the forge now. And so he did. This time he would have nothing less than perfection. He started with the weapon. He spent countless hours sitting with the metal in the forge, surging all the energy he could muster into the steel. He wanted this weapon to literally be a part of himself and he would infuse it permanently with his essence to do so. This was one of the final techniques explained in the blacksmithing tome in the armory. Bonding equipment to yourself so that only you can use it was the highest form of trust a soldier could put into their blacksmith. This sort of bonding normally happened after the smith had made equipment for a soldier and the soldier had become experienced in its use. But Baalthazar was both the smith and the soldier in this case.
Again he seemed to lose track of time. Decades flew by as he fed his essence into the weapon day after day. He began to feel resonance from the weapon as he continued to temper and infuse it. Most infusions only lasted for one year, but he had repeated the process again and again. Another fifty years passed until he had finished the weapon. It was a battle axe in its original design, but as he tested it out he found that it was far more. The weapon was living, and capable of becoming a variety of weapons. He could hear it speak very faintly when he held it. This wasn't explained in the book, and so he had nothing to go on but his own instincts. He was satisfied with the weapon, although for whatever reason it refused to become a sword. Spear, axe, dagger, crossbow...it became all these...but it would not shape itself to become a sword. He asked why and it simply answered, "You are not yet refined enough to master the sword."
It was an answer that he was not satisfied with, but who would know better than his own inner essence? He had to work on the armor for now. Baalthazar had no clue how long he'd been there. Time had slipped out of his grasp. He had no one to talk to for over a hundred and fifty years, but now he could talk to his weapon. If someone else did find him, they'd likely label him as insane, and with good reason. Still, his armor must be made.
After seeing how the weapon reacted to prolonged exposure to the flames and his energy, Baalthazar did the same with the armor. He crafted it piece by piece and spent an amount of time on each piece that was unknown to him. He then began to wear the full set constantly. Even in his sleep he wore the armor. The armor and weapon were one with him now, although the armor lacked a voice. It was connected to the weapon, forged from the same steel in the same fires and infused with the same essence. Although they were made at different times, the armor and weapon were one and the same with each other just as they were one and the same with the Makaio himself.
As his armor was completed and he could no longer feel the effects of wearing it against his mobility or comfort, he realized that the flames in the forge had long since died. The book he'd read was tattered and the text in it was so skewed that there was no way he could have ever read it. If that was true then how did he create this weapon and this armor? He still had the burns and singes on his body from the flames. He still had spent countless years here working the forge. Where did the flames go?
The crystal inside was in pieces. The phoneix had escaped...but where did it go? It then donned on him. The Phoenix's laugh echoed in his head, but it was not as malicious as you might have anticipated. "Phoenixes are reborn from their ashes. Those of darkness are no different. But you did not provide me with an egg to be reborn from, and since I had no body to form an egg out of ashes from, the only suitable place for me was in your arms and armor. The time you spent bonding with the equipment was actually spent bonding our essences to one."
Again Baalthazar was not satisfied with this explanation, but he had little choice but to accept it. The weapon sunk into his body as if it had fallen into a black hole, and the armored Makaio set out from the castle. As if to further confuse him, when he stepped through the last door of the castle he would no longer be in the underworld. A lush, green field and the smell of wildlife filled the nostrils of the Makaio as he had been transported to the planet of Earth in the mortal realm...
:Relationships:
N/A
:Starter Package:
200 Zeni
1 Senzu Bean
:Race: Makaio
:Gender: Male
:Age: 335
:Aura color: Dark Indigo
:Appearance:Baalthazar is practically never seen without his armor on. The Charred Darksteel plate armor that he wears is has subtle hints of an avian motif. The horns on the helmet, when viewed from the side, are actually patterned as if they were small wings. The front of the helmet doesn't protrude, but the center point is shaped similar to a bird's beak, too. The armor would normally look like a darkened silver, but it was intentionally charred and hardened on the surface, giving it a permanent darkened look.
Underneath the armor there is flesh and blood, though. A makaio with grey, ashen colored skin, a very strong and sturdy frame, and vibrant, golden blonde hair can be found once that armor is removed. He has piercing hazel eyes and looks to be about seven feet tall.
:Racial Traits:
Unlike other races Makaio only start with three techniques, but one of them is a Master level technique.
In addition Makaio have the Item Materialization technique for free.
:Techniques:
- Item Materialization - The technique used to create mundane items of varying size and complexity. The larger and/or more complex an item's design is, generally the more focus/time and/or energy will be required to produce it.
- (Master Level)Sardonyx - The living weapon and construct Baalthazar created using his own essence infused into materials he had forged together in the fires of the underworld. It has several abilities all its own, and can change to various types of weapons.
-Sardonyx has the ability to fly in all its forms, and can attack independently of Baalthazar's physical movements with the full strength of Baalthazar's physical blows.
-Sardonyx has the ability to meld into Baalthazar's body to repair or simply to be concealed and can be drawn out at the same speed Baalthazar could physically draw a weapon from its sheath/scabbard/etc.
-It can become a large battleaxe with blades appearing as wings, the point between the blades being like a sharp beak, and the three prongs at the bottom of the shaft being like talons. Axe form focuses on raw power and massively damaging single strikes. Generally a successful blow with an axe against a foe of comparable power can be a fight ending strike if it is a direct blow.
-It can also become a winged spear. The motif is similar to the axe, but the wings are smaller while the beak point is longer, wider, and thinner so that it can also slash in addition to piercing. Spears are designed for keeping close combatants at bay and piercing through enemy defenses.
-It has a dagger form, with the blade of the dagger being sixteen inches long with a handle half that length. The hand guard on the dagger appears as two short feathers and the blade itself is like a large, pointed pinion feather. Attacks with the dagger are rapid, light assaults designed to keep close combatants off balance or to slowly wear them down. Alternatively, they can be used for surprise attacks with devastating results if a precise, direct blow is stricken.
-It can become an arbalest, which is similar to a crossbow, but larger. It provides additional distance combat options aside from standard energy blasts. Unlike normal blasts that burn or explode, bolts fired from the arbalest do not explode. instead they have physical impact and respectable piercing power. The arbalest can be charged for up to one turn to build tension and give the shot in question more penetrating power or it can be rapid fired in barrages. - Charred Darksteel Armor - Not as far along in development as his weapon, but still powerful equipment that is bonded to him, Baalthazar's armor cloaks him in the shadows of the underworld and keeps his body temperature warm even in harsh weather. It doesn't protect from lack of oxygen or from the vacuum of space, however. The armor itself is as much a part of Baalthazar as his weapon, but he has only just formed the bond with it, so it lacks any additional special abilities aside from being a masterfully crafted suit of otherworldly armor. As it is part of the Makaio and shares his essence, the armor can allow his weapon, Sardonyx, to pass through it so that the weapon may meld with Baalthazar's body without any interference. In addition to providing protection of a high degree, the armor does not hinder his movements. It repairs when Baalthazar wills it, but at great expense of his energy. Replacing a single limb of coverage for the armor would take a full turn and roughly a third of Baalthazar's total energy.
- Obsidian Wings - Baalthazar's essence has been shaped in its own way as he draws on the power of his equipment as much as it draws on him. The materials used in their creation has begun to influence him. He has wings that he can retract into his body at will. Unlike flight by energy, he must flap his wings to fly, but this takes the same amount of stamina as flight by magic or energy, relatively speaking. The wings are large enough to be used in attacks like additional limbs, but only when on the ground. In the air they must flap in rhythm to maintain flight, preventing them from being used in attacks while he is airborne. The wings are like any of his limbs and can be destroyed, although the feathers function in the same capacity as his Charred Darksteel Armor to protect the flesh and bone of the wings.
:Starting Planet: Earth
:History: Baalthazar's story can be explained simply in a few words. The Makaio sought a more refined means of combat from the barbarism of his brethren, and he was willing to go the distance to achieve those means. His first seventy years of life were aimless, simply following the way of life of those around him. He played by their rules and fought on their terms. He wasn't unsuccessful, and when it became clear to him that all they cared about was power, he abandoned that life and became a pariah of his own accord. The demons he'd left behind began to look at him with contempt and disrespect. When they approached him to fight he walked away or turned them down. Naturally there were some who didn't take no for an answer, but they were promptly sent on their way.
He was far from the strongest, but only the rabble bothered to challenge him because of his reputation. But eventually he discovered something that would open the door to a new goal and a new way of combat for himself. In the underworld there exists the ruins of a castle, a relic of the ruling of a past demon monarch. It was abandoned after the ruling monarch was defeated and his throne claimed by another who wanted a castle all their own. The bones of those who served the previous king still rested there, too. The grim, haunting visage of the darkened, ruined castle was something that put a shot of fear even into Baalthazar's heart. The Makaio would not be deterred so easily, though, and he progressed through the castle. Nothing in the place was alive, or so he thought. Makaio, for the most part, had little use for writing. Documentation in that era had meant nothing to them. The strength of your blows was their form of diplomacy. Even with a ruling faction things were still barbaric at best.
Because he had no library to visit to glean information on the best way to create his equipment, he was uncertain of how to best go about it. He entered the forge within the armory and found what he'd come for, though. Precious darksteel...and a very unusual sight. Though nothing lived in the castle, the forge was still burning so intensely that getting too close took Baalthazar's breath away. The flames were not normal orange and red as one might expect, either. They were intense dark purple and black. It was then that he saw it...a single, enormous, dusty tome within the armory. The first page bore a warning.
To all who may attempt to use these flames, be weary. They undying flames of a dark phoenix had been kindled in the ashes of our most well made charcoal. The resulting hellish flames not only sear the flesh, but sap the energy of all who get too close. The flames instill their hunger and heat within any weapon they forge, and it would be unwise to put such a thirsty, hot-blooded weapon in the hands of an inexperienced wielder. The phoenix is trapped within a massive crystal in the center of the forge. Be careful with placing metal in the forge to temper or shape it. If the crystal cracks, it could spell doom for you and everyone else in the room. Trapping the beast was no small task, either.
The scribblings didn't coincide with the finely written text in the rest of the book, but the warning was direct and clear. As he leafed through the book further he saw it. The methods for smithing that they had used, and the materials they preferred...it was all listed in this book. The methods, too, were outlined in detail. It would take practice to forge the perfect weapon and Baalthazar knew that. But seeing their diagrams and methods gave him ideas. More than just a weapon was needed. The knights of this era were feared, but now they had been forgotten. The fear was no more, as it was unlikely that any remembered them at all. Still, Baalthazar knew not of their past reputation. He only knew that their equipment was far beyond the common, garden variety darksteel equipment found in the markets and bazaars nowadays.
With all this in mind, he took the first ingot and went to work slowly perfecting the craft of smithing. The Makaio lived in that castle alone for what seemed like decades. Day after day, year after year. He began to lose track of time as he worked harder and harder on sharpening the edges, perfecting the smoothness of the armor, and hardening the weapons until he could no longer budge them with the hammer and anvil. A century passed. Baalthazar's obsession had him lost in his work. He lived on the foods that had been left to grow uninhibited in the castle's gardens.
By now Baalthazar had burned off more full beards than most humans ever get the chance to grow, and his face was worn from the heat. He looked to be in his mid twenties despite having lived over a hundred years. He finally believed he'd mastered the craft. After a hundred years of work in the forge countless piles of armor and weapons lay unused in the armory. But it was now that he felt truly capable of creating the weapons and armor he desired. He hadn't realized it, but constant exposure to those flames had changed him. He didn't feel their drain anymore. It felt almost inviting to work at the forge now. And so he did. This time he would have nothing less than perfection. He started with the weapon. He spent countless hours sitting with the metal in the forge, surging all the energy he could muster into the steel. He wanted this weapon to literally be a part of himself and he would infuse it permanently with his essence to do so. This was one of the final techniques explained in the blacksmithing tome in the armory. Bonding equipment to yourself so that only you can use it was the highest form of trust a soldier could put into their blacksmith. This sort of bonding normally happened after the smith had made equipment for a soldier and the soldier had become experienced in its use. But Baalthazar was both the smith and the soldier in this case.
Again he seemed to lose track of time. Decades flew by as he fed his essence into the weapon day after day. He began to feel resonance from the weapon as he continued to temper and infuse it. Most infusions only lasted for one year, but he had repeated the process again and again. Another fifty years passed until he had finished the weapon. It was a battle axe in its original design, but as he tested it out he found that it was far more. The weapon was living, and capable of becoming a variety of weapons. He could hear it speak very faintly when he held it. This wasn't explained in the book, and so he had nothing to go on but his own instincts. He was satisfied with the weapon, although for whatever reason it refused to become a sword. Spear, axe, dagger, crossbow...it became all these...but it would not shape itself to become a sword. He asked why and it simply answered, "You are not yet refined enough to master the sword."
It was an answer that he was not satisfied with, but who would know better than his own inner essence? He had to work on the armor for now. Baalthazar had no clue how long he'd been there. Time had slipped out of his grasp. He had no one to talk to for over a hundred and fifty years, but now he could talk to his weapon. If someone else did find him, they'd likely label him as insane, and with good reason. Still, his armor must be made.
After seeing how the weapon reacted to prolonged exposure to the flames and his energy, Baalthazar did the same with the armor. He crafted it piece by piece and spent an amount of time on each piece that was unknown to him. He then began to wear the full set constantly. Even in his sleep he wore the armor. The armor and weapon were one with him now, although the armor lacked a voice. It was connected to the weapon, forged from the same steel in the same fires and infused with the same essence. Although they were made at different times, the armor and weapon were one and the same with each other just as they were one and the same with the Makaio himself.
As his armor was completed and he could no longer feel the effects of wearing it against his mobility or comfort, he realized that the flames in the forge had long since died. The book he'd read was tattered and the text in it was so skewed that there was no way he could have ever read it. If that was true then how did he create this weapon and this armor? He still had the burns and singes on his body from the flames. He still had spent countless years here working the forge. Where did the flames go?
The crystal inside was in pieces. The phoneix had escaped...but where did it go? It then donned on him. The Phoenix's laugh echoed in his head, but it was not as malicious as you might have anticipated. "Phoenixes are reborn from their ashes. Those of darkness are no different. But you did not provide me with an egg to be reborn from, and since I had no body to form an egg out of ashes from, the only suitable place for me was in your arms and armor. The time you spent bonding with the equipment was actually spent bonding our essences to one."
Again Baalthazar was not satisfied with this explanation, but he had little choice but to accept it. The weapon sunk into his body as if it had fallen into a black hole, and the armored Makaio set out from the castle. As if to further confuse him, when he stepped through the last door of the castle he would no longer be in the underworld. A lush, green field and the smell of wildlife filled the nostrils of the Makaio as he had been transported to the planet of Earth in the mortal realm...
:Relationships:
N/A
:Starter Package:
200 Zeni
1 Senzu Bean