J_Wolf

MC Name: InvasiveTentacle

Character's Name: Corvus Selune

Character's Age: 42

 

What feat(s) will you be learning?

         Chi Scribing

 

Teacher's MC Name:

         LimpChimps

 

Teacher's RP Name:

         Jiangu Vincrute

 

Do you agree to keep Story updated on the status of your feat app?:

         Yup

 

Have you applied for this feat on this character before, and had it denied? If so, link the app:

         No

 

Are you aware that if this feat is undergoing an activity trial and fails said trial, that you will lose the feat? And that if it is apart of the Lore Games, it might drastically change soon?:

         Yup

 

MC Name: InvasiveTentacle

Character's Name: Corvus Selune

Character's Age: 38

 

Character's Race:

         Snow Elf

 

What magic(s) will you be learning?

         Sun Chi

 

Teacher's MC Name:

         Stargazerology

 

Teacher's RP Name:

         Qing Long

 

Do you have a magic(s) you are dropping due to this app? If so, link it:

         Nope.

 

Do you agree to keep Story updated on the status of your magic app?:

         Yup.

 

Are you aware that if this magic is undergoing an activity trial and fails said trial, that you will lose the magic? And that if it is apart of the Lore Games, it might drastically change soon?:

         Yup.

 

{field_name_147}

         {field_value_147}

If I may...

This is what I find slightly... confusing....

 

By simply copying and pasting text, and/or paraphrasing it, you’re able to play a creature that can turn invisible at-will, overhear RP dialogue and see RP actions, and then return to form so they can give this information to another character...

A type of ghost.

In fact, I’ve seen it happen...

 

Somebody playing a ghost, being invisible for upwards of an hour, just to become visible and say something that made an RP situation worse.

It seems like... permissible meta... 

 

...but... doing something like exposing yourself to Chi, and meditating... requires a teacher...

 

I understand that magic is created in particular to race, and is created to be difficult to learn for a novice, but it seems like it’s harder to be able to manipulate the energy in your own body than it is to play a creature who can see and hear everything without anybody being able to interact with them.

 

Being able to over-hear two people planning a murder, without either of them being able to “Know” that you’re there... and then becoming visible to tell somebody else.
Having the ghost witness a murder, and then wait for the monks to bring the victim back, and tell them who killed them, and where.

Permissible meta... *shrug* Sorry... that’s what it is... and I have SEEN it abused in that way.

 

...and while no RP example is required to play this type of creature, allowing for abuse of the creature’s power, RP is required in-game to make sure you know how to use a... rather simple form of ‘magic’ that exists naturally in the world, by all accounts, on the Wiki.

It seems to me that the use of magic is taken far more seriously than the use of creatures who can be played in a broken way.

 

I’m NOT asking for approval with this, I’m simply stating confusion over why it’s easier to be a virtually unkillable ghost who vanishes for a week OOCly when struck down three times... and can turn invisible at will... than it is to find a Chi source, take it in, and meditate... only allowing a moderate increase in speed and strength internally.

 

I would ask that you either adjust the creature application to require an RP example, or remove the need for teaching simple magics like this.

The system is... greatly unbalanced...

 

...to add...

If an Elf wanted to learn Shamanism, by this logic, they would need to find a teacher, likely an Orc, as it is their art, just to teach them a skill that is mostly used in RP instances only...

...but a ghost can pop into existence just to rat somebody out, and not face any consequences for it.

Killing them won’t do any good, because they can’t be PKd without their own consent, and locking them up won’t work, either... so...

Why make it easier for somebody to play this type of creature, than to manipulate the energy in their own body after 20 years of study, research, and meditation?

 

 

---

 

I posted this here because story team hasn’t responded after asking a few of them about it.

The only option is to ask the void, and hope for... something...

 

*shrug*

It was my understanding that you could teach yourself some low forms of magic, based on what I was told in Discord, but that’s alright.

Now I know what to expect.

Thank you.

No Application present.
Character has spent most of his life in isolation studying every book he could find, and training in martial arts.
IG, he meditates constantly, and is well aware that he himself can’t use magic like most, being a Snow Elf.
He is from a Tribe who have passed down their combat arts over generations, and as a book-nerd, would either have read about the process, or been shown to him by his Tribe.
With that, he is obsessive when it comes to learning, and has written 3 small combat scriptures that do NOT include the use of Chi, which have been used in RP. Combat knowledge he and last 3 generation have put together.
(Links available on request)

MC Name: InvasiveTentacle

Character's Name: Corvus Selune

Character's Age: 34

 

Character's Race:

         Snow Elf

 

What magic(s) will you be learning?

         Minor Chi Manip. (Moon)

 

Teacher's MC Name:

         N/A

 

Teacher's RP Name:

         Corvus (Self) - Training and Meditation is what he does in his spare time.

 

Do you have a magic(s) you are dropping due to this app? If so, link it:

         Nope.

 

Do you agree to keep Story updated on the status of your magic app?:

         Yup.

 

Are you aware that if this magic is undergoing an activity trial and fails said trial, that you will lose the magic? And that if it is apart of the Lore Games, it might drastically change soon?:

         Yup.

 

{field_name_147}

         {field_value_147}

Updated.

14 minutes ago, Keefy said:

I don’t want to be that guy but the backstory of the characters transformation is completely unrequired here. I need you to highlight and explain to me the lore of the CA you are applying for.

 

I don’t understand the instruction you’re giving...

Do you mean... a backstory of the cactus creature?

...or just a paraphrasing of the Epi lore?

MC Name: InvasiveTentacle

Character's Name: Aarin Rodgers

Character's Age: 36

 

Character's Original Race (N/A if not applicable):

         Human

 

Transformed form:

         Epiphyte

 

Creator's MC Name:

         N/A

 

Creator's RP Name:

         N/A

 

Briefly explain the lore behind this construct or creature:

 

Epiphytes are Descendants who are re-created in the image and physique of the a plant that began in the Fae Domain. These plants take people in a strategy of survival, creating an almost ethereal bond with the Descendant to protect the plant in question.

Their appearance then matches that of the plant, and in Aarin’s case, a cactus, and they have a bond more powerful than most others. 

The Epiphyte can feel the pain of the plant, and will always know it’s exact location.

Epiphytes go through a rebirth process a few times in their lifetime, and can produce mundane seeds of their plant type.

One Fae seed is used to move the plant, which kills the old one to be replanted.

Epiphytes can communicate with their plant partner, even though they have no abilities resembling Druidism. If blighted, the Epiphyte will be driven to insanity until they are healed of it.

If separated from their plant for an extended period of time, the Epiphyte will come to lose its mind in search of it.

 

REQUESTED RED LINES

         

MUSIC

 

Travelling across a broad, open desert, a noble family’s caravan treads across dunes of sand heated by the mid-day sun.

Leading, were two horses riding abreast, carrying one man each.

The front-left horse carried a human of impressive proportions; Aarin Rodgers. Being born the bastard child of a northern family, his hearty lineage, and the randomness of genetics, granted him a height of nearly 7’. His life spent training, wrestling, and working beneath his master, allowed him to weigh in at just under 260 pounds. His body was covered top to bottom in thin fabric robes, save for his waist and groin.

Around his waste was a a braced belt, wrapping around most of his midsection, groin covered by wrapped cloth, akin to a loincloth without the risk of exposure. Pale green eyes scanning the landscape, his scarred, bald shaven head, reflecting the light in his sweat. He had no weapons visible on his person, as his ‘combat’ involved his bare hands, grappling, and submissions. Getting his -hands- on somebody.

 

To his right was a man adorned in chain-armor, and not much else. It was too hot to wear his gambeson, or even his boots.

A broadsword was strapped to his back, and a rapier on his left hip.

 

“’ey, Aarin!” the chain-mailed man would shout. “How much longer?”

Aarin, in his usual mute way, shakes his head, as to say ‘you ask too much’ without speaking.

 

Behind the pair was a carriage containing Aarin and his companion’s noble masters.

A family that was made rich on the spoils of war and conquest.

The father and lord, Aarin’s direction master, Richter “The Lion” Gideon, his wife Sebille, and their two sons. One named Aarin after the mute bodyguard that had been with them for most of the original Aarin’s life, and the youngest, McEnley, named for one of Richter’s siblings.

Behind the cloth-covered carriage were two more horses, carrying two more guards.

 

“Soon...” Aarin says in a gruff tone, keeping his pale green colored eyes forward.

Reaching to his left hip, the large man would pull a rather large jug of water from a sling on his left hip, using right hand to remove the cork before taking a swill, and replacing it.

 

“I’d like to get there before the war -ends-, big guy.” the 2^nd horseman sounds.

 

Aarin just huffs through this nose and keeps riding...

 

...and without warning, both lead horses stop, seeming to become skittish.

 

“Woah, there...” the talkative swordsman sounds to his horse, grabbing firmly on the reigns as the small caravan stops dead.

It wasn’t long before the horses drawing the carriage start to fidget where they stand, as well, braying and swaying their heads from side to side, as if trying to break lose from the leather that bound them to the cart... and then the back two horses.

 

“Rodgers!” an older male voice is heard from within the carriage. “What the hell is going on out there?!”

 

“Unknown....” Rodgers says over his right shoulder toward the carriage. “Stay.” he says flatly. Simply... a man of -very- few words.

 

Aarin took right foot out of stirrup, swinging it behind the horse’s head and using the momentum to land in the sand on the same foot, left foot pulled from its stirrup mid-motion. Sand from where his bare feet landed kicked up and brushed back along the dune with a small gust of wind, joining the other millions of grains in the hill.

 

His battle-buddy, the bladed horseman, steps down from his horse as well, scanning the landscape.

 

“I don’t see anything, Gigantums...” he says cutely, sarcastically picking on Aarin, pretending to be his ‘partner’.

 

“Silence...” Aarin says, looking about the front-left side of the landscape that stretched out before them. . .

 

---

---

---

 

MUSIC II

 

The scene that played out did so in slow motion in the mind of Aarin Rodgers...

 

Pillars of sand reaching up at least 10 feet erupted on all four corners of the caravan, almost in unison. As the plumes descended, joining the bed of sand once more, what remained were the visages of men of short stature in desert garb. Hair covered with a wrap, like the lower-half of their faces, each brandishes a curved blade in their right hands, and shorter daggers in their left. 

 

The bandit closest to Aarin’s eyes widened, seeing the size of the human before him, taking a step back. The one beside his battle-buddy, however... was standing out of his comrade’s line of sight.

The chain-mailed swordsman’s eyes widened as he looked at the carriage containing his masters, reaching right hand up to the sword strapped to his back, only to jerk suddenly, and stop in place.

 

Aarin’s eyes moved to his comrade’s feet as the sand beneath him began to turn a deep crimson color, the shadow of the attacker seen behind Aarin’s ally.

The swordsman took to his right knee, reaching both hands behind him as best as he could, attempting to reach the wound that was just freshly placed in his back.

Standing behind him was another of the desert garbed attackers, raising dagger up and placing it in front of the swordsman’s neck, slicing him open.

Eyes widening with the cut, the swordsman fell to his front, blood starting to darken the sand under his face...

 

The one closest the Aarin raised sword and rushed the large man, only to be met with a bare left foot to the chest, causing him to tumble backwards from the force, also having the air knocked from his lungs. As Aarin turned to look at the carriage, he would see the rear-guard already face-down in the sand... deceased. The two attackers now dragging the children and wife out of the carriage.

 

The front attacker that was still standing moved around the now twitching body of the swordsman, approaching Aarin as the downed attacker gathered himself to his feet, catching his breath.

 

“Mistake...” Aarin says flatly, gritting his teeth, the grinding heard through closed lips.

 

The two attackers nearest him begin to exchange words in a language that Aarin did not know before he would see the freshly recovered attacker circling behind him.

 

“AARIN!” the youngest boy, McEnley, would shout, being met with the butt of a curved sword to his mouth, causing the mother to gasp sharply, clamoring to protect her baby.

 

The two rear ambush-predators kept an eye on the family while the two front attackers encircled the brute, Aarin.

 

Aarin bends at the waist, reaching hands under the fronts of the cuffs of his fabric leggings, starting to pull upward slowly. The tearing of fabric heard loudly as he ripped upward, eyes trained on the attacker in front of him. Reaching his waist, he continues to drag upward, ripping the covering over his upper-body as well, now tossing the jumble of torn fabric off to the left side, causing both attackers to stagger back a little.

All that remained was Aarin’s cloth groin-wrap, loin-cloth, and large bracing belt, littered in various kinds of scars. Arrows, blades, burns, and stabs, covering every inch of his body from his neck to the tops of his feet.

Aarin was... huge. A life-long grappling practitioner, his size, strength, and skill, are all derived from real-world training and experience, having come from a northern family, and being adopted by a family of loggers before being taken in by the Gideon family.

 

Raising left hand to the one in front of him, Aarin waves his fingers, inviting him to attack.

Taking the bait, the front attacker is met with sand that Aarin would kick up from the ground under his bare feet.

As the attacker reeled back from the sand, left arm raising up to cover his eyes, Aarin lunged...

 

Snatching the short statured man by the face with his rather large hand, Aarin would raise the man up from his feet before spiking him down into the sand with a sickening crack, releasing him instantly and turning on heel, rushing the one that was behind him...

 

This new target was prepared, though still a little stricken by the sheer size of the man that was now baring down on him. The ambush attacker  took a low stance and raised dagger up to run it through Aarin’s torso, though, this would not stop the charge of such a mass.

Aarin wrapped his arms around the smaller man, picking him up off the ground by his shoulders, and taking a short hop, dropping his weight down and around the man he had ‘hugged’, the sound of cracking bones heard under Aarin’s weight as the man screamed. 

The brute, Aarin, would adjust himself so that his knees were on the desert man’s shoulders, balling up massive fists, and beginning to swing down into the small hole that allowed the man to see through the cloth wrap.

 

Thuds turned to the faint sounds of cracking, which turned into the sound of somebody punching pudding, blood spray reaching all the way to Aarin’s face, his eyes wide in rage as he just... kept... swinging...

 

The brute would feel a sharp pain on the left side of his lower back, causing him to arch backward with a roar, reaching behind himself to feel that a dagger had been lodged in his back. Swinging right arm around himself blindly, hand open, he would catch short grip of the leg of the one that stabbed him, swinging right leg over and around the man he’d just beaten into the sand, rotating arm and wrist to turn the desert swordsman over in place, only to be met with another sharp pain on the outside of his right leg, releasing his grip from the first to reach down and pull the dagger out from his leg with a grunt...

 

All Aarin felt after that was like a gust of wind on the left side of his face before the world went dark...

In blurs of vision and memory... he catches the two remaining attackers executing the members of the Gideon family, the left side of Aarin’s head throbbing, vision in his left eye seemingly obscured or blocked by something...

 

The next flash of memory would come as the sun was setting, seeing his own bloodied right hand reaching out to grip at the sand in front of him, dragging himself further through the desert...

 

“Come....” he hears as the world goes dark once more.

 

As his vision returned, he could see a small green dot on the horizon... the pain driving him into blacking out again.

 

He had been stabbed in the back, the thigh, and struck with something heavy across the left side of his face, losing vision in his left eye... the orbit broken in, bone piercing the tender organ. The upper left part of his jaw was broken in, as well...

 

“Aarin...” the voice beckons...

 

Opening his eyes, he was within reach of a short, strange looking cactus plant. It looked akin to a standard cactus plant, but the skin was glowing faintly, the barbs letting off something that felt like electricity to the nearly deceased brute.

Left hand raising shakily, his lungs simply couldn’t keep breathing. His heart simply couldn’t keep pumping without the blood or adrenaline that it was used to...

He was dying... and he knew it...

Aarin places left hand on the cactus, spine piercing his skin... but compared to stab wounds and a broken ocular orbit, ‘this is easy’ he thought as he exhaled his last breath...

 

---

---

---

 

MUSIC III

 

The spines of the cactus would elongate almost immediately, piercing through the back of Aarin’s left hand, causing his eyes to snap open and take a deep breath. The pain was... excruciating…

The cactus spikes protruding from the back of his left hand become flaccid, growing and reaching up the length of his arm, and shoulder, turning from a shade of white they were to a pale green coloration, drawing Aarin in toward the cactus as his eyes fluttered shut.

 

The languid looking tendrils of plant-matter would encircle and encompass him entirely in the now setting sun.

Being near-death was a blessing in disguise for Aarin, as what this particular plant was about to do with him would have been unimaginably painful...

 

The cocoon that was now created from the flaccid spines covered his entire body, slowly becoming a darker shade of green as parts of its flesh began to protrude slightly. As time moved on, these protrusions would turn into similarly shaped white spikes, as cacti are known to have, Aarin’s body covered in a winding mass of deep green plant-matter and spines.

 

Within the cocoon... the plant would reach spines in through Aarin’s skin, into his muscles... into his bones... changing him at his core.

Dissolving bone and muscle mass, the cactus would convert this dense material into a sort of ‘skin’ for the newly forming creature. Slightly more dense than cactus flesh. Internally, changing his structures to absorb and store water, and replacing all of his internal organs with plant-matter.

 

Hair being removed due to being purposeless, some spine-like structures would reach out from his now green skin, broken parts of his skull moving outward to ‘reset’, in a way.

This being knew that Aarin did not speak much, if at all, and chose to keep things this way, as to not disturb this man’s way of life... finally coming to understand him as it consumed his mind, converting Aarin’s mind, as well...

 

The cocoon, by the next morning, would be a sickly brown-grey, seeming to be wilting under the heat of the desert sun.

...a set of deep green forefingers breaches the cocoon slowly, gripping at the outer shell before another set would be seen, splitting the cocoon in two from within.

 

Standing in what remained of Aarin’s old clothes, the new being looks about the desert questioningly, then looking down at the small cactus plant in the sand before him...

 

 

 

Do you have a magic(s) you are dropping due to this app? If so, link it:

         No

 

Do you agree to keep Story writers updated on the status of your magic app?:

         If I have one, sure. ^_^

 

Do you understand that if this creature's lore is undergoing an activity trial and that trial fails, you will no longer be able to play this creature and will be forced to either revert the character back to its normal form (if it was a transformative type) or stop playing the character entirely (if it is an entirely new creature)?:

         Yup.

 

Memey RP or using this CA for subpar villain/bandit RP can lead to your app being denied, even after acceptance. Please put "I understand" as your response once you have read this part and understand the consequences.

        I understand.
Not a meme character. I intend to keep Aarin around a LONG time.

 

Have you applied for this creature on this character before, and had it denied? If so, link the app:

         Nope. New character.

I accidentally suffered an outburst in Global OOC, thinking it was local.

I was muted/banned from OOC.

 

I go into the Discord server, apologize, and state that it won’t happen again...

 

I’m not told how long I’ll be muted, I’m not unmuted, and I’m left to just sit outside of a global conversation because I lost my cool once and owned it.

 

“You’re grounded...”
”I’m sorry...”
”You’re still grounded...”
”Okay... for how long?”
”Nobody will tell you...”

Doesn’t seem like an appropriate response to a first offense.

It also doesn’t seem appropriate given that I was in the middle of being harassed by one of your users, being cursed at by them, and then being killed OOCly in the middle of RP.

Yea... I was a little pissed...

 

...but simply stuffing my face in the corner without telling me what I did wrong... leaving ME to figure it out on my own.

Nobody TOLD me it was because I was in Global OOC... I only assume that much...

 

...and then not telling me for how long?

This isn’t how you treat a new user who had a problem with members and staff within the first month of playing...

 

 

Yea...

Now being LAUGHED at...?

By a “VIP”?
...for taking issue with how I’ve been treated?

 

 

I’m done here......

I was pleased when I was applying for the server.

Looking over the rules, seeing all the IC protections for people that just wanted to sit and write.

Always in IC when logged in, Meta and Godmodding seemed handled...

 

...and then I start in on the server...

 

First interaction I have is meta... somebody communicating through 3 other people to get my location and come greet me.

Then, I have somebody blatantly break rule 1.19, and ask about it in the Discord, to get no response.

 

This guy walks up and asks an aggressive question, and then goes AFK for 30 minutes... and then tells me he’s allowed to.

 

Then I get killed while in the middle of RP for OOC reasons.

 

...and now, sitting on a bench, OUT OF THE WAY, in Helena, trying to RP, I have avatars running and jumping over me, on me, and through me.

I ask them to stop.

They don’t.

 

I have a player MSG me, telling ME not to run/jump through Helena... but  counted a dozen people doing it just now, some of them into the lap of my seated character... and... nothing?

 

I thought this place was different... but I was wrong.

 

Excuse me.
I think I’m done here.

“We're all islands shouting lies to each other across seas of misunderstanding.”

- Rudyard Kipling, The Light That Failed

 

(Natural Hair Color)

 

Theme Song

 

~The Professor~

 

Corvus Selune

 

Nicknames

Dao Monks – “Máquè”

Students – “Professor”

Selune Tribe – “Dogheart”

 

 

Race
Snow Elf

 

Apparent Age
Early 20’s

 

Actual Age

30’s

 

Status
Living

 

Background

I

Corvus was born under a full moon on the stillest night of the Spring season some seconds before his sister Luscinia, a surprise to all who deemed the twin’s birth a portent of changing times.

Named for the crow that is said to see and know all, to memory, he has always served to protect his sister. Raised to take the place of his father in compliance with the traditions of his wayward tribe, the snow elf has since come to despise and dislike his former tribe, their ideals, and the practices they followed, seeing them as archaic and unenlightened.

Corvus’ training to take the position his father once held consisted mostly of military tactics and training, as he was duty-bound to protect Luscinia by birthright.

Even before the day of his birth,Corvus was viewed as Lusci’s guardian first, and her sibling second. Battlefield manipulation and extremely close-quarters combat were where he excelled most.

Despite being the last of those once known as the Averan, the Wandering Lost. It is acceptable knowledge that he and his sister were separated from their tribe during the events in Skjoldier. 

It was this incursion that led to the loss of his sister’s vision. 

Since then the pair have fled across the sea and to Arcas, true to their roaming nature, until their stories finally parted in the bustle of the docks.

Corvus, despite his love and devotion to protecting his sister, is often distracted with his research in treatment for her blindness. It was in one of these states that he lost track of her, spending quite some time after that attempting to locate her.

Having previously agreed to move in the direction of the Princedom of Fenn, Corvus set off to meet his sister there, being side-tracked in Helena in search for food and shelter from a raging storm.

Reunited, he continues his protection of his sister...

---

II

Corvus and his sister, Luscinia would stay in the city of Helena for quite some time, trading in the local markets and attempting to aid the local ISA whenever possible. This, was until the third ISA Officer referred to he and/or his sister as trash, or filth, and his sister being attacked in the middle of town square in broad daylight. With the Princedom of Fenn no longer being a suitable destination, the siblings made arrangements for travel to Morsgrad.

Corvus was the first of the siblings to see the bodies hanging from the tree, but paid no mind. These things do no concern him... however... when Luscinia discovered this fact, she was mortified.

After having their respective Chi connected at the Dao Monastery, they decided that this was not a sight they wanted to see with their new eyes, and have returned to their nomadic lifestyle.

 

 

Description

Standing just over 6’ in height, and weighing roughly 12 stones, Corvus is dressed like one would expect a scholar or alchemist to dress.

Grey robes with blue trim over black pants and boots. Vials filled with different colored liquids are in leather hoops in front of his right hip, and a satchel to carry books under his left arm.

Crystalline blue eyes always look scrutinizing, or studying, with everything he looks at, save for his sister.

When he hasn’t inked his hair black, it is near perfectly white.

Regardless of color, it is usually seen with ribbons and beads placed within braids, all put there by his sister, because he personally doesn’t care what he looks like, outside of the desire to darken his hair so that it doesn’t stand out against the moonlight.

The pupils of Corvus’ eyes carry a curious glow to them.

Like small stars in the night sky, there is a single distant glow in each pupil akin to looking at Redstone Torches at the end of very long hallways.

 
 

Nature

Corvus has no interest in things that distract him from his duty to protect his sister, or studying a cure for her condition. He refuses to believe that anybody will know how to treat her better than HE will when he learns what he needs to learn.

Negative experiences dealing with people have left him jaded, though his lack of social skill and grace have lent to aid in negative opinions about him.

Internally, he sees all lives as equal, and agrees that all people have the right to BE… but when he opens his mouth, it is usually to say something that does NOT fall in line with social norms.

He views the world as a puzzle to solve, or an equation to figure out, just to protect his sister. Nothing else seems to matter to him.

 

Intelligent beyond his years, due to having had his nose in books for most of his life, but has hindered his ability to communicate with people, often leading them to misunderstand him, greatly.

 

He is detached from many people and cultures because of this, thinking it better that Lusci be the one to interact with others, verbally.

 

Corvus abhors violence in every form, and prefers to take care of things quietly, and with civility.

To this end, he has taken four lives in his roughly 30 years on the planet, in order to either rapidly deescalate a situation, or to protect his sister, and has lost no sleep because of it.

 

 

Loves

“Love? My sister. Other than that, it’s just another foul word in -any- language.”

-Corvus

 

 

Hates

Corvus is mostly incapable of ‘hate’, as a general concept. He doesn’t really understand the purpose.

Hating others doesn’t do anything to them. In his mind, all hatred does is poison you.

He strongly dislikes ignorant people, or those that claim power without earning it.

Anybody that believes they are better than anybody else because of the family they happened to be born to.

He earned the name “Dogheart” within his tribe due to his desire to call out anybody that was acting ignorant or foolish, and felt joy from angering them in the process.

 

Fears

“Fear will slay you faster than any animal or weapon.”

-Corvus

 

 

Combat

Out of respect, or due to loss of life, people who have engaged him, or have seen him be engaged, prefer to keep things quiet. He is an ambush predator by nature, and prefers to out-think his enemies instead of relying on brute strength or allies. He studies everything and everyone, obsessively, until he can find a way through, or around.

Though more physically gifted than other elves due to his race, he has focused more on his studies, giving less attention to martial training, and more to ambush and surprise attacks directed at weak-points in his targets.

He believes he is smart enough not to need to rely very heavily on martial prowess, as most of his engagements have been over within a few seconds.

 

 

 

 

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