Weaponry: Heartstory

Heartstory is a wooden staff that is about five feet. Sengard carved it himself from a white wood, notoriously frail. The weak wood would make a weak staff, but Sengard assimilated it with his Melthye, giving it unnatural strength. The energy present is in the staff is seen when Sengard cracks it on the ground, jump starting the dormant energy. The blue glow flows along the runic carvings along the length of the staff, and then bursts out at the ends, creating a roughly circular ball of Melthye on each end. This free-flowing energy leaves a brief afterglow as Sengard twirls and swings his staff about. It also gets extremely hot, and the wielder can stab with it and burn his opponent. He uses it as a walking stick outside of battle, and its undecorated design and lack of metal tips, make it seem as just that.

The ornate carvings that run the length of the staff tell a story. It’s a simple Arconian legend, one that is known to most children, and yet almost all love hearing it. It’s a love story and a simple one at that. A strong Paladin fell in love with and Arconian princess and so they married. She was sent to a diplomatic meeting to try to form an alliance with a nearby moon. Alliances were rare, but this moon was small and had little of value, so the Arcon royal family sent two members over. They were promptly murdered, beheaded and their remains sent back. Her lover, the Paladin, was overcome with rage. While the Arcons prepared to invade, he stole a ship and flew over himself. It was said that when the expedition force arrived, the whole moon was burning. There were no living residents anywhere, but quite a few dead, disfigured ones, and it was thought that the Paladin had killed them all. They couldn’t find a body, and no one ever found out what happened to him. Some think he just committed suicide to be with his love. Others think he went off to be a mercenary. Either way, it’s a fanciful tale full of whimsy… and, well, maybe not, but the kids like it.
The style, known to Arconians simply as “Staff of the Bard” is basically defensive. The wielder blocks the aggressors strikes, and uses Arcons’ natural speed to dodge, until an opening arises, at which point they quickly stab with the glowing energy tip of the staff, burning the enemy. This style takes a long time to finish off an opponent since there are only minimal ways to land a killing blow. If the bard is unable to land a killing blow, he would begin to dip into his arsenal of Melthye assimilation/manipulation skills. While a Bard who had remained on Arca would use Melthye sooner, and rely more on it, Sengard’s time alone had given him long hours to train with the staff, making him more proficient than an average Bard.
In battle Sengard also relies on techniques involving Melthye so I’ll explain that here. Arcons have a skin-like shell that holds their muscles. Inside that shell resides an Arcon’s life force, the pure energy that they truly are. If the energy is exposed outside them for long it will dry up, absorbed by the natural life, the native plants and wildlife of the planet. The fact that their direct demise can only come from the natural world probably adds greatly to their respect of it, as a warrior culture would be bound to admire that which they know could defeat them. When the shell is punctured and the energy begins to flow out, the Arcon must quickly superheat the energy, burning the skin around it and cauterizing the wound. If this is not done quickly, or if Sengard fails to notice the wound at all, the Melthye will likely leak out until his energy is depleted. At that point, with no energy, his true essence dissipated, the Arcon fades, the shell passing away and the soul going back to nature.
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"That's like asking if Bob Dole = a leather glove... Technically no... But if you round...." ~Nessman121
WE LOVE THE SUBS COZ THEY ARE GOOD TO US!

Physical/Magical Techniques »

Shroudstory: Sengard spins his staff around vertically on his left, continues spinning as he switches to his right, and continues spinning as he switches it backs. He gradually increases speed until the afterglow from the ends of Heartstory covers him completely, and becomes a solid barrier of energy. He then dashes forward, still spinning the staff, so the barrier moves with him, and strikes the enemy, who is hurt both by the heat, and the massive kinetic energy of the strike. It is a good opening technique, since most enemies would think the spinning in the beginning is a mere taunt, rather than precipitating an attack.

Nightstory: Not a real attack, but Sengard’s skin and cloak are a deep shade of purple, just as most environments are in darkness. He can remain perfectly still and hide his whereabouts. He remains perfectly still to avoid detection either by sound or hearing, leaving him nearly invisible to opponents without night vision.
Warstory: This attack is basically used in a group of less-skilled, weak enemies. Sengard begins holding Heartstory in his loosely hanging right arm, horizontal to the ground. He brings it up in a swing upward towards one enemy. He then spins it horizontally once around his head, kneeling on his right knee, if the foes are too short to be hit otherwise. As he spins the staff, he brings his left hand up to it, then with two hands, brings it back down to about waist-height on his left side, stabbing to the back then front in rapid succession.
Forcestory: Sengard raises his staff above his head, taking a few moments for a quick, three-word chant that focuses the Melthye in the staff. He then thrusts the staff into the ground, shooting an expanding dome of energy outward. The relative quickness of the move leaves some power to be desired. However, the technique can be extremely useful for stopping a speeding enemy, blocking a number of projectiles, or knocking a flying or jumping enemy out of the air.

Assimilation: This is Sengard’s main Melthye technique. He reaches out his arm to an inanimate object and transmits some of his life force, the Melthye, the object. The item begins to be coated with a glowing blue color, and gets extremely hot. Obviously smaller objects will get converted quicker than larger ones, as the energy can be transmitted through the smaller object quicker than a large one. Once it’s covered, bard can use his other Melthye skills.

Manipulation: Once the object has been converted, Sengard can direct it around using his mind’s grip on the Melthye as an extension of himself and move the object around. Light objects can be easily tossed through the air at a high velocity, but a larger or heavier object would barely be able to be dragged along the ground by the Arcon.

Disfigure: An alternative to hurling objects about, Sengard can also change the shape of the object in question. Generally, and almost always in a larger object, the new shapes must be kept fairly simple. A ball, stick, disc, are easy enough, but the Bard won’t be making any ornate suits of armor or sculptures. This technique has several main uses. Sengard can create simple spears and shields on the fly, if an opponent has disarmed him. If an object is blocking his path, it can be shrunk or changed to a shape that will more readily allow passage.
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"That's like asking if Bob Dole = a leather glove... Technically no... But if you round...." ~Nessman121
WE LOVE THE SUBS COZ THEY ARE GOOD TO US!

Great, I got interrupted, gotta finish later, sorry.

---
"That's like asking if Bob Dole = a leather glove... Technically no... But if you round...." ~Nessman121
WE LOVE THE SUBS COZ THEY ARE GOOD TO US!

Grr, why are people going with the musical aspect? It was supposed to be just Ayla and me. =(
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Guildmaster » —[35 Stars]— of the Intrepid Genesis
sublime epiphany ~ Ah well. We'll be the best! >_>

Back Story: Arca was only a world, militaristic, run by gods of war, of order, of strength. The laws were few, and foremost among the Arcons was that which is foremost within nature: survival of the fittest. They were the fittest among all races, for that was all they would allow within their midst. That was all was all that would be accepted. A culture, a civilization such as theirs, living off the riches of other worlds, the grand cities of those less suited to war, could only survive with nature’s finest. The tests were long, rigorous, wearing away at the sanity of countless Arcons, and shattering it in the case of the weak ones. Those who passed, those who were deemed by the royals and by nature, the Fittest, those most worthy to live joined the ranks of the galaxy’s most feared and respected army, the mighty fleets of Arca. Those who failed, well, the natural consequence of the tests was death. As it was, there were two choices: pass the trials and survive, or die.
Sengard Rauthir failed the tests, and yet survived. Born the son of the royals, a favored son among the rulers of the most powerful warrior planet in the universe, he was in perfect position to become one of the most powerful beings ever, entire ranks of devoutly loyal soldiers, massive congregations of wise and noble Bards. But he failed. He was a strong warrior; he could have easily done it. He would have been a mighty Paladin, the conqueror of whole worlds on his own. He lacked the brutality, the willingness to do anything the leaders asked of him unquestioningly. He didn’t want to destroy the vast civilizations of the universe, despite what everyone around him was telling him. He chose to enter the less-warring Order of the Bard. He went through the tests, learning how to fight with a staff, memorizing tales, chants, ancient tales of Arconian prowess, quickly and easily, even if halfheartedly.
There was one, final test that all Arcons had to go through, Bard or Paladin. Two Arcons were pitted against each other in a fight to the death, ensuring only the better half of the young entered the ranks of the adult Arcons. Sengard would have done it, just to please his family, just as a last conquest before he could enter the Bards, rarely, if ever, having to slaughter innocents again. But the draw was announced, and he was to fight Aldaron, his best friend since childhood. They had grown up together, Aldaron the son of the Chief of the Royal Guard, and had competed with each other, being two of the strongest Arconian young in recent memory. Their competition differed, however, from the other rivalries. Theirs wasn’t driven by pride, desire to show strength, to prove their worth or place among the mighty. They were friendly, driven by friendship, a sense of companionship. He couldn’t do it, fight his friend. He wouldn’t be killed, but neither would he kill him who he nearly loved, or at least felt something as close to love as the near emotionless Arcons got. He wouldn’t fight like this anymore, not just for a test, a worthless show of strength. He wasn’t like the rest.
---
"That's like asking if Bob Dole = a leather glove... Technically no... But if you round...." ~Nessman121
WE LOVE THE SUBS COZ THEY ARE GOOD TO US!

Instead he fled. He loaded up a small craft, gutting the unnecessary weapons and cargo space, and refitting it with fuel tanks. He took nothing, but a cloak, pants, and a plain, white, wooden staff he had fought with his whole life. He had no idea where to go, but he knew he couldn’t stay here. He took one last look over his shoulder at the world he had lived in his whole life. It was beautiful; it seemed so peaceful and serene
now. He wanted to stay for a second, but then his head got the better of him. In the dawn hours, unless he left, either he or his friend would die. And he would have
neither. He jumped into the ship, lifted off, and pointed it out into space.

The Arcon shivered as he shook himself awake. He had no idea how long he’d been flying in this one direction. It was so repetitive out here, so lonely. He looked outside his cockpit and was surprised to see a huge planet looming in front of him. This was it, he felt. This was the new home he was looking for. He took control of the craft, nearly snapping the joystick. It had been so long since he had used it; he’d been content to fly straight in one direction, so long as it was away from Arca.

He crash-landed in a swamp on the edge of a tiny
island, and slowly waded inland. This island seemed to be inhabited by strange creatures who called themselves humans. They seemed quite backwards, having none of the technology Sengard had left behind on Arca. These were the kind of beings that the royals would have destroyed without a second thought. Sengard attempted to be friendly, but they couldn’t understand his speech and seemed terrified. They attacked him, thinking no better of him than of the monsters that lived on the outskirts of the town. There was only one town on this small island, and the Arcon was driven out of there promptly.

Dejected, he headed for a forest to the east, where he built a small shack. He sneaked back into the town that night, covered head to toe in his cloak, so he couldn’t be distinguished as a strange alien being. Somehow, he was able to trade for a small book that he planned to study in an attempt to figure out the language. Pleased with this small victory on a strange planet, he retreated to his forest abode.

His existence grew repetitive from that point to this. He spent the vast majority of his time studying until he could speak the language, sneaking back into the town
whenever possible to listen to the natives speak. Eventually he figured most of it out, and was then able to converse with these creatures. He met a great many; the town was small but prosperous and many merchants came through by sea, seemingly on their way to other continents that, no doubt, covered the planet. He enjoyed talking with them in the bars, but he regretted never being able to form a relationship with
them. He tried at first, but each time he was shunned from his appearance. These people had seen elves, dwarves and gnomes, but never something as odd looking as him.

With the communication barrier broken, Sengard was hard pressed to find something to occupy his time. He took to training long hours with his staff, mastering it
eventually. He practiced his Melthye techniques until he could toss and disfigure objects with relative ease. He also would up sharpening a stone he found in
the forest, and carving an Arconian fairy tale onto the staff. He, as well as the rest of the Arcons, knows that tale as the Heartstory, and somewhere along the line, that just became the name he called the staff.
---
"That's like asking if Bob Dole = a leather glove... Technically no... But if you round...." ~Nessman121
WE LOVE THE SUBS COZ THEY ARE GOOD TO US!

It got lonely after a while, being completely alone, literally without a single friend in the world. He began to go into the town more often, talking with anybody he could. He knew where all the taverns were, and the type of people he was likely to meet in each one. There was one in particular he grew to enjoy. The High Thrush seemed to be frequented by traders from far on the other side of this world, someplace called Kotir. He heard magnificent tales of this group known as the Intrepid Genesis. He heard they were the best warriors in the world, all sorts of strange, outlandish creatures. From the tales, Sengard found himself thinking he might actually fit in among these.

He found his mind made up quickly. Sengard negotiated passage back to Kotir with a group of merchants, who would first travel by sea, then finish the journey by land. There was a slight shock among the merchants when they first saw his face a few days out at sea, but these were much hardier people than the villagers of the miniscule island. They had traveled the world, seen all kinds of strange races. Sengard was but another one to them. He got along well with them, but, still, it didn’t seem like he was one of them. That was what he really wanted. He would fight for this Intrepid Genesis, united with his brothers in arms, fighting for the cause. He wasn’t even sure what the cause was yet, but in the stories, it seemed just. This faction would have the right priorities, he was sure. And he would be one of them, give his life for them, and pass away, a glorious warrior, in such a noble way, that the mighty Paladins of Arca would be awed if they ever hear the tale…
---
"That's like asking if Bob Dole = a leather glove... Technically no... But if you round...." ~Nessman121
WE LOVE THE SUBS COZ THEY ARE GOOD TO US!

Combat Sample:
Sengard trudged around another corner in the seemingly endless labyrinth. Complete silence came from all sides. Nothing new for the Arcon, he had lived a life that was all but devoid of companionship. A breeze rustled his cloak, but the eerie silence remained strangely unbroken. He shivered, not from cold, but from the ominous presence that he could feel here. The air felt, thick. He fought hard to walk through the fog so thick that it seemed to be opposing his progress. He saw a small plant as he rounded the next corner, but it was sickly, brown and dead. The withered thing seemed drained, as if it couldn’t understand the dark atmosphere of this forsaken maze. Sengard could feel it; this was an evil place.

Around the next corner he saw a cloaked being. It fled, seeming almost scared to see something living within this locale. Sengard eagerly pursued hoping it was familiar with this great maze and would lead him out. It ran with a speed not of this world, but the Arcon was not of this world, either. The two dashed around corners ducking over fallen slabs of rock and jumping the crevices that split the path. They slipped often, crashing to the gravel, but the silence, somehow, remained unbroken.

The cloaked figured disappeared through a hole in the wall, with the Arcon in hot pursuit. As Sengard emerged on the other side of the wall he was surprised to see nothing. He had managed to keep fairly close behind but now the monster was gone, the corridor empty. It seemed as if the whole world was still for a second, quiet and unmoving. Then with a huge explosion, it shot back to life. Sengard was deafened for a second by the gigantic sound after the long-standing quiet, but found himself reacting out of habit, out of training to the figure’s attack.

The runes along the length of his staff began to glow as he raised it above his head. Gee’housh Arca would have come from slightly open lips had he possessed a mouth, now it just seemed to resound from his entire body. He then stabbed it into the ground as the figure flew closer, tossing daggers. A blue fire of energy burst from the tips of the staff, as a dome of energy formed around the Arcon. It shot outward, pushing the daggers out of their flight path, and they wound up passing far from their intended target.
However, the cloaked figure had enough mass and velocity to travel right through the weak energy blast. His foot shot out, kicking Sengard in the chest and knocking him over. The Arcon let his enemy’s momentum take him backward, falling back first into the ground. He deftly continued the motion lifting his legs from the ground and flip back to his feet. From there he lifted his staff over his shoulder and stabbed at the ground behind him, hopefully where his enemy was, no doubt, lying on the ground.

---
"That's like asking if Bob Dole = a leather glove... Technically no... But if you round...." ~Nessman121
WE LOVE THE SUBS COZ THEY ARE GOOD TO US!

Actually in context, he's pretty much only a Bard in name. It's in the part about the Arcon Classes.
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"That's like asking if Bob Dole = a leather glove... Technically no... But if you round...." ~Nessman121
WE LOVE THE SUBS COZ THEY ARE GOOD TO US!

I would sign-up, but I'm too lazy to write a good sign-up... =(
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Teh 1336 Pwn'r

...*cough*
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| - General of the Dojang - |
Greenhorn –[10 Stars]- of The Intrepid Genesis

=\

If I'm bored enough tonight then I may start it, but I doubt I'll finish it. This is a new account, I've been here on and off for almost two years though.

Oh yeah, and I'm making two RPGs too... soo... yeah...
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Teh 1336 Pwn'r

Me, do a sign-up? Not a chance in hell. I hate them and wouldn't make one if my life depended on it.
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W.Visarett[35]: "Now there might be a chance were I in heaven"
-»Emblazoned Light of the Crimson Void

Look, as opposed to just bashing the description, I'm going to give you a completely opiniated view of what I think. I'm going to try to be as fair as possible, but at the same time please understand that the IG has standards that we try to keep higher than the average faction, and this can be interpreted as being snobbish, it really isn't, it's just that we have high standards.

That's what I wanted in the first place. Thank you.

It's fluff. There's no purpose in it. The first one beats around the bush without GOING anywhere. The second one is simply unneeded eye candy. While you don't have to be "boring" in your description, you do the opposite here by being so grand it actually becomes less engaging.

The first example you gave has a purpose, it's getting at his personality. I mean sure, I guess I could have put that in the personality description instead of physical, but meh. And the lights up a tower thing was a metaphor. I used many metaphors there, quite nice ones if I do say so myself. It's no more "fluff" than anything else. Here's my view; your IG FAQ thing at the begining of this topic (of which I read entirely) said that it is neccessary for you to be able to perfectly imagine the character in your mind. That was what I was trying to acomplish; to paint a varried and beautiful canvas of who Kaggra is. I could paint an apple tree, but why stop there, why not add grass around it, clouds in the background, a meadow, rolling hills, flowers, a rabbit timidly peeking out of his hole?

And while it is very abstract, it is so much so that it becomes ridiculous and is easy to disregard. Flashy words do not make a good description. What you need here is to be direct and precise. You're trying to paint a picture when you should be trying to take a photograph.

Hmm, that's the way it is, huh? I like portraits more than photographs. Perhaps the IG isn't the place for me.

The photograph isn't perhaps as visually grand as the painting, but remember that the best photograph can be just as remarkable as the best paintings.

I guess we'll just have to disagree there.

Combat samples are left open-ended on purpose. It is a measure of the duelist's creativity as well as writing skill. You accomplished very little of each.

It was boring. Really boring. Walking in a maze? I think you should have the person signing up give you their own original combat sample, rather than setting one up for them. You want a real example of my abilities, just ask me. You want me to churn out the same thing as everyone else? Well then I guess the IG just isn't the place I thought it was.

On a more real word basis, would a firm hire someone who didn't put their whole effort into a certain part of a project because they felt it was "redundant"? Would a college accept someone who believed that grades showed ability and the personal essay was "arduous"?

Uhh, heh, I know you IG guys take this stuff very seriously, but I hardly think an online roleplaying faction could be compared to a business firm or college.

Omni's lazzyy. =P

And how. Anyone who won't read a measley 49000 character signup/bio isn't worth my time and effort.

Heh, the sad thing is the Dojang doesn't look any better than this place. Maybe I can find an entire roleplaying FORUM, like not on GameFAQs or anything. That's what I need.
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To the world you are just one person, but to one person you are the world.

"That was what I was trying to acomplish; to paint a varried and beautiful canvas of who Kaggra is. I could paint an apple tree, but why stop there, why not add grass around it, clouds in the background, a meadow, rolling hills, flowers, a rabbit timidly peeking out of his hole?"

That's true, but we don't need to know how many leaves are on the tree, nor do we need to know that each blade of grass has 0.0086 inches of dew on it, or that the bunny just had sixteen little bunnies, three brown ones, two white white ones, six black ones, and five spotted ones.. This is what you're doing.

"It was boring. Really boring. Walking in a maze? I think you should have the person signing up give you their own original combat sample, rather than setting one up for them. You want a real example of my abilities, just ask me. You want me to churn out the same thing as everyone else? Well then I guess the IG just isn't the place I thought it was."

It's your job to make it not boring. If you can't manage to do that, then you don't deserve our time.
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Treasurer -[50 Stars]- of The Intrepid Genesis

Tags.

I loved your discription Simba.

>_>

<_<

*Reads reviews*

I think I'll annoy TAS and see what he thinks before submitting my bio.

My signup should be done soon. I just hate that I've missed out on all the good stuff.

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Frylock: Meatwad, every were you go someone dies or gets hurt. Meatwad: Everybody hates me because they die or get hurt. -Aqua Teen Hunger Force

Eh, Jimmy. It's too Protoss-esque for me. I'm sorry, but I can't accept that character. All you really need to do is change the race/appearance/portions of bio.
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Treasurer -[50 Stars]- of The Intrepid Genesis

I loved your discription Simba.

Thanks.
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To the world you are just one person, but to one person you are the world.

Simba, can you sign on to AIM?
---
Frylock: Meatwad, every were you go someone dies or gets hurt. Meatwad: Everybody hates me because they die or get hurt. -Aqua Teen Hunger Force

Simba, can you sign on to AIM?

Uhh, ignore my profile, I don't use AIM and actually haven't for quite some time. I'm logging offline for the night, anyway. Gotta go do a ton of homework, then see if I can get a few hours of sleep before school tomorrow.
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To the world you are just one person, but to one person you are the world.

---The first example you gave has a purpose, it's getting at his personality. I mean sure, I guess I could have put that in the personality description instead of physical, but meh.

Meh? That was the format, description in "description", personality in "personality". That wasn't hard to do.

And the lights up a tower thing was a metaphor. I used many metaphors there, quite nice ones if I do say so myself.

As you disagreed with me on portraits and photographs, so I will disagree with you here, and so will many others.

It's no more "fluff" than anything else. Here's my view; your IG FAQ thing at the begining of this topic (of which I read entirely) said that it is neccessary for you to be able to perfectly imagine the character in your mind. That was what I was trying to acomplish; to paint a varried and beautiful canvas of who Kaggra is.

It's MUCH easier to imagine something when it isn't encumbered by so many literary devices that it makes in clumsy. You have sentences and sentences that have no importance at all to what his eyes look like, that are just there to add sparkle to the passage itself, without doing anything for the passage. It's like packaging. Nobody buys anything for the box it comes in.

I could paint an apple tree, but why stop there, why not add grass around it, clouds in the background, a meadow, rolling hills, flowers, a rabbit timidly peeking out of his hole?

Because it takes the attention away from the apple tree, which is what you're supposed to be describing anyway, not the bunny near it.

It was boring. Really boring. Walking in a maze? I think you should have the person signing up give you their own original combat sample, rather than setting one up for them. You want a real example of my abilities, just ask me. You want me to churn out the same thing as everyone else? Well then I guess the IG just isn't the place I thought it was.

That's just not the point. The point is that you're being given very little to work with, and you as the writer supposed to impress us by take the proverbial lemons and turn them into lemonade. It's a lot easier to be able to be in a comfort zone where you can just dream up a whole world and easily put things together that you readily associate with something, it flows, it's easy. When you're put into a situation where it just says "maze", the good writer expounds upon "maze". It never says WHAT kind of maze it is, it really gives no grand scenery. It says it's ruined. Well? That's where you're supposed to exercize your creativity. I don't know about X, but I'd rather see someone do something avant-garde in a setting they had to improvise from than come up with a scenario that they have the benefit of doing themselves, regardless of how original the combat is. Having the luxury of creating the setting makes it that much easier. You were being put to the test, and you simply did not pass at all.

---
Ambassador -[35 Stars]- Of The Intrepid Genesis
I am the ambassador, I'm here to kick your assador

>_> I tried once doing like Simba; I was just as scolded, so I conformed.
---
[-=Ten Stars=-] »»Intrepid Genesis««
§Pirate Stars§

>_> I tried once doing like Simba; I was just as scolded, so I conformed.

Conformer!

Nobody buys anything for the box it comes in.

Heh. Bad analogy.

You were being put to the test, and you simply did not pass at all.

Hard to pass a poorly-written test when you don't put an ounce of effort towards it.
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To the world you are just one person, but to one person you are the world.

[This message was deleted at the request of the original poster]

Ooh, saying you didn't put any effort into it isn't helping, Simba. Now, if you're not trying again, I will ask you to remove yourself from our topic.
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Treasurer -[50 Stars]- of The Intrepid Genesis

Hard to pass a poorly-written test when you don't put an ounce of effort towards it.

And what? Is this our fault? It's a CHALLENGE to pass a poorly-written test, and you didn't rise to meet the challenge, obviously. You say yourself you didn't put an ounce of effort towards it, and now what? Am I supposed to feel sorry that you didn't put your full effort into it or are you making an excuse? Are you saying that the because the combat situation was just framework that you shouldn't be required to put forth a full effort? If anything you should put forth more than a full effort to compensate for a limited amount of setting.

Also, we're not asking anybody to conform, we're asking you to do the exact opposite and excel, but in your case, Simba, you go stray so far from the path that the work becomes bogged down in so many ideas that I'm sure are wonderful in your own mind simply do not translate over to the reader. This is the basis of true skill in writing: translating your thoughts clearly from mind to paper. This is the area I think you should work on.

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Ambassador -[35 Stars]- Of The Intrepid Genesis
I am the ambassador, I'm here to kick your assador

Nobody buys anything for the box it comes in.

Heh. Bad analogy.

Agreed. That's the whole point of marketing.

You were being put to the test, and you simply did not pass at all.

Hard to pass a poorly-written test when you don't put an ounce of effort towards it.

Er, opinion: The sign up for IG is no different than half stuff you see on the rest of this board, even easier than some I seen. (>_> no names...) I see no reason for complaint. I don't really agree with the combat bit unless your not well known and your sign up is iffy. Whatever, not my faction.

And about Simba's portion he posted; I half agree with why you were rejected. You seemed to put a metaphor for every little thing, long ones that weren't necessary. And little things like saying something was this BUT NOT TOO MUCH!!!... not necessary either. People only go with you say; they won't think he's twenty feet high if you simply say he's tall. As you can tell, I'm mostly going down, and by the second post it was okay, for me anyways.

So blah, there's that. Take it as you want.
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[-=Ten Stars=-] »»Intrepid Genesis««
§Pirate Stars§

Owned? Yes I think so...

>_>

I'll be leaving your faction topic now...
---
Teh 1336 Pwn'r
1336: Almost 1337, but not quite...

Sign up. Now.

*stabs Instant*
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Treasurer -[50 Stars]- of The Intrepid Genesis

I think you're taking my analogy the wrong way. I'm saying that when you buy a toaster, you're buying it because you want to toast bread, not because you want the box it comes in.

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Ambassador -[35 Stars]- Of The Intrepid Genesis
I am the ambassador, I'm here to kick your assador

x_x

Grrr...

I would if I wasn't umm... busy procrastinating...

I don't know if I have time for a faction because of:
A) Rainbow Six RPG starting up.
B) Revival of my RPG with Suikoden III Crhis
C) Remake of Evangelion with SMMX
D) Laziness?

Anyways, I'll try, I guess I'll start working on the sign up tonight. But I'm really, so maybe if someone IM'd me I'd work faster *cough*. Sorry...
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Teh 1336 Pwn'r
1336: Almost 1337, but not quite...

Wasn't directed at me but anyways.... >_> You're still going to pick the box that's silver, shiny, and has big, flashy letters making up attractive words. Either way, I was joking.
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[-=Ten Stars=-] »»Intrepid Genesis««
§Pirate Stars§

Then i've been purchasing toaster's for the wrong reason.>> *Kicks box*
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Frylock: Meatwad, every were you go someone dies or gets hurt. Meatwad: Everybody hates me because they die or get hurt. -Aqua Teen Hunger Force

*Is currently working on Sign-Up*

=D
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Teh 1336 Pwn'r
1336: Almost 1337, but not quite...

"And how. Anyone who won't read a measley 49000 character signup/bio isn't worth my time and effort."

No, no, I believe you're missing the point. Your bio wasn't worth my time and effort. Thanks for trying, though. =)

P.S. - It's spelled measly, sparky. ;P
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[»€®®àñT -€|V|ôtïóÑ«]
¤ and i'm sure the view from heaven beats the hell out of mine here ¤

«Name» Kedyn

«Age» 28

«Gender» Male

«Race» Human

«Appearance» Kedyn is a man of average height, standing at five foot eleven inches. He wears a white button down shirt, with black leather leggings. An untidy 5 o’clock shadow runs across his defined cheekbones. His dark brown hair falls just above his shoulders, but a couple locks dangle in front of his eyes. His icy blue eyes stare chillingly from behind his messy hair. His boots are worn brown leather and it clashes horribly with his black pants. He wears a blue silk tunic over the white shirt, on top of which is strapped a sash. Behind the sash is a precarious sheath, one that is carved out of onyx at the bottom, and ivory at the top. A Diamond was inserted into the onyx, and an amber rock inserted into the ivory. A heavy leather belt is strapped around his waste, with a leather sheath dangling to the side, where he carries his pocketknife. Kedyn is in good shape from traveling often, but he does not seem bulky. His mother tattooed a large black phoenix on his back when he was a child, she told him that it was his father’s symbol, but Kedyn never really believed it. He always thought it was some symbolic meaning for his mother, but never really brought it up.

«Personality» Kedyn has a personality entirely different from his appearance. Although he may look rough, it is only from travel, and not from choice. Kedyn has impeccable manners at almost all occasions. He iscourteous to anyone he meets, and doesn’t mind lending a hand to those in need. He hates ignorant people who are stubborn and unwilling to cooperate. They make him incredibly angry, the only time is courteous demeanor falters is when he meets them. He enjoys sharing a meal with a friend, and loves music. Although he does not play any instruments himself, he loves to hear a tune that he can whistle on the road. Kedyn almost always travels alone, but enjoys company, as long as they don’t slow him down. He is easy going with his money, and doesn’t mind giving it to people in need. He is a sharp, cunning man who loves a match of wits. He very rarely has a serious demeanor, although sometimes it is required of him. When thinking hard on a subject, his face displays no emotion of any kind. He will do what is best for him and what is best for the people he cares about. Your lucky if he’s a friend, and unlucky if he’s an enemy. Kedyn loves women; he loves everything about them. He loves their body, their hair, their smell, everything. He’ll do anything for a woman, all she needs to do is get his attention, and it’s done. Although he has this severe attraction, he can’t manage to talk to them without tripping over his words. Kedyn moves around because he never stayed in one place as a child, he never really had any friend’s because he was moving so often. He still travels often because it is the only thing he ever knew as a child.
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Teh 1336 Pwn'r
1336: Almost 1337, but not quite...

«Weaponry» Kedyn uses two short swords to fight with. One he calls Sun, the other named Moon. They are sheathed in the case he carries on his back. Moon hidden within the onyx, Sun hidden within the ivory. Sheaths are connected at the middle, and the blades of these swords are no longer then a foot long each. Sun’s blade glows golden, while Moon’s blade glows silver. They are magical blades that work best in unison, and do not work at all when they are against each other. The blades are also locked into the sheath until one presses the Diamond or Amber gemstone. Once the gemstone has been pressed, the blade is free from the sheath and can be drawn at will. Sun has black leather crisscrossing across the white ivory hilt, where as Moon has white leather going across the hilt. Kedyn never takes these swords off, they were a gift from his mother (Stolen from his father). He received the swords at the age of fourteen, and trained with them ever since. It seemed the swords themselves taught Kedyn how to wield them best. Kedyn is not one to kill fast, but if provoked, he will not give it a second thought.

«Magical Capabilities» The sword of Moon lusts for blood shed, while the sword of Sun desires compromise. The wielder must deal with both desires, and after long enough; the wielder will go insane. The swords do not discriminate, and they feed off the wielders feelings. If he is angry, then it will desire blood more then compromise, if he his calm, then it will desire compromise. One most be in control of his emotions in order to wield these blades to full effectiveness. Kedyn has not been driven insane by the blades magic yet, but sometimes he loses control over his emotions, and then there is trouble. The lust is always with the wielder, until the blade switches hands. If someone picks up the blades, then they instantly desire blood, or compromise, depending on what they feel like. The previous owner becomes jealous when the handling of the blades is done by anyone but him. Why should anyone else deserve them? They are mine!

«Fighting Style/Class» Kedyn is an adventurer, not really any particular of the classic classes, he travels around a lot. Going from town to town, wandering endlessly he is proficient in out door survival techniques, and knows a lot of people from a lot of places. He fights with his swords, his knife, and anything else he can find. His only rule is there are no rules in combat, it’s what you can do to win, and you can do to keep your opponent from winning, and that’s all that matters. Moon and Sun have helped him learn how to fight with two swords at the same time. They trained him to be proficient with both in each hand, so he can parry and jab at the same time, or hack and slash in an all out whirlwind attack. Kedyn’s style is a fluent motion; no one move is unnecessary. Every movement he makes is one hundred percent necessary. If it wasn’t necessary, he wouldn’t of made the move.
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Teh 1336 Pwn'r
1336: Almost 1337, but not quite...

«Physical Techniques» Kedyn has many moves techniques he uses while in combat. He uses his swords in unison, or in ecstatic patterns. He can easily use each sword for a different opponent, for he has trained each sword for each hand. Kedyn can’t suddenly unleash an insanely powerful attack, though when his emotions run wild, he can’t control himself. The swords take over. His weakness is without the swords. He feels lonely, or like he’s missing a part of himself when he doesn’t have them with him. He can use one proficiently enough, but his emotions are drawn over and above what they would normally be with the other. The swords counter-act each other, one calls for compromise, one calling for blood shed. If he is only using one, he will get an excessive amount of either emotion (Either he will fight too defensively, not making attacks, or he will fight to offensively, making too many attacks. Which leaves him open and exposed all too often.).

«Magical Techniques» Kedyn has no magical abilities what so ever, no healing or nothing. He knows basic first-aid, and usually stitches his own wounds up. This puts him at a severe disadvantage, but he also has an abnormally large amount of endurance and speed. The endurance comes from traveling so much, so he gets tired very slowly. The speed he was born with, perhaps a parting gift from his father. Other than that, Kedyn can do nothing but attack with his swords and knife. Being completely non-magical is one of things that Kedyn has learned to overcome living on his own, though it would come in handy when one’s trying to start a fire in the pouring rain so you can cook dinner that night.
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Teh 1336 Pwn'r
1336: Almost 1337, but not quite...

«Background» Kedyn was born from a noble father, and a gypsy mother. The mother had become involved with an affair with the husband of the Queen’s sister. When the Queen found out about this, a bounty was placed on Kedyn’s mother’s head. They fled the country and sought refuge in the countryside. After living there for a couple months, they moved out of the country and traveled around. Staying wherever they could, they moved selling goods so they could by food. They were never very rich, but Kedyn was certainly well provided for. Moving often was hard on Kedyn, for he never made many friends. His mother taught him manners and how to read.

Kedyn’s earliest memory was his mother tattooing the phoenix across his back. She told him that it was his father’s symbol, and it was his gift to him. All Kedyn knew was that it hurt a lot, and looked funny. He didn’t complain though, he new his mother was under a lot of stress. On his fourteenth birthday, Kedyn received the swords of Sun and Moon. His mother told them she had taken them from his father when they were fleeing, and that she felt he should have them. She told him she had no idea how to open it, or what it was for, but he knew it looked nice. He graciously accepted the gift. He tugged at the sheath, but it would not open. He tugged on it for hours on end, trying to reveal the blade.

Finally, out of frustration, Kedyn threw the swords against their wagon. It must of hit one of the Gemstones because the swords slid free. Kedyn, surprised, rushed over to collect his prize. Picking them up, he instantly knew how to remove and return the swords to the sheath. Kedyn was scared by the sudden knowledge, and wasn’t quite sure why he knew this, but the he was reassured by a comforting thought. He practiced with the swords as his mom drove the cart down the path. Learning; training; mastering.

Kedyn’s first experience with a woman was when he was sixteen. He had met a fine girl named Beth in a town, and she gave him pleasures he had never experienced before. At the time he was to naive to realize she was a prostitute, but he was infatuated with her. He found the joys of a woman to be amazing, and wanted more. Unfortunately his pockets did not run deep enough for another round. Kedyn went and told his mother about the girl he had met. She was happy, but disappointed with him. She told him to not waste his money on foolish things like women.

But Kedyn could not stop; he was intoxicated with everything about them. Every town brought a new wonder, and new woman. He still had one problem with them, he could not talk to them. He would trip over himself when ever he saw them, mumble, and stutter with his words. They laughed at him, and Kedyn was hurt. Not knowing what to do he tried to impress them with his swords, but even then he was clumsy. They laughed all the harder, blushing bright red, Kedyn ran back to his mother.

“I hate girls, they’re mean to me.” He cried to his mother.

His mother laughed, and replied, “Don’t worry son, you’ll find the right woman someday.” Kedyn didn’t think he’d ever find the right woman, but who knows, maybe their was someone out their for him.

One day, while Kedyn was collecting firewood, his mother was taken from him. He returned with a bundle of firewood, and found their camp a mess. His mother’s clothes strewn everywhere, the place was ablaze. He wondered what had happened to her, where she had gone. Though he was seventeen, he knew not of the bounty placed on her head. Searching wildly through the forest and through villages, he could not find her. Finally he sat down and cried, he cried for his mother, for himself, for everything he ever knew.
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Teh 1336 Pwn'r
1336: Almost 1337, but not quite...

After three days of moping around, he picked him self up and thought, If I’m going to do anything with my life, I may as well start now… Taking nothing with him, Kedyn walked off down the path, his swords over his back, and knife in his pocket. It’s been Ten years since he’s seen his mother, and now he sits alone in a tavern, well dressed, but grizzled from the road.

Sitting there enjoying his soup and ale, he winked at the ladies sitting across from him. They giggled, just then he realized that ale had spilt down his chin and was staining his shirt.

“****!” Kedyn muttered, grabbing a napkin and trying to blot up the mess on his shirt.

The more he tried, the harder the girls laughed. He looked up and asked, “Do you mind? I could u-use a mind over here, I mean a hand.”

This they just couldn’t take it anymore, they fell out of their seats rolling on the floor laughing. Kedyn’s cheeks turned redder then the wine in the taverns keg. Kedyn left a gold piece on the table and then stormed out.

He never had any luck with girls; he was cursed. He hated, and loved them at the same time. He would do anything for them, if only they were to ask. Kedyn was heart-broken over today’s expedition into town, he had hoped to get lucky, and maybe find a girl to sleep with, but he was wrong. He couldn’t believe his clumsiness, it’s not like he lacked confidence, actually, he was bubbling with confidence. He just couldn’t show it around ladies…

Occasionally a girl asked him what his name was, and he always replied, “Kedyn.”

They would pester him, “Kedyn what? You must have a last name.”

“No sorry, I’m just Kedyn. Kedyn is my only name.”

“Well what was your mother’s last name?”

“She didn’t have one.”

“Oh… so why are you here?”

“Where else would I be?”

“I don’t know…”

“Then why bother asking?”

“I was just trying to make conversation!”

“You don’t ask stupid questions in a conversation!”

“Fine!”

The girl stormed out. Damn it, their goes a perfectly good opportunity to get with another girl. Kedyn thought.
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Teh 1336 Pwn'r
1336: Almost 1337, but not quite...

«Combat Situation» Kedyn climbed through the hole, following the cloaked figure. As soon as he was through the hole, he noticed he was in a corridor, cracked and old, with mold growing in where floor and ceiling meet wall. As Kedyn looked up, the cloaked figure shot at him. His cloak whipping behind him, like the sound of whips cracking. The smell of rotting flesh blasted by and infatuated Kedyn’s nostrils. He was ready to throw up. A dagger materialized in the figures hand, and then shot right at Kedyn’s face. He dived and rolled out of the way, drawing Sun and Moon, but as soon as he looked up, another one was hurtling for his chest cavity. Wildly flinging Sun infront of him, the dagger deflected, and went whizzing by his ear, splitting his ear lobe.

“AHHH!!!” Kedyn yelled in pain, as blood dripped from his ear, down to his shoulder. As he looked up another dagger came flying at him. This time it was far faster, and the only thing Kedyn could think to do was to roll left, so he did, and the dagger missed him by less then a quarter inch. Kedyn, panting for breath from this rush, jumped up, but right as he stood, the figure crashed heedlessly into Kedyn’s foot, a fourth dagger in his hand. Kedyn tried to spin on his right foot, but he was spinning the wrong way! Kedyn saw the dagger come in slow motion. It grazed his tunic, a splatter of blood flew out from Kedyn’s midsection. I scrape, nothing worse, Kedyn could breathe again.

He quickly raised his right foot and attempted an off balance kick at the creature’s midsection, attempting to get his foot out from under the pressure of the creature’s. Now spinning backwards, he was falling face first towards the ground. Continuing his twist, he broke his left ankle (having rotated almost 360 degrees on it) and threw first his pocket knife and then made a lunge at the creature, aiming for his midsection with moon, and making a higher sweeping motion with Sun.

Finally Done =)
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Teh 1336 Pwn'r
1336: Almost 1337, but not quite...

Fair enough, might I quickly inquire which parts of the bio?
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"That's like asking if Bob Dole = a leather glove... Technically no... But if you round...." ~Nessman121
WE LOVE THE SUBS COZ THEY ARE GOOD TO US!

Uhh, heh, I know you IG guys take this stuff very seriously, but I hardly think an online roleplaying faction could be compared to a business firm or college.

...Speaking of taking it seriously, you're doing that plenty yourself. I'm sure you've put a lot of work into the sign-up and whatnot, but you yourself said you could condense it; so why not condense it if they're asking you to do that? But whatever, s'your sign-up..
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Guildmaster » —[35 Stars]— of the Intrepid Genesis
sublime epiphany ~ Oh well.

Actually, I lied. There's really nothing wrong with your bio. I was tired last night. o_o
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Treasurer -[50 Stars]- of The Intrepid Genesis

No more room for a signup... I'll wait until the next topic starts up. =)

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The darker the night before the dawn, the brighter the rising of the sun.

Let's finish this.
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Tavern Keep -[35 Stars]- of The Intrepid Genesis

X is going to have to read through another long sign-up, heh-heh. Go Ayla. >_>
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Guildmaster » —[35 Stars]— of the Intrepid Genesis
sublime epiphany ~ Not that I'm for X's eyes being burnt out or anything... ^_^

As in, end the topic of course.
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Tavern Keep -[35 Stars]- of The Intrepid Genesis

Oh, naturally.
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Tavern Keep -[35 Stars]- of The Intrepid Genesis

Yay
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Guildmaster » —[35 Stars]— of the Intrepid Genesis
sublime epiphany ~ yay