RuneScape Forum Archive | Scions of Sorcery

NotFishing

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Still, he was relatively well-off, all things considered. The Duke visited him frequently. He was allowed access to the library, was tutored on a variety of subjects, and was well fed.

Despite being a constant reminder of their father's infidelity, he was able to get along well with the Duke's legitimate children - an older sister and a younger brother. He played board games with them, learning the importance of strategy, and soon proved superior. He sparred with his younger brother - first it was playfighting, as children do, but later it became serious training.

But as Gareth grew older and into his adult years, he eventually realized he would have to make a decision on what he would want to do with his life. Because he was illegitimate, he could not inherit land. And he couldn't just stay in the castle forever, leeching off the Duke's resources, while visitors looked at him as an oddity, and the Duke's wife looked at him with barely-concealed hatred. Not to mention the damage his birth had already done to his father's reputation. As generous as the Duke was, it just felt wrong to stay.

So, when he was nineteen, with a heavy heart he approached his father and explained why he needed to leave. He had to make a name for himself.

The Duke was reluctant, at first, but eventually relented, allowed Gareth to leave, but did not send him off empty-handed. He was given princely sum to ease his journey, which Gareth reluctantly accepted. To this day, he still writes to his father frequently, and occasionally visits.

Over the next few years, he used the money to make wise investments and purchases into several businesses and caravans, which proved to be quite profitable, granting a sizeable income that he could draw from should he need it. But the life of a businessman and merchant, though respectable, was quite dull. He wanted to make a name for himself through more than just shrewd investments and wealth. He wanted to be warrior and leader of renown; a hero. Beneath the gold, the Bitter Steel.

17-Mar-2017 16:17:56 - Last edited on 23-Mar-2017 02:06:23 by NotFishing

NotFishing

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He spent a small fortune on a well-made suit of armor, and signed a one-year contract with a mercenary company, in order to gain experience so he might eventually run one himself, and they roamed the land hunting bandits and protecting caravans, although he did not get along with the leader, who viewed Gareth as "just another highborn git." It also didn't help that Gareth had a natural desire to lead, and frequently offered alternative suggestions for dealing with problems - which the captain saw as attempts to undermine his authority.

Also, he wasn't that fantastic at combat. He thought it would come naturally to him - he was wrong. Thankfully, his armor saved his life on many an occasion, and he eventually improved, but right now he is still a mediocre warrior.

So, when the contract ran out, the mercenary captain was all too happy to kick Gareth from the group. Fortunately, he had made a few friends within the company, who were nearing the ends of their own contracts, and he suggested that they all leave to start their own company. Three of them agreed.

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Name: Bolag Groshub
Age: 29
Race: Orc

Appearance: Bolag stands at approximately six foot five, with the light green skin common among his kind. His tusks are short, approximately an inch long, and his eyes a dark brown. His hair is dark black, and tied back in a ponytail. But none of these are his most shocking features. No, the first thing one would notice by looking at him, is the massive brand on the left side of his face - two vertical lines with one horizontal line running through them.

Moving down to the rest of his body, Bolag is an Orc, and naturally he is very muscular. Scars serve as permanent reminders of previous hunts and fights - claw marks across his chest show where he was almost killed by a bear.

Attire: Bolag's casual attire consists entirely of a pair of fur pants, some leather boots, and leather bracers. That's it. Don't tell him to put on a shirt. Beneath the gold, the Bitter Steel.

17-Mar-2017 16:35:11 - Last edited on 23-Mar-2017 02:06:46 by NotFishing

NotFishing

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Equipment: Of course, going into battle bare-chested is far from practical, which is why Bolag has a boiled leather vest he only puts on before a fight. In the way of weapons, he has an Orcish longbow with a quiver of thirty arrows, and two brutal-looking Orcish war-axes on his belt.

Abilities: Adept Hunter, Light Infantry.

Retinue: See Gareth's bio.

Backstory: Bolag comes from a rather large Orcish clan, the second son of a renowned warrior. From a young age, he always showed an aptitude for the bow, and though his father insisted he learned the ways of the axe, it was ultimately the bow that he preferred. He would frequently go on hunts, and return with hides and meat to help keep his family warm and fed throughout many a cold winter.

And then, one night, Bolag was seen standing over the corpse of his elder brother, weapon bloodied.

In Bolag's clan, kinslaying was the worst possible crime an Orc could commit, and thus deserved the worst possible punishment. The clan's sense of kinship meant everything to its members, and so the worst possible thing was to be cast out. They gave him the Exile's Brand, and should he ever encounter his clan again, or someone from his clan, they are to kill him on sight. Bolag didn't defend even himself, and bore it all with a stony silence. After the brand was applied, he took his bow and his weapons, and left.

He wandered aimlessly for years, drifting between mercenary companies, trying to forget or redeem his past, and channeling all of his rage into fighting. Recently, he encountered some warriors who he found worthy of respect, and overheard their plans to leave the mercenary company he was currently stationing in. The leader of said company had always looked down on Bolag, believing him to be an idiot and underestimating his intelligence.

Bolag decided that these new men couldn't possibly be worse, and so he decided to join.

Other: Beneath the gold, the Bitter Steel.

17-Mar-2017 16:40:32 - Last edited on 17-Mar-2017 23:12:41 by NotFishing

NotFishing

Posts: 16,946 Opal Posts by user Forum Profile RuneMetrics Profile

Name: Darius Arenar
Age: 21
Race: Male

Appearance: Darius stands at an even six feet in height, with a tan skin tone, short black hair, dark blue eyes, and some stubble in the way of facial hair. He has no immediately noticeable blemishes on his face, and overall could be described as handsome.

Moving down to the rest of his body, Darius has a somewhat slim figure, built more for speed and agility than raw strength. That isn't to say he is weak - he just isn't the strongest person out there.

Attire: Darius's casual attire consists of a white cotton shirt, some brown leather pants, and a pair of black leather boots.

Equipment: Darius's equipment consists of a boiled leather vest, steel spaulders to protect his shoulders, steel gauntlets, leather pants with padding over the thighs and groin area, steel knee guards, steel greaves, and a longsword sheathed at his left hip.

Abilities: Major Pyromancy, Light Infantry

Retinue: See Gareth's bio.

Backstory: Darius was born in the capital city of Rome, where he spent much of his early life living in the slums. But despite his poor upbringing, he was well educated by his father, who had once been a prosperous merchant until he lost everything. He knew how to read and write, and was surprisingly quick minded.

In addition to this, he also learned how to defend himself in the streets, first with sticks, then with knives, and finally with a sword once he owned one. But although he wasn't reduced to joining any gangs, and avoided a life of crime, things were still difficult.

One night, when he was sixteen, he was walking home. He saw a robed figure lying in the street, in a pool of his own blood, a discarded bag lying nearby. The man was quite obviously dead, and anything of value was probably looted, but he rummaged through the bag anyways and found a leather-bound book. Whoever had knifed the man had probably been unable to read, and upon seeing no immediate value to the book, decided to abandon it. Beneath the gold, the Bitter Steel.

17-Mar-2017 16:40:42 - Last edited on 18-Mar-2017 04:04:39 by NotFishing

NotFishing

Posts: 16,946 Opal Posts by user Forum Profile RuneMetrics Profile

He stuffed it in his pack, alerted the guard, and then walked home and begun to read it. He soon discovered it was a spell tome on the basics of pyromancy. He skimmed through it, and after weeks of practice, discovered he could use magic. Unfortunately, fire was dangerous, and one day he accidentally burned the family home down. Nobody was killed, thankfully, and although his father was furious, he had also seen the magic, and recognized it as Darius's chance to escape the slums.

So, he was shipped off to a temple of Minerva to study magic, so he could better control and advance his understanding of pyromancy. He was also taught history and religion, and although he didn't take to it with any particular enthusiasm, he did develop something of a respect for the higher powers.

Eventually he began an affair with one of the priestesses, who was the same age of him. This was, of course, forbidden. Eventually, it was discovered, and he was forced to flee the city. He was thrown from the temple, and driven from the city, and he never able to find out what happened to her. All he could do was put his back to Rome and keep wandering.

He soon discovered that a man who could swing a sword and cast fire from his hands was in surprisingly high demand out in the surrounding area. He would sign on to guard caravans in exchange for a free ride and a bit of extra money. Eventually he signed on with a mercenary company, to secure a more stable employment. Unfortunately, the company was a bit too large, and the captain never took any particularly risky jobs, which meant there was less pay to be distributed among them.

During this time, he met Gareth, and the two became quick friends. When Gareth approached him with the idea of setting off on their own, he accepted. After all, if he was one of the first members and on good terms with boss, that meant he could potentially get a position of authority, more say in how the company was managed, and a higher share. Beneath the gold, the Bitter Steel.

17-Mar-2017 16:40:51 - Last edited on 18-Mar-2017 04:03:53 by NotFishing

NotFishing

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Name: Joric Ironfist
Age: 28
Race: Dwarf

Appearance: Joric stands at even four feet in height, with short, unkempt dark hair, and a six-inch long well-groomed beard. His eyes are a deep dark blue, and his skin slightly pale due to his years underground. There is a scar running halfway across his forehead, just above his left eye.

Moving down to the rest of his body, Joric is extremely muscular, with great strength and a hardy constitution, developed from years of hard work, training, and fighting. Like many warriors, he too has his fair share of scars.

Attire: Joric's casual attire is a simple grey shirt and grey pants, with a pair of sturdy, slightly worn leather boots.

Equipment: Joric is clad head to toe in steel plate armor, although his helmet does leave his mouth and beard exposed, and a has a two-inch long spike at the top. His steel boots also have spikes on the toes, making his kicks that much more deadly. He has both an axe, a sword, and a dagger belted to his hip, and the Ironfist family shield - glowing softly from a magic-resistant enchantment - on his back.

Abilities: Cataphract Infantry

Retinue: See Gareth's bio.

Backstory: Joric was born in an underground dwarven mining town, deep within the mountains, to a family of blacksmiths. From a young age, he had always been expected to take up the family trade. But after hearing stories about life on the surface, through books or visiting travelers, he began to develop other plans. He was fascinated with the old stories, of warriors saving towns and slaying beasts, traveling from place to place and seeing all corners of the world.

Normally, such youthful ambitions fade as one grows up. But in Joric's case, they didn't. He trained in secret, with cast-off weapons that were flawed in some way, and thus discarded, and when he was old enough, he enlisted in the village militia for additional training. Beneath the gold, the Bitter Steel.

17-Mar-2017 16:41:00 - Last edited on 23-Mar-2017 01:09:00 by NotFishing

NotFishing

Posts: 16,946 Opal Posts by user Forum Profile RuneMetrics Profile

He soon proved to be extremely proficient in combat, and his skills were the talk of the village, while his parents became increasingly worried that he planned to leave.

But despite his grand ambitions and dreams, he couldn't quite bring himself to leave his family behind. He kept telling himself he would go eventually, but he couldn't, and he was constantly unsure of himself.

And then the cave-in happened.

There was a deep rumbling in the mountain, and suddenly half the town was buried in a pile of rubble. To this day, no one knows what caused it. Perhaps an incident in the mines had caused a chain reaction?

Either way, nearly half the town had been annihilated in the blink of an eye. The townspeople dug through the rubble, Joric among them, desperately trying to find their kin. When the tools broke and they had none to spare, they used their bare hands. But soon, the prospect of finding more survivors had become hopeless.

None of Joric's other family members had survived. By the time his own home was unearthed, starvation had taken his father. The rest had been out in the streets, crushed beneath the rubble. All that was left was the Ironfist family shield.

He couldn't bring himself to stay. Even if the town would somehow recover, he could not remain behind after all that he had lost. He only thing he had left was his original desire to go to the surface. So he did, running away from his troubles and never looking back, for it was too painful.

For years, he traveled the surface, sometimes fighting in mercenary companies, and sometimes on his own. He protected caravans, slayed powerful monsters, saved villagers, and earned a sizeable income while doing so. He buried his inner turmoil and troubles beneath a facade of jokes, puns, and humor, trying to forget what had happened to him.

In his most recent mercenary group, however, his jokes were not particularly well received. Beneath the gold, the Bitter Steel.

17-Mar-2017 16:41:10 - Last edited on 23-Mar-2017 01:18:12 by NotFishing

NotFishing

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The captain and many of the higher-ups found them irritating and distracting, demanding he stop, or be thrown out of the company.

Instead, he left voluntarily. Fortunately, some of his friends, who had been far more receptive to his jokes, had similar ideas, and so he joined up with them. Beneath the gold, the Bitter Steel.

17-Mar-2017 16:51:43 - Last edited on 23-Mar-2017 01:19:45 by NotFishing

George Rozas

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Name: Gideon Steelwrought. "The Steelwrought Butcher".
Age: 232. Aged 36 prior to death.
Race: Unhallowed.

Appearance: Even in death Gideon is an imposing presence, his skeletal form riddled with dust and filth, dulling the original white of his skeleton to an almost ashen grey. He lost little of his great height when the flesh sloughed from his bones, standing tall at 6'4" with broad shoulderbones, an ethereal essence flowing throughout the interior of his body that looks like little more than a wavering of displaced air. Gideon's eye sockets, however, possess a burning white light that can only be seen by the crack of his helm.

Attire: Gideon has no need for standard clothing anymore.

Personality: Stoic, pensive... Benevolent.

Abilities: Cataphract Infantry.

Retinue: None.

Backstory: In life Gideon Steelwrought was callous and cold-hearted, the son of a Count who could not see what he would become. Throughout his youth Gideon was trained as a warrior, his great size and strength giving him a natural edge in the heat of combat, so much so that he 'accidentally' killed his first instructor during a sparring session. That was only the beginning.

Ambitious, arrogant and deadly, Gideon proved himself to be a warrior without parallel. When his father died and he became heir to the Steelwrought name, his first act was warfare. He mustered his land's soldiers, a substantial sized army, and led them in a bloody crusade through the neighboring counties to conquer all he could set eyes upon. Every battle he led from the front, charging into the masses of his enemies surrounded by his loyal, bloodthirsty troops, cleaving through them without remorse.

The Steelwrought Butcher earned that title. His ferocity drew mercenaries and soldiers to his cause, his forces cutting a swathe through the kingdom and laying claim to the territories conquered. For eight long years Gideon's campaign continued, the amassed forces of his neighbours barely holding out against the brutal I am Inferi.

17-Mar-2017 22:45:43

George Rozas

Posts: 35,406 Sapphire Posts by user Forum Profile RuneMetrics Profile

onslaught he battered them with day after day. The kingdom was in a state of utter chaos, and it seemed as though it would continue unabated for years to come.

But reinforcements came to Gideon's enemies. Powerful reinforcements his army could not push back, and in turn they found themselves being beaten back through their claimed territories. Surrender was no option to the Butcher, and he made sure every last inch that was lost was paid for with blood. Finally, the long war had pushed his forces back into their original homeland, and at the eleventh hour, when his enemies rallied and readied themselves for the final strike, a visitor came to the Butcher.

This visitor, this monster, offered to teach Gideon forbidden magic in exchange for a continuation of the bloodshed. Blinded by ambition and bloodlust, the Warlord readily agreed. Soon he was raising the corpses of the fallen to continue the war, fighting fervently at the front once again, but day by day surrounded by fewer and fewer living troops. Until one day, at the apex of a battle, an arrow pierced the Warlord's chestplate. The screams died out, the haze descended, and all was black.

At the fall of their Warlord what remained of his army lay down their arms in surrender. Order was reestablished and the dead were buried, but what would become of the Steelwrought Butcher? Out of respect for a powerful warrior he was lain to rest in a tomb, surrounded by his many arms and wearing his blood-soaked armour. But in an effort to scrub his legacy out for good, his tomb was permanently sealed and left to be forgotten.

Three years later, Gideon awoke to darkness and confinement.

One hundred and ninety one years Gideon spent sealed within that tomb, his ghostly screams unanswered, his weapons battered and broken smashing them against the stone walls. As time passed, his fury became terror, became madness... And eventually, reflection. With nothing but time and a dark tomb he turned inwards, losing himself to I am Inferi.

17-Mar-2017 22:45:50

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George Rozas

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