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Name - Olphane Rourke
Age - ??
Height - 5 foot 6
weight - very light weight.
Appearance - Roughly 5foot 6inches, the undead marauder has decayed flesh and a putrid smell, hidden with help from a mage he had associated with some time ago. His chest is covered by a tight dark red shirt, some signs of restitching are apparent, overtop is a black leather vest that slips on over his head, white fur lines the waist and neck, coming out like a V and circling around the back starting from just under his neck. His rotting hands are covered by thick black leather, small metal plates are on the knuckles, the part extending up to his wrist is worn but durable with thick white strings keeping it on his hand firmly. Padding covers his fingers to keep them steady and safe.
His belt is a deep grey with small round metal parts around at an inch apart all around, a firm buckler keeps it fastened, the loops of his black pants overtop, the pantlegs extend down to his thigh before simply deteriorating into tatters. Dark brown boots with black strings for support are on his feet, the bottoms are worn and discoloured from the years of use.
He wears a Large hood over his face, a second cloth extends to cut off his mouth and nose, the only visible part of him left is the yellowish glow that show’s his eyes. The cloth is black with red lining, tattered and worn much like the rest of his clothes.
Personality - a kind individual despite his undead state, often time’s going out of his way to help a friend in need, as friendship for him comes rarely and often with the thought of betrayal. Quiet and relaxed due to his inability to feel a large part of his body, he tends to fight with all of his power over the slightest thing, due to his strange belief that his opponent is out to stop him from finding what he lost. Enraging quickly because of that.
Background story -Olphane died at an early age, roughly 23 when he was in his home country, the name was scoured from his memory upon his death along with everything he held dear. Undeath creeped into his veins and reanimated his flesh, he was roughly 34 when he awoke. People tried to kill him but he found their blades spears did nothing to harm him as he just seemed to get back up or kill them first.
His body was dead but his skill remained, the years of training with the batons of his youth had remained somehow through his death, through the villages he went in the cover of night. A marauder who needed no sleep and no food, who’s mere presence chilled the blood of men. He fought. Guards and warriors alike. He tore through the countryside for years before falling to a warrior of the light, a man who spared him his resting place. Stricken by rage the undead Olphane lashed out at the man who had denied him his final rest, the blow he Inflicted crushed the man’s arm and the second broke his neck.
As the warrior fell dead to the ground it was then that Olphane realized he didn’t care. He had stopped caring about battle and who was strongest for he had just betrayed something in his soul. He had killed a man who had spared him. Horriffied at himself the undead creature ran from the countryside to wander aimlessly, he watched and observed to try and regain a sense of what he lost. It came back almost 15 years later. He watched a band of murderers and thief’s break into an armory late one night and purely on instinct he went to them. Upon seeing the creature they lashed out violently only to meet their doom shortly. The armory owned came to investigate the noise and saw the undead man finish off the thugs. Spotting the man, Olphane ran but was not persued.
A few years later, he was told of a school for things like him from an anonymous tipster. With a resound sigh the creature followed the path to his destiny.
Type - Undead fighter.
Weapon - Metal batons.
Footlong clubs with a jagged end for increased striking damage. A handle has been placed 3 inches up the pole to allow rotation from the long range swiped to the close crushing blows.
A spring loaded trap at the bottom end of the baton will launch a small needle with a poisonous tip, capable of tranquilizing the infected area for up to 24 hours, causing it to become numb and unresponsive, depending on how deep the needle goes will effect how much of the paralysis poison is injected due to the strength of it being minimal.
Heard you needed a new character, so this one was dug up in me and Fenix's old chest of Finished/potential CS', just thought I would help out a little.
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Fenix13: I want you dead. Badly.
Zath: I second this motion.
Last edited by Seirui on Fri Jul 02, 2010 7:36 pm, edited 1 time in total.
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