05-12-2008, 05:58 AM
Freaking people made me wanna join DA. So I worked on making a character. I don't see any tags, so sorry if this needed one. Um... here goes.
Name: Whompt
Race: Half-Orc (Non-Transformer)
Starting Planet: Earth
Fighting Style: Playful and aggressive. Seeks strong foes, and attempts to bring strength out of weak ones.
Brief Bio: Born of a mixed heritage, Whompt never really fit in among his father's people. Since his mother was a slave, taken from her village during a raid, there wasn't really any option to join into a human town either. Still, growing up among a warring people toughened him up. Eventually, their vicious attitudes grew tiresome to the young half-orc. While they slaughtered innocents, he fought with honor, of sorts. Continually seeking stronger opponents, the barbarian left his people and began his journey abroad.
Physical Description: Broad of shoulder and dense of skull, Whompt shares alot of features with his orc father. A sloped forehead shadows charcoal eyes from the sun. Twin tusks peek out from between his lips, underneath the typical orcish pug nose. His green skin is criss-crossed with the scars of battle, and his head is bald, though whether it is shaved that way or natural is anyone's guess. Tree-trunk arms end in bear paws devoid of claws. Standing head and shoulders above a normal man, Whompt wears a pair of loose cotton slacks and little else, claiming that he prefers his protection of his own skin over any suit of armor.
Best Moves:
Barbarian Rage: Tapping into his savage heritage, Whompt can unleash remarkable power through losing his self restraint. While under the effect of his fury, the half-orc effectively loses his entire reasoning ability, attacking without thought to strategy or even to his own safety. However, for the practiced user of this technique, one finds that mortal blows no longer hurt as much, amazing feats of strength become child's play, and even a hopeless situation becomes domitable.
Spirit Axe: Unlike some fighter's ki weaponry, Whompt's axe is very much a material object. Nearly half again his size, and made of dense wood and hardened steel, this weapon is as much a part of the barbarian as his own hand. In fact, the connection between the two has become such that the fight-fiend can summon the axe to his hand from where ever it may be, in this world or the next. And unlike conventional weaponry, which may break or become dull, the magical enchantments on Whompt's cleaver make it nigh indestructable.
Fury of the Ancestors: Every so often, even a brute like Whompt comes across a foe that can shrug off his formidable offense. This ability helps the orc-blood get around that. By sacrificing accuracy, the savage warrior can increase his damage potential. The less chance to hit, the greater damage that will be dealt once a blow is landed, making this power perfect for fighting those slow, tank-like opponents.
Foresight of Doom: During his time with his father's people, Whompt underwent a ritual that would have made him into their ultimate weapon. Though the ceremony failed, in part due to Whompt's refusal to bow to the orcish god, he was blessed with a kind of gift. A vision came to him while the brute was under the mystic's drugs; one that depicted his death at the hands of a mighty dragon. Even though this sight was most likely a hallucination, Whompt believes it to be true wholeheartedly. And since he has such great conviction in its truth, the barbarian has found that even while on death's doorstep, he can muster the strength for one last blow.
Shockwave: Lacking the proficiency with energy attacks that other fighters take for granted, Whompt has surprisingly devised a way to deal with opponents who mistakenly believe he has no long range capability. The size of his axe, combined with the half-orc's impressive physical power, allows him to launch attacks even at a sizable distance. The gist of the technique is that a swing from Whompt's weapon actually creates a vacuum space in it's wake. This vacuum can travel for some time, and if it connects with a target it can cause skin to rupture and blood vessels to burst.
(Um.. the first one is basically your mindless fury style thing. While it won't give any actually stat boosts or penalties, it allows me to have roleplay Whompt as ignoring pain. Imagine Kenpachi from Bleach. The second one should be pretty straightforward. The third is a close-range kamehameha, with an accuracy penalty. The fourth best move is kinda iffy, even in my eyes. I wanted it to be a "one last attack after being beaten" thing, but I'm not sure if it'll fly. The last one should be easy to understand. Lemme know if there's any problems.)
Roleplay Sample:
Disappointment. It was the only emotion Whompt hated to feel, and these days he felt it more than he'd like. It was like buying a box of cereal, only to find out that someone had already taken the prize. It was infuriating to him, that knowledge that what you truly want is out of grasp. What the half-orc wouldn't give for some feeling of satisfaction; the kind that only comes from facing an opponent with the threat of death hanging over the battle. Standing amid his newest challengers, however, Whompt knew that these peons would barely be worth fending off.
Beady black eyes stared at him intently, eager to put blade to the barbarian's flesh. Not even half his size, their ashen skin gleamed with a mixture of sweat and grime under the sun's bright gaze. Having caught the orc-blood in a rare moment of contemplation on his favorite forest stoop, the annoying pests thought him to be an easy kill. They were goblins, and a fair number of them too. Whompt tried to count how many there were, but math had never been his strong point.
One... two... five... six... four...
The half-clothed brute gritted his tusks in frustration for a moment, wishing he could use his fingers as a guide. Curse that Orcish education system. His demeanor soon calmed, as Whompt's mind came to the conclusion that it didn't matter anyway. Whether one or a thousand, this type of opponent wouldn't even be enough for him to break a sweat. Rising to his bare feet, a grin playing on his scarred features, the green-skinned goliath spoke.
"If you want take Whompt down, all come at once. Whompt no have fun kill one at time."
It took the vermin a moment to understand the unintelligent half-orc's broken speech. Eventually, one figured it out and stepped closer through the tall grass and brilliant flowers that made this spot so comforting to the veteran warrior.
"If you want to die so badly, then so be it, half-breed."
That said, the group lunged forward as one, their tiny daggers glinting in the sunlight.
Name: Whompt
Race: Half-Orc (Non-Transformer)
Starting Planet: Earth
Fighting Style: Playful and aggressive. Seeks strong foes, and attempts to bring strength out of weak ones.
Brief Bio: Born of a mixed heritage, Whompt never really fit in among his father's people. Since his mother was a slave, taken from her village during a raid, there wasn't really any option to join into a human town either. Still, growing up among a warring people toughened him up. Eventually, their vicious attitudes grew tiresome to the young half-orc. While they slaughtered innocents, he fought with honor, of sorts. Continually seeking stronger opponents, the barbarian left his people and began his journey abroad.
Physical Description: Broad of shoulder and dense of skull, Whompt shares alot of features with his orc father. A sloped forehead shadows charcoal eyes from the sun. Twin tusks peek out from between his lips, underneath the typical orcish pug nose. His green skin is criss-crossed with the scars of battle, and his head is bald, though whether it is shaved that way or natural is anyone's guess. Tree-trunk arms end in bear paws devoid of claws. Standing head and shoulders above a normal man, Whompt wears a pair of loose cotton slacks and little else, claiming that he prefers his protection of his own skin over any suit of armor.
Best Moves:
Barbarian Rage: Tapping into his savage heritage, Whompt can unleash remarkable power through losing his self restraint. While under the effect of his fury, the half-orc effectively loses his entire reasoning ability, attacking without thought to strategy or even to his own safety. However, for the practiced user of this technique, one finds that mortal blows no longer hurt as much, amazing feats of strength become child's play, and even a hopeless situation becomes domitable.
Spirit Axe: Unlike some fighter's ki weaponry, Whompt's axe is very much a material object. Nearly half again his size, and made of dense wood and hardened steel, this weapon is as much a part of the barbarian as his own hand. In fact, the connection between the two has become such that the fight-fiend can summon the axe to his hand from where ever it may be, in this world or the next. And unlike conventional weaponry, which may break or become dull, the magical enchantments on Whompt's cleaver make it nigh indestructable.
Fury of the Ancestors: Every so often, even a brute like Whompt comes across a foe that can shrug off his formidable offense. This ability helps the orc-blood get around that. By sacrificing accuracy, the savage warrior can increase his damage potential. The less chance to hit, the greater damage that will be dealt once a blow is landed, making this power perfect for fighting those slow, tank-like opponents.
Foresight of Doom: During his time with his father's people, Whompt underwent a ritual that would have made him into their ultimate weapon. Though the ceremony failed, in part due to Whompt's refusal to bow to the orcish god, he was blessed with a kind of gift. A vision came to him while the brute was under the mystic's drugs; one that depicted his death at the hands of a mighty dragon. Even though this sight was most likely a hallucination, Whompt believes it to be true wholeheartedly. And since he has such great conviction in its truth, the barbarian has found that even while on death's doorstep, he can muster the strength for one last blow.
Shockwave: Lacking the proficiency with energy attacks that other fighters take for granted, Whompt has surprisingly devised a way to deal with opponents who mistakenly believe he has no long range capability. The size of his axe, combined with the half-orc's impressive physical power, allows him to launch attacks even at a sizable distance. The gist of the technique is that a swing from Whompt's weapon actually creates a vacuum space in it's wake. This vacuum can travel for some time, and if it connects with a target it can cause skin to rupture and blood vessels to burst.
(Um.. the first one is basically your mindless fury style thing. While it won't give any actually stat boosts or penalties, it allows me to have roleplay Whompt as ignoring pain. Imagine Kenpachi from Bleach. The second one should be pretty straightforward. The third is a close-range kamehameha, with an accuracy penalty. The fourth best move is kinda iffy, even in my eyes. I wanted it to be a "one last attack after being beaten" thing, but I'm not sure if it'll fly. The last one should be easy to understand. Lemme know if there's any problems.)
Roleplay Sample:
Disappointment. It was the only emotion Whompt hated to feel, and these days he felt it more than he'd like. It was like buying a box of cereal, only to find out that someone had already taken the prize. It was infuriating to him, that knowledge that what you truly want is out of grasp. What the half-orc wouldn't give for some feeling of satisfaction; the kind that only comes from facing an opponent with the threat of death hanging over the battle. Standing amid his newest challengers, however, Whompt knew that these peons would barely be worth fending off.
Beady black eyes stared at him intently, eager to put blade to the barbarian's flesh. Not even half his size, their ashen skin gleamed with a mixture of sweat and grime under the sun's bright gaze. Having caught the orc-blood in a rare moment of contemplation on his favorite forest stoop, the annoying pests thought him to be an easy kill. They were goblins, and a fair number of them too. Whompt tried to count how many there were, but math had never been his strong point.
One... two... five... six... four...
The half-clothed brute gritted his tusks in frustration for a moment, wishing he could use his fingers as a guide. Curse that Orcish education system. His demeanor soon calmed, as Whompt's mind came to the conclusion that it didn't matter anyway. Whether one or a thousand, this type of opponent wouldn't even be enough for him to break a sweat. Rising to his bare feet, a grin playing on his scarred features, the green-skinned goliath spoke.
"If you want take Whompt down, all come at once. Whompt no have fun kill one at time."
It took the vermin a moment to understand the unintelligent half-orc's broken speech. Eventually, one figured it out and stepped closer through the tall grass and brilliant flowers that made this spot so comforting to the veteran warrior.
"If you want to die so badly, then so be it, half-breed."
That said, the group lunged forward as one, their tiny daggers glinting in the sunlight.
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