@Red_Tower - I would prefer that there are no planeswalker characters, since it would take a considerable amount of weight from the story if they are free to planeswalk away and back whenever they want.
An echo has stirred around the multiverse... rumors of a chronomancer with powers beyond his own control. A cat in goggles that always seems to find his way into deadly situations and fearsome contests without actually wanting to be part of them, and yet somehow managing to come out on top every time. However, no one has gotten to know him well... because he keeps flickering. Over... and over... and over... this unfortunate lad has been given a powerful gift and a terrible curse; the ability to manipulate time and space, but no way to do so controllably. Sometimes he'll end up waking up only to find that he's gone back seven days, other times he'll hit his head and wake up on a completely different plane... and this time, he ended up here.
No one remembers him entering the Tournament of Champions, not even himself. He just appeared out of nowhere at the start, and somehow, everything was official. All necessary papers had been signed and dated, all arrangements have made for him to enter, and, like a universal running gag, everything seems to be keeping him from escaping this next great challenge...
~ Bio ~
Full Name: Ytsix Putin Pax Gender: Male Age: ~210, biologically 22 and aging backwards Hometown: Genos, Elysium, New Tommia Race: Leonin Occupation: Artificer, Alchemist, Mage, Chronomancer Alignment: Neutral Good Favorite Food: Lobster Favorite Drink: Coffee/Butterbeer
Ytsix used to be a researcher for Group #0 on New Tommia. His father, Getsix, was a planeswalker, and his mother Nieda was a teacher at a high ranking academy. This allowed him to dedicate his life pursuits to accomplishing something that hasn't been possible since the Mending; a device that allows people to travel between planes without a spark.
Through Ytsix's 72 years of time on New Tommia, he couldn't seem to make an interplanar travel device that worked. He's responsible for making the first reliable mass teleportation system on Elysium, as well as a device for storing objects in pocket dimensions, a prototype mech suit, and an age reversing device that he's since been unable to replicate. However, it wouldn't be until around the end of that 72nd year, after his mother had passed and his father had moved on to greater things, that his wish'd be granted, but at what cost?
It was a long and tireless week. A spark of genius ignited in Ytsix's head (no, not a planeswalker spark!). What if he'd been thinking of things wrong this entire time? What if, rather than transporting something from one place to another, he connected the points in reality together? He cackled, and set to work without ever sleeping, powered by inspiration, the energy cell in his prosthetic arm, and a dangerous amount of coffee. By the end of the week, he had done it! Now all that was left was to test his new invention!
He set the device up... he really missed his father, so he decided he would pay him a surprise visit! He should have been on Alara, so if he just set the frequencies, make the preparations, and- uh oh...
The device began to whir up without his input. It jiggled, rattled, and glowed. It rose into the air, and wisps of light blue energy began to surround him as the entire lab seemed to warp. Ytsix was consumed, and suddenly, a massive explosion rang out, destroying the city and sending Ytsix away to a far-off land 100 years in the past...
~ Signature Spell ~
Throughout Ytsix's travels, he's ended up on several planes and in several contests, including a dreaded simulation of gladiatorial combat set in a Phyrexian arena. There, he finally learned how to create minor manipulations in time that he can control using a limited amount of mana. Ever since, he has used his skills to propel himself or others forward in time, or send himself or others back. It's a great way to get a little extra time when it's needed, pass it by, or confuse an enemy.
(Minor update: Tweaked set symbol, fixed syntax error with Chronoripple.)
The wood of the old ship squeaked as it turned and
twisted with the motion of the sea. Beneath deck in a dark corner stood a woman, looking out through a hole in the wall. She scanned the morning sky but all she
could see was clouds and seagulls. She turned away from the hole and walked over to a pile of boxes, barrels and other containers filled with supplies.
Almost as hidden behind the boxes, she found a man sitting on the floor. He was
dressed in old but well maintained plate armour, and in his hand, he held a
sheathed longsword.
The woman, Iseabel, sat down on her knees beside
the man. She raised her hand and stroke it against the man's cheek. His skin
was cold and had lost most of its colour turning almost grey and his scars were
still wet. The man, Steaphan, stared straight forward with grey lifeless eyes.
Iseabel raised her other hand and turned Steaphan's head towards her. Their
eyes met - but their souls did not. Iseabel stared into Steaphan's eyes but she
could not see - him. All she saw was grey eyes staring back at her. She knew
within her heart, she did not dare to doubt, that somewhere deep inside those
eyes Steaphan's soul could be found.
She released Steaphan's head, and sat down beside
him with her hand on top of his. She watched a stream of light - that came out
from a hole in the roof - move slowly across the room as the ship was turning.
The light moved towards them and up on Steaphan's chest where is stopped as the
ship stabilized. Was the light mocking their fate, or was in an indication that
they might finally have come to the right place? She wondered.
The images came back into her head as she heard
the seagulls outside and the stream of light on Steaphan. She saw the angels
descend from the sky with the sun shining bright in their back. Heads rolling
down the red blood stained stairs. The dead rotten animals burning in piles.
She remembered the smell of burning rotten flesh all too well, but the memories
did not bother her as they had done years before.
A man shouted from the deck above. Iseabel watched
other figures in the dark as they began to pack down their things, and wake
their companions. Iseabelegrabbed a helmet on the other side of Steaphan, and
put it on him. She put on his gloves and hung a large bag over his shoulder.
Together with other passengers, Iseabel and Steaphan walked up the stairs into
the light as the ship arrived at the port.
A scream rang through the silent, dark castle. Lyuben sprung out of his large bed, panicked.
What was that?!
He grabbed a dim wax candle from his bedside table and raced down three flights of stairs. His brown hair was messy and he was still wearing his bright blue pajamas. Then Lyuben saw him on the floor. His worst nightmare was coming true. Lyuben dropped the candle, setting fire to the velvet carpet around him.
“No no no no no…”
The flames on the floor provided the only light to the horror scene unfolding in front of Lyuben. A teenage boy laid unmoving on the cold floor, his white shirt soaked in fresh blood. His dark hair was messy and his eyes were closed. Lyuben placed his shaking hand on the boy’s chest.
“No no no...he’s- he’s dead…”
Lyuben felt a tear form on the corner of his eye. It slid down his cheek and fell onto a bright red rose in his right hand. Lyuben looked down at the boy’s face: He was smiling.
“Of course, ” Lyuben chuckled sadly, “Always smiling. You were always smiling. Even in the face of death.”
Who did this?
“Son.”
Lyuben turned around to see his parents standing behind him. Their faces were emotionless. Lyuben saw a flash of silver disappear into his father’s robes: A dagger. Immediately, he knew what happened.
“You did this!?”
“We were trying to protect you…” his mom started.
“From what!?”
“He was not right for-”
“I already explained everything. I thought you understood.”
“We do,” they said. Lyuben could see his dad getting angry.
“And we know what’s right for you,” his mom added.
“You already know that people like you are hated here. It was quite kind for us to even keep you in this house!” Lyuben’s dad shouted, “When I found out who he was to you, I knew I had to end it.”
“Why?” Lyuben asked.
“Because I’ve always done what is right. We are the king and queen of this kingdom, and we must set an example for the people of this kingdom. We condemned your horrible behaviors and-”
“Killing him was setting the right example!?” Lyuben screamed to his father, “I loved him!”
“Killing him was our only choice,” the king responded bluntly.
“Now, come back to us. We can cure you…” The queen gestured for him to come closer. Lyuben backed away from his parents.
“I can’t.” Lyuben backed away from his parents. “You are not my parents. You’re monsters.”
“That leaves me no choice,” his father sighed.
The flames spread from the carpet to the castle walls. Lyuben stared coldly into his father’s eyes as his father came closer. “I trusted you....”
Lyuben knelt down and put his hand in his boy's.
“I’ll never forget you. I promise,” he whispered.
Lyuben took the rose from the dead boy’s hand. Then he looked up at his family one last time.
“Goodbye, father.”
Dark magic welled up in Lyuben’s hand. He held the rose close to his chest and closed his eyes.
A large explosion tore through the majestic castle like thin sheets of paper. Lyuben ran, avoiding the rubble and endless flames, not looking back once.
---
Lyuben and his signature card (more will be explained about the signature in the coming stories):
Personality:
After being betrayed by his parents (and his friends - you'll see this in the next part), Lyuben is very apprehensive of a relationship of any type. He has felt immense pain seeing his boyfriend being killed by his own parents. He also feels insecure about who he truly is, especially because he isn't accepted by his family and friends. His boyfriend's rose reminds him of the pain he felt, and keeps him away from socializing with others. It will take a lot to gain Lyuben's trust and begin a friendship. What Lyuben doesn't know, is that avoiding these "dark places" for him causes the pain to build up inside him. Every rose has its thorns, but Lyuben is too scared of the thorns to feel the beauty of the rose.
Fighting Abilities:
Though young, Lyuben is a talented cleric. He can wield powerful dark magic, but he can't control it very well because he is rather untrained. As a child, he was taught to keep his abnormal powers secret due to his high status.
Random Facts: Age: 19 Gender: Male Race: Human Occupation: Prince of Malterra, a kingdom very far from the place where the Tournament of Champions is hosted. Hair Color: Brown Eye Color: Brown Height: 5' 10'' Alignment: Neutral evil, though much closer to neutral than evil. Least Favorite Drink: Rose Tea (since it reminds him of his dead boyfriend) Favorite Food: Brownies (duh!) Favorite Drink: Hot Chocolate (he likes anything chocolate)
Motive: This will be revealed in the next story segment! I will update it here after posting!
Oh, joy, we have Zalgo again. There's no way this won't turn out fun.
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What would a dream be? An unconscious imagination? A mirage between emotion and reason? We could say for sure that this is a world parallel to ours. "The world is made through dreams", really! It is in this world that inhibition disappears and creativity is increased. We can enter this world through several gates beyond sleep. The moon ... look, we forgot about the moon. Take a deep breath. Everything in its time. Gods. Of course they would go into that story. Who was the first to enter this dream world? When it comes to creationism everything is clouded by questions, questions to "write nice". We are talking about the great nothing and unexplored universe, the god recognized as Greek Chaos, transmutation of the elements. His daughter Nix was responsible for the darkness of the night. Her husband, on the other hand, was Erebo, who was the darkness of the earth and the underworld. Wars and more wars ... we skipped that part considerably. Conclusion: Erebo imprisoned Nix within himself and destroyed the night. So would it be daytime at all times? No. Nix was a mantle, which when destroyed the primordial god Chaos appeared with his thousands of stars. Another leap in time ... When he realized the admiration of men for the stars that on the nights destroyed by Erebo, Chaos granted a young and beautiful daughter, Nova-Nix, goddess of the starry nights. However, the stars were not enough for the admiration of men, the inspiration to move on. With great effort and help from other gods, the imposing moon in its most attractive form, the Full Moon, appeared. Since then the moon has been part of our dreams. Its light expanded imagination, creativity, willpower and many other feelings during our visits to the parallel world of dreams. Our Solitary friend, on the other hand, is neither a god or a mirage (until proven otherwise), but a simple man with his spear and wearing a black overcoat, always complemented by brightly colored shirts and a cynical smile. Calm temperament, always lying, cold, sometimes gentle or aggressive. Everything arrogant he has, but he never let these defects harm anyone. It is not known for sure what he is, but in the world of dreams he can be seen wandering around the crescent moon and the magnificent full moon. On the new moon he descends from the moon in this fantasy world and interacted with the dreamers and their dreams. The certainty that one has about him are his senseless phrases is that they always end up freeing the dreamers who heard them, making those few minutes in this world decisive and unique to explore in a healthy way everything around him. A unique power. His admiration for the moon has always been because of the strength she carries, the grandeur that great inspirations bring. The moon in the dream world is positioned at the center of all creation, which is infinite in nature, on top of a large and infinite black precipice, a large black hole. The Loner wanders and moves on the moon as if there was an invisible asphalt to guide him. Today, there is no knowledge of what happens to those who fall into the abyss of dreams, but what many infer that is the end of sanity. After many drawn dreams and great confrontations, he finally managed to move between the real world outside of dreams, bringing with him all the power of the majestic moon. His goal is still a mystery, but the will to do right and bring freedom is still at its heart.
Arha turned another page of her book. It was a good way to pass the time while she was on the ship, and she enjoyed reading regardless. She barely looked up from it when someone knocked quietly on her door.
"Ms. de Mira?" a sailor said from the other side of the door. "The ship's coming into port."
Arha looked up then. "Thank you," she called. She got up and closed her book, putting it into her suitcase. She gathered her things and added them to the suitcase. Before putting her sword into the suitcase, she checked to make sure it wouldn't accidentally slip out of its scabbard. After she had, she pulled on a flat cap and made her way up to the deck.
As she stepped off the ship, Arha took a deep breath of air before letting it out. She always liked seeing new places, even if she was here on other business. It was part of why she had become a knight and a diplomat.
Walking along the dock, Arha briefly went over what she was going to do. Join the Tournament, test her own skill and that of others, see if she could find new allies... A simple plan, all around. The only problem was figuring out where she needed to go. Noticing several other people disembarking who looked like they were looking for the Tournament, Arha decided to follow them. She might as well try and get a read on them before the Tournament began.
Arha de Mira is an emissary for her homeland, the elven kingdom of Qan Maris. While she often acts as a diplomat, she is also confident in her abilities as a mage-knight and acts as such, both in combat and in casual conversation.
Personality As a diplomat and knight, Arha usually presents a calm, polite face to everyone she meets, even people that she's fighting against. It takes a great deal to anger her, and even then she never completely loses the calm politeness. She believes in testing potential allies' strength, both physical and mental, to make sure that they meet her standards.
Fighting Abilities Arha is a confident fighter, fearlessly facing her foes. Along with her martial skill as a knight, she also uses basilisk and strength magic to help herself and her allies, as well as to see if her opponents are worth making allies. However, most of what she is capable of is short-ranged, and the only real defense against long-range opponents is toughing out their attack and bringing the fight to them
General Stats Home: Qan Maris, Avelaide Age: 137 Species: Elf Gender: Female Occupation: Diplomat, knight Alignment: Lawful Neutral Motive: Testing her abilities and those of her fellow champions and finding new allies
The annual Merchant's League Ball, 6 months before the tournament. "Ladies and gentleman, may I present the honorable Merson Reveeri, and his daughter, Conscience Reveeri!" An announcer, standing at two great doors, which looked over a grand ballroom. Chatter stopped abruptly, as everyone turned to look at the opening doors. A middle aged man, clad in the finest clothes that could be found in this part of the world, walked through, followed by a teenage girl. This girl was clad the same, in a dress, a necklace of pearls adorning her neck. Cheers followed their descent down the stairs, and both waved greetings in the general direction of friends. At the bottom of the staircase, both were greeted with friendly shouts, questions about business, and champagne glasses offered by servants. Immediately hitting his glass with a small fork, which seemingly appeared out of nowhere, the masses quieted, allowing him to speak. "Everyone! I come to this," He looked down his nose at everyone around them, "great ball, to share most extraordinary news! My daughter, Conscience, will be entering the Tournament of Champions, in 6 months!" Looking around, he met nothing but silence. Then...
"Her?" A skeptical voice called out.
Three months later
Stepping off the boat, Conscience gazed upon the city that would be her home for the next few months. It wasn't that bad, but it didn't compare to anything back home. Sighing, she stepped off the plank, heading into the city.
(cards link to mtgcs versions)
Personality Conscience is a confident young woman, and treats everyone like she knows she is better than them. She is always calm, and appears like a genteel merchant's daughter. She is angered easily, and expresses it calmly, with a quiet fury. She takes revenge on those who wrong her swiftly, and takes revenge to extremes. She has no moral compass, and does whatever suites her best. Skills Conscience was brought up as a merchant's daughter, so she has the skillset of a merchant. She is intelligent and charismatic, and also maintains an athletic lifestyle, and knows multiple forms of martial arts. She prefers to use weapons in combat, mainly daggers, however, on the outside, it seems like she is simply a helpless merchant's daughter. Magic Conscience commands an impressive array of magic: soul magic and debt magic. She uses her debt magic against magic users, giving them some magic, then taxing it away, then using her increased amount of magic to kill the opponent using soul magic. Random Things Age: 18 Gender: Female Race: Human Height: 5'5.75 Weight: 105 lbs Favorite things to do: Shop, read, practice magic Motives for coming to Tournament of Champions: Exposure, fame, fighting good peopleTr Trolley Dilemma: Would offer both parties a choice of death or paying her, the party who pays the least/chooses death she kills. Alignment: Neutral Evil Random Assorted Facts: - Extremely competitive - Enjoys gambling, but not losing - Dislikes others who cheat, but likes to cheat - Doesn't trust easily - Likes having friends, but finds it hard to keep a friend for long due to her opinions
The moon was shining bright over the city streets. A pack of street dogs have come out of hiding to drink from the red stream that is crawling down the street between the pavement stones. "Gaahh! Haaaa!" a man shouted from the alley further up. The dogs ran away as the sound of metal hitting the stone pavement echoed between the building.
An ax lied in a pool of dark blood and pieces of flesh. Above the pool lied a corpse of a man who's head had been cracked open with bits of his brain and skull shattered around the pavement. Further away lied a severed head inside an iron helmet. A man fell to the ground, exhausted and furious. Two other men stood further away, one of them, a younger man, held his hands over a bleeding wound in his abdomen. He stared with shock in his eyes on the blood beneath his feet. His voice was shaking, and his eyes were filled with tears. The exhausted man looked before him at the severed head and the body that it had just belonged to, the body of a knight. He turned his eyes and looked at two other corpses further down and then at the woman.
"What? Too afraid to run? Go on, run... RUN YOU FORKING BIOTCH!" The man yelled at the woman. The woman, Iseabel, did not run. Instead she began moving towards the man. "What? Did you like what I said earlier. So you are a good little whore after all." "I think I'm going to die, Jorald." The wounded man cried. "Don't interrupt me!" Jorald yelled. Iseabel stopped just before the decapitated head of her knight, of Steaphan. She leaned down and took it up in her arms. Then she walked towards the body. "What? You care for that numb tin can? He did his job did he not? Run away or I will do to you what he did to Robb, and then drop your corpse in the fucking sea!" Jorald looked at the man with the crushed skull.
"I'm dying, Jorald." The young man cried. "Ughh, Velrin, make your little brother shut the fuck up" Jorald yelled. Velrin, the man holding the young man in his arms, looked up with empty eyes. A cold feeling ran through Jorald's spine. He looked back as Iseabel who held Steaphan's head towards his neck. His skin around the wound was growing wet and the flesh began to vibrate slightly. After a short time, Iseabel leaned her mouth towards Steaphan. "Rise, brother, rise again. Your duty is not over, and neither is mine. Rise so that we may pursue it together." Black smoke escaped the wound on his neck as the flesh pulled itself together, sealing the wound.
Jorald's eyes widened as he watched the dead knight turn his head. He moved his hands, his arms, his feet, his legs. He rose up and grabbed his sword. Then he approached the two men still alive. "Necromancy... She is a necromancer! She is..." Jorald's scream as interrupted to the sound of his skull being crushed against the wall behind him. Velrin remained silent.
------------------------------------- Sometime later
Iseabel and Steaphan stood at the docks of the city with the sun burning above. She looked at another figure in the distance. "Death is playing chess again and that one there is one of the pieces. One of sixteen pawns." Iseabel felt someone approaching them. She barely got time to turn around before the person welcomed them.
Hero: Iseabel Rathais Cursed by both the demonic and the divine. A necromancer from young age. Fooled by a demon into a path she should never have have set foot on. Hated by her mother and sisters, threatened with death by her father, outcast by her village and friends. Only Steaphan cared for her when her secret was revealed.
Neither good nor evil, she does not care for the lives or fates of others, but is capable of committing acts of both good and evil, though not very common. She has an burning hate for both angels and demons alike. Her hate is also a cover for the fears she has of the might of angels, and the deception of demons. A fear she would never reveal. Otherwise she fears nothing as she believes that Steaphan can deal with anything - with her help. He shall rise over and over, time and time again. Only by her death will he receive an end.
She has great skills with necromancy but she rarely raises anyone or anything else but her brother. She do however occasionally raise smaller creatures as rats and bats to do her biding as they are easier to control and are less likely to reveal her powers.
Home: Unknown Age: 28 Alignment: Neutral Motive: Retrieve her brother's soul. Powers: Necromancy. Without contact she can bring Steaphan back to unlife, with contact she can mend his body back together. She is capable of some direct spells for defense that can turn her enemies weak and fragile, while killing lesser things as cats and dogs. Personality: Cold and hateful, rarely talks to anyone but her brother. She does not trust anyone except her brother. She tries not to draw unwanted attention to herself or her brother, unless neccesary for her goal of retrieving her brother's soul. She is haunted by old traumatic memories and suffers from PTSD. She is able to resist the impact of her memories but sometimes she get relapses where the memories breaks her down.
Companion: Steaphan Rathais Caught in the middle, killed by those he served. Once he was a knight serving the greater good. Now he is dead and not even his sister is sure if his soul is still inside his body, or if he has truly become nothing but an empty husk.
Home: Unknown Age: Dead (Killed 7 years ago at 24 years age) Alignment: None Motive: None Powers: The strength and skill of a well trained knight but undead. His strength and regenerative abilities can be enhanced by Iseabel's magic. Personality: None
As with all libraries, there was an oppressive silence in the air. Students studied, the homeless rested, and children delighted in the rereading of their favorite fairy tales. Amid the quiet bustle, a rather large man shuts a book of children's stories with his calloused hand, having finished reading it from page to page, and the young ones who'd been seated in front of him scattered. He stands up with a sigh and moves to put the back where he'd found it, passing the small tireless librarian on the way. He found this to be soothing, calming. Reading stories to the children took him to his own fairy tale, where everything was tranquil yet joyous, and he could relax. It'd been seven months since he'd heard from Rugal.
The man leaves the library, walking down the front steps in a casual pace, and began to head home. He took a turn down a back alley since it was quicker than taking the main roads, and he wanted to avoid the rain. Rain only brought gloom and sorrow, something he wanted no part of. As long as he was in his happy calm state, he'd be fine. But it couldn't last forever.
"Where do you think you're going, old man?" The man looks up and see three young men in front of him, the oldest of which couldn't have been more than 20. A paltry number compared to his 39 years in this land. "Well, I'm going home," he responds quietly. "Why do you ask?"
"This is Thorn territory, geezer, and no one trespasses without paying the price!" insists the oldest boy. Their clothes seemed to be damaged from wear, an indication of a lack of funds.
"I do not have any money with me," retorts the man cooly.
"Well, ain't that a shame." The young men begin to advance, pride in their gait.
You know what they're going to do, Damien. The man gasps. That voice. He hadn't heard it in seven months. If you don't defend yourself, they'll kill you. He thought he'd been finally freed from it. How could he have been so foolish to think so? His heart beats faster, the anxiety taking hold. He needed to keep his calm, but now the young men were holding knives. The voice was right, but he didn't want to believe it. What was he going to do? He couldn't do nothing, but he didn't want to do anything. His indecisiveness grew into panic, and he lets out an inhuman sound, a roaring scream that echoed through the alley way.
When it rains, it pours. The city hadn't seen a rainfall this severe since the end of the last spring season. The man washes his hands in a puddle that'd formed by the side of the street. This is our nature, Damien. You cannot escape it. "If I cannot escape, there is not a point to living. You plague me like an eternal disease, and force me to fear I may hurt another." You're so stuffy, Damien. Your lectures make me want to kill myself if I weren't already dead. What if we were to use your gift on those who deserve it? Like criminals. Check that bulletin board, I bet we can find a juicy excuse for some violence.
The man sighs. he didn't want to indulge the voice, but he knew if he didn't it wouldn't shut up, and would likely send him into another blindness. He trudges over to the bulletin board. There were indeed bounty notices for individuals believed malicious, but a different flyer caught his eye. A tournament. He pulls down the parchment. A promise of battle to silence the voice, and it was quite a ways away. Perhaps some travel would allow him to live his fairy tale again.
Doctor Cypherous is an aetherborn wizard of Kaladesh who uses aether (and magical technology) to power his spells. heres some info about aetherborn on the wiki: https://mtg.fandom.com/wiki/Aetherborn
Name: Dr. Cypherous Homeplane: Kaladesh Birthplace: Kaladesh Home: Somewhere in Ghirapur Race: Aetherborn Age: 6 years (aetherborn have a lifespan of 4 years, but Cypherous has elongated his lifespan through magical means.) Gender: Aetherborn are genderless, but Cypherous identifies as male Occupation(s): Mage, inventor/engineer Hobbies: Conducting magical experiments, making things explode, developing/selling magical technology Alignment: Chaotic Neutral Alliances: The Renegades, formerly (the people who were fighting against the Consulate on Kaladesh) Goals: Furthering his knowledge and/or power, magically elongating his short lifespan Magical Abilities: lightning-related abilities (shooting lightning bolts, stuff like that.) Fighting Abilites: l i g h t n i n g, magic aether stuff Personality Traits: easily bored/short attention span, impulsive in many situations, doesn't show/express a lot of emotion most of the time, knows a lot about magic and magical items, usually creative in terms of plans and stuff Favorite Food: Aetherborn don't really... eat or drink... at all Favorite Drink: See Favorite Food
Sher coughed. He now understood what the traveller had meant. He stood, facing the lich that had haunted him for millenia, Orhaud. Then, refusing to be scared any longer, he stood up, and looked at the crumbling mountain, finding a way to get out. Then a sinister voice came out of the ashes.
"Now what did I tell you?" The traveller stood on a stone near Sher, laughing devilishly. "This realm is dangerous. Filled with unknown entities only the strongest can defeat. Unfortunately, when you left your father you had not trained to that level, not at all. You may be po-"
But Sher cut him off. "How do you know about my life story?" "I have been....Observing. I know the envy, passion and hate that burns inside of you. You came here to heal that, and you know you can't. Your honour is shattered, your logic marred by anger."
Sher was shocked. "W-wh-what do you me-mean?" "Your honour is lost. You are lost. The blind eternities are unforgiving, as you have damaged them. There is nowhere....." Then he thought. He thought for a while. Finally, he said, "There is one place you may go. In an ancient realm....." "The Tournament of Champions. That is where you may go. To retain your honour, and recover your dignity."
"That sounds great," Sher said. "Let's go." And they did.
***********************
Signature & Hero card.....
Sher of the Blind Eternities Unsubtle Demolition | Sher is a very rare being: |This one needs much less | | he can travel through the | of an explanation, as it's | | Blind Eternities even | a simple thing to explain.| | though he isn't a | This signature card is | | planeswalker. His | based on what happens | | personality is arrogant, | when Sher travels | | headstrong, attention- | planes, he uses so much | | seeking, impulsive and | energy that everything | | somewhat heroic. | weak round him sort of | | Undoubtedly his antics |dissolves, or shatters. For | | have got him into trouble, | now, this'll do as my | | but sometimes they lead to | signature card, but I'm | | great discoveries. In one | looking forward to | | catch-up, he was saving a | editing it. | small camp from liches. | ---------------------------------- | He met Orhaud, a lich | | warlord, who instantly | | took a disliking for Sher. | | Now they were sworn | | enemies, and constantly | | battling. | -------------------------------------------
Magic skills......
Sher is very powerful, with powers ranging from time-travelling to animation of paintings and drawings. But most notably, to bring alive banished/dead/exiled things. Creating something out of a mere shadow.
Bio....
Age: 278, genetically 16, but alive for 278 years. Very confusing, but it's true. How that happened is a long story.
Home plane/region: Alara, in the shard of Esper.
Gender: Male.
Race: Human. In an alternate dimension, he was a vampire, but this dimension is not alternate.
Height: 5'3"
Weight: 95 lbs
Favourite things to do: Smile, Laugh, Joke, Explore and have Intellectual talks with Zombies.
Motive: Revenge
Eye colour: Green
Hair colour: Brown
Allignment: Evil, sorta, but also very kind and caring. Very mixed up character.
Favourite food: Roast dragon
Favourite drink: Dustwillow tea (Y'know Davriel's favourite thing in the multiverse?) ===================================================================================
So that's it. Pretty long to write and I have about a 30% chance of qualifying, but it was still fun. Have a few notes for you lot as well.
@shadow123 You say you're very busy and can't commit to things, but you have time for something like ToC4? I'm not sayin' I don't want you to participate, just you say you're busy?
My favourite so far is definitely @CassZero's. Unique combination of shady backgrounds and awesome card designs!
@TheDukeOfPork Tournament of Champions is a saga that I'm really devoted to. I participated in the second and third iteration of this tournament, and was originally going to host ToC4, but Tenebris did instead. I'm still busy, but this saga is something that I'm really devoted to here on mtgcs. I love your champion by the way!
MTG Cardsmith Community Forums
Comments
No one remembers him entering the Tournament of Champions, not even himself. He just appeared out of nowhere at the start, and somehow, everything was official. All necessary papers had been signed and dated, all arrangements have made for him to enter, and, like a universal running gag, everything seems to be keeping him from escaping this next great challenge...
~ Bio ~
Full Name: Ytsix Putin PaxGender: Male
Age: ~210, biologically 22 and aging backwards
Hometown: Genos, Elysium, New Tommia
Race: Leonin
Occupation: Artificer, Alchemist, Mage, Chronomancer
Alignment: Neutral Good
Favorite Food: Lobster
Favorite Drink: Coffee/Butterbeer
Ytsix used to be a researcher for Group #0 on New Tommia. His father, Getsix, was a planeswalker, and his mother Nieda was a teacher at a high ranking academy. This allowed him to dedicate his life pursuits to accomplishing something that hasn't been possible since the Mending; a device that allows people to travel between planes without a spark.
Through Ytsix's 72 years of time on New Tommia, he couldn't seem to make an interplanar travel device that worked. He's responsible for making the first reliable mass teleportation system on Elysium, as well as a device for storing objects in pocket dimensions, a prototype mech suit, and an age reversing device that he's since been unable to replicate. However, it wouldn't be until around the end of that 72nd year, after his mother had passed and his father had moved on to greater things, that his wish'd be granted, but at what cost?
It was a long and tireless week. A spark of genius ignited in Ytsix's head (no, not a planeswalker spark!). What if he'd been thinking of things wrong this entire time? What if, rather than transporting something from one place to another, he connected the points in reality together? He cackled, and set to work without ever sleeping, powered by inspiration, the energy cell in his prosthetic arm, and a dangerous amount of coffee. By the end of the week, he had done it! Now all that was left was to test his new invention!
He set the device up... he really missed his father, so he decided he would pay him a surprise visit! He should have been on Alara, so if he just set the frequencies, make the preparations, and- uh oh...
The device began to whir up without his input. It jiggled, rattled, and glowed. It rose into the air, and wisps of light blue energy began to surround him as the entire lab seemed to warp. Ytsix was consumed, and suddenly, a massive explosion rang out, destroying the city and sending Ytsix away to a far-off land 100 years in the past...
~ Signature Spell ~
Throughout Ytsix's travels, he's ended up on several planes and in several contests, including a dreaded simulation of gladiatorial combat set in a Phyrexian arena. There, he finally learned how to create minor manipulations in time that he can control using a limited amount of mana. Ever since, he has used his skills to propel himself or others forward in time, or send himself or others back. It's a great way to get a little extra time when it's needed, pass it by, or confuse an enemy.
(Minor update: Tweaked set symbol, fixed syntax error with Chronoripple.)
Iseabel & Steaphan
The wood of the old ship squeaked as it turned and twisted with the motion of the sea. Beneath deck in a dark corner stood a woman, looking out through a hole in the wall. She scanned the morning sky but all she could see was clouds and seagulls. She turned away from the hole and walked over to a pile of boxes, barrels and other containers filled with supplies. Almost as hidden behind the boxes, she found a man sitting on the floor. He was dressed in old but well maintained plate armour, and in his hand, he held a sheathed longsword.
The woman, Iseabel, sat down on her knees beside the man. She raised her hand and stroke it against the man's cheek. His skin was cold and had lost most of its colour turning almost grey and his scars were still wet. The man, Steaphan, stared straight forward with grey lifeless eyes. Iseabel raised her other hand and turned Steaphan's head towards her. Their eyes met - but their souls did not. Iseabel stared into Steaphan's eyes but she could not see - him. All she saw was grey eyes staring back at her. She knew within her heart, she did not dare to doubt, that somewhere deep inside those eyes Steaphan's soul could be found.
She released Steaphan's head, and sat down beside him with her hand on top of his. She watched a stream of light - that came out from a hole in the roof - move slowly across the room as the ship was turning. The light moved towards them and up on Steaphan's chest where is stopped as the ship stabilized. Was the light mocking their fate, or was in an indication that they might finally have come to the right place? She wondered.
The images came back into her head as she heard the seagulls outside and the stream of light on Steaphan. She saw the angels descend from the sky with the sun shining bright in their back. Heads rolling down the red blood stained stairs. The dead rotten animals burning in piles. She remembered the smell of burning rotten flesh all too well, but the memories did not bother her as they had done years before.
A man shouted from the deck above. Iseabel watched other figures in the dark as they began to pack down their things, and wake their companions. Iseabelegrabbed a helmet on the other side of Steaphan, and put it on him. She put on his gloves and hung a large bag over his shoulder. Together with other passengers, Iseabel and Steaphan walked up the stairs into the light as the ship arrived at the port.
like can I make a character from ravnica?
Prologue:
A scream rang through the silent, dark castle. Lyuben sprung out of his large bed, panicked.
What was that?!
He grabbed a dim wax candle from his bedside table and raced down three flights of stairs. His brown hair was messy and he was still wearing his bright blue pajamas. Then Lyuben saw him on the floor. His worst nightmare was coming true. Lyuben dropped the candle, setting fire to the velvet carpet around him.
“No no no no no…”
The flames on the floor provided the only light to the horror scene unfolding in front of Lyuben. A teenage boy laid unmoving on the cold floor, his white shirt soaked in fresh blood. His dark hair was messy and his eyes were closed. Lyuben placed his shaking hand on the boy’s chest.
“No no no...he’s- he’s dead…”
Lyuben felt a tear form on the corner of his eye. It slid down his cheek and fell onto a bright red rose in his right hand. Lyuben looked down at the boy’s face: He was smiling.
“Of course, ” Lyuben chuckled sadly, “Always smiling. You were always smiling. Even in the face of death.”
Who did this?
“Son.”
Lyuben turned around to see his parents standing behind him. Their faces were emotionless. Lyuben saw a flash of silver disappear into his father’s robes: A dagger. Immediately, he knew what happened.
“You did this!?”
“We were trying to protect you…” his mom started.
“From what!?”
“He was not right for-”
“I already explained everything. I thought you understood.”
“We do,” they said. Lyuben could see his dad getting angry.
“And we know what’s right for you,” his mom added.
“You already know that people like you are hated here. It was quite kind for us to even keep you in this house!” Lyuben’s dad shouted, “When I found out who he was to you, I knew I had to end it.”
“Why?” Lyuben asked.
“Because I’ve always done what is right. We are the king and queen of this kingdom, and we must set an example for the people of this kingdom. We condemned your horrible behaviors and-”
“Killing him was setting the right example!?” Lyuben screamed to his father, “I loved him!”
“Killing him was our only choice,” the king responded bluntly.
“Now, come back to us. We can cure you…” The queen gestured for him to come closer. Lyuben backed away from his parents.
“I can’t.” Lyuben backed away from his parents. “You are not my parents. You’re monsters.”
“That leaves me no choice,” his father sighed.
The flames spread from the carpet to the castle walls. Lyuben stared coldly into his father’s eyes as his father came closer. “I trusted you....”
Lyuben knelt down and put his hand in his boy's.
“I’ll never forget you. I promise,” he whispered.
Lyuben took the rose from the dead boy’s hand. Then he looked up at his family one last time.
“Goodbye, father.”
Dark magic welled up in Lyuben’s hand. He held the rose close to his chest and closed his eyes.
“̷̮͝J̶͈̓u̶͕̕s̶̜̑t̵̞̀ ̵̯̾d̵̦̑o̶͇͝ ̷̭̂ỉ̵̩t̵̪̓.̵̻͋ ̵̡̌Ḷ̴̍e̵̞̒t̶͍̑ ̸̦̐i̸̠̽t̸̜̊ ̴̗̑a̶͙͆l̵̢͝l̴͉̃ ̶̡̈́g̷̫̉ỏ̸̖…̷̯̿ ̵̹̆ẗ̵̫ḣ̴̩e̵͖͝ý̵̠ ̸̣̀d̸͔̉o̶͎̚ń̶̩’̷̧̽t̴͔͊ ̴̘́c̴͇̚a̶̻̋r̵͖͝ẹ̵̀ ̵͕̃f̴̠̊ò̷̬ŗ̸̆ ̴̯́y̴̮͝õ̴̝u̶̙͐.̶̱͘.̶͕̌.̴̛̻t̴̝́h̵̹͗e̶̮̿y̴͐͜ ̶̠͛n̴̙̿e̴̤̔v̷̧̆e̶̦̊ř̸͖ ̶̤͝ḣ̶̘à̶̞v̴̞̅e̶̺͘…̶̳̌”̴͎͂
A large explosion tore through the majestic castle like thin sheets of paper. Lyuben ran, avoiding the rubble and endless flames, not looking back once.
---
Lyuben and his signature card (more will be explained about the signature in the coming stories):
Personality:
After being betrayed by his parents (and his friends - you'll see this in the next part), Lyuben is very apprehensive of a relationship of any type. He has felt immense pain seeing his boyfriend being killed by his own parents. He also feels insecure about who he truly is, especially because he isn't accepted by his family and friends. His boyfriend's rose reminds him of the pain he felt, and keeps him away from socializing with others. It will take a lot to gain Lyuben's trust and begin a friendship. What Lyuben doesn't know, is that avoiding these "dark places" for him causes the pain to build up inside him. Every rose has its thorns, but Lyuben is too scared of the thorns to feel the beauty of the rose.
Fighting Abilities:
Though young, Lyuben is a talented cleric. He can wield powerful dark magic, but he can't control it very well because he is rather untrained. As a child, he was taught to keep his abnormal powers secret due to his high status.Random Facts:
Age: 19
Gender: Male
Race: Human
Occupation: Prince of Malterra, a kingdom very far from the place where the Tournament of Champions is hosted.
Hair Color: Brown
Eye Color: Brown
Height: 5' 10''
Alignment: Neutral evil, though much closer to neutral than evil.
Least Favorite Drink: Rose Tea (since it reminds him of his dead boyfriend)
Favorite Food: Brownies (duh!)
Favorite Drink: Hot Chocolate (he likes anything chocolate)
Motive:
This will be revealed in the next story segment! I will update it here after posting!
@AboveAndAbout Zalgo is a special font that looks s̴̜͕̪̪̦͈̈́̐̍̊̅̈o̶͈͎̎̈́͛̃͂̄͘ḿ̶̨̛̮͕͈̞̭̰͎̹̌͑̒̆̒̈͑͛͜͝ͅē̷͇͙̭͇̦̦̰̙̦̯̬̯̩̆̏t̴͖̝͈̝͖̺͓͈̆̔͆h̶͈̤̝̥̰̳̪̯͕̹̏̄͋ͅi̷̻̺̖͍̻̦̠̍̑̅̑͗̇̃͝n̵͉̙͉̼̗̒̈́͂̎̓̇̓̃͑̒̉̅͝g̸̥̟̺̟̤̯̈́ ̶̣͉̱͍̦̓̓̓̓̎̾l̸̯̫̜̘̻̫̗͖̖͊i̴̞̠̖͓̮̤̒̉̏́̔̂̊̄͆́͒̔ḵ̸̪̜̠̠̯̘͉̏͒e̸̘̹̱̱̔̐̃̋͝͠ͅ ̵̨̧͈̜̦̳̟͎̪̼́̿́͒͌͋́͗̎́̇͂͘͜͝ț̴̺̠͈͊̔́̏͂͒̄̎̾̌͜ḥ̸̜̲̻̟̼̩͈̋͋͋̈̀̓̔ḯ̴̩̻̦̞̮̳͔̻͚̟̲̀̽̈́̓͐̈́̀̅̃̈̒̚͠s̶̜̭̉̌.
We can enter this world through several gates beyond sleep.
The moon ... look, we forgot about the moon. Take a deep breath. Everything in its time.
Gods. Of course they would go into that story. Who was the first to enter this dream world? When it comes to creationism everything is clouded by questions, questions to "write nice".
We are talking about the great nothing and unexplored universe, the god recognized as Greek Chaos, transmutation of the elements. His daughter Nix was responsible for the darkness of the night. Her husband, on the other hand, was Erebo, who was the darkness of the earth and the underworld. Wars and more wars ... we skipped that part considerably. Conclusion: Erebo imprisoned Nix within himself and destroyed the night. So would it be daytime at all times? No. Nix was a mantle, which when destroyed the primordial god Chaos appeared with his thousands of stars.
Another leap in time ... When he realized the admiration of men for the stars that on the nights destroyed by Erebo, Chaos granted a young and beautiful daughter, Nova-Nix, goddess of the starry nights.
However, the stars were not enough for the admiration of men, the inspiration to move on. With great effort and help from other gods, the imposing moon in its most attractive form, the Full Moon, appeared.
Since then the moon has been part of our dreams. Its light expanded imagination, creativity, willpower and many other feelings during our visits to the parallel world of dreams.
Our Solitary friend, on the other hand, is neither a god or a mirage (until proven otherwise), but a simple man with his spear and wearing a black overcoat, always complemented by brightly colored shirts and a cynical smile. Calm temperament, always lying, cold, sometimes gentle or aggressive. Everything arrogant he has, but he never let these defects harm anyone.
It is not known for sure what he is, but in the world of dreams he can be seen wandering around the crescent moon and the magnificent full moon. On the new moon he descends from the moon in this fantasy world and interacted with the dreamers and their dreams. The certainty that one has about him are his senseless phrases is that they always end up freeing the dreamers who heard them, making those few minutes in this world decisive and unique to explore in a healthy way everything around him. A unique power.
His admiration for the moon has always been because of the strength she carries, the grandeur that great inspirations bring.
The moon in the dream world is positioned at the center of all creation, which is infinite in nature, on top of a large and infinite black precipice, a large black hole. The Loner wanders and moves on the moon as if there was an invisible asphalt to guide him. Today, there is no knowledge of what happens to those who fall into the abyss of dreams, but what many infer that is the end of sanity.
After many drawn dreams and great confrontations, he finally managed to move between the real world outside of dreams, bringing with him all the power of the majestic moon. His goal is still a mystery, but the will to do right and bring freedom is still at its heart.
Arha turned another page of her book. It was a good way to pass the time while she was on the ship, and she enjoyed reading regardless. She barely looked up from it when someone knocked quietly on her door.
"Ms. de Mira?" a sailor said from the other side of the door. "The ship's coming into port."
Arha looked up then. "Thank you," she called. She got up and closed her book, putting it into her suitcase. She gathered her things and added them to the suitcase. Before putting her sword into the suitcase, she checked to make sure it wouldn't accidentally slip out of its scabbard. After she had, she pulled on a flat cap and made her way up to the deck.
As she stepped off the ship, Arha took a deep breath of air before letting it out. She always liked seeing new places, even if she was here on other business. It was part of why she had become a knight and a diplomat.
Walking along the dock, Arha briefly went over what she was going to do. Join the Tournament, test her own skill and that of others, see if she could find new allies... A simple plan, all around. The only problem was figuring out where she needed to go. Noticing several other people disembarking who looked like they were looking for the Tournament, Arha decided to follow them. She might as well try and get a read on them before the Tournament began.
Arha de Mira is an emissary for her homeland, the elven kingdom of Qan Maris. While she often acts as a diplomat, she is also confident in her abilities as a mage-knight and acts as such, both in combat and in casual conversation.
Personality
As a diplomat and knight, Arha usually presents a calm, polite face to everyone she meets, even people that she's fighting against. It takes a great deal to anger her, and even then she never completely loses the calm politeness. She believes in testing potential allies' strength, both physical and mental, to make sure that they meet her standards.
Fighting Abilities
Arha is a confident fighter, fearlessly facing her foes. Along with her martial skill as a knight, she also uses basilisk and strength magic to help herself and her allies, as well as to see if her opponents are worth making allies. However, most of what she is capable of is short-ranged, and the only real defense against long-range opponents is toughing out their attack and bringing the fight to them
General Stats
Home: Qan Maris, Avelaide
Age: 137
Species: Elf
Gender: Female
Occupation: Diplomat, knight
Alignment: Lawful Neutral
Motive: Testing her abilities and those of her fellow champions and finding new allies
The annual Merchant's League Ball, 6 months before the tournament.
"Ladies and gentleman, may I present the honorable Merson Reveeri, and his daughter, Conscience Reveeri!" An announcer, standing at two great doors, which looked over a grand ballroom. Chatter stopped abruptly, as everyone turned to look at the opening doors. A middle aged man, clad in the finest clothes that could be found in this part of the world, walked through, followed by a teenage girl. This girl was clad the same, in a dress, a necklace of pearls adorning her neck. Cheers followed their descent down the stairs, and both waved greetings in the general direction of friends. At the bottom of the staircase, both were greeted with friendly shouts, questions about business, and champagne glasses offered by servants. Immediately hitting his glass with a small fork, which seemingly appeared out of nowhere, the masses quieted, allowing him to speak.
"Everyone! I come to this," He looked down his nose at everyone around them, "great ball, to share most extraordinary news! My daughter, Conscience, will be entering the Tournament of Champions, in 6 months!" Looking around, he met nothing but silence. Then...
"Her?" A skeptical voice called out.
Three months later
Stepping off the boat, Conscience gazed upon the city that would be her home for the next few months. It wasn't that bad, but it didn't compare to anything back home. Sighing, she stepped off the plank, heading into the city.
(cards link to mtgcs versions)
Personality
Conscience is a confident young woman, and treats everyone like she knows she is better than them. She is always calm, and appears like a genteel merchant's daughter. She is angered easily, and expresses it calmly, with a quiet fury. She takes revenge on those who wrong her swiftly, and takes revenge to extremes. She has no moral compass, and does whatever suites her best.
Skills
Conscience was brought up as a merchant's daughter, so she has the skillset of a merchant. She is intelligent and charismatic, and also maintains an athletic lifestyle, and knows multiple forms of martial arts. She prefers to use weapons in combat, mainly daggers, however, on the outside, it seems like she is simply a helpless merchant's daughter.
Magic
Conscience commands an impressive array of magic: soul magic and debt magic. She uses her debt magic against magic users, giving them some magic, then taxing it away, then using her increased amount of magic to kill the opponent using soul magic.
Random Things
Age: 18
Gender: Female
Race: Human
Height: 5'5.75
Weight: 105 lbs
Favorite things to do: Shop, read, practice magic
Motives for coming to Tournament of Champions: Exposure, fame, fighting good peopleTr
Trolley Dilemma: Would offer both parties a choice of death or paying her, the party who pays the least/chooses death she kills.
Alignment: Neutral Evil
Random Assorted Facts:
- Extremely competitive
- Enjoys gambling, but not losing
- Dislikes others who cheat, but likes to cheat
- Doesn't trust easily
- Likes having friends, but finds it hard to keep a friend for long due to her opinions
(This is inspired by Gorl from the first Deltora Quest book)
The moon was shining bright over the city streets. A pack of street dogs have come out of hiding to drink from the red stream that is crawling down the street between the pavement stones. "Gaahh! Haaaa!" a man shouted from the alley further up. The dogs ran away as the sound of metal hitting the stone pavement echoed between the building.
An ax lied in a pool of dark blood and pieces of flesh. Above the pool lied a corpse of a man who's head had been cracked open with bits of his brain and skull shattered around the pavement. Further away lied a severed head inside an iron helmet. A man fell to the ground, exhausted and furious. Two other men stood further away, one of them, a younger man, held his hands over a bleeding wound in his abdomen. He stared with shock in his eyes on the blood beneath his feet. His voice was shaking, and his eyes were filled with tears. The exhausted man looked before him at the severed head and the body that it had just belonged to, the body of a knight. He turned his eyes and looked at two other corpses further down and then at the woman.
"What? Too afraid to run? Go on, run... RUN YOU FORKING BIOTCH!" The man yelled at the woman. The woman, Iseabel, did not run. Instead she began moving towards the man.
"What? Did you like what I said earlier. So you are a good little whore after all." "I think I'm going to die, Jorald." The wounded man cried. "Don't interrupt me!" Jorald yelled. Iseabel stopped just before the decapitated head of her knight, of Steaphan. She leaned down and took it up in her arms. Then she walked towards the body. "What? You care for that numb tin can? He did his job did he not? Run away or I will do to you what he did to Robb, and then drop your corpse in the fucking sea!" Jorald looked at the man with the crushed skull.
"I'm dying, Jorald." The young man cried. "Ughh, Velrin, make your little brother shut the fuck up" Jorald yelled. Velrin, the man holding the young man in his arms, looked up with empty eyes. A cold feeling ran through Jorald's spine. He looked back as Iseabel who held Steaphan's head towards his neck. His skin around the wound was growing wet and the flesh began to vibrate slightly. After a short time, Iseabel leaned her mouth towards Steaphan. "Rise, brother, rise again. Your duty is not over, and neither is mine. Rise so that we may pursue it together." Black smoke escaped the wound on his neck as the flesh pulled itself together, sealing the wound.
Jorald's eyes widened as he watched the dead knight turn his head. He moved his hands, his arms, his feet, his legs. He rose up and grabbed his sword. Then he approached the two men still alive. "Necromancy... She is a necromancer! She is..."
Jorald's scream as interrupted to the sound of his skull being crushed against the wall behind him. Velrin remained silent.
-------------------------------------
Sometime later
Iseabel and Steaphan stood at the docks of the city with the sun burning above. She looked at another figure in the distance. "Death is playing chess again and that one there is one of the pieces. One of sixteen pawns." Iseabel felt someone approaching them. She barely got time to turn around before the person welcomed them.
Hero: Iseabel Rathais
Cursed by both the demonic and the divine.
A necromancer from young age. Fooled by a demon into a path she should never have have set foot on.
Hated by her mother and sisters, threatened with death by her father, outcast by her village and friends. Only Steaphan cared for her when her secret was revealed.
Neither good nor evil, she does not care for the lives or fates of others, but is capable of committing acts of both good and evil, though not very common.
She has an burning hate for both angels and demons alike.
Her hate is also a cover for the fears she has of the might of angels, and the deception of demons. A fear she would never reveal.
Otherwise she fears nothing as she believes that Steaphan can deal with anything - with her help. He shall rise over and over, time and time again. Only by her death will he receive an end.
She has great skills with necromancy but she rarely raises anyone or anything else but her brother. She do however occasionally raise smaller creatures as rats and bats to do her biding as they are easier to control and are less likely to reveal her powers.
Home: Unknown
Age: 28
Alignment: Neutral
Motive: Retrieve her brother's soul.
Powers: Necromancy. Without contact she can bring Steaphan back to unlife, with contact she can mend his body back together. She is capable of some direct spells for defense that can turn her enemies weak and fragile, while killing lesser things as cats and dogs.
Personality: Cold and hateful, rarely talks to anyone but her brother. She does not trust anyone except her brother. She tries not to draw unwanted attention to herself or her brother, unless neccesary for her goal of retrieving her brother's soul.
She is haunted by old traumatic memories and suffers from PTSD. She is able to resist the impact of her memories but sometimes she get relapses where the memories breaks her down.
Companion: Steaphan Rathais
Caught in the middle, killed by those he served.
Once he was a knight serving the greater good. Now he is dead and not even his sister is sure if his soul is still inside his body, or if he has truly become nothing but an empty husk.
Home: Unknown
Age: Dead (Killed 7 years ago at 24 years age)
Alignment: None
Motive: None
Powers: The strength and skill of a well trained knight but undead. His strength and regenerative abilities can be enhanced by Iseabel's magic.
Personality: None
heres some info about aetherborn on the wiki: https://mtg.fandom.com/wiki/Aetherborn
Name: Dr. Cypherous
Homeplane: Kaladesh
Birthplace: Kaladesh
Home: Somewhere in Ghirapur
Race: Aetherborn
Age: 6 years (aetherborn have a lifespan of 4 years, but Cypherous has elongated his lifespan through magical means.)
Gender: Aetherborn are genderless, but Cypherous identifies as male
Occupation(s): Mage, inventor/engineer
Hobbies: Conducting magical experiments, making things explode, developing/selling magical technology
Alignment: Chaotic Neutral
Alliances: The Renegades, formerly (the people who were fighting against the Consulate on Kaladesh)
Goals: Furthering his knowledge and/or power, magically elongating his short lifespan
Magical Abilities: lightning-related abilities (shooting lightning bolts, stuff like that.)
Fighting Abilites: l i g h t n i n g, magic aether stuff
Personality Traits: easily bored/short attention span, impulsive in many situations, doesn't show/express a lot of emotion most of the time, knows a lot about magic and magical items, usually creative in terms of plans and stuff
Favorite Food: Aetherborn don't really... eat or drink... at all
Favorite Drink: See Favorite Food
I present the prologue....
Sher coughed. He now understood what the traveller had meant. He stood, facing the lich that had haunted him for millenia, Orhaud.Then, refusing to be scared any longer, he stood up, and looked at the crumbling mountain, finding a way to get out. Then a sinister voice came out of the ashes.
"Now what did I tell you?" The traveller stood on a stone near Sher, laughing devilishly.
"This realm is dangerous. Filled with unknown entities only the strongest can defeat. Unfortunately, when you left your father you had not trained to that level, not at all. You may be po-"
But Sher cut him off.
"How do you know about my life story?"
"I have been....Observing. I know the envy, passion and hate that burns inside of you. You came here to heal that, and you know you can't. Your honour is shattered, your logic marred by anger."
Sher was shocked. "W-wh-what do you me-mean?"
"Your honour is lost. You are lost. The blind eternities are unforgiving, as you have damaged them. There is nowhere....."
Then he thought.
He thought for a while.
Finally, he said, "There is one place you may go. In an ancient realm....."
"The Tournament of Champions. That is where you may go. To retain your honour, and recover your dignity."
"That sounds great," Sher said. "Let's go."
And they did.
***********************
Signature & Hero card.....
Sher of the Blind Eternities Unsubtle Demolition| Sher is a very rare being: |This one needs much less |
| he can travel through the | of an explanation, as it's |
| Blind Eternities even | a simple thing to explain.|
| though he isn't a | This signature card is |
| planeswalker. His | based on what happens |
| personality is arrogant, | when Sher travels |
| headstrong, attention- | planes, he uses so much |
| seeking, impulsive and | energy that everything |
| somewhat heroic. | weak round him sort of |
| Undoubtedly his antics |dissolves, or shatters. For |
| have got him into trouble, | now, this'll do as my |
| but sometimes they lead to | signature card, but I'm |
| great discoveries. In one | looking forward to |
| catch-up, he was saving a | editing it.
| small camp from liches. | ----------------------------------
| He met Orhaud, a lich |
| warlord, who instantly |
| took a disliking for Sher. |
| Now they were sworn |
| enemies, and constantly |
| battling. |
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Magic skills......
Sher is very powerful, with powers ranging from time-travelling to animation of paintings and drawings. But most notably, to bring alive banished/dead/exiled things. Creating something out of a mere shadow.Bio....
Age: 278, genetically 16, but alive for 278 years. Very confusing, but it's true. How that happened is a long story.
Home plane/region: Alara, in the shard of Esper.
Gender: Male.
Race: Human. In an alternate dimension, he was a vampire, but this dimension is not alternate.
Height: 5'3"
Weight: 95 lbs
Favourite things to do: Smile, Laugh, Joke, Explore and have Intellectual talks with Zombies.
Motive: Revenge
Eye colour: Green
Hair colour: Brown
Allignment: Evil, sorta, but also very kind and caring. Very mixed up character.
Favourite food: Roast dragon
Favourite drink: Dustwillow tea (Y'know Davriel's favourite thing in the multiverse?)
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So that's it. Pretty long to write and I have about a 30% chance of qualifying, but it was still fun. Have a few notes for you lot as well.
@SpellPiper2213 How do you do zalgo text?
@shadow123 You say you're very busy and can't commit to things, but you have time for something like ToC4? I'm not sayin' I don't want you to participate, just you say you're busy?
My favourite so far is definitely @CassZero's. Unique combination of shady backgrounds and awesome card designs!