Kodenko, a plane deeply settled in ancient tradition. For decades, the continents had been at war. Generations picked up the swords of their mothers and fathers, passing on bloodline grudges, deep seeded hatred, and undue prejudice down to their next of kin. Peace was largely unheard of, not in the valleys or the meadows. No spire nor mire, no speck of land across the plane, knew peace. It was a sentiment naught strove for. Peace was fragile and ending. The wrongs of enemies were eternal wounds forever bleeding.
In the village of Kadiak, the townsfolk were no stranger to battle. Their finest led the first charges of the Mesa-Hondo war, which ravaged on to that very day. However, there were outcasts among them, The Okubyōmono, who were exiled and near constantly harassed for their outlandish beliefs; the thought that some day, the fighting could end and they could live in peace. The thoughts that maybe, their enemies weren't worth the bloodshed. The thoughts that maybe, they could settle their differences. Michio Akisaki was one of those people, and his bloodline had received extreme spite for it, to the point where he was practically a criminal.
Living just outside the village to at least lessen the harassment, the Akisaki family was a simple one. Coming from three generations of bushi before him, the father of the house Michio was born into war. However, when his mother was mistakenly killed by guards when he was just 5, it scarred him for life. He was forced to train in bushido and go to battle, but he loathed his duty.
Despite being an exile from his village, Michio was able to make somewhat of a living for himself. He was a skilled combatant, but also a talented craftsman. He was also able to find someone who understood him in his wife Haru, and eventually had a daughter named Mia. He avoided battle when possible in favor of selling origami and paper mache, but he couldn't escape the call to duty forever. When his daughter was finally able to start working with Michio on paper craft, he was drafted into the army to engage in a preemptive strike against the neighboring colony of Egress. He questioned his orders, since the colonies had no known hostilities, but it was not use. The life he managed to build for himself was distant as he found himself holding a sword and standing over Egress.
The attack on Egress proved disastrous to Michio. It went against bushido code, the one thing he honored about his training. When he refused to join in on the night raid on the town of Hazlo, he was given a choice; fight, or die. According to the captain his honor meant nothing; as an exile he had none, which was the reason he particularly was chosen for the attack. Outraged, he chose the third option and challenged the commander leading the attack to combat. The battle ended in the death of the captain; now an exile proper for killing a Hondan military official, Michio returned home to relocate his family.
When Michio arrive home, he was unfortunately late. Egressian military officials had gotten word of the attack and sent a counteroffensive into his village. Buildings burned, screams could be heard in the streets, and the thought tore his mind; what if his family was amongst them? He rushed home to the outskirts of the village, where he opened the door. His wife Haru was missing, but that meant she could still be alive. However, he was concerned when he saw his daughter's favorite mask on the floor, a fox mask the two had made together for her to wear. Knowing something was amiss, he investigated, only for his suspicions to be confirmed in the worst way possible; lying on the floor of her room with a bloody blade in her hand was Mia, curled up with a bloody, tightly packed cloth against her abdomen.
"Mia!" Michio called out as he ran to her, panicking. "Father..." Mia coughed out. "They came for you. I tried to hold them off..." "What were you thinking, Mia? You should have left! You aren't trained to fight!" "I would of, but they were going to kill mother... I couldn't let them." "...so Haru escaped?" "Yes. Now please... go, before anyone else comes." "I'm going to get you help, Mia-" "Please... it's not worth the risk. I did everything I could to save mother. I don't want you to die because of it." "A-oh..." Michio was tearing up at this point. "I... understand." "You two can start over. Now go!"
With tears in his eyes, Michio left the village against his will. He had lost his will to fight, and he had to ensure that Haru had made it out alive...
(This segment is a continuation of my previous segment. Some story elements may be lost on you if you haven't read it.)
A year had passed since the attack on Kadiak, the beginning of the Hondo-Egress war, and the death of Mia. Forced to take into hiding, Michio had gotten by on the kindness of strangers, a bit of luck, and a disguise when it was called for. Michio had learned to hone his skills in crafts for more practical uses, such as to cause misdirection with masks that looked like the faces of others. He unfortunately had to abandon his code, but he did it for his still missing Haru, which he still hoped to find. His travels and questions led across continents, and he'd learned to fit in with crowds to make his way from colony to colony.
While he did not find what he had been looking for, fortune eventually shone upon Michio. During his travels, he finally managed to find a place to rest; he came across a monastery, and hoped that those within would welcome him. His thinking was wishful, but he was a stranger with formidable skills; they welcomed him into their fold. What he didn't realize, however, was that to stay there, he had to learn their way. This was the way of ninjutsu, and he was going to prove himself or be banished.
While Michio was initially loathe to start training there, it was worth the time well spent. He was taught several valuable techniques over four years, but little did he know that the greatest thing that would come from his time there wouldn't be there at all. One of the core ideals he was taught there was that, "in order to embrace the future, you must come to terms with your past". One of the tasks he was given to come to terms was to go to his daughter's resting place... to return to Kadiak and perform the proper rites to send her soul into the afterlife.
The voyage back to his real home was long and perilous, taking the course of three months to get there safely. When he arrived, however, he was shocked to find it laid in ruin. No guards blocked his entry. No citizens roamed the streets. The only moving things were smoke and ash in the wind. Some embers still bore heat to this very day, and the only people inhabiting the town were fellow exiles begging for food and water. He began by making his way to his home, which still stood. As he entered, he smelt decay and rot, and knew exactly what waited for him behind the door to his daughter's room. Her rotted corpse laid there, everything untouched... including her paper fox mask. Thinking of it just as something to remember her by, he picked it up, only for a familiar to graze his ears. It was changed, but it was still Mia's...
"Do you see what these wars have caused, father?" She spoke to him. "Yes... yes I do." He spoke, not even realizing her spirit stood right behind him. "This is exactly what you said you would happen." "Yes it is. What... do you suggest we do? Your mother is still missing, after all." "I love her, but it's one life against thousands. I just want the war to end; we need to take matters into our own hands." "How will we do that? We're two people against several armies."
Michio felt a tap on his shoulder, and turned to see that Mia held a jar filled with tiny little origami cranes. Hundreds of them, folded meticulously.
"I've always imagined a peaceful world," Mia began "a peaceful world of color, where the wonder of creation could empower the masses and anyone can be whatever they want to be. I want you to wear my mask and see through my eyes; to bring my vision to life."
Without question, Michio donned the fox mask, and suddenly, her spirit rushed in. The jar of cranes sprung open, and the cranes flew into the sky around the village. A spiral of color soon followed them, and slowly, the village bloomed. Plants came back to life, the sky cleared, and the fires extinguished. Eventually, all the damage had been undone, and the cranes took the form of people, walking through the street.
"Wha..." Michio was at a loss for words; Mia had just performed a miracle. He took the mask off to make sure he was seeing correctly, and the cranes formed into an embodiment of Mia. It wasn't translucent; it was real, tangible, her. "What is this?" "This?" Mia said, chuckling. "This is the power of art. Together, we can bring our vision of a peaceful world to life. We can turn art into the real thing through magic."
Gender: Male Age: 38 Height: 5' 7" Blood Type: AB Hair Color: Black Eye Color: Red Place of Origin: Kadiak, Hondo, Kodenko Race: Human Occupation: Artist Alignment: Lawful Good Favorite Food: Pork Gyoza Favorite Drink: Matcha Tea
~ Abilities and Combat ~
On his own, Michio focuses on illusions and misdirection in combat to throw his opponents off his trail, then strike with his blade. On his journey, he has learned the ways of bushido and ninjutsu, as well as mild magic. The types of spells he can cast alone are limited, but they include simple illusions, basic mind tricks, magic to amplify his stealth, and mild "imagination" magic that stems from his bond from Mia. This primarily focuses on making objects function like others. For example, a curled piece of paper could block a blow like a shield, or he could use a bow and arrow without a string.
Companion: Mia Akisaki
Gender: Female Age: Deceased Height: 5' 4" Blood Type: B Relation to Main Combatant: Daughter Place of Origin: Kadiak, Hondo, Kodenko Race: Spirit Occupation: Artist Alignment: True Good Favorite Food: Miso Soup Favorite Drink: Yogurt
~ Abilities and Combat ~
Mia bears powerful "imagination" magic, primarily focused around a flock of paper cranes that follow her wherever she goes. She can use them to create objects such as barriers and weapons, and can even attack with them by forming them into attacks or effects (such as tendrils or explosions). She requires her father's assistance to use more complex techniques, but she can hold her own.
Michio Akisaki is a bushi turned ninja from the land of Hondo, on the plane of Kodenko. In a realm of war, he aspired for peace, and while his plane could not be saved, he has received a higher calling; the Tournament of Champions offers him a way to secure the peace he and his daughter Mia always wished for.
Michio and Mia are bound by Mia's fox mask, which is usually worn by the former in combat. Mia's spirit is destroyed if the mask is shattered, so Michio is currently looking for a way to transfer her essence to something that is far more resilient. Mia can only come out of the mask for brief moments, but is fully autonomous outside it; otherwise, she generally is contained within, sharing her magic with her father.
As long as the mask is on Michio's person, he can combine his powers with Mia's to perform incredible feats. Mia's flock increases dramatically in effectiveness when the two work together, and this can turn Mia into a force of nature and Michio into an untraceable target. They can create powerful illusions and distractions, or even turn the flock into sentient creatures to fight alongside them or solid, impervious structures.
The two can also create magical effects without the flock to aid them. This includes greater imaginative feats; two pieces of paper could be a set of wings, Michio could walk up a curved wall and stand on it, and a bow string could snap while the user is aiming.
Lastly, the two can create magical wonders together; these masterpieces are art given souls. The Fox Mask and Mia's flock is the first two examples, but they are more than able to create more when given time...
"Are you really sure you want to do this, Reddy?" Jesper quickened his pace, Nyrine might be a foot shorter than him, but she was still managing to leave him behind in the crowd. Jasper insisted "It's not the first time you've been wrong in one of your predictions, right?
"But come on, it can't be that terrible!...Not enough to join the tournament!" He made a gesture with his hand showing the large number of participants who wanted to participate in the event this year, many of which doubled them in size and more. "It's the only way!" She yelled trying to be heard among the growing noise. "It's the only way to get close to Friyena!"
The fortune teller kept moving forward while the remnants of the vision were still bubbling in his mind... So much death... so much pain... could all this really happen? She took a step to the side just to avoid a couple of vagabonds girls who were running past pursued by a small group of armed men. Her gift had worked for her again, warning her of danger before it happened. She only hoped that her ability to see the future would help her get to the end, Because if she couldn't get close to Friyena... If his prophecy came true... "Miss... MISS!... There are people waiting" a high-pitched, hurried voice yelled at her, snapping her out of her daydreams. The man looked her up and down.
"Good afternoon..." She said "I came to register for the tournament."
Jesper managed to finally reach Nyrine. He didn't have to ask, the girl's blue eyes were wet with angry tears and she was pacing back and forth like a caged lioness. As soon as he saw him, she ran towards him and began to hit him in the chest to express —even more— her frustration. "That pig laughed! He laughed at me! He said if he let me sign up he'd be charged with accessory to murder! That vile, lousy pig!" "...You're really going to do this, right?" They looked into each other's eyes. For a second Jesper felt the people disappear around him and the world stop spinning, Nyrine affirmed. "I have to". The world kept turning again. Jasper managed a smile that was trying to look cheeky. "How lucky then that your best friend is the best thief in the whole world" he said taking out a document with the royal seal and a quill from a fold of his boot "I got one that still has a space...Sign here and you're in" "BUT LIKE YOU?!" Nyrine said in amazement, it wasn't the first time she had seen Jesper's abilities, but the place was full of people and guards!!
"The real trick, Reddy," he said, proud "is that when they realize the bug bit them, they can't even find the welt."
"You are the best friend a girl can have, Jes." Nyrine signed the document and Jesper managed to return it to its official place. It was done. He only had to take care of keeping Nyrine alive until the end... At any cost. _____________________ So, that's the introduction of my team. I leave their cards below and a brief description of the characters.
Nyrine is a fortune teller blessed with the ability to see sporadic glimpses of a possible future. This has allowed her to gain a polarized reputation among her fellow citizens. While some thank her for helping them avoid a possible disastrous future, many others accuse her of scamming them when her predictions don't come true. Nyrine may not be the strongest but she wields some basic holy magic and relies on her gift to guide her to victory.
Support character:
https://mtgcardsmith.com/view/jesper-sing-surprising-thief?list=user Jesper is a playful, playful and skilled thief. He specializes in sleight of hand and diversions and being absolutely, unrelentingly loyal to Nyrine. He will do whatever it takes to make her succeed, even if that includes fighting behind the scenes or sabotaging his competitors to gain an advantage for her.
His heart beats like the frenzied beat of war drums and his pulse pumps ferociously in his ears, eclipsing all other sounds. He draws deep, ragged breaths as is adrenaline fueled senses frantically probe his surroundings. A cavernous snarl echoes through the trees and a slow dripping of fluids onto the undergrowth makes its way to his ears. It is near.
His vision begins to darken at the edges as blood hemorrhages from the gash across his side. His hand shakes, swiveling the crossbow around to face the shadows, as the other reaches slowly for the blade at his side.
A sudden snapping of branches. A bolt is fired, another loaded and a sword drawn. Otherworldly eyes glow with malice, jagged teeth bare through a wet, distended maw. A long, skinless arm lunges forward as spines bristle and tentacles whip hungrily. In a flash, he is pinned to the ground, the creature snarling atop him. Knifelike teeth pierce his chest and tendrils grasp his limbs as thick, viscous saliva dribbles from the beast's jaws. His armor is slick with blood. His head pounds painfully, his senses already dulling to a panicked haze. He cries out, slashing wildly with his free arm and firing blindly into the monster's broad, deformed chest.
Ergun bolted upright from his bed, sheets soaked in sweat, clutching frantically at the scars on his chest. After a moment, his breathing calmed and his heartrate slowed to a steady rhythm. The dreams were getting worse. Swinging his legs off the side of the bed, Ergun lifted his hand from his chest to examine the marks on it. Two long, curved rows of jagged tooth marks scrawled from his side, up across his chest, over his right shoulder blade and down to his ribs once more. He could still faintly feel the sharp crunch of the beast's jaws buried in his flesh, rending muscle and splitting bone. More so, he could feel the intoxicating burn of the toxin within the creature's blood and saliva.
His body shuddered as he rose, the scars throbbing an angry purple. With an immense hunger burning his core, he stumbled over to an oaken table laden with alchemical equipment - a small burner, pots of powders and pastes, a mortar, pestle, and several bottles - and quickly snatched a small vial of black fluid, popping off its cork and downing its contents in one swift motion. The shakes and hunger immediately ceased, replaced with a fleeting sense of dizziness and satisfaction. That was close.
Strapping a bandolier of elixirs and medical supplies over his armor and cloak, Ergun stepped out into the sun. He took a breath, swiveled his head around to survey his immediate surroundings, checked the sword at his side and crossbow collapsed in its quiver once more, and set off. As he strode down the broad marble steps of his manor, he muttered under his breath to seemingly nobody, "For both our sakes, this better work."
"Oh god..." He grumbled quietly as he passed through an alley. The sun was setting, sending long shadows sprawling across the city landscape and cloaking the alleys, tunnels and bridges in darkness. And in the darkness, the lowlifes of the town thrived.
Hurried footsteps on flagstones and the faint flash of steel in torchlight alerted his senses to their presence. Ergun stopped dead in the alleyway, gently setting down his bag and resting his arms at his side. "You can come out now," he growled. In the periphery of his vision, two silent figures crouched. His reptilian tongue flicked out for an instant, sampling the air. They were nervous, probably unaccustomed to such boldness. Good. "I don't have anything you want. Walk away."
One of the thieves stepped out of the shadows, a long knife in his hand. Damn it, though Ergun. Old leather armor, tattered clothes, cheap knife. They're just kids. "Last warning," He said, a little louder. "Just go home."
"Screw that!" The one with the knife shouted. "Gimme the bag."
"Yeah." The other, larger thief walked up to Ergun's other flank, a large club with nails driven through it clutched in both hands.
"It's just my... medicine." Ergun sighed. Seeing the two weren't budging, he sighed once more and cracked his neck. "Fine." He took a step forward.
"Hey!" The large goon put a meaty hand on Ergun's shoulder. Within the deepest recesses of his being, a primal hunger stirred. Ergun shrugged. "Go for it."
Ergun stepped out of the alley, covered in blood and miscellaneous bits of viscera from head to toe. "That better tie you over until we get there, because I don't plan on having a bounty on my head," he said to himself.
In the alleyway, in a pool of blood, the two thieves lay with glossy eyes forever open, deep bitemarks across their torn and broken bodies.
Race: Dragonborn Gender: Male Age: 34 Height: 6'4" Weight: 212 lbs Occupation: Former soldier, now monster hunter for hire Hobbies: Hunting, reading, calligraphy Fighting proficiencies: Thoroughly trained in swordplay and archer with both crossbow and longbow for 17 years in military academy. When the curse takes over, he goes into a bloodthirsty frenzy, shrugging off injuries without regard for personal safety or accuracy, destroying anything moving until it is fed and satiated.
Nimbu was born from a family of nobility. The family, unable to take care of the child, gave Nimbu away to a temple, where she was raised as a priestess her whole life. She studied the arts of her patron and learned to perform various wards as well as heal others. For most of her life she grew up learning the dogma and devoting herself to the ways of the goddess of light Narish.
Upon turning the age of 16, she began doubting the ways of her patron, as she saw countless lives lost on both sides during the war between the forces of dark and light. She suggested that delving in the forbidden knowledge would help them better understand it to her teacher, but she was shutdown. One night, she snuck through the temple, after obtaining wards to the forbidden chambers of the temple and discovered the multiple tomes of necromancy that had been sealed away due to being evil. She delved into their arts and studied them feverently combining them with the knowledge of her patron until she was caught and banished.
Using her new found abilities, for years she was able to place wards on the the various undead that roamed her surroundings eventually assembling an army of purified zombies that were completely under her control. Never being forsaken by her patron, she was able to channel her patrons power into them and use them for good. After a while though, she began being hunted by the church for her "her use of evil magic' and she once again was looked upon by Narish, as a blinding light enveloped her and took her to a mysterious land.
While she no longer felt a connection with her patron in this land, she felt like she had gained a part of Narish within her. She could use her clerical powers now as freely as she could use her necromantic ones. She vowed to protect good, even if she had to use dark magic in tandem with light's in order to do so. She spent the next few months, slaying undead, curing the ill, and resurrecting those who died before their time using her new art of cleromancy, and eventually she assembled an army of zombies that had given their bodies to her purpose upon death as thanks for her services. She soon heard of a tournament offering a great reward, and while she knew not what it was. She could only hope it was the power to do more good, regardless of where that power lied in the compass.
Name: Nimbu Al'kalesh Gender: Female Race: Human Age: 35 Height: 5'7" Weight: 135 lbs Occupation: Exiled priestess, necromancer, cleric Hobbies: Studding necromancy as well as cleric scrolls, volunteer healing, hunting undead and demons. Alignment: chaotic good
Abilities - Cleriomancy, Strategist.
She uses her hybrid version of magic, cleriomancy which is both divine and infernal making it hard to counter by either of its composers. She focuses on summoning warded zombies which have their souls and bodies warded with symbols, preventing other necromancers from seizing control over them and preventing clerics from destroying them with divine magic. She commonly commands a trope of six zombies and uses five to engage while using their eyes to gather info, and uses one to guard her at all times. She can use her magic to repair, or shield the zombies, creating a sort of "sword and shield" combo with her being the shield. She avoids directly putting herself in combat, using her defending zombie to attack while supporting it with buffs. She isn't the most capable combatant on her own, but she is very durable due to her array of both healing and necromantic spells. She is also a cunning strategist and she hides while deploying her zombies to fight as a pose to engaging directly.
Roshk crouched behind the sandstone rock, his dark blue scales blending into the night. In front of him were three red tents around a small campfire. Standing in front of the campfire was a guard holding a spear. Roshk crept across the sand, taking a wide berth around the guard and ending up on the other side of the camp. He raced across the ground, drawing his scimitar, and slicing the guard across the neck just as he began to turn his head. As the man's body hit the ground, Roshk heard footsteps in the sand behind him. He turned around and saw, standing there, a burly man with a scar across his face. This was his target, Grutok. Apparently the man lead a particularly violent bandit gang, and owed quite a few large debts. But none of that mattered to Roshk. All that mattered was the bounty on Grutok's head. Roshk turned towards his target and spread his arms. "It's dead or alive, mate. Doesn't make a difference to me. We can do this the easy way-" Grutok drew a sword from his belt. "or the hard way..." Roshk drew his scimitar and sprinted towards Grutok, slashing the blade across the side of his chest and running right past him. Grutok turned around and lunged towards Roshk with his sword, but he dogded aside. Roshk leaped back and drew two throwing knives, flinging them at each of Grutok's legs. The blades hit, and Grutok's knees buckled. His face hit the sand. Roshk walked over to the man's body and thrust his scimitar right into Grutok's back.
some time later...
Roshk walked through the sandy streets of the town of Aurix, a duffel bag in his left hand. Laid out all around him were sandstone buildings of various sizes, and people of all shapes and sizes walked through the streets. Roshk took a right down an alleyway and stopped at one of the buildings. He rapped his knuckles on the side of the sandstone wall and waited a few seconds. A section of the wall slid open, revealing stone stairs leading downward. Roshk walked down the stairs and came to a small stone room. In front of him was a wooden desk, and sitting behind the desk was a man in a black hooded cloak. Roshk dropped the duffel bag on the table. "I've done it, Zaren. I found Grutok and... dealt with him." "Well done." Zaren responded. "I have the payment, but I also have... something else. It's an... interesting opportunity, for somebody with your talents." Zaren handed to Roshk a small bag filled with coins and what looked like a paper flyer of sorts.
Ladies and gentlemen! Warriors and wizards! Beasts and summoners! Angels and demons!
I welcome you to the Tournament of Champions 18!!!!!
Choose your heroes that will enter the tournament where he, she, it, or they shall fight to eliminate the chosen of others until only one is left standing, as the true champion. The heroes of the tournament will fight in stages and for each stage won, the victorious shall continue to the next stage stronger than before. Those that lose shall leave the tournament, willingly or forced.
"I'll think about it." Roshk said. And besides, he thought, what do I have to lose?
Name: Roshk Kepeshkamolik (viashino don't have surnames, Kepeshkamolik is his tribe name) Gender: Male Race: Viashino Occupation: Formerly a tribal viashino nomad, now a bounty hunter Abilities: Agile and stealthy fighter, but not as physically strong (average strength, high dexterity) Gear: Roshk fights with a scimitar and throwing knives. If he loses his weapons or otherwise cannot use them, he attacks with his teeth and claws. Home: Some isolated, unnamed desert area on Avelaide Goals: Survive, acquire money, someday reunite with his tribe Personality: Roshk presents himself as a cold and ruthless killer, which is mostly true, but he is also pretty insecure. He doesn't speak much, but when he does he is kind of sarcastic. Fighting Style: First off, Roshk will always try to ambush and immediately eliminate an opponent. If that fails, he darts in and out, using quick scimitar strikes to bring them down. If faced with a very strong opponent that would be dangerous at close range, he tries to stay out of reach, weaken and/or immobilize them with throwing knives, and then rush in for a killing blow. If Roshk has given up stealth, he tries to intimidate his opponent by roaring, hissing, and cursing them in Viashino. Alignment: Chaotic Neutral, often leans toward True Neutral Favorite Food: Roasted scorpion Favorite Drink: Saridak Juice, which is a viashino beverage made from cactus juice
(I know that not a lot of my character's backstory is established, but a lot of it will be revealed in flashbacks during the tournament.)
@SPyBondPlays I know it's not my place to answer, but I don't think technology is a huge deal. Your character can even come from off plane. Last ToC, one character had a gun, so I believe renaissance-era technology should be fine.
@SPyBondPlays You can use any level of tech you like. Though most of the plane is pretty far back tech wise, there are some sectors where there are lots of advanced tech!
@shadow123 hey, so is it okay if my character is from a cult in the east who worships the Abyss and helped bring the Dragon into the world? The tournament is a ploy by the kingdom to get Friyena to return, so my character's plan to enroll in the tournament steathily to get close to Friyena when she comes back so he can get revenge on her. Is that okay or is that off-limits? I don't want to encroach on anything.
@SPyBondPlays, I don't know how @shadow123 will respond, but from my experience, messing with the abyss gets you killed. My character Arn got killed this way, and in a previous tournament another character died the same way.
@SPyBondPlays I like how you're looking more into the lore! Friyena, however, will be able to see through attempts to backstab her, but it would be an interesting character choice to have them be bitter towards Friyena.
And for what Tonysparks was talking about, in the Tournament of Champions 3 lore...
Three of the four semifinalists died because of their heavy involvement in the abyss
The dragon arose a long time ago out of chance through the abyss, so I would refrain from using that in your story.
@WarriorCatInAhat Yes of course! I actually had a connection to the abyss with one of my winning characters, I just made sure to respect the lore and establish a backstory of her own too.
@theirintheattic There have been a lot of wars throughout the last 100 years through multiple factions. There was one prominent one in Tournament of Champions 1 and another in ToC3, but other than that, if there's a war needed in your characters backstory, feel free to write that in. The stronger backstory you have for your character, the better! I can DM you with more wars after getting in touch w/ jonteman, the creator of the plane
my character comes from a pretty isolated area and lived among a tribe with their own religion. would it be okay for them to never have heard of Friyena, even though they're from Avelaide?
@shadow123 could you just let me know if there have been any wars or large armed conflicts my character could have fought in (in the past 20 ish years)?
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~ [Prologue] - Torn Apart
Kodenko, a plane deeply settled in ancient tradition. For decades, the continents had been at war. Generations picked up the swords of their mothers and fathers, passing on bloodline grudges, deep seeded hatred, and undue prejudice down to their next of kin. Peace was largely unheard of, not in the valleys or the meadows. No spire nor mire, no speck of land across the plane, knew peace. It was a sentiment naught strove for. Peace was fragile and ending. The wrongs of enemies were eternal wounds forever bleeding.In the village of Kadiak, the townsfolk were no stranger to battle. Their finest led the first charges of the Mesa-Hondo war, which ravaged on to that very day. However, there were outcasts among them, The Okubyōmono, who were exiled and near constantly harassed for their outlandish beliefs; the thought that some day, the fighting could end and they could live in peace. The thoughts that maybe, their enemies weren't worth the bloodshed. The thoughts that maybe, they could settle their differences. Michio Akisaki was one of those people, and his bloodline had received extreme spite for it, to the point where he was practically a criminal.
Living just outside the village to at least lessen the harassment, the Akisaki family was a simple one. Coming from three generations of bushi before him, the father of the house Michio was born into war. However, when his mother was mistakenly killed by guards when he was just 5, it scarred him for life. He was forced to train in bushido and go to battle, but he loathed his duty.
Image Credit - Solace by Jonas De Ro (Found on DeviantArt)
Despite being an exile from his village, Michio was able to make somewhat of a living for himself. He was a skilled combatant, but also a talented craftsman. He was also able to find someone who understood him in his wife Haru, and eventually had a daughter named Mia. He avoided battle when possible in favor of selling origami and paper mache, but he couldn't escape the call to duty forever. When his daughter was finally able to start working with Michio on paper craft, he was drafted into the army to engage in a preemptive strike against the neighboring colony of Egress. He questioned his orders, since the colonies had no known hostilities, but it was not use. The life he managed to build for himself was distant as he found himself holding a sword and standing over Egress.
The attack on Egress proved disastrous to Michio. It went against bushido code, the one thing he honored about his training. When he refused to join in on the night raid on the town of Hazlo, he was given a choice; fight, or die. According to the captain his honor meant nothing; as an exile he had none, which was the reason he particularly was chosen for the attack. Outraged, he chose the third option and challenged the commander leading the attack to combat. The battle ended in the death of the captain; now an exile proper for killing a Hondan military official, Michio returned home to relocate his family.
When Michio arrive home, he was unfortunately late. Egressian military officials had gotten word of the attack and sent a counteroffensive into his village. Buildings burned, screams could be heard in the streets, and the thought tore his mind; what if his family was amongst them? He rushed home to the outskirts of the village, where he opened the door. His wife Haru was missing, but that meant she could still be alive. However, he was concerned when he saw his daughter's favorite mask on the floor, a fox mask the two had made together for her to wear. Knowing something was amiss, he investigated, only for his suspicions to be confirmed in the worst way possible; lying on the floor of her room with a bloody blade in her hand was Mia, curled up with a bloody, tightly packed cloth against her abdomen.
"Mia!" Michio called out as he ran to her, panicking.
"Father..." Mia coughed out. "They came for you. I tried to hold them off..."
"What were you thinking, Mia? You should have left! You aren't trained to fight!"
"I would of, but they were going to kill mother... I couldn't let them."
"...so Haru escaped?"
"Yes. Now please... go, before anyone else comes."
"I'm going to get you help, Mia-"
"Please... it's not worth the risk. I did everything I could to save mother. I don't want you to die because of it."
"A-oh..." Michio was tearing up at this point. "I... understand."
"You two can start over. Now go!"
With tears in his eyes, Michio left the village against his will. He had lost his will to fight, and he had to ensure that Haru had made it out alive...
~ [Prologue Part 2] - What Will Unfold From Here?
(This segment is a continuation of my previous segment. Some story elements may be lost on you if you haven't read it.)A year had passed since the attack on Kadiak, the beginning of the Hondo-Egress war, and the death of Mia. Forced to take into hiding, Michio had gotten by on the kindness of strangers, a bit of luck, and a disguise when it was called for. Michio had learned to hone his skills in crafts for more practical uses, such as to cause misdirection with masks that looked like the faces of others. He unfortunately had to abandon his code, but he did it for his still missing Haru, which he still hoped to find. His travels and questions led across continents, and he'd learned to fit in with crowds to make his way from colony to colony.
While he did not find what he had been looking for, fortune eventually shone upon Michio. During his travels, he finally managed to find a place to rest; he came across a monastery, and hoped that those within would welcome him. His thinking was wishful, but he was a stranger with formidable skills; they welcomed him into their fold. What he didn't realize, however, was that to stay there, he had to learn their way. This was the way of ninjutsu, and he was going to prove himself or be banished.
While Michio was initially loathe to start training there, it was worth the time well spent. He was taught several valuable techniques over four years, but little did he know that the greatest thing that would come from his time there wouldn't be there at all. One of the core ideals he was taught there was that, "in order to embrace the future, you must come to terms with your past". One of the tasks he was given to come to terms was to go to his daughter's resting place... to return to Kadiak and perform the proper rites to send her soul into the afterlife.
The voyage back to his real home was long and perilous, taking the course of three months to get there safely. When he arrived, however, he was shocked to find it laid in ruin. No guards blocked his entry. No citizens roamed the streets. The only moving things were smoke and ash in the wind. Some embers still bore heat to this very day, and the only people inhabiting the town were fellow exiles begging for food and water. He began by making his way to his home, which still stood. As he entered, he smelt decay and rot, and knew exactly what waited for him behind the door to his daughter's room. Her rotted corpse laid there, everything untouched... including her paper fox mask. Thinking of it just as something to remember her by, he picked it up, only for a familiar to graze his ears. It was changed, but it was still Mia's...
"Do you see what these wars have caused, father?" She spoke to him.
"Yes... yes I do." He spoke, not even realizing her spirit stood right behind him.
"This is exactly what you said you would happen."
"Yes it is. What... do you suggest we do? Your mother is still missing, after all."
"I love her, but it's one life against thousands. I just want the war to end; we need to take matters into our own hands."
"How will we do that? We're two people against several armies."
Michio felt a tap on his shoulder, and turned to see that Mia held a jar filled with tiny little origami cranes. Hundreds of them, folded meticulously.
"I've always imagined a peaceful world," Mia began "a peaceful world of color, where the wonder of creation could empower the masses and anyone can be whatever they want to be. I want you to wear my mask and see through my eyes; to bring my vision to life."
Without question, Michio donned the fox mask, and suddenly, her spirit rushed in. The jar of cranes sprung open, and the cranes flew into the sky around the village. A spiral of color soon followed them, and slowly, the village bloomed. Plants came back to life, the sky cleared, and the fires extinguished. Eventually, all the damage had been undone, and the cranes took the form of people, walking through the street.
"Wha..." Michio was at a loss for words; Mia had just performed a miracle. He took the mask off to make sure he was seeing correctly, and the cranes formed into an embodiment of Mia. It wasn't translucent; it was real, tangible, her. "What is this?"
"This?" Mia said, chuckling. "This is the power of art. Together, we can bring our vision of a peaceful world to life. We can turn art into the real thing through magic."
[The Akisaki Family]
Main Combatant: Michio Akisaki
Gender: Male
Age: 38
Height: 5' 7"
Blood Type: AB
Hair Color: Black
Eye Color: Red
Place of Origin: Kadiak, Hondo, Kodenko
Race: Human
Occupation: Artist
Alignment: Lawful Good
Favorite Food: Pork Gyoza
Favorite Drink: Matcha Tea
~ Abilities and Combat ~
On his own, Michio focuses on illusions and misdirection in combat to throw his opponents off his trail, then strike with his blade. On his journey, he has learned the ways of bushido and ninjutsu, as well as mild magic. The types of spells he can cast alone are limited, but they include simple illusions, basic mind tricks, magic to amplify his stealth, and mild "imagination" magic that stems from his bond from Mia. This primarily focuses on making objects function like others. For example, a curled piece of paper could block a blow like a shield, or he could use a bow and arrow without a string.Companion: Mia Akisaki
Gender: Female
Age: Deceased
Height: 5' 4"
Blood Type: B
Relation to Main Combatant: Daughter
Place of Origin: Kadiak, Hondo, Kodenko
Race: Spirit
Occupation: Artist
Alignment: True Good
Favorite Food: Miso Soup
Favorite Drink: Yogurt
~ Abilities and Combat ~
Mia bears powerful "imagination" magic, primarily focused around a flock of paper cranes that follow her wherever she goes. She can use them to create objects such as barriers and weapons, and can even attack with them by forming them into attacks or effects (such as tendrils or explosions). She requires her father's assistance to use more complex techniques, but she can hold her own.Michio Akisaki is a bushi turned ninja from the land of Hondo, on the plane of Kodenko. In a realm of war, he aspired for peace, and while his plane could not be saved, he has received a higher calling; the Tournament of Champions offers him a way to secure the peace he and his daughter Mia always wished for.
Backstory: https://forums.mtgcardsmith.com/discussion/comment/220868/#Comment_220868 and https://forums.mtgcardsmith.com/discussion/comment/220870/#Comment_220870
~ The Fox Mask ~
Michio and Mia are bound by Mia's fox mask, which is usually worn by the former in combat. Mia's spirit is destroyed if the mask is shattered, so Michio is currently looking for a way to transfer her essence to something that is far more resilient. Mia can only come out of the mask for brief moments, but is fully autonomous outside it; otherwise, she generally is contained within, sharing her magic with her father.As long as the mask is on Michio's person, he can combine his powers with Mia's to perform incredible feats. Mia's flock increases dramatically in effectiveness when the two work together, and this can turn Mia into a force of nature and Michio into an untraceable target. They can create powerful illusions and distractions, or even turn the flock into sentient creatures to fight alongside them or solid, impervious structures.
The two can also create magical effects without the flock to aid them. This includes greater imaginative feats; two pieces of paper could be a set of wings, Michio could walk up a curved wall and stand on it, and a bow string could snap while the user is aiming.
Lastly, the two can create magical wonders together; these masterpieces are art given souls. The Fox Mask and Mia's flock is the first two examples, but they are more than able to create more when given time...
"It's the only way!" She yelled trying to be heard among the growing noise. "It's the only way to get close to Friyena!"
The fortune teller kept moving forward while the remnants of the vision were still bubbling in his mind... So much death... so much pain... could all this really happen? She took a step to the side just to avoid a couple of vagabonds girls who were running past pursued by a small group of armed men. Her gift had worked for her again, warning her of danger before it happened. She only hoped that her ability to see the future would help her get to the end, Because if she couldn't get close to Friyena... If his prophecy came true...
"Miss... MISS!... There are people waiting" a high-pitched, hurried voice yelled at her, snapping her out of her daydreams.
The man looked her up and down.
Jesper managed to finally reach Nyrine. He didn't have to ask, the girl's blue eyes were wet with angry tears and she was pacing back and forth like a caged lioness. As soon as he saw him, she ran towards him and began to hit him in the chest to express —even more— her frustration.
"That pig laughed! He laughed at me! He said if he let me sign up he'd be charged with accessory to murder! That vile, lousy pig!"
"...You're really going to do this, right?"
They looked into each other's eyes. For a second Jesper felt the people disappear around him and the world stop spinning, Nyrine affirmed.
"I have to".
The world kept turning again. Jasper managed a smile that was trying to look cheeky.
"How lucky then that your best friend is the best thief in the whole world" he said taking out a document with the royal seal and a quill from a fold of his boot "I got one that still has a space...Sign here and you're in"
"BUT LIKE YOU?!" Nyrine said in amazement, it wasn't the first time she had seen Jesper's abilities, but the place was full of people and guards!!
Nyrine signed the document and Jesper managed to return it to its official place. It was done. He only had to take care of keeping Nyrine alive until the end... At any cost.
_____________________
So, that's the introduction of my team. I leave their cards below and a brief description of the characters.
Main character:
https://mtgcardsmith.com/view/nyrine-fortune-teller?list=user
Nyrine may not be the strongest but she wields some basic holy magic and relies on her gift to guide her to victory.
Support character:
Jesper is a playful, playful and skilled thief. He specializes in sleight of hand and diversions and being absolutely, unrelentingly loyal to Nyrine. He will do whatever it takes to make her succeed, even if that includes fighting behind the scenes or sabotaging his competitors to gain an advantage for her.
His vision begins to darken at the edges as blood hemorrhages from the gash across his side. His hand shakes, swiveling the crossbow around to face the shadows, as the other reaches slowly for the blade at his side.
A sudden snapping of branches. A bolt is fired, another loaded and a sword drawn. Otherworldly eyes glow with malice, jagged teeth bare through a wet, distended maw. A long, skinless arm lunges forward as spines bristle and tentacles whip hungrily. In a flash, he is pinned to the ground, the creature snarling atop him. Knifelike teeth pierce his chest and tendrils grasp his limbs as thick, viscous saliva dribbles from the beast's jaws. His armor is slick with blood. His head pounds painfully, his senses already dulling to a panicked haze. He cries out, slashing wildly with his free arm and firing blindly into the monster's broad, deformed chest.
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Ergun bolted upright from his bed, sheets soaked in sweat, clutching frantically at the scars on his chest. After a moment, his breathing calmed and his heartrate slowed to a steady rhythm. The dreams were getting worse. Swinging his legs off the side of the bed, Ergun lifted his hand from his chest to examine the marks on it. Two long, curved rows of jagged tooth marks scrawled from his side, up across his chest, over his right shoulder blade and down to his ribs once more. He could still faintly feel the sharp crunch of the beast's jaws buried in his flesh, rending muscle and splitting bone. More so, he could feel the intoxicating burn of the toxin within the creature's blood and saliva.
His body shuddered as he rose, the scars throbbing an angry purple. With an immense hunger burning his core, he stumbled over to an oaken table laden with alchemical equipment - a small burner, pots of powders and pastes, a mortar, pestle, and several bottles - and quickly snatched a small vial of black fluid, popping off its cork and downing its contents in one swift motion. The shakes and hunger immediately ceased, replaced with a fleeting sense of dizziness and satisfaction. That was close.
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Strapping a bandolier of elixirs and medical supplies over his armor and cloak, Ergun stepped out into the sun. He took a breath, swiveled his head around to survey his immediate surroundings, checked the sword at his side and crossbow collapsed in its quiver once more, and set off. As he strode down the broad marble steps of his manor, he muttered under his breath to seemingly nobody, "For both our sakes, this better work."
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"Oh god..." He grumbled quietly as he passed through an alley. The sun was setting, sending long shadows sprawling across the city landscape and cloaking the alleys, tunnels and bridges in darkness. And in the darkness, the lowlifes of the town thrived.
Hurried footsteps on flagstones and the faint flash of steel in torchlight alerted his senses to their presence. Ergun stopped dead in the alleyway, gently setting down his bag and resting his arms at his side. "You can come out now," he growled. In the periphery of his vision, two silent figures crouched. His reptilian tongue flicked out for an instant, sampling the air. They were nervous, probably unaccustomed to such boldness. Good. "I don't have anything you want. Walk away."
One of the thieves stepped out of the shadows, a long knife in his hand. Damn it, though Ergun. Old leather armor, tattered clothes, cheap knife. They're just kids. "Last warning," He said, a little louder. "Just go home."
"Screw that!" The one with the knife shouted. "Gimme the bag."
"Yeah." The other, larger thief walked up to Ergun's other flank, a large club with nails driven through it clutched in both hands.
"It's just my... medicine." Ergun sighed. Seeing the two weren't budging, he sighed once more and cracked his neck. "Fine." He took a step forward.
"Hey!" The large goon put a meaty hand on Ergun's shoulder. Within the deepest recesses of his being, a primal hunger stirred. Ergun shrugged. "Go for it."
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Ergun stepped out of the alley, covered in blood and miscellaneous bits of viscera from head to toe. "That better tie you over until we get there, because I don't plan on having a bounty on my head," he said to himself.
In the alleyway, in a pool of blood, the two thieves lay with glossy eyes forever open, deep bitemarks across their torn and broken bodies.
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Presenting Ergun Hazrith!
https://mtgcardsmith.com/view/ergun-bane-of-the-vile
https://mtgcardsmith.com/view/ergun-scion-of-the-vile-moon
https://mtgcardsmith.com/view/curse-of-the-vile-moon
Race: Dragonborn
Gender: Male
Age: 34
Height: 6'4"
Weight: 212 lbs
Occupation: Former soldier, now monster hunter for hire
Hobbies: Hunting, reading, calligraphy
Fighting proficiencies: Thoroughly trained in swordplay and archer with both crossbow and longbow for 17 years in military academy. When the curse takes over, he goes into a bloodthirsty frenzy, shrugging off injuries without regard for personal safety or accuracy, destroying anything moving until it is fed and satiated.
Backstory
Nimbu was born from a family of nobility. The family, unable to take care of the child, gave Nimbu away to a temple, where she was raised as a priestess her whole life. She studied the arts of her patron and learned to perform various wards as well as heal others. For most of her life she grew up learning the dogma and devoting herself to the ways of the goddess of light Narish.
Upon turning the age of 16, she began doubting the ways of her patron, as she saw countless lives lost on both sides during the war between the forces of dark and light. She suggested that delving in the forbidden knowledge would help them better understand it to her teacher, but she was shutdown. One night, she snuck through the temple, after obtaining wards to the forbidden chambers of the temple and discovered the multiple tomes of necromancy that had been sealed away due to being evil. She delved into their arts and studied them feverently combining them with the knowledge of her patron until she was caught and banished.
Using her new found abilities, for years she was able to place wards on the the various undead that roamed her surroundings eventually assembling an army of purified zombies that were completely under her control. Never being forsaken by her patron, she was able to channel her patrons power into them and use them for good. After a while though, she began being hunted by the church for her "her use of evil magic' and she once again was looked upon by Narish, as a blinding light enveloped her and took her to a mysterious land.
While she no longer felt a connection with her patron in this land, she felt like she had gained a part of Narish within her. She could use her clerical powers now as freely as she could use her necromantic ones. She vowed to protect good, even if she had to use dark magic in tandem with light's in order to do so. She spent the next few months, slaying undead, curing the ill, and resurrecting those who died before their time using her new art of cleromancy, and eventually she assembled an army of zombies that had given their bodies to her purpose upon death as thanks for her services. She soon heard of a tournament offering a great reward, and while she knew not what it was. She could only hope it was the power to do more good, regardless of where that power lied in the compass.
Name: Nimbu Al'kalesh
Gender: Female
Race: Human
Age: 35
Height: 5'7"
Weight: 135 lbs
Occupation: Exiled priestess, necromancer, cleric
Hobbies: Studding necromancy as well as cleric scrolls, volunteer healing, hunting undead and demons.
Alignment: chaotic good
Abilities - Cleriomancy, Strategist.
She uses her hybrid version of magic, cleriomancy which is both divine and infernal making it hard to counter by either of its composers. She focuses on summoning warded zombies which have their souls and bodies warded with symbols, preventing other necromancers from seizing control over them and preventing clerics from destroying them with divine magic. She commonly commands a trope of six zombies and uses five to engage while using their eyes to gather info, and uses one to guard her at all times. She can use her magic to repair, or shield the zombies, creating a sort of "sword and shield" combo with her being the shield. She avoids directly putting herself in combat, using her defending zombie to attack while supporting it with buffs. She isn't the most capable combatant on her own, but she is very durable due to her array of both healing and necromantic spells. She is also a cunning strategist and she hides while deploying her zombies to fight as a pose to engaging directly.
In front of him were three red tents around a small campfire. Standing in front of the campfire was a guard holding a spear. Roshk crept across the sand, taking a wide berth around the guard and ending up on the other side of the camp. He raced across the ground, drawing his scimitar, and slicing the guard across the neck just as he began to turn his head.
As the man's body hit the ground, Roshk heard footsteps in the sand behind him. He turned around and saw, standing there, a burly man with a scar across his face. This was his target, Grutok. Apparently the man lead a particularly violent bandit gang, and owed quite a few large debts. But none of that mattered to Roshk. All that mattered was the bounty on Grutok's head.
Roshk turned towards his target and spread his arms.
"It's dead or alive, mate. Doesn't make a difference to me. We can do this the easy way-"
Grutok drew a sword from his belt.
"or the hard way..."
Roshk drew his scimitar and sprinted towards Grutok, slashing the blade across the side of his chest and running right past him. Grutok turned around and lunged towards Roshk with his sword, but he dogded aside. Roshk leaped back and drew two throwing knives, flinging them at each of Grutok's legs. The blades hit, and Grutok's knees buckled. His face hit the sand.
Roshk walked over to the man's body and thrust his scimitar right into Grutok's back.
some time later...
Roshk walked through the sandy streets of the town of Aurix, a duffel bag in his left hand. Laid out all around him were sandstone buildings of various sizes, and people of all shapes and sizes walked through the streets.
Roshk took a right down an alleyway and stopped at one of the buildings. He rapped his knuckles on the side of the sandstone wall and waited a few seconds. A section of the wall slid open, revealing stone stairs leading downward.
Roshk walked down the stairs and came to a small stone room. In front of him was a wooden desk, and sitting behind the desk was a man in a black hooded cloak. Roshk dropped the duffel bag on the table.
"I've done it, Zaren. I found Grutok and... dealt with him."
"Well done." Zaren responded. "I have the payment, but I also have... something else. It's an... interesting opportunity, for somebody with your talents."
Zaren handed to Roshk a small bag filled with coins and what looked like a paper flyer of sorts.
Ladies and gentlemen! Warriors and wizards! Beasts and summoners! Angels and demons!
I welcome you to the Tournament of Champions 18!!!!!
Choose your heroes that will enter the tournament where he, she, it, or they shall fight to eliminate the chosen of others until only one is left standing, as the true champion. The heroes of the tournament will fight in stages and for each stage won, the victorious shall continue to the next stage stronger than before. Those that lose shall leave the tournament, willingly or forced.
"I'll think about it." Roshk said. And besides, he thought, what do I have to lose?
PRESENTING: Roshk!!!
https://mtgcardsmith.com/view/roshk-desert-hunter-1
https://mtgcardsmith.com/view/hunters-assault
Name: Roshk Kepeshkamolik (viashino don't have surnames, Kepeshkamolik is his tribe name)
Gender: Male
Race: Viashino
Occupation: Formerly a tribal viashino nomad, now a bounty hunter
Abilities: Agile and stealthy fighter, but not as physically strong (average strength, high dexterity)
Gear: Roshk fights with a scimitar and throwing knives. If he loses his weapons or otherwise cannot use them, he attacks with his teeth and claws.
Home: Some isolated, unnamed desert area on Avelaide
Goals: Survive, acquire money, someday reunite with his tribe
Personality: Roshk presents himself as a cold and ruthless killer, which is mostly true, but he is also pretty insecure. He doesn't speak much, but when he does he is kind of sarcastic.
Fighting Style: First off, Roshk will always try to ambush and immediately eliminate an opponent. If that fails, he darts in and out, using quick scimitar strikes to bring them down. If faced with a very strong opponent that would be dangerous at close range, he tries to stay out of reach, weaken and/or immobilize them with throwing knives, and then rush in for a killing blow. If Roshk has given up stealth, he tries to intimidate his opponent by roaring, hissing, and cursing them in Viashino.
Alignment: Chaotic Neutral, often leans toward True Neutral
Favorite Food: Roasted scorpion
Favorite Drink: Saridak Juice, which is a viashino beverage made from cactus juice
(I know that not a lot of my character's backstory is established, but a lot of it will be revealed in flashbacks during the tournament.)
I want to make a entry, but I am wondering what the level of technology there is on Avelaide, is it medieval or Renaissance?
(Insert they "massacred my boy" meme)
And for what Tonysparks was talking about, in the Tournament of Champions 3 lore...
The dragon arose a long time ago out of chance through the abyss, so I would refrain from using that in your story.
like, once they had an encounter with an abyssal monster/creature whatever
@theirintheattic There have been a lot of wars throughout the last 100 years through multiple factions. There was one prominent one in Tournament of Champions 1 and another in ToC3, but other than that, if there's a war needed in your characters backstory, feel free to write that in. The stronger backstory you have for your character, the better! I can DM you with more wars after getting in touch w/ jonteman, the creator of the plane