Name: Karlsberg Age: 16 Gender: Male KaW History: Spent time in multiple places, clans here nor there, Major events was MoJo and KotfE, Experianced in warfare and leading clans. 15 months of fighting, surviving with some thrills and spills Weapons: Longsword and Hunting knives
Appearance: Tall, Broad shoulders, Short hair, Muscular, Black coat, Black tight trousers with hunting boots, scarred. Blue, resilient eyes. Learned the way of the people before becoming a warrior, Knows what the people want and listens to others
REVOLUTION Character KaW Name: Irin Age: She's timeless. As timeless as KaW itself. You couldn't say with assurance what her age is, though most would guess early twenties, though her wisdom contradicts these beliefs. When asked, she normally finds a way to avoid the question, though once let something slip that suggested she was over two-thousand years young. Gender: Female Appearance: It tends to change around her mood. Though she seems to like the long, light brown hair she's been wearing for awhile, along with her bright green eyes that seem to see right through your intentions, your lies. She's a bit short, and she often styles her hair in a way that will hide the pronounced point of her ear. Whilst working in the Café, she wears an apron stained with coffee, that suggests a calm past and a boring future. Do not take that suggestion to heart. Weapons: Anyone who knows Irin knows she always has something sharp on her person. Besides that, the Café hides in it's walls (very cleverly, of course) enough weapons to arm an army. But there are only two that she holds exclusively for herself in a display case in her room. The first, which is far less interesting than the second, is a seemingly simple sword with the word Memory engraved on the blade. It seems to beckon to be wielded again, seems to call for another battle, seems to want to draw blood again. For it has been many years since Irin even laid a finger on it. The second, which is far more interesting than the first, has a very simple design. It is a pen. No, this pen does not shoot laser beams. It does not have the capability of unlocking heavy duty safes, nor does it elongate into a two-handed celestial bronze sword when you click it. It is a simple, if not elegant, heavy duty, metal barrel pen, and the only way it could be used as a real weapon is if you threw it, and even then you'd have to catch someone in the eye to do any real damage. Not that Irin would ever let this pen out of her sight. It remains in her back pocket at all times, though she does not use it for the trivial matter of taking coffee orders. The papermate pen behind her ear is suitable enough for that. This pen is reserved for important matters only. From the occasional poem, to the occasional novel, to the daily journal entry, to formal declarations of war. Until recently, this enchanted pen was rarely used, but ever since news of the rebellion, this pen has graced her hand nearly every day. For it is known far and wide that, The pen is mightier than the sword. Bio: Irin is the mysterious, and some-what eccentric owner of the writers cafe. Business is slow, and only a few of the regulars come on any given day, even more so now that she gave her consent to let the rebels draw up battle plans there and will harbor anyone with a wanted poster safely within her doors at great personal risk. Irin cares for the Café on her own, and she lives right above it in her own apartment. Some months she can barely make ends meet, but even so, she still manages to stock the Cafe with plenty of Writers Rum, a choice she reconsidered when Cheese found out it's explosive properties. If anything ever happened to the Café...it didn't look like much, but that place was all she had. Again, she arranges her hair so as to cover her ears, though she can let her guard down once in awhile around her regulars and trust that her secret remain safe. She might not 'get' humans, might not understand them all the time, might not comprehend third customs, but she trusted the few who trusted her. A note on the pen: It's, like amazing. Magical properties, all that good stuff. How? That, my dear Cheese, is for you to decide. Just, make it awesome. Anything else, just ask! Hope this is okay.
Name: Annex Age: I cannot say, as Annex doesn't even know his own age, although he appears to be around fourteen or fifteen Gender: Male Appearance: Annex is a lanky, oddly shaped boy, yet he still manages to look graceful. His longish dirty blonde hair almost reaches his shoulders, and his burned skin reflects the weeks working in the fields. His blue eyes seem could be compared to the ocean, bright blue with a mischievous glint in them. His clothes are slightly ragged and tattered, and he has no shoes on his hardened feet. A leather quiver is slung across his shoulder in a nonchalant fashion, as if he didn't have a care in the world (which of course he doesn't) Weapons: The two weapons Annex possesses work together fluidly, as if they were only one, the first being his quick, battle ready mind, and the second a bow. This is not any ordinary bow, but one passed down through his family for centuries. It appears to be made of solid gold, but weighs less than a feather, and when you pull back the string, a golden arrow appears notched and ready to fire straight in to an enemies forehead. Bio: Annex was raised on a farm as a boy, dumped on the doorstep as a baby, with nothing but a package addressed to him, with the instructions not to open until age eleven. Even in his early childhood, Annex showed signs of extraordinary intelligence. By age three, he was buried deep in Shakespeare's "Hamlet" and by age four, he had memorized the play. The signs that Annex was not a normal child only continued to show, until the fateful day where he turned eleven. His foster parents presented him with the box they had found when he was delivered. Inside was the bow that had belonged to his father. And the father before that. And the father before that. It was that day that Annex realized he was not normal, he was special. His long days working in the heat gave him a special distaste for authority, and a rebellious attitude, when his farm fell victim to arson, he came to the big city, out for blood. Don't do this alot, tell me what needs to be fixed
Primodial Fury age: 13 gender: male clothes: dark armor weapons: 1st Shadowspirit, a sword that shatters and steals the target's soul (survivors are in a coma) (souls stored in the hilt gem (increases power). 2nd shadow amulet (increaces the power and control of shadow beasts, shadow portals, and shadow magic). history: His little-know story includes he parents (rulers of a powerful, seclusive knigdom) were killer by shadow mages. He is rumored to, upon killing the mages' mortal forms, to have absorbed their souls and powers. After this event, his powerful, but ordinary, sword became Shadowspirit. On a quest for revenge (what else?) he has raised a powerful kingdom, which he leads from the front. Steath attacks are his specialties.
Name: Thepieman Age: Pick your favorite, I don't give a damn Gender: Male Appearance: Tall troll > Weapons: Throwin' pies and a big hammer