- Joined
- Sep 22, 2007
- Messages
- 5,662
- Awards
- 8
- Age
- 28
Oh, why not? I'm anxious to get back in the swing of roleplaying.
Besides, Eve needs more scary crusaders.
Terrible lizards.
Name: Sir Evon, the Champion of Eve
Age: 34
Affiliation: Priest and Follower of Eve; leader of the Holy Armament
Element: Lifedrain
Abilities:
Appearance: Six years of wandering, preaching, and fighting in the name of Eve have added ten years to Sir Evon's face. The stubble on his wide, sharp chin is prematurely peppered with gray. Wrinkles have formed around his mouth and under his eyes, and his dusty brown hair is thinner than it once was. A thin scar runs diagonally from his forehead to his left cheekbone. Nevertheless, he could once have been called handsome, and traces of his good looks remain. Evon's smile is still wide and bright; his eyes, clear and intelligent.
Hefting a massive iron cudgel—to say nothing of wearing a full suit of armor—has forced Sir Evon's body to grow stronger. He already stands at an even six feet; as his physique went from average to toned to bulky, he became somewhat intimidating to look upon. The odd scars of battle have done nothing to diminish that. His Renegade mark is on his lower torso, beneath his right arm.
When acting as a priest of Eve, Evon dresses in a simple white tunic and brown worker's trousers, belted by a hempen rope. He intentionally avoids wearing any symbols or images of the Goddess, to facilitate a quick escape from town. Simple and nondescript is his aim. As the Champion of Eve, his attire takes a drastic turn towards the grandiose:
Sir Evon wears a full set of plate armor, made from the same alloy used in the breastplates of Concordian officers. The design, however, is modeled after the knightly armor of generations past. Elaborate scrollwork forms a curved "V" around the collarbone of his breastplate, at the center of which is etched a rune signifying Eve (ᚾ). Scrollwork continues along the edges of his pauldrons and greaves, and similar runes are etched into top of each gauntlet. His helm is capped with a wide horizontal crest, in which the symbol of a Renegade is cut out. The full ensemble looks altogether silly and pompous—but intimidating, nonetheless.
Personality: Since his epiphany on the other side of the world, Sir Evon has ever devoted himself to the Goddess, seeking only to manifest Her will on Athos. He exudes a sense of calm self-assurance, built on the arrogant assumption that any act done in the service of Eve is good. In his eyes, any act that advances his own position is therefore right—as he is the Champion of the Goddess. Hubris and humility are bound together in this man’s heart. His faith in Eve transcends hope, and borders on delusion.
But Sir Evon is human, even so. Sin and excess rouse him to anger, just as poverty moves him to pity. His sense of justice is not so skewed that he would ignore a person in need. Above all, he stays true to the principle that every human being—having been made according to Eve’s design—has an innate dignity. Evon respects even the soldiers of the Concordian Empire, he having been one himself. Only the Elite Force—those who purposely ignore the command of the Goddess—has earned his complete hatred.
Biography: His name was not always Evon, nor did he always call himself “sir.” Born under the name of a time-honored noble family—the Catalina family—young Quintus was the sole heir to countless lands and a massive fortune. He lived, for the most part, as he was expected to live: He grew up on his father's estates, won honors as an officer in the Concordian army, and married a young lady who was just as pretty and wealthy as he was. Quintus proceeded along his family's predetermined path, and was happy because he felt it was expected of him. He certainly had no reason not to be happy.
Then his wife fell ill, and died. In the immediate days after, he was crippled with grief. He mourned as a young nobleman should, and saw his beautiful wife buried. It was only in the weeks following the burial that he realized something...
He had never loved her. She was sweet, docile, and beautiful beyond compare. She wasn't very intelligent, but had always been pleasant company, even when they were alone. But after she was laid to rest, Quintus found himself walking through the same routine he had set for himself as a bachelor. It disturbed him—how false and easy his happiness was. After some deliberation, he decided to take a long vacation, out-of-country.
Not quite knowing what he was doing, Quintus Catalina purchased a small cottage abroad, in the remote country of a foreign nation. He was certain that removing himself from his old, glutted environment would show an improvement inside, or a revelation of some kind. Weeks passed without incident or progress. Weeks dragged into months.
Then, without warning, he fell dangerously ill. At night, the pain in his side was so unbearable that he screamed aloud, not stopping until he fell unconscious.
With the village doctor away, Quintus sent for a local medicine woman—thought foolish for her beliefs, but valued as a midwife and healer. She tended to his affliction right away, giving him painkilling herbs while periodically checking his side, as if expecting something. When his agony had finally subsided, the medicine woman lifted Quintus's shirt to reveal a dreaded black mark. The mark of a Renegade—a dangerous monster, doomed to go insane.
But then the old woman cracked a dubious grin, and spoke to him of Eve.
She revealed then that she was no simple midwife, but a priestess of the forgotten goddess.
Urganda, the high priestess of a secret congregation, revealed the truth of the world to Quintus. Eve, the One True Goddess, had chosen him for the purpose of rebuilding Athos. His destiny was not a matter for family or money to decide—but for the divine. The heir to the Catalina fortune felt a budding hope in his heart, a newly awakened purpose that bubbled forth, waiting to be expressed. He could finally see whence true happiness came—and it was vast and infinite as the sky.
Quintus eagerly joined Urganda as an acolyte of Eve's priesthood. He renounced his family name, his birth name. In their place he chose the single name Evon, an ancient name taken by male devotees of Eve. A two-month vacation unfolded into three years of service, study, and meditation.
A different man returned to the Catalina estates. Quintus's father had died the previous year; the news was sent to his son's cabin, which had long since been abandoned. Now Evon, in order to pursue his new vision of life, designated a new purpose for his family's wealth. He had read, as both a little boy and a student of history, of knights who swore their lives to a single purpose. Oftentimes, it was a lady. The truest knights would claim no gold or glory for themselves, but work tirelessly in the service of their order—and slay those who would harm their sworn mistresses.
It was a foolish dream—half history, half fantasy—but it spoke to Evon's newly found faith.
In Concordia, a land of oppression and violence, he would serve Eve through warfare. He would strike down those who befouled her name, and exalt the virtuous. He would become her champion, and lead an order of like-minded knights.
A suit of updated knightly armor was commissioned, and the ancestral weapon of the Catalina family was reforged. A monstrously huge iron hammer, also called Catalina, became Sir Evon's chosen weapon. Tarnished from age, warped from usage in some ancient battle, it was given a new shape and purpose under the Goddess. Her image was inlaid into each of its hexagonal facets, and the Catalina family crest was replaced with the Renegade's Mark.
Evon sold every last treasure of the Catalina clan—all the estates, all of the lands.
Through legal battles with his distant relatives, he was able to acquire and sell every last scrap of the Catalina fortune.
He collected these resources in a sort of safehouse, an abandoned temple of Eve. This became the main meeting hall of the Holy Armament, a brotherhood of outlaws serving Eve. By wandering and preaching to the masses, Sir Evon has recruited a dozen loyal knights—some human, some Renegade. They travel in pairs, and meet in a designated temple after a certain time has passed. They are wanted men, hunted by the Concordian Elite, and feared by the ignorant. But for every six villages that spurn them, the seventh will contain at least one man sympathetic to their cause.
Now Evon has seen it: The evening of the world is at hand.
The time has come for the Holy Armament to enter the enemy's hive, Odessa...
Other: Character Theme - "Chosen by the Goddess" | Combat Theme - "Compel Them to Servitude"
Besides, Eve needs more scary crusaders.
Terrible lizards.
Name: Sir Evon, the Champion of Eve
Age: 34
Affiliation: Priest and Follower of Eve; leader of the Holy Armament
Element: Lifedrain
Abilities:
Vampiric Warrior - By killing another human being, Sir Evon is temporarily invigorated by their body's lost energies. His physical strength is bolstered, his exhaustion melts away, and his wounds close with unnatural speed. Continuous combat is hardly a trial for him, so long as he continues to kill. However, as with all variants of Lifedrain, this power suffers from waste and inefficiency. The effect can be likened to being doused with water: In the heat of battle, Sir Evon is awash with his enemies' stolen vigor, but that strength is constantly dripping away. If unused, it will become useless, and leave his body.
Life Transfer - Through physical contact—flesh against flesh—Sir Evon can transfer health between himself and another. He most often uses this power to administer healing to the sick or wounded, a process that requires only his own will. It takes quite some time to perform any serious healing, and the act leaves him exhausted after just an hour. The effects, however, are immediately felt. Draining life works similarly, but tends to fail if the victim is able to consciously resist Sir Evon. Only unconscious or dying persons guarantee a successful life drain.
Undeath - The most costly variant of Lifedrain, used only twice in Sir Evon's life. If he is felled in battle, Sir Evon's body will quickly withdraw blood and nutrients from all superfluous life processes. His digestion system stops, his skin shrivels up, his muscles deflate, and his eyes dim. Less important blood vessels alternate between being open and shut. In place of a man, a desiccated corpse clings to life until a suitable candidate for Lifedrain appears. (The men of the Holy Armament, fiercely loyal to their leader, are willing to save his life by each offering a sliver of his own.)
Life Transfer - Through physical contact—flesh against flesh—Sir Evon can transfer health between himself and another. He most often uses this power to administer healing to the sick or wounded, a process that requires only his own will. It takes quite some time to perform any serious healing, and the act leaves him exhausted after just an hour. The effects, however, are immediately felt. Draining life works similarly, but tends to fail if the victim is able to consciously resist Sir Evon. Only unconscious or dying persons guarantee a successful life drain.
Undeath - The most costly variant of Lifedrain, used only twice in Sir Evon's life. If he is felled in battle, Sir Evon's body will quickly withdraw blood and nutrients from all superfluous life processes. His digestion system stops, his skin shrivels up, his muscles deflate, and his eyes dim. Less important blood vessels alternate between being open and shut. In place of a man, a desiccated corpse clings to life until a suitable candidate for Lifedrain appears. (The men of the Holy Armament, fiercely loyal to their leader, are willing to save his life by each offering a sliver of his own.)
Appearance: Six years of wandering, preaching, and fighting in the name of Eve have added ten years to Sir Evon's face. The stubble on his wide, sharp chin is prematurely peppered with gray. Wrinkles have formed around his mouth and under his eyes, and his dusty brown hair is thinner than it once was. A thin scar runs diagonally from his forehead to his left cheekbone. Nevertheless, he could once have been called handsome, and traces of his good looks remain. Evon's smile is still wide and bright; his eyes, clear and intelligent.
Hefting a massive iron cudgel—to say nothing of wearing a full suit of armor—has forced Sir Evon's body to grow stronger. He already stands at an even six feet; as his physique went from average to toned to bulky, he became somewhat intimidating to look upon. The odd scars of battle have done nothing to diminish that. His Renegade mark is on his lower torso, beneath his right arm.
When acting as a priest of Eve, Evon dresses in a simple white tunic and brown worker's trousers, belted by a hempen rope. He intentionally avoids wearing any symbols or images of the Goddess, to facilitate a quick escape from town. Simple and nondescript is his aim. As the Champion of Eve, his attire takes a drastic turn towards the grandiose:
Sir Evon wears a full set of plate armor, made from the same alloy used in the breastplates of Concordian officers. The design, however, is modeled after the knightly armor of generations past. Elaborate scrollwork forms a curved "V" around the collarbone of his breastplate, at the center of which is etched a rune signifying Eve (ᚾ). Scrollwork continues along the edges of his pauldrons and greaves, and similar runes are etched into top of each gauntlet. His helm is capped with a wide horizontal crest, in which the symbol of a Renegade is cut out. The full ensemble looks altogether silly and pompous—but intimidating, nonetheless.
Personality: Since his epiphany on the other side of the world, Sir Evon has ever devoted himself to the Goddess, seeking only to manifest Her will on Athos. He exudes a sense of calm self-assurance, built on the arrogant assumption that any act done in the service of Eve is good. In his eyes, any act that advances his own position is therefore right—as he is the Champion of the Goddess. Hubris and humility are bound together in this man’s heart. His faith in Eve transcends hope, and borders on delusion.
But Sir Evon is human, even so. Sin and excess rouse him to anger, just as poverty moves him to pity. His sense of justice is not so skewed that he would ignore a person in need. Above all, he stays true to the principle that every human being—having been made according to Eve’s design—has an innate dignity. Evon respects even the soldiers of the Concordian Empire, he having been one himself. Only the Elite Force—those who purposely ignore the command of the Goddess—has earned his complete hatred.
Biography: His name was not always Evon, nor did he always call himself “sir.” Born under the name of a time-honored noble family—the Catalina family—young Quintus was the sole heir to countless lands and a massive fortune. He lived, for the most part, as he was expected to live: He grew up on his father's estates, won honors as an officer in the Concordian army, and married a young lady who was just as pretty and wealthy as he was. Quintus proceeded along his family's predetermined path, and was happy because he felt it was expected of him. He certainly had no reason not to be happy.
Then his wife fell ill, and died. In the immediate days after, he was crippled with grief. He mourned as a young nobleman should, and saw his beautiful wife buried. It was only in the weeks following the burial that he realized something...
He had never loved her. She was sweet, docile, and beautiful beyond compare. She wasn't very intelligent, but had always been pleasant company, even when they were alone. But after she was laid to rest, Quintus found himself walking through the same routine he had set for himself as a bachelor. It disturbed him—how false and easy his happiness was. After some deliberation, he decided to take a long vacation, out-of-country.
Not quite knowing what he was doing, Quintus Catalina purchased a small cottage abroad, in the remote country of a foreign nation. He was certain that removing himself from his old, glutted environment would show an improvement inside, or a revelation of some kind. Weeks passed without incident or progress. Weeks dragged into months.
Then, without warning, he fell dangerously ill. At night, the pain in his side was so unbearable that he screamed aloud, not stopping until he fell unconscious.
With the village doctor away, Quintus sent for a local medicine woman—thought foolish for her beliefs, but valued as a midwife and healer. She tended to his affliction right away, giving him painkilling herbs while periodically checking his side, as if expecting something. When his agony had finally subsided, the medicine woman lifted Quintus's shirt to reveal a dreaded black mark. The mark of a Renegade—a dangerous monster, doomed to go insane.
But then the old woman cracked a dubious grin, and spoke to him of Eve.
She revealed then that she was no simple midwife, but a priestess of the forgotten goddess.
Urganda, the high priestess of a secret congregation, revealed the truth of the world to Quintus. Eve, the One True Goddess, had chosen him for the purpose of rebuilding Athos. His destiny was not a matter for family or money to decide—but for the divine. The heir to the Catalina fortune felt a budding hope in his heart, a newly awakened purpose that bubbled forth, waiting to be expressed. He could finally see whence true happiness came—and it was vast and infinite as the sky.
Quintus eagerly joined Urganda as an acolyte of Eve's priesthood. He renounced his family name, his birth name. In their place he chose the single name Evon, an ancient name taken by male devotees of Eve. A two-month vacation unfolded into three years of service, study, and meditation.
A different man returned to the Catalina estates. Quintus's father had died the previous year; the news was sent to his son's cabin, which had long since been abandoned. Now Evon, in order to pursue his new vision of life, designated a new purpose for his family's wealth. He had read, as both a little boy and a student of history, of knights who swore their lives to a single purpose. Oftentimes, it was a lady. The truest knights would claim no gold or glory for themselves, but work tirelessly in the service of their order—and slay those who would harm their sworn mistresses.
It was a foolish dream—half history, half fantasy—but it spoke to Evon's newly found faith.
In Concordia, a land of oppression and violence, he would serve Eve through warfare. He would strike down those who befouled her name, and exalt the virtuous. He would become her champion, and lead an order of like-minded knights.
A suit of updated knightly armor was commissioned, and the ancestral weapon of the Catalina family was reforged. A monstrously huge iron hammer, also called Catalina, became Sir Evon's chosen weapon. Tarnished from age, warped from usage in some ancient battle, it was given a new shape and purpose under the Goddess. Her image was inlaid into each of its hexagonal facets, and the Catalina family crest was replaced with the Renegade's Mark.
Evon sold every last treasure of the Catalina clan—all the estates, all of the lands.
Through legal battles with his distant relatives, he was able to acquire and sell every last scrap of the Catalina fortune.
He collected these resources in a sort of safehouse, an abandoned temple of Eve. This became the main meeting hall of the Holy Armament, a brotherhood of outlaws serving Eve. By wandering and preaching to the masses, Sir Evon has recruited a dozen loyal knights—some human, some Renegade. They travel in pairs, and meet in a designated temple after a certain time has passed. They are wanted men, hunted by the Concordian Elite, and feared by the ignorant. But for every six villages that spurn them, the seventh will contain at least one man sympathetic to their cause.
Now Evon has seen it: The evening of the world is at hand.
The time has come for the Holy Armament to enter the enemy's hive, Odessa...
Other: Character Theme - "Chosen by the Goddess" | Combat Theme - "Compel Them to Servitude"
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