Warhammer: Vermintide

[Shalken]

”As Asuryan wills it, so it shall be.”​

NAME Lysanthir ♦ RACE Wood Elf ♦ GENDER Male ♦ AGE 278 ♦ HEIGHT 6’3” ♦ WEIGHT 194lbs
PROFESSION Waywatcher ♦ RANK Sentinel
VOICE SAMPLE Benedict Cumberbatch ♦ THEME GW2: Heart of Thorns - Auric Wilds​

♦ APPEARANCE ♦​

Though many of the Wood Elves exhibit wilder, more feral physical qualities, Lysanthir’s features are much more reminiscent of his fairer Asur lineage. Tall, lithe, and elegant, some would easily mistake him for being a High Elf. His pear-green eyes gaze out from under his silvery-blonde hair, constantly on the alert; nothing escapes the notice of his keen senses. He does not strut about arrogantly as if he owned the world, instead placing each footstep silently and with purpose. Though his features may sometimes be covered in dirt or blood, he remains dignified nonetheless.


His typical garb is unremarkable, made primarily of various leathers and linens with no loose bangles or buckles that could become entangled in passing branches and bushes. Over his shoulders is draped a long, hooded cloak, mottled with various shades of grey, brown, and green. At his side he carries two daggers, and across his back is his trusty bow, along with a quiver of arrows. Besides these, he carries many other miscellaneous materials, including various herbs of medicinal and magical properties, a coil of rope, and a water pouch, to name a few. He also carries some supplies to create various traps in a pinch.

♦ PERSONALITY ♦​

Despite his many, many years walking the world, Lysanthir remains suspicious of other races, unconvinced that the powers that be would help the keepers of the forest without some kind of underlying personal agenda to exploit its secrets for themselves. In his younger years, this had driven him to great anger and resentment, and he spared no mercy to any outsider that even dared come within bowshot of Athel Loren.


However, his years of traversing the wilds and dangers of the forest gave him much time to contemplate his actions, and Lysanthir’s anger has now mellowed somewhat. Though he is still strongly protective of his homeland, like all other Wood Elves, he has realized that the other races of the world are too short-lived and short-sighted to see the error in their ways. As such, he instead attempts to guide them, like a schoolmaster would a stubborn student.


Lysanthir is kind, but firm, not entirely overbearing or obnoxiously condescending. Not prone to hotheadedness, he will often dwell on an issue for days or weeks at a time before coming to a conclusion. That being said, he is entirely capable of quick decisions when the need arises.

♦ BACKGROUND ♦​

Many years ago, back when Lysanthir was very young and a newly-appointed Waywatcher, he set out to explore the forest, not even caring how lost he became. He loved the forest with all its magic and mystery. One day however, as he wandered near the forest’s edge, he came upon a band of Orks chopping away gleefully at the ancient trees. Filled with rage at these beast’s blatant disregard for the forest’s sacred life, he singlehandedly slaughtered them all, swearing to slay any outsider that even dared encroach on the sanctity of his homeland.


Decades passed, and still his hatred was not quenched. Every arrow he fired, every trap he set, every skill that he honed, all were done in loathing of the other races of the world that would dare even direct their gaze towards Athel Loren.


After years of his ruthless watch, he decided to approach the woodland spirits to request their assistance in leading an assault on the nearby human settlements. The ancient spirits, troubled by his constant warmongering, refused his demands, instead instructing him to “No longer seethe with hatred, but instead ponder the ways of the forest and those that inhabit it.” Though initially enraged with their response, he eventually took their advice in an attempt to prove them wrong. However, as Lysanthir watched the wild creatures and the cycles of nature, his heart softened, and he relented from his wrath. Since then, he has grown greatly in wisdom and skill, and is renowned as one of the best Waywatchers among the ranks of the woodland kin.

Sorry for the terrible backstory, it's all I've got for now.

 

[Loco]

GREY SEER SKITTEREETCH​

NAME: Grey Seer Skittereetch
AGE: 15
HOME CITY: Skavenblight
HEIGHT: 4' 5"
WEIGHT: 125ish
HAIR COLOR: Mottled Light Grey
EYE COLOR: Black
MOTTO: "Not my fault.”

Appearance​

Shorter and more malnourished looking than average, with mangy mottled grey-white fur, nubby horns, and intensely bloodshot little eyes, Grey Seer Skittereetch is not a pretty sight to behold. His razor sharp teeth are cracked and yellowed, his nostrils weirdly large and distorted from snorting too much warp dust- which is probably also why his tail twitchs randomly. Tattered and filthy robes edged in powerful dire-runes and covered in dangling trinkets and magical implements mark him as one of the Horned Rat’s chosen, and as a mark of his station he carries a twisted black staff shod with iron and tipped with a sickly greenish-black fragment of warpstone. The vermin is well equipped for dark magicking, and keeps a healthy supply of warpdust, bones, spell scrolls, and other accoutrements in a belt of human-skin pouches.

While this deranged and decaying appearance could be considered horribly frightening to the lesser races of the world, by Skaven standards the mighty wizard doesn’t look like much. This is something that the great schemer constantly uses to his advantage, making his numerous enemies underestimate his surprising strength, speed, and intense cunning right up until their pitiful demise.

Personality​

Grey Seer Skittereetch may be the most powerful sorcerer the kingdoms of men and beasts have ever seen, or ever will see, and is destined to lead the endless hordes of the great Horned Rat to their inevitable victory over all the known world and beyond- just, for whatever reason, not everyone has caught on to this yet, despite the great Seers monumental efforts and incredible cunning. The mighty prophets grand schemes are continuously brought to ruin by saboteurs unknown, who (in fear for their own dark fates, most probably, anticipating what he might do to them when he reveals himself as the greatest necromancer since Nagash) meddle in his every effort, surround him with incompetent minions and belligerent (and probably heretical) counterparts, interfere with his prodigal spell weaving, and otherwise spoil his every work. Sabotage. It’s all obviously sabotage.

A Brief History​

Born the thirteenth whelp of a thirteenth whelp, with grey fur and nubby little horns, the ratling that would one day become the mighty Grey Seer Skittereetch was always destined for greatness as one of the Horned Rat’s favorite chosen. As an apprentice in the cloistered halls of Priesthood, Skittereetch excelled in every aspect of warp magic taught by the illustrious masters… or, at least, he would have if it were not for the constant interference of his jealous and insecure so-called “peers”. Through sheer force of will, intense cunning, and masterful manipulation and backstabbing of his fellow students, Skittereetch completed his studies, dominating the Labyrinth of the Horned Rat and receiving from the masters his hood, marking him as a Grey Seer.

In typical Skaven fashion, the emissary of the Vermin God wasted no time in setting out to make a name for himself, seeking to prove his superiority in the field. Not content with the petty magics grudgingly taught to him by the masters of the Priesthood, Skittereetch sought out dark texts of forgotten lore, chasing whispers of magic darker than those wielded by any ratmen before him. He searched tirelessly for ways to wield the powers of the dread Necromancer Nagash, knowing that such power would give him the ability to single handedly bend the Council of Thirteen to his superior will and intellect, taking his rightful place as the deathbringers champion, and the final hero of all Skavenkind.

One day- one day soon- the great and powerful Grey Seer Skittereetch will show the lesser races of the old world what it means to fear.

 

[Nor'baal]

@Talon maara

 

[Talon maara]

@Talon maara

Oh snap ok i havent been getting notifications. Il post today