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Imaginative Profiles

Discussion in 'UO Legends' started by Demon Wind, May 27, 2010.

  1. Demon Wind

    Demon Wind Sage
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    Does anyone make profiles for characters anymore? Well here is mine. :) Hope others take the time to use the imagination a bit more. Let's see what we come up with.


    In the distant horizon shadows fall. A soft stir in the breeze, whispers weaving their way through the trees. Dusk falls over the land, silence echos in the early shadowed moonlight. A flash of lighting across the skies, rolling thunder shatters the night's silence. A faint stirring of leaves mounting gradually, then the fury that comes with .....Demon Wind
     
  2. DevilsOwn

    DevilsOwn Stratics Legend
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    not much imagination, but an explanation of who I was.... after Kes was shut down I came here and made again my three characters from Kesmai, being very sure that I would not be able to tolerate this new land and not stay long.... as you can see, 122 months later, still here rolleyes:

    [​IMG]
     
  3. Uriah Heep

    Uriah Heep Crazed Zealot
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    Hope things work out where you stay for a bit ;):)
     
  4. Lord Urza

    Lord Urza Guest

    Lightning illuminates the sky accompanied moments later by a chest rumbling explosion of sound.
    Lord Urza first wiping the fog from the lenses of his enchanted bifocals leans forward peering threw a crack in an old wooden wall of a log cabin next to the shore of a wreaking bog, A sliver of light dividing his face almost in half.

    The sight inside stealing his breath away instantly, and re enforcing the urgency and purpose which he came to this unholy swamp with.
    A swirling mass of magic flame, and chanted words of power filling the air of the room inside.
    A green pyre leaping and diving in front of a shrouded cloaked figure weaving his stick like arms about in front of him.

    Feeling his breath rush back into his lungs the holy crusader seized the moment driving the sole of his boot into cabin's rickety door, knocking it from its hinges slamming down onto the floor a cloud of dust rolled across his feet as he stepped inside.
    The green pyre sputtered turning black then back to its normal size and the true color of flames.
    Lord Urza swung his shield first into a brazier placed just inside the doorway, sending it sprawling red hot coals scattered on the grimy flood, and tattered rug setting it ablaze in moments.

    "Your Reign of fear in this land is at an end abomination"

    The cloaked figure tossed its head back, causing its hood to fall away from its wrinkled withered husk of a face, a single remaining eye peering into Urza's chilling his soul.
    A spell filled scream emanated from the lich causing his knees to go weak and almost give out under him.

    Lifting his trusted sword overhead.

    "May your soul find peace at the end of my blade "

    Heaving the blade downward slicing into the lich's skull threw its torso the blade exiting out of its hip, cutting the ethereal scream silent in the night.

    Staggering out into the bog, knees still weak from the powerful magics of the scream, sagging to the mossy soil. Lord Urza recites a short prayer to purify the land, the cabin now an inferno behind him.
     
  5. Rumil of Lorain

    Rumil of Lorain Journeyman
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    Demon Wind I was gonna use this on a story night but alas you asked for it.

    The small fire lit the cave, casting shadows and a reddish light over the jagged, dirt and stonewalls.
    The fire crackled as Rumil tossed another handful of dry pine needles and pinecones onto in.
    He had been unable to find anything better to use on his fire that was dry, due to the raging storm outside.
    As soon as the fire was higher again, Rumil leaned back onto some warm rocks and became comfortable again.
    The small fire and his thick cloak were the only things the ageing man had to keep himself warm during the chilly night.
    He sighed and half closed his eyes.
    These cold nights were no stranger to him.

    He had spent plenty of them, hiding in the shelter of caves and under hedges.
    At his side lay his leather pack, his old, rune covered sword and an old, worn wooden staff with a rusting iron band around the bottom.
    Out of habit, Rumil pulled the staff across his knees and stroked the rusted metal.
    "Nearly forty years, old friend. Nearly forty years," he murmured. He placed down the staff and lifted his sword.
    It was a heavy weapon, but Rumil had wielded it for nearly as long and no longer noticed how much heavier it was than other weapons.
    He carefully traced the runes with his calloused fingertips. Written in soft Elven runes were the words he had always trusted.
    Translated into English, it read, 'All those who shalt wield Ellihist need not fear the darkness'.


    Rumil closed his eyes for a moment and the old pains in his side returned, as he remembered that day.
    He fingered the long, jagged purple scars below his tunic and breathed heavier. It was exactly thirty-nine years,
    ten months and four days earlier that the Battle of Britain had occurred.
    That day had been seared into his memory and he had never been able to shake off the thoughts of that dark day.
    He had been twenty years old and in his last year as a squire.
    The castle of Britian was a tall structure that was built for battle.
    It was said no man could penetrate the walls.
    The people of the castle were men of war who were the main defence between
    the peaceful lands of Sosaria and the terrible dungeon of Despise.


    It was mainly man who inhabited Sosaria, but there was the occasional stray Dwarf or an Elf or two.
    These races got along well, for the races of all Sosaria were welcome in the great castle.
    However, it had been that day the Orc's had come charging from Despise, on the backs of wolves,
    with weapons in hands. It had been Rumil's duty to watch in the Gong tower and ring the large metal gong if danger approached.
    He had seen them coming, a black line, stretching out across the entire horizon.
    He had rung the gong with the metal band around one end of his hard, straight wooden staff, before running to join his comrades.


    He still had his staff when he reached the ground floor.
    Someone had tossed him a sword and helmet as the drawbridge was lowered and the Noble Riders galloped forth
    from the castle to meet the threat. They were tall men who rode enormous warhorses and could kill anything with deadly accuracy.
    They were known as the Noble Riders because of their claim to Nobility.
    Along with two other squires, Rumil had rushed to the walls, amongst the archers, to watch the battle.
    The Nobles were as deadly as the rumours stated. The bulk of their riders had charged through the centre with lances,
    tearing apart a large number of the leaders.

    Smaller groups of the riders,
    armed with curved swords had moved to either side of the Orc's ranks and were slicing off pieces of the enemy.
    Rumil remembered smiling and sheathing his sword. He had held the staff to his chest to keep it out of the way,
    as he watched the fight. Thick black blood was oozing across the fields,
    and a smaller amount of rich red blood seemed to be coating it.
    The Orcs seemed to halt their charge, and then suddenly, there was a roar like thunder.
    The wolves had howled and the tables were turned, and no one knew how. Suddenly,
    one by one the Noble Riders fell, disappearing amongst the black mass of the opposing armies.


    The cries of the men were heard as they fell. Soon, there were no more.
    The laughter and cheering could be heard from the Orc ranks as they began their charge again.
    Lord British, King of Sosaria had appeared on the walls, watching with a steely glint in his eyes. "They grow,"
    he had said to the captain of the archers.

    "Be ready to strike when they are within range."
    "Yes, my lord," the slim archer had replied.
    Rumil and the other squires had moved away from the archers to give them room.
    They found an empty space to watch, when a knight appeared and grabbed Rumil and the nearest squire by the shoulders.
    The knight was Rumil's older brother Alanon, who had been a knight for a year.
    "The knights will charge soon, young friends. Be ready to charge with them!"
    he warned, before hurrying on to tell some more squires.

    Rumil had tightened his helmet and tapped his light chain mail.
    Still holding the staff, he moved to the ground floor once again,
    but this time in the courtyards near the stables and the larger gates.
    There he waited amongst the other ranks. He could not see any of his three brothers.
    Outside, the cries of the Orcs were close. On the walls above, the archer's bows were singing.
    The arrows that rained down on the enemy were gleaming white and strengthened by countless mages.
    Suddenly, Lord British appeared from above, dressed in his full gold armour.
    "To your horses!" he bellowed.


    The knights obeyed instantly, ready for this challenge.
    The King mounted his blazing white horse and ordered them to move into their columns.
    They obeyed instantly. Rumil was amongst the back rows, with other squires.
    His sword was in one hand and the other rested the staff across his knees.
    They waited for what seemed like an hour when the king roared for the gates to be opened.
    The knight's charge was a blur in Rumil's memory.

    However,
    it was around an hour later that all the troops were fighting on foot,
    the knights included. Rumil was fighting desperately by the body of his dead brother.
    He did not know that it was his eldest brother beneath the armour at his feet,
    with a spear in his chest. He did not know that his other two brothers were also dead on either side of the battlefield.
    Alanon with a crossbow bolt in the throat, which had pierced his armour.
    The body of Rumil's younger brother, a squire of only sixteen, lay at the feet of a Orc general.

    The boy's head was atop the Orc's spear.
    Rumil had dropped his staff and not moved from where he stood for some time, as he fought off several of the enemies.
    The wolves had been frightened off when Lord British's mages had hurled balls of flame earlier.
    Rumil skewered the Orc he was fighting and turned to face another, when Lord British appeared at his side, with Ellihist in his hand.
    The pair fought through three more Orcs when one of their captains had appeared.


    He was slightly taller that Rumil and dressed from throat to toes in black chain mail.
    He grinned sickly and lunged at the king, crying a word in the Orc Language that made Rumil shuddered.
    British and the Orc fought back and forth, while Rumil and another soldier protected the king's back.
    Rumil turned when he heard British cry out.

    Ellihist had been snapped in two a foot below the hilt and the King was on his knees,
    bleeding from below his crushed helmet.

    As the Orc captain brought his sword down for a final blow,
    Rumil moved in and blocked it. With a curse, the Orc brought his sword down again;
    driving in through the chain mail and slicing Rumil open from below the rib cage to the hip.
    He had fallen by his king with a cry.
    The Orc captain stood above gloating as he raised his sword for the final blow as he kicked aside Rumil's own sword.
    Rumil's fingers groped behind him on the blood soaked ground for a weapon and his fingered tightened around a wooden staff.

    He clutched it, and with all his might, swung a blow into the air, catching the Orc across the cheek with the metal band.
    He cried out as black blood touched his cheek where the metal had struck.
    His eyes narrowed in anger. Rumil's eyes flashed to his side and he pulled the broken sword from British's hands.
    He swung forward and jabbed the Orc's knee with the jagged points where the sword had broken.
    While the Orc was distracted by the suddenly, low pain,

    Rumil shot up and drove the blade upwards,
    through his chin and into his skull. After drawing the sword out, Rumil groaned and collapsed.
    The last thing he saw before losing consciousness was the King, pulling himself up and looking at him strangely.
    When Rumil had awoken, he was in the infirmary. His chest and side were heavily wrapped in bandages.
    Lord British was standing over him with a strange look of respect and concern in his dark eyes.
    "Welcome back, lad," the king had said with a slight smile.
    "Thank you, your majesty," Rumil mumbled.

    He had lain still for a moment before his eyes widened.
    "Your sword, sire. I dropped it on the battlefield-"
    "The battle is over and I brought both halves of Ellihist back with me.
    I want it to be reforged before I presented it to you."
    "To me? Sire I-"
    "I also found this on the battlefield. It saved both our lives and I thought you would like to keep it,"
    the King was holding the wooden staff with the iron band.
    "Sire, your sword. I cannot-"
    "Yes you can, Rumil. You saved my life and I owe you. It is the least I can do.
    The blade is worth far less than what I should reward you."
    "I - Thank you, sire." Rumil had given up at that point and fallen asleep again.
    Opening his eyes, Rumil glanced at his small fire.
    The flames were dying again and he was growing cold. He tossed on some more pinecones and lay back down.
    He gently touched his ancient staff a final time before curling up to his sleep.
     
  6. Penderrin

    Penderrin Journeyman
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    Rumil, always great. Seems you've already set it up for story night format too, the format does make it a hard read for me though. The other ones are great too. :)
     
  7. Rumil of Lorain

    Rumil of Lorain Journeyman
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    Hows that is it easier for you I know it is for me
     
  8. Demon Wind

    Demon Wind Sage
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    (This is a profile/history of a character I played on AOL about 6 yrs ago.)

    I am happy with who I am.

    Kristopher asked me once, when he and I met, if I was happy in my life. At the time, I wasn't able to answer him, or look in his eyes, for fear that I would betray myself. I've had a hard life, been through things I'll not talk about with anyone other than those closest to me. There are things that even Kristopher does not know about, things I have not been able to tell him. I know that someday, I will be able to tell him everything, but not today, nor tomorrow.

    When I pass the children on the streets, huddled in rags and shivering in the cold, I can't help but wonder if they had the courage that I did not. I wonder if their father beat them, degraded them with derogatory terms and treated them like slaves. When I think back on my past, I shudder with revulsion, and I have to fight to not break down.

    It is becoming easier these days, to look back on what happened and suppress the well of emotions that come with the memories. Kris has helped me with that more than anything in this world, but he cannot help me with everything. I must deal with my emotions, and be strong against whatever else will come down our path that we walk. I take comfort in the knowledge that we will walk it together, face the dangers together, and share the joy together. Never before have I experienced the love and kindness from anyone.

    Except for Cyrus. Kristopher’s brother was the first I met, the first to become my friend. I feel sad, when I realize that I had never even known what a friend was then. And Cyrus, precious Cyrus, was the first. He was also the one to introduce me to the love of my life, Kristopher. I don't think Cyrus had known that would lead to love, in fact if he had known, I wonder if he would have even introduced Kris and I.

    Cyrus was always a good man, brave, confident, kind, but he was not humble or realistic. He would attack a dragon if he felt it had offended him. He was quick to anger, and harbored a grudge when he was wronged, or believed he was. I found out later, that Cyrus had been in love with me also. When I began showing affection for Kristopher, it tore Cyrus apart inside, sparking jealousy and anger towards his very own brother.

    My heart was rent when Cyrus left us, our trio reduced to a duo by his absence. I didn't understand what had happened to him, why he had changed, why he was so unhappy and felt he had to leave. Kris would not tell me, so I was unprepared when Cyrus came back, told me that he loved me, always had, and he gave me a choice. Him or Kris. I was unable to answer him at the time, my mind in a whirl of confusion, and so my chance to tell him what I felt came and went, and I never got another.

    It is funny when you look back on your life, think about the things you could have changed, wonder about what would have happened differently. I wonder, and will always wonder, if I had told Cyrus I loved him if he would still be alive today. If maybe Kris would not. I know that I would not have told him that, for even then I loved Kristopher, and if I claimed otherwise I would be lying, to Cyrus and myself.

    It still pains me that I was not able to make things right with Cyrus, still burns in my conscience. I can't help but feel that it was unfair that I was not able to say good-bye, to be with him when he died. It gives me a little comfort, at least, to know that his brother was there for him. Even though Cyrus resented him for being the object of my affections, they still loved each other. I know that in my heart, and I am glad that they were there for each other in the end.

    Kristopher told me that he hadn't had to suffer for very long, that he died quickly and without great pain. I feel like there is more that he hasn't told me, but I am untroubled by it. When he is ready, he will confide in me, I know this and believe with all my heart that he will have dealt with his feelings by then, so that he can help me deal with mine if needed.

    Until then, I will take things in stride, knowing that Kristopher is there for me, and that Cyrus is with us in our hearts. I am content for now, walking beside my love, even though we are hunted, I know that together, we will face any peril, and foe, and any feelings. Together.

    For now, I am happy with myself and the decisions I have made in my life thus far. I don't regret for a single moment that I am with Kris. I don't dwell long on my tormented memories, for Kristopher is always there to remind me of the joyous memories that we share. Memories must be remembered like love, with the laughter and the tears. Each makes the other worth the decisions made, make life worth living.

    And for now, I am content.

    I am happy with who I am.
     
  9. Cash

    Cash Journeyman
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    who were u 6 years ago?
     
  10. Demon Wind

    Demon Wind Sage
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    A character?
     
  11. JOHN HANKOCK

    JOHN HANKOCK Adventurer
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    he's wanting to know name wise...
     
  12. Demon Wind

    Demon Wind Sage
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    On AOL? On UO? where exactly? Not that it matters. I was not in Legends 6 yrs ago just so ya know.
     
  13. JOHN HANKOCK

    JOHN HANKOCK Adventurer
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    i'm guessing AOL seein' how thats what u mentioned. ;d
     
  14. Demon Wind

    Demon Wind Sage
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    The Character that profile was about was Kaiya Santoro Long Long Longgggg ago!
     
  15. Demon Wind

    Demon Wind Sage
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    Paths of Life

    In life, the paths we take are determined by the choices we make. Rarely is someone forced down a path, even when it seems there is no other choice, one can always make the final choice. There is no "road less traveled", nor one more traveled. Each road is unique to the walker, each path created by the steps upon it.

    Whether we walk in darkness or in light, we must follow our paths that we have chosen, and when a fork in the road appears, we must decide which path to take from there. We will not always choose the right path, or the path others would see as right. We choose instead, the path that our heart and soul guides us down. In turn, these paths guide us, helping us to shape ourselves into what we are.

    In death, who is to say whether our journey has ended or not. Perhaps this life is merely one small portion of the path we will walk for eternity, ever deciding which path we will walk.
     
  16. Penderrin

    Penderrin Journeyman
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    Demon Wind,
    So where were you when I tried to put together stories in game? Maybe not around at the time. And where were you on story nights??? *shakes fist*
     
  17. Demon Wind

    Demon Wind Sage
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    huh? Stories? Story nights? *thinks* Depending when this was I might have been still on LS or out in T2A doing spawns or maybe just not looking on this board. Heck I could have been half asleep for all I know. I am here now although I'm sure alot wish I wasn't :lol: As for stories here it goes!

    Once upon a time in a small torn down village outside Magincia ......(to be continued) :p
     
  18. Rumil of Lorain

    Rumil of Lorain Journeyman
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    So you wish to tell a story do ya, How about hosting a storynight.
    I can help and I am sure I can talk a few good people to help