In case you are RPing with me, but are pressed for time/don't want to read my profile, I have provided a condensed version of all my characters here: http://z7.invisionfree.com/pangeandarkfore...0entry4454597Name:
Glenda Mudith (Mother), Dale Rando (Father), Murphy Weschel (Cousin/Friend, Deceased)Age:
Delightful, yet Murderous!Height:
A bit sickly, but with a strange sort of strength. It doesn’t sound much like someone with great physical strength, but rather, of one with great wisdom and experience. It has somewhat of a lilting, laughing quality, as if the person who possesses it had a very good life.Hair Color:
Green, akin to the color of a leaf in summerHair Style:
Flat top, very shortEye Color:
Blue with hints of green around the edges of the irisFacial Structure:
Lean and Severe, Ripkin constantly has a look on his face of a hardened warrior (although his face was too much undamaged for that to be true). His eyes have a slight almond shape, like he might have an Elven ancestor somewhere in his bloodline. Skin Tone:
The only part of his body that is ever exposed is his head, since he sometimes takes off his helmet when he is relaxing. When it is off, people often notice that his skin is a bit more yellow than that of most other people, appearing to have jaundice or some similar ailment.Apparel:
Ripkin wears a full suit of enchanted plate mail armor made from a strange alloy of incredible strength that looks quite a bit like carved wood. It protects him from weapons and magics about the same way that the human body does (albeit, the armor is quite a bit stronger than human skin), experiencing the damage, repairing, and becoming stronger the next time similar damage is inflicted. It was made by Ripkin’s close, childhood friend, Murphy, for when he would leave the village to become a great warrior, and was meant to counteract the downfalls of the Raavi race.
Attached to the armor is a black cape that falls to about knee length.Personality:
Ripkin isn’t what you would call a “people person," but he's a nice guy. He is friendly and kind, but... he's just weird. He likes to hang out with people and have fun more than anything else, something that Murphy had taught him long ago. However, his carefree and often very risque humor leads him to have few friends.
He has a definite craving for attention and affection. It consumes him at times, often making him to attempt to be the "funny guy" or some other popular stereotype. However, he will often realize that the stereotype just doesn't fit him, he is his own man, and so he regains himself. He becomes the Nice Guy again, always looking to help people out, as well as being open and friendly.
He is a hopeless romantic, despite his normal demeanor, in that he can never resist helping a damsel in distress. In fact, he can't even bring himself, an aspiring villain, to kill a woman. It just isn't in him.
He is increasingly delusional, believing that Murphy could not have possibly died of illness. His delusions will often manifest themselves in Murphy either talking to him as a disembodied voice, or simply appearing before him (and everywhere in between). This has led him to believe that Murphy is indeed alive, and following him, keeping an eye on Ripkin, just in case he slips up and needs help. So, whenever he spends a night somewhere, he makes sure there is another room or cot or blanket or fire nearby for Murphy to rest as well, often paying for lodging that is never used.
Ripkin had a fairly normal childhood, at least, for a Raavi. He spent his days in the classroom, surrounded by his peers since the age of 4. He learned how to read and write fluently, cast spells and produce highly detailed art by the age of 7. He was well rounded in these principles, but there was one who was much better than he, his cousin, Murphy Weschel.
Murphy was the top student in Ripkin’s class, and as a result, he was the rival of everyone in it. Ripkin was perhaps the most adamant to beat him, as the two were not exactly on “nice terms.”
It wasn’t exactly that they didn’t like each other… At least, Murphy didn’t think so; it was just that when they got together, not much of a positive result came out of it. It wasn’t a result of bad teamwork or conflicting ideas, it was simply bad luck. And each on blamed the other for the failures that ensued. They always saw the other the same way, a nice guy, but incompetent.
Ripkin wanted to prove that it wasn’t his fault, and the only way to do that was to beat Murphy. He was on the verge of obsession with his dream, spending each day working so hard it made his head hurt, and spent his nights reading text after text by candlelight at his bed. He only stopped working when he went to bed, not even allotting himself time to relax otherwise.
He felt that he was advancing very quickly, but he was always a hair’s breadth away from beating his rival. Murphy was just too good. He had natural talent, while Ripkin had none. The only thing he was even close to being called proficient in was strength, a trait that was very often not important in the Raavi way of life.
Over a few years, Ripkin felt that he was reaching the edge of his limits, and broke off chase. He was distraught that he couldn’t beat Murphy, and even more so when he realized that his failure proved itself once again.
He stopped attending school when he was 14.
He felt a failure, and knew that no matter what he did, he would never be able to amount to anything. He could feel the disapproving weight of his elders upon his back, and he wanted it all to go away. To leave forever.
He thought of many different ways to end it… Stabbing himself… Strangulation… even climbing to the very top and hurling himself off of the great tree that he called his home. He eventually chose the final option, and began to climb. Ripkin lived on the seventh platform, and there were three more above that, the final one having an opening in it so that the elders (who lived on this top platform) would be able to see the goings on of the world.
As he climbed higher and higher, past the school, the town hall, and the square, his heart felt like it was rising as well, just ahead of him, up into his throat. He didn’t know what he was doing anymore as he kept climbing, fear had completely taken over his body, and now he was simply acting on impulse. He could swear that he saw someone following… but when he turned, there was no one there.
He was finally at the very top, looking over the entire landscape for miles when he heard a twig snap behind him. When he turned, he found his rival, Murphy. After some conversation, he came to learn that Murphy had been worried about him when he had stopped attending school. This thought made his suicide attempt seem less worthwhile somehow... Perhaps it was because he now knew that there were people outside of his own direct family that gave a rat's ass about him.
It took a while, but Murphy got Ripkin off of the edge, and back inside. He befriended him, and Ripkin, in turn, became his friend. They stopped working against one another as they had in the past few years, instead choosing to help each other succeed. Soon, their friendship was close enough that they could even share their dreams with one another.
"I don't want to stay in the trees all my life," Murphy said. Ripkin, being a respectable Raavi, was shocked. He had always associated the trees with peace and safety, the idea of leaving them was complete insanity to him.
Murphy looked back at his friend, laughing at his puzzled expression.
"I want to leave my mark on the world... Not just be another face in the trees."
"Maybe... But I think I'll find a way to escape that someday... And then I'll be gone."
Ripkin often playfully mocked Murphy's dream, but he never openly denied its possibility. He didn't want to crush his dreams, no matter how crazy they were. In fact, he even tried to help him out a bit. He was the one who suggested they make a special type of armor.
It was when Murphy and Ripkin were 17 and 18 respectively when they had finished crafting the armor. It was made of wood that Ripkin had carved, and Murphy had force-petrified with Druidic magic so that it would be compatible, then reinforced with Alchemy, merging the stony wood with copper, iron, and gold, making a new metal of amazing strength.
However, the work wasn't done there, magic still needed to be worked. Ripkin used his magic to reinforce the armor with healing properties. A feat he would have to repeat a few more times.
The first set of armor was powerful, yes, but it wasn't up to snuff. Although the metal was sturdy and strong, it was also brittle because of it, shattering when sufficient force was applied. In short, the formula needed some reworking...
It took nearly ten years for them to perfect the material, using a complex series of magical reinforcements and skillful precision. In the end, the armor was made with petrified wood, mixed with iron and gold filling in all the pores within and without. After that, Murphy restored the wood's natural properties, further enhancing it so that it can still grow with minimal care, so that it was basically a live suit of armor. Along with Ripkin's cure magic, the armor would be able to fix itself up with minimal ease and even reinforce itself to compensate.
It was the perfect suit of armor for the Raavi. It made sure that they would always be protected by the power of the trees no matter where in the world they tread.
"Today's the day to test A-083," Ripkin said, "Are you ready to go?"
"You can stop calling the armor by those stupid test names..." Murphy said, stifling a cough, "We're not going to need them anymore when this model works."
"Are you ready to go?" Ripkin repeated.
"Yeah." Murphy said, wiping his nose on his sleeve. "Lets get this going."
Ripkin helped Murphy position the helmet into the clasps so that it wouldn't fall over, then retrieved the handaxe from his workshed (built two years prior).
"A-083: Axe damage test." Ripkin said, "Commencing."
He brought down the axe hard on the armor, and, on the first try, it glanced off, chipping it slightly. As it did, a barely inperceptable green glow permeated the exposed wood. The second strike struck true, sticking firmly into the crest of the helm. When he unclasped the helmet from the stand, he flipped it over, seeing that the blade had just barely entered far enough to stick, yet not far enough to break through the metal. Ripkin heard Murphy cough behind him.
"Seeing exemplary results. Minimal damage done to the armor," he said as he removed the hand-axe, observing the green glow, "Regeneration advancing at a stable rate. Success seems evident."
"Yeah, so now we field test." he said, "Help me get this stuff on."
So Ripkin complied, helping Murphy into his armor and preparing himself with the hand axe. The next portion of testing was part science, part faith. Murphy had a strong sense of faith in the armor... Ripkin, on the other hand, did not. However, he wouldn't deny Murphy his full effort. He swung the axe with deadly accuracy, embedding it into nearly every part of the armor, until it was a mess of chips, gashes, and slashes.
"Feel anything?" Ripkin asked.
"Yeah," he said, breaking into a coughing fit, "but it's not bad..."
Yep, it was a success.
Murphy didn't leave the trees as he had intended that week... In fact, due to an illness, he didn't leave ever. It started out looking like a bad cold, which wasn't anything to worry about, just postpone the trip for a few days. But the cold didn't clear up. It stayed strong for two years. Then it got worse.
Soon, he was coughing up blood as well as phlegm. He wasn't able to get out of bed anymore, he simply didn't have the strength. He refused to admit anyone into his home, even his best friend. He simply didn't want anyone to see him like that.
In much the same manner, Ripkin didn't want to see Murphy like that. In his mind, Murphy was the strongest guy he had ever met. Murphy without energy was like nothing that he could ever understand. It wasn't possible to him.
The day that Murphy died was the day that Ripkin left. He donned Murphy's armor and brought his hand axe along with him. It was time to make Murphy's dream come true. To immortalize him. He may not become the world's greatest warrior, like he envisioned, but when Ripkin ascended to that position, he would praise Murphy as the greatest blacksmith in the world.
And that would have to be enough.
Well, things have not been going well for Ripkin. First he was abducted by a bunch of bumbling elf hybrids. Then he's freed only to get into the company of a small child, a demon, and an Imp that eats Elves (or so it seems).
Now, apparently, there is a Troll (or Orc) Druid that wishes to enlist Ripkin's help in destroying a town. Ripkin realized that this was exactly what he needed to become famous... The heroes might fade into legend, but the Villain will be feared, perhaps forever. Especially if he remains undefeated... Yes... This would be perfect for Ripkin's "Career," but... he declined.
Instead he headed for Akara. He did not know what it was to be a killer... Not yet. He had to practice. To learn. To first kill things that have the semblance of being human, then move on to the genuine article...
His training was fruitful, and killing masses of the undead steeled his nerves to killing living beings. He worked diligently from then on, wandering and killing. His calling card was left at the scene of every murder, a seed planted in a slashed throat.
Whilst running from the last murder he committed, he ran into Xervicx, an otherworlder he had met during his time in Akara. He bared a strong resemblance to a vampire, yet was more akin to a demon. He was starving and dehydrated, and Ripkin gave him aid. Now, They are headed towards civilization...
Who knows what's going to happen next?
* The RaaviDescription:
The Raavi are a race of humanoids to which Ripkin belongs. They seem like regular humans, but they have some slight differences. They have rather odd colors of hair, mostly greens and reds, and occasionally blue. Their skin has a slightly yellowish tinge to them, being similar in appearance to humans with a liver ailment.
Some have theorized that the Raavi were created in the same manner as the other mystical races, but instead of simply coming into being, merged with plants, leading to the strange colorations. It would also explain the Raavi's instictual respect for Mother Earth, as each plant would be almost like kin.Advantages:
The Raavi have come to be more intellectual and mentally powerful due to their physical weakness. With that in mind, they often learn to wield magic at a much younger age, so they would have more control. This may not come into play often, but it simply increases their magical accuracy a little bit.
Those who do not become true mages make specialized items for use by the Raavi. There is no real difference in effectiveness of the items, but they are magically altered to suit the Raavi and make up for their disadvantages.
It has been theorized that the Raavi are actually a plant-hybrid people, explaining their appearance in the trees, as well as their ability to draw energy from the plants. Therefore, it has also been posited that under the correct conditions, and given enough time outside of the trees, that a Raavi could use photosynthesis for it's power.Disadvantages:
The Raavi bodies do not adapt to their lifestyle and environment. They do not tan, they do not become physically stronger after a certain point, and their bodies do not produce scar tissue. In essence, they are relatively weak in body and cannot become stronger unless they are reinforced by technology or magic. Because of this, their bodies do not benefit from working out or any sort of physical training unless it is surgical or magical in nature. In addition, it has been proven that when they are injured, they can only be healed by magic, leading them to either become mages, or wear strong armor.Culture:
The Raavi are philosophers, druids, and white mages of some of the highest caliber. They are more often than not non-combative in nature, instead being withdrawn and neutral so that they will be relatively safe. Years and years of this practice have made the Raavi slowly migrate further and further out of the eyes of the other races.
To further protect their peaceful way of life, they proceeded to hide away for years, and after all of the years, there are few people who even know of their existence. The ones, who do have any knowledge of the Raavi, believe they had perished long ago, leaving little to nothing behind.
In reality, the Raavi have come to obtain a symbiotic relationship with the great trees that inhabit Redemption. The largest of the trees are hollowed out enough for entire colonies to live. Because of the large size of the trees, it is possible to not only have a large, ground level colony, but also several more stacked above safely. Thanks to work by both the druids, whose understanding of the nature of plants lets these colonies be crafted without lasting harm to the tree, and the efforts of the mages to whom the duty of actually hollowing out the tree rested upon, the Raavi were always well protected and well provided for.
This life leads most Raavi to be lazy, and apathetic about the outside world. The trees provide protection for the Raavi, so there was no longer any need to fight, and with all the food being raised and cultivated within the trees (must like how the Roft farmers used the branches for their crops), there is little to no reason to leave the safety of the trees.
However, some of the Raavi are more driven and adventurous than this, either learning magic or constructing some sorts of great armor to protect themselves with, and leaving their families behind. None have ever returned.
Faith in higher powers is a concept that is lost of the Raavi. Their intellectual pursuits have led them to believe that there could not possibly be a being akin to a god or goddess, unless it was simply a mortal being who had come to possess incredible power (a trait that is more like a demon’s power to the peace-loving Raavi), therefore, the Raavi do not praise any deities like most other cultures.
Trees are very symbolic for the Raavi, and some even regard them as protectors (although these Raavi were often the less educated among them, nearly revering them as gods) and as such%2