Curse

striderkaaru · Jun 03, 2006, 09:12 PM // 21:12

His deep eyes gazed off into the distance, overlooking the scorched and ravaged land that had been a battlefield for the past few days. Perched atop a large rock by the hillside near their encampment, Kaaru took a moment to remove himself from the devastation before him. He closed his eyes and breathed in the fresh morning air.

With a concentrated thought, he opened his right hand and a beam of light extended from his palm. He clenched at the light, and the tip extended into wing-like appendages. He opened his eyes to marvel at the beauty he held in his hand. It was an object of light shaped in the form of a double-bladed axe. It felt as solid as any other weapon he had ever held, but it was as light as a feather. The axe emanated a soft red hue, and its undulating glow pulsed as if one with his heartbeat. It was called a Chaos Axe, and it was a weapon sought after by many warriors and found only in the desolate and godforsaken fields of the Fissure of Woe. However, Kaaru treasured it not for its value, but for the memories it held.

His thoughts turned from the war he currently found himself in to his past, the past that brought him to where he was now.

Since his youth, he was trained as a Strider, warriors renowned for their skills and fighting prowess. He was trained in battle and in other arts as well, helping to shape him as a balanced individual. Despite his impulsiveness and general disdain for organization and authority, his determination and raw skill allowed him to pass his training and join the ranks as one of the youngest to achieve the status of Class-S Strider. Internal corruption had since destroyed the organization, and the remaining Striders who were still loyal to the original values each went their separate ways.

He then became an agent of the Black Hand, an underground organization that was involved in almost all aspects of society and was secretly responsible for many influential events. He had fond memories of his tenure at the Black Hand, and he thought of his adventures and the people he had met. Familiar faces flashed in his mind of friends past and present: Tunny, Sloth, Mumorpigah, Nak, his own brother Kay, Wan, Circe, Juhanah, Tides, Lia, and many more.

“Kaaru…”

His thoughts then wandered off to his brief involvement with the esteemed Lady Blue Steel and her companions. He had heard less of her since she started her academy, but he stayed in touch with Nakora, one of Blue’s earliest students.

“Kaaru…”

He let his mind wander, and he soon found himself thinking of his Hime. Hers was a face he longed to see agai…

“STRIDER!”

The sharp voice jerked him back to reality. He turned his head towards the encampment and beheld the stern figure of Racthoh Demini approaching him.

“Cease your day-dreaming, boy, and make yourself useful!”

Kaaru opened his palm and the glowing axe he held vanished into thin air. He grabbed the armored helm that lay beside him and alighted gracefully onto the ground. He turned to face his leader and saluted.

“Fine morning for a walk, isn’t it?” Kaaru let out with a cheerful smile.

“It’s a fine morning to slay our enemies,” he retorted. “Word has come in from the Western front. There has been significant movement in the enemy ranks. I need you to take your squad and fortify our position by the river crossing immediately!”

“Aye, my lord.”

Racthoh eyed Kaaru with a chilling gaze.

“Nothing passes,” he commanded.

Kaaru let out a proud smirk. “You have my word.”

Despite the bulky armor he was wearing, Kaaru sped nimbly down the hill towards the encampment.

“Finally…,” he thought to himself.

Kaaru wasn’t one to normally take orders like that, but he had finally met a man worthy of following.

He had finally found allies to call family.

He had finally found a guild to call home.

Beorn Drake · Jun 03, 2006, 09:24 PM // 21:24

Momiji.JPG
Momiji, like many assassins, got off to a rough start. Unsure of his place in the world, Momiji spent the majority of the time after his induction into the Shing Jea Monastery face down in the dirt wondering what hit him, like so many of the victims of his wrath now ponder. Momiji quickly learned that the keys to a successful career, and therefore a long life, were found in the speed and precision that only the mastery of his art allowed. With a hesitant over familiarity with death, Momiji now dispatches of his enemies with the precision and grace of death itself. Now, as a dedicated leader of the Alliance of the Old Gods and a proven friend to the Kurzicks, he and his allies currently seek to destroy Shiro Tagachi and the viscous plague that threatens his homeland.

sgtclarity · Jun 03, 2006, 10:57 PM // 22:57

Finally finished mine

richie_ritualist · Jun 04, 2006, 06:35 AM // 06:35

Lauwe N · Jun 04, 2006, 11:14 AM // 11:14

Here's mine, a simple one...

Storm Crow · Jun 04, 2006, 02:25 PM // 14:25

I'd like to extend an awesome job to Trub and Racthoh on their excellent works! Good luck to you all, though!

I'm adding a second bio (is that allowed? whatever…) this one is of my Warrior:

The walls were blackened by the blood of her comrades, and were closing in on her all the time. Air became thin as the last bit of oxygen was depleted by her panicked breathing. Blood of ones who had fallen before her party was lying fallow beneath her feet, and was rising rapidly. It came to her knees, then her waist, and finally her chin, as she gasped desperately for the air that was no longer available in the small, bloodstained chamber that was her dreams.

She awoke with a start, to find her blade clutched tightly in her hand. She was thankful that she had survived another night alone in the Charr-ridden lands of Ascalon. She had been split from her vanguard when the first of the crystalline meteors fell from the skies of her homeland. She packed up what little supplies she had, and walked on, hoping today to find a reasonable place to stay.

She had been on a patrol with the rest of her unit that had been split into guards, and was far north of what had been the Great Wall. Upon the cataclysm that was Ascalon’s Searing, she had been setting up the camp where her vanguard would stay for the night. The rest of her patrol was off setting blockades and gathering supplies for the weeks of travel ahead.

Now she only hoped to find shelter at the Academy where she had studied long before the Searing, and the destruction of her home. She figured that she was not far, judging by her map of the Old Ascalon, maybe another hour’s walk or so. She sighed, and pulled her rucksack a little further up her shoulder, deciding to get rid of what little she had once she found the Academy.

Upon coming to the bluff overlooking what had been the Grand Nolani Academy, she was grateful that she now had a sheltered place to stay for the next few weeks, without worrying of the Charr, but saddened, for her Academy had been destroyed, and crumbled to pieces of rubble. It was then that she noticed a small column of smoke rising from the old Academy, and ran toward it as fast as she could.

Halfway there, she saw a small Charr warband, of about four beasts, and she ran even faster. Upon coming to where she had seen the warband, she saw naught but a smoldering pile of ash, fur, and armor. A small snicker came from above her, beyond the doors that still stood. She looked up only too late, but then the doors swung open, nearly knocking her over. An Elementalist stood in the doorway, looking at her with bright green eyes.

“You’re figured for dead, too, aren’t you?” She asked, beckoning the Warrior in.

“Yes…But, who are you?” Garria asked, putting her things down as the doors swung shut behind her.

“I was a student here when the Searing hit a few days back. There was mass chaos here at the Academy, and everyone who hadn’t evacuated in time was assumed to be dead. You’re also assumed dead, as the rest of your unit is. I am Alicia, Alicia Stormcrow. I’m here to help you, if you’ll help me.”

shivanSoule · Jun 04, 2006, 06:00 PM // 18:00

Ristaron · Jun 04, 2006, 08:12 PM // 20:12

I feel like I can improve my character's bio, so I am going to add a little exerpt of her travels.

Quote:

Originally Posted by Ristaron

Arial Fertuna

Please excuse if the yellow is hard to read, I couldn't find a font that was otherwise useable.

The beating of the waves on the thick wooden hull was just the rhythm the impatient elementalist needed if she was to survive the wait. They had been sailing for several days now, and there was still no sign of the majestic shores of her homeland.
"We are still on a direct course", the captain kept confirming. Arial could not help but believe the way he checked using the sun with his instrument. Maybe that was what irritated her the most: how it wasn't the ship that seemed off, but the rest of the world.
"We should be seeing something by now", she growled at the vast azure plain. The countless sparkles on the innumerable waves, which had at one time dazzled her, passed by without admiration as the homesick Orrian gripped the wooden railing in anticipation of catching a glimpse of her nation.
But no glimpse came.
The sun was setting, creating a magnificent prospect of gold and orange against silver clouds. Arial was like a ghost at the bow of the schooner, her light linen half-coat stirred into a gentle sway by the calm seabreeze.

"You should eat something". Arial's emerald eyes turned to watch Captain Ulian join her, leaning on his forearms against the wooden railing. Even with his arched back he still stood taller than she did.
"I'm not hungry", Arial replied flatly. It was a lie. She was famished, but the concept of eating seemed foreign to her with the absence of her homeland hanging over her head.
"Orr isn't going anywhere", the captain pushed, "whether we find it now or after supper, it makes no difference other than you having eaten".
The logic in his words didn't convince the stubborn young woman.
"Suit yourself", the man conceited, and turned to leave.
He sighed when she did not follow.

As Ulian reached the door to the lower decks, he was knocked to the deck by a sudden jolt. Landing roughly, he didn't need to hear the grinding to feel through the wooden hull that the bottom of the ship was scraping something beaneath the surface.
"Bring us to a halt!" he roared up to the wheel, "drop anchor! Find out what the hell we're on!"
The captain paused, feeling a greater amount of weightlessness than usual. The sensation was quickly replaced with a heightened pull of gravity as the ship was lifted. Rushing to the railing, he scanned the azure waters for any sign of activity beneath the surface. Something was pushing them up.
Ulian's confusion turned to bafflement as he noticed the waves also rising with the ship, as if glued to the wood. A new current began, forming a slight whirlpool around the pillar of water that was now holding them up.
Ulian, in his twenty years of sailing, had never seen such a phenomenon before. His gray eyes darted to and fro, searching for an explanation.
He could have slapped himself when he saw the answer, and how obvious it was.
Arial stood at the bow, her arms raised at her sides. Holding up the ship with a watery palm.
The crew erupted from the lower deck and stopped abruptly. The seasoned sailors needed no indications to notice that something was amiss, and wasted no time rushing to the railing to see for themselves the awesome power of an elementalist.
A lurch caught the crew by surprise, and they all quickly found something to hold on to as they watched more water rise behind the ship. When it was at an appropriate level, the ocean pedestal they were currently balanced upon tilted backwards to transfer the schooner. They were moved back a fair distance in this fashion, and then lowered. The strain of controlling the tons of water had gotten to Arial, and the landing itself was a little rough.
Captain Ulian wasn't complaining, it was better than losing the bottom of his ship.

Arial stumbled as she released her hold on the water, such a feat required more than a fair bit of concentration and energy. Exhausted, the elementalist didn't refuse the helping hands that lifted her to her feet.
"What did we run on?" Ulian inquired the crew, "we've done this route dozens of times and never hit anything".
"No", Arial voiced, attracting all eyes. "No, you haven't done this route".
Before an explanation could be begged, Arial turned to look South once again and reached out with one arm. She was trembling still from the last great feat, but the fiery young woman had plenty more spirit to go around.
And she had an amazing relic enclosed in her other hand.
Closing her eyes for a moment to get her bearings once more, she extended her slender fingers and spread them.
The crew watched in amazement as the waters before them parted, forming a rift just deep enough for them to clearly see what had once been a beacon of naval achievement in Tyria. Though waterwashed and slightly ruined, it was still easily identifiable.
The Orrian Harbour.

"Orr isn't going anywhere", Arial whispered.

Shadowfox1125 · Jun 04, 2006, 09:43 PM // 21:43

Here's mine.. it would have been better, but I'm studing for finals..

Heh, same bio for Riplox's webcomic..

Dmc1281 · Jun 05, 2006, 12:28 AM // 00:28

Some of the bios are really good.

I like how most of the ones I see, put the bio in the pic itself.

I've been working on my Bio and I did submit it already, but the ones I've read are amazing.

Good Work everyone.

Ellipson · Jun 05, 2006, 01:09 AM // 01:09

Here's mine. Nothing too fancy.

RobberBride · Jun 05, 2006, 02:59 AM // 02:59

priabirch · Jun 05, 2006, 04:56 AM // 04:56

Wrath Of Dragons · Jun 05, 2006, 08:14 AM // 08:14

I never entered this, although I had a lot of fun. I didnt want to insult the artist if it was chosen. A warning--My bio is terribly long

Special thanks to Mesmer Silly for being "teh l33t pwnzor mesmer"
Fu Masa, the warrior in these screenshots, id normally a W/N. I have never played Wammo, so Everything i worte is things i'v seen/heard.

I, Wammo

So, they call me a "Tank". I guess that means I do a lot of damage, because real tanks do.
With healing hands and mending on myself, I become very powerful, because whan things
hit me, I just heal myself. My equipment is the best in the game. I see all those n00bs
running around, with their dumb sticks or uncool, plain swords, and I just laugh! My sword
does ICE damage, far superiour to anything else, and it looks way cooler, too. Im fairly
certain the way the icy blade glows, it has to do extra damage that normal swords don't.
Sometimes, I switch to an orange blade like mighty Prince Rurik uses. Someday, I will be
cool like him, except when I die, I will just heal, because I will put mending on before
battle. Aside from mending, my next favorite skill is frenzy. Ahhh, how godly I feel,
attacking so fast. With only 2 or 3 monks backing me up, I can tank anything, and kill it
extra fast too!
As for who I am allied too, I would have to definitely say Balthazar. He is by far the coolest
god, and far superiour to those Luxxon or Kurzik pansies. Infact, I have ten THOUSAND experience
with Balthazar, so Im about to level up! Im going to be so much better, its scary. I bet that
how those guys with the glowing deer and tiger heads got them! Soon, I will be running around
shouting things like "I will Avenge You" and flashing my cool new level to everyone! So, I will
keep trying to level up in the random arenas, where i PWN everyone, because they're all n00bs!
Infact, sometimes Im so much better then my team, I just stand back and watch. When they realize
how bad they suck and try to blame me, I will put on "Charge" and run around the arena, yelling
things like "n00bzorz!" and "Im teh l337ness!" and the best one, "Heal me!"
(because they dont need to! I have mending, so they will realize I actually dont need healing,
because im that uber) Of course, they will all beome jealous of me, and some will even quit, just
to get out of my skilled presence. Ahh, its good to be the best.
I outgrew my guild long ago. Im not sad. They were all n00bs anyway. I would do my best to
bring all the monsters right to them, turn on frenzy, and start killing, but they wouldnt accept
that I was helping. Instead they refused to heal ME! the TANK! and said "Stupid aggroing wammo".
Whats an aggro, anyway? Well, I left them on rather unpleasent terms, but I await the day I level up
in Balthazar, and they all decide they want me back. I just need to level up first. Dam, this is
taking a while.
Well all, back to the arenas with me!

~Wammo

If you are easily saddened, and a warrior/monk, dont read this.
If you are a monk, pity me and my L337 people
If you are a ranger, I hope your pet dies
If you are an elementalist, its YOUR fault you got in the way
of the monsters I brought over.
If you are a mesmer, I will soon be thinking WTF!
If you are a necro, I wont stop attacking, and maybe even put
on frenzy so the hex goes away faster.
If you are a warrior and I am hurt, please stop attacking me while
I use healing signet. For some reason, frenzy doesnt make it go faster, but
I will keep trying untill I figure out what Im doing wrong.
If you are an assassin,"WTF! You use frenzy too? No fair!"
If you are a Ritualist, I will keep your spirits dead, just to keep you distracted.

the end

Arcanis the Omnipotent · Jun 05, 2006, 02:14 PM // 14:14

The story is rather long, so I had to put it in a seperate image. Otherwise you wouldnt have seen the character very well at all.

winter_kiss · Jun 05, 2006, 02:58 PM // 14:58

Wait a second! it says two different e-mails in the contest rules, one is [email protected] but late on it says to submit to [email protected]. I sent mine to the contest one, should I resend it to the webmaster one?

RinkXing · Jun 05, 2006, 05:13 PM // 17:13

Haha, I love Wrath Of Dragons.

Speeder · Jun 05, 2006, 08:03 PM // 20:03

Hi everyone, here's mine:

Sorry for my English, but I'm not the best with it

buddhakl · Jun 05, 2006, 09:17 PM // 21:17

Went for multiple views/weapons for more detail for the artist. Not so pretty for the forums, but functional. Here goes.

Storm Crow · Jun 06, 2006, 12:48 AM // 00:48

Quote:

Originally Posted by Speeder

Hi everyone, here's mine:

Sorry for my English, but I'm not the best with it

Your English is fine, and probably better than some Americans. No need for a sad smiley