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Sins of the Flesh [R]


*Note that this is a mature/R-rated RPG.

Sins of the Flesh

In the lower realms known as The Six Concentric Hells, a sextet of demon kings has reigned since the dawn of time and will continue to hold their cruel dominions forevermore. Their rule is not uncontested, however, and wars are commonplace, almost never-ending. Infernal monarchs are cast out and slain, bled into the pages of history and burned into ash so fine not even memory can keep them. Still, there are always six. A short time ago, the greatest of these six was the Grand Duke Azerchondreandus, whose power had grown so great that it drew the squabbling attentions of the other five demon lords. Azerchondreandus’s armies had grown limitless, his minions spawned at rates unprecedented in demonic history. His soul bounty was harvested from endless planes, giving him access to unthinkable power. His majesty and might was culminated into a fortress unlike the Six Hells had ever seen. Miles tall, the Spire of Azordecai towered above everything in any of the Concentrics. The entire structure, composed of pure soul energy solidified through unimaginable pressure and heat into Azerchondreandus’s own creation of soulsteel, pulsed with his own power, an extension of himself, a material figment of his existence. The Spire held many powers of its own, manipulations of Azerchondreandus’s abilities, and it soon became regarded as the true demon king though it was still subservient to Azerchondreandus’s will. The Spire was seen as the true threat, and indeed due to Azerchondreandus’s increased paranoia and subsequent tendency to hold himself within his grand keep, destroying it was the only way to destroy its creator.

In response to Azerchondreandus’s acquisition of apparently limitless power, the remaining five demon kings ceased their own wars and allied with one another, an act never before seen in the lower realms. All of the demon lords brought their armies to Azerchondreandus’s Concentric and the most catastrophic war ever seen in the realms was waged. Azerchondreandus’s hordes were endless, led by capable generals and armed with soulsteel weapons spawned from the Spire itself. The other five demon kings fought valiantly, gaining some small advantage by actually being present on the battlefield, making them the strongest beings fighting directly in the chaos. Azerchondreandus hid in the labyrinthine monolith that was his own extension, his fear and paranoia having bested him. He did, however, channel his power through the tower to deliver devastation to his enemies. Infernal magic exploded from its walls and animate weapons defended the structure. The battle roared for four hundred years in infernal time before any signs of slowing were evident. Azerchondreandus’s power was thinning his enemies and two of the rival demon kings had already been slain. It was in this four hundredth year of battle that the strongest of the remaining demon kings, Ireskarrane, took ultimate control of the remaining forces. He ordered all demons to attack the tower en masse and pay no attention to enemies. The mass of fiends charged, plowing through all who stood in their path, enemies caught completely off guard by the sudden suicidal tactic. Soon after, the tower was nearly covered in a swarm of demons who savaged the tower with weapon and spell alike. Defending demons amassed around them, striking them down. In the confusion, Ireskarrane retrieved the corpses of the two dead demon kings and began a ritual to end the battle once and for all. He assigned each of the dead demons to one of the living, and they channeled almost all of their soul energy into the corpses, returning them to life for a fraction of a second. During that infinitesimal moment of time, Ireskarrane killed them under the dictations of the ritual and imbibed all of their power, effectively making him as strong as Azerchondreandus. The power granted by this forbidden ritual would last only for a few moments and it would then consume Ireskarrane. And so he began his final actions. He charged the Spire and lesser demons were simply blown away by the sheer radiation of his power. He blasted a hole in the tower and entered, located Azerchondreandus by sensing his power, and fought him. In all of his years hiding in safety, Azerchondreandus’s direct combat prowess had waned. Ireskarrane slew him and was destroyed by the energy which he had assimilated.

Azerchondreandus fell and the entire Spire began to shake with such magnitude that the entire Concentric trembled. As it began to fall apart, its creator and source slain, the mass amount of soul energy began pulling in all of the soulsteel into a nucleic core, effectively an implosion. Many demons were sucked into the core as well and disintegrated into it, their soul energy feeding the unstoppable reaction. The remaining two demon lords escaped the scene and were the only kings to survive the battle. After hours of chaotic implosion, all was quiet. The grand core of soul energy hovered in the first Concentric, crackling with all of its unbridled power. This silence lasted only a moment, however, as the reaction became unable to sustain itself and exploded. The very condensed center of countless measurements of energy erupted in the grandest display ever witnessed in any realm. The other five Concentrics felt the wrath of the explosion and shook violently for days, even through their separation of space and time. All of the fragments of soulsteel which had hovered around the central core were propelled at speeds unthinkable, so fast that they literally carved through the planar fabric. These fragments crossed the planar boundaries and entered other realms. The Mortal realm.

Unknowing humans came into contact with these fragments. The energy required to rip through planar fabric was so immense that the fragments were dramatically slowed and automatically honed in on new sources of soul energy, and when they crossed over into the Mortal realm, they found their hosts in human beings. With speeds akin to bullets from a gun, these fragments embedded themselves in human bodies. The initial entries were very painful, but after a few seconds all sense of pain were gone. The fragments, known now as soul shards, formed symbiotic links with their new hosts. These shards were imbued with condensed traces of demonic energy from both the assimilation of demonic forces during the implosion and from Azerchondreandus’s own self. And so these shards corrupted their new hosts and gave them inhuman abilities, tastes of demonic power and magic. That was fifty years ago in human time. The shards made the world a much more dangerous place.

Those attacked by the soul shards were first seen as victims of some sort of government testing until they were revealed to be everywhere in the world. There was no concentration of them, no logical dispersion. Within a year, these shard-embedded humans became fully known to the public and countermeasures began to rise up against them. Many of the subjects were corrupted mentally by the shards, demonic influence changing their personalities. They became more aggressive and selfish, hateful and evil. They were soon regarded wholly as murderous and criminal anomalies. Their power, however, allowed them to entertain their new whims. Many of the subjects became killers and criminals, for pleasure or for gain. Some were brutish mongrels who rampaged through cities, others viciously intelligent and criminal masterminds. Some even had their identities completely erased and taken over by particularly strong soul shards that still contained demonic personas.

As time progressed and the soul shards were powered by the soul energy of their hosts, they in turn granted more powers to them. Superhuman strength and speed, mind control, manipulation and creation of matter, demonic vestiges, and other features began to manifest themselves within the subjects. Still, their origin was a mystery. It was not until certain cults around the world came into contact with the soul shards did an answer come. Human cultists who were marked with a soul shard, or those who otherwise came across one, found that their ever-failing attempts to tap into their dark mortal desires and conspire with demons finally worked. Through their blasphemy, the solution was understood, as demons conjured from the Six Concentrics explained the great war and its aftermath. From then on, those marked with soul shards became known as Helltouched. And as their powers grew, humanity stood little chance. Governments and economies collapsed quickly as these demonic spawn determined the outcome of wars and destroyed political infrastructure.

Humans responded, though, with their famous adaptability. Scientists and weapons experts worked on new ways to combat this threat, and one cooperative organization rose from the fragments of old governments to focus on directly dealing with the Helltouched. Known as the Security of Earth’s Races Against Planar Hostility, or SERAPH, the organization became the world’s international governmental force and converted any remaining world military into the organization’s own forces, known as Angels. Trained and outfitted with new combat technology, they were deployed with the goals of protecting humanity and destroying the Helltouched menace. A task that persists to this day.

It is the year 2083 and the world has embraced a dystopic identity. Though blessed with numerous new technologies, most of the human race live low lives in the shells of once-great cities. Nearly all populated areas are police states under jurisdiction of SERAPH and its Angels, which is an ever growing group. It has been fifty years since the outbreak of the Helltouched and there is no end in sight. Studies estimate that the Helltouched number in the millions but still represent a very small percentage of the human race, which totals now at about four billion. Still, with each Helltouched wielding such powers, numbers become much less important. The Angels are numerous and well trained and ever-growing, but they still have been unable to put any noticeable dent in the Helltouched population.

The Helltouched themselves have responded to the human counteractions by forming organizations of their own. Mostly these groups are loose tribes that fight together, but larger-scale intelligent, self-sustaining organizations do exist. Many Helltouched, cursed with the aggression and in-fighting tendencies of demons, fight one another on sight, but that is not always the case. It is commonly known that two Helltouched can either make the deadliest of enemies or the strongest of allies. Indeed, allied groups of Helltouched, though prone to fighting other groups, pose a nigh-indomitable threat to SERAPH and the rest of mankind. There are some Helltouched, however, that fight for humanity. It is uncommon but not unheard of for particularly strong-willed humans to remain in control of their identity and personalities and still gain the powers of the soul shard. These beings are accepted into humanity but often distrusted and scrutinized until they prove themselves.

Helltouched that are bested by SERAPH are taken to their world headquarters on Iceland for disposal or study. Crystals become dormant when the host is dead and can be removed and destroyed. If the host is alive, however, crystals are nearly impossible to separate and are virtually indestructible. Studies have recently began to see the effects the soul shards have on reproduction. Unlike real demons, Helltouched retain much of their human anatomy and are generally capable of procreation. Whether offspring will exhibit traits of the Helltouched parent is yet to be determined. It is known, though, that because of a Helltouched’s greatly increased lifespan, they are capable of reproducing well beyond the age of regular humans.

And still, humanity must always worry about itself, ever its own enemy. SERAPH protects the race, but it does its fair share of harm. Widely spread are the tales of sycophantic and profane experimentation deep within the headquarters of mankind’s protectors. Furthermore, hard times bring about hard relations, and even with the ever present menace of the Helltouched, humans fight and kill and steal from one another. The world is in chaos, and regardless of a soul shard, there is a demon in the heart of every man.


There you have it. I think I explained everything fully enough to elicit understanding of the world and how things work but if there are any questions, feel free to ask. I may have gone a tad overboard on the back story but I felt that it was needed and, well, I admittedly got a bit carried away. In the RPG you may play either a human or a Helltouched. Generally human characters will be a part of SERAPH or independent hunter-type characters (unless you really want to play your average city-dwelling humdrum Joe somebody, in which case I will not stop you). As a Helltouched you can be independent, part of an organization, or a member of SERAPH fighting against your cursed kind.

As stated in the plot, Helltouched are humans who have come in contact with a broken fragment of a destroyed demon kings fortress. These shards embedded themselves into millions of humans when they tore into the Mortal realm and are essentially a part of the person. They have a symbiotic relationship with the host and feed off of the host’s life and soul energy while in turn converting some of that energy into inhuman powers which the host can utilize. Some soul shards did not find their way to human hosts, however. Some are lost, buried into mountainsides or into the ocean floor, or even beneath the earth’s crust. Humans that come across the shards can be implanted with them, but this is uncommon, and most (95%) of the Helltouched are products of the initial ‘shard storm.’ However, some animals were implanted with shards as well, when the shards could find no human host. Due to animals’ lack of sentience and true free will, they are merely stronger versions of their kind, unable to manifest any powers but are tougher and more aggressive than other examples of their species. This is just to keep in mind for encounters and such during the game.
Let’s see…Anything else? Ah yes, Helltouched may exhibit demonic appearance in slight forms, though none of them look wholly infernal. They may have slight skin pigmentation, claw-like hands, a forked tongue, a tail, or horns, but as they are only imbued with trace amounts of demonic power, nothing too over the top. If you wish to have wings, it will take up the spot of your passive power (see below in the sign up form).

Also, as for the world, human population is still concentrated in major cities of today (London, Tokyo, New York, Paris, et cetera), though these cities are generally shells of their former selves. Most small towns are abandoned or populated by Helltouched. Cities are police states run by SERAPH and their Angel forces, and humans generally a low-living people prone to vice and such. I would class this RPG in the cyberpunk genre so if you are familiar with it, you know what I mean.

Sign Up Sheet: I do my best to briefly explain the fields to make things easier. Still, as said, any questions, please ask. I will accept only well-thought out and developed forms without an abundance of spelling and grammatical mistakes. Once again, this is a mature RPG for mature roleplayers and will include violence, profanity, and other suggestive themes, and as per the rules, evading the swear filter will be allowed.

Age: Helltouched have enhanced life spans. As the shard storm occurred fifty years before the time of the game, you could have been any age. Helltouched stop physically aging at about 25 (or physically age no further if they were corrupted beyond that age). Most helltouched are at least 55. Humans I’d ask be at least 16, as that is the age that cadets are allowed into the Angels.
Species: Human or Helltouched. You cannot play an actual demon, but if you wish, you may play a human whose identity has been usurped by a demonic persona existent in a soul shard. This is a rare occurrence but not unheard of. In this case you will have a more demonic name and personality and most of the demon’s memories, but will not be any more powerful than any other Helltouched (though you might be more familiar with the powers and therefore know how to use them more efficiently).
Nationality: Speaks for itself. Though political and geographical boundaries as we know them are changed in this game, general nationality features (accents, appearance, et cetera), still persist. Helltouched may be corrupted mentally and/or physically, but they were human once.
Description: I expect detail. Provide a picture if you wish, but do not think that it will serve as a replacement for a well-thought out description entry.
Personality: Though influenced by demonic tendencies, Helltouched are still mostly human and therefore can have a wide range of emotions. They do tend to be more aggressive and selfish and willing to cause harm, however.
History: As a Helltouched, your history begins before the shard storm. Summarize your life up to that point, your event of contact with a soul shard, and your life post-corruption. Most human characters would have been born after the shard storm, so remember that you are growing up in a dystopic world with fallen governments, high technology, low-life quality, danger, et cetera.
Organization (If Applicable): SERAPH, a Helltouched tribe, a human hunting group, et cetera. You do not have to be a part of an organization.
Equipment: Your gear. You can use ancient weapons or modern ones (that is, swords and axes to guns and such), but I will ask that no laser-weapon technology be used.
Other: Anything else you need to mention.

Additional Fields for Helltouched

Powers: Helltouched have the ability to manifest powers, which can occur as passive traits, such as superhuman strength and endurance, or activated abilities, such as creating fire or summoning a swam of insects. I will allow players to create their powers, but I will eye them very carefully and will tell anyone who makes anything too powerful to change them. New powers will be available as the RPG progresses. At this point, I will limit Helltouched characters to two activated powers and one passive power. Keep in mind that using activated powers consumes energy and excessive utilization can result in fatigue and even unconsciousness. Passive powers have no detrimental effect and are always active.

Location of Shard: This is mainly a character customization feature… where on your body is your soul shard located? Generally, they are visible and partially protruding out of the body, and range from grape-size to fist-size. If you wish, you may have your soul shard be completely within your body. Otherwise, state where it is. Many Helltouched have pride in their shards and decorate the flesh around the protruding fragment with tattoos and such.

Required Field for All Characters

Sample: Include a sample RPG post featuring your character. This can be a daily event (out on the hunt, working for your organization, terrorizing humanity, whatever), or, for Helltouched, can be the event in which you bonded with your soul shard. Either way, don’t brush this off, it is an important field that will go a long way into your acceptance or rejection for this RPG. Also, don’t work hard on a sample post to get in and then slack off with your game posts. I generally look for experienced roleplayers for my RPGs and if you do not think you have what it takes, do not waste your time or mine.

I will reserve spots for people I know will make good. If I have never played with you before, I probably will not save a spot for you. If rejected, I will allow one chance to amend the character. After the second chance, rejection is rejection.
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Mimori Kiryu

Well-Known Member
I've never role played with you before Dias, but I have to say that this RP has completely blown me away. I'm really excited to make a character. I would say that I'd like to reserve, but I don't think you would reserve for me. ^^; So, just know I'm working on a character and I'm going to try to make it perfect. It's probably going to be the hardest signup I've ever done, but I'm totally going to give it a try.

And if this RP never gets up off the ground, you still need to take this idea into a novel. I'd totally read it all. :)


Well-Known Member
Name: Jonalai Lekraa (a.k.a. 'Kitten' or 'Jon')
Gender: Female
Age: 73
Species: Helltouched
Nationality: Egyptian father, American mother, USA
Description: Around 5' 5 1/2" in height, Kitten has a very athletic build. She worked outdoors for most of her life, and her light tan skin has been darkened by years in the sun. She is very lean, but well-muscled, as she has had to help in many construction projects and worked with horses on a regular basis. She has very fine features, including a straight chin and jawline, cat-like eyes, high cheekbones, and a finely sloped forehead and nose. She has a long, thin neck and limbs, but in no respects looks gangly. She usually keeps her mid-back length, light blonde hair in a hight ponytail and braid, and despite any personality traits keeps herself eerily clean. Her eyes, once a steel blue, have been changed to a dark blue-green. Her teeth have sharpened into fangs, and her nails are unnaturally sharp no matter what she does with them. She wears dark colors, namely a tight black tank or tube top and dark grey pants.

Personality: Even before coming in contact with the soul shard, Kitten was an aggressive person. She constantly got into fights with her neighbours and drinking mates, and instead of going shopping with other woman her age would go to parties and bars with a group of young men who saw her as 'just another one of the guys.' Kitten is quite mischievous and brutally honest or sarcastic, but she can be compassionate if someone is close enough to her. These traits haven't changed much, but she is much harder to approach and her temper is much shorter. Anyone who even attempts to get close to her often sees both the old, fun-loving human girl and the demonic hatred for humankind. Her human half treats humans with distaste and Helltouched with hatred, for one shuns and fears her while the other is the cause of her misery. The part of her that has been changed and remains dominant is aloof, treating all with a disgust and hatred that drives many away.

History: Kitten was born and raised in a small town in southern Arizona. She was born while her parents were unmarried, though they quickly made their love formal and legal. Kitten was raised with a love of animals, but understood the circle of life. She picked up the traits of many of her various strange pets, particularly a young mountain lion cub which she raised to maturity. Kitten got her nickname when she got into her first fight and left cat-like scratches and bites on the boy who she'd beaten up. She grew up with a young gang of boys who she worked with on a regular basis, and enjoyed beating them up, teasing them, and being just one of the guys. Kitten drank on a regular basis, though on no accounts was she an alcoholic, and learned how to hold her liquor as well as anyone else there.

Kitten was 23 when she came in contact with the soul shard, and happened to be playing with the mature mountain lion she'd raised. The feline was getting a little rougher than usual, and Kitten thought at first that the creature had attacked her when she felt a horrible, sharp pain centered next to her right shoulder blade. She began to scold the cat, but it fled from her. The young woman was confused about this, but shrugged it off and went home. The next morning, Kitten woke to find that she'd become leaner, her nails were sharp as knives, her teeth were more like fangs, and her eyes were not only a different color, but slit and cat-like as well. The other members of the community shunned her as another one of the freaks that had been popping up all over the world, and forced her out.

Kitten has been living on her own ever since, and the animals who once loved her have shunned her just as humans did. Kitten has worked as an assassin for either side, good or bad, depending on who offers her more, and regularly steals from rich and poor alike. Helltouched and Humans have fallen beneath her blades, and neither side is any better than the other in her mind.

Organization (If Applicable): N/A
Equipment: Kitten has only the clothes on her back, a cloak to use as a blanket or coat, several knives, a pair of twin blades, and a pendant which she's had since her birth. She carries a water bladder and a small pack of food with her, which she replentishes whenever she can.
Other: The pendant that she wears was given to her by her father, and he told her that it once belonged to an ancient Egyptian woman- the high priestess of Bastet, the cat goddess.

Passive- Heightened senses
Active- Kitten can transform into a serval, though this takes a lot of energy out of her. Only the transformation itself wears her out, and she usually must rest for several days before even attempting to change back.

Location of Shard: Kitten's shard is imbedded next to her right shoulder blade, and she has an intricate tattoo of a rose on her back with the shard as the center petal.


A young woman stayed hidden in the shadows, watching people walk up and down the streets. Her dark, blue-green eyes narrowed as she spotted the glitter of gold in an older man's pocket- an old pocket watch, perhaps. She entered the stream of people, slipping through the crowd until she reached the man. The young woman passed right by him, and she barely even noticed her own hand slipping into his pocket and pulling out the watch. She continued, swiftly and silently, and even if the man had detected the slight change in the weight of his coat, she was long gone before he could identify the thief. Kitten slipped back into the shadows, looking at the watch quietly. It was almost completely gold, and was in fair condition. She'd get a few dollars for it, at least.

Kitten slipped the watch into her pack, walking to the nearest pawn shop she could find. "Back from your fishing trip already, eh?" the man at the counter said.

"Hm..." Kitten smirked slightly, setting the watch on the counter. "How much?"

"I'd say..." the man peered at the watch, even listening to the tick-tock of the working gears. "Two hundred."

"I want four," Kitten said, shifting and holding out her hand expectantly. The man protested, but at a small glimmer of anger in her eyes, he quickly gave her the four hundred dollars she demanded. "Thank you..."

Kitten barely even said the words before she was gone once again, vanishing into the unsuspecting crowd of victims who were soon to die anyway.
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Apologies. I did not notice that you edited with the sign up. I'll accept your sign up, with a few notes. I take it from your sample and such that your character, not being overtly demonic in appearance or prone to random large-scale destruction, integrates to some degree with human society. While I didn't mention such in the plot, it is perfectly fine, though be aware that most humans are going to freak out or react violently to any exposure to a helltouched if they are discovered for what they are. I don't have a problem with her having business-type dealings with humans, as many people are depraved and sycophantic, especially in this world, but those types of people (who do not react with fear or violence) should be the exception and not the rule.

Also, if you do not mind, I'd like to see a bit more in the personality field in regards to her post-soul shard ways, especially how she reacts to/interacts with other helltouched and such. Flesh that out a bit and you're in.

Mimori Kiryu said:
And if this RP never gets up off the ground, you still need to take this idea into a novel. I'd totally read it all.

I've been entertaining the idea of converting aspects of the RPG into prose. Not exactly the same but based on it, at least.

Well, if anyone else expresses interest I'd like to get this underway as soon as possible. If not, well, it was worth a shot, I suppose. I have my form about halfway done and it should be up later today depending on how long I feel like sleeping.


Well-Known Member
Alright...I've edited a few details, not only in the personality department. I'm not too good at making profiles, but I'm a fair roleplayer... I hope what I've changed and added will make this better for you.

Tearen the Absol

Carpe Noctem
Name: Rend (Leo Bandaruk)

Age: 68

Species: Helltouched

Nationality: Russian, only mild accent

Description: Rend lives up to his name by his two most noticeable features. First off, his hands and fingers have grown larger than normal. They've become very dextrous, and his fingernails have disappeared, replaced only with sharp, tapered points (Think Venom hands.) Second, his teeth have grown to be predatory, all canine. His grin evokes the image of a shark preparing to bite. He is physically buff, and looks very muscular, especially in his legs and upper arms.

Rend wears a dark grey muscle shirt, which fits tightly against his body. It is ripped and torn slightly in certain places, but it is generally clean. He wears black jeans, which are in a similar state to his shirt. However, these jeans are more notably scuffed and beaten. He wears a necklace that has a large shark tooth attached to it, and it has been decorated with cryptic symbols.

Rend's eyes are human most of the time, colored green. When he uses his nightvision, however, they become slitted and dilate. His hair is dark brown, barely combed most of the time, but short enough that it doesn't really matter. He also has long, filled out side burns. His face is long, as his jaw extends more to accomadate his teeth. Otherwise, he has an average nose, whose bridge bends inwards towards his face slightly. He has a strong, medium height brow which is flat from a profile view. Rend's skin is tanned, but not amazingly so, and is pale where his shirt covers.

Personality: A majority of the time (day), Rend is rather docile for a Helltouched. He makes friends, as much as a Helltouched can, and creates works of art upon request of tribemates. He also likes to joke when he can, and they usually carry over as being pretty funny. At the same time, he is much more selfish as far as food goes, hording it and eating it ravenously. He is seen smiling most of the time, and among his tribe is considered to be an all around good guy (Which obviously disgusts some of the more infernal members...)

At night, Leo's demon manifests and controls his actions, turning him into a monster. He is spurred to go out and hunt and feed on innocent humans with his sharp teeth, savagely pulling them apart. But he has his fun first, sometimes stalking his quarry for hours, before finally closing in for the slow kill. After he slays and devours his target, he takes their bones back to his hut and crafts beautiful instruments and talismans out of them. This hunting is how he earned his name, as the inhabitants of his hunting grounds think of him as some shadow monster, ready to pounce at any moment. A sort of real life, hellish boogy man.

History: Leo was born and raised in Russia until he graduated from college and moved to America. He had inherited a fair ammount of money from his deceased grandparents, and was making a profitable living as a graphic artist for a popular chain of resteraunts. He also worked as an independent artist, painting beautiful oil pieces.

At the age of 27, a shard struck him while he was walking to a bar to meet his friends after a profitable business venture. Just as he was about to grab the handle to the door, a searing hot bolt of metal impaled his right hand. He had no idea where it came from, nor did he care, the pain was so intense. He went home immediatley and examined the metal. It protruded evenly through the top and bottom of his right hand, and he counted his lucky stars he was left handed. As he went home that night, he heard a whisper in his ear, telling him to get up. He felt compelled to obey, as the voice instructed to creep over to his neighbors apartment and devour their flesh. He watched in horror, but at the same time, satisfaction, as after he ate the last bite, his hands mutated into savage implements of tearing and ripping. His teeth grew into sharp canines, and he became the monster he is today.

Organization: Rend is a brother in the nomadic Pyre Tribe. They move across the north american continent (currently located outside of Pittsburgh), basically surviving and terrorizing any other civilization they encounter.

Equipment: Rend uses his teeth and claws as his primary weapons, but has sharpened his shard so that it can make nasty stabbing wounds.

Other: Rend refers to himself by his real name, but accepts his title as Rend. This goes for posting too, so I'll write his name as Leo when he speaks.


Passive - Rend's body has been augmented by his soul shard to be athletic and agile. This allows him to move across difficult terrain by jumping, crawling and climbing.

Active 1 - At night, and only at night, Rend can momentarily activate nightvision in especially dark areas. Any bright or concentrated light will blind him for hours, or even cause unconciousness.

Active 2 - Rend can use his shard's power to crawl along vertical or otherwise impassable areas. However, he cannot do this for more than two minutes, or risk temorary paralysis.

Location of Shard: Rend's shard is impaled through his right hand. It does not debilitate the hand, but he cannot use it to carry large items or anything of the like. He has sharpened the end jutting from his palm as a weapon, and adorned the top of his hand with a tattoo of a sharp toothed skull, positioned so that the shard protrudes from the mouth.


Leo sat in his hut, carving symbols into a long femur with a piece of scrap he found useful for inscribing. The dusky light trickled in through his loose tent flap. He laid down his styus and admired the bone, shining faintly in the poor light. He took up a brush, and laid out a vial of blue ink. He carefully traced his carvings with his brush, and smiled as the piece turned out to be exactly the way he wanted it. He heard the tent flap open.

"My god Rend, it wouldn't hurt to open yer flap would it? What're you working on now?" a voice called. Leo recognized it as the voice of Rose, the self named thorn demon. If anything, she was only a thorn in his side.

"I'm just inscribing another bone. Here, take a look." he said, all enthusiasm drained from his voice. The other helltouched picked up the bone and looked at it. A frown crawled across her face.

"Blue? What the hell Rend; what kind of hellish color is that?" she inquired. Leo sighed and turned around to face her.

"Hey, I happen to like the color blue you hag. Don't even worry, I wasn't planning on giving this one to anyone any way" he spat. Rose snarled and whipped out of the tent. Leo pursed his lips and sighed again. "Bah, it's about time I went outside any way..."

Leo squinted in the light of sunset, and looked around. The camp was docile, different helltouched hissing, arguing, and doing the usual everyday tribal life. He wandered over to the food hut, and the smell of fresh meat reached his nose.

"Well, now here's a face we don't see in here everyday." cackled the chef. He put down his butchers knife and faced Leo.

"Hey Snappy, how's it going?"

"Good, good. How you doin' Rend? Goin' huntin' tonight?" asked Snappy, resuming his chopping. Leo shrugged and eyed the dripping pieces of animal behind the chef. His mouth began to water, but a voice tickled his mind. No Leo, then you won't have any room for dinner. Leo gave a slight huff. He guessed he would just have some cold cuts for breakfast tommorow then. Cooked this time.

"So how's that piece of jewelry doing for your mate there Slappy? She like it?" Leo asked.

"Oh yeah, she loves it. And get this-" Snappy started to tell another story, but the low life (who was refered to as Low-Life) of the tribe wandered in. Snappy beat him to words. "Get your pygmy *** outta here ya moochin' runt!" Slappy snapped, brandishing his cleaver. Low-life just kept crawling in, eyeing all the delicious fruits and meats. Slappy nodded to Leo, who smiled viciously. He picked Low-Life up by the scruff of his neck, shook him, and tossed him outside. Leo exited the tent, and pinned the unfortunate Helltouched to the ground.

"You know you are not welcomed anywhere you piece of filth!" Leo spat. He held up his shard hand menacingly. "Go find some wild animal dung to chew on, now! Get!" Leo released the frightened and mortified Low-Life, who scampered off frantically. Two or three other members of the tribe laughed, most just shrugged and went back to their lives. Leo wandered back to his hut, and went to sleep, waiting for night to come.

As the moon began to rise, Leo began fidgeting in his hut. He felt the comforting embrace of night, stealth, creeping over the land. The voice whispered in his head. Yes Leo. Go hunt. Hunt for usssss. Leo chuckled faintly, his mind beginning to be controlled by the enigma in the shard. Slowly, he opened the tent flap, and strode out of the camp. Other helltouched eyed him with curiosity. It was a well known fact Leo hunted humans at night, and ate them. Just, all the other members of the tribe wanted to watch. Leo ended up in a low-end apartment complex, after taking a shortcut through the sewers.

Slowly, he cracked a grin, revealing his razor sharp canines, soon to be bloodied. He heard talking coming from a nearby alley. His clambered up a fire escape and moved along the flat roof top. The grimy lights of the city did not touch him, as he moved from shadow to shadow, moving closer to the voices. He peared over the edge of the building, and saw a small band of punks smoking and laughing. He waited for fifteen minutes until they dispersed. He targeted a vulnerable looking girl, who had to walk six blocks back to whatever dank hole she called home.

He followed her from the rooftops, watching her carefully, making sure not to lose track of her in the shadows. He came to a split between two buildings. He took a breath, stepped back, and with a small grunt, jumped the gap. He landed on the other side, and looked down. The girl had disappeared. This did not mean she was lost from him. He strained his eyes, and his pupils widened drastically. The world resolved into a high contrast, inverted color version of its usual self. He peered down the alley to the right...nothing. But looking to the left, he saw the girl turning into a small industrial park. Perfect.

After catching up to her, he focused energy into his hands, and climbed down the vertical face of a chemical vat. He dropped to the ground, some ten meters behind his prey. Quietly but quickly, he moved closer, staying on the other side of a bank of power converters. He ran ahead of the girl, and waited till she reached a small patch of light. Then he dashed across the path. She saw his outline, barely there, against the black background. She gasped and stood still. Leo waited on ontop of some rigging while she looked around.

"Hello?" she called. Her fear filled voice engaged his appetite more, and the demonic influences surge in his mind. He flicked his tongue out, running it across his bared teeth. The girl began walking again, at a faster pace this time. She reached another alley, and he followed behind her. She looked back, and Leo jumped on top of a dumpster, avoiding her gaze. She started walking again. Leo pulled a can out of the dumpster and tossed it towards his prey. The hollow sound echoed in the alley way. The girl let out a yelp and began to speed walk, her panting echoing back to Leo.

He crawled sideways along the walls, following her persistently. His muscles began to ache from the extended wall crawling, so he made a final leap onto a small metal balcony. The iron sound made the girl scream, and she began running, her breath erratic. She turned a corner, with Leo still in hot pursuit, running on all fours along the top of a ledge he'd found. The alley way ended in a door. The girl paused for a moment and turned around. Leo let out a low cackle, spurring the girl to bolt for the door. Leo saw an open window that led into the building, and crawled inside of it.

He heard the girl open the door downstairs, and moved down the staircase stealthily. The building was just another abandoned townhouse; these kinds of empty structures filled the cities nowadays, and Leo loved them for reasons just like this. The girl slammed the door, and she turned around, leaning her back against it. She was hyperventalating, which then turned into light sobs. Using his night vision, Leo saw her horrified face, looking over her shoulder, despite the door. It was that moment Leo let loose a howl and more cackling. The girl screamed as Leo lept across the room, and the macabre feast began.
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.:~Silent Strength~:
Name: Shari

Gender: Female

Age: 69

Species: Helltouched

Nationality: Australian

Description: Shari's Soul Shard is embedded in the back of her neck, and is only merely grape sized. She has vivid green eyes and mousey brown, relatively long hair, which she prefers to have either partly tied back or in a long plait. After the assimilation of the Soul Shard, she grew wings (slowly and pretty painfully) and has used them for many purposes, like fighting and travelling. She doesn't care much for clothes, but tends to go for the colours red and black and prefers shorts. She is rather tall, and is at a healthy weight range with a rather athletic body as she relies heavily on power and speed to survive, outwit her enemies and make a living in SERAPH.

Personality: Before the storm, Shari was quite a caring person, but had most of that reputation washed away. She appears very tough and will mostly do things for others if it involves some sort of gain for her. She never lets her emotions get the best of her, and is quite docile and independent on her own. Shari is always quite wary of what is going on, and keeps to herself 95% of the time. Her shard has been silenced by Shari's fierce and agile mind, though it can still emit emotions and deliver inspiration when she needs it most. She prefers to be a "quiet achiever". Despite her normally docile state, if you really anger her or betray her, it may just be one of the last things you ever do.

History: Shari was almost fifteen when the Shard Storm hit. Before the storm, she was known as Laura. It was an ordinary day in her neighbourhood; she was out walking towards the local supermarket when the storm raged through the town. She didn't have enough time to turn around when a shard struck her on the back of her neck and embedded itself in very firmly. The agony was immense. Before the shard took most of its hold on her, Laura staggered home only to see her parents murdered by other Helltouched from cities that had been hit earlier.

Orphaned and on her own, Laura wandered the streets completely alone. It got worse when her wings began to sprout. It was an excrutiatingly painful process. At night when it was particularly painful, you could hear her wailing down the empty streets. The loneliness and pain were almost unbearable, until she met a boy called Evan, aged about sixteen. They stuck together and became good friends, mainly because they had wanted company, something that had become seemingly impossible of late.

Evan took Laura back to a little hideout of his, where she met his parents, and stayed there for a few weeks. One day, after Evan and Laura returned to the hideout after searching for food, they found Evan's parents cornered by other Helltouched, who were demanding food. Laura felt Evan's fear, and she couldn't bear the thought of losing two more people she cared about. One of the Helltouched raised a talonned claw to strike, when Laura (now a slave to her fear) screamed and ran into the Helltouched who was about to strike, knocking him over. The second Helltouched became enraged, and held both parents against the wall with his large arm. "Don't do it!" Laura wept. The Helltouched laughed at the fact this girl cared, pulled out a sword and sliced the defenceless humans in half. Laura buried her face in her hands, devastated that more must now suffer.

After the Helltouched left, Evan approached Shari. "I'm so sorry, Evan..." she sobbed. "I know you are," said Evan. His face looked sympathetic but his voice was icy cold. "Goodbye, Laura." He turned and left her weeping in the remains of the tiny hideout. Shari finally picked herself up and ran outside to see Evan's shadow disappear over the horizon. It's all your fault, a voice inside her head- the shard- taunted. Because you cared, because you let people know you cared, you have lost EVERYTHING. It was this main event that shaped Shari into the rock hard, docile person she is today, by changing her name and wiping her past away. The fusion of Laura's strong will and the shard's incredible power into Shari has so far been almost unconquerable.

Meandering around the remains of her city, her wings eventually became fully developed, and she left her homeland of Australia in search of other humans and hopefully, less of the Helltouched that had begun to invade. She managed to land in Europe, and after being forced out another city wreckage by more Helltouched, she wound up in London, England- or what was left of it- where she joined SERAPH and began to fight against her own wretched kind who had taken all the people she had held dear.

Organization: SERAPH

Equipment: A mixture of weapons- two pistols, one sniper rifle (for stealth missions), a box of matches and a sword named Solox, with a hilt encrusted in rubies, acquired in a tough battle against a respected Helltouched who called himself Danegiarus.

Other: N/A

Additional Fields for Helltouched

Powers: An ability to control fire- activated by contact with fire, hence the matches. Lasts for about half an hour on initial contact.

Location of Shard: Back of the neck, grape-sized- has a tattoo around it with many swirls.

Required Field for All Characters


I walked amongst the rubble of a small village, following my ears through the sound of tearing flesh and joyful cries of an inhuman monster. Many would have turned tail and ran, but not me. That was not my mission. I was on the trail of a Helltouched, one that had been terrorising one of the very few remaining human tribes. I scanned the area, imagining my eyes were a sonar. It seemed to help; I absorbed every detail of my surroundings as I walked as silently as a ghost down the empty pathway. The cries were getting louder and louder.

There were two large walls up ahead. I quickly but quietly walked up to one of the sides of the wall, and pressed myself against it. I used my senses to help me. I could feel something, picking up a power signal- that of a Helltouched. I backed away from the wall, spread my wings and gave an almighty flap, launching me up on top of the wall. The Helltouched seemed to have heard it and left the ravaged human corpse it was eating to run to where I was once standing. Tucking in my wings, I leapt off the wall at the floor, piling my entire body weight on top of the unknowing Helltouched.

"You really should watch where you're going," I remarked. The Helltouched began thrashing about and looked up. I cringed with repulsion- his head was dripping with blood after I'd smashed it into the floor, and his Soul Shard had lodged itself into his cheek, making him look very ugly. "Yyyouu havvve nnnoooo busssssinessss herrre, worrrkerrrr offf SERRRRAPHHH," he hissed, and struggled to get free. "I believe I do, actually," I said matter-of-factly. "Yyyyouuuu willlllll nottttt wwwinnnn! Ourrrr kinnnnnd isssss stronnnngerrrr thannnn yyyooouuuu cannnn imaginnnne!" He hissed again. "Like hell, it is," I snapped back, took out my trusty sword and plunged it into his head. That's one less to worry about, I thought, and I spread my wings again and took off, heading back for SERAPH HQ.
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Tearen the Absol: Accepted.
.:Faithless:. : Accepted.

I originally was looking to have about 6 people in the RPG before starting, but I will probably start it this weekend regardless of what happens in terms of additional sign ups. I'll have my character up by then as well; I planned on having it up by now but work has proved to be an unfortunate hindrance.


Volcanic Rage
Name: Chi Novastra. (Called Chi by friends, Novastra by anyone who isn't)

Gender: Male

Age: 60

Species: Helltouched.

Nationality: English

Description: He has a slightly thin frame, and is of average height for a 25-year old (but of course that only when he stopped aging...) Starting at the top, His hair is brown and medium length at the back and sides, whislt spiked up at the front in a quiff-like manner. His face is half-triangular, straight down from the temple to the cheekbones and then points inwards towards the chin. His eyes are a deep sea blue colour, and his nose and mouth are normal sized and shape. His ears, for which, he used to be sometimes mocked for, are slightly bigger than average and stick out more than most peoples'. He also has a small scar on his left cheek. The clothes he tends to wear are slightly bizzare for someone most ordinary people would designate as evil. Usually found in a brown pin-stripe suit, with white shirt and tie underneath the suit's jacket. Never been a fan of formal footwear, he tends to wear trainers, trainers with sturdy soles, as he runs about. A lot. Sometimes he also wears a long coat of matching colour over the suit, The coat has plenty of hidden pockets on the inside, whilst having the usual two on the outside. The predominately formal attire is broken by one thing, He wares a black glove, only on his left hand... for reasons stated later. He is a man of good to great intellect too.

Personality: Despite having the expected evil tendencies of a Helltouched, he still feels a strong sense of right and wrong, which is why he is part of SERAPH. The calm and careful nature of Chi before the shard storm have echoed into Helltouched form. Still quite peaceful, that any normal person would not realise just what he is, if they glanced at him. However, he is often wraught with guilt and not because of the guilt he feels about what damage the other Helltouched have caused, for personal reasons too. (This will be explained in History). This guilt is what drives him in seeking and trying to convert rebel Helltouched. It was what led him to SERAPH. If confronted by a rebel Helltouched, he feels the anger that they're not using their abilities for good. However, he will always offer redemption first, then resort to violence if they decline.

History: Born and raised in Britain, his parents were eccentric, hence the not-so-typically-english name. Went to public school, and passed most subjects with flying colours. Enjoyed Art and IT the most, and from there he followed a career plan of Graphics Designer. He became head graphics designer at 23 at a high profile computer games company. He also married his childhood sweetheart at 24, a woman who he loved so much. Never one for being stuck in an office though, he spent most of the time on the roof of the building. The roof had lovely floral displays and comfortable benches. He had personally taken an easel up to the roof to work on a painting of the arctic as he had always enjoyed arctic animals and snow. This was what he was doing at the time the shard storm happened. One piece struck him in his left hand, just catching the side of his face as it went, which left a scar.

After the storm, after being taken to hospital only to be dismissed once the doctors realised they couldn't get the shard out, his life got worse, very quickly. News broke out about rogue Helltouched. Anyone with a shard in them became public enemies. He had to get away. He left his wife a note, explaining it all, saying he'll be back one day, when it will be alright again, and fled. The guilt he feels for bringing this on her has made him cold. The hole left by his love became filled with hatred partially from the shard, and partially from himself. Hatred against the ones that caused all this. Shortly after fleeing, he heard on the winds about a organisation dedicated to helping humanity by using Helltouched's powers for good. This led him to SERAPH. At SERAPH, he discovered his abilities, and honed them. He became one of the top agents at SERAPH, renowned for his dedication in doing his job right. He honed his skills more and more. No one knows why he is so dedicated but himself, and none like to question. Saying this, he does have a few friends, among the the Helltouched. He also has accumalated a large amount of contacts in human society. He spends a fair amount of time off SERAPH's radar. In this time, no one can find him. In this time, he is in fact checking on his wife. Guarding her.

Organization: SERAPH

Equipment: The coat with many pockets wields many mystery items. The ones most notably used are, screwdriver, spanner, and a pair of glasses, which can be used to check for things i.e. searching for radiation from a substance, or heat sensing etc...

Other: Nope...

Additional Fields for Helltouched

Passive - Ability to seemingly not be there, not invisibility but unnoticeable...

Passive - Immunity to cold, but slightly more susceptible to warmth

Active - Ability to harness the powers of Ice, works best when feeling angry or coldhearted. Predominitely more power with the left hand due the shard.

Location of Shard: A thin shard, in depth and width became lodged in his left hand. The shard runs from the base of the little finger to the opposite where the hand meets the wrist.

Required Field for All Characters


"You have a choice," he pleaded, "You can leave your evil past, join us, you can help the world, not destroy it."

"Um... No," the other man said in a matter of fact tone. He was taller than the negiotator and wider too.

"Fine. By don't say I didn't give you a chance," with that the first man extended his arm and unleashed his power as a beam of ice sprouted from his hand and slammed into the other man. The other man was knocked against the wall behind him. The ice began to spread around him, pinning him to the wall. Once satisfied that the ice would hold him in place, Chi turned and walked away. "SERAPH can pick him up," he muttered as he walked out the room.

Once outside, he reached into his pocket and took out his communicator. "I have another one for you take bake to HQ"

"Oh, what? Not another one," said the operator sounding surprised, "Where are you, I'll send someone straightaway." After giving her the details he said one last thing;

"You might want to bring an icepick," then he hung up.

"We always do..." she sighed into the dial tone and put the phone down.


I hope that's thorough enough and long enough. That's the most detailed characted I've ever done...
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AmazingChi: Accepted.

The RPG has been started in the main RPG forum.

And, finally, my character:

Name: Ansgar Ambrose Skollsgard
Gender: Male
Age: 115
Species: Helltouched
Nationality: Norwegian

Description: Ansgar was an old man when he was corrupted by his soul shard and the stains age had made on him persist. His hair is primarily a silvery white with the texture of flax or thread, but a few streak of black appeared after his corruption.. His bangs are pushed back and the lot of it spills down onto his square shoulders where it rests in bramble-like structure, scraggly and bent this way and that. His face is narrow and hard and somewhat flat, and the faded creases that adorn his distinguished brow are sharp and firm, making his countenance appear carven, as if from stone or steel. His eyebrows are an iron-grey, of medium thickness, and consistently angled against one another, giving him a continuous look of unrest and intimidation. His chiseled nose is blunt and square but thin, coming to an end a half-inch above a set of thin lips. Ansgar’s form is wiry, lean and somewhere between gaunt and overtly muscular. His corruption did much to rebuild the strength that had been depleted by his human age, though not so much as to make him look like a behemoth. His clothing is simple and functional. On his upper body he wears a short sleeved, form fitting white shirt and over that a heavy hide winter jacket of steely grey. A thick leather black belt is fastened around his waist with an iron buckle. He wears charcoal grey trousers, not too fitting but not too baggy, and supple black boots. His exposed hands are weathered and rough, covered in calluses and tightness. His union with the soul shard produced two inhuman characteristics. His eyes are a deep green, far more rich than any human’s should be, completed with a noticeable ring of bright violet between his pupils and the outside edge of his irises. The space around the iris, what is usually white in a human, is an inky black. His second and final infernal feature is the tapered tail grows from the base of his spine; a three foot long, whip-tight appendage of resilient jade flesh.

Personality: Ansgar’s bitterness had already been a fully developed trait even before he was corrupted by the soul shard. Due to his bed-ridden state he felt cut off from the world and festered in hate and spite for years. He had not always been so venomous, and was quite a different man before the incident that paralyzed him occurred. Back then he was a determined and resolved person, hard as stone and unbreakable as steel when it came to decisiveness and reaching goals. His tenacity served him well in the military, with his ability to control himself under pressure and make difficult decisions on the fly. He was otherwise an average person, content and prone to the general fluctuations of emotion that anyone else experienced. He was not a saint but most of the times honorable, not a villain but not unfamiliar with anger and contempt. After his accident, however, his attitude worsened, especially after he learned that it was permanent, and twice as much when he learned how it had happened. He had been betrayed by a superior and became consumed with hatred for him though was without anyway of carrying out that hatred, channeling much of it into a brutalizing self-loathing. For thirty years he wallowed in this, and it turned him into a shell of his former self, built of regret and despair.

The soul shard, when it hit, amplified these feelings of aggression. It also ridded him of his paralysis, and years of self-hate were suddenly poured into his anger, making him extremely volatile. Able to get around once more, he released much of his rage over a course of several days and cooled off considerably. The aggression was still present, forever would be, but it mixed with his former characteristics of decisiveness and determination.

Now, Ansgar is a sophisticated killer. His demonic ferocity coupled with his human resolve and ability to quickly weigh options and make crucial decisions have loosely come together to form a being slow to fury but one able to utilize the potential of demonic aggression in a more sensible way. He comes off as a collected individual, wise and mild-tempered, logical with a hint of impatience. It takes a lot to get him to the point where his demonic aggression can take over, and even when it does it is much more restrained than many Helltouched would display. The bitterness that had accumulated in him for half of his lifetime has not diminished, and now as a Helltouched he finds himself with a detest for life, be it human, Helltouched, or otherwise. He sees the human race as nothing more than a failed experiment and also believed the Helltouched are headed down the same route. He kills to put his own troubled existence at ease, trying to prove his own worth to himself by attempting to rid the world of both of these species that deserve not to live. When confronted by either human or Helltouched, he will not attack right away, instead opting to probe them with questions and statements both as an attempt to put opponents off their guard and as a stalling mechanism so he can take note of the area and size up his opponent before going into battle. He prefers not to work with either side, desiring to pursue his goals only through his own means, but may work with either if he sees no other choice. He shows no remorse or pity to a member of either race and sees the destruction of both as an inevitable end.

History: Ansgar Skollsgard was born in Oslo into a middle-class family and had an altogether normal upbringing. He attended school where he did well enough, not spectacularly nor horribly. He became interested with the military at an early age and took up hobbies in military history and practices. After completing his schooling he found his way into the military where he excelled more than he ever did at school. His quick-thinking and determination made him both an efficient soldier and researcher. He had studied engineering and science in school and while he was not stellar at academics he proved to have great skill when it came down to actually implementing it. Between his studies of both fields and of military history and a certain intuition for military technology he was noticed by superiors early on in his military career. He was assigned as an assistant to the head researcher on a new project in hopes that he would be able to provide some fresh insight to it and to cater to his education. The head researcher despised Ansgar for his near prodigal status to the higher officers and their willingness to put him in a situation that called for much more experience and knowledge that he had at the time. The head researcher himself had several degrees that took him many years to accrue and still had to prove himself numerable times to get to the position that Ansgar was put into just starting out. His resentment towards the young Skollsgard only grew when he was able to make several innovations with the new project and, when he petitioned for a project of his own, was awarded with his own lab and staff. The head researcher met secretly with one of the army officers who harbored similar feelings for Ansgar and the two contrived a way to rid them of him. During a test of Ansgar’s new experiments, a critical error occurred and resulted in the death of his entire staff and left Ansgar himself paralyzed. All of his merits came crashing down as he was dishonorable discharged for the accident, a punishment pushed for heavily by his two secret enemies, who had, unbeknownst to anyone, had sabotaged the experiment beforehand.

Because Ansgar had been dishonorable discharged, the military would not fund any medical expenses or care. This left him only able to afford the lowest grade of care using the modest inheritance his parents had left him when they died a few years before. Two years later he learned that the two officers’ had orchestrated the entire thing and was so bitter and contemptuous towards the army that he refused their offer to start funding his care. This bitterness and hate was left to brew with him as he lay bed ridden for near forty years. When the shard storm occurred, a soul shard came up through the ground beneath the building he was in, came through the floor and embedded itself in the small of his back. He was still bed-ridden for a few days as the demonic energy manifested itself within him and his anger was amplified. Only when it became uncontrollable did he realize he was able to move - whether or not the soul shard physically amended his paralysis or supernaturally cured it he still knows not - and went on a several day rampage (much of which he directed at the military groups of northern Europe, and became somewhat known as one of the Helltouched that were considerably responsible for the collapse of certain military figures and locations in some areas) before finally ridding himself of the unchained fury. He then was left with only his bitterness and his hate, and pledged to himself to rid the world of the curse of both man and Helltouched, in some warped attempt to redeem himself in his own eyes. He has been on an unending task, since then, roaming the lands, killing to sate his own self-hate, displaying the worst aspects of both human and demon.

Organization (If Applicable): N/A
Equipment: Ansgar prefers to fight hand-to-hand As much of his life was spent being paralyzes, he still relishes being able to engage in combat in such a way. Still, he does not see himself above weapon use and carries both an axe and a decently-powered handgun.
Other: Nothing at the moment.

Passive: Ansgar can breathe underwater.
Activated: Ansgar can wrench water vapor from a living organism’s body. Doing so takes a good deal of focus, time, and energy but can cause incredible pain. He generally prefers to directly attack others first, as the attack is easier to pull off if an organism’s body is already considerably cut and damaged.
Activated: Ansgar can harness the water vapor in the air and condense it into semi-physical manifestations that can cut and pierce. ‘Vapor blades,’ if you will.

Location of Shard: Ansgar’s shard is in the center of the small of his back and is undecorated.