Darce
Appearance
Casting a shadow upon those around him, Darce is a figure very noticeable in a crowd. Clad in dark cloth and bearing a scowl hard to forget, he is someone you'd find being burned in your memory, either as a passing stranger or the wielder of the blade to your throat. Standing at eight inches and six feet and weighing in at twenty-one and two hundred pounds, Darce strikes a large and imposing figure and is even stronger than he looks. While one may not see it through the dark cloak, the visage underneath is rather impressive. Hard-earned musculature, a physique to die for, can be inferred even from just looking at his face. As scary and intimidating his scowl could be, he shows a rather gruffly handsome face. His strong jawline and surprisingly deep and emotional eyes can catch the eyes of many romantics, though it could easily turn back into a devilish mug.
Personality
With a rather monochrome approach to socializing, he gets to the point fast, with very little dancing around the topic. He speaks only with motive, and is very single-minded when it comes to his goals. However, many people don't realize his skill in lateral thinking, capable of rapidly changing between topics in his mind, building it up and deconstructing them fast and easily. He is a rather intelligent person in spite of his looks by that standard. He is rather stuck inside his own head though, and can be rather stiff in conversations. However, when he truly is invested in something or someone, the awkwardness and normal conventions of social interactions will likely bounce back to him.
Above all else, Darce values honesty and truth. As quick as his mind is, Darce is a rather simple person. He speaks his mind bluntly and straight. While not entirely without filters, he will not hesitate to insult or berate when ticked off. Likewise, he has expectations that others will too. After all, as a slave fighter, very little interactions other than being told off by his masters and fighting occurs. In which almost all of such are honest matters, though disreputable. Because of this, he takes a lot of things at face value, emotionally speaking. While distrusting others is second-nature to him, understanding the emotional complexity of other people is difficult for him as he projects the simple thought pattern and ideology he has on them. If they say they are fine, they are fine. If they are happy, then they are happy. Trying to understand why someone would lie about that is extremely difficult for one such as him.
Darce's most notable trait is his single-minded drive towards whatever goal he has. He moves with great conviction towards whatever objective he has placed on himself. Whether mundane promises to extreme acts of emotional or physical risk, he will try his damn hardest to fulfill such. He values these promises over his life. Darce is a man of his word through and through. His unwavering resolve is clear to see for everyone.
Above all else, Darce values honesty and truth. As quick as his mind is, Darce is a rather simple person. He speaks his mind bluntly and straight. While not entirely without filters, he will not hesitate to insult or berate when ticked off. Likewise, he has expectations that others will too. After all, as a slave fighter, very little interactions other than being told off by his masters and fighting occurs. In which almost all of such are honest matters, though disreputable. Because of this, he takes a lot of things at face value, emotionally speaking. While distrusting others is second-nature to him, understanding the emotional complexity of other people is difficult for him as he projects the simple thought pattern and ideology he has on them. If they say they are fine, they are fine. If they are happy, then they are happy. Trying to understand why someone would lie about that is extremely difficult for one such as him.
Darce's most notable trait is his single-minded drive towards whatever goal he has. He moves with great conviction towards whatever objective he has placed on himself. Whether mundane promises to extreme acts of emotional or physical risk, he will try his damn hardest to fulfill such. He values these promises over his life. Darce is a man of his word through and through. His unwavering resolve is clear to see for everyone.
Skills and Abilities
Starting his life as a slave fighter in Cerak At'Thul, only the strongest survived. He was gifted with a good physique, granting him the highest level of strength, speed, agility, reflexes, toughness, endurance, ect, ect, a human could possibly get with his training and grit. Fighting through fellow children like him, to strong and hardy adult slaves of multiple races, Human, Orc, Naga, Kivren, or otherwise. He even bested beasts, ripped out their jaws, sunk his own teeth into them. He fought, scrapped, and came out on top. All this as a mere child of two and ten.
Not only is his brute power a force to be reckoned with, his refined skill and finesse are a monster on their own. He is an amazingly skilled combatant, capable of using an assortment weapons, conventional or improvised. While he was never given any formal training, having to learn all of this by ear, his strong drive to survive had allowed him to bursts through the odds. He is best with a blade, heavy ones to be exact. Other weapons, such as knives, spears, axes, are no foreign entity to him. In a brawl, with just fist, he can prove to be trouble even for masters of the art.
After being taken out of the slavery business by his Master Caslin, he was taught how to smith. He became a rather skilled one at that, though far from the mastery that Caslin displayed. He could forge weapons rather well, high-quality, but nothing masterwork. Caslin's wife, Avanna, an Elven Mage, placed runes upon him as a birthday gift after having spent a year under Caslin's work. Runes, placed on him through inscriptions of ancient blood vials held by their family. They looked on him as a son, but they knew that his fate was not here, as a Blacksmith. Whenever Caslin looked in his eyes, he knew that he was always a fighter at heart, a warrior in his soul. While they knew that he was never to admit his disdain for the mundane life he was given out of gratitude of being placed somewhere safe, they never tried to consign him to a fate. Caslin knew that whatever fate that Darce would have would be by his own hands, a forged by a hammer of his will. They predicted whatever that fate be, it would not be without violence.
The rune set upon him, carved in blood at the base of his nape, is unique among runes. It is so in its use is not to give him a quick burst of power in exchange for his stamina or life force. It takes his suffering and converts it into strength. Essentially, it allows him to train himself beyond his limits by exchanging the suffering he put himself through, the exhaustion, as a way to feed the rune. The rune sets upon his body enhancements, pushing him beyond the limits of his human form until he dies. This grants him inhuman strength, speed, agility, endurance, senses, and the like through training the respective abilities. This rune is known as the Brand of the Berserker.
The Brand and his training throughout the years has allowed him to gain inhuman physical abilities. He has the ability to overpower giants, uproot large trees, and swing his mighty blade. From cracking monstrous skulls with a single hand to crushing boulders unceremoniously, he shows his brute strength without faltering. Kivren will find their strength lacking significantly against his, one hand being enough to easily hold back the power of squadrons of them. Beasts such as bears can be flung into the air with a mighty swing. Furthermore, steadfast defense is immense, taking hammerings from beasts and warriors alike without a grunt of pain. He can take a mace to the face with little consequence. He can be thrown through solid stone walls, flung through buildings, dragged through the stony earth, and get up, saying mere flesh wounds won't stop him. He can push through any pain he does come across, capable of soldiering on no matter what, no matter how tired, hungry or sleepy he is. His speed and reflexes are similarly enhanced, being able to catch up to high-quality horses moving at their top speed in a matter of moments and catch arrows mid-flight. Combined with his strength, his behemoth of a sword can be swung at blurring rates, faster than most average soldiers could even perceive before they die, and with his agility, becomes a whirlwind on the battlefield. His senses are sharp, being able to hear a pin drop in a crowded room, see through darkness, and track a man through the forest through smell alone. He is able to take the rushing waves of a storm on the sea, capable of holding his breathe for over thirty minutes. He can even resist the poisons and paralytics of highly deadly specimen, though not without negative effects. He bears the ability to heal from minor and mild wounds quickly, and rather severe ones in days.
And of course, his most prominent trait is that sheer will of his. His willpower and drive allows him to succeed in even the most impossible odds. Throwing himself beyond the limitations of his body, giving himself over to the fire that rages within him and then tempering the burning inferno to his heel. This will allows him to resist mental tampering to an extent, and has become a source of boundless energy. However, this is not just fury. This is not rage, nor a righteous call. He feels no tranquility, no excitement, no anger. In this state, his mind is clear, his filters are off. This is what he believes is him in his truest form. A survivor; a struggler, fighting endlessly, not for a reason, or a purpose to be attained through it. He loses himself in the battle because that is where he believes he belongs. He is born for that fight, born for that suffering. He lives for that because he knows nothing else that could sate the beast inside him that yearns for more. It eats it up, and in the end, he still feels empty. There is no emotion. There is a belonging. A belonging to that void.
Not only is his brute power a force to be reckoned with, his refined skill and finesse are a monster on their own. He is an amazingly skilled combatant, capable of using an assortment weapons, conventional or improvised. While he was never given any formal training, having to learn all of this by ear, his strong drive to survive had allowed him to bursts through the odds. He is best with a blade, heavy ones to be exact. Other weapons, such as knives, spears, axes, are no foreign entity to him. In a brawl, with just fist, he can prove to be trouble even for masters of the art.
After being taken out of the slavery business by his Master Caslin, he was taught how to smith. He became a rather skilled one at that, though far from the mastery that Caslin displayed. He could forge weapons rather well, high-quality, but nothing masterwork. Caslin's wife, Avanna, an Elven Mage, placed runes upon him as a birthday gift after having spent a year under Caslin's work. Runes, placed on him through inscriptions of ancient blood vials held by their family. They looked on him as a son, but they knew that his fate was not here, as a Blacksmith. Whenever Caslin looked in his eyes, he knew that he was always a fighter at heart, a warrior in his soul. While they knew that he was never to admit his disdain for the mundane life he was given out of gratitude of being placed somewhere safe, they never tried to consign him to a fate. Caslin knew that whatever fate that Darce would have would be by his own hands, a forged by a hammer of his will. They predicted whatever that fate be, it would not be without violence.
The rune set upon him, carved in blood at the base of his nape, is unique among runes. It is so in its use is not to give him a quick burst of power in exchange for his stamina or life force. It takes his suffering and converts it into strength. Essentially, it allows him to train himself beyond his limits by exchanging the suffering he put himself through, the exhaustion, as a way to feed the rune. The rune sets upon his body enhancements, pushing him beyond the limits of his human form until he dies. This grants him inhuman strength, speed, agility, endurance, senses, and the like through training the respective abilities. This rune is known as the Brand of the Berserker.
The Brand and his training throughout the years has allowed him to gain inhuman physical abilities. He has the ability to overpower giants, uproot large trees, and swing his mighty blade. From cracking monstrous skulls with a single hand to crushing boulders unceremoniously, he shows his brute strength without faltering. Kivren will find their strength lacking significantly against his, one hand being enough to easily hold back the power of squadrons of them. Beasts such as bears can be flung into the air with a mighty swing. Furthermore, steadfast defense is immense, taking hammerings from beasts and warriors alike without a grunt of pain. He can take a mace to the face with little consequence. He can be thrown through solid stone walls, flung through buildings, dragged through the stony earth, and get up, saying mere flesh wounds won't stop him. He can push through any pain he does come across, capable of soldiering on no matter what, no matter how tired, hungry or sleepy he is. His speed and reflexes are similarly enhanced, being able to catch up to high-quality horses moving at their top speed in a matter of moments and catch arrows mid-flight. Combined with his strength, his behemoth of a sword can be swung at blurring rates, faster than most average soldiers could even perceive before they die, and with his agility, becomes a whirlwind on the battlefield. His senses are sharp, being able to hear a pin drop in a crowded room, see through darkness, and track a man through the forest through smell alone. He is able to take the rushing waves of a storm on the sea, capable of holding his breathe for over thirty minutes. He can even resist the poisons and paralytics of highly deadly specimen, though not without negative effects. He bears the ability to heal from minor and mild wounds quickly, and rather severe ones in days.
And of course, his most prominent trait is that sheer will of his. His willpower and drive allows him to succeed in even the most impossible odds. Throwing himself beyond the limitations of his body, giving himself over to the fire that rages within him and then tempering the burning inferno to his heel. This will allows him to resist mental tampering to an extent, and has become a source of boundless energy. However, this is not just fury. This is not rage, nor a righteous call. He feels no tranquility, no excitement, no anger. In this state, his mind is clear, his filters are off. This is what he believes is him in his truest form. A survivor; a struggler, fighting endlessly, not for a reason, or a purpose to be attained through it. He loses himself in the battle because that is where he believes he belongs. He is born for that fight, born for that suffering. He lives for that because he knows nothing else that could sate the beast inside him that yearns for more. It eats it up, and in the end, he still feels empty. There is no emotion. There is a belonging. A belonging to that void.
Equipment
Dracamir
Dracamir is his blade, his weapon of woe. And by simply looking at it, it truly is a weapon of legend. Well, if you can look beyond the crudeness. It is of epic proportions, rather literally. The blade alone spanning seven feet in length, it is a behemoth of a sword. Well, a sword is not the exact word for such a weapon. It is more like a sharpened metal beam of condensed adamantine, folded hundreds of times. Caslin considers this his most tiresome work, having folded it so many times that he lost count. It was folded in a lighter array, but the sheer density caused it to become extremely heavy. Weighing it at over a 1323 lbs, the weapon cannot be wielded by those of lesser strength. However, in the hands of Darce, the mighty blade becomes but a blur in combat, faster than many can react to. It is enchanted with sharpness, durability, and healing, allowing the blade to have an immense edge, retain it, and when finally damaged, heal itself. The blade, as noted, could cleave through just about anything.
Armor
Sparing but effective armor, Caslin knew that Darce was never one to wear protective clothing in combat. However, for the sake of his surrogate son's life, he made one anyway, and Darce, for the sake of his surrogate father, wore it. It is made of the same metal as Dracamir, placed in vital places, but sparing on the overall enclosure, as Darce would like it. Breastplates, bracers, shinguards, thighguards, gauntlets, and a pauldron on his left, but not much more. It is extremely durable, capable of taking hits from beings of superhuman strength with a heavy blunt weapon with only mild damage.
Knives
Darce is a crackshot along with his skill with a blade. These are simple throwing knives made by Darce himself. They are quite well-made too. When thrown by the superhuman Darce, these small blades can penetrate through thick, heavy armor.
Biography & Lore
Darce was born into slavery into Cerak At'Thul. For most of his life, he was a fighter, and that is what he thought his life would be encompassed as. An endless fight, and he devoted himself to it. Every passing second was another challenge, and he would overcome it. He had to survive, for what other reason did he have? It was a lonely existence, having blood be the only purpose of his life. He became a top warrior, soon enough, even though he sat on that year just before his adolescence started. They knew, his slavers and the people that watched him, that if no one would buy him, he would stay on that throne till his old age. And given the price set for him, it was unlikely that anyone would.
Enter Caslin, a renowned Blacksmith in Cerak At'Thul, who bought him. It was unknown why to both the people and Darce. He was surprised to have even been bought at all, and was uncomfortable and anxious with the thought of being anywhere outside his place in the arena. It was a foreign world out there, and as strong as he was, he was still a child of little knowledge. He was wondering what he would fight for Caslin, but was taken aback when he started to teach him the way of the smith. He followed, however, learning from him.
Caslin, as he found, was also a slave boy, a fighter in his younger years. He was a champion for a day, before being bought of by his own master, who too was a slave prior to this. It was a tradition, and neither Caslin nor Darce knew why they followed it. Avanna, Caslin's wife, was an elderly elf, knowledgeable in a bountiful of magics. She was also a part of the weapons making, enchanting weapons for higher class scales. It was a profitable business, one he eventually took over.
Caslin had his grave marked at the Ocean, and Avanna soon retired. He was buried in Thiria and Avanna, after kissing his surrogate son goodbye, went to live with her family in Fal'Addas. He was hoping to keep the business going, but Darce simply wasn't good enough for it. The business was crashing, as Darce's skill as a smith was insufficient. Then he found a letter, from Caslin before he died, tucked inside the crates of his best weapons that Darce looks through for sentimental reasons. It told him to go beneath the house, take what is his, and sell the business.
That is when he found Dracamir. And ever since then, he has been fighting as a mercenary, monster hunter, muscle for hire, whatever you call it, to find a reason for his madness.
Enter Caslin, a renowned Blacksmith in Cerak At'Thul, who bought him. It was unknown why to both the people and Darce. He was surprised to have even been bought at all, and was uncomfortable and anxious with the thought of being anywhere outside his place in the arena. It was a foreign world out there, and as strong as he was, he was still a child of little knowledge. He was wondering what he would fight for Caslin, but was taken aback when he started to teach him the way of the smith. He followed, however, learning from him.
Caslin, as he found, was also a slave boy, a fighter in his younger years. He was a champion for a day, before being bought of by his own master, who too was a slave prior to this. It was a tradition, and neither Caslin nor Darce knew why they followed it. Avanna, Caslin's wife, was an elderly elf, knowledgeable in a bountiful of magics. She was also a part of the weapons making, enchanting weapons for higher class scales. It was a profitable business, one he eventually took over.
Caslin had his grave marked at the Ocean, and Avanna soon retired. He was buried in Thiria and Avanna, after kissing his surrogate son goodbye, went to live with her family in Fal'Addas. He was hoping to keep the business going, but Darce simply wasn't good enough for it. The business was crashing, as Darce's skill as a smith was insufficient. Then he found a letter, from Caslin before he died, tucked inside the crates of his best weapons that Darce looks through for sentimental reasons. It told him to go beneath the house, take what is his, and sell the business.
That is when he found Dracamir. And ever since then, he has been fighting as a mercenary, monster hunter, muscle for hire, whatever you call it, to find a reason for his madness.
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