Pem

[Deleted]

[nospaces]

[attr="class","Vapppatt"]

[attr="class","Vapppatt2"]

[attr="class","VPChdr"]

[attr="class","VPCion"][attr="class","ion-more"]

I never wanted this, but in the end it was me or you, and you'd already failed.

[attr="class","VPCimgbox"]

[attr="class","VPCnamehdr"] [attr="class","VPCname"]Pem [attr="class","Vpartytitle"]about me [attr="class","Vwhoicons"] [attr="class","ion-transgender"] [attr="class","Vwhoicons"] [attr="class","ion-android-calendar"] [attr="class","Vwhoicons"] [attr="class","ion-person"] [attr="class","Vwhoicons"] [attr="class","ion-home"] [attr="class","Vwhoicons"] [attr="class","ion-cube"]

[attr="class","Vapptraitbox"] [attr="class","Vapptxthdr"] [attr="class","Vinfoion"][attr="class","ion-pound"] Positive Traits [attr="class","Vtrait"] [attr="class","Vinfoion"][attr="class","ion-chevron-right"] Honorable [attr="class","Vtrait"] [attr="class","Vinfoion"][attr="class","ion-chevron-right"] Patriotic [attr="class","Vtrait"] [attr="class","Vinfoion"][attr="class","ion-chevron-right"] Skilled in Battle [attr="class","Vtrait"] [attr="class","Vinfoion"][attr="class","ion-chevron-right"] Charismatic [attr="class","Vapptxthdr"] [attr="class","Vinfoion"][attr="class","ion-pound"] Negative Traits [attr="class","Vtrait"] [attr="class","Vinfoion"][attr="class","ion-chevron-right"] Prideful [attr="class","Vtrait"] [attr="class","Vinfoion"][attr="class","ion-chevron-right"] Ruthless [attr="class","Vtrait"] [attr="class","Vinfoion"][attr="class","ion-chevron-right"] Cruel [attr="class","Vtrait"] [attr="class","Vinfoion"][attr="class","ion-chevron-right"] Manipulative [attr="class","Vfreebox"] [attr="class","Vappfreeformbox"] [attr="class","Vappfreeformhdr"]history [attr="class","Vappfreeform"] [attr="class","Vappfreeformtext"] The Orphan [break][break] Pem's first memory is of his childhood toy. A small box, covered in dark runes, that would begin to glow when he focused on it. A simple trinket, that merely glowed when magic power was passed through it, and that he found abandoned in an ally, he nonetheless loved this box more than anything. As time passed, every night he'd stare at the unchanging orange sky, pull out the box, and make it glow, and as he did, over the years its glow grew brighter and brighter. [break][break] During this time, Pem was raised on the streets. A mere orphan, abandoned for unknown reasons, he somehow managed to stay alive through the constant hunger and sickness. Over the years, he began to gather together a group of those like him, bringing together the orphans, runaways, and outcasts, and together they began to gain the supplies they needed, through the attack of traveling merchants, and the like. Together they were able to begin doing more than just surviving, especially as Pem began to manifest magic. [break][break] However, nearly thirty years after first discovering his box, Pem broke it. Maybe he just put too much magic through it at once, or maybe he had done so over time, slowly weakening it to the point it couldn't handle any more. Or it might have even been designed to do so, in the hands of a half decent mage. Whatever it might have been, that night, as his followers slept around him, he pored more power into it than he had ever before, and the box shattered, sending out a magical shockwave that collapsed the shack they were squatting in. [break][break] Not long after, the guard came due to reports of an explosion, and found the collapsed building. In the rubble, they discovered the bodies of the bandit group that had evaded them for many years, and at the epicenter of the blast was the unconscious form of their leader, holding the twisted remains of something, presumably the explosive that had caused this. Quickly locking him up as a would be terrorist, it was determined that Pem would not be free for a very long time. [break][break] The Prisoner [break][break] If you asked him now, Pem couldn't tell you how long he lived in that cell. He was only fed enough to stay alive, and was left barely able to move, half delirious from hunger. You see, food is a precious resource in the twilight realm. Few plants even grow there, let alone those that are edible, and meat is a scarce dream only experienced by the highest of nobles. Far too precious to waste on a mere starving prisoner. This is how he spent the next four decades, a half mad prisoner of this timeless realm. Until that is, a visitor arrived, clad in a lizard-like helm, and flanked by masked monsters. [break][break] He had no memory of the events that followed, his mind having been taken from him, only that some amount of time had passed. He woke in the light of a Sol, surrounded by others in various states of wakefulness, and strangely feeling better than he had in years. Surrounding them, of course, were guardsmen. Gathering them together, the guardsmen gave the official story of what had happened. [break][break] At the beginning of the incident, a nobleman by the name of Zant had sought out and gained a strange, dark power from a being named Gannondorf. Having seemingly went insane, he then cursed the inhabitants of the realm, turning them into an army of monsters. He used this army to overrun the palace, and banish the Twilight Princess, Midna, to the realm of light. He then rampaged across the realm of light, apparently attempting to conquer it for the Twili. About a week before they were cured, two travelers from the realm of light appeared in the twilight palace. The travelers, a hylian dressed in green, and a strange imp-like creature, killed Zant, and used the power of the Sols to return a few nobles back to their Twili form. They then left, leaving those few nobles to clean up the mess. Two days later, the Twilight Princess returned, and destroyed the bridge between the two worlds. [break][break] The group of course had questions. Where had this Gannondorf gone? Who were the two that killed Zant? What will happen now that there's no way back from the realm of shadows? Why would the Twilight Princess destroy their only path back? Their only road to freedom? The guards couldn't answer. They didn't know. They didn't even realize a man, who had been locked in their dungeons for decades, was now right in front of them, a seemingly free man. It was at that moment, Pem realized he pitied them. [break][break] There was no other way he could describe it. These men and women, many of which had likely served the realm longer than he had even been alive, were just as ignorant as he. At least one had been present, had fought when Zant took the palace. None of them knew. None had been told what had happened. None of them even knew exactly how much time had passed. He pitied them, and as for their masters, they he scorned. [break][break] They were let free not long after, told to return to their old homes, and return to the lives they had led. In a way, he actually planned on listening. After a few hours travel, he had returned to the shack in which everything changed. He spent hours there, looking through the ruins of his childhood, finding mere relics of the past. A ring that one once wore. A scrap of fabric. A forgotten tooth. In the end, he sat on one of the crumbling walls, and looked up at the unchanging orange sky. [break][break] The Cultist [break][break] He didn't notice when the man joined him. An older man, this Twili was balding, and his robes could have more easily been called rags, than finery. And then the two began to talk. Their topics covered all of the recent events, from the coronation of the Twilight Princess, to aftermath of Zant's rebellion. There were many things they disagreed on, the elderly man seemed to idolize Zant a little too much, but the things that they did agree upon were far more numerous. Even if he was deranged, Zant was right. This world held no future, and then, the very moment they began to have one, it was set back by two travelers from the realm of light, and ended by their own ruler. [break][break] The man told him of a gathering that had been arranged of like minded individuals, and agreed to take him there. They traveled through the slums of the near dead city, and eventually reached the site, a small home, presumably belonging to one of those that were present. That meeting, there were ten visitors. The next, there we fifteen. The meeting after that, there were twenty-three of them, each discussing events, and their sometimes differing views on had had come to pass, and what was yet to. And the meeting after, the guard invited themselves. [break][break] Their flight was long, and bloody. It was as if the city itself had turned against them, death waiting around every corner. For the first time in nearly four decades, Pem was forced to use his magic to take a life, and the streets ran red with the blood of both guardsmen, and sympathizer. Only nine made it out of the city alive, the rest killed where they stood. However, those that were left were strong, and now they were angry. The Twilight Princess, Midna, had labeled them as deranged cultists, people who had taken up the mantle of Zant to continue his insanity. [break][break] She had made a mistake, though. As the announcement was made, anyone who had any amount of respect for Zant's accomplishments began to draw together in small pockets. And the guard's continued eradication of any such pockets, under the direction of the Twilight Princess, only seemed to spurn those still on the line to the side of the persecuted. After a decade, while they mostly remained in the shadows, there were now enough Zant cultists to officially call it a movement. [break][break] And among this madness was Pem. As one of the few survivors of the first massacre, he was given great respect among the cultists, and offered high positions among them. However, haunted by the memories of his old followers, and what he did to them, he refused, choosing instead to lead small bandit groups, like he had so many years ago. Of course, as the movement went on, and the targets began to escalate, so to did the targets he attacked, the forces he lead, and the reputation he gained. [break][break] The King [break][break] The future he would begin to create, began on the day he was chosen as a sacrificial pawn. Over the past decades, the cultists had begun to target locations that housed Sols, so that they would control their necessary light. That day, the target would be a fort specifically built to protect multiple Sols from their advance. He was told that there were cultists inside, merely waiting for the attack so that they could sabotage the defense. [break][break] The truth was, there were not, the entire attack was merely a political move to get rid of him. However, Pem did return, possessing a fifth of his original force and several Sols in his possession. He then sought out the man who had given him the information, a far younger Twili, born after Zant's death, and an honest fanatic. Pem publicly called him a coward, told how his lies had killed countless Twili, and finished by calling him a traitor, and challenging him to a duel. The young man, furious, accepted, and the day after, died. [break][break] It was then that Pem admitted that wether he led them or not, his allies and supporter would die, but that at least if he was in command, the dead would only include those who would die anyway, or who were like the now dead fool. What followed was a meteoric rise, as he used what political acumen he had, along with his near heroic status among the rank and file, to launch himself towards the head leadership position. Anyone who followed him was swiftly rewarded. Anyone who hindered him, died. [break][break] As he took command, and the chaos of his rise began to calm, so to did the cultists' seemingly random attacks began to slow, and halt. Less and less would attack weaker and weaker targets, and it began to appear as if the insurrection was slowly coming to its end. In the cultists's camps, not far from the civilized city, and the forts that protected it, a war camp began to form, preparing for battle. And finally, nearly four hundred years after the fateful attack by Zant, the attempted conquest that had changed the Twilight Realm forever, nine words were spoken. Nine words that would begin the grinding of the gears of change once more, for better, or for worse. [break][break] "Bring her to me. Bring me the Twilight Princess."

[attr="class","VPCdivide"]

[attr="class","VPCdivide2"]

[attr="class","Vappoocbox"] [attr="class","Vappoocbox2"] [attr="class","Voocname"] [attr="class","Vtitleion"][attr="class","ion-at"] Myreth [attr="class","Voocinfo"] [attr="class","Vinfoion"][attr="class","ion-chevron-right"] He/Him [attr="class","Voocinfo"] [attr="class","Vinfoion"][attr="class","ion-chevron-right"] PST [attr="class","Voocinfo"] [attr="class","Vinfoion"][attr="class","ion-chevron-right"] Myreth Cain#4028

[attr="class","Vappmiscbox"] [attr="class","Vappmischdr"] [attr="class","Vinfoion"][attr="class","ion-wand"] inventory [attr="class","Vappitem"] [attr="class","Vappitemstext"] Fell Shadow: Pem practices a form of shadow magic that controls the user's shadow. Using this magic allows the practitioner to shape simple two dimensional shapes, such as long spikes or a curving plane, out of their shadow. These shadow can be broken by a strong enough attack, and any part of them that comes within a millimeter of any form of light magic, or anything currently affected by light magic, is instantly destroyed. Other than this, his shadows are completely solid, and while they can not easily pierce armor, they can easily cut open mortal flesh. [break][break] + Shroud: Twili have the ability to become one with the shadows around them, making them masters of stealth. They can hide in a shadow of any size while they are in the Realm of Light. [break][break] - Weak to Light: Twili are vulnerable to light based attacks and sunlight, taking extra damage from those kinds of magic. [break][break] OTHER: Does your character carry anything else?

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[Deleted]

roleplay sample

IT'S TIME TO PROVE MYSELF!

Foolish villain, didn't you know? This is why the hero always wins!

Through the halls of the Twilight Palace, a trio walked. The two that followed were dressed in strange helms, almost lizard-like in appearance, while the third was dressed in sunburst depicting finery, a headdress of curling, bestial horns adorning his silvery hair. He was a representation of his people, both their past, and their coming future. He led the others through the palace, one an adviser, tasked with knowing the idiosyncrasies of the groups under his command, and the names of those with especially notable skill sets, the other a speaker, used as an extension of his will, a way to extend his orders to those he can not reach, and into places he will not enter.

As he led them down the halls of the castle, Pem smiled, and the memories of the palace layouts, given to him by the nobles and guards, ran through his mind. While the main goal of the attack had escaped, it wasn't that much of a surprise. Even while creating it, he had known the plan had to many points of weakness, too many holes for her to slip through. No matter what some in the cult might have believed, she was still one of the more powerful mages in the realm. She wouldn't have attained her position otherwise.

In the end though, Pem concluded, it really didn't matter. They now controlled the palace, and any supporters that had been in hiding had begun to emerge. For the first time in their four hundred years, they were finally in power. Their time as insurgents was over, and the only thing that they lacked was a truly legitimate ruler. At that, the edges of Pem's tired smile began to slip. No matter how much he tried to delude himself, his great victory remained a failure, hollow and empty. No matter what the others might believe, and independent of who sat in it, the throne was still hers in truth.

Still though, he thought with a small sigh, as he entered the throne room, and set his eyes upon the most powerful seat in the realm. Politics cares little for technicalities. "Begin the announcements," he said, turning to the second of his coterie. "Tell them how the Twilight Princess has chosen to flee, rather than fight her attacking enemy, and in the announcements, make sure to call her a coward, traitor, or a false princess that abandoned her people. And make sure all three are not used at the same time. While subtlety may not be to our gain, overdoing it could be just as harmful. Next, order the Sols to be released, and placed throughout the city in public locations. The more important, or public the location, the more Sols I want placed there, at a maximum of four. Finally, set a bounty on Midna's head, and remember, we need her back here alive, so have that reflected as such."

As he finished, and sent his announcer away to begin the spread of announcements, he turned to the last of his group, his adviser and spymaster. "You, I want to begin gathering a list of names. Anyone particularly suited to hunting her down, I want extensive profiles on, and rewards suited to their tastes, or needs prepared. As usual, I'll be expecting you to filter out those who are untrustworthy, and those whose price is either too great, or is just plain unsavory. Once you have done so, send out the word that the new monarch is requesting their audience, preferably as early as can be arranged. Dismissed."

Turning his back on the vanishing man, he climbed up the final steps to the throne, and sat, flaring out his shadow as he did so, to make it almost loom above him. Settling down, he closed his eyes and let out a long sigh, finally letting the tension in his body begin to settle, and begin to relax. The newest in the line of Twilight Monarchs, the Twilight King Pem, hadn't slept in nearly forty-eight hours, and frankly, he was dead on his feet. Two more meetings, he thought to himself, as he opened his eyes. Just two more meetings and I can finally let this awful day end.

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