Name: Magar Kharn
Personality: Magar is harsh and unforgiving, an aspect easily traced back to his earlier life and one that often seems to characterise him. Despite this he does not dwell on the past, he is the kind who lives in the present, but with thought for the future. He is one for quick, snap decisions and won't wait around for anyone. He almost resents the Keybearers role in the universe, but accepts that perhaps he was given his abilities for a higher purpose and so, perhaps a little reluctantly, he uses them to protect the innocent, though he is willing to let them die should he believe it neccessary.
Description: Magar isn't a large warrior, at only 5'9 he stands shorter than many, not that this stops him. He is thin, almost to the point of starvation, testimony to his earlier life, but his lithe form hides devastating speed. His hair is black, cropped short and he always manages to find time to keep it spiked. His arms, torso, neck and face are covered in clan tattoos, the most notable being the long dragon that finishes with his eye as the dragon's. His eyes are a result of elective cosmetic surgery, a deep red, with no visible iris and that seem to glow when he is gripped by powerful emotions.
He usually wears form fitting, resilient clothing in dark grey. Although he'll usually wear sleevless tops, revealing the full extent of his clan and gang tattoos. His armour is similar, but not entirely lacking in protection he wears a breastplate with incorporated shoulder pauldrons, as well as bracers on his forearms, these are matched by the greaves below his knees, all of the armour is a uniform matte-black, with the exception of the trim around the edges of each piece, which is a dull silver.
Armour Class: Medium Armour
Background: Magar was born low down in the hierarchy of the techno-paradise Alluvium. As such he saw little of the paradise above, fighting and surviving in the dark ganglands below. His parents brought him up to look after himself and he became proficient at it, more than one low-life mugger left with a bloodied nose, or worse when they tried to take advantage of the young Kharn.
It wasn't long before he began to be drawn ever deeper into the dark underworld of Alluvium, joining the gangs, he became a drug runner for the Allato cats, controllers of a large portion of the undercity. Eventually he began to take some himself, as most gang members did. Unfortunately he was caught, they tried to kill him for taking part of the deliveries for his own use, but they were just as high as he was and he escaped, barely.
He moved and joined another gang, this time as an enforcer, he wasn't big like most of the muscle grafted brutes but that just gave him an edge and aided his rise through the hierarchy. Not that he was content to stop there, he quickly became a lieutenant, before making his bid for leadership.
They were to fight in the traditional manner of the ancient clans of their world. Each was given a single long spear, a long sword shaped blade at one end, a sharpened point at the other. Magar advanced cautiously, making opening feints with the bladed end of his spear, before realising that the gang boss was content to wait him out. As soon as it dawne on him, he attacked, jabbing and sweeping the spear in functional, if inelegant movements. But the gang leader was better, deflecting each blow with effortless ease, showing Magar just how badly he was outclassed.
Until a sound like thunder struck the sky. On any other planet this would be perfectly normal, but advanced as Alluvium was, they had developed control over their own weather system. A sound like that was unheard of for nearly a century. Everyone was distracted, but Magar wouldn't allow himself to be drawn away from his task and his spear lanced out into his opponent's belly.
Knowing he had only a moment before the enclave disintegrated into chaos magar called out, claiming that the sound had been a sign of his favour. Challenging any who would to face him. None did, shaken as they were.
But soon, in the dark heart of Alluvium they learned what had happened in the airy palaces above. The elders had fallen and now a dark being reigned from their palace. It wasn't long before the lower levels began to feel his touch, hordes of dark shadowy beings flooding into habs and working districts as his reach grew ever longer. But the clans were not going to suffer this, they fought back, hordes of gangers emerged from seemingly deserted sectors, slowly, they began to push back the shadow, beginning to reclaim the surface of their world.
But the power at the heart of the corruption was content to wait, to allow them to reach the very boundaries of his palace, before he struck. Ancient war traditions, remembered only by the clans over the centuries, were forgotten again in the face of his fury. As a gang leader Magar occupied a position at the forfront of the Alluvian forces, but as reports from the other forces ceased, each leader annihilated systematically, he knew he was next.
And so he was, a dark, shadowy figure confronted him, a long curved sword held in one hand. He attacked without warning and it was all Magar could do to stop his first three strikes, after those three his spear broke, cleft in twain by the force of his enemy. He cocked his head, and spoke, a voice that belonged not to one, but many, like the wind howling through a canyon, "strange, the others did not last nearly so long, but it is of no consequence." With that he raised his sword to strike, and Magar closed his eyes. But no death blow was forthcoming, he felt his wrist jolt, and opened his eyes. A long spear had appeared in his hands and stopped the blow.
The dark figure stumbled back, snarling, "no matter, I have slain keybearers before." He made to step forward, then vanished in an explosion of light. Magar was blown backwards, tumbling head over heels before finally coming to rest on his back, spear still clutched in his hand. Five figures, each bearing swords descended, the shadowy despoiler of Alluvium was surrounded by them and they advanced, slowly, inexorably, the fight hurt the eyes, energy escaping from blasts and blades moving to fast to follow.
Before long the five separated, nothing remained of their enemy but that curved blade, dark and evil looking in the centre of a scorched circle. One of them approached Magar and explained about the keyblades, the keybearers and the temples. Magar had no choice but to follow.
After a few months Magar could draw the blade from his soul on command, his fighting style had developed as his master trained him in the use of his Keyblade. It was not long before he was faced with a choice, responding to some call in his soul he chose the Dark path.
Keyblade: Magar's keyblade, Hellebore, is a long spear with a black haft. The blade resembles that of a sword and allows the bearer to cut and lunge with the weapon.
Magar's fighting style is built on that of his weapon, utilising long sweeps of the blade and swift lunges. As such it is most suited to fighting multiple opponents at once, the whirling, mobile fighting style ensuring that the user is never pinned in place long enough for them to take advantage of it's weaknesses. As such he is less effective against single opponents, although he often has longer reach than his opponent due to the extra length of the spear and can deal powerful blows due to it's momentum and weight. However, the size of the weapon and the unusual fighting style means he is at his most effective when fighting several enemies.
Temple of Darkness:
Vortex of Shadows:
The Keybearer unlocks a portal to the Realm of Darkness, which sucks any and all nearby into whatever grim fate may await them there. Though it holds no true peril for the Heartless, it is an effective means of quickly banishing them from the Realm of Light. The drawbacks however, are dire. No means of control exists, meaning even allies and the caster himself can succumb. Further, if control of the vortex is lost, it can actually allow more denizens of the dark to manifest.
The Keybearer focuses his hate and rage into a series of quick blasts of dark energy. These can be directed to a single target or dispersed across numerous foes. Each blast does small damage, but this technique is easy to use at a moments notice and easy to incorporate into sword combos. It is a favourite of beginners and veterans alike, but becomes of limited use against more resilient enemies.
Inducing himself with a rush of magic fuelled adrenalin, the Keybearer becomes a blur of flickering motion too fast for eyes to track. He unleashes a flurry of blows upon his opponent from seemingly all sides at once. Though this ability is definitely useful, it quickly exhausts stamina and thus cannot be overused.
Arguably the keyblade’s most powerful ability is to release captive hearts and scatter them to the dark. However, with the right mindset and enough strength, a Keybearer can also release the heart and soul from a still living being, effectively rendering them fodder for the heartless and the dark realm. Such a brutal act requires utter conviction and callousness, for to falter even momentarily will result in feedback and subsequently catastrophic damage. The Keybearer impales the victim on the tip of their blade, not a physical wound but rather a spiritual one in which the elements of mind heart and body are separated over the course of a few moments or sometimes even a minute if the individual is strong.
Last edited by Jackinator; 01-05-12 at 06:06 PM.