Spirits

[Anastasia]

Post the background of your spirits here whenever they're ready.

[Carthrat]

Haha, I changed my mind.

Name: Sacchin
Occupation: Vampire
Age: 25
Alignment: Chaotic Evil

Why didn't it work? She poured it in correctly. He wasn't supposed to die! He should've become like her! If that was going to happen, it would've been better if he'd killed her...

Yumizuka Satsuki, transformed into a vampire by force at just sixteen. Thank you, goodbye, happy normal life. Welcome to the night. Enjoy your stay. To live, she needed to kill, and it hurt, at first. But the pains of the spirit are nothing compared to what a literally dead heart feels; a constant need for sustenance. For nine years she lived as little more than a beast, lurking beneath the city and in dismal places and coming forth only to feed. Any moral qualms she had about almost anything faded long ago.

The Dark One sought the alliance of those like herself when he invaded, but Sacchin was beyond reason and slew his messangers; anyone who trespassed on her territory was a target. To the defenders of the world, she was a lethal trap. They lured their enemies to her, for she would kill indiscriminantly, feeding off 'friend' and foe alike.

Eventually she was killed, and that should have been that. But she got her mind back when she came to this fake afterlife. And it hurt, a lot, but she was used to getting hurt, and it no longer showed. An opportunity lay before her. Could she get a chance to live a life she could be happy with? But even if that's impossible, there should at least be a way to undo her mistake. And one way or the other, by now -

-she really is-

-a great killer...

[Corwin]

Let's use Rat's format, sure. And I didn't change my mind!

Name: Euphemia li Britannia, the third princess of the imperial Britannian family, aka Massacre Princess
Occupation: Sub-Viceroy of Area 11, in charge of the Special Administrative Zone of Japan
Age: 18
Alignment: Lawful Evil

So, there she was, a cheerful is somewhat naive Chaotic Good princess, trying to make life better for everyone by establishing the SAZ. Sure, she was alternately seen as either a doll princess or a rebellious one, but this was actually the first time she tried using her authority to make such a widespread change in people's lives. And then Lelouch hit her with the helm of opposite alignment.

It particularly grated on Euphemia that he did it by accident. How does that even happen? He happened to bring it along, then slipped, fell, and it landed on her head? But she wasn't really one to question that bizarre chain of events, as her life now had a new goal. Since so many Elevens had gathered in the SAZ, she clearly had the perfect opportunity for a little genocide~

Unfortunately, she was killed before she went through every Japanese in Area 11, but death in her home universe didn't actually mean much. People returned from it all the time, even when there wasn't a wizard to blame their miraculous recovery on. Thus, The Dark One's intervention annoyed her greatly. Sure, she was a bit slow in clawing her way back to life, but surely it was inevitable! And he had to come and take it all away from her. Killing all the Elevens was something that she had to do, after all.

Euphemia definitely has a lot to complain about once she makes her way through whatever stands between her and The Dark One.

[Dracos]

Name: Clyde Arrowny (Shadow)
Occupation: Mercenary.  Killer for Hire.
Age: 45.
Alignment: Chaotic Neutral

Redemption.  Not a word one expects to hear on the lips of a trained killer.  Not a word you'd ever hear from a man who has no past and lives as a shadow on the wind.

A thief.  A killer.  A traitor.  A man who lived by the vices of any who had the coin to pay for his services.  A man who drowned himself in his work, running from a past he only wished he could barely remember.  The face of a friend who he left to a fate worse than death.  The cry of a daughter he left behind.  Of a wife buried.

They were nobodies when he first met them.  A political group.  One of many.  Just a client, one among many.  Their money was good and that was all he cared about.  That they sought to end the Empire's territorial war was of no consequence.  When the Empire paid him to work alongside them, it was just business.  Even traveling through Thasama, which he never thought he'd see again.

Why did he join them?  Why did he turn on a client to help save them?  What .  There was still a limit to what he'd accept.  He had something he couldn't let them destroy.

He didn't expect to see her again.  She didn't recognize him.  Probably for the best.  He had a mission now.  Something to distract him again.  He needed to get stronger though.  He fought like a man possessed, seeking all challenges.

Eventually they came.  They remembered him from earlier.  They had the same goal.  To bring Kefka down from his throne, to ruin the god-king of the world and restore a world of peace.  Good versus Evil, but more importantly, a chance not to run from comrades in their time of trouble.  A chance to leave something worthwhile behind him.

It didn't matter much to the Dark One when he came across that ruined world and smashed it into pieces.  It didn't matter that it took months for everyone to die off with the air poisoned and the ground no longer capable of bearing food. 

To a man who watched redemption snatched from his hands and his own daughter dead, it meant everything.  He was long familiar with patience. 

Rough, I got to stop

[Ebiris]

Name: Lord Flasheart
Occupation: Lord of Abyssinia, Viceroy of Babylon, Knight of the Grand Imperial Order, God of the Micronesian Island Peoples, Admiral of the Pacific Protectorate Fleet, Commander of the Holy Wardens of Jerusalem, Adventurer extraordinaire.
Age: 38
Alignment: Chaotic Neutral

The realm stretched across the globe, vast swathes of territory daubed in her Majesty's pink. When courtiers described it as an Empire upon which the sun never set, they were speaking entirely literally. But although much of the globe was owned by the Empire, still much of its own holdings remained unexplored - dark and mysterious places where a stalwart adventurer might test himself against the elements, pit wits and match brawn with wild and uncouth savages, and perhaps bring the light of civilisation to such neglected corners of the world.

Lord Flasheart was one such adventurer. Perhaps the greatest of them all. A darling of the court whenever he graced the busy capital with his presence, he was renowned for stirring up trouble wherever he went, leaving women with their hearts aflutter and men suitably chastised with the knowledge that he was their superior in every way. Indeed, many a jealous noble would seek to end his life with the hidden blade in the back, yet always they found themselves thwarted and invariably humiliated - for with the fawning favour of the Queen, Lord Flasheart could well do as he pleased, and take what (and whom) he liked.

Alas, not even the mightiest Empire in the history of the world could stand against the Dark One when he came. Their navy was impotent against the terrible flying beasts that blotted out the sky, their army no match for the spectral hordes and titanic juggernaughts of flesh and bone. All seemed lost, and indeed was, with even the great Lord Flasheart unable to stop the reckoning to come. Nonetheless, he died as he lived, drunk and in bed with the Queen, Crown Princess, and several of their most nubile handmaidens, when the capital was abruptly seared from the face of the earth in a display of the Dark One's power using a strange variant of what on other worlds would have been identified as an innocuous divination spell.

[VySaika]

Name: Ranmaru Mori
Occupation: Bodyguard, Officer of Wu.
Age: 24
Alignment: Lawful Neutral

Some called him loyalty incarnate, a man who would stand before his lord and sheild him from any harm. Twice the world was thrust into mortal peril by the rise of the Serpent King, and twice did one man prove that he could not be bested. Masamune Date, Keiji Maeda, even the dread Lu Bu could not break down the iron wall that was Ranmaru Mori. And when his lord Sun Ce stood face to face with the demon Orochi himself, Ranmaru was by his side both times.

In the chaos that inevitably followed Orochi's demise, Ranmaru continued to prove himself indespensible. Masamune and Da Ji could never seem to be captured, and they continued to plague the peace of the land alongside petty tyrants like Dong Zhou. Even after Orochi's final defeat, the kingdom of Wu could seem to find no lasting peace, only the occasional brief respite from the fighting. Little did they know that the peace they craved was never to be thiers.

The darkness came slowly, and many at first feared that it was a second return of the Serpent King, and that he would be even more powerful then before. The truth of the matter was much, much worse. Demons, TRUE demons and not the mere serpent men and ogres that had come before were appearing accross the land. No matter how many were killed, there was no end to their advance. Like mindless beasts from a nightmare they marched on, stepping on and over the bodies of the fallen, demon and human alike. The armies of men, united once more, were driven back to thier strongholds.

But the worst was yet to come, for until then, HE had not appeared. Once humanity was trapped in thier castles, their last bastions of defense, HE arrived. Moving from stronghold to stronghold, he slowly wiped out the bravest warriors the world had ever known. Eventually he made his way to the castle that Sun Jian had claimed for his own, and crushed the men of Wu without effort.

Ranmaru saw his comrades die. He himself was effortlessly brushed aside by the Dark One, and watched as his lord Sun Ce was brutally broken before his very eyes. As death finally overtook him, he could only feel a burning anger at his own helplessness.

But now, in this strange afterlife, he has another chance. He will confront the Dark One and save his lord, and all of Wu, or die trying.

-------------------

Here's a picture of Ranmaru, to explain the gender confused description~

http://i233.photobucket.com/albums/ee98/tensaimove/Samurai%20Warriors/RanmaruMoriCG.jpg

[Merc]

Name: Varian Goldrinn
Occupation: Bounty hunter, former soldier.
Age: 26
Alignment: Neutral Good

He had been a promising soldier to the kingdom of Gallia, driven and ambitious. His family had once been amongst those counted in the echelons of the kingdom's nobility, until his great-greatgrandfather's time, when their rank was lost due to a conflict with the king of the time. Their family had been seeking to regain their rank ever since, and young Varian had so far come closest, having already gained the attention of many nobles due to his youth and power.

Ironically, while already approached under the promise of a restoration of their family's title, wealth, or even the hand in marriage with some of the beauties of the court, Varian was seemingly uninterested, more driven simply by a desire to be strong, and to protect his kingdom. That the political setting was quite unstable, however, might have had much to do with his strong reservations.

The royalty appeared very splintered, and many an assassination attempt (and success as well, to be frighteningly fair) seemed to occur almost daily. Seeing the eyes of those ambitious nobles did nothing but dim his own ambitious eyes and make him uncomfortable, leaving him with a restrained desire to rub his neck, as if checking for an imaginary noose.

Unfortunately, while he could manage to placate the nobles with platitudes and honeyed words, it became increasingly harder as he continued to progress up the ranks of the military. While some ambition he could restrain under the pretense of caution for his life, not all flames within him would the young soldier extinguish. Or so he thought, until the day he was granted the title of "Stormwind" for his elemental affinity for wind, along wth his rank as a square mage.

This, unfortunately, was due to the fact that the title and rank gained him the much unwanted attention of the second in line to the throne, Prince Joseph. Well known for his cold-blooded attitude, and quietly suspected as the reason for much of the unrest amongst the nobles, the man's reputation alone would send bells ringing in the head of any man with any tiny amount of wisdom. After actually meeting with the man, however, Varian wished nothing less than to be as far away from the prince as possible.

If nothing else, he could be certain that sooner or later he would find his head in the grave if he remained. Thank you, but no. At least if he left, he might not insult the prince. Muchly. Perhaps just a few assassins?

Six years after resigning his commission and earning his home and meals simply through bounties, Varian could only muse that the prince seemed to take refusals quite personally, but if nothing else, capturing would-be assassins certainly paid well. Unfortunately, where the prince failed, something far darker succeeded. Kingdom after kingdom fell to the Dark One. First the large militant Germania, then the mecha of magic Tristain, and now even Gallia. About the only consolation when he fell, his body hanging limp and bleeding atop the ruins of a house, was that he died before Gallia itself was overtaken. Except, he's not really dead now is he? Everything he knew was gone, even that small worthless consolation, all that's left is this joke of a game that was the afterlife. Well, he could play for now, until he could avenge his people, perhaps.

[Anastasia]

These all look good. If you want to make any last minute changes after this post, poke me so I'm aware of it. Thanks.

[VySaika]

Attached a picture of Ranmaru to my post, since I like pictures~