Post by Onslaught on Oct 16, 2004 14:43:14 GMT
Onslaught's Path:
- The Path To Wolfenden: The Onslaught Cometh
- The Wolf's Howl Inn: Some Time To Kill
[ModNote: links added.]
*Technosorcery - the masterful fusion of base minerals and arcane magic - has been known and feared throughout the realm of Wolfenden ever since The Opposition came to power. Under the twisted genius of Lord Fear, scores of adventurers, drifters and villagers have perished by devices wrought from this most skilled of magical disciplines. From the sentient horror of the Dreadnort to the dreaded Corridor Of Blades, The Opposition have used technosorcery to maintain their iron hold on the darkest corners of the realm. And yet, unknown to most, the tyrant Fear is not the only master sorcerer to have dabbled in these arts. Out in the wastelands beyond Wolfenden, beyond the boundaries of even The Opposition's influence, many rogue clans and guilds of magicians have experimented with technosorcery, attempting to turn this most difficult of disciplines to their own ends, for good or ill.*
*Now, into the shadows of Wolfenden comes an individual born of such research.*
*He was a hunter once, and good one at that, making his living by selling game and associated by-products before meeting his mortal end at the claws of wolves. Left savaged in the mountains, somewhere between life and death, his body was recovered by a shadowy clan of magicians who set about using him in their technosorcerous surgical experiments. His right arm, all but lost, was replaced with a sorcerous metallic equivalent that, while only adding a moderate increase above mortal strength, is practically indestructible by any physical or magical means, and can also be modified at the will of its owner to form simple metal shapes such as shields, bars, knives and so on. The wizards also saw fit to repair the damage done to his right eye by augmenting it with sorcerous implants, granting enhanced vision in low-light conditions. Suitably equipped, the hunter became the man-hunter, sent out by those who had saved his life to strike down rival guilds and extend their own sphere of influence. It was a role in which he certainly excelled. The wizards christened him Onslaught as a celebration of his murderous skill - a name which he retains to this day, the memories of his former identity almost totally suppressed by the unpredictable side-effects of his sorcerous augmentations.*
*Time passed, and The Opposition's influence grew further, dispersing the fringe clans and forcing Onslaught to strike out on his own for the first time. With no allegiance remaining, he has come to Wolfenden under the pretext of seeking employment, and of finding a place where his 'talents' will be deployed effectively. But there is another, more pressing matter which underpins everything he does. The technosorcery within him was created by magicians who knew little of its long-term effects, and as a result the fusion between his mortal body and the magical elements is fundamentally flawed. The sorcery which binds the two is slowly unravelling, and with the passing of time it creeps further and further into his own being, erasing the very fabric of his humanity. Onslaught knows this all too well - he can feel it growing, cancerous inside him, spreading through his system, and although there are no physical detriments as a result of this process, he knows that one day he will cease to be human, becoming a mere sorcerous shell. He hopes that in Wolfenden, he may find a way of slowing the process down, or perhaps even halting it for good.*
*Onslaught stands over six foot tall, of slim muscular build. His face is lean, but not altogether fierce-looking. His cropped hair reveals a scar across his forehead sustained prior to the end of his old life. The scar runs down to his eye, which is the only betrayal of the 'work' done on it, save for a reddish tint in the iris. He tends to wear a long-sleeved surcoat to spare curious folk the sight of his right shoulder, which is covered in thick bands of scars where his torso meets his uniquely styled arm. The arm itself lookes much like a human arm, but is of course moulded enirely from a glistening silver-like metal. He has a dagger fixed either side of his waistbelt for protection, and keeps his other posessions and tools in his knapsack.*
*Onslaught has arrived in Wolfenden. His search for relief from the speeding passage of time begins here.*
*Get ready.*
- The Path To Wolfenden: The Onslaught Cometh
- The Wolf's Howl Inn: Some Time To Kill
[ModNote: links added.]
*Technosorcery - the masterful fusion of base minerals and arcane magic - has been known and feared throughout the realm of Wolfenden ever since The Opposition came to power. Under the twisted genius of Lord Fear, scores of adventurers, drifters and villagers have perished by devices wrought from this most skilled of magical disciplines. From the sentient horror of the Dreadnort to the dreaded Corridor Of Blades, The Opposition have used technosorcery to maintain their iron hold on the darkest corners of the realm. And yet, unknown to most, the tyrant Fear is not the only master sorcerer to have dabbled in these arts. Out in the wastelands beyond Wolfenden, beyond the boundaries of even The Opposition's influence, many rogue clans and guilds of magicians have experimented with technosorcery, attempting to turn this most difficult of disciplines to their own ends, for good or ill.*
*Now, into the shadows of Wolfenden comes an individual born of such research.*
*He was a hunter once, and good one at that, making his living by selling game and associated by-products before meeting his mortal end at the claws of wolves. Left savaged in the mountains, somewhere between life and death, his body was recovered by a shadowy clan of magicians who set about using him in their technosorcerous surgical experiments. His right arm, all but lost, was replaced with a sorcerous metallic equivalent that, while only adding a moderate increase above mortal strength, is practically indestructible by any physical or magical means, and can also be modified at the will of its owner to form simple metal shapes such as shields, bars, knives and so on. The wizards also saw fit to repair the damage done to his right eye by augmenting it with sorcerous implants, granting enhanced vision in low-light conditions. Suitably equipped, the hunter became the man-hunter, sent out by those who had saved his life to strike down rival guilds and extend their own sphere of influence. It was a role in which he certainly excelled. The wizards christened him Onslaught as a celebration of his murderous skill - a name which he retains to this day, the memories of his former identity almost totally suppressed by the unpredictable side-effects of his sorcerous augmentations.*
*Time passed, and The Opposition's influence grew further, dispersing the fringe clans and forcing Onslaught to strike out on his own for the first time. With no allegiance remaining, he has come to Wolfenden under the pretext of seeking employment, and of finding a place where his 'talents' will be deployed effectively. But there is another, more pressing matter which underpins everything he does. The technosorcery within him was created by magicians who knew little of its long-term effects, and as a result the fusion between his mortal body and the magical elements is fundamentally flawed. The sorcery which binds the two is slowly unravelling, and with the passing of time it creeps further and further into his own being, erasing the very fabric of his humanity. Onslaught knows this all too well - he can feel it growing, cancerous inside him, spreading through his system, and although there are no physical detriments as a result of this process, he knows that one day he will cease to be human, becoming a mere sorcerous shell. He hopes that in Wolfenden, he may find a way of slowing the process down, or perhaps even halting it for good.*
*Onslaught stands over six foot tall, of slim muscular build. His face is lean, but not altogether fierce-looking. His cropped hair reveals a scar across his forehead sustained prior to the end of his old life. The scar runs down to his eye, which is the only betrayal of the 'work' done on it, save for a reddish tint in the iris. He tends to wear a long-sleeved surcoat to spare curious folk the sight of his right shoulder, which is covered in thick bands of scars where his torso meets his uniquely styled arm. The arm itself lookes much like a human arm, but is of course moulded enirely from a glistening silver-like metal. He has a dagger fixed either side of his waistbelt for protection, and keeps his other posessions and tools in his knapsack.*
*Onslaught has arrived in Wolfenden. His search for relief from the speeding passage of time begins here.*
*Get ready.*
