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[Verideathul]

AlexanderXHemsworth

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【.main info.】


❖ f u l l n a m e: Alexander Brian Hemsworth

❖ n i c k n a m e s: Alex

❖ a g e: 45

❖ b i r t h d a t e: 2/25

❖ g e n d e r: Male

❖ n a t i o n a l i t y: Wormwood Swamp

❖ r a n k: Journeyman

❖ c l a s s: Cleric

❖ Religion:Tyral

❖ f a c t i o n: Swords of Salvation (Informal Faction, no benefits)

❖ t i t l e: Father, Knight of Wormwood, Knight of the Swords of Salvation

❖ b l o o d l i n e: Insignis

❖ s p e e d: 7

❖ s t r e n g t h: 3

❖ p l a y e d b y: Verideathul

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【.major info.】


❖ e n e r g y c o l o r: Various shades of blue

❖ e n e r g y r e s e r v e: 1600

❖ e l e m e n t: Air

❖ b a t t l e s t r e n g t h: Great healer, efficient versus Dark Beings, potential for massive power pool capacity

❖ b a t t l e w e a k n e s s: Takes higher damage physically, leaks mana if his tattoo is hit

❖ t a l e n t:

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【.equipment info.】



❖ w e a p o n (s): Zealous Morning Star (Sending in an app soon)

❖ a r m o r: Cleric’s robe (Medium armor, thin chainmail underneath light robe)


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【.skill roster.】

Element

-Cycling Blast

-Feather

-Cloud Form

Bloodline

-Mana Draw

-Mental Blockade: Passive

-Bolt of Magic

-Augment Weapon

Class

-Cure Poison

-Heal

-Bolt of Judgement

-Sense Darkness: Passive

-Blessing of Energy

-Self Heal

-Divine Justice

-Divine Shield

-Blessing of Strength

-Blessing of Speed

-Flicker of Light

-Holy Light

-Banish Fear

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【.character description.】


❖ p e r s o n a l i t y: Arrogant, slightly perverted, hardass.

❖ q u o t e:

❖ h e i g h t: 6’1

❖ w e i g h t: 200

❖ e y e c o l o r: Blue

❖ p l a c e o f b i r t h: Wormwood Swamp

❖ t h e m e s o n g:

❖ b a t t l e t h e m e:
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【.background information.】

The True History of the Insignis Father Alexander , as journaled by the Cleric and sealed in a book on his person, written in the code of the Insignis, which cannot be identified by any other race.
Journal log, age 15, 25th day of the 2nd month: Today I was brought forward by my father into a strange room that he had kept hidden from me for all these years, tucked away behind a painting on our wall. Symbols were kept everywhere as my dad hobbled over to a desk and opened up an assortment of potions. He handed them to me hastily, ordered me to drink up quickly and then strip down, much to my surprise and not at all to my liking. My dad certainly was not Therina, nor any other crush of mine that I’d ever want to strip for. None the less, knowing my father to be a wise and holy man of Tyral, in the manner he brought me up…I did as he asked before he walked over and placed his hands on my shoulders. He asked me to think up of an image of a tattoo... The weirdest part of it all was that despite all the girls, all the names, all the images... I thought of Tyral and his symbol. I needed guidance, I needed help as I felt my father’s despair for some odd reason, and the god was the only one I had been taught to believe in to this point. My body felt dulled pain and pressure, my human nature being forced out not through my own devices, or possibly even my will as all of this was too sudden.

The only thing I remember after all the pain was waking up alone in the room, with a strange man guarding the entrance to the door. He welcomed me into a brotherhood of sorts, and promptly proceeded to tell me of how my father broke the code and was killed before telling me the same code and what I had become, along with the history of the Insignis. Standing up and feeling woozy, my gaze turned to my arm, beholding an image of a flawless arm wrapped in sunfire just as it was the god's symbol. I began to realize just what the potions were for, dulling the pain as both a new strength and weakness was etched into my flesh, whether by magic or by physical means.

I walked upstairs after clothing myself, and was promptly told to enter this all into a journal and to keep a journal of significant events by both my mother and the stranger Insignis. I was taught how to suppress people’s abilities to read my mind today as per the code rules. Before this, I had no responsibilities…stealing, chasing young women, and shirking my chores, school, and church yet unable to escape the teachings at home etched into my mind in the ways of Tyral’s wisdom and a high vocabulary. The world was mine, for those who sought salvation came to my father, and my father’s father…and they came to me, looking to kiss up for the singular sake of salvation, kind of just like I did…This is all too much for one to take in, I fear….and now I’m being told that it’s time for my priesthood training to begin as well, thrown into the family line just to become another person that people suck up to in this small town that matters nothing in the long run. Happy birthday, me…

Journal log, age 25, 12th day of the 12th month: The priesthood’s been very busy today, scores of sick people coming in with a poison flowing through their veins…a poison that was similar to the effects that I had earlier today, and even with all of our combined Cleric efforts, my own weak powers coming into play, there are simply not enough cures to go around. A crapload of children died today along with some young women and men, and I saw a fallen working beside our kind, and even the mere humans themselves, none of them knowing of my true nature or being. Even with my increased power, my energy ran out today in attempts to heal the living, and keep those who are now dead from passing away. My current power itself might be greater than these other insignificant humans that teach me so slow that I cannot stand it…so I pledged myself to an individual instead of priesthood, and have begun to roam around with him…Valerous Sunshield. With his expertise and knowledge of Tyral, I should be on my way to power in no time at all in my divine quest. And hey…marching around seeing the beauties of the world far outmatches that of praying that the same hot young girls come in every day to confess me their sins, and that doesn’t even go to mention that a good many of those beauties died today…

Journal log, age 45, 3rd day of the 1st month: I was made a Knight today, having travelled far and wide in the name of Tyral and following Valerous Sunshield. The ceremony was beautiful, people lined up as I was heralded as a true Knight of the Swords of Salvation. The praises lavished upon me were exquisite as I waved to the crowd, glorying in women who gave me various looks, especially that of disgust... Nothing like a good reason to make a pretty woman confess later on, although I will have to show more restraint and just watch on for the most part during the beatings. Although one might argue that my life has gotten back into a natural cycle, I’d say that between the women, killing the heretics, and saving lives of the Swords of Salvation make for a damned varying day, and one better than that of any of these peasants that we take into our numbers or kill. Every day it’s a new person, new condemned soul, new village to be cleared out….but there’s a bigger, better nation to be purged by the Swords of Salvation: The Wormwood Swamp. My powers have finally grown, but I want more…always desiring more as I kick the unfaithful off of the cliffs, or smash them with a hammer, or anything else that Lord Tyral and his faithful servant Valerous would have me do. This is our territory now, wherever the Swords of Salvation and our armies march. I have to admit, on a side note…I look pretty damn good for my age, considering that those lowly humans have grown gray hairs and other signs of old age by now…it’s funny that I can still call myself older, more experienced, AND talk down to them now….I love my life.

Fabricated story outline by Father Alexander

Taken and tortured by a warlock along with one of his friends, Alexis, who died during the escape. He had a tattoo of a cross placed on his skin to keep track of energy records in the warlock’s sadistic experiments. After his escape, he joined the local priesthood and became a Cleric before the tragedy and meeting Valerous – the rest of the history is as true.

(Tl;dr) He has a tattoo on his inner right arm that is an image of a flawless arm engulfed in sunfire.