| profile |
Ivald |
| favorite quote: |
"My name will resound through the centuries." |
| class: |
firefighter |
| created: |
oct. 2/05 |
| joined ...AXES HIGH.: |
oct. 11/05 |
| times died: |
1 |
| level: |
15 (18) |
| XP: |
375 |
skills:
|
Hand-to-Hand Combat |
| . |
(+15% to melee attacks)
- Knife Combat
(An extra +15% when attacking with a knife)
- Axe Proficiency
(An extra +15% when attacking with an axe) |
|
Free Running |
| . |
(Can move between adjacent buildings without stepping outside) |
|
NecroTech Employment |
| . |
(Player is able to operate DNA Extractors, and can identify NecroTech offices from the street)
- Lab Experience
(Can recognise and operate basic-level NecroTech equipment) |
|
First Aid |
| . |
(Player is able to heal an extra 5HP when using a first-aid kit)
- Surgery
(Player can heal a further 5HP if working in a hospital with power) |
|
Diagnosis |
| . |
(The HP values of nearby survivors are displayed next to their name) |
|
Shopping |
| . |
(Player may choose which stores to loot, when searching a mall)
- Bargain Hunting
(Player is 25% more likely to find something when searching a mall) |
|
Body Building |
| . |
(Player has a maximum of 60 Hit Points instead of 50) |
|
Tagging |
| . |
(Player's spraycans last longer. XP bonuses are awarded for tagging certain buildings) |
|
Construction |
| . |
(Player is able to barricade buildings) |
|
Headshot |
| . |
(If you kill a zombie, it loses 10XP for each level it had. It retains its skills) |
|
| age: |
39 |
| sex: |
male |
| favored weapon: |
fireaxe |
| zombies killed: |
25 |
| survivors revivified: |
7 |
description:
~~~Then to the gods crowed Gollinkambi,
He wakes the heroes in Othin's hall;
And beneath the earth does another crow,
The rust-red bird at the bars of Hel.
Now Garm howls loud before Gnipahellir,
The fetters will burst, and the wolf run free;
Much do I know, and more can see
Of the fate of the gods, the mighty in fight.
Brothers shall fight and fell each other,
And sisters' sons shall kinship stain;
Hard is it on earth, with mighty whoredom;
Axe-time, sword-time, shields are sundered,
Wind-time, wolf-time, ere the world falls;
Nor ever shall men each other spare.
Fast move the sons of Mim, and fate
Is heard in the note of the Gjallarhorn;
Loud blows Heimdall, the horn is aloft,
In fear quake all who on Hel-roads are.
... .... ...
O'er the sea from the north there sails a ship
With the people of Hel, at the helm stands Loki;
After the wolf do wild men follow,
And with them the brother of Byleist goes.
Surt fares from the south with the scourge of branches,
The sun of the battle-gods shone from his sword;
The crags are sundered, the giant-women sink,
The dead throng Hel-way, and heaven is cloven.~~~
-=-=-=-
The man once known as James Thorne was always viewed
as an oddity by his brigade- he was a good
firefighter, sure, but something about him set him
apart. Perhaps it was the sense of aloofness that he
held around his person. Maybe it was because he held
solitude around himself like one would a cloak. It
might even be his strange love of his job.
Oftentimes, when battling a major fire, he would
remark almost casually that he..
"Almost feels like he was born for this".
Almost being the operative word.
In truth, James always had some sort of nagging
discontent in him that drove the others of his brigade
from him. James was discontent with himself. He was
in a constant state of depression; and with time, he
began to slowly waste away. Those who approached him
were quickly rebuffed.
What could James tell them
when he didn't know his own problem?
James, it seemed, was not fulfilling his purpose.
Then the call came: the fateful call. The sirens in
the station crowed, and James' brigade leader reported
that they had a riot to help stop. Their engines
would use the hoses to help control the rioters.
James quickly grabbed his gear and jumped in the
truck. As they charged for the riot, something in
James began to take seed. The firetruck driver
blasted his horn to clear the rioters from the street.
It was no riot. Though James' brigade used their
firehoses effectively, the hordes of what turned out
to be zombies were too numerous. The brigade calmly
held their positions, but one by one they were chewed
to pieces. Zombies began to close from all sides.
The hoses weren't enough. The Dead crowded into James
and the last remaining members of his brigade, and
then... the seed took root.
Something snapped in him.
This is what he was waiting for, after all of this
time. The gates of Hell opened in Malton and the dead
thronged. He was born for THIS moment; it was HIS
time, and he knew what to do. James reached back and
grabbed his axe, shining red and metal on the side of
the truck. And, at long last, he knew his name again.
Ivald whipped his axe forward and smashed a zombie's
head in with a single skilled blow, smattering brains
over a wide area. A fluid swipe cleanly decapitated a
second zombie; and so, with skill born from hundreds
battles over hundreds of years, Ivald hacked his way
through the mob and escaped. Though he considered
staying his ground, he knew that he couldn't serve
Malton by dying: every day he lived was another day
of dispatching them. |
|
"May God have mercy upon my enemies, because I won't."
~General George Patton Jr |
OOC information:
player:
Arjay Romanowski
urbandead forum ID:
Vincent Claybourne
email:
balnoir@yahoo.com
AIM:
agnoscoaequitas
|
