Sigdrifumal "Sig" Braene Rakoris

Name: Sigdrifumal "Sig" Braene Rakoris

Age: 20

True age: 86

Sex: Male

Personality: Sig is a rather reasonable person, to those who don't fight his reason. He listens to the arguments of others and dismisses them as the pure ramblings of mad men, or just unintelligible words to be glossed over at the soonest convenience. The only time he ever gets over his arrogant view point is when he clearly knows he needs to be serious about a situation, otherwise it's free reign for him to be a smart ass and a prick. The only people he's always serious with are those who are his higher ups, obviously stronger than himself or evenly matched enough to keep him on his heels, then he takes everything serious enough to not joke around. 

Sigdrifumal, albeit a heanta, tries his best to surround himself with others to protect his own hide. Trying to play a political power struggle, figuratively and literally at times, to surround himself with other heanta he considers strong, a neutral ground between them to see who has the rights to be the leader between them. This likeness to compassion and comradery lets Sig find ways to become friends with the other Heanta, or understanding violent creatures. While his blood lust, violent tendencies, and innate nature tell him to be the leader he understands that with other heanta only the strongest or wisest of them will lead, thus being second isn't that bad of a position with a target so well painted across the leaders back.

The thought process of his native being tells him that the strong should crush the weak. Yet he understands what it means to not suppress the weak, that the weak hold a much greater power then the strong. He also knows what it means to allow someone weaker than him lead, no matter how much it hurts his pride he knows when to allow it to remain safe from danger, and not be a target. Yet pride its self to Sig is an important thing and not to be taken lightly, he values what others think about him. He wants to be known as a powerful being that knows how to treat those below him with respect yet rules them properly, even if he's just a puppet being controlled by his own primal urges to control them and treat those beneath him strictly, brutally to a fault, but with a hint of kindness behind his actions.

Sigdrifumal for a heanta is rather kind to those around him. Viewing them both as opportunities, and threats for opening up to them. He views the children of the heanta as uncorrupted minds, simply lead by an uncontrollable urge to fight, to grow, and be considered unstoppable with limitless dreams. Those outside the racial barriers of the heanta are spared almost no prejudice, each is treated equally in his eyes when his rage kicks in. Maggots, weaklings, cowards, sport, and in the odd cases he finds the urge, food. To the other races this pure hatred, this prejudice that boiled within his veins from birth and was only heightened by the gaining of his demon matrix makes him seem so very cold, a stoic, calm, poised killer prepared to jump upon his next prey to the other races, cause how else would he survive?

When it comes to fighting Sig is rather... generous, or is it calculated? He doesn't push his fights too much, enjoying to stretch out a fight for as long as he can. Be it from talking or from torturing his prey. Yet on occasion when he is completely disgusted with the person before him that he is fighting he will end their life quickly and without mercy, wanting to erase them from history. He himself enjoys taking things slowly, considering it a beauty to see one's own blood flowing freely, own flesh being rendered from their body, and listening to bones snap and crack. Sig also knows when not to drag out a down hill battle, he knows to try his best to end it quickly and without games when the pain he endures is close to reaching its breaking point or to retreat like an injured animal, tail between their legs and injured pride only fueling his hatred more.

 Likes: Ambition, Clouds, Sweet aromas

 Dislikes: Lighting, The cold, Water

Fears: Hypothermia, betrayal, and being eaten

Height: 7'8" or 233 cm

weight: 260 lb or 118 kg

Appearance: The charcoal stained olive skin of Sig's gives off the appearance of one who hasn't showered in years, although he has. With charcoal black hair to match coming down to his shoulders with bangs trimmed just to the middle of the eyes. His eyes however are one of the two most distinctive features of his appearance, seeming like two blazing, vibrant rubies hidden behind the messy unkempt hair. The next most crowd catching display is his demon matrix, from base to tip each point of the crystals jutting from his shoulder blades are approximately six inches in length. The half mantle of crystals when in use all seem to flare to life as fiery oranges and reds skip across their surface. Among the mess of hair also rest two, four inch horns, the bone spiraling up like that of a gazelle's horns. Moving from his face, the body is riddled with scars from previous fights, muscle toned, but not a burden. With thick meaty fingers meant for the cruelty and viciousness that his race was common for, and legs nearly as thick as tree stumps.

clothing: Around the neck, and down the collarbone, Sig wears an orange and yellow scarf, the entirety of it seeming as if it were a lit due to the colors shifting on perspective with him. Due to his marriage agreement his wardrobe expanded immensely from just a simple dark blue, ash coasted and seared, sleeveless vest, and a vibrant tan shirt. He began to wear flashier outfits, a penguin coat, with golden threads wrapped around the buttons to keep it firmly affixed to his chest, the colors matching that of his original vest and shirt. Perhaps he chooses to be more formal with his appearance, he dons the clothes of an onmyoji, a shoulder-less garb with sleeves reaching his wrist. In almost every choice of wardrobe there's one strange thing, while most of his attire is ash coated or burnt in various places, he wears a pair of perfectly white, almost like freshly fallen snow, pants. A small note on the side for any truly interested, all of his clothes have an aroma too them, that of sweet spices, of a candy, cinnamon.

General Fighting Tactics: A brawler at heart, Sig gauges his enemy in the beginning of their fight, never putting his full strength behind a blow unless they've proven to already be a decent threat. Stretching out the fight allows him to relieve the aches and sores in his body through rigorous, and calculated motions. His entire life filled with fighting led to such a relaxant. This gauging, becomes more toying with his enemy as the fight continues on, and if forced to he will suck up his own berserker's rage and pride to retreat to safety. This, cocky and greater than thou attitude gets him into a number of messes that he typically can't always handle. 

However, while he may pick fights not worth fighting, it doesn't mean that Sig backs down easily. Fighting within close range with explosive bursts of power from his demon matrix and the flames that roar around his fists he can be a terrifying sight. Never truly trained in any martial arts though his style is that of a boxer, always keeping an arm in close to protect what's most vital. In the cases that blood lust or rage cloud his mind red, he loses his sense of need for protection, becoming much more violent with grapples and blows towards much more vital areas.

Strength ||Very Good

Speed ||Fair

Agility ||  Fair

Durability || Average

Stamina || Good

Magical power || Fair

Strengths: Grappling, Pain resistance, mild resistance to fire 25%. 

Weaknesses: Susceptible to Ice/Cold 25%, Out ranged, Weak to Poisons (Poisons work a post faster)

Primary Weapon: Imitation Drakna made from excess crystal from the demon matrix Sigdrifumal took. These imitations provide the same protections as normal Drakna with a fire resistant leather with 4 small shards of the demon matrix placed within to channel his power to his palms. Where metal blades would be placed, Sigdrifumal's are replaced once again with pieces of demon matrix into two blades on either side of the weapon.

secondary weapon: While Sig is primarily a brawler, he learned how to wield the Kukri knife as a back up weapon. The foot long curved blade definitely helps extend his reach when he must but he see's the nearly perfect untarnished steel as a weakness to himself. The roughly foot long blade curves inward towards the end, across the blades steel is a story etched into it of a raging oni like creature, and along the hilt of the blade are eight notches. Each of these notches signifies someone that he had to put down with the blade due to being worthy fighters. 

Demon Matrix Appearance: His demon matrix, from base to tip each point of the crystals jutting from his shoulder blades are approximately six inches in length. The half mantle of crystals when in use all seem to flare to life as fiery oranges and reds skip across their surface.

Name: Boiling Blood, 2PP

Type: Passive, Requires one post of activation, one post to initiate.

Damage Category: Exhaustion based/Weakening

Description: During combat, the passive ability begins immediately upon Sigdrifumal entering combat through an adrenaline response. Any blood spilled seems to begin to immediately start bubbling until vanishing into a fine vapor making it difficult to track him when in a flight response. While the inward effects of the ability are most notable at first glance the true power of the ability lies within the heat he throws off altogether.

In an extended fight with Sigdrifumal the temperature of the area will slowly increase depending on the abilities used around him. Against another user of fire or heat based techniques they would likely go without noticing any affects, users of ice abilities will notice less firepower behind their spells, however the use of water or ice abilities will negate the outward effects of boiling blood. During combat the heat thrown off will slowly sap the energy from his opponents, creating a war of attrition. 

Poor Stamina - 6 posts until exhaustion

Fair Stamina - 7 posts until exhaustion

Average Stamina - 8 posts until exhaustion

Good Stamina - 9 posts until exhaustion

Very Good Stamina - 10 posts until exhaustion

Excellent Stamina - 11 posts until exhaustion

Amazing Stamina - 12 posts until exhaustion

Transcendent Stamina - 13 posts until exhaustion

Cooldown: 5 post cool down once out of combat, duration last during all of combat and falls off after 2 turns of being out of combat.

Name: Fiery Vanguard, 2PP

Type: Defensive

Damage Category: -

Description: Ethereal like flames curl around Sigdrifumal's body seeming to phase in and out of view as raging flames or a simple heat wave surrounding him. When in view the flames appear to be making an ornate armor across his body capable of nullifying up to ten very weak ice/water/cold abilities a post, or a single weak ice/water/cold ability, while only being able to block up to 5 very weak abilities from other types of damage, or half of one weak ability. If the damage exceeds a weak attack it'll reduce up to the shields amount before letting through the rest of the damage. These flames have no outwardly offensive abilities and touching them with a bare hand does not confer heat. Fiery Vanguard can only block abilities for 1 post after activation before vanishing and going on cooldown itself.

Cooldown: 2

Name: Scorched Earth 4PP, 1pp per charge post, 2pp on activation

Type: Offensive

Damage Category: By pouring magical energy into the ground beneath him in a circular diameter of 8 feet Sig creates a quite literal scorched earth that begins to slowly build up within the area. After 2 posts of charging the ground begins to visibly show cracks teeming with fiery energy before erupting on the third post for strong damage to anyone within the circle besides Sig, who takes weak damage if he's still within the circle when it explodes. The circle itself takes priority at the beginning of the third post to explode. 

Cooldown: 4 after detonation

Name: Searing Chains 2PP

Type: Offensive Support

Damage Category: Weak

Description: Sig builds up energy within his hands in the form of a flaming sickle connected to his palm by a flaming chain of magic. This flaming chain allows for Sig to swing the sickle blade out to a short distance of 6 feet. Upon contact with an enemy the sickle blade will dig into the enemy without causing any immediate damage before vanishing entirely into a flaming chain connecting Sig and his opponent together. At this point the chains can reach upwards of 8 feet over all before breaking and last for 2 turns. During this time he is capable of grabbing the chain once per post turning the chain in his palm physical to yank his opponents towards him if their light enough, or unable to resist. If an opponent leaves the 6 foot range the chain detaches from Sig and rapidly reels in towards the opponent to explode for the force of a single weak spell. If Sig is the person to retreat from the 6 feet the chains reel back on him instead dealing very weak damage to him. At most he can have one chain connected to each of his palms. If he cannot hit an opponent with the sickle to anchor the chain Sig may choose to target an object or terrain to anchor the other of the chain to.

Cooldown: 2 post cooldown after detonation, 1 post grace period between activation on either palm.

History: Sigdrifumal found himself in a poor state in life. Born to parents neither slave or elite his life was destined to be one filled with turmoil. With the exploits of clan hornless told to him from a young age during his brutal training to become part of the warrior ranks of Clan Rakoris he was fascinated with the knowledge of what Ren had accomplished. The mere knowledge that a single heanta outcast could raise themselves to such heights weighed heavy on the young childs heart during his training of the equally brutal martial arts of his clan. He strove to be capable of making an equally as remarkable name for himself for even as a child Sig knew a warriors life suited him, but he'd much rather live the elite life than the constant training. He saw little difference in being a warrior or a slave, one was led by carrot, the other forcibly by whip. When he wasn't training alongside instructors and students, Sig was either docilely pounding away at metal alongside his parents crafting weapons for legions, or receiving and dealing beatings alongside the other children.

By the time Sig reached peak physical maturity he had spent as much of his free time from training or smithing to learn about the world around them, the exploits of other races, albeit from documents and books looted from corpses to grow himself mentally. At first glance this hulking male could come off rather brutish, but a long enough conversation with him and you'd understand the depths of intelligence he strived to learn. What he was most interested in was learning about the demon matrices and how they synergized with each heanta differently. Studying what was known of each warlords power, the clan leaders, even those of the elite caste that were renown. This endeavor in his free time took him to mastering how to craft the Drak'na in it's various forms and what was interchangeable on the devastating weapon of his clan. By this time he'd also brutally learned that the dreams of a child were just that. To fall into rank and file was his purpose and to argue with such valiantly will just as easily land him among the slave caste, and his body bore the scars of those vicious teachings from many a brutal lesson in respect from his parents and instructors.

When the time came to face Na'Kora's Trial, Sig was none the happier. This was indeed what the past 18 years of his life had amounted to. During his time within the chasm he had been sent to he learned fast to focus solely on what was before him and not his wild dreams of the future. The creatures that tormented him during his journey, the vicious environment that he was forced to endure with magma flows for light and vents of heat to avoid or deal with scalding air all forced him to tap into the instinctual nature of his race. To become a demonic beast himself that fed off all that was around him. When all was said and done, he had returned from the trial victorious, having fed off the corpses of creatures he slayed and the few close encounters he had with changing lava flows and shifting vents of heat even his skin showed a visible change as if it were scorched. He wasted no time after having finished his trial to take his journey to Na'Kora's Forge, the trial had prepared him for whatever awaited him on the pilgrimage. He also had thought already of what he wanted for his demon matrix by this point, he needed suitable material to forge himself his two strongest weapons after all. With hammer in hand he chose his matrix carefully, spending an entire day shaping it in the depths to ensure it was proper before ascending to the surface once more. Keeping the excess crystal on hand for this was what he required, for he already had shaped his first weapon, and he needed these to ensure the creation of his second.

Atop Na'Kora's Forge is where he under went the straining process, mentally and physically to attune the demon matrix to his body. Placed just above his shoulder blades the excruciating pain that pulsated and radiated out from the crystals quite literally piercing and becoming one with him and his bone structure. The haunting images of the beast within flashed through his mind, the process took him two days of constant mental torture for the size of the matrix he was affixing to himself. Yet he knew still that his journey here was not over, while he had exhausted his entire magical potential fusing with the matrix, with some rest he began the process once more with the excess crystals, using his new found power to forcibly forge the excess crystal into blades for his own personal Drak'na. This process took him another day of complete off and on resting, forging, resting, forging. Once he was finished he returned home to his parents, boldly stated that he was ready to set off on a raid outside Kyrias on his own, and that during that time he would find himself a mate. While they laughed at his haughty nature they agreed it was time for him to step out of the nest fully and experience a true thrill for himself.

It was here that Sig came across his fate encounter with his mate, and the first time he'd met someone he truly felt was worth following with his heart and not because of caste. He had not even stepped foot outside the fiery lands when he came across her, a cold creature with fist the size of his chest and a fiery temper to match the land itself. Although their first encounter was short, over the next ten years they continually crossed paths among Clan Rakoris, Kyrias, and the rest of Ka'lesa. His childish dream came true in one manner, he had by marriage forcibly shoved his foot into the elite caste, though still treated like a warrior by his mate and her own family it was the first steps towards him gaining his freedom to roam the land as he saw fit. While second names were uncommon among Heanta the two found it as an inside joke that they were brawny heanta that sought out knowledge among the world, dawning the second name Braene, a strange way to pronounce brawn and brain together. During this transition in family came along the first three notches upon his Kukri came to life in the form of killing his parents to forcibly rend their business forging out from underneath them and adopt it himself, as well as a single suitor that sought to steal his mate out from under his nose. 

Side notes: 

Rp example: The smell of sulfur and ash filled his nostrils. Even the air seemed to burn as he breathed in the stench of his homeland. Among the constant magma flows of Kyrias he was wandering in a direction that he knew would bring him towards the neutral lands. Volcanic ash raining down around the lone wanderer made his already scorched olive skin seem darker than normal. His charcoal hair spotted with the grey volcanic ash made him appear much older than he already was. The blazing light of the lava flows he passed illuminated his face, causing his ruby red eyes to flicker with orange lights as he scanned the horizon. Thus far he hadn't encountered much, a few day old corpses were the only sign that he was following someone else through the wastes. He had seen bite marks on the first corpses, adolescent magma maulers, but each subsequent one was left alone, signs of another Heanta, nothing out of the ordinary at least. The only thing that didn't add up were the injuries seemed like they were all made from a piercing object, but nothing else. Nothing too odd, but there were no signs of magic, the magma maulers falling so easily to just a sword irked him.

His travel didn't take him much further until he came across a fresh corpse, and his questions were finally answered clearly. A shiver ran down his spine as he considered the heanta he was following, the corpse was riddled with razor sharp icicles. He took a moment to pick one up, the piece breaking in two and shattering as it hit the ground, as fragile as glass, the shards melting away and evaporating quickly among the heat of the wasteland. Standing tall his dark blue vest seemed black, with tan yellow sleeves poking out, demon matrix visible outlining his head. He kept on his way continuously scanning his environment to ensure that no one was coming up on him or the other way around. It didn't take him much longer to hear the sounds of battle between what sounded like a creature far large than him roar, magma mauler, and this one was definitely no child. As he cleared the distance between him and the terrain blocking his view he saw what looked like a heanta child in combat, albeit holding her own the large creature more than tripled his own size and it seemed as if he nearly doubled her size. "Tch."

While she had massive hands and was lobbing spears of ice towards the magma mauler not many seemed to sink through the creatures tough hide, instead shattering upon impact however she stood her ground still unaware of the second heanta now running up upon her. When he had fully cleared the distance and put himself between the creature and woman he held out a hand to try and hold her back, "You can't handle this on your own, just give me supporting fire chi-" Before he could even finish his sentence he felt a chilling bite in his back and cursed his own generosity. "I'm not a child and I don't need your filthy help", the words rang as cold in his ears as the melting ice that ran down his back and bit deep into his skin. He held his anger in check as a flaming sickle blade formed in his hand, "You'll get my help one way or another, but stab me again and you'll have more than the mauler to deal with." With those words he launched himself off in the direction of the beast, his matrix igniting into a cacophony of red and orange flares as he threw off the chain connecting with the hind leg of the mauler. Immediately he grabbed the ethereal chain in his palm and yanked himself towards the creature to scale up it's side to find an opening to rip and tear away at scales. 

Watching the larger heanta rush blindly in at the creature she smiled, she could quite possibly kill two birds with one stone, yet the opening he gave her was just as good as he ripped away the scales her horns and throat began to emanate a chilling blue glow before launching off another volley of spears towards exposed flesh of the creature. The howls of pain were enough to cause her to grimace and try to regain her footing and concentration, the same roar she noticed had launched the man off the beast, the chain he'd used wrapping around him she created a small slide of ice to catch him from the air. Distracted by the man she hadn't taken note of the beast rushing her having just enough time to turn herself into an ice cube to brace the initial impact as she skipped across the ground in a flurry of shards of ice. "Any bright idea's now that we've angered it more?!" she yelled out looking for the man, and it seemed her was already sprinting back at the creature, she straightened herself, ignoring the pain she felt in her arms to create a stairway towards the creatures face. "You've got the right idea already lady!" He screamed out leaping the remaining distance to punch the mauler in the face.

Their battle raged on for at least another half an hour before the mauler fell, but working together they managed to suffer minimal damages. It was at this time each took a stand off from the other, the main threat now gone they were wary of each other. "So you've been hunting the maulers children and found the parent, but why?" he asked, "I could ask you why you're out here, or why it sounds like you've been following me." she quickly retorted. "Simply been traveling towards the free lands and kept coming across their corpses." He answered, "So you going to answer my question then?" He kept his distance still, occasionally squeezing his hands into fists relieving them of any soreness from punching the creature. "If I told you just for sport would you really believe me?" she answered finally, her fists seeming to take the proper proportions for a woman of her size, "Also never dare to try and call me a child again. I have my matrix, as do you, do understand that means we're both adults." He took a moment to consider, she was rather small for her size but her point remained valid, it took a few more seconds for something in his head to click, "You're of clan Rakoris are you not? The elite caste why yes actually I do believe I know you." Taking a deep bow before her he raised his head, "Sigdrifumal Rakoris at your service." While he had taken his bow she walked up to sock him in the face, "I've no need for your name if you aren't of the elite caste yourself warrior now begone on your travels. I have no need for a bodyguard." With that she turned her back on him and began off again into the wastes of Kyrias. While his anger boiled in him for the unneeded punch he knew better than to chase her after witnessing her own strengths, and did just as she had told him, heading off once more towards the free lands.