Designation: Leo Grancea
Gender: M
Age: 24
Occupation: Writer, Soldier, Hero
Country of Origin: 'Murica
Origin of Earth: 2012
Quirky: American from a war-torn alternate reality invaded by "demons"
Likes: Guns, Fast Food, Liberty
Dislikes: Lack of Humor, Lack of Respect, Lack of Fast Food
Personality: Selfless, courageous, and a proud sponsor of the American way
Intellectual Capabilities: As average as average can be; For writers do not need to think, soldiers need only to act, and heroes just need to stand there and look pretty.
Physical Capabilities: Developed extreme dexterity to boost his penmanship, which ended up increasing his muscular strength because pens are heavy. Also, he underwent military training.
Hobbies: Practicing penmanship, buying really heavy pens, fishing, fighting demons, cooking, star-gazing and, last but not least, writing
Strengths: Divine penmanship, highly acclaimed writing skills, strong willpower
Weaknesses: Prefers overkill instead of more standard approaches, can't see why kids prefer Cinnamon Toast Crunch, strong willpower, and kryptonite
Request: Nothing
Abilities:
STR: 10
DEX: 18
CON: 10
INT: 8
WIS: 8
CHA: 10
World Setting: It ended before it ever began. Guns flashed and soldiers roared as the fighting reached its zenith. Explosions rocked the earth whilst fires towered within the night sky. The hard-fought battle that had lasted several days was finally coming to a conclusion. Already, the carnage wrought by the raging conflict had devastated entire countries world-wide, but even these lasting embers were such that even the greatest of fireworks could provide naught but the faintest of glimmers in comparison.
For a rift had opened on the dawning of the new year, an empty point in space from which strange monsters soon emerged. At first, the world was in panic, then in fear of these strange creatures wielding powers beyond any modern understanding: Lightning and ice arose from their mouths and limbs, fire came at their beck and call, and even when they were successfully gunned down, some displayed remarkable regenerative properties that rendered further combat moot. Thus, conventional weapons proved ineffective against these latest invaders and much territory was lost in the initial clash alone.
However, humanity would not take such an affront lying down. After all, nothing brought people together more than the existence of a common foe. Gone were the petty squabbles between nations, the political intrigue, and the public ire. For the first time in human history, the world was united as never before.
Weapons were forged using parts harvested from fallen monsters in a practice later dubbed "magitech," new tactics were developed to better accommodate the changing battlefield, and surprisingly several monsters themselves expressed willingness to fight by their side. Humanity quickly adapted and hence a plan was soon put into motion - a daring offensive to strike at the rift sequestered deep in hostile territory before the number of monsters grew too great to quell.
But with limited knowledge and scant research in magitech technology, there was only one sure-fire way to close the rift for good. And so the world pooled its resources and the greatest minds came together, all in order to develop the world's first magitech-enhanced nuke. Now perhaps there existed a more subtle solution, but with more territory falling to demons each passing day, lives were lost on a routine basis. Humanity, as a whole, could not afford to wait any longer.
However, an aerial delivery was out of the question, as all known warheads have been easily intercepted in the past. Therefore, the only hope of success lay in an escorted delivery by land, where the full brunt of the combined armies can be simultaneously deployed. This task force, comprised of all the world's greatest armies, was sent out amongst much fanfare and cheer. They were equipped with the latest in magitech weaponry and supported with a handful of monsters willing to turn against their own kind. Their path was long, arduous, and fraught with unending peril. Yet they persisted, though every step was paid for in blood and tears.
For their path was not easy and their new technological improvements could only accommodate so much. What had once started as a hopeful expedition to set right the injustice done to their world became a grim journey where death lay always a moment behind. Their numbers dwindled as they made their advance, until the grand army once several million strong became several thousand.
Still their journey was not over. And though each step seemed more insurmountable than the last, though their ammo ran out, though their legs gave way, and despite the fact that they should have already been wiped out several times over, they miraculously persisted towards the end. For even without ammo, they could still hold a knife, and even without legs, they could still crawl. It was this persistence that allowed them to continue though the odds were so grossly stacked against them. For only through such valor are miracles born.
Biography: Since time immemorial, a multitude of reasons have given way to various conflicts and it is from this ceaseless conflict that heroes are made. In this way, the Grim Journey saw the rise and fall of many a hero. Among them was a man by the name of Leo Grancea, a mere writer by trade. He had been very successful, however, creating various works that were once praised by the strictest of critics world-wide. But none of that mattered now; for what use were even the greatest of literature if no one was alive to read them?
Therefore Leo had enlisted and at this time, he now found himself stepping past the bodies of fallen comrades, as the jaws of death loomed constantly past the horizon. He had merely been part of the support forces at first, in charge of delivering artillery support and medical aid whenever possible, but the chaos of battle soon placed him on the front-lines, armed with only a couple of artillery shells and a med-kit with which to defend himself.
Ironically, it was this very chaotic battlefield that proved his salvation. For with so many fallen soldiers around him, spare equipment was only an arm's reach away. And so, whenever a fellow squad-mate fell, he received a new weapon, with each dead comrade, he obtained more ammo, and with each perished friend, he renewed his conviction.
At first, he was slightly hesitant taking items from the deceased, from faces he had grown accustomed to seeing and people he had personally met. But later, after a seemingly dead soldier, as if sensing his unease, marshaled the last drops of his strength merely to pass a worn rifle into his hands, an action which only hastened his own demise, Leo found he could hesitate no longer.
He had lost count of how much time passed then. Whenever his weapon broke or his ammo ran out, he would swap it out with those from those who were dead or soon would be. Naturally, Leo's actions caught on and when they realized this, more and more soldiers began performing bolder and far riskier actions than they would have ever considered before. After all, even should they die they could simply pass the baton to another. In this way, not a single magitech rifle ever stopped firing for when the wielder was slain, he would, with his dying breath, pass it to another more able soldier. Thus, a cycle was made and the battle began to paint a surreal scene, one where the level of sacrifice and heroism displayed both reached new unprecedented heights.
However, there was a limit to heroics, and the remaining assault force inevitably shrank from an army five-digit strong to four, then from four to three, until finally only a dozen remained. What was amazing, however, was that despite the heavy losses, the army's rate of advancement never slowed; in fact, it only sped up. For the front-line was held together by a certain trio of demons that had chosen to fight for humanity, all that remained of the several dozen monsters that had left together with the initial human assault. A red wolf-like creature capable of teleporting across the battlefield to wherever it was needed provided indispensable support to the soldiers no matter their location, saving a great many from meeting an untimely end. Next, a black panther monster able to create physical manifestations of its own shadow was able to replenish the gaps left in faltering formations. But all paled compared to the silver-furred fox demon that shone in the moonlight. Its movements were as if it could foresee the future and thus the demon fox continually moved to evade attacks before they were even initiated. In this way, the fox displayed such deadly skill and grace that it remained unblemished despite leading the vanguard in the visceral battlefield.
As for the human survivors, what few remained were fully equipped from head-to-toe in magitech armaments taken from the honored dead. The last remnants of entire brigades were literally hanging on certain soldiers, making it almost impossible to determine from which troop each soldier originated from.
But as with all things, time passed and their momentum took a bitter turn. Without warning, a heavy rain began to fall, a natural reflection of the mood the weary survivors had developed after many days of non-stop fighting. Many had not eaten or slept since the fighting began, and after several days it was beginning to take an apparent toll on what few remained. At least the allied demons were able to sustain themselves by devouring hostile monsters in every battle, but for the human soldiers, each second of prolonged conflict was filled with such agony that death seemed like a welcome reprieve.
And death did come, claiming their lives one-by-one until at last only Leo and that fox-demon remained, a common soldier and an unusual turncoat against a horde of vicious demons. After the latest skirmish, however, they were still a full mile out from their target destination but were in too poor a condition to continue. Leo himself had managed to come out from several near-death experiences in the last hour alone, only emerging alive by the fickle hand of fate. Even then, his dominant right arm hung limp at his side, his left eye was in tatters, and a gaping hole had emerged in his side. As for his demonic companion, the fox was unable to maintain its pristine visage. Blood now dyed its once brilliant silver fur a light shade of red and several wounds, some fatal, were visible throughout its body. The situation did little to diminish the fox's regal bearing, however, but with its hallowed eyes and faltering steps, the demon fox made it apparent that the only thing keeping it standing was sheer willpower alone.
The last remaining human soldier laughed dryly as his senses gradually began to dim. Already, he could not feel the steady stream of rain on his skin, nor the gaping wound torn across his side. Perhaps he should have been worried, but then again, the loss of pain afforded him greater clarity to his grim task.
Originally, the plan was to set the nuke in a secure location before heading off a safe distance and detonating remotely, but it was clear that this was as far as they would go.
Leo, with clothes drenched in the torrential downpour, shook off the creeping drowsiness threatening to overtake him and began to arm the magitech nuke, as memories of his past came unbidden to the forefront of his mind.
-He had been born in a common household in the eastern coast of Florida. Their home was not too fancy and their earnings not too great, but they made do with what they had. Despite any shortcomings they might have had, the family was happy.
The soldier sighed in reminiscence. They did say your life passes by your eyes when your time has come so perhaps this was what they meant, he thought somberly, as he completed the initial preparations.
-Years passed, and Leo grew up. Forged by the crucible that is life, he came to experience various ups and downs in business, romance, and education. He admittedly made a few mistakes, but he also learned from them in order to become the man he is now. However, he had always been unable to achieve his own dreams, to his ultimate regret, so he had chosen to instead become a writer, an occupation in which he might inspire dreams in future generations.
Leo began mechanically punching in the 16-digit initialization sequence that would set the nuke to detonate almost immediately after activation. The silver fox had taken this time to come over and lay a paw on the strange device, seemingly curious as to what this last human was trying to do.
-But such things were not meant to last and later, when demons arrived to tear the world asunder, when his home was destroyed and when people he knew were killed right before his eyes, Leo became a soldier, that he might protect those very dreams he helped create.
And now... he was prepared to take the final dive in his rather tumultuous life to ensure that there would be a next generation. Thus, he finished inputting the 16th digit and the magitech-enhanced explosive was activated. A countdown immediately appeared, signaling that the large-scale explosive had only 30 seconds till detonation.
"How ironic that the world's greatest doomsday weapon ever built would not be used to destroy the world, but to save it." Leo casually remarked in the heavy rain. Then, upon discovering the silver fox at his side, the soldier swept his battered hand solemnly across the silver blood-soaked fur, earning a faint lick in affirmation. Had the fox understood his earlier remark? He briefly wondered. It now simply lay curled up beside him, a silent guardian to his final moments.
The clattering of rain drops provided lurid ambiance to this strange scene, broken only by the gradual roar of beasts growing louder with each passing second. Both man and beast had been in enough battles to recognize the sound, however, a precursor to the many battles they had previously fought in order to reach this point. How many demons would appear to do battle with them now that they were so close to the rift itself? Leo pondered. Hundreds? Thousands? Perhaps even more?
Not like it mattered now, the weary soldier thought with a grin. How he wished he could see the expression on the monsters' faces when they discover that they were in for far more than they bargained for. By now, the detonation timer had just reached the 10 second mark, meaning its detonation would coincide almost perfectly with the arrival of the next wave of monsters.
As for the demon fox, it remained tensed and alert at his side, but rather than prepare for one last fight against the monstrous horde, it merely stayed curled up beside him, resigning itself to its impending fate. In response, Leo gently pet his last remaining comrade-in-arms as he lay down, ignoring the deafening cries of hungry beasts in his ears and the perpetual torrent of rain on his face. He swore that if there were a next life... surely then he would fulfill his own dreams and ambitions.
Thus, only moments before his death, Leo finally turned his attention to the stars above, his eyes peering across the vast expanse of the night sky.
The stars were beautiful that night.
Age: 24
Occupation: Writer, Soldier, Hero
Country of Origin: 'Murica
Origin of Earth: 2012
Quirky: American from a war-torn alternate reality invaded by "demons"
Likes: Guns, Fast Food, Liberty
Dislikes: Lack of Humor, Lack of Respect, Lack of Fast Food
Personality: Selfless, courageous, and a proud sponsor of the American way
Intellectual Capabilities: As average as average can be; For writers do not need to think, soldiers need only to act, and heroes just need to stand there and look pretty.
Physical Capabilities: Developed extreme dexterity to boost his penmanship, which ended up increasing his muscular strength because pens are heavy. Also, he underwent military training.
Hobbies: Practicing penmanship, buying really heavy pens, fishing, fighting demons, cooking, star-gazing and, last but not least, writing
Strengths: Divine penmanship, highly acclaimed writing skills, strong willpower
Weaknesses: Prefers overkill instead of more standard approaches, can't see why kids prefer Cinnamon Toast Crunch, strong willpower, and kryptonite
Request: Nothing
Abilities:
STR: 10
DEX: 18
CON: 10
INT: 8
WIS: 8
CHA: 10
World Setting: It ended before it ever began. Guns flashed and soldiers roared as the fighting reached its zenith. Explosions rocked the earth whilst fires towered within the night sky. The hard-fought battle that had lasted several days was finally coming to a conclusion. Already, the carnage wrought by the raging conflict had devastated entire countries world-wide, but even these lasting embers were such that even the greatest of fireworks could provide naught but the faintest of glimmers in comparison.
For a rift had opened on the dawning of the new year, an empty point in space from which strange monsters soon emerged. At first, the world was in panic, then in fear of these strange creatures wielding powers beyond any modern understanding: Lightning and ice arose from their mouths and limbs, fire came at their beck and call, and even when they were successfully gunned down, some displayed remarkable regenerative properties that rendered further combat moot. Thus, conventional weapons proved ineffective against these latest invaders and much territory was lost in the initial clash alone.
However, humanity would not take such an affront lying down. After all, nothing brought people together more than the existence of a common foe. Gone were the petty squabbles between nations, the political intrigue, and the public ire. For the first time in human history, the world was united as never before.
Weapons were forged using parts harvested from fallen monsters in a practice later dubbed "magitech," new tactics were developed to better accommodate the changing battlefield, and surprisingly several monsters themselves expressed willingness to fight by their side. Humanity quickly adapted and hence a plan was soon put into motion - a daring offensive to strike at the rift sequestered deep in hostile territory before the number of monsters grew too great to quell.
But with limited knowledge and scant research in magitech technology, there was only one sure-fire way to close the rift for good. And so the world pooled its resources and the greatest minds came together, all in order to develop the world's first magitech-enhanced nuke. Now perhaps there existed a more subtle solution, but with more territory falling to demons each passing day, lives were lost on a routine basis. Humanity, as a whole, could not afford to wait any longer.
However, an aerial delivery was out of the question, as all known warheads have been easily intercepted in the past. Therefore, the only hope of success lay in an escorted delivery by land, where the full brunt of the combined armies can be simultaneously deployed. This task force, comprised of all the world's greatest armies, was sent out amongst much fanfare and cheer. They were equipped with the latest in magitech weaponry and supported with a handful of monsters willing to turn against their own kind. Their path was long, arduous, and fraught with unending peril. Yet they persisted, though every step was paid for in blood and tears.
For their path was not easy and their new technological improvements could only accommodate so much. What had once started as a hopeful expedition to set right the injustice done to their world became a grim journey where death lay always a moment behind. Their numbers dwindled as they made their advance, until the grand army once several million strong became several thousand.
Still their journey was not over. And though each step seemed more insurmountable than the last, though their ammo ran out, though their legs gave way, and despite the fact that they should have already been wiped out several times over, they miraculously persisted towards the end. For even without ammo, they could still hold a knife, and even without legs, they could still crawl. It was this persistence that allowed them to continue though the odds were so grossly stacked against them. For only through such valor are miracles born.
Biography: Since time immemorial, a multitude of reasons have given way to various conflicts and it is from this ceaseless conflict that heroes are made. In this way, the Grim Journey saw the rise and fall of many a hero. Among them was a man by the name of Leo Grancea, a mere writer by trade. He had been very successful, however, creating various works that were once praised by the strictest of critics world-wide. But none of that mattered now; for what use were even the greatest of literature if no one was alive to read them?
Therefore Leo had enlisted and at this time, he now found himself stepping past the bodies of fallen comrades, as the jaws of death loomed constantly past the horizon. He had merely been part of the support forces at first, in charge of delivering artillery support and medical aid whenever possible, but the chaos of battle soon placed him on the front-lines, armed with only a couple of artillery shells and a med-kit with which to defend himself.
Ironically, it was this very chaotic battlefield that proved his salvation. For with so many fallen soldiers around him, spare equipment was only an arm's reach away. And so, whenever a fellow squad-mate fell, he received a new weapon, with each dead comrade, he obtained more ammo, and with each perished friend, he renewed his conviction.
At first, he was slightly hesitant taking items from the deceased, from faces he had grown accustomed to seeing and people he had personally met. But later, after a seemingly dead soldier, as if sensing his unease, marshaled the last drops of his strength merely to pass a worn rifle into his hands, an action which only hastened his own demise, Leo found he could hesitate no longer.
He had lost count of how much time passed then. Whenever his weapon broke or his ammo ran out, he would swap it out with those from those who were dead or soon would be. Naturally, Leo's actions caught on and when they realized this, more and more soldiers began performing bolder and far riskier actions than they would have ever considered before. After all, even should they die they could simply pass the baton to another. In this way, not a single magitech rifle ever stopped firing for when the wielder was slain, he would, with his dying breath, pass it to another more able soldier. Thus, a cycle was made and the battle began to paint a surreal scene, one where the level of sacrifice and heroism displayed both reached new unprecedented heights.
However, there was a limit to heroics, and the remaining assault force inevitably shrank from an army five-digit strong to four, then from four to three, until finally only a dozen remained. What was amazing, however, was that despite the heavy losses, the army's rate of advancement never slowed; in fact, it only sped up. For the front-line was held together by a certain trio of demons that had chosen to fight for humanity, all that remained of the several dozen monsters that had left together with the initial human assault. A red wolf-like creature capable of teleporting across the battlefield to wherever it was needed provided indispensable support to the soldiers no matter their location, saving a great many from meeting an untimely end. Next, a black panther monster able to create physical manifestations of its own shadow was able to replenish the gaps left in faltering formations. But all paled compared to the silver-furred fox demon that shone in the moonlight. Its movements were as if it could foresee the future and thus the demon fox continually moved to evade attacks before they were even initiated. In this way, the fox displayed such deadly skill and grace that it remained unblemished despite leading the vanguard in the visceral battlefield.
As for the human survivors, what few remained were fully equipped from head-to-toe in magitech armaments taken from the honored dead. The last remnants of entire brigades were literally hanging on certain soldiers, making it almost impossible to determine from which troop each soldier originated from.
But as with all things, time passed and their momentum took a bitter turn. Without warning, a heavy rain began to fall, a natural reflection of the mood the weary survivors had developed after many days of non-stop fighting. Many had not eaten or slept since the fighting began, and after several days it was beginning to take an apparent toll on what few remained. At least the allied demons were able to sustain themselves by devouring hostile monsters in every battle, but for the human soldiers, each second of prolonged conflict was filled with such agony that death seemed like a welcome reprieve.
And death did come, claiming their lives one-by-one until at last only Leo and that fox-demon remained, a common soldier and an unusual turncoat against a horde of vicious demons. After the latest skirmish, however, they were still a full mile out from their target destination but were in too poor a condition to continue. Leo himself had managed to come out from several near-death experiences in the last hour alone, only emerging alive by the fickle hand of fate. Even then, his dominant right arm hung limp at his side, his left eye was in tatters, and a gaping hole had emerged in his side. As for his demonic companion, the fox was unable to maintain its pristine visage. Blood now dyed its once brilliant silver fur a light shade of red and several wounds, some fatal, were visible throughout its body. The situation did little to diminish the fox's regal bearing, however, but with its hallowed eyes and faltering steps, the demon fox made it apparent that the only thing keeping it standing was sheer willpower alone.
The last remaining human soldier laughed dryly as his senses gradually began to dim. Already, he could not feel the steady stream of rain on his skin, nor the gaping wound torn across his side. Perhaps he should have been worried, but then again, the loss of pain afforded him greater clarity to his grim task.
Originally, the plan was to set the nuke in a secure location before heading off a safe distance and detonating remotely, but it was clear that this was as far as they would go.
Leo, with clothes drenched in the torrential downpour, shook off the creeping drowsiness threatening to overtake him and began to arm the magitech nuke, as memories of his past came unbidden to the forefront of his mind.
-He had been born in a common household in the eastern coast of Florida. Their home was not too fancy and their earnings not too great, but they made do with what they had. Despite any shortcomings they might have had, the family was happy.
The soldier sighed in reminiscence. They did say your life passes by your eyes when your time has come so perhaps this was what they meant, he thought somberly, as he completed the initial preparations.
-Years passed, and Leo grew up. Forged by the crucible that is life, he came to experience various ups and downs in business, romance, and education. He admittedly made a few mistakes, but he also learned from them in order to become the man he is now. However, he had always been unable to achieve his own dreams, to his ultimate regret, so he had chosen to instead become a writer, an occupation in which he might inspire dreams in future generations.
Leo began mechanically punching in the 16-digit initialization sequence that would set the nuke to detonate almost immediately after activation. The silver fox had taken this time to come over and lay a paw on the strange device, seemingly curious as to what this last human was trying to do.
-But such things were not meant to last and later, when demons arrived to tear the world asunder, when his home was destroyed and when people he knew were killed right before his eyes, Leo became a soldier, that he might protect those very dreams he helped create.
And now... he was prepared to take the final dive in his rather tumultuous life to ensure that there would be a next generation. Thus, he finished inputting the 16th digit and the magitech-enhanced explosive was activated. A countdown immediately appeared, signaling that the large-scale explosive had only 30 seconds till detonation.
"How ironic that the world's greatest doomsday weapon ever built would not be used to destroy the world, but to save it." Leo casually remarked in the heavy rain. Then, upon discovering the silver fox at his side, the soldier swept his battered hand solemnly across the silver blood-soaked fur, earning a faint lick in affirmation. Had the fox understood his earlier remark? He briefly wondered. It now simply lay curled up beside him, a silent guardian to his final moments.
The clattering of rain drops provided lurid ambiance to this strange scene, broken only by the gradual roar of beasts growing louder with each passing second. Both man and beast had been in enough battles to recognize the sound, however, a precursor to the many battles they had previously fought in order to reach this point. How many demons would appear to do battle with them now that they were so close to the rift itself? Leo pondered. Hundreds? Thousands? Perhaps even more?
Not like it mattered now, the weary soldier thought with a grin. How he wished he could see the expression on the monsters' faces when they discover that they were in for far more than they bargained for. By now, the detonation timer had just reached the 10 second mark, meaning its detonation would coincide almost perfectly with the arrival of the next wave of monsters.
As for the demon fox, it remained tensed and alert at his side, but rather than prepare for one last fight against the monstrous horde, it merely stayed curled up beside him, resigning itself to its impending fate. In response, Leo gently pet his last remaining comrade-in-arms as he lay down, ignoring the deafening cries of hungry beasts in his ears and the perpetual torrent of rain on his face. He swore that if there were a next life... surely then he would fulfill his own dreams and ambitions.
Thus, only moments before his death, Leo finally turned his attention to the stars above, his eyes peering across the vast expanse of the night sky.
The stars were beautiful that night.
[/spoiler]
