Stake

Character Name: Stake

Race: Orc

Age: 21

Gender: Female

Character Description: Stake is above average height for someone still growing, and will likely end up a bit over six feet tall. Their skin is a demonic red color, as are their eyes, and their wings. Said wings are thickly muscled with leather-like flesh between bones. Of course their most notable feature is what may be mistaken for a mask.

It was actually an extension from their skull made of blackened bone that looked like it had been scorched. A mended crack was over their left eye. Their clothes were well suited for travel and labor, and with the visible muscle they had they were used to it.

Character Occupation: Once a performer, then a taker of odd-jobs.

Character Personality/Traits: Is angst a character trait? They often look angry, but that could just be the angular shape of their boneplate and the fact most of their facial features are largely unseen as a result. They get tense when talking about themselves, not wanting to talk about it. More likely to lash out than get personal.

They don’t want to be seen as weak, and are very standoffish as a result. Either ignored, or avoided is the hope. Gets legitimately flustered if seen as kind as well, so honestly it’s a real case of ‘what the fuck do you want from us’ situation. Classic angst.

Heart often in the right place, which is funny because they have Situs Inversus. 

Their half demon traits are:

• Leathery wings on their back, very thicc, very muscle.
• A blackened, scorched looking bone plate over most of their face.
• Their blood is black, reflecting no light.

Character Biography: 

It really should be of little surprise they were abandoned, though perhaps the greater surprise is that they weren’t simply killed. Maybe Stake’s mother lacked the will to dash the newborn monster against the rocks, or maybe the complicated birth meant she lacked the strength. Left to the wilds, that should have been it. Fate is a funny thing though, isn’t it? As large as the world is, a troupe of performers got lost and one of their foragers stumbled across this baby. And perhaps even more unlikely, they found pity for the hungry cries and brought the child back with them. 

Were they all happy about this? Maybe not. At the very least, this baby was another mouth to feed. At worst, she would seek to kill them all. But it’s also the simple question several people asked themselves that night, one of them lifting a rock before pausing; did they have it within themselves to murder a child? A babe? Alive through pity, spared through others lacking the will for murder. That was the undertone for Stake’s life as she was raised by these traveling performers. She ended up liking to sing, and would play the part of the silly devil in some of their acts. To ensure her safety, she was outfitted with fake horns so if anybody suspected what she was… pop! See? All just clever costuming.

Her name is an odd thing of course. One of her most ardent detractors for being brought in called them a Mistake. Miss Stake was the play on words that interjected for her destruction, confounding them for enough time for them to hesitate. In the end, Beatrice was the one who made her costume. It takes a village, and through their efforts she was afforded some modicum of normalcy. She was strong, and helpful. And despite everything, they took a liking to her. She was part of the extended family. It was of course not always great to be a traveling troupe.

The crossroads were a nightmare, which severely limited their ability to move around and perform for new people. So, new performances had to be made up. Simple, they were a creative lot! Her somewhat-adoptive-father was a man by the name of Benjamin. He had a daughter a few years younger than Stake, and the two of them were often paired together. Susie’s mother hadn’t gotten better after her birth, and steadily withered away. Because Stake was stronger and through sheer trust, she was largely assigned as her guard dog when they went out. This naturally culminated in Susie playing the Angel to her Devil.

Then the winter didn’t end. It was getting harder to find warm places to perform, or even places willing to host them. More and more people were squinting at the girl who always seemed to be in costume. They were quite happy when the weather returned to normal, allowing them to move around more. Spire’s Crossing was a good stopping point for them. Central, and with a steady flow of people. Stake quite liked the sights, but her getting older made things get more heated. She had always wondered what she was, exactly, but it made her more angry than it did before.

It wasn’t that she felt pitied. She knew they loved her, yes, but… she hated that she was pigeon-holed into the singular role in their acts. Always the monster. Sure they all got to bow at the end, but how many stories ended with people clapping over her losing? It made her start to resent her step-sister and she hated that too! But nobody wanted stories of demons winning. Demons were the bad guys. Demons were villains. Except she was a demon. So what the fuck did that make her?

Every story she was in, she either died, or was proven wrong, or needed to be redeemed. But why? She hadn’t done anything wrong. She followed all the same rules, yet she was judged all the same. She had to hide, and act, and be given wary looks. She didn’t hate being a half demon; she hated that being a half demon meant she was bad in the eyes of others.

She honestly expected that her life would change drastically because of some drunk or zealot deciding they knew what this world needed less of. Wouldn’t be the first time someone had too much beer before or after or during a show and she’d need to shove them away.  No, it wasn’t a drunk. Some hothead teenager from Spire’s Crossing wanted to prove he was cool so decided the best way to do that was to harass Susie as a pretty young lady and then draw a knife on Stake when she intervened. He thought the pretty little thing would deter her.

What it did accomplish was getting lodged in the bone above her eye, blinding her for a moment as black ichor spilled out and over it from knicking the fleshy bit nearby. It did not, in fact, stop her from breaking his jaw with a single punch. She worked for a living. He was just some merchant’s son. He was just some merchant’s son. Shit. She realized the mistake as soon as it was made. No matter what way it was put, she and Susie were the travelers from out of town, and the attack had revealed that not all her demonic features were so fake.

Maaaaybe it was theft to leave with the knife, but it was still embedded in her skull extension and nicked some of the fleshy bits around her eye. Nothing to impair her sight, but she was more worried about the inevitable heat it’d bring on everyone than letting them tend to her face. She was never going to be pretty, so she wasn’t too worried. She didn’t even know if she had a face under the plate or if it was just all skull. Benjamin spoke with the troupe master and they agreed they’d talk to the guard about it. Attacking their girls was not going to fly, damn the politics. They insisted Stake watch out for Susie while they were gone, but Stake had the feeling it was less to keep her safe and more to keep her from leaving.

She packed anyways, sorry Susie. Moment she saw guards approaching it’d be too late for her. Even if she was found innocent, it didn’t mean she wouldn’t bring danger to her family. All it’d take to cripple their income is one guy paid to axe a few wheels in the night. And if they couldn’t leave, it’d be easier to point fingers at her. At them. She told herself she wasn’t being scared, and that she had to do this. All her life she’d been typecast as the monster. As she set out for Falkvard with a promise she was just fetching water, she thought about what Benjamin’s wife had said before she died; art imitates life.

Other/Extra: 

One fancy looking but chipped dagger? The one that got stuck in her face.

Magic Biography: 

“What’s happening?!”

The day had started out normally for her. Maybe she woke up wrong and was a bit annoyed at how bright it was out. Maybe it was the memories of why she’d gotten to bed late. Ugh. Another argument she knew she’d never win. She expected a repeat of it later. She grunted as she walked by Benjamin as he tended the cooking pot. She had intended to walk by and go about her morning chores when she heard him rising to walk after her. She sighed, turning with half a scowl visible on her face. “What do you w-”

She was surprised by the hug. Her wings flexed against the arms holding her on instinct, but the words he said made her freeze. “I’m sorry for what I said. Being worried about you, it- it doesn’t excuse being angry at you. I love you.” She didn’t know what to say, and after the moment the hug broke off and she was left confused. Her step-father had gone back to tending the fire and getting breakfast going. She herself was distracted from her work splitting logs because her eyes kept blurring. Ugh, fucking tears? Really?! She was fine! She was-

The axe came down. A clean split. That felt right. Easy. Distracting. It’s always worked before to help her vent her frustration, but this time it didn’t help. No matter how many logs she split, her jaw wouldn’t unclench and she wouldn’t stop feeling like screaming. She hadn’t realized how much she’d been seething until she heard Susie’s voice. Looking up, she blinked in surprise at the wispy shadow that had been wrathfully whipping about around her. And she felt… tired. More than she should have for the work she’d been doing.

Her step-father and a few others had come running over at the commotion, seeing the last of the shadows recede to normal as her little sister looked on in fear. Susie ran to her to hug her before any feelings of loathing could rise. “Are you okay? Are the shadows going to take you away? I’ll- I’ll fight them!” More blurring to her eyes as she hugged her close, axe forgotten on the grass. “Nah. Nothing’s going to take me away from you. Not for a long time.”

Please describe the magic system, including its limitations in your own words: 

A character with the gift is able to cast magic. Now, being able to is different from actually doing it. To actually cast magic in most cases, you need a trinket. With proper training, you can cast at the maximum capability of this trinket. This takes time and is often equated to being like training muscle.

You have 5 spell slots. Casting any of your magics at max level drains a full spell slot, even if you cast weak water and have Strong Earth. Without line of sight, you can only cast through touch. Touch spells tend to be more expensive and less effective.

Exceptions for these rules are rare: Dark gates, for example, only require you to have seen the location before and to be in range. Beastial races, half demons, and half angels can also, with the gift, innately cast their associated aspect up to medium.

Please describe how you would use a weak trinket with your characters first/only aspect: 

Legitimately, she cares little for magic. It was something other people did, and her only real experience with it was flares. It’s exhausting to make shadows wiggle, have them skirt about. And doing so feels like something terribly oily sliding down her spine. She doesn’t really practice, but it’s there. Looming.