Character Story Game

>>49958927
Chong Sheng was born of abnormal circumstances, even among constructs. Most are built to serve their masters as creatures with full knowledge and acceptence of their place in the universe; Chong was merely the residual of a mad experiment.

When the beloved Great Emperor of Shina, Chen Ku, was struck down by an assassin's blade on the day of his wedding, the Empire began a downward spiral into fragmentation, chaos, and infighting.

In an effort to stave of the fall of their proud empire, the greatest minds of the land, philosophers, scholars, monks and holy men came together to find or make an heir worthy to sit upon the Jade Dragon's throne.

However, the bickering of the land's many nobles continued to tear the country at such a rate, that it was deemed impossible to find a suitable candidate for emperorship from the populace in time. It was then that this committee of genius's surmised, that the only people who could be capable of bringing order back to the Empire were it's previous leaders.

Invoking a combination of the oldest and most sacred of hidden rituals, The committee intended to summon the bygone souls of Shino's greatest generals, scholars, and leaders, including the recently deceased Chen Ku himself, into a specialized construct. Nothing like this had ever been attempted before, and were to meeting not kept secret from the populace to prevent it from reaching unfriendly ears, it would have been hailed as the most ambitious undertaking of Century of the Dung Beetle.

But the result of all thier work was found to be quite lacking. The Automaton was found to behave no differently than it had before, and thinking that they had failed, the Shino's finest minds discarded the result of the failed experiment and turned else.

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>>49959855
Cont.
But the Constructs story did not end with it being recycled into a flower pot on some landlords windowsill. Although it had no purpose nor instructions to guide, The Memories and experiences of Shina's greatest leaders were more than sufficient to escape the recycling plant

However, escaping destruction only brought the construct more trouble, as it had no directive or master to follow. To add to it's problems, it was plagued with memories and feelings of events that it was never present for and it was all presented in an in comprehensible manner-downright illlgical even. The Only thing that the contruct's mind could make sense of was on word that the committee had repeated endlessly

"Chongsheng"

And so, his head full of answers to questions he couldn't even begin to comprehend, the Construct set out on a journey of under standing.

Phew that was long
Now do mine, do mine

>>49959880
They say that only the good die young.

Johhny "Eagle-Eyed" Smith is proof that they're wrong.

By the Young age of 23, Johhny had become the most wanted man in Mississippi, having robbed 18 different banks twice, robbed a caravan company out of business, and even burned down 2 towns by accident. Johhny's Idea of a good time was to spend his ill gotten gains on liquor and whores. It's no surprise that when he was finally caught, he was buck naked and cuffed to a bed, nursing a hangover. The Lawman saw fit to make Johhny pay his dues to society at the gallows, and he died as he lived: try'na kick the executioner's head off while screamin' bloody murder.

Now normally this would have been the end for Eagle Eye, were it not for a certain voodoo witch, who saw fit to make him her slave.

Now when Johhny was awoken from his enternal dirt nap, he noticed two things. One: he could no longer get drunk, as any food and drink phased right through him, and two: he could no longer enjoy the company of the fine ladies of the night, as he longer had the "equipment" any more. That means that The now undead Johhny had only one thing left that he could appreciate, shooting things. And He would shown just how much he "appreciates" shooting things to the voodoo witch, were it not for control over him.

Now he does her bidding, while trying to find a way to free himself from her grasp. Not even Death can keep this Renegade down!

>>49960373

Dipti was really nervous. It was her first time presenting her invention to the high Khaballah.

Her parents were always so adamant on her joining the magic academy, since she was a girl and it was a given around where she lives that bright women would wake to the magic as certain as the wind blows.

But alas, she never bloomed, but her mind kept wandering and looking for new ways to create.

After years lamenting her destiny, she started taking interest in the local clockshop, she loved to see the cogs coming together to make a whole new thing, wondrous and alive.

The little magic spark she could muster was used to attach machine parts and small soldering.

And now she was here, about to showcase her most praised invention to join the school in which nobody tought a woman blessed with the spark would ever join. Well, at least she'd have the perfect tool to record this moment.

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The Character is the Necron.

>>49960570
"I didn't sign up for this shit!"

That seemed to be the running motif of Quentin's Life.

Quentin Soubrouillard had grown up the average alliance citizen, even enlisting with the space Corps at age 18 after high school. He had joined up expecting action, adventure, and the killing of Zeneran scum for the good of the alliance.

What he got was shitty food, Shitty barracks, and a buncha shitty operations tryna root out Zener sympathizing traitors on some back water mudball in some dime-a-dozen pocket of the Galaxy. What a Fucking laugh. He had joined up to be a hero, not some glorified secret police officer.

That all changed when Quentin and his team were called out to investigate strange reports coming from the mines halfway across the planet. But there wasn't much to investigate it seemed, when His Sergeant's had exploded from a Zenerian Thermo-rifle shot. It turned out that the Miners who called them out there in the first place had been turncoats, and that this had all been a plan to ambush them. Normally, the Hardened Space Rangers would have had no trouble from a bunch of ill-equipped traitor civilians, but the presence of Zeneran Cloaker commandos changed the situation. Only through a combination of Stupidity, insanity, and luck, was Quentin able to escape the encounter alive.'

Now Alone and isolated, and with mos of his equipment broken in the battle, Quentin must survive and return to his base, assuming that the Zenerans hadn't already overrun the planet, using only what tools has available to him. Right now that seemed to consist of two Power-Pickaxes, an old, derelict mining suit, that he had jury rigged into working again, and a few cigarettes. This was going to be harder than he thought.

>>49960373

This thread was worth it just for that one picture. Everything else is gravy.

>>49963306

"What if Jesus had been born in Constatinople 1400-1500 years later than usual?"

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>>49963306
Once again Calix caught himself yelling out to the guards "There's no need for violence, this is all just a misunderstanding!"

For the upteenth time he wondered wether it had been a good choice to leave his uncle's dubious enterprise to venture into wild, untamed lands with this group of gung-ho bounty hunters: he certainly had gotten into a lot more trouble than he had accounted for when he first heard their offer and promises of riches, glory and gorgeous exotic women. Again he felt a little bit homesick, where it was comfortable and safe...

As the guards looked at him questioningly, he sighed and thought back how much easier it was to lie to people who weren't constantly suspicious of newcomers. As his thoughts raced through his head, an explosion shook the village and the thatched roof of the village chief came raining down on the little establishment: the guards hurriedly left them alone to find out what had happened. Certainly the group's alchemist would soon return with that cheeky grin they all knew and loved to see when a diversion had worked perfectly.

Once the guards were out of sight, he allowed himself to break his poker face and smiled as he returned to the inn for a quick rest and say his goodbyes to the ladies of the establishment.

>>49968634
Zeneth flexed his arm, the arcane glyphs winding across his hand flaring to life as expected. He stood for a moment, absorbing energy from his home world's twin suns, their energy would be the fuel for his flame. His luminescent skin flashed steadily as he soaked up power, feeling the heat rising within him as he surveyed the surrounding area with his shimmering red eyes.

A pop of mental energy to his right, the commanders words danced through his mind as though he was standing right next to him. "Prelate Zeneth, we will not reach you in time, retreat from your current position immediately."

Zeneth gave what could equate to a mental sigh, closing his eyes briefly. He was beyond hope now, and gave himself over to the flame. As fire danced across his pale flesh, he felt it's power, but no pain. This was what he wanted, how he wanted to die.

As his enemies flowed over the ridge ahead of him, an unstoppable tide of teeth and claws, Zeneth gave one last mental cry, his clan's age old battle chant. The dirt at his feet flew up with the force of his shout, as he raised his arm towards his foes. Fire leapt forth, and all was lost in the searing heat.

>>49966279
The sheriff was dead, of that he could be sure. TX-237 surveyed the scene. The jailhouse was in shambles, bullet holes piercing the walls like swiss cheese. A glance outside revealed the attackers were still there, shouting for the sheriff to come out and die like a man.

TX-237 examined his terminal, it's keys now stained with blood. It seems the sheriff had activated him shortly before he died. But what could he do now?

The only thing he could think of.

TX-237 donned the sheriffs attire, managing to wedge his badge into his lower chassis were it was visible. He made sure his pistols were loaded before stepping outside. He shambled awkwardly onto the patio of the jailhouse, activating his external speakers.

His metallic voice echoed across the streets "Reach for the skies!"

A bullet ricocheted off his plating. It was settled.
Targeting systems whirred to life, and he opened fire.
Twelve shots rang out and twelve men met their maker.

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>>49962673

Corinth stood at the top of the hill with his best friend.
" Oh Corinth, dinosaurs aren't real, everyone knows it ! Orcs, Goblins, and magic is real, but of course, there's no way in heck that giant lizards are real ! " he muttered to himself, mimicking his superiors.
Getting away from his old life was one of the best choices he had made. He was finally free to wander, to explore, to live his life to the fullest without hinderence - not counting the whole having-to-kill-other-giant-lizards thing.

>>49963306
>>49968922
Unfortunately, Calix found himself waking up with a spear pointed at his face.
" You've been put under arrest for public indecency, theft, murder.... "
Calix had been rotting in his cell for quite a while before a smile lit his face - his brother Eurymachus, prince of Yamilda, had come to rescue him.
The slender boy stared at his brother before sighing once again.
" How many times will I find you like this ? How many times must I come and urge you to live like the royalty that's in your bloodline ? How many times will you agree before preparing a dashing escape back to your friends once more, to live your needlessly dangerous life ? "

The gruff bounty hunter stroked his beard before saying " It's going to take a lot of reasons for me to ever go home. "

>>49959978
Shen The Red Arrow was well known across the entirety of Shina. A ruthless mercenary who was not to be crossed, and could kill just about anyone, for the right price.

Shen wondered why these men thought they could best him as he urged his horse forward, loosing another arrow at his pursuers, it was beyond comprehension.

The arrow struck it's intended target easily, piercing the bounty hunters laminated armor. Another down, only five left. A few moments later and the hunters lay in shambles across the road, arrows sticking from their corpses at harsh angles.

The Red Arrow examined their bodies, they must have been paid much to afford armor and weapons like these. They almost rivaled his own in terms of quality.
While searching his attackers he found the note. A formal letter from the Emperor's adviser. It seems the Emperor felt Shen was too dangerous to continue living, a foolish notion.

Months later Shen found himself in the capital. He stood on the tiled rooftop overlooking the Emperors palace. The massive crowd gathered below cheered their adoration for their traitor Emperor and Shen scowled.
He took time preparing his longbow, stringing it with care, and selecting the arrow he would need to make the shot. The arrows itself was remarkable in it's own right, almost a meter long, with a heavy, winglike tip, and extra wide fletching. It would fly true, Shen could be sure of that.

Shen waited until the Emperor was standing on the balcony, ready to address the crowd. He drew his long bow, the wood groaning with the effort. Shen focused, raising the bow, and exhaled, releasing his killing shot.

>>49961187
I don't know enough about 40k to do this one...
I also can't post pictures since I'm at work.

I hope people enjoy Zeneth, the alien pyromancer, TX-237, the metal sheriff, and Shen the Red Arrow, greatest archer alive.

>>49961187
Ril woke up with a crushing headache. Goddamn it, what the hell had happened last night? He checked his immediate surroundings. A field? How the hell had he ended up in a fiel-

Eldar! Of course, it was the work of a damned party-animal Eldar, who else would drag an unconscious drunk out into a field and wait for them to wake up, all for the giggles? He took a swig of whatever he had left of his drink... and tasted nothing. In fact, he couldn't feel anything either. Had the elfy-boy slipped him something? Had he...? Oh no.

Oh no. That wasn't skin, was it?

>>49971868
>Skelly Helper may not have been the most succesful businessman, he was dead for starters, that never stopped him from concluding a good deal though. Plus being dead had its perks, he never had to eat for one, and didn't have to wash his hat and coat frequently as he didn't produce any of the clinging odours that living, breathing humans loved to produce so much.
>As his name implied, he was a helper as well as a skeleton. His master was a regular human, advanced in age to such a degree that Skelly probably had greater vitality and vigour than he. Despite the master-servant dynamic they became and remained good friends throughout his servitude, and everyone was shocked when on his deathbed the master promised to leave all his wealth to Skelly Helper.
>Well what was a skeleton to do with such money? He had no need for fancy things in his life for he was a skeleton. He sat alone in the grand manor listening to the clocks tick as he idly watched his pile of coins. Some nights he would look through his lost friends possessions, looking at memories that he never had a chance to live.
>One such night he found a new box he had never seen before and started to look through it. Old faded photographs of a dashing young man standing next to a motorcar. His old friend had one passion in life and that was motoring, even as age took its toll and he could no longer work the pedals, he still loved to remember the days when the wind whipped in his hair and roared in his ears.
>It was at this moment that Skelly new what he was going to do.
>He was going to become the greatest racecar driver ever and make Rocket Racer look like the bitch he was. His first stop: The Imperial Grand Prix.

That went all sorts of directions.

>>49971840
Gwenn is the last of her kind, an ancient order of sorcerous casters known as the Myconomancers, and now she was left with a choice, take on an apprentice, or let her order die for good.

As she wandered the swamps that were her home, she tended to the fungi as she always did, but inside she was numb. She had learned what was to come for her, the signs had already begun, small growths beginning to form on her body gave away the presence of The Spore.

The Spore had taken her teacher away from her, as it had apparently done time and time before she was even born. The Spore lay dormant when it was implanted into her, giving her access to these powers. She remembered her indoctrination fondly, her masters approving smile. A twinge of sadness passed over her face, and was gone again just as quickly.

The patted her frog familiar Tidbit on his slimy head. "We shall figure this out little, The Spore won't have another, I will live on."

>>49972036
That ending was unexpected. But not unwelcome.
GO SPEED SKELLY GO.

>>49971766
>A middle aged man sits in a creaky old chair, addressing a young man nearby.
"They say the Doctor is a man underneath that suit. Me? I'm not so sure. I've seen what he does to his victims. Waits for the plague to weaken them, then cuts em' up with that knife of his. All the while he's ranting and raving about purifying the land. What a load."
>The man lets out a series of violent coughs, blood splattering his handkerchief.
"You know, I heard that Antilla started the plague themselves, put it in the water to weaken us before the war. Then this Plague Doctor shows up and starts tearing into people who get sick. I've seen what he can do with my own eyes, he's fast, he's stronger than five men on his own. Ain't no way that thing is human under there."
>A sharp knock sounds at the door, the sound of strained breathing can be heard as an eerie green light seeps under the door. The man let's out another fit of coughs.
"It's time for you to go boy, out the back, quick now."
>The man bend down, retrieving his shotgun from short table he'd left it on. When the boy had gone, he called out to the guest waiting at the front door. The Doctor entered like a phantom, slipping under the door in a rush of green slime. The Doctor reformed, looming tall over the man. The green tinge of magic still seeping off his fingers. A wicked knife in his hand. The shotgun blast took a chunk of the Doctors chest out, the wound seeped green ooze instead of blood. The man coughed again.
"Well shit, you really ain't human after all."
>The Doctors knife came swiftly.

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>>49972770
Krisk is a pirate, He wasn't a pirate by choice but more necessity. He was originally a shaman of the backwater swamp he grew up. But when men started to move more inland, he and his people fought aggressively to defend their territory from the encroaching humans.

One raid went horribly wrong and he was gang pressed by one of the human leaders to serve as an auxilary on his ship. He resents this 'enslavement' (if you can call it that) but he also finds it liberating that he can defend the rest of the natural world than just his home.

He is incredibly homesick.

>>49972036
11/10

>>49977102
Mez'la was born in a tribal village. Her father upset their nature shaman by hunting an animal and not saying the special prayer and burning sacred incense. He was executed and she was sent into the swamp as repayment for the lose of life.
However here bitter hatred for the small minded men who killed her father and left her for dead poisoned the ground beneath her. She attracted a spirit of death and disease who promised her power and vengeance in exchange for being a shaman of toxic spirits and granting them offering of rotting flesh and helping spread disease and illness to those that cross her path.

>>49978437

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=SdHtI5fZHhY

>>49978012
I had everything in life.
Power.
Women.
Money.
Freedom.
I should've been happy. My wives loved me and so did the children. I could buy anything and anyone i wanted.
But something wasn't right.
I felt hollow, empty inside. Nothing seemed to please me, although nothing upset me either. I simply lost all emotion.
And so I sat in my library, thinking.
And I sat.
And sat.
Until eventually I died.
That didn't stop me though, I need answers.
And so I wait pondering life before and after death, wondering what the secret to eternal happiness is.
I doubt I'll ever know.

>>49977102

Bones never lie.

Tossing the small collection of knuckles, fingers and toes into the bowl once more, the reading was the same. Someone would come today. Someone who brought trouble and hope in equal measure.

Peering over the bowl and into the cloud of fog, she crooked her neck, straining her hearing for any sign of movement. It had been a long time since she had company. The pact that bound her to the swamps was both a curse and a source of strength. While she was powerful beyond measure in her territory, only those chosen by the spirits would be able to find and learn from her. Over the decades, the pacts she made from the spirits surrounded her every move gave her no longer resisted her, just trust and guidance. But people rarely survived long enough to even sense her presence watching them. It was a lonely existence, not for the faint of heart.

Rapid footfalls broke her from her revere. By the time she stood, the child was skidding to a halt. Wide-eyed and breathless, she was clearly afraid, but the terror which clutched her heart was not of the crone before her, but from something she now pointed to behind her. Struggling to control herself, the child's voice was lost in the wind for a moment.

"Breathe, child. Tell me what brings you here."

Though it was clearly painful for her, the child did as she asked, composing herself as best she could. "Devils! Devils in giant boats have come from the ocean! They're killing everyone in the village!"

Whirling around, the crone hunched over her tome, instantly turning to the pages she sought and chanting a simple incantation. The spirits spoke to the crone instantly. Devils...that was both the curse and the cure. And the child was strong to reach her unaided and unharmed, strong enough to be her heir.

The crone let the spirits flow through her, calling back to her new companion. "You have done well to bring this to me child. And worry not, for the dead will soon aid the living in clearing the shores."

>>49981483
Volkard was intelligent, for an orc. So intelligent, that when war broke out in the frozen North he was made a commander in the First Battalion. Despite his bravery and skill in combat, earning him the nickname Iron Wolf, he had grown tired of the seemingly endless conflict, and wished only for peace, an opinion that was unfortunately not shared by his soldiers or his higher ups.

Bump, Don't let the thread die!

>>49971461
It was early in the morning when The Stranger walked into the saloon.

Neither the saloon nor the town it was in were of any particular importance in this instance. It was just an your average, shoddy, held-together-with-spit-an'-elbow-grease shack with just enough booze to be called a bar, and with furniture that had just enough cloth to be called a bed. The town had sprung up like all the Other assortment of shacks in the state: around prospectors look to make a quick buck, and outlaws waiting to take it from them. The "town", if you could call it that, was so new that it wasn't even on any proper maps yet, and by time some noticed that it existed, it would already be long abandoned by its builders, who would leave for the next whisper of treasure, Leaving just another California ghost town.

But all of that was just typical business, not worth causing a fuss about. What made this particular incident stand out, was The Stranger walking in. It wasn't too odd to have the occasional shifty lookin wanderer or vagabond, but they usually tended to not have 6 arms nor look like a standing Grizzly bear. In fact they usually tended to all be completely human, albeit by the loosest definition in some cases. When You saw a Yao Guai out and about, it wasn't cause he was gonna by everyone in the house a round on him, and start getting all buddy and other them.

As he casually sauntered over to the bar, at least as casual as a giant, muscle-bound, deadly, Injun bear spirit could be, The Stranger could feel the Eyes of every patron in the Saloon glaring holes into his plain, tattered coat. They didn't want him there, They just wanted him to leave as fast as he came in. Luckily the feelings were mutual, as he placed an obscenely large wad of dollars down, and ordered a bottle of whisky. Now the Bartender may have hated the Yao, but he couldn't their money.
(Cont.)

>>49988711
(Cont.)

The Stranger kept mostly to himself after that, drinking straight whiskey from a shot glass that looked comedically undersized in his large hands, occasionally lifting his head to survey the room, before burying his muzzle back in his drink.

While music had started playing again and a murmur of conversation started to fill the air again, it was all a facade to mask the practically tangible tension in the room. Everyone was interested and worries about what exactly the Stranger come here for. After All, why would a Yao Guai wander into a seedy bar just to overpay for liquor? Eventually, The Stranger decided that this charade had gone on long enough and motioned the bartender to come closer.

"So, where is he?" His bearitone voice boomed even at a whisper.

The Bartender twitched slightly and muttered "I don' know wha'cher talkin' 'bout..." but before he could leave, a large, clawed, paw made a firm grip on his arm, and a deep gutter all growl convinced him that it was better to not resist.

"You know Goddamn Well who I'm talking about!" The Stranger's voice was getting loud for the whole bar to hear.
"The man, who came in here with a band of 12 of his goons and a stack of cash that makes that pile over there look like pocket change, and probably bought out your entire bar! The Man that I have been tracking across 12 States to this bar! Where Is "Eagle-Eye" Smith! And if you lie again so help me God I'm gonna-" the sound chairs moving behind him caught The Stranger's attention, and without a moments hesitation, dropped the quivering bar and reaches all six arms inside his coat.

What followed can only be described as complete and utter chaos, as the sound of Bullets flying, Glass breaking, and people screaming filled the saloon. At the end of it all, Twelve men lay dead, and all six of the Stranger's hands was smoking gun. The Stranger had not been so lucky as to avoid wounds, but a Bear is tough to kill as it is, let alone Yao Guai.
Cont

>>49989288
>>49989288
Cont.
As he Sheathed his guns, the Stranger used one of his free hands to dislodge the bullets embedded in his body, and splashed the wounds with some leftover whiskey to stave off any infection. The Stranger was quite all to used to this. Being over twice the size of a regular man did not lend itself well to dodging bullets. The Stranger continued his work patiently, while trying to remember where the general store was here and whether or not they stocked bandages, until all the (noticeable) shrapnel had been removed.

"Uh-u-u-uh" The Stranger spun around, pistols drawn! The small and pale old man squeaked at the sight.

Oh. That's right. The bartender. He must have hid behind the bar.

"H-H-He's upst-stairs- and went up there last night with Sammy in room 5, I swear!"

With a grunt of Affirmation, The Stranger made his way up the stairs, stoping half way to survey the destruction he had caused.

"Keep the change" pointing at the wad of money he had placed earlier on the counter, and continued making his way up. Hearing sounds of movement Coming from the room, The Stranger Kicked down the door to find-

...A naked Eagle-Eye, struggling against the bindings at his hands and legs that kept him tied to the bedpost, surrounded by empty bottles.

"Well you seem to have caught me at a bad time friend. Tell you what, you untie these ropes and forget you ever saw this, and I might not blow your brains out for shooting my boys, hows'at so-"

Eagle-Eye got no further before a bear-powered bitchslap broke his jaw and knocked him out cold. The Stranger was in no mood for the Outlaw's banter. He had finally caught his bounty. Once he collected he reward, It would be time to begin a new hunt.

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>>49988711
>>49989288
>>49989822
Holy shit did I get carried away and make this waaaaaaayyyy to long. Jesus Christ, three whole posts. Anyways here's another picture.

Before Bed Bump. Keep the fire goin anons.

>>49968557 constatine inspired Jesus tho, look it up.

Bump from the grave.

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>:3