Post by songofsilence on Jun 25, 2012 0:38:44 GMT
Name: Baiul the Watcher
Age: 97
Gender: Male
Fighting Style: Taijiquan (Chen)
Weapon:
Bo Staff separable by chain into a three-sectioned staff. Single section at either end can be separately disjointed. This weapon is sentient, having an eye on each end of the staff itself but it does not show signs of malfestation or celestial origination. The bronze knob on each end can close, to hide the eye(s).
en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Three-section_staff
Bo Staff separable by chain into a three-sectioned staff. Single section at either end can be separately disjointed. This weapon is sentient, having an eye on each end of the staff itself but it does not show signs of malfestation or celestial origination. The bronze knob on each end can close, to hide the eye(s).
en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Three-section_staff
Weapon Abilities:
All of these are would-be attempts and possible outcomes.
The character's own nature forbids the misuse of these.
*True Sight (As a standard action the weapon may attempt to reveal a hidden individual, object, or location at mutual agreement clause. This effect is only applicable to targets intentionally willing to locate or find, it will not reveal targets not sought.)
*Reveal Truth (As a standard action the weapon may attempt to reveal the truth of a statement at mutual agreement clause.)
*Rift, (As a movement action the weapon may attempt to transport the wielder and everything in physical contact with the wielder. This action may be used in combat to evade a strike as a full action. Meaning this is how an old man dodges, in lack of swift feet. Think a very old Natsu. )
*Soulbound, (As a movement action the weapon may attempt to transport the wielder to itself, or itself to the wielder.)
*Sense Motive, (As a standard action the wielder may use True Sight to sense the presence of a hidden individual, at a mutual agreement clause.)
*Conjure Vision (As a standard action the Eyes may draw rippling transparent images to display or explain something. These visions may seem real, depending on the willpower of the viewer.)
Weapon Name: Shenzhao (The Soul Beyond)
Place of Birth: Tibet
Appearance:
At a mere five feet and five inches of height this old man is hardly an imposing sight or one to stand out of the crowd. His attire complete with loose pants, xiaolin foot wraps, a white silk sash, and an orange hooded overcoat all add to the impression that the blindfolded elderly figure would be a chinese monk. Despite the wrinkles on his face and the slow, staff-empowered stride with a respectable belly and a wine gourd by his side, the powerful stature of the man confesses his former life of physical labour.
Among the various charms and talismans hanging from his neck the most remarkable are the jadestone prayer beads, each round ball at the size of a grown man's fist.
Alliance:
Neutral
Personality:
Generally in good spirits, he avoids combat and even avoids to be seen if he can manage to. He seems to be minding his own business and only ever speak if spoken to, or if there is what for him to say. Hardly slow to make friends, yet reserved in his own right, the jolly old chap seems to be content with sitting at the edge of soul, dangling his feet off of the stage of history.
Background/History:
Part1: What goes around
Born in the historical china prior to our story, the young boy Bao-yang grew up as the son of a rich travelling merchant. He was sheltered and spoiled in every way possible, and quite the brat to begin with. He pulled the ears of his pet rabbits and stepped on ants just to spite his mother's teachings that all life is sacred. He would laugh at the poor and cower when scolded, only to begin his antics anew.
He was a mere ten years old when calamity struck, and his luck had forsaken him. Reaching home from the market one day him and his mother found the housefolk and the father slain, all wealth taken and the animals massacred as well. They were left with nothing, and thus soon they were unable to pay tax to the governor. They were forced out on the street without so much as warm clothes. Come the cold winter he also lost his mother who could not stand the dire conditions and he himself was on the brink of dying from lung infection. Found by an elderly monk, the now eleven years old Bao-yang had no choice but to obey his new shelter's rules.
He was weak and clumsy, and the other young disciples laughed at him and would pull at his long braided ponytail to day's end. He would try to fight but his feet were swept from underneath himself and the stronger child stepped on his face, calling him nothing but a dog. Karma, it became very real for the young boy.
The old man, who turned out to be the abbot of the monastery, has kept his eyes on the boy since very long ago. He knew full well all that which the boy has committed before and he but shook his head, leaving Bao-yang to his own devices for the moment. He knew that there was more to the boy than his mischievious exterior and now suddenly timid, lost and desperate cowering would at first offer.
Beatings became a daily basis, and the young boy turned from violent to silent and from mischievious to lonesome. He had not one single friend, and he would not excel at a single practice of the monks.
Part2 - The ultimate loss
It was an ordinary day like any other. Bao-yang would get his morning beating and then the training would exhaust what little stamina he had gained during the three months spent at the monastery. He knew that this can't go on like this until the end of days, so he fled.
He climbed the front wall and ran, as fast as he could, as far as he could. Sitting down under a tree halfway to the village he closed his eyes, propping his chin on his fists, thinking what to do with himself.
"You cannot run from your problems." - A voice he'd heard before, and boy, did it make him angry to hear this elderly voice again. He wanted nothing to do with his former savior, the hard work, the monastery, or the other monk disciples whatsoever.
"I've had enough of your help old man, leave me alone!" - He snapped, turning to where the voice came from, and seeing no-one. A bop came unto his head, from the other direction. Startled, he scampered backwards on all his fours and hit a pair of legs, the old man standing yet again behind him.
"How did you do that?" - His voice carried a certain fright and astounded curiosity at the same time, looking up towards the elderly figure, who only smiled and took him by the scruff of his robe to stand him up and drag him along: the boy in one hand and his ornate knobbed staff in the other.
Returning to the monastery they found the buildings in flames, the wails of despair and resounding agony carried just as far in the wind as the cinders of collapsing elmwood pillars. The old man dashed at incredible speed not just for his age but any human being, throwing himself into the flames.
Bao-yang wanted to run, but he couldn't. He wanted to escape losing the only one left who cared for him, but instead his legs - the things seemed to know his heart better - took him amidst the cinders and smoke as well.
"Hello? Anybody here?!" - He called out into the blazing darkness and only received his own gut-shaking cough as response at first. He called out again and again, over and over until he heard the call of another familiar voice, finding the boy who beat him so much, stuck under a heavy wooden beam.
"I -- I cannot feel my legs..." - the boy lamented and Bao-yang bent down to try and help him free.
The clash of metal broke the bitter symphony of roaring flames and crackling wooden ash, and through the smoke he beheld the elderly master battle an armoured figure wielding a weapon of nightmare, one he had never seen before. He quickly pushed himself against the beam, finding more strength in fear than any in anger or spite ever prior. He would finally pull his counterpart free who was unable to walk, and thus was needed to be carried.
That moment a colossal blow echoed across the charred hall, the lifeless body of his master crashing into the last safe pillar of the room, his ornate staff colliding with Bao-yang's stomach, making him double over. He looked up at the falling ceiling, and that was the last thing he saw: the cinders falling straight into his eyes blinded him for life.He blindly reached for the staff for support, holding onto his arch-nemesis for life, dragging both of them towards where he remembered the exit would be.
Hours later they sat beside the charred ruins of the monastery, his now crippled friend and himself. The medicine man stated so, that he would never see again and Wu-Lei would never walk.
He sat, holding unto his master's staff, and despaired.
"I have lost my father, my mother, my home, now my master and home." - Wu-Lei frowned and punched him in the arm as hard as he could, making the blind boy wince.
"You can at least walk you booger."
Relations:
Coming Soon
Additional Information:
Coming Soon