[Community Fun] Daily Character Creation Contest

[Deli]

#20 Mjollnir

Prologue

I'd like to tell you a story, a story about how I came into being. It's not a particularly nice story, but it needs to be told nonetheless. It is expected of me.

It all began five years ago...

Part One - The End

"Confound it! We' ve lost contact with the main host!"

The anguished message crackled over the Eorzean Alliance linkpearl and went silent as Mjollnir faced off against three Imperial soldiers. He swung his axe around and roared a challenge. “Garlean snots, I'm here to axe you a question!” The shifting purple haze of Mor Dhona gave their armour an unreal tinge, but Mjollnir knew that, beneath the masks, they were just men. And had he not confronted the madman Van Darnus himself, high on Rivenroad, just earlier that month, and prevailed? Men were nothing to him.

Before he could engage the Imperial trio, a giant Roegadyn, all muscle and darksteel, thundered past him knocking him to the ground. “Bugger it,” he fumed. Other adventurers, furious pieces of this now-dishevelled vanguard, charged in - shining weaponry dancing around, about, and through their enemies. Mjollnir flipped to his feet, readjusted his helm and hefted the huge axe he'd bought recently from one of the multitude of traders in the Market Ward. The Market Wards reminded him of this battle, out here in Mor Dhona - all legs and shouting and no room to manoeuvre.

Before he could join the fray, the Imperials were down, crushed by ancient relics and primal-spawned trophies, wielded by Eorzea's strongest and brightest. The tumult raged onward and Mjollnir sought to follow, but instead tripped on the severed head of a bearded Imperial, no longer with that maddened glint in his eye. Mjol hit the floor in a half-roll and ended up on his back next to the corpse of a red-haired Miqo'te. At least he assumed she had been red-haired - it was hard to tell, what with all the blood.

"By Nald's left testicle!" he exclaimed, a little too loudly. There was no response from his linkshell.

Only half an hour ago he had been sat with his companions by the lake at Camp Brittlebark, anticipating the glory that would soon be theirs. Tenatzen, Skeezix, Eldak, Seth, Autumn, Ema, Neliya, the one they call 'Butterballs'... They had been separated at the start of the battle - Mjol could only assume now that they were dead. Likewise, the legends that had gathered around the central campfire; Rokien, Gath, Junpei, Kira, and all of the lesser-known, but equally brave (or equally stupid) folk, standing against this incursion of Darnus' darkest darkness.

Mjol sighed and stood up, resolved to fight until the end, if the chance were offered. The purple mist, suffused with arcane cracklesparks and smoke from wrecked war machines, shrouded everything around him. Then, one by one, adventurers came flying out of the mist, each making their own particular death-call as they passed by, over Mjol's head. An Elezen, long neck twisted at a quite uncomfortable angle, crashed to the ground a yalm away with a bellow; his ornate armour bending, breaking and digging ruts out of the hard earth. Then came the determined Roegadyn, his upper body and left arm crashing down by Mjol's axe; the rest of him tumbling to the ground like a wet sack, a thoroughly inconsiderate distance away.

Now through the smoke came a Magitek monstrosity, a Garlean defilement of nature twenty feet high, its twisting and turning motors drowning out nearby sound, its limbs adorned with guts and gore gifted by the Eorzean Alliance. Mjol smiled; it was his turn.

Diving beneath the mechanized maelstrom of whirling drills and blades, Mjol positioned himself behind his opponent. He caught sight, briefly, of a mage in black on a nearby hill and was sure the wizard had seen him. If he could get the steel sentinel to focus its attacks on himself, he hoped the spellcaster would send aid in the form of unholy bolts of power from afar. Mjollnir began his work.

After a few minutes though, there had been no help forthcoming. "Bloody sorcerors!" cried Mjol. The metal machine hit hard, but hit rarely, and Mjol could take those hits and recover, given time. However, he was doing very little to slow the capricious construct that he was facing and so spat another curse to Thaumaturges into the mud at his feet while he considered his options.

Fortune smiled and he didn't have to consider for long; a rain of eldritch arrows careened with mystical accuracy into the bipedal beast. The impacts continued relentlessly until the ensanguined engine crumpled and seized, lifeless as the land around it. Mjol looked about for his saviour and comrade-in-arms, but he could see nothing through the haze. He could only hear the sounds of heavily armoured warriors running about the battlefield, punctuated with the screams and moans of the dying.

Clambering up the ruined Magitek he had recently fought, Mjol had a better position to view the area around him. The visor on his headpiece had jammed again, so he tore the horned helmet from his head and tossed it upon the ground. The fog and smoke were low-lying, so he could see reasonably far from this higher vantage point; however, it seemed there was little to see. The battle here was over – in the distance, a column of Imperial war machines marched southward to Carteneau Flats where the soldiers of the Grand Companies awaited them; the last line of defence between the crazed invaders and civilised lands. Above that wretched place loomed the sick moon Dalamud, warped and corrupted by Imperial machinations, unguided and rampant, sure to unleash some magical aether-storm on all and sundry, palpably crackling with evil energies.

He was alone. All around lay adventurers; no White Mage nor Conjurer to revive them, no aetheryte crystal to reconstitute them. Blood, bone, and muscle twisted in unnatural ways by unnatural forces. Weapons with no-one to wield them lay discarded and unused. Armour protected body parts which no longer served a purpose. Mjol looked down at his own legs, which had remained intact despite the Imperials' best efforts. The distance to Carteneau was long, and his legs were short but, as Kan-E-Senna had probably said to him, “It is your destiny.” Destiny to turn up late and miss the most important battle Eorzea was to see this age, Mjol thought miserably. He began his relentless jog to the South when, all of a sudden, Dalamud opened.

Interlude

Dreams..? A dragon, and a creature spawned from the darkness, deep beneath the earth. Faceless allies battling with him down there. Then the wind, on chocoboback. A sunny, shining landscape, like the Gridania he knew, yet so unlike it. Fierce creatures. Battle joined. Joy in combat and friendship. Then back, beneath the earth. The dragon. The dream cycled endlessly.

Part Two - Reborn

Hear... Feel... Think...

Mjollnir opened his eyes, blinded by the light of the crystal, floating in darkness as he seemed also to be.

Was he awake?

Hear... Feel... Th...

“What the absolute fuck?” interrupted Mjol.

Warrior of the Light, it is time for your journey to continue... I am Hydaelyn, the Mothercrystal.

Mjollnir floated in the nothing, mouth agape, as figures rushed past him, leaving glittering trails that contrasted sharply with the boundless black.

But I sense a disquiet within you...

“Everyone I know is dead, I've been stuck in a repeating nightmare for what seems like an endless amount of time, I'm talking to a rock, and there are Lalafell and Roegadyn floating, no.. zooming past me as if they were Sylphs who had eaten too many bubble chocolates. Disquiet is very much all about me!”

Within your soul... It is conflicted... I sense... A Warrior's heart... But frustration... Your heritage impairs your potential...

“What in the seven hells are you saying, you crazy piece of compressed crud? Do you mean that us Lalafell aren't wilful enough to be warriors? Aren't mighty enough to maraud? Aren't prepared enough to.. to.. pugile??”

It is not that... It is you... If you are to find your destiny, you must leave that part of you behind...

“Leave the Lalafell part of me behind? But that's all of me! Listen, I understand you've probably got a lot to do, but I'm having a really bad day and I'd appreciate it if you could just... leave me be..?”

It is not all of you... Leave it... Come into the light... The Warrior's heart... Become a Warrior of the Light...

Deep down, Mjol knew this voice, that Echoed round inside his head, was right. For too long he had been underestimated by the folk of Eorzea. They had presumed that, due to his stature and his jolly anecdotes, he was not worthy of the tasks that others could overcome on the front line of battle. He had never been asked along to raid the Aurum Vale, had never faced Good King Moggle Mog XII in combat; never challenged Ifrit or Garuda to prove his prowess. He had never been worthy to quest for the legendary Bravura.

He floated forward into the light...

… and straight through the crystal! Turning in mid-nothingness, shocked, he faced Hydaelyn, which now seemed a lot smaller. Confused, he looked down. What he saw was unfamiliar, and yet so familiar. His frame, that of a Hellsguard, reflected his spirit, his might. The light-hearted jibes, the cheeky quips had no place here. Indeed, what was that meek creature that he could see through the crystal, curled up from whence he had came?

The Lalafell part of you... This is Totomojo... I will send him to a place where he will be safe, to live among the Moogles...

Mjollnir looked again at the tiny, orange-haired creature, who was snoring softly, head resting on its arms resting on.. nothing. He would not miss what he was leaving here today. The weakness, the distraction from combat. He turned and faced the light, to embrace his destiny, and on a trail of Sylph sparkles he was gone – to walk the lands of Eorzea anew. Without getting lost in the grass.

Totomojo yawned and rolled over. Something akin to a chuckle, if an oversized gemstone could chuckle, was heard in the near vicinity. Then Totomojo disappeared with a soft 'pop', wholly unaware of his origins, to live a life far, far away from the entities who had made him, were part of him.

Epilogue

And that is how I was born. In shadow I remained, as Hydaelyn fawned over her newest “Warriors of the Light”. Those creatures, with their foolish mannerisms, their flawed personalities, their inability to see the implications of what had just occurred, were the chaff to be cast off. Not I. I am the part of them that is intelligence, wisdom, practicality, and a healthy dose of realism.

Born of the crystal, yet not of the crystal.

I retreated far from that glaring light, deep into the dark void – for Void is what it is - until I came across dwellers in that nightscape who bade me return to Eorzea and walk as one of these “Warriors”. I am among you now, yet you do not know my name. My time will come, and the ground of Aldenard will run red with your lifebloods once more.

Ahahahaha. Ahahahahaha. Ahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahaha!!! Hah.

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#21 Catapult

Thal Icebound had rather... religious parents, shall we say? You can probably guess who they worshiped.
Fanatically.
Enough to die for.
Literally.

That was when he was 7 years old. Despite the best efforts of the Arzanaeth Ossuary, he got carted from the family home in Ul'dah to his uncle's place in Gridania (thank Menphina). After growing up and earning enough cash, he managed to buy his way back to Ul'dah where his memories resided to try and pick up the threads of his childhood. That's where the fun really began.

Geomancy is a tricky art. Most of its secrets are jealously protected by the Goblins and Kobolds, but that just makes cracking it open more fun.
An intimate familiarity with the land is essential to learning Geomancy, but we're talking one that is just as scientific as it is religious. Being an adventurer with Thaumaturgical parentage and Conjurers in his upbringing, Thal was well placed to study the land at the bequest of Milvaneth Sacrarium. This task gives him a surprisingly large amount of freedom, allowing him to explore various disciplines as he sees fit - in fact his employers expect it in the interests of exploring alternative means to trace aether through the land, as they encourage his affiliation to the Order of the Twin Adder.

As for why they want someone like Thal to unlock Geomancy? That's a little less clear...
Oddly enough, the calamity may have erased people's memory of his deeds in the months before the battle of Carteneuax, but not of his contractual obligations.

Likes: Rare and odd rocks and gemstones, aetherial insights, the occasional Tia in need of some "stress relief".

Dislikes: Lalafellian Lentils, pesky moles, women looking for a date.

#22 _pops

Bio:
Name: Niccolo Tornincasa
Race: Male Seeker of the Sun Miqo'te
Age: 29
Nameday: 3rd Sun of the 5th Astral Moon
Deity: Azeyma, the Warden

Once a Midland Hyur but suffered a hiccup while being transported to the future by Louisoux, Niccolo starts THE REALM REBORN journey anew.

His surname was changed because he was "adopted" by a family when he was found unconscious in the Thanalan desert. He willingly accepted this surname as a token of respect to the father of the family. They had a son who was weak and ill and passed away before the calamity. The father saw Niccolo as a son, albeit for a brief period of time, but has done enough for the family to be considered as one.

The surname Tornincasa is generally given to a boy born after the death of a previous one, considering this was fitting for Niccolo because of the family's previous son's death. Note: I also wanted to keep the memory of Nicco. I was really close to changing the name entirely, but Nicco has stuck with me and I feel that I should keep it in good faith. Tornincasa also means "come back home," and because technically the old Niccolo is "dead," I felt the name Niccolo Tornincasa was perfect.

Since all 1.0 characters are considered the Warriors of Light, I wanted to reflect this by brightening the eye color. Old Nicco had light eyes too, but were closer to gray, so I went three shades brighter. In essence, it's like the "light of the crystal blah blah" shines within him. *SHINE BRIGHT LIKE A DIAMOND*

I tried very hard to basically make the manqo'te version of Nicco and make him identical to his previous Hyur version.

Other than looks, Nicco is a hard-headed, sarcastic dingus. Once he gets comfortable with you, expect him to mess with you from time to time. He's not always a dingus, though. He has a soft heart and will be there for you if you need help, whatever the means, he'll do whatever he can in the best of his abilities. (tsundere?)

He's also a bit of a ladies AND 'mens man. He believes love is universal and doesn't mind being with a man or a woman. He likes to flirt way too often for his own good, too.

Opposite Char Submission are:

#1 Deli:

female, small, long hair, dark skin, weird eye colors, evil looking

#2 Mjollnir

my 'shadow'-alt...laughing maniacally!

#3 Beowolf