Post by namorel on Jul 29, 2017 0:12:53 GMT
Name: Namorel
Nicknames/Titles: Nam, Warrior Clansmen
Race: Namekian (Warrior)
Starting Abilities:
Tier 1
Great Namekian
Warrior Clansmen are born with the ability to increase their size.
This ups their defense one tier, but not their offense. This tires them out
And can on;y be used for 5 posts maximum
Age: 85 Years Old
Gender: Null, Looks Male
Personality:
Namorel is a traditionalist of his kin the namekians. In general, this means that he is rather xenophobic, preferring to avoid larger sums of aliens who visit his planet or his people in general. By general suggestion this generates a subtle racism in the middle aged namekians. This also, however, means that his incentive to protect his people is greater than maintaining his own life, putting himself on the line to protect others over himself.
Appearance:
Namorel stands at 7'10" and weights about 215lbs.
History:
Sometimes we aren't the strongest, sometimes it is our heart that makes us strong, but sometimes we lack both. Enter Namorel, your typical warrior class namekian. Born on Namek along with the next generation of warrior caste namekians. In the begginging he showed a fairly adept grasp on his fighting abilities, slowly rising tot he top of his group, that is until he had to watch his father die slowly, due to the nature of the death it was heavy on the hearts of many namekians, but of the young trainees that took it the hardest was Namorel. For months he would take his time to meditate on his existence and on whether he would be able to save others when their life was in peril, he refused to realize there was nothing he could have done to save his father. These months of meditation slowly put him behind his siblings and fellow trainees, it soon began obvious enough that Namorel saw this gap widening and became disheartened, he had sworn to defend those who would need his assistance, but as his weakness began to show he felt incapable of this.
Years seemed to pass so quickly, Namorel did his best to keep up with his siblings, taking every hour of his energy to catch up to the weakest of those stronger than him. Jealousy began to develop in his heart, he was unsure if this was the drive he felt, or if deep down he still believed in the promise he had made. It was about a week later when he was approached by his sensei, the namekian that had been training him and his siblings for the last few years, telling him to see the caste elder; Namorel was worried, few had seen him in such haste and those that did were either conscripted to greater training or had to leave the village. Namorel was still young and his heart roared as it pulsed in his chest. The setting got progressively worse as there was no one else in or around the hut, just a peculiar atmosphere, both searing and frigid at the same time.
Namorel walked in, his hands and antennae shaking of fear. "Don't be scared, you are here out of concern and have done nothing wrong." He heard from the older namekian sitting at the end of the building. Another stood beside him, the sensei. Namorel walked up to them, still scared for the outcome of the matter at hand. "Your teacher has told me that he feels a sorrow and weight on your heart." The elder says, hoping Namorel will respond. He nods his head and still looks to the older namek as he knew this wasn't all. "I have also been told that you are falling behind the others, what is the matter?" THe elder finally asks the reason for the calling. "I can't save them all..." is all Namorel could say, the details still hurt him. Concern became obvious in the elder's eyes. He looked down at the younger namekian from his chair. "Sometimes strength is only limited by what is in your heart." The elder said this and gestured for Namorel to leave, with this in mind Namorel began training again with the rest.
Many, many more years pass and it comes time for the initiation into the official warrior 'militia', many of the stronger trainees were ecstatic, but Namorel wasn't, he knew he couldn't go through with it. He had to leave Namek so he could start anew. The conflictions of his promise to himself and what the elder told him rang in his mind. What was right, one's heart or the strength they possess to defend others? Namorel ran to the closest trading depot that kept routes with Earth, he aimed to find a ship to stow away on, to get somewhere far from home. It took him no time to find a ship large enough to stow away a fully grown namekian,tucking himself in the cargo hold and turning his back on his home... on his family, to start anew with no one to support him or to help him in his time of need, but it is common knowledge... some heroes start alone.
Techniques:
Pocket Salt:
Namorel throws salt at the opponent to sun them at close range. This can only be used twice per thread due to his salt supply.
Namek Finger:
Using the ability to control his body, Namorel pokes the opponent with his finger as hard as he can.
Weakness:
Salt
Namorel has a inborn weakness to salt, it dries him out and everybody knows how weak namekians are to being dried out. This may seem like a non battle weakness but if somebody were to figure this out they could easily half his Focus for the rest of the fight unless he re-hydrates himself
Namekian pride
If somebody offends the namekian pride, Namorel will be susceptible to flying in to beat the snot out of everybody coming nearby.
Even if it means stretching across a ocean with his arm to slap them
Tone deaf
Namorel can barely hear things around him, mostly using ki to sense and replace things, but if one were to mask his energy completely, they could easily stab him in the back.
Nicknames/Titles: Nam, Warrior Clansmen
Race: Namekian (Warrior)
Starting Abilities:
Tier 1
Great Namekian
Warrior Clansmen are born with the ability to increase their size.
This ups their defense one tier, but not their offense. This tires them out
And can on;y be used for 5 posts maximum
Age: 85 Years Old
Gender: Null, Looks Male
Personality:
Namorel is a traditionalist of his kin the namekians. In general, this means that he is rather xenophobic, preferring to avoid larger sums of aliens who visit his planet or his people in general. By general suggestion this generates a subtle racism in the middle aged namekians. This also, however, means that his incentive to protect his people is greater than maintaining his own life, putting himself on the line to protect others over himself.
Appearance:
Namorel stands at 7'10" and weights about 215lbs.
History:
Sometimes we aren't the strongest, sometimes it is our heart that makes us strong, but sometimes we lack both. Enter Namorel, your typical warrior class namekian. Born on Namek along with the next generation of warrior caste namekians. In the begginging he showed a fairly adept grasp on his fighting abilities, slowly rising tot he top of his group, that is until he had to watch his father die slowly, due to the nature of the death it was heavy on the hearts of many namekians, but of the young trainees that took it the hardest was Namorel. For months he would take his time to meditate on his existence and on whether he would be able to save others when their life was in peril, he refused to realize there was nothing he could have done to save his father. These months of meditation slowly put him behind his siblings and fellow trainees, it soon began obvious enough that Namorel saw this gap widening and became disheartened, he had sworn to defend those who would need his assistance, but as his weakness began to show he felt incapable of this.
Years seemed to pass so quickly, Namorel did his best to keep up with his siblings, taking every hour of his energy to catch up to the weakest of those stronger than him. Jealousy began to develop in his heart, he was unsure if this was the drive he felt, or if deep down he still believed in the promise he had made. It was about a week later when he was approached by his sensei, the namekian that had been training him and his siblings for the last few years, telling him to see the caste elder; Namorel was worried, few had seen him in such haste and those that did were either conscripted to greater training or had to leave the village. Namorel was still young and his heart roared as it pulsed in his chest. The setting got progressively worse as there was no one else in or around the hut, just a peculiar atmosphere, both searing and frigid at the same time.
Namorel walked in, his hands and antennae shaking of fear. "Don't be scared, you are here out of concern and have done nothing wrong." He heard from the older namekian sitting at the end of the building. Another stood beside him, the sensei. Namorel walked up to them, still scared for the outcome of the matter at hand. "Your teacher has told me that he feels a sorrow and weight on your heart." The elder says, hoping Namorel will respond. He nods his head and still looks to the older namek as he knew this wasn't all. "I have also been told that you are falling behind the others, what is the matter?" THe elder finally asks the reason for the calling. "I can't save them all..." is all Namorel could say, the details still hurt him. Concern became obvious in the elder's eyes. He looked down at the younger namekian from his chair. "Sometimes strength is only limited by what is in your heart." The elder said this and gestured for Namorel to leave, with this in mind Namorel began training again with the rest.
Many, many more years pass and it comes time for the initiation into the official warrior 'militia', many of the stronger trainees were ecstatic, but Namorel wasn't, he knew he couldn't go through with it. He had to leave Namek so he could start anew. The conflictions of his promise to himself and what the elder told him rang in his mind. What was right, one's heart or the strength they possess to defend others? Namorel ran to the closest trading depot that kept routes with Earth, he aimed to find a ship to stow away on, to get somewhere far from home. It took him no time to find a ship large enough to stow away a fully grown namekian,tucking himself in the cargo hold and turning his back on his home... on his family, to start anew with no one to support him or to help him in his time of need, but it is common knowledge... some heroes start alone.
Techniques:
Pocket Salt:
Namorel throws salt at the opponent to sun them at close range. This can only be used twice per thread due to his salt supply.
Namek Finger:
Using the ability to control his body, Namorel pokes the opponent with his finger as hard as he can.
Weakness:
Salt
Namorel has a inborn weakness to salt, it dries him out and everybody knows how weak namekians are to being dried out. This may seem like a non battle weakness but if somebody were to figure this out they could easily half his Focus for the rest of the fight unless he re-hydrates himself
Namekian pride
If somebody offends the namekian pride, Namorel will be susceptible to flying in to beat the snot out of everybody coming nearby.
Even if it means stretching across a ocean with his arm to slap them
Tone deaf
Namorel can barely hear things around him, mostly using ki to sense and replace things, but if one were to mask his energy completely, they could easily stab him in the back.
