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Leroy
A tall man in heavy armor stared directly into the eyes of a motionless demon. The huge monster seemed to silently mock the squad of warriors, who appeared so weak and fragile compared to him.
-- Courage, brave warriors! -- shouted the commander, that very warrior in armor. -- We must either win or die as heroes!
-- We will all perish here... -- whispered one of the soldiers, a young man of about seventeen.
-- Follow me! -- ignoring the words of the youth, with these words the leader rushed into a frontal attack on the demon. After more than two decades of service and hunting demons and mental entities, the warrior had almost forgotten how to feel fear – it was replaced by an awareness of the need to fulfill his duty and at the same time – an awareness of the inevitability of death. Life is too ephemeral to cling to it.
He managed to withstand the first blow from the demon and inflict two blows in return, but the opponent was too strong even for him. The next strike knocked him down like a splinter and threw him aside. And darkness fell.
Barely regaining consciousness, Leroy felt severe pain. The demon's claws pierced the armor, leaving deep wounds on his stomach, and the helmet looked more like a dented bucket, from under which blood flowed. With annoyance, he pushed it away and examined the site of the recent battle, and the pain subsided, leaving only a burning feeling of shame.
It was a nightmare. His entire squad died in this battle. Some, apparently, tried to escape, but could they really escape from such a creature? Some bodies were gnawed, others simply crushed into bloody pulp. Beside himself with rage, Leroy grabbed his sword and chased after the demon, forgetting about the pain.
Of course, this did not lead to success. It was too late. Exhausted, the warrior fell onto the grass and remembered what the church had taught him. Courage and resilience, patience and calmness.
-- Courage and resilience. Patience and calmness. Courage and resilience. Patience and calmness... -- he muttered mechanically, dragging the remains of the soldiers to the city for burial. He must report to the governor about the mission and explain himself. He must tell the families of the deceased and offer condolences. But most importantly – forgive himself and find justification for surviving when everyone else perished – he is unlikely to ever be able to do that.
Having finished his business, Leroy did not rush home. He didn't want to sleep, despite being tired. From evening until morning, he prayed incessantly, and only with the first rays of the sun did he leave the church.
-- Leroy! -- a familiar voice called out. -- I’ve been looking everywhere for you. You look terrible, which, however, is not surprising. I heard what happened; I sympathize.
-- Hello, Riordan, -- replied Leroy.
-- Listen, you are probably blaming yourself, but there is nothing shameful in surviving... Well, anyway, that's not why I was looking for you: just now, a peasant from the southern village ran up and said that he saw a large demon, apparently the same one. The captain is strongly against your participation and believes that you need to recover, but I decided that you should know. We set off in half an hour.
-- Thank you for letting me know. I have to do this.
It wasn't him, -- Leroy stood over the corpse of the demon, breathing heavily. – Not the one who killed my men.
The warrior took off his helmet, feeling rare drops of sweat running down his face. Of course, it couldn't be so simple. People around him recoiled for some reason.
-- Oh… -- Leroy caught Riordan's piercing gaze. – You really look strange.
-- What did you expect?
-- No, not that. You seem swollen. And these spots.
-- What nonsense.
-- It’s not nonsense. Sorry, friend. I don't even know how best to say this... In short, on that day, you still died along with everyone else.
Leroy collapsed to the ground – more from shock than fatigue. Taking off his glove, he felt his face. Dry lips, icy skin. There could be no mistake.
He sat for a long time, pondering his situation. What should he do now? The dead has no place among the living. But there, in his past life, he had a wife, children... Leroy suddenly remembered his life and realized that he never had a family, or rather, his family didn't have a husband and father. Obsessed with the idea of knightly duty and service to society, he spent almost his entire life away from home, searching for and destroying demons and mental entities. Preferring paternal duties to military exercises and constant training, he appeared at home only late in the evening and left at dawn. Of course, his children might be proud of such a father, and there was always enough money in the family, but nothing more. He was certainly not created for peaceful life. Well, his life will not change much after the transformation. He will continue to fulfill his duty, just now -- alone.
Leroy returned home at midnight. Taking some money, he wanted to leave a note and explain himself, but couldn't think of what to write and left the house forever.
For a long time, he chased that demon across the country, but it was elusive. Perhaps someone else had already killed him, or perhaps he had crossed the border. With a heavy heart, leaving behind these attempts, Leroy wandered through the country alone until he realized that he was needed by no one. Those like him, even alive, were diligently fulfilling their duty. But there is still enough evil in the world that needs to be eradicated, and he himself has long been drawn to other lands. He set off for the Senian Republic.
Origin: Zutar (+3 to willpower per point of stamina and strength; -1 to skepticism per point of willpower)
Characteristics:
Strength - 50
Agility - 30
Perception - 5
Stamina - 20
Intelligence - 5
Willpower - 25
Charisma - 0
Ugliness - 45
Skills:
Two-Handed Weapon
Proficiency: +2 damage per point of strength.
Accuracy: +0.4 accuracy per point of strength
Extra Attack
Apocalyptic
The character gains the ability to inflict damage on mental entities.
The character senses the presence of mental entities and demons nearby.
Holy Warrior
Mental damage and mental resistance are increased by 7 times
+0.5 to willpower per point of strength
✧ Resilience ✧Damage inflicted by negative mental entities and demons is reduced by 2 times.
ZombieInability to use magic
Physical damage is halved
Stealth attacks do not kill the character
Immunity to diseases, poisons, bleeding
Psychic deviation
+40 to ugliness
+35 to mental resistance per point of stamina
+25 to mental resistance per point of strength
✧ Regeneration ✧ At the end of the battle (in case of victory), the zombie restores mental resistance for the amount of damage dealt during the battle / 5
Inventory: two-handed sword, armor, helmet, money
A tall man in heavy armor stared directly into the eyes of a motionless demon. The huge monster seemed to silently mock the squad of warriors, who appeared so weak and fragile compared to him.
-- Courage, brave warriors! -- shouted the commander, that very warrior in armor. -- We must either win or die as heroes!
-- We will all perish here... -- whispered one of the soldiers, a young man of about seventeen.
-- Follow me! -- ignoring the words of the youth, with these words the leader rushed into a frontal attack on the demon. After more than two decades of service and hunting demons and mental entities, the warrior had almost forgotten how to feel fear – it was replaced by an awareness of the need to fulfill his duty and at the same time – an awareness of the inevitability of death. Life is too ephemeral to cling to it.
He managed to withstand the first blow from the demon and inflict two blows in return, but the opponent was too strong even for him. The next strike knocked him down like a splinter and threw him aside. And darkness fell.
Barely regaining consciousness, Leroy felt severe pain. The demon's claws pierced the armor, leaving deep wounds on his stomach, and the helmet looked more like a dented bucket, from under which blood flowed. With annoyance, he pushed it away and examined the site of the recent battle, and the pain subsided, leaving only a burning feeling of shame.
It was a nightmare. His entire squad died in this battle. Some, apparently, tried to escape, but could they really escape from such a creature? Some bodies were gnawed, others simply crushed into bloody pulp. Beside himself with rage, Leroy grabbed his sword and chased after the demon, forgetting about the pain.
Of course, this did not lead to success. It was too late. Exhausted, the warrior fell onto the grass and remembered what the church had taught him. Courage and resilience, patience and calmness.
-- Courage and resilience. Patience and calmness. Courage and resilience. Patience and calmness... -- he muttered mechanically, dragging the remains of the soldiers to the city for burial. He must report to the governor about the mission and explain himself. He must tell the families of the deceased and offer condolences. But most importantly – forgive himself and find justification for surviving when everyone else perished – he is unlikely to ever be able to do that.
Having finished his business, Leroy did not rush home. He didn't want to sleep, despite being tired. From evening until morning, he prayed incessantly, and only with the first rays of the sun did he leave the church.
-- Leroy! -- a familiar voice called out. -- I’ve been looking everywhere for you. You look terrible, which, however, is not surprising. I heard what happened; I sympathize.
-- Hello, Riordan, -- replied Leroy.
-- Listen, you are probably blaming yourself, but there is nothing shameful in surviving... Well, anyway, that's not why I was looking for you: just now, a peasant from the southern village ran up and said that he saw a large demon, apparently the same one. The captain is strongly against your participation and believes that you need to recover, but I decided that you should know. We set off in half an hour.
-- Thank you for letting me know. I have to do this.
It wasn't him, -- Leroy stood over the corpse of the demon, breathing heavily. – Not the one who killed my men.
The warrior took off his helmet, feeling rare drops of sweat running down his face. Of course, it couldn't be so simple. People around him recoiled for some reason.
-- Oh… -- Leroy caught Riordan's piercing gaze. – You really look strange.
-- What did you expect?
-- No, not that. You seem swollen. And these spots.
-- What nonsense.
-- It’s not nonsense. Sorry, friend. I don't even know how best to say this... In short, on that day, you still died along with everyone else.
Leroy collapsed to the ground – more from shock than fatigue. Taking off his glove, he felt his face. Dry lips, icy skin. There could be no mistake.
He sat for a long time, pondering his situation. What should he do now? The dead has no place among the living. But there, in his past life, he had a wife, children... Leroy suddenly remembered his life and realized that he never had a family, or rather, his family didn't have a husband and father. Obsessed with the idea of knightly duty and service to society, he spent almost his entire life away from home, searching for and destroying demons and mental entities. Preferring paternal duties to military exercises and constant training, he appeared at home only late in the evening and left at dawn. Of course, his children might be proud of such a father, and there was always enough money in the family, but nothing more. He was certainly not created for peaceful life. Well, his life will not change much after the transformation. He will continue to fulfill his duty, just now -- alone.
Leroy returned home at midnight. Taking some money, he wanted to leave a note and explain himself, but couldn't think of what to write and left the house forever.
For a long time, he chased that demon across the country, but it was elusive. Perhaps someone else had already killed him, or perhaps he had crossed the border. With a heavy heart, leaving behind these attempts, Leroy wandered through the country alone until he realized that he was needed by no one. Those like him, even alive, were diligently fulfilling their duty. But there is still enough evil in the world that needs to be eradicated, and he himself has long been drawn to other lands. He set off for the Senian Republic.
Origin: Zutar (+3 to willpower per point of stamina and strength; -1 to skepticism per point of willpower)
Characteristics:
Strength - 50
Agility - 30
Perception - 5
Stamina - 20
Intelligence - 5
Willpower - 25
Charisma - 0
Ugliness - 45
Skills:
Two-Handed Weapon
Proficiency: +2 damage per point of strength.
Accuracy: +0.4 accuracy per point of strength
Extra Attack
Apocalyptic
The character gains the ability to inflict damage on mental entities.
The character senses the presence of mental entities and demons nearby.
Holy Warrior
Mental damage and mental resistance are increased by 7 times
+0.5 to willpower per point of strength
✧ Resilience ✧Damage inflicted by negative mental entities and demons is reduced by 2 times.
ZombieInability to use magic
Physical damage is halved
Stealth attacks do not kill the character
Immunity to diseases, poisons, bleeding
Psychic deviation
+40 to ugliness
+35 to mental resistance per point of stamina
+25 to mental resistance per point of strength
✧ Regeneration ✧ At the end of the battle (in case of victory), the zombie restores mental resistance for the amount of damage dealt during the battle / 5
Inventory: two-handed sword, armor, helmet, money
E si sui vius, er mi grans benananza,
e si ieu muoir, er mi grans deliuriers
e si ieu muoir, er mi grans deliuriers
Небо
