05-18-2015, 08:45 AM
"I am Galel Baraz." He began, his third eye staring at the Syntex Employee like a laser sight, unnerving the middle-aged man. The Sorcerer tapped one of the papers with his large gauntleted finger, which was easily twice as large as that of the clerk. "I wish to register for this 'Dante's Abyss' tournament, as is evident by my presence." He withdrew the massive hand, staring at the Clerk. "Ask your questions, and fill out the forms as I command." Galel spoke, his voice booming through the vox-speaker on his helmet. The clerk nodded, grabbing a pen nervously and writing Galel's name at the top of one of the papers in front of him.
"What is your reason for applying, sir?" The clerk asked, moving on to the first question on the list.
If he must ask a question like that, then he must be a prisoner in this warp-realm as I am. Galel reasoned, then scowled beneath his helmet. "I have nothing better to do." Galel answered. It wasn't a lie, but neither was it the truth. As far as Galel could tell, Dante's Abyss was the whole reason that he was here. If it was not, then Galel probably had more important things to accomplish, but Dante's Abyss could be a good way to gauge the strengths and weaknesses of any adversaries that managed to survive it. Plus, if Omni was speaking the truth about being reborn from death, then Galel had nothing to lose in fighting. Finally, the ever mysterious prize was one that Galel would not allow any but one of the Astartes to claim.
While Galel pondered, the Clerk hastily jotted down his answer, fearful of angering such an imposing figure. Once he had completed that, he moved on to the second question. "Do you have a problem with being recorded and interviewed?" the man said, his nerves calming somewhat.
"What is the purpose of that question?" Galel replied, narrowing his mortal eyes even as his third eye widened to take in more details. He did not wish for potential enemies to know his method of combat, nor what equipment and powers he could manifest. If it meant he could not compete, then he would just have to be smart and avoid using showing a pattern during combat.
"The whole thing is televised." The Clerk explained. "And the Interviews are available publicly to the contestants and viewers."
Galel mulled the idea over. So long as he did not reveal anything important, then he could work with this. "Very well. I consent to being recorded." He answered.
The Clerk nodded, and then pressed a button on a camera that was on a tripod beside him. "Introductory Interview of Contestant P-42, Galel Baraz." He said, moving back to his papers. "Please repeat for the camera your reason for applying to this contest."
Galel scowled beneath his armour, his third eye glaring at the camera lens. "I require no reason. It is the will of my lord that I am here." He said, clenching a ceramite-gauntleted fist. "I intend to bring glory to the name of Chaos." He seethed, choosing his answer carefully. One slip up was all it would take to reveal too much about his nature and plans, and he couldn't have that.
"What do you think qualifies you to participate in Dante's Abyss, Galel?" The clerk asked, his pen hovering above the paper, ready to write down everything that Galel said.
"You require combatants. There is no greater combatant than one of the Adeptus Astartes." He answered, somewhat offended.
The Clerk looked as if he was waiting for a longer answer. He waited a few moments, then tilted his head. "Aaaand... can you tell our viewers what that means?" He asked in a slightly insulting tone.
Galel clenched a fist, his Third eye glaring straight at the interviewer. Who are you who do not know the Astartes? Galel thought, angry at the prospect of not being recognized for what he was. Even in the Warp they know of my kind. None in the galaxy can say they have not heard of the Astartes, whether the Angels of Death, or the Scourge of a Billion Worlds. Galel stayed silent for several seconds, contemplating his answer and the implications of the Clerk's question. Finally, he spoke. "We are the sons of the Primarchs and grandchildren of the Corpse-Emperor of Mankind. Those who witness our passing are blessed, and those who face us are doomed. We are greater than a mortal in every way imaginable, and our weapons are the finest ever forged by human, xeno, or daemonic hands." Galel turned to face the Camera, his third eye staring into the lens with an almost unnatural stillness. "None who stand against an Astartes can be considered sane. It is not courage that might drive you to face us, but stupidity." He said, his words dripping with malice and spite.
The Clerk, obviously unimpressed by his speech, stared at Galel. "Well then, mister 'Astartes'... why don't you show us what you can do?"
Galel scowled, standing and drawing his Force Sword from its ornate azure scabard. Hefting it, he glared at the Clerk. "Find someone who would deign to attack me." He ordered, and the Clerk nodded, pressing a button. Moments later, a man dressed in heavy riot gear strode into the tent with a riot shield and stun baton. "Lay your weapon upon my flesh and I shall leave." He barked, opening his arms wide. The guard looked to the Clerk, confused. The Clerk nodded, motioning for the guard to attack.
Galel chuckled as the Guard rushed towards him, stun baton poised to stab Galel in his third eye. Four feet away, and still, Galel stood with arms wide. Three feet, and Galel smirked. Two feet, and he moved. Even as the baton came within a foot of his face, Galel's blade swung upward. Mere inches from his eye, and the Force Sword connected. Arcs of sorcerous energy leaped along the baton even as it was severed in two. The Guard stumbled back, clutching his now burned hand. He only had a moment to contemplate the pain before Galel's blade was thrust into his skull, and sorcerous energy coursed throughout his body, causing his head to explode. Galel grinned, withdrawing the blade and looking to the Clerk.
The Clerk swallowed, terrified of the man before him. He turned the Camera off, then finished his notes. "Y-you qualify, Mister Baraz. Please, go on through and enter the portal." He said, handing Galel the filled out form. "G-give this to the first Syntex Employee you see when you arrive."
Galel stood, taking the piece of paper gently in one hand. He nodded to the Clerk, and made his way out of the back of the tent. The glowing rift in the skin of the verse crackled with energy before him, reminding him of the warp he was so familiar with. "Am I truly no longer in the universe I knew? Is Omni no Daemon, but a god? Questions pounded against his mind, unnerving him. Galel glanced back to the tents, seeing Okor, Carn, and Tartaros finishing their interviews. They would be along soon, he knew. The Sorcerer turned back to the whirling vortex, his third eye flitting about and examining every minute detail even as it shifted and changed. "This, is art." He muttered as he stepped into the blinding light to the Dante Verse.
"What is your reason for applying, sir?" The clerk asked, moving on to the first question on the list.
If he must ask a question like that, then he must be a prisoner in this warp-realm as I am. Galel reasoned, then scowled beneath his helmet. "I have nothing better to do." Galel answered. It wasn't a lie, but neither was it the truth. As far as Galel could tell, Dante's Abyss was the whole reason that he was here. If it was not, then Galel probably had more important things to accomplish, but Dante's Abyss could be a good way to gauge the strengths and weaknesses of any adversaries that managed to survive it. Plus, if Omni was speaking the truth about being reborn from death, then Galel had nothing to lose in fighting. Finally, the ever mysterious prize was one that Galel would not allow any but one of the Astartes to claim.
While Galel pondered, the Clerk hastily jotted down his answer, fearful of angering such an imposing figure. Once he had completed that, he moved on to the second question. "Do you have a problem with being recorded and interviewed?" the man said, his nerves calming somewhat.
"What is the purpose of that question?" Galel replied, narrowing his mortal eyes even as his third eye widened to take in more details. He did not wish for potential enemies to know his method of combat, nor what equipment and powers he could manifest. If it meant he could not compete, then he would just have to be smart and avoid using showing a pattern during combat.
"The whole thing is televised." The Clerk explained. "And the Interviews are available publicly to the contestants and viewers."
Galel mulled the idea over. So long as he did not reveal anything important, then he could work with this. "Very well. I consent to being recorded." He answered.
The Clerk nodded, and then pressed a button on a camera that was on a tripod beside him. "Introductory Interview of Contestant P-42, Galel Baraz." He said, moving back to his papers. "Please repeat for the camera your reason for applying to this contest."
Galel scowled beneath his armour, his third eye glaring at the camera lens. "I require no reason. It is the will of my lord that I am here." He said, clenching a ceramite-gauntleted fist. "I intend to bring glory to the name of Chaos." He seethed, choosing his answer carefully. One slip up was all it would take to reveal too much about his nature and plans, and he couldn't have that.
"What do you think qualifies you to participate in Dante's Abyss, Galel?" The clerk asked, his pen hovering above the paper, ready to write down everything that Galel said.
"You require combatants. There is no greater combatant than one of the Adeptus Astartes." He answered, somewhat offended.
The Clerk looked as if he was waiting for a longer answer. He waited a few moments, then tilted his head. "Aaaand... can you tell our viewers what that means?" He asked in a slightly insulting tone.
Galel clenched a fist, his Third eye glaring straight at the interviewer. Who are you who do not know the Astartes? Galel thought, angry at the prospect of not being recognized for what he was. Even in the Warp they know of my kind. None in the galaxy can say they have not heard of the Astartes, whether the Angels of Death, or the Scourge of a Billion Worlds. Galel stayed silent for several seconds, contemplating his answer and the implications of the Clerk's question. Finally, he spoke. "We are the sons of the Primarchs and grandchildren of the Corpse-Emperor of Mankind. Those who witness our passing are blessed, and those who face us are doomed. We are greater than a mortal in every way imaginable, and our weapons are the finest ever forged by human, xeno, or daemonic hands." Galel turned to face the Camera, his third eye staring into the lens with an almost unnatural stillness. "None who stand against an Astartes can be considered sane. It is not courage that might drive you to face us, but stupidity." He said, his words dripping with malice and spite.
The Clerk, obviously unimpressed by his speech, stared at Galel. "Well then, mister 'Astartes'... why don't you show us what you can do?"
Galel scowled, standing and drawing his Force Sword from its ornate azure scabard. Hefting it, he glared at the Clerk. "Find someone who would deign to attack me." He ordered, and the Clerk nodded, pressing a button. Moments later, a man dressed in heavy riot gear strode into the tent with a riot shield and stun baton. "Lay your weapon upon my flesh and I shall leave." He barked, opening his arms wide. The guard looked to the Clerk, confused. The Clerk nodded, motioning for the guard to attack.
Galel chuckled as the Guard rushed towards him, stun baton poised to stab Galel in his third eye. Four feet away, and still, Galel stood with arms wide. Three feet, and Galel smirked. Two feet, and he moved. Even as the baton came within a foot of his face, Galel's blade swung upward. Mere inches from his eye, and the Force Sword connected. Arcs of sorcerous energy leaped along the baton even as it was severed in two. The Guard stumbled back, clutching his now burned hand. He only had a moment to contemplate the pain before Galel's blade was thrust into his skull, and sorcerous energy coursed throughout his body, causing his head to explode. Galel grinned, withdrawing the blade and looking to the Clerk.
The Clerk swallowed, terrified of the man before him. He turned the Camera off, then finished his notes. "Y-you qualify, Mister Baraz. Please, go on through and enter the portal." He said, handing Galel the filled out form. "G-give this to the first Syntex Employee you see when you arrive."
Galel stood, taking the piece of paper gently in one hand. He nodded to the Clerk, and made his way out of the back of the tent. The glowing rift in the skin of the verse crackled with energy before him, reminding him of the warp he was so familiar with. "Am I truly no longer in the universe I knew? Is Omni no Daemon, but a god? Questions pounded against his mind, unnerving him. Galel glanced back to the tents, seeing Okor, Carn, and Tartaros finishing their interviews. They would be along soon, he knew. The Sorcerer turned back to the whirling vortex, his third eye flitting about and examining every minute detail even as it shifted and changed. "This, is art." He muttered as he stepped into the blinding light to the Dante Verse.
Quote:Appearance – Galel is a large man, as is typical of Astartes. His head is shaved bald, including his facial hair. Standing roughly seven and a half feet tall in his Power Armour, he has a light brown complexion and a pair of dark brown eyes. His teeth are sharp and pointed, the result of a mutation given to him by his dark god, and he has a third eye squarely in the middle of his forehead. This third eye is a light blue orb with a lizard-like yellow pupil, and constantly flits about examining every detail it possibly can.
Galel's Power Armour is a scavenged amalgam of parts, only the helmet and pauldrons of which dates back to the days of the Great Crusade. His helmet is a battered MK V Heresy-Pattern Power Helmet, while his Pauldrons are MK III Iron-Pattern. The left Pauldron proudly displays the symbol of Tzeentch, while the right displays the symbol of the pre-heresy Thousand Sons. His armour is painted in the iridescent blue and gold of the post-heresy Thousand Sons, and tattered robe bottoms are worn over top of his greaves.
Personality – Calculating and Manipulative, Galel is quick to make acquaintances but incredibly slow to make friends. While he finds it easy to get to know someone and forge relationships and bonds; he rarely, if ever, tells the truth about himself and his history. He does not trust anyone, least of all those closest to him, and is vigilant to the point of paranoia. On the surface, he is almost always calm and collected, while in truth he is highly emotional. Quick to take offence and to forgive it, those who truly know him would describe him as volatile and unsteady.
Possible Reactions – Galel first and foremost looks out for himself and his closest allies: Okor and Tartaros. He will not hesitate to sacrifice any other acquaintances if it would better their chances of success. When meeting others, especially those that are completely unknown to him, he acts friendly at first, so as to gauge them and their disposition. If he believes that someone cannot be of better use to them alive, he will attempt to kill or cripple them. When faced with a downed but not killed opponent, Galel will finish them off, sometimes quickly and sometimes slowly.
Relationships – While Galel has no true Friendships, he considers Okor and Tartaros to be his closest allies. Carn is considered an unknown element, one to be watched and studied instead of relied upon.
‘Combat’ Style – When confronted, Galel delivers a swift and brutal alpha strike to his foe. If his foe survives, he fights on the defensive in order to gauge their capabilities. Once he has determined a weakness, Galel will strike again with lethal efficiency and ruthlessness, exploiting his foe's weakness as best he can. If confronted by an enemy he knows he cannot defeat in a fair fight, Galel will retreat and prepare an ambush for his foe, in order to maximize his chances of quickly dispatching his opponent.
Eligible Powers – Galel currently has no powers at all.
Moves – Last I heard, no moves were allowed, but one move could be upgraded to a level 0 Super-Move. I am nominating Warp-Energy Barrier as a level 0 defensive Super-Move.
Extra – Galel is a liar through and through. Even when speaking about mundane matters, he must resist the urge to lie. When he does tell the truth, he twists it into half-truths and perverts its meaning. Galel is also utterly devoted to Tzeentch, his dark god of change, fate, and black magic. He will never defy the will of his dark God, nor will he defy the will of the other three gods of chaos unless it would contradict the will of Tzeentch.
Quotes – "Nagnaresh Vi'ral! Change is near! Let all who resist its coming be cast down and reborn as mewling spawn!"
"Who are you who resists the will of fate?"
"I hate blanks."