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Seiran Kenssen the Exiled Prince

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Seiran Kenssen the Exiled Prince

Post by Seiran on Mon Jun 15, 2015 3:22 am

Name - Seiran Kenssen (Sair-Ran Ken-Sen)

Age - 20

Species - Somebody, Human

Primary Elements

1. Darkness

2. Lightning

3. Wind

4. Illusion

Personality: Stubborn, hotblooded, determined, and nihilistic. Seiran is something of an Antihero. Fond of fighting to the personal goal of growing his own strength. Seiran will mostly try to keep to himself, only out for personal goals rather than being selfless. Finding time to be apathetic and lazy to the world around him unless it benefits him. Like a wild hound who broke away from his leash long ago, conforming to authority is not one of his strong suits. His dedication to his core conviction and his act on instinct attitude have kept him on his feet in spite of all this. Those who can get passed his head strong personality find a true ally to rely on, even if his actions are quite sporadic and wild.

Appearance: One of Serian's more striking feature are his golden yellow determined eyes, a trait praised by others and inherited by his father. Hair a deep obsidian, of medium length, slightly unkempt at times with some facial scruff around his chin and under his lower lip. Face stern and strong yet held his young defined delicate features with a single small scar at the corner of his left eyebrow. Wearing dirty gold clasps on his lower earlobes. A tall build, standing at about 6'2", with a physique to match, slim yet muscularly toned. His skin holds various markings on his hand and fingers. His left arm is covered in wrapped bandages from his knuckles to his lower shoulder to cover the Lichtenberg scar (Lightning Scar). his common attire is very lax, a hoodie as the under jacket with a black high collar jacket with a small faded skull crest on the shoulder covering it, sleeves generally folded up to just below his elbows revealing the forearms. Wearing patched and rugged jeans with several patches, held up by several belts. Only one is needed the others are just for style purposes. Peaking beneath his jeans are black combat looking boots, with similar small skull crests on the side.



History: Proud and Free. Courageous, Noble and Righteous. These words were Sairen's lineage, what his family lived by and were known for. A far better time for his name than what it is known for today. Trechery, Dishonourable, Murderers and Exiles. Those words are what his family name are known for now. The drastic change in a noble line, once praised as stalwart defenders and surgeon healers. Now stripped, shamed and disgraced to nothing more than a flickering spark of its former roaring flame. One action claimed more than the lives of Sairen's family. One action set the last son of his family on a course of redemption and clearing his name.

A land far away, known as the Land of Dragons. Born of a loving mother, an expert in her field of medicine. And a loving father, Wise and strong noble fighter. The youngest of three siblings, two older sisters and an eldest brother. Seiran seemed to be born with a silver spoon, a life of luxury. For a while his life seemed what others could only think as, perfect. A strong sense of family surrounded him. When he was old enough, he started to train with his mother to learn the act of healing. Traditional medicine and surgical finesse were a quality his mother thought everyone should know. Saving a life was just as important as defending them. Though keeping him focused was always a tedious task. Seiran attempted to focused day in and out to his studies of the human anatomy, keeping his mind wise. Where his father would teach him to hold up a sword and defend what he would cherish most of all. Though his discipline was lacking and would never conform to the traditional styles of swordplay and dueling that his family was known for, he would always act sporadically, and on instincts, incorporating an unorthodox style of fighting. His father always scolded him upon it, but couldn't help but smile seeing the burning ambition in his unique way of fighting. Showing him that one day he would take up his father's sword, a uniquely crafted katana that shared their markings. His siblings were always there to defend him, teaching them how to live and how to grow strong. His sisters looked out for him, but his strong connection with his brother always kept him going, even in times of struggle and hope seemed lost, his brother was there with a hand to help him pick himself up and try again. The village that surrounded his family's keep were kept with the best of people, tending to their lives day by day. For a time, life seemed to be quiet and calm. But where there's a light, darkness has to follow.

As if plagued with a curse not within his control, Seiran was stricken with events that would change his family life forever. After thirteen winters passed since his birth, Seiran was able to go out with his eldest brother who served faithfully in the clan's army. Seiran would see the camps that trained many, and one day join his family to serve. For him, it was an honour, and would gladly use the values he has been taught.Their journey would take a year. However while staying at a nearby village, a messenger riding through the night stopped by asking for Sairen's brother. His brother was called away to the front, something about an invasion coming from the northern regions. Sairen would stay behind, looked after carefully by the villiage inn. With a flash of a smile, Sairen's brother shared one last hug before leaving. 'Won't be long, stay strong and be brave.' The last lingering words that he would hear from his brother. A few weeks passed, and still his brother did not return. Sairen's light started to fade, it was only the start of a lingering darkness he would hold onto as a catalyst to fuel his ambitions later in life. Finally, the messenger came back, but this time followed by a clan army official. Seiran smiled seeing the traditional armor, but his gleaming childish whim would slowly fade as his brother was no where to be found. The officer slowly descended his dark horse, his face stricken with sorrow. Seiran was young, but knew was this meant. As the officer knelt down, he slowly pulled out a imperial issued helmet. Seiran was silent as he held his brother's helm within his hands. Grief stricken at his loss, he didnt cry. 'Stay strong..' He repeated in his mind. Seiran looked up at the official and just wanted to be taken home. He needed some hope and his family. However, his brothers death would only be the first piece in a strange mystery that will loom over Seiran.

The journey on his way back was long, seemed even longer still as Seiran never spoke a word. Strange occurrences started to happen, rumors and whispers started to surface as Seiran passed through each town. People scorned him and turned away when he mentioned his name and where he was going. After the quiet months, Seiran could see his land in the distance. A slight smile overcame him as he would be home, and surrounded by the family he cared for the most. Something was different however, something seemed off about the village that surrounded his family keep. The land seemed dead, and barren, as if everything had been burned. There was nothing left but charred ash and broken down buildings. His family keep was left in ruin and scorched. As Serian rode through he couldn't find any sign of life. Only a few scavengers were left poking around the rubble of a village. Even then the scavenging villagers spat at his feet walking away from him. Seiran stood confused as he looked upon his home, worried he ran towards what he thought would be his bastion of hope. Entering the ruined building he found nothing but sorrow and ash. He ran, and kept running trying to find anything, anyone. But nothing. Finally upon reaching the courtyard garden, which was now just rotten weeds and a dying tree. He saw them, hanging by the burned tree were his family. Below their swinging lifeless form was the imperial edict on the tree. 'Traitors' was the main word that he pulled from the paper. Serian stayed silent, falling to his knees as he saw all hope around him gone. Stuck in the dirt nearby was his father's katana. Words carved into the carefully crafted wooden sheath, 'Traitor, Exile, Worthless..." Many others follow up and along the sheath. Seiran gripped onto the blade and held it tight, breaking down. This was the only time he cried since that day. curled up and fueled with a dark hatred for others, and confusion for what happened. Then as if his grief wasn't enough, dark shadows appeared that Seiran had never seen before. They came out of the corners of the courtyard, Seiran looking up was speechless and screamed out. These heartless creatures set out for one purpose it seemed and they lunged out for Seiran. In a small flicker of hope, a blinding white light struck the creatures, sending them back into the shadows. As if they were smitten with a white lightning. Seiran rubbed his eyes and looked around to see an old robed man. Seiran stood up shaking and afraid as the old man approached. The man extended his hand and nodded. 'Seiran? You've returned... so at least that rumor was false. Come, come. We should go before more come.' Seiran was hesitant at first, but having no family and no choice he agreed.

For many years Seiran trained with this master of swordplay and lightning. Serian refined his sporadic fighting style, flips and spin kicks into his sparring with his unique reverse grip of his blade. Learning the man's unique skill of combat lightning and learning about what little they knew of these new dark creatures. Serian learned of the rumors that spread of his family, and the mystery surrounding the ghost keep of his family. The old master kept Serian close by, and taught him many things, like a son. But he could see the rage that fueled him, always wanting to become stronger no matter the foe. It seemed to be Serian's only way of finding true peace and redemption for his family line, by becoming the strongest swordsman like no other. This worried the old man, and decided it was time for Serian to set out by himself. Serian nodded and knew it was time for him to find his own path, uncover the mystery of his year of absence from his home. And fight what those dark creatures are that Serian believes to be the root of his family's cursed ending. Serian now wanders to fight and become stronger to prove his family line, and to redeem them. Determined to find the source of these dark creatures and what became of his once proud home.


Last edited by AznSenseition on Mon Jun 15, 2015 5:07 pm; edited 1 time in total
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Seiran

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Re: Seiran Kenssen the Exiled Prince

Post by Faye on Mon Jun 15, 2015 3:38 am

Approved. Welcome to the site~

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Character Tier(V)
MP(700) | GP(5)
STR Tier 5 | END Tier 5 | MAG Tier 5 | SPE Tier 5 | AGI Tier 5 | SYNTH Tier 5
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