Post by Tristan Knightrhode on Nov 20, 2006 11:23:57 GMT -5
Name: Tristan Abel Knightrhode
Race: Human/Crusnik
Occupation: Element Mage, Hunter (Tristan hunted demons, monsters, and vampires for a living and still does [if your one of those he would hunt, make sure he knows your a student at the Academy lest he try and blow you to hell].)
Nationality: Dual citizenship in Japan and Lithuania.
Heritage: Japanese, Transilvanian, Russian, Lithuanian, Italian, Romanian.
Height: 6'3", 6'4" in crusnik form.
Weight: Varies from 220 to 240 depending on his physical condition. (He's a hunter and occasionally needs to go into survival mode, making his body loose weight. Usually closer to 240.)
Age: 35
Hair Color: Pitch Black, bone White in Crusnik form.
Eye Color: Very dark brown(looks black) in human form, a deep blood red in Crusnik form.
Orientation: Straight
Religion: Atheism
Appearance:
Human Form
Physical Appearance: Tristan is in a word...Huge. Toned, thick muscles that line his body yet still give way for his gaunt face with it's sharp features and somewhat thin goatee. Hair is a little longer than shoulder length and straggly. He had general wear and tear scars all up his arms and about his torso, nothing major aside from one long somewhat gruesome scar that goes diagonally across his chest from the upper left to the lower right, ending about where the ribs do.
Clothing: Large, angled shades that hide his eyes in bright light. Black overcoat with long, slightly tattered white fur collar lining. Black martial arts pants. A black, skin-tight short sleeve shirt with a black kevlar bullet proof vest that can't be distinguished easily under his coat. Black steel toe combat boot. Silvery black gauntlets that go half way up his forearm. The vest is also strapped with a dual harness for his twin handguns and six extra clips (three on each side), inside his coat. NOTE: all of Tristan's clothing are consisted of Dragonhide except for the T-shirt under his vest, and the vest itsself.
Explanation of the dragonhide coat (so theres no confusion): On a dragon its extremely hard to cut through by even the sharpest of blades, but the tanning process took out most of that quality. As the coat, multiply the durability of leather by two and add the quality that it's entirely fire proof (short of throwing it into lava). The whole fireproof thing doesnt really matter other than it wont be burnt to a crisp by fire magic, Tristan was already immune to fire. (same applies to all of tristan's other clothing.
Crusnik form
Physical Appearance: White haired (slightly longer than half way down his back), red eyed, sharp canine fangs, slightly less muscular, slightly taller, and mysteriously, his facial hair disappears. Stone black arc angel wings protrude from his back.
Clothing: Much the same as in human form, only his physical appearance changes while in Crusnik form.
Personality: Outwardly cold and calculating but can be pleasant enough once you get to know him. Always cold on the hunt and when weapons are drawn. Tristan really doesn't talk to people, he mostly keeps to himself, even if you start talking to him. As stated, he can be quite warm when you get to know him but if you just meet him on the street he'll have an uncaring and cold tone. Even when you do get to know him, it's just as most people are, casual and not overly friendly. One thing about Tristan is that if he gets pissed off...Good luck.
Style:
Physical style: Ninjutsu/Ninpo and traditional sword fighting.
Ninjutsu/Ninpo: Using pretty much equal amounts of the hands and feet, this is a fairly fast and balanced style. It utilizes many specified techniques, and basic self defense tweaked from Taijutsu.
Stances:
Katate ichi monji no kumae: A stance in which Tristan is leaning away from his opponent slightly with both his legs bent, the front, only slightly (so if struck the knee does not hyper extend) with the arm on the same side as the front leg fully extended and the opposite withdrawn, covering his heart (both hands unclenched fingers together). This stance can be left or right facing.
Kosei no kumae: Standing square with the opponent with the left leg slightly in front of the other one hand is up guarding the head, palm down, the other is guarding the lower abdomen and groin, also palm down.
Hira ichi monji no kumae: Standing square of the opponent with arms fully extended out to the side, slightly forward of the body, giving the illusion that the body is closest to your opponent when the hands really are (a submissive stance that makes it appear to be either a taunt, or a surrender.)
Doko no Kumae: Same exact stance as Katate Ichi Monji no Kumae, only the hand over the heart, is a fist over the jaw on the same side as the outstretched arm.
Traditional Sword-fighting: Just what it says: Tristan uses his long sword in this style and combines it with kicks for close range deterrence.
Stances:
Basic stance: Left foot infront of the right in a front leaning stance, left hand up by the hilt, right hand down by the pommel. Tip of the blade is at face level. Right hand is one fists distance from the lower stomach.
Kasumi no Kumae: Dabbling back into Ninjutsu, this sword stance has one standing sideways, holding the sword blade up with both hands up at face level. Hand positioning on the sword is much the same as the basic stance.
Magical style:
Elements: He has the ability to command all nine (ten if you count lightning as an element on its own.) of the elements, mostly fire as thats his most skilled and strongest element, earth being his weakest use wise. Fire he can control with little effort, but the others require some concentration, earth a great deal more so.
Alchemy: Mostly transmutation of his gauntlets into various tools or knives. (see gear for more detail) His skill with alchemy is getting on par with alchemy oriented mages in that he can perform complicated transmutations and understands alchemy inside and out for the most part. How often he uses it is another thing entirely.
Chakra (Chi/Ki/Qi): His physical style tapped into his core energies and can utilize the inner energies to fight and strengthen himself. Most of the Chakra techniques (spells) derive from the "Ninpo" part of his fighting style.
Strengths: Pretty fast and strong. Through martial arts, Tristan is very good with acrobatics and agility. Expert marksman with bow and arrow as well as all types of guns. His fire magic is his strongest magical ability. He is also completally immune to fire attacks. As a crusnik, because of the type of attack that blood lust lightning is, Tristan has a degree of immunity to lightning based attacks. They still hurt like hell, as well as score his flesh, but they won't kill him unless they're very high ranked.
Weaknesses: His weapons are clunky and somewhat limiting of his agility. Has a hard time fighting chained weapons, such as flails or nunchucks. Due to the fact that his fire is his strongest element, he has an elemental weakness to water magic, though he can combat it with his chakra and other elements.
Tristan also carries over a weakness to holy type spells from his vampiric heritage, but it only applies to his Crusnik form. Its not an excessive weakness like it would be to a normal vampire, but it makes holy damage a good deal more effective. Excessive ammounts of water also disable his ability to fly as a crusnik until he can dry off his wings. Note: If Tristan takes in the blood of a holy based life form, his crusnik form begins to change and he becomes immune to light based magic until the blood moves through his system. He must consume at least three beings (or one REALLY big one) before it happens with any significance however.
Friends:
Roy
Leon
Eric
Kegan
Tormaigh
Sebastian Arete. (NPC)
Raiden
Shadow
Tas
Enemies:
Kelsey
History: Tristan was born in Japan, but his family moved to Lithuania when he was eight weeks old. He had a normal life until the age of six when his mother died in a car accident. Two months after that happened, his father, Langston Knightrhode, moved back to Japan with the small boy. They moved to one of the smaller islands with several small towns, one small city, and one martial arts dojo. The Fukashima dojo was famous in the vicinity, but its fame never really perforated to much any where in the world.
Master Fukashima, a master of four separate arts, and sixth generation head of the dojo, saw talent in Tristan when he began to take simple Ninjutsu classes there. Though he was just shy of seven years old and a white belt, Tristan was taking on, and beating black-belts twice his age and size. Shiste Fukashima took Tristan under his personal tutelage, and taught him every thing he knew as per Ninjutsu.
The boy always favored a long sword over a katana or any other weapon, so Fukashima called in a favor to a modern black-smith he knew and had Tristan's Shireiutz forged. He showed it to Tristan one day and, wide-eyed, the young man of now nine and a half took the massive sword into his hands. After eying it for several minutes, Fukashima took it back and said: "This...will be your reward when you become a master of Ninjutsu." Slightly disappointed, Tristan nodded and watched his sensei put the blade on a stand on the far side of the main training room for use in the future.
With renewed fire, Tristan trained vigorously, eventually getting to the point where he was taking on three or four people, twice his size and age while being the same belt level that the sixteen year old was. That having been a third degree black belt.
One day, when Tristan was nineteen, he came across a fight that he couldn't win. It was outside the dojo, and someone from another island of Japan wanted revenge for Tristan beating him in a national tournament. The young man, not much older than Tristan himself, approached the now fourth dan with twenty men in toe. A massive fight broke out that seemed to be in favor of the black haired man until several of the opposers grabbed up weapons, knives from their pockets, pipes and chains from the ground.
They started to beat Tristan to a pulp, then two of them held him up by his arms to make way for their boss. "What now little man?" Was what the revenge bound man said, despite the fact that Tristan was three inches taller than he, a Chinese Wu Dao broad sword in hand. He swung the blade across Tristan's chest, leaving his biggest scar. The pair holding him let go and Tristan fell to the ground in an ever growing pool of blood.
Beginning to walk away, Tristan slowly rose, his eyes turning from their usual dark brown, almost black appearance, to a blood red. He let out an ear shattering roar that got the attention of the entire group. In fear, they shot around to see the transformed Tristan. Razor fanged, white haired, and stone black arc angel wings protruding from his back. He struck the air and a massive shock wave shot along the ground, splitting the pavement and blowing away seven of the men. His wings flapped, seemingly of their own accord, and Tristan took off like a shot, the cement caving under the force of the wing strokes.
Tristan drew back his left hand and it began to emit a dark red flame. There was a blood curdling scream as he shot forward his flaming hand before a massive fireball shot from it, incinerating all fourteen remaining men, the seven sent flying were spared. That scream was the last thing Tristan remembered before waking up in his dojo in a cold-sweat.
Tristan looked around to see his master with a concerned look on his face, sitting in seiza next to him. "What happened?" Came the young mans strained voice. "I'm not sure my student...You tell me." Fukashima said, then retold eye-witness accounts. Tristan sat wide-eyed at what he was hearing. When his master finished, Tristan's father walked in. He knew what had happened.
"I was afraid this would happen." Langston said, sitting down next to his son and Fukashima. Responding to Tristan's dumbfounded stare, he continued: "You see my son...My side of the family has had a history of Vampirism, but not only the thirst for blood, we were actual Vampires. One day, along the line, there was a mutation in the genes when one of my great-grandmothers married, and had a child with a wizard. The result was a Crusnik, a Vampire of Vampires: A being that feeds on the blood of Vampires." He explained, then stood at the last sentence. "The human side was predominant, and the crusnik side could be sustained by human sustenance, but in times of great stress or emotional turmoil, the person becomes a crusnik." Langston's face then contorted with effort, his eyes began to glow, a single black wing folded out from his back, and pearl white fangs protruded from his now reddened lips. A deeper, harsher voice that was not the man's came from that transformed mouth, "Over the centuries, we have learned to control it, and bring it forth on command, but even I haven't the skill or power to call forth both wings of the crusnik, or the blood scythe."
Both seated men stared at the transformed being that was once, and yet still was, Tristan's father. The wing folded back, the eyes became brown again, and the teeth protruded. He had returned to normal and seated himself again. "That's....incredible...unbileivable..." The old master could say no more than that, speechless by the utter insanity that was the crusnik form and Langston's story. "But...dad...I mean...GAH!!" Tristan stammered, then rubbed his head vigorously. "Ok...first off...what's a blood scythe?" He asked, trying to sort things out bit by bit.
Pulling out a small, old, tattered drawing of a blood red weapon, Langston spoke again "This is the blood scythe, its the ultimate weapon of the crusnik." He handed Tristan the drawing and continued, "It's the solid form of Crusnik and Vampiric blood and has magical properties beyond imagination. Now from what I heard of what you did, you called both wings of the crusnik, that alone shows you have incredible power, but you still didn't have the scythe." He said, taking back the drawing and putting it in his back pocket.
"You'll need to train even harder than before, only now you need to train in magic and controlling your crusnik side." Langston finished, staring his son dead in the eye. "But...but....ah..." He stammered, still not able to form solid words. Unable to take the confusion, Fukashima got up to make some tea and clear his mind. After several minutes of silence, Tristan asked: "Was mom a crusnik to?"
"No...She didn't even know about them, I never became a crusnik in front of her or told her about it...I'm sorta thinking I should have, maybe you'd have been better prepared to defend yourself with magic against those boys, and wouldn't have had to decimate them as you did." He responded standing.
Tristan was at this point twenty five, and had good command over his abilities. He was proficient in fire magic, and had dabbled in Chakra abilities, figuring that if magic was real, why not the concept of the inner energy and Chakra. He was an eighth dan in Ninjutsu, and coming upon his goal of a Ninjutsu master and his prize of the longsword that sat waiting his iron grip at the end of the dojo.
The man could now call upon his Crusnik abilities with relative ease, though it took a bit of concentration to call out both wings, and he could not as yet form the Blood scythe. "Hey dad." He called out in a rather deep voice as Langston Knightrhode walked into the dojo. The man had taken to taichi to lengthen his already unnaturally long life and improve his physical conditioning. Langston waved to his son and left the man to his training. "You let your guard down!" Fukashima said, lunging at Tristan with a diving kick.
Tristan, on almost instinct, lept into the air over his master and landed when the old man passed under him, "No I didn't, you should know me better by now." He chuckled, smiling slightly to his master. Fukashima laughed back and took his stance, and the two got back to their match.
Four years later, Tristan finally attained the rank of Tenth Dan, and was officially deemed a master of Ninjutsu. Bright-eyed and proud, he sat tall in seiza before a line of masters, and accepted his final belt. It was faceted to his waist, and he bowed to Fukashima who bowed back. He was now equal to his master after twenty-three years, and it was a momentous occasion for the black-haired, muscular man.
After the ceremony, he was in his dojo to find his master meditating in front of the kamidana. "Come my student...No...My equal. Claim your prize." He said with a massive smile, rising from his meditation. The two bowed to each other and old Shiste Fukashima walked purposefully to the end of the dojo room. He took up the sword and held it lightly in both hands. Fukashima walked slowly over to Tristan, and held out the blade in his palms.
Excited, Tristan took the large sword and moved it around through the air. It was perfectly balanced amazingly and he swung it about, making a low tone that whirled through the air. The part crusnik man went through a 'kata' with the long sword, feeling the incredibly light weapon slice through the air. "What is this made of...it's amazing." He asked his master, bright eyed and genuinely excited for the second time this day. "It's a high grade titanium alloy, forged with diamond in the hottest fires imaginable. It's utterly indestructible by all things but pure diamond, and even then it takes incredible force, beyond that capable of any living being, and even most machines." The old man explained with an excitement not unlike that of Tristan's. "...Wow." Was all he could say in response.
Fukashima made a small grunt, similar to an 'Ah' sound, and walked off into a back room. "I had a holster made for the blade, here." He said, returning with a simple leather strap. "Thank you," Tristan said, strapping the holder over his back, and tightening it.
He whirled about the blade and shot it back into its' sheath with incredible ease. Smiling he turned and bowed to his master, "Its' name is Shireiutz. Treat it well." He said in response, bowing back slightly. Fukashima then walked out of the room, leaving Tristan to revel in his new blade. He showed his father and went about his day, occasionally returning to the topic of the Shireiutz.
One year after Tristan became a master of Ninjutsu and received his sword, he had a burst of power while training up his crusnik abilities. There was electricity and an aura of power in the air in a separate house from the main one on Langston's property. This was where they trained and it was somewhat tattered from all the energy that passed through the place.
"Incredible," Tristan's father said in his crusnik voice, "I never dreamed such power was possible." He said, then returned to his human form. The old man had to go into his vampiric form to resist the energy his son was exuding. "I know, I feel amazing right now." Tristan said before reverting to his human form. "Phew, That really takes it out of ya." He said, wiping a bit of sweat from his forehead that had just beaded up.
Unfortunately that massive power attracted some uninvited guests: Demons. The incarnations of chaos and evil that rose from hell and sought out power. A massive black demon with blood-red velvety fur burst through the wall, landing on Langston and crushing him. "NO!!" Tristan screamed, transforming back into his crusnik form.
His huge wings flapped a single beat, creating a sonic boom as the transformed thirty year old shot forward, sword drawn, eyes filled with murderous hate. The demon roared and jumped at him, intent to kill and absorb more power. The crusnik roared back and swung his blade, a stream of white fire shot from the end and clove the demon in twaid. It screamed in pain and fell to ashes. Tristan stuck his sword in the wood floor and went back to his human form. "Dad..." He said, kneeling over the body.
From that day on, Tristan became a hunter. Not a normal, human hunter, shooting game in season, but a demon hunter. He claimed the lives and damned souls of Demons, Vampires, Werewolves, Monsters and anything els of the supernatural that caused destruction and mayhem throughout the world.
Over the next three years, he hunted, and developed his abilities, becoming an even stronger crusnik, fire mage, and martial artist. He also dabbled into Alchemy, having gotten his hands on titanium gauntlets that he could transmute into blades should he ever loose hold of his Shireiutz. He also became an expert marksman, finding that bullets favored numerous low level demons and were the only effective and time efficient way to end werewolves.
One day, Tristan was on the hunt of a lizard demon, summoned by some idiot who was testing boundaries that ought not to be crossed. He shot it dead with his .30-06 and went to scavenge the corpse. What he found was a large egg, slightly smaller than an ostrich egg. The thirty-three year old was about to smash it to bits, in light of the fact that it may or may not be a baby demon, when it hatched to reveal a dragon.
The little thing unfurled its wings and coughed up a stream of smoke. "What the hell?" Tristan said, crouching low to the tiny beast. He didn't know whether or not dragons existed up to this point, and here was proof. Tristan took it home, or where he lived any way, and decided to take care of it, seeing if it could be tamed. If it couldn't he would simply end it, but if it could, a dragon was a fierce ally.
And tame it he did, apparently it could transform its self into a tiny familiar that could sit itself on his shoulder, as well as be a massive beast, capable of flying with Tristan and two other people on its back. It was now a year old and Tristan was thirty-four when he heard about a school for magic and such. He asked some questions and got some answers. Two months later the man found his way, with his black dragon, to the castle in the sky: Babylos, home to Arcane Academy.
Race: Human/Crusnik
Occupation: Element Mage, Hunter (Tristan hunted demons, monsters, and vampires for a living and still does [if your one of those he would hunt, make sure he knows your a student at the Academy lest he try and blow you to hell].)
Nationality: Dual citizenship in Japan and Lithuania.
Heritage: Japanese, Transilvanian, Russian, Lithuanian, Italian, Romanian.
Height: 6'3", 6'4" in crusnik form.
Weight: Varies from 220 to 240 depending on his physical condition. (He's a hunter and occasionally needs to go into survival mode, making his body loose weight. Usually closer to 240.)
Age: 35
Hair Color: Pitch Black, bone White in Crusnik form.
Eye Color: Very dark brown(looks black) in human form, a deep blood red in Crusnik form.
Orientation: Straight
Religion: Atheism
Appearance:
Human FormPhysical Appearance: Tristan is in a word...Huge. Toned, thick muscles that line his body yet still give way for his gaunt face with it's sharp features and somewhat thin goatee. Hair is a little longer than shoulder length and straggly. He had general wear and tear scars all up his arms and about his torso, nothing major aside from one long somewhat gruesome scar that goes diagonally across his chest from the upper left to the lower right, ending about where the ribs do.
Clothing: Large, angled shades that hide his eyes in bright light. Black overcoat with long, slightly tattered white fur collar lining. Black martial arts pants. A black, skin-tight short sleeve shirt with a black kevlar bullet proof vest that can't be distinguished easily under his coat. Black steel toe combat boot. Silvery black gauntlets that go half way up his forearm. The vest is also strapped with a dual harness for his twin handguns and six extra clips (three on each side), inside his coat. NOTE: all of Tristan's clothing are consisted of Dragonhide except for the T-shirt under his vest, and the vest itsself.
Explanation of the dragonhide coat (so theres no confusion): On a dragon its extremely hard to cut through by even the sharpest of blades, but the tanning process took out most of that quality. As the coat, multiply the durability of leather by two and add the quality that it's entirely fire proof (short of throwing it into lava). The whole fireproof thing doesnt really matter other than it wont be burnt to a crisp by fire magic, Tristan was already immune to fire. (same applies to all of tristan's other clothing.
Crusnik form Physical Appearance: White haired (slightly longer than half way down his back), red eyed, sharp canine fangs, slightly less muscular, slightly taller, and mysteriously, his facial hair disappears. Stone black arc angel wings protrude from his back.
Clothing: Much the same as in human form, only his physical appearance changes while in Crusnik form.
Personality: Outwardly cold and calculating but can be pleasant enough once you get to know him. Always cold on the hunt and when weapons are drawn. Tristan really doesn't talk to people, he mostly keeps to himself, even if you start talking to him. As stated, he can be quite warm when you get to know him but if you just meet him on the street he'll have an uncaring and cold tone. Even when you do get to know him, it's just as most people are, casual and not overly friendly. One thing about Tristan is that if he gets pissed off...Good luck.
Style:
Physical style: Ninjutsu/Ninpo and traditional sword fighting.
Ninjutsu/Ninpo: Using pretty much equal amounts of the hands and feet, this is a fairly fast and balanced style. It utilizes many specified techniques, and basic self defense tweaked from Taijutsu.
Stances:
Katate ichi monji no kumae: A stance in which Tristan is leaning away from his opponent slightly with both his legs bent, the front, only slightly (so if struck the knee does not hyper extend) with the arm on the same side as the front leg fully extended and the opposite withdrawn, covering his heart (both hands unclenched fingers together). This stance can be left or right facing.
Kosei no kumae: Standing square with the opponent with the left leg slightly in front of the other one hand is up guarding the head, palm down, the other is guarding the lower abdomen and groin, also palm down.
Hira ichi monji no kumae: Standing square of the opponent with arms fully extended out to the side, slightly forward of the body, giving the illusion that the body is closest to your opponent when the hands really are (a submissive stance that makes it appear to be either a taunt, or a surrender.)
Doko no Kumae: Same exact stance as Katate Ichi Monji no Kumae, only the hand over the heart, is a fist over the jaw on the same side as the outstretched arm.
Traditional Sword-fighting: Just what it says: Tristan uses his long sword in this style and combines it with kicks for close range deterrence.
Stances:
Basic stance: Left foot infront of the right in a front leaning stance, left hand up by the hilt, right hand down by the pommel. Tip of the blade is at face level. Right hand is one fists distance from the lower stomach.
Kasumi no Kumae: Dabbling back into Ninjutsu, this sword stance has one standing sideways, holding the sword blade up with both hands up at face level. Hand positioning on the sword is much the same as the basic stance.
Magical style:
Elements: He has the ability to command all nine (ten if you count lightning as an element on its own.) of the elements, mostly fire as thats his most skilled and strongest element, earth being his weakest use wise. Fire he can control with little effort, but the others require some concentration, earth a great deal more so.
Alchemy: Mostly transmutation of his gauntlets into various tools or knives. (see gear for more detail) His skill with alchemy is getting on par with alchemy oriented mages in that he can perform complicated transmutations and understands alchemy inside and out for the most part. How often he uses it is another thing entirely.
Chakra (Chi/Ki/Qi): His physical style tapped into his core energies and can utilize the inner energies to fight and strengthen himself. Most of the Chakra techniques (spells) derive from the "Ninpo" part of his fighting style.
Strengths: Pretty fast and strong. Through martial arts, Tristan is very good with acrobatics and agility. Expert marksman with bow and arrow as well as all types of guns. His fire magic is his strongest magical ability. He is also completally immune to fire attacks. As a crusnik, because of the type of attack that blood lust lightning is, Tristan has a degree of immunity to lightning based attacks. They still hurt like hell, as well as score his flesh, but they won't kill him unless they're very high ranked.
Weaknesses: His weapons are clunky and somewhat limiting of his agility. Has a hard time fighting chained weapons, such as flails or nunchucks. Due to the fact that his fire is his strongest element, he has an elemental weakness to water magic, though he can combat it with his chakra and other elements.
Tristan also carries over a weakness to holy type spells from his vampiric heritage, but it only applies to his Crusnik form. Its not an excessive weakness like it would be to a normal vampire, but it makes holy damage a good deal more effective. Excessive ammounts of water also disable his ability to fly as a crusnik until he can dry off his wings. Note: If Tristan takes in the blood of a holy based life form, his crusnik form begins to change and he becomes immune to light based magic until the blood moves through his system. He must consume at least three beings (or one REALLY big one) before it happens with any significance however.
Friends:
Roy
Leon
Eric
Kegan
Tormaigh
Sebastian Arete. (NPC)
Raiden
Shadow
Tas
Enemies:
Kelsey
History: Tristan was born in Japan, but his family moved to Lithuania when he was eight weeks old. He had a normal life until the age of six when his mother died in a car accident. Two months after that happened, his father, Langston Knightrhode, moved back to Japan with the small boy. They moved to one of the smaller islands with several small towns, one small city, and one martial arts dojo. The Fukashima dojo was famous in the vicinity, but its fame never really perforated to much any where in the world.
Master Fukashima, a master of four separate arts, and sixth generation head of the dojo, saw talent in Tristan when he began to take simple Ninjutsu classes there. Though he was just shy of seven years old and a white belt, Tristan was taking on, and beating black-belts twice his age and size. Shiste Fukashima took Tristan under his personal tutelage, and taught him every thing he knew as per Ninjutsu.
The boy always favored a long sword over a katana or any other weapon, so Fukashima called in a favor to a modern black-smith he knew and had Tristan's Shireiutz forged. He showed it to Tristan one day and, wide-eyed, the young man of now nine and a half took the massive sword into his hands. After eying it for several minutes, Fukashima took it back and said: "This...will be your reward when you become a master of Ninjutsu." Slightly disappointed, Tristan nodded and watched his sensei put the blade on a stand on the far side of the main training room for use in the future.
With renewed fire, Tristan trained vigorously, eventually getting to the point where he was taking on three or four people, twice his size and age while being the same belt level that the sixteen year old was. That having been a third degree black belt.
One day, when Tristan was nineteen, he came across a fight that he couldn't win. It was outside the dojo, and someone from another island of Japan wanted revenge for Tristan beating him in a national tournament. The young man, not much older than Tristan himself, approached the now fourth dan with twenty men in toe. A massive fight broke out that seemed to be in favor of the black haired man until several of the opposers grabbed up weapons, knives from their pockets, pipes and chains from the ground.
They started to beat Tristan to a pulp, then two of them held him up by his arms to make way for their boss. "What now little man?" Was what the revenge bound man said, despite the fact that Tristan was three inches taller than he, a Chinese Wu Dao broad sword in hand. He swung the blade across Tristan's chest, leaving his biggest scar. The pair holding him let go and Tristan fell to the ground in an ever growing pool of blood.
Beginning to walk away, Tristan slowly rose, his eyes turning from their usual dark brown, almost black appearance, to a blood red. He let out an ear shattering roar that got the attention of the entire group. In fear, they shot around to see the transformed Tristan. Razor fanged, white haired, and stone black arc angel wings protruding from his back. He struck the air and a massive shock wave shot along the ground, splitting the pavement and blowing away seven of the men. His wings flapped, seemingly of their own accord, and Tristan took off like a shot, the cement caving under the force of the wing strokes.
Tristan drew back his left hand and it began to emit a dark red flame. There was a blood curdling scream as he shot forward his flaming hand before a massive fireball shot from it, incinerating all fourteen remaining men, the seven sent flying were spared. That scream was the last thing Tristan remembered before waking up in his dojo in a cold-sweat.
Tristan looked around to see his master with a concerned look on his face, sitting in seiza next to him. "What happened?" Came the young mans strained voice. "I'm not sure my student...You tell me." Fukashima said, then retold eye-witness accounts. Tristan sat wide-eyed at what he was hearing. When his master finished, Tristan's father walked in. He knew what had happened.
"I was afraid this would happen." Langston said, sitting down next to his son and Fukashima. Responding to Tristan's dumbfounded stare, he continued: "You see my son...My side of the family has had a history of Vampirism, but not only the thirst for blood, we were actual Vampires. One day, along the line, there was a mutation in the genes when one of my great-grandmothers married, and had a child with a wizard. The result was a Crusnik, a Vampire of Vampires: A being that feeds on the blood of Vampires." He explained, then stood at the last sentence. "The human side was predominant, and the crusnik side could be sustained by human sustenance, but in times of great stress or emotional turmoil, the person becomes a crusnik." Langston's face then contorted with effort, his eyes began to glow, a single black wing folded out from his back, and pearl white fangs protruded from his now reddened lips. A deeper, harsher voice that was not the man's came from that transformed mouth, "Over the centuries, we have learned to control it, and bring it forth on command, but even I haven't the skill or power to call forth both wings of the crusnik, or the blood scythe."
Both seated men stared at the transformed being that was once, and yet still was, Tristan's father. The wing folded back, the eyes became brown again, and the teeth protruded. He had returned to normal and seated himself again. "That's....incredible...unbileivable..." The old master could say no more than that, speechless by the utter insanity that was the crusnik form and Langston's story. "But...dad...I mean...GAH!!" Tristan stammered, then rubbed his head vigorously. "Ok...first off...what's a blood scythe?" He asked, trying to sort things out bit by bit.
Pulling out a small, old, tattered drawing of a blood red weapon, Langston spoke again "This is the blood scythe, its the ultimate weapon of the crusnik." He handed Tristan the drawing and continued, "It's the solid form of Crusnik and Vampiric blood and has magical properties beyond imagination. Now from what I heard of what you did, you called both wings of the crusnik, that alone shows you have incredible power, but you still didn't have the scythe." He said, taking back the drawing and putting it in his back pocket.
"You'll need to train even harder than before, only now you need to train in magic and controlling your crusnik side." Langston finished, staring his son dead in the eye. "But...but....ah..." He stammered, still not able to form solid words. Unable to take the confusion, Fukashima got up to make some tea and clear his mind. After several minutes of silence, Tristan asked: "Was mom a crusnik to?"
"No...She didn't even know about them, I never became a crusnik in front of her or told her about it...I'm sorta thinking I should have, maybe you'd have been better prepared to defend yourself with magic against those boys, and wouldn't have had to decimate them as you did." He responded standing.
Tristan was at this point twenty five, and had good command over his abilities. He was proficient in fire magic, and had dabbled in Chakra abilities, figuring that if magic was real, why not the concept of the inner energy and Chakra. He was an eighth dan in Ninjutsu, and coming upon his goal of a Ninjutsu master and his prize of the longsword that sat waiting his iron grip at the end of the dojo.
The man could now call upon his Crusnik abilities with relative ease, though it took a bit of concentration to call out both wings, and he could not as yet form the Blood scythe. "Hey dad." He called out in a rather deep voice as Langston Knightrhode walked into the dojo. The man had taken to taichi to lengthen his already unnaturally long life and improve his physical conditioning. Langston waved to his son and left the man to his training. "You let your guard down!" Fukashima said, lunging at Tristan with a diving kick.
Tristan, on almost instinct, lept into the air over his master and landed when the old man passed under him, "No I didn't, you should know me better by now." He chuckled, smiling slightly to his master. Fukashima laughed back and took his stance, and the two got back to their match.
Four years later, Tristan finally attained the rank of Tenth Dan, and was officially deemed a master of Ninjutsu. Bright-eyed and proud, he sat tall in seiza before a line of masters, and accepted his final belt. It was faceted to his waist, and he bowed to Fukashima who bowed back. He was now equal to his master after twenty-three years, and it was a momentous occasion for the black-haired, muscular man.
After the ceremony, he was in his dojo to find his master meditating in front of the kamidana. "Come my student...No...My equal. Claim your prize." He said with a massive smile, rising from his meditation. The two bowed to each other and old Shiste Fukashima walked purposefully to the end of the dojo room. He took up the sword and held it lightly in both hands. Fukashima walked slowly over to Tristan, and held out the blade in his palms.
Excited, Tristan took the large sword and moved it around through the air. It was perfectly balanced amazingly and he swung it about, making a low tone that whirled through the air. The part crusnik man went through a 'kata' with the long sword, feeling the incredibly light weapon slice through the air. "What is this made of...it's amazing." He asked his master, bright eyed and genuinely excited for the second time this day. "It's a high grade titanium alloy, forged with diamond in the hottest fires imaginable. It's utterly indestructible by all things but pure diamond, and even then it takes incredible force, beyond that capable of any living being, and even most machines." The old man explained with an excitement not unlike that of Tristan's. "...Wow." Was all he could say in response.
Fukashima made a small grunt, similar to an 'Ah' sound, and walked off into a back room. "I had a holster made for the blade, here." He said, returning with a simple leather strap. "Thank you," Tristan said, strapping the holder over his back, and tightening it.
He whirled about the blade and shot it back into its' sheath with incredible ease. Smiling he turned and bowed to his master, "Its' name is Shireiutz. Treat it well." He said in response, bowing back slightly. Fukashima then walked out of the room, leaving Tristan to revel in his new blade. He showed his father and went about his day, occasionally returning to the topic of the Shireiutz.
One year after Tristan became a master of Ninjutsu and received his sword, he had a burst of power while training up his crusnik abilities. There was electricity and an aura of power in the air in a separate house from the main one on Langston's property. This was where they trained and it was somewhat tattered from all the energy that passed through the place.
"Incredible," Tristan's father said in his crusnik voice, "I never dreamed such power was possible." He said, then returned to his human form. The old man had to go into his vampiric form to resist the energy his son was exuding. "I know, I feel amazing right now." Tristan said before reverting to his human form. "Phew, That really takes it out of ya." He said, wiping a bit of sweat from his forehead that had just beaded up.
Unfortunately that massive power attracted some uninvited guests: Demons. The incarnations of chaos and evil that rose from hell and sought out power. A massive black demon with blood-red velvety fur burst through the wall, landing on Langston and crushing him. "NO!!" Tristan screamed, transforming back into his crusnik form.
His huge wings flapped a single beat, creating a sonic boom as the transformed thirty year old shot forward, sword drawn, eyes filled with murderous hate. The demon roared and jumped at him, intent to kill and absorb more power. The crusnik roared back and swung his blade, a stream of white fire shot from the end and clove the demon in twaid. It screamed in pain and fell to ashes. Tristan stuck his sword in the wood floor and went back to his human form. "Dad..." He said, kneeling over the body.
From that day on, Tristan became a hunter. Not a normal, human hunter, shooting game in season, but a demon hunter. He claimed the lives and damned souls of Demons, Vampires, Werewolves, Monsters and anything els of the supernatural that caused destruction and mayhem throughout the world.
Over the next three years, he hunted, and developed his abilities, becoming an even stronger crusnik, fire mage, and martial artist. He also dabbled into Alchemy, having gotten his hands on titanium gauntlets that he could transmute into blades should he ever loose hold of his Shireiutz. He also became an expert marksman, finding that bullets favored numerous low level demons and were the only effective and time efficient way to end werewolves.
One day, Tristan was on the hunt of a lizard demon, summoned by some idiot who was testing boundaries that ought not to be crossed. He shot it dead with his .30-06 and went to scavenge the corpse. What he found was a large egg, slightly smaller than an ostrich egg. The thirty-three year old was about to smash it to bits, in light of the fact that it may or may not be a baby demon, when it hatched to reveal a dragon.
The little thing unfurled its wings and coughed up a stream of smoke. "What the hell?" Tristan said, crouching low to the tiny beast. He didn't know whether or not dragons existed up to this point, and here was proof. Tristan took it home, or where he lived any way, and decided to take care of it, seeing if it could be tamed. If it couldn't he would simply end it, but if it could, a dragon was a fierce ally.
And tame it he did, apparently it could transform its self into a tiny familiar that could sit itself on his shoulder, as well as be a massive beast, capable of flying with Tristan and two other people on its back. It was now a year old and Tristan was thirty-four when he heard about a school for magic and such. He asked some questions and got some answers. Two months later the man found his way, with his black dragon, to the castle in the sky: Babylos, home to Arcane Academy.
