Post by Steinerman on Jan 31, 2011 22:20:09 GMT -5
Name: Bob Rasven
Alias:
Small Bob (But never to his face).
The Mage Hunter
That Homicidal monst... *choking sounds*.
Age: 38
Gender: Male
Nationality: Valtheran
Appearance: Simply put, Bob is a magical creature that most closely resembles a badger.
Laughable as that may seem, his appearance is anything but magical. His body, while roughly similar in appearance to an average badger, has a few marked differences. Firstly, he stands closer to three-and-a-half feet in height (Weight at last check was a muscular 54 pounds). Secondly, he stands on his hind feet, rather than on all fours (though he is fully capable of moving on all four limbs for faster movement when needed).
His fur is fairly short, and pitch-black in color, the customary white markings of other badgers are notably absent from Bob’s pelt. His head, (while it still retains much of the triangular slant and shape that is noted with most badgers) has a definitive expressiveness to it, his eyes are intelligent in appearance, his iris’ a gentle orange in color. His ears are small and flattened against his skull, as such they are highly unobtrusive. His small nose is a dark black and most closely resembles that of a dog or other similar animal in texture and appearance. Additionally, his mouth and vocal cords are fully capable of speech. His teeth have been magically altered to be stronger and sharper than regular teeth, and much resemble the naturally sharper teeth of a Komola.
His forward paws (each with a full furry four fingers and thumb) have been magically altered as well to allow for grasping almost exactly like a human hand. The length of his limbs was altered slightly to allow for more mobility and reach ( they are a little over a foot in length), giving him a surprisingly far-reaching grasp. Similar alterations were performed upon his rear legs, sans the hand-like abilities of the paws, which were reserved only for his front paws (allowing his more human-like appearance to remain intact). When not in combat, he generally moves in an exaggerated waddle, as the length of his legs is usually extremely awkward.
His paws have been slightly upgraded in another sense as well, regular badger claws were removed and replaced with retractable titanium counterparts, three to each paw. They are roughly one and one half inches in length.
His over-all appearance is something closely resembling a badger, yes. But a muscular, dangerous badger with dozens of barely-seen scars covering his body. If the term could be applied to a badger, he would be generally referred to as a battle-scarred veteran.
(Physical Attribute note: Bob's internal temperature is a few degrees higher than other creatures due to his magical nature. He is noticeably hot to the touch.)
Attire: Bob’s attire is simple, and surprisingly human in looks. Like a regular human, he wears pants. These are a pair of military issue (and severely cut-down to accommodate for his small size) utility pants covered in pockets, they are a Valtheran military grey in color.
Forgoing a shirt, Bob instead opts for a tactical vest which he can easily slip in and out of, based on the situation. It is a match in color to his pants and equals the pants in number and variety of pockets. A simple pair of plastic snap-hooks keeps it closed in front when he requires it, though he generally leaves the vest hanging open, displaying his impressive array of battle-scars.
A light blue military cap sits atop his triangular head, set at a jaunty angle.
Also, hidden from view by the vest are a pair of black shoulder-holsters, around which his fur has been allowed to grow a little longer to disguise their existence. The shoulder holster for his right shoulder is fashioned to fit a .45 revolver, the opposite is smaller, meant to house a combat knife.
Personality: Bob isn’t quite insane, or if he is, it’s not your normal sort of insanity. His is a snarky, sarcastic personality. Extremely bitter at being a creature mostly resembling an over-grown badger, (he’d much rather be human, he fully admits that). And also bitter with the knowledge of how he came to be ( knowledge he is reticent to share). But while he’s bitter about it, it’s “His” bitterness. Touch on it in conversation and he’s likely to try and hurt you, or laugh in your face.
He has many motivations for what he does, but it basically boils down to he likes his job, a lot. He doesn’t care much for the country he was born in and serves most of the time. And he rarely shows respect for any authority whatsoever. Rarely, of course, has exceptions. He shows just enough respect and does just enough for the Valtheran government that they allow him to continue on his meandering path of destruction.
He sees this respect as merely a means to an end. That end being the destruction of creatures he doesn’t like. Considering he views most of the world as something he doesn’t like...well, you get the idea.
But again, while he doesn’t like Valtheran all that much, it’s “his” blasted country. He vehemently swears that if anyone is going to destroy it, it’ll be him. And Stamarin can bloody-well get in line behind him.
Thus his personality goes, he doesn’t like much, but he’ll violently defend it to the death out of sheer contrary-ness. He fully recognizes that he’s most definitely not a regular, run-of-the-mill badger (and is particularly gleeful about his projected life-span, as he seemingly doesn’t age very fast at all). But at the same time he also recognizes that to the rest of the world, he is either an insane magical construct or a really big badger, and generally has a grudging loyalty to his species, if only because no one else will take him. He holds a special hatred in his heart for the somewhat more sentient Valtheran Kangaroos, who seem to enjoy killing badgers.
Bob is a solitary creature for the most part. He puts most others ill at ease with his alien and homicidal personality. The few other magically-enhanced creatures he’s met, he gets along with. And he swears up and down that playing cards with psychopaths and mass-murders is one of his favorite pass-times. When those are lacking, he’ll take company in the form of mercenaries, whom he finds amusing and endearing. Or special-forces teams, whose general cold behavior and violent nature beckons to him like a lighthouse in a storm.
Well, no, that’s not quite right. More like a lighthouse leading him out into a furious storm.
Yes, that’s more like it.
He has many idiosyncrasies which set him apart from his fellows. He smokes cigars, drinks heavily (his magical nature makes it extremely hard for him to get drunk. To make up for that, he drinks more.) He loves to play poker, as even though he has an extremely expressive face, his control of it is exemplary and he enjoys robbing people blind in the card game. He’s an avid reader, mostly delving into trashy romance novels, which he buys whenever he can.
Also, for reasons unknown, Bob seems to become very protective of children. Some speculate that this is because they are generally close to his height and thus easier to converse with. The standing argument against that is he honestly loves to fight dwarves and other similarly small creatures (though it’s hard to find a species he doesn’t love to fight). Whatever his reasons, he stays true to that one fact. If a child is in danger, he’ll move heaven and earth to keep that child safe.
All in all, if you were to sum him up by saying that he was an energetic, smart-mouthed, sarcastic killer with a penchant for explosives and chomping gleefully on cigars while also completely ignoring authority of any kind... You wouldn’t be far off the mark.
Possessions:
“Tanya” .45 caliber revolver: Bob’s prized possession is “Tanya”, a .45 cal revolver with the ability to hold eight highly explosive rounds. It’s a pitch-black in color (making it easier to hide in his fur) and has a laser-sight attachment for lengthier shots.
“Vera” Standard Issue Valtheran Combat Knife: Vera is a relatively simple and deadly piece of steel with a solid metal and rubber handle, it has a length of eleven inches and a double-edged laser-sharpened blade for maximum cutting effectiveness.
Special Abilities:
Bob isn’t a badger, that much is certain. The closest scientists have come to identifying him as is some sort of magically powered hybrid. Originally created to be a creature that could hunt and kill Taron Magi. Thus, his abilities are quite powerful.
He is a master of close-combat, specializing in both the Krav Maga and Ninjutsu fighting styles. He is stealthy, adept at moving silently and infiltrating enemy fortifications.
Extremely handy with a knife, a deadly close-range shot with a gun, and coming with built-in weaponry in the form of his magically enhanced claws and teeth, he is death on two or four limbs (take your pick, he doesn’t care) to nearby opponents. To supplement the fact that he only weighs 54 pounds, he has a strong magical ability.
Bob’s magic is not what most consider “Normal” magic. He can’t throw fireballs, he can’t create illusions, he can’t manifest his magic externally at all, in fact. What he can do, however, is augment his strength, speed stamina and reflexes. He has been recorded as lifting up to two hundred pounds in weight, and of sustaining a speed of twenty Miles Per Hour (MPH) for several hours without need to rest (of course this is on all four limbs, his bipedal movement is nowhere near that fast).
In combat, he’s not impossibly fast, but he is quick and nimble, able to dodge or redirect many attacks with ease. His pain threshold is also extremely high, his magic enables him to block out crippling pain much like famed Berserkers of old.
The most curious thing about Bob, however, is his anti-magical abilities. As he was meant to combat mages who would reasonably try to seal away his magic (thus slowing his speed and greatly decreasing his strength), his own body acts as something of a magical shield. Able to absorb without harm several such binding spells with no ill effect to his own magic. A secondary reason as to why he is so magically resistant to binding spells of any kind is simple. All mages agree that he and his species shouldn't exist, the only reason they can even move properly is due to the magic inside them. Without their magic, it is surmised that they would die very quickly, as they rely on it for almost everything they do. (it follows that their creator realized this, and made them exceptionally resistant to magic as a result)
Besides these magical powers and fighting skills, he also possesses keen eyesight, acute hearing and a strong sense of smell as well. (Though even he admits he’s a fairly useless tracker much of the time.)
History: Bob Rasven and his siblings were the answer to a question. That question was asked by an Elven Archmage to a group of Valtheran generals roughly around 60 S.R.. It was before Stamaria even began it’s expansion, before Valtheran had consolidated power, before it had even entered into a military alliance with Aube. This Elven Archmage (a man by the name of Tydorian), was sure that someday, the Stamarians would expand, and if that happened, they would eventually come for Valtheran.
The generals were skeptical, they had other problems to worry about, Stamaria was far away and didn’t seem much of a threat. But they were willing to listen. Tydorian laid out his plan quite simply. He wished to give Valtheran an edge in a conflict against Stamaria. One of Stamaria’s most powerful assets, he explained, was the Taron Magi.
Tydorian wanted funding from the Valtheran military to create a project with the specific task of neutralizing the Taron Magi in a war, should it happen. The generals thought he was a little bit on the crazy side, but they were willing to fund him in his goal, thinking at the worst he’d come up with some new anti-mage weaponry.
But Tydorian had a different plan, he wasn’t interesting in building a gun, no. He wanted a living weapon, something smaller than a human, dangerous in close-combat (in the hopes of overwhelming powerful mages who knew very little about close-combat) and utterly vicious. He intended to create a creature, a magically powered creature, to hunt down and kill Taron Magi.
Tydorian worked for several years before realizing that no creature on the planet quite suited his needs. Instead, he decided he would have to make one.
And so, Bob Rasven and his siblings were born.
Using DNA from Komala, and adding in some specific DNA strands that he personally altered via magic, Tydorian created ten “Test Cases”. He proudly showed the small creatures off to the Valtheran military, promising a new age of magical warrior.
They were less than overwhelmed, to tell the truth. For before the Valtheran generals stood ten creatures that resembled over-grown badgers more than anything else. The creatures each stood at the uniform height of three-and-a-half feet tall and were a uniform pitch-black in fur color. Their eyes were all the same shade of orange, and then all gave off the vague sense of “Wrongness”. Something was definitely off about the creatures. Too intelligent to be animals, but with a feral gleam in their eyes that suggested they were only barely holding themselves back from killing the generals staring down at them.
It was due to this sense of “wrongness”, as one general put it, that the program was given funding for the next stage. The generals felt that if the creatures put them ill at ease, they would that and more to their enemies.
In most Valtheran scientific and magical circles Tydorian was laughed at and ridiculed, “Look,” they would say, “There goes the man who made big badgers”. And more laughter would ensue. But Tydorian was not discouraged. He viciously defended his creations and their comical nature, declaring it would make them seem less dangerous than they really were. He didn’t want Titans of destruction, he argued. He wanted creatures that could infiltrate enemy bases through openings that were too small for humans to even think of guarding, he wanted creatures who would use their short stature to their advantage in a fight, dodging and ducking between the legs of opponents.
However, not everything was quite as he wanted with the creatures, he had to make adjustments. Their regular claws he found unsuitable, and so in a bloody medical operation (which was truly only possible because of his powerful magic) he had them replaced with titanium versions. The claws were made retractable, the limbs were lengthened and the creatures taught to stand on their hind legs, mimicking bipeds rather than quadrupeds. Their vocal cords and mouths were modified to allow for human speech, which they picked up surprisingly fast.
And then, around the time the test subjects were five years old, (already their minds were fully developed), the true training began. The creatures were taught every sort of close-combat technique imaginable, taught to hunt and kill mages (And anything else that got in their way). And then Tydorian unveiled his true genius with the creatures.
During their birth (others might call it their creation), Tydorian said he had allowed his powerful magic to seep into the creatures, giving them their own magical capabilities. But he was careful in his application of the idea. His vision was of a magical killing machine, cold and heartless, small enough to sneak through places a human wouldn’t even think to guard, and strong enough to kill any human guards they came across.
Though he was ridiculed for years, eventually he brought one of the test cases to a military training ground for a combat trial. He wished to show the Valtheran generals what their money had paid for.
Before them stood the same minuscule creature they’d been shown several years before, covered in pitch-black fur, with a triangular head and ears folded very close to its skull. They again were underwhelmed by the creature. They laughed at it and said even if it was magical (which they very much doubted, not thinking it possible for a mage to pass enough of his power on to a creation to make it truly powerful in any sense of the word), but that even if it were magical in nature and ability, the small creature would get punted around the training ground like a football.
Tydorian just grinned and bid them watch. Five Valtheran troopers were called in, including a mage. They were told to subdue the creature by any means necessary. They were also very casually informed that it was magical in nature.
Immediately the troopers went to work, the mage cast a binding spell to disable the creature’s magic. After he nodded to the troopers that it was done, the mage stood back and watched the fight begin. It didn’t last long. The creature moved like a blur, blocking blows from the soldiers, leaping over kicks and rolling on the ground in every way possible. The soldiers landed blows, it was true. But the creature seemed to rebound without even noticing it had been hurt.
The Generals were shocked when they realized why it was able to do all those things, Tydorian really had turned the diminutive creature into a combat mage which used magic to substitute for the mass it lacked in a fight. They marveled at how it seemed impervious to anti-magical attacks, seeming to simply shrug off binding spell after binding spell.
Within minutes, the creature had disabled and restrained all five of their men, and then softly padded over to stand in front of the generals and throw a crisp salute followed by an utterly inhuman and completely insane tooth-filled grin.
After that demonstration, Tydorian was given all the funding he could have asked for to create more of these vicious and apparently highly effective soldiers.
However, as time went on. It became quite clear that Tydorian was possibly the most unethical Archmage to ever grace Valtheran shores. He had a goal in mind, and did whatever he could to further that goal. And he was power-hungry. The creation of his vicious hybrid assassins required magic. It became obvious as time went on that he wasn’t decreasing in power, as he should have been each time he created one of the creatures and gave it magic. The question was raised as to how he was giving his creations magic when he himself wasn’t sacrificing any of his own.
The Valtherans became suspicious and investigated, putting out queries to others, including the Taron Magi finally when they could find no other information on the mysterious Elven mage. They were told quite plainly by the Taron that Tydorian was a madman, a complete and utter monster whom they’d expelled from their ranks (and attempted to kill) when they realized he had been performing experiments on other mages.
The Valtherans were enraged by this news, and embarrassed they’d been duped into funding an apparent plot of vengeance against the Taron. They quickly shut down the program and raided the government lab they’d given to Tydorian. Here they found the answer to his miraculous creatures with magical abilities. He had sacrificed other mages in order to transfer their power into his creations. Unfortunately, Tydorian had needed more than one mage for each creature he’d created. He had kidnaped several dozen Valtheran mages and murdered them to create fifteen of his magical assassins.
In truth, Tydorian had actually seemed to hinder Valtheran’s magical capabilities rather than aid them. Ending like many other stories of blind revenge, Tydorian was cut down while attempting to flee. His designs for the creatures he created were destroyed and the Valtheran Government was left with fifteen extremely dangerous and somewhat comical killing machines. Who, to their consternation, apparently aged slower than Elves and had no predicted end in their life-span. It seemed they were stuck with the blasted creatures, one of which was Bob Rasven.
To say he was the leader of the others would be a lie. He was the second-oldest, and the one with the most combat experience (it was he who defeated the troopers in the test-run) But despite his age and seniority, he left the talking to more eloquent members of his cadre. Their spokesperson calmly explained their wishes to the Valtheran government officials. They quite simply stated that to kill them now would be to waste the sacrifices made by the mages whom Tydorian had murdered. Rather, the diminutive warriors suggested, let them fight for Valtheran.
The Valtheran government was decidedly leery about that prospect. As they studied the creatures, they realized how fully alien they were compared to just about any other sentient creature on the planet. They weren’t heartless, no. But there was something deviously primal and savage about them, they’d been bred to be killers, and they thrived in their purpose. They showed very little loyalty to Valtheran, and it was assumed they offered their services simply to preserve their lives.
The fifteen furry warriors fully acknowledged that fact. They didn’t want to die, and they were willing to kill however many of Valtheran’s enemies it took to ensure their place on the continent.
The Valtheran military finally agreed, banking on the fact that the magical creatures were neither here nor there, they weren’t regular badgers by any definition of the word. They weren’t dwarves, they weren’t humans. The closest creatures even remotely resembling them were Komola. They were the only members of their species, and Valtheran made it very clear to them that it was the only country that would come even remotely close to accepting them. If the fifteen Tydorian Badgers (as they were then dubbed) would hunt and kill for the Valtheran government, against any enemy it chose, they would live.
The Badgers readily agreed.
And so time moved on and the Tydorian Badgers served Valtheran, information about them was kept from the general public for fear of the backlash at using such vile magical creations, they were hidden from most everyone. And when the Valtheran government had a particularly dangerous band of Orc bandits or human terrorists to deal with, they would call upon the Tydorian Badgers, who would enter the area, and kill everything in their path.
Bob Rasven was arguably the most dangerous of the cadre, he kept no ties barring a somewhat sibling-like relation with his fellow fourteen, and continued in his bloody and violent path. Relishing the day that he would be used in a full-scale war.
Current official deployment status of Valtheran Special Forces Cadre (Code-named “Tydorian”) has it assigned to Task Force Shadow Wolf as logistics support and communications aides.
Current Members (fifteen members in total) are all listed as special contractors working on extended contract for the Valtheran Government.
Current Members species designation is REDACTED
Miscellaneous:
If you mention Bob’s height in a negative fashion, he’s liable to maim you. If you mention his height in a positive fashion, he’s liable to shoot you. If you mention his height at all, he’s liable to hurt you. Don’t mention his height if you prefer your limbs remain attached and whole.
Alias:
Small Bob (But never to his face).
The Mage Hunter
That Homicidal monst... *choking sounds*.
Age: 38
Gender: Male
Nationality: Valtheran
Appearance: Simply put, Bob is a magical creature that most closely resembles a badger.
Laughable as that may seem, his appearance is anything but magical. His body, while roughly similar in appearance to an average badger, has a few marked differences. Firstly, he stands closer to three-and-a-half feet in height (Weight at last check was a muscular 54 pounds). Secondly, he stands on his hind feet, rather than on all fours (though he is fully capable of moving on all four limbs for faster movement when needed).
His fur is fairly short, and pitch-black in color, the customary white markings of other badgers are notably absent from Bob’s pelt. His head, (while it still retains much of the triangular slant and shape that is noted with most badgers) has a definitive expressiveness to it, his eyes are intelligent in appearance, his iris’ a gentle orange in color. His ears are small and flattened against his skull, as such they are highly unobtrusive. His small nose is a dark black and most closely resembles that of a dog or other similar animal in texture and appearance. Additionally, his mouth and vocal cords are fully capable of speech. His teeth have been magically altered to be stronger and sharper than regular teeth, and much resemble the naturally sharper teeth of a Komola.
His forward paws (each with a full furry four fingers and thumb) have been magically altered as well to allow for grasping almost exactly like a human hand. The length of his limbs was altered slightly to allow for more mobility and reach ( they are a little over a foot in length), giving him a surprisingly far-reaching grasp. Similar alterations were performed upon his rear legs, sans the hand-like abilities of the paws, which were reserved only for his front paws (allowing his more human-like appearance to remain intact). When not in combat, he generally moves in an exaggerated waddle, as the length of his legs is usually extremely awkward.
His paws have been slightly upgraded in another sense as well, regular badger claws were removed and replaced with retractable titanium counterparts, three to each paw. They are roughly one and one half inches in length.
His over-all appearance is something closely resembling a badger, yes. But a muscular, dangerous badger with dozens of barely-seen scars covering his body. If the term could be applied to a badger, he would be generally referred to as a battle-scarred veteran.
(Physical Attribute note: Bob's internal temperature is a few degrees higher than other creatures due to his magical nature. He is noticeably hot to the touch.)
Attire: Bob’s attire is simple, and surprisingly human in looks. Like a regular human, he wears pants. These are a pair of military issue (and severely cut-down to accommodate for his small size) utility pants covered in pockets, they are a Valtheran military grey in color.
Forgoing a shirt, Bob instead opts for a tactical vest which he can easily slip in and out of, based on the situation. It is a match in color to his pants and equals the pants in number and variety of pockets. A simple pair of plastic snap-hooks keeps it closed in front when he requires it, though he generally leaves the vest hanging open, displaying his impressive array of battle-scars.
A light blue military cap sits atop his triangular head, set at a jaunty angle.
Also, hidden from view by the vest are a pair of black shoulder-holsters, around which his fur has been allowed to grow a little longer to disguise their existence. The shoulder holster for his right shoulder is fashioned to fit a .45 revolver, the opposite is smaller, meant to house a combat knife.
Personality: Bob isn’t quite insane, or if he is, it’s not your normal sort of insanity. His is a snarky, sarcastic personality. Extremely bitter at being a creature mostly resembling an over-grown badger, (he’d much rather be human, he fully admits that). And also bitter with the knowledge of how he came to be ( knowledge he is reticent to share). But while he’s bitter about it, it’s “His” bitterness. Touch on it in conversation and he’s likely to try and hurt you, or laugh in your face.
He has many motivations for what he does, but it basically boils down to he likes his job, a lot. He doesn’t care much for the country he was born in and serves most of the time. And he rarely shows respect for any authority whatsoever. Rarely, of course, has exceptions. He shows just enough respect and does just enough for the Valtheran government that they allow him to continue on his meandering path of destruction.
He sees this respect as merely a means to an end. That end being the destruction of creatures he doesn’t like. Considering he views most of the world as something he doesn’t like...well, you get the idea.
But again, while he doesn’t like Valtheran all that much, it’s “his” blasted country. He vehemently swears that if anyone is going to destroy it, it’ll be him. And Stamarin can bloody-well get in line behind him.
Thus his personality goes, he doesn’t like much, but he’ll violently defend it to the death out of sheer contrary-ness. He fully recognizes that he’s most definitely not a regular, run-of-the-mill badger (and is particularly gleeful about his projected life-span, as he seemingly doesn’t age very fast at all). But at the same time he also recognizes that to the rest of the world, he is either an insane magical construct or a really big badger, and generally has a grudging loyalty to his species, if only because no one else will take him. He holds a special hatred in his heart for the somewhat more sentient Valtheran Kangaroos, who seem to enjoy killing badgers.
Bob is a solitary creature for the most part. He puts most others ill at ease with his alien and homicidal personality. The few other magically-enhanced creatures he’s met, he gets along with. And he swears up and down that playing cards with psychopaths and mass-murders is one of his favorite pass-times. When those are lacking, he’ll take company in the form of mercenaries, whom he finds amusing and endearing. Or special-forces teams, whose general cold behavior and violent nature beckons to him like a lighthouse in a storm.
Well, no, that’s not quite right. More like a lighthouse leading him out into a furious storm.
Yes, that’s more like it.
He has many idiosyncrasies which set him apart from his fellows. He smokes cigars, drinks heavily (his magical nature makes it extremely hard for him to get drunk. To make up for that, he drinks more.) He loves to play poker, as even though he has an extremely expressive face, his control of it is exemplary and he enjoys robbing people blind in the card game. He’s an avid reader, mostly delving into trashy romance novels, which he buys whenever he can.
Also, for reasons unknown, Bob seems to become very protective of children. Some speculate that this is because they are generally close to his height and thus easier to converse with. The standing argument against that is he honestly loves to fight dwarves and other similarly small creatures (though it’s hard to find a species he doesn’t love to fight). Whatever his reasons, he stays true to that one fact. If a child is in danger, he’ll move heaven and earth to keep that child safe.
All in all, if you were to sum him up by saying that he was an energetic, smart-mouthed, sarcastic killer with a penchant for explosives and chomping gleefully on cigars while also completely ignoring authority of any kind... You wouldn’t be far off the mark.
Possessions:
“Tanya” .45 caliber revolver: Bob’s prized possession is “Tanya”, a .45 cal revolver with the ability to hold eight highly explosive rounds. It’s a pitch-black in color (making it easier to hide in his fur) and has a laser-sight attachment for lengthier shots.
“Vera” Standard Issue Valtheran Combat Knife: Vera is a relatively simple and deadly piece of steel with a solid metal and rubber handle, it has a length of eleven inches and a double-edged laser-sharpened blade for maximum cutting effectiveness.
Special Abilities:
Bob isn’t a badger, that much is certain. The closest scientists have come to identifying him as is some sort of magically powered hybrid. Originally created to be a creature that could hunt and kill Taron Magi. Thus, his abilities are quite powerful.
He is a master of close-combat, specializing in both the Krav Maga and Ninjutsu fighting styles. He is stealthy, adept at moving silently and infiltrating enemy fortifications.
Extremely handy with a knife, a deadly close-range shot with a gun, and coming with built-in weaponry in the form of his magically enhanced claws and teeth, he is death on two or four limbs (take your pick, he doesn’t care) to nearby opponents. To supplement the fact that he only weighs 54 pounds, he has a strong magical ability.
Bob’s magic is not what most consider “Normal” magic. He can’t throw fireballs, he can’t create illusions, he can’t manifest his magic externally at all, in fact. What he can do, however, is augment his strength, speed stamina and reflexes. He has been recorded as lifting up to two hundred pounds in weight, and of sustaining a speed of twenty Miles Per Hour (MPH) for several hours without need to rest (of course this is on all four limbs, his bipedal movement is nowhere near that fast).
In combat, he’s not impossibly fast, but he is quick and nimble, able to dodge or redirect many attacks with ease. His pain threshold is also extremely high, his magic enables him to block out crippling pain much like famed Berserkers of old.
The most curious thing about Bob, however, is his anti-magical abilities. As he was meant to combat mages who would reasonably try to seal away his magic (thus slowing his speed and greatly decreasing his strength), his own body acts as something of a magical shield. Able to absorb without harm several such binding spells with no ill effect to his own magic. A secondary reason as to why he is so magically resistant to binding spells of any kind is simple. All mages agree that he and his species shouldn't exist, the only reason they can even move properly is due to the magic inside them. Without their magic, it is surmised that they would die very quickly, as they rely on it for almost everything they do. (it follows that their creator realized this, and made them exceptionally resistant to magic as a result)
Besides these magical powers and fighting skills, he also possesses keen eyesight, acute hearing and a strong sense of smell as well. (Though even he admits he’s a fairly useless tracker much of the time.)
History: Bob Rasven and his siblings were the answer to a question. That question was asked by an Elven Archmage to a group of Valtheran generals roughly around 60 S.R.. It was before Stamaria even began it’s expansion, before Valtheran had consolidated power, before it had even entered into a military alliance with Aube. This Elven Archmage (a man by the name of Tydorian), was sure that someday, the Stamarians would expand, and if that happened, they would eventually come for Valtheran.
The generals were skeptical, they had other problems to worry about, Stamaria was far away and didn’t seem much of a threat. But they were willing to listen. Tydorian laid out his plan quite simply. He wished to give Valtheran an edge in a conflict against Stamaria. One of Stamaria’s most powerful assets, he explained, was the Taron Magi.
Tydorian wanted funding from the Valtheran military to create a project with the specific task of neutralizing the Taron Magi in a war, should it happen. The generals thought he was a little bit on the crazy side, but they were willing to fund him in his goal, thinking at the worst he’d come up with some new anti-mage weaponry.
But Tydorian had a different plan, he wasn’t interesting in building a gun, no. He wanted a living weapon, something smaller than a human, dangerous in close-combat (in the hopes of overwhelming powerful mages who knew very little about close-combat) and utterly vicious. He intended to create a creature, a magically powered creature, to hunt down and kill Taron Magi.
Tydorian worked for several years before realizing that no creature on the planet quite suited his needs. Instead, he decided he would have to make one.
And so, Bob Rasven and his siblings were born.
Using DNA from Komala, and adding in some specific DNA strands that he personally altered via magic, Tydorian created ten “Test Cases”. He proudly showed the small creatures off to the Valtheran military, promising a new age of magical warrior.
They were less than overwhelmed, to tell the truth. For before the Valtheran generals stood ten creatures that resembled over-grown badgers more than anything else. The creatures each stood at the uniform height of three-and-a-half feet tall and were a uniform pitch-black in fur color. Their eyes were all the same shade of orange, and then all gave off the vague sense of “Wrongness”. Something was definitely off about the creatures. Too intelligent to be animals, but with a feral gleam in their eyes that suggested they were only barely holding themselves back from killing the generals staring down at them.
It was due to this sense of “wrongness”, as one general put it, that the program was given funding for the next stage. The generals felt that if the creatures put them ill at ease, they would that and more to their enemies.
In most Valtheran scientific and magical circles Tydorian was laughed at and ridiculed, “Look,” they would say, “There goes the man who made big badgers”. And more laughter would ensue. But Tydorian was not discouraged. He viciously defended his creations and their comical nature, declaring it would make them seem less dangerous than they really were. He didn’t want Titans of destruction, he argued. He wanted creatures that could infiltrate enemy bases through openings that were too small for humans to even think of guarding, he wanted creatures who would use their short stature to their advantage in a fight, dodging and ducking between the legs of opponents.
However, not everything was quite as he wanted with the creatures, he had to make adjustments. Their regular claws he found unsuitable, and so in a bloody medical operation (which was truly only possible because of his powerful magic) he had them replaced with titanium versions. The claws were made retractable, the limbs were lengthened and the creatures taught to stand on their hind legs, mimicking bipeds rather than quadrupeds. Their vocal cords and mouths were modified to allow for human speech, which they picked up surprisingly fast.
And then, around the time the test subjects were five years old, (already their minds were fully developed), the true training began. The creatures were taught every sort of close-combat technique imaginable, taught to hunt and kill mages (And anything else that got in their way). And then Tydorian unveiled his true genius with the creatures.
During their birth (others might call it their creation), Tydorian said he had allowed his powerful magic to seep into the creatures, giving them their own magical capabilities. But he was careful in his application of the idea. His vision was of a magical killing machine, cold and heartless, small enough to sneak through places a human wouldn’t even think to guard, and strong enough to kill any human guards they came across.
Though he was ridiculed for years, eventually he brought one of the test cases to a military training ground for a combat trial. He wished to show the Valtheran generals what their money had paid for.
Before them stood the same minuscule creature they’d been shown several years before, covered in pitch-black fur, with a triangular head and ears folded very close to its skull. They again were underwhelmed by the creature. They laughed at it and said even if it was magical (which they very much doubted, not thinking it possible for a mage to pass enough of his power on to a creation to make it truly powerful in any sense of the word), but that even if it were magical in nature and ability, the small creature would get punted around the training ground like a football.
Tydorian just grinned and bid them watch. Five Valtheran troopers were called in, including a mage. They were told to subdue the creature by any means necessary. They were also very casually informed that it was magical in nature.
Immediately the troopers went to work, the mage cast a binding spell to disable the creature’s magic. After he nodded to the troopers that it was done, the mage stood back and watched the fight begin. It didn’t last long. The creature moved like a blur, blocking blows from the soldiers, leaping over kicks and rolling on the ground in every way possible. The soldiers landed blows, it was true. But the creature seemed to rebound without even noticing it had been hurt.
The Generals were shocked when they realized why it was able to do all those things, Tydorian really had turned the diminutive creature into a combat mage which used magic to substitute for the mass it lacked in a fight. They marveled at how it seemed impervious to anti-magical attacks, seeming to simply shrug off binding spell after binding spell.
Within minutes, the creature had disabled and restrained all five of their men, and then softly padded over to stand in front of the generals and throw a crisp salute followed by an utterly inhuman and completely insane tooth-filled grin.
After that demonstration, Tydorian was given all the funding he could have asked for to create more of these vicious and apparently highly effective soldiers.
However, as time went on. It became quite clear that Tydorian was possibly the most unethical Archmage to ever grace Valtheran shores. He had a goal in mind, and did whatever he could to further that goal. And he was power-hungry. The creation of his vicious hybrid assassins required magic. It became obvious as time went on that he wasn’t decreasing in power, as he should have been each time he created one of the creatures and gave it magic. The question was raised as to how he was giving his creations magic when he himself wasn’t sacrificing any of his own.
The Valtherans became suspicious and investigated, putting out queries to others, including the Taron Magi finally when they could find no other information on the mysterious Elven mage. They were told quite plainly by the Taron that Tydorian was a madman, a complete and utter monster whom they’d expelled from their ranks (and attempted to kill) when they realized he had been performing experiments on other mages.
The Valtherans were enraged by this news, and embarrassed they’d been duped into funding an apparent plot of vengeance against the Taron. They quickly shut down the program and raided the government lab they’d given to Tydorian. Here they found the answer to his miraculous creatures with magical abilities. He had sacrificed other mages in order to transfer their power into his creations. Unfortunately, Tydorian had needed more than one mage for each creature he’d created. He had kidnaped several dozen Valtheran mages and murdered them to create fifteen of his magical assassins.
In truth, Tydorian had actually seemed to hinder Valtheran’s magical capabilities rather than aid them. Ending like many other stories of blind revenge, Tydorian was cut down while attempting to flee. His designs for the creatures he created were destroyed and the Valtheran Government was left with fifteen extremely dangerous and somewhat comical killing machines. Who, to their consternation, apparently aged slower than Elves and had no predicted end in their life-span. It seemed they were stuck with the blasted creatures, one of which was Bob Rasven.
To say he was the leader of the others would be a lie. He was the second-oldest, and the one with the most combat experience (it was he who defeated the troopers in the test-run) But despite his age and seniority, he left the talking to more eloquent members of his cadre. Their spokesperson calmly explained their wishes to the Valtheran government officials. They quite simply stated that to kill them now would be to waste the sacrifices made by the mages whom Tydorian had murdered. Rather, the diminutive warriors suggested, let them fight for Valtheran.
The Valtheran government was decidedly leery about that prospect. As they studied the creatures, they realized how fully alien they were compared to just about any other sentient creature on the planet. They weren’t heartless, no. But there was something deviously primal and savage about them, they’d been bred to be killers, and they thrived in their purpose. They showed very little loyalty to Valtheran, and it was assumed they offered their services simply to preserve their lives.
The fifteen furry warriors fully acknowledged that fact. They didn’t want to die, and they were willing to kill however many of Valtheran’s enemies it took to ensure their place on the continent.
The Valtheran military finally agreed, banking on the fact that the magical creatures were neither here nor there, they weren’t regular badgers by any definition of the word. They weren’t dwarves, they weren’t humans. The closest creatures even remotely resembling them were Komola. They were the only members of their species, and Valtheran made it very clear to them that it was the only country that would come even remotely close to accepting them. If the fifteen Tydorian Badgers (as they were then dubbed) would hunt and kill for the Valtheran government, against any enemy it chose, they would live.
The Badgers readily agreed.
And so time moved on and the Tydorian Badgers served Valtheran, information about them was kept from the general public for fear of the backlash at using such vile magical creations, they were hidden from most everyone. And when the Valtheran government had a particularly dangerous band of Orc bandits or human terrorists to deal with, they would call upon the Tydorian Badgers, who would enter the area, and kill everything in their path.
Bob Rasven was arguably the most dangerous of the cadre, he kept no ties barring a somewhat sibling-like relation with his fellow fourteen, and continued in his bloody and violent path. Relishing the day that he would be used in a full-scale war.
Current official deployment status of Valtheran Special Forces Cadre (Code-named “Tydorian”) has it assigned to Task Force Shadow Wolf as logistics support and communications aides.
Current Members (fifteen members in total) are all listed as special contractors working on extended contract for the Valtheran Government.
Current Members species designation is REDACTED
Miscellaneous:
If you mention Bob’s height in a negative fashion, he’s liable to maim you. If you mention his height in a positive fashion, he’s liable to shoot you. If you mention his height at all, he’s liable to hurt you. Don’t mention his height if you prefer your limbs remain attached and whole.
