Aatto is a Captain in the Forsaken Army of Zurich.
|The Steel Commander|
|Race Level||Advanced Forsaken|
|Base of Operations||Zurich|
|Affiliation||Forsaken Army of Zurich|
Aatto was a relatively tall man of 5'10", well built and sharing the same black hair which was prevalent in the forest. His facial features were slightly gaunt and scarred, cisled out through a life of spars, hunting and living on the knife edge which is Eden. His eyes were a dull brown, and weren't exactly a point of pride for Aatto, although he never outright hated them ether.
In terms of clothing he would often wear white linen tops, leather vests and dark trousers, the attire of a semi-well off resident of Zurich. In battle Aatto would don simple armor, made of metal strapped to leather in various non jointed parts of his body. It was cheap and simple to make, so most soldiers could at least afford a basic set. At his hip there was a crude long sword and a spear rested on his back.
Upon his transformation into a forsaken, Aatto's armor melded into his skin and became a permanent fixture in his body. His skin itself took on a grey, metallic shade, loosing any warmth it might have once held. So to did his hair loose it's pigment and red trails crossed his neck and torso. His once brown eyes turned red and bloodshot, the latter ailment merely from weeks without sleep.
He still carries a spear on his back, but it's now coated in a permanent paint of blood, and had bandages wrapped tightly around it's metal shaft for better grip. Onto the leather/metal parts of his body, various patters have been painted on by his own blood after he'd been nearly killed by a Horror. On his right shoulder Aatto has a thick metal pauldren, crafted to a much higher degree than the Zurich Armor, yet it's origin is completely in his forsaken transformation, not the hammer and anvil.
Honor, Duty and Pride are the three morals by which Aatto lives, and if that doesn't tell you what he's like then I'm not sure what will. The man is a warrior, and as such will live by his own knight like creed until he dies, or is unable to carry it out any longer. It's a foolhardy goal, but one that he can't really be deterred from.
Both in combat and in service to his commanders, Aatto will place his own pride before anything else. He will carry out almost any order or action as long as it adheres to his creed. So, asking an adversary to face him in battle or refusing to kill children are all occurrences which have taken place at multiple points in his life. Assassins, thieves and cowards are all the types of people he hates most, finding their lack of conviction and tendency to run from battle a shameful sight.
You'll never find his back turned, or him running in the other direction. Aatto will always stay to fight unless a retreat is ordered. This honor and pride is prevalent in Aatto to a fault, and has resulted in dozens of scars scattered across his torso.
Away from battle and planning, the man can actually be rather compassionate and caring. Or at least he was. Ever since becoming a forsaken all now hide away from him, even the tainted of their army. He's not cruel, but does do what is necessary, an act which sometimes leaves other feeling alienated or with the wrong impression. His temper can also have that same effect, yet no matter how angered or frustrated he may become, Aatto would never hit a woman. Like most men of his standing, he believes them to be weaker beings in need of protection from men like himself and the dangers of Eden.
Anger is also how Iam finds his way into the recesses of the warrior's mind. His focus isn't particularly advanced, but his nature tends to keep the whispers of God at bay. When enraged, these inhibitions are often lost and God has far more of an influence of the Forsaken's actions.
Although he grew up in Zurich and was on the Forest patrol, Aatto doesn't think of the forest as anything more than a forest. It's just a place where savages live and food can be found. Nothing more. He's truly a city dweller if there ever was one, but from experiences on patrols he does at least know the methods of surviving in the forest, even if he doesn't respect that which it can gift.
Mundane. Would have probably been the best word to sum up the birth and growth of the young Aatto. Or at least as mundane as things could be in their Eden.
His mother and father both had families who's ties went back in the overgrown city of Zurich many a generation. They'd met by circumstance in the market and two years later were married with a healthy infant having just been born. The family wasn't exceedingly rich like some of the politicians in Zurich, but it was a time of peace, and Aatto's father made a good enough living off crafting crude metal parts for the carts of the traders who littered their city. Young and impressionable, the boy would watch his father day in and day out, working the forge and letting loose swarms of glowing sparks fly.
With their eyes and attention blinded by the embers, both Aatto and his father grew increasingly unaware of the only woman in their life. She would still be there for breakfast and dinner but while they spent their days in the forge, the woman became ever more infatuated with the exotic traders and tribes men who would visit the city. All of whom showed far more interest in her than her husband. There was one in particular, a trader selling his wears from hunting out in the vast forest. He would tell her stories of his exploits out in the wild, tales of bravado and excitement. Tales of his Wolf tribe and how the whole forest bowed to them and their leader. Needless to say, the city woman was infatuated.
Six months later and the fights were almost all Aatto was exposed to when not at the forge. Both his father and mother knew that the child in her ever expanding womb wasn't his, leaving violent displays etched into the boy's mind. Yet, his father never laid a hand on his weeping mother, not even in the height of his rage. This continued up until eight months had passed and he finally demanded she leave their little ram shack of a house/smithy. The woman obliged in a fit of tears, fleeing Zurich and running out into the forest, desperately trying to find the tribe her lover had spoken of. She never did find it. Instead all she found was an old and broken down hut, where she took shelter for the coming weeks, and the place where she ultimately passed away giving birth to her second son.
His mother had died. That was what Aatto was always told whenever he inquired about the woman. Honestly he didn't really miss her at all, being only three winters old when she had left. All he could really remember of the silver hair woman was the fighting, and without her his father returned to normal, so when all was said and done, he was actually quite content just to continue on watching his father work away at the forge.
His fifteenth year was the year business boomed and prices soared. A dozen tainted, lead by Severus, the former captain of the guard, set ablaze the central hall and in a flash of scare tactics, took over a small portion of the city for themselves. Rumors shot around as to why this might have happened, but Aatto didn't really care. All he and his father cared about was the fact that they were being commissioned to make hundreds of swords, shields and sets of armor for the city guard.
What he had never comprehended, was that it would be he who'd be forced to take up his own tools on his seventeenth winter. Severus's Army had swelled with Tainted and Forsaken from around Zurich and now controlled almost all of the city across the river. Battles were breaking out on both the front against the now Forsaken army and against the push of Corrupted and Horrors at the exposed walls, the things thriving off the pain and turmoil brought about by war.
His father writhed and protested at this forced conscription, but Aatto hardly reacted out of the shock. The men argued as they had when his mother was around, right up until Aatto's father threw down his hammer in protest and was promptly dragged away by the men. To where they took him, Aatto still does not know. All he knows is that he never saw the sparks of the metal fly before his eyes ever again.
Training was the first portion of Aatto's new life as an apparent solider. The days seemed almost endless as he drilled with various weapons over and over again. Although what quickly became apparent to his superiors, was that Aatto was a fairly powerful man, quite obviously a touched if there ever was one. What he lacked in skill the teen eventually made up for in brute speed and strength, quickly out doing most others at his age and having him trained by some of the more experienced members of the guard. It was people like Aatto who made up the core of their forces, so they made sure to put extra emphasis on his progression.
He'd been told that were he to follow their orders he'd be able to see his father again and given permission to return to his work. Young and impressionable as he was, Aatto obliged to their every whim and after four years was a near model solider. He followed his orders to the letter, became one of the most accomplished combatants in the Humanist army and carried out a number of successful missions against both the Corrupted and the Forsaken.
Eventually he reached the rank of lieutenant and was put into the forest patrol under the pretense that there had been an increase in hostile tribal activity. This wasn't untrue of course, with the Wolf tribe was waning in power and the others were acting up. But that was of no threat to Zurich at the moment. No, what they really wanted, was to have a show of force to any who might dwell in the forest, telling them that Zurich was the player with all the power, even if it were in a state of civil war.
Every time they returned to Zurich they were greeted with cheers of congratulations and the graces of those who still scoffed down all the propaganda about how dangrous it was outside, and how the patrols were protecting them from not only the Forsaken, but the Horrors out there too. Even if they'd never even fought one. However the mere idea that they had and were surviving emboldened both the citizens and the other soldiers on the other various lines of combat.
By the age of twenty three, scars littered Aatto's chest and almost his entire squad had been lost and replaced, lost and replaced endlessly. Being one of the 1/10 Touched with the physical process of a tainted, most men who Aatto fought with fell to the claws, fists and twisted blades of the Corrupted. Yet they were continually set out, Aatto continued to take his orders and continued to lead his own squad.
By this point the man was well and truly tainted, but he wasn't aware of that in the slightest. There had been no large event to signal his progression, and the powers only showed themselves in life or death, when Adrenalin was enough to blind himself to a piece of metal covering his un-armored skin, or that his shock-wave was anything more than pure strength. So Aatto remained oblivious to his connection, assuming the whispers in his dreams were just common nightmares.
His command, life and duty, it was on one of these patrols that all that ended. Horrors were scarcely seen so close to the city, at least on the Humanist's side of the river, so one could imagine just how devastating one would be to a small group of mostly green boys. In fact by the time the beast had moved on past their group and towards Zurich, only Aatto remained, covered in red trails and most of his skin ripped away. Were it not for the beast's natural attraction to the Forsaken in Zurich, he probably would have been finished off right then and there. Thankfully, it hadn't paid him anymore heed then the now unrecognizable men scatted around the place.
Surviving only thanks to his naturally high resistance, Aatto sat there for hours, thoughts of his duty to Zurich plaguing him almost as much as the incessant voice in his head. Although for once the thing spoke sense. "Move. Revenge. Fight" It repeated over and over. Exactly the same thought that he himself was having. So, in an effort of pure will, he stood and limped back to Zurich, using his spear as a crutch. Despite this effort, the man was loosing blood far too quickly and eventually dropped down onto the forest floor, a kilometer out from the city.
The wolves probably would have taken him that night, were it not for the kindness of a small woman, Manhattan Harris, finding the fallen solider and taking him somewhere safe.
When he finally awoke, the blood had ceased to flow and cleaned off his body. He was laying on a simple bed of straw, still in his armor, with one half torn off by the Horror. Dazed, he tried to pull it off himself. Nothing happened. He reached his fingers underneath as best he could and pulled. Nothing happened. In fact the pain was tremendous. As if he were pulling off his own skin. Because he effectively was.
After the attack of the Horror, the only thing that had saved him was God changing his body, grafting on his armor to the man's skin and sealing off his wounds. In his confused state, Aatto still couldn't fully comprehend what this made him. What it made him to everyone in Zurich...
Bewildered, he stumbled out of the bed, never learning of the maiden who had saved his life, and stumbled out onto the back ally street. For the next few nights he just slept in those gutters, kept warm by the leather skin.
The eventual shock was overwhelming, followed by yet more confusion when he finally realized what had happened. He was a Forsaken. Yet he was not a madman or a maniac. This went against everything he'd been told since he was old enough to understand. Forsaken were evil incarnate, and now he was one of them.
"Try to take off..." The voice teased, and he did just that. Scratching, tearing and pulling away at the metal and leather. Eventually he succeeded, tearing away the leather to reveal nothing but an open wound. He screamed in horror, for the first time in his life.
The Horror which attacked Aatto hadn't been an anomaly, three had invaded the city in one of the greatest Horror attacks for fifty years. They were all intent on the Forsaken, but the Humanists still harbored all those in the Zoo. There were also those who took the opportunity to launch a number of attacks into the Humanist territory, drawing more of the Horrors there than the Forsaken lands.
By the time Aatto had woken up in Manhattan's bed, the attack was weeks in the past and most of the Horrors had been drawn away from the city by released captives from the Zoo or a few brave tainted. Their mark, however, was unmissable. Buildings, walls, bridges and markets had been swept aside in their wake, and the only way the residents had survived was by retreating into the old subway system under the city.
This of course, was of no consequence to Aatto who stumbled out from the alleyway, after his skin had healed itself at an alarming rate. People were still scarce after the attacks and his still normal skin and hair made him look to be nothing more than just a beaten warrior.
And that was just what one of the guards thought as Aatto came limping back to base, like the good soldier he was. Concern had filled the voices of his once comrades as they took him to the nearest medical outpost. They too seemed to encounter the same problems as the now Forsaken. They couldn't remove his armor. At first they naturally assumed it had stuck on some how with blood and sweat. But after trying to cut it off, only for the blade to shatter, they knew exactly what he was. "Forsaken!" Went up the cries, even after he was tied down by four men whom he had once trained with. "He's infected, everyone get away!" Their commander called, bringing in two men laden with chains and covered in full body armor.
Many was the night that Aatto thought about how he should have escaped before they'd taken him to the zoo, yet never was the night that he actually attempted it. He was chained at all times and left on display in a cage while he watched people he knew, people who had cheered for him, walking by and jeering at the fallen commander. Hell was an understatement for the man who was built solely around his pride.
A month passed, then two, then twelve. Every day he suffered the taunts, gawps and jeers. Every week he suffered the attempts of Valhalla Ahnia to investigate into his physiology, how he ticked. Aatto was 'owned' by the state, and so any experiment was consented to. Not that any ever worked. Even the thrust of a blade couldn't pierce Aatto's skin. Debilitated by drugs or no. Like when he was a tainted, or when the Horror attacked, his taint reacted naturally to danger and tried to defend him as best it could. God wasn't done with this toy just yet.
Whenever he could he would curse the madman for what he did, he and all the others who tried to use Aatto for profit, as he had seen being done with a Forsaken who could grow bone from his arms. His pride was lost, and along with it his dignity. Eventually he just gave in to the daily roteen, the gruel and constant shame. How could his Army have done this to him? How could his friends have done this to him?
Everyday in the cells his hair would grow whiter, his skin paler and the erratic red lines deeper. He found himself even trying to have conversations with the voice from his dreams, but all it repeated was, "Run, fight, kill, fun." In a never ending cycle. Probably if it were not for the drugs he would have been mad in less than half a year.
Yet one day, something changed. His head cleared and he could see again for the first time in a year. Lucid thought quickly followed, along with the urge to escape. But, thankfully, he managed to suppress it. Something told him that trying to break out in broad day light was not a good idea.
He didn't try that night, nor for the next, or the next. Instead he just plotted, trying to figure out how the guard's shifts rotated and what might be his best path of escape. Then one moonless night, something changed. There were no guards, no torches. Just all encompassing shadow. He didn't even stop to think of how odd this was, he just wanted out.
And so, as the other Forsaken were freed one by one by a Ghost, Aatto began to writhe against his chains, straining for release and freedom. He thwacked away at the bars to his cage for what seemed like hours, but was really less than a minute, stretched out by adrenalin. Eventually he drew both hands back and with a roar smashed them into the cage one last time, shattering it and sending out a moderate shock wave.
The next thing he knew the flat side of a sword struck him in the head and sent the tin man down to the ground like a tree. A few seconds later, when the blur faded, there was a figure in all black with a hood drawn up over his face, bearing down on him and covering his mouth. "Are you a fucking idiot?!" He hissed in the common tongue, withholding the urge to just slit his throat right then and there. With a sigh he stood and pointed towards a nearby subway entrance. "You lot, head down there, follow the glowing arrows and you should be fine."
In the background bells sprung to life and specs of fresh torches sprung up around the zoo, cries of rage giving away the location of the guards as they found their comrades dead. "You too." He hissed again, kicking Aatto in the side. When he finally did the shadow of a man was gone and fully armored men were pouring in around Aatto.
Knowing a fight was inevitable, a spear formed in his hands and he entered the same stance as those around him, one taught to all who were trained by the humanists. If he were to die here, then Aatto would die with whatever honor he had left intact.
Even that was stripped away as a rain of black daggers fell onto the half dozen men. Hitting them all in ether the jugular or heart, depending on where the armor was weakest. Both offended and confused, Aatto frantically looked around, only to see a slightly darker shadow trail across a near by roof top.
At the end of the tunnel half a dozen Forsaken were there to greet him with warm faces and pats on the back. About half he recognized as prisoners who must have escaped with him, the others were unknown. Just as he was about to quiz them on just what the hell was going on, a scaled man stepped forward and held out a hand. "Welcome brother. I'm Severus, the leader of our little resistance." His tongue was slightly forked and whenever he spoke, the 's's were extended a bit.
Normality and his sanity soon returned as Severus explained to him just what the war was really about; using Forsaken for profitable gain, while masking it behind the fear of the people. After what he'd seen in that Zoo, Aatto didn't doubt this man for a second. He even swore his fealty right then and there to this man who had saved his life. Trying to push the thought of that dis-honorable shadow from his mind. One day he would have his revenge for taking his fight from him.
Rehabilitation didn't take long, not with the facilities of the Forsaken army and Aatto's own incredibly resistant body. He learnt of their tactics and the history of the war so far, quite surprised to find out the other half of the story from those that had lived it. So the Forsaken weren't monsters... Funny how that was still a hard pill to swallow, even after his time spent in the zoo as a Forsaken himself. Part of him had actually felt it was what he deserved.
After relaying his own tale to the Forsaken, Aatto was almost immediately put in place as a commander again, of a squad of one other Forsaken and eight tainted. His years of fighting in the forest translated almost perfectly to a guerrilla style warfare. The Humanists had a massive advantage in numbers, but they didn't want to kill and they weren't nearly as powerful.
And so the knight returned to the field of battle, fighting in the streets, the river bed, the forest and subway. If they weren't striking against the Humanists, then they were defending against Corrupted. a two sided war for all but God's forces.
With the freed Forsaken from the zoo taking back their roles, the Forsaken Army even managed to push the humanist back, until they controlled all the territory on their side of the river. Killing his old comrades was something Aatto didn't really have a problem with. Not because he hated them, or wanted revenge, he just knew that to face them in battle meant they could have an honorable and worthy death.
Thoughts of the Shadow-man hadn't crossed Aatto's mind for near a year as he walked back into his office at central command. When he walked through the door, the causal banter to his partner was cut short as he saw the man he'd fought with for the past year sprawled out on the floor. And there he was. The shadow-man from the zoo, leaning casually on the wall as if nothing had happened. He'd killed the very man he rescued from hell...
A growl escaped his throat and the dark man looked up, as he noticed the idiot from the zoo. It was the smirk which set Aatto off into a charge, pulling out a blade from his arm and drawing it back to cleave him in half. And it did for a second, before the shock wave was released and blew out the wall completely, along with the smoke that was Kylar. When he finally reformed he just stood on the open leadge and tutted, shaking his head as if Aatto were just a child. Then without warning, he fell backward, free fell head first, then flipped at the last second and dissipated into the shadow.
Aatto could only fall to his knees in despair. Despair at the loss of his comrade, the sullying of his pride and his failure as a commander.
Later, when he demanded answers from Severus, he was told everything. The man was considered a Ghost, an assassin for hire who had vested interests in both sides. They'd hired him to rescue the prisoners, but the leader could only assume he'd taken a job from the Humanists to even the scale. All in all three Forsaken were dead, ether killed while thanking him for the rescue, or while they slept away their whiles.
In the absence of another experienced commander, Aatto was promoted to a Captain and Severus's left hand man. The one he would never turn to, but could rely on to finish the job.
That was where he stayed until now, fighting for what he believed to be the correct and moral side in this seemingly endless conflict. In his free time for years after that event, Aatto searched for the assassin who'd had saved him twice, yet taken more from him then even the Humanists had. A man who he'd vowed to face and kill in battle.
Powers and AbilitiesEdit
Fighting Style: Describe your OCs fighting style.
You can also put any special skills here, however they all need to be explained in the History.
Curse of SteelEdit
Aatto's taint is based upon manipulation of metallic substances. Any element on the left side of the periodic table which is malleable when solid, with dislocated electrons and strong metallic bonds. He's able to change the form of metal to various extents including weapons, tools and armor.
When being manipulated the metal will often loose all rust, wear, damage, and will take on a silvery reflective surface in a liquid state. Adding his own energy to the metals can melt them down and determine how they reform, the more energy he implements, the more drastic the changes.
By ether using the metal of his skin, or that around him, Aatto can form various weapons and tools from the metal. As it's a malleable substance, all he need to is add his own energy and quantum manipulation to shape it how he would like, whether that be into a hammer or a sword. The larger the tool, the more time and energy it takes to create and he's limited to only things which he has seen before, studied and understands the concept.
Unlike his first ability, this isn't one that allows him to create a shield to defend himself with. Instead Aatto will cover his entire body in a thick metal, freezing him in place for it's duration, but stopping almost any attack which is of equal or lower cost and their stat isn't 4 higher than the average of his Focus and Res. This of course all depends on whether or not he can react fast enough and will last for at most one turn, with a three turn cooldown.
Unlike his two former Abilities, Aatto's final power has nothing to do with his manipulation of metals. Rather it's based off the quantum manipulation of his muscles to increase their strength, similar to how touched function. However, unlike touched he's able to push this to extreme levels and so striking the ground with ether his fist or a metal object will send out a large, omni-directional shockwave. It's incredibly draining for him to use something of such a magnitude, but the destructive force often leaves craters in it's wake.
|Earned||0 (Link to be added...)|
|Points spent on abilities||0|
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