[Uncouth T-Rex]

CHARACTER

Name: Siegfried Rosenrot

Age: 37

Species and Gender: Male Human

Symbol:

Occupation: World-Renowned Hunter and Dust Magus, Investor by way of being Old Money

Appearance:

History:

Personality:

Aura and Semblance: Semblances as a rule are considered beneficial, to the user or those around them. Even the ones that do not help at least do not appear to harm. After all, it's part of a manifestation of your soul, why would that harm you? The horror that gave Siegfried Rosenrot his detested nickname, Drachenblut, is the exception that proves the rule.

Even the appearance of the semblance is nightmarish. Should he allow it to manifest, or feel a strong temptation to do so, his body begins to smoke, and there is a palpable heat in the air to those standing within a few feet of him. His breath steams with every exhalation as his body tightens into a feral, predatory rictus of a stance, and just as his form becomes completely wreathed in sweltering mists, it happens. With a sound like door of a wrought iron furnace being blasted from its hinges, it roars to life, and a molten figure stands there in place of a man.

In appearance Siegfried becomes something more suited to the old legends than a quiet, genteel liftesyle. Tales of demons worse than the Grimm that crawled from Hell itself to prey upon mankind are called to mind when gazing upon his form. Where flesh once lay now sits a cracked and blackened exterior split in blazing veins by a molten glow. Any scrap of clothing left is swiftly incinerated by the fire that wreathes his skin, enhanced by dust or otherwise. Not a hair remains on his head, and in place of eyes and a mouth there are but pits of flame, though instead of lips a jagged obsidian edge remains behind, giving him a toothsome grin which never leaves his face.

In this state he is a force of nature, with physical capabilities well beyond those provided by aural augmentation even at its best. Smashing through concrete and steel like a child would tinker toys, he moves like the wind and strikes with the force of a locomotive, burning whatever he touches, or whatever touches him. Even his footsteps leave flames behind. In every sense but mental capacity, which becomes basal and animalistic, he is superhuman, an avatar of devastation. He has no weapon beyond his fists, and needs none. Withstanding all small weapons fire with no effect, and only slowing momentarily when struck by military grade heavy weapons, he gives little thought to defense, and little thought indeed need be given. Even if he is somehow wounded, it heals rapidly, spilling a molten material the whole time that starts conflagrations on its own.

While lost in his semblance he feels uproariously alive and completely out of control, possesed by an atavistic urge to bring his gargantuan power to bear on anything and everything in sundry. As if feeding on the adrenaline rush of combat, he is drawn to conflict and will incite violence and destruction if there is none to be had. At best his sense of reason and morality can curb the direction in which he takes his actions, but maintaining this for more than a short time is all but impossible, even with his steel-spined sense of discipline and balance. A lesser man would have already expired after the first use of this power, and been consumed by it utterly unto death. It only speaks to the unbreakable will of Siegfried Rosenrot that he yet lives after being forced into the use of this power more than once.

For his semblance, aside from being an unpermissable danger to those around him, literally consumes his body to fuel itself. The longest he has ever remained in its throes has been ten minutes. It cost him most of his liver, his gallbladder, appendix, some tarsals, a few veterbrae, and a section of his pelvis. Other uses have taken further bones and bits of organs here and there, meaning that parts of his body are either forever lost, including a kidney, or replaced by interior prosthetics. The muscle mass it strips from him in the end can be regained through training, but only after the three-week to six-month coma it puts him in has passed and he stabilizes enough to wake up. For this reason, he suspects that the next time he is forced to use his semblance, it will indeed be his last.

Combat Behavior: 

WEAPON

Name: Drachenbalger

Primary Form:

Dust Functions:

History: A family weapon, carried by every eldest son, or failing that, eldest child of the Rosenrot line since time immemorial. It is likely one of the oldest historical weapons in Vale that still see combat use, and holds up surprisingly well for its age. It can be seen in every painting of its owners that graces the Family Hall of Rosenrot Mansion.

NPC's and Associated Characters:

Winnifred Rosenrot

Marlon Murk

Marianne Murk

Melinda Murk

Maximo Murk

Meridian Murk


Rosenrot Estate and Staff:

Mr. Reginald Burbanks, Butler, House and Land Steward

Mrs. Marzipan Coode, Housekeeper

Mrs. Ginny Harbottle, Head Cook

Mr. Jackson Harbottle, Stablemaster

Mr. Alan Sykes, Head Gardener and Groundskeeper

Mr. Ransome Graves, Gatekeeper

Miss Fiona Graves, Maid

Assorted Maids: Adelia, Letitia, Rachel, Gertie, Sarah, Marice, Tilly

Assorted Manservants: Aimes, Job, Hamish, Pierre, Honshou, Barney, Stokes