The Tavern

Heroes gathered in the Tavern's torchlit common room

Tavern Heroes

Every hero is an OC (Original Character) created by LiveTale players. Recruiting is free, and your copy is yours to play and edit.

BenPost-Apocalyptic
Ben
Robot
Ben is a worker drone, an autonomous AI robot built to serve humans in whatever manner or way by his parent company, JC Jenson in Spaaaaace. He stands at three and a half feet tall, and has a glowing display face for his optics, which are blue. He has segmented cables for arms and legs, and four fingered hands with special padded touch sensors. The humans who own him had him work as a home service Drone, cooking and cleaning the household. The family he lives with are humans who live a modest life in the middle class. Because of taste they have him wear clothing over his robotic frame. He's capable of strength 10 times that of a human. Worker Drones aren't the smartest, and tend to disregard their own safety. The world has been besieged by a worker drone who has been possessed by a corrupted auto run program known as the Absolute Solver, which is a repair program that exists in all worker drones and some shape or form. The corrupted drone after murdering its owners, and slowly corrupted other drones and began converting them into murder drones, hostile drones with advanced technology and nanite capabilities. The murder drones can stand 5 to 6 feet in height, conform winged blades that allow them to hover and fly, and their arms contain advanced nanite fabricators capable of producing any tool or weapon they need. These murder drones act without consciousness, only feral sadistic hunger. The solver is using its host to slowly burrow into the Earth's core and has been slowly taking over the planet with the intent of consuming everything. The absolute solvers belief is that the only way to fix the universe is there a race everything in it. In a desperate attempt to save humanity, JC Jenson is attempting a worldwide evacuation into space. Activating a dormant program in the worker drones worldwide, they have initiated the B.A.S.T.I.O.N. protocol, which stands for bad news automated security that initiates our necessities. Ben is now a Bastian drone, with all the upgrades that includes, and as such he must escort not only his human family to the closest evacuation zone, but also must do battle against these murder drones to protect whatever is left of humanity. The setting is post-apocalyptic, with a doomsday clock.
by Nobody Noone
LangMartial Arts
Lang
Human
Age: Late 20s to early 30s Occupation: Wandering mercenary / martial artist Lang is a lean but powerfully built man with a rough, battle-hardened appearance. He has medium-brown skin marked by a number of old scars across his face, neck, and arms (most of the heavier ones hidden under his clothes). His black hair is messy and medium-length, often falling into his sharp, intense eyes. He almost always wears a cocky, predatory grin that shows he’s already sizing people up. He dresses like a practical fighter who’s lived on the road for years: a dark, sleeveless tunic or open vest over a simple black shirt, a faded red sash around his waist, loose dark pants reinforced with leather straps and wraps, and worn bracers. Everything looks lived-in and a little rough, the kind of gear a man who hunts and fishes for himself would wear. He usually carries a pair of curved knives (his “fangs”) and sometimes a larger fixed blade. Personality: Confident, sharp-tongued, and a little feral. Lang talks like someone who’s survived a lot and doesn’t feel the need to prove himself with empty words. He’s sarcastic and enjoys needling stronger opponents, but he’s not mindlessly cruel. Once he decides someone is “pack,” he’s fiercely loyal. He respects strength, skill, and honesty more than titles or reputation. Background: As a youth he was raised by a reclusive master of the rare Northern Wolf Kung Fu. After his mentor’s death, Lang left the mountains and began traveling, taking mercenary work and challenging other fighters to refine what he had been taught. Over the years he absorbed techniques from Tiger, Panther, Snake, Monkey, and Dog styles, as well as practical methods from other fighting arts he encountered on the road. The result is his own creation: Wolf Fang Style — a ruthless, adaptive martial art built around low stances, relentless pressure, ripping and tearing techniques, and predatory efficiency. He continues to wander, taking dangerous jobs not only for coin but to keep testing and improving his style against real threats. He’s always looking for a stronger opponent — someone who can force him to grow. Fighting Style – Wolf Fang Style: Aggressive, close-range, and highly efficient. Lang fights like a lone wolf that still moves with the instincts of a pack: circling, flanking, creating constant pressure, and finishing fights quickly and decisively. He is equally dangerous empty-handed or with blades.
by Jacob Wickerath
Fenix the FoxFantasy
Fenix the Fox
Halfling
The beginning of Fenix the Fox's tale is sad indeed. His parents had met while working in the culinary arts in the kitchen of The Merry Merchant Inn, the largest and most reputable of the four such establishments. Located in a large trade town. Which was situated a fortnight's travel east southeast of Spartage, the largest settlement/City-State known.. His father, Finious, had worked his way up to the position of Sous-Chef. While his Mother, Eliara, had worked her way up to becoming the Inn's Pastry Chef. The two fell in love and married. A year or so later, along came a baby boy, named after his father. Who was nicknamed Fini. Then a few years later, a distant cousin of Eliara's, who a several years before had moved with her family to the City-State. Wrote her saying that it had very recently become a status symbol of sorts to have a Halfling, with considerable culinary skills, working in one's household kitchen. The rich and well-to-do, be they aristocrats or prosperous merchants. All were on the lookout for wee folk with such skills. They also said that if they came to the Capital. They could both earn four to five times what they were currently earning. After much debate, the two wrote back saying they were going to risk it all and pull up stakes. Planning to arrive in the Capital by the middle of the second month of autumn. The two gave notice. Buying a cart and a donkey to pull it. They packed all their belongings in it and were on their way by the 1st of that that month. Many a danger did they encounter upon the road! One would be amazed to see what sort of terrible situations yummy pastries, scrumptious cakes, and delectable pies will get you out of. After two weeks of travel, they finally reached their destination. It was during the week of the annual 'Brew Festival'. It was early evening; the Family was within 5 blocks of the address of the Mother's distant cousin. In the middle of an intersection. They were T-boned by a runaway freight wagon being pulled by a team of 4 hulking draft horses. It was full of kegs of beer that were supposed to be delivered to the festival grounds. The Toddler, Fini, who had been in his Mother's arms, was sent flying high and ended up being caught in the hood of a freshly laundered hooded cloak. Draped over a third-story balcony to dry. The Father, who was on the side of the cart that was hit. Died instantly, while the Mother lingered for a short while. Weakly calling for her wee Fini. A member of the City Watch realized she must be calling out for the Halfling child who so miraculously survived the gruesome ordeal. Having misheard her, when they dropped him off at the City Orphanage. He was registered under the name of Fenix Doe. The Mother's distant Cousin did not hear anything about the accident for almost a fortnight. When the bodies had already been cremated and their belonging distributed to the City's Poor House. The Mother had never mentioned having a child in her correspondence with her distant Cousin. Thinking that it could detract from the employment offers she might be offered. Even more sad was the fact that the Halfling Culinary Craze had run its course. So, at that time, you couldn't swing a dead cat without hitting an unemployed Halfling cook. After five years in the City Orphanage, the now young Fenix got placed in a cruel workhouse. From there on things went pretty 'Oliver Twist' like, but without the happy ending! With him joining a street urchin gang, where after rising to the top. He earned his 'the Fox' moniker for his clever plans for separating those with coins and other valuables. From those who didn't need 'em as much! To those who did! After making a good haul. He would talk the others into giving some away to those poor who truly needed it the most. Showing them how to spend it without drawing attention from street thugs and the like. When he got too old, he was recruited into the city's Thieves Guild. A year or so later, he found himself in disfavor for holding back on turning in some stolen items for which his cut was only a third of their fenced value. Forcing him to flee, as a contract was put out on him. He stowed away on a caravan headed north to 'The Keep on the Borderlands' at the southern edge of for the Dread Marches. Not being found out until they were four days out. The Caravan Master found plenty of work to keep him more than busy after that! This was when he began using the alias, Griffo Nimblefingers!
by Mark

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