Full Name: Kazma Ikezawa "The Demon"
Gender: Male
Age: 39
Element: Earth
Birthplace: Omashu
Position: Black Fang Field Commander
Training: Master Earthbender, Master Swordsman, Expert Hand-To-Hand, Intermediate Metalbender.
Personality : (300) A battle chivalrous Samurai that seems at odds with the lot of those in the field of a mercenary. Never does he stoop to trickery in combat. No matter the deviancy of his foe. He has created for himself a code of honor that will be broken for no man. Kazma has been tested many a time, and never once broke this code.
Kazma is said by the men and women under his command to be a fair but cruel leader. He does not tolerate dissent and will cut you down on the spot. The same goes for incompetence. Many laws of the land are also still in effect, and the proper level of punishment will be given for the offence. A thief will lose his hand; a rapist shall face the axe man. With rules in place there is an order that can be followed, without them, how can a leader possibly command his pack when some wolves have no care or common decency.
Many see death as the inevitable but do all they can to avoid it. This is human nature. Humans fear death; it is as natural to do so as to breathe. Kazma is no different in that respect. He does though, respect it. A warrior who lives to a ripe old age is either incredibly skilled, smart, lucky, or a coward. Death though is the constant companion one travels with. And when it decides to reach out for his hand and take him past the veil he will accept that with no quarrel. Those who die in battle fighting, die with honor fully intact. Kazma could wish for nothing better. But many seasons await him before he would like to meet the one who would force death to take him.
Live with honor. Die with honor. Uphold your name and family. Live every day like it’s your last.
Abilities: (300)
Kazma is an Earthbender of the highest skill. He was taught the basics when he was young and trained with his friends and acquaintances. All the more advanced skills he gained under the tutelage of Master Lige Guntau. Well, the former master now. Kazma can raise a pillar of stone high in to the air or swallow someone into the ground. He can do much of what you could imagine really. His signature ability is to fracture the ground in to hundreds or even thousands of pieces and spin them around him like a vortex. A typhoon if you want a simple analogy. Master Guntau also began to teach him the secrets of Metalbending, but was never able to teach him all he knew before he passed on. His control of this subset is intermediate at best. It is enough for most situations it is needed.
Swordsmanship is something he was forced to learn. Not unwillingly but not with the absolute greatest of want. All members are to learn to fight skillfully with a weapon. You may not always have the ability to use your bending, or you may lose it for a short time due to a Chi Blocker. So the necessity was there. Years of wielding a sword in battle has tempered his skills. His Katana is an extension of himself now. It is also an excellent skill to have when most Earthbending focuses more on foot movement and ranged attacks.
Another skill he has learned through sparing and through the desperate slog of battle is hand to hand combat. Knowing how to throw a person off balance or pin a target so they cannot struggle is necessary for a Fang. It’s not all about killing with them. He’s very proficient but his style is a more of the rough and tumble kind than many who may have been taught a proper form a martial arts.
Appearance:
Height: Six foot one.
Weight: 198 lbs.
Eyes: A Purpleish red, a result of his condition. Arc eyes are an issue when fighting fire benders. He’s been looking in for something to shield his eyes but has found nothing suitable.
Hair: Pulled back and tied in to a pony tail. It is always kept in order as naught to be in his eyes. It’s white due to his albinism.
Skin: Very light white due again to the albinism. It is sensitive to the sun and burns easily.
A serious man has a serious face. And Kazma’s suits him well for that purpose. His eyes are just small slits to all who look at him. A natural genetic trait that’s beneficial in that his enemies cannot track his eye movements. It may only be a slight advantage but any you may be granted should be thanked for. There is not much fat behind his cheeks, his face isn’t gaunt, but certainly thin. It is always kept shaved. A beard may look good but allows a holding place for someone to grab. It also needs time to kept tame, and Kazma can’t be bothered. He wears an open faced horned head guard like piece of armor. The top of his head is exposed as mentioned the face too. The rest is encased in armor. It all looks much like a demon, as the purpose is intimidation.
Kazma’s hair is long for a man, and white as a dove. It’s kept up in a ponytail. The condition is known as albinism. His skin is very white and sensitive to the sun, so he keeps more indoors or to the shadows. He’s an oddity to most. Not many have white hair.
He’s in perfect shape. Lean muscles earned from combat and travel. They’re tough like a solid stone, and as tireless as an Ostrich Horse. A warrior with the age and experience the years bring. Yet still in his prime. Battle has by fate or luck not harmed him terribly. Not that there are no scars. A few mar his chest and back. A lucky archer got him in the back of the thigh. The ladies love the scars though, so it’s not all that bad.
For protection he has light armor protecting various parts of his body. Much like a samurai’s armor, his consists of a combination of leather, scale plates and plate armor. His chest is a mix of scale and leather offering some protection from weapons but less to some forms of bending. His shoulder pieces are heavy plate, leg armor as well. His demon shaped helm is a two piece mould formed held together by leather ties. All the iron and leather have been altered to have a green hue. He has a grey weaved silk shirt under all this armor and cloth pants. The shirt helps to stop arrows by twisting and bunching up on the arrow head to absorb the energy. It may not fully protect him but it may save from the worst damage.
Weaponry & Other Gear: (Omit this field if no such items)
Katana (Copy-paste as many times as needed)
Materials: Meteorite Iron, bronze, bamboo, linen.
Description: A four and a half foot meteorite iron blade. Light silver in coloration. Forged from an ancient space fall. It may even predate the Avatar’s. Though theres no way to prove this. The possibility is quite real. The handle is bamboo wrapped in a linen cloth for the grip. The pommel and guard are hammered bronze.
History: (720)
History has been filled with legends for as long as man has walked on the earth. Avatars, leaders, conquerors, warriors, patrons of the people. Though most were only known for a short while after their time. Some have transcended the ages to be told in stories. Kazma aspires to be told in stories like them. Whether he shall be considered to be virtuous or villainous shall be decided later.
Kazma was born in the great mountain sprung cityof Omashu. His father was Yen Ikezawa a city guard captain and his mother Kilala a home maker. His mother was like most, a kind, nurturing type. She always kissed his scrapes and bruises to make them better. His father was of the stern faced, iron bellied man type. He took his position as a captain a bit too seriously and many brushed off his bravado. He was at least competent in his position. Kazma looked up to his father like many boys do. He instilled his sense of honor into the boy, something that stuck well. He also taught him how to deal with the boys that picked on him for his hair. “First use your words against them, if they persist… You may use your fists”. Great advice, too bad the other kids didn’t get such from their fathers when he fought back.
Some time in to his 17th year, Kazma fell in with a bad crowd of people. A gang called the Rockshard Runners. Small time stuff was all they really did. Like protection and smuggling. They had connections though with groups higher up the totem pole. Now throughout his tenure with the Rockshards he honed his Earthbending skills. It comes in a lot of use when wishing to move about undetected. They also trained against one another if they ever had to take on a city guard or some vigilante. Not that they’d want to, but precaution was necessary. Now all this had been kept quite secret from his father. His hide would be tanned and hung to dry on the walls if he ever caught wind.
Luck wasn’t an endless well though. One of the gang’s places was raided and a few guys rounded up. They squealed on everyone up and down they knew, Kazma was one of them. He remembers this day well. His mother Kilala was making dinner in the house and he was chopping some wood for the fire. And then his father came home. (See RP section below for the continuing story.)
Kazma fled the city with just the clothes on his back. Knowing full well that due to the consequences of his actions he could never return so long as his family lived there. Or so long as his father still called Omashu home. He traveled north towards the old Fire Nation colonies. And it was here his new life began to take shape. The beginning was a struggle. He subsisted off what he could gather or hunt. Sometimes he found work as a laborer for a day. Never did he beg.
More than a year later from the day he took flight from Omashu. Far to the north he viewed a battle from up on a hill. The view was fantastic; he could witness the whole field. Two local warlords were feuding and the pot had boiled over. Several hundred men on each side took to the field. Benders, non-benders, and men of fortune. It lasted well over and hour before one side broke ranks and ran. Hundreds littered the field and the victors stood above them. He continued watching the looting go on as the sun began to set. Most had left the way they came but a few were staying off to their side. He was curious as to why. They had won and taken the field. Looted all the valuables the dead may have. As he was puzzling this one broke ranks and hustled towards him. Kazma stood up startled. Not scared though, it was just one guy and he was quite confident in his abilities as a bender. When the man had made it half way up the hill he finally called to him. It was a brief exchange but the just of it was an invitation to their camp to regale what he had seen to the others. It wasn’t often someone had a bird eye view. Seeing no malice and that the victors would be merry from their victory he accepted.
They revealed to be a mercenary group named the Black Fang. They sought to bring the fight to those who unjustly wielded their power. He told them he was a bender like many of them as the night went on and the conversation had shifted from the battle to other things. Jokingly the man who had first spoken to him offered him to join the Fang. What he didn’t expect was a yes to that proposition. Kazma had nothing to live for now that he’d lost his family to his own failings. Maybe the life of a warrior working against the corrupt and tyrannical would be a way to serve some good purpose in this life.
Ever since then he has served the Black Fang and through it the oppressed. Twenty years of bloody conflict.
Reasons Why You Believe You Deserve a Master-Tier Character/Position:
Why do I believe I deserve to wield the power of a master tier character? Well I may not have too much time served here but I have rp’d numerous other adventures across the net. So experience in my opinion should not be a big limiting factor. Now I wish to control such a character so I can match strengths of a certain Water Tribe girl and firstly advance my other characters plot and hopefully create something larger that I can draw others in to if they wish to play. Buildings are made of individual bricks but need a strong foundation.
**Required of ALL Master Tier Characters**Character Box:
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Kazma Ikezawa
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Kazma brought down the axe. The log split down in two and clattered down into the others he already cut. He picked up another log and set it. His axe came back once more but he held off. His father was standing at the gate. “Hey dad whats going on…”. Kazma tailed off the level of his voice. His father’s face was pure blank expression. Something was wrong though, he normally didn’t just stop to chat with him when he got home. “Hello dad. Whats goin’ on”?
Yen breathed deeply and exhaled just as much. “I know son”. He balled his right hand into a fist. “How could you dishonor the family? I have no choice but to take you in”.
“But I”? Kazma dropped down the axe. He was stunned that he’d been found out. He knew what a fine wire he was walking across. Damn everything. “You’re not bringing me anywhere”. Kazma pulled back one of his legs preparing to run.
“You are my son and will do as your told. You’re worse than a common criminal because you are my son. I have no choice”. Yen cocked his eyes as far as they could go. His wife had heard all the shouting and was standing in the doorway, tears streaming down her face.
“I’m sorry mother. I never wanted you to know… For any of this to happen. Goodbye”. Kazma jumped in to the air with the aid of his bending. He landed on the roof of the house and started on his getaway. “Stop”! His father shouted. He was hot on his feet and didn’t even realize it until he had shouted. It seemed the whole world had crashed down around him. His vision was blurred around the edges from all the blood pumping into his legs. The adrenalin was pumping so hard in his veins.
A large rock just barely missed tripping up his legs. This whole time they’d been running down the rooftops. Kazma couldn’t keep in the open; he needed to give his old man the slip. And slip he tried, from the roofs. His thin souled shoes did little to absorb the recoil when they hit the cobblestone road. “Damn”. Kazma bolted again down the street, pushing people out of his way. He caught an open stretch when a rock thrown from behind hit square between his shoulder blades. Kazma went rolling downwards and across the ground. His back came to a stop against a cabbage cart; he knocked most of them off it from the impact. The fugitive brought himself to all fours. His father had caught up to him and was ready to make the arrest; he had the handcuffs out and everything. Kazma was not going to go down. He did what he thought he never would do, stand up to his father and fight him, man to man.
“I won’t go to jail. I don’t care if I tarnished your honor. I chose the life I did but its mine to do with as I please. So fight me, and we’ll see”. Kazma stood up to full height. His back ached from the strike. He took a fighting stance and readied to take fate by the horns.
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Kazma Ikezawa 
