In a crumbling world teetering on the edge of annihilation, a group of strangers are pulled together by fate—and a last-ditch mission to stop an unworldly force from tearing the planet apart. Among them is Fodder, a one-armed ex-assassin turned reluctant hero, juggling odd jobs and old ghosts.
As ancient powers awaken and long-buried secrets rise, the team must survive hostile terrain, deadly politics, and each other. With time running out and no guarantee of survival, they face a single, brutal truth: saving the world might cost them what little they have left.
Dark, stylish, and character-driven, Crimson Fault blends high-stakes action with emotional depth, perfect for fans of Final Fantasy VII, Trigun, and Arcane.
Thank everyone who took some time out of your days to audition for these roles here! Crimson fault is only just getting off the ground from here and I really want everyone to look alive for any roles I may be looking for later! As of currently I will most likely be posting the rough parts of it within the next 2 months but with VA I’m already moving along the system.
A total of 413 words.
Fodder has a complete 49 words.
Zhellan has a complete 100 words.
The script is in the context of as if Zhellan was first getting introduced to the audience, so he has more lines in this one! If there are any questions, let me know!
Fodder Malrik Grievix is a green tiefling with a quiet, brooding edge and a past soaked in blood. Once an assassin, he lost his arm in a job gone wrong and walked away from the killing life—for a while. Now in his late 20s, he juggles five rough jobs just to stay afloat: miner, mechanic, noodle shop grunt, occasional boat hand, and sometimes… things he doesn’t talk about.
(Soft, awkward, in a more playful way, trying to be a dad but not great at it) • “No, I didn’t forget your birthday. I just… remembered late. Still counts.”
[to an enemy trying to talk their way out] “Save the speech. I charge extra for monologues.”
(Shrugging off a long day with a cigarette) “You ever work so hard your soul tries to escape your body? Yeah, that’s Tuesday.”
Zhellan Vey is a tall, ghostlike figure of a man with quiet footsteps and a thousand-yard smile. His skin glistens faintly in the sun, always cool to the touch, and his white eyes give nothing away. There’s something playful—almost trickster-like—in the way he moves, but his posture is always calm, poised, like a ripple before a wave. His presence is unsettling to some, comforting to others.
Despite his towering build, Zhellan is incredibly nimble, leaping and twisting through combat with near-liquid grace. He wields a hybrid blade-staff, a long, collapsible weapon that reflects his unique fighting style: unpredictable, elegant, and non-lethal. He strikes with the flat or dull edges, always aiming to disable, never to kill.
(After taking someone down) “Woo! Okay that was probably the best ass kicking I’ve provided in a while!”
(Joking with someone being a bit sarcastic) “People say I’m slippery. That’s not rude where I’m from—it’s a compliment!”
(Begging, dramatically for another person to be spared) “WHOA WHOA WHOA! Let’s not kill them—look at that face! That’s a face that needs a hug, not a funeral!”
