The Characters and their location and status :
Connal Forbes : --> Location : Hopefully somewhere he can rest in peace.
--> Status : Dead, died at the hands of a soldier, who was in service of the Council.
Character's Full Name: Conall Forbes
Character's Date of Birth (month and day): February 31st
Character's Age: 35
Character's Gender: male
Character's Nationality: Asper
Character's Skin Colour: Caucasian
Eye Colour: Green
Hair Colour: Light Brown
Hair Length: Medium Short
Body Markings: None
Occupation: Innkeeper/Bartender
Interests: People, good stories
Style of Dress: Plain, uncolored wool
Likes: Good company, money, food & beer
Dislikes: Rude customers, fighting, cats
Fears: Horses
Prominent weaknesses: Racist, Horrible at combat (he’s a pacifist), He’s lived in the same house his entire life and doesn’t like the idea of moving or leaving his inn
Personality: Very friendly to anyone who isn’t from Lyrin or Saeron, very pacifistic and doesn’t like people fighting in his inn, Loves to listen to his customers stories ranging from adventures in far off lands to what they had for breakfast that day, Loves his wife and two sons
Appearance: He looks like this, but with this clothing and a broken nose and less dirt on his face.
Brief History:
“Me father once gave me the best advice I ever heard in me whole life. He said to me ‘Son, the best things in life are the simple things. If you can take pleasure from your daily life, then you can be a happier man than those kings up in them castles’ I live a simple life, and I wouldn’t have it any other way”
Conall Forbes
Born of Angus and Davina Forbes, Conall grew up in his father’s inn, surrounded by a lively but calm atmosphere that he would continue when he took over the inn after his father’s death, when Conell was 17. After a year of running the inn, Conall met Bonnie, who was 14 at the time. They were very close for another year, after which they were married and gave birth to their first son, Gavin. Two years later, Conall’s mother died. That was also the year that Conall and Bonnie had their second son, Ewan. Now, Conall is 35, Bonnie is 31, Gavin is 16, Ewan is 14, and Bonnie is expecting another child.
Dúrin Eriunderson Ulv : --> Location :Somehwere in the Northern Wastes.
--> Status : Alive and fine (need confirmation from owner)
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Character's Full Name: Dúrin Eriunderson Ulv
Character's Date of Birth (month and day): First of the fourth fullmoon.
Character's Age: 17
Character's Gender: Male.
Character's Nationality: Northern Wastes
Character's Skin Colour: White/Grey
Eye Colour: Grey.
Hair Colour: White.
Hair Length: Medium.
Body Markings: Lots of Norse looking Tattoos, covering his whole body. From top to toe. Most of them being red, animal blood with plant extract used for these.
Occupation: Shaman.
Interests: Well, he rarely retire himself to doing normal human hobbies. He is a shaman and what he does in his spare time is mostly to meditate, or hunt, set up camp and such necessary things.
Style of Dress: He is wearing a long piece of clothing made out of animal hide and fur on his chest also his arms and parts of his chest is covered by bark from trees, making him look like a tree almost. A huge buffalo skull covering his head as a helmet. Sleak hand made leather gloves. Leather pants and a pair of animal hide boots. Typical Northern Wastes clothes made for cold and bitter winter.
Likes: Meditation, calm, stillness, tea, nature.
Dislikes: Cities, stress, chaos, smoke, general civilization.
Appearance: He is broad shouldered. Very tall for a human. His skin is pale grey and his hair snow white. His body is not muscular at all but quite boney and slim. Also have grey eyes.
Fears: He is very weary about natural enemies such as wolves and bears. But he also knows what to do if he meets one. But he is most afraid of outsiders, trying to disturb his way of life and how his people live. That one day the Northern Wastes will become some smoke and machine filled super city.
Prominent weaknesses: He is quite fragile, he was never a fighter. But he rarely fights at all. Also he is easily disturbed while in meditation, and easy angered if you do this. He barely speaks a word as he thinks that communication to other human beings is quite ridiculous. He is not a good fighter at all and rather just stay away from any trouble.
Personality: He is very cold and silent to most who meet him, he seems quite mysterious as he does not talk or show any sign of being human. He is what they call a walking wilder beast. He is more attached to nature then to his fellow humans. But if you get under his shell and he begins to like you. He will talk and care about you like his own children.
Brief History: He was born in the Northern Wastes about 17 years ago. He always was a special child. He didn't play with other children and amazingly got along with animals more then humans. He had a normal and good up rising. His father was a hunter and his mother was a healer. What they later came to call a Shaman. He rather to stay home and learn from his mother then to go hunting with his father as a child. He always sought to go in his mothers footsteps rather then his fathers. And that he did. When he grew up he spent much of his time in the forest learning from his mother and learning himself about various herbs and things about the nature around him. And how to use it. He also found a dire wolf as a child, the mother of the little dire wolf had died and he found it half starved to death, he took it under his wing and raised the wolf as his own, and the dire wolf pup is still with him. He later when his father died, decided to leave the Northern Wastes. He had nothing there left for him, he needed to see other things then snow and death. He wanted to know how other people lived, and ticked.
Clarissa Longbow : --> Location : Travelling west in Vinngealos
--> Status : Alive, but lightly wounded. ( need confermation of the owner)
Character's Full Name: Clarissa Longbow (Bo for short)
Character's Date of Birth (month and day): Sometime in the early spring
Character's Age: Early 20s
Character's Gender: Female
Character's Nationality: Unknown, present location, traveling west in Vinngelaos
Character's Skin Colour: Pale
Eye Colour: Green
Hair Colour: Black
Hair Length: Short
Body Markings: Whipping scars on her back, thick scar front left shoulder from an arrow, several other scars from superficial cuts. She was branded on her right arm as a child with the slave merchant's trademark, but after she escaped she cut herself several times in an attempt to camouflage the mark.
Occupation: Drifter/vigilante/tracker
Interests:
Style of Dress: Men's clothes: wool and rough leather trousers, hemp shirt, belt, long cloak with deep hood, boots, armed with knives and a sword
Likes: sword training
Dislikes: thieves, greed, abuse of children and the weak
Fears: to be taken into slavery once again
Prominent weaknesses: blindly loyal, would be easily defeated by going through friends ( for the time being she has none)
Personality: Loyal to the death she would give her life for anyone she would become attached to, however she is very short tempered and ready to pull out a sword to anyone crossing her (don't call her a little girl)
Appearance: Above average height for a woman, very slim muscular body, fast runner and climber.
Brief History:
Stolen as a child by slave dealers she has no clear memories of where she is from or exactly how old she is, she was moved from city to city and back again for nearly ten years. Over the years she had escaped and was recaptured several times, but she never gave up. Five years ago she made yet another attempt at escaping, reaching a large village where she had hoped to hide out for a while. She had found work as a stable hand but one day she was working wearing only a vest in the summer heat and the greedy in keeper noticed her brand and sent a message to her *owner*, hoping for a big reward.
Three of the dealer’s men came for her and ambushed her in an alley; she was unharmed and knew she was doomed.
He came from nowhere, knocking one of the men down and tossing her his sword, together they quickly dealt with the other two. He took her hand and led her to the stables. “Do you have a horse” he asked. She shook her head. He mounted his horse and held his hand out for her to join him and she sat behind him. “Then we’re not going to add horse theft to your list of *crimes*. "They rode silently for a few hours, until they found a clearing to set camp in for the night.
Once they dismounted she could finally have a good look at her rescuer, he had a dark weathered face, and was possibly in his 30s or early 40s. “I’m Shocmon” he told her. He pointed at her brand, "you should hide that, I’m guessing that’s how they found you.” She looked down at the mark and nodded. “May I borrow one of your knives?” She asked, pointing and the elaborate holster strapped across his chest, He handed her one curiously, handle first. She looked down at it, it was gilded in gold and copper and bore the inscription *Lord Shocmon DeLaruce of Poltam*. A noble? Rescuing her? She would have thought a Lord would have been most likely to OWN a slave, not rescue one. Did he rescue her to have him for his own? But instinctively she trusted him, he was after all, handing him a weapon of his own free will.
She took a deep breath and made four shallow cut over the brand, tore a strip of cloth from her shirt and wrapped up the wound, wincing in pain. “It will be less noticeable this way” She said wiping the blade and returning it to him.
Having noticed her looking at the blade he explained the knives had been his fathers, he was Shocmon the second, his house had been overthrown when and his family’s noble title stripped away when his mother was with child. His father was murdered during the conflict. His mother saved the knives from pillagers and when her turned 14 gave them to him as his father’s legacy.
For four years they trekked the countryside together, he had become a father figure to her, she loved him as such and he as a daughter. He was the one who nicknamed her Bo.
Then the slave hunters came and one of them recognized her, she and Shocmon escaped but where both wounded in the attempt, she to the shoulder and he to the stomach, a fatal wound. They had found refuge in a cave down by the cliffs but he was growing weaker, she sat beside him, stroking his hair, tears streaming down her face.
He was grasping feebly at his harness. “T t take … them” he whispered. He reached up to her face, stroking a tear away with his thumb. “I love you, my … child” he said with his last breath, his hand falling limply at his side.
The knives had become her connection to the only person to have ever loved her, the only human bond she could remember. They meant the world to her.
For months she traveled alone, teaching herself sword fighting by secretly observing military exercises whenever she would encounter troops in her travels, until present day when Horath pulled her off that cliff
Roran Hawkins : --> Location :
--> Status : Alive and fine (need confirmation from owner)
Character's Full Name: Roran Hawkins
Character's Date of Birth (month and day): 3th of August
Character's Age: 20
Character's Gender: Male
Character's Nationality: Cavenin. The castle and loaned lands of his House are closely to the NorthWest of Verlin.
Character's Skin Colour: Fair
Eye Colour: Green
Hair Colour: Blond
Hair Length: Short to intermediate
Body Markings: None
Occupation: His duties and training as a knight.
Interests: Fighting skill, riding on his very well-trained horse Cadoc (A warhorse/Destrier with a dark-brown colour at the legs, with a lighter brown colour with a tint of orange/red on the rest of his body), weaponmastery, history, military tactics.
Style of Dress: Simle and practical, yet still nice enough to be presentable in court.
Likes: Honour, loyalty, strenght in arms, intelligence, practical people.
Dislikes: Unhonourable, disloyal, traitorous, lying, stupid people.
Fears: He has an excsessive fear of heights.
Prominent weaknesses: He's too idealistic at moments, and due to his excsessive training and lessons when he was young, he might have become a great warrior and tactician, but he lacks some expirience with other choses.
Personality: He's a very gentle and friendly person, even charming, but he's shy and very carefull with strangers. It's hard to earn his trust, but once he trusts you or accepts you as his friend, he blooms open. He is a natural talent with the sword, and exceptionalle skileld with other weapons, a great horseman and lancer, evenimptoved by his close bond with his trusted steed Cadoc. He is fairly intelligent and sharp, but is no genius either. He is yet to learn decent social skills, althugh he knozs hoz to handle most situations thanks to his education as leader and nobleman.
Appearance: He's very tall (1.93m) and athletically shaped, a fit young man.
Brief History: As the apparent heir of the prominent house of Hawkins, led by Tyvandor Hawkins, a severe yet pactical ruler, and a true military genius, he is trained as a knight and leader. He has talent for combat, and is a true natural talent. As such, the dutyfull weaponmaster in their homestead, a fortified village attached to a mighty castle, was under great stress of the responsibility to train Roran. A natural talent is hard to bloom fully, but he has done a great job.
The history of the House Hawkins stretches back to the Old Empire, where they were a proud family that supported the army, yes, lived for the army. They are said to have royal ties, when a bastard of the ancient king married the last successor of a house going exstinct, and formed the House Hawkins. This house has found enemies in the House Belentor, since Tyvandor had discovered Fredrik Belentor as a traitor.
Now with the war treatening their people once again, House Hawkins will lead their people to victory again. They hope.
Picture of Roran Hawkins:
The banner of the House Hawkins:
The crest of the House Hawkins:
Arathgar Sezthamor : --> Location :
--> Status : Alive and fine (need confirmation from owner)
Character's Full Name: Arathgar Sezthamor
Character's Date of Birth (month and day): June 17
Character's Age: 34
Character's Gender: Male
Character's Nationality: Northern Wastes
Character's Skin Colour: Caucausin
Eye Colour: Brown
Hair Colour: Brown
Hair Length: Short
Body Markings: Snake Tatoos wrapping all the the way up both his forarms(burned on)
Occupation: Hunter
Interests: Blacksmithing, What life ins like outside this hell hole, Hunting
Style of Dress: Fur Armor, Iron armor pieces(shoulders, boots, greaves
Likes: The Hobby of Blacksmithing and Merchatism, Hunting
Dislikes: Living here in the Northern Wastes
Fears: The outside world, but welcomes it.
Prominent weaknesses: Foriegn Objects( he doesnt know what they are), has a tendencies to accidentaly catchon fire, hates too much heat.
Personality: Friendly to people he know well, he is cold to foriegners, and is hostile to anything else.
Appearance: The Appearance Pics are attached,the first is his look, and the second is his Clothing. Just pucture the hair on the portrait to be brown. He is about 6 feet tall with a muscular build from hunting and trapping all the time, and his skin tone seem lighter than the usaul humans from being in the cold so long.
Brief History: I was born on June 17 in the Northern Wastes, my mother was a criminal here for murder, and was pregenant when they sent her. I don't know anything about my father, and she never mentioned him, but she only lived until i was the age of 5. She died of the freezing cold. I was then taken in by another criminal who hunted here to live, and lets say he did it out fo the kindness of his heart. He taught me to trap, use a bow, and fish if their were and pond not dried and frozen so thick that you couldn't break them with an axe, he taught me to make a fire, build a tent and tan leather. He also taught me how to use the weapon of the sword, but since their is no source of metals anywhere in this godforsaken land, we had to steal it from passing caravans, and that took forever seeing as they only passed here about twice a year. And we built our own forge, he then taught me how to blacksmith.
He alway wanted me to leave this place and now that im older I think will...
Julius Martino : --> Status : Alive and fine.
Character's Full Name: Julius Martino
Character's Date of Birth (month and day): March 25th
Character's Age: 23
Character's Gender: male
Character's Nationality: Vinngealos
Character's Skin Colour: lightly tanned
Eye Colour: deep blue
Hair Colour: blonde
Hair Length: short
Body Markings: none
Occupation: Noble
Interests: He’s interested in fine art. Paintings, music, even theatre.
Style of Dress: A studded leather vest (for protection) underneath purple and white silk robes, with gold trimming.
Likes: Money, Power, Control, the fine arts
Dislikes: Losing, getting his hands dirty, the Arianiti’s
Fears: The Arianiti’s overthrowing the council, death, and dogs.
Prominent weaknesses: cowardice, He doesn’t like doing his own dirty work
Personality: Julius is power hungry. He wants him and his family to one day rule Vinngealos, although he is extremely loyal to the council (Think of it like Starscream from the old 80’s transformers show) but he is also an immense coward and always wears armor to court meetings. He has a pet tiger he keeps in his estate.
Appearance: Clean shaven, slim, with very smooth skin.
Brief History: His family has a dark past with the Arianiti family. Some unrecorded conflict many generations ago created a tension and hatred between the two families. Julius feels like he must compete with Aedan, but not openly. Not until now. The Arianiti have started their little revolt, but the Martino family will be standing on the other side, keeping them at bay and the council in power. For now.
I'm going to pre-emptively confirm in case I forget to later.
Anthen : --> Status : Alive and fine ( need confirmation of owner)
SpoilerCharacter's Full Name: Anthen
Character's Date of Birth (month and day): Eigth of may.
Character's Age: 18
Character's Gender: male.
Character's Nationality: he's from a land not shown on the map, where every man aged 18 is sent away to do greater deeds because of overpopulation.
Character's Skin Colour: white, all be it a bit tanned.
Eye Colour: blue.
Hair Colour: blonde.
Hair Length: relatively short.
Body Markings: nothing noteworthy.
Occupation: traveller and ocasionally mercenary.
Interests: making money, politics, other people.
Style of Dress: he generally wears an adventurers equipment: a leather breastpiece with no sleeves, lots of straps all over and a backpack. He has his sword strapped to his back at waist-level, allowing for easy acces during a fight. He also has a dagger on his left shoulder. He has some sturdy leather vambraces and worn leather pants.
He also has leather winterboots.
Likes: travelling, talking to other people, doing jobs
Dislikes: having no jobs for quite some time, rival adventurers, noblemen/people in high places
Fears: has a phobia for horses, which makes it so that he always has to walk everywhere. Also slightly scared of dogs, but that depends on the breed.
Prominent weaknesses: different customs, always makes mistakes/screws up, so generally clumsy. Says the wrong things at the wrong times, etcetera.
Personality: a kind young man, who hasn't seen a lot of the world and therefore set out to change that. He is welcoming to all and is willing to help everyone - for a price.
He lives by his motto; see the invisible, do the impossible, break the unbreakable.
Appearance: he has relatively short hair, that reaches just above his right eye. It's generally spiky all over, seeming as if he always just woke up. Always has the same dumb expression on his face, although he is at a normal level on account of being smart.
Brief History: living in the Adhar continent is quite easy if you were born in the right year. However now that they have troubles with overpopulation and the inability to provide enough food, they send the mature ones to go on adventures in the name of Adhar, spreading it's name everywhere. Most make a pretty good name for themselves, since Adhar culture dictates you must be a good fighter to succeed in society. Anthen wishes to live up to these expectations and thus set out to Kanorth, a smaller region compared to Adhar, but host to many kingdoms who are willing to hire others to spill blood in their name.
Recently he suffered a stroke of bad luck, getting mugged in the Northern Wastes while travelling to Vinnegeal by a bunch of bandits, he has nearly no coin left and has thus far survived by doing the odd job and relying on the hospitality of others. However, every good must come to an end and the last person to take him in has kicked him out saying he ''was a gosh darn freeloader.''
With his last coin spent and only a sword on his back, he now has to choose; go back to Adhar, or try to stay alive by doing the more dangerous jobs.
Joan Estermont : --> Status : Alive and fine (need confirmation of owner)
Character's Full Name:
Joan Estermont
Character's Date of Birth (month and day):
First of August
Character's Age:
26
Character's Gender:
Female
Character's Nationality:
Cavenin, Cerath to be more specific.
Character's Skin Colour:
Slightly tanned/bronze
Eye Colour:
Steel grey
Hair Colour:
Pitch black
Hair Length:
Short, almost shoulder-lenght
Body Markings:
An ugly scar over her right ribcage
Occupation:
Lady of Cerath
Interests:
Anything that soothes her rather chaotic mind.
Style of Dress:
Nothing too fancy. Preferably wears something that is comfortable and cool because of the warm weather, like silk. She doesn't wear jewelry.
Likes:
Warm weather, rest and meditation. She often quickly meditates before a battle to keep her mind clear. Joan also loves white wine and date fruits.
Dislikes:
Cold weather, Saeroneans and red wine.
Fears:
The ruin of her island and humiliation.
Prominent weaknesses:
As said, Joan has a rather chaotic mind. She often needs to ease the stress and calm her nerves before doing important things.
Personality:
She's an ambitious woman, planning to retake the entire island and drive the Saeronean scum out of there. Joan has a strong will, and wants to accomplish things by herself, reluctant to request help from the mainland.
Though she doesn't like to receive help, she rather provides help - but does not let her own agenda cede for other people's plans.
Hospitality and kindness towards neutral and friendly strangers is a typical trait of the islanders that is also found with her; which goes together with the islanders' pride: they love bragging about the island like no other.
Joan is not very strong, which puts her in a disadvantage in a fight at first, but she has a great endurance and a swift footwork, which allows her to 'dance' around her opponent and poke him with her sword.
And at the last, Joan's knowledge of tactics comes from experience. She did not have any real education on that field, but learned those skills on the field of battle.
Appearance:
A lean, slender woman with long legs. She has a sharp nose and almond eyes.
Brief History:
She was the only child of Lord Matteo Estermont. War on the island was a common thing. Joan grew up in the war and learned to live with it. From a young age, she learned to fight with a sword, to ride and to throw javelins. The war had since long become more of a routine. Most of the time, skirmishes were fought, and very occasionally a real battle. The tides constantly shifted, and neither party ever had a real advantage over the other. The inhabitants of the island were left alone most of the time. Only rarely did it occur that a fishing village was raided, but valuable orchards, like olive orchards, were left alone. Both sides became comfortable old enemies.
The culture on the island was neither Saeronean nor Cavenin, but rather a unique mix between both.
When Joan was 18, her father got himself killed in a minor skirmish. She rapidly took control over her forces and went to war against the Saeroneans. Again, success was only very limited. Finally, after a couple of months, a real battle happened. She was outnumbered five to one, but managed to repulse and destroy most of the Saeronean army. Eventually though, the seemingly endless waves of Saeroneans broke her army, which routed the field. Joan was captured and brought to Iormo, where she was paraded through the streets, naked and chained. Joan was held captive for a year, but was finally released for ransom. Before her departure, she signed a truce that would last five years.
Joan used these five years to build up her army, strenghten it and filling her coffers for the following war. This time, she acted more cautious and only held skirmishes with the enemy, evading any larger army when possible. Though the tides of war are in her favour right now, she has not achieved a decisive breakthrough yet.
The House of Estermont:
The House of Estermont is a relative young one, dating back from the time the Old Empire collapsed. They captured the island under the banner of Cavenin. For their efforts, the Estermonts were granted Lordship over the island, and allowed to have a coat-of-arms. Years later, two brothers were to inherit their father's island. Thus the island was split into two parts, between the two brothers who hated eachother thoroughly. The youngest brother, who controlled the southern part, requested help from the Saeronean Sultan, who sent a massive host. However, the youngest brother was defeated in battle and killed. Subsequently, the Saeronean commander took control of the southern part of the island, gaining a strong foothold. Since then, the Estermonts have tried to retake their southern holdings, but have not succeeded yet.
Crest of House Estermont:
Spoiler
Melchom James Slayer : --> Status : Alive and fine (need confirmation of owner)
Character's Full Name: Melchom James Slayer
Character's Date of Birth (month and day): February 10
Character's Age: 35
Character's Gender: Male
Character's Nationality:Asper
Character's Skin Colour: White
Eye Colour: Black
Hair Colour: black and little white
Hair Length: Medium
Body Markings: Tatoos of Snakes on both arms.
Occupation: Noble,
Interests: To Get rid of the current King and replace him with himself.
Style of Dress: Black Armor complete with gloves and boots. Informal - Black shirt and pants
Likes: Torturing people ,Carnal pleasures , Money
Dislikes: Love, Weakness, Other Nobles, The King
Fears: Falling in love and becoming a slave to his emotions
Prominent weaknesses: Woman, He can not resist a woman charms and it has lead him to father children with woman he slept with.
Personality: Cruel and Manipulative. He is known to have convince a woman to take her own life when he told her that her husband hated her. He has also gotten people to kill his rivals by telling them that if they did they would be become rich. He then has them killed.
Appearance:
Brief History: Melchom grew up in a noble family. His father was one of the Royal family greatest supporters and supported it when the old empire fell and the family took control of the Kingdom. But the family was then betrayed when the Royal family went to pick nobles for top postions. Instead of picking The Slayer family. The Royal family picked others and disregarded their best supporter
It is this knowledge that drives Melchom to eliminate the Royal family and capture the Kingship for himself and his family. Even if he has to use the Kings Daughter in the process he will do it. But in the end his family will become the royal family..Even if he has to die to make that dream possible
Aedan Arianiti : --> Status : Alive and fine ( confirmed)
Character's Full Name: Aedan Arianiti
Character's Date of Birth (month and day): 26 may
Character's Age: 24
Character's Gender: Male
Character's Nationality: Vinngealos
Character's Skin Colour: Very slightly tinted, this is because Aedan likes to spend time's outdoor or traveling
Eye Colour: Brown
Hair Colour: Brown
Hair Length: Short.
Body Markings: A scar on his left cheek. He also has a long scar on his back.
Occupation: A Noble from Vinngealos, The Leader of the House of Arianiti.
Interests: Reading books, drinking and relaxing. Also likes to train and fight, but doesn't show it, because he doesn't want to drawn any attention to himself.
Style of Dress: Some nobles call it that he dresses himself to simple, like some member from the lower nobility.
Likes: Battles, drinking wine or beer, good company and to restore the House of Arianiti, to her former glory..And who knows? Maybe beyond that point?
Dislikes: Those who try to get on his good side, by saying bad things about others, but glorify themself. He also hate people who even say a single threat against his House or one of the peole he cares about.
Also hates to send brave men to die in vain.
Fears: He fears he won't be a good successor of his dad, nor a good exempale for his two younger brothers. He also fears spiders, the nasty litte buggers! He prefers to fight two tough opponents with only a spoon then to pick up a hairy spider.
Prominent weaknesses: Because of his pride and care for his House, he can be easily lose his temper. Also he cant stand it when he sees somebody suffering and can't help themselves.
Personality: He is a kind and noble person, once you know him. If you dont, he can appear to be quite a cold person, that doesn't care about you're problems. He also doesn't show his feelings to much, except for the ones he trust.
Appearance: His length is about 1.83m, has a good trained body and when he is in a truculent mood, he has a almost wolfish grin.
Brief History :
A young man who was raised up by only nobles and rich people. He studied at the academy of Vinnegeal.
He inherited the leadership of the Arianiti House, when his father died. He was only at years of 20 back then. His father died of a illness, wich the doctors couldn't find. On the deathbed of his father, his father told Aedan some secrets, secrets wich schocked the world of Aedan.
It seemed that his father was going to prepare a kind of revolt against the Council. Aedan was then given the secret contacts of his father and the rest of what his father said about that subject, has so far not left the lips of Aedan. Although he has showing rather odd behavior these times.
The House of Arianiti has always been rather strange, compared to the other noble Houses of Vinngealos. They are renown for having cunning leaders and good soldiers. They also have some good contact with some other noble houses in Cavenin, due honorable behavior and showing them respect.
However, this also made them a target for the Council, wich would rather see them fall then to grow further.
They may even succeed in their plans, cause the main branch of the House of Arianiti now have Aedan, his two younger brothers and his younger sister left.
It will be time to tell if the noble House will fall to it's knees or suceed the looming threats of the Council...A silent war is coming soon..
Elena Le Thorne
Character's Full Name: Elena Le Thorne
Character's Date of Birth (month and day): October 17
Character's Age:15
Character's Gender: female
Character's Nationality:
Asper
Character's Skin Colour: white
white
Eye Colour:
she has forest green eyes, with a hint of hazel.
Hair Colour:
pale blonde, almost like the colors of the stars, glowing at night.
Hair Length:
Down to her tail bone
Body Markings:
On her left leg on her thigh is a crescent moon shaped scar, from being hit by a arrow.
Occupation:
her mother is a seamstress and her father is a carver. They are divorced, She helps them out in both shops.
Interests:
archery
Style of Dress:
Riding pants, hunting boots, a cotton tee, and a cloak
Likes:
Archery, forests and exploring, animals.
Dislikes:
She's a bit shy, so it's hard for her to make friends, she hates being made fun of but most of all she hates Seth Mc Coy
Fears:
Will develop over RP but currently she is afraid of the guard, who keeps civilians out of the forest. (is that ok)
Prominent weaknesses:
friendship, cooking, one on one combat, will develop over RP
Personality: She's shy to others, and keeps quiet most of the time. She loves animals, hunting, exploring, and archery. But over all she's a wild card, and acts over the way the situation is played out.
Appearance:A tall girl with bright eyes, pale skin and blonde straight hair. She is often seen with her cloak over her head, hiding her face, her quiver of arrows slung over her right shoulder along with a small messenger bag that she keeps close at her side. She is never, ever seen without her bow. Her face and body shape resembles those of woodland elves, from story books. Tall, stunning and graceful in everything they do. Her face is slightly narrowed, and her ears are pointy... pixie like if you will. Over all she is a beautiful girl, yet to be "tamed"
Brief History:As a child she was always different from other girls, who loved dolls and china cups... and *shudder* teaparties. To her the greatest joy was freedom, and archery. She never wore a silly dress; if any dress at all. (well... dresses only on formal occasions) Her parents divorced when she was 7. Her father carved her a bow and arrow, to keep her mind off of her parents divorce and she loved it immediately. When she was 11 she found a small red fox, in the living room. It had wandered in from outside. She could tell that it was cold, and hurt and hungry... abandoned. She took it in immediately and it's been following her around ever since. She hunts, forbiddenly in the woods, to keep her family stable. The crescent moon shaped scar on her leg is from the man who guards the forest, shooting her when she went in.
Ja The Bastard : --> Status : Alive and fine.
Character's Full Name: Ja the Bastard
Character's Date of Birth: The Day the Hordes Came
Character's Age: Seven
Character's Gender: Male
Character's Nationality: Northern Wastes/Vinngealos Borderlands
Character's Skin Colour: Fair
Eye Colour: Dark Brown/Light Black
Hair Colour: Light Brown when he's seven-thirteen. Starts darkening at fourteen. Light black at fifteen.
Hair Length: Medium length/ as pictured
Body Markings: He has a tattoo of a dying mosquito sucking his blood on his back, it's wings encompass his shoulder blades and its body goes down to the middle of his spine.
Occupation: N/A
Interests:He is a child, he has no definite interests, only that which he sees and tries, and all he's seen is war, all he's tried is the sword.
Style of Dress: In the beginning, he wore nothing, he was a wild boy, and needed not the clothes of men, but when he is brought to the fort, he is given clothes. He wears nothing but the tunic seen in the first image.
Likes: He is a child, he knows not what he likes and what he likes not.
Dislikes:He is a child, he knows not what he likes and what he likes not. He knows not if he dislikes that which he fears or not.
Fears: the big men with shining silver sticks who come and kill and make the red stuff come out. The swirly whirly twirly stuff that dances out of dead mens mouths. The scary angry always stomp-the-groundy beasties that that the big men with shining silver sticks ride. The thingsies that don't make any senseies, like the whity-sometimes-going-murky stuffsy in the skyzy.
Prominent weaknesses: even for a child, he is hopelessly ignorant of the world around him, making him fear even the least dangerous of things. He knows not the language of men or beasts, managing to communicate only with some words and many hand gestures - which may seem aggressive to those who understand not. He knows not how to wield the sword or bow or the weapons of war. For even though he has grown up amongst them, he has rarely picked one up. These are some amongst his many weaknesses.
Personality: Curious by nature, fearful and slightly cowardly, even though sometimes his curiosity can be cause for him to ignore his fear and cowardliness. Soon after the battle which destroyed the fort being built by the barbarians, Ja also began seeing a strange man in armor with a black robe over it. This man is scaring Ja very much, but for some reason he thinks no one else can see him. Will develop through the RP
Brief History: What is there to say of a child speaks not and knows not the way of the world? A child who knows not that people have parents and that he had parents too? A child who thinks that all children are like him even though he's seen how different he is? There is nothing which can be said of such a child, one who remembers not yesterday, or today, and will not remember tomorrow.
Ja has always lived alone, ever since he could walked he has been alone, eating strange shrubs and insects, getting sick, surviving, being attacked by the big flying things that bite and go, and surviving. Had he not been whisked away to the fort when Ulv found him while collecting people, Ja would never have discovered that others like him exist. And even as he watched those others, they were like him and nothing like him, but he understood this not.
_________________________________
Then before Ja could know new ones like him better, the big men with shining silver sticks and the scary always stomp-the-groundy beasties came, and they made all the red stuff come out, and one wanted to make the red stuff come out of Ja too, but Ja ran away, Ja very fast, Ja not as fast as wolf man though, and Ja see wolf man when he come back and he do strange things, and Ja want to help but too scared. Ja just watch from hiding place, and he watch wolf man go then he run slowly after him. Ja scared of wolf, Ja not want to be wolf-dinner, so he stay hiding always, always hiding.
But then scary big hair man see him, and Ja run away, but scary big hair man always find him, and he have scary clothes, like the big men with shiny sticks, and he have shiny stick too, but he not make the red stuff come out of Ja, he just point and smile at places, and Ja learn to follow, always follow scary man, and scary man lead to Ulv.
Horath Evren Al'Montsar : --> Location :
--> Status : Alive, but gave both Aedan and Clarissa quite a schock.
Character's Full Name: Horath Evren Al'Montsar
Character's Date of Birth: The Third day of the Eighth Month
Character's Age: Two Decades
Character's Gender: Male
Character's Nationality: Vinngealos
Character's Skin Colour: Golden Beige
Eye Colour: Night Black
Hair Colour: Light Black/ Dark Grey
Hair Length: Medium Length/ Neck Length (As Pictured)
Plenty of minor scars on his chest and hands, a few on his arm. The most prominent one though is one long scar from his right shoulder down to beneath his left arm pit, where he was seriously injured by a band of brigands once while out on patrol with one of his comrades. (More detail in history)
Conscript in the Army, at the Rank of Captain (or Lieutenant if Captain is too high)
Art of War, Strategy, Tactics, History, Reading, Swordsmanship, Music- especially the flute, Horseback Riding (may add more later)
Before going on his first mission, Horath preferred to wear flowing robe-like clothes (as pictured) or baggy clothes which allow a lot of space for movement, he rarely wore armour, as he saw it as a hindrance. However, after being seriously injured, and having a near death experience, he came to realise the value of armour, now he never goes anywhere without having chain mail under his robes, he also has a leather breast plate, which he removes only when he is certain that he would not be attacked
Those who are Strong-Willed and have a well developed Sense of Morality. Victory. Strength and Intelligence. Music- Especially the Flute. Sparring with both the Sword and Tongue. Hearing Tales of Past Heroes, and of Valor shown in Battle by those he Leads and those he is Lead by. Discipline. A Worthy Rival. Seeing to it that even the poorest is living in Relative Prosperity. Fairness and Justice in all things, from the tiniest matter, to the largest.
The Grip which Corruption has on the Rulers of his Home Land. Cowardice. Lack of Morality. Defeat. Weakness. Treachery by those he Leads and those he is Lead by, and even those he Battles against. Seeing that even though he would like for the poorest person among his people to be living in Relative Prosperity, this is not the case. Injustice.
The Destruction of his People. That the Old Empire shall never rise once more. Death before he has lifted his people out of the weakness they are in. That he may not be as good or benevolent a leader as he would like to think he is should true responsibility fall upon his shoulders.
He expects too much, he thinks that everyone should stand up for justice no matter what, he expects everyone to have a strong moral code, he expects those who lead him to be the finest of men, and those he leads to be the bravest of souls. Sometimes his fears and doubts can overcome him, and he can become uncertain of how to act and what to do.
As much as he has tried, he has never been good at archery, or any type of ranged form of combat, even though he is better with rocks and javelins, it is not by much.
Horath Evren Al'Montsar is a relic of a lost age - an age which may have only ever existed in legend. He is an extremely idealistic man, and a perfectionist to an extent. He believes that all people - his people in particular - must strive to create, or recreate the Old Empire. However, he also believes they should strive to change the way things worked, that the class systems should not be a cause for anyone - rich or poor - to suffer. He strongly believes that what his nation needs is a good leader, one who knows what must be done, how to do it and why to do it. He also happens to think he's the right man for the job.
Horath has some strongly held beliefs on why his nation is collapsing, and one of those is the lack of love people have for their nation. People do not care for the well being of Vinngealos to the extent that its army is too small to even defend it properly, he believes that not forcing people to join the army would be a step forward for Vinngealos, and that once it was a choice rather than a command which could not be refused, more people would be willing to join, for the glory of the Old Empire, and it's coming rise.
Horaths idealistic perception of how society should be - and how he should be - adds to his ability to draw people to him, and many of his soldiers are usually in awe of the things he does, even if he is blind to their admiration of him, every little thing he does, every act of kindness or angry speech of disapproval for not acting correctly only increases respect for him, for to most of these people, such things have become foreign and unheard of, but they are instinctively drawn to them and cannot help but be enamored by such ideologies.
Horaths ambitions do not stop at rising to lead his people and returning the Old Empire, no, he plans to do much more, to unite his people - ALL his people, and bring them under one banner, to unite all the clans and sects and countries of Kanorth, create one nation, create one people.
Note: the word "brief" is deceiving you
Horath did not grow up in a rich family, he didn't grow up in a poor family either, his was a family rich enough not to be poor and poor enough not to be rich, one of those which hung on the brink of poverty, holding on only because of that one person who knew what to do. In Horaths case it was his father, Evren Trejik Al'Montsar. Evren worked as a weapon-smith in one of the poorer areas of Vinnegeal, one of the great cities of Vinngealos, had he not had six sons and three daughters to care for, the amount he earned would have been more than enough to feed him, his wife and another four children, but fate had not been kind to the youngest son of one of the lower noble families. After his father died, his three older brothers began fighting over who would inherit which piece of land, and in the struggle between the three, Evren found that he had no power or authority to claim the land which he had inherited and was rightfully his. So he left his ruined family and set out to search for his own destiny.
After being apprenticed to a weapon-smith (he refused to use any skills he'd learnt as a noble) and becoming quite proficient in the trade, he had his own smithy built in the poorer area of Vinnegeal, where there were no other smiths who could challenge him. And so he prospered, and even when he met the women he would go on to marry, life continued as normal. It was only after they'd had six children and age was beginning to catch up with him that Evren began to suffer financially. When his two older sons requested he teach them, for the betterment of the family and so they can learn a good trade, he refused, telling them that no son of his would be a smith, that they must - each one of them - find a trade greater than his was, and grow in the land, so that each and every one of his sons may help each other, and not fall prey to quarrels between siblings, and never let each other suffer poverty.
As for Evrens three daughters, they were raised by their mother who had more influence over them than their father, but nevertheless, Evren made each of his sons pledge to always help, care for, and protect their sisters from anyone, whether a thug on the street, or their own husbands when things finally got to that.
Horath was the youngest child, and even though both his father and mother loved him greatly, they never allowed their love for him to affect him too much, Evren had sworn that not a single one of his children would ever grow as a spoilt brat, no matter how much he wanted to dote on them and give them all they wanted. Instead, Evren taught Horath to read and write, and was more strict with him than he was with any of Horaths siblings. He made him read great tomes from a young age on history, politics, philosophy, war, swordsmanship, leadership, anything which could benefit him become high in this world. Even now, all the books and tomes which Evren had - which were the only items he took with him after leaving his family - are with Horath, handed down to him by his Evren in his will.
Under his fathers strict upbringing, Horath developed a good mind, showing he was more than capable of understanding complex ideas, but his father also made sure that Horath also grew up with a strong body, allowing him alone - out of all his children - to help in the smithy. For Horaths sake, Evren even broke the pledge he had made when he left his family: never to use any skill (other than reading and writing) he had learnt with his as a noble, for he taught Horath how to fight with a sword, and how to ride a horse, going that extra bit more to take him to one of the stables in the city, and renting a horse for training.
However, as well as Evren tried to bring his son up, he may have gone a bit too far in instilling in him idealism and perfectionism, for now he always expects from people what they may not be able to do, and can be a bit close-minded when it comes to dealing with people who have done wrong, forgiveness, even though his father tried to show him its importance, never did become one of his strong points.
By the age of eighteen, Horath was a fine young man; strong, intelligent, and with skills that called out for the army. Had he not been conscripted; he would probably have joined anyway. Evren showed neither approval nor disapproval for Horaths choice to stay on in the army and not bribe his way out, even though inside he was proud that his son had chosen this route, for it was indeed a route of power, a route - for those who were brave enough - which could lead to endless possibilities.
Horath was a toughened young man who could endure much - he had to be to keep up with his fathers pace in the smithy, but even so, the training of the army always left him completely exhausted, with no thought more prevalent than to rest. He was however, one of the luckier men, for he broke no bones and received no serious wounds, compared to others who lost their lives or became forever crippled, Horath could not help the sense of pride and accomplishment he felt.
At the age of a year less than two decades, he was sent out on patrol with Gardeel - one of the people he had become quite close friends with.
It was on this first patrol that he received the lethal blow, which cut him from right shoulder to just beneath his left arm pit. Gardeel and he were ambushed by a group of ten brigands, out to steal the armour and weapons of any soldiers passing by. Both Horath and Gardeel fought bravely, striking down three of the ten, Horath killing two and Gardeel killing one. But they were far outnumbered, even if there had been another two of them it would have been a lost battle. Horaths comrade fell dead to a blow from one of the bigger brigands, his throat ripped out by a savagely jagged blade. Horath charged at the huge man, only to be struck the deadly blow by the longer sword.
As Horath had no armour at the time, and his sword was not worthy of stealing, the brigands left him for dead, not even bothering to check if he was still breathing. They stripped Gardeel of his armour and took off with Horath and Gardeeks horses. Had he not been used to pain and enduring no matter what, and having a will to survive like none other, Horath would have died that day, but he managed to crawl and limp his way back to the fort he was stationed at, there he received medical attention and survived. It took a few months for them to allow him to go back to his duties, but when he did, he had a new coldness about him, he was a man who had come back from the dead, he had felt deaths icy fingers around his heart, he was not going to let it happen again, there was too much he needed to do, too much his father expected from him.
Evren Trejik Al'Montsar had died while Horath was recovering, leaving in his will for Horath, all his books and tomes - which had been delivered to Horaths quarters. It was after this saddening blow to his morale that Horath discovered the flute. The first time he heard it, he had been wallowing in misery, standing on the walls of the fort, contemplating life, death and the reason behind all this misery. That was when the soft sounds reached his ears, and touched his grieving heart. Outside, sitting beneath a tree, a figure - with nothing distinguishable but its long red hair - sat playing the flute.
Without sparing a thought for whether this was a trap or not, Horath ran down, opening the gates a crack and running out, he was afraid that maybe if he didn't run fast enough the apparition might disappear. When he arrived, she was still there - for it was a woman, the most beautiful he had ever seen. He stared at her for a long time, listening to the heart felt melody, and drinking in the beauty of this creature.
When she finally stopped, and opened her eyes, Horath was sat before her, a dreamy look in his eyes.
"That was beautiful" was the first thing he told her "just like you" was the second. This caused the womans fair skin tone to turn a slight pink.
"T-thank you" she stuttered, and her voice sent his heart flying.
"What is your name" he asked gingerly, at which she frowned slightly, then shook her head.
"I can't tell you" she whispered softly.
"Well you not tell a foolish boy the name of this beauty, this angel?" he asked, reaching out to hold her hands, at which she got up and scurried away giggling.
"Don't say that! Even if I did tell you my name, I can never be yours, I am promised to another" she walked away slowly, turning around when she reached a tree, to see Horaths expression of uncertainty, which was quickly replaced by one of determination.
"I care not what man you are promised to, you will be mine. THAT is a promise." he said it with fire in his eyes, and a truthfulness she could almost taste.
"Hmm" she walked towards him, a slight smile on her face "it is a promise then" she looked at the flute in her hand, then held it out to him.
"Your..." he looked at it for a while "what is it?" he asked, realising that he didn't know what it was.
"It's a flute silly" she giggled "an instrument which plays the most beautiful music." Horath looked at it.
"You're giving it to me?" he questioned, uncertainty back in his eyes.
"No silly, I'm letting you borrow it" she smiled sweetly as he took it "you have to give it back to me when you fulfill your promise, okay?" with that she turned around and ran back to the tree, turning to look at him one last time.
"Yes! I'll give it back to you when I've fulfilled my promise...and that's a promise!" with that she gave him one last heart stopping smile, and she disappeared. He looked down at the flute, and upon it, carved into the wood in intricate writing, was Relnora Jarod Farosa.
"Relnora Jarod Farosa" he murmured to himself.
It's been a few months since then, Horath hasn't seen Relnora since then, she stalks his every waking moment and haunts his dreams in every moment of sleep, he sometimes wonders if she was indeed nothing but an apparition, but the flute leaves no doubt that she was as real as air he breathed.
He has been in many more patrols since then, and one major battle where Horaths company charged the hideout of the same bandits who had scarred him. The leader of Horaths company was killed by that same huge man who had killed Gardeel. Horath rose up to fill the gap left by the captain without realising, leading the charge which crippled the bandits, and killing the razor-sword wielding man by himself. With their leader down, the rest of the bandits soon surrendered, and both Hirath and the company returned victorious to the fort. After hearing of his heroic victory, word came down from above that Horath would now be the new Captain of the Company.
Since then he's had a few more skirmishes with bandits and rebels, and a little battle over a border dispute with a rogue captain from Cavenin.









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. He is about 6 feet tall with a muscular build from hunting and trapping all the time, and his skin tone seem lighter than the usaul humans from being in the cold so long.





