For years, there has been tension on the border between Renalta and Liveria. Edmundal and Pennwic, respectively were two towns on this border where the possibility of conflict constantly cast it's shadow over the civilians. The lord of Pennwic desired the farmlands of Edmundal, and because of his greater wealth, he had greater military power and pushed forth into Renaltan territory. Edmundal could not fight on equal footing with it's Liverian rivals. At least, not traditionally.

Enter Cynbel Boudica, a young man known as one of many urchins in the streets of Edmundal. Cynbel had lost his parents to the conflict between his hometown and Pennwic. As Edmundal grew more desperate, Cynbel sought to experiment with his birth-gift; that of magic. Although he had received minimal training, Cynbel was prepared to risk his body and mind to turn the tide. He studied golemancy from books and scrolls he'd stolen from a passing merchant. He'd study them deep into the night, and in spite of many experiments having blown up in his face, the (now charred) hands of Cynbel created his first golem after a mere two months. Although it was but an inch tall, this would spell the beginning of a new resistance.

While he had used the souls of small animals for his first experiments, to create a golem that could be deployed in combat Cynbel required souls of something larger and smarter than alley-cats. Human experimentation, however, was outlawed. When Cynbel presented his designs to the court, he was denounced as wicked and locked away. However, one of the Edmundal lord's sons saw potential in Cynbel. Even imprisoned, this son saw to it Cynbel had materials to experiment further as well as access to prisoners of war and covered for Cynbel in order to not cast suspicion on him.

When Cynbel created his first golem fueled by a human soul, he was brought back to demonstrate it's power. The golem was stronger and more resilient than any of the lord's men, and as their battle was a losing one, the lord gave in to desperation and allowed Cynbel to pursue his research and the creation of more warmachines. Under the condition his work was kept underground.

Thanks to the golems, Edmundal gained the upper hand. They drove Pennwic from their lands. However, it did not end there. Edmundal gave pursuit and many skirmishes were fought until Pennwic surrendered. Edmundal demanded a portion of Pennwic's lands to pay for it's damages, which it received. The population was exalted, as not only had they extracted their revenge; their market had conquered the share of a competitor. Wealth laid in prospect and all the credit for it went to the lord. Cynbel's involvement was forever kept a secret to the general populace.

Perhaps this was for the best for everyone. The civilians knew too little about magic to suspect the true nature of golemancy. Not only had prisoners of war been used to fuel their victory, they had picked urchins off the streets and used fatally wounded soldiers from their very own army. It was the darkest secret Edmundal had ever had, and the name Cynbel Boudica faded into obscurity.

As time passed and the heroes of Renalta returned and reformed the kingdom, the lord of Edmundal did not fit in the queens their new vision. He was replaced by his son, adourned Wulfric the second, who did remember who they owed the war to. He searched for Cynbel to bestow upon him the honour of knight, but to the young lord's surprise, Cynbel was nowhere to be found.

Having died to the wounds of his experiments, what was left of Cynbel's legacy were a widow and a daughter. Lord Wulfric, indebted to the man, took both women in his care and made them part of his household. The girl, Esyllt, was treated as one of the lord's very own daughters. In her father's place, she was taught the ways of a knight and received the title to accompany her training. However this was but the beginning young Esyllt's journey.

When she was taken in, the then thirteen year old girl was quickly discovered to have peculiar gifts. She could occasionally foresee the future and telepathically share her thoughts with others. This lead the Wulfric to recognise she had inherited her father's talents and he assigned sages to teach her to wield her gift. Esyllt's life was filled with training in various disciplines; her divination, telepathy, golemancy and swordsmanship were all to unfold, and additionally she was taught etiquette, the harp, the managing of a household, and many more skills that would be expected from a noblewoman. Esyllt studied obediently, thankful for the kindness of lord Wulfric and remembering the alternative of having lived in the slums with her mother, had the lord not found them.

When Esyllt turned sixteen years of age, lord Wulfric deemed her old enough to learn the truth about her father and her gift. When she learned of the inhumane her father had practiced before her, Esyllt began to develop a duality towards her gifts. She continued her studies, struggling to learn how to extract souls and deploy puppets. At her twenty-first, she was knighted and finally became independent. Although Wulfric had much more knowledge to offer her, Esyllt decided she had to put her mind at ease.

The new knight put her skills to the test. She took her duty of protection her lord and the civilians very seriously and joined squads that defended settlements from beasts and bandits. Being able to be of assistance without relying on her forbidden gift, Esyllt became much more at ease. She had even planned to return to Wulfric's side to continue her studies in the arcane. However it would not be, as the Queens of Renalta had sent word of an invasion... And requested Edmundal's help.

Edmundal had forged great relationships with the royal family and as a token of that, Wulfric dispatched many of his knights to join the Queen's blades. Including his own sons and Esyllt. Along with her fellow knights, Esyllt swore an oath the the queens and their ideals, and so signed to fight for not only the sake of Edmundal, but for that of all Renalta. Perhaps even the world...

Biographical Section

Name: Alicia Le’roux

Age: Alicia appears to be in her twenties, but is at least a decade older than that.

Race: Human

Sex: Female

Homeland:-Kingdom of Liveria: Liveria is a single city-state with self-sustaining farmlands. They are isolationist in nature and their ruler, Crown-Prince Xavier, rejected the idea of folding into the greater Renaltan kingdom due to conflicting ideologies. Where Liveria wants to be left alone, Renalta wants to swing open its doors. This has led to some friction between the two kingdoms at points, with Liveria claiming total control over the only coastline Renalta could feasible use.

Liveria is small but determined, and their people tend to be either commoners who work for the rich, or the rich who pay tariffs and taxes to the royalty, whom in turn use said taxes and tariffs to ensure their isolationism remains intact.

Unlike Renalta’s open city architecture, Liveria as a city holds are more gothic architecture, with stone gargoyles and dark stone used in construction one could almost be forgiven for confusing the keep for a citadel of engineering genius. Almost.

History: Alicia was born the only child of the noble house Le’Roux: a recently risen upper-class family that made its fortunes in the Silk trade. Shortly after her birth, Alicia’s mother died and, to his credit, her father entered a stage of mourning that lasted the rest of his life.

Alicia and her father were very close, as she represented the last remnants of a beloved wife, gone; as well as the only heir to a recently risen house. As such, she was spoilt beyond repair as the ‘Le’Roux Princess.’ She received tutoring from a great many wise teachers and was taught the prime lessons that any noble should learn: etiquette and poise and talking with other nobles and, perhaps her favourite lesson, the art of combat and courtly duelling.

Sometime in her teenage years, a man approached Alicia’s father and caused a fierce argument that shook the household. The man was escorted off the grounds, only to return the next day, and so on, so forth. To the young Alicia, it was a very confusing time but after a dozen attempts, Alicia’s father relented, and introduced her to Jacque: a man that would play a very important role in Alicia’s life.

When she was 22 years old, the gods were made to fall. Everything changed and suddenly, Liveria isolated itself from the world. It was during this period of tremendous turmoil that Alicia’s father passed away. The young noble woman inherited the house, and most predicted it would fall within weeks.

It didn’t. Alicia seemed to relish in her role as the house’s matriarch. It seemed that being led by a new, beautiful and competent young woman attracted both the adoration of her workers, who increased efficiency twice over, and the attention of courtly investors, hoping to get their hands on a very desirable part of the Liverian court.

It was at this point that Alicia turned to vampirism. She recalled her father’s dying words and remembered his call to ‘live on forever.’ She took the meaning literally, as she feared both her own mortality and succumbing to age and entropy. She managed to find a Liverian vampire and paid the monster to turn her.

Alicia woke a few hours later, on the floor and being shaken awake by Jacque, her manservant. There was a worried hysteria on his face, and Alicia feared she would have to kill the man as he might discover what she’d become. In truth, he embraced her: tears in the manservant’s eyes that Alicia could not explain. Alicia could not place where this strange loyalty had developed, but it had: and Jacque offered his blood. She accepted, despite the confusing loyalty the man showed and continues to show to this day.

For the next decade, Alicia lived a comfortable life in the Liverian courts. Her silk farm continued to produce and her goods were sold by trade ships that frequented the Liverian coast. The only issue came when one of the Crown-prince’s agents approached her, and demanded she seek an audience with Xavier himself.

The rest, as they say, is history.

Motivation: “Well, what can I say. My arm is twisted by a Crown-Prince of a country that deplores my kind. If I fail to comply, I will at best be destitute and at worst, decapitated. Still, it could be worse: fighting demons and parading around the continent does sound rather appealing.”

Traits & Equipment

General Traits

• Slippery-

- You are fully aware of what happens if that war hammer the size of a small child hits you square on the chin. You’ve decided to make it a priority to learn how to never let that happen, and while you’re still learning, you understand at least enough to jump back from a blow before it takes off your head. (Basics of dodging and evasion.)
--Dodge! (Rank 2): As you've refined your instincts, your ability to avoid harm has also grown, and as such whenever an enemy swings at you, there's a solid chance you've already figured out not to be there by the time the swing would connect. (Dodging is quicker and no longer forces your character onto the defensive, and can occur even if your character is caught off guard.)


• Charger
-Something a lot of people don’t seem to realize is that the more muscles you have, the faster you are. Sure, perhaps not dexterous, but certainly faster. While you have only begun to learn the true meaning of land speed and would still be caught and killed by a tiger, you are capable of a short distance charge that can knock opponents down and catch the unwary by surprise. (Basics of dashing quickly and charging into opponents.)


• Rapid Blows
- Sometimes, it’s just better to hit something several times in quick succession, instead of trying to hit something really, really hard, and you understand this. Though you aren’t too good at hitting specifically vital points with it yet, or keeping it up for very long. (Basics of attacking rapidly in an effective manner.)


• Sharp
- You’ve started to notice how certain people stand, and how others try to keep certain parts of themselves out of harm’s way, or try to cover up certain not-so-good looking pieces of armour. Given more time, you could manifest this into a real talent for assassinating even the most armoured of targets. (Basics of weakness-finding and lie detecting)

Unique Traits
-Fearing the ravages of old age, Alicia sought out something most people deem a curse. She decided that she’d prefer to face eternity as a monstrous beauty, as opposed to being an aging hag who will die when she is useless.
Effect: High bonus to speed and charm, lower bonus to strength and a passive regeneration bonus. These effects are null if exposed to sunlight and any prolonged exposure can rapidly become lethal. Due to being a vampire, blood is required as sustenance, and without it, Alicia would wither away and die.


-While most of her adult life was spent wowing the nobles of Liveria’s court with fancy displays of showy swordsmanship, it proved a poor show for the fields of combat. Following her less than satisfactory efforts on the field, Alicia has rededicated herself to training, and has found and hammered out several flaws in her form: sharpening her skills as much as the tip of her blade. She maintains the skill developed in the court, she has simply expanded them.
Effect: A bonus to Alicia’s offencive capabilities, especially her Slippery and Quick blows stats that is increased even further in one-on-one fights.


-Most of Alicia’s involvement in Liverian culture focuses around the aspect of courts, nobles and balls. Alicia may have spent more of her learning time in the training grounds, she was schooled and prepped for both leading her family silk empire and attending and entertaining nobles. These skills continue to serve her, although the Le’roux silk empire is the least of her issues.
Effect: Alicia gains a bonus when it comes to converting NPCs to Contacts, and she can offer a limited number of contacts the chance to become Thralls. Contacts must be willing and Alicia can only maintain a limited number of Thralls at a time.

Achievements:
--Purple Ribbon: You took a hit for Queen and Country, and have learned how to better handle pain. (Minor bonus to dealing with damage, less likely to fall into shock or succumb to injuries.)
--Counter Strike: You've found that dueling is more effective when you use your dexterity to attack something after it has attempted to hit you. (Minor bonus to hit chance and armour penetration, if countering an attack with another attack.)

Equipment List[list]

Several sets of courtly dresses

A set of ‘casual’ travel wear

A set of leather armour: a jerkin, leather trousers reinforced with iron plat sown into the fabric, a pair of leather studded gloves and a pair of boots.

Two rapiers, one made of cold steel and one made of Silver. Both polished and maintained to a sharp, deadly precision.

A parasol

A single unremarkable servant named Jacque. His function seems to be to maintain Alicia’s equipment when she is away and to make sure the sun never becomes a bother in his presence.

Personal Section

Romance: As Alicia’s creator, I see no issue with the concept of sexing up my character.
Does the Kouri Plushie exist?: It simultaneously exists and doesn’t exist.

Signature: I, LimeyPanda, hereby give permission to have Alicia violently murdered should my stupidity warrant her execution or should Nuffle snuff out her life. Praise be to Nuffle, and his champions, the GMs.

Biographical Section

Name: Sarath Gideon
Age: 28
Race: Human
Sex: Female
Appearance: Outside of the armoured shell. Sarath is a dark skinned beauty that exemplifies the Amazonian people: strong in form and in beauty, she presents a physically attractive visage that has often left people wondering why she hides behind several inches of steel in battle. Her hair is an unkempt, ebony mess and she eyes of deep crimson.

In her armour, Sarath is an imposing juggernaut of steel and fury. The armour is a finely crafted suit of armour that is atypical of amazon craft, presenting the visage of a featureless bull-horned female. The armour is pristine and unscarred, presenting obvious signs of great care having been taken in the maintenance and preservation of the suit of armour. Clearly, it means something of great importance to the woman.
Homeland: The Amazons: Pending update.

History: Sarath was born the daughter of an Amazonian huntress and a male non-amazonian warrior. The fact that her father was a warrior already marked the Gideon family as unusual, but inside their home it was seen as the most normal and natural thing. Sarath didn’t care and her mother was deeply and passionately in love, so she didn’t care much either.

Yet when Sarath was six years old, the nay-sayers of the Amazonians were proven somewhat right when her father seemingly vanished without a trace. It left the Gideon women devastated and saw Sarath’s mother sick for months due to sadness and loneliness. The communion of the Amazonian tribes was what kept the pair afloat in such troubled times, when other nations would have abandoned them.

Sarath grew into a fine woman after that early tragedy in her life. Her mother recovered after nearly twelve months of sickness, and the two frequently went on hunts together and fought both alongside and against each other. The bond between mother and daughter proved insurmountable, despite the fact that Sarath was a painful reminder of the man who was gone.

Upon her sixteenth birthday, after Sarath was officially recognised as an adult, her mother told Sarath the truth about her father: how the man left to resolve an issue that had plagued him since before husband and wife even met. Apparently a rival had dishonoured Sarath’s father and left him for dead on the outskirts of the Amazonian forest, where Sarath’s mother found him and nursed him back to health. Sarath’s father left because he was compelled to seek some sort of revenge on his rival, and never came back: which led Sarath’s mother to assume the worst and led to the illness that nearly killed her.

After telling Sarath the tale of her father, Sarath’s mother also presented a present to her daughter: the armour that Sarath’s father had worn the day he was found. There was a huge gouge in the armour’s back, which made it nigh-unwearable, but still Sarath took the armour with pride.

In secret, Sarath took the armour to the nearest blacksmith and asked her about having it fixed. The blacksmith told her it was impossible, but did inform her that she could re-forge it with enough time. Sarath agreed, and helped with the process of re-forging, which she hid from her mother by agreeing to work as the Blacksmith’s apprentice.

She worked as the smith’s apprentice for a number of years, and rapidly developed as a craftsman. A number of times, the smith asked if she could convince Sarath to become a smith full time, but each time Sarath avoided the subject. She had other plans for herself, after all.

As she developed as a smith, so too did the armour. It took shape and seemed to gain a personality as Sarath poured more of her time and her soul into the suit of armour. What was once a bland piece of steel work was layers of shaped and moulded steel with a visage and a purpose. It fit Sarath like a glove and after Ten years as a blacksmith’s apprentice, Sarath wore the armour proudly in front of her mother for the first time.

She announced then to her mother her intentions to find her father and leave the Amazon tribe for a time. The mother was at first opposed to the idea, but eventually she decided on letting her daughter go about her desires, seemingly relenting to the offspring of the lost love. Sarath spoke about her conviction and how she seemed certain that her father was still alive somewhere, even if her instinct was without evidence or merit.

So at the age of 26, Sarath left the Amazonians and began to roam around the world in search of her father. She had only a drawn picture and childhood memories to guide her, but she was sure that she would find him eventually. She wrote to her mother often, to make sure her mother knew that she remained safe.

After two years of exploring the realms, having earned herself a reputation as a wanderer and a fighter, she first heard of the Queen’s Blades, and thought that her father might also flock to such noble intentions. With no other lead, she made her way to Renalta,

Motivation: Sarath is free-spirited and honest, but she is also deeply driven. She holds a dozen different desires in her head: and the one feature that each little driving motivation shares is that the world is not overrun by demons. The Queen’s Blades present an obvious way to keeping her ambitions alive, while also having a good chance of ticking the checklist of dreams.

Traits & Equipment

General Traits

--Heavy Hitter: Where some would resort to flailing their arms about in an unsophisticated manner, you’ve decided that if you can hit something hard enough the first time that it stays down, that you can end fights before they can even really begin. Though, you’re still working on that “consistent” part, and not slowing down when you swing harder than usual. In the case of a ranged weapon, it means a larger calibre firearm or larger bow, translating to greater recoil and/or slower fire rate instead. (Basics of doing more damage with each swing.)
--Defender: You could take more hits to the face and become an unrecognizable, horrible mutilated piece of scar tissue on one and a half legs... Or, you’ve mused, you could probably just stop that by holding a shield and your armour correctly. This lets you absorb harder blows with your shield and armour. (Basics of wielding shields and armour (especially heavy armour) effectively.)
--Endurance Training: After training out in the field for hours and hours on ending, you have come to realize the value of being able to simply last longer than your opponent. This translates into taking a couple more hits before you will go down, and having a higher tolerance to pain... Though, getting hit still hurts, quite a bit actually, and you’re no god. (Basics of taking more damage and resisting pain-related negative effects.)

Unique Traits

--Bloodletting: Sarath is most alive in the violent throngs of combat. As blood is spilled, be it hers, her allies or her enemies, she becomes revitalised and more powerful, to a limit. (Sarath gains a flat bonus to Heavy Hitter and Endurance for every bleeding wound within scent range. This bonus is doubled if the wound was inflicted by Sarath herself. The bonus caps after a while, as Sarath’s body would struggle under the strain after a time.)
--Blacksmith Apprentice: Sarath spent 10 years of her life in service to an Amazonian Blacksmith, as payment for reparations of her father's armour. The skills she developed in the time as an apprentice were many fold, and are transferable both in and out of combat. (Sarath has innate knowledge about the workings of armour and weapons, she also has knowledge of their structural weaknesses. She can apply this knowledge of weaknesses in combat, either to protect her own armour's weak spots or to make use of the weakspots of her enemies weapons/armour.)

Equipment List
The armour of her father
An axe-headed polearm
A round steel shield
A short sword
A backpack full of clothing and other such niceties
A small pouch of coins that attaches to her belt
A viper-fang necklace, given to her by her mother

Personal Section

Romance: Bow-chika-bow-wow
Does the Kouri Plushie exist?: Sure, why not.

Signature: I, LimeyPanda, being of sound body and mind: hereby give permission for Sarath Gideon to be maimed, killed or abused by devils, man or beast be it my fault, my team mates fault or Vlad’s fault…stupid bloody camo…

Light from the noon sun permeated the thin cloth curtains and filled the room with a dim ambient glow. Old rickety boards covered the floor and shrieked with each step, and all around furniture was pushed against the walls of the decrypted house. The room smelled of mold and stale air and a young man sat squarely in a chair, with his elbows on his knees and his chin resting on his clasped hands. He wore a white, long sleeved, cotton shirt which was tucked into his pale brown trousers; he smelled like the ocean breeze.

"It's been a long time," he said slowly, exhaling as if a weight had been lifted from his chest.

"Too long," a weary voice replied. It came from a woman, middle-aged but with skin weathered long beyond her years. Her eyes had sunken into her skull and dark rings surrounding them, and her cheeks were concave and all throughout her face her bony structure revealed itself. She lay sickly skeleton on the bed.

He could feel her eyes on him, but he kept his own gaze fixated on the floor. This isn't how he imagined a reunion. He had hoped to find his father here, but instead found his mother sickly and frail.

"You were such a sweet boy. Mischievous and impossible to handle, but sweet." He felt her hand run through his hair. "You take after your father."

"Except I don't have a family to beat," he replied sharply, looking up to her as he said so, but her eyes were on the ceiling now and she either didn't hear the comment or had tuned it out. She had always protected him, his father. The man could beat her to an inch of her life but could do no wrong.

"When we first married he would take me to the sea. We would stay on the water for days with only each other to keep company. I remember the sun, the warm ocean air and turquoise waters rocking the ship," she said to herself, her eyes glazed over and staring blankly to some image she had conjured in her mind.

Mars began a word but stopped and kept quiet. He thought of spitting on his father's memory, but his mothers fragile nature dissuaded him. His old man had apparently been lost to the sea some years prior.

"Sounds nice."

"When you ran away, we heard word you had left with a trader. Boarded the ship and never came back"

"I did."

"Tell me about it."

"I slipped out my window and ran to the docks. Elijah Morrison, do you remember him? He was about to set sail but was short and looking for more hands. I offered him mine and we left."

Her eyes finally broke away from the ceiling and turned to match his own. She had always had beautiful blue eyes, but now they looked distant and hollow. She spoke, "No, tell me about from then to now."

Mars sighed and leaned back in his chair, resting his hands on his thighs, "Well, first we sailed south, to Rheinfield. At the time, I thought it was so exotic. Grass so green you'd think they had painted every blade, and the churches there were so grand you could look up, and I swear they disappeared into the clouds. They had stained glass with imagery so ornate I thought them kings to afford such novelty."

She was listening intently.

"It was such an experience, but looking back it was all hardly exotic. After a length of time trading between Tuleria, Rheinfeld and Liveria, we set sail across the ocean. I remember looking at the map with Elijah and asking where we were sailing to. He pointed to some half drawn scribbles a world away, land so unknown he actually couldn't find a map of it in all of Rheinfield." Mars chuckled to himself.

"We sailed for weeks and through storms so fierce we thought the gods themselves had condemned us. Great waves ripped over the rails and tossed our ship like a child tosses a toy. I tell you I had never been so certain of death as I was in my first storm."

Mars' voice gradually quickened with excitement, "Lightning cracked around us and the decks were soaked with seawater and piss -- we were all scared. Elijah though, he clung to the edge of the bow and shouted to the gods 'Kill me! I dare you! My spirit will fuck your shrines!'" Mars said shaking his fist as Elijah had done, a smile on his face. Then he stood and began to pace the room.

"Well we pulled through, and when the storms had cleared, we found ourselves off the coast of Nimera. A land of desert much like or own, but I swear the water there was so blue and crystalline you could see the ocean floor as if you were looking through glass. Great fish swam and the ocean floor was covered in a colorful kind of smooth rock; the kind noble ladies pay a great deal for here in our country. The people there too! They had porous skin and spoke of how their ancestors had been able to breathe in the water as surely as they now breathed on land! I had never seen people so Bizarre. We gave them all the commodities of our lands, Iron and Emberstone and in return they gave us riches: Smoothstone and Pearls. Of course the entire time we were racing against the competition, other sailors who were trying to carve out a fortune. Elijah taught me how to handle them civilly and avoid conflict."

By holding them up.

"But every now and then some of them didn't want to cooperate, and just wanted conflict."

So we killed them.

"Well, during all this we sailed along the coast and watched the sands turn to savannah, and there we traded seeds and gold for Jade and Ivory. We sailed further and traded for silks, perfumes and spices, further still we came to the biggest city I had ever seen! Great walls enclosed the bay made of stone so white it burnt the eyes when it caught the sun. There they made what Elijah called white gold, and they molded vases and plates out of it. Lords and Ladies from half the world over paid a small fortune for but a chest load of it all."

Mars chuckled to himself, "Later we discovered the white gold was crafted from heated clay, and they had such an abundance of it they might as well shit all over it for as common as it was. Wouldn't that be a site! Selling shit stained dinnerware to a fat noble lord.

We were never in any rush to come home. For all the stories of savages the world over, you'd be surprised how hospitable most of them were. We stayed at a single village once for nine months. Eventually though, It was time to leave, and after our ship was nice and stuffed Elijah spent some days studying the stars until he was convinced he knew how to get home. You see, you can use a contraption called a Sextant, and wh-"

Mars stopped once it became evident his tangent was only confusing his mother. "Well we sailed home," he began with a sigh, "but a month or two into the journey pirates happened across us. They boarded and we fought and somehow by the grace of the gods we won, but Elijah had been killed by a crossbow bolt through the chest."

"I wish you didn't tell me that. I don't want to know about the violence."

The room was quiet. But soon curiosity got the better of her, "What did you do when your captain died?"

"Well, we discussed who should be his successor. The first mate, was mean enough but was hardly more of a sailor then a child whose never seen the ocean. Of course every man wanted himself for captain, myself included."

"Mean enough? You were traders."

"Rambunctious traders."

"Well who did you decide on?"

"No one. We all drew swords," he lowered his voice and spoke coolly.

"Greed got to our heads."

"Mars, that's horrible, what happened next? Was anyone killed?"

"No one was wounded."

But people were killed, Mars added with a thought, trying to circumnavigate questions with half true answers.

"And it was horrible," Mars took his seat back in front of his mother. "A man named Lendin Shrine eventually took control, him and his supporters. After they outnumbered the rest of us they gave us all the option to jump to the water or be branded Pirates as mutineers."

Mars pulled off his left glove, revealed a P burnt into the flesh, "Some swam. In the end it didn't matter."

"You're not a pirate though," His mother said, coming across as more a question than a statement. "Why didn't it matter?"

"They loaded us onto the pirate vessel and chained us together to the mast. Then lit the whole ship on fire and sailed merrily away. They left a handful of weapons among the lot of us so we could die like men."

"My gods.... how did you escape?"

" We broke the chains with our weapons and sailed a lifeboat away."

The chains were too strong to break, and we panicked. Someone starting sawing someone elses foot off, then eventually we all started killing each other until I was the last left, I sawed off their feet as the ship burnt to the water, then clung to a piece of driftwood for nine days with only a canteen to keep me alive. Eventually I saw land, and by the grace of the gods was washed ashore with a throng of empty shackles tugging at my ankle.

"When we were home, I decided I ought to make amends with my family," Mars said as he stared at his mother with cold eyes. He could scarcely believe she was his mother at all as frail as she looked. Other than that, his lifetime away from her had left him with such a disconnect that only the mental reminder that she was indeed his mother kept him grounded with her.

She was quiet for a moment, letting it all sink in. Finally, she said, "We've all made mistakes. What are you going to do now?"

"Well," he began, "I suppose I'm going to stay to look after you until your health is back."

Until you pass away.

"After that, well I heard the Renaltan queen is recruiting anyone who can handle themselves. I also heard they're paying fairly well. Maybe I'll save money the money. I don't feel like sailing again for some time."

Until I can buy a ship to hunt Lendin and skewer him like the dog he is.

"Mars, I'm so sorry. For everything. You should of grown up with us," she said teary eyed.

"We all make mistakes," Mars smiled and grabbed her hand. He didn't love her, and he hardly respected her. Sour memories of his father's violence and her ignorant excuses saw to that, but she was his mother none the less, and it was what he felt he owed her. A love which was kind of a burdensome debt.

Mars wondered what she felt.

Born and raised in shackles, Zarrosh lived a life of servitude and hard labor until finally being freed by the Goblin Revolt several years ago. Determined to make his own fortune like those who owned him, Zarrosh chose to sell his sword instead of join the Revolt. His freedom was newly found, and more worth protecting than the freedom of others. The world was cruel, and he aspired not just to survive it, but to conquere it. Soon his face was, like his back, covered in scars. Whether by whips or by blades, they all told the story of the orc that was given pain, but lived past it. Defending warlord clients, raiding for warlord clients, the work was not what mattered. The gold was what Zarrosh craved.

And that was his downfall. After Marcus Verger, a particularly slimy client, refused to pay him for his services, Zarrosh hunted him down and found himself trapped. Verger had captured Zarrosh, and instead of parting with his own gold in return for the orc's services, would be lining his pockets with more of it by selling him to slavers. Shortly after, a customer named Garrett bought the orc. Zarrosh was, once again, a slave.

When one becomes a slave in the Free Holds, they have no idea what life they are being handed. Will they build for their master, or destroy? Will they give pleasure to others, or pain? To a degree, it depends on the slave. If Zarrosh was a beautiful human woman, perhaps his body would be used to relieve others for the profit of his owner, but there is not nearly as high a demand for the intimacy that a battle-hardened male orc could provide. No, Zarrosh was not left chained to a wall, behind a silk curtain in a pleasure house... Zarrosh was sent to an arena.

In the arena, masters bet gold on their slave's success in the pit, and by winning they must give a percentage of their winnings to their slave. With enough victories, a slave may buy his freedom back from their master, but they don't survive for long without equipment only their master can provide. There is where the freedom so seemingly easily earned became impossible to attain: masters force their slaves to purchase this equipment for ridiculous amounts of money, taking away all of the progress the slave made by winning their fights.

Zarrosh, however, was simply unwilling to part with his gold. He didn't care if he was a slave or a sellsword, the gold he earned was his, and the orc would buy his freedom or cost his master by dying in the process. Soon his skill in the pit and scarred body were memorable enough to bring a new level of audience attendence to the arena, where the orc slave with the scarred face was an attraction to the paying crowd. They called him Zarrosh the Maimed.

As time went on, the gold poured in more quickly than anticipated. Zarrosh was fighting such valuable slave opponents that his freedom was quickly becoming a reality, and he didn't spend a single coin of his winnings along the way. His penultimate opponent, a ogre worth over ten times as much as Zarrosh himself was when purchased, was the toughest fight yet, but he fell just as all the others did.

Before his final fight, Zarrosh was summoned by his master. Garrett warned him that the ogre's owner was furious about his loss, and that he'd bribed the arena's owner enough that he was granted the ability to bring three opponents into the pit for Zarrosh's next match. The orc had won all of his matches with a greatsword and no armor, but had no chance against three well-equipped opponents without some sort of advantage. And Garrett offered it to him: a mask, a holy relic that would allow the wearer to channel their stamina into divine power that could destroy all three opponents without Zarrosh breaking a sweat. He began to decline, but Garrett gave him all the information he needed to accept the offer: the mask was free. The match would give Garrett more than enough gold to live comfortably for the forseeable future, and he would be honored to be the first master to bring a slave to freedom in the arena.

So Zarrosh put on the mask. His greatest mistake. The energy it gave him was amazing, and the holy power flowed through him, but then he tried to take the mask off. Somehow, magically, it was stuck to his face. Suddenly guards arrived and dragged the confused orc to the pit, Garrett informing his slave that the mask was cursed, and could not be removed so long as the wearer lived. Before he could try and consider what had just happened to him, Zarrosh was in the arena pit, his freedom on the line in a fight against three other slaves.

Furious, the orc found that his energy actually was capable of being channeled through the mask, a noticable portion of his stamina exchanged for holy power. Striking down his opponents with ease, Zarrosh held his blade up high, forgetting the mask for a moment to soak up the glory of freedom being returned to him. That is, of course, until the announcer referred to him as the 'Faceless Warrior', stating that this was his first victory.

It all made sense now. Garrett had created a new identity for Zarrosh to be forced into. He could claim that the 'Faceless Warrior' cost whatever number he came up with, and not even Zarrosh himself could prove Garrett a liar. The matches would make Garrett potentially limitless amounts of gold, and Zarrosh's quest for freedom would simply be forgotten. Of course, the plan did not account for Zarrosh fighting back. As guards came to collect the winner, he tapped again into his stamina and cut them down, making his way through the arena's underground halls to find the man that cursed him, and answers about the supposedly-cursed mask.

While searching for Garrett, Zarrosh killed a guard stationed at a cell containing several slaves. Freeing them, he ordered the men to find more slaves, free them, and take back their freedom. In the ensuing chaos, Zarrosh found Garrett and cornered the former master, promising to spare him if he gave Zarrosh every bit of information he had on the mask and how to remove it.

Garrett confessed that the mask was an investment on Zarrosh, bought from a vendor in Tuleria. The merchant told Garrett that the item was a long-cursed mask created by angels, used to force the guilty to fight the darkness of the world and find redemption. The curse would allow them to channel their inner strength and manifest it in the form of holy power, but would forever force them to be faceless warriors during their enslavement. Garrett, with a laugh, told Zarrosh that he felt it was only fitting to have a slave wear a slave's mask, and mused that only an angel would possibly have the power to remove such a curse. Upset that he would have to live the rest of his life behind a mask, Zarrosh broke his promise to Garrett, killing his former master.

As the blade cut Garrett through the middle, his coin purse fell. Gold spilled across the ground, droplets of blood falling from Zarrosh's blade onto the coins. Everything, from Verger and Garrett's greed to Zarrosh's own, revolved around the almighty currency. The gods were banished, but this diety was not, and would take men's hearts with nothing but a promise of an easy life ahead. Men lived and died becasue of it, bodies were traded for it, and freedom was bought and sold with it. But he would no longer live under its rule.

In the year following, Zarrosh spent his time hunting down those who wronged him. The man that owned the ogre was quickly found and cut apart, Marcus Verger was beaten to death and soon Zarrosh was without direction. He considered finally joining the Goblin Revolt, but the desire to free himself from the mask's curse forced him to continue to travel. And one day, on his journey, a man recognized the writing on his mask. An ancient language used by both gods and men, promising freedom in exchange for service to the light, the power of the holy guarding his very soul. The man, a priest, told Zarrosh that this text must mean that corruption cannot poison the soul of the mask's wearer, and asked him to consider joining the Queen's Blades and using his blessing to help others. Zarrosh did not know how true the mask's writing was, or how much good he could do for the world, but has nowhere else to go. Of course, saving the world with heroes from all across it might help the people come together as well, leading to the end of the barbaric ways of the Free Holds. Of course, he might also find a cure for his curse along the way.

Born to middle class parents mere minutes before his sister, Nadira, Maher grew up in relative comfort. His father, A mage of some respect in teluria began instructing his twin children in water magic when they were but five, simple things initially discipline, concentration and a few extremely simple spells. While it meant their father didn't have to put up with childish temper tantrums half as much as other fathers with kids their age it did bring out the prankster side of the two of them early and with more cunning than most children their age. Discovering his children had a telepathic link with each other certainly didn't help that.

When the twins were 12 their mother passed away from an illness that the local healer and even their fathers magic could not cure, this prompted their Father to train the two of them harder in magic as a way of coping with his loss while the twins took comfort in the rigid structure of the training. This only lasted a few more years however as their father never really recovered from the loss of their mother and he also passed away only a few years later.

The twins left home together and started travelling the world rather than stay in a house that held so many memories. As they travelled Maher, who had always been religious grew more and more dedicated to Merlin, the god he chose to follow, and it began to drive something of a wedge between the the twins. Banished or not, Maher would say, Merlin was a god worthy of his dedication. Then came the morning when he awoke to discover Nadira had left in the night. He refrained from using their link to ask why, he had known of the tension between the two of them for a while now. Perhaps it was best they went their separate ways. They would however talk from time to time over the next few years.

Maher soon found himself drawn to a small temple in Renalta's highlands, there he encountered an order on monks that came from many faiths. They had banded together in the wake of the banishment to avoid persecution and to share knowledge in the hope they might find a way to reach their gods once more. They remained a small and isolated group however and did their best not to bother outsiders and so they were not seen as a threat by most people. They did however also practice martial based meditations, so as to protect themselves when the occasional maruaders or outlaws thought to try pillaging their temple. Maher chose to stay and study with the monks, learning their ways and finding new ways to fuel his magic by tapping into the ambient magic that was all around him through meditation.

General Traits
--Trait 1: Raw Talent:
After a few (or perhaps several) failed attempts at magic, you suddenly found yourself able to bring a raw spark of power to life in your hands. After being awed by it, you found that you could consistently control and contort this power to your will. You could conjure subtle things, flashes of light or wreathing your hands in fire. (Basics of casting magic power-wise.)
--Trait 2: Apprentice (School 1: Water magic):
Combined with Raw Talent, you’ve learned how to harness that raw magical power into a consistent train of thought. Through studying a few tomes and, possible, learning from the Mage’s Guild, you’ve focused yourself onto a single school of magic. This will help focus your power into something consistent and tangible, but it’s only the beginning... (Basics of understanding magic. One school of magic unlocked.)
--Trait 3: Awakened Meditation:
Through great discipline you have figured out how to tap into the natural magic in the air all around you. It will still take time and practice to master, but nonetheless, this has increased the amount of spells you can cast before you fatigue yourself, and increased the rate at which you regain your energy to cast more spells. (Basics of increasing your magic limitations, and recovery speed from casting magical spells.)
-----------Rapid Mental Recovery (Rank 2):
You have mastered the art of magic to the point where you can recover fully between battles, and have started to develop a small ability to 'steal' and absorb the magic others throw at you. (Basics of spell stealing (passive), this character fully recovers between multiple battles in a single mission.)
--Trait 4: Acrobatics:
You understand the basics of climbing ropes, ascending walls, jumping across rooftops, and rolling when you hit the ground. On the other hand, you’ve only really grasped the basics of it, so jumping a twenty foot chasm while being shot at is not recommended. (Basics of acrobatics: Climbing, falling gracefully, etc.)

Unique Traits
--Trait 1: What If I'm Far From Home:
Throughout his life Maher has had a connection with his twin, Nadira. They can speak to each other telepathically and when closer feel what the other feels if they feel it strong enough, injuries, primal emotions... other less comfortable things that they both would prefer they didn't feel. While distance can effect the strength of the empathic side of their link they have so far found no such disruption on communication.
-----------Oh Sister I Will Help You Out: (Rank 2)
The link the twins share has grown stronger through their time in the Queens Blades. They are now able, with the others concent, to see through each others eyes and hear what the other hears. This of course takes concentration and the twin using this ability loses input from their own senses for the duration.
--Trait 2: Warrior Monk:
for the last several years Maher has been living with a religious order of monks in an isolated temple in the Renaltan highlands where he learned martial meditation forms that are just as effective when applied to combat, while far from a master, Maher has also learned to integrate the forms with his water magic to augment strikes leaving him as a man not to be underestimate in melee combat.
--Trait 3: Mind and Body:
Mahers training at the temple covered more than martial meditation techniques, it also covered the concept of the mind and body as one. Rapid movements sharpen his mind allowing his perception to keep up with his speed. Focusing his mind makes his movements more precise. When the mind and body are in harmony many things can be acomplished.

Equipment List
Comfortable if modest clothes
Smooth beechwood staff
Rosary bleeds
2 waterskins that he keeps filled at all times.

Nadira was born into a middle class family in the Kingdom of Tuleria. Raised alongside her twin brother Maher (who as he points out on a regular basis was born a few minutes before her) by their mother and father, their father a mage who could wield the element of water, began teaching her the basics of water magic around the age of 5. At 12 Nadira's mother passed away leaving her father alone to raise too raise the twins and continue their magic training.
in her mid teens Nadiras father also passed, She then accompanied her brother travelling, she did not want to be left in their home with the memories that still haunted her.
About 5 years ago they went their separate ways, Nadira having grown tiresome of her brothers religious devotion. She left quietly one night, knowing that no matter how far they might travel they would never truly be apart.
She found herself under the tutor of a mage named Teila, who wielded an unnatural sort of magic, Blood Magic. Teila had accompanied the queen during the banishing of the gods. She told her of her old apprentice, and how she had told herself she would never pass on the knowledge of her magic again after his rather.. tragic.. death.
Nadira convinced Teila to train her in the use of herbs and potions. After a year or so Nadira stumbled upon Teilas grimouire while the healer was away, thanks to her previous training in magic and knowing how to fuel her water magic using blood, Nadira was able to use the grimouire to learn the basics. It was not long before Teila discovered her.
It was then Teila told Nadira of the danger of using Blood Magic, the risk of possession. Teila, though feeling betrayed, then showed Nadira how to wield the blood properly, telling her stories of her time with the queen. Some were rather.. colourful when involving Teilas possession by the demon she still battled with from time to time.
She joined the queens blades after being prompted by Teila. Her constant warnings about learning control, finding more experience. She would not gain that sitting around dealing with herbs all day.

General Traits
--Trait 1: Raw Talent:
After a few (or perhaps several) failed attempts at magic, you suddenly found yourself able to bring a raw spark of power to life in your hands. After being awed by it, you found that you could consistently control and contort this power to your will. You could conjure subtle things, flashes of light or wreathing your hands in fire. (Basics of casting magic power-wise.)
--Trait 2: Apprentice (School 1: Water magic):
Combined with Raw Talent, you’ve learned how to harness that raw magical power into a consistent train of thought. Through studying a few tomes and, possible, learning from the Mage’s Guild, you’ve focused yourself onto a single school of magic. This will help focus your power into something consistent and tangible, but it’s only the beginning... (Basics of understanding magic. One school of magic unlocked.)
-------------Wizened (Rank 2)(School 2: Herb Healing): Having done some study and practice, you can now understand two schools of magic, and understand a greater amount of subtly with your first school of magic. There is now a greater chance of you casting a spell without others noticing, unless the spell is blatant and loud: Like a fire ball. ("Stealth magic" and a second school of magic.)
--Trait 3: Fortitude:
Whether or not you are a mage, you can learn how to defend yourself from one, and that is just what you decided to do. After all, how else are you supposed to save the world if you can be cooked in a fireball by a pissed off mage? (Basics of resisting magical spells. NOTE: This is all magic--good, bad, and neutral!)
--Trait 4: Awakened Meditation:
Through great discipline you have figured out how to tap into the natural magic in the air all around you. It will still take time and practice to master, but nonetheless, this has increased the amount of spells you can cast before you fatigue yourself, and increased the rate at which you regain your energy to cast more spells. (Basics of increasing your magic limitations, and recovery speed from casting magical spells.)

Unique Traits
--Trait 1. Oh brother I will hear you call:
Throughout her life Nadira has had a connection with her twin, Maher. They can speak to each other telepathically and when closer feel what the other feels if they feel it strong enough, injuries, primal emotions... other less comfortable things that they both would prefer they didn't feel. While distance can effect the strength of the empathic side of their link they have so far found now such disruption on communication.
------------What If I Lose It All: (Rank 2)
The link the twins share has grown stronger through their time in the Queens Blades. They are now able, with the others concent, to see through each others eyes and hear what the other hears. This of course takes concentration and the twin using this ability loses input from their own senses for the duration.
--Trait 2. Blood Magic: Having learned from Teila, Nadira can use the practice of blood magic to fuel her spells in place of mana or to augment her water magic with different properties, she is however rather less skilled in this than she is with straight water magic.

Equipment List
TBD

Eugh, trigger warning here. Becoming a whore isn’t a nice story.

---

In the markets of the Free Holds, you can find anything your desire, for a price. Flesh is a common commodity, both in slaves, in whores, or both. One of the more reputable pleasure houses, The Rose’s Thorns, was where Zayn’s mother spent her days. She was lucky - she was pretty. Her master sold her to the Rose after she was old enough to bleed. Compared to the other tasks assigned to slaves in Southblood, working in a pleasure house was paradise. She had regular clients, and not all were simply interested in her for carnal pleasures. There were more than a few naive young men who became enamored of her, or so Zayn was told. They brought her gifts, and for the first time, Zayn’s mother had things of her own.

That was, as he was often told, before she became with child. The other girls said she was lucky that the child didn’t show through her stomach during the term, but the pregnancy was painful for her. She suffered from massive mood swings beyond the norm, had strange nightmares. When the child finally came, she was relieved that the trials were finally over. In the one moment of motherly grace she afforded him, she called the baby “Zayn”, meaning beauty.

Zayn was quickly taken from his mother and given to one of the older crones - former whores, now to old to be of use, who instead cleaned the buildings. The owner of the Rose made sure all of his property was put to work. And so Zayn grew up among these former whores, and they taught him to walk, to talk, and then to walk quietly and when not to talk. As a young boy he began cleaning the Rose.

A whorehouse has thin walls, and Zayn learned much throughout his childhood. He taught himself to read with the help of a kindly maid and discarded love letters. He watched people, both clients and workers, learning how they acted, and what their actions meant.

His childhood as a janitor, however, quickly came to a crashing halt. Zayn was making his rounds of the buildings, cleaning as always, and passed through the Rose’s main lobby. Speaking to his master was a man, inquiring about ways to empty his heavy coinpurse. When this man saw Zayn, he told the master he wanted him. The Rose served to clients of any tastes, and Zayn’s master would do anything for coin -- including putting a boy of hardly thirteen summers into the business.

Zayn hardly remembers anything about that night save for the pain, and the fact that he wanted the man to hurt as badly as he hurt him. Eventually, Zayn passed out. When he woke up, the man lay there, unmoving, eyes wide open and empty. His master was furious, deaths were bad for business after all. Zayn was thrown out of the rose, and forced to live on the streets.

He eventually fell in with one of the various urchin gangs of the city. They became his family, and his brothers and sisters. During this time, his powers began to manifest themselves. After his tragic last night in the Rose, he began hearing whispers. Eventually he realized these as the thoughts of those around them. While running with the urchins, he began mastering his power in secret, always afraid that they might one day tear everything away from him again.

Urchins grow up, and one day Zayn and many of his brothers were simply too old to continue as they were. They found themselves in with the actual gangs of the cities- criminals, murderers, the whole lot. Many of his brothers couldn't make the change, or couldn’t grow up, and now sleep beneath the dunes. After a few years of small larceny and cutting purses, one of the bosses thought of a better idea. Whoring was much more profitable and less dangerous than thieving.

The boss set Zayn up in a small hovel down a decriped alleyway. She even allowed him to keep a small cut of the profits - though most went first to the game, and then a second portion to her. Zayn continued on this way, whoring, using his unique gifts to make patrons into repeat customers. From time to time, he’d learn juicy secrets worth some gold to someone, and the boss would reward him in kind if he ever provided anything profitable.

Ten years after leaving the Rose, Zayn had done well for himself. He had a modicum of independence, more than many of his birth would ever have. His life would, however, be ripped from him again. Zayn was speaking to a new prospective client - a tall, kindly woman, older than most who would seek out his services, and far too clean. Zayn remembers them taking tea, and then his mind clouded and he woke up alone. He found an all-to-generous sum in his hovel.

Later, he would learn that the woman was a mage, a mercenary who was helping the authorities deal with his gang. She has used her abilities to force him to tell her everything he knew! With his unique relationship to his boss - she had over the years become a good friend and an adoptive parental figure despite her ruthless attitude towards profit - it had been enough to seriously damage the organization. He was branded a traitor. He had to run.

Using his savings and the money given to him by the mage (had she given it to him out of pity for the hell she caused him?), he booked passage over the blood sea. He landed in the Rheinfield Republic, in the midst of their civil war. He moved to Veldhausen, trying to become lost amongst the throng. In Rheinfield, he picked up some of the basics of how to defend himself against magic. He was determined to never let his mind be controlled by another.

Veldhausen is a great place to hide, but a horrible place to live. Spurred by the constant talk of the glory of Renalta reborn, he joined a caravan headed that way. A member of the Queen’s Blade was likewise on the way back home. Zayn had head of the group - Kouri’s elite task force, recruiting ‘exceptional’ characters from across the world… He determined that he should join them. So, after some talk, and showcasing the errant Blade an exceptional abilities, he was extended an invitation. The rest is history.