Although the archetypal tank is a hardy warrior in heavy armor, many tanking methods have arisen over the years from the steelbelly style of Sir Gusticate to the naked berserk style of Alaina the scarred. Some tanks forgo armor for massive weapons and maneuverability, while others learn limited healing arts to assuage their inevitable wounds. Whether knight, barbarian or paladin, however, the role of a tank remains the same. The tank grabs the attention of the opponent (often by aiming over much at its crotch) and is prepared to take every ounce of pain it can dish out. Because they take the hits so their comrades don't have to, Tanks are usually respected in their group. For this reason Tanks tend to gravitate toward the leadership role.

Halton Elvweir the 3rd, classical treasure hunter and author of over two hundred penny novels in the age before aethernet once wrote, "if it doesn't look trapped, it's trapped. If it looks trapped, it is also trapped. In fact, the only thing that isn't trapped is a dead rogue in a sprung trap, except in those rare cases that the trap is also trapped." Due to the profusion of traps, complex locks and puzzles in dungeons (particularly professionally designed ones), no party ventures out without a cunning rogue at their side. Rogues are the least likely adventurers to receive classical training. Many actually come from the dregs of society learning their trade on the street rather than the classroom. In the slums, becoming a professional rogue is the dream of thousands of poverty stricken children, though, few make it through the thieves gauntlets designed to separate the agile and cunning from the clumsy and eviscerated. Not unsurprisingly, rogues are among the least trusted members of parties and stories of neutral evil rogues faking their allignment tests only to make off with the first big treasure haul abound. Many rogues, however, are team players and suffer unfairly under this stereotype.

In the modern world where internet trolls often represent a bigger threat to adventurers than actual trolls, the role of bard, each party's online PR expert, has become essential. Bards are eloquent and tech savvy adventurers who go no where without their spellphones and rune pads. In ancient times Bards spent their lives penning grand poetic verses, but now their work has moved into the aether where they spend their time uploading video streams of party victories, blogging about their adventures and, in some cases, anonymously trolling rival groups. This is not to say bards play no role in real adventuring. Due to their vast knowledge, bards are invaluable sources of lore ready to moogle the weaknesses of an eccentric monster or pull vital information on an evil antipaladin from his helmbook page. And, with their technomagic skills Bards are occasionally needed to hack and slash into an evil wizard's spell files or upload a hex into a dungeon operating system. Bards are also jacks of all trades picking up dashes of both combat and magical skills throughout their career.

In a world where alchemy is big business and healing potions can be bought in 24 packs at your local Copper Store, many parties choose to operate without a devoted healer and instead just take a swig of Red-tubeᵀᴹ (Red it & Forget it!) when an ogre scores a lucky hit. Even adventurers who fall can be brought back later at local temples, so long as their body isn't in too many pieces. Despite these advances, many parties (especially those who can afford it), continue to keep a healer in the group even if this means they must occasionally suffer a sanctimonious lecture on morality. Healers come from seminaries, monestaries, temples, churches, circles and covens. They range from mind numbing social conservatives who still think their God made women out of an ear bone in order to cook meatloaf and pump out babies, to the radical feminist witches who only dance naked under the moon when its a really slow night. All healers, however, have some skill in the restorative and abjuring magical arts, both protecting their friends from harm and sealing their wounds so that they don't have to bother fumbling with potions in the middle of a sword fight with an eight sworded sword-spider.

Mages are undoubtedly the biggest nerds of the adventuring world. Not overly known for physical fitness, your average wizard has spent four years as an undergraduate apprentice at their local Arcane College, two years as a master's student spending long nights toiling over stinking cauldrons, and a further two years to earn their SpD (doctorate in spellcraft) and with it their official guild license. After all this work, most wizards choose to take big contracts from Alchemy and Spelltech companies or a lofty professorship rather than go trampsing through the wilderness with a bunch of immature hack&slashers. Only the eccentric and desperate follow the route of the adventuring mage and as a result party magicians have a reputation for insanity and ineptitude both. Despite their frailty and idiosyncrasies, however, wizards remain essential to the adventuring process. Warlocks, often unlicensed magicians, are a common opponent and without a mage to counter their curses most parties would end their adventures in unenviable animal forms. Mages also bring a degree of classical schooling to groups that the hi-tech bards lack, able to translate the ancient scripts which still can be found etched on dungeon walls across the realms and which often bear important messages like, 'watch for infinite abyss or beware wyvern.'

Name
Pic <try to choose something not too serious, anime is fine>
Class <your specific adventurer training>
Race <stick to the standard fantasy fare: elf & dwarf, I will allow only one of each since humans are far more common>
Personality
Physical description
Background <specifically how you became an adventurer>
Talents
Flaws
Quote <something you would say or do say annoyingly often>
Treasure <various magical items you've nabbed over the years>
Magic <if applicable, not a list of every spell but rather the general theme of your abilities>
Relationships <how do you feel about the other partymembers, who's your BFF and who frustrates you to no end, to be worked out in the OOC>
Allies <friends, contacts, pets, or other allies not official members of the CMP>

Name: Adela Caflice

Pic:

Class: Mage

Race: Human

Personality: Adela fancies herself a magical encyclopedia. She isn't an encyclopedia by any means, but she certainly knows how to cast a spell or two. A little too devoted to continuing her magical studies, she can be likened to that one girl in every class who would smack you with whatever book she's reading if you interrupted her mid-study. She's also very critical of her allies, pointing out their flaws more than their strong points, which makes her seem rude. However, that's just her way of showing she cares. In the unlikely event that one were to actually receive a compliment from Adela, they can be certain that, like everything else she says, it will be straight to the point and not a lie.

Adela also has a fair few social ticks that make most people want to strangle her. First and foremost, in line with her pointing out the flaws of her allies as she sees them, she fails to get that there are some things you just can't tell certain people. She also takes things very literally; if you tell her to go to hell, she'll probably respond with "I already tried, but I need to improve my skills before another attempt if I value my life." However, she'll never lie to others, and assumes what people tell her will always be true. That means it's ridiculously easy to manipulate her, but don't expect a warm reception if Adela finds out she's being lied to.

Physical Description: Physically frail, Adela's general lack of scars and wounds are signs that she avoids battle when possible. There are a few burns and magic-based scars on her arms, but she often wears long-sleeved clothing to keep these covered. Attire-wise, she'll always wear her black hat and usually add a black cloak. These serve to make her already-light skin seem even lighter, with the same effect on her blonde hair, always cut to a very specific length and tied into a ponytail whenever she's awake. Although, there is one other feature Adela keeps under clothing and as secret as possible.

Covering the majority of her back is a massive seal burned into her flesh. This is to keep a summoned demon's spirit bound to her hat, and consists of a large circle with millions of tiny runic letters. These letters are the terms of her contract with the demon. He serves as a booster to her otherwise-mediocre magical power and a secondary source of mana in case Adela's naturally-low supply runs out, but in exchange Adela's soul becomes his property when she dies along with all her knowledge of magic. She'd sooner peel the flesh off her back than let somebody know about the seal.

Background: Hailing from an otherwise-unremarkable city with the foremost academy of the magical arts, Adela's parents were both professors at this academy. It seemed only natural that Adela would have massive magical capabilities on her own, right? Wrong. Actually, she has the weakest magic power in the last five generations of both sides of her family. Her magic strength on its own actually is actually really low for a mage. It was a fact that shamed her to no end, especially when she had two parents who were both so powerful in their respective fields of magic. She needed to compensate for it somehow. She chose knowledge.

Being the daughter of two professors meant Adela had easy access to the academy libraries. Day and night, she would be found there, pouring herself into countless different books, not setting one down until every page had been burned into her memory. From age six onward, Adela did nothing but study. She kept studying and studying, learning so many different things about magic. However, she couldn't find any means of making her own magic more powerful. At least, not that she was willing to take on at a young age. But there were some things even the libraries didn't have on record because they were such heavy magical taboos. Like conjuring demons.

At the ripe age of twenty, Adela enrolled in the academy. Her deep pool of knowledge compensated for her lack of real ability, and her grades soared. Five years passed, until the time came for her final tests. She started getting really nervous about a week before the exams. It took real powerful magic to pass those; the kind of magic Adela would never be able to cast on her own. How to deal with that? She received her answers in a dream three days before the exams. Make a contract with a demon for power. Adela was hesitant at first, given that demon-summoning was a major magical taboo. However, the demon enticed her with the right deal at the right time, and she bound the demon's spirit to her hat. With the power boost he granted her, Adela was readily able to pass her finals. The next year passed relatively quietly, with her aspiring to become an adventurer but not quite having the guts to step out and do it.

Then Chainmail Panties had an opening. Granted, Adela had no reputation at all. Outside of town, nobody even knew her name, or that she even existed. Hell, half the town didn't even know she was there! Still, Deepstead - the demon within her hat - told her to give it a try. His advice hadn't let her down thus far, so she took it and offered to join them. She conveniently omitted the part where there was a demon's spirit hanging out in her hat, as well as the fact that she's never brewed a successful potion.

Talents: Adela is great at problem-solving and boasts a vast knowledge of magic, especially for her age. Most particularly, her talents lie in the manipulations of fire or plants. She's also not a bad summoner, but her natural summoning talent lies almost exclusively in demonology, which she tries to keep secret for fear of being judged.

Flaws: Despite being good with casting spells, Adela is probably the worst alchemist you'll ever meet. Her attempts at even the simplest potions can and will have any kind of adverse effect, but never quite what she's aiming for. She's come close to the desired result a few times, but it would be best to just go to a shop instead of trusting Adela's potions. She's also considerably weaker when her hat is removed.

Quote: "No matter how great that may be, it could still use some improvement."

Treasure: She tries not to brag about it, but Adela does have one unique item. Her hat. So that she could pass her finals, Adela bound a demon's spirit to her hat as part of a contract. The hat has since adopted the name Deepstead, but he's not very useful as a familiar unless worn. The most he can do unless he's on somebody's head is sit around and gather dust, but he's got a few tricks when on somebody's head. Namely, Deepstead gives Adela's naturally mediocre magic a little more oomph so she can competitively cast, and serves as a better pool of mana than her notably small reserve. He's also capable of talking to whoever wears him and altering their senses, but this can sometimes make the wearer pass of as being crazy since nobody else hears him or is affected by his sensory magic. Most notably, Adela is the only person so far to have "seen" Deepstead's spirit, and often forgets that physical objects will pass right through the walking hallucination.

Magic: Adela's magic is widely varied, but her favorite types of magic involve manipulating plants or fire. Her personal favorite spell is one she crafted as a mix of the two, in which she grows a tree with arms and a mouth that can spray fire. However, this particular trick is very taxing on her mana supply, and as such, it's reserved for desperate situations.

Relationships:

Allies: Deepstead the Magical Hat

Abireo Malistorth Caspar

Class: Mage
Race: Human
Personality:
If you boiled him down to his bits and pieces, at heart Albireo is two parts nice guy and one part loser.

But he's an awfully good liar.

More than anything, Albireo wants to be a hero. A proper one, the kind you see while scrolling through the Arcanotube vids. Swordplay and sorcery, blasting demons with one hand with the princess he just saved in the other... If he was anything like that it might be a little easier on him, but he's sure he'll get there eventually. With a bit of help. And a bit of gnomish vodka, cut with some fruit juice or something because that stuff is pretty rough. And enough luck to choke the last sorcerer who got kicked out of Chainmail Panties, which (though he totally wouldn't know...) is saying something. A fast talker even when caught in the act, he hasn't yet learned that honesty—if not the best policy—at least doesn't get him in quite as much trouble as the tall tales he spins as a nervous habit are like to do.

But trouble is where heroes get their hudspah, right?

Physical Description:
Albireo is 'awkwardly tall', standing at just over six feet of lanky build. Not bad looking but prettier than he is handsome, his dark hair is more often than not in a shoulder-length shag because he has absolutely no idea how to request it cut. He favors the robes and trappings of magedom because they make him feel mage-y, but his minimal budget and lack of personal style tend to mean that he's draped in something resembling burlap more often than not. When he's feeling clever he calls it 'poverty chic', but he's usually more interested in drawing attention away from the generally shabby manner of his clothing.

Despite that it gives him a bit more 'hero cred', he is intensely embarrassed about the sharp scar that slides down the side of his nose and under his left eye, and provides increasingly grandiose lies about how he received it when asked.

Background:
Some adventurers are born. Others are made.

Some of them google it and give it a go.

Albireo was born Thomas Casper, son of a fortune teller and one of her clients she took a fancy too and convinced that his 'true love' was sitting right across the room from her. Nine months later she had him by the baby and the two were happily, if grudgingly, married. Little Thomas was a surprisingly easy child to work with if you discounted the fact that he didn't sleep much at all—he walked and talked early (because he had so much goddamn time to practice) and growing up was certain that he would become an archaeologist, digging up dragon bones and finding rare and exotic new monsters that had long ago been slain by warriors of old. All of this changed, however, when his father finally sprung for aethernet in the house to provide a bit more stimulation than his enthusiastic but aging witch of a wife could provide. If his father used it for less wholesome purposes, it was during his own meandering with the seventy-two inch crystal ball they'd gotten on layaway that Thomas found his true calling:

He was going to be a hero.

Staying up for hours watching the Arcanotube videos of warriors, wizards and badass knights cleaving their way through their latest adversaries, Thomas was absolutely certain that this was how he was going to wind up. The only real question was how—his mother flat laughed at the thought of putting him through sword lessons and his father, a thief who'd had the good sense (assisted by 'glimpses from the beyond') to retire and live off his life's big score rather than keep at it, quickly found that his bumbling boy just didn't have the knack for it. He possessed no rhythm whatsoever when he tried to apprentice himself to one of the bard's on the street that took his allowance for ale-money, and when he took a punch from a local tomboy who'd been making fun of him he bruised so spectacularly he could tell that taking a beating wasn't in his future. He had, however, managed to knack his way through a few aetherweb lessons on basic sorcery and was getting to be a competent enough hedge-mage—but everyone wanted titles and degrees from a recognized school of magic. And if he'd had the money to go to one, maybe he would have.

But he did learn the spell the dean of Alatross' Institute or Arcana used to validate a student's diploma in an informational coup he's still quite proud of.

“Albireo Caspar” graduated less than a year ago, Magician Cum Laude. Given even a drizzle of luck, Chain Mail Panties will be his first gig and his big break.

Talents:
Al's a pretty boss mage if you give him half a chance. Having never really had anyone to compare himself to he never bothered to limit himself, and he's proven an amazingly intuitive caster for how little exposure he's had to magical theory. The aethernet showed him things that his teachers would never have dared to, and so he's got a few tricks in his repertoire of significantly higher caliber than a student his age would dream of casting.

He's also an excellent liar, as mentioned, and an excellent gambler when he's drunk.

Flaws:
Al writes checks his ass can't cash, and that always comes back to bite him in the end. He's also really just a guy who geeked out on the 'net—he doesn't have the fundamentals that come from classic schooling, or the control and breadth of knowledge that go with them. There are plenty of spells he doesn't know—even basic ones—because nobody bothered to throw it into the aether or he was too bored by it to look. He's also a generally uncoordinated young man, and everything that implies.

Quote “When in doubt, lie through your teeth.”
Treasure:
Albireo's really just starting out, he doesn't have much by way of treasure. He has a few items of worth, however:

+MgkP3 Player
A small brick of an .mp3 player, when activated it plays appropriate theme music for whatever happens to be going on at the time. As it doesn't exactly have speakers of its own one would think this would be of relatively limited utility, but the knackery in it is surprisingly sophisticated—the kind of music it plays, the tempo, the lyrics, all are surprisingly insightful when it comes to the world around it. When Jaws rolls on, for instance, Albireo knows that he should probably take a hike. He won it off a card game at one of the local hedge-bars before they realized what a shark he was while sloshed and kicked him out.

+The Little Black Cell Phone
A small, old-style flip phone, the jet-black little brick is a perfect example of why some vids get pulled from the aethernet. Nobody wants someone running around with a cell-phone that, so long as you plug a copper into the charging slot, you can use it to dial any phone. Anywhere. Plugged in, working, broken, blocked... if it's got a number and you can think of how to define the phone, you can ring it. Albireo only half-remembers how to make it, and the vid mysteriously vanished from the Well of History in his spyglass, but it's come in surprisingly handy. Even if it does cost a copper to use each time because some jackass thought it would be funny.

Magic:
Albireo's magic is really limited to the kinds of things a twenty-two year old guy would find awesome or handy. He can do some of the standard magely things, shoot Magic Missles and Fireballs and Albireo's Apeshit Assault and the like, and even some really impressive tricks like slowing down time for a spell or co-locating a pair of locations to allow for seamless transportation, but there are such gaps in his knowledge as 'being able to make a light that isn't pink' or 'how to fly' that it's more than occasionally embarrassing. Nobody likes having to flash-freeze a room when all you wanted was some ice-water.

Weirdly, his spells never seem to take much out of him. Odd, that.

Relationships: To be announced.
Allies: Something of a local celebrity in the hedge-community, Albireo's got contacts here and there. People whose videos he's commented or postulated on, people who've seen his own reproductions of their sorceries and wanted to compare notes...plenty of flamers, too, but sometimes they make the best allies of all. More than once he's worked out a spell because he bet SmokeyDragon717 she couldn't do it. Costs him an eyebrow, but well worth it.