Because they were apparently supposed to go in a new post that I refused to do, HERE THE STUFF IS
Draza's upgrades
--
Obfuscating Stupidity; Draza knows that she's not really much of a threat in most eyes already, but she's clever enough to use that to her advantage. She's adept at taking action while appearing to have simply innocently or harmlessly stumbled into her success. Really, it's how she survived this long. She
has been with roaming mage hunting Templars in the past, and criminal organizations and such.
--Straight upgrade to soothing aura
--Sharp 2
--Stealthy
Biographical SectionName: Alotha Quirinus (formerly Alotha Iovina)
Age: 39
Race: “Half”-Elf, “Half”-Human. Really far more confusingly mixed than that.
Sex: Female
Appearance: Standing at 5'8'', she was, in her youth, far more lithe and graceful, with a boyish build and small chest, but after the estrogen of a few kids her hips are wider, her top heavier, and her form far more womanly. She doesn’t have any sort of idealized figure, just a more accented form than before. Her ears are pointed, but only slightly, and her eyes are grey-white. Her hair is kept above her shoulders and is light brown. Marking her body are various scars, from where her arena gear broke, a blade or claw dug in too deep, and her nose is a bit wrong from having been broken too many times. She doesn’t have all of her teeth, missing two on her left side from a particularly powerful right hook she took once.
Homeland: Kingdom of Tuleria (formerly), Kingdom of Renalta (presently)
History: A pretty simple history. As a younger girl she took to disguising herself as a male and fighting in the ring against lizards, monsters, and guys with big weapons. She bound her chest and wore a mask that both served to protect her, intimidate, and conceal. However, despite her good track record, she eventually stopped fighting, and settled down with someone (Marino Quirinus) and had kids. Four of them, Groveren (18 M), Sandisa (12 F), Aracalo (8 M), and Minas (5 M).
However, she was unable to stay the mom for her kids after Marino sustained a severe injury in his line of work at the quarry. In order to sustain her family with the help of her eldest son’s job, Alotha had to go back to the one thing she knew how to do, fight. Returning to the ring as a ‘newcomer’, she quickly established herself as a mama badass. However, with the banishment of the gods, and the establishment of the Kingdom of Renalta and the whole ‘wow that place is cool and better to live in’, the Quirinii moved across the continent to Renalta, with any troubles beaten up and punched out by Alotha as necessary. At least, that’s how she claims it happened, Groveren helped fight things off in a more sensible manner (with weapons), and not all the fights that Alotha sometimes claimed happen did happen.
Motivation: Make the fucking world safe for her goddamn kids.
Traits & Equipment
General Traits
--Slippery: While Alotha is loath to admit it, she can’t take a hit as well as the guys in the ring usually can. The only way to really stay in the fight was to avoid the hits until she could land a good one.
----Dodge!: And part of that is being able to react fast enough to avoid the hit and get a counter punch in.
--Charger: Alotha isn’t a ranged fighter. Closing that gap and getting in on someone is part of how she kicks ass.
--Endurance Training: No one is perfect at dodging. If you can’t make it whiff completely, best to be able to take what does hit you.
--Fortitude: Same as above. Only with magic. Yeah.
Unique Traits
--Consistent Punches: Her punches aren’t the fastest. Her punches aren’t the hardest. You know what they are? Reliable. ( Improved Accuracy; Weak Punches do more damage to line them up with stronger ones. )
--Projectile Deflection: Using the smooth strong surface on the backs of her hand and along her wrist and forearm, Alotha may deflect projectiles that are coming her way with her cestuses while she gets close enough to make those ranged attacks useless. She’s able to deflect physical and magical attacks to some degree in this way. ( Able to deflect projectiles to the sides semi-randomly. )
----Projectile Reflection: Instead of just knocking the projectile aside, Alotha may meet it more directly. Usually, punching arrows and bullets still sends them off to the side, and she can’t reflect attacks as fast as she can deflect them. But that fireball? Yeah, she’s going to hit that bitch back at you. ( Able to choose the direction of the projectile’s reflection. )
--Close Quarters Combat: Alotha specialized in not just normal pugilism, but battle against both armed opponents and lizards with natural weapons. She’s become adept at fighting at a close range in general, but knows when to dodge and parry for her own sake against those with weapons. ( Bonus at close range fighting, further bonuses against armed foes. )
General Traits
--Slippery: While Alotha is loath to admit it, she can’t take a hit as well as the guys in the ring usually can. The only way to really stay in the fight was to avoid the hits until she could land a good one.
----Dodge!: And part of that is being able to react fast enough to avoid the hit and get a counter punch in.
--Charger: Alotha isn’t a ranged fighter. Closing that gap and getting in on someone is part of how she kicks ass.
--Endurance Training: No one is perfect at dodging. If you can’t make it whiff completely, best to be able to take what does hit you.
--Adrenaline: Out numbered, and outmatched, Alotha fights stronger than ever.
Unique Traits
--Consistent Punches: Her punches aren’t the fastest. Her punches aren’t the hardest. You know what they are? Reliable. ( Improved Accuracy; Weak Punches do more damage to line them up with stronger ones. )
--Projectile Deflection: Using the smooth strong surface on the backs of her hand and along her wrist and forearm, Alotha may deflect projectiles that are coming her way with her cestuses while she gets close enough to make those ranged attacks useless. She’s able to deflect physical and magical attacks to some degree in this way. ( Able to deflect projectiles to the sides semi-randomly. )
--Close Quarters Combat: Alotha specialized in not just normal pugilism, but battle against both armed opponents and lizards with natural weapons. She’s become adept at fighting at a close range in general, but knows when to dodge and parry for her own sake against those with weapons. ( Bonus at close range fighting, further bonuses against armed foes. )
----Underdog's Victory: Alotha's fought in not exactly fair circumstances, but more than that, she thrives in them, to a point. The more the odds are stacked against her, the harder she'll fight. ( Bonus to combat and survivability when fighting greater odds, be they from numbers, equipment, or skills )
Equipment ListMagical Cestuses
Combat Mask and Headgear
Various bits of normal adventure gear and other bullshit that everyone who’s not Draza probably has on them. Maps, dungeon delving stuff, basic camping supplies. The works. She got most of it after joining the Blades “I’ll probably need it.”
A homestead in Renalta where her family lives now.
Personal SectionRomance: She’s married. But sure, husband can die or if we want it to be super scandalous, she could just cheat on him. Hope you like kids though; she’s keeping them.
Does the Kouri Plushie exist?: Yes
Signature: Your username here. Elendra
The following is a tertiary character, would prefer Alotha if I get a second over Ynari :D
Biographical SectionName: Ynari el-Haddad, formerly Ynari the Nameless
Age: 56
Race: Desert Dwarf, a race of dwarves that reside on the surface around deserts; true in dwarven blood and biology, they are taller and darker skinned than their subterranean cousins.
Sex: Female
Appearance: Standing at 4’10, with stocky build true to her nature, Ynari is a rather average desert dwarf young woman. Her hair is dark brown, although it tends to darken to black if she spends too much time out of sunlight. It is usually kept short, or up in a braided bun if she permits it to grow long in order to not disturb her craft. There’s very little in the way of frills in her garbs, all harty and pragmatic. Light on the skin to combat the heat of the desert and of the forge and nearly flame retardant as well. She has goggles tinted to let her stare into flames or the sun for long stretches, and rags tied around her arms to wipe sweat from her brow.
Homeland: Originally: The Free Holds / Nomadic; Presently: The Goblin Holds
History:
In short, Ynari was born to a travelling group of dwarven traders, where she learned the art of blacksmithing from her father. However, slavers attacked their caravan, and killed or captured most of her family, enslaving and moving them around. She does not know what came of them, although it is very likely they’re all dead. She became a slave as a helper to gladiators under Haidar el-Hashem, who used her skills in magic and smithing to cheat for profit and status, and to fortify his hold against outsiders. Under his ownership, she forgot her real last name, and became Ynari the Nameless as she’d be later known.
When the liberation of the hold occurred, she was found amongst many dead slaves, horribly injured and requiring medical attention. After being liberated, she began to work with the Goblin Holds for some time during their conquests before going off on her own private ventures. She rose to monetary power through a secret method of creating high quality and illustrious steel, both useful in practical applications and ceremonial. With this rise to wealth and prestige, she adopted a new surname becoming Ynari el-Haddad.
Recently she uncovered an ancient tomb that may or may not be religious, hellish, or otherwise. The tomb is within land considered hers, although she permits others to enter for a fee if they do so under close watch. There are rumours that she lusts for more ancient power and secrets, as she continues scouring the desert for more things beneath the sand. However, with fate, destiny, providence, or fortune apparently blessing her rise from being a slave, and her mighty smithing skills, she was chosen to be a member of the Queens’ Blades, supplying them with armours and weapons in return for coin to fund more expeditions around the continent in search for her prize.
Ynari was born with another name, and has changed it multiple times since. Born Yasae Kawru, she lived with her family, travelling smiths and artisans, until she was separated from them. Earning her way through what little she knew of smithing and her skill at forgecraft, she took the name Yasae Ajam for she was a foreigner of the cities. When the holding that she called home came under attack by the Goblin Holds, she took on the name of a recently dead slave, Ynari the Nameless, and used this to keep herself alive when she turned sides to the liberators. Within the Goblin Holds she gained another new surname, el-Haddad, in honour of her great smithing skills that she learned from Jabir al-Ebheredem.
Ynari as a child travelled with her family, beyond just her mother, father, and older brother. There were aunts, uncles, and more cousins than she could count. The caravan included a several wagons and many animals to draw them across the sands, as her kin roamed to sell their goods across the lands. There was a small selection of stone laden carts, that were used as various types of forges for their more lucrative wares. Her father’s, a man named Arun Kawru, was a smithy within he produced great weapons and armours. While her brother was more interested in using the blades and warhammers, Ynari took an interest in the creation aspect of it. She apprenticed under her father when she was still young, at roughly twenty years old, much to her mother’s, a fine weaver named Isra Kawru, annoyance. Isra wanted her daughter to take up her craft and not Arun’s.
She learned for thirteen years under her father, helping him provide arms for others and make money for her kin. Her first weapon made entirely by herself was after a decade under her father’s apprenticeship, and was a mace that would go on to serve her older brother, Mardic Kawru, as one of the defenders of the family’s many caravans. It was thought an impressive piece… for one who was still so new to the craft, and was little compared to the works of her father. However, it was still celebrated for her skills upon the metals they had on hand. In particular, she had learned from her father how to take shoddy materials and still refine them to make higher quality goods. It was far cheaper, although more labour intensive, to make them. However, it had less overhead than attempting to secure high quality material as nomads.
Her thirteenth year of apprenticeship was her last under her father, and her most eventful. For years she had begun to learn how to take the bones of the dead and forge weapons and armours out of those as well, a skill she was able to quickly put to use. It was but twelve days after her thirty and third birthday when their journeys further south had earned their family ill attention, as handfuls of bandit ‘liberators’ attacked their caravan one evening for ‘trading with the slavers’. She was familiar with these sorts, and how they were truly no better than those they opposed. They raped, pillaged, and burned until they were crushed again only to rise months or years later. A terribly dark cycle of the lands. The attack was brutal, but the advance of the banditry was held at bay, and from their corpses she and her father worked to make new supplies, specifically as a sign of defiance against the banditry. They would not falter to their assaults, and their attempts would only strengthen them, and arm them.
However, the message was not well met. A fortnight after their first raid, a great sandstorm rose supernaturally around their caravan, and the clans rode into battle with bloodstained banners with the intent to kill them all, or worse, for their stand against them. Ynari does not know what came of her family during the ensuing battle, the storm served as a means to split them apart, and distract them while they were slaughtered. But, she knows she was able to get out of it alive, and she was armed only with a hammer she had used at the forge. Her father was stronger still, her mother wily, and her brother a fiery warrior. There were many others in the caravan, and there couldn’t have been as many bandits as she recalls. So, to this day, she is unsure of their fate. If they had survived. If they had escaped.
Her time wandering the desert alone was arduous until she did finally stumble upon a small holding. The tall standing sandstone walls first appeared in her worn down mind as just stretching dunes into the horizon. However, when she did find that they were real, she found a small hole in them and crawled into it for a rest. There was still standing water, probably not sanitary, but she was so thirsty that she didn’t mind drinking some of the stagnant fluid before she slept. Her nap was not a long one, as the watch upon the walls had spotted her, and woke her at the point of a blade, thinking her an escaped slave at first. Quickly, however, she lied to them. She told them that she and her family were smiths from another holding, and their home was attacked by bandits. That they were dead and she had been wandering the lands in search of a shelter, and that her slaves had been liberated and turned against her. Such lies they did believe, but that did not necessarily earn their compassion. The bandits had been at their door before, and they gained little for offering this girl kindness, when instead she could be a new, young slave, right?
She tried to fight them, and one of the men at the apparent leader’s side tried to slice into her with his scimitar. However, Ynari stuck her hands out to try to block it from hitting her in the face, and a spark of magic surged from her and into the blade before it could strike her. It rusted and, of all things, fell from its handle to the ground impotently. This certainly caught the attentions of those around her. The leader of the guard around her, a man named Haidar el-Hashem, told them to stay their blades and spoke to Ynari, expressing a new interest in her now that she had demonstrated magic that even she didn’t know she had. He mused out loud that he couldn’t keep one like her in chains, she could rust them away. No, instead, he offered her a deal, one that she couldn’t refuse. Work with him under watch, or die. He didn’t know if she had more magic, but knew she couldn’t do it forever. She knew this too, and accepted his offer, introducing herself as Yasae Ajam when he asked for her name, simply calling herself a foreigner instead of him knowing her true name.
Her duties with Haidar were not so much akin to enslavement after some time, and if it were, it was perhaps the most gilded of cages she had ever seen. Haidar had a gambling addiction, namely linked to gladiatorial and arena combat, an addiction that she would help satisfy. She would go with his entourage as a smith, a seat that she did earn with her skills, and cheat for him. Weaken the arms of the others, and bolster magically those of his own slaves. She would get a cut of the profits, albeit small. It was strange, being under the man’s employ. After years of working with him and getting stronger at her magic, and better at her physical craft, she merged them quite well and resulted in Haidar’s local power rising, specifically when she put her skills to help arm the guard and militia against the bandits. Whether they were the ones who struck her family or not was something she could only wonder. Upon her fortieth birthday, in thanks for her efforts, Haidar offered her a selection of bed slaves of which he had now accrued many, of variety of ages, races, and even genders. You’d think there’d only be two genders in that variety, but you’d be wrong. While they were not her own slaves, she did partake in them, securing her position of power in her own eyes. After all, it was only the powerful that had slaves here, therefore she was powerful to use them, correct?
She would be a friend and confidant of Haidar for sixteen years in total. During these times she would accrue her own powers, although he always made sure to keep her just weaker. She was his mage and a cash fountain, and he couldn’t let her be too well known in that regard. His cheating wouldn’t be well seen. Instead, she was a background figure, holding no official title in the holding, and was seen a slave by many, and even was titled as one despite her pleasant and comfortable accommodations, and her influence. With his favour she was able to go on expeditions for ‘treasure’ and ‘power’ for his holding while she remained under watch of his own troops. In truth these were attempts to find her family again, and in both regards were mostly fruitless save for some small caches of gold found in few caves.
These expeditions were cut short after roughly six years of trying, when more than mere banditry began to organize and rise. Goblins under a powerful mage began to wage wars of liberation, and she was sequestered back to the holding of Haidar to make arms for him and his men, so that they could hold off this stronger invasion after it became clear that stronger holdings still were falling. Ill omens indeed for Haidar, and even for Ynari whom thought that these invaders were just as barbarous as Haidar on a bad day, or worse, responsible for the fate and presumed doom of her family, even if they were a revolution in power thirteen years after she last saw any of her kin.
For three years, the holding was at war with the goblins, and it was through her arms that they fought so well, metal slicing through metal when it shouldn’t be capable of so, pushing back the invaders time and again, until they pulled back for some time to focus on other holdings. Such was a temporary reprieve as when they turned their eyes upon the holding, there was nothing they could do. Her magic was nothing compared to theirs. The siege lasted months before they broke in and began to tear the place apart, freeing slaves and the like. Most slaves and others thought she was a slave too, but there were those that knew she wasn’t. For fear of her life, she had to hide who she was. If they knew, they would kill her. She burned and melted and destroyed any sign of her status however hidden it was. She knew she didn’t get everything, but more so couldn’t, she kept for certain the one memory she truly had attached to her family; the hammer for working heated metals… that, unlike the others, she hid within the some of the empty slave quarters. Later, with knife in hand, she stalked to the cells that held the slaves that knew who she really was. She sent the guards away telling them that they were needed elsewhere… and went in, and killed each slave there before piling their corpses upon each other, disposing of the blade, and in the end tore her clothes asunder and threw herself against the walls and ground to make her look beaten, tearing chunks of her own hair out through tears and screams. She was broken, bloody, beaten, half naked, and truly afraid of her life. Despite this all, she felt she would survive this. She crawled into the corpse pile, and waited.
When the liberators did arrive, and saw the sight, there were few words that they could say. They had already killed most of the slave owners, guards, and warriors there. No one was left alive that they could find who knew who she was, other than knowing her as a slave. The liberators came to her, and liberated. They took this girl, obviously violated and thought dead from the pile, so afraid of everything, and they saved her. How useful it was that she had some skills, apparently enslaved to make things at the forge as a smith, but how horrible they had treated her. No, they’d treat her right. This girl, Ynari, they would treat her right, and they would find her former master, the lord of the holding who had managed to escape.
They tended to her wounds, to her pain, and were far nicer than Ynari was actually expecting. Having been so close to a slave and a slave owner, Ynari didn't have a natural vitriol against slavery as they did, but beyond that they were no worse or better than other people. In her mind, slavery was just a thing, ultimately not good nor evil, it was just a part of life here, not a right, just a symbol of power. But these people, these liberators? They were remarkably good, for invaders. The slaves so freed were genuinely free. They weren’t forced then to join the army, they weren’t forced into work. They were free, and more than that they were helped onto what or where they wanted to go. She was suspicious, didn’t leave when others did. No, she’d stay behind and watch what they would do in their war, and also to regain the hammer from hiding. If they were violent and marauding, she’d take them apart from, the inside if she had to. But, no. They were about as good of people as she had ever seen, second only to her family. Wishful in thinking, but wanting to be sure to remain hidden her true self from them, after some months with them she asked them if they knew of any desert dwarves. She told them that before she was enslaved that she and her family were nomadic traders. Unfortunately, while there were those that could recall the traders from decades ago, they hadn’t seen them in years. They were sorry that they couldn’t help more.
Instead, seeing these people as a force of good if not slightly worse, she took to using her skills to help them after some months. With her aid, however little it was in the end, they secured more and more land, and she was handsomely paid for her help. When things slowed down, she moved into one of the larger holds and made a name for herself for her skills at the forge and anvil. She made more tools for the craftsmen, weapons for the guards, and armours for the nobles of afar, trading with Tuleria some. From there, more and more of the world opened up to her, and yet she remained in the Goblin Holds. They held land that last had her family, and so if they were still surface dwellers then they would likely be there, and if they were dead she could still find and honour them with a proper burial.
Yet, at this point she was not capable of affording such searches for too long. She despite this went on a journey to look for herself, eventually arriving by herself at the shore of the Blood Sea. There she met a man, Jabir al-Ebheredem, who claimed to have been a mighty smith in his youth, but his now wrinkled and old form could hardly lift the hammer necessary to pound metal into shape. The sickly decrepit man pulled at Ynari’s empathy, for she as a smith would hate losing this craft from her father. She told him that she is strong, and that she can still use a hammer as he once could. She offered to to take him back to one of the holdings where he can be well and taken care of. Jabir, however, denied this kindness, saying that he couldn’t leave these shores, he only wished he could again forge upon an anvil as proper.
Ynari felt such sorrow for this man that she returned home to acquire as much of her tools as she could travel with, and visited him again. He was still there, feet in the shallows of the blood as when she first saw him. She set up the anvil, and built a kiln and offered her body as his tool to forge something, refraining from acting in a way against what he said. By his words, she produced first a work of her own, camping out there for weeks as the iron ore became ingots became steel. The bar she produced brought a smile to Jabir’s face, and he offered to teach her one of his own techniques. One of the blood.
The technique of coagulation, charring, burning, and refining were unlike those she had seen before, or nary even thought of before. It wasn’t like she never thought of using the blood before in the process, but this technique was special. It tied into her magic, her Forgecraft just as it did Jabir’s. He was a mage as she was. Through the weeks that followed she practised the technique under his eternally watching eyes. Some part of her was sure this man was not just old, but the way he never stepped from the blood… he was dead.
And when she had finally been able to produce the blood steel on her own, he was gone.
Using the techniques from this, she began to amass some wealth, and make a name for herself, even going so far as to change her name once more, from Ynari the Nameless to Ynari el-Haddad, for she was a talented smith. And with her finances on the rise, she sought out with her own full expeditions to find her family, now fifty and two years old, having been within the Goblin Holds for nearly three years, and it having been now almost twenty years since she last saw any of her family. While she did not know where exactly they were when attacked, she did know where she ended up, and so could corner off where they were likely to have been. Fortunately for her, all the lands that she was to search through were under Goblin Holds, and still a ways from the border with the existing Free Holds.
A full year is invested in combing the desert for any sign of her family, their corpses beneath the sand, or any paths to the Underdark that they may have taken to get away. Her efforts were seemingly for naught, until she did discover, almost half buried beneath the sand what appeared to be a massive door. Far larger than would be necessary for a man, for a giant, or even a full dragon. No, this seemed to be a gate that a legion could march out with banners flying, hundreds by hundreds in blocks moving through. The door was stone, and heavy; it was not perfectly safe from their attempts to mine through, despite the strange ancient and eldritch runes that adorned it. Perhaps there was some connection between this door and the recently banished gods? Or perhaps it was more likened to the hells below.
Was it Destiny, Fate, Providence, or simply chance that she found it, and got within? She doesn’t know who could say for certain, but she did know that as soon as the wall was breached that the servants she had hired to help her get in were not to be the ones to go in. She swore she could feel a call from within, and so she descended a precariously hung ladder down deep into the chamber. With her torch she lit a contraption upon the wall that set the flames spiralling across the walls, lighting the massive stone chamber she found herself in.
She does not know what the name of the chamber is, but to her it became the Vaulted Reliquary. A place that she would mention in her writings and notes as she explored it alone in the flickering light that engulfed it. She was sure that while she descended quite a distance, that the height was still less than what she could see within the chamber. Was it bigger on the inside, or were her eyes playing tricks on her within this subterranean shelter? In either case, there was a simple, lonely tomb in the centre of it, atop a small alter. Curiosity pushing her forward, she opened the stone coffin, and found but few bones and dust within it. Whomever was laid here had been long dead, and while she could not tell for certain, she was sure that she wasn’t the first to be here after it was sealed, and with all the strange eldritch symbols about it it wasn’t certain if it was of the banished gods, or if it was tied to the hells, some ancient magic, or whatever.
She took to securing the spot of the Vaulted Reliquary for herself, keeping it mostly a secret, but such things do not really exist in the world when it comes to something so powerful. The location was eventually revealed to the rest of the Goblin Holds after she had only two years to study within it. While it was more rumour than fact, others did manage to come and look through it as well, but her long stance and influence around it made sure that only those she approved of could get through lest they had to use force against her. Word of her find and fortune spread, of course, and when the time for the Queens’ Blades came, she was both an impressive blacksmith, a skill Forgecraft mage, and one who had shown some aptitude or connection to the great powers of the world. Surely, she could help them, although she did insist on payment, and ultimately, help finding her family.
Motivation: While money certainly plays a part in her motivation, she also doesn’t want hell to spill over. That would suck.
Traits & EquipmentGeneral Traits--
Raw Talent: She didn’t realize this until roughly 20 years ago, but she has true talent with magic.
----
Raw Talent 2: Actually it's pretty damn good.
--
Apprentice: Forgecraft, essentially specialized alchemy. Used in usually one of four ways, bypassing smelting to make usable metal out of ore, or at a greater cost out of stone (such a process is usually done in the field when lacking proper materials); refining and enhancing both the products and the process, speeding it along and increasing the quality of the end good; undoing the work done on other smithed goods, such as tools, weapons, and armours, by rusting them or causing them to fall apart; lastly, channelling other magics into the work. This last manner is the most difficult to do, and the most draining, unless you work with something particularly susceptible to this portion of the craft. In all cases, however, Forgecraft is easier and faster to do than comparable alchemy due to its specialized nature.
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Wells of Power: It is unknown if she found the Vaulted Reliquary because of her connection to the Wells of Power, or if she got connections to the Wells of Power because she found the Vaulted Reliquary. In either case, she’s connected now.
--
Awakened Meditation: It wasn't like she was using a lot of magic to begin with.
Unique Traits--
Forged from Blood: While she keeps the exact manner in which she makes steel in this way a secret, Ynari’s weapons and armours of this make are fairly valuable for both their quality, protective qualities against magic, and the strange organic almost wood-like grain to the metal. She refers to the steel as Blood Steel, and it’s assumed that the Blood Sea is involved in the process by which she makes her products. Things made in this way are easier to imbue with further powers, and can even make mundane persons become proper threats so long as they’re neither too stupid or clumsy.
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Finest Steel: Okay, even if they're stupid and clumsy.
--
Rapid Mobilization: Normally the creation and refining of goods by Forgecraft is a slow, timely affair. It produces incredibly high quality goods in due order. However, sometimes you need a bunch of spears to shoot out of the ground
right now or a shield
right now or to make that bad guy’s armour to rust
right now. These acts are either far lesser in quality, or more draining to perform. Or both. Can also be used to rapidly arm a militia at the last minute with weapons and armours, or munitions.
--
Custom Fit: A far finer touch than Rapid Mobilization, instead of just jutting shit out from things to the ground or at a target, she can quickly arm someone by making the weapons, armours, and tools conform to the person, making works that are perfect for the user.
Equipment List--
Arun’s Gift: An old smith’s hammer. Written in the handle, worn almost to illegible, is “For my daughter, Y”. The rest is scratched out and can’t be read. Ynari says that the rest was just her name.
--
Hammer of the Reliquary: Perhaps not that most respectful use of the contents of the tomb; this item was made with those, quality iron, and blood from the Blood Sea. A mighty hammerhead for her own protection, using it instead of Arun’s Gift in combat in those rare times she fights in combat.
--
Small Dagger: Sometimes there’s not enough room to swing the hammer, or it’s too noticeable.
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Merchant Robes from the Goblin Holds: Light clothing that minimally impairs movement, meant for merchants of the Goblin Holds. Suitably Arabic in style, and perfect for warm weather.
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Merchant Robes from Tuleria: Not as light as the robes from the Goblin Holds, and a bit more restrictive to wear; these robes do show off a higher status to be worn.
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Expedition Clothes: As light as the Goblin Hold Merchant Robes, but more restrictive in movement, they offer better protection against the elements.
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Finery Clothes: While certainly not as grandiose as as the adornments of true nobility, this dress and garb is flattering to the short frame and curves of Ynari.
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Smithing Gear: An assortment of actual blacksmithing tools, garbs, goggles, and more. Also, an actual anvil, but fuck traveling with that thing in your pack. Shipping it’s a pain, even. Cheaper to just get a new one or pay to use one.
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Map of the Goblin Holds: While the map shows the Goblin Holds and surrounding area, it is littered with notes around the Vaulted Reliquary detailing her searches.
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Maps of the Continent: Not in as great of detail as the Map of the Goblin Holds, Ynari does have maps of the continent and trade routes by which she has earned coin before.
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Smith’s Notes: Her own notes from the Vaulted Reliquary, and from techniques she has tried in both magical and mundane crafting, save Blood Steel.
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Cultured Coins: Money changers may be horrible thieves, but if you are to travel, you are going to need the proper coins more often than not. Ynari has sums of money for a variety of cultures available to her from her time as a merchant mage.
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Basic Survival Gear and Rations: Because it’d certainly suck to go around without these things, right?
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Trinkets and Relics: While not usually carried on her, Ynari does own sequestered away from the Vaulted Reliquary, things she has pilfered from it for herself for study and eventual use.
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Caravan: Based on wagons from her youth, and armed with a variety of employees who each seek apprenticeship, this is her preferred mode of travel. Beats walking.
Personal SectionRomance: Yes yes yes!
Does the Kouri Plushie exist?: Yes.
Signature: Yes! Er, I mean, Elendra.