- Name: Konrad - Class: Thief - Age: 25 - Appearance: - Equipment: Iron sword, x1 Vulenary - Personality: Konrad is a cheery and affable man, he does everything in extremes. He fights until to the last nail and teeth, and he drink and eat until he gets sick, and he hugs stronger than any bear ever could. He's really flirty, but he's respect people boundaries if they shoot him down. He's surprisingly understanding if a little rough around the edges. He's might be too casual for some people and might come off as nosey. - Biography: Konrad was born into one of the lesser nobles of Plegia. He cared deeply for his homeland, he loves the people, but he hated the dark and violent history of Plegia and he wanted to help change his own and others perspective of his homeland by helping others and having him change the world. He has always been a troublemaker by his need to do everything big, but he was respected due to him never showing off or putting others down. He learned he was skilled at sneaking around and picking locks, not skills expect from a nobleman but he was really good at it, he never used on anyone outside his family and he always returned his stolen practice. His family sent him away with farewells has he left to find the Champion.

Name: Mako Class: Archer (Advancing to Bow Knight) Age: 21 Sex: Male Appearance: Equipment: Iron Bow Vulnerary Personality: Mako is an all-round-attitude sort of guy. He has his moments of happiness, sadness, excitement and anger. While he isn't keen on sharing anything he's found, he'll probably try to make a good barter for it. He prefers outsmarting the enemy rather than to outright kill them-- but sometimes his tactics isn't the best so he is forced to resort to brutality. He always has a forgiving attitude regardless of mood. Biography: Mako came to Ylisse from the Outrealms. As a result, his clothing appears to be very unique and distinct when within Ylisse's gates. His past is an unknown, although he would occasionally mention a thing or two about how the Realm is similar to his home. His skills with a bow is exceptional for he has trained for many years in his home, acquiring great finesse and form with precise, on-point aim.

Name: Marianne Class: Dark Mage Age: 19 Sex: Female Appearance: Equipment: Tome (x2), Vulnerary (x1) Personality: Marianne is quite the interesting persona to all that happen to stumble upon her. Despite the fact that she’s a Dark Mage and generally looked upon with fear and scorn for meddling in the forbidden arts, she is soft-spoken and polite a good majority of the time. So much so in fact, that she often stresses the proper difference between a lady and a heathen to anyone caring to listen. That being said, Marianne’s favorite topic of discussion would have to be the many ways in which to incapacitate her foes. She’s the kind of person who would gladly explain to you when and how you’ll die over a cup of tea. She does not fear death, claiming that death is only the next stage in Naga’s course. Of course, that doesn’t excuse her rather…odd habits. One such habit seems to be a fascination with eyes. Human eyes, dragon eyes…really anything that moves around in the socket and blinks. Probably has something to do with her covered right eye, though she’ll momentarily drop the regal air and proceed to go into something akin to a panic attack whenever people mention it. And yet despite all of these…interesting features, Marianne is a person that genuinely cares for those around her. That is, those who can tolerate her poetic and morbid nature. Of course, with friendship comes loyalty and protection. The others may be bound by their morality, but Marianne is a girl who is willing to do any and all things for the sake of her friends. Anything…even if it means taking a few lives through dirty manners. Biography: A distant nomad from the land of Plegia, Marianne would rather not speak of her past, though it probably has to do with that eye-patch she’s always wearing. She hasn’t claimed it to be host to any magical powers, so there’s no reason for the secrecy. Even so, she will lash out without thought or reason whenever people question it. Skimming the whole eye thing aside, Marianne’s mother taught her what she knew of magic while her father helped her to eventually read and write, inspiring her to create her own spells. In the present day, Marianne travels around simply for the sake of doing so, finding interest in the stories all around her. Recently though, her interests lie in the current religious crusade going on. Usually not one to get involved in such stupid things like warfare, she remained neutral no more when news of a “Champion of Naga” reached her ears. Now she seeks to meet this hero of the world…if only to strive off her boredom and give her amusement.

1. Name: Kalliope 1. Class: Cavalier (Green) 1. Age: 24 1. Sex: female 1. Appearance: 1. Equipment: Iron Lance, Iron Sword, Elixir x 1 1. Personality: A serious and seemingly humourless woman who takes everything too seriously. She has high expectations of everybody at first and if you expect or surpass it she will respect you and wants to be quick allies. If you fall short of her expectations she will be disappointed by them but she will ask if she could help the person reach their full potential, and she will back off them if they refuse. She tries to see everything with an objective eye, but she is really opinionated and tends to be hot headed and jump into action before jumping. She respects a leader of soldiers since she sees them having good skill and she wants to help in any manner possible. She is diligent and wakes up early, she fixes everything and loves to train herself and others. 1. Biography: Born a merchant family. She has always aspired to be a knight of great honour. Since she could hold a toy lance she trained all day and did her study all night so she could be respectable and both mind and body. In her teens she was trained by a local pegasus knight, she taught her everything from how to use a lance and sword and how to scout, and even to learn how ride on horseback. She was never good at riding aback of a pegasus, she was deeply afraid of heights. She was ashamed of this weakness, but she was assured being a cavalier would be better for her. In her early adulthood, she was picked to be a knight to the local noble she was greatly respected by the soldiers and trainees for her dedication and intelligence, she was also attractive. She was to be sent to help the champion as a show of goodwill. She is honoured to show her skills on the field of war, and to bring honour to her family and herself.

Name: Solanne Class: Mercenary Age: 24 Sex: Female Appearance: Equipment: Iron Sword (x1), Vulnerary (x2) Personality: Bright, chipper, and just overall optimistic, if one were to call Solanne a tomboy, she’d jokingly pound them on the shoulder before saying that they weren’t doing her enough justice. Yeah, she’s one of those girls. To be fair though, her laid-back and happy persona is normally a fresh relief to all the war-mongering going on. It usually takes something truly horrendous or traumatic to dampen Solanne’s burning spirit and joking nature. Did we mention the laid-back attitude? Yes? Good, then now you know that it also takes something incredibly dire for Solanne to be taken seriously. Despite her initial cheery front though, she does admit that her life has been crappy so far. Only the most observant and perceptive can see through her idiotic grin to see the pain swelling up inside. Because of her own past, Solanne is dead set determined to create a future where everyone can smile freely. As such, she is usually one to put everyone, friends and allies alike, above her own well-being. She is fiercely loyal to those she wants to protect and will do just about anything for them, earning her the nickname of “Crimson Hound”. Biography: Ironically enough, most people tend to think of “Crimson Hound” as some sort of deranged killer bent on ending all life. People usually don’t think that maybe she earned the nick-name due to her unyielding loyalty? Oh well. That makes Solanne laugh every time. Hailing from the nation of Valm, Solanne lost both her parents to Plegian bandits at a fairly early age and spent the remainder of her childhood being raised as an orphan. Most children would have caved into depression at that age, but Solanne took her parent’s teachings by heart and desired to help out all that she could. Soon, she was everyone’s “big sister” at the orphanage before finally becoming old enough to wield a sword. Soon enough, she set out on a journey to travel the lands, taking up the job as a Mercenary to provide constant funding to the orphanage. She still visits from time to time, despite her many travels. However, war was always near, and Solanne soon found a new reason to fight when news of the Church of Naga’s Crusades began. Seeking to protect her adopted family from the carnage of warfare, Solanne sought out the supposed Champion of Naga in hopes of ending the violence before it spread to Valm. It should also be noted that Solanne has a history with a certain Dark Mage. Whether or not she’s on good relations with Marianne has yet to be discovered.

Name: Niya Class: Troubadour Age: 19 Sex: Female Appearance: Equipment: x1 Heal Staff, x2 Vulnerary Personality: Niya is not one to talk much, finding her words wasted on most people. Generally only speaking a few words at a time, sometimes far fewer than is appropriate, one could consider her bedside manner as a healer rather lacking. What little she speaks, is made up far more in actions, being a woman that prefers to let actions speak for her rather than hollow words. Coupled with a complete lack of a sense of self preservation, she is one who will have no problem riding her horse into a fusillade of arrows and magical spells to bring a comrade back up to their feet, because its her duty to do so. A sense of duty drives her actions, more so than anything else, although to whom this duty is sworn to is hazy, at best. But still, she will generally heal before harm when it matters, but one should not expect her to be nice about it. Biography: Born to Feroxian family, one would be surprised to hear this on first meeting the woman, but one word or action out of her casts any doubt of that aside. Both her parents were descendents of those who immigrated to Ferox after the wars over 70 years in the past, having progressively grown more adapted to the climate of the land, that much so with their own single daughter Niya. One would have expected a far more warlike occupation for a Feroxian, but her family had been apothecaries and healers prior to their immigration, and all the warriors in a war can only go as far as their wounds allow. Niya was trained in both apothecary and healing magics, usually acting as an attendant at arena battles and with bandit hunting patrols, ensuring battles did not end lethally (Without undue reason), and that the hunters and their quarry made it back alive (For the quarry, not necessarily alive AND well, just alive). Her quiet, harsh exterior was not unduly noticed by those she tended to, as the Feroxian woman provided far too vital of help to worry about her attitude. Spending much of her life either healing, or in the saddle, it was unsurprising that she would eventually not return home, just riding onwards with travelling supplies enough to get her to another land, and do more work there. Duty drove her on, as always. Niya had heard much about the Church of Naga, its teachings and plans for the world. A load of madness, lies, and hatred, the lady had decided quickly. This Champion of Naga, however, did not sound like the rest of the church, on a gut instinct's decision. That, and she suspected War would follow this Champion and whoever he ended up leading and siding with, and that meant the sick and injured would be there as well. So it was a natural fit for her to make her way for warmer climates, following the trail of this Champion of Naga as best as she could, the proud woman high on her horse taking time in each village to mend the injured and cure the sick, never giving a name or purpose, just asking one or two questions, seeing to the unwell, and moving on, earning a monicker of just "The White Lady" on the way.

This is our main antagonist totally not a parallel universe version of Jacob Name: Jacklyn Class: Grand Master Age: 24 Sex: Female Appearance: Equipment: x1 Silver Sword x1 Arcthunder x2 elixir Personality: A hardened and strong young woman, she leads the church's armies as the Grand Master tactician of Valm. She seen wars and horrors beyond the scope of what can be imagined here, however if you get past the bitchy attitude she's generally very nice, a lover of music and the finer things in life. She enjoys most of all however winning and defeating her opponents. She bears a striking resemblance to Jacob. Biography: Having begun serving the church two years ago she climbed up the ladder and is now second in power only to the grand Cleric who many believe is her puppet. Some say she orchestrated this war while others claim she is simply a devote follower. No one knows anything on her history before her arrival whoever it's clear she has made it her mission to capture the Champion and have him stand trial.

Name: Abra Class: Mage Age: 23 Sex: Female Appearance: Equipment: Elfire, Vulnerary (3 uses) Personality: When someone first meets Abra, that person would describe her in one of two ways. One person might describe her as peppy and carefree, trying to look at the bright side of life. Another, on the other hand, would say that she is very studious and has a thirst for knowledge. While these two personalities might seem to class (“Don’t waste a single hour of the day” vs. “I want to read this thousand page book!”), both of them, to a certain extent, are only fronts that Abra uses to hind the pain that she has experienced in her life. Otherwise, she probably would break down crying. Abra was extremely close to Helike (the kind old witch who raised her). If she happens to lose any memorabilia of her foster mother, Abra might become rash in her attempt to retrieve said item. Her witch’s hat possesses a priceless value for Abra, as it was Helice’s last gift to her before Abra’s foster mother died. Trying to stop her usually would be fruitless, unless one could either physically or magically can restrain her from putting herself into harm’s way. And if she could not retrieve it, well, Abra probably would not be in such a chipper mood. Once someone has earned her trust, Abra will be loyal until the end. However, once must first earn this near-unbreakable trust. However, until that level of trust has been reached, Abra keeps at least one eye open, looking out for anyone who wishes to take advantage of her, either for her intelligence or anything else. Biography: 23 Years ago, an infant was exposed in the forest (Greek Mythology style). Nevertheless, some of the forest animals took pity on the child and placed her on the doorstep (Santa Claus is Coming to Town style) of a kind old witch named Helike. The kind old witch took in the child and raised the child on her own (using her magic to compensate for her growing age). Once Abra was old enough, Helike began to teach her some basic, almost harmless magic, like making objects levitate and such. What was surprising to the kind of witch was not that Abra caught on, but at the pace at which she learned. When Abra had exhausted all the spells and incantations that the kind old witch was comfortable with teaching the young lass, Helike had to resort to throwing theoretical books on more advanced topics to hold her over until Abra was old enough to do some more advanced magic. And from time to time (more often than not as she was running out of things to give her young apprentice), Helike would take Abra down to the nearby village so that the young girl could interact with real people lest Abra grow up without any social skills whatsoever. Once Abra had turned 16, Helike finally decided that it was about time to allow her young pupil attempt some more potent magic (of course under the kind old witch’s supervision). Nowadays (I mean modern day Earth), 16 year olds would get excited about getting their driving permit and being able to drive. This would had been the same amount of excitement that Abra felt when she finally was allowed to advance in her magical training. For her whole birthday, the young girl practiced and learned the new material. By the end of the day, she had entirely wore-out Helike, who immediately retired to her sleeping quarters. However, Abra was too excited to go to sleep yet. Therefore, after the kind old witch had went to bed, Abra snuck down stairs and picked out one of the spell books that had been previously off-limits until that day. Once she reentered her room without making a sound, she peeled open the book and began to look for a spell to try. However, as she looked through the book, none of the spells in it looked familiar, or at least her foster parent did not show any of them to her. After taking some time sorting through some bizarre hexes and spells, Abra finally found one that looked somewhat normal. She placed an apple on a plate and tried to make it grown. However, after the first and second tries, nothing happened. She then looked back at the tome and looked over the spell again, double checking to make sure she was not doing anything wrong. When she made a third attempt, something did finally happen. For a brief second, a bright, white light enveloped the young girl’s room. For the next few minutes, she just sat there, listening to see if her light night activities had stirred awake the kind old witch. But fortunately, all the work that they had achieved the past day had worn the old woman out so much that even that flash of light could not wake her up. When Abra noticed that the apple had not been affected whatsoever, she quickly (yet quietly) closed the book and returned it to Helike’s library and returned to bed. The next morning, when she woke up, Abra felt weird. There were not any physical changes, but something just felt off. When she went out for breakfast, Helike was already busy at work making a hearty meal, knowing fully that they both would need all the energy they could get in order to get though another day of teaching and learning. But at the first mention of magic, Abra burst into tears, admitting everything that happened last night. Helike consoled her, telling the young girl that there was no such thing a complete failures, but accidents that allow for personal growth. As the years slipped by, Abra found herself taking care of the old witch more and more as her condition slowly slipped away. For six years, the young apprentice had to go to town to get supplies for the one person who had spent the last several years raising her. The trips began to become more common as the years piled up. Or they did until recently. One night, Helike was bedridden and Abra fell asleep keeping watch over her sick foster mother. Before she passed away, Helike, using the last bit of strength she had, repaired her own witch’s hat, as if it were brand new, placed the hat upon her young apprentice’s slumbering head. With this final gift, Helike took her final breath. Once Abra finally woke up the next morning, her heart was drowned with pain and sorrow when she saw her foster mother lying peacefully in her own bed. What broke her heart even more was that Helikes’ final gift. Finding the hat on her head, Abra knew that Helike was thinking about her when she passed away.

- Name: Dyce - Class: Thief ==> Trickster - Age: 21 - Sex: Male - Appearance: - Equipment: Iron Sword, Vulenaryx3 - Personality: Dyce has an overall kind of flippant personality, wanting to be the center of attention in many situations with people he knows. This usually manifests itself in a surge of dramatic activity, which leaves Dyce in an embarrassed state for a little while after. Most times, these outbursts take the form of a short, yet intense monologue. When it calls for it, Dyce has the potential to be serious, but only in important instances. This is when he will try to depersonalize with himself, to stop from acting out of line. - Biography: Born into Regna Ferox, Dyce was raised by a lower-class family. Both of his parents worked as merchants, and his older sister worked with them, running errands and checking stock. Dyce fell into this line of work as well, but found that the lifestyle was rather lackluster. Looking around, he picked up underground fighting as a pastime, which quickly turned into a means to get some extra money. It seemed that Dyce had a fighter’s blood in him. His smaller frame and more agile style proved to be better than most of the bulkier opponents he would fight against. When it was time for the Khans to choose champions, word of Dyce made its way up the pipeline to the ears of the East-Khan, who was searching for the last few members of his force. Dyce was chosen here to be the among his champions. However, Dyce requested that he would wear a mask, to mask his identity from those who would see, as well as so he could focus on the situation at hand. During the battle, the leader of his force was defeated, which prompted Dyce to take over as acting commander of the team. Under his leadership, the team won a near-loss battle, with Dyce himself finishing off the last foe. He was payed promptly after. This was when Dyce decided that he wanted to make more of an impact. With the word of the Church going around, Dyce set out of Ferox, participating in skirmishes with different factions until he was recruited by the Ylissian forces.

Name: Rylus
Class: Wyvern rider
Age: 34
Sex: Male
Appearance: Emerald green hair, slightly unkempt, and a couple inches long. Dark eyes, hawkish face, and short in stature, with knees bent inward. Wears red armor and rides a red wyvern. There's a large metal "handle" on the back and front of his armor, which his wyvern uses to pick him up and move him.
Equipment: Bronze axe and vulnerary
Personality: Having been a cripple all his life, he's used to being treated like a child. That doesn't mean he likes it. He has somewhat of a big mouth and tends to speak in a taunting manner. When he's riding his wyvern, the spectrum is inverted. He tends to speak down to others and act in a very regal manner. Though he might talk down on some, he never brings up faults that others might have from birth.
Biography: Rylus was born a cripple, his legs horribly misshapen, making it extremely difficult for him to walk. Fortunately for him, he grew up in Wyvern Valley, in a village that lived in harmony with wyverns. His family distressed at his defect, they called on the help of the village elders, who took on a task that was previously unheard of: They trained a service wyvern. A wyvern to care for his every needs, to help him with the simple everyday tasks that he would otherwise be unable to do. Nekkar was his name. A young wyvern with a hide of crimson.
It was a complete success. Rylus and Nekkar bonded and became inseperable. Rylus could ride Nekkar as well as anyone else in the village. Everyone was happy.
But one day, the church came to the village, upset that the elders refused to provide the church with wyverns. They brought a large army, and invaded wyvern nests, taking eggs and capturing young wyverns, killing those that they couldn't manage. The village, normally a peaceful place, had nobody trained in the arts of war. Those that fought back were slain, while others fled. Rylus was of the latter.
When he returned to his village, he saw to his horror that everything was in shambles. Huts burned, bodies laying everywhere, both man and wyvern, and few survivors. Vowing for vengeance, he sought out a merchant, sold what little valuables he still had, purchased his own axe and armor, and set out to avenge his homeland.