Name: Emil Erran.
Age: 18

Personality:
warm and kind-hearted, Emil is a soft spoken young squire with a strong sense of morality and justice. This level headed squire tries his best to stay brave and rational in the face of hardship and adversity, despite his inexperience. Honest and trustworthy, Emil is compassionate and kind, if a little shy and under-spoken. Loyal to a fault, Emil is more than willing to risk himself for the sake of others, and goes to great lengths to defend his loved ones. A very down to earth and grounded individual, Emil's calm and positive demeanor, while bordering on naivety bolsters the spirits of those around him.

Backstory:
Emil, youngest son of the Erran family, comes from a long line of Edessan Knights. Emil, like the rest of his brothers were introduced to the lifestyle of a knight at a young age, and were immersed in their culture from the moment he could walk. The son of a Edessan Knight and his wife, Emil and his brothers were well educated at a young age and were taught manners as well as basic martial skills and knowledges as children. Throughout their childhood, Emil and his brothers would often venture into the town to play with other children. Emil made friends easily, and was known for his gentle and sensitive demeanor, while the rest of his brothers were respected for their various other qualities.

As they Erran children grew older, they were trained in the ways of various weapons, such as the spear and sword, and were trained in horsemanship and riding. After his seventh birthday, Emil was apprenticed to another noble family to serve as a Page, where he would begin to further refine horsemanship and swordsmanship as well as learn the intricacies of reading and writing. A naturally perceptive and intelligent child, Emil was treated well by his host family, and learned much under their tutelage.

The Knights of Edessa, or the Edessan Knights as many know them as. These knights are tasked with serving and protecting the people of Edessa. These stalwart warriors are well known for both their valor and martial skill, despite their relatively small numbers. Every male member of the Erran family had been an Edessan Knight at one point in their life. Emil's brother is among the famed members of the Edessan Knights, and one of the King's personal guards. Each of Emil's brothers has already entered service in the order.

As he turned 14, he became squire to a famed Edessan Knight, where he furthered his training, continuing his work on bladesmanship and horsemanship, as well as learning archery, music, speech, and skills befitting a young knight. Here he learned how to take care of, and maintain armor, how to tend horses and treat wounds. The next several years were difficult, his knight was fair, but strict, and offered him nothing but the most difficult challenges to face.

Now a fresh 18 years old, Emil's journey to become a full fledged knight of Edessan has been cut short by the war. With his lord having sent Emil away with the other youth of the city, Emil is one of the oldest of the youths to leave, and like many of the other older children, has supplemented the sparse number of caravan guards with his own skills.

Skills and Abilities:
Adept Swordsmanship - As a squire, and the son of a Knight, Emil has received martial training in various fields, he is capable with many weapons, but shows the most promise with a sword.
Journeyman Spearmanship - Along with his swordsmanship, Emil has received training with the spear and lance, though it is clear he shows a preference to the sword.
Novice Archery - Alongside his other martial skills, Emil has also been briefly trained in the use of the bow and arrow.
Journeyman Horseback Riding- As a knight in training, Emil is trained on how to ride a horse, fight from a horse, and take care of a horse.
Trained Armor use - Years of training have taught Emil how to quickly don and remove plate armor, and can thus move with more dexterity and quickness than one without training would be able to. He is also well versed on the care of plate armor.
Trained Shield use - Several years of training has shown Emil how to properly brace and use a shield to block and deflect blows.
Novice Cooking - 'Cooking' would be a bit of a stretch, Emil is capable of preparing meat and raw food to an edible state without causing sickness.
Novice Lute playing - The way of the arts, poetry, and writing are often emphasized amongst members of the upper classes, music is especially appreciated throughout Edessa. Emil has picked up a tune or two on the lute in his free time.

Equipment:

Father's Sword, Worn. - An old sword used by Emil's father. Though it is worn and has seen its fair share of use, it remains a balanced and capable weapon nonetheless.

Edessan Half Plate. - a cut down suit of plate armor utilized by Edessan knights and soldiers. Plates protect major parts of the body, while the rest is backed with tough leather under a tunic.
Roark, Horse. - A well bred brown horse named Roark ridden by Emil.

In his knapsack, Emil carries a few supplies, some dried rations, flint and steel, and a few other survival items.

Appearance: Gabby was born with a short, broad build, standing at a mere 5'1. Her shoulders are wide, and she isn't exactly the prettiest of women around, but most wouldn't call her "ugly" so much as "plain." She has blonde hair, a red nose, a blotchy complexion, and olive-colored eyes. She's missing two teeth in the middle-left side of her mouth.
Name: Gabriela "Gabby" Varanus
Age: 18

Personality: Clever, sarcastic, and inquisitive make for dangerous traits in Lucenrai, but Gabby nevertheless possesses all three of them. Her tongue wags more than it should; she's prone to making witty, barbed comments and smirking about it while she's at it. She loves cutting people down with her words, and she hasn't had to learn to deal with the consequences of that just yet.

Gabby is by-and-large a pessimist, though tutelage under good old Marius - her mage mentor - has made her grudgingly willing to help people. Still, she won't help without complaint or without compensation of some kind. She is a firm believer that most people will try to cheat you, and those that don't are going to have something unlucky happen to them. Her glass isn't half-empty - she just knocked it over and decided the question was for idiots who want to prove some point about always looking on the bright side. She hates those idiots.

Gabby has an adventurous spirit whose flame hasn't quite been stoked yet. She craves excitement of some kind; she has a strange fascination with the war on her heels, though not enough to make her deaf to reason (like "run away before you get stabbed by Varyans or eaten by orcs"). She'll take gambles other young mages might not.

"I'm standing here; you're standing there," Gabby has told people in the past. "Let's keep it that way." She doesn't like people getting too close to her property (unless they're buying something of course) and she especially doesn't like it when people hover over her shoulder as she's reading or while she works. A friendly embrace is out of the question. Personal space is big to her, and nobody enters it without a glare... or a lot of trust.

Killing is something that Gabby has done... once. She doesn't want to do it again, but she's promised herself that she will if she has to. She hates it, though, and the act of taking the life from another human being isn't one she takes lightly.

Gabby definitely has a "me first" sort of mentality, and she isn't very keen on sharing or generosity or any of that rot. She'll be helpful, of course, when the situation demands. For instance, she has every intent to contribute to the caravan's success because the caravan's success demands it. Stopping to help some stranger along the royal road, however, is not worth the risk to her. People are generally awful after all. This isn't to say that she's heartless; she knows when someone is suffering and she doesn't want people to suffer. She just isn't sure it's worth her resources, her time, or the risk of being grabbed and stabbed repeatedly in the back.

Gabby also is very good at keeping her promises... partly because she only makes them sparingly. To her, a promise or an oath is not to be taken lightly. She tends to swear by her mentor's grave IF she swears.

Finally, it's worth noting that Gabby loves winning and being right. Likewise, losing isn't something she takes well.

Backstory: Gabby was born to a merchant family with a slowly growing business. They ran a general store in Varya's capital. Gabby's mother would spin clothes to sell while her father handled the store itself; his three employees would get goods from the market for resale, salt meats and make jerky, and peddle unwanted or soon-to-spoil goods in the poorer districts at discount prices. It was a good enough trade to have, and Gabby's father would throw the occasional party for his employees, and he'd subsequently give them bonuses while drunk, but hey: it made them loyal and happy, and it encouraged his men to take him out drinking.

Being a member of the merchant class had a lot of benefits: clean clothes, full bellies, bathing more than once a month, and a bigger house (which, of course, doubled as the store). Gabby enjoyed all of these thoroughly as a child, and she flaunted her possession of these luxuries. She was a nasty little girl. She teased poorer girls about their ragged clothes, made huge gestures and and forced gagging noises as she talked about their smell, and she loved to show them how good she was at reading - something most peasants can't do. Her mother tried to force that behavior out of her, trying everything from beating to pleading to ranting about how the powers-that-be in the heavens would punish her for acting so crass, but nothing really worked. It didn't help that her father thought it was the funniest thing he'd heard, and that he'd engage her in piercing insult contests.

There were a lot of disagreements between Gabby's parents - her father would stay out drinking until morning, for instance, or her mother would angrily destroy something precious of her father's - and those quarrels reached their peak when she was seven years old. Her father found his wife in bed with one of his employees. After much yelling, fighting, and a few broken pieces of furniture, Gabby's mother left the city with the man she'd slept with. Gabby stayed with her father.

Though he was wont to drink his sorrows and anger away, Gabby's father cast the stuff aside at the rousing sermon of a firebrand priest. His new drug became the blessings of the divine, and he spent inordinate amounts of time at the temple. He made donations to the church, too - large ones. His friends joked behind his back that he was still a drunk, just drunk with faith.

Gabby was expected to do as her father did. She went to the cathedral, but her enthusiasm was comparably lacking, and she was inattentive as a worshiper. Her father was greatly displeased, but he felt he could do little to sway her, and so remained disappointed... until, one day, one of the priests at the cathedral noticed her eying some markings on the wall at the end of service. When he asked what she was looking at, she answered "These are meant to keep bad things out, aren't they?" She was right, so the priest found a mage to test her for magical potential - and, oddly, she had it, though her father had no trace of the talent. The mage believed it must have come from her mother.

Her father was offered a sum of cash to let his daughter be taken to be trained as a mage. He accepted, seeing an opportunity to both make a profit and to ensure his daughter had a good education. So it was that Gabby became a mage's apprentice at the age of eight years old.

Her first apprenticeship to a very traditional mage was short-lived; he found her bull-headed and difficult to control. After discussing what to do with her with other mages, another candidate for teaching her was found: a crass old mage with a touch of madness living in a remote Varyan village. This man, Mad Marius, was able to deal with Gabriela's insubordination very easily: he'd simply ignore her or use his magic to punish her in weird ways, like giving her hiccups or pinning her to the wall as he studied some old text. Though unconventional, this manner of punishment was enough to dissuade her antics.

Life with Marius was not easy for Gabby to adjust to. For one, he lived in a woodland cottage near a village full of peasants whereas Gabby was used to having the luxuries of the city and the comforts a little wealth can provide. Secondly, she hated the forest, and she suffered from seasonal illnesses, always growing sneezy and stuffy in the spring. She complained frequently of these concerns and lamented wishing to go home, but Marius would have none of that talk.

Marius had Gabriela perform menial tasks at first: she would purchase alchemical components in town or fetch herbs from the woods; she would clean clothes for hours on end; she would fetch wood for the fireplace; and so on and so forth. Her requests (and demands) to learn magic were quietly and calmly rebuffed each and every time. It wasn't until after several months later that Gabriela was taught her first bit of magic, and by then she was an eager student.

Gabriela seemed to have the most talent for abjuration - the magic of protective wards and warding off evil - so that is what she was taught first. She took to it quickly, and proved even quicker to show enthusiasm when Marius told her she could make a fair profit selling protective baubles to the townsfolk. They started making trips into the village, and longer trips to a nearby city, peddling magical and alchemical trinkets: fireworks, glowing rings, amulets that protected the wearer from bad spirits - small things that were relatively harmless in the hands of the peasantry, so said Marius, and were worth a lot to those without the talent for magic. In this way they made profit, and in this way Marius fostered Gabby's knack for bargaining and persuasion. He also showed her the art of alchemy: how to mix potions, how to identify herbs, how to identify certain poisons, and so forth. Gabby took to this as well, though she had a habit of keeping some dangerous things (like poisonous leaves) for safekeeping.

In time, Gabby's master decided to move to Edessa, having caught wind of the coming troubles and wanting to help. Gabriela did not have such benevolent desires - she only accompanied him so she might learn magic - but as his apprentice she had little choice unless she wished to find a new mentor. She prepared alchemical medicines alongside Marius, created more protective baubles, and started began focusing her studies on more aggressive magics ("Just in case," the old mage told her).

Such lessons continued until Gabriela was sixteen. Her mentor took ill that year, and while he was careful to see a physician as soon as he could, he died of swelling in his lungs, so the physician said. Stricken with grief (and surprised that she was), Gabriela nevertheless chose to stay in Edessa as her master had left her his house on his deathbed. She peddled magical wares on her own for the better part of a year, not quite ready to be mentored by someone else. Making a profit, at least, with her magical skills was a worthwhile way to live until she was ready.

But then war came to Edessa, first from orcs and then from expansionist Varyans. Gabriela was accused rather quickly of being a Varyan spy, so she was tempted to retreat to the Varyan lines; but upon doing so she found herself treated like any other Edessan peasant. She barely managed to escape execution, and she had to kill a young soldier to get away. Now 18 years old, the young mage Gabriela has decided the safest thing she can do is travel away from Edessa and away from the war that is coming. The safety of a caravan, even if her Varyan accent is as clear as day to the others, is something she can ill-afford to walk away from.

Truth be told, though, something in her finds the whole affair exciting.

Skills and Abilities:

Adept Haggling - Her words may not be honeyed, but Gabby is still is great at driving bargains home. She has a real talent for buying and selling goods at prices others can't.
Adept Alchemy - Wonderful potions, poultices and salves can be produced with the proper application of magical talent and herbal know-how. Gabby possesses both of these things. She can make potions that slow bleeding, pastes that eat through wood, oils that make old ladies' joints hurt a lot less, other such things... And fireworks. She can make fireworks. This doesn't make her good at healing people; it just makes her good at making stuff that can be used to heal people.
Journeyman Abjuration - Magical barriers and wards against evil are something Gabriela specializes in as a mage. It is a difficult art to master, but she's well on her way to becoming a full-fledged abjurer. She can create shields of magical energy rather easily, and they're strong, sturdy things. She's also believed to be able to keep evil spirits away, but that may just be superstition. Her only real fault is not being able to keep up a magical barrier for long periods of time, perhaps because she hasn't actually had to yet.
Journeyman Acid Magic - Gabby finds that acid is a wonderful substance to wield. It can melt through wood, stone, and even metal if it's powerful enough, to say little of flesh. She hasn't mastered the art, but she can nevertheless control acid considerably well for a young mage.
Journeyman Light Magic - Just as useful is the ability to manipulate light. While it can't be used to hurt someone - at least not by a journeyman practitioner like Gabby - it can be used in a variety of ways: creating blinding flashes of light, making static illusions, and illuminating a room are all very well within Gabby's power.
Journeyman Academics - Math! Science! Astrology! Gabriela is decently well versed in academia, though it was not the focus of her training like it is with other mages. Still, she's a good reader and knows enough book stuff to be bookish.
Novice Herblore - With the knowledge of alchemy comes a basic expectation to know what plants will help you and what plants will poison you if you chew them. Why would you chew poisonous plants? Yeesh. Gabby knows just enough herb stuff to know what will be good for a potion or salve... (Note: Gabby is meant to be on the lower rung of "novice" in this department.)
Novice Bludgeon Wielding - Gabby knows a bit more about clubbing people than your average untrained peasant. Call it a talent, if one that most wouldn't be proud of necessarily. Her talent hasn't been accompanied by much training, however; but she has had some rudimentary lessons in walloping from a local militiaman in Edessa. Just... not much.

Equipment:

Green focus crystal - A shimmering crystal that Gabriela uses as a focus for her magic. She can cast spells without a focus, but it helps to have something of this nature when she needs to quickly throw up a barrier or blast someone with a spray of acid.
Gambeson - A simple, protective padded cloth armor. Gabby bought this just before being forced onto the road. While it's not as effective as leather or chain or pretty much any sort of not-made-of-cloth armor, it's lightweight and only somewhat difficult to get used to. (Image link: http://www.esford.com/Gambeson/AH6074%20gambeson%20front%20lg.jpg)
Traveling clothes - Simple brown pants with a silver-embroidered blue tunic. This outfit has lots of awesome pockets and belts and stuff that make it perfect for carrying lots of things... like alchemical components, money, or just a handful of sand.
Alchemical components - A few basic goods to make some medicinal salves or blinding powder at short notice. Comes with mortar and pestle.
Morningstar - Hey, everyone needs a weapon, right? This is a simple spiked club used to beat people's faces into a bloody pulp. It may not be especially effective in the young mage's hands, but if Gabby runs out of options...
Gardening knife - A tool meant for cutting plants and stuff. Also can peel tomatoes. Rad, huh?
A small cheesecake - No, you can't have it. It's for emergencies.

Personality: Having grown up first in a woodcutting village, then a fishing village, and then a farm, Dalsarad has a very "get it done" mentality, something his father hadn't so much as taught him as he did exemplify for him. He looked up to his father quite a bit growing up, regardless of his tough attitude towards his son, and Dal doesn't find it unsettling in the slightest that he considers himself to have grown up in his shadow.

One of the more easily defined traits that Dalsarad carries is passion. Whatever the young man sets his mind to doing he does it to his fullest ability until he deems it complete. Stemming from that comes a sort of tunnel-vision, however, and many have observed that there are times where Dalsarad seemingly can't move on with his life over trivial things that he saw as "incomplete". It's also been noted that he has a deep-seeded fear of both ridicule and failure; all of this comes from his father's harsh treatment, but Dalsarad does his best to remain positive about them, saying they're more like "motivators" than "fears".

Because of that, Dalsarad struggles to not take himself too seriously, but to let his actions speak for him, thus eliminating any chance of ridicule or (ideally) failure. This comes off as an almost relaxed or carefree demeanor to others featuring a down-to-earth sarcastic humor. As Dalsarad himself puts it: "I don't care until I do." All in all he could be seen as an ideal person for tedious gruntwork, like running a farm, as he doesn't mind doing it, applies himself at doing his best, and relishes results more than anything.


Backstory: Dalsarad is admittedly well traveled, though not by choice. He was born in a small woodcutter's village named Rowanwood in southern Edessa, and it was here that a small towheaded boy would spend the first seven years of his life. His mother was a housewife while his father was a woodcutter, like most able bodies of the village. As soon as Dalsarad was able to hold an ax his father had him working, hacking at smaller trees or having him climb up to cut off bothersome branches on bigger ones. He would establish small quotas for the boy to uphold weekly, and should he not fulfill him, his son would meet his heavy, calloused, workman's hands. Dalsarad's mother would often protest this, saying it would lead to problems in the future, but the boy swore that he loved his father, no matter what.

After those first seven years the Erborum family moved farther north to central Edessa to live Dalsarad's uncle in a laketown creatively named Blue Lake. To this day Dal can't remember exactly why they moved, but he vaguely remembers his mother acting strange a few months prior. It was in Blue Lake that Dalsarad and his father began work as fishermen under his uncle, who owned a small barge made for lake fishing. More importantly, it was during the weekends where he wasn't on the barge that Dalsarad discovered his love of athletics. He and a few other boys from the town would regularly get together for a few rounds of "boxing" on the beach when the water from other barges soaked the shore. The damp sands- not too soft but not too hard- made for a great arena. Dalsarad feels he practically grew up on that beach. Occasionally the boys wouldn't "box", but would rather play a game they called "Cribbich", wherein stones were thrown at a target with three different sized holes in it for varying values of points. Dalsarad had good aim, and an even better arm. He remembers that when he was in danger of losing, he'd often take the other boys' stones, throw them into the lake, and say it was a draw.

When the barge overturned and Dalsarad's uncle was nearly killed, his family relocated once more, even though they had spent nearly seven years at Blue Lake. They traveled towards the capital and his father used the money he had saved working for his brother to purchase a plot of land to farm. It is here that Dalsarad has lived ever since, not only tilling the fields, but helping his mother with her garden, as well. The young man found he enjoyed the life of a farmer. However, his relations with his father were being challenged. He had recently taken up his son to teach him how to really fight, having been a marshal earlier in his life and claiming proud membership to the local militia. He taught Dalsarad how to correctly wear and use armor, as well as a sword and shield, and even on weeks where the training was particularly intense Dalsarad was still expected to fill his quota, no matter how badly his arms were bruised.

In the winter months, when their farm could reap no harvest, Dal's mother taught him how to read and write, having only recently learned, herself. The young man also frequented the taverns on the outskirts of town, where the boxing rinks were to give the angry drunks something to swing at. With those men and women being most of his opposition, Dal managed to become a somewhat accomplished boxer, renowned to at least the frequent patrons of those inns.

When the Varyan Empire invaded, Dalsarad's mother moved into the city while he and his father stayed at the farm to continue their work, as well as defend it from any sappers or spies looking to damage Edessa's infrastructure. Some months later, Dal's uncle showed up at their door- the one who had nearly drowned back at Blue Lake. He brought with him a large crate which the horse seemed too quick to get rid of. His uncle explained that men and women of the Welds were moving north, masquerading as refugees and that he didn't trust them; he'd been moving north and planned to enter the capital but wanted to drop off an old "marshal's cache" to his brother, Dal's father, thinking his yester-years entitled him to do something about the refugees, namely keep them off his brother's land. Contained within this cache were useless badges, rotten sundries, well expired writs and warrants, and an old set of armor.

When things quickly got more intense, Dal's father forcefully moved him into the city with his mother. They lost contact with each other. With the presence of the Varyans, though, Dal wasn't expecting much, and was making plans to lie about his age and join the military when his mother forced him to join the caravan headed into Ardel. It took a great deal of convincing and consoling, but eventually, Dalsarad accepted and was on board.

Skills and Abilities:

Novice Woodcutter- It was the early part of his life, so Dalsarad had only taken to the profession for a few years before he and his family moved to Blue Lake.

Journeyman Fisherman- Dalsarad was old enough to be taught how to fish from the get-go, so his father had him fishing out on the barge with him four or five days a week. He was never very fond of it, but he still remembers most of what he was taught.

Adept Farmer/Gardener- The life Dalsarad enjoyed most was that of a farming family. Having also been his most recent profession, Dal is good at crowing crops and has some knowledge of flora from helping tend to his mother's garden.

Trained in Armor Use- Dalsarad is trained in the proper use of armor, thanks to his father, who had served as a marshal for a small southern town before Dal was born.

Trained in Shield Use- Anyone can pick up a shield, but it takes training to know when to throw that punch block or how to plant one's self to take a heavy blow.

Novice Swordsman- A facet of his father's training, Dalsarad has been taught some sword techniques, though he hasn't yet had the opportunity to use any of them.

Journeyman Brawler- A hobby that Dalsarad has kept to this day has been boxing. It had kept him occupied during the winter months, and with clever bets, earned him a little coin.

Journeyman Thrower- Coming from his time spent playing one of his favorite pastimes, Cribbich, Dalsarad has found he is naturally good at throwing things hard and accurately. To compliment this, he sometimes practiced with small sharpened branches he improvised as javelins when his father was training him.

Equipment:

Small Shield, Ironwood w/ iron boss- It had been his fathers, but Dalsarad had trained with it so he relinquished it to his son. It's not large enough that one could "turtle" behind it, but not so small that it's useless.

Saber, Steel- A step up from the wooden weapons his father trained him with. It's your regular run-of-the-mill saber, featuring a knuckle guard and a curved blade intended for slashing. When Dal and his family first moved towards the capital, on their new farm, he met up with one of his old friends from Blue Lake, who was in a similar situation. However, his friend being of a very wealthy family meant they were moving into the capital. Nevertheless, the two often went for rounds of Cribbich when they could (It took less time than boxing), and often would place friendly bets with one another. Dal's friend's father was a retired knight and cavalry instructor, and Dal won his old saber after his friend had bet it on Cribbich. He could probably afford ten more, anyway.

A padded jack- Featuring metal reinforcement at the elbows. The accompanying gauntlets are a tad big for Dalsarad's hands, as this armor had once belonged to his uncle, who had been nicknamed "Bearhands". It was this uncle whom had been moving steadily north following the influx of Weld refugees he had grown paranoid of; this paranoia lead to him delivering a cache of old marshal supplies to his brother, Dal's father. Included among the useless old writs and warrants was this set of armor- probably the only useful thing in the box. Being too big for him, Dalsarad was the one to receive it, allowing the boy to put his armor training to a practical use.

Bag of small javelins- Dalsarad purchased these himself. Weighing 700 grams, the wielder can throw these hard without sacrificing too much accuracy.

Leather pack, containing your average travel supplies as well as the following:

• Carrot,tomato, potato, squash, rhubarb, rosemary, thyme seeds. Brought at the behest of his mother.
• Small fishing spear. Unscrews into two "halves" for better portability. It's not as good as the actual thing, and it could never be used to harm anyone, but it catches fish better than empty hands.
• Small gardening tools, with which Dal could plant the seeds he brought.
• Several pairs of leather boots, in which Dalsarad could plant some seeds. Not all of them, certainly, but some of the smaller ones.
• Blade oil and grip wax, which Dalsarad likes to put in his hair.

Appearance:
Askeladden stands at 5'7 with a thin muscular frame from years of hard physical labor and living on the scraps of other's meals. His hair is a pale blonde, more white than blonde, the lack of colour offset by his emerald green eye. When without a patch, his blind eye lacks any visible pupil, resembling a white orb. His cheeks are gaunt and his chin is sharp, as is the curve in his nose. His skin colour is more ashen than white, a product of a poor diet and little sunlight. On his face along are three particularly prominent scars, one running from beneath his right eye to his nose where a broken glass was thrown at his face, a pair of scars runs along the lower bridge of his nose from one of the multiple attacks by a hunter's dogs, a scar above his right eye where a chair was swung into his head as a boy, and a pair of interwoven scars beneath his left eye from the same incident that lost his left eye.

He walks with a relatively straight posture, better than most men his age due to his lifetime of needing to stand in a kitchen. If he had slouched he'd have done a fantastic job weakening his back and making him a weak slave, so he did his best keeping his back and legs strong. His chest has a handful of scars from years of brawling and his back is covered in long slashes from beatings with sticks, chains, and whips from his master Thors. His left arm has a series of scars from his elbow up to the shoulder where he carved his own name into his arm to experiment with the ritualism he had learned of (it worked wonderfully, but was excruciating both before and after the magic took effect). His hands are unusually clean for a slave, a habit picked up from a life in the kitchen, his nail beds being pink and healthy. His hands are rough and firm from the years of work and have a very powerful grip.

His right leg has a deep scar from a knife fight he got into with his mentor, a man he only knew as "Cook". His feet are large and not as healthy as his hands, though before he left The Drunken Mare they were in much better shape. After the journey from the Drunken Mare to the final caravan his feet are largely calloused and rough and frequently crack open and begin bleeding again. It'd likely take weeks for them to heal over, but he doubts he'll ever have the time to rest that long.

The entirety of Askeladden's wardrobe is stolen, plain and simple. His shirt and pants were both stolen off of Thor's body and hang loosely on him over another pair of clothing he had stolen from a hunter that was asleep and unaware of Askeladden's rummaging. The pair of tanned pants, wool shirt, and leather vest fit him much better, the hunter only standing an inch or so taller than him. The pair of black leather boots and gloves he wears were stolen from a drunken soldier who was nearly half a foot taller, with feet nearly the same size. Askeladden makes up for the different in size by stuffing cloth beneath the steel toes of the boots. His cloak is lined with rabbit fur and was stolen from another drunken hunter who was spending the evening with the soldier in a stupor. He hadn't even noticed Askeladden remove the cloak from his shoulders. His outfit likely looks stolen from a multitude of people, but it's the price he had to pay to make sure he had enough clothing to be warm in the winter months. His usual attire of burlap stitched together simply wouldn't have lasted.

Personality:
Being a slave from the time he was a toddler, Askeladden has an inherent work ethic necessary for his survival. If there's a job to be done, he is often the first to work on it, without complaint or mention of it. Askeladden, despite his new found freedom, anticipates beatings from authority figures or those above him at the drop of a hat and will often wince or look away when he is anticipating them. He tends to not speak unless spoken to and even then is cautious of the action. If he feels threatened by someone that he does not see as an authority figure, he will often be the first to strike out of habit.

He lost trust the same day he lost his eye. Kind words and affection are met with great skepticism and if at all possible he will avoid people that he suspects to be trying to lower his guard. He has a love of telling stories and a greater love of hearing them. The way to his heart is to let him tell a story or two, either from his own experiences, or second hand from one of his patrons. Even faster is to tell him a story. His complete lack of education can add a bit of child-like wonder to him when he learns new things or experiences something he's only heard about in stories. Unfortunately, his lack of education also means that social faux pas are often lost on him. At the very least, a life of being dirt poor and having to rely on himself has taught him how to be resourceful.

Backstory:
Son of a whore, he was born a bastard and left with no surname. He was found lying in the dirt behind The Drunken Mare, a tavern on a connecting road between Edessa's capital and one of its southernmost cities. The bastard was brought to The Drunken Mare's master, Thors Brant, by one of the tavern's maids. Brant instructed the woman to care for the infant and have it learn a skill if she wanted it to live. For his dirty appearance, skin gray from the dirt, Brant named him Askeladden or "Ash Lad" in his native language. Askeladden was raised as a regular child for the first few years of his life until the maid began to grow ill. She passed him off to the Tavern's cook and died shortly after. Askeladden can't even remember her face.

The cook was strict, but generally fair. Failures were acceptable once. Any more resulted in a beating, first from the cook, and then from the master. "Everyone fails, only idiots unfit to live fail again," The cook had told him as a young boy. He had learned to take the saying to heart shortly afterward. He first began handling food at the age of four, fetching ingredients for the cook, delivering the small servings and occasionally drinks to patrons. He had begun to admire the cook at that age. The master was his owner, but the cook was the closest thing he had to a father. The cook often spent time speaking to him once the tavern stopped serving food, his words kind and bubbly as he drank himself into a drunken stupor.

He first handled a knife when he was eight, getting to chop vegetables and help with the morning prep-work. Slowly more responsibilities were handed to him until by the age of thirteen he was operating at a level slightly below that of the cook. It was around this age that he was expected to start dealing with the rowdier of guests. Slap them around a bit if they were making asses of themselves or wrestle them to the floor and hold them down until the cook or the master could step in and take care of the guest. The cook had been showing him how to handle himself in a fight after the master requested it. Askeladden also got a chance to learn more about the cook; that he had been a soldier in the Edessa military, that he had been a massive drunkard, that Brant bought him for a nightly allowance of liquor, and that he still was a drunkard. A drunkard that could have trouble controlling himself.

"You think you can fight?" The cook screamed at him one night after Askeladden had broken a man's arm. "This is what they'll do to brats like you!" The cook wrestled Askeladden to the ground and pinned his face against the ground. "I am being generous, boy. Anyone else would take both to teach you a lesson." An object moved into the vision of his left eye and for a moment the touch against his eye was warm and clammy. And then it was just white-hot.

He spent the night curled up in a corner clutching his eye. The next morning he was handed a bottle of alcohol and a handful of bandages and was told to take care of it and get to work. Brant never questioned what happened to Askeladden. The cook never brought it up. Askeladden never walked without a knife again. Two years later Askeladden ran the kitchen alone, the cook dead and left in the woods after he came at Askeladden one night with a cleaver. His tears for killing the cook were beaten out of him by Brant. With the cook dead, Brant took on the role of the punisher for Askeladden's mistakes and did his best to make up for the cook's absence. Over the years Askeladden learned to cook with a broken arm, broken ribs, fractured hands, and a near swollen over eye.

One night Askeladden saw a man writing on a piece of parchment at the tavern and stared with fascination. The man offered him a lesson either out of courtesy or pity and he accepted whole-heartedly. Askeladden went on to practice writing in his free time, despite having no idea of how to read what he wrote. Parchment was expensive, as was ink, so he made do with what he had. Pigs blood as ink and either apron or his skin as parchment. In one of the many attempts to write his own name on his arm, he found himself on the ground clutching his wrist, holding back cries of agony as his skin felt as if it were on fire. The tankard scribbling on his arm began to faintly glow and a sensation grew with him that felt oddly familiar and horribly cold as if he were laying in a bed of snow. Brant entered the kitchen and looked around for him, walking past him, screaming and fuming that he could neither find nor hear the slave. When the strange feeling abandoned his body, he collapsed to the ground and emptied what little content he had in his stomach into the pot. The beating for slacking off and dirtying a pot was almost dwarfed by the excitement of what he just discovered. Almost.

When the call for the caravans came, Brant forbid it. Brant wanted to profit off of the invading forces needing a place to stay. Askeladden cracked him over the head with pan and beat him until he stopped moving. And then he ran.

And he ran until his feet bled.

And he ran some more.


Skills and Abilities:
Untrained Ritualist - When Askeladden was still attempting to learn to write, he often would use whatever he could to learn. Ink was a luxury for someone like him, so he turned to animal blood when it was available. Parchment being equally difficult to find required him to write where he would not receive a beating for. His apron, his clothing, or his own skin. It was by accident he discovered anything at all when attempting to spell his name on his wrist. The clumsily written letters burned on his skin like metal out of a flame and with that came a new sensation he had never experienced. The manager walked into the kitchen looking for him and passed right by, unable to see or hear Askeladden. The moment the unfamiliar sensation disappeared, he fell ill and expelled the contents of his stomach into a nearby pot. He was beaten severely for hiding from his master and for dirtying a pot.
Untrained Reader & Writer - Askeladden was not trained to read nor write and had to make do with picking up whatever he could from patrons.
Novice Storyteller - Every man has a story and in Askeladden's line of work, he often hears every story a passing drunk/traveler/hunter/soldier/mercenary has to share. People tend to get eager to share when good food and flowing mead is at the ready and Askeladden always has an open ear to the patrons. He's also gotten particularly good at remembering other's stories, but he still needs work on telling them.
Adept Brawler - Not every fight in his life has been with a knife and prior to losing his eye, he had fought with his hands. He once used a chair in a fight and was beaten relentlessly by the tavern owner for damaging the owner's property, forcing him to rely on only his own hands in a brawl. He's best when fighting someone larger than him, speed being his biggest asset in fights. If there's not a tremendous difference in size, he would tend to try and pin them to the ground and either threaten to break something or, in some cases, in fact break something.
Journeyman Medic - For someone as prone to beatings as Askeladden, learning how to patch himself up was a necessity. Askeladden can treat most cuts, nurse broken bones, sew wounds, properly clean wounds, and prevent infections.
Professional Knife User - Askeladden understands how to properly and efficiently use and maintain a large variety of knives, ranging from a paring knife to a cleaver and everything in between. His time with a knife has not solely been for cooking and butchering, but for defense as well. Askeladden has been in many fights through his life, a fact of life when dealing with drunkards on the regular. He's been in more knife fights than he's comfortable admitting, but it has left him a competent fighter capable of protecting himself.
Professional Cook - Much of his life has been spent in the back of a tavern whipping up food for travelers. He's well versed in a wide variety of foods, having prepared many game animals brought into the tavern by hunters, as well as every livestock to walk Lucenrai. Askeladden is well versed in making meals from scraps, having to rely entirely on scraps left over from patrons to feed himself, as well as whatever he can steal without drawing the eye of the owner. As long as it's still edible, Askeladden has both prepared and eaten it or can figure out how to.
Accomplished Butcher - When a group of hunters drag in a bear carcass and demand that it be ready to eat by that evening, Askeladden is the one in charge of making that a reality. He's able to skin and hack apart most Lucenrai wildlife with ease. He's learned to navigate around stubborn muscles, how to peel off furs without damage, and how to remove, organize, and prepare every bit and piece of wildlife he's ever had the chance to spend an afternoon hacking up. He highly recommends a dish of his invention involving sheep's stomach, liver, heart, and tongue. To this date not a single person has taken him up on the offer.
Accomplished Butcher of Names - No names are safe from Askeladden's horrible language skills. Unless corrected, he will expertly carve up and destroy names without even attempting to. Even if corrected, he's likely to only get it more wrong.

Equipment:
Burlap Sack - Two straps have been sewn on. Large enough to hold a horse's head.
Leather Knife Roll Bag - Used to hold the knives Askeladden ran off with. Made by his own hands.
Meticulously Sharpened Varyan Steel Knives - The majority of his knives are made of iron or steel. His selection includes: Chef's, Cleaver, Paring, Boning, Serrated, Butter, Peeling, and Carving.
Honing Bar - Used to straighten knives. Made of iron. Stored in his pack.
Sieve - Used to properly wash herbs and vegetables. Shallow and uses of a mesh of burlap.
Pestle & Mortar - Used for grinding herbs. Stored in his pack.
A bottle of whiskey wrapped in bandages - The alcohol is meant purely to clean infections and the bandages are nearing their third year of age. Washed carefully, they still have some stains from previous wears.
Sewing kit - For maintenance of equipment and maintenance of self. Running low on unused thread. Most is recycled from old wounds. Smells of alcohol.
Eyepatch - Black, sheep's skin leather, soft, aged. Only worn during the day or when before a flame, Askeladden's blind eye being sensitive to light and heat.

Appearance:



Name: Elya Aven
Age: 16

Personality:

Children are odd little people, really, especially those who, when a bit older, will inherit the earth. As an heir to a throne, the first in line, the princess Elya Aven is just as you might suspect. She is simply a spoiled child, who does not yet know much of the world she is expected to one day rule.

Lovely though she is, the girl has always led a privileged life. Due to her lack of any real suffering, she has never built up a tolerance to pain, be it physical or psychological in nature. If anything goes wrong in her life, if a mean word is spoken, or harsh action taken against her, she often meets whatever it was with a severe equivalent. If she is unable to do so, the girl retreats into herself, as if a turtle retreating into its shell. Despite this lack of tolerance, though, she is rather bold and brave, often brazen; she does not let her fear hold her back unless she has truly been injured in such a way that she cannot fight back.

Her world is very narrow, as is her understanding of it. She is conscious of this, though, unlike many young ladies her age. Well aware of her lack of any real knowledge pertaining to life, Elya constantly strives to learn more. The world, to her, is an open book, filled with words begging to be read. She fulfills this hunger for new knowledge through actual books, anything she can find, and through conversation with any person willing to speak to her.

Backstory:

The Queen went into labor on a nice, pleasant day, in the middle of spring. Her family’s sigil, a rose, intertwined around a sword, became symbolic on that day. The blood that dripped from her, upon the birth of her child after a full seven hours of labor, was as painful as the stabbing of a sword, and as beautiful as the reddest rose. The baby cried and cried for hours; the wet-nurses attributed this to her father not being present, as he was meeting with one of the Lords in the southern areas of Edessa at the time. A raven’s note brought him back to see his newborn daughter, as the sun was setting. Elya, he named her, after his mother, as they both shared the same golden-blonde hair- though Elya’s was merely a tuft.

It did not take long for the child to reveal herself for who she was really like- her father’s uncle, who had died in a duel long ago. This fierceness that presented itself in the King's daughter was not unexpected, nor was her passion for life. However, her attitude did lead to that which was unwanted, namely, the specific yearning for power. Even as a small child, Elya was troublesome. Interrupting the meetings of her father's council, disrupting intense discussion as she wished to take part, she became known to her father's closest advisors as a nuisance, while her father simply recognized her wish to understand his work. Unlike his advisors, King Johannes loved his daughter all the more for this.

At the age of twelve, Elya was determined to become a knight. She begged her father to allow her to squire for one of his many young knights, to let her learn from them both combat skill and the meaning of honor. He insisted, however, that a princess's place was not one of servitude. Instead, he suggested that if she truly wished to have power one day, she should strive for political power; she should pay more heed to her history lessons and the like, so that one day, she might serve as an advisor to her king, whoever that would be. This sparked a new interest in her, as she spent increasing amounts of time in the castle library, studying the histories of man to better her understanding of the world.

As she grew older, Elya became secretly infatuated- not with a boy, but with the south. Their traditions, their fashions, their everything was fascinating to her. The wild people seemed to have more freedom than she could ever dream of, and that excited her more than anything else in the world. The idea of getting lost in the middle of a forest, to spend her days running free, was almost more appealing than someday sitting alongside a King. The south lost its distant allure, however, when she walked in on a council meeting in which a representative of the Welds was pleading to her father for his aid.

Gradually, the city received more of these refugees of the south, bringing with them stories of the horrors down there, of the beasts who had driven them from their homes. Elya saw her home as they did, at this point- the only safe place in a world of danger. However, her perception began to change when she learned that the refugees were followed by the Orcs. When one slaughtered a Lord's keep, her father set up a caravan for her to leave. Elya, stubborn as ever, refused to leave her father's side, insisting that unless imminent danger was present, she would not budge.

Upon the word of the Varyan attacks on their lands, Johannes finally convinced his daughter that she needed to leave. Elya was about to set off with her mother, when a raven came, bearing a threat from the Varyans. They had taken hostage a cousin of Elya's, her mother's sister's son; though an unimportant boy, he was still royalty. Elya, to her father, was even more important- he paid the ransom for his nephew, but could not bear to think what would happen should Elya be found, and taken.

Elya was given a scroll marked with her father's unbroken seal, meant for the leader of the Ardel people. While others took refuge in the north, Elya would be made a temporary ward of the Kingdom of Ardel. It would not be safe for her to travel with a royal company, with the threat of the Varyans who might take her hostage if her identity was discovered. Her recognizable blonde hair was dyed a dark brown, her lovely gowns and jewelry replaced with a commoner's clothes and cloak, and she was given a temporary name.

Elya was placed in one of the final caravans- it took much convincing to get her to leave, on her father's part. She was given a small sword, much smaller than any a knight might carry, to defend herself; thin, and only the length of her arm. A Mithril sword, it was crafted specifically for her. Rather than a sheath, it was to be hidden in a staff, a walking stick, a deception. She is claiming to be a mere scullery maid of the royal household, so as not to attract attention.

Skills and Abilities:

Novice Dancing - Even though she has been taught for years the arts of dancing, Elya does not take to it well. She can walk gracefully, but her dancing skills are not very advanced at all. She is, however, rather flexible, but not enough to make a difference with her dancing skill.
Novice Sewing - Similarly, her lessons in sewing have not gone well. She is not able to embroider anything more complex than simple letters; her skills mainly translate to mending, rather than aesthetic value.
Adept Swordsmanship - Despite being told she could not take lessons, Elya befriended (or rather seduced) a few squires, and they taught her a bit about defending herself with a sword. She knows just enough to hold her own in a fight against one attacker, maybe two for a limited amount of time.
Adept Horse riding - Despite being refused the opportunity to become a squire, Elya was still allowed- in fact, encouraged- to learn to ride. She took to it quite well, and has her own horse, named Nimerya. She is particularly skilled at maneuvering horses through difficult terrain, as well as being able to calm them with relative ease.
Professional Diplomat - As she has spent so much time around her father's council, and all of her free time pondering over books concerning political theory, Elya has become a rather eloquent speaker when necessary.
Professional Viol playing - From the age of three, Elya was taught the art of the Viol. The stringed instrument is her favorite, as the music it makes sounds almost like that of a human voice.
Professional Gittern playing - To accompany her voice as she sings, Elya picked up the Gittern around the age of eleven. Having an aptitude for music, she learned rather quickly.
Accomplished Singing - From a young age, Elya has developed her naturally beautiful voice, studying music theory alongside her other lessons. Being talkative translated well to music, as she learned quickly. She knows many traditional hymns of Edessa, but much prefers folk songs of foreigners, and improvisation.

Equipment:

Thorn; Small Mithril Sword, New - A gift from her father, the king, concealed in a staff, rather than a sheath.
Nimerya; Horse, Brown - A gift from her mother, Elya has had Nimerya for years now.
Tiara, Golden - Hidden in her bodyguard's bags, Elya smuggled with her a favorite tiara, as she did not wish to leave behind all of her pretty things.
Viol and Gittern

Name: Sir Odran Tarus
Age: 49

Personality:
A gruff, no-nonsense, knight with a stone for a heart and the irritability of a boar. With battle scars to fit his rough personality, Odran has twice the bark of your average training sergeant, with only half of the compassion. That being said, it has been noticed that Odran has a soft spot for younglings- though he'll bash in the head of anyone who says that aloud. Odran, due to his experiences in war, is rather xenophobic, and distrusts the Welds.

Backstory:
A battle scarred veteran, Odran has served in several wars against the Kingdom of the Welds. Formerly the Captain of the King's personal guard, he served for a time as the trainer of the King's bodyguard before he grew too old and was held back by his injuries. Serving as one of the King's most trusted advisors, Odran was Johannes' first choice as a bodyguard for his daughter. Due to his old injuries, Odran has lost some of the strength in his left arm, and walks with a noticeable limp in his right leg.

Skills and Abilities:
Professional Swordsmanship - Formerly regarded as one of the best duelists in the kingdom, a combination of Odran's injuries and age has reduced his overall skill with a weapon. He is however, still valuable source of knowledge.
Trained Armor use - - Despite his injuries, Odran is still capable of wearing and using armor in combat.
Professional Horsemanship - Due to his injuries, Odran prefers to ride as opposed to walking when possible. As a veteran knight, he has been riding for a long time.
Adept Diplomacy - Having served as one of the King's advisors, Odran is aware of the power of diplomacy in solving conflict. He also recognizes that in his age and state, diplomacy may occasionally be a better option than the threat of force.
Professional Weapons & Armor Knowledge- Due to his weakened arm, Odran is no longer able to effectively wield two handed weapons or heavy shields. Despite this, he is well versed on the strength's and weaknesses of different weapons, as well as different techniques. He is also knowledgeable on armor and its weak points.


Equipment:
'Andorval', orichalcum: An old sword that has served Odran for many years. The Andorval is forged from Orihalcum, also known as Orcish Steel and is considerably tougher than the average steel.

Edessan 'Quarter' Armor: - A lightened version of Edessan Half Plate armor. This armor, often dubbed 'quarter' armor, by soldiers and mercenaries, removes the armor plates from the offhand shoulder and upper legs. This removes a considerable amount of weight and opens up the mobility of the wearer and is often used by duelists, as well as mercenaries and soldiers short on money.

Horse - A regular horse for Odran's use.

Odran also carries a small knapsack carrying various survival materials as well as documents and papers.

Appearance:

Source: http://nixxical.deviantart.com/

Corra is somewhat shorter than average, and has a very slight build. She is thin, though not quite gaunt, with lean muscles that are hardly noticeable. She is extremely pale and has a fair complexion, with waving smoky brown hair that falls to her shoulders and gray green eyes.

Name: Corra Valerrus
Age: 17

Personality: Corra is extremely quick-witted, and while not formally educated in things such as reading or writing, she is extremely intelligent, and a very fast learner. Corra tends to be sarcastic and has a rather macabre sense of humor. She enjoys interacting with others and is usually lighthearted in her mannerisms, but often avoids showing her true feelings. She believes that at their hearts, everyone is only out to help themselves, and tries not to become attached to others. Having lost her mother at a young age, she sees most relationships as temporary, and has trouble forming meaningful connections with anyone. She is very observant, and distrustful. Corra has an easy smile and a talent for lying. She can be very friendly and persuasive, and can blend in or stand out in a crowd as she pleases. At her core she is a survivor, and trusts her own senses. Corra often tries to avoid confrontation when possible, and learned to shut off her feelings when necessary.

Backstory: Corra grew up in one of the poorer neighborhoods of the capital city of Edessa. The child of a sickly herbalist and an unknown father, Corra was accustomed to hard times from an early age. Her mother’s illness made it difficult for her to support her daughter, and like many of the young, hungry children crowding the city’s streets, she soon began picking pockets and stealing bits and pieces from local merchants. Her mother, while physically weak, did her best to ensure that Corra was cared for, and often sang to her when her voice was strong enough. The nights spent falling asleep to her mother’s voice are some of Corra’s most cherished memories.

Corra’s childhood had been one of relative peace if not relative ease, but soon her mother’s condition began to worsen. It was Corra who then sang her mother to sleep, and though she always swore that Corra’s voice made her feel better with every note, no song was enough to stop her mother from dying. She was nine years old at the time, and soon found herself in the city’s worst slums as the landlord kicked her out of the small apartment she had shared with her mother, leaving her nothing but the worn clothing on her back.

The first year was the hardest, and Corra could barely keep herself from starving, stealing what she could and occasionally taking whatever work she could find around the city. It wasn’t until a local gang of thieves took her in that her survival was no longer in such a constant state of doubt. Running with this group of young street urchins like her allowed her to learn a few new skills and improve on some she already had. They taught her how to pick locks, scale buildings, and move unseen through a crowd. Kids like them were practically invisible to the rest of the city, and it meant that they could easily get away with all kinds of small-time theft without much worry about the city’s guards.

When some of the older kids in the gang began to be a bit too ambitious, everything started to go downhill. The jobs they did became riskier and more dangerous, but Corra stayed on. They were breaking into a wealthier merchant’s house one night when everything fell apart. Despite their planning, the group was caught and a fight between the merchant and one of the older kids in the group quickly ended in panic and the merchant’s murder. With the popularity of the merchant among the public, the guards quickly tracked them down, and the gang split up, each kid only concerned with himself. The leaders ended up behind bars, and most of the kids left the city, not wanting to attract any trouble. At fifteen, Corra found herself alone once more. However the city moved on, and she had to as well. She had long since realized that all relationships with other people were only ever temporary.

Corra began to work on her own, breaking into houses and stealing what she could fence quickly. She moved quickly, and worked efficiently. By now her skills were enough that she could get by comfortably enough, and thieving was what she knew. Now seventeen years old, Corra has come to realize that her best chance of surviving means getting out of the city she has lived in for all her life, but she’s prepared to move on if she has to, and thus finds herself among a caravan of refugees.

Skills and Abilities:

professional lockpicking - Corra is very dextrous and has strong senses. With a great deal of practice over the years she has become rather accomplished at getting past most locks, and this skill has been essential to her career as a thief.
adept climbing - Corra is light and agile, and has scaled countless building in the city to sneak through an open window, no matter how many stories up it may be.
adept acrobatics - Corra is very agile and fast.
novice hand to hand combat - Corra usually tries to avoid fighting in general, but can be effective when she needs to, and fights dirty.
novice knives - Corra was taught how to fight with a knife by the other children in the streets, and while she has only done so on a few occasions, she can hold her own with a dagger in hand.
adept persuasion - Corra is a talented liar, and very good at understanding and convincing others of whatever she needs.
adept singing - Corra has her mother’s voice, and often sings to feel close to her. She learned to love singing, and can often be found humming quietly to herself as she picks a lock.
adept pickpocket - Corra has a light touch, and has been lifting coin purses and other bits and pieces off of those wandering through the city’s streets since she was very young.

Equipment:

lockpicks, steel - Corra always keeps one set on her person, and an extra with her belongings. They are a well-made variety of picks.

dagger, steel, old - This item was stolen from a stranger at a tavern years ago.

coil of rope - Basic rope kept for a variety of uses.

brass knuckles, worn -This cheap weapon was purchased from a local vendor.

mask, cloth - This black cloth mask can be worn to cover the bottom half of Corra’s face.

Name: Vitoria Briar
Age: 18

Personality: She is a very kind person, and will often go out of her way to try and make someone’s day, she enjoys seeing people smile. She is slow to anger, and quick to forgive. She is a loyal friend and very cunning in the face of adversity, coming up with plans that would seem childish in their simplicity but prove her instincts are spot-on. She’s very good at reading people, and at estimating how any situation would most likely turn out. People just naturally feel comfortable with her around, they are glad to call her a friend.

Backstory: Vitoria is the only daughter of a slightly upper class family that lived in the countryside around the capital city of Edessa. She had two older brothers, who are now fighting in the war, and one younger brother who travels with her. Her parents were healers, her mother able to use healing magics and her father well-versed in the arts of physical healing. Both her parents are busy tending to those wounded in the capital city.

Her family ran a small clinic out of their home, and Vitoria loved to help out in any way possible. Often, she would be tasked with cheering up a patient, or keeping visitors calm. She often mimicked the things she saw her parents doing to help the patients, and her parents acted upon that show of interest, training her to become a healer just like them. She learned quickly, and soon found that she genuinely likes to help people.

By the time she was 12 years old, she was a good nurse. She had wonderful bedside manner and was always able to get the patient to cheer up. She was well-liked in the area, and her family's clinic grew in popularity as word spread of the good atmosphere and good care. When she turned 15, she and her mother found out about her magical ability, healing like her mother along with the ability to harm in the same way.

The ability she has to harm scares her, and she sometimes tries to pretend that she doesn't have the ability at all. Because of this, whenever she practiced her magic she would only use the healing ability, leaving her fairly good at healing, but still very, very bad at controlling any of the harming ability.

She doesn't like the thought of hurting people, and now as one of the older people leaving Edessa, she's forced to carry a dagger and a bow so she can help defend the group if needed. She can use the hunting bow she carries, but she doesn't want to. She learned how to shoot because of childhood competitions between her and her older brothers.

Skills and Abilities:
Adept Healing magic - She can create apple-sized balls of Healing energy and throw them about 10 meters before they fizz out, Whoever they hit will get a small boost of energy and wounds will heal quicker for about an hour. She can focus this energy onto her hands and heal major wounds quicker by touching the person or holding her hands over the wound, she can keep this up for about 15 minutes before she tires, and in another 5 minutes will pass out. This magic cannot cure poisons, but it can help draw them out, and she cannot use this ability on herself.
Novice Harming magic - She can create apple-sized balls of Harming energy (the opposite of Healing energy) and throw them about 3 meters before they fizz out, Whoever they hit will get a burning sensation across their body and will bleed where the ball touched them. She can also focus this energy to anywhere on her body, extremely intensifying the pain felt by anyone who touches her like that. As far as she knows, she can only use short 1 or 2 minute bursts of this.
Journeyman Barrier magic - By mixing Healing and Harming energy she can create a wall of sorts, the larger the wall, the shorter the amount of time that she can keep it up. A wall about the size of a door will last about 10-15 minutes before she tires, and in about 3 minutes after that she will faint. The wall can't move, but she can, so long as she focuses on keeping the wall up she could protect someone for a while and she can go on ahead with a group at the same time, she can't get too far away though, 100 meters is about the limit.
Professional Traditional healing - She can set a bone in minutes, and get all the poison out of a wound. She knows how to wield a scalpel and stitch a wound together with precision and has a good amount of knowledge about the medicinal herbs across the country.
Trained Nurse - She knows how to deal with a patient and how to keep others out of the way when she's working, she also has good focus in any medical situation.
Trained Caregiver - She is good at keeping young children in line and at negotiating with older children due to helping raise her younger brother.
Journeyman Archer - She's a fair shot due to the games she played with her brothers, but she won't shoot people if she doesn't have to.
Adept Cooking - She is a good cook, even in the wild.
Singing - She will sing children to sleep and sing just for fun. She has a good voice.


Equipment:
A Dagger - She has no idea how to wield it and will most likely use it as an extra tool more than as a weapon.
Homemade Hunting Bow and Arrows - A bow she made with the help of her two older brothers.
Sewing Kit - Along with threads and needles to mend clothing, she has special thread and sutures to sew people together too.
Assorted Bandages - She has many, and always keeps some on her person.
Sharpened Scalpels - One with a larger blade for worse or deeper wounds, and a smaller one that she keeps on her person at all times for quick care of a wound and bloodletting poisons from the system.
A Bottle of Alcohol - for cleaning wounds and tools.
A Knapsack - holding a few keepsakes and a change of clothes for her, along with a smaller bag for all of her medical supplies and as many rations and such she could bring.