Name: Wilton 'Wilt' Grady
Nickname/Alias/Title: "Iron Mad" Grady; Sarge; Captain
Sex: Male
Age: 44
Race: Human
Occupation: Sky Captain of the Aleph Null

Past: Wilt was born and raised in a farming village called Little Colby, days west of a small town days west of a small city days west of anything you'd recognize marked on a map. Little Colby was locally known for its apple orchards, and once a year its Harvest Festivals would see farmers and villagers from near round gather to celebrate a successful season with barrels of applejack, pies, cheeses and sweets. Aside from the occasional farmer getting drunk off too much applejack there was never much call for law, which meant that Wilt's father, the village lawman, had plenty of time to teach his son. Not only how to use caith artifices like firearms, and other skills a lawman needed, but more importantly how to read and write; how to question what he heard; judge men by their actions; and how to stand for what he believed in and make his word count.

So at twenty-four when the recruiting officers came by looking to enlist able-bodied men for the Sorrowars - when the inscrutable Gygr people descended from their mountainous homes and ransacked half an empire - Wilt was still young enough to long for the adventure of war, and educated enough to be made an officer. The next year his training developed further as he learned to read terrain, read maps, learn the skirmish tactics the Gygr favored and how to counter them. As a Sergeant he spent four years leading a team of men, learning to enforce discipline, how to use his men effectively while building the right crew for any given job. He also saw how little his men were paid, under-equipped and overworked. Saw his superiors continue to underestimate the enemy, continue to replace the seasoned officers and generals with noblemen who saw the war as a way to advance their interests in the court.

At thirty, nearing the end of the Sorrowars, Grady's unit was placed under the command of another wet-arsed nobleman who hadn't seen any fighting save through a pair of oculars or as tokens moving on a battle map in his officers' tent. Despite hostilities winding down, the officer demanded to lead a raid through Gygr territory, taking Grady and 20 of his men beyond the established perimeter at night. Only four soldiers returned the next morning, with neither Grady nor the nobleman among them. The tale was told about the men being ambushed, surrounded, yet exhorted to fight on by the officer even as Grady called to fall back and regroup. After the battle, with 14 dead soldiers and only three giants to show for it, Grady snapped, beating his CO to death with his bare hands before abandoning his surviving men.

Present: Grady has spend the last fourteen years on the seas and skies of Oceanica, going from swabbie to eventually captain of his own vessel, the Aleph Null. As captain he prefers to go after cruise ships, luxury yachts and other high-end prizes. He says it is for the easy payoffs, even if the scores are fewer and farther between than some would like, but deep down he is simply continuing his fight against the noble class that in his mind butchered his men and caused him to abandon his duty and disgrace his family. He is a bitter man - he has always seen himself as better than the pirates he works with and now leads, and the shame and impotent rage warring within him have hollowed him of his nobler attributes. He is still a good leader with a smart tactical mind, especially for skirmishes and ambushes, and he believes he has the loyalty of his crew, which he tries to run with a military air.

Grady is a large man, though not exceptionally tall at 6'0" he has a hulking frame - wide shoulders, strong back, thick limbs and large hands. He wears his graying hair long and loose, but keeps it trimmed, along with the neat beard he maintains daily. He still wears the trenchers uniform of his officer's days, though all military insignia have been removed. Knee-high leather boots, dark trousers held up by braces, buttoned shirt and high-collared coat, and the thick knee-length trencher's coat of dark gray. The nickname he earned as an officer, "Iron Mad" Grady, refers to his penchant for wearing two firearms and two trench knives at all times.

Future: Grady's current aspirations are to continue his one-ship vendetta against the noble classes, and insulating himself in his mind so that it is his ship and his crew against the world. In his more private reflective moments he longs for the family life his father had - a simple honest job in an upstanding community, a loving wife and doting children.

Skills: Grady is a skilled soldier in both hand-to-hand fighting and some ranged weaponry. He has a good mind for small-scale tactics although he trusts his Sailing Masters to make the right choices in combat, because he tends to focus more on the man-to-man fighting than ship-to-ship. He is good at training, leading, and promoting skilled people around him. In fact, although sky pirates have no organization beyond sailors sharing stories at bars in Havenstad, word-of-mouth is that if you've worked with Grady for long you can find work on any ship in Oceanica.

Strengths: [Attack; Intelligence] - Grady likes to hit hard. Whether with his fists, his ship's cannons or with his words, he goes with everything he's got and trusts his actions to start and end fights quickly. That being said, he's smart about when and where to fight - it's hard to catch him off guard or force him to fight unless conditions are favorable.

Weaknesses: [Dexterity; Charisma] - Grady moves well for his size, but he is by no means the nimblest of sailors in the skies, and he doesn't have the sky legs that most of the men born to the life have acquired. Grady thinks he has his men's trust and loyalty, but if he does it's because of his skill and fairness, not because of his politeness. He is hostile and bitter, demands a military excellence from all around him, and has bouts of rage where he'll find someone to dress down and punish for little reason.

Equipment: Two pepperbox pistols - firearm artifices that deliver six ferrum bolts or a single discharge per crystal. Two trench knives, which combine blade and brass knuckles in one. He rarely takes it with him but keeps on ship a blundergust - a stannum artifice that delivers a high-powered blast in a wide area, effective at short range.

What other characters would know: His clothing and weaponry mark him as a trencher, one of the front-line soldiers and officers in the Sorrowars. It is unlikely that anyone knows more about his history, although his murder and desertion charges would be public record for any who could access it.

Name: Alexander Van Williams
Nickname/Alias/Title:
Sex: Male
Age: 24
Race: Human
Occupation: Pirate, Outlaw, Killer, First Mate.

Past: Alexander hails from Adelost, the eldest son of Guilders. His upbringing was normal, if a bit disappointing for his parents. Constantly running into trouble in school for fighting, Alex's natural inclination towards violence would have made him into a career soldier should Adelost's military been more than a token force.

Alexander would eventually take to the streets as his parents would disown him. His siblings were actively pursuing the family business. Which was excelling in school, and graduating to work on Caith to advance all of civilized life with technology. Instead, Alex was stealing from stores to survive. Left with few options, Alex stowed away on the Aleph Null at 17. Given a "Light" sentence of lashes and no pay for a year to earn his place on the ship, Alex has worked hard to make sure his worth isn't questioned.

Present: Alexander overtime has worked his way up to First mate, if for no other reason that being one of the longest surviving members on board the ship. Alex likes to think its his personalty serving as a good offset to Grady's. Alex is a kind person, usually. Especially to those that are good to him. Members of the crew who pull their own weight will find an ally in Alexander.

Members who come to Alex with talk of mutiny after given a rum ration, because Grady tore their bunk apart in rage, will find a summary execution. Alexander's kindness is not weakness. Alex is capable of brutal violence in an instant, often maiming security personal who attempt to fight on the luxury liners that serve as the crew's primary targets.

Alex is a gunslinger and looks all the part. He wears a buttoned up shirt with the sleeves rolled, and a vibrant green vest on over it. Across his chest is a bandoleer of ammo and a brace of pistols. Slung across his back is his rifle. Holding up his khaki colored pants is another belt, this one with only a single pistol and a sword on his hips. He wears a red bandana and brown animal skin boots.

Alex is 5'11, and always looks just a bit underfed from his days as a streetrat, never quite gaining all his weight. He wears his blonde hair long, and will usually go a few days without shaving.

Future: Alexander's goals are generally shortsighted. Eat tonight. Drink tonight. He entertains the idea of running his own ship one day, or taking over Grady's position once he retires, but Alex entirely content with his current position.

Skills: Alex is lethal in all combat, but prefers to shoot. He doesn't take a leadership role in combat, but focuses more on morale, shouting insults at the enemy, or bolstering the crew's morale. He makes for a passable leader that can keep the ship aloft when Grady is busy, or off the ship.

Strengths: [Attack; Charisma] Alex is a natural born killer, and didn't become the first mate by being a pacifist. He is deadkilly in all forms on combat but makes his case strongest with ranged weapons used at point blank range. Where Grady is the driving force of the ship, Alex goes around repairing the relationships and morale of the crew. If Grady is bad cop, Alex is good cop. Make no mistake, Alex's entire faith and devotion are to Grady, but he knows that a stern hand isn't the only way to handle the crew. And if they're still upset, alcohol rations always work.

Weaknesses: [Defense; Perception.] Alex's entire combat style relies on not getting hit. His perception lacks because Alex often either doesn't care to notice things, or he's drinking.

Equipment: A brace of "Mancrusher" pistols; two firearms modified to always discharge the entire ferrum payload. A Single "Pepperbox" pistol. A Sabre on his hip, and a long knife as back up. A Bolt action operated "Lightning" rifle completes his small armory. The rifle is usually left in his small room, but if he has time to get it for a boarding action, he will.

[Zap!]

Name: Balder Goldenwood

Nickname/Alias/Title: The Fighter/Old Man

Sex: Male

Age: 58

Race: Human

Occupation: Heavy Gunner & Weapons Master/Trainer

Past: Balder was born and immediately pushed towards a career as a warrior. Standing at around six feet tall while still a boy, he would eventually grow another half foot still, his wide-shouldered frame ornamented with thick, corded muscles. Not an unattractive man, Balder always looked more rugged and manly than handsome. His strong jawline and wide nose appropriately matched a thick barrel chest and bear-like limbs. His ferocious personality was mirrored by wild, flowing hair and a low-hanging mustache, both as golden as his namesake would suggest.

A veteran of many battles, Balder's greatest test came at a much more personal level. Still a young man with less than three decades under his considerable belt, Balder was presented with a child of no less than eight years by one of his lovers from the seemingly distant past. By all appearances, this young boy was his son, there could be no doubt about it, but Balder was in no position to be a father, especially to a boy who had already lived nearly a decade without his father in his life. He would give it his best effort at parenthood, but, despite huge sacrifices of time and energy that virtually derailed his military career, months and months spent apart due to the inevitable callings of war widened the rift between father and son. The boy would eventually grown into a passionate, determined young man – much like his father – but with a calling much different than Balder's. During one of Balder's military campaigns, the young Goldenwood would become infatuated with a certain sect of religious zealots and leave his family home without anything more than a short letter.

Balder couldn't understand his failings at the time, and so he chose to avoid them altogether by dedicating himself fully into his bloody craft. He had lost much by attempting to divide himself between two different responsibilities, and for awhile he became lost. He often attempted to find himself in what proved to be a faithful source of courage and friendship, the double edged sword that is wine, whiskey, and ale.

Present: Just as alcohol gives courage to warriors before battle, so too does it dull the passage of time for those same warriors. No longer the powerful, explosive warrior of his past, Balder has acquired a few layers of fat over his years of muscle – his thick barrel chest now featuring a sizable gut. Though his long, flowing locks have long since left his cranium to be replaced by wrinkles, his mustache thankfully remains intact (though what was once blonde is now a distinguished white). His deep brown, squinting eyes still remain their twinkle, and his large hands have maintained their calluses.

Despite the apparent effects that aging has had on him, Balder's priorities have remained constant. He still protects those around him with his weapons and with his instruction. From martial training to instructions about artillery safety, Balder hopes that he can impact the people he cares about and ensure their continued existence long after his old bones lie down for the last time. Though he will always struggle to admit it to himself, his protective nature is a response or substitute for his paternal instincts, instincts that he would have never expected to surface.

Future: Balder has accomplished much in his life, and, though he never aspired to be the legendary warrior that his earlier year might have hinted at, he is relatively satisfied with his career. He is now primarily interested in passing on his knowledge and continuing making sure that he looks out for those whom he takes under his wings. This selflessness comes easily to Balder but at the cost of his own mental well-being. Though he has always found fraternity in his companions and pupils, Balder continues to realize the implications of his missed opportunities at creating a family. He is proud of the wisdom and martial prowess that he is able to pass on, but that is no substitute for an impact of flesh and blood. Any thinking focused on the future inevitably leads to a reminder of his own mortality and of the fact that everything he has made can be too easily swept away.

Skills: Balder is a master of many weapons and proficient at more. Though he prefers to fight with heavy weapons like claymores, plançons, and battle-axes, he is more than passable with light, one-handed weapons like smallswords, dueling sabres, and rapiers, utilizing a heavy armguard or buckler in his off hand. Because of his experience in different infantries during his younger years, Balder has a basic knowledge of various polearms (halberds, partisans, ranseurs), shortspears, and tower shields.

As far as ranged weapons go, Balder's specialty lies with rifles over handguns due to his belief that every ferrum bullet – no matter the size – is only valuable if it hits its mark. The added points of contact with the shooter's body and ease of sighting and their added accuracy are especially invaluable to warriors rapidly losing their speed with age.

Balder is invaluable aboard ships in the operation of artillery, for he can be an efficient one man crew or he can orchestrate multiple crews of gunners operating multiple cannons. In under five minutes, Balder can have a cannon cleaned of all remaining ferrum and sparks, loaded and rammed with a ferrum crystal base and alumen-enforced steel shot, and ignited with more, unstable ferrum. In his years aboard ships, he has been experimenting with different kinds of shots specially designed for any circumstance.

Strengths: [Attack; Intelligence]

Though not as strong as he was in his younger years, Balder is still extremely deadly when he attacks. With a wide range of weapons and techniques, Balder pairs years of training and wisdom with his natural brute strength.

As a result of a lifetime of hard training and practical experience for that training, Balder has stocked a library of tactical information. He was not born with any particularly special level of intelligence, but he is sharp and practical. This mind is augmented with a wisdom that comes only to those who have, not only decades, but also trying experiences and hard fought triumphs behind them.

Weaknesses: [Dexterity; Willpower]

It is only natural for bodies that have been moving for almost six decades to begin to slow down. As a larger man, Balder was never the most nimble or agile, and this weakness has only been accentuated by hard years. From cartilaginous breakdown and loss of elasticity in his knees and ankles to a heavy accumulation of body fat and loss of calcium in increasingly fragile bones... Balder would just say that his best years are surely behind him. You surely won't see him on the dance floor – or hope you won't.

Spending much of his life around those (from soldiers to other old men) who do nothing but encourage his vices has had its impacts on Balder's own willpower. To cope with the gradual loss of his martial prowess – something that has defined his entire life – Balder has made a habit of turning to the bottle. Though his aging organs are less and less able to handle the alcohol, Balder continues to increase his intake. He desperately wants to live in the present, for thoughts of the loss of his past and of his non-existent future are things he is determined to avoid.

Equipment: Balder's arsenal consists of a multitude of weapons, but he usually looks toward a specific few: a heavy, steel plançon à picot (sturdy shaft under a heavy metal cylinder, lined with rows of four spikes and featuring a larger spike on top), an iron cutlass (thicker and shorter than a sabre or a rapier and with a heavy metal hand guard), a buckler (for his off hand when wielding the cutlass), and a flintlock rifle (a piece of flint, held by a set of jaws, can be sparked by a small hammer released by a trigger and a frizzen, uncovering the ferrum-containing pan – the production of actual flames in the firing mechanism unleash powerful ferrum rounds).

For operating heavy artillery, Balder utilizes a sponge/sacatrapos hybrid to clean the barrel. An alumen-enforced ladle and rammer load the alumen/steel shot and the ferrum crystals, and a linstock with unstable ferrum finally lights the cannon.

What other characters would know: N/A

Name: Elara Rennway
Nickname/Alias/Title: No nicknames as of yet
Sex: Female
Age: 24
Race: Human
Occupation: Sailing Master of the Aleph Null

Past: Elara grew up in Greenglass, a small, colorful port city known for its lively streets and bustling trade. The Rennway family were spice merchants, and had been for as long as any in the family could remember. They lived comfortably among the middle class, and had a reputation for being fine spice merchants. In other groups, they had a reputation for being excellent smugglers, a profession the family had been continuing for just as long. As a child, Elara was expected to act like other young girls her age, wearing dresses and learning to sew. Her mother, despite being married into a family of smugglers, was very committed to her ideas of propriety and would have taught Elara to be a proper young lady, if the headstrong little girl had not had other plans. Elara was much more interested in her father’s trade.

Elara’s father, Verrin Rennway had a respectable number of ships he commanded for his trade, legal or otherwise, and while he originally worked by seafaring vessels like every Rennway who had come before him, Verrin had been one of the first merchants in the area to begin using airships as they became more popular. He currently was captain and sailing master of the Bluebird, an airship he had purchased the year Elara had been born. Elara was fascinated with the airships in Greenglass port, and when she wasn’t looking after her two younger sisters or doing her chores, she’d wander around the docks just to watch the ships come and go. Her father had already begun teaching the trade to Jacind, the eldest child of the family and seven years Elara’s senior, when he was a child, and Elara listened in on his lessons whenever she could.

Elara’s father did not have the same ideas of propriety as his wife did, and when he realized that his daughter had an aptitude for airships and the like, he began to teach her as well. He taught her how to read maps and star charts, how to plot courses, and how the airships worked. She eagerly absorbed everything she could get her hands on, and smuggled the maps into her room, where she stayed up late into the night planning voyages she would take one day when she had her own ship. Her mother eventually gave up on teaching Elara things like sewing and dancing, and watched with a somewhat exasperated look as her daughter ran through the house trailing maps and charts behind her.

Elara was seven when her father first took her aboard the Bluebird. She had never experienced anything like it before. He was just beginning to show her how to pilot the airship, as he had with her brother before her. To Elara it seemed as natural as breathing. Being up in the air seemed right to her. It was as if she could feel the wind moving against the sails. She was standing at the bow of the ship leaning against the rails when she saw another ship in the distance. She leaned farther over to get a better look, when a piece of rotting wood in the rail gave way and she began to fall forward with a yelp. Out of instinct she put her hands in front of herself and was suddenly thrown back onto the ship’s deck by a gust of wind that had seemingly come out of nowhere. Her father, who had begun to run toward her the moment she started to fall, saw her manipulate the air around her, and understood what his daughter did not. Her mother’s side of the family had a talent for aeurgy, a talent that had apparently been passed down to Elara.

From that day forward Elara spent her morning studying sailing and navigation, and her afternoons at the local spellcrafter’s guild in Greenglass, learning to control stannum. As she got older, she learned more and more about airships. When her brother left home to join the army, she became more involved with helping her father with the family business. She had a talent for flying airships, and her control of caith only added to that. She soon began sailing ships for her father, and had hopes of taking over the family business. While she was rather indifferent to both spice trading and smuggling, she knew she belonged on an airship, and her father could certainly use the help.
When her brother returned home, however, Elara’s father declared that he would be handing the family business down to Jacind. With him home, Elara was suddenly less involved in the business affairs, and was sent sailing less and less. This increasingly became a source of conflict within the family, and when the spellcaster’s guild offered her an opportunity to leave the city as one of the urgists on an expedition, she accepted.

She left Greenglass at age nineteen, and spent the next year working with the guild on various jobs, but the work was too structured, and the rules too rigid for Elara. Being so young and a female, it was difficult to find anyone willing to let her control their ships. The jobs she could find were often on ships in terrible condition or under ridiculous captains. At age twenty-two she found herself in Barberry, planning her next step. She was considering stealing a smaller ship and running her own little smuggling operation. Growing up in the Rennway family, she had a rather innate disregard for the law. When she heard that Captain Wilton Grady was at the Barberry docks and in need of a new sailing master, she found a chance she very much wanted to take. It wasn’t easy to convince the captain let her aboard in the first place, but due to the lack of other options and a job that needed to be done within a rather small time limit, she was able to get aboard with a deal that was supposed to be very temporary. When she got the ship through one hell of a storm with a considerable amount of skill and finesse, she was able to prove herself and earned her place on the ship for good.

Present: Elara Rennway has been the sailing master of the Aleph Null for just two years, but the ship is extremely important to her. Having grown up taking care of two younger sisters, Elara has a rather protective nature, and is now fiercely protective of the Aleph Null and its crew. Elara is very intelligent and mature. She enjoys reading, especially if the subject is history or exploration. She loves adventure and sailing more than anything, and is very meticulous in her planning. She can spend days with her maps and charts, planning out a course with a focus that is hard to shake her out of. If she has her head in a map, one might have to call her name several times loudly to get her attention. Despite this, she can change her plans in a moment, and thinks very quick on her feet. In general, she has a rather ambiguous moral compass, but considers loyalty to be extremely important, and she is very loyal to the captain and the Aleph Null. She has no time for nonsense, and can become impatient very quickly; she has a bit of a temper. She communicates with her family from time to time with letters, but her relationship with them is not the best.

Elara is slightly above average in height, standing at 5’8” with a thin build and lean muscles. She has a light tan and long, waving, dark brown hair that she often keeps tied back. She usually wears brown trousers tucked into tall, leather boots, a white shirt under a simple blue corset, and a long black coat with brass buttons.

Future: Elara is simply happy to finally have a good position as a sailing master. She has big plans for voyages she longs to take one day, and wants to experience adventure and travel the world.

Skills: Elara is a powerful aeurgist, and has been trained in the manipulation of caith from a young age. Her skills are strong, but her powers lack in finesse. She is able to control strong gusts of wind, but has never been able to use stannum to play a flute, like she often saw other aeurgists doing at the guild. Her abilities suit her well though and are quite useful when it comes to sailing airships, though they can also be quite useful in a fight. Elara also knows the ins and outs of airships, and has been sailing them since she was quite young. She has a natural talent for it, and has been known to proudly claim that she’s one of the best sailing masters in the skies. She skilled at using star charts, maps, and navigation tools, and is a navigation expert.

Strengths: [Intelligence, Perception] Elara is very clever and quick-witted, and between her father and the guild she has been well-educated in a variety of subjects. Elara can feel the slightest changes in the weather and wind, and is extremely observant. The downside of this is that she can become so focused on one thing that she misses another.
Weaknesses: [Attack, Charisma] Elara is a powerful aeurgist and can give out very effective punches with gusts of wind, but she’s more suited to defense than attack, and isn’t extremely talented when it comes to physical fighting. When it comes to people skills, Elara can be very friendly and sociable, she can become frustrated with people very easily, and becomes blunt and sarcastic. She doesn’t like wasting her time with fools, and may be vocal about it.
Equipment: Elara carries a pair of leather gloves and a dagger her brother gave her on her belt, along with a variety of tools, most of which are related to navigation, such as her compass or her sextant. She keeps another knife in her boot as well.

Name: Caliana d’Arrowen
Nickname/Alias/Title: Sometimes called Cally
Sex: Female
Age: 19
Race: Human
Occupation: merchant’s daughter/currently a normal crewmember on the Aleph Null

Past: The only daughter of a well-off merchant who traded in caith crystals and high quality goods it seemed that Cally would have a life of ease and she was brought up learning the manners of polite society and developing some considerable talent in music and dance.

When she was 12 her older brother died, leading Cally as her father’s only successor. Her life changed practically overnight; her father started taking her on his voyages and tried to teach her the skills useful to a merchant. Although she was already a skilled reader and her practice in dancing stood her in good stead when it came to the dexterity needed in moving about a ship and her fencing lessons, her naïve outlook and belief in always doing the right thing means that she will probably never have the haggling skills necessary to make her a skilled merchant. Her father quietly despairs of her.

Present: Pirates attacked Cally’s father on his last trip, taking much of his cargo and leaving him badly wounded and the majority of his crew dead. Despite his losses, he still had enough money to hire Grady and his ship to recover his cargo (if it hasn’t been sold) and to avenge his crew by killing the pirates. Oh, and to take his daughter along – officially to represent his interests, unofficially in a last ditch attempt to knock her naïve ideas out of her head and make her grow up. His only instructions are to ensure she comes back in one piece without any hideous scars or pregnant.

Cally isn’t stupid so much as naïve and innocent – growing up in luxury, she tends to be fairly trusting and takes people at face value without questioning their motives. Though she has as little interest in trading as she does talent, she loves travelling on airships and would be happy to spend her life sailing from place to place. Thanks to her travels on her father’s ship she’s experienced at the everyday tasks involved in running a ship and is happy to earn her keep by working like any ordinary sailor.

She stands about average height, possibly an inch or so taller than most, with a lean but fairly solid build. She has long light brown hair tied back (strands are always coming loose), grey-blue eyes and features that are a little too strong to be considered pretty. Ever since spending most of her time on a ship she’s been wearing masculine clothing of breeches and a plain white shirt with a sleeveless jerkin (much to her mother’s distress).

Future: Cally knows her father is expecting her to take his place, and although she doesn’t want to upset him, her heart just isn’t in the business. Her own dreams involve a rather romantic idea of sailing the world as a renowned bard or musician.

Skills: Cally has some considerable skill as a musician; she has a good singing voice and is a capable lute player.
She has been trained by some fine fencing masters and is very good with the sword she carries.
Despite her lack of diplomatic skills, she has been brought up with good manners and is happy dealing with people in various levels of society.
She is literate and has reasonably good mathematical skills.

Strengths: [Dexterity; Charisma;]
Having been onboard airships for much of her life, Cally has fine airlegs and moves with a quick graceful confidence on ship.
Cally may be naïve and occasionally irritating, but her general friendliness, her willingness to attend to any tasks that need doing on ship and her good natured response to any teasing means that most people feel reasonably positive about her.

Weaknesses: [Choose two and describe/elaborate: Attack; Perception]
Although she’s skilled with her sword Cally has never used it in real combat and is likely to freeze up or panic in a real fight, particularly when blood starts flowing. She’ll almost certainly be violently sick afterwards.
Cally’s black and white outlook means that she’s blinded to the various shades of grey that make up the majority of people in the world.

Equipment:
She carries a side-sword (similar to a rapier, but with a wider blade with a cutting edge) and a couple of knives as back up weapons.
She also has a small lute, though obviously she doesn’t carry it about on her all the time.

Name: Marko Latvanen
Nickname/Alias/Title: None
Sex: Male
Age: 25
Race: Human
Occupation: Thief, Engineer

Past:

Marko Latvanen, given name unknown, was born to a mother of unknown birth, who died shortly after the ordeal. His father, rather than fulfill his duty, placed Marko into the care of a local orphanage matron. A woman of cruel heart and little compassion, she was well known to the community for her treatment of the orphans, but few knew the extent of this cruelty.

In her care, Marko was given a only number as a name. With emphatic gusto, the matron would whip the orphans without regard to their health for even the slightest misdeed, refusing to feed them for days on end if their chores had not been completed with military efficiency. The inhumane treatment did not always have reason, and Marko often found himself being burned, tied up, or otherwise physically abused for nothing other than the matron's personal enjoyment. It was in this sadistic environment that Marko learned how to survive. Numbed to pain from years of torture, he could go days without food and survive off the little he would scavenge from the garbage, off the floor, or even insects.

On the eve of his tenth birthday, he escaped from the place he came to consider hell, with several other orphans. With the matron and her servants hot on his tail, he barely managed to stowaway on a caravan going south. His fellow orphans were not as fortunate, and he watched as several were viciously set upon by dogs or shot down in the cold woods, leaving him as the last one to make it out of there alive.

He spent the next several years of his life an urchin on the streets of a minor city several hundred miles to the south of his hometown, where he became an extremely competent thief despite his young age. Stealing what he could, when he could, he managed a decent life for such a young person, with at least one meal a day, and even sometimes a real bed to sleep in. When he was thirteen, his luck had seemingly run out, when he was caught in the dead of the night attempting to make off with jewelry of a local merchant. Instead of having the urchin thrown to the wolves, or into the dungeons, the merchant gave Marko a second chance. A trader in machinations and artifices, he began teaching Marko everything he knew about such technology, as well as the values the merchant himself possessed, becoming a father of sorts, the merchant's wife becoming an adopted mother. For the next four years, he lived in this somewhat higher lifestyle, never wanting for food, clothing, or safety. They even gave him something he had always longed for: A real name. A given name the merchant's wife had chosen, and the merchant's own family name: Marko Latvanen.

This was not to last, however, and when he was 18, the merchant had angered a few local thieves, and in the middle of the night, they came for him. The merchant and his wife were murdered, their home set ablaze. Marko barely escaped the inferno, fighting his way through several of the thieves. He vanished in the alleyways. His life had gone down in flames, with his adopted family inside.

He spent the next seven years of his life returning to his life of crime, but with a new understanding of the world. He used his curiosity as a drug of choice, a final escape from the nightmare his life had become. His skills as a thief were exponentially increased by his new found knowledge, and he had no issues surviving, even thriving, in a harsh world.

Present:

Despite the horrors of his past, he continues to remain optimistic, constantly seeking knowledge. He's friendly but distant, finding close relationships with people difficult at best, and often shows a general lack of empathy. In the face of this, he is still very loyal, a trait he learned from his adopted father, and applies business honesty to all aspects of life. A thief with a code, he often struggles reconciling the two lifestyles.

Standing at five feet, eight inches, his sinewy body shows his years of abuse. Burns, scars, and a missing toe all tell tales of his past. He has long, chestnut and brown hair, green eyes, and an expression that rarely finds its way from a sly smile. He rarely wears clothing that shows the skin beneath, opting for greatcoats and dusters due to their equal ability to warm him on cold nights, as well as conceal any weapons or goods he has stolen.

He came to Havenstad as merely a passing through stop, but found the Aleph Null, and opted to sign on as a general sailor, his curiosity for flying getting the better of him. He determined it would be a decent break from his mundane, ground based life.

Future:

Marko seeks knowledge above all else, but only for its sake. He possesses very few long term goals, and only seeks food in his belly and a good place to lay his head at the end of the day. A nomad by nature, he envisions himself moving from place to place until the day he dies.

Skills:

A master thief with an intricate knowledge of the systems used to protect valuables, he uses this knowledge to break locks, identify traps and disable them, and has immeasurable patience. He can perform the same action over and over again, and is highly meticulous. He will take apart virtually anything to learn how it works, and with added gusto when it directly involves his criminal ways, as it can directly impact his likelihood to succeed and survive.

Strengths: [Intelligence; Willpower]

He is exceedingly intelligent, and always thirsting for knowledge. Between the life skills he's learned and his random tinkering, he can think very quickly on his feet, and is often attempting to invent tools to make breaking and entering that much easier and efficient.

Due to his early childhood, he also has a very strong sense of discipline and control. He can withstand pain, a tolerance easily up there with the best, and go several days without food. While he understands it makes him weaker, long years on the streets have given him a resistance to the feelings of hunger.

Weaknesses: [Attack; Charisma]

While fairly strong in his defensive capabilities when attacked, he is not nearly as efficient on the attack, a skill he rarely found himself using. As far as he is concerned, a thief can get away, and a murderer gets killed. As such, he always avoided such confrontations, preferring to avoid the situation it might occur than taking the initiative.

He also suffers charismatically, and is by no means a leader. His distance from others, and sometimes abrasive personality leave him sorely lacking in interpersonal skills.

Equipment:

A dagger for self defense, a bedroll he uses on the roads and in the cities, and a nifty multitool he fashioned. Along with multiple tools, it also has several lockpicks housed within it. He prefers traveling light, acquiring or fashioning any other necessary tools he might need for a score.

What other characters would know: Little as he would be very new to the crew. He also isn't particularly forthcoming about his past, and prefers not to share his abilities as a thief until such a time arises as it would be necessary.

Name: Shinrei Kisaki
Nickname/Alias/Title: Rei, Scarlet Princess, Lady Kisaki
Sex: Female
Age: 22
Race: Human
Occupation: Master Wright, Caith Researcher, Runaway Noble

Past: A daughter of a noble hailing from Barberry, Rei has always been rather unusual of the sorts. She had the habit of fiddling with anything mechanical, giving many in her household a headache when they seen her sitting on the ground, with an artifice taken apart in front of her.

Of course, being the daughter of a noble, she was consistently scolded for 'dabbling into the work of peasants'. However, the more restrictions that the house placed on her, the more Rei wanted to be free. After reaching a breaking point, she left her home to find her own way.

Being as fate may have it, she found her way first through Caith. Though she denies it, she had actually snuck into the guilds, before peering at their Caith and artifices with a curious glance. This curiosity gradually grew into an interest, supported by how most mechanisms were powered by Caith. While researching, she had found an affinity for Ferrum, and started using that to help build machines here and there, mostly spending her free time helping others repair their artifices.

However, to her, she felt that Barberry was rather small. There were stories of ships, both sky and seafaring, along with plenty of artifices there. So, utilizing her name, she traveled.

Present: Currently, Rei serves aboard the Aleph Null as a Master Wright, making sure to keep the engines in working condition. Despite her upbringing, she consistently requests people to call her by nickname, and will sometimes blatantly ignore whoever refers to her by her house name. Oddly enough finding herself fitting nicely amongst the crew of the airship, Rei can more often than not be found at the main engine. Or her room, which is generally filled with a lot of papers covered in diagrams and scribbles.

She stands at a somewhat small -in comparison to everyone else- height of 5'6", with a rather delicate looking and well-endowed body, accented by a crimson colored dress that matches her scarlet eyes and waist length hair, tied by a ribbon at the base.

Future: By her words, Rei wants to actual use her dream of building a 'self-sustaining surplus Caith synthesizer'. However, with the current knowledge of Caith, that is simply impossible, therefore why she's doggedly searching for the rumored unstable and conjecture Caith.

By building this, the availability -and in negative correlation of price- of Caith would increase, allowing more experiments and breakthroughs with the more rare Caith be possible, while allowing even the poor to have the ability to obtain the basic Caith to supplement their lifestyle.

Skills: Asides from being a Pyurgy, she is also extremely adept at construction, which in turn, makes her adept at targeting weaknesses in a man-made structure. Her 'combat' specialty is sabotage, with explosives being the key point. Granted, sabotage isn't something done during live combat.she also seems to be rather capable in reconnaissance, due to her skill in running and climbing, despite appearances.

However, unlike most Pyurgy, she frequently overuse her abilities, leading to a berserker like rampage, without a care for herself, frantically attempting to cause as much destruction as possible.

Strengths: [Intelligence; Dexterity]
Despite being a researcher, Rei is exceptionally well with her motor skills, whether running and jumping to escape, or fiddling with minuscule gears.

Weaknesses: [Willpower; Defense]
Can not take a hit. Having no combat training, Rei is easily injured in combat. Even at the times where Rei snaps, she can fight. However, it's not exactly a true fighting, and mostly just a berserk rampage, and therefore holds no true skill, nor any self-preservation.

Alongside consistent overuse of Ferrum, Rei is easily distracted, flustered, and pressured on a normal basis.

Equipment:
-Living Caith Capsule, generally found sitting gently on her head
-Ferrum-loaded mines
-'Blast Blade', a custom weapon that Rei built. Utilizing the same Ferrum core as firearms, the blade can heat up. This is more so useful for cutting holes through metal and wood, as burning through flesh is rather overkill, unnecessary, and horrible for the scent.
-Alumen clothing, something Rei had bought. It is invaluable, as it keeps in line with appearance, alongside durability, something which regular dresses are rather lacking in. If it wasn't made of Alumen, she would've wrecked a lot of clothes while working on machines.

Others: On a normal basis Rei is kind, gentle, yet albeit a bit whimsical and loves to tease, despite being easily flustered and a tempting target for teasing herself. However, when she goes berserk due to overuse of Ferrum, her personality seemingly takes a huge dive. Utterly consumed by bloodlust, her speech and actions becomes extremely coarse, akin to the sailors of the sea. In this state, she might actually have to physically restrained, as she completely disregards her own life and health. Especially since during this state of mind, she will haphazardly use the Caith, resulting in a downwards spiraling cycle. When she calms down though, she would probably squeeze herself in a tiny corner or space for awhile. This would be due to depressing regret over her actions, although being terrified also caused her to hide in a small space.

The title 'Scarlet Princess' not only refers to the flames and her appearance, but also the sheer amount of blood, both her's and the opponent(s) that have been spilled. A title of respect with a sting.

Name:Lasrach Ceàrdach (Flame Forge)
Nickname/Alias/Title: "Ach" (Lasr-ACH & Ceard-ACH) also about the only sound he can make.
Sex: Male
Age: 35
Race: Deor of the Equine
Occupation:
Blacksmith

Past:
Lasrach lived a fairly normal life for his village, while most were xenophobic to a spcies, his home was one of the few melting pots far in the north. His equine body was solid and strong all his life so life as a blacksmith apprentice came easily to him while his other siblings of various builds found other avenues to pursue. For years is was labor intensive with little reward as he learned the trade to sharpen tools until a new priest came to the village with his 'daughter'. She was a beautiful polar bear with cream colored fur who could wander the village in the barest wisps of clothing. Lasrach was not the only one to take note of her beauty, the village shaman's son was a proud Snow leopard who felt that he deserved her attentions while she had eyes for Flame.

When the time same to build the church, the priest came to Lasrach to commission a bell, this was the leopards opportunity. One day while the equine was drawing the glowing metal from the coals, the cat cast a simple spell to summon water, just a gallon but more than enough. The metal screamed at the sudden shift and shattered like glass with hundreds of slivers in all directions. Lasrach managed to shield his face with his left arm which took several jabs along the length, unfortunately his neck wasn't so protected. Even with the healing magic of both priest and shaman the jagged metal tore his vocal chords to ribbons and cauterized the wounds beyond healing.

Lasrach was ashamed, thinking the bell was his failure, he left for the world as a mute. He made his way south with nothing but his hammer for a year, earning his keep in manual labor alone he learned the silent sign language of the slaves. One year since his exile, he came to find himself on an airship of all things.
Present: {WIP, need to hammer out details with others}

Future: One day he hopes to find either a healer strong enough to restore his voice, or find someone who likes the strong silent type to an extreme.

Skills:
He is an Geurgist. With his hammer of Alumen Damascus, he can shape metal with a single blow but exert the power of ten with each strike. However, a geurgist in the middle of the air is 'not-optimal' at best as he lacks the earth to draw from.
Smithing: Blacksmith, armorer, gunsmith, rough jeweler. These are the skills he brings to bear to earn his way through life even without any Geurgy.

Strengths: [Perception: Attack]
He is a craftsman, his eyes are always on the details in big and small scale from pewter figurines to airship engines. As he has made over a thousand weapons, he can take up nearly any tool of war and express the most basic of proficiencies. While he is no weapon master, his base proficiency and overwhelming strength lets him power through most defenses, not counting when he uses his Geurgy to soften up armor.
Weaknesses: [Charisma; Willpower]
The inability to talk puts a severe hamper on social interactions, making the gestures and need to know slave language can impede the need for communication. After the incident that shamed him he has always been of a broken will, doing what others need at a moments notice and even making circuits to make sure no one needed anything before working on his pet projects.

Equipment:

His 'wizards staff' is a enormous hammer made of Damascus iron and Alumen which gives it the wooden appearance. With it as a focus, he can manipulate the earth but he does not use it to make walls or the like but rather to strengthen and weaken others, improving his allies equipment whenever he can.

His clothing is of utility as well as design, his kilt is called brigadine, two layers of leather with plates of steel 'squares' in between. The same is of his vest with smaller plates for more mobility in the workplace. THe dozen pouches are full of small tools, effectively a traveling workbench

What other characters would know: [Miscellaneous information; not required]
What other characters won't know: [Miscellaneous information; not required]

Sorry, didn't notice the tab. Ignore this

Edit: No prob!

Name: Vylmor Octavius (Veel-mor as opposed to Vile-mor)
Nickname/Alias/Title: "Vee", as most pronounce his name in the incorrect form. Otherwise known as Mr. Octavius when dealing with business ends.
Sex: Male
Age: 32
Race: Halfling (Human-Elf Mutt)
Occupation: Doctor, Loremaster, Alchemist, Merchant

Past:
Vylmor's life came to be among a small, secluded elven tribe known as the Keyls, their people located far, far off to the heavily forested west of Coeden. Unlike most of the remaining elven societies, those that have since adopted at least some of the advents of the modern age, the Keyls take pride in their deepened connection to nature, in both the hardships and "purity" that it brought to their simple, albeit archaic, existence.

Among these elves was Vynmora, whose beauty was without proper diction even within the Antelexis vocabulary. Like many, she held curiosity to the possibilities beyond the Keyl's forested home of solitude, as beautiful the lush fields of flowers and herbs, radiant sunlight, and towering trees were. Unlike most in her tribe, however, she actually acted on her desire for knowledge, and proceeded to explore the forests around her during the night, as the Elders slept and the Keyls' patrol was few.

It wasn't long into these nightly journeys that Vynmora came across a small Human outpost, frontiersmen of Adelost seeking to learn more of the surrounding areas (and to perhaps see if such land was for the taking). Among these men was August Octavius: one of the leaders of the escapade, and one of the few with a mission that wasn't of ill-will: to simply record and learn of the fauna, caith, and the inhabitants, if any.

This was quite the discovery for Vynmora, who lived an existence where the Keyls were taught that Elves were the only species of humanoids to exist. Only a few nights more beyond this finding did Vynmora and August happen to meet, at a lush ravine that practically separated the outpost between the more heavily forested conclaves, where the Keyl's tribe was kept hidden in its depths.

It was love at first sight for August; as for Vynmora, it was more along the lines of her curiosity building to their greatest heights, seeing (what she assumed to be) an Elf with very strange, "flat" features (as far as Elves were concerned). The two would return to the dividing ravine each night, and it would be a few nights more before the two would even attempt to communicate with one another, but it was not before long that their forbidden love quickly blossomed.

Many, many nights did their affair pass and their love grew with time, until Vynmora discovered she was of child. This was much to her misfortune, as the Keyls would discover upon her birth that the child was "unpure." It was only lucky enough (at least for Vynmora) that fate would have it that her assigned partner, Gerwyn, would perish during a hunt by an attack from a Caithness. Vynmora, guilty as she was, took the given opportunity to play off that her soon to be child would be theirs.

It was with this discovery that the true lovers decided, against both of their greater desires, that they should end their affair before another unexplainable child should happen to arise from their irresponsibility. With a final goodbye at the ravine, it would be the last time that the two would see one another again.

Months flew by, and Vylmor was born without complication. He seemed perfect in every way, being lucky in taking most of his mother's features as opposed to his fathers. This seemed to fool everyone, excluding the Elders, who knew without doubt that Vylmor wasn't a pure Elf. Though, they waited to act, allowing Vynmora to raise her child without the faintest hint of dissatisfaction.

Seven years passed, and while Vynmora longed for a life with August, soon enough she was content in raising Vylmor, teaching him the ways of the Keyls, happy to be given a second chance for her disobedience... or so she thought. It seemed that the Elders planned to make an example of Vynmora all along, only that they waited until Vylmor was of age to witness the action himself.

Without warning, Vynmora was imprisoned, beaten until her once beautiful visage was only a faint memory, and then brought to stage, only to have her throat sliced in front of a bloodthirsty audience... with Vylmor held prisoner next to her, so as he may reap the knowledge of her misdeed, before he would suffer the same fate the very next day.

Of course, Vylmor would not take this. With the supreme luck of having loose ties, Vylmor made his escape into the night, heading off to the old outpost which his mother would tell him stories of. Only did Vylmor discover that the once small outpost had over the long stretch of time developed into a moderate farming village of its own.

It was here that Vylmor was reunited with Mr. Octavius; luckily for him without much commotion, as Vylmor's first stop was the pub. August knew in an instant, even beyond the bruises and dried tears; this boy was his son. By the night, August had taken all his belongings he could bring by carriage, as well as his boy, for a stealthy move back to Adelost...

...Many years would pass. August, being a wealthy and privileged merchant of the trade city, was able to afford Vylmor an unparalleled education. But even the best private mentors money could buy had difficulty quelling Vylmor's endless quest for knowledge, and on the off hours that he was not with a guide, Vylmor planted his face in August's vast collection of books and encyclopedias.

In the few hours that remained in the day, Vylmor had a deep fascination with Adelost's School of Wards, a guild that specialized in the studies of Solurgy. With a deep desire to learn how to protect others, to prevent such injustice that had befallen his mother, Vylmor spent countless hours in the halls learning from the best scholars as to how to control aurum.

This was yet another area in which Vylmor excelled, being capable of creating protective auras around himself and others that protected both from weapons and elements. His aptitude astonished most teachers, having to spend nearly their entire lives to accomplish what he was able to with the caith.

By the age of 25, Vylmor was an adept student of Solurgy, and carried in his mind complete knowledge of the world around him (or so he presumed was the case with simply reading an encyclopedia). But this yet was not enough for him. By August's surprise, Vylmor announced that he would be making his own way independently, furthering his medical studies in the city of Havenstad. The two shared a close, loving bond, but Vee made it clear that he would not feel complete without seeking his own way and fortune in the world. August accepted his son's desires, and it was a sad farewell, before Vylmor made his departure.

It was here in this little pirate port, a far cry from the noble, secure life of Adelost, that Vylmor found he could make a great opportunity for himself... not to mention, he heard the weather there was fantastic. Indeed, it was a pirate's paradise... and soon, Vylmor found out, a junkie's paradise as well, soon becoming familiar with Cuprum's uses beyond what's mentioned in the medical textbooks.

Vylmor came to the city with the hopes of one day becoming an esteemed doctor or surgeon, but the potential profit in the seedy world of Cuprum dealing was more than he could resist. Using his knowledge of both Aurum and Cuprum, Vylmor was one of the first to discover just how potent the drug could be when the former was used to enhance the latter. His first batches to the Havenstad druglords that empowered the Black Market couldn't keep up with demand.

Present:
Over the past five years, Vylmor has risen from a modest medical student to a bonafide king pin; all through the deceptive use of his Solurgy in combination with Cuprum. As he has seen it, if such unmotivated individuals would befall the whims of a drug to take away their pain, who was he to deny them? If it weren't him, it would be somebody else to take the profit; and if the profit was up for grabs, why not be the one to take it?

Vylmor's "business" has spread far across Oceanica, as his business ties have spread even further across Allevent, granting him a great deal of control and information as to the solidity of his affairs. And with such knowledge came some unfortunate attention. By the last year, it was becoming apparent to Vylmor that his business has grown far too large for him to handle, and his arrogant desire for growth has led to such a state that his business has grown beyond even his own control.

With Vee's unwitting arrogance, some of Oceanica's more aggressive task forces have made it their sole mission to take him down personally. Many of their missions have since made Vee's moves all over the expansive archipelagos, his business dealings, a difficult persuasion, if not impossible. As such, he has learned to seek more "legitimate" business sources... among them, Vee came across the Aleph Null only six months ago.

It was with this ship, and its captain, the esteemed Wilton Grady, that Vee found his perfect escape route from the encroaching, seemingly unending forces of the law.

Future:
It is ultimately Vylmor's goal to further amass the wealth that he has made for himself, if only for the sole purpose of someday completely annihilating the Keyl clan. The memory of Vynmora's unjust public slaughter has been fresh in Vee's mind since the night of her death, and it would be no greater satisfaction for him to personally show those that have wronged him how Vynmore's "unpure" offspring has made a name for himself; despite their murderous contempt.

Clearing his name is a second thought, but it would certainly help to clear the since foggy relations Vylmor has had to compromise with his father, August. Not to mention, it would certainly help him ascertain a more comfortable life upon his completion of being a runaway... but since his boarding, Vee has been seeing more and more to like than he originally presumed of the piracy occupation.

Vee has since learned that there is more than meets the eye from his encyclopedias (in fact, he has been seeing in many an occasion that such encyclopedias that he has grown from have been entirely wrong in some respects). Indeed, his journal has come to life from the various journeys that the crew has encountered, and he has been fueled by a newfound mission to record their various findings, wildlife, and locale as they come. Perhaps as the journey continues, such a mission would become a forethought...

Skills:
- Highly skilled Solurgist.
- Extensive knowledge of Cuprum, and can use it for creating healing/enhancing potions, deadly poisons... and form it into a high purity variety for copperheads. Not a Theurgist, however, and needs to manipulate the material the old-fashioned way (pestle and mortar).
- Intelligent and highly educated, making him quite knowledgeable when it comes to varying factions, the geography, history and varying species of Allevent, what-have-you. This makes him a great source of information. However, this doesn't really translate to "street smarts"; Vee knows the world by textbooks, not through actual real-world experience.
- Knowledgeable of the value of materials and items, and a skilled barterer. His business persuasion is unparalleled... but his actual people/relation/morale skills are lacking, to say the least, coming off as cold and calculating.
- Capable polyglot. Vee can converse perfectly in Yuman and Antelexis. Vee can also converse in Indigen and Folkl, though he is far less fluent in these languages. Glot, however, is barely intelligible for Vee.
- Shifty, skilled gambler.
- Fashionista, and knows how to cut hair.

Strengths: [Defense; Intelligence] - Vee's true strengths lie in the back of the brunt as opposed to the front lines. While perhaps only a tad self absorbed, Vee will extend his energy into those that he deems as his allies, and that goes for most of the crew in the Aleph Null; besides, he would rather deal with you the easy way through prevention as opposed to the operating table. He also has an innate sense of where the damage will be coming and going, as is second nature with a sharp mind; chances are if you have an unknown blindspot, he probably has you covered... so long as nobody's coming at him with a rapier.

Weaknesses: [Attack; Willpower] - Where Vee is truly skilled in the use of Solurgy, his energy into the arcane and academia has left him without much in the way of threatening force. In fact, as much as Vee holds himself to such high esteem, he would be almost helpless without an ally to finish off even the slightest of threats. Even when he knows how to protect his allies, you would be best to make sure he is loyal and truly looking out for you; chances are, if he had to save you or himself, he would vote for the latter. So it's best to keep him happy. When out of combat, he also has been known to escape into his own created vices with Cuprum; best not call him a Copperhead, though.

Equipment:

1. An ornate, highly prized Dagger. Vee has soaked the blade in a deadly poison; the slightest contact is slow but certain death...
2. ...without the antidote, which Vee keeps handy in a small vial around his neck. Vee is not skilled in the slightest with the dagger; but if he's already behind an unsuspecting person, all Vee needs to know is to slice the carotid artery.
3. An equally ornate and incredibly valuable pistol, held at his hip. Six rounds. The weapon is simply for show, if anything, as Vee couldn't hit a barn door if he was ten feet away. But perhaps with luck and in a dire circumstance, one of those six bullets would hit something of an encroaching enemy.
4. A satchel, which carries:
5. A varying assortment of potions/poisons, dependent on the situation, and miscellaneous herbs and alchemy supplies, such as his mortar and pestle.
6. Vee's journal, where he marks all matters of information that he gathers of his surroundings and of those around him. When he isn't speaking, he will tend to be writing something in this. Keeps it locked, the key to which is draped around his neck alongside his antidote.

What other characters would know:

From the way Vee keeps himself, most would definitely connect that he's a man of privilege, and that he isn't afraid to show it. He's usually seen everywhere sporting a dark navy trench coat, complemented by a lighter scarf beneath and dark purple, skin tight gloves [akin to the character picture]. They're of a very finely crafted, expensive material, and do well to block from the winds while being stylish to match. Sadly, not very effective for combat; but he looks hella rad when he casts auras and wards. As a side note, Vylmor stands at 6'2", and is lanky in stature.