Name: Gaius Secundus
Age: 18
Class: Tactition
Weapons: Killing Edge, Elthunder tome, Elixir

Fighting Style: Direct and agressive, uses every trick in the book to win no matter how low.

Personality: Gaius acts upbeat and is quick to laugh. It seems like nothing fazes him. He is very smart and is considered an upcoming tactical genius. However, he is be stubborn and prideful. Gaius is also hardworking and practical. He's skilled at deception and a good liar. Despite his young age, he acts much more mature. He always does what he thinks needs done and screw the consequences. He does not always get along well with others and prefers to spend most of his time alone, studying tactics and philosophy.

History: Born in Bravura and raised in a moderatly wealthy family, Gaius's childhood was mostly normal. Execpt his father, who also was a great tactician, trained him in tactics, swordsmanship, and magic from a very young age. Now that he is old enough to fight, he volunteered to be the official tactician of the Reclamers. This mission is Gaius's first solo stint as a tactition. He was recommeded by his father to the king when the group was being first formed. The king, remembering Gaius's father's talant and skill, quickly gave his approval.

Rational: Gaius wants to follow in his father's footsteps and become a great tactition, and the only way to learn is to get field experiance.

Appearance: He has black hair and green eyes, very tall (6'9") with sharp features and wearing a tactition's outfit.

The lightest sleeper of the group.

(This has been updated. I want to reveal more of his personality as the rp progresses, so the details here are a little sparse.)

Name: Lilith Merdox
Age: 25
Class: Mercanary
Weapons: Steel sword Concoction
Fighting Style: Swift and elegant, yet simple with no wasted movement.

Personality: Lilith's personality is both complex and simple. She fights for money and she does not care about who is paying her or what they want her to do, once it is done and she is paid thats as far as her loyalty goes. Although once she accepts she will not go back on her word even if she will die otherwise. To other people, she is cold, and often rude. But beneath that hard, cold extirior, she is not as heartless as she would acts. She does care a lot about others and sometimes she will go out of her way to help someone in need, even if it could be disastrous for her. She has a soft spot for childern and is known to keep candy on her to give out to them. She has no sense of humor, although she grasps sarcasam and uses it often.

History:
Lilith was born in Augur to a very poor family. Her father was an abusive drunk and her mother often very sick. They lived in two room shack with little clothing and blankets to ward off the biting cold seasons. Her father beat her often and the other kids made fun of her and threw stuff at her. Dispite this, Lilith never lost hope that one day everthing will turn out all right. Her mother was a good storyteller and often told her tales of kings, knights, and heros of old. Lilith loves to lisen to those tales, and her favorate was the Tales of the Sheperds where a band of corageous men, led by the dashing and Noble Prince Chrom took on a dark dragon and saved the world. She also liked exploring the woods, and she was there almost every day.
As she grew up, she taught herself how to fight and trained day after day. She also learned to deal with both physical and emotional pain. The other kids soon learned to be wary of her, after she single handedly beat a large group of boys that made fun of her. She also stood up to her father more often. One day when she was fifteen, she wandered farther in the forest then she had ever gone before, she was suddenly surounded by bandits. They captured her then, bound, blindfolded and gagged her. They took her back to her father, and she learned that her father had sold her to the slavers for a very large sum of money. She was taken away. But, as the slavers were traveling a mercanary band called Silver Falcon, hired by the crown to hunt slavers, found that group. They slavers fought rather than give up. The band killed the slavers and freed her. One of the mercanaries , a kind pacifist named Marcon found Lilith and decided to take her in. She lived with the band for many years and they taught her all about the arts of war. Several years later she decided to leave the band and go off as a freelance mercanary where she built a formidable reputation as a very reliable merc. She never forgot about her mother, and she sends half her earnings to her to pay for medican, treatments and so she can live in comfort.

Rationale: Lilith joined the Reclaimers because it pays really really well.

Appearance:


Lilith is very tall for a girl at 5'10". She has fair brown hair and stormy grey eyes. She is known to almost always wearing her armor, no one has ever seen her without it and she refuses to explain why.

Name: Nickolas Rienbach

Age: 23

Class: Dark Mage

Weapons: Flux Tome and Dying Blaze Tome

Personality: A rather jovial and relaxed man, who posits that killing should be only done to prevent more killing from happening. Gets excited the point of being an annoyance when he is talking about something that strikes his interest, and is rather panicky and unhelpful under pressure. He's worryingly familiar with the dead and dying, and enjoys studying both magic and the inner workings of the human body. He knows that he can make people uncomfortable with his habits, and thus usually keeps his studies well away from everyone else in the army, lest they feel unnerved. Despite this, legitimately enjoys having others around, and the sight of a crowded campfire, in addition to being rather touchy-feeling when it comes to meeting new people. He's a lightweight when it comes to drinking, and absolutely sucks when it comes to bluffing in games of chance. Doesn't like hot climates.

Fighting Style: Slow and carefully measured blows with powerful magic, can't get into a melee brawl to save his life

History: Born as the second child of a reclusive family in the depths of the snowy wilderness in Augur, Nickolas was brought into the field of magic by his aging grandmother, a shaman of some renown who had retreated into the wilderness to study the machinations of the great 'elder' magics with his grandfather nearly sixty years prior. He proved to have an immediate talent with the otherworldly force, but never quite got over his habit of making sure his actions and incantations were aggravatingly exact. Despite this, his power grew immensely under his witch-like grandparent, who suggested that he study the world around him and the relationship thereof, before she ordered the boy's worrying father to take him into one of the towns to further help his understanding of people. From there, he was apprenticed to a variety of local mages and even a priest, before he was finally let free to roam the world at the ripe age of seventeen. Since then, he'd been roaming his homeland with a quiet sort of interest, making a small name for himself as a scholar and a mage as the war on the continent below raged. He proved to be unhappy with the state of the world, but had no way to vent his frustrations until he stumbled upon rumors of a definitive solution to the war, and made his way down south to join up with the Reclaimers.

Rationale: He joined the Reclaimers to serve what he felt was the best course of action and bring a sort of balance to the world.

Appearance: A pasty young man, with short-cropped dark hair and pale eyes. Averagely built and average height, his hooded eyes are constantly darting around with energy that doesn't match his dark looks. Wears dark clothes in greys and purples, with the odd white splash of fur or metallic highlight of gold. He keeps himself and his furs clean. Shows his discomfort easily by shifting(Either from foot to foot, or in his chair) or biting his fingernails.

Name: Kuur Salcair

Age: 20

Class: Archer

Weapons: Iron Bow

Personality: A quiet woman who, while at rest, one could mistake for being solemn or simply emotionless. However, she gets flustered easily, and runs away from her problems. She's quite shy when it comes to the group as a whole, and doesn't like being forced to interact. However, she's quite confident when it comes to her bowmanship, and can get fiercely competitive in practice and in battle. Hates to lose, no matter then game or challenge. Easily fooled and easily baited.

Fighting Style: Prides herself on the doctrine of 'one arrow, one man', and strives constantly to prove it in battle. When charged, she never sticks around in melee, instead relying on her long legs to simply outrun the more armored of her foes.

History: Born the third daughter of a successful Panoplian merchant, Kuur spent her younger years sheltered from the worst of the world due to the rich supply route her father ran. Once she was deemed old enough to begin helping out, she was shuffled around the various jobs of the caravan due to her competitive nature when it soon became apparent that she began to sulk when she lost out on whatever she precived as the 'winning' objective of whatever task she was assigned, causing her father no end of grief when he discovered yet another one of his offspring was unsuited to be heir to his vast fortune. To that end, she finally fell into the laps of the caravan guard to deal with, who soon whipped her into channeling her urge to win into archery and hunting, which she took to like a shark to water. As the war broke out, she separated from her father's caravan(Now under the hand of her younger sister) and, when the Reclaimers crossed her path, decided to see the world.

Rationale: In the style of Panoply citizens as a whole, Kuur wants to strike out on her own, but the war raging around her makes it difficult for her to travel unacosted. She found the Reclaimers as a safe buffer from the world, and one that would eventually end the problem altogether.

Appearance: A strong, rather voluptuous young woman with tanned skin and feathery white-blonde hair in a rough cut around her head. She has striking green eyes, and usually maintains a seemingly stoic expression. Despite her complexion, turns red easy. At six foot and one inch, she's taller than quite a few of the men, and somewhat embarrassed by this fact. Usually wears tan and brown shades in her light clothes, with the leather and metal of her armor sparse at best.

Name: Syrena Sinclair
Age: 16
Class: Mage
Weapons: Arma Infernum (Equivalent of Arcfire)

Fighting Style: Carefully thought out magic from a distance. She can fight close range but doesn't like to because it increases the odds that she may seriously injure or disfigure someone. She tries to make sure that she disables people only and never goes for the kill. When it's not related to her magic Syrena isn't afraid to fight dirty. As a farm girl she learned to defend herself from the local village boys and doesn't harbor any reserves about hitting people where it hurts most.

Personality: The thing most people say about Syrena is that she's sweet. She's young compared to everyone else among the Reclaimers and doesn't quite fit in with the crowd. She bright, knowing how to read and write despite growing up a farm girl. She's good at taking in details and has a knack for planning but has a bad habit of deferring to others in a group. She tends to spend a lot of time by herself but is fairly good company when among friends. She does better communicating with those she knows one on one. Syrena tends to not think about consequences to seriously and acts much more out of instinct. She believes anything is possible and doesn't follow instructions very easily. Syrena avoids being confrontational with people at all costs and only has a few things that she will really put up a fight in defense against. She is very good at deducing what needs to be done but has a lot of trouble communicating with other people. She is capable of laying thoughts out very clearly they tend to get all jumbled when she's trying to tell others. Action is her forte and she tends to fold when presented with social situations. She's rather shy and has a mild stutter when talking to others.

History: Syrena grew up in an outlying village in the Kingdom of Bravura. Her father was a book binder and while the village wasn't exactly an epicenter of scholarly works he found steady employment repairing historical and religious volumes at the local monastery. On occasion he would also repair damaged tomes for travelling mages that passed through the area. It was a rare and respected skill to be able to rebind a tome without harming its ability to channel magic.

Syrena never knew her mother. Her father, Edmund, a kind man and a good storyteller, often told tales of how her mother was a princess of a neighboring kingdom and some day she would return and sweep Syrena off to her castle. As a child Syrena loved these stories but as she got older she started to hear far more likely ones from the other villagers. How her mother was a traveling merchant and after spending one night with Edmund had departed. Nine months later Edmund had found Syrena abandoned on his doorstep with a note that wished him and the child a good life and apologized that she could not be a part of it.

When Syrena was young Edmund would often take her to the local monastery when he was mending their books. While her father was busy a kindly old monk named Brother Malachi taught her to read and write. She spend hours in the library reading different books, some true, some fiction and some legend. She read about nobility and adventure and such things that young children often hear stories of.

When she grew older her and the other village children would go exploring. Their town was not far from a forest and some truly spectacular ruins. Syrena was always the one to climb higher than anyone else or go just a little too far into the ruins. This is how she eventually got into trouble.

There was a part of the ruins that scared the other kids, that not one of them dared to enter. It was one of the only structures still complete and whole. Inside was dark and wind whistled threw the stones. The other children cowered at the entrance but whether it was from bravery or stupidity Syrena refused to be intimidated by the darkness.

She traveled deep inside where she disturbed a number of bats that came flocking at her violently. In panic Syrena stepped back and tripped down a flight of stone steps. She cracked her head at the bottom and felt no more.

When she awoke Syrena wasn't sure where she was. She felt around blindly until she saw a strange light far in distance. Thinking it to be daylight and an exit Syrena made her way towards it. As she got closer she discovered it wasn't sunlight at all but a brilliant glowing gem. Not knowing any better Syrena reached out her hand and touched it's surface.

There was a roar of sound, like a great beast bellowing and flames were expelled from the gems directed straight for Syrena. Terrified Syrena threw up her hands to protect herself and in that moment it was like something inside her awakened. Blue fire shot from Syrena's hand in direct opposition to the flames of the gem. The wild blue fire burned out the other flames and the light of the gem leaving Syrena once again in darkness.

Syrena managed to make her way out and when she told her father what had happened it was clear he was frightened. He told her never to mention this to anyone and in future to avoid touching strange objects. Several days later the harvest season arrived and all the children were called to work alongside the adults to bring in that years crops. When the work was done the village had their annual Harvest Dance.

The Harvest Dance was always fun. After a full year the town gathered to blow off steam and celebrate their hard work. Syrena's father played the fiddle like a demon and it was always enjoyable to dance to his raucous beats. During the dance Syrena heard one of the children insulting her father, calling him a layabout because though he was a craftman and a genius with his hands, an injury sustained a few months before Syrena was left to him had crippled him with a severe limp that stopped him from being able to help during the harvest season.

Angry that anyone would insult her father she turned to look at him. "What did you say?" she demanded. Knowing who she was and apparently not caring the boy responded. "Your father's a layabout and good for nothing deadbeat. You got something to say about it?" Syrena hit him. He hit her back. Farming communities in this area tending to lack any sort of rule concerning hitting girls.

Syrena grabbed his arm not sure exactly what she was going to do when her hand suddenly felt hot and blue flames burst from her fingers. She let go of the boy immediately. Even she could see his arm was disturbingly burned. The music came to a grinding halt as everyone turned to stare. Syrena's father limped off the little musician's platform and said "We better go."

He took her to the monastery, for the next several days she stayed there. Early in the morning her father would come and lock himself in his workshop with Brother Malachi. Almost a week past before he showed her what they'd been working on. It was a tome but like none she'd ever seen before. It bore inscriptions and symbols on the cover that she identified with fire tomes she'd seen her father work on but the cover was a brilliant blue. He told her it was a one of a kind tome called Arma Infernum. Brother Malachi had helped him to create it. The book was designed not only to channel magic but also to contain it so Syrena would never hurt anyone again.

It became clear very quickly that Syrena was no long welcome in the village. So Brother Malachi allowed her to live at the monastery. There were other monks there but they mostly kept to themselves. Now that she was aware of the fire within her blood Syrena could feel it raging within her, just below the skin searching for a way to burst out. Syrena became reclusive and shy not wanting to go near people she might hurt. When she grew angry or frightened her flames would attempt to escape and the symbols on Arma Infernum would begin to glow. Syrena knew about the possibility that the tome wouldn't be able to control her fire if she became too out of the control.

Brother Malachi taught her mediation techniques to help keep her powers under control but on occasion when she felt it so fiercely within her Syrena would go to an isolated area in the wilderness where nothing was flammable and just let the flames rage. Nearly a year after she came to live at the monastery her father told her that he had appealed on her behalf to the Bravura royal family and they had agreed to let her apprentice the kingdom's Arch Mage. He would teach her how to control her powers. She was at the palace for two months before being assigned to the Reclaimers.

Rationale: Syrena was accepted by the Bravura royal family to apprentice with one of there highest ranking mages. When the Basileus ordered the Reclaimers formed the Arch Mage had taken seriously ill being almost sixty years old. Syrena was deployed in his place.

Appearance:


She has long blond hair that she ties in a ponytail or braid when doing something physical but when in a social situation she prefers to have it in her eyes. She's not that tall only being about 5'6". She's quick on her feet and lithe in build. She's had no formal training in thievery but she moves like she has. Silent feet and quick movements. She can climb nearly anything. Her skin is fair and her eyes are silver. Though when she is in distress and her magic starts to grow unstable her eyes glow a brilliant blue and sometimes her veins.

Unless a special occupation calls for something else Serena traditionally wears cloths like the ones she grew up in. Farm cloths. A simple brown dress with a loose skirt and short sleeves and work boots.

Since coming to court Syrena also wears a forest green mages cloak over top of this.

Name: Marcus Ambrosias
Age: 36
Class: Priest (Technically a Monk but there's not much difference)

Weapons: Blackwood Staff, Mend Crystal, Warp Crystal, Sleep Crystal, Aurora Tome (essentially a Divine Tome except lighter and has a page from a Nosferatu Tome placed in the center as a reminder), Keeps Sleep Crystal on a chain around his neck. As long as another stone isn't in his staff he can use it like this. In most cases he uses his Sleep Crystal to put those suffering into a deep sleep to save them suffering, whether they be dying or healing.

Fighting Style: Marcus is a pacifist. He follows his orders teachings very closely and only resorts to violence in dire circumstances. He believes violence to be necessary but his view of when it is called for is far narrower than most other peoples. When forced to fight Marcus is more than capable. Trained by his master in staff fighting and martial arts Marcus’s fighting style dictates that his opponent be taken down in the cleanest and most efficient means possible. Causing the least permanent damage and pain while still removing the target as a threat. Marcus uses his Blackwood staff as a weapon and while it may not be effective on armored foes is more than capable of taking out most other units. Of course this is always a last resort when the alternatives would cost lives.

Personality: Despite his history Marcus is neither sullen nor withdrawn. He is actually a fairly social person who enjoys the company of others. It is not uncommon for him to be seen throwing back a tankard of ale with a couple of friends. He is under most circumstances calm and patient and tries to do his best to give anyone who might need him his time. He avoids talking about his past at all costs. Not violently or obviously but he has a rather slick way of deflecting questions regarding who he was before the monastery. Despite not being capable of channeling dark magic anymore Marcus still possesses a vast store of knowledge regarding its rituals and practices. He tries to make everyone else a priority over himself especially in battle. He has a tendency to go in deeper than is wise for someone who compared to the others lacks battle skills if someone is in danger and needs healing. He always has a Warp Crystal on hand in case someone needs to be pulls out of a situation. One of the only things that causes Marcus to lose his cool is seeing dark magic applied in an amoral fashion and magic related to dragons.

History: Marcus grew up in the dry lands of Panoply. He was an only child and he never knew his father. His mother Gwendolyn came from old money and was head of a very successful mining operation. As one of Panoply’s only vastly available resources those that could capitalize effectively on it became very rich. As well as shipping gravel and stone to various cities for construction Gwendolyn’s operation also uncovered vast stores of gens which could be refined and used for magical purposes or sold, sometimes both. Because of his mother’s occupation Marcus is very familiar with navigating underground structures.

Gwendolyn was not an easy woman to live with. She one of a very small sect that worshiped the Black Dragon Medeus. Her studies and worship taught Gwendolyn how to master a number of different types of dark magic which she insisted that Marcus also learn whether he wanted to or not.

When Marcus was sixteen years old he ran away from home. He was tired of the lifestyle his mother was forcing on him, tired of being groomed to take over the family business and tired having magic forced down his throat (metaphorically speaking).

Marcus didn’t take much with him, some cloths, a bit of gold and one of his mother’s copies of Nosferatu, life stealing magic. Marcus then traveled, wandering the lands. He never wanted for a place to sleep. Sometimes he took mercenary jobs to raise quick cash but mostly he held the threat of Nosferatu over people’s heads. Threatening to steal years from their lives if he wasn’t given what he wanted. This didn’t of course always work and Marcus often found himself sleeping in the wilderness.

Power has a way of attracting the power hungry. It wasn’t long before Marcus had a small band of other dark mages or people wanting to learn dark magic. They were all teenagers, including Marcus there were six in all.

Three years they were together. They became something of a legend. They took what they wanted from people and didn’t care about the consequences. People started referring to them as the Black Dragon Guard because whenever they raided someone Marcus always wore a cloak he’d stolen from his mother which was emblazoned with the symbol of Medeus.

There was a certain piece of magic that the group was particularly fond of. They would sedate one of their number then use a very specialized version of Goetia magic to summon a spirit of the dead to possess that person. While they were unconscious and strengthened by the spirit the rest of the group would take turns feeding on them with Nosferatu. The harm at least short term from doing this was minimal and it provided everyone with an indescribable high.

As anyone could guess however it went wrong. The group performed the rituals just as they always had. Preparing the host, summoning the spirit but this time something was different. When the group started to use Nosferatu they didn’t gain energy and that high from the spirit but instead the spirit started to feed on the magic turning it back on them. It took the strength of the entire group to dispel the spirit and send it back to the underworld but in the process the one the spirit had possessed was killed.

It was like each member of the Black Dragon Guard had woken up. As though the last three years were some sort of dream and now they were faced with the harsh cruel reality of what they had done. The group continued for another month but soon enough it fell apart. Marcus parted from the others shortly thereafter.

While he’d traveled Marcus had felt invincible, he had power and the willingness to use it and it seemed he could do anything he pleased, no guilt, no consequences. This feeling shattered completely once he realized that it was his fault, he had killed one of his closest friends.

Marcus wandered for the next three months. Going from place to place like a zombie. He slept, he ate, he walked but he seemed to feel nothing, as though the entire world was dead around him.

After three months he stumbled upon a monastery. Hungry, he knocked on their doors to beg for food. The one who opened the door was an old man, the high priest. He was a skilled healer both of the mind and the body. He offered Marcus a place to stay for the night and in the end they talked for hours about morality and consequence and atonement.

When the next morning came Marcus begged the high priest to let him join there order. To teach him how to repair lives the way he’d torn them to pieces before. Tentatively the High Priest agreed.

Over the next 17 years or so the High Priest taught Marcus meditation and reflection. He showed him different ways to look at the world and he taught him the art of healing. Slowly over the years Marcus learned how to repair people instead of destroy them and as he learned to heal slowly he lost the ability to channel the dark magicks his mother had trained him in. (This can effectively be considered a class change).

At the monastery Marcus was also taught martial arts and staff combat with emphasis on the fact that being able to fight was meant to reduce the necessity of it. Present day Marcus is trying to become skilled in the use of Light Magic hoping that once and for all it can purge the darkness from his soul. Though he carries the magic tome Aurora everywhere he can only use it to make small flashes of light that last seconds and have little effect on anything. (This foreshadows a class promotion to something that uses staves and tomes). His tome is special in that it has a page from his mother’s Nosferatu bound into the center of it. He can’t actually use the magic on the page but the black magic scrawled in angry spiked runes reminds him why he trains and must continue to do so.

Rationale: To make sure the Reclaimers where prepared for whatever might happen the Basileus requested that monasteries send in a healer to provide support in battle, tend to the wounded afterwards, perform burial rights should it be necessary and give the soldier's morale and spiritual support which sometimes becomes lost in war. Marcus agreed to go with the Reclaimers out of a real eagerness to help and also in the hope that the mages among the Reclaimers might be able to teach him how to properly channel light magic.

Appearance:
Marcus shaves his head as is customary for his order. He has a prominent nose and chin and dark blue eyes that in the right light almost look black. Traditionally he wears his monk’s robes which while easy to move in conceal his figure almost completely. Underneath the robes Marcus is well muscled and he wears orange loose fitting cloths that traditionally were worn during sparring practice. His skin is pale as he spends a lot of time within the monastery.

Name: Sanguin (Heather Buren)

Age: 20
Class: Myrmidon

Weapons: Wyrmslayer (“Obsidian Scimitar”)

Fighting Style: Sanguin tends to fight more defensively than most Myrmidons. Both her shield and the fact that her weapon is one-sided lend themselves to this. Hers is a highly mobile style, constantly moving both her feet and the weapons themselves, to keep opponents on their toes and move around opponents' attacks and defense both. Her blade's sharp edge is effective against cloth, ringmail, and flesh, but not of much use against heavier armor. As a Wyrmslayer, it is also great against dragons.

Personality: On the scale of morality, Sanguin stands at chaotic neutral.  She is competitive, self-serving, proud, and aggressive when challenged to the point of seeming maniacal when fighting.  Generally, Sanguin will gravitate toward what's right or what's best, but she harbors a disrespect for authority and a tendency to make immoral choices in the line of what's right and what's best, making her somewhat Machiavellian.  Despite this she is very social and often considerate to strangers when it doesn't infringe on her own goals.  An important element to note is that Sanguin is metaphorically asexual; she is not attracted to either gender, and finds romance stupid and sex appalling.  All in all, Sanguin can best be described as 'wild', now that she's partially become her mask. Before adopting the persona of Sanguin, Heather was far less wild, thought still headstrong.

History:  Sanguin's was never an easy life.  She was born in the medical tent of the mercenary company Razor Wolves to a camp follower impregnated by a soldier after a particularly grueling battle.  The mother chose her company well; the Razor Wolves seized victory on every battlefield they took, and even the lowly camp followers managed to scrape together a passable existence from day to day.  Despite this, the months of pregnancy in a mobile, at times hostile environment took an irredeemable toll on hey, and she died during childbirth.  Whether goaded into doing so by guilt, responsibility, honor, or passion, the father -named Yoric- swore that he would take charge on the baby should he survive the final battle in the Razor Wolves' campaign.  Fortune smiled on the child; the soldier survived and took the girl back with him to his home village, where he worked as a mason and served as a sheriff. 

It would seem that young Heather was destined for the mercenary life, however.  The onset of the war between Bravura and Panoply meant that the peace was under siege once more.  Men flocked to the battlefields, drawn by duty, gold, or glory.  Heather, then seventeen years old and truant as they come, tagged along with her reluctant father but promised to stay away from the actual fighting—as was wise of a women untrained in war.  At first, it seemed like the aging soldier's luck held true, and he survived (if not triumphed) in every skirmish he fought in.  Fate eventually caught up with Yoric at the Minstrel's Crossing, a wooden bridge spanning a rushing river, one day after a drawn-out battle finally ended in retreat.  The platoon in which Yoric was serving (no longer part of the Razor Wolves, instead the Bravuran Royal Army) was ambushed by a trio of witches, who demanded payment for crossing the bridge.

When the irritable, fatigued soldiers brusquely refused, the wrathful witches unleashed dark magic upon them. Using the ancient spell Verrine, they lay waste to the platoon. Terrified, Heather was unable to move, but Yoric threw himself in front of her to shield her. Cackling, the witches vanished, leaving the soldiers to a slow death. Heather and a few of the others not badly affected by the massive curse ventured out to get help, and after half a day trekking, found a town occupied by Bravuran forces. The soldiers were saved, but ever afterward, Yoric's spark had left him. Instead of returning to war, he spent a year teaching his daughter how to fight with a blade before falling ill. With nobody else left, Heather was forced to rejoin the war, using her new skills in battle to get by. During this time she adopted the persona of Sanguin, using a crimson wolf mask she recovered on a battlefield, venting her stress and traces of madness in wild behavior. All this did not occur without her knowledge, though, and she realized that if the war were to continue, she'd never be able to physically or mentally settle down, and eventually she'd lose her mind.

Rationale: Knowing that the persona she'd created to vent her stress, anger, and energy would eventually override her true self -that she'd 'become the mask'- should the war continue, Sanguin explicitly sought any venture with the war's end in mind. She originally wanted to be an ambassador for Bravura, or at least a bodyguard present at the peace summit, but the Basileus looked at her and decided she'd be better suited as a Reclaimer, and was one of the first recruited.

Appearance: Dark, ashy skin, flat features, hazel eyes, and spiky red hair lie beneath Sanguin's crimson wolf mask. Her 5'5” 156-pound frame captures a sturdy physique and fairly impressive musculature, though thoroughly hidden beneath blue cloth and vermillion-hued armor. On her left arm is a short shield, part hide and part the same metal as her gear.

Name: Hugh Talbain

Age: 28

Class: Knight

Weapons: Iron Lance (Big Stabbie), three javelins

Fighting Style: When fighting, Hugh prefers to keep his opponents at a medium range. He uses his pike to encourage enemies not to get too close, and throws javelins to make sure that they don't wander too far. Rather lightly armored for a knight, Hugh also puts a slightly higher agility and greater stamina to use when fighting, not allowing himself to become a sitting target. Despite his preference for range, he can usually be found at the front lines, serving as protection for archers and spellslingers behind him.

Personality: Surprisingly jovial, Hugh displays a propensity for high-flown, dramatic language, a taste for similes, and a knack for employing theater-related jargon in his everyday speech, all clearly the product of his origin. Coupled with that is a rather aggressive, determined methodology; he doesn't give up easily, whether in a debate, a fight, or a desired relationship, and will seldom back down from a challenge and never back down from a promise. That doesn't mean he can't be a cunning combat pragmatist at times, however. Though not the smartest man out there, his instincts and hunches generally serve him well. He greatly dislikes getting wet, which includes being sweaty.

History: Hugh grew up, not as a warrior, but as an actor. The second son of a performing couple, whose talent and status as rare entertainers in Augus marked them as well-off, he was happy to adopt the roll that life had seemingly made for him, alongside his older brother and soonafter younger sister. Despite sharing the Talbain knack for stagecraft, Hugh found less and less excitement in the in a northern land that was little to him but dreary and chilly. Taking a holiday from the troupe, he traveled through the frigid kingdom in search of something fascinating, and one day happened upon two knights dueling in a frozen forest. Before his eyes, the two knights battled one another in a stunning display of strength and prowess, but before long the combat ended with one knight's death.

After the victor had taken his leave, Hugh approached the fallen warrior and, possessed of what he deemed nothing less than a brilliant idea, liberated the noble corpse of his armor and lance. Leveraging his skills as an actor, Hugh spent the next two months masquerading as an honorable knight, pursuing brigands and helping citizens with a hammily heroic, chivalrous grace, though people were slow to warm up to him. One day, however, Hugh happened upon a fellow knight in the town of Roulbridge, and before a crowd of onlookers the other knight vehemently denounced Hugh as a ghoul risen from the dead, and attacked Hugh with furious abandon. After a few moments of panicked battle, Hugh was forced to shed his helmet, receiving numerous facial cuts, and beg for his life, spilling his story about how he'd taken the fallen knight's armor. Afterward, his attacker -Sir Alderwick of Bravura- explained that the warrior from which Hugh had taken his armor had been a fallen knight, responsible for a half-dozen murders in cold blood. Feeling terrible, Hugh asked the knight's forgiveness, but Alderwick did one better. He offered to take the actor beneath his wing and train him as an actual knight, and after speaking with his family, Hugh departed with glee.

Hugh's training took him to Bravura's capitol, where he learned the proper way of fighting. After gaining the nickname 'North' on his first day, Hugh took it to heart, modeling his combat gear after Augusian battlewear. After his training was complete, the aging Alderwick gave Hugh his place before retiring, and Hugh became a friend of the Basileus in Alderwick's stead.

Rationale: Already a friend of the Basileus, Hugh only needed a couple months' service in the war between Bravura and Panoply to realize that a resolution was desperately needed, and signed on to the Basileus's venture without hesitation.

Appearance: Tall, and with a lean musculature, Hugh has a shock of dark hair above closely-cropped sides. Thick eyebrows overlook dull green eyes and a face covered in scars. Beneath a short red neckscarf are several woven pendants with brass rings, and. A brown woven shirt blends closely with dark, hide gauntlets and fauld, and armor made of brass and steel. Tufts of white fur appear on several parts of his garb, and his left gauntlet is more heavily armored than the right, with adorning spikes.

Name: Kel Forund and Druug.
Age: 24
Class: Wyvern Rider
Weapons: Iron poleax, Hand ax, Hammer
Fighting Style: Lead with a hand ax, rush in with the Iron ax/hammer, hit once then pull back and rush in for the kill, follow through and circle back to friendly skies.

Personality: Lazy begins to describe Kel outside of battle. Kel seems to exist in another world where instead of a soldier he is the king. He's not the most disciplined or serious wyvern rider the army had to offer, but he is the most enthusiastic about flying and playing around with his partner. A bond powerful enough that some are convinced there is a scroll hidden away in some ancient ruin fortelling of the pair's meeting and friendships, he spends more time with Druug than he does actual people. The pair have destroyed many a training dummy and a few rabbits... ok a lot of rabbits while sharing a laugh. They play wrestle and sleep almost all of the day. Kel tends to think far too highly of himself and often ignores orders form those who aren't two or three ranks above him or not pointing a weapon at him.

History: Kel, born and raised in a city, living a "perfect life" as his parents would say. His parents were farmers who by means of pure luck bought there way into the city just to raise their pride and joy, Kel's sister Jace. She picked up a tome when she was nine and cast a the spell in it on the first try, and ever since then, confined herself in a study, occasionally showing her face to the world and shoving Kel further into obscurity. His parents, because of this, pressured Jace very hard leaving Kel to do almost whatever he wanted without any pressure. because of this, he became near sedentary. He never even attempted to strive for greatness, since Jace already had that covered, and he went unnoticed until he was 18 when his father decided to come home with a flier he found on the road. It was a military recruitment poster and you'l never guess who he gave it to. Kel was shipped out within the day, his room replaced with yet another study for his sister Jace. Living hell part one began.

On his way to his first training session, he heard a loud BANG come from the direction of his old house, followed by a familiar scream. It was Jace, but nobody seemed to be hurt, as her parents were staring out of his old window which now had a bit of smoke coming out of it. Jace ran up to him and begged him not to go, not to leave her with their parents. She hated the pressure, and the only time she felt good was with him around. She begged and begged for him to stay, but the look his father gave him said he had to stay out. So he did, and so did Jace. Jace joined the military as well, starting off as a mage but eventually disappeared without a trace, leaving just a note that read 'Kel, you'll see me again some day. I took a pegasus and left all my books. Turns out I'm good with a lance. These guys gave me a great offer, hope to see you soon! I promise to write you. -Jace.' Kel searched for days but couldn't get anywhere on foot. He still receives letters from Jace, and his search has stopped. She's happy where she is.

Druug was a wyvern born in the wilds and captured just special for Kel. There was one thing very special about the catch, and it was the difficulty of it. The wyvern put up no fight at all, it nearly slept all the way through the process of being captured. This wyvern was given to Kel, the newest soldier who decided to pick up an ax since he got to training late and it was the only thing left to grab. He was fairly ok with it, but he didn't train with it hard until he saw Druug. At that point it had no name, but he named him right then and there. He swore to his captain he would do whatever it took to get to ride that wyvern and the commander laughed in his face. Druug noticed this and FINALLY woke up, flying off the cart, as nobody tied him down since he seemed so comfortable with the ride there. Druug grabbed Kel by the collar of his armor and flew away heading for... well a few feet outside camp. Nowhere too far. From that point on the commander held Druug as the only incentive for Kel to train, and train he did. And slack off, he did that too. Eventually, he was promoted and FINALLY given wyern rider armor. He wasn't the most deadly with his axe, but now he was a lot scarier with a wyvern beneath him. The two would bond over the years and eventually make enough of a mark on the rest of the soldiers, and a good one at that.

Rationale: Mostly just to get away from his old captain. An adventure seems much more comfortable than training day in day out, plus he finally gets to LEGALLY fly around the continent with Druug. He also feels this is the only way to find his sister, and distance himself from his parents as well.

Appearance:

Name: Jace Forund and Xavia
Age: 27
Class: Pegasus knight
Weapons: Shock Stick, Steel lance Javelin
Fighting Style: Very similar to Kel, but a tad more...playful. Lead with a javelin and circle with the shock stick from a range while taunting the target, if the enemy decides to get close switch to lance and take the offensive with a wild and fast charge until target is down, and then move onto the next.

Personality: Ever since she left the army and disappeared, she has grown a tad bit morbid. Jace seeks out fights and when she wins makes sure to point out that she could kill the person had it been serious. She doesn't talk of death as if it is something wonderful or happy. She fears it and uses that fear to scare others and intimidate them. She is calculating as well, she rarely acts out of a gut instinct, but rather from careful watch and follow through. She can be fun at times as well, but nothing like Kel would tell you. Her jokes aren't that funny and she works far too hard all the time. Her parent's pressure was good for one thing and that's her work ethic, as she never stops until a job is done or a man slain.

History: Jace was born first into a family who had just worked their way into a city from a farm she lived on until she was 4. She was the older sibling of 2, with a younger brother named Kel, who she so longed to be. At a young age she was gifted a tome from a local library, ass she would constantly sit inside and read of the fantastic stories of mages in the past. Little did she nor the librarian know that she would be able to cast the spell, and not only that, she could cast it well. For the first few days this gift was just that, a gift. She was proud of it, and she couldn't wait to show off to her little brother who was still running around spreading his arms and pretending to fly. Flying sounded fun, but sadly she didn't know any magic to do that yet.

Once her parents finally found her casting a simple elfire spell behind their house, they basically locked her inside. They forced her to study magic harder and harder as the years went on, buying her book after book. She wasn't the best mage in the land, not by a long shot but her parents didn't care. Her 'gift' was all they cared about, and she could see it. She watched her younger brother fade out of their lives, out of everyone's lives. Nobody pressured him to succeed like they did her. She envied him. She wanted to waste a day not doing anything but walking around as if nothing important had to be done but she couldn't and she hated her parents for it.

Eventually, as Kel grew older he was finally noticed. Jace's desk was full of books, as well as the shelves that now lined her room. How she loathed those books. She loathed magic as well, thinking of her gift now more as a curse. But with this lack of space came creative thinking from her father, who immediately sent Kel packing off for the army. That was it, that was the last straw. There would be no more magic in her life without her brother. She needed him more than anything. So she chased after him, casting an elthunder at her parents burning whatever book was open on her desk. In there rush to put it out she ran to Kel and begged him to stay, but in the end left with him to join the army as well.

This was one of the first times she got to explore something other than her magic ability. She picked up a lance and practiced for years. While training a strange man from the mountains of Aracid approached her and several others. He offered them glory and many other things, such as money or women. Nobody accepted save her, and she planned her escape. She drafted a letter to her brother, and during a practice flight she flew away. The man who gave her the letter provided his own pegasus just for her to escape with. Everyone may think her a thief but she's only a deserter. When she got to Aracid she wrote more letters to her brother, but couldn't figure out how to break the news to him that she was fighting for someone else.

Over the years she went from sheltered mage to a vicious tactile pegasus knight. She had earned a name for herself among the local settlements as a powerful protector. She wore bone shaped steel armor to strike fear into her enemies, who rightly feared even before the new getup. She hoped one day to return to her brother. She had no fear of one day meeting him in battle. He wasn't cut out for the military, and even if he did make it past basic, there was no way he could keep up with her unless he found a way to fly like her. She continues to send him letters as if nothing about her has changed, because she's afraid he'll think poorly of her new, more murderous self.

Rationale: Distancing herself from her old life was all she needed. Once out however, the freedom and power she had over herself went to her head and excape turned into control, control turned into power and power lead to glory. She's in it for the history books.

Appearance:

Name: Taene
Age: Much older than he looks.
Class: Kindred; Manakete
Weapons: Dragonstone, Ice Breath, a dagger for emergencies.
Fighting Style: Despite Taene's ancestry/draconic heritage, he fights very calmly and with an odd grace that distinguishes him from any other beast of his kind. He takes special care to remain non-lethal unless instructed otherwise.

Personality: The easiest way to describe Taene would most likely be "Bored." He's a very quiet and stoic individual who tends to dismiss people and things for the aggressive pursuit of thrill. Having lived many years of life more than most of the people he knows now, Taene's no longer content with the life that he lives and lusts for something much grander and meaningful. Due to his feelings about this, he tends to come off as rude to people that don't know him well. Does he have some redeeming traits under his cold exterior? Kind of..? He is a very diligent worker despite not finding satisfaction where he is and has a high amount of pride for his work. At times, Taene can even be very loyal and protective, but only when he has the energy or the effort to even fight without being commanded to.

As previously mentioned, Taene can be described as a selfish thrill seeker. He bides his energy, then uses it in random bursts in the pursuit of something more than he has. This tends to lead to him acting impulsively and even idiotically in any situation where this urge rears its ugly head. He has quite a few scars on his body from occasions where he would throw himself into the heat of a battle or even simply demand someone stab him to initiate a challenge of some sort. When challenged, he refuses to back down from said challenge no matter what, unless he sees very clearly that it'd lead to his death. And, despite Taene's lack of tact when it comes to his job, he refuses to leave in the middle of a deployment and avoids drawing attention to his partners as much as he can.

History: Some time ago, Taene was born to a large tribe of Manaketes living in a jungle to remain mostly hidden from the humans that lived in the surrounding areas. The Manaketes did want to avoid conflict at the time, and simply watched the humans tear each other apart from afar for several years as Tae grew up. His mother and father were very protective of him after having spent years trying to birth a child and they garnered the envy of some of the other couples in the tribe who couldn't have a child no matter what major deity they prayed to. This lead to Taene wishing that he could be a bit more free in his actions instead of having to be under the watch of his family almost constantly. Tales of Manaketes who could transform to their "True Form" lead to him idolizing these heroes from the past and wondered if he would ever be able to do so.

As he got on in the years, albeit never appearing any older than about eight or nine, Tae became more and more aware of the threat that humans posed towards Manaketes and pushed to become a soldier for his tribe. His parents tried to stop him on several occasions, but his father eventually gave in and convinced his wife that he would do it anyway even if they were to stop him. So, into training Taene was thrown so that he could learn how to use a weapon competently and he trained diligently during his training. But more and more he wished that he could become one of the grand heroes that he heard tales about from the elders of his tribe.

Taene couldn't have graduated at a better time, it would've seemed, because only a couple of moons after his training was finished one of the smaller villages that was situated around his home. This was his time, Tae thought as he prepared for battle. He ran out there ready to be a hero and found out that it was much harder than he thought. Despite the advantage that the Manaketes carried due to knowing the more dense areas of the jungle like the backs of their hands, they still got hurt pretty bad. Slashed up, stabbed, etc. During one of many excursions that took place during this little mini-war, Taene was stabbed in the shoulder from behind and in return, killed the man that attacked him. When he returned to the village, he was hysterical and no one could comfort him despite many people telling him that he was justified in his actions. It took time, but he was finally able to go back into the field without losing his composure. But the death of the man haunted him as he wondered what the human's family reacted to receiving the news that he was killed almost every night as he lay trying to sleep.

Fast forward a couple hundred years, a generation or two of war in the human village and allies of the humans coming and going, Manakete innocents were being killed while doing things they had spent their entire lives doing as a job to help their community. The elders decided that enough was enough and that they were not going to take the deaths of their people sitting down. Word spread fast throughout the village that authorization was given for Dragonstones to be used by the older soldiers to help put an end to the war. A few of the more rebellious soldiers decided that they were going to steal from the stockpile of Dragonstones so that they could help out. Since Taene had a couple of friends that were among this group despite them being somewhat older than him, they snagged him a Dragonstone and Tae kept it hidden well and found himself excited almost constantly due to the chance that had been presented to him to finally be like his heroes. Him and the other rebels followed the older team out into the forest to the village that had been attacking them during the night, although he was lagging a bit behind due to the fact that he was having issue simply moving through the forest without being completely paranoid. When he caught up, what he saw made his skin crawl. Taene saw the people that he'd known for years utterly destroying the opposing village with reckless abandon, even the younger cadets had joined in and were smashing apart buildings and killing livestock. Taene couldn't take it, and he took off in a random direction running into the jungle trying to escape before they saw that he was there in a completely uncalled for neurotic frenzy. It was only when he stopped to catch his breath that he realized that he'd ventured off into a part of the jungle that he didn't know. He wandered aimlessly for hours trying to get back to his tribe. Hours turned to days. And he sat in the jungle, dirty, tired, eating raw meat for survival when he finally saw it. There were dragons flying about overhead, maybe looking for him. But how would he get their attention? Taene remembered, suddenly.

He reached into his pants and retrieved the gem that he had forgotten about during his desperate attempts at survival in the jungle. But he didn't know how it worked. Tried, tried, tried, and he watched as his salvation flew overhead over and over again and more slowly each time. Tae realized his chances for survival were slipping away from him every second that he waited, and his instincts kicked in. Suddenly he found himself transformed into a large blue dragon, pushing away all sorts of foliage around himself. This caught the attention of the rescuer who landed and lead Tae back to the camp as a humanoid after teaching him as well as they could how to turn back. The rescuer assumed that Taene had just been flying with his authorization and had harmed his wing somehow and Taene didn't attempt to dissuade him from thinking that. When he returned home, he was greeted with open arms and waggling fingers. They found out about the Dragonstone and confiscated it from him, suspending his position as a soldier.

As luck would have it, after attacking the village, the Manaketes were never faced with much more challenge from anywhere in the area. They assumed most of the other villages assumed it was just too far and not worth the danger to attack them any further. So they all resumed their normal, boring lives. Tae. Couldn't. Stand it. Despite his break-downs and utter lack of tact when it came to being a soldier, he missed the position greatly as it was the only exciting thing to happen around town. He waited for several hundreds of years for something to happen aside from wars between the humans, but nothing ever came. Tae decided that he was done waiting. One night, while everyone wasn't paying too much attention or were asleep, he sneaked his way into the stockpile of Dragonstones and stole a particularly breathtaking one that twinkled and sparkled with blue and white glimmers across its surface. He also took enough provisions to last him, and he set off into the jungle but this time with an idea of where he was going. He made his way to a human village where he was greeted with open arms, if not intense amounts of fear towards him. Tae settled down in the village and took jobs scaring people. Not killing them, unless he had to, but more putting the fear of Naga into them. For a LONG time he did this, so long that he became a very important name in this village. People came from everywhere to attack him, meet him, hire him. All the while, he was very slowly maturing physically and becoming more and more bored with what he was doing once more. It became a chore to him, eventually, that which used to be a something to avoid living life like a chore. That was when he was approached by a recently formed mercenary group that said they would require his services. He told the leader repeatedly that he wasn't going to go for it and that he was retiring, but they kept pestering him over and over again to join to the point where he finally snapped and said yes. But only under one condition: He wouldn't be deployed for simple missions like everyone else.

At first, this was considered insane. He would essentially never work but would still get paid. But they hired him anyway, leading Taene to believe that he'd suckered them. However, whenever he was relaxing on the job, a girl would approach him and give him some sort of inspiring speech or pep-talk about how he'd probably find himself more interested if he actually tried and etc. like that. And, despite his skepticism about her stupidly optimistic words, Tae always fell for it and did the job. Little did he know, this girl was his superior, and she was good at letting him know without ruining the illusion.

Rationale: Taene would join The Reclaimers because it's the break that he's been looking for for a few centuries now. A chance to do something more meaningful with his life and maybe do something a bit more interesting.

Appearance:
While he's not a flying fancy reptilian, Taene spends his time as a stone-faced bipedal humanoid male. His skin is quite pale and smooth, and his features are very definite; like a soft jaw, lightly sunken-in cheeks, and thin lips which typically press together into a scowl of complete and utter disappointment. Even when he's attempting to be friendly, or is simply relaxing. His ebony black hair flows down a bit past his shoulder when it's down, but he often ties it up into a ponytail whenever he's out on a mission. His clothing is very exorbitant and serves to add to his facial features to make him look quite noble. Tae's Dragonstone is on a string of beads which he wears around his neck at times, and he holds a dagger at his side for use when he can't make good use of being a dragon. His draconic nature is quite noticeable at times, with his longer ears, sharp nails, pointed teeth, and wings protruding from his back.

As for bodily figure, Taene's very fit. He exercises almost daily, a habit among many that he's built over his years of life. He stands very tall, with his back straight and his arms crossed over his chest when waiting for instruction. His hands, despite being quite large and capable of inflicting a good amount of damage, are tended too very well and have a very dainty look to them with the nails filed and a surprising lack of scars despite the battlefield that his chest look like. His chest, brought up in the previous sentence, would have quite the story to tell if it could speak. It's covered all over with different kinds of scars. Stabs, pierces, slashes, etc etc. These scars are actually a great pride of his, and if you bring them up, he'll get into a very enthusiastic conversation with you about them.


Tae's appearance as a dragon is quite elegant, all things considered. A large, light blue dragon with large plate-like scales that overlap very tightly on his under belly to form a good natural armor for the softest part of his body. The rest of his scales are very typical dragon scales with an ovular form that tapers off into a point at the edge which is the part that most people see when looking at him. His scales are quite reflective and twinkle when he's in the light.

As for limbs, Taene has two arms and two legs which are pretty proportionate to his body and he can use well enough to carry himself on the ground, other people in the air, and even lift things when he needs to. His arms are attached to his wings at the "pit" of sorts. Taene's wings are made of a semi-rubbery membrane which is present in most dragon wings. The edges of the membrane have an odd sort of red tint to them that really serves no purpose. Tail-wise, Taene has a long-ish tail with spines going all the way down it to the very tip which have an orange membrane in the areas in between. His tail ends in two barbs.

The most important part of a dragon (arguably), the head, is one of the more interesting parts of Taene's dragon form. It has a rounded snout which tapers into a sharp point which overlaps his bottom jaw. Inside his mouth, there are several rows of very sharp teeth that wouldn't feel very good in someone's leg. The back end of Taene's head tapers into two horns that point off into the side which are seemingly made of several layers. In between the horns, on the top of the head, the tip of the chin, and on the bottom sides of the jaws there are spines which are filled in by orange membranes similar to those of his tail.