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Significant NPCs will receive character sheets here for convenience when they are encountered or mentioned.

Name: John Preston

Age: 29

Gender: Male

Faction: Empire of Arcartus

Appearance: John is a statue of near physical perfection. Standing roughly 6'2'', and weighing 190lbs, John is covered in muscles. Given, these muscles are nearly all 'glamour' muscles, being much more for show than for practical use. Falling down in locks onto his shoulders, John possesses a wonderful blonde head of hair, slightly curled at the ends, and always taken care of. Piercing blue eyes complete the Preston image, becoming the stereotypical Preston heir, rich in physical features and in personal wealth. A constant shadow of a growing beard adorns Preston's face, giving his otherwise soft face a bit of ruggedness to it, and also adding to his already considerable sex appeal. Preston's body language on the surface is that of a man whom is always relaxed, but also always seems to be in control of a situation.

Clothes/Armor: Preston only wears the finest clothes he can. Too often is his casual evening wear is what most considered to be extravagant formal wear. Normally preferring his soft shell pink three piece suit, along with a wicker boater hat with a red band around the base, along with black and white dress loafers, his clothing can vary in a range that impresses even the most fashionable of individuals, often packing entire carriages full of clothing in order to prepare his wardrobe. Preston opts out of wearing any type of protection on his personal, instead opting for the more fashionable spectrum of the clothing plane. Despite his heavy emphasis on looking great, which causes the most composed to wither in the sun in such clothing, Preston never seems to sweat or ever tire of his clothing, always looking like perfection.

Weapons: Preston carries no such protection on his person, preferring to simply keep his bodyguard close to himself. Normally picking a group of 10 or so men from his estate's guard detail, Preston has instead opted for a more simple form of personal protection, which is his older cousin.

Personality: Preston considers himself a worldly person, despite lacking the inherent intelligence usually associated with such sophistication. While not dim, Preston averages around the norm with intelligence, despite being well-known as a successful businessman. Preston is also the most accommodating of individuals, and excels in personal diplomacy, quickly making friends and smoothing over slights. Speaking often frivolously, and using words he may not actually know the meaning of, it's almost obvious once one personally knows Preston that he was trained to act and speak this way, instead of actually learning it. Good natured, and intent on being known as a good person who uses his influence and power for good causes, he was, however, instilled with the national pride common in the Preston family, and will commit any act for the betterment of his nation.

History: The Preston family is as old as the nation of Arcartus, and have always been the most shrewd of businessmen. While the stretches of the Preston family can even be found digging into the pockets of the corner candy store, the main source of income comes from more violent businesses. Possessing a near monopoly on the production of cannons, and having a small part in the making of cannonballs, along with the harvesting of hard minerals, the Preston wealth borders are unimaginable. While not being nobles in the traditional sense, the Preston family certainly acts the part. The patriarch of the Preston family is expected to serve a minimum of 2 years in the Arcarti military, while also being a beacon of professional nature, and the paramount gentleman. Patriotic tendencies run deep with the Preston family, with it passing to it's newest members easily. The Preston's seat of power is the Preston Estate, also known as Preston Peak, which rests on a mountain range outside of the capital of Arcartus. The Estate covers nearly 2,000 acres, has a servile staff of nearly 100, a guard staff of roughly 80. Most of the Preston family, distant cousins and close relatives alike, house at the Estate. The Preston family often entertains both Arcarti and foreign royalty and dignities at the estate on a daily basis.

John was born into this life of luxury, raised to be a gentleman and man of duty. Serving in the Arcarti military for 2 years during a conflict known as the Lachne Civil War, he gained some insight into military matters, and soon became intensely in love with the fanfare that was the military. After ending his brief term in the Arcarti State Military, John returned home to find that his father was sick, and was on the verge of death. Quickly taking over matters and becoming the new patriarch of the Preston family, it wasn't long before his father passed. Now 29, and has been the patriarch of the Preston family for 5 years, John is seen as yet another vicious Preston businessman, but the truth couldn't be farther from this fairytale. Unlike other Preston's, John has left the business side of the family into the hands of his mother and other family members, and has focused once more on serving his nation. Serving as a tried and true diplomat, meeting with and establishing friendship with the most esteemed of guests, John has proved his worth. Time spent at his estate is short, only there to throw a party for guests, or for a quick respite before going back to serve his nation. Despite his mild philanthropy and waiving his payment from the Arcarti government for his services, terrible and vicious rumors spread about the young and wealthy man, often giving himself a bad reputation.

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Name: Jacob Preston

Age: 34

Gender: Male

Faction: Empire of Arcartus

Appearance: Jacob is a large man - tall, broad shouldered and sinewy. While not being particularly unattractive, he is also not considered as handsome as the normal Preston. Jacob has baby blue eyes. His balding hair bares only the shortest of pitch black hair, with the fringes bearing lifting off his skull, and a close-cropped beard across his large jaw. His face has a tightness to it like cured leather, and he has hollow cheeks. He has thin, pale lips. Jacob towers in conversations, but tells how reserved he really is with his body language, preferring to put distance between himself and those he talks to.

Clothing/Armor: Jacob much prefers protection to increased mobility, and this shows through his normal garb. Even in casual settings, Jacob doesn't often remove his armor, which comprises of several pieces. Wearing a set of splint mail with heavy-set plate pieces that gleam in the sun. Even in sunny weather, which is thankfully rarer in the mountains, Jacob can be found wearing his black leather coat, which reaches down past his knees, keeping it undone in the middle. Plates placed into small holes in the fabric also have added a small amount of protection to Jacob, without causing much more noise. Underneath the splint mail, Jacob wears thick hard leather long sleeved tunic, along with the same for his legs. Heavy mailed boots are also part of the armored Jacob, giving him even more protection. The equipment he wears speaks for itself when it comes to it's quality, as it looks as if he had never been worn, with only a few marks bearing the sign of any type of use. Putting the entire ensemble together, is Jacob's thick leather gloves, which he leaves untied.

Weapons: Jacob is armed to the teeth for the typical Arcarti warrior. Immediately noticed is his longsword that hangs off his side, the scabbard almost marking the ground as he walks, which bears a brown leather handle with a gold pommel. The pommel itself has an inlaid ruby, giving the sword some flair to it. The blade itself is that of a normal Arcarti long sword, although it's obviously of the highest quality the nation has to offer. Besides the long sword, Jacob keeps a dirk by his side. The dirk itself, which Jacob is fond of using in combat, is simplistic, and almost barbaric in design. The cruel blade tips upward at the very point, and the hilt itself it made from a polished bull's horn. It rests in a black scabbard, near his groin. Inside both his mailed boots, Jacob has two daggers, which have slightly extended hilts, nearly poking about the lip of his mailed boot. Finally, Jacob keeps a short sword, which rests in a sideways sheath, across the bottom of his back, allowing easy access during battle.

Personality: Jacob is a serious, stubborn, rarely-forgiving man with a strong sense of duty. He neither dissembles nor flatters, causing him to become one of the more socially incompetent Preston's. Not many emotions are known to Jacob, with not much phasing past his hard exterior. Famous in the Arcarti State Military for never giving up, and always adapting to his situation, Jacob is a man who would sooner die on a field in the middle of nowhere, rather than flee. This type of attitude shouldn't be considered with honor, however, as Jacob has little of it. Jacob instead fights to the bitter end as part of his stubborn nature, refusing to bend. During conversation, Jacob will often remain silent, or offer simple nods or basic answers to those that question him, leaving one feeling as if Jacob disliked them. However, Jacob treats every person he comes across like this, only offering the most simple of answers.

History: Jacob is a close cousin to John Preston, being a nephew to John's father. This led to the two of them spending much time growing up together. While the two never got along, Jacob also protected John when things would turn sour. Either it be from a bully or animal on the estate, Jacob dealt with the problems, often brutally, and at a young age. It was almost destiny that Jacob was meant to serve John for the rest of their days. Mastering the sword as well as any new solider could, Jacob was considered a better warrior than most foot soldiers in the military by the age of 14, spending most his days training and learning the Arcarti doctrines for war. Instead of serving the normal two years that is expected of a Preston, Jacob joined when he was 16 and didn't retire until he was 31, leaving a decorated and bloody trail in his wake. Known for ruthless fighting and even more ruthless leading, Jacob fought in a number of heavy engagements, and eventually retired as a captain, even though he could of risen farther, however such an increase in rank would prevent Jacob of being where he most loved - in the vanguard of engagements. After retiring, Jacob returned back to the Preston Estate, prepared to serve his family as dutifully as he had served his country. John instated Jacob as Head of Security of the Preston Estate, and often brought the captain on any journey he made. For three years, Jacob has served as Preston Peak's security captain, and as John's personal bodyguard.

Name: Halyn LaKruz
Age: 24
Gender: Male
Race:Human

Appearance: Halyn is a tall, well-built young man with somewhat fair skin and deep sapphire blue eyes. He stands a bit over six feet in height, with the majority of his body consisting of tightly toned muscle. He has broad shoulders and good posture, giving him a confident, sturdy appearance. Halyn's hair is a deep shade of red, reminiscent of rust, and is somewhat long, walking a fine border between passable and unkempt. His bangs are cut roughly above his eyes, with the sides and back reaching just beyond his shoulders. Halyn's left eye is covered by a coarse black eyepatch that is tied neatly beneath his hair. The young man's facial features are surprisingly soft given the hardened nature of his body. Though not feminine, his visage holds a boyish tint, further emphasized by his lack of facial hair. A single scar, thin and clean, runs up the right side of his face from the bottom of his jaw to the midpoint of his cheek. This mark, along with the eyepatch, seem somewhat out of place on the face on which they reside, though they do supply a bit of masculine compensation to their wearer's naturally youthful appearance.

Clothing: Prior to heading to his destination, Halyn used some of the coin he had earned from his mercenary escapades to purchase clothing befitting the climate of his homeland. On his head, Halyn wears a round hat made of thick black fur. The hat fits snugly, covering his ears and providing a considerable amount of warmth. LaKruz also wears a long cloak made of the same ink-black fur. The cloak, which appears to have been permanently borrowed from a large bear, is thick and cozy, perfect for the long trek through the mountains leading to Geltreis. It reaches the midpoint of Halyn's shin, and is somewhat loose-fitting. The garment fastens at the neck with a silver brooch bearing the emblem of a two-headed elk. The symbol originates from the LaKruz family crest, and was likely taken when Halyn left the country and kept close for many years.

Beneath the cloak, Halyn wears a jack of hard, dark brown leather. The garment is sturdy, and somewhat inflexible, fastening with a series of small steel buckles beneath the left armpit. Though nearly useless against sharp piercing weapons or projectiles, it provides a fair amount of protection against some slashing weapons. It was acquired during the young man's time as a mercenary, and has a worn outline of a moth stitched in white thread near the center of the chest. Beneath the jack, Halyn wears a simple shirt of white silk with a row of silver buttons running up its center. The article is long-sleeved and loose fitting. The sleeves are tucked into a pair of leather gloves that Halyn wears on either hand. The gloves are rather long, running nearly to Halyn's elbows. They are sturdily constructed, and seem to have been used thoroughly.

At his waist, Halyn wears a simple belt of black leather with an unassuming silver buckles. His trousers are also simple, bearing no obvious signs of affluent craftsmanship. They are made of soft cotton dyed black, and are comfortable enough to facilitate a long journey on horseback. Halyn's boots seem to have been expensive at one point, though their leather has been broken in and worn down quite a bit. The black footwear extends to his mid-shin and bears a slight heel with pointed toes. By and large, Halyn's apparel seems far more suited to his identity as a soldier-for-hire than it ever would for his existence as a rich merchant's son. To those who might have known him before, this, combined with his more hardened appearance would make him seem almost like a new man.

Weapons/Belongings: Halyn's primary weapon is a greatsword that was forged for him by a friend during his time in the White Moth Mercenary Company. The sword is quite large, reaching nearly five feet in length and weighing about six pounds. The weapon bears a long, elegant blade forged from high-quality steel. The blade is honed to near razor-sharpness on both sides and tapers gracefully from its hilt into a fine point. The blade is nearly two inches across at its widest point, with a fuller running down the center for the majority of the weapon. The sword bears a semi-circle shaped guard made of solid silver, with an engraving of a two-headed elk carefully carved into its surface on either side at Halyn's request. Past the guard, a portion of the blade is wrapped in leather dyed dark blue. This allows the use of half-swording techniques, making the otherwise large and unwieldy weapon a useful tool even in close quarters. The grip is made of sturdy oak, wrapped in the same blue leather as the ricasso and decorated with a winding strand of silver wire. The greatsword's pommel is a circular piece made of silver, inlaid in pearl with the image of a white moth. While traveling, Halyn typically keeps the sword slung over his back in a rugged sheath made of several layers of hardened leather. While the weapon itself is a borderline work of art, the sheath is purely focused around functionality, with little in the way of adornment.

Besides his greatsword, Halyn carries a hunting knife just under a foot in length at his side. The hilt is carved from some kind of horn or antler, with a steel cap at it's end serving as a pommel. It's guard is a simple rectangular block of steel, reaching just far enough to protect the user from sliding their hand onto the blade. The blade itself is single-edged and made of steel, curving into it's point. The knife is obviously more useful for utility, but it can also serve as a simple, yet effective weapon in it's own right.

Personality: Halyn's life experiences have each helped in their own way to shape his personality into the man he is today. He comes across as rather confident, though not outright boastful. He is more than capable of polite conversation, and has trained himself to remain somewhat tactful, though he is unwavering on issues he holds dear. He is not quick to escalate a situation over trivialities, but is more than prepared to fight for what he believes in. During his time with the White Moth Company, he learned a great deal about 'picking his battles' both in a literal and figurative sense. In general, Halyn is fairly personable, though there is a rage buried deep within him that he hides as well as he can. Ultimately, he seeks to do what he thinks is right, and is willing to do whatever is necessary to reach his goal. This drive is hampered by his own code of honor, and he sometimes has difficulty with the turmoil between the man he wants to be and the goal he wishes to achieve.

History: Halyn comes from a long line of timber merchants native to Geltreis. An old and noble family, they trace their lineage back to the city-state's foundation. For hundreds of years, they held a spot among Geltreis' elite, gaining a considerable amount of prestige and wealth in the process through a thriving timber company. Through shrewd business tactics and a wealth of connections outside of the country, the family was able to maintain their place in the worlds of both politics and business without much difficulty. When the city-state's elite began to discuss the proposition of joining the Arcarti Empire, however, the LaKruz family protested.

Halyn's grandfather, then the head of the family business, spoke out against the prospect, insisting that the city-state's independence was at the core of its success. His arguments fell upon deaf ears, however, and the public reputation of the family began to falter as the country assimilated into Arcartus. Standing upon the same principles, and disgusted at the new order of the country, Halyn's father spoke out against Arcartus, even going so far as to encourage armed revolution from the Empire. This act of rebellion decimated the public reputation of the family, and they became outright ostracized by the community. Overcome by frustration, Halyn's father eventually took his own life. The then-teenaged merchant's son left the country shortly thereafter, heading west in search of something he felt his father had lacked.

Eventually, Halyn joined the White Moth Mercenary Company, a somewhat well-known, though small, band of soldiers-for-hire. He spent several years with the company, traveling around the world and learning a fair amount about the arts of war and diplomacy. He ascended the ranks within the group, becoming well known by his brothers in arms for having a tongue as sharp as his blade. After many years, he retired from the company, a shocking decision, especially given his age. He returned to Estovet and set forth towards his former home, hoping that somehow the things he had learned would help him achieve what his father and grandfather could not: the return of an independent Geltreis.

Name: Felix Nikephoros
Age: 20
Gender: Male

Appearance: Felix is a rather small man, in more ways than one. Standing at 5'7, and with thin shoulders and body, he is often confused for someone much younger, despite his (failed) attempts at growing facial hair. Despite his youth, Felix's olive skin has already begun to show signs of wear. Small scars and blemishes dot his face, and his hands are rough and calloused from years of heavy use. His dark hair is tattered and uneven, drooping in the dry season and puffing in the winter. Reaching down to just above his shoulders, his hair has clearly been cut by his own hand, given the odd and erratic cuts made. The bridge of his nose is crooked, having been broken, healed, and re-broken several times, usually the result of sale gone awry, or animals that weren't too keen to give up their coats or castors. Despite all this, his mouth seems to be affixed in permanent, silent smile, and his dark eyes are always wide and enthusiastic.

Clothing/Armor: Felix's dress fluctuates often depending on the season and location. In the winter, he often wears heavy fur coats and hats of his own design, particularly when meeting with buyers. He can't pretend that the furs are the "finest" ever, but they're some of the best available locally, given how niche the market in Geltreis is. The coats are long and flowing, reaching down as far as the leg. They are often colored brown, though white or even spotted fur is available depending on the bear skins that the markets bring in. Conversely, the hats are usually made of fox, which are plentiful enough in the wilderness that Felix can be more selective about the color. Covering the head and ears, the hats are usually a pure white or a warm orange.

In the Summer, Felix's clothes are much more conservative, often nothing more complicated than a wool or cotton shirt, with woolen pants and leather shoes. His belt is small and unimpressive, enough to carry his coin-purse, and little else. His shoes are sturdy, made from leather, and repaired regularly at the cobbler's place of business.

Weapons/Belongings: Felix is a furrier, not a soldier. He has little use for weapons beyond what he needs for hunting. He owns a hunting bow, and several arrows that have been re-fletched often enough that they've prompted philosophical questions about the nature of being (Are these the same arrows as when I first had them?). He's proficient enough to hit a small target at a reasonable distance, so long as it isn't moving. When hunting, he also carries a small carving knife for skinning fur. It's moderately sharp, enough to flay skin, but it hasn't seen much use beyond that.

Personality: Felix is a quiet person with a deep love for all things human. His idealistic view of the world comes off as naive to most people, and it certainly has gotten him into more than a bit of trouble, but Felix wouldn't have it any other way. He's always upbeat and cheerful, in an almost happy-go-lucky way. He genuinely loves the way that people's eyes light up when they like his coats or hats, and he's always willing to give away whatever scraps of fur or wool happen to be left over from his work. He is a simple man who is content with simple things: a warm hearth, a nice drink, and a few cheery songs to keep up the spirits. However, his tendencies to try and placate everyone has made him hopelessly indecisive, even in some of the most mundane things, and even more so in the scheme of big things like politics.

History: Felix's family is not native to Geltreis, or even the Arcartian Empire. Rather, they originally come from the south, as exemplified by their darker skin tone. Though nobody in the Nikephoros family had ever been of noble blood, Felix's mother had often told him of ackermen and other craftsmen who had served kings (though Felix had never believed it). His mother and father had moved north, entranced by the promise of the non-dynastic rule: the House of Affairs seemed like a preferable alternative to a monarch who could only scream "divine right!" until people just did what he wanted. Of course, Arcartus hadn't been perfect, but Geltreis was located on a trade route to the west. If they were going to settle anywhere, it would be here.

Felix's father had already set up a relatively lucrative furrier's shop when Felix was born. The demand for fur goods in Geltreis is almost non-existent: wool and leather were cheaper alternatives, and were easier to maintain than fur was. However, the low demand meant that nobody had been willing to fully dedicate themselves to the fur-goods trade until Felix's father. That meant that those people who did want that fancy fur coat could be forced to pay a premium for it, and that usually meant nobles with a lot of money.

As Felix started to get older, his father had schooled him in the trade: hunting foxes, finding bear pelts at market, and most importantly, making sure that somebody bought the clothes. Though managing a store required a great deal of patience, it was never something Felix seemed to mind. His father had passed only when he was 17, at the comfortable age of 53. His mother had passed only a few years before. His new independence was difficult to handle at first, but he became comfortable with it in time. He grew to enjoy his profession, and he always loved seeing and meeting new people. He had even begun to make a name for himself in the local clothiers' guild, and many now consider him a shoe-in for the next guild president, in spite of his youth. But the growing unease in the city of Geltreis and it's relationship to the Empire has reared its ugly head again, and as a result, so has Felix's indecision. He certainly benefited from the Noble Tolberts' patronage, but the citizenry certainly had plenty of grievances that deserved to be addressed. A single wrong move could make or break him, and all he hopes is that, when the dust clears, everything can go back to normal.

Name: Dalia Harker
Age: 35
Gender: Female

Appearance:
Dalia has long and wavy chocolate-colored hair pulled into an updo. Strands of it hang in ringlets at the sides of her face, and her hair comes neatly into a neat yet loose bun at the back of her head. Unlike her brother, Dalia has fairer, more flushed skin, an unstained white like perfectly carved marble, smooth like the skin of her nephew—a glance at Dalia reveals the existence of some of his softer traits that are present in the Harker lineage. Her eyes are a honey brown, yet they defy the substance's viscosity. Her eyes are quickly moving and studious behind her wire-framed round glasses. Her nose is flat and long, her lips are pursed and full, and her cheekbones are low and round, making her facial features human in almost every way, soft, round, fragile. She is a fuller, shorter woman than her sister-in-law, with womanly and thick curves augmented with a different sort of grace and elegance, such that derives from burning passion and energy and precision, such that although she is of the more portly sort, Dalia is clearly a moving arm of the universe, more capable and powerful than the average woman, yet just as intelligent.

Clothing/Armor:
Over her form, Dalia typically wears a tucked-in white blouse with short sleeves that puff at her shoulders. Her dark green skirt falls just past her knees, and her shoes are comfortable, low, tanned brown leather clogs that offer the right amount of fashion and comfort in exchange for only a little less mobility—not that they don't keep her from jumping around.

Weapons/Belongings:
On her person, Dalia bears no weaponry but the pen... and a small dagger hidden in her small satchel. On her fingers there are no rings, but around her neck is a silver locket with the Harker family coat of arms engraved into its face and a picture of her family on the left with a small portrait of her nephew on the right, showcasing how much she values her family. Also in her satchel, Ms. Dalia Harker carries a pen, an inkwell, a handkerchief, a small journal, and whatever book happens to be with her at the time.

Personality:
Dalia is not the sort to be tamed. It is likely from her where her nephew learned his tenacity, independence, and stubbornness, traits that are at some times undoubtedly good tools for leaders to have and at other times dooming traits that lead to man's end. Her demeanor is adventurous; she is bursting at the seams with life and energy, the same passion she channels into her work at her bookstore and into her poetry and writing in her journal. An intellectual of sorts, it is from Dalia where her nephew received much of the books that filled his childhood. She firmly believes the written word to hold a power only tapped into by a scarce few men and women capable of using it to spread their thoughts and feelings, and she sees each book as a new adventure or a new fountain of knowledge. From her books she has learned much. As a woman, Dalia feels close to her independence and has yet to tie herself to any person, male or female, outside her existing family and relatives. Sometimes she finds it hard to bite her tongue, most especially when she has a clever or hot-tempered, acerbic remark cooking in her mind. She lacks the patience to deal with people who intend to persuade her to slow down into her old age, and she prefers to embark on whatever journey will bring her happiness. It is this that can lead her into trouble, and as such, she doesn't tend to stay in the same land for more than a year or two.

History:
Dalia was raised under the Harker household. She had two siblings, Evanna, a married woman who stays out of contact with the family at large, and James, her beloved brother-turned-fisherman who married an elven woman and became the father of Dalia's favorite nephew, Gareth. Together, Dalia and her siblings were raised in Mullen, Keilaudrin in a period of unabashed tumult that stirred them into chaos, such chaos that led her to seek adventure and James and Evanna to seek peace and safety. Not much can be said of their parents, a poet mother and a teacher father, whom were held dear by their surviving children only after their passing. And so, when the Harker children were grown, James moved to the countryside of Keilaudrin, Evanna married several times over and slowly fell out of contact with the family, and Dalia began her life of nomadic librarianship. For her, her situation hasn't changed since those days. She makes a decent income off the sale and purchase of books, a large collection that contained much history and information of many foreign lands. Recently Dalia has settled in Geltreis for the time being and has just returned to correspondence with her nephew.