Timezone
UTC-08:00

Availability
Generally free barring errands/family. May be busy some Sundays, Mondays, and Thursdays.

Favorite TV Show
Archer

Name
Vivian Crowther

Age
22

Hometown
Floaroma Town

Race
Human

Class
Bard

Weapon
Daggers

Personality
Impulsive, Naive, Friendly, Energetic, Honest.

Personal Artifacts
Spiral Hairpin
A hairpin with a metal clip and a small stone carving mounted to it. The carving is made of carefully selected and shaped black and white rock, forming a spiral pattern akin to a Poliwag's. Because of the care that went into it's creation, it is somewhat valuable despite it's common materials. It was comissioned for her by her family as a present on her twenty-first birthday, the year after she had befriended Poliwag. Vivian considers this one of her most treasured possessions. Due to it's light weight and nature as a hair pin, it could have easily been lost throughout the day. It was last seen several days after her recruitment and departure from Floaroma Town, when she put it on before breaking camp in the morning. When they later set camp again for the night after the days events and travel, it had gone missing.

Patchwork Pair of Fluffy Socks
Vivian's favorite pair of particularly fluffy wool socks, which have been patched up countless times. Too sentimental to get rid of her favorite socks, Vivian instead continued to patch them over the years. As a result, they have so many patches it's impossible to tell what parts are the original sock. It's possible none of it remains at this point. Because they wore out unevenly, the socks don't match any longer. She only wears these when it is particularly cold, otherwise keeping them safely tucked away in her pack. They were most likely taken by a thieving animal or pokemon in the night as nest materials, and have yet to be noticed as missing.

Fears
Death or harm coming to her family and friends, demons, spiders, and demon spiders.

Dreams
Becoming a famous and beloved bard, traveling far and wide.

History
Born and raised in Floaroma Town in Olivine Kingdom, Vivian was the third and youngest child in her family. Her parents were themselves Bards, a longstanding family profession. Thus she grew up among music and minor arts of magic, along with her older sisters. Her instrument of choice would be the tambourine, and she became quite skilled with it. When she was deemed old enough she was trained in the subtle ways of magic that bards make use of, taught to dance, and even learned how to make use of knives.

Naturally growing up she heard many tales, and learned to be quite the story teller herself. Of these stories she found her favorites to be ones of travel, discovery, and adventure. She had those she liked less as well, often dealing with demons and other such horrors. These her older sisters would occasionally tease her with, even to the present day. Otherwise, her upbringing was a fairly safe one that involved doing as she wished when she wasn't practicing or performing. That is, barring the odd accident during practice every now and then. One such accident resulted in the scar across her lip, as a result of a foolish attempt at catching a knife with her teeth.

During her twentieth year, she began to notice a Poliwag watching her perform. Any time she tried to approach it, however, it would quickly hop away and seemingly disappear. After some time of this it eventually let her approach, and Vivian discerned that the Poliwag was interested in the bardic performances. She offered to let it join her, and they became fast friends as it performed alongside her using it's ability to create water and hop. It was while practicing an act with knives that they both received their distinguishing scars, and determined that water and knife-juggling didn't belong in the same act.

Two years later, a visiting Warden would see one of Vivian's performances and be impressed with their talent. They revealed they were well aware of her family, and it came out that her parents used to work in a much more dangerous form of the bardic profession in their youth. While the Warden had intended to recruit one of her parents, she objected due to their age. Her older sisters would also be valid recruits, but she objected again due to them already having children of their own. She instead volunteered herself, both to keep her family out of danger and because it served as good a reason as any to begin traveling. Her family had objections in turn, mostly regarding her naive nature, but she ended such arguments by pointing out there were fewer held as more trustworthy and reliable than the Wardens.

Appearance
Standing at the slightly short height of five-foot-four, Vivian is a lithe woman of a hundred and ten pounds. Thanks to her long arms and legs, she appears lanky despite her short height. As a lean woman she isn't particularly voluptuous, but an attractive young woman all the same. Naturally fair skinned, many a day spent performing out in the sun has given her a light tan. She keeps her chestnut brown hair in a fluffy, wild bob cut. Her eyebrows are thick and softly curved, hanging over her round hazel eyes. She has a round face thanks to prominent cheeks, slender jawline, slight chin, and button nose. There is a small vertical scar across her lower lip, the result of a training accident. Her right earlobe is missing a triangular wedge from it, also from a training accident.

Pokemon
Poliwag

Gender
Female

Encountered
Found watching her during one of her performances, eventually befriended her and became a part of her act.

Disposition
Mischievous, Loyal, Helpful.

Assistance
Creates Water, Performs, Distracts, Lures.

Appearance
Two feet tall and barely thirty pounds, a Poliwag is little more than a sphere with feet and a tail. It has two large, round black eyes. Below it's tiny pink mouth is a white circle across it's stomach, with a black spiral pattern. The wide, tear-drop shaped fin of it's tail is white, and the rest of it's body is blue. It's stubby, narrow feet are poor for walking on land, so it mostly hops. During acts, it often has small bells secured to it's tail. Poliwag is missing a small wedge from the side of it's tail fin as a result of the same accident that injured Vivian's ear.

Your Timezone:
EST, Eastern US & Canada

Your Frequency:
I'm on daily, but I usually can post once or twice a week depending on post size.

Your Real Life Obligations:
Full time student 18 credit hours, job too but Im online a lot during it so. >>

Your Favorite tv show or book series:
Uh, dunno. The Drizzt Series? I'll go with that.

Name:
Ayluin "Ayl" (Pronouned, "ile") Retin

Age:
24

Hometown:
Laverre City

Race:
City Elf

Class:
Shapeshifter

Weapon:
Multiple animal forms + a composite short bow

Personality:
+Determined
+Courageous
+Adaptable
-Aggressive
-Inconsistent

Personal Interests: (I find it hard to believe if he never mentioned specific things to people they would think to bring random items to his attention. So, I put an item he could talk about and then interest so they wouldn't have to be premeditated. )
-Circular Pendant: A small piece of clay carved with a spiral pattern attached to a long leather thong. Was last seen before his joining.
-Dalish Animal Carvings: A fan of the fantasies of the Dalish from his youth, he has a small collection of Dalish carvings in the forms of various animals he can transform into. He believes carrying them makes it easier to transform, but that is probably an instance of mind of matter. He actively looks for one of an elf where such merchandise is sold.

Fears:
The Blight overcoming the world, being beaten down into submission, he doesn't fear them per say but he hates storms.

Dreams:
To be strong and help save the world from the Blight

History:
Ayluin was always the weakest of his peers. Living in Laverre City almost all his life, the young elf, although not hated, was not well integrated into human society. His parents were once Dalish, but settled in the city after an unexpected visit, after they found they quite liked the setting. He made friends with both humans and elves, though, he lived in the elven 'ghetto,' so to speak, and most of his companions were of his own race. He was always the smallest, the slowest, the weakest, because he was born just a bit too early, and, as cruel as children can be, he was never let to forget about that fact. He took such criticisms very hard. Even though from his friends they were mostly light-hearted jokes, many humans, being physically bigger, bullied him for it and reminded him constantly that he was small. He developed a bit of a self-esteem problem. He started to lash out and get in physical fights, always ending up the loser, trying to prove he was as strong as everyone else, but ultimately stopped and receded in on himself. He was still known for bouts of anger, but he stopped attacking people. Once he got older, he calmed some, but he by that time developed a bit of a chip on his should from everything. He resented his own shortcomings, and turned his anger inward.

His life has mostly been uneventful, but that is not to say he spent his time idle. He went to school and studied, and did quite well in it. His most memorable instruction, however, was from his mother. She was a mage for her clan before settling down in the city, and so she passed on her magic to her son once they discovered his affinity for magic. It is in this skill that he has managed to come to terms, slightly, with himself. He may be weak, but he could turn into a bear. At times he has trouble turning back into an elf, which can hurt him, but managed to overcome this problem though training.

Ayl likes the outdoors, and although curious of the life his parents left behind enjoys more modern amenities too much to join the Dalish. He does, however, have a restlessness and sense of adventure from the many stories he was told when he was a child. He left home once he was an adult, unsure of what he wanted to do with himself. He wandered and did many an odd job. Eventually, he encountered a group of magical entertainers, the Bombasters, and joined them.

The good thing about the Bombasters was that they are mages, all, in some way. While camped outside of a small yet central town performing light tricks to pay for room and board, the group unknowingly came across a Warden. It was later on at night, after the performers and a few admirers were settling down for the night in their camp outside of town, that a group of bandits tried to overrun their caravans. The group cast them out without difficulty, and when they went into town the next day, were met with applause and a celebration. Apparently, they had managed to drive of a band of highwaymen that had preying on travelers for quite some time. The Warden, hearing of this, came to their next show, and picked Ayluin out of the group. After proving himself, he eagerly left the Bombasters, on good terms, to join The Wardens.

Appearance:

Colored: white hair, green eyes, tanned skin.
Typically, he dresses in very simple clothing, as he finds it makes transitioning easier.

Pokemon:
Ren, a Wynaut

Gender:
Male

Encountered:
While one the road, it is not uncommon for Ayluin to walk in the place of an animal. He finds it intriguing, and has been known to interact with them while in their form. Many people are amazed by this, only to have their assumptions crushed when the elf tells them that the pokemon, at least, usually can tell there's something off about him and that he isn't actually a pokemon. He came across a family of Wynauts and befriended them. They had been migrating to a better area that happened to be in the same direction the elf's caravan was heading. They thought he was intriguing and, although didn't let him into their group, the elf enjoyed following with them and engaing in their friendly social behavior. It came time for him to leave a few weeks later and he departed, but one of the pokemon came back with him. He isn't sure why Ren liked him so much, but even if he hadn't been excited about the idea of having a pokemon, Ren hadn't really given him a choice at the time.

Disposition:
+Enthusiastic
+Friendly
-Timid

Assistance:
Companionship and comic relief, gathers food (while in the wilderness), great at finding lost items

Appearance:

Your Timezone: Central (US/Canada)

Your Frequency:Normally on once a day, typically later than 8.

Your Real Life Obligations: 17 credit hr semester, 2 sports, volunteering, job

Your Favorite tv show or book series: Game of Thrones

Name: Arïs Andryr

Age: 27

Hometown: Denerim

Race: Dalish Elf

Class: Assassin

Weapon(s): 5 poison-tipped throwing knives, matte black, perfectly balanced; 1 combat knife, similar to a throwing knife but slightly heavier and bulkier, also poison tipped. Katana for mid-range, though Arïs isn't as skilled with it.

Personality:
+Dedicated
+Unwavering
+Innovative

-Aloof
-Mistrusting

Personal Artifact: A silver chain necklace, given to Arïs by a friend in the mercenary clan. It was lost during a skirmish with thieves somewhere between Denerim and Olivine.

Fears: Harming the innocent

Dreams:Bringing peace to the world with as few casualties as possible

History: The upbringing of an assassin is not typically one of luxury and comfort. Arïs's was no different. Born into an elite mercenary clan in Denerim, his first years were parallel to that of a slave. As a youth, he was trained rigorously and uncompassionately to be the ultimate killing machine. His first memory was of killing another boy his age in combat. His second, learning to concoct a poison that meant near-immediate death. His third, being beaten for trying to escape. After his discovery that his masters were naught but slave-drivers, Arïs decided to wait, bide his time, and be cautious. From their cruelty he learned the value of kindness, compassion, and justice. He would learn more from them, all he could, then use his knowledge to do justice.

He excelled afterward, easily outperforming all his peers and several of his elders. His training to a full assassin took little time. All the while, his masters challenged him, hardened him, greedily aware of his potential should it become fully realized. And all the while they fanned the fire that would engulf them. By the age of seventeen, Arïs had become exactly what they wanted of him; proficient, stealthy, innovative and, seemingly, apathetic. Inside, however, his hatred still burned fierce. The moment they trusted him, gave him too much leash, Arïs killed them. A kindness. Not to you, but to the world, he thought as blood stained steel and ran red in pools down his masters' throats.

His freedom now secured, Arïs was able to leave at last, as he always dreamed he would. Little came of that but disappointment as well. Arïs had believed his masters to be demons of a sort, the only beings capable of absolute and unprovoked cruelty. His suspicion was crushed by the reality of the world. Arïs traveled far and wide to escape the truth, journeying all the way to Olivine before realizing his self-deception was meaningless. Peace, although plenty, was constantly assaulted by the acts of the few preying on the weaker, the less fortunate. Arïs began taking it upon himself to correct such occurrences.

His vigilante justice did not go without notice. His reputation spread, an assassin working for the common good. Rather than taking jobs to kill over petty squabbles and clan disputes, Arïs accepted only protective work. At the age of twenty, he was called on by the King of Olivine to be head of his security. At this he proved most adept, thwarting attempted coups as well as anyone.

On a particular day, the King granted an audience to a woman wishing to recruit new wardens to defend against the Blights. On this day, a band of thieves raided the kingdom, slaying all who stood in their path. Though outnumbered, Arïs led his guard to victory using his experience, engaging the enemy with guerrilla tactics rather than head-on. The woman took interest in him and his abilities. Nelwa, she was called. She offered him a position as a warden. Given the chance to protect the realm, Arïs accepted without hesitation.

Pokemon: Eithina (a-THEE-na) - Ninetales

Gender: Female

Encountered: Eithina was presented to Arïs at the beginning of his training, as a means to improve his efficiency.

Disposition:
+Intelligent, for a pokemon
+Loyal

-Mistrusting

Assistance: Eithina, bred as an assassin's assistant, is slightly smaller than the garden-variety ninetales, and therefore is quicker and more agile, yet just as vicious. She is used for simple distractions in Arïs's work. Occasionally, she will engage in combat, but as more of a supporter than a head-on fighter. She understands many basic commands as a result of years of working with Arïs. Apart from this, Eithina, as most fire types, is able to produce fire for survival in harsh conditions. On colder nights, the warmth produced from her fur is a much-welcomed comfort.

Your Timezone: PST

Your Frequency: I'm able to get on pretty much every day.

Your Real Life Obligations: None that I can see seriously interfering with RP.

Your Favorite tv show or book series: Orphan Black

Name: Ronan Marsh

Age: 23

Hometown: Korcari Wilds

Race: Human

Class: Warrior

Weapon: Longbow in battle, partial to using his fists or small knives during a skirmish.

Personality:
+ perceptive
- hot-headed
+ altruistic
- ill-mannered
+ resourceful

Personal Artifacts:
Sun Pendant - A solar-shaped bronze pendant with a sphere of amber in the center. Confiscated when Ronan was imprisoned in Denerim, the family heirloom has likely ended up in the pockets of an enterprising merchant or around the neck of some town guard’s wife.
Emerald Lion Ring - A silver ring bearing the fierce visage of a lion’s head, eyes inlaid with finely-cut emeralds. Despite having no explanation as to how he could afford such fine jewelry, Ronan insists the ring is his. Last seen on the finger of Paul Leandres, a noble of Denerim.

Fears: Abandonment, being useless or weak.

Dreams:
Before renouncing his old life and joining the Wardens, he hoped to be able to support himself and his estranged younger sister. Now he settles for dreams of hot food and a warm bed.

History:
Ronan was born and raised in the thickly forested marshes of the Korcari Wilds, counting himself among the Chasind- the hardy people who had settled flecks of dry land in the otherwise inhospitable region. Danger was the way of life, here. Children learned young to travel in groups when they went to play outside the safety of the village walls. Ronan spent his childhood clambering about crumbling ruins, shooting sticks from his toy bow. Out in the bogs, he played dangerous games of hide-and-seek amongst the trees.

When he was nine, the gods finally deemed him fit for a little sister who would survive beyond her first months. But this new addition, young Amelia, brought joy to their otherwise demanding lives. With a new mouth to feed, Ronan began in earnest to follow his father along on hunting trips, eager to help his family (and his village) survive. Long hours of target practice were followed by days-long hunting trips, huddled together with his father and three other hunters around a fire while they waited for the sun to rise.

During the Fourth Blight, his village was burned to the ground. A thirteen-year-old Ronan fled east with his family, including his four-year-old sister, toward the Brecilian Forest. During the night, they were ambushed; Ronan and Amelia joined the hundreds of others made orphans by the Blight. Ronan and his sister starved for nearly a week before being taken in by another group of refugees, who got the siblings to walled village in the forest. From there, they were taken in by the Chantry.

Discomforted by the vastly different way of life, but seeing that his sister was better off under their care, Ronan struck out alone at fifteen. Surviving in an unfamiliar environment ended up entailing a lot more stealing than he had planned, and without shelter he was forced to defend himself against people and animals alike. It wasn’t until a woman took him under her wing that he found legitimate path, and for a while made an honest but boring living running errands for her.

He was in Denerim on business he was found standing, wild-eyed, over the bloody body of Paul Leandres, the youngest son of a notoriously shady noble, as the Denerim guards kicked down the door. Nelwa first saw him being dragged from the Leandres Estate kicking and screaming. He managed to break the noses of two guardsmen before being wrestled, face-down, to the ground. For a moment as he was being dragged away, hands bound behind him, his frenzied, panicked stare met her gaze. Intrigued, she visited the jail and found the feral man in his cell. He was able to convince her that he was innocent of the crime, and she invoked the Right of Conscription to save him from the gallows.

Appearance:
Working on it!
Ronan wears his rough upbringing plainly, a perpetually tired-looking five-foot-eight-inch-tall figure with unkempt black hair and a disagreeable attitude. The smooth brown skin of his face is disrupted by a scar on his cheek, and to a lesser extent, a nick above his left eye. His eyebrows are thick and expressive, often pulled down to enhance his glaring power. Other scars are interspersed throughout, particularly on his hands and forearms, and two that appear to be healed stab wounds in his back.

Pokemon: Taillow; Unnamed, called by whistling.

Gender: Male

Encountered: The Taillow took an interest in Ronan shortly after he left the Chantry. He would sing to the Chasind boy, who at first, found the noise annoying, but when the Taillow swooped down to pull the hair of a girl he’d been scrapping with (giving him just enough time for Ronan to get in the final hit) that he considered the positives of their partnership. Once he opened his heart, the two became a tight pair.

Disposition:
+ observant
- moody
+ loyal

Assistance: Can deliver messages, scout ahead, and provide a brief distraction in battle.

Appearance:

A standard Taillow; forked tail, shiny blue feathers and a white underside, and rays of red between the eyes and on the throat.