The Princess stands at about 166 centimeters in height, not the tallest human being in the world but not the smallest either. Her skin is white though slightly tanned by the harsh rays of the sun above. Her hair is a light hue of red long and wavy in its proportions naturally bleached from exposure to the sun and the salt water air of the coasts of Dasma. Her eyes are a sharp hue of a piercing green the color of fresh spears of grass. Her form is svelte in proportion with tight muscles beneath the skin formed through years of learning the more noble martial forms of archery and fencing. Though the most striking piece one might notice are the strange glyph like tattoos running down her body. Crafted with arcane energy marking her as born of the royal family of Storia. The markings are an age old tradition first used during the ancient times before the Ur'akrath Empire where spiritual tribal leaders would mark their bodies to serve as a representative of the contract between them and the powers that be.

This hardened soldier stands defiantly at 187 centimeters, barely taller than the average size for elves, despite being a human. Gerald skin has a noticeable tan developing from the strident beams emanating from above. His hair is a simplistic color of brown, but is slicked back in a stylish manner to display his chiseled features. His visage is shaped like a perfect rendition of a impenetrable statue, with some light stumble encompassing his mouth and a light scar along the side of his right jawline. the Of all the things, his common eyes are short of being dull and are much more prominent than his other features due to the penetration within his commanding eyes. The merc has been blessed with substantial amounts of training, therefore sports an athletic build with well grown muscles.

The Elladein Empire displays some of the most excellent soldiers out there, and Gerald is a part of that pinnacle of being one of the elite thanks to his maneuvers. Gerald was put through hellish training environments, much like his peers. Put to extreme conditions, Gerald learned swordplay at a tremendously unforgiving rate, along with other tactical skills that would prove useful to the endeavors of the Empire. However, wielding the blade was what he excelled in, and proved to be a very complex opponent to deal with. They learned to not only exhibit their skills to the fullest, but fight dirty when they needed to. Nobles had a specific advantage of delving into relevant skills which separated those who were wealthy from the meager peasants. These skills were mainly combative, but not limited to this, such as stratagems in war and politics, academic pursuits that made him and the other nobles well learned, and his choice of acrobatics to make him difficult to fight without armor equipped.

Gerald was born like every other child in the world... except there was more kicking and screaming by the newborn. Birthed by his mother, Lady Isiva, easily toughened out through the pregnancy since she needed to keep the appearance of an unbroken soldier. Of course, nobles were not exempted from the eventual fate that they would join the military. The aristocratic parents did not spare him of this reality, and made sure he would be an exemplar of the Elladein Empire. Their zealous loyalty prompted them to harshly raise their child, making sure he was prepared at the coming of age when he would be inducted into the swarm of battle born soldiers. In a way, they wanted to be seen as the greatest household and surpass all the others with the intent of betrayal looming within the Lord and Ladies mind.

As he Gerald grew, he was the first child out of the next one sister, and two brothers born. Of course, he was always ahead of the other children with his age and how intense his preparations became by each of their tutors. The heir to the Dachayn household would be him since they followed a unique way of bestowing the fortune onto their children. The superior of the batch would receive everything while the others would be forced to clamber their way up to the top. However, each of the children were unique in their own "good" way. They reflected one of the virtues and vices of the Elladein Empire, sometimes having their own personality outside of this. However, this also displayed violent rivalries and excessive amounts of trying to undermine each other. Of course, there was only one death which the family of warriors soldier over. Stalwart and determined, their lives, their lessons practically becoming the embodiment of war.

When in their teens, the remaining children were put into a duel between other royals in an attempt to flesh out their children to understanding an opponents mindset. Of course, the opposing nobles were also well versed as them. Over time, they had their children spar, with the Dachayn family as the prominent victor. Of course, jealousy arose among the children as the fights became rougher, and presumably more dangerous. One of the children was put out of commission due to dirty fighting tactics which crippled the youngest child. Shocked at their loss, they angrily scolded the child as Gerald and his sister continued each of their studies not only in warfare, but political endeavors. Of course, they never saw their brother again, which lead to questioning for where he was. They never found out the answer, but life continued on as both siblings continued traversing no where, but up.

Eventually, they were inducted into the military, with Gerald finding everything to be much more than a bore at this point. The military and its training regime were no match for those already prepared for the inevitable which made Gerald disgruntled. These feelings of boredom festered over time as each day felt like a repeat of itself. History was seen over and over with little to no changes and the unsatisfied soldier found himself yearning for a difference in his life. The aristocrat was finally thinking freely for himself instead of buying into the hive mind of the strenuous military. His lust for freedom was breaking through and finally one day, the horizon came. Gerald could not take any more of this dull, repetitious, lackluster lifestyle. And with that, the noble was a soldier no more.

Soon the son disappeared, which was duly noted the zealous members as rumors spread throughout the barracks and other noble households. It was spoke of that he murdered a soldier out of madness, while another said someone finally fell him with a simple poison concoction. Of course, Gerald knew the true reason for his desertion of the military - it was boring as ever-living hell! Silver linings would not assist him here as for six years he began traversing around each kingdom, taking up job after job, uncaring about how he would be seen or respected upon his return... if he decided to return. Each year was filled with fascinating misadventures that earned him coin, bedding as many women as he could, and generally living the life a free flowing, reckless mercenary who did not ever consider the consequences of his actions. Nothing would chain this man down from what he truly desired and coveted.

Carving out his life out as an adventurer, he was eventually taken to the capital of Storian due to gossip about someone willing to pay a nice amount of coin for the troubles they were going to put the person through. Drawn by the allure of a much heavier coin purse, Gerald undertook the elongated task of traversing to the capital which took a couple of weeks to get there on horseback. At most, he only prayed that no one bother to take on the challenge as he walked into the capital with some horse meat that he may roast and devour over flickering flames, which would inevitably turn into a pillar of fire.

Between loyalty and his own freedom to roam the realm, Gerald is a very different person from his much more younger years. He is a man who desires a free flowing, unending hazardous experiences which makes way to irresponsibility. Gerald is not the type of man that wants to be chained down and is very stubborn when it comes to his own mindset. While being intelligent in a sense, he does understand what he is doing, but does not feel the need to reprimand himself for such "undesirable" deeds. He also enjoys wooing and exploiting women for more... versatile matters as he proclaims. Other than his perverted ways, he does follow a strict code of conduct which allows him to avert distractions at a moments notice. Determined, he also actively seeks out trouble as a way to create liveliness. Along with his sense of adventure, he is also prone to speaking his mind on the matter, making him brutally honest and not one to waltz around the point.

Gerald is a man who opposes one meager idea that can change his life forever - the prospect of being chained down. He knows what it is like to be chained down to the same, indiscriminate events for two years. In drove him (figuratively) insane from the sheer repetition which angered him to no end. That same boring regiment, familiar drink, he does not want to repeat his life. Even so, he also fears that one day his own tasks, adventures, missions will grow ultimately stale. He went on an journey to cure his boredom, not to have it return.

In reality, his goal in life is simplistic to a pint - Gerald wants to experience new walks of life, new ideas, fresh faces, and an infinite journey which will display myriads of changes. This is something he looks forward to each day, something he breathes. He feels the need to find something different, seeing himself as a wanderer with no home. This is the destiny he strives to keep and covet for himself.

Vivi stands evenly but not intimidatingly so with the average human man, a few inches taller than the standard deviation for Elladien women. As is her height, so is her posture; she holds herself steadily but in no way menacingly or noticeably attractive to the eye. As is her posture, so is her figure; rigorous and regular training have toned her body very finely, but not so robustly, as to almost deceive the casual onlooker of her physical capability. Her sinewy figure is covered in tough, sun-worn skin, calloused around her hands and feet.

Vivi’s face is thin, long and sharp, with a delicate but definitive jawline leading to a usually pursed mouth below a petite, straight-edged nose. As is popular in her remote, rural region of Elladien, her face is dotted with two almond-shaped, deep cerulean eyes. Topping the face is a typically collected and shined black crop of hair brought back into a high ponytail which, when collected by the wooden knot that binds it together, hangs no lower than the nape of her neck. She is by no means a striking or enamoringly attractive woman at first glance, but has a very quiet beauty about her.

Vivi is dressed in one fashion and it is that of the typical wandering Rak’sha Monk: sparring, well-traveled robes colored in eggshell and turqoise, and one piece of armor. The robes wrap around her chest and shoulders, leaving uncovered her midsection and arms. A single wrap of cloth drapes around her robed pants, which fit loosely and stop a few inches before the ankle. Past those ankles are leather sandals which bear a very precise imprint of her feet.

Covering her left arm is a brassard of metal plating, starting at a glove made of the same metal and ending in a pauldron of the very same metal. The metal is a matte gray alloy forged by the monks of Rak’sha, comparably durable to average steel but much lighter. The ensemble is covered in a turquoise cloth, but is not hidden as the imprint of the plating is noticeably visible. Her right arm, alternatively, is completely barren of cloth or armor, save for a thin, fingerless leather glove.

At the left side hangs a plain leather scabbard which houses her sword; a double-edged sword three feet in length from the beginning of the pommel to the tip. One fourth of the way from the tip, as well as from the pommel, the sword is broader and brought to a tip, allowing parries to glance the sword in the direction of the groove instead of the sword. The sword is made from the same metal as her armor, not spectacularly durable but surprisingly light.

Opposite the scabbard is a half-gallon leather wineskin, usually filled to the brim with water.

Around her neck is a thin sterling necklace with two ornaments: the tangled-knot crest of the Rak’sha and a turquoise amulet.

Vivi was trained since childhood, specifically age 10, in defensive martial arts as well as swordplay. While not as naturally gifted for the former as she is the latter, through determination and her discipline under the Rak’sha monks she has become proficient enough in both to defend herself against multiple opponents of equal skill. Offensively she rarely has to use either and thus is not as effective in spurring on an attack with her fists, feet or swords.

Filling that void is her exceptionally studied versatility in Aquamancy; the elemental manipulation of water. Her magic is limited solely to water and primarily water-based substances within her line of sight. Though she is searching for answers to why this is, she cannot control all manner of liquids or substances with water in them but not almost entirely composed of water. Her tutelage under monks who specialized in Aquamancy gifts her the ability to control water against gravity or its own weight, increase or decrease fluid pressure of water under her control, and use it for offense-based purposes.

Theoretically there is no limit to the amount of water she can have under her control at any one moment, but it is restricted by certain rules. She can control any water within a radius of five feet of her standing location or any water in her eyesight. However, water not within that radius can only be manipulated through eyesight, and water outside of the radius and outside of eyesight cannot be drawn upon. Vivi has yet to learn how to shift water between phases and cannot control ice, but has some proficiency over dense water vapor, although not nearly the caliber she has over liquid water.

Her most common techniques are surrounding herself with thin, orbiting rings of water to detach globules to slow or stop oncoming projectiles, or to launch high pressure globules of water as “bullets”, which have little to no penetrating power but when impacting flesh and bone can deeply bruise muscle, rupture blood vessels and crack bone. Water within her radial sphere of control is channeled through her subconscious and thus does not require constant attention or focus. However, water controlled by eyesight requires her dedicated focus, often slowing her down or stopping her completely, depending on the distance and volume of the body of water.

All arcane energy used in her channeling is brought to a focal point through the turquoise amulet she wears around her neck, bottlenecking the raw, surging magic and allowing her to draw upon it at will and subconsciously.

Vivi has semi-eidetic memory, with almost perfect recall for spoken or read information. She is, however, lacking in spatial memory and can be quite forgetful of objects or surroundings.

Vivi was born in a small satellite farming village of the Rak’sha monastery, a secluded Elladien sect who follows a branch of old Austry religion. Her journey through life held two paths before her: the life of a wandering Rak’shan monk or a potato and tuber farmer. The former could only be guaranteed to her if she showed promise and potential in the Rak’shan Call, which she did and was made apparent to the monastery at the customary age of ten.

The monks, the sect and the religion as a whole is dedicated to one purpose: collecting, preserving and protecting information in the world of Austry. Vivi’s gifted ability of information recall was an uncommon but not unheard of genetic trait present in the few satellite villages surrounding the temple. Thus, she was thrust into the life of a Rah’sha monk, training diligently under her mentors which bestowed upon her the gifts she uses to travel Austry in search of news, information and knowledge to bring back to the monastery and transcribe into their vast library of tomes.

Monks of Rak’sha, when travelling, are held to oaths and laws most commoners are not. They are not to acquire any permanent items of leisure or purpose, or profit any monetary gain from their talents or training, lest it distract them from their one purpose. Instead, monks belonging to Vivi’s sect barter information or their talents for food, shelter, or other necessities during their journey. Additionally, they are sworn to oaths of virtue, including pacificity when not required otherwise, absolute truthfulness, celibacy and abstinence from self-indulgence. Monks return to the monastery cyclically, expecting to return five years to the day of their departure.

Vivi has been travelling for four years now, making her way from the northern borders of the Elledian empire to Dasma, to witness the coming-of-age of crown princess Ariannona Escaphant Mylene Rosberg, both to record the events of festivity and accumulate any knowledge available in the city with the massive influx of travelers there for the same reason.

Vivi is for the most part an aloof, quiet girl, usually observing the world from behind a facial barrier of indifference and thoughtlessness. However, this is a learned mask she wears when in public. Before her training at the hands of Rak’shan monks, she was a very outwardly curious and social child. This facet of her personality peeks out from behind her mask when her guard is dropped around companions. As a monk, however, this is a rare if nonexistent occasion.

When coaxing information from people, she can apply a degree of charm and moxy to make her mark feel comfortable. However, if overdone, it can appear artificial to those trained in judging tonal inflections and facial language. Vivi prefers to trade information for information to avoid this risk.

She is incredibly dedicated to the cause she believes is entwined with her fate, and any path or action she follows is normally in pursuit of collecting and recording data from the world around her.

Thessa stands at 6 foot 2 and has a fit physique. Her hair is bright blonde, and reaches down just past her shoulders. Her eyes are a light hazel, matching to a degree with her hair colour. Her skin is rather pale, and her cheeks are adorned with freckles that cross her nose.

-Master of ice based magic
-Knows various other magics, albeit a lot less than she knows ice based magics
-Capable with a dagger, although she would have to be very lucky to even survive against anyone with proper training
-Knows how to make a fire
-Can cook meat
-Agile

To know of, Thessa's history, you must first know of the history that preceded her. Her peoples have lived in the far north for centuries. Living through the harsh Arctic wastes as if it were nothing but a minor inconvenience. The people had one tradition that remained since it was formed. The tradition was to train a child to be a mage every few hundred years or so, to ensure that there was always someone to heal any wounds or to use as a trump card against rival tribes if need be.

This is where, Thessa comes in. Obviously technology and education had come a long way since the tribes formation, and rather than being taught by the previous mage entirely, Thessa was instead only tutored by the mage for the first 10 or so years of her life before she was sent to study at a magic college far south. The tribe specifically demanded she be taught ice magic primarily, but of course, it was only Thessa's luck to be placed with the most eccentric tutor in the entire school.

He was a wise, yet silly old man who held making his lessons fun in a higher regard to being strict. While he did give, Thessa a good education in ice magic, he also liked to teach her various other magics like purifying water or even how to speak to a fish inbetween lessons.

She stopped her formal training at the college at the age of 25, but continued to learn and study at the college until she was well into her 50s. She made a by living brewing and selling various potions along with helping to tutor younger students at the college. Unfortunately duty called to her near her 100th birthday. She was to return to her tribe to give the old - now deceased mage a proper funeral along with taking over the position of the mage.

While she did as she was told, she felt a yearning for something more. Funnily enough, the life of a mage secluded to a hut in the ice fields didn't appeal to her as much as the bustling cities and towering acropolis' did.

Nevertheless, she continued to do her duty. That is, until a rival tribe began moving in on their territory. Try as they might, even with, Thessa's magic skills they were severely outmatched in terms of combat skill and volume of combatants. Thessa's tribe was destroyed, and she narrowly escaped to the south. This was around the time she was 245, and she had very little idea of what to do with her life after this crucial event.

She decided on exploring the world, something she always wished she could do. This is how she ended up in Dasma.

Thessa has the philosophy of always looking on the bright side of life. She is optimistic about just about everything and tries to at least fake being enthusiastic in most situations. That being said, she is rather cautious and she may be a bit less than enthusiastic if a plan will result in her death. She takes a rather sisterly approach to most people, and will happily teach her knowledge to anyone who asks her to.

Dogface appears to most as a normal badger… Until you brush his fur the wrong way, in which case you will notice he has many painful spines on his back like a porcupine. There’s also the fact that he can double up on himself or elongate much more than your average badger. At his full length, he appears to be a few inches longer in body than your average badger.

Dogface is very quick in body and wit, a master of lies and deception, trapmaking, explosives, poisons, (Mostly of the hallucinogenic/paralyzing sort) potions, hiding, and climbing. He has a liver of steel, is an expert at pickpocketting, playing poker both fair and dirty, and can teleport short distances, if he’s feeling particularly magical. He can usually summon up some small means of bomb/potionmaking ingredients on the fly if he desperately needs them. Bigger contraptions require more things, of course, and Dogface needs to spend long periods concentrating in order to conjure any amount bigger than a pawfull. If he doesn’t accidentally burn/blow something up in the process… He’s skilled in drunken-style martial arts, and, contrary to real life, the more alcohol he has in his system, the better he gets… But he’d never be able take more than one man and a toddler child on his own. He’s much better suited to forcing his enemies to make mistakes, peppering the battlefield with nuisances and hazards, and letting his enemies destroy themselves. If they happen to be big and scary, he’d rather smell them ahead of time with his keen badger nose and find another way around.

Trickster animals come in many forms, and are mysterious and infuriating creatures. There is one thing that the utmost experts on the matter can confirm about them for sure, though. The vast majority of them are not born, rather they are manifestations of magical energies, namely when an animal gets ahold of (and usually eats) something covered in the magical residue left behind by forest spirits, druids, gnomes, wise hermits, and other people that go to the woods to fool around with the rules of the universe. The result is the most infuriating and cheeky of all of nature’s inventions, the Forest Trickster, talking animals that lead people to their doom. Or just screws around with said man until they leave and/or try to kill them. Occasionally, Forest Tricksters hitch rides on horses and vehicles and go to live in the cities and towns. Dogface is one such badger. He’s been hanging out in various taverns, making lewd comments and practical jokes ever since his arrival.

Dogface is an uncouth, egotistical, hedonistic lech who exudes all the absurdity of the mixed spells that created him. He fancies himself some combination of Sun Tzu and Harald Hardrada, and he’d have you know that he once fought an entire canoe full of alligators and won, or something to similar effect. Like the time when he grabbed a mountain lion by the tail and tied it to a tree. He is motivated by money, compliments, and booze, and nothing will stand in his way between himself and those things… If it does, then he’d rather just walk around it and make that obstacle feel like a real moron.

If there’s something more to life than having your back (and ego) massaged by a beautiful handmaiden, singing drunkenly in the taverns, and laughing at the guy covered in the flour he left on the doorsill, Dogface doesn’t seem quite interested in finding it. While he’d like to keep up the appearance that he isn’t afraid of anything, he is afraid of quite a few things, actually. Like huge men with axes, groups of aggressive people, fast, deep rivers, and other things that could cause death in all sapient badgers named Dogface. Secretly, he wishes he were big enough to play sports with humans... Come to think of it, there's a lot of human things he wishes he could do...

Cuffe stands at about 157 centimeters with a lanky build. His hard face contrasts greatly with the belly that’s forming as his metabolism is slowing down. His stone face contributes to a very intimidating look, despite the lack of significant muscle mass on his body. Cuffe’s privileged occupation has lent him the luxury of spending the most of his time indoors, contributing to paler complexion, though his skin is still a dark color due to his ethnicity. His wardrobe is primarily functional, usually consisting of a dark, traveling cloak, light clothes in both color and weight, and comfortable shoes for walking. He does dress lavishly when in formal situations, wearing many layers and bright colors.

Cyrus Cuffe is a businessman through and through. His head for number makes him effective at his current job as treasurer. He also is a skilled manipulator, although he never lies, he can make you think that he’s your ally at one moment or worst nightmare at the next, reading your psych carefully. For his trip to Storia, he did not want to have the weapons he was transporting in plain sight, for fear of raiders, so he has received training to be able to conceal them. His current outfit has around 17 secret pockets. Cyrus can move somewhat quietly, but he hasn’t developed this skill.

Cyrus Cuffe is the son of a wealthy arms producer. From a young age his knack for numbers was cultivated by his tutors as one of the traits that makes a successful businessman. He took the position of a scribe/secretary for his father, but found that his relationship with his father decision making difficult and left. This hurt his father very much, and they haven’t spoken a word until recently. After cutting ties with his father, it didn’t take Cuffe too long to take the position as treasurer for the local baron.

Recently, his father has contacted Cuffe and made a deal that has led to him leaving his position as treasurer and traveling to Storia to sell weapons.

If Cuffe was to be compared to a figure from our culture, he would probably be identified as a Scrooge. His decisions are always well calculated and thought out, and never made based on his heart, which is as cold as stone. As such, Cuffe has never lived to hard, but isn’t in any close relationship either. He wouldn’t be near as successful if he had.