[CHAR] Blood, Riches and Glory: Ghosts of Iron Coast

Characters

Frengo's Characters

Gripus Probus

Hero of the East, Bane of Morven

Age: 91

Gender: Male

Race: Human

Race Overview: N/A

Titles: Hero of the East, Bane of Morven.

Appearance: Gripus is a youthful looking man of average height, and with a slender build. Voluminous black robes cloak him from head to toe, but his long and heavy hood is trimmed with gold. A belt burdened with satchels crosses his chest and back diagnonally. 

His hair is short, in typical Imperial fashion, and of a brown colour. His features could be considered handsome, and chiseled, however his eyes glow yellow at all times with arcane energy, so much so that the irises cannot be seen. 

Weapons:

Staff of Morven - A gnarled tree branch, headed with a brightly colored green gem the size of a man's fist. The weapon is five feet in length, and seems unremarkable and somewhat fragile in appearance. However, the Staff of Morven belonged to a powerful Elven sorcerer, and is used to amplify a magic user's potential two fold. With the weapon held in his possession, Gripus can cast twice as much spells, at twice the power, than if he did not have it.
Silver Dagger - A twelve inch silver blade, with a ceremonial handle of gold. It is unremarkable, save for the elegant designs cut into the metal, and bears no magical properties.

Steed: Shadowmere, a black courser and an Imperial thoroughbred; such animals are known for their stamina and swiftness, but lack the strength of war horses. 

Abilities: Nay, Gripus is just a man. 

Talents:

Scholar - Gripus is well versed in the histories of the world, and indeed that of the Empire. He reads religiously, believing that knowledge is the key to achieving any real power in the world.
Combat Alchemist - Gripus is also an adept combat alchemist, and his knowledge of herblore allows him to craft poisons and explosive compounds. However, he is less educated on the other potentials of alchemy.

Magic:

Arcane Spell Caster - Gripus is an adept follower of the arcane arts, having mastered the School's elementary assortment of spells, and is capable of waging offensive and defensive warfare. He can fire bolts of arcane energy, summon force-fields to ward off the counter-attacks of other magic, and can enchant himself and others with arcane glyths to enhance strength and vitality. However, the more he casts, and the greater the spells, then the more exhausted he becomes - and it is entirely possible for him to kill himself in this fashion.

Recovering from Arcane magic takes as long as the user needs to restore their strength; someone who has almost killed themselves through exhaustion would require days.

Backstory: Gripus began life as an orphan, his parents unable to feed yet another mouth. They abandoned him to the streets, and left him to fend for himself - even though he was a newborn at the time. Luckily, fate smiled on him, as he was taken in by monks belonging to the Imperial Magi. At first the monks attempted to rehome him, but as he neared his second year, they were able to sense that he had a strong connection to the magical arts. Thus, they turned him over to their combat-based brothers. 

He spent twenty years as an Imperial Magi Apprentice before he was ordained into the ranks of his seniors, and had undergone a grueling training regime alongside other individuals who were similarly gifted. It wasn't long until he was thrust headlong into the Emperor's wars, and he spent an additional decade touring the Empire's vast frontiers. 

It was at the Battle of Fort Meridius in the Eastern Desert Realms, that he slew the Sand Elf King Morven I, and took his staff - an item that enhanced Gripus' power and standing two fold among the Imperial Magi. The defeat of Morven made Gripus famous for a while, and he was honoured by the Emperor with an official title: "Hero of the East". 

When Iron Coast fell to rot and undeath, Gripus formed part of the Imperial Magi response. He saw the green fog first hand, and studied it relentlessly in the Magi's laboratories. He'd never seen anything like it, and nor had anyone else - but curiosity delayed action, and by the time the Empire reacted, Shmern had already fallen. 

After the Battle of Emperor's Folly, the Imperial Magi withdrew from the faltering province to regroup, and Gripus followed suit. However, when Magnor Dragonblade sued for peace in the Summer, Gripus and his brothers returned to strike the Necromancer down; Magnor was a sincere threat, not just to the Empire, but the world, and had to be nullified. 

Gripus lost many of his brothers that day, and he himself suffered serious injuries, so much so that he has had to disguise his burned and warped flesh with the visage of a younger and healthier man. After Magnor was defeated, Gripus retired from the Imperial Magi and refused to take part in any more battles - instead he threw himself into his works, prolonging his life with arcane enhancements and remolding his battered body.

When news reached him of a new evil stirring in Iron Coast, Gripus knew it fell to him to go back and finish the job, as he and the Imperial Magi should have done fifty years ago.

Starting Location: Campus Magnus

Swampogreknight's Characters

Name: Godric Boneshatter

Creature Race: Revenant

Gender: Male

Undeath Age: 37

Appearance: 

Abilities: The Darkness has gifted him with unnatural strength, and the ability to use his rage to boost this quality.

Talents: Godric has an excellent mind for military strategy and his "men" follow his orders without question because of this ability. He is known for making split second decisions on the battlefield, often saving many of his allies lives. He is skilled with two handed weaponry, and his unholy strength aid him greatly in this department.

Weapons: A long, black hilted blade is his main weapon. While the blade was once shining steel, it is now rusted and chipped from long years without care. The head of a bear, carved from wood, sits at the base of the hilt. He occasionally caries a short, black bow, made of wood from the Corpsewood.

Steed: Godric rides a grey horse, covered in decaying flesh

Magic: Godric is not particularly skilled in any school of magic, and is known to regard magic users as weak. He often dislikes and disobeys wraiths for this reason. The closest thing to magic he uses would be his ability to convert anger and frustration into strength, and even that is somewhat automatic.

The Tale of a Corpse: Godric commanded an imperial force from Gallowsford at the battle of Emperor's Folly, but was slain there. After the battle, he was raised from the dead and was charged with the command of a large number of undead in his home city. At Fort Eleptus, he was pivotal in breaking the garrison, and was quickly moved up through the ranks of the undead, second only to one other revenant in Gallowsford. In I.R. 504, he lead an uprising in an attempt to take control of the town, but was put down by a resident wraith. Despite his disobedience, his life has been spared, but has been exiled from the city and has been forced to command a humiliatingly small force in the iron mountains instead.

FateWeaver's Characters

Name: Liliana Stormshadow

Age: 184

Gender: Female

Race: High Elf

Race Overview: The near-immortal race of legend, Elves have walked the world since before time was counted. With lithe forms and pointed ears, Elves can be found nearly anywhere, in harmony with nature. High Elves in particular live deep in their enchanted forests and are rarely seen among more mortal peoples. When one does venture out, it tends to be an individual of strong will and great strength, or one exiled for great crime or shame. Oftentimes, it is both. Elven traits include sharp senses, low-light vision, and a prolonged life. High Elves in particular are extremely long-lived, and nearly all of them have hair one shade of blonde or another.

Titles: The Fallen Star (among her kin) and Sun's Disgrace (among her Order)

Appearance: Liliana's most striking features are her platinum blonde hair, which is straight and falls to her waist though it us usually tied back, and bronze eyes. Less noticeable, but still easily separating her from the other races around her are her larger than average pointed ears and sharp features. For an elf she is relatively thick of body, with curves to match, but do not be fooled. The majority of her mass is lean muscle, earned in her years on the front lines defending the Iron Coast from the initial Undead threat.

Weapons:
Redeemer Edge:: This curved, two-hand sword is Liliana's primary weapon. Runes inscribed on both sides of the blade glow golden in the presence of Undead. Upon striking many of the weaker Undead, the one hit will burst into gold flames and disintegrate. Against living opponents, this weapon appears to have no magical properties. The blade gleams like polished silver and the wire-wrapped hilt is inlaid with gold.

Whisper:: A silverwood longbow, strung with unicorn hair. Though it will never break and is very powerful compared to a normal bow, it is otherwise unremarkable.

Mithril Scale:: Though not truly magical, Liliana's armor is rather special. The mage-worked steel has a light blue tint and provides her a measure of resistance against magical attack, as well as making it incredibly hard and light. She wears scaled shirt of layered metal plates with only one pauldron, and a half-skirt of the same belted around her hips to cover her flanks. Her other armor includes mithril bracers and sabatons over leather gloves and breeches.

Steed: As a Paladin, Liliana once rode a unicorn, Andruin, into battle. She has lost the ability to summon her companion, and refuses to replace him with a mundane mount.

Abilities:
Divine Grace:: Liliana is immune to most mundane sicknesses and disease, and will remain in the prime of her physical condition for many decades to come.

High Elf Blood:: High Elves are naturally attuned to all forms of magic and can use any not specifically granted by a particular deity. Liliana is unskilled in most arts, having devoted much of her life to Sol and her blade.

Talents: Liliana is an excellent fighter with blade, bow, or her bare hands. She also has skills in herblore and forestry, as well as a vast knowledge of history. With her knowledge of the wilderness, she makes a wonderful scout, guide, and cook for any group on the road.

Magic:
Natural Magic:: This magic calls upon mother nature to provide what is needed most, be that a simple meal or a raging storm. Small animals can be turned into messengers or a dead plant can be returned to life to give food or medicine. Liliana has not spent much time with this magic, but has perfected a single spell; one that calls down blast of lighting at a nearby designated location. It drains her considerably to use it often, but she can manage to pull it off at least three times a day.

Sol's Gift:: As one Disgraced, Liliana has extremely limited access to her once-formidable array of holy magic. Where once she could have called upon the Sun's light to wash away legions of the dead, she can now only manage a single scalding ray projected from her palm. There was a time when she could recall a soul to its body and return it to proper life, but now she struggles to heal even minor wounds. 

Backstory: As a youth, Liliana spent her time in her woodland home as a gardener and tamer of flying beasts. She married young, for an elf, and thought her life idyllic and wonderful. That was, until a thing almost unheard of among her kin came to pass. Upon returning from a hunt with her prized hawk she discovered her husband to be unfaithful, catching him with another woman. Showing a depth of emotion unknown to High Elves she struck down both in a fit of rage, killing them. This earned her the ire of her elders and race as a whole, and she was cast out to live among those less removed from the world.

Lost and alone, she turned to a guiding light in the darkness. Liliana discovered her new purpose in the worship of Sol, God of the Sun. Aiding those in need and striking out against the forces of darkness, she aspired to become a Paladin. She was accepted into the Brotherhood of the Sun due to her exceptional skill and the high priest's orders, despite the Order's previous exclusion of women among their ranks. This led to her being disliked by many, but especially hated by the Knight-Commander, Orlan. When things started falling apart, she was dispatched to the Iron Coast with minimal support and only one other Paladin.

During the original Undead threat Liliana was ever on the front lines, desperate to prove herself. In the end, this led to her undoing. In a particularly bloody battle the small group of soldiers she and her companion, Aren, had joint command of, was entirely wiped out. Before they were able to retreat, Aren fell to the Revenant leading their opponents. Outmatched and outnumbered, Liliana barely escaped with her life to report to the Order. In the end, Knight-Commander Orlan ruled that she was to blame for this disaster, and had her cast out. Disgraced and alone once more, she returned to the Iron Coast to seek her end. It has yet to come and now, many years later, she seeks to redeem herself in the eyes of her Order by ending this curse once and for all.

Starting Location: Campus Magnus

Name: Luca James Warren

Age: 22

Gender: Male

Race: Human

Titles: Raven Queen’s Attendant

Appearance: 

Weapons:
Raven's Regret:: This 6' ancient dark oak staff is layered with enchantments that make it nigh unbreakable. It also seems to strike with much more force than an ordinary staff, and leaves behind a layer of frost on any surface it touches. Followers of the Raven Queen suffer no harm from the frost effect, and it is not produced in the hands of a non-follower.

Steed: Luca rides a white mare dappled with gray spots. The courser's name is Snow, and like almost all of Luca's equipment was a gift from the temple.

Abilities: 
Raven Queen’s Blessing:: The weaker and less intelligent Undead seem to ignore Luca, or at least prefer other targets, until he himself attacks. This is due to the Raven Queen’s affiliation with death in general.

Circle of Life:: When a living creature near Luca dies, it replenishes a meagre portion of his stamina.

Talents: Luca is skilled in herblore and general first aid. His combat talents lean toward staves and other long weapons, though he prefers to rely on his magic when pressed and otherwise let others do the real fighting.

Magic: Luca’s magic, due to being associated with a deity, is generally considered ‘holy.’ It does, however, encompass some powers of a darker nature. The Raven Queen’s domains include Winter, Fate, and Death. While provided from a divine source, Luca’s magic is limited to the extent of his physical and mental stamina. Major workings or continuous casting will exhaust or even kill him. He generally recovers fairly quickly, but he can only do so much in a day.

Luca’s magic is also reliant on his faith in his deity. If he is given cause to question or abandon his beliefs, he may be unable to use his abilities.

Winter:: This comprises most of Luca’s combat spells, mostly defensive in nature. Walls and lances of ice, freezing storms, and a paralyzing cold touch are all examples.

Fate:: This magic allows Luca to alter the fate of those around him in minor ways. While he cannot influence events directly, he can provide support. An ailing or injured ally could be healed enough to soldier on, while a dying enemy can be granted a merciful and painless end. Minor wards and chance-altering spells also fall under this purview, but Luca has little experience with them.

Death:: The most controversial of Luca’s magic, it does not seem so bad as it first appears. In no way can he return the dead to life or control the Undead. At most, he can summon a shade of one recently dead to converse with them. Otherwise, this mostly ties in with Luca’s ability to work more magic when surrounded by the dead and dying.

Backstory: Luca was orphaned very young in his life, his family the victim of the forces of the undead. The four-year-old boy survived only by hiding, and by virtue of the interest the Winter Goddess had taken in him. A priest had already been dispatched to retrieve him, with the attack being an unfortunate coincidence of timing. The priest, Brother Valerian, brought the boy to the Raven Queen’s temple in Entrium, where he was raised as though a child of the goddess herself.

Growing to resent the constant near-worship of those around him, Luca seeks independence and adventure. Within the temple, he is constantly called upon to work some minor healing, or ease the passing of a loved one, or contact one lost for final goodbyes. It is only outside that he really feels alive, able to practice his art out of his own need and desire rather than at the will of others. Still, he is ever called to serve the Raven Queen and does so willingly. When he comes across those in need he lends a hand however he can, be it in combat or with his arts, or even a simple blessing to raise spirits.

Starting Location: Actium

Rechonq's Characters

Name: Waleskevon  (Wal)

Age: 72

Gender: Male

Race: Elf

Race Overview: Elves are not immortal, but do live very long lives. They used to live in the Unforgetting woods and Iron forest, but after the undead rise they were forced out into the cities and took on more of the human traditions.

Titles: High Monk

Appearance: Tall and slender with no markings on his body. Though he is slender he is still very strong and quick. He wears an ordinary brown robe and a rice hat to protect him. He keeps his black hair short to keep it neat and out of his way. His 6'4 stature is rather impressive to most, but with a second glance he seems rather unimpressive. He does have the odd habit of keeping strange walking sticks though.

Weapons: Wal is very efficient with any weapon. Not always in the way that weapon should be used, but he manages to use any weapon nonetheless. He also has a strange desire to always use the other guys weapon. He has a grass is always greener, or in his care a weapon is always sharper in his hands. So Wal does the logical things and takes those weapons from their hands. Then cuts them down with them. Normally whatever weapon he ends a fight with becomes his walking staff. It isn't uncommon for him to be seen using a warhammer or longsword as a staff or cane. 

Abilities: Great Constitution and Strength. May not seem supernatural, but to some of the extents he has trained them they are. Such as the fact he has no steed is he can now match a horses gallop for days at a time.

Talents: Great mastery with all weapons. Great hand to hand combat as well. He specializes in disarming others.

Magic: He can use Ki to accomplish some fantastic feats. These include creating winds, breaking boulders in half, and even juggling drops of water, among others.

Backstory: Wal was young when the Elves were forced from the forest. He held a grudge against Magnor Dragonblade and vowed to take revenge on him. Unfortunately with the Elves scattered becoming a traditional elf warrior wasn't going to be possible for him. His family tried to get him to forget about it, but he wouldn't let it go. He eventually ran away. With no plan on what he was going to do he managed to barely survive in th corpsewood for a few months. Weak and on the verge of starvation he ran into a few of the mindless undead. Unable to defend himself, this was seemingly the end for him. For once things looked up for him. A monk saved him that day and took Wal with him. There Wal began to train under them. He learned how to control his anger. The monks didn't try to take away his desire for revenge, but instead trained him for the day he achieved it. They trained him and taught him their martial arts. They also prepared him to have peace once his revenge was fulfilled. His long life gave him the opportunity to train and learn twice as much as the others. He eventually surpassed the monks and set out to fulfil his goal. He promised to return to them and become a teacher for others as they had done for him.

Starting Location: Actium

AtomicNut's Characters

Name:Pyria

Age:50

Gender: Female

Race: Dragon (Whelp)

Race Overview: The race of the legends. Even though it is but a waning echo nowadays, few do question the threat a mature dragon would posess. With an armor all but the most wondrous weapons can cut, a breath that can fell armies and toughness and resilience that only grows with age, the ability to fly and keen intellect and senses, there are few things who could threaten a dragon one on one. However their solitary, territorial nature, unbridled arrogance and long maturing age requirements have made them lose ground steadily to lesser, more dinamic and numerous races. The threat of the undead in the Iron Coast has probably only added more foes to their sparse numbers. A dragon can't prey on the undead for profit, afterall.

Titles: Child of the Flame

Appearance: Pyria's true nature is that of a dragon whelp the size of a horse. With glistening red scales, and expressive golden eyes, it's less scary than actually endearing and cute, in a ugly reptilian way. She keeps a single magical manacle on her left forepaw, stating the name of her (eventual) master. She can also assume the appearance of a waifish 10 year old with red unkept hair, gold eyes which usually wears a single piece gray ragged dress and the same magical manacle on her left hand. She's fond of being barefooted in such form.

Weapons: Pyria doesn't carry weapons on her own. She leaves all the work to her dragonling claws, jaws and still-maturing fire breath (who can sometimes misfire).

Abilities: She can fly well, and rip and tear flesh with her jaws and claws. Her scales are sturdy enough to resist fire, small blades like daggers (but not swords and axes) and the most basic of attack spells. She can also ignite a rather decent firebreath if she focuses enough and doesn't panic.  In her human form, she, well, can run, scream, and crawl into holes... 

Talents: She can stare into your soul with puppy eyes. She's also a good appraiser of the value of an item, and she seems to learn rather quickly when it comes to magic. She can speak dragon-y. She can also stay awake for days.

Magic: As a dragon, she's an innate magical potential waiting to happen. Even just if she's harvested as spell component material. She has been taught one spell: The one to assume a non-threating human form in order to serve as a mage´s familiar. She can also somewhat put up a deceptively sturdy magic barrier for a brief while.

Backstory: Fifty years ago, when the undead plague scoured the Iron Coast, a battle was fought on the Saviour's pass. By mere fluke, the Imperial Magi happened to find a nesting female dragon in the eve of the battle. The worst case scenario did not come to be, as the dragon, far from being the oldest and mightiest of her race, acknowledged the threat of the Undead as something that not even her prowess could hope to defeat, and struck a deal with the lesser races of the empire.

In return for her services, her clutch of eggs would be evacuated and nurtured in the Empire, for she wished them to live and not become the Necromancer's sacrifices. The eggs were taken by the retreating imperial forces, and the might of the she-dragon roared all over the battlefield, until the firepower of the undead forces managed to even fell her, her carcass hitting the ground after a long last stand that was never recorded in any book.

Pyria was hatched from one of such eggs, and like her brethen, were raised by the Imperial Magi, and distributed among certain mages of respect as elite familiar companions. Pyria and her master soon jumped in the call for arms against the undead. Not only because the money and fame, which were the main reason of her master, but because she wanted to know where her true roots were.

Unfortunately, said master perished all too soon in an undead raid, leaving the still young dragon stranded and lost, like a street orphan child of the human races. 

Starting Location: Actium

Name: Tsabal

Age: 196

Gender: Female

Race: Drow

Race Overview: The villanous, forsaken cousins of the elves, trapped deep underground. They share the long lifespans, the nimbleness and the magic aptitude of other elves, however drow are also infamous for their resistance to magic. Twisted in an autocratic female theocracy who foments murder and sacrifices, they're cunning creatures, always looking for an opportunity to strike back at the surface who once cast them away. Having been so used to the dark and damp tunnels of the earth, they have trouble adjusting to the sunlight, and it saps their strength right away.

Titles: The Pretender (Among Drow), Dark Whisperer (among others).

Appearance: Tsabal is a lithe, well proportioned drow. With lilac eyes and cascading silver hair that she keeps in a ponytail, she appears far more harmless and gentle than she actually is. Tsabal confines herself to complete body concealing robes and hood of simple construction and earthy colors, and seldom shows her face in public, specially during daytime. Beneath that, she has a pendant of a dark goddess in her neck, denoting her priestess status. If need be, she can fight in a dark half plate with a shield.

Weapons: 
Spinerender : This hand-and-half (bastard) sword of demonic craft is Tsabal's most prized posession. A sword of exquisite, if ghastly appearance, it burns everything it cuts with unholy energies. The sword itself is said to be cursed, and only those with enough willpower may wield it without succumbing to bloodlust. Tsabal herself acquired her weapon by sacrificing her newborn son to a greater demon.

Crossbow: Her more mundane weapon. It's just a well-made light crossbow. She also carries silver-tipped bolts just in case.

Steed: Bane of Gardeners, a somewhat mischievous donkey which she rides. For some reason he likes to eat prized flower patches.

Abilities: As a drow, Tsabal has enhaced senses and can see into the darkest pit without any problem. She's also fairly resistant to hostile magic. She however, loses a great deal of strength in open sunlight, and repeated exposition might even harm and kill her. While fighting in open daytime, she's as helpless as a clumsy barmaid.

Talents: Tsabal was reared as a priestess of whatever Dark Goddess the drow worship, and a such she's no stranger in the ways of commanding and diplomacy. She's also good with her sword, and she has a decent skill with the crossbow. As a priestess and a healer, she's also a good medic and herbalist...and an excellent poisoner.

Magic: Tsabal's dark arts fundamentally draw from three sources, and two of such are highly forbidden arts. All of them, are however linked to her goddess, and unless she satisfies the whimsical and terrible nature of her deity, she'll be rendered helpless.

Clerical Magic: The most widespread and basic magic among clerics. It includes healing wounds, and setting up blessings. It also includes the art of divination through animal sacrifices, and the highly sought Resurrection spell.  Of course in this last case, resurrection carries a price to pay, usually in the form of human sacrifices, or if need be, a lot of materials and animal sacrifices.

Dark Arts: The ability to wither and tamper with undeath is a given among the drow clergy. They can perform curses that sap one's strenght and wilt and age someone before their eyes, and even create, repair and command undead. Tsabal however, can't create anything bigger than the basic undead, and she can't control anything beyond a lesser revenant with her magic (and even a lesser revenant is difficult to steer).

Infernal Arts: The most forbidden arts Tsabal knows, these tamper with the demonic energies and beings. The most basic use of Infernal arts is the ability to summon hellfire, an unholy black magical flame that burns through things it even shouldn't be capable of. Hellfire is difficult and taxing to cast, and if Tsabal is not careful she might end up dead by overexertion. A second application of this involves creating summoning rituals to bring forth demons, although summoning anything greater than imps might carry a chance of the summon revolting and killing the caster. Tsabal learned the infernal arts from a greater demon after sacrificing the lover whom she had sired a son with.

Backstory: Tsabal was once an aspiring, all ambitious priestess and commander of the drow that dwelt beneath the Iron Coast. Her arrogance and ill-timed incursion in the surface 50 years ago cost all her followers, and almost her graces with the goddess and her own life. That made her rethink her ways and strategy. Rather than blindly charging in a lustful frenzy to spill the blood of the surfacers, she needed to get a wider view of the world at large.

Tsabal spent decades travelling from town to town as a mysterious crone, offering divinations, healing and poisons to the most seedy of individuals. She started from the bottom, and slowly rose and infiltrated herself in the ranks of the Empire underbelly, now fractured and in recession. She learned how to pull the strings and concocted a master plan, one that would pave the ground for a drow invasion.

But the theme of resources was a constant worry, and as such, she heeded the call of riches to the Iron Coast. Perhaps in addition she could further her schemes and reunite with her folk, deadlocked by the undead invasion.

Starting Location: Campus Magnus

OneStoryToMany's Characters

Name:
 Lady Ellasapet Shamesdaughter

Nickname: 
El

Age: 
127

Gender: 
Female

Race: 
Half Elf/Half Drow

Race Overview: 
Elves are naturally inclined towards magic and light. Drawing from the power of nature and life. Drows are naturally resistant to magic, drawing from the power of shadows and death. These two races were never meant to mix. Being a mut from the two has caused a wasting sickness within El. Both have natural physical strength which El draws on with her anthropomagics.

Titles: 
Lady of Shame (Bequeathed to her by her mother) Sage of life (Bequeathed to her by her mentor due to the nature of her research and apparent future success.)

Appearance: 

El stands at 5" 4' and weighs 120lbs. Her photosensitive grey skin is shielded by a cloak at all times during the day, though at night she'll pull the hood down. Most of her appearance is hidden by this cloak that covers her from head to tow, excluding her face, which is protected with a stripe of paint and a blessing given by a follower of Sol, God of the Sun, and growing things. It only offers marginal protection and she keeps her face in the shadows of her cowl as much as possible.

Weapons:
Staff of bone- A staff made from a giant's leg bone. El harvested it from the still living body of the giant, by taking it from the living body, and enchanting it at the same time, she created a staff that is nearly unbreakable due to the amount bone density. Then continued to force the remainder of the giant's living potential within it. El is capable of harvesting still living cells from it, and uses them as a source of food and magical component.

Hollow death- El's father's prized possession.  The blade has a poison on it that is both herbal and magical in nature. It causes paralysis and intense pain, until the victim dies. A single nick is enough to infect them. However to do this the blade itself must make contact with blood. The blade is limited in usefulness due to the power of the enchantment, something had to be given in exchange. The blade is dull, and can never be sharpened.

Steed: 
N/A, read Abilities for more information. 

Abilities: 
Photosensitive skin and eyes- El's drow heritage causes her to be sensitive to the Sun's rays. Consistent exposure leads  to painful burning, and if multiple days are spent in view of the Sun, she will eventually die.

Enhanced night vision- El's drow heritage gives her enhanced vision into shadows, the dark, and at night. She's pushed this ability to the limit with her anthropomagics,  however this has caused her eyes to be extra sensitive during the day. she'd be blinded if not for the blessing she wears.

Blessing of Sol- A blessing which gives her protection from the Dun, by a follower of Sol. 

Enhanced magic resistance- El's drow heritage gives her enhanced resistance to combative magic. Prior to her experiments woth alchemy and anthropomagics she was naturally resistant to all magic.  She didn't like that, so she changed it.

Increased muscle mass- Using her small skill anthropomagics, she increased her muscle mass giving her additional strength and speed.

Imcreased stamina- El's stamina has been increased using anthropomagics, I.e. she can run for a full day straight. However she'll need to rest for several hours after doing so.

Enhanced healing- El's body heals faster than normal, but drains the remaining living matter within the staff.

Retarded aging- El's aging has been slowed by both her Elven heritage and her enhanced healing.

Talents: 
Has mediocre skill fighting with staff or dagger. Most opponents will have little to no difficulty beating her in a physical confrontation. 

Polyglot- El knows several languages due to her travels.

Magical Scholar- El is a scholar of multiple schools of magic, and has an extremely firm grasp of magical theory.

Anatomical expert- El has personally led several disections...and maybe a few vivesections.

Anthropophage/Hematophage- El can eat the flesh, bones, organs, etc. As well as drinking the blood of animals, humans, and humanoids to sustain herself, heal, or recharge her magic.

Magic:
El is both an Alchemist and an Anthropomagus. 

Alchemy-
El can create potions, poisons, and several different compounds (from explosives to adhesive) if she has the components at hand. However this was not her focus, she dived into the more active magical side. El can draw out alchemical circles allowing her to change, add, enhance, hamper, seal, release, and so many more things. Unfortunately,  the law of equivalent exchange demands equality.  What this means, to fix something,  she'd need all of the pieces of the broken item, plus something of equal value that will be broken in it's stead. However it could be equal in financial value, personal value, usefulness,  or so on and so forth.

Examples of Alchemy she can complete:
Repair- If an item is broken, and there is an item of equal value to break in it's stead, El can move the break from one item to the other. If no item is available,  but she has a source of sustenance (anthropophage/hematophage) is available she can complete it, but must eat both before and after the completion.

Sealing- El can seal an item, sentient being, or magical construct into a pre-prepared "box". The exchange would be releasing something else that was sealed, or releasing half of her genetic make up. (Basically becoming either fully drow or elf)

Releasing-basically the same as sealing except backwards.

This is by no means a complete list, but she requires components and/or time. (Something to draw with is always required.)

Anthropomagics-
El has spent the last 10 years of her life researching, and practicing anthropomagics. This school of magic is specifically relating to the body. Using this magic skill set, El can alter the body (the flesh, bones, chemicals, skin, organs, etc.) to enhance, hamper, heal, alter, etc.

Examples of this nagic are ax follows:

'Roid rush- El can manipulate the chemicals, blood, and blood vessels and cause intense muscular growth in a shortt time period. If abused, the individual can be driven into a rage, can cause heart problems, the bones can become damaged if she doesn't also increase density.

Healing- El can manipulate the cells, platelets,  chemicals, bones, etc. Involved in the healing process and increase speed of healing.(I.e. Someone breaks a bone, and the sharp end comes out of the skin. An alchemist would be iffy useful in a situation, there'd have to be something of equal value to break in order to heal it. But an anthropomagus would be able to force the arm straight then make the bone cells start to grow and reconnect the two pieces, and then causes the platelets to surge up and begin drying over the open wound. Advancing healing by days, and with repeated use cut total recovery time to days, a week or two at most. Instead of months.)

Adrenalyze- El can cause an adrenaline rush, and temporarily increase reaction time, strength, speed, and mental focus and acuity.

Make-over- Given time, and incentive El can recreate any person's body into a new shape or add enhancements to it. Imagination is the key to what can be done.
 This is by no means a complete list but does offer a good example of magical skill set.

El will demand payment for her skills. Point blank, end of story. However, payment can be in blood, components,  money, flesh, so on so forth. She prefers bartering.

Backstory: 
El was conceived in an act of rape by   drow. Her mother never forgave El for existing. She named her Shamesdaughter, because she was the daughter of her greatest shame. Later when El reach Ladyhood within the Elven Courts, she named her Lady of Shame. Her title being the right of her mother. El is old by human standards, though still a child by the standards of her forefathers. El remembers when the rise of Iron Coast was occurring, lived through the empire's expansion. And lived through the subsequent fall. She was a girl of 17 when the humans annexed and entered tge Iron Coast. And spent the next 14 years watching them scape out an existence, then prosper in her homelands. She remembers fleeing out of the Iron Forest from the first wave of the undead in I.R. 480, she was 76. When she came to the town, she was deathly ill, and was rescued by an old human alchemist who later became her mentor. He taught her alchemy for 20years, until he passed away in his sleep. She continued her research for the next 21 years she dived into alchemy. Not finding a permanent cure for her illness or immortality El started researching anthropomagics. The next ten years proved more fruitful than the previous 41 years. However she hit a wall, she needed funds. Ahortly after her 127th birthday, she heard about a chance to make a large sum of money. She set off to Campus Magnus immediately. 

Starting Location:
Campus Magnus

TheHangedMan's Characters

Name: Sarai

Age: 17

Gender: Female

Race: Human

Titles:(These titles are known only to a niche few, who are familiar with her story)

	Death's Favored Friend 

	The Reapers Daughter

	Maiden of Lisandris 

Appearance:

	Sarai stands just a bit above 5ft, with a healthy body that makes itself known despite her conservative clothing. Despite her soft appearance, there is a kind of light in her eyes that makes those with good-sense wary of her.

Weapons: A silver dagger.

Steed: N/A

Abilities:

Sarai was born with an innate sense of feeling the cycle of life and death, such that it has given her an affinity with the living dead, among other abilities.

	Ballad of Death - Weakens all living (not undead) creatures within audible distance of her voice. Undead within reach gain strength with every note. The longer she sings, the more undead will begin to gravitate towards her, making it possible for her to pull large crowds of lesser undead towards her location. Plugged ears nullify this ability.

	Death Pact - Mindless undead will not touch her unless she strikes them first. Undead with rational minds will find it hard to approach her with ill intent, but can overcome the compulsion with effort.

	Transfer Vitality - Sarai can mediate the life forces between two creatures, living or undead, making it possible for her to transfer wounds and illnesses between the two. If she pushes herself, she can do this between whole groups. Needs skin contact for this to work.

Talents:

	She can sing beautifully, mostly ballads and mourning tunes.

	She can sketch.

	Able to cook great food . . . so long as it involves meat.	

Magic:

	Sarai is a capable healer, combining her natural abilities with training she received from the monastery; however, this is just a cover up for her true affinity.
	Sarai is a talented Necromancer, able to summon and control about twenty lesser undead at a time, or even some Lesser Wraiths. At most, Sarai can command a single Revenant with difficulty. 
	Sarai has had no formal training with Necromancy whatsoever, and everything she can do in relation to the practice is purely instinctive.

Backstory:

	Sarai was - and still is - a girl born to love death. Every aspect of it, she has embraced. Born to a noble family in the City-Fort of Lisandry, outside of Iron Coast, she immediately proved to be an unusual child. Pets that she loved in life stayed with her long past their expiry date. Back at her manor, the unburied corpses of her pets kept her company, and frightened the whole household. She would talk to them, play with them, and act as though nothing had changed between them. 
	Once, on the eve of her fifth birthday, the chamberlain of the household witnessed Sarai in the act of raising the dead - a skill that has long been the subject of persecution under the empire since the dawn of Magnor Dragonblade. Her parents, in an effort to conceal her abilities and hide the disgrace that was their eldest daughter, sent her to a monastery to be trained as a healer for five years. Ironically, this did nothing but further enhance Sarai's potential as a budding necromancer. 
	The more she learned about preserving life, the more she learned about bringing about death. The teachings of the monastery's healers proved to her that life and death were not a cycle, merely a straight line, with one stage following the next. She began making no distinctions between the living and the dead.
	The monastery elders, upon learning that she had simply gotten worse, attempted to curb her fascination with the dead by introducing her to the land of Iron Coast, where the greatest and most terrible necromancer to ever surface preformed the greatest feats of necromancy to ever behold the land, and with it, the atrocities that followed. For seven long years, they lectured her on the terror of undeath, and the lives of people that must be respected, all the while furthering her training as a Healer.

	Needless to say, this backfired horribly.

	Sarai was more enraptured than ever with the concepts of life, death, and undeath. She struck a deal with the head of her order: In return for helping out all those that would go to Iron Coast to end the threat of a burgeoning army of undead, under the command of a suspected Wraith, she would accompany them to those lands of death. Hands tied and unable to think of anything more to do for her, she was given their blessings, and now roams among the many adventurers and would-be heroes on their way to the Dead-lands, free to practice her art as she wished.

Starting Location: Actium

Name: Thorn

Creature Race: Revenant (however, his mind is less coherent than that of his peers)

Gender: Male

Undeath Age:  40

Appearance:

	Thorn is a massive revenant, a testament to his build and strength in life. He stands just shy of 7ft, with large hands and wide shoulders. He is constantly armored and rarely ever takes off his helmet. Underneath his steel, however, is a desperate and weary face, set upon decaying flesh.

Abilities:

	While Thorn was already inhumanly strong in life, death has augmented it to mythic levels; such that it is entirely possible for Thorn to tear his own body down due to the stress of it. Another ability he has been cursed with is an inability to feel pain from normal weapons and magic.

Talents:

	In life, Thorn was a warrior that charged into battle with the terrifying combination of battle-tested instinct, raw power, and skill. Now, in death, he brings this all with him augmented by the powers undeath has granted him. Still, these great skills of his is hampered by frequent bouts of madness where he can no longer distinguish between past and present.

Weapons:

	A regular flanged mace and two-handed sword. Despite the years, they have been meticulously cared for and still retain their luster and sharpness.

Steed:

	A large, armored war horse that was Thorn's boon companion in life, now following him in death.

Magic:

	While before, he could use various magics, now he cannot. All that remains is his most prized ability: he can enchant his steel to cut through magic and prevent it from touching him. Unfortunately, this magic is 'holy' based, so with every use he burns himself. Not to mention that he can heal living creatures using holy magic, which is even more deadly to him.

The Tale of a Corpse:

	Before Thorn came to be, was Thomas. Thomas was born in a hamlet nearby Actium, and his youth was marked by poverty and chaos. Though he was born during the height of the Empire's - and, conversely Iron Coast's - prosperity, he was one of the few that did not benefit from it. His father was terrible with money, as he was oft to use whatever meager pay he had earned cleaning the harbors at the gambling tables. His mother was no better. The daughter of a wealthy merchant who had eloped, she grew embittered at the lack of money and romance in her life, and took it out on her son. Thomas, for his part, grew to become a thief and troublemaker. He constantly got into trouble - with the law, with other street rats like himself - until one day, trouble had come around and had gotten into him instead. 
	Thomas had contracted a disease, one that slowly eroded at his body. It was at this time that the Magnor Dragonblade scandal had happened, and many at the time were hard up - none more-so than his family. Not unable and not bothered to find someone capable of curing him, Thorn's father dumped him outside of the city of Actium, covered in leaves so as not to be found, and left him for the dogs. He could only curse his luck in life, unable to move, unable to cry. It was then that his fortunes turned around.
	A visiting commander of the Empire happened to find him, despite the foliage he was covered in, and rescued him. Ordering the troop physician to nurse him to health, Thomas, for the first time in his life, felt gratitude to another living being. He swore on that day, as his health recovered and his strength returned, that nothing, not even death would prevent him from repaying this man. On the day that he was proclaimed fit to return home, Thomas dropped to his knees and professed his undying loyalty to the man who had saved him. And thus, Thomas had changed:

	From beggar, to soldier. 

	From then on, he was to serve as part of the troop, serving under the Emperor and fighting their battles. Thomas could not care less. Now, he had a purpose in life. Now, he had companions who he trusted, and who trusted him. Here he had learned what it meant to fight for a cause, and here, he was taught the meaning of bravery. The man who had saved him proved not only honorable, but heroic, and Thomas made him into his example. In the few years that he had served, he distinguished himself as soldier, and gained a reputation of being an unstoppable juggernaut of the Empire. He learned magic to supplement his already impressive skills, and became the bane of the elves and the drows - for he had only learned magic to counter it. Physically, he became a warrior without peer; magically, only the deadliest could pierce his armor. Thomas had changed once more:

From soldier, to warrior

	Thomas fought in more battles, and the more he fought, the stronger he became. He was unstoppable on the field of battle, and carved out a reputation among the populace of the empire as a legendary hero reborn, and though Thomas basked in the fame, in his mind, all he could remember was the feeling of dying and being saved by a man, a man he had long ago out-shined and yet continued to serve. And thus, Thomas had reached the prime of his life. 

From warrior, to Hero.

	And, with the advent of the Emperors Folly, from Hero, to Monster.

	He fought valiantly, with the ferocity that made even the undead hesitate; he fought a battle worthy of his reputation, slaying more undead than could be counted by ten men. But no man is an army, and all men fall eventually. Thomas was overrun, and his black reward was undeath. His mind addled by the resurrection and his natural drive to dominate at conflict with his heroic nature, Thomas wandered the death-ridden planes, and killed all that came within reach - undead, especially. He retained the capacity for rational thought as a Revenant, but all it served to do was heighten his anguish.
	From then on, Thomas became a near mindless undead, with only a single goal in mind. His being warped and he became someone, something else. The years took its toll on him, and he isolated himself, preferring to avoid the other undead like himself. The isolation changed him, completing his transformation - his mindlessness receded, and yet, his bouts of madness grew stronger and more frequent. He could no longer be called Thomas - that was the name of another man; another life. 

	Finally, from Thomas, to Thorn

Marcus XVI's Characters

Name: Sir Ramius Kastagir, the White Raven

Creature Race: Revenant

Creature Race Overview: -

Gender: Male 

Undeath Age: 42

Appearance: In life the honourable White Raven was tall, wide shouldered and relatively handsome. He still holds his stature, standing nearly 7 feet tall, his shoulders still as wide as two lesser men. His once handsome face has became gaunt and scarred from years of fighting those who have opposed him. The skin of his left cheek has been torn off, leaving teeth and bone visible. His right eye was lost to an arrow in his final battle in the ranks of the living and the left one burns with what seems like blue fire - though it still retains at least some warmth. A small goatee still adorns his chin, just as jet black as his long hair which flows down to his shoulders.

Ramius' left arm has remained seemingly unharmed, the color of the skin has became a rancid green and the veins are visible as purple lines. His right arm is emaciated and rotten to the point of being mostly bone from below the shoulder.

The suit of plate armor that was once gleaming white has been blackened and bloodstained by the magic and the horrible injuries Ramius suffered in his final battle. Though the armor is more or less complete the White Raven's right forearm and hand are completely visible. Visible too are his ribs on the right side of his body. The tattered black cape he has hanging from his shoulders still has the white raven emblem barely discernable on it.

Abilities:

Commanding the Dead - Ramius can call upon the lesser undead and has with him a handful of lesser revenants who used to be his comrades in arms.

Touch of Death - Ramius can use his right hand to momentarily paralyze the living, a weak willed opponent is completely paralyzed, but an opponent with a strong enough will might easily break the paralysis.

Fury of Undeath - Ramius is able to push his undead body even further than your average revenant, he can seemingly take a horrendous amount of damage and still keep functioning.

Talents:

Skilled swordsman - though Ramius was not quite hailed as a master swordsman he was still quite a bit above an average swordsman. 

Skilled tactician - Ramius was not hailed as a master tactician either, but he has retained his cunning and can still come up with a plan or two if need be.

Ever the diplomat - In life the White Raven was both a warrior and a diplomat, he has retained his silver tongue to a degree - at least towards those whom he sees as being no true threat to himself.

Weapons: Two longswords strapped on his right hip, both with a blackened hilt and blade - infused with Ramius' hatred towards both the living and the undead. The pommel of both swords are quite large rubies. The weapons have been enchanted by the dark energies and the wielder's rage to infect any wounds they make.

Steed: -

Magic:

Necromancy - Ramius is skilled enough in necromancy to raise what some would refer to as a small army, however his approach is more quantity over quality. He is also able to cast a few spells that bolster the power of himself and his minions.

The Tale of a Corpse: The White Raven fell not due to his own failures, but due to the cowardice of the men fighting beside him. When he arose as a revenant his sheer fury towards the men who fought at his side kept him focused and sane. It was a stroke of luck that he came upon some of the men who were traitors in his opinion - to him, not to them - as Ramius unleashed his fury on the men who had left him to die the lesser dead began to gather around him. Soon the warrior began gathering a small army - even raising some of the former traitors to his side and crushing any revenant weaker than himself while staying clear of the more powerful ones until he could contend with them. The few living warriors who have faced the White Raven and remained in the ranks of the living tell a weird story about the man - or what remains of him - searching for a powerful enough opponent. Not so he could become truly dead, but to have a magnificent battle worthy of song. Even if it would mean Ramius himself would be the only one left to sing it.

Incredibee's Characters

Name: Al Valkanos

Age: 20

Gender: Male

Race: Human

Race Overview: HUMANITY

Titles: Al's not quite famous enough to have earned a title

Appearance: Al's taller than average, with decent muscle tone, but his long body makes him look leaner. His hair is a messy, unkempt mop of muddy brown hair, and his facial features are surprisingly soft. Albeit, he's usually got a bruise or bandage marring them.
His dress style is pretty comfy; he mostly wears loose fitting traveler pants and tightly buckled boots boots, with a cotton shirt and dingy longcoat up top, with the sleeves rolled to his elbows for a can-do look. His right hand and lower arm is wrapped in bandages for better wrist support and also so he doesn't lose his grip. On his back he has a heavy greatsword kept in a sling. He made a necklace out of a a beast's fang, and wears it as a lucky charm.

Weapons: Al's weapon of choice are greatswords. Currently, he wields a claymore a little over five feet in length. It's steel, and weighs in at about nine pounds, much heavier than average.
He's not terribly picky about substitute or auxiliary weapons.

Steed: A small, rickety cart drawn by a single horse. The cart contains his few worldly possessions. The driver's seat is too big for one person, but too small for two.

Abilities: Al is strong - much stronger than his frame would even suggest; he spent his youth wrestling animals for fun, when he wasn't toiling away with hard labor. He can dent metal with his fists, and can lift and throw even very heavy objects. He's durable to boot- It's pretty common for enemies to take a sledgehammer to his face, because anything less probably won't phase him. On top of all this, he has a frighteningly high pain tolerance. One can only wonder how many concussions he's received.

Talents: Naturally, his self-taught fighting style takes advantage of his strength and constitution, and focuses on Al throwing his momentum around to deliver maximum impact haymakers. Drop kicks are common, as are wild punches, suplexes, and throwing whatever's handy, up to and including the enemy. Additionally, Al carries around some form of greatsword, since he finds their length and mass are good for slinging around. A solid blow  from him can cleave through bone or failing that, batter the enemy like a heavy iron club. They also make handy throwing weapons.

Magic: No magic. Physical skills only.

Backstory: It's not precise to say Al's forgotten his past due to amnesia. It is, however, accurate to say he's forgotten where it is. However, when growing up, he was always considered a strong boy, even in a rural community where the pastime was wrestling wild animals. Al, however, couldn't be content living a life of mostly farming and whiling away the hours on the porch. He was the sort of child who liked to wander. One day, the year he became a man, he wandered a bit too far, and ever since then has gotten increasingly lost. Determined not to let that get him down, the then fifteen year old began a new life, the life of an adventurer, sellsword, and treasure hunter.
For most of his career, Al's worked alone, getting by the skin of his teeth. However, that changed when he shared a meal of boot leather soup with a young orphan. Since then, he's found a traveling companion in Serpica.
Together, the pair have headed west. The bounty offered by the empire is more than lucrative enough to put an end to all their financial troubles.

Starting Location: Actium

Shisa's Characters

Name: Serpica

Age: 10

Gender: Female

Race: Lamia

Race Overview: A creature with a human upper half but a snakelike lower half below the waist. Lamia have strong jaws that they can unhinge, a forked tongue, slit pupils, and sharp fangs. Their tails are very strong.

Titles: That Tiny Lamia Hobo on Third

Appearance: Serpica is a small Lamia girl with tan skin and long black hair pulled up into twintails with wire she found (Thereby giving her three tails total). She wears a dress made out of a burlap sack over her body (The pinnacle of street fashion), and has slitted amber eyes. Her thick tail is a black, scaled affair with an off-white bottom like many snakes. Her fangs tend to stick out over her lower lip, and she is quite filthy most of the time.

Weapons: None.

Steed: Black Thunder (A broken wooden rocking horse)

Abilities: Is a Lamia.

Talents: 
Serpica knows all the best dumpsters, especially for food.
She is very cute, despite filth.
She can put away a surprisingly large amount of food.
Iron stomach from eating garbage.
Very good at solo card games.

Magic: None 

Backstory: Serpica grew up as a homeless orphan in Actium. She never knew her parents, and relied on herself and the kindness of strangers to make it through life. She survived however she could day to day, digging clothes and food out of the trash, and entertained herself with broken toys and stray animals. Then, one day, a fellow hobo took her in and made her into an honorary adventurer. Her life was about to change.

Starting Location: Actium

Sessamaru's Characters

Name: Aramil Nailo

Age: 200

Gender: Male

Race: Half-Elf

Race Overview: Aramil is the offspring of a high elf mother and a human father. He appears to have favorable traits from both parents, though these are merely physical; despite this, he still appears as an elf to humans and a human to elves. 

Titles: The Black Sorcerer of Yr (Formally); The Old Magician (Within the Iron Coast)

Appearance
Aramil is an albino with mauve eyes. His hair is long and milky white, his skin the color of bleached bone. He is 6'2" tall and slender. Due to his parentage, he appears to have slightly pointed ears, slanted almond-shaped eyes, and a fair bone structure. His jawline is strong and angular, though his chin seems to be square rather than pointed, and his cheekbones are also high. His shoulders aren't as broad as the average human's, but they're slightly more broad than an elf's. Despite his otherworldly and youthful appearance, he appears quite sickly, even by the standards of albinism. His eyes are surrounded by prominent dark circles, his eyes hold a feverish glaze, and he seems physically frail. Aramil wears a long black robe and cloak, often wearing his hood low over his face, and he tends to take the appearance of an elderly man with a long white beard, walking with a hunch and a slightly more healthy skin tone (still pale, but with some color).

Weapons & Items
Ebony Wizard's Staff-- A gnarled staff of ebony with a crystal ball at its top; there is nothing particularly special about the staff aside from acting as a focus for Aramil's spellcasting, concentrating his magical abilities without the need of overextending himself. Added on top of his great will and control, the staff merely aids him in not wasting too much of his magic power.

Aramil's Heirloom-- This amulet was once his mother's. Originally, it served only as a memento, but as he became more knowledgeable and powerful in the field of magic, he decided to give the memento a permanent use. This memento allows him to disguise himself into whatever he wants to be, within reason since the enchantment is rather weak. As a half-elf, he much preferred to be inconspicuous, and thus he is often seen as an elderly man wearing dark robes and carrying a staff. The enchantment within the heirloom is limited in that the person cannot change their height, their voice, nor their weight; but they can change their race, within reason (a halfling cannot change into an adult-sized elf, or an orc cannot change into a gnome, etc), add or detract hair, and they can change their age. It is a somewhat useful tool, but most would find its uses lackluster and useless on the grounds that the change is merely superficial. The enchantment can be activated or deactivated at the will of the wearer, and it can also be deactivated if the amulet is removed from one's person. Aside from this, the amulet looks rather ordinary.

Enchanted Flask-- A metal flask originally used for storing alcohol, this flask is used to turn any liquid into an elixir for his particular ailment. The flask's face has alchemical runes carved into it. Enchanting this flask was done with the combined alchemy ingredients and knowledge of enchanting, aided with magical theory. Though the flask cannot refill the contents, it can still purify the various liquids; however, this is useless to those who do not suffer from Thin Blood, and those who seek healthy hydration would suffer from thirst.

Dagger

Charcoal

Waterskin

Steed: Alastor-- a magical steed from the underworld, it appears as a skeletal horse consumed by lavender flame. Alastor is bound to Aramil through a magical pact and can be summoned whenever Aramil desires its assistance. The horse is quite faster than most and does not suffer from fatigue; though its existence in the Material Plane is limited to a full day.

Abilities
Thin Blood-- Though common among those of various racial ancestry, it is a rare blood disease in a new generation half-breed. Aramil is the first child sired by two different races (a human and an elf) within his respected families. As the name suggests, Aramil has thin blood coursing through his veins, making him weary and often times sick to the point of bedridden. There are times when his blood enters his lungs, putting him into a coughing fit and plagued with pneumonia, forcing him to cough up his own blood in the process. His heart has an irregular heartbeat and he is often at a high fever. This disease is neither contagious nor hereditary, merely a birth defect due to the differing physiologies of one's parentage. It is said that the disease drastically decreases the life expectancy of the mixed blooded offspring, often dying (if untreated) before their second decade.

Elven Sight-- As the offspring of an elf parent, Aramil can easily see at night as though it were merely sunset. Unfortunately, due to his illness, his eyesight is limited to human depth and distance.

Mark of Souls-- As a necromancer, Aramil possesses a mark that allows him to consume souls. This is a mimicry of a Lich's phylactery, only instead of putting one's soul into it, the Mark is bound to the mortal body and acts as a vessel for outside souls. It can only consume one soul a day, but it is enough for Aramil to not be plagued by the Thin Blood. The mark can be found beneath his glove on the back of his left hand; a small green emerald surrounded by a magic circle that was tattooed with enchanted green ink (which appears only when spellcasting).

Minimalism-- Not exactly an ability, but unlike most races and creatures, Aramil is a minimalist. A unique mindset, Aramil prefers to use very little tools at his disposal. Though a wizard with a vast repertoire spells, he prefers to conserve his energy for different approaches and is willing to use the more basic spells over the more complex spells. Aramil prefers talking his way out of a situation than to fight and is more than willing to surrender. This mindset also allows him an advantage over others, who much prefer to use everything they have in order to survive; his way of survival relies on solely on his wit and ingenuity.

Talents
Scholar-- Aramil is quite knowledgeable of magic and magical theory. Though he is not aware of the history of foreign continents, he is quite familiar with the history of his own province beyond the sea. He lusts for knowledge and he's quite unwilling to deter from his path once his mind is set on it. Ultimately, he is searching for the ultimate artifact that is said to be somewhere in the world, perhaps even beyond his homeland: the Book of the Dead Gods.

Alchemist-- Aramil is an expert alchemist, having grown up consistently sick. He had learned how to create potions and elixirs to increase his strength and halt his coughing fits for some time. Like most alchemists, he is able to create poisons and antidotes; a byproduct of his teachings.

Magician-- Despite his sickness, Aramil is a capable street performer of the more mundane "magic." Capable of deception and sleight-of-hand, Aramil can easily deceive or entertain those around him with petty tricks that have nothing to do with spellcasting. These include coin tricks, clever use of fireworks (including "smoke bombs"), illusory transpositions (pulling things from nowhere, but in reality from carefully hidden slots in articles of clothing, such as a hat), etc.

Perception-- Aramil is quite perceptive and difficult to deceive. After a life full of peril and betrayal, Aramil became cold and jaded. On top of this, he is able to deduce a person's weakness, whether it's a lie or a tight defense. Due to his perceptive nature, Aramil comes off as sly and clever, capable of using these insights to his advantage. He is also shown to be very careful when around something unusual and appears even more cautious around the usual (almost as if something seems too normal).

Diplomacy-- Despite being a necromancer, Aramil prefers diplomacy over combat. Capable of remaining civil and respectful, he places others on equal footing rather than using intimidation and allows enough room in negotiations for compromise. This is not to say he can't use intimidation to get favorable results (though he is quite subtle about such an approach), but he finds civil conversation far more preferable with less consequences regarding his overall health.

Polyglot-- As a scholar and wizard, it was a part of his lessons by his previous masters to learn certain languages, ranging from the mundane (elves, dwarves, halflings, etc) to the otherworldly (primarily devils and demons). As such, Aramil can speak in numerous tongues without the aid of magic to just about every conceivable race on this plane of existence (humans, elves (as well as drow), dwarves (and their cousins), halflings, gnomes, orcs, goblins, tieflings, and dragonkind) and to demons and devils; unfortunately, he cannot speak celestial nor druidic.

Magic
Necromancy-- Aramil is a prodigy of wizardry, greatly talented in the schools of abjuration and evocation; by extension, he is powerful in conjuration, as well, capable of summoning demons and other beings from beyond. As such, he chose necromancy as his specialty for its vast array of uses. Unlike most necromancers, Aramil chooses not to use this form of magic as a way to amass an army of corpses, but rather to pry from their lips (or lipless mouths) the many secrets that riddled their former lives. These secrets increase(d) his knowledge in military tactics and strategy, magical theory, and even the location of certain objects or the dangers that may lay ahead. The extent of his skill also lay in his spellcasting. He can taint his spells with necromantic energy, allowing him to siphon the vitality of others to heal himself (and to treat his sickness) or to cause necrosis alongside the burning, scorching, freezing, or crushing effects of certain spells. He is unable to wrench control of an undead if the will of the opposing necromancer (whether human (or some other living race) or Lich) is equal to his own or if the soul of the undead (i.e. revenant) rejects his commands due to an equal or stronger will. Unlike most magic, necromancy does not weaken him (in fact, it bolsters him) and the only weakness is his actual arcane spellcasting which drains his magical reserves (though the vitality (or souls) that he siphons exponentially increases his magical power). If Aramil casts too many spells or too powerful a spell, he would grow physically weak (even if he managed to siphon a soul or one's vitality) and will be overcome by his illness. If he survives, it is questionable when he would regain his strength and may even require the need of drugs to restore his health.

Backstory
Aramil's life was not a happy one. His mother an elf maiden who was caught and sold by slavers, given to the man who would later become his father. His father was a human nobleman, once hailed as a hero during the civil war that had consumed Yr. Aramil's father was a drunk and womanizer and had raped the elf maiden in a drunken stupor. After months (if not years), every night, Aramil was finally conceived. After his birth, his father was disgusted by the infant's appearance and felt that a man of his station should keep the child hidden away (though he had contemplated killing the child, but grew disgusted by the thought). Aramil was frail and sickly and was hidden in a dark room the majority of his childhood, only leaving the chamber to assist his mother and to serve his father. During the days that the nobleman showed signs of soberness, he was intrigued by Aramil's intelligence and demanded that he was educated. When the man was drunk, Aramil would be dragged out of his room and savagely beaten and verbally abused because of his frail nature. The latter happened far more often. Broken, bruised, and already too sick to leave his bed most days, Aramil did not know what a normal life was truly like. He was alone and his mother would often be missing during the nights his father was intoxicated.

However, the only person to visit him daily was the local cleric, a young woman acting as the church's apothecary. This young woman would help treat Aramil and provided him with a generous amount of medicine to help him grow strong enough to continue his studies. There were days where he would open up to her and speak to her about the things he learned and his desire to learn alchemy. They would often swap stories and she would laugh at his pranks he would perform on the other servants and slaves, and occasionally his father, during the times he felt strong and bold enough to leave his room. They eventually became friends and she would teach him about herbs and medicine. His aptitude to learn amazed her, for he would quickly grasp every lesson and hold onto her every word. After a while, he would ask her about the outside world, for he was never allowed to leave the manse, not even to play in the garden. Her stories enchanted him and his burning desire to explore grew greater. It was, perhaps, this inner strength that gave him courage and physical strength, the raw willpower, to prepare to leave the place he called home.

However, his hopes and dreams eventually shattered when his father, during his rare moments of sobriety, told him of his mother's death. She died from fever and the only thing she left him was an old heirloom, which was brought to him by a servant. He fell into a deep depression, his energy drained from his person and his sickness took hold of every aspect of his life thereafter. The beatings continued, even more frequently this time. Eventually, his father found himself face-to-face with the unhappy folk of the town, who revolted against his him. It was a swift execution and the manse was burned to the ground. Aramil miraculously survived, for serendipity was on his side; the young cleric who had aided him throughout the years led him out of the house, himself half-conscious of the events due to lack of medicine and the damage brought by the regular beatings. After regaining consciousness several days later, another tragedy had befallen poor Aramil-- the young woman died from the smoke of the flames days after the revolt. Orphaned and truly alone once more, Aramil was lost. He lived within the Church for a few months thereafter, cared for by the other clerics.

One day, minstrels arrived into the town, bringing with them many exotic animals and instruments. They performed for the folk of the town, performing tricks and concerts, releasing the tame beasts they had with them. Leading the group was a tall dark skinned man, thick with muscle and possessing tusks, by the name of Val Karna-- a half-orc whose appearance favored his human blood. Val Karna performed tricks and "miracles" to the citizens and it amazed the young Aramil. When the traveling band began to leave the village three days later, Aramil approached Val Karna and begged to be his apprentice, wanting to know magic. Val looked the youth up and down, and began to try and dissuade the youth, but Aramil remained stubborn and argued that he was an orphan with nowhere else to go. Aramil even pleaded, to the point where he was even willing to do all the difficult tasks and even scrounge around for his own herbs for his own medication. Val relented and agreed to take the young lad as a pupil.

Aramil traveled with the band for three years, and at the age of 15 he began to perform tricks with Val Karna, who had become like an elder brother to him. The two amazed the crowds and gathered enough money to buy their own tavern, a plan Val explained to Aramil amidst their travels. It was unfortunate, however, that Aramil would never get to see Val's dream become a reality, for after their final venture from a major city in the elven lands of Ranaamar, they were ambushed by bandits. Val and the group begged for Aramil to run away while they feebly fought the bandits, and Aramil could not comply out of fear. Everyone died, aside from the albino teen (who was taken by the bandits to be a potential profit in the land of Yr). After three days of travel, the bandits also hit their own roadblock-- they had stumbled upon the Tower of Tel'Arkana, an elven wizard of great renown. Tel'Arkana did not appreciate bandits and other vagabonds upon his territory, and these bandits were no exception. They swiftly lost their lives by the time the wizard hit the final step that led to the tower's entrance. Aramil had been catatonic and did not witness the demise of his captors; nor was he aware of the wizard taking him to the tower for rest and questioning.

It took months to restore the tragic child's mind, bringing Aramil back to the realm of reality. At first, Tel'Arkana was going to send Aramil on his way after restoring his health, but he thought better of it when he understood the albino's condition and situation. He was also amazed by Aramil's learning capabilities and intelligent observation after a single conversation. The elf wizard decided to take the young half-elf under his wing, making him his apprentice. Aramil learned at an alarming rate, a natural genius in regards to magic and magical theory. However, he seemed quite tempered for someone so young. Aramil lived with Tel'Arkana for 20 years. During the 19th year of his stay, Aramil grew interested in necromancy. Tel'Arkana grew furious at the very thought, so much so that he forbade the youth from ever researching it. Something snapped in Aramil, destroying whatever remained left of his innocence. Aramil did not appreciate being told "no" to a subject he must learn about, and thus he planned his master's death. He could never kill Tel'Arkana outright, for the elf wizard was physically and magically more powerful than the young albino. Thus, Aramil made a plan based upon his master's research and habits. It took nine months of obeying his master's command and making sure there was no break in Tel'Arkana's routine, and when his master went to sleep, Aramil went to the Laboratory, wherein lay the obsession of the elf wizard: a rare and undiscovered breed of spider, the White Fade Spider. Aramil knew better than to remove the spider from its glass barrier and to let it loose, so he borrowed a vial that rested upon rack beside the spider's prison. When his master awoke, Aramil greeted his master with tea, as he usually did. They both had a conversation regarding whether or not Tel'Arkana should hire servants to assist around the tower. Though normally perceptive, Tel'Arkana did not realize his fate, even 3 months later. The White Fade Spider's venom was unique in that it caused gradual memory loss that was so subtle that the victim would not realize it unless it was pointed out by a second person. Though in smaller animals, this memory loss would have been more effective in that in a matter of minutes or hours, the creature would die due to suffocation (the body and brain literally forgetting how to breathe); but in larger creatures, such as humans and elves, the venom took months. Tel'Arkana grew ill, and eventually worse. Aramil remained patient until his master lay on his bed for one last time, never to awaken.

Aramil took a small amount of wealth with him, on top of his master's research notes and journals. After four years of journeying alone, he eventually stumbled upon an old man in a hut in the swamplands of Szyr. This man was powerful and upon meeting Aramil, the two immediately struck a bargain: Aramil would apprentice under him and the old man can have Tel'Arkana's notes. Aramil benefitted due to the elderly man being a necromancer; one that was difficult to find and had taken him three years. The old man did not know, however, that Aramil had committed the notes to memory, tampered with them, and destroyed the majority of the research. Aramil lived with the old man for a much shorter time, only 5 years. Aramil grew smarter and wiser under this man's tutelage, which was much darker and sadistic than his previous master. However, Aramil understood necromancy for what it was and found better uses for it. This disappointed his master who lived and breathed for the idea of turning a corpse into a puppet for the mere pleasure of having the power over death. After a time, Aramil noticed his master leaving the hut much more frequently, which he took advantage of by reading the many notes and learning the wards' words of power. Aramil eventually learned all that he could and eventually decided to follow his master. The albino followed the old man to a hidden cave, following after him after five minutes of waiting. There, he saw despair.

Before him was a giant gate powered by a red orb. The portal seemed incomplete, but Aramil saw the shadow of what lay beyond it. His master was speaking to it, even referring to it as his "Master." Aramil knew well what was going on and he knew what lay beyond the gate was something of immense, if not god-like, power. Aramil listened to the conversation and realized that his master had been nurturing his talent in order to make him a sacrifice to feed the orbs power and to let loose a horror unlike any other unto the land. Rather than sit idly by, Aramil unleashed multiple spells towards the orb, damaging it. Stunned, his master could only watch Aramil with absolute horror. The creature beyond the gate would cry out in pain and agony, until the gateway dispersed altogether. A howling roar and an oath filled Aramil's ears: "You shall pay for this! I will hunt you to the ends of the planes!"

Aramil had no time to ponder the threat and merely ran back to the cottage, the drugs he had consumed were wearing off. He eventually made it to the hut, his master still far behind, and as he entered, Aramil deactivated the wards throughout the house and sought shelter in the furthest corner beneath his own layers of blankets. His master arrived and spoke, inadvertently, the activation words to his wards, believing Aramil to have turned them on upon entering and hiding. After all, his apprentice was too smart to leave the wards deactivated when there was an impending doom. The old man entered his own home and suffered the consequences, the entire hut exploding into a magnificent ball of fire, frost, and lightning.

After the self-destruction of his master and the hut, Aramil awoke hours later, battered and bruised. He no longer had his drugs to give him strength and his body ached with pain. After days of crawling out of the swamp, only eating the vermin that came by and siphoning the lives of carrion, Aramil fell unconscious. After a week, he awoke in the local church within a nearby town, with many medications that were used to restore his health on a side table by the bed. Aramil was submitted for questioning, where he recounted the events, yet omitting particular details. After seeing no need to keep him, the town guard and the church let Aramil go and rewarded him for the destruction of the necromancer. With nothing else for him, Aramil decided to travel the world in search of a particular item he had found in the old necromancer's notes: the Book of the Dead Gods, his possible salvation and darkest goal.

Starting Location: Actium
[CHAR] Blood, Riches and Glory: Ghosts of Iron Coast

Frengo King of the Frengolians

swampogreknight Da Realest
