---

NAME: Pigeon

ABSTRACT: The Snare With No Opinion

DETAIL:
Pigeon's mother knew six months into the pregnancy that her baby would not be human. The horns that pricked her belly from the inside were telltale enough without doctors handing her pamphlets on surveillance and separation. By the time the child was born, the mother had accepted the death of her hope for a human baby; she instead did her best to raise this Snare to the specifications of the government.

Pigeon never tried to be like other children -- she saw them as completely separate species. Instead, she spent her time drawing, tending houseplants, and obediently doing the chores she was given to do. She had always been prepared for her tenth birthday, when she went with the guardians easily and without question. Even when she was told to lie in the coffin, she made sure to lie as still as possible while the lid was shut, knowing well that she would never grow old.

NAME: Romulus "Salacious" Wisher

ABSTRACT: Mad Actor Tainted by Evil

DETAIL: Romulus was raised in a well adjusted middle class family. His father worked hard, his mother and siblings all loved one another and everything was generally GOOD. Romulus had a mind for the fantastic from an early age, and especially loved the stories told in local taverns. Whenever the troubador or traveling actors troupe would stop by his home village he was front and center, eyes affixed to the stage. And so he decided to abandon a life of toil in agricultural work and fled for the nearby city of Rock Bridge when he was 12 years old.

In Rock Bridge, Romulus quickly fell in with an acting company doing small jobs around the theatre for free. He learned what he could and over the years ingratiated himself enough with the company to actually get some stage time. He made a little money, bought a few books, borrowed some manuscripts and plays, and taught himself the trade. He flourished under the guidance of various actors; Romulus soon began to realize his silver tongue could win over not just audiences, but individuals, and that gave him power to manipulate and control. Romulus flourished first in Rock Bridge, and then the larger cities in the kingdom.

Taking the stage name Wisher, Romulus gained notoriety performing one-man versions of popular plays of the time, some scandulous, some political satire that landed him in hot water for a time. He wrote a few plays himself but nothing ever caught on. He peaked and began to fade as new acts made the rounds and his name was slowly forgotten...At age 28 Romulus had hit rock bottom. He decided to travel.

He traveled for many years, to distant lands and places. He drank, he fought and loved. He killed once, but in self-defense. He disappeared. He returned once to Rock Bridge but all of his old friends were dead or in prison and the old theatre had long ago burned to the ground. He searched for his home village, but could not remember what it was called. He traveled for many more years.

At the edge of a forest, near a mountain peaked with grey snow, Romulus fell into a pit one night. Fumbling around in the darkness, clothing in tatters, grey beard and withered soul, Romulus found a door. It was very old, covered in runes around the molding. The old oak beams had long ago been smashed in, and this revealed a tunnel. Romulus entered the darkness.

He awoke later, near a town he remembered passing a few days prior, his clothes were still ragged, his beard and hair thin and matted. But his soul...felt...young again. He found in his possession a small black book containing a play he had never heard of before called The **** and ***** of *****. It was a very thin book, of common print paper. No author listed, no publisher. The first page simply began: ACT I, Scene I.

The play so enthralled Romulus he read it cover to cover wandering around the small town. Every line a masterpiece. Every scene perfection. Each character seemed to speak to him personally, pulling some misunderstood fragment of his own strange life to the foreground, revealing for him the truths those pieces truly held. He became enamored of the piece and could not wait to reveal the genius hereto within contained to a new audience.

He found himself at the local tavern and suggested to the barkeep he give a read of a masterful new play he had written for a drink or two (...I was an actor once you know...long ago..). The bar keep agreed and the townsfolk gathered around the fire and this strange old man who wanted to entertain them for the evening.

And so Romulus began. He poured his heart into that play. Each line, each refrain. Romulus had read it only once, could feel the heart of the story in his tongue, his bony fingers. His soul laid bare for those strangers for an hour, maybe six. He began to wheeze and cough. His mouth was dry. His throat burning with the fire of the sun; And then he was finished, panting, laying prone on the floor. Coughs shook his body. And there was.....silence. The townsfolk began to murmur. "Get on with it you crazy bastard..."

Months went by. Each time Romulus attempted to perform the strange play it was as if the audience heard not a word. Furthermore, he discovered the time it took (about 2 1/2 hours) to recite the damn thing seemed to not exist. At least not for the audience. Whenever Romulus attempted to talk to someone about the play, even mention the title they seemed to not understand, or act as if he had not been talking. It was as if Romulus was the only person in the world who knew of it's existence, or ever would.

And it destroyed him. It was not long before drink and anger, sadness and disparity began to tear the mans psyche to pieces. His infatuation for the play only deepened, only widened the gulf between reality and himself. He got violent. Really violent. He was caught during the third one. Imprisoned. Sentenced. Sent to the Stone.

But he managed to hold onto the book...

Adamar

"I will not repent. I will survive."

At 5'10", Adamar's lack of height is made up for by his eerie presence. All of his body is obscured by robes and gauze except for his face, which is guarded by a blank mask of bronze. His build is impossible to discern underneath all of his heavy clothing.

Age
28
Sex
Male

Personality
Neutral Evil
Adamar is by no means cruel, sinister, or diabolic. He is called evil by others mostly because of the nature of his existence. Adamar was fully aware of the blasphemy of his eventual transformation into an undead creature. However, he seeks no atonement for his actions. Outside of being a neutral voice in the matters of his companions, he cares not for their well-being. Adamar only seeks to preserve his own unlife, and will gladly do so even if it requires the expense of allies. However, those who he deems highly useful will see an equal amount of utility from him towards their efforts.

Biography / History
Adamar was a court witch for the king of the realm he lived in. However, his king was by no means benevolent. An oppressive tyrant, his majesty set only the highest taxes upon his subjects, and ordered the beheading of all that opposed him. Adamar was smart enough to not deny any demand made of him, which for the most part was simply to impart knowledge and advice of the supernatural, enchant items, or entertain with visually appealing spells. Occasionally, more specific needs were called for, but for the most part Adamar lived rather well by serving his king, despite being a witch.

One day, his majesty called Adamar for a very unique request. Upon his arrival, Adamar learned of the king's desires for immorality, so that he might rule the lands for the rest of time. Such a tall order required years of research, practice and preparation. This was a condition that Adamar make very clear before getting to work.

Eventually, Adamar was ready. He approached his majesty in private to inform him of his progress, and arranged a time to perform the ritual. In a horrible turn of events, the ritual failed, and the king was now dead. Fearing for his own life, Adamar decided to try the ritual himself, so that he may survive any repercussions with a well-hidden phylactery.After several hours of careful incantation, Adamar had completed the ritual correctly upon himself. Although the process itself would take years to fully mature, he had given himself a safety-net of sorts. In the event that he did die, he would one day rise as a lich.

Unfortunately, before he could escape to recluse, he was captured by the royal guard. He was not afraid of execution, hiding the fact that he would one day rise again from the kingdom's remaining government. However, to his dismay, he was instead sent to The Stone. To them, it was simply a fate crueler than death. To Adamar, it meant a literal eternity locked in the horrid dungeon, instead of passing from age or disease, or being slain by some monster.

Name: Carnifex

Abstract: "I am the monster that other monsters fear."

Details: Not much is known about Carnifex, his real name is *CLASSIFIED*, the name Carnifex was given to him by the government to show the public what he is, a butcher of people. All that is known about him is that he is of 24 years of age, about 6'0 tall with red hair, blue eyes and a strange tattoo on his back. He was sent to the Stone on 87 counts of murder, and that's only the ones they could prove. The real number is estimated to be anywhere between 120 to *CLASSIFIED* men, women and children. The only reason they found the 87 victims is because he allowed them to. He is also rumoured to be the member of a cult that worships an Old God called *CLASSIFIED*. When sent to the Stone, killed 3 more men who were guarding him, and only through use of severe force did they get him into the coffin.

NAME: Mira

ABSTRACT: A desperate young woman who made a deal with a demon

DETAIL:
Everyone in the city has their own story, their own suspicions on why Mira was sent to the Stone. Some say she used forbidden magic to cure her mother who was suffering from a terrible disease. She was beyond saving, the best doctors in the city could do nothing for her. Even the traditional methods Mira and her relatives used had failed. Desperate to save her mother they suspect she took matters into her own hands. In the shroud of night she dissappeared into some far off corner of the city to commune with an unholy entity of a time long forgotten.

NAME: Genevieve Vivian Diaval

NICKNAME/ALIAS: Jeanie, Henrietta, Evie

ABSTRACT: She can make your dreams and nightmares a reality.

AGE: She was thirteen when she was put into the stone. But now she is physically around nineteen.

GENDER: Female

SNARE ABILITY: Her ability pertains to dreams and illusion. She can enter and control other peoples dreams when they are asleep. There is no sense of time inside the dream world, so leaving others dreams only happens when the person wakes up, she can hop into someone else's dream, or somebody shakes Jeanie back to reality. Inside the dream world she can control and create everything she can imagine. Outside the dreamworld and back in the reality she can only create illusions. Her mother liked to call them hallucination and daydreams. These illusions are similar to holograms, as they are harmless and intangible, but look solid and real. Jeanie can see your dreams, nightmares, and sometime even abstract, or forgotten memories.

HISOTRY:
Genevieve parents Leda Orson, and Henry Diaval met in Mapleton City. Her mother was a performer for a traveling theater troupe called Raven's Rave Theater. Her father was the newest to join the crew. The troupe was in truth a guise for a Snare and Magic rights extremist organization, that both her parents were devoted to even before Genevieve was born. The troupe traveled around preforming, all the while secretly helping harbor and relocate Snares and magic users. They also left a string of crimes all pertaining to their rather extreme activism ideals like, burning down government buildings, braking Snares out of the labs, and threatening officials.

Two years before Genevieve was born the troupe was almost caught, so they had to dial down the criminal acts and stick to peaceful protests and handing out informative flyers, till the government got off there back. Her mother only found out she was pregnant when she was already seven months along. Henry immediately proposed to Leda and they were going to get married in a month. But a week before the wedding Jeanie born. She was a whole month early, and a beautiful wee little thing. Unfortunately Genevieve was born a Snare, so the midwife who was helping with the birth, left in repulsion after seeing the newborns glowing yellow eyes. The midwife ran off to report the birth of a Snare to the officials.

Henry quickly wrapped little Genevieve up in a blanket, handed Leda their newborn, and went after the midwife to stop her from reporting. Thing quickly got out of hand, and Henry accidentally murdered the old hag when trying to keep her quite. Two weeks pasted, and the police had him in multiple time for questioning. He slowly decided to turn himself in because he knew that it was only a matter of time until the police had enough evidence. He didn't want his family to always have to be on the run. So with a heartbreaking goodbye Henry left Leda and Jeanie under the care of the troupe, and was sentenced to 15 years in prison.

Genevieve's tiny horns started growing in when she was six months old. Her yellow eyes glowed in the dark like a cats, and when her teeth came in the pair of sharp canines followed. Leda wanted Jeanie to have a happy normal life, but she knew all to well about the persecution, and unjust laws that came with being a Snare. She didn't want to lose her only daughter to the stone when she turned 10, all because she was born different. After much deliberation among Leda and the troupe, they decided that the best why for Genevieve to lead a normal life in this unfair world, was to make her appear fully human. Irene, one of the founding members of the troupe, was a witch, and was able to create a potion that changed someones eye color to brown. Uprooting a Snare's horns was an illegal surgery, but after three years of searching Leda finally found a willing doctor to do it for a fee, he even shaved down Jeanie's canines.

As long as the light didn't catch Genevieve's eyes in such as way to make them shine, she looked as normal as any other child walking down the street. The scars from where her horns once were healed nicely, and hid perfectly under her hair. By the time Jeanie was five, she and her mother had left the troupe for a safer life in Rock Bridge city. Leda got a job at flower shop, and also preformed at the local theater. They lived above the flower shop where they rented a room. Jeanie went to school, spent her days playing with the other children around the city. She liked to help her mother at the theater. It was happy and no one suspected anything.

She was seven years old when her Snare powers started manifesting. After going to sleep, she would find herself in other peoples dreams, and nightmares. Not that she or her mother knew that they were other peoples dreams. She became terrified of going to sleep for fear of the nightmares and monsters that seemed to be waiting for her when she closed her eyes. Then one night Jeanie entered her mothers dream. The next morning she told her mother about the whole thing. Overtime her powers became stronger, and she learned to control parts of the dreamworld. Unfortunately, entering the dreams of others was still terrifying to Jeanie, so she would try and stay awake for days on end. Leda had to start putting a sleeping drought in Jeanie's dinner.

She was only seven and keeping the secret that she was a Snare was already hard enough, but now anytime she was around someone she had to make sure she didn't mention anything about their personal dreams she had seen. Life kept on moving, and Jeanie's became weaker and weaker as she only slept a little as she could. Her teacher sent her home one multiple occasions for fainting spells, and passing out at her desk. Leda decided that school was not the safest place for Jeanie to be anymore, so she pulled her out. Genevieve spent her days with her mother at the flower shop and around the theater. Dark circles under her eyes, and low energy became a constant.

Due to the extreme lack of sleep and the typical rainy weather that was Rock Bridge city, it was only a mater of time before Jeanie got sick. She contracted pneumonia and a horrible fever. Her mother called for the doctor, and during the examination the doc discovered that Genevieve was truly a undocumented Snare. He gave her medication, and then told Leda that he would have to report her and Jeanie. After he left, Leda quickly packed a bag with their essential, and took out the emergency money, and the forged identity papers she had hidden under the floor broads. They ran.

They ended up at a old inn, just a days journey from the border. Jeanie was to sick to keep going, and Leda felt safe enough at last. Three weeks later Genevieve was finally well again. Leda had procured a job at the Inn as a barmaid and was payed with free room and bored. Genevieve, now went by the name Henrietta, and her mother was called Lynda. This was to be their life now. During her time being sick and mostly asleep, she had found that she could control what happened inside the dreamworld. This made it much easier for her to sleep, as she could just turn the nightmares into fairytales.

When she was nearing nine years old,Raven's Rave Theater came to the nearby village. Her mother reunited with her old friends and colleges. They were all happy to see Jeanie doing well. Irene even helped Genevieve learn more about her abilities and how to control them safely. They ended up leaving the Inn, to travel with the troupe. It was a different world to Jeanie, living in the caravans, traveling from place to place, and eating outside around a fire. Her favorite thing was that everyone in the troupe knew her secret and didn't care that she was a Snare. Leda had always been over protective and slightly paranoid that everyone was out to get Jeanie and lock her in the Stone, but among the troupe she seemed happier, so Jeanie was too.

The next three years was spent traveling around the kingdoms with the troupe. She even began singing in some of the little musicals. She loved to explore all the new cities and towns they came across. The whole group became like a big family to her. She would help Irene cook up potions. She would help paint sets with Bruce and Tomlin. She would stitch up costumes with her mother, and Harriet. She ran around helping Vaughn, Greta, and Dexter with the backstage work and shopping. Nights after the shows, were spent dancing and singing around the campfire till late. She helped with the morning puppet shows, and told stories to the townie children.

Sadly good things can't last. The troupe was traveling through the borderland to get to a city called Ballorie. The famous festival of arts was being held there this year, and the troupe never missed it. They had been preforming at the little villages along the way, but it had been a week since they passed the last town, so they were out of food, and needed to stop to hunt and rest. Camp was set up just off the forest road. Genevieve snuck off to explore the forest as she always did, instead of helping Harriet and Greta cook. Near midnight she was climbing a tree next to the river far off from the camp. But even from the distance she could hear the screaming coming from the direction of camp. She ran as fast as she could to see what was wrong. Just as she reached the edged of the camp a raider man grabbed her from behind.

She struggled to get free, but all she could do was watch as they raided the caravans, and wagons and her group tried to fight them off. Irene used her witch magic, but after taking two of the raiders out she became depleted and fell to the ground. Her mother, Harriet, and Greta, were already captured and tied to a tree. Tomlin and Bruce did the best they could, but were quickly slaughtered by the much stronger raiders. They raiders burned the wagons, after stealing anything of value, they took horses, and shouted and laughed as they talked about selling the woman to slavers.

In a rage Genevieve unconsciously used her illusion ability, creating a nightmarish swarm of monster bats that surrounded one of the raiders as if attacking. He ran screaming, and impaled himself on a tree branch. Jeanie's eyes turned back into there original yellow color as the witch potion that made her eyes appear brown burned out of her system. The raiders took her for a Snare, and in a matter of seconds knocked her to the ground and barbarically slit her throat. She could hear her mother screaming as Jeanie laid in the dirt bleeding to death. Her mothers cries sounded further and further away, as the raiders road of with there haul and the girls.

The fire and ash of the caravans, and Bruce and Tomlin dead bodies were the only things left other then unconscious Irene and the dying Genevieve. Irene using the last of her magi, and was able to save Jeanie from bleeding to death at the cost of her own life. Genevieve awoke to the noon sun shining down through the forest canopy. The smell of cinders and blood, was accompanied by the cheery tweeting of birds in the tree above. She would never see her mother again.

Over the next year and a half she lived on her own, and survived, her only thoughts were ones of revenge and finding her mother and the others alive. The raiders had been apart of the Falcon clan, and so began Jeanie's falcon hunt. She killed seven Falcon clan raiders before she was caught by the police. Her eye gave her away as a Snare, and after finding the scars on her scalp from where her horns once were she was immediately sent to the Stone.

During her time in stasis she had been living within the dreams and nightmares of the people in the coffins. Jumping from dream to dream with in the criminal minds of the stone was not something for the faint of heart. She was only thirteen when she entered the Stone. Now she is nineteen, and a little unbalanced. She still has the scars on her neck from when the raiders attacked.

---

NAME: Havon Young Dersi

ABSTRACT: "The boy has... Vivid Nightmares."

DETAIL:

-Age
-17

-Appearance:
-5'7
-96 lbs
-Heavily Scarred Wrists
-Tired Eyes

-Charge(s)
-One count: Attempted Summoning of Elder God

-Full Testimonial Transcript:
-I. Interrogator
-H. Havon

Name: Thadeus Aldor

Abstract: “The darkness sees through my eyes, and through the darkness i see beyond reality”

Age: 34

Gender: Male

Appearance: Black hair that rests slightly below his shoulders, scruffy beard and hazel eyes. he is 5'7 tall with a decent build, his outfits vary a lot but he always wears a very dark purple, almost black cloak.

History: Somewhere, far away from our mortal grasp, beyond the planes of life and death in a realm where nothing should be allowed to live. It watches, some call it The eye of the abyss, The Spectator, or simply The seer, his true Name unknown to all. An aberration, a mass of tentacles, mouths and eyeballs looking from side to side, darting in every direction staring into the abyss, and on top of it, one massive eye.

Many fools dabble in the matters of the abyss, striking deals with Old gods for power, witches, warlocks and all sorts of people dedicate their lives for the powers that the fiends from the darkness part with them, secrets and whispers of corrupting nature. Thadeus was not one them, in truth, he never meant to deal with the Old ones, but The seer had plans, it always does. And it required a servant, someone to use, manipulate, someone to help enact his plans in the mortal realms, away from his grasp, but within his sight.

Thadeus was in ways, a victim of circumstance, caught in a violent storm as he was traveling, the wagon was flung and dragged by the storm and down a mountain, breaking and ending with him lying on the floor, gashes open by wooden beams, bleeding profusely as his life began drifting away, and then, a sound pierced into his mind, like a chorus of distorted voices and howls it spoke.

“Pathetic, is this how you wish to go..? Dead before your time in a simple accident, taken by chance?”

Thadeus’s eyes darted trying to find a source, and looking at his situation, pain flooded through his body and he heard the howls of pain of the others that were in the wagon, to his side he could see the rider, dead, a pool of blood underneath an armless body. the voice spoke again

“I can change that.. I can give you another chance..in exchange of course.. A favour.. worry not about details.. “

He could feel his consciousness begin to waver, he was bleeding too much, he would be dead soon, but he felt something else, a presence, embracing him an odd, cold feeling that seemed to push against his flesh like invisible tendrils poking and prodding at the gashes and cuts in his skin.

“Embrace my mark.. or become.. history”
Something primal acted within him, he didn’t care what he would have to do, who this voice was, he just wanted to live, survival, he accepted, embracing the cold, allowing it to surround him and seep in from the cuts in his flesh. before he fell unconscious once more, the last thing he heard was the voice, laughing.

---

He woke up at night, healed from all wounds and etched in the flesh of his chest, a mark, an eye surrounded by five tendrils curving in weird patterns. Thadeus began making his way towards the nearest village, hiding the mark and using what he gathered from the wreckage he spent several nights at an inn, and in his dreams, The seer talked to him

he drifted in an endless void, looking into an abyss and from the distance he heard it, stronger then when he was dying, a chorus, hundreds of voices speaking in perfect synchrony, echoing in nothingness. It told Thadeus that it was a vessel for it’s power now, an anchor of it’s existence within the material realm, and as such he would be able to tap into it’s magic, almost as a gift, but it reminded him, that when the time comes for the favour to be turned in, he will obey and disobedience will be punished with a fate worse than death.

With time, Thadeus grew accustomed to the magic of The seer, he could tap into it to shift reality, change it in slight ways, take images from his mind, his thought, his predictions of the future, and blend them with existence, he became a wandering merchant as a facade for his true source of income, in a way he was a fortune teller, most thought him a warlock, hired by those that mind nor the payment nor the illegality of the matter. He would ask them what they wished, and tip the scales of fortune in their sides, blending predictions of health and fortune from his mind into their future. Small things, bits and bobs spread through their years, that would eventually lead to something bigger. Or for those that had smaller requests, like the location of treasure or love, he would blend in his own creations with their path.

Quickly he acquired fame, something that for those meddling in magic is not a good thing. He eventually got caught by the guards, even through his magical attempts to stay away from their attention his popularity grew to much. He eventually was found and arrested, charged with wizardry and taken to the Stone, he has yet to be summoned by The seer, but unknown to him, that time comes near

Excerpt: This marks the final straw! Father's business has been shut down by the government. Why? Because of "concerns with safety of your devices" they said. Nonsense! Our projects are state of the art! It has to be the works of Venitech. Those bastards have got to have the right people in their pocket. They're the only ones still in business after this. There's nothing we can do about it! Nothing! I hate this. This is all their fault. I have to do something.

DAMN IT! I know Father didn't want me to do this, but I'm finished with them. Father, if you ever see this, I'm sorry.

Rain



Subject confessed to following crimes:
Destruction of the government steamship Anne Marie resulting in the deaths of Senator Victor Marts and crew
Sabotage of Government Facilities with the assistance of unknown entities
Attempted assassination of Paul Tykes, owner and founder of Venitech
Vandalism

Subject refuses to name any conspirators in spite of all coercion.

FINAL JUDGEMENT
To Be Condemned to the Stone

Amuné by verdenda of Subeta

Name: Amuné Ris

Abstract: a frightened child with a troublesome gift

Appearance: Only eight years old, Amuné is a slight child, more angles than baby fat. She has wide gray eyes and short mousy brown hair. Her clothes are not in the best condition, stained and torn in places. At the moment she is extremely shy and wary of others, scaring easily. Her constant companion is a battered kitten doll that she will not leave behind without a fight. There’s something odd about her, but it’s hard to determine what.

Details: Amuné is the child of a Rover who settled down with a village midwife and healer. She was a strange girl even as a babe, though she didn’t register on the snare screening, as she lacked any visible traits. But she was indeed a snare, and one with an unusual gift. Past, present, and future: a Seer with training can glimpse them all, learning from what has come before and predicting what lies ahead. Amuné did not receive any training, however, and even when her father realized what was going on, he cautioned her to keep it secret, and do her best to avoid visions. Despite her efforts, the girl was not able to prevent them completely, nor was she able to keep from describing them aloud with total success. As a result she was viewed as a queer child, and ended up having only a few good friends.

Her mother was unnerved as well, mostly because she tended to notice primarily how Amuné’s moods frequently reflected downward turns in illnesses or stillborn children before the fact. It didn’t become a serious issue until the child’s seventh year, however, when her baby brother became quite ill. The girl did everything she could to help, as she adored her brother, and was really worried about him. Her mother saw it instead as an omen of disaster, and made use of forbidden arts to ensure the boy would recover. The healer was able to cure her sick son, but it came at a price. She was corrupted by the bargain, and became host to a lesser minion of one of the old gods.

Amuné could tell something had changed in her mother, but not what. However, the creature viewed the child and her ability as a threat. It didn’t take too much persuasion to turn the woman against the young Seer. She’d never been comfortable with the girl’s strange moods and odd fits that didn’t have any evident source. She was a superstitious woman even at the best of times, and the darkness riding her took advantage of that, twisting her to its own ends. Then both she and it turned their attention to the rest of the town. They played upon emotions and fears, sowing anger and doubt. Over time, they convinced the townsfolk that there was something wrong with the girl, that she was a snare that had somehow gone undetected, or more likely a witch, and her fits were evidence of her evil power, that the things she said that were out of place but oddly insightful or foreboding in hindsight were actually times when she used magic to bring disaster. Eventually woman and creature were able to goad a number of the citizens into action.

Things didn’t go the way anyone expected. A cruel twist of fate hit the child with a vision during the confrontation, and her words were taken as a curse. The ensuing chaos left flames spreading through the village, destroying houses and claiming lives. The local guard intervened before Amuné was killed by the enraged mob, but not soon enough to keep her father from dying in an attempt to protect her. Nor did the girl escape so easily; she was judged guilty and sentenced to the Stone.

Songs:
Unlimited Sky, Tommy Heavenly6
Lacrimosa, Kalafina
Prototype, Chiaki Ishikawa (short version; can't find the long one)

NAME: Vin Holga-Therrin

ABSTRACT: 'To right all wrongs with blood and gunpowder'

AGE: 29

APPEARANCE: Vin has fairly average height, with a strong build, scars dot his skin from wounds in his years as a mercenary, and his back still holds the carvings of so many whippings. His hair is a dark brown and kept short, his left eye is hazel, his other eye, usually hidden by an eye patch that was taken away alongside his possessions when he was taken to the stone. it's skin is deformed by burn marks and around it is a pitch black symbol burned into it of a crescent moon surrounding part of it, with spikes crossing through it pointing inwards.

BIO: It's quite ironic how little Vin actually remembers of his own parents, Leonard Holga and Monique Therrin, they were simple folk, a lumberjack who spent most of his time away and a housekeeper, working themselves to the bone to provide for him and his two sisters. doing what was necessary to keep bread at the table, but still, they always found a way to keep themselves smiling. from the family meals on days when Leonard wasn't out on work expeditions, to the shenanigans they did lead by Helena, his older sister, with other kids from the slums they lived in. Life wasn't easy, but it was worth living. Sadly, it seems fate had decided Vin's life was still to good. And so, Leonard sunk into debt with some very dangerous people. He never did find out how his dad lost that much money.. The debt collectors sent by local mobsters came, and not even all of their possessions could maintain the cost. but they had a job to keep, and they wouldn't leave without their worth.

Vin still remembers their faces so vividly.

The one that dragged him away, as he kicked and screamed begging to be left with his parents, that man was smiling, a disgusting crooked smile. Vin could hear the crying, pleading, and his father trying in vain to fight, but the last thing he remembers was the other collector kicking his father away, and slamming the door shut behind them. It wasn't long before they came to take him away from the cell he was being kept in, someone had bid, and Vin had been sold like livestock. dragged through roads and paths underneath the city, through sewers, he was eventually brought up and thrown onto the back of a carriage alongside five others like him, chained to each other and to the floor. the only sounds he heard that trip where hooves, wheels and wails.

Their expressions were horrifying, their eyes empty, as if they had been reduced to shells, their souls curled somewhere within, crying. they were broken.

Seven years it took, it's surprising he didn't snap during those years. daily whippings at the slightest sight of disobedience. inhumane conditions and shoddy housings, truly, they were nothing but bulls being used to power their machines, livestock to be kept only surviving, nothing more then enough to get the job done. Many times He had wished for death, but humans where expensive, and his owner had enough money to keep all his slaves alive. Vin wasn't free even within his dreams, every memory he cherished, his parents and friends, his home, his mothers cooking, freedom. they were all dangled in front of him upon his dreams, only to be engulfed by the fog, a dark grey mist he learned to hate with the years. washing them away, leaving him alone, stranded on an endless ocean, looking down at moon reflected upon those crystalline waters.

It was so Beautiful..

Eventually, the dreams all ended the same way, taken by something deep within, he jumped into that clear ocean. letting himself sink and be taken, embracing it happily, feeling his lungs fill up with cold, only to be dragged away from death. forced to live another day.

In the seventh year, luck seemed to have gotten rid of whatever grudge it had towards Vin. a fire started in one of the fields, spreading rapidly, amidst the chaos, him and a few other slaves managed to escape, running into the woods nearby. two of the six that escaped where caught and executed, but the other four managed to make their ways. Vin doesn't actually know what happened to the others afterwards, sometimes he wonders if they're okay. In the next two years, Vin slowly got used to society again, he found his way to a town, and ended up a beggar, to unstable for a job, his dreams were still haunted. but with time the trauma of his past became suppressible as the realization that he was finally free caught up to him. he got a job at a smith, and made a living with it, spending the next three months searching for clues as to his relatives whereabouts.

the news finally came from a town hall worker.

apparently his father was found murdered, not long after the slaves escaped, as well as the relatives of the others, and his mother and sister missing. a letter was left in the scene. It stated quite simply, that as payment for 'lost goods' as Vin had ran, his relatives were to be sold in his place, his father most likely died trying to save them..

His dreams where haunted once more.

Vin could no longer allow himself to do nothing, something ignited within him. at first, he wanted nothing but to resume some form of normal life, to reunite with family, to make due the lost years. that had been taken away from him, just like all this time of his life. He could not make amend those wrongs anymore, so there was nothing left but revenge. He was taken by a mercenary's life, finding jobs wherever he could, from guarding to looting, he trained with a pistol, as the urge for vengeance slowly grew within him, taking more and more of his time. He was 26 when he finally snapped, he was obsessed at this point, he was at his limit. and desperate, he called out for help.

He got his answer.

His dream that night was different.

There was no good part, no smell of stew and he did not hear his sisters voice. All he felt was pain, memories of his years in slavery, of his time begging, the sense of despair and terror as he hid from the guards in the forest. the fog did not come, for it was already here, not to wash away his memories, but to take him. eventually, he felt nothing, and the fog that enveloped him pulled back, slowly sinking into the waters below. Vin looked at he moon, but it was different, a red tint covered it as it tilted in it's crescent form, it was almost like a smile, with two crimson stars as its eyes

the smile grew, and in the water he saw faces, he couldn't make them out properly, but he felt rage, a primal burning rage directed towards them. he didn't see them, but he knew who they where. those who had put him in this situation. he jumped, this time, not seeking the embrace of the ocean, but lunging in a bling fury, a single desire resonating within his mind.

Vengeance

But they faded away, and he began sinking, but this time, he didn't want to die, he couldn't die, not until he could see those faces scream. and so he swam up for the first time, climbing back onto the tiny ship floating upon the water. The smile was no longer in the ocean, it lay in the sky, surrounded by the fog, looking down at him, and Vin could feel it's presence, resting on his knees he looked up, staring at it's eyes.

"I can lead you to what you seek"the voice echoed, waiting for no answer.

"Those who shattered your soul, deserve punishment beyond death. i can bring them that"

The fog grew closer, no longer seeming as the moon, the smile was jagged and made of a crimson light. Vin stared, he didn't want to speak, he didn't have to, he could feel the presence gazing into his very soul.

"I will bring you power, and all I ask in return, is the souls of those that taint this world"
It grew ever closer

"Sacrifice them to me, and i will make sure they suffer in eternity. is that not what you wish for, to right those wrongs?"
the mass of thick smoke was almost touching Vin now, and he was smiling, a jagged smile.

"Then Let us bring vengeance to all".
The glowing mouth of the spirit opened, it's sharp teeth allowing enough space for Vin to see a single bullet, engraved with runes that seemed to bleed, dripping onto the ocean below, engraved onto the side of it was his name.

"Do you accept my offer?"
As those words were spoken, he noticed the gun in his hand, something within him was screaming at him not to do whatever this creature's biding was, but his rage spoke to loud. guided by the oppressive presence above him, Vin loaded the bullet onto the weapon, and bringing it to his head, pulled the trigger. a terrifying laugh was the last thing he heard. Vin woke up with a scorching pain on his right eye, clutching it he rushed to the nearest mirror, were he saw, burnt into the skin, pitch black around the eye was an odd symbol, resembling a crescent moon crossed by spikes, it had been completely blinded.

Doing mercenary work, It didn't take long until he found out what that eye did, it seemed to have a mind of it's on somewhat, seeing only when a life is in play, but seeing beyond the human eye. almost as if the eye saw it's target as prey, a soul to be sent to the god of vengeance. he could see it from far away, through walls and obstacles, standing out like a sore thumb, glowing. the eye seemed to aim almost as if perfectly targeting it.

Vin realized what he'd become. A Hunter.

And so he hunted, always looking for info on the whereabouts of his old slaver, eventually, a mission went awry, and the eye wasn't enough to help him. hauled of to the stone, his last thoughts, where the realization, he would never have his vengeance.