Name:
Casper

Other Names:
Formerly known as:
Asad - Assassin
Athus - Assassin
Luke - Wanderer
Oreon - Freelancer
Vath - Mercenary

Real Name:
Asad Shari

Occupation:
Servant, Keeper of the Armory
Previously Assassin
Previously Wanderer
Previously Freelancer
Previously Mercenary

Place Of Origin:
Egypt

Age:
14 (128)

Affiliation:
True Neutral

Throughout his many years, Casper has grown rather jaded towards the conflicts of life. He acts through an objective point of view and doesn't bother to involve himself with issues that do not concern him. Indeed, Casper is not without emotion, however he keeps a calm stance and acts through logic and perception rather than emotional fury. What does not concern him does not require him.

Appearance:
Scrawny, frail and fragile. Casper's a short and visibly weak boy who wouldn’t pose much of a threat, was he not a vampire. He seems to be on constant guard, his large red eyes ever vigilant for an impending ambush and he often keeps something in his hands. A book pressed against his chest, his fingers wrapped around the strap of his shoulder bag or fiddling with his hands are common sights.

His black hair would be considered rather long and thick, bangs falling over his forehead and covers his eyes unless kept out of the way. He doesn’t possess any notable scars or additions to his body, but possesses a single tattoo acquired during his embrace of darkness, when he was turned into a Lamia. It can be found on the right side of his chest. Due to the boy's Egyptian heritage, he possesses olive skin unseen on most within Camelot's walls.

His ribs are rather visible and ‘you need to eat more’ is common to hear. Despite an otherwise reserved demeanor, he doesn’t seem to have much of a problem with his body. It’s not much to look at, and the scrawny nature is certainly nothing held in high regard. It could be assumed that there are little to no visible muscles stretching out across his frame, leaving a set of plain limbs stretching out from his torso.

Fitting his frame, Casper possesses a quiet but light voice. As he speaks in somewhat silence, it can be hard to hear his words and he doesn't like repeating himself too often. He has however learned that it's often necessary.

Casper treads with care, his eyes trailing the floor as he walks. Some people has stated that his big eyes are rather 'cute', and some has stretched it out to his whole being as 'cute'. It could also be argued that eyes seem bigger the smaller you are. Most would however simply call him a freak due to their color.

With light footsteps, it can sometimes be hard to hear him due to his size and weight. Standing at a meager 5'0" feet, he knows his limitations but has quite a fiery side to him towards those who overstep.

Wardrobe Style:
Quite the variation from what he considered familiar a few years back, but not necessarily a bad one. Casper isn't going to complain about the comfortable wool now carefully hugging his slender frame, granting enough space between skin and fabric due to his scrawny nature. Dressed in black and grey, Casper is more than content with the choice of colors he had been granted, or rather lack thereof. It was said that black and grey were easy to produce and most of all cheap. Of course, he had not been placed as a servant in the royal court to look like a peasant. Golden linings and decorations don the boy's outfit in a graceful yet careful manner, making sure that the tip of his sleeves find themselves donned with golden silk. His collar is treated in a similar fashion, along with the black leather belt he could later attach a scabbard to, unless it finds home on his back. To finish this outfit, Casper wears a black cloak to protect his thin body from the elements, or rather, that is the official reason. Given his species, Casper is not affected by such, but rather wears a cloak to protect him from the glaring sun.

Fingerless leather gloves find home on his hands and he is rarely ever seen without them. In truth, he finds them comfortable and it helps when he has to grip something tight.








~Relationship Information~
Relationship Status:
Singel
"Who in their right friggin' mind would want me?"

Partner:
None
"Sometimes...I wish I had someone to hold, ya' know? Heh, it's a stupid thought, though. Should focus on other shit, instead..."

Father:
Halash Shari (Biological, Deceased)

Mother:
Hanah Shari (Biological, Deceased)


Siblings:
None

Pet/s:


Other:
"He's so fuckin' fluffy..." - Casper

~Personal Information~
Personality:
"Tend to stick to myself most of the time. After a hundred years ya' don't have much to say, ya' know? People say I'm as calm as death, heh...if only they knew, right? I mean, what's the point in gettin' worked up about shit anymore? I used to care, used to care a lot. Don't do this, don't do that, follow these orders and follow those, one thing after another but now everything's just flowin' on. The world withers and dies around me constantly and here I am, remainin' to see everything die out and grow back up.

Seein' the world from this point of view kinda' puts shit in perspective. Ya' stop carin' that much, ya' stop really givin' a fuck about shit that doesn't concern you. Sure, I'll stand up for myself and those I care about, I'm not made of friggin' stone, but I won't go outta' my way to be some kind of savior for every lost puppy out there. I'd like to think of myself as an observer, I guess. I watch the world run by and fade into the distance only to leave behind somethin' else entirely. People like the king come and go, he ain't the first and sure as fuckin' hell ain't gonna' be the last.

If people knew what I am, they'd sharpen their pitchforks and light the pyres no matter where I go, it never changes. Some people are gonna' be all for magic, some against it, some are gonna' be for the fairy folk and some against em'. Me, I don't care. Can ya' fire a storm from your fingertips? Ain't that swill, good for you. Ain't gonna' prepare a fuckin' pyre cause' of it. Got pointy ears and glitter in your hair? Fabulous, sunshine.

Wherever ya' go people are people and ideals are ideals. Eventually ya' stop givin' a shit and believe me, everythin' gets easier to deal with when ya' do. Deal with what affects you, and don't waste your time with antyhin' else. I learned that shit the hard way."

Race:

Lamia Features:
"Those eyes...they're not human..."
A vampiric race, the Lamia appear to have red eyes, making social interaction a chore at times.

"Nothing but trickery. You are a corpse and little more."
Fully fed, the Lamia's body appears warm and much like that of a human. However, a Lamia whom has gone without blood for a time appears pale and cold. Lamia are required to feed everyday to stay healthy, much like their previous lives dictated.

"A nuisance are what they are! A deranged creature stuck in time!"
Many vampiric races are accompanied by an array of dark knowledge from the years, turning even a child into a matured scholar. The Lamia on the other hand retains the mental maturity of when they were turned.

"It matters little what differentiates the undead. A vampire is nothing but an eternal curse to our world..."
Like every vampire, the Lamia are ageless.

"Such unholy creatures! Not even magic will befriend them."
Lamia have displayed an inability to use any kind of magic.

"All that you are will be drained into them. Their embrace will kill you, and you will be brought back as an abomination. May the divines have mercy..."
To create a Lamia, the vampire must first drain every drop of blood from a living creature before injecting a single drop of their own. A minute will pass before the newly sired Lamia will arise.

"Do not be fooled by their mortal aspects. Whenever you can kill a Lamia, you do it.
Like mortal races, the Lamia can indeed get tired and fatigued if they go without sleep for a prolonged amount of time.

"This is when you should strike. Keep your eyes open for pale skin and a cold presence."
Without blood in their system, the Lamia will fall into a coma like state from which they cannot wake up without being fed blood. This is called the Slumber.

"They can't feel the warmth of your body, the loving touch of your skin. Don't even try to think that they can love!"
Lamia are unable to feel the elements due to their undead nature. Warmth or cold passes them by without a single feeling to their skin.

"Aye, they tire but not like you and I, these demons..."
Like every undead, Lamia vampires do not breathe and cannot feel exhaustion through mortal means, other than the need to sleep.

"Hunting these vile creatures require you to know everything about them, even the things you don't think are very pretty..."
Being undead, Lamia vampires do not have biological functions such as the need to excrete. The blood they consume remains inside their bodies until fully used up. Every vampire species do however have the physical sense of touch and can just like any mortal race feel pain and arousal, whereas many vampire races pursue the latter with a zeal, hence the stereotype.

Strengths:
"Magic is not on their side, but take heed my friend. These demonic abominations are not to be understatement..."
Like most vampires, Lamia possess supernatural prowess in strength, speed and reflexes. It has been noted that their physical capabilities are on the level of ten grown men.

"Their most dangerous aspect. Be careful, my friend...they are still demons and should be dealt with as such."
What truly separates the Lamia from their vampiric cousins is their ability to walk in sunlight without being hurt.

"I swear, I severed his arm from place with a vicious cut but it grew back! I wasn't drunk, it happened!"
Using the blood they have drained, Lamia are able to regenerate their wounds. The more grievous the wound, the more blood they need to use to regenerate, bringing them fatigue and eventually the Slumber.

"Don't believe in myths. Go for the head, always the head."
Shoving a stake into their hearts to kill a Lamia is merely myth as the muscle doesn't even work. Severing a Lamia's head will lead to instant death however, a method highly recommended.

Weaknesses:
"They are creatures of darkness, no matter where they tread."
Despite being able to walk under the sun, the Lamia are a nocturnal being and such they find it uncomfortable. Their regeneration functions slower under the sun and unless hidden behind glasses, their eyes are quite sensitive to the light.

"Silver, my friend. It is a gift from the divine."
Wounds delivered by silver cannot regenerate on the spot. A Lamia will need to sleep for eight hours and use their blood based regeneration to heal from wounds caused by silver. Merely touching silver will wound the vampire like a burning ember. The same weakness holds true for fire.

"Vampires they may be, but they don't hold many tricks up their sleeves."
Unlike many other vampires, Lamia cannot dominate others with their voices or their eyes. They cannot fly, and they cannot control animals with their minds. Neither can they transform into one. The Lamia's physical enhancement is their only trick.

"Trust in the gods, my friend. Trust in them, and they will help you."
Walking on holy ground will prevent a Lamia from regenerating while upon holy soil.

Personal Strengths:
Excellent combatant
"I've been trainin' with weaponry and martial arts for over a hundred years. I know how to take care of myself, promise..."

Vampiric reflexes
"Yeah, I notice shit..."

Melee Accuracy
"Everyone has a weak spot..."

Stealthy
"Been taught to stay in the shadows when I need to..."

Personal Weaknesses:
Social skills
"Alright so I'm new to this shit, alright...?"

Ranged weaponry
"The fuck would I use a bow for...?"

Food
"Yeah, can't eat it. Barfin' that crap up hurts more than silver so...don't gimme' food..."

Reading people
"Just cause' I've been around doesn't mean I know what every fuckin' facial expression means..."

Expressing himself
"Alright, listen...I have a hard time talkin' about shit that bugs me..."

Cooking
"I can't cook cause' I don't know how the hell it should taste...! C'mon...!"

Serving silverware made of silver
"This is just mean...I can't touch this shit...!"

Magic Capabilities:
See Race, otherwise none.

Weapons:
"Silent like a shadow travelling effortlessly across a sea of sand, and deadly like a snake's wrath, these assassins are the reapers we so fear, the dark sting of night which delivers the eternal sleep. Do not be fooled, however. Shadows are not where these beings who trade in death remain. In combat they move like wind itself, their fluid motions like that of a dancer granting you one final show. Each graceful step, each blindingly fast swipe, a dangerous edge reveling in bloodshed." - Assassin's of the Sand, exert from the ancient scrolls of Mhasa Ibn Hayat.

Casper possesses a pair of dual short swords he wields with speed and grace, the vampire's combat style akin to that of a deadly dance. Originated from the assassins of ancient Egypt, many have described both the blades and the combat style as enchantingly beautiful and fearfully deadly. Typically, Casper's short blades are wielded with the edge pointing downward.

Each blade measures up to nearly two feet in length and is accompanied by a black leather scabbard Casper wears on each thigh.

Due to his current role, Casper has hidden his blades in his chambers.




Brief Biography:
"Life's not pretty, it never was. Tell me, what's more useful than a huge dude with muscles bigger than you, breakin' down doors and takin' names? Well, maybe that dude would never be an assassin, but know that the sharpest blade is the element of surprise. Would you believe me if I said that there's a small sect out there, a fuckin' group of assassin's who kill for the highest bidder? Course' you friggin' would. Though, would you believe that the leader of that sect decided to turn a kid into a fuckin' vampire and trained the kid how to fight for a hundred years? Would you? Fuck if I care, really...cause' it happened. I was offered something by a figure in the night, original I know, and said yes. Now, what happened was that I lived on the streets. I scraped by everyday to get some food, to survive. It wasn't nice but it was the only thing I had ever known. I mean, the shit was my life, right...?

There was this one day, can't believe I still remember this crap, when I got the shit beaten out of me by some street punks. I had gotten my hands on some cheese, imagine that shit, right? In a bloody freaking mess, I tried to crawl away but they wouldn't let me. See, the cheese I had stolen, it was theirs. If you don't do your shit right, you'll end up fucked. At this point the pain was just too much. I wanted to pass out but the fuckin' adrenaline in my body wouldn't let me. It was if it wanted me to keep fighting, to get back on my feet and throw another punch. Yeah, it didn't work.

Though, the warm gushing of blood which sprayed across my body wasn't my own. If it was, I would barely have been able to tell because of the pain already pinning me to the ground. I heard screams before five guys joined me on the concrete, their bodies shred to fuckin' pieces. Now, I heard a voice. It was cold like the grave, dark like a fuckin' abyss. I thought death had came to claim me, but I didn't know death looked so friggin' proper. Dressed in the finest silk, this woman sheathed an elegant blade by her waist and smiled at me, that dark friggin' smile pulling me closer in some twisted, disturbing way. 'I can make you strong, I can give you everything you've ever desired.' Tell me, what would you have chosen in my seat? Half dead, beaten to a pulp, bleeding out on the ground and knowing that tomorrow was just another day in hell, what would you have done? Of course I took her hand when she extended it. Warm, she wasn't as cold as I thought he was, her skin warm to the touch yet her voice chilling like ice.

Of course, she never told me what she was gonna' do. She never told me that she was going to fuckin' kill me and bring me back as a vampire but it made me understand why she decided to save me. This woman could have taken anyone she wanted, but she took me, a street urchin without a single fuckin' worth to my name. Being my savior, she knew that I was now bound to her. She knew that I owed her my friggin' eternity which she had granted. Being a nobody, I was the perfect candidate for her little experiment and being a kid I was the perfect weapon. Who would expect a child? Who would accuse a kid of murder? The most perfect assassin is someone who appears innocent but can sting like a scorpion, someone no one would suspect but is able to kill without a moment's remorse. A perfect assassin is a kid without the physical restrictions of bein' one. That's what she made me into, her little puppet. For the next one hundred fuckin' years, I was her puppet, her little sword which she pointed in a direction before blood was spillt.

Yeah, it took me a hundred fuckin' years to see that this chick didn't care about anything but money. She didn't have an overarching ideal, she didn't fight for anything she believed in. She just wanted death and money, and I gave it to her. Meanwhile, friggin' lords and tyrants were tearing the place apart and my Sire was completely indifferent to it. Why did I care? Well, a hundred years for a Lamia might not have changed my mind much, but it has given me experience. It has let me see things. The world is bigger than our hideout, it's bigger than the sword I swing. I wasn't gonna' live the rest of my fuckin' eternity as a weapon for a psychotic murderer who fought for nothing but her own greed. The world was falling apart and if I was an assassin, at the very fuckin' least...I could use those skills for someone else than my Sire. I could use em' for me.

Though...I wanna' rest, now. I want a simple friggin' life...just for a while, ya' know? Makin' beds and servin' food works for now. If I breathed...it'd be a breath of fresh air. The king's nuts and I hope he chokes on his wine but bein' a servant isn't really that bad. It's not like anyone is tellin' me to cut someone in half anymore, that's always somethin', right?"

~Other Information~
Other:
Through his travels, Casper has grown fluent in the following languages:
English
Arabic
Latin
Japanese

~Theme Song~
"I have this weird feelin'..."
"You're in deep fuckin' shit now..."
"Ani...You can only be here for one reason..."
"I never stay in one place for too long...I try to remember everyone, though..."

~General Information~



Name: Cerid Arryl
Other Names: Trenel Syls (Relentless)
Real Name (If Applicable): Cerid Arryl
Occupation: Druid Healer
Place Of Origin: Village a day from Canterlot
Age: 27
Race: Druid
Affiliation: True Neutral

Appearance - With fierce red hair and other minute features such as a stubborn jaw and firm brow to warn of her willful nature, Cerid stands at five foot one. While tiny, and with doe brown eyes she can appear harmless to many. She has scars across the bottom of her feet and her lower legs.

Wardrobe Style:





~Relationship Information~

Relationship Status: Single

Partner: None

Father: Darian Arryl (Deceased)

Mother: Aisling Arryl nee. Durrinan (Deceased)

Siblings: Lenaird Arryl (Deceased), Merigold Arryl (Deceased), Derreck Arryl (Deceased), Gwydion Arryl (Supposed Deceased), Gaspar Arryl (Deceased), Sarra Arryl (Deceased), Merrick Arryl (Deceased)

Pet/s: Nightmare (Black horse), Silkfoot (Black masked Ferret), Whistle (Merlin)

Other: None

~Personal Information~

Personality: She is relentless. Either in the pursuit of knowledge or the vengeance she seeks for her family. She will fight illness and ignorance with a single minded determination. Though she adores creatures and will gladly help them, if you wear the colours of Uther Pendragon the same cannot be said. She is a quiet woman who keeps to herself, happiness long forgot her when devastation happened to her family in the Great Purge. Though she is careful with what she does, if you are indeed innocent of slaying her kin, she will spare you a slow death at her knives. But for what remains to be seen. She loved her family dearly and was heartbroken for years after watching their home burn and her Elder Brother, Gwydion, be slain. This has made her want for a solitary life. But she is torn from this by the need for vengeance. Generally a happy and cheerful person there is a certain regretful air as she looks for vengeance. She's not a killer by nature but a healer so now bears a heavy heart. Though 'her' forest gives her the peace to revive it while watching the deer frolic, and life move as the seasons pass. Often taking in orphaned animals to care for and release in her soft hearted nature. More than once she has led a small child back to his home, a risk she would always take. Anyone could tell by her face when she saw a child that she longed for one of her own.

Strengths: Knowledge of herbs and medicines, beasts, and how people are put together. She can wield a sword with the bare minimum of skill, and is more versed in using her magic in attack and defense and healing, than fighting herself. She can wield dagger and bow by skill at hunting.

Weaknesses: She cannot use a sword well, and is often single minded when at a task. Shy, and cowardly when taken by surprise. She has a slight addictions to lovely things, and especially clothing, often she will float about her small cabin pretending to be some fair lady, and laugh at herself afterwards. She also will never harm or see a child harmed.

Magic Capabilities:
Healing Spells: She can heal non-magical diseases and injuries with a great amount of ease. Able to take on a steady stream throughout most of the day before having to stop to rest. If she drives herself that can be worked on well into the morning of the next day before she will collapse. If magical she will have to deal with source of the problem meaning it could be a single day or weeks until a cure is found and when applied it would take days of treatment to recover. She cannot restore limbs, or blindness/deafness.

Animal Control: Generally it requires a friendly animal and takes very little control. But with a strange animal she exerts more energy and often the focus for the spell can be broken rather easily. The distance will vary for the animal type and the friendliness towards Cerid.

Darker Magic: She can rot flesh and craft diseases. However the disease never takes more than a handful of people and will rarely kill unless she prefects it. And the rot will at most take a section of the body and not the whole thing. She must days worth of rest afterwards and will require skin to object contact for the rot to take effect. For the disease she must create a vessel for it.

Energy Blasts: More akin to a strong gust of wind than a blast of deadly force. It can reach up to twenty feet.

Weapons:
A old sword from Uther's men, a hunting bow, and a set of daggers (Surgical, eating, and tool).

Brief Biography:
Born in a large and happy family shortly before the Great Purge, Cerid lived the good life. However when her brothers Gwydion, Derrick, Merrick and their father went to Camelot to inquire some troubling signs. The Purge began. Shortly before the end for her family began, Gwydion and Merrick returned. Her missing brother and father having been burned as sorcerers. The two were quick to warn the family, but the save for her life was by whim. For when they returned, Cerid was out playing the in the nearby forest. When Gwydion found her and meant to return the smoke warned for fire. He had barely escaped notice of the soldiers as the cut down the Arryl family. Fleeing to the border, they were corned once more and Cerid was forced by her brother to walk across a shale slope to safety her feet badly damaged. She didn't look back and learn what became of her brother. Since then she joined the Druids and learn their lore. She went her own way to her own house and there bides her time. Waiting to extract vengeance for her departed family.

~Other Information~

Other: None.

~Theme Song~
"Mirror Spell" by Mercedes Lackey

~General Information~



Name: Gwydion Arryl
Other Names: Magin Cii (Magician)
Real Name (If Applicable): Gwydion Arryl
Occupation: Traveling Musician
Place Of Origin: Village a day from Canterlot
Age: 41
Race: Druid
Affiliation: Neutral Good

Appearance - Long blonde hair and a neat beard, (When he finally reaches a inn with a barber!). Gwydion has the build of a accomplished warrior and mercenary. His torso is badly scared and burned. With piercing green eyes and a laid back stance.

Wardrobe Style:





~Relationship Information~

Relationship Status: Single

Partner: None

Father: Darian Arryl (Deceased)

Mother: Aisling Arryl nee. Durrinan (Deceased)

Siblings: Lenaird Arryl (Deceased), Merigold Arryl (Deceased), Derreck Arryl (Deceased), Cerid Arryl (Missing, Gaspar Arryl (Deceased), Sarra Arryl (Deceased), Merrick Arryl (Deceased)

Pet/s: Mule (Brown Horse)

Other: None

~Personal Information~

Personality: He's a tad too enthusiastic, and enjoys chattering to youngsters and oldsters alike. Respectful of friend and foe alike, he's a defender. A protector. A nickname in his childhood was The Magican for his ability to make most everyone smile with his little magic tricks. Though if you meet him in battle the same cannot be said. Gwydion is ruthless, relentless and will drive the unprepared into the ground. Though it's his jovial nature that will throw off the opponent for once he's in a fighter's stance all is of little consequence. He is silent when he fights, often noting to others that words on the field of battle 'get in the way of things' and that not talking gives him 'the breathe to spare'. That spared breathe is often used to flatter maidens. For all his ruggedness the man's a massive flirt with a pretty damsel when not in distress. It will not matter if their noble or peasant. He's cheeky as maybe when holding back his respect and will pin the ear of any idiot command who would send him to die. It takes a lot to get this man to transition from irritated and annoyed to truly angry. This stands to reason due to the size of his deceased family. With magic he pretends not to know, but he keeps a very odd version of the old ways. 'It's in my mind. Everything I need. So discovery isn't a issue.' His magic he uses covertly and has stopped more than one sword for a comrade and had narrow escapes from being killed for his power.

Strengths: Knowledge of herbs and medicines, beasts, and music. He knows sword work like the back of his hand, though he can use ax, staff, or spear as well. He's even used a bucket in a jiffy. Gwydion boasts endurance beyond average men and has shown it many a time in his search for his missing sister.

Weaknesses: He is a tad to chivalrous often getting in trouble with the ladies for it. He's a horrible shot with the bow and often will fall asleep on his horse.

Magic Capabilities:
Telepathy: He can link with up to five people, not including himself, if they are in the same building or with two people if they are inside the city and his is outside. He can maintain it for a good twelve hours in his farther ranges and indefinably in close range. Well versed having used this with his family regularly.

Energy Blasts: He can blast someone for some serious damage within twenty feet. Outside of twenty feet they will most likely take some damage and be knocked on their butt. He can take down a gates and boulders, part of his relentless and mercenary career.

Shape Shifting: He uses this to adapt his appearance and hold a simple change for the best of several weeks, but a full body change would hold for only a week. He's well versed having used this skill during the Purge.

Animal Control: He's adept but not overly used to this. Using it mainly to help guide his horse and pitting his will against any creature that would rather eat him. It's close range for most animals but for his horse it can go up to fifty feet. A merc may need his horse close in a hurry on the battlefield.

Telekinesis: He can move a suit of armor, boulder, swords. Hurling or making them slash and block at his whim. He can control them up to twenty feet beyond that he has to throw. He can hold up to ten swords, or five shields, or three suits of armor, or one boulder for roughly half a day.

Weapons:
A sword, four daggers, a shield, bow and quiver. He also has a shield.

Brief Biography:
Born in a large and happy family shortly before the Great Purge, Gwydion went with his father to see if they could set the Purge right. He knew there was no hope but his father was a optimistic man, perhaps too much so. It was his quick thinking that got Merrick and him back home and Cerid to safety. Since he lost his sister he has wandered the world to find her. As bard, mercenary, or even a actor he has traveled for many years looking for the elusive Cerid. Before settling in Canterlot under a innkeeper's roof, the innkeeper took a liking to him even training him to take the inn on in his stead when the old man passed on the inn.

~Other Information~

Other: None.

~Theme Song~
"Philosophy" By Mercedes Lackey

~General Information~
Name:
Aiden Fenri

Other Names:
None

Real Name:
Aiden Fenri

Occupation:
Gaius apprentice

Place Of Origin:
Camelot

Age:
15

Race:
Human

Affiliation:
Lawful Good

Appearance:
Standing at five feet and seven inches, Aiden appears to possess a body quite expected from a young man his age. A thin and slender body resides beneath the otherwise quite simple clothes donning his frame. Many have considered the boy attractive and for good reason, his angelic features shining like a beacon with curious blue orbs peering at you. Lacking in muscle, Aiden's frame is obviously unused to the physical hardships of life, having grown up within a library or an alchemist's workshop.

With a weight of 110 pounds, Aiden manages a slightly heavier frame than his newly acquired friend Casper, but lacks any notable bodily additions which would add to such. Lacking in both fat and muscle, his human nature prevents Aiden from preforming well in combat or other physically demanding trials.

Though he is not the picturesque knight in shining armor, Aiden does manage to swoon many a girl who would give much for his attention. Of course, there are obvious reasons as to why this goes unnoticed, mainly his preferences. However, as no one knows of this, Aiden's lack of attention is excused with his constant focus on whatever potion he is brewing or book he's reading. Aiden appears to always have something on his mind, always a project or another he's working on.

The boy's blonde hair shines brightly beneath a searing sun, a wonderful compliment to his fair skin and ocean blue eyes. Aiden puts a lot of effort into cleanliness and hygien, given his occupation, and wouldn't lower the priority of such under any circumstances. A healer can never possess dirty hands or the patient would suffer greatly because of it.

Wardrobe Style:
Aiden prefers simple outfits consisting of fully sleeved tunics, scarfs and warm pants. The boy has a bad habitat of always freezing, so he oftentimes keeps his slender frame wrapped up in overcoats and scarfs. Aiden also possesses a shoulder bag where he always keeps a recipe book for potions and herbal medicine.







~Relationship Information~
Relationship Status:
Single
"I wish that one day my heart's desires will be answered but...merely uttering them would probably get me killed. King Uther would burn me alive for one reason as it is, I don't want to give him another."

Partner:
None
"I am sure there is someone else like me...somewhere."

Father:
James Fenri (Alive)

Mother:
Freya Fenri (Alive)

Siblings:
Garland Fenri (Older brother, Alive)
Ronald Fenri (Older brother, Alive)

Pet/s:
None but takes care of Fang, Casper's kitten, sometimes.


Other:
"I love Fang! He's so adorable!" - Aiden

~Personal Information~
Personality:
"My parents always told me that a pleasant personality and a respectful demeanor will get you far, and I think they were right. I mean, you can't always smile at everything but smiling sure helps you lift everyone's spirit. I do believe that everyone should be respectful, though. Even if you're facing someone you despise, being respectful is something I consider highly valuable in a person. Isn't it nicer to hate each other respectfully rather than screaming obscenities? Hehe, looks more professional that way! I never really raise my voice, don't see much a reason behind that. If you can't get your point across calmly, you probably need to think it through more thoroughly.

I like being careful and often keep my eyes open for danger, you know? I hate getting hurt because of my own stupidity and mind you, I can be very clumsy. Sometimes I think that if it wasn't for my powers, I'd be dead by now. Mom and dad thought about putting armor on me as a child because I kept falling down. I hope it hasn't caused any lasting effects on me...that would be a bummer.

Huh? Oh, yeah! I love hanging out with people. The best thing ever is getting to know new friends, there is so much to learn from everyone and people are so spectacular, you know? I recently got to know Prince Arthur's new servant, Casper. He's really sweet on the inside, but he has a rather rough exterior. We haven't talked much about his past but from the tidbits that I've been able to pick up, he seems to have had a rather rough go of it. He's really quiet, too. He barely ever speaks unless spoken to and sometimes I think he's sad, but I try to cheer him up as much as I can. We're kind of opposite, I guess you can say. I love hanging out with others and Casper usually just rides along in the background. I'm not going to force him into the spotlight or anything, I'm just happy to know that he's comfortable.

Yeah, I guess you can say that's what drives me. I want to see people happy and healthy. If I can in any way make that happen, I will. Oh? Yeah, you don't have to ask me twice...this whole anti magic ordeal is heartbreaking. I really hope it ends soon, but for as long as its going on, I am going to keep using what I can to help those affected by it. Of course, I don't just walk up to random strangers and help them, but sometimes I wish I could, you know? People are bearing so much misery inside and they don't talk about it. I've always said that the deepest wound is silence. I get that I'm always trying to be a candle in the darkness but I'm not ignorant or naive. I know we live in a very dark world that's essentially falling down around us, though that only makes me want to struggle even more. Humans, 'Monsters', I don't care. There are good and bad people wherever you look, no matter what. Everyone who doesn't live to ruin the lives of others deserves help when they need it.

I decide who's good and who's bad? No, I don't. I do however decide who to help. Even though I've got the power to heal, I'm no saint and I know that. Honestly, I try to be a good Samaritan to everyone, even the ones out to kill us, but it's a struggle. Picture yourself in a scene where your choices are to heal a murderer or to let him die. Sometimes the most healing can happen when the latter is chosen...

It's difficult, not going to deny that. Good and evil are just moral constructions and I don't believe either of those actually exist though when it comes down to it, you really wish things were black and white sometimes."

Strengths:
Herbal knowledge
"You can't always rely on magic. While it's the most effective way, it's not always the most appreciated one. Besides, healing magic won't help you make tea!"

Alchemy
"One drop of this, one drop of that...hmm...three squeezes of this aaaaand...oh, hi! Can I be of service?"

Biology
"It's the basics of all medicine!"

Medicine
"If I didn't know this, well then what kind of healer would I be?"

Weaknesses:
Combat
"Heh, I've never really had time to learn. I prefer to help those who can fight rather than do it myself."

Physical labor
"Yeah...I don't have a lot of muscle..."

Battle tactics
"I have absolutely no idea what's going on right now..."

Magical quantity
"I'm rather locked to one kind of magical path, it seems. Though, at least it lets me put all of my focus into something."

Magic Capabilities:

Under the tutelage of Gaius, Aiden has been helped to discover the previously latent powers residing within his heart. The Old Religion speaks to him and he listens, deep within his soul.

Aiden is capable of conjuring the magical forces of the world to heal what ails the sick and regenerate the wounds of the dying. Indeed, only a fool would deem such an angelic gift a danger. Speaking of danger, Aiden has proved incapable of conjuring the elemental blades of magic and appears to be restricted to the healing touch. Though quite capable in the arts, due to the incredible persecution of magi, Aiden resorts to magical healing as covertly as possible.

Availability:
- Aiden is able to heal even the most gruesome of wounds given enough time and energy.
- Aiden has the ability to heal himself and others.
- Aiden's magic is not limited to wounds. He can also heal illnesses and other similar ailments, including effects caused by other spells.
- Aiden can heal people through fabrics, but not through armor.

Limitations:
- Aiden's ability is not automatic on himself. He has to actively heal his own wounds just like he'd heal anyone else's.
- Aiden does not have an unlimited supply of energy. The more gruesome the ailment he needs to heal, the more energy it will require. Without rest, overusing his magic will cause Aiden to faint.
- Aiden can only heal one person at a time.
- Aiden cannot bring people back from the dead. Once a person is brain dead, they are beyond his help.
- Since this ability is active rather than reactive, Aiden is just as mortal as anyone else and needs to actively heal himself when hurt.
- Aiden needs to concentrate to heal himself and others, meaning in a heated situation he'll have great difficulties.
- Removing curses and the like requires Aiden's powers to be on the same level or higher to manage.

Weapons:
None
"Couldn't swing one to save my life, literally!"

Brief Biography:
"I'd rather let you know in time. That's more fun!"

~Other Information~
Other:
Aiden has a thing for men in armor.

~Theme Song~
"Your actions decide if you're a monster, not your race. You're not a monster...!"
"I believe we all have beauty in our hearts, no matter where you come from! I mean, snow might be cold but it's beautiful! Life isn't black and white."

Name:
Ani Ishar

Other Names:
Ani has had countless names throughout her life.

Real Name:
Ani Ishar

Occupation:
Assassin
Noble

Place Of Origin:
Egypt

Age:
23 (587)

Affiliation:
Neutral Evil

Appearance:
A striking beauty, Ani would follow the stereotype of what wive's tales describe as a vampire. Marvelous skin, a voice harmonic and enchanting to the ears and eyes capable of peering into your very soul, Ani sports a graceful and athletic frame belonging to that of a dancer.

Standing at five feet and seven inches in height, she walks with a bearing of pride and authority, her blood red eyes swiping over her surroundings in an attempt to dot every point of interest. The gentle and dare I say pleasant smile crossing her flawless lips has without doubt seduced those whom have played the role of pawns in Ani's game of masks. Long and slender fingers along with undamaged feet hint at a life of luxury and privilage before darkness claimed her being, turning Ani into a Lamia.

Rows of pearly white teeth fill her mouth, two fangs easily visible behind her lips would she bare them for any to see. It is quite clear that she despises dirt and appears to keep her clothes clean at all times. In combat, damaging her outfit would surely lead to a fearsome vampiric rage.

Wardrobe Style:
Ani wears outfits considered beautiful and expensive, a level of bombast and etiquette fitting a noble of her standing. Across her slim waist rests a belt always holding her trusty weapon, ready to be drawn at a moment's notice.










~Relationship Information~
Relationship Status:
Single
"A man? A woman? No, my dear. I give myself to none."

Partner:
None
"Love in darkness, a poetic tale, no? Poetry is all it is."

Father:
Imothep Ishar (Deceased)

Mother:
Nayhat Ishar (Deceased)

Siblings:
Lahan Ishar (Brother, Deceased)
Maya Ishar (Sister, Deceased)

Pet/s:


Other:
"Quite the sweetheart, my dear Shade." - Ani Ishar

~Personal Information~
Personality:
"What decides a person's worth? It's a question you often find yourself asking with your blade at their throat. A purse of coins, that is your answer. It has been said that as long as two people remain in this world, someone will want someone else dead. Moral values, a laughable creation brought to light by those who cannot stand on their own two feet. At the end of the day, we live in a world where the strongest live and the weak die, it is a simple truth which surpasses every law and moral code brought to life by mortals clinging to their fading threads.

Now then, how would people define me? I'll pretend to lend care to the subject, all in humoring purposes. Evil, heartless, selfish and greedy are terms many have placed upon me through the years. Are they correct? I would presume such a truth lies in the eye of the beholder, no? Indeed, I look out for myself and those I consider my dearest, an evil notion towards those who would mean us harm. I strike down those who's name fall on the contract in exchange for coin, a heartless notion indeed. This is much unlike those who go to war in the name of a king they have never met, no? Truly, an evil being am I for raising my blade towards those who have abused, molested and chained children to a dark dungeon wall. A person's name does not fall on the contract because they looked at someone the wrong way. Someone is always evil in someone else's eyes.

Am I selfish? Of course. I will not deny my love for coin, but would I choose coin over my beloved children of darkness? The answer is a resounding no, something I wish every mother would say. However, in my very much evil line of work, you do come across peers who would see themselves in acts quite foul.

Now then, greedy. Of course. The more coin resides within the purse, the more appealing the contract will become. Do I differentiate between good and evil, light and dark? Of course not, mainly because such does not exist. I am however not entirely given to the glimmer of gold, as I have established. Will I slay a child? No. The sins of life have yet to reach them, and if someone needs to hire an assassin to kill a child, weakness shines bright. I will not accept such a pitiful job from a pathetic creature weak enough to hand it out."

Race:



Personal Strengths:
Amazing combatant
"A cute notion, truly. How long have you held that blade, young man?"

High level vampiric reflexes
"I can hear your heartbeat, the blood flowing through your veins."

Charming
"Mortals do at the very least have good taste."

Persuasive
"Would you kindly...?"

Personal Weaknesses:
Casper
"There is nothing in this world which will keep me from loving you, my child."

Fashionable clothes
"You dare...damage my attire? It appears that this room shall now be repainted..."

Ranged combat
"How pathetic. Do battle with a fraction of honor, will you?"

Art
"I will never damage such beauty, not even in the midst of a fight."

Magic Capabilities:
See Race, otherwise none.

Weapons:
"Never have I seen such grace and elegance entwined. This blade, it's enchanting beauty is sure to strike awe into a man's heart long before its deadly edge reaches your flesh..." - Karl, Master Smith

The magically enchanted blade named after the beauty of the moon, Fleur De Lune is an extravagant elven blade
created by the fey folk. Despite her otherwise unsavory work, Ani was granted this sword as thanks for saving the fey from a rampaging werewolf. Indeed, the wolf's head had already been signed off on a contract, but the blade was a reward Ani wouldn't let pass. Despite the incredible hatred fey harbor for vampires, elves tend to be honorable to a fault and wanted to reward the enemy of their enemy for her endeavors.

Fleur De Lune's enchantment:
Indestructibility - Enchanted by the old magic of druids, Fleur De Lune has been granted eternal life, it's steel infused with the very essence of nature's beauty.

Magical blade - Being enchanted by magical forces, Fleur De Lune is capable of damaging otherworldly beings otherwise immune to physical harm.




Brief Biography:
"Ah, would you like to know my story? Darling dear, I shall tell you in due time."

~Other Information~
Other:
Ani is fluent in the following languages:
English
Arabic
French
Japanese
Irish
Old English
Latin

~Theme Song~
"He might hate me, but there is nothing I wouldn't do for my child, no one I wouldn't rip apart for him."
"It appears you are eager, dear. Very well. I shall not keep you waiting."

Name: Arthur Pendragon

Other Names: Prince Arthur

Real Name (If Applicable): Arthur Pendragon

Occupation: Prince/Head of the knights

Place Of Origin: Camelot

Age: 28

Affiliation: Lawful neutral, Chaotic good

Appearance :



Relationship Status:
Single

Partner: None

Father: Uther Pendragon

Mother: Ygrain De Bois

Siblings:

Morgana (half sister).

Pet/s: None

Other relations:
Guinevere De Lyonesse (Friend/Love Interest), Merlin (Manservant), Tristan and Agravaine De Bois (Uncle and Aunt)



Personality:

“Arthur’s one of these real rough, tough, save the world kind of men.”
Gwen

Arthur is still just a young prince and it shows in his everyday actions. Being the prince of Camelot he’s grown to be a spoilt and self serving character, and can be seen picking on any servants of his whom he deems inadequate at their job. Though he may be the spoilt brat of the king he does have a kind heart under his rough exterior which shines through every once in awhile. On occasion he is known to be willing to die for what he believes in, or those who are important to him. On the average day though, if the people of Camelot knew what is considered a Jock, Arthur would very much so be just that; A Jock of Camelot.

Strengths: Having been born to the king of Camelot, Uther Pendragon, Arthur was trained since birth to fight and kill. Due to this he is proficient in all weapon types. Above all else he exceeds at use of the sword and lance, so much so with the lance he is the jousting champion. His courage and skills with a sword make him great on the battlefield.

Weaknesses: Arthur has a hot temper and can easily become enraged, especially when those near and dear to him are threatened. In some situations he will be willing to lay his life on the line for what he believes in, or to protect those he loves.

Magic Capabilities: None

Weapons: Sword

Brief Biography:

Arthur was born to Uther and Ygraine Pendragon with the help of the sorceress and priestess, Nimueh. Ygraine was barren and couldn’t have children, so Uther went to Nimueh for help. Unfortunately in order for Arthur to be born, a life to be made, a life had to be taken. The life that was taken was Arthur’s mother, Ygraine. Because of this, Uther despised magic and had any users executed. Uther never told Arthur the true nature of his mother’s death, keeping this secret since Arthur was born. Growing up as the King’s son, he was trained since birth to kill, and is very well versed in many weapons.



King Arthur

Name: Sir Kay of Antor

Other Names: Sir Kay, Count of Antor

Occupation: Knight of Camelot

Place Of Origin: Camelot

Age:31

Affiliation: Lawful Neutral(Presently), Lawful good(leaning towards in the future)

Appearance :



[b]Relationship Status: Single

Partner: A variety of lovers, ranging from noble daughters to simple kitchen maids, Kay is known for his ways as a womanizer.

Father: Sir Ector of Antor

Mother: Lady Elizabeth

Pet/s: None

Other relations:
Guinevere De Lyonesse (Friend-protective towards her due to her relationship with Morgana),

Merlin (While treating him no better a simple servant in the eyes of other, Kay secretly admires the boys loyalty to Arthur),

Morgana La Fey(Former crush and currently a younger sister figure to him)

Arthur Pendragon(his liege and Brotherly Friend, owes him staunch loyalty)



Personality:

Kay is often perceived by most to be either charming and quick-witted or callous and conceited. Many times he comes off as an arrogant, even amoral brute that holds no qualm in indulging into his deviant ways. People that don't know him well tend to take what comes out of his mouth in the worst possible light, and often a simple joke might be seen as an insult or grave threat to ones life. For the chosen few that can call him a friend, they have a sound ally. He gladly shares drink and breaks bread with the fellow Knights of Camelot and will jest & banter deep into the night. He keeps an eye on his own and one who makes move against his friends should be very careful about how they do it, for Kay will make his response swiftly and brutally if perhaps within the confines of Knightly honour.

Strengths: Although inferior to Arthur in terms of Swordsmanship, Kay has an inborn talent for the blade and years of training have honed him into a deadly adversary capable of holding his own against single targets or multiple foes with practiced ease. And although his sharp tongue is mostly used to launch barbed comments against adversaries or woo Ladies with elegant charms, Kay has an innate talent when it comes to arguments and he will rarely lose in a battle of words. He also a confident commander and talented organizer, giving him the ability to further evolve into a great general and tactician in the near future.

Weaknesses: Impetuous, although growing better with age Tristan is still plagued by follies of youth, sometimes acting before thinking. Arrogance, being the son of the previous leader of the Knights of Camelot has had its negative effects as well as positive on Kay. Unpredictable, due to his impetuous nature and his opinions often being determined by his moods it can sometimes be quite hard to judge Kay’s reactions to things.
Resolute, Being set in his opinions and will can help drive Kay on to achieve his goals, however it also makes it difficult sometimes to work with him as he can be quite uncooperative if his beliefs clash with others.

Magic Capabilities: None

Weapons:A bastard sword given to him by his father on his 18th nameday. Kay also has access to an arsenal of lances, bows, axes, maces and pretty much anything he might need to acquire in either a tournament or a battle.

Brief Biography: Kay is the son of Sir Ector, King Uthers Champion during the original Conquest of Camelot during Uthers young and the first Leader of the Knights of Camelot. Since birth, both him and Arthur grew as close as siblings, and Kay acted as Arthurs attendant, carrying their weapons and provisions on outings, while hey both trained in the ways of combat and the ways of being a knight. They often trained with wooden swords, and although Arthur was superior, Kay considers that he still received victories. Despite Arthur always having been victorious in combat, they always argued while they fought, and due to Kay's arguments, he felt that in a way, he had won against the Prince of Camelot. It wouldn't be long before Morganas arrival in Camelot and be added in their small group.

One notable incident in their childhood, occurred during a rainy day while Morgana was sick and both Uther and Arthur were away for a visit in the Kingdom of Gawant, so only Kay was available to tend to her. Although Gaius reassured him that she was in no danger, he promised to do anything she requested in exchange for getting well quickly. He was very persistent in having her request something, so she said she wanted to "dream of a lion running across plains." He then left to carve a wooden lion, hoping to make an old, dying lion unable to hurt a mouse so as to not have it harm her in her dreams. The carving was poor enough that she compared it to a cross between a dog and a cat, but she appreciated it and was able to see the dream. Kay became shocked at his lack of carving skill upon her telling him, sadly telling her his original intention for it.

Kay would eventually grow up, earning his spars in the battlefield and finally joining the Knights of Camelot in a Grand Ceremony where he was knighted by the King himself under the proud eyes of his father. Although many can call the son of Ector of Antor a deviant with an acidic tongue, not one of them can question the loyalty he holds towards the King, Arthur or Camelot itself.



youtube.com/watch?v=INcnBf8SS1o