Name: Dusk Alyiah

Color: Teal.

Age: 24

Gender: Male

Description: Dusk could normally be seen clad in a lightweight white cloak
that concealed his angled features. His piercing brown eyes were mere slits between
their lids as they hid from the glare of the sun, hair of the same color wrapped
into a tight bun atop his skull, tied with a teal ribbon. His brow was accentuated with
a teal circle the size of a pea, slightly between and above his eys. Beneath the cloak he wore
a hard leather vest and bracers, creased and brittle with the marks aging and the scent of mildew.
He carried an aged bronze scimitar on his left hip, its blade nicked and hilt tarnished.
Upon his back rested a bronze-plated wooden shield of the same make and quality as the sword.
Around his waist he wore a finely made leather belt with a variety of different sized pouches.
His bare feet shown signs of significant abuse, the calloused and scarred pads of someone
who neglects to wear shoes on the regular.

Occupation: Herbalist, Mystic.

Personality/Bio: Growing up Dusk's family was poor.They did the best they could with what they had,
but life in the Oasis was often hard with a lack of food and proper clothing. His mother, the
primary influence in his life, was a medicine woman. He learned his herbalist skills from her.
She could have supplied a more lavish life for their family with her skillset, but her humble
nature and compassion for the underprivlidged prevented that. Most of her work was done for the
areas least fortunate citizens who could afford little or no compensation.

Dusk's father was a laborer and skilled fighter. He had at one time served in the military, but
that was a life he tried his best to forget. Most of his coin wasn't made through carpentry, though.
Little did Dusk's mother know, the proud man had resorted to selling his sword for illicit activities,
only wanting to be the best provider he could for his family during these trying seasons. All it took
was one botched job with some sleazy underground society to land the man in prison for an
indefinite amount of time. The only way to free him was with a significant amount of coin.

Dusk takes after his mother mostly, sharing her drive to help the less fortunate. He studied her art
for many years growing up and was now a fine herbalist himself. The compassionate nature and
dedication have lead Dusk to begin having a deeper understanding of himself and a more harmonious
relationship with animals and the world itself. While he normally wouldn't charge much for his
services, the family is in a tight spot. Father has been imprisoned for years, and if they hope
for him to ever see the light of day again, Dusk must raise the coin needed to free him.
Perhaps in service to a travelling party as a healer. The idea captivated him.

Possessions: Lightweight white cloak, old leather vest, tarnished scimitar and shield, bag of herbs,
mortar and pestile, a few bandage rolls, and various bottles of herbal extracts and salves.

Name: Hannibal Bartleby Hughes "Mr. Hughes"

Color: E0FFFF

Age: 35

Gender: Male

Description:
Hannibal's smile has a tendency to make any looking upon it either like him, or want to punch him in the face, and the two feelings aren't always exclusive. He absolutely oozes with self confidence, thoroughly captured by his own genius or insanity. Often garbed in mismatched clothing, the only thing consistent about his appearance is a rare golden locket around his neck of untold value. Despite his reputation for never shutting up about his deeds, he's remained suspiciously quiet about it.

Occupation: Adventurer! Explorer! Inventor! Savior of maidens! Duelist! The jewel of Oasis!And now Caravan Captain Extraordinaire! At least according to himself.

Personality/Bio: Was Hannibal orphaned at a young age, learning to make a living off the streets of Oasis, picking up his skills after a hard life of crime? Or was his the son of the aristocracy, disowned by his family and using his good start at life to seek fame and fortune? Both these stories and more have been told by him over the years, and nobody has come forward to confirm or deny either of them. What is known is that he has been a sensational news story in Oasis for nearly two decades.

At this point, picking apart fact from fiction in his life would be nearly impossible. If his story is to be believed: When he was still a teenager a scientist employed by the crown came upon him in a bar, after a lively conversation he was taken in as an apprentice, working on a project that may have had to do with the advancement of steam power. This station lasted a couple years, before he was kicked out of the palace after having received a personal pardon from the Queen herself over the death of one Lord Donaldson. He claims it was in defense of a maidens honor, however whispers of murder are still spoken by the aristocrat's family.

That incident alone would have kept him in the papers for a long time to come. This, however, would merely be the first of many incidents across Oasis earning him notoriety. He joined the city guard for a time, intent on becoming a beloved figure of justice throughout the city state. That career also ended spectacular, as word of his ties to the city's organized crime got out, and an old picture began circulating of him making merry with the group's ringleader. His attempts to explain matters fell on deaf ears, and he was only saved by another pardon. This time on the condition that he never work for the crown in any capacity again.

He took this charge seriously, perhaps too seriously, and vowed never to work for anyone but himself again. He continued to make headlines over the years, boasting about a myriad of insane feats. Working as a private investigator bringing down corrupt aristocrats. Being the first man to stalk The Pack and return alive (according to him, they do in fact breed on the move). Tinkering with the prospect of Human flight! The failure of which is one of the few confirmed and documented rumors about his life, a nasty fall off the wall of Oasis nearly killing him. Supposedly he won and lost entire fortunes gambling in the bars of Oasis, and drank away nearly as many.

Now... Now the world felt oddly small. It had been a growing discontent for years, that there simply had to be more to do in this forsaken world. Something other than the sand, The Pack, and the blasted Oasis. It was he who had proposed the idea of a new expedition to the Crown, pointing out that it wouldn't be employment per se. It's said that they agreed immediately, for no other reason than to get rid of him. How true that rumor is remains to be seen.

Possessions: A locket made of pure gold, simply in the shape of a circle. Two swords, one bronze and another, thinner blade, rumored to be steel however no one has seen it drawn. Other than these, he doesn't appear to possess much, at least not anymore. The crown was more than happy to take whatever other possessions he had in exchange for agreeing to this fool's errand.

Name: Vincent Azamov

Color: Chartreuse

Age: 29

Gender: Male

Description: Scrawny and tall. Wears a long field coat with many pockets for scientific gubbins (This is the technical term) such as a telescope and note book. He has a face worth of short stubble more from lack of care than an effort to cultivate facial hair. His hands are criss-crossed with cuts due to working with his hands constantly on new inventions.

Occupation: Scientist, inventor and master of fine cheeses

Personality/Bio: At a young age Vincent was a genius, though a quiet one. Often overshadowed by his many siblings the fact that his afternoons were spent alone reading was left unnoticed. However, once he left his home to apprentice at a library preserving tomes his talents began to flourish.

After leaving home he was able to convert his small apartment into a little workshop to put into practice many of the things he had learned over the year. Though after a short space of time he soon begin to believe that his readings were inadequate. He became obsessed with the idea of the great chasm and wanted to cross it so as to learn of new things beyond the sandy confines of his dull desert world.

He is a quiet man however once he gets talking he is difficult to shut up and will often talk about length about things that mean little to anyone but himself. He makes himself useful with the promise of crossing the chasm and his endless books worth of knowledge on many aspects of the desert. His knowledge of the stars is also useful for navigation.

Possessions: The magnificent ‘Songbird’ ornithopter and a caravan full of books on many subjects ranging from engineering to forging. Several changes of clothes and a large amount of papers for note making. He also has a cross bow of his own design that can fling bolts semi-automatically which is heavily needed as he is much less than a crack shot.