[hider=Vyri Underfoot] 

[b]Name:[/b] Vyri Underfoot
[b]Age: [/b] 19
[b]Gender: [/b] Female
[b]Species: [/b] Human

[u][b]Background [/b][/u]

[b]Kingdom of Origin: [/b] Nepharie
[b]Parents: [/b] Mari Underfoot
Alanan Underfoot

[b]Backstory:[/b] Vyri is a servant, or rather, was a servant. The National Academy of Sorcery is a huge institution, and like all huge institutions, has a great deal more below the surface than most are aware of. Dozens of forgotten corridors honeycomb the ancient buildings, forgotten except to the legions of servants, footmen, maids, cooks, deliverymen and other staff without whom the Academy would swiftly grind to a halt.

It is much the same in all of the institutions upon Creation, for every opulent feast there are a dozen cooks sweating over the ovens, for every alchemist’s accident there is a maid scrubbing the soot marks from the walls. They are the people who make the world go round, but they are never particularly important in the grand scheme of things, content simply to go home after a job well done. The world does not rest on their shoulders, and the fate of nations does not depend on their decision. It is, for the most part, a peaceful life.

It is about this time that Vyri is dearly wishing she had never wanted something more. The life of a servant in the Academy of Sorcery is simple. They are well looked after, with adequate servant quarters and pay that is to be expected, plus free access to any leftovers from Academy meals. The Underfoots, as the name suggests, have served at the Academy for as far back as the family can remember. Vyri’s father was a servant, his father was a servant, and his father before him. It was the same for her mother’s family.

Vyri didn’t want that, she wasn’t content, she wanted to leave, to adventure, to live the life her parent’s had never had an interest in. They told her it would just be a phase, to just stay for a little longer. There was not really anywhere for her to go anywhere, they were paid, but not enough that she could simply go adventuring.

It was stupid, how could she have been so stupid? That one decision that changed her life had to be the most foolish thing she had ever done.

The National Academy of Sorcery contains perhaps the premier collection of sorcerous artefacts in the world. Though each of them pales in comparison to Godbane they still represent power unmatched by an private collection. The most powerful artefacts are locked behind sealed portals, access available only to the most senior of the Academy’s mages and the Council themselves.

Other items are kept in various strong rooms, their magic faded or the purpose long since forgotten. Vyri stole one.

How she wishes she could put it back. It appears to be a simple ring made of iron, clearly of magical origin to those with the sense, but with no apparent power of its own. Such is often the case when things are not truly understood. Though the Academy has long forgotten the rings origin, the ring has not. It has lain undisturbed for centuries, even millennia, until finally it found someone to bear it.

Vyri took something that she though would not be missed. She only wanted a thrill, that sense of adventure she was denied within the walls of the Academy. Had she committed her act of rebellion a year earlier then perhaps she would have remained there. Things are changing in Tithe, the dead roam the land, and it has stirred other things that lie just beyond the veil.

The being that dwelt within the ring awoke when she placed it upon her finger, and Eleuril, ancient Sage of the Faefolk, a figure forgotten by history and legend, spoke into her mind.

Vyri is stuck with the ring. She cannot remove it from her finger, try as she might, and she cannot ignore the voice that speaks inside her head. That and it was only a matter of time before someone realised that the ring was missing. She stole what little money she could, and fled the Academy, heading north towards Talbor, following the hordes of the undead.

The ring has its own history. Once a great academic, Eleuril became obsessed with the thought that his knowledge and understanding would be lost and dedicated what remained of his years to prolonging his life indefinitely. The amount of God-blood that would have been required to accomplish such a task would have been impossible to acquire, even so long ago, so he sought other routes, and eventually fell into darker studies, exploring the tenuous link between the soul, the body, and magic. He came across a text, something old even in his time, but preserved far beyond its natural end by the sorcery of its author. It spoke of the soul, and the body, and how to manipulate and separate the two. These petty manipulations and pursuits of power held no interest for the Sage however, he wanted something far simpler, and perhaps far more costly. Though he succeeded in prolonging his life far beyond what it should have been he could still feel his strength seeping away, his life gradually ending. A slip, a misbalance of power, and he ripped his own soul from his body, binding it within the ring he used as a foci. When the Council realised what one of their most prized Sages had been doing they obliterated all record of him, and now only brief mention can be found of him in the footnotes of history, much to his chagrin.

[u][b]Physical Appearance: [/b][/u]

[b]Height: [/b] 5'7
[b]Weight: [/b] 100lbs
[b]Appearance:[/b] Vyri is relatively tall for a servant, standing a slightly gangly 5’7. She has the sort of form that suggests she is wanting of a few square meals, but is rather a product of a hyperactive metabolism instead of a lack of food. She bears the typical complexion of those of Nepharie, swarthy, though only particularly dark when exposed to the sun for long periods of time. Her hair is dark, too frizzy, and usually pulled back into a ponytail for convenience.

Her eyes are large, green, and not unattractive, though often too expressive. She’s not a natural liar, and catching her off guard can often lead to her giving away the truth through her expression.

She was raised a servant, has lived as a servant, and, in her mind, will probably die a servant. She has that uncanny knack that servants acquire of simply fading into the foreground, being so much a part of the situation that they are almost unnoticeable. She walks hunched over, trying to make herself as small as possible, even more so in the time since she stole the ring, terrified of what might happen should someone discover what she hides beneath her gloves.
[b]Attire: [/b] Solid and serviceable clothing is the order of the day for Vyri, with a long dress of cheap woollen cloth covered by an apron. She has acquired a cheap second hand cloak of heavy, faded wool and a pair of leather gloves that she rarely takes off in company.

[u][b]Personality: [/b][/u]

[b]Personality: [/b] The spark of adventure is still alight in Vyri, she loves to visit new places and meet new people, and has an almost insatiable curiosity when it comes to either of those subjects, perhaps to the point of annoyance. With that spark of adventure comes a rebellious streak, and she has an embarrassing (for her parents) habit of answering back, with little patience for arrogance, especially in her ‘superiors’. Still, there is a part of her that regrets the road she has taken, and wishes that she could simply go home to her parents, to the life that was a lot simpler and a lot safer, without a sarcastic, grouch fairy in her head.

She doesn’t want fame, or recognition, and will happily pass the credit onto others if they want it. It helps that she has no desire to draw attention to herself, fearful that the Academy will find her and remove the ring by force, as every other technique she has tried has failed. Other than her habit of arguing with arrogant noble children she is mostly a kind and patient soul, though her patience is wearing thin now that her own head is not private. She has a tendency to irritability of late, though it is not her true nature.

She can be sarcastic, and has a rather sarcastic sense of humour, as well as a somewhat pessimistic outlook on life. Since taking the ring everything seems to have become a lot more complex and difficult, and she really sees no reason why it would possibly get any better.

Eleuril is equally as sarcastic, making them the perfect match. He is bad tempered though, and has none of her patience, especially for her and her unwillingness to allow him to use magic. He is cantankerous and ill-tempered, with little time for the foolish and even less time for those he considers beneath him, which fits just about everyone short of royalty. He does however, have some enjoyment of the debates of magic and magical theories with others of sufficient understanding. Unfortunately Vyri is not someone of sufficient understanding.
[b]Hobbies: [/b] The life of a servant, even in the Academy of Sorcery is hardly filled with thrills, and having long since grown out of childish games she has instead acquired a taste for games of the mind, riddles and such. 
[b]Skills: [/b] Vyri was raised the daughter of a footman and a cook, and as such has acquired a number of skills from both. Though she would not be ready to serve food at a banquet, she knows her way around a cooking fire and can recognise and make use of natural herbs and seasonings. She also knows all she could ever need to know about maintaining cooking equipment, including sharpening knives, which could be extended to weaponry, though it is unlikely any warrior would let her near their sword.

She is also a gifted needlewoman, when clothing is supposed to last a long time you become accustomed to repairing tears and even adding simple embroidery. She could not match the skill of a professional tailor, but has an undeniable talent.

[u][b]Abilities/Combat: 
[/b][/u]
[b]Abilities:[/b] As a servant, Vyri is comfortable blending into crowds, even in places she shouldn’t be, taking advantage of the fact that most of the higher classes wouldn’t even deign to notice her presence, let alone question it.

Eleuril however, is a very different matter. An ancient Sage, he remembers magic that has long since been forgotten, and is capable of wielding potent sorceries from eons past. Unfortunately, the fact that it is no longer his body means that his abilities are incredibly reduced from their great heights, and a Sage who once would have dwarfed even members of the Council is now brought down to what he considers a demeaning level.

When Vyri grants Eleuril permission to wield his powers then he effectively takes over control of her body, she can take it back, albeit it can take some effort. She also still retains some limited degree of control even after the fact, for example interfering with any spells or gestures he may make, throwing his aim or the predicted effect wildly off. It is possible that the two could come to something of a compromise, though neither is anywhere near such an event. His presence behind the spells becomes more or less apparent depending on the level of power they require. It can vary from simple incantations in which his control will simply cause her face to take on an expression of complete serenity, to mighty spells in which the presence of the Fae sage is tangible, even visible, a faint shadowy figure surrounding her, mimicking her movements.

The first element Eleuril mastered was that of air, long before he became a Sage, and it is still the element which comes to him easiest. It could be called instinctive, if it weren’t for instincts being long since forgotten along with his mortal remains. He is capable of a whole multitude of feats, from the simple task of an unexplained wind casting aside arrows, to more complex weavings that could pull the air from about a target, leaving them to gasp desperately at the vacuum that now surrounds them. He can shape the air about Vyri’s limbs, allowing her to move far more swiftly than she would otherwise be able to, and even achieve the same effect with allies should he wish, while hindering the motions of opponents. A simple application of basic meteorology also allows him to generate lightning bolts, hurling them like an angry god.

Though as a Sage he has an understanding and mastery of the other elements, and it is this that truly proves his greatest weapon. He was a learner first and foremost, someone who sought the deepest secrets of magic and wished to understand the workings of the world itself. As such he has a talent for understanding the spells of others, for deconstructing them and redirecting them. Though this can theoretically be applied to any spell, it isn’t much use if it is hurtling at Vyri at speed, greater workings, or enchantments however, will swiftly receive the scalpel like curiosity of his mind.
[b]Weaponry: [/b] A handful of knives for preparing food, a frying pan, and a saucepan, in as much as they can be quantified as weapons. She also has a small sewing kit, and though thread is hardly lethal, the needles are wickedly sharp.
[b]Weaknesses: [/b] Vyri is no warrior, she is a servant. Any fight with someone of actual skill will lead to her loss without a severe handicap to her opponent, and even then, she’d have to be lucky. Also, although the magical abilities Eleuril can wield through her would best most living sorcerer’s she has little fondness for them, disliking the sensation of being worn that comes with the ancient Sage’s will. He seems to require her permission in order to utilise magic, or at least has so far shown no ability to override her own free will, or no reason to. 
[b]Mount: [/b]

[b]Other: [/b] [/hider]