Full Name: Dalious Durendail
Nicknames/Titles: Dal
Occupation: Pirate
Birthday: December 13
Height: 5'11"
Weight: 170 lbs.
Race: Human
Sex/Gender: Male.
Age: 32
Sexuality: straight.
Place of Birth: A small coastal village on the Guratan and H'kelan borders.

Biography: Dalious was born to a whore and a sellsword. His mother died at birth, and his father years later in battle. He was taken in by an orphanage at a young age, though he soon ran away on his own to make his own life for himself. He, as a teenager, became a successful thief, and soon managed to join a band of bandits known as the red flag gang. Here, he learned simple tactics of sword fighting and mercenary work, but it only lasted until he was a young man. The gang was eventually captured and/or killed by members of Chief Kisarin's tribe. Dalious, along with his lover at the time, fled by sea. They eventually were attacked by pirates, of which he lost his love to, but soon after gaining his vengeance on the matter, he created his own band of sailors that followed him. This was to be his way of life until his end, but a few of his pirate companions betrayed him and his most loyal, once Dalious made a name for himself. He was shortly captured and sentenced to be hung.

Roleplay timeline:
-Dalious and a few of his loyal pirate companions were sentenced to be hung, but H'Kelan forces attacked the village at unawares allowing him to escape by horseback.
-Found nearly dead, Dalious was healed and taken in by Cyril, prince of Barcea, and his company. The prince took them to Gurata, looking for an answer to solve the H'Kelan problem.
-Dalious chose to fight with Cyril in the Arena battles, in respect for saving his life. Cyril's team won the games, and with it they achieved more allies.
-Looking to become rich, Dalious again followed the prince back to his homeland, swearing to aid him in the coming war. He participated in the battle at the border with H'Kelans. Dalious fought and slew many, remaining unscathed in the fight.
-Next was the assassination attempt on the castle, when most were resting from the previous attacks. Through a great dark power, seemingly immortal assassins silently attacked. Dalious survived again, having seen true and dark magic being performed.
-The company moved to the Lady Renata's safe haven, where the pirate learned new arts and trained for the upcoming war.
-Dalious fought in the battle against Gartian, which was a victory, however he suffered great injury. His jaw was broken by the advisor, just before the fight was won.
(confirmed kills: 76)

Personality: Witty, charming, confident, brash, bold, sarcastic, cunning, egotistical, narcissistic, prideful, arrogant, selfish, etc.

Likes: The sea. Women. Whiskey. Sea food. Dragongrass. Adventure. Women. Weapons. Strategy. Wind. Challenges. Ale. Women. Card games/pirate dice. Gambling. Vodka. Rum. Money/loot. and women. and TREASURE!

Dislikes:Government. Laws/rules. Chains. People. Magic. Skunks. Hell, magic skunks!

Skills/Strengths: Sailor. He has been traveling the oceans for most of his adult life. He can swim like a seal and moves well in water. Thievery. Is silent in the shadows and moves around like a cat. Swordsman. Prefers two swords in combat, as that is what he has trained with the most. However, his current weapon of choice is a katana with a dragon crest on the steel, created by the Barcean blacksmith. Strategy. Has won all of his battles at sea due to being more cunning than his opponents. He can read the wind changes well, and knows how to not get surrounded.

Flaws/Weaknesses: Has a weakness for booze, money, and women. So much so that the desire for one of those things could easily be a trap for him that ends his life (and he knows this). Is Prefers one on one combat where he thrives, but is little to nothing against magic. He considers magic unfair.

Weapons/Equipment: Katana with a dragon etching along the steel. A blunderbuss, which he made himself (and that doesn't really work all that well). He stuffs the weapon with anything really, and it is only good for close range. Tiny Bombs, small enough to pack many and powerful enough to turn a man inside out. Bow/arrows/spears/knives- weapons he doesn't necessarily carry, however he is effective with them all.

Appearance:



Dalious is handsome and athletically fit. Years of swimming have sculpted the man's body into a chizzled masterpiece (as he would call it). He has tattoos all over his back and arms of rare maps and other sea related things, such as compasses, creatures, ship layouts, etc.

He has a hard, firm jawline and fair skin, though it is often covered by his facial hair. His eyes are brown, and his hair comes down to his shoulders. He has brownish/blonde locks, but at the right setting of the sun, his hair may look golden.

Main or Side: Main
Username: Sol Grim

Full Name: Stvor
Nicknames/Titles: He is nicknamed 'Root' for his stance on running away, which is nonexistent. His title is that of a newly appointed Sentinel of the King of Barcea.
Occupation: Sentinel/Soldier/Bodyguard/Whatever is required
Birthday: February 17th.
Height: 210 cm (6' 10'')
Weight: 120 kg (265 lbs)
Race: Demon
Sex/Gender: Male
Age: 276 years old, appears to be in his late twenties or early thirties.
Sexuality: Straight
Place of Birth: He was born in the Jasi lands to the south, but has no nationality other than his loyalty to the Renata family.

Biography: Born long ago in the Jasi lands to the south, Stvor was never a good fit. His lack of subtlety and understanding of politics quickly landed him at odds with his family and made him the black sheep. The only thing he ever pursued is power in its truest form - strength. There was none to be had for the likes of him on these islands, and he was just about to leave when he found his first master. The discarded Jasian aristocrat saw an opportunity in the young demon and taught him how to use strength oriented magic. Stvor wasn't as strong then, but he was still much stronger than the withering old man. The training that started here soon turned him into the old man's enforcer around the islands. With the demon's help, the old man kept rising in power and influence, until such a time that Stvor deemed him useless. The demon wanted their roles to switch, as the old man did not have anything over him anymore, but when the old man refused, Stvor killed him.

This raised a problem. Over the course of Stvor's service, he made the old man much more important than someone who could simply vanish without a question. In order to avoid being connected to the murder, he left the islands in search of a more suitable challenge for his abilities. He found one in service to the Renata family, or its head in particular. While he thought little of her diminutive appearance, her might was terrible and to be respected. He knelt there and has been serving ever since.

His first real assignment was as a part of one of the demon head hunter squads that were to gather up information and if possible end lives of as many members of the Manu Propria as possible. He was good at his job and he appreciated that it took him closer to sources of great strength than any weak individual could survive. It was many years before he was called back by Lady Renata for another mission. He was to be assigned to the Sentinels of the Prince, now King, of Barcea. He wasn't ecstatic when he heard about his new orders, but he still did what he had always done best - he served. It wasn't too bad though, as he appreciated the now King as a strong specimen of his species, and being near power had always been intoxicating to Stvor.

Personality: Stvor believes himself to be a force of nature. If directed to do something, it will happen, unless obstructed by another force of equal magnitude. He does not question his orders or doubt them, he only serves. It is not all so simple, as Stvor is an ambitious creature and he would readily betray his master if he actually believed himself superior, or a more suitable master was found. His life ethics are simple - he wants to be the strongest, but until he is, he will settle for serving the strongest. He has no sympathy for weakness and no tolerance for failure. When off duty, he's still gruff, but more approachable.

Likes: Strength, Conviction, Endurance, Truth

Dislikes: Weakness, insincerity, Compromise, Insecurity

Skills/Strengths: Stvor, likely rightly, assumes himself to be one of the strongest creatures in existence when it comes to brute force. Over the years, he has developed his own brand of strength based force magic, with which he can push and pull people or objects at range within the limit of his natural ability. I defined the parameters using something I'm familiar with, DnD 3.5 carrying capacity rules. I imagine Stvor to be a 20 STR large creature for the purpose of carrying capacity limits, which would put his light load at 260, his medium load at 520 and his maximum load at 800 lbs. This power uses his own gestures, and therefore causing movement uses up his hands. As such he is unable to manipulate more than two targets at once. Below is the breakdown of the ability in detail:

Light load would be 260 lbs or less - this would entail things he could move around easily and without too much effort. This would only get tiresome in prolonged usage, say hours.

Medium load would be 260 to 520 lbs - here we'd have things that can be done as easily as the light load portion, but certain conditions need to be met, such as solid ground, clear focus, no serious wounds. Using this would hinder his movement, but not terribly. If he was focusing at two things at once, he could not move at all. This could be kept up for 10-20 minutes before exhaustion made it impossible to do anything more than light load.

Heavy load is 520-800 lbs and implies focusing on only a single target, movement is impossible. Solid footing, clear focus and lack of serious injury or exhaustion are no longer desired, now they are mandatory. This is quite taxing and can be kept up for a minute at most - and this is in ideal circumstances. In more realistic tones, we're talking burst of 20-30 seconds, after which he's exhausted and subjected to light load limitations until such a time he can rest for at least a few hours.

Flaws/Weaknesses: Other than his strength, Stvor is just as vulnerable and slow as a regular human. All the physical weaknesses of humanity still remain - he can still incur disease, his body can still be bruised, cut and broken, he can still be manipulated and tricked.

Straightforward - Stvor is rather predictable and rarely contradicts himself

Uncompromising - only compromises with beings of equal strength, and that has maybe happened once or twice in his life.

Oaken - Does not bend until he breaks. Someone has to be overwhelmingly stronger than him in order to force him into submission or service, but once that is achieved he is completely loyal and sworn until the first sign of weakness.

Unskilled - He doesn't know how to do anything other than what he does best. He is terrible at most mundane tasks, has no martial skills to speak of, and while he hides it well he can hardly hold his weapon properly.

'Root' - He does not run. He can be beaten into submission or killed, there is no third.

Ambitious - He aims to surpass every other thing in the world, as far as strength alone is concerned. His ambition too is predictable and easy to exploit

Cold - Stvor doesn't has sympathy as such, he is effective and appreciates everyone contributing to the limits of their usefulness. Everything beyond that is of little concern. This makes him quite likely to overlook possible grudges and treachery.

Weapons/Equipment: Standard Sentinel uniform for attire and a nondescript sword and axe at his hips. The weapons appear to be brand new.

Appearance: Stvor is a truly statuesque sight. Huge and muscular beyond human comprehension, he is easily seen and recognized from afar. What obviously separates his from human kind is a complete lack of any sort of hair on his body and his skin tone that makes him look like a really pale man covered in copper dust. His eyes are gray and his mouth almost a lipless slit.

Theme Songs: Disturbed - Indestructible

Other: I have this problem of first wording my character's appearance before finding a suitable picture. So we'll go by description for now.

Inspirations: I usually devote my characters entirely to a concept. Most times it is anything but strength, as my game of choice is DnD and strength there is pretty limited to hit more/ hit harder/ grapple - all of these bore me quite quickly. With all this, it's been a while since I've played any strength centered build. I think this is a better environment to make it shine mechanically, as what I had in mind is essentially strength based force magic, and I think that would be a fun mix. This one should be strength incarnate, he's always been as strong as he needed to be. He only bowed to those stronger than him and he never gave any credit to those weaker. It's a simple way to look at things, but it's hard to disprove its credibility. I also think it would be pretty funny to see this character in a situation where he has to use his own brute force instead direct it through magic or have to use a weapon - I imagine him incredibly subpar and clumsy in both of these instances, as he never had to be skillful or good in hand to hand combat, because he was usually strong or well supported enough to avoid things he was unable to do. Don't even get me started on doing anything other than tasks of strength! His entire mindset hinges on strength. If it's negotiating - it's explaining why it would be unwise of his adversaries to provoke someone stronger, if it's threats then again it's physical - I'll break this and that until you bend. Strength isn't a stat, it's a state of mind. So astral projection Hulk, would be the short of it. And if I ever go back to doing homebrew, strength based magic would be something I would really like to write up.

Main or Side: Main

Username: Atrexiel

Full Name: Alice Isabelle Leon
Nicknames/Titles: Nickname: Leon, Ali, Short Stuff, Snake Charmer
Occupation: Hired Gun
Birthday: July 15th
Height: 5' 00
Weight: 130 pounds
Race: Human (Westerner)
Sex/Gender: Female
Age: 26 years old
Sexuality: Heteroflexable
Place of Birth: Small village in the West
Biography: Through her childhood and up until the time Alice Leon left her home in the West she was taught to look to The Gifted and their Leader, Kuraihi, when times were scary or hard. Each night she would pray to them, hoping and wishing for things in her home land to get better. When the war got to her village it was all she could do to not lose faith. If anything her essentially idolizing of them only grew stronger. When her home and family went up in smoke Alice ran as far as her, then, small legs could take her. She arrived in the next city over- one far larger and more secure than her little village in the woods. She did what she had to do to raise money and leave to the West. She realized very early on that she had a gift for persuasion of others, focusing it so that she could make her life easier. Calling upon the magic into her eyes Alice grew capable to overtaking a weaker person's mind and bending their will to do as she pleased. Upon arriving in the Eastern countries she found herself traveling between the various land, typically as a secrets broker. An investigator of sorts. It became very clear that over time she was to learn to defend herself. Aside from her gift of persuasion Alice realized that she had no real magical talent; with that in her mind she turned weapons. Mostly projectile weapons of the gunnery sort. Over the years Alice has honed her skills to that of a master level- her favorite weapon being her compact sniper rifle. With those weapons she has done less than savory things but one must do what they must to survive. Since meeting the Sentinels during a competition within Guarata she asked to join the group with herself and with her partner Stark. Upon arrival to the Capitol Alice began to continue her travels with the Prince and his group of warriors to Barcea. After a series of events that lead to the attack upon the castle and the ride to Lady Karin’s home Alice was graced with new weapons by The Lady herself. Being fully invested Alice continued travels through the war against Gartian and his army all the way through to the fight against the Advisor. During said battle against the Advisor she received several broken ribs and torn muscles and ligaments from a brutally dislocated arm before being knocked out entirely.
Personality: With new groups of people Alice comes off as being the quiet observant type of person. Should she find the chance there may be remarks of sass and good natured joking. When she becomes trusting and comfortable with the group she tends to be loud and thrives on making others laugh. She does have a hot button on discussing the God Kings of The West and when people disrespect the Gifted and their Leader. Alice also has an affinity for cute things, both items and people, and tends to dote on them. Despite the trusting nature of the woman, Alice has no fear in drawing her weapon and pointing it point blank at a potential threat and pulling the trigger without a second thought. Her kill count was stopped being kept track of after she marked her two hundredth kill...she’s been doing what she does for a long time.
Likes: Cute things, retelling the stories of The Gifted, her weapons, being surrounded by friends/trusted companions. She also adores the bush viper she carries with her as a companion- Hissy.
Dislikes: God Kings and their servants, the cold, seeing any of her companions/friends being hurt (severely enough to where her blind rage might take over), deep waters.
Skills/Strengths: She is gifted with a high level of mental persuasion; this allows her to delve into the minds of those with mental guards weaker than her own and either control their actions or delve into their memories. Alice also has skill with long range rifles and sharp shooting with handguns- her eye affiliated magic enhancing her scoping abilities. Her current weapons are all tech from Jasi- infused with magics. This means it allows her to make several impossible shots with just a bit of magical exertion. She tends to use this when at long range with her rifle (taking out several targets at once) or with her shot gun (taking out dozens of close range targets). Her hand to hand/short range combat is up to snuff but nothing too special.
Flaws/Weaknesses: Her past with the God Kings is always her biggest weakness. It is the key way to get her to lose focus and make mistakes. Her anger and her lack of being able to swim are also quite damaging to her should the time arise. Alice also has little training with most other weapons such as spears, axes and swords.
Weapons/Equipment: One compact sniper rifle that is carried on her back, four handguns, several small blades (one in each boot, on her belt and one in her chest harness), a short single handed blade at the small of her back below the rifle case and brass knuckles with claws/hooks on the underside of them. Her gun ownership is quite vast and ranges from antique to the newest tech straight out of Jasi. She has also been known to carry an extendable bo staff in the moments she needed to keep it at mid to close range without her guns.
Power Bullets: 7/8
Healing Bullets: 39/40
Appearance: Alice stands at five foot tall with an hourglass figure. She has deep green eyes that lighten when she is using her persuasion magics and wavy tawny hair that goes down to the lower curve of her back. Alice is also very top heavy, meaning she has quite the chest on her. She does tend to bind it but they are still quite prominent. The pink flower she wears in her hair was a gift given to her by none other than Kuraihi himself at a chance encounter in her childhood.
Theme Songs: Trouble by Neon Jungle / Ready Aim Fire by Imagine Dragons
Other: She is currently traveling with the Sentinels.
Main or Side: Main
Username: PetiteAmbivert

Full Name: Stark
Nicknames/Titles: None
Occupation: Traveler
Birthday: January 1st (She has no idea when her actual birthday is)
Height: 5'03"
Weight: 115
Race: Nonhuman
Sex/Gender: Female
Age: 18 years old
Sexuality: Pansexual
Place of Birth: Jasi
Biography: Stark was born to a rather poor woman in Jasi. Due to their poverty Stark's mother sold her as a babe to a group who specialized in training guardians of the upper class of Jasi. It was soon discovered that Stark had an affinity for water magic; they focused upon that affinity until she was about 13 years old. From there she was sent to be a guardian to Sonya Youn-Bae, a young Lady of the Upper Class who was very heavily involved with the scientific side of life. The pair grew up together, Stark always being a shield to the Lady and accepted that it was her life's goal to keeping her safe. Sadly that mission was failed when Sonya's carriage was attacked by thieves of a rival group. Stark wasn't able to control the carriage when the driver was killed while she was trying to defend their position. The carriage shot off the passage they were on, tumbling several dozen feet. When Stark came around she had somehow been ejected from the carriage and escaped with a minor concussion and various scrapes and bruises. She raced towards the carriage only to see a mangled -very dead- Sonya. The thugs that attacked their carriage became nothing more than dried out husks next to them as Stark used her power to its utmost ability. When Stark came back out of her blacked out attack she didn't know what else to do. So she ran. She ran as fast as she could...that was about 9 months ago. She's currently just blindly following where the wind takes her, learning new things but not all there. She's come to realize she is a creature of purpose and right now she's got nothing. -> Upon running from bounty hunters coming for her head Stark met Alice Leon head on. Alice, also looking for the wanted ‘murderer’ from Jasi, knew that there was more to the story and rather than cash in on the girl she did something she had never done before and helped her flee. Stark had no money and nowhere to go and asked to stay with the sniper in exchange for working for her and doing whatever she asked. Alice consented and away they went-traveling wherever Stark got curious about. Which is how she and Lady Leon came to Guarata and met up with the future King of Barcea and his Sentinels. Upon traveling to the South with them Stark came into contact with not only the Divine Paladin- the man who is currently helping her with her studies of the Divines- but also came into contact with Lady Karin Renate (someone Stark is fearful of due to the immense power lurking just under the surface. The Lady gave a ‘gift’ to Stark of two bracelets on either wrist of a delicate almost fragile silver chain with a silver-blue. These bracelets would be the first steps of Stark discovering just what the Divine’s she really is and why her arms are able to shift into massive scaled claws and why she finds killing almost thrilling. After several battles Stark met her match against the Advisor who severely broke not only her nose but several bones in Stark’s face when the Advisor used Alice to beat Stark.
Personality: Stark has no real identity of her own, because of this she not only has no last name and is a bit socially awkward. She is capable of making jokes and sassing people but only until she deems them as being someone she can trust. When she is nervous or frightened she tends to speak exceptionally fast. When fighting Stark is the type to observe and strike as well as mimic (meaning if she sees a style or fighting that is working she will copy it to an extent and add her own flavor to it). It is also in her nature to come up with off the wall combinations that get the job done faster. Since she received her bracelets her personality turns almost into something entwined with blood lust. She hunts the enemy with no mercy.
Likes: Swimming, large bodies of water, pulling pranks, making people smile/happy, learning about the world around her and especially learning about the Divines.
Dislikes: Forced into isolation for extended periods, creatures of the darkness, being rejected, the ‘too full’ feeling when she shifts
Skills/Strengths: Due to having a gift of water manipulation not only does Stark have a large range but her control is on the higher end nearing mastery. With her increased brute strength and durability with the shift of her arms Stark is far more capable with close range attacks and magics. She does still have much to learn but when it comes to focus she's second to none. She is also an extremely skilled swimmer, also due to her control of water. Stark is astonishingly quick on her feet and even quicker in high stress situations- improvising could be called a specialty of hers. When she does actually speak she tends to have a knack for combining attacks to create something far more effective.
Flaws/Weaknesses: Mentioning her lack of knowledge on not only the world but about religion on basic concepts such a family tend to be hot buttons for her. She doesn't like to be called stupid or naive. If she can’t keep focus when she is fighting Stark will cross the threshhold into blacking out and all out brutalizing the enemy(it’s only happened once but she refuses to let it happen to her again) Her biggest fear is being burned alive, fire users are far from her favorite people but skilled users are her biggest threat.
Weapons/Equipment: She currently carries a Jasian shotgun as a second means of protection on top of the four water skins strapped to her body. She uses them when no water is available or as a quick resource. Since visiting the Renate home Stark’s newest prime form of attack after her water magics are the matching bracelets she wears. When coming into contact with blood, not necessarily her own, they activate something lingering within Stark’s own genes that allows her arms to shift to something non-human. Her arms grow and elongate with large claws at the fingertips and scales that seem to substantially block oncoming magics and block against standard weapons such as swords or spears. She doesn’t know why she is able to shift like this.
Appearance: Since joining with Alice and the other Sentinels Stark has been able to put on weight to look closer to lean rather than underfed. Stark has long gray/silver hair that is usually kept in a tight bun atop her head. When it is down her hair is well passed her hips. Her eyes are a reflective silver- in some lighting they are almost like a mirror. Her pupils are slitted, something apparently passed down in her family line from when one of her ancestors mingled with a nonhuman. She also has something of slightly sharper more prominent incisors than the standard human but that too comes from her ancestors mingling with non humans. She also has a scar under her right eyes and a freckle under her left eye. She's got a dusting of freckles over her nose and cheeks that stand out the longer she remains in the sun. When she shifts over with the bracelets her eyes seems to stay slitted in their thinnest form and she seems to snarl and bare her teeth more. The scales cover from her fingertips all the way up and over her shoulder and taper out going towards her neck. The scales themselves range from being fist sized to as small as a pinky nail and all of which flex and shift with the muscles underneath it. When normal the bracelets remain as though they were just trinkets-when activated the chain seems to disappear and only the jewel is seen on the inside of her wrists amongst the scales themselves. They range in color depending on the light and how much blood is on them. The scales seem to have a silver/grey base with an iridescent blue tones shine that can look from baby blue to deep cerulean to teal and among the whole range of the blue and slightly green spectrum.
Theme Songs: Midnight City (Instrumental) by M83 / Dracarys-Game of Thrones OST (Season 3) / Renegades by X Ambassadors
Other: Stark has no family, no home and no last name. She is currently just a lost soul looking for some kind of direction-she is finding it in her studies of the Divines and within the group known as The Sentinels...or at least she is hoping she is.
Main or Side: Side
Username: PetiteAmbivert

Full Name: Vi Talbot
Nicknames/Titles: Fives. Tal. Bartender. Hostess. Card Magnus.
Occupation: Hostess at The Hermit’s Abode
Birthday: December 21st
Height: 5’ 10”
Weight: 150 lbs
Race: Human
Sex/Gender: Female
Age: 24
Sexuality: Pansexual with a preference to females
Place of Birth: Jasi
Biography: Vi was born the eldest of the main family of the Talbot clan. From a very young age it was clear to her family that she was going to be a strong mage; having flown through the tutors her family provided and showing no sign of stopping. They groomed her to be the next head of the clan and for quite a few years she was willing to do so. However, about three years ago from present day, she discovered that her family was doing shady dealings with those who claimed to be ‘cleansing’ the world and has ties to things that Vi was against. She fought her family to break of all ties but they wouldn’t listen...so she stepped down as the heir of the clan and left. She left with nothing more than her staff, the strongest deck that the Talbot family had, and her dignity. She traveled to the closest port of Jasi, called in a favor, and never looked back as she boarded the boat. The next stop she got off at was the town of Kyora. She took the sack of coin she’d earned at the various stops between Jasi and Kyora, people like a good magic show, and went for the bar. Next thing she knew she had a job as a bar keep at the Hermit’s Aboade. Since then she’s made a simple living as the lively barkeep who keeps the travelers entertained and the booze flowing. She does still practice her magic daily and aids the town where she can-she likes it in Kyora but something in the back of her mind whispers of changing times. Especially with the cruelty that recently happened a few villages over.
Personality: Vi is usually very quiet but in the instances she opens her mouth one of two things comes out-flirtatious innuendos or sarcasm. She’s got a quick wit and a quicker tongue. Vi enjoys making others happy and making others laugh but will do what needs to be done to keep the peace and ensure that others are safe before anything else. Vi is intelligent, always has been, and prefers to use her magic to aid others in battle rather than fight directly-though she isn’t against it. She’s got strong feelings about recent events to a near fault and has been itching to find out who did it so she can beat them into the ground. She’s usually for cruelty but she’s to the point she could make a one time exception.
Likes: Music. A stiff drink. Discussions with other magic users. Traveling. Doing what is right for the masses. Actually being able to sleep. Flirting to her heart’s content.
Dislikes: Being degraded. Being forced to remember her place as heir to the Talbot name. Those who wish to inflict harm on those around her. Cruelty. Those who kill for sport.
Skills/Strengths: Vi has a massive store of magic that she was trained to grow since she was old enough to walk. Despite being a mage Vi has no problem being in the heart of battle though she does have a preference to give support to as many of her allies as possible-able to help most with her wide range of magics.
Flaws/Weaknesses: Vi does suffer from insomnia and though she tries to remedy it with sleeping potions or simply meditating if it’s a hard bout of insomnia she is going to be affected in her magical performance. She does have a limit as to how long she can use certain cards or how many times as some of the beasts contained are far stronger and hard willed than others.
Weapons/Equipment: Vi’s primary weapon is a deck of intricately designed cards. It looks to be a standard deck of tarot cards-upon closer inspection the face of each card is a different beast or object with a different name. Due to a long line of scholars and mages making up the core of the Talbot family; Vi inherited a lot of the latent magical ability and was taught from a very young age how to nurture that magic so that she could fully control her families strongest deck of beasts. As an added assist to her own magic-and a weapon she has been known to use in battle- Vi also carries a tall mage’s staff with a single large clear crystal seeming to levitate between a series of rotating disks at the head of the staff.


Appearance: Vi Talbot is a generally pretty woman with a natural pout to her lips and a beauty mark next to her left eye. Her eye’s are light sunlight through a finely cut sapphire with thick long lashes behind a set of rectangular white glasses. Her skin is naturally tan in color and oddly free of freckles. Her hair is as dark as it gets and is usually pulled half back with the rest down-coming to rest just passed her shoulders. She doesn’t really look it but she is a lean mean fighting machine-she hides it well with her general covered attire. She’s got an infectious smile that she tries to spread to everyone around her.
Theme Songs: Levels- Nick Jonas / Literally at any point this and anything similar is playing around her / Sugar- Maroon 5
Other: Don’t try and out drink her. You will lose.
Main or Side: Side
Username: PetiteAmbivert

Full Name: Vesta Debove
Nicknames: Joy
Titles: Instructor
Occupation: Swordsmanship and military strategy instructor.
Birthday: March 9th
Height: 5’6”
Weight: 150 lbs
Race: Human
Sex/Gender: Female
Age: 39
Sexuality: Heterosexual
Place of Birth: Barcea

Biography: Vesta was born to a minor noble family in Barcea. The youngest of six siblings, she knew that she'd have to prove her worth to achieve any sort of acknowledgement. Unable to compete with her siblings when it came to intellectual or social pursuits, Vesta found her niche in fighting. Even from a young age she could best her eldest brother in a fight, and when she came of marrying age she insisted in dueling any of her prospective suitors much to her parent's disdain. However, their disdain soon changed when word of her martial skill got to the King. Almost instantly the story they told became of how they absolutely encouraged their daughter to pick up the sword and bow, and how they would be oh-so-honored to have her serve in his personal guard, and how it would be best if her stipend was sent to their homestead for it to be better protected.

If Vesta was thrilled to be in the service of the King it did not reflect through her attitude. Never the most socially graceful of people, Vesta's serious, all-business attitude won her the reputation of being a killjoy amongst the Royal Guard. By the time she was promoted to Captain of the Royal Guard even the King had taken to calling her by her nickname, Joy. Vesta did not mind; she firmly believed it was her seriousness that had gotten her to be the most accomplished member out of her family. Unfortunately for Vesta, the first year of serving as Captain was the same year of the doomed campaign West. According to the surviving guardsmen, Vesta failed in her duties to protect the King. She was relinquished of her command without ever having the chance to tell her side. Disgraced, Vesta did not wait around to receive any other forms of punishment. Abandoning her family and her country, Vesta fled from Barcea with nothing but a horse, a sword, and whatever gold she could carry.

Taking up her old nickname, the first few years of Joy's self-exile was in the West. However, even in the tumultuous times after a war she was unable to find herself a foothold, often due to her being caught drunk on duty. Hearing of the Arena in Gurata, Joy made the harrowing journey to seek victory. What she thought would be her chance of redemption after battling her way uphill for years was instead a sheer drop off a cliff. After a fantastic win streak, an ungodly powerful blow with a war hammer shattered her budding gladiator career as well as her right knee. The rest of the year was spent using what little gold she had left to purchase a bed in a lice-ridden inn while trying to care for her wound.

Her injury never healed completely, preventing her from being a bodyguard; nobody wants some cripple to protect their life. Her pride prevented her from going home or seeking charity. Uneducated, uncouth, and now permanently crippled, Joy believed that the only option she could turn to was banditry. The last few years of her life have been spent in self-disgust, finding solace only in the bottom of a bottle. At some point she hit the very bottom of her downward spiral when she committed an atrocity that made her realize what she had become.

The road to redemption actually began with her seeking condemnation once Joy heard rumors of the Sentinels being near the border. However, when she was brought before the Queen of Barcea she was recognized as their former Captain and was welcomed instead of punished. She was also recognized as a bandit by the H’kelan Ambassador Ennis Cade, but the man promised to keep her secret as long as she served as his bodyguard. Begrudgingly the woman accompanied Cade, and Cade accompanied the Sentinels as they traveled to Gurata to begin the forming of an alliance against the H’kelan King Gartian.

Eventually she was separated from Ennis once he was forced back to his home, but instead of fleeing she stood with Cyril and the Sentinels as they worked to defeat Gartian. During this time she began to doubt herself and was prepared to flee in the middle of the night, but she was caught by Shadar. After speaking with him, she reconsidered and began seeing helping Barcea, and especially helping Cyril, as her raison d’etre. She had begun to considerably drink less, and when the Lady of Demons fixed her knee Joy almost felt as if she was back in her prime.

Then she failed to save Queen Kori, as did the other Sentinels. However, Joy had enough of giving up in her life, and she acted in the Prince’s stede until he was able to be rallied. She served at his side until the day they directly faced Gartian and the Advisor. Through the combined effort of her allies they were able to defeat the Advisor, although not without their own wounds, and Cyril cut down Gartian. Finally, after reuniting with the people she considered to be her family, they had peace. However, the road is long, and there are always new foes hiding in the shadows.

It has been two months since victory day, and Joy has been busy prepping Barcean soldiers for the future fights to come.

Personality: Severe and silent since her youth, Joy has begun to let her walls down around people since reuniting with the Serios. While she is still wary around strangers, she is trying to be less skeptical and pessimistic than she had been in the past. Unfortunately, sometimes walls aren’t built just to keep things out, and swathes of people have now been exposed to her bitter tongue and her extreme bluntness. On the bright side, at least she’s honest, her days of lying to protect her own back left far behind her.

Joy is an extremely dedicated and determined individual, and would lay her life down without hesitation for those that she has chosen to protect—although this is a rather exclusive group of people. Joy takes her duties seriously (too seriously, really) and is easily upset when others shirk their responsibilities or give up. On the surface she just seems as if she is being unnecessarily tough on others, but truthfully she doesn’t want anyone to have to deal with a situation similar to the one she had found herself in.

Oh, and she’s still horrible at mixers.

Likes: Tedious tomes on tactics and stratagems, long baths, riding horses, fresh bread, dueling, training, repetitive tasks, structure.

Dislikes: Cheap tricks and dirty fighting, dancing, most forms of stew, alcohol, talking about the past, bards, paladins, and magicians, oh my.

Skills/Strengths: Joy has quick reflexes, good eyes, and an alarmingly swift strike. She was a prodigy with a sword in her youth and never lost a duel, and even today her skill in a straightforward swordfight are superior to most. Plus, she is actually a rather good instructor, all things considered, and is a walking encyclopedia of fighting styles and military tactics and strategies.

Flaws/Weaknesses: She’s lived a rougher and a longer life than most soldiers, and she simply doesn’t have the stamina of younger people and loses her edge in longer fights. She has no magical abilities and her weapons are completely mundane, so fighting beings that are more than human is a royal pain in the ass. Plus, even at her best she’s still kind of a jerk.

Weapons/Equipment: A run-of-the-mill longsword, a composite bow and a hip quiver full of arrows, and a small coin purse. She also carries the hilt of a dagger in secret, mostly out of embarrassment, on her person as a kind of good luck charm despite the blade having been broken off in the fight against the Advisor.

Appearance: Harsh living and a prior dependence upon alcohol has plucked the youth out of Joy’s face, leaving her with tired, gray eyes and prominent frown lines. Still, living a posh city life with regular access to a bath has helped in making her appear more civilized—no longer is grime caked on her skin or her hair. Also, living and teaching under a roof has stripped her of most of her tan, bursts of freckles being the only proof that she ever even had one. Despite having access to an actual barber, Joy still prefers to cut her own hair in broad, uneven chops above her shoulders, and the thought of dyeing the streaks of gray out of her black hair have never even crossed her mind. Her normal speaking voice is firm with a strong, commanding presence, ideal for sending shivers down students’ spines.

While not necessarily the most physically imposing figure, Joy has a lean, muscular build and stands with a rather confident posture. She doesn’t dress very impressively, however, and prefers comfort and utility over pageantry. Dark pants, neutral tone blouses, leather gloves, and worn-in boots tend to make up almost all of her outfits, and she has a dark, fur-lined cloak tucked away for colder weather. She still favors lighter armor and wears the same old gambeson whenever she is “on duty”, although she now wears it under a blue and white tabard to signify her allegiance to Barcea. Her sword’s pretty much on her regardless of where she is because old habits die hard.

Theme Songs: Joanna Newsom- Time, As A Symptom

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Full Name: Ennis Cade
Titles: Lord
Occupation: Head of the Cade Family, Leader of the Kirun
Birthday: June 19th
Height: 6'2”
Weight: 130 lbs
Race: Human
Sex/Gender: Male
Age: 22
Sexuality: Heterosexual
Place of Birth: The Kirun, H'kela

Biography: Many generations ago the Cade family came into control of the Kirun, a small mountain settlement in H'kela near the border of Kyoura and Gurata. The location saw to it that the family and settlement was soon flush with wealth from trade, as well as protected from its jealous neighbors that were envious of the metal ores and magical gems harbored in the Kirun's mines. Over the years, the settlement turned into a bustling trade city, serving as a regular stop for traders and mercenaries traveling by land between H'kela and Kyoura. While lacking in numbers, their wealth allowed them to outfit their soldiers with the finest weapons. War was their largest business, and for many years having a fighting force led by a Cade almost guaranteed a victory. The warriors of the Kirun were known for their prowess, ferocity, and most important of all, loyalty. Once a contract was signed, the soldiers of the Kirun belonged to the contractor. To a Cade, your word was everything. Yet despite this, the Cade family of the Kirun were still tried and true H'kelans, and as the borders began to set and tensions with Barcea rose they strictly limited their services to their fellow countrymen. As well, the Cades were always a religious family, and believed that a united H'kela under one king was the only true way to worship Danmun. They signed one last contract and swore fealty to the right man, and helped put and keep the king on the throne. Still to this day, their family name is known across all of H'kela and even in its neighboring countries.

This legacy creates an unfortunate problem for Ennis Cade, the youngest and only living son of the current head of the Cade family and Lord of the Kirun. A magically peculiar boy afflicted with what his family referred to as “Kirun's Curse”, Ennis was forced to spend most of his youth bedridden watched over by a court mage. Due to this he (perhaps fortunately) missed much of the typical H'kela childhood for a mage. Even when he capable of casting the spells to keep his affliction at bay and free to venture out in the Kirun he was kept from being pulled into the H'kela military by his father. His two elder brothers had been slain in battle with Barcea, and Lord Cade refused to have his last son put in such a position that risked his life. Instead, he was mentored by his father and learned how to shrewdly handle business and govern a trade city like a true Cade. He took to the politicking and the games that came with dealing with the nobility and the lower classes, and since the war between the two countries was now held at an uncertain ceasefire Ennis felt that even without martial power he could still serve his family and country like his brothers had. He came to his father with his wish to serve as an adviser to the King during peace times, with bright and naive plans to find a way to establish trade and prosperity between the two countries.

His father refused vehemently, but Ennis pressed the issue. The two finally came to a compromise that neither of them initially liked. Ennis was free to go and live in the Capitol of H'kela, his father was free to settle a century long dispute between a rival family by tying them by blood through marriage. New wife in tow, Ennis moved to the Capitol where, thanks to his family name, he was given a position to serve on Gartian's small council. The man gave his word, on his family's name, that he would do everything to help H'kela. Still, despite his intentions his first year was an eventful and difficult one. Orissa, his wife, had a daughter, Avery. Ennis discovered that over the years his family had acquired several “blood feuds”, and his refusal to settle these in duels and overall lack of physical strength quickly labeled him as a coward. Worst of all, Gartian despised the man. The King of H'kela was not looking for ideas for opening up trade or peacefully resolving years and years of conflict with hope that Barcea's new prosperity would leak over. The second year he was forced into remedial administrative and steward duties that were below his position and knowledge. The third year threatened to be a repeat of the second. With the sinking feeling that he was letting his family and his country down, Ennis did the only thing he could do: he persisted. It would be a disgrace to his father to do anything else. Even while serving below his position, he would pester the King whenever he was within earshot with his ideas.

The King finally cracked. Ennis knew that Gartian would probably have any other man killed, but he also knew the King wanted a war. If he was to lose the support of the Cade family he might as well march on Barcea with an outfit of drunks wielding sticks. He agreed to allow Ennis to enter into talks with Barcea. He'd even be promoted to Ambassador, a title that H'kela rarely gave out (due to rarely ever having one). Ennis's elation was short lived. Sure, he could try to convince the Barcean nobles of his peaceful desires, but all final decisions would have to be approved by Gartian. Meaning that Ennis was effectively powerless. Any other man would see this insult as what it was, exile, and back down, but Ennis had given his word. He would help H'kela anyway he could, even if it didn't want it.

His time as Ambassador proved to be as equally ineffective as his time as a councilman, despite having support from the Queen of Barcea. Even if he had managed to convince the Queen’s men to trust him, which he had failed to do, Gartian would’ve ruined that effort once he openly began waging war on Barcea. Ennis was forced back to the Kirun, but not before he promised to raise their troops to assist Barcea in defeating Gartian. However, when he arrived at his home it appeared that his father, who had been keeping agents watching over his son, would not let his son honor his word. However, Lord Cade did not outright throw his support behind Gartian, as the Kirun was beginning to struggle from internal turmoil.

After the death of the Queen of Barcea, Cyril came to claim the aid that Ennis had offered, only to find that the Kirun had been locked down as its non-native populace began to protest against the atrocities that Gartian had committed and against Lord Cade for having helped the man into power in the first place. Lord Cade tried to prevent the Sentinels from taking shelter in the city so that they could recuperate their forces, but Ennis aided them in infiltrating the city and coming to an understanding with his father without shedding a single droplet of blood. The Barceans went on to defeat Gartian and the Advisor, but Ennis and the Kirun’s soldiers were absent from the final battle—his father’s refusal to put his son’s life at risk had been reinforced by Ennis’s behavior, and the soldiers were still squashing the troubles. With Gartian’s defeat the protests that had been occurring in the Kirun came to an end, and Lord Cade and Nia headed to the H’kelan capital to partake in the upcoming moot as well as to retrieve his son’s family. Only Nia came back.

It has been two months since then, and Ennis has not left his family’s manor. Officials cite illness, and apparently he has been governing from his bed.

Personality: Ennis has become a rather disillusioned idealist over the past few months, and he has begun to doubt Danmun as his life seemingly continues to spiral out of control. He is quieter in conversations and more sullen than he used to be, and seems to be more easily frustrated than usual. This does not mean that he lacks his silver tongue, but rather it has gotten a sharpened edge to it that used to be kept sheathed underneath his breath. He is obsessed with the idea of being respected and is seemingly desperate to prove himself to be worthy of his family name, something that he has been doing a great job at mucking up the past few years.

Likes: Commerce, balance, the Kirun, family, control, the sound of his own voice (apparently).

Dislikes: Revali, being seen as weak, literally being weak, truffles.

Skills/Strengths: Ennis is a practiced public speaker. His family name sometimes grants him favorable treatment, especially in H'kela. He has a great amount of wealth he can fall back on if he needs it. Kirun's Curse absorbs any harmful or helpful magic casted upon or near him, preventing him from being effected by the spells and granting him the ability to use them with little effort.

Oh, and he has a small army.

Flaws/Weaknesses: The early years of his affliction have made Ennis a physically weak and sickly man, and when he gets hurt or ill he has to be taken care of the hard way. His family name sometimes grants him unfavorable treatment, especially in H'kela. If Kirun's Curse does not absorb any magic after a few hours then it begins to drain Ennis's own life energy. As well, his peculiar affliction prevents him from “remembering” more than three spells at once, and he is forced to “forget” a spell whenever a new spell is cast upon him. Once a spell is “forgotten” he can never use it again, although he is still immune to the effects. He can only learn spells through Kirun's Curse.

Oh, and his rival has a much bigger army and a very powerful ally backing her.

Equipment: He has a sword that serves as more of an accessory than a weapon, and if he ever travels he has enough gold to buy more than he would ever need.

Appearance: Ennis is a scrawny and unhealthy looking young man who makes up for his unimposing physique with lavish clothes and accessories. The noble wears a well fitted blue, hip-length tunic with gold embroidery over a black velvet shirt with padded shoulders in a somewhat obvious attempt to make him look more masculine. His trousers are a similar dark velvet, his boots look new and shined, and a saber with a jeweled hilt and scabbard is tucked into his belt. His cloak is golden in color, lined with fine furs, and pinned to his shirt with lapis brooches. A black tricorne hat lined with golden trim and large white feather sits on top of his head. His wavy dirty blonde hair is kept about chin length and his eyes are brown. His nose is hooked and looks a little too large for his face. A neatly trimmed beard covers up what would otherwise be a weak jawline.

Theme Songs: Caribou- Can’t Do Without You

Other: Remembered Spells-A spell that creates a blinding light, a spell that can quickly shift earth into barriers, and a spell that makes one speak gibberish.
Forgotten Spells-A rather nasty firestorm one, a healing light, a zone of healing, a ray of frost, magic missiles, and a spell that forced people to tell the truth

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Full Name: Nia Tucela
Occupation: Servant, Soldier, Saboteur, Spy
Birthday: April 9th
Height: 5’4”
Weight: 120 lb
Race: Human
Sex/Gender: Female
Age: 23
Sexuality: Heterosexual
Place of Birth: The Kirun, H’kela

Biography: Nia is the only daughter of the head butler of the Cade family and she spent her youth growing up in the Cade’s palace. Throughout her youth she was the constant companion of Lord Cade’s sickly son, Ennis, until it was discovered that she had a natural magical talent by one of the many rotating court mages that watched over the peculiar boy. Unlike Ennis, Nia was not exempt from H’kelas forced draft of all magically talented individuals, and at the age of twelve she was sent to the capital and enrolled into a military academy so that she could become an asset for their armies. Nia had heard plenty of the nightmarish stories that H’kelan mages whisper about the academies in her youth, and in her state of fear she had tried to run away—a crime punishable by death. She didn’t make it far before she was caught, but her life was spared by Lord Cade because of her friendship with his son. However, Lord Cade was still a strict man, and she was forced to attend the academy for her own “betterment”.

Shockingly, academic life was not an endlessly string of brutality and cruelty, and Nia found herself actually enjoying her training. If she had stayed in the Kirun, she would’ve likely had gone on to become a lady-in-waiting at best; at the academy, she had a chance of becoming something greater. Sure, her instructors were harsh and arrogant and her peers were competitive and cliquey, but she was able to master control over her magic and grew into a powerful fire mage. When she was drafted into the military proper she was given the rank of captain and put in command of a special task force. Mages were often put in charge, because infighting between men from different regions and disobeyed orders were unlikely when the one in charge could immolate a transgressor with the snap of their fingers.

Nia had a successful career leading her unit, especially when it came to acts of military espionage. She helped in putting down any insurgents who tried to rally against Gartian’s rule and worked as a liaison between the military and the bandit forces on the Barcean border before the war with Barcea had started properly. More importantly, she enjoyed her job and the feeling of achievement she earned from it. If she hadn’t received a letter from Lord Cade she would’ve fought against Barcea in the war with full intentions of leaving the country as a smouldering wasteland. In hindsight, Lord Cade saved her life a second time.

His letter commanded her to visit his son and her long lost friend, Ennis, and convince him to return home. Failing to do so, which Lord Cade predicted knowing his son’s nature and his son’s desire to form an allegiance against Gartian, she was to shadow Ennis and to serve as his protector to prevent him from getting himself killed by rubbing his elbows too many times with the enemy. Nia followed Lord Cade’s orders because she owed him her life and met with his son, Ennis. As Lord Cade had predicted, Ennis refused to come home; however, he did ask Nia to rescue his wife and daughter from Gartian’s palace and bring them back to the Kirun. Lying through her teeth, she promised him that she would do so and pretended to leave. If she had known what would’ve happened, perhaps she would’ve listened to her friend’s request instead of following her orders.

Lord Cade arranged for Ennis’s to return home once it became obvious that the boy would bring ruin to the Kirun if he was left in Barcea, and Nia dispatched of any spies working for the Advisor or Gartian that had obtained information about Ennis’s planned betrayal. Nia watched as her friend shrunk back into a little boy after his reunion with his father, but it wasn’t until he asked about the whereabouts of his family that she begun to feel guilty for her actions. She promised Ennis that she would go right away to rescue his family.

However, the war had brought civil unrest to the Kirun, and Lord Cade put the city on lockdown until the troubles were resolved. To leave now would be considered abandoning her post, and Lord Cade made it clear that he would show no remorse to any deserters. Ennis, even without any power, was determined to end the war then, and when Barcean forces came to their door it was with Nia’s assistance that the tired troops were allowed to rest up before their final decisive battle with H’kela. The civil disobedience and the lockdown ended soon after Gartian’s defeat, and Nia accompanied Lord Cade to the H’kelan moot to finally escort Ennis’s family home to him. She barely made it back with her skin intact.

It’s been two months since then, and she will do anything to have her friend forgive her.

Personality: Nia is rather flippant for a person who has a military background, and finds a distinct pleasure in uncovering and pushing people’s buttons to get a rise out of them. She can be a bit of a rumormonger and tends to exaggerate most things when in casual conversation. Despite not always acting as the most serious of people, it is clear to those around her that the woman is rather ambitious, competitive, and highly confident. It’s not infrequent for her confidence to push over the line into downright arrogance, and when mixed with her big mouth it can be a recipe for disaster. Relatedly, she doesn’t necessarily enjoy violence, but she’s not above using it. Generally, she’s a realist when it comes to setting expectations (at least when regarding other people) yet tends to have a rather optimistic approach to handling disappointment.

Likes: Teasing others, listening to music, attending plays, dressing up for a nice evening of dinner and drinks, and crushing losers in competition. She also enjoys making fun of Barcea.

Dislikes: Losing, being talked rudely to despite her own behavior, and people that are better mages than herself. Despite the talk, she actually doesn’t really have any problem with Barcea now that the war’s over.

Skills/Strengths: Nia has specialized in espionage and infiltration, so she can easily get in and out of places she shouldn’t be while avoiding detection. More notably, Nia is a well-trained mage and is capable of creating and controlling fire with her hands. Among other things, she can ignite material that she is touching, spew forth cones of fire, create smoke screens, and chuck those classic fireballs. As a beneficial side effect, she cannot be burnt by flames.

Flaws/Weaknesses: The source of Nia’s fire is her hands, so outside of throwing fireballs (and it’s an actual lob that requires some aim and a good arm, not some magic missile nonsense) her initial range is fairly short until she gets an inferno going. Fire is chaotic, so while creating it is no sweat, controlling large fires will exhaust Nia and, more importantly, she cannot use her magic to smother fires. Also, a girl’s gotta breath, and fire’s pretty keen on hogging all of the oxygen for itself.

Weapons/Equipment: Nia’s only weapon besides her fire is a normal dagger. Otherwise, she carries a telescoping spyglass, several lockpicks, rope with a grappling hook, a pocket mirror, and other basic necessities.

Appearance: Nia clearly puts a great deal of effort in maintaining her appearance. Her long, black hair has a healthy shine to it and it falls just below her shoulders. She is smart in her application of makeup, using it to accentuate her blue eyes and her lips while still keeping her face looking natural instead of painted. Her soft skin is a light alabaster and she has a number of small scars on her body from her years in the H’kelan military. Her body is pear-shaped and she is physically fit. Yet despite her military background, she generally stands with relaxed, casual ease and speaks with a calm, warm voice. When it comes to clothing, Nia generally dresses in dark, somewhat stylish outfits that make her appear taller. Heeled boots, high-waisted pants, v-neck blouses, and short jackets are almost always incorporated in someway or another.

Theme Songs: Wye Oak - Two Small Deaths

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Full Name:
Drosil/Shadar Maeneld
Nicknames/Titles:
Dros for Drosil and Shade for Shadar
Occupation:
Drosil is a Freelance Researcher of the Arcane
Birthday:
October 31st
Height:
Drosil is around 5'11, Shadar is 7'2
Weight:
Drosil is about 158 lbs, Shadar is closer to 250 lbs
Race:
Human
Sex/Gender:
Male
Age:
25
Sexuality:
Drosil is Heterosexual and Shadar is uncertain
Place of Birth:
Jasi
Biography:
Drosil and Shadar have no clue who their mortal parent is, as they were raised in an orphanage run by two kind and caring couple, both of them being followers of The Masked Divine. When Shadar first took over, with only the memories of Drosil to go off on and nothing else, they were the ones to calmly help him assimilate and work out what was going on. They were as clueless and unaware about Shadar's existence as he was, but that was the only thing they seemed clueless of.

As followers of the Masked Divine, they were very good at discovering and keeping secrets, as well as keeping balance among the orphanage, including helping their charges grow into fine adults by I stilling in them virtues and harsh life lessons for as long as they had them. Drosil and Shadar never let themselves be adopted, seeing the couple as their parents, Shadar especially. It couldn't last forever, as Drosil began to show talent in magic, enough so that he was taken to a prestigious university in the capital of their homeland of Jasi, at the age of 15. For the next decade, Drosil buried himself in his studies while also working with Shadar to secretly keep the city a bit safer from crime, teaching his brother spells so that he can better hide his appearance, or amplify it so that he could avoid battles before they have a chance to erupt.

In this time, he became known as a prodigy for his skill in deciphering and using ancient magics, spells that had been incomprehensible for centuries revealing themselves to him within minutes. His findings were alwats spectacular, so much so that he was given the rate occupation of a Freelance researcher, a Mage whose given access to all ruins and digs no matter what company or organization is working on it so that he may work his magic. It was this position that have set him and his brother on to the beginning of their adventure.

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The start of their current and most challenging adventure would be in the plains of the Barcean Wilds, where they met the Prince and princess of the land as they patrol with a retinue of soldiers under the kings command. While the initial meeting was a bit unorthodox, what with Drosil being attacked by robotic land-sharks at the time, he found himself tied up in their Royal affairs, tagging along for reasons of curiosity at first, but as time went on, it became more of a draw to the events that seemed to center on the young prince.

Outwardly, he thought of it as him having some bigger role to play in the universe, but in his subconcious mind, it was more related to the draw of power. His hidden ambitions, grand as they were, seemed like nothing but pipe dreams for so long, but as he saw amazing and experienced great horror and wonder with the group, in the back of his mind, he felt that maybe just maybe, his dreams would come true after all.

As it was, the road traveled by the prince was not an easy one. Several times the young summoner courted the void, barely surviving thanks to the magic he surrounded himself in, and in some cases, the friendships he forged along the way. He's been possessed, stabbed, dissected, and even burned into a pile of ashes on this journey, going through ungodly amounts of pain in service to the prince, but he has refused to let it stop him. He has refused to let anything get in the way of his ambitions.

However, the last battle against the Advisor, which saw him take to his highest and darkest level of magical mastery yet, and it proved all for naught against this woman. Not only that, but after the battle's end, the cost of the grand magic he used began to show. The demonic features that he had worn in battle faded away to show ravaged and disfigured flesh where the shadows had lain upon him, as well as several terrible, self-inflicted wounds spread out across his body along with the ones given to him by the Advisor. The magic infused into his soul helped keep him alive, but he lost his arm and one of his eyes as a result, not to mention that his own magical powers seemed to wane more and more as days pass. He had delved into deep and terrible forces in his preparation to take the witch's head, but it had all been for naught, leaving him to pay for the consequences for his actions.

While he tries to play of his situation, his brother Shadar knows exactly how his brother is feeling, and worries where it might drive him. Having suffered greivous injury himself during the battle, Shadar is no-longer as much the power-house that he used to be. His armored exoskeleton is cracked and weak, and despite the best efforts of healers, several shards of his armor still remained lodged beneath his skin, causing him great pain at a constant rate. The main probem with healing shadar is that his body heals at an incredibly slow rate compared to humans, and it's short of a miracle he's in any kind of fighting shape at all. Unlike his brother, who is bitter and spiteful about the events of the battle, Shadar is just glad to be alive, though certainly humbled by the experience. Due to Drosil's foul mood and Shadar;s need for constant treatment of some kind to help facilitate the healing process, Shadar now spends a majority of his time in the real world, a prospect he's still getting the hang of.

However, even injuries like what he suffered that day didn't stop Shadar from pursuing his passion, and he put it to good use. All around his room are pieces in various states of completion showcasing various scenes of the battle, drawn either from memory or first-hand accounts of those who experienced or beheld the most spectacular moments of the battle. From common soldiers dealing battle against undead hordes to the Grand battle between Cyril and Gartian, no tale of heroism proved too seemingly insignificant to keep Shadar from depicting it in as stunning detail as he could manage.

Personality:
Drosil is a bit of an idealist, always wanting to do the right thing, sometimes even when it's the stupid thing. He knows that sometimes it's not the best thing to be the righteous one, but he'll be dammed if he lets that stop him. he wants to use magic to awaken the world to glorious new possibilities, to raise the people up into a glorious age of magic and technology.

---

After the events of the first Arc, Drosil has lost a good deal of his idealism. The death of Kori, who was by far the most pure and good ruler he'd ever had the pleasure of meeting, symbolically symbolized the death of his ideals. In her death at the hands of gartian, he sees that the only way to get things done in this world is to get your hands dirty in the filth and mud, to do things that others would never dream off in order to get results.

Because of this shift in mindset, he's become a bit more closed off then before, though stil rather talkative. His sense of justice remains as strong as before, but at times it may be overshadowed by his hatred for evil and corruption.

Shadar is the more grounded of the two, always telling Drosil that he needs to keep his head down to earth and deal with the here and now, rather then the future, or he might not live to see it become a reality. He's also rather cold to most people, not because he dislikes them, but because he's actually very shy. He's never really done much in the ways of talking, even to his own brother, as their only source of communication to each other is through notes. He also feels jealous of Drosil, as he gets to be out most of the time, leaving Shadar alone with his thoughts in the empty void he goes to when he's not in control. He feels that the gods are cruel and laugh at him, for that's the only reason he can find in his freakish, almost hellish appearance.

---

After the events of the first arc, Shadar was faced with a small crisis of his own. For the first time in his life, the natural strength and resilience had failed him. He'd been beatened down so thoroughly that he'd called out to the gods for assistance. Instead of taking this defeat to heart, however, Shadar has taken the pain and despair of the experience to remind him that despite his monstrous abilities, he is still mortal and far from strong enough to just rest on his laurels. While nothing has changed as far as his outward behavior, he's started to train more, as much as his body allows him to at the moment anyway.

Likes:
Drosil is fond of learning all kinds of new things, and is an avid reader and writer, his pencil never far from his hand

Shadar is much more artistic, generally finding peace in sculpting, painting, or drawing. He usually does landscapes, as he often doesn't get the chance to talk to and ask people for their portraits. Though he can take form his brother's memories to inspire him if there is ever the chance.

Dislikes:
Drosill has a thing for messes, hating to see things be disorganized or excessively dirty. He also despises standing still and doing nothing, as he always has to keep himself preoccupied with some sort of activity.

Shadar dislikes loud noises and loud people, prefering peace and quiet that allows him to focus more on his art. He also shares a great dislike for religious people, if only because of his own problems with the gods.

Skills/Strengths:
Drosil is a mage of great power, being able to learn all kinds of Arcane mysteries thanks to the gift of his father(?) that gave him the abilities to uncover any and all mysteries of the Arcane, all magical knowledge he rest his eyes upon become revealed to him in their infinite complexities. Of the magics he knows, he specializes in summoning creatures to his aid, be they of natural or mystical origin. He also has some offensive and defensive elemental spells.

Shadar is a very strong warrior, his scales being just as good, if not somewhat better, than steel armor, and lacking the hinderance in movement. His strength is greater than that of any mortal man, enabling him to lift men with ease, and move giant boulders if he really puts the effort in. He's also a good fighter, able to do combat with the best of them due to his brother shouldering the burden of training himself in martial skills. This was done during the last five yeas of their life, as Drosil realized that his brother was lacking proper instruction, even though he wanted it dearly. So not only does he have a good deal of Arcane knowledge, but he's a good fighter in the physical sense as well, though this is more in the technical and skill sense rather than physical power. Shadar has taken knowledge his brother has learned and trained himself with it to better his own natural physical abilities.

Along with his physical abilities, Shadar has some more s supernatural ones as well. First, he knows magic as well, though it focuses on casting illusions on himself to alter how people perceive him, mostly to make him seem more menacing or less noticeable. Lastly, he has a form of empathy that let's him tell if people are feeling prone to violence or are becoming unhinged or unbalanced. It makes for a great early warning for when dealing with someone whose about to launch an attack out of nowhere

As Divineborn, both Shadar and Drosil possess the power of creation, though they differ in how they use it. Shadar is able to more easily form weapons, while Drosil's ability focuses more on Magical Items such as staves, wands, and rune stones that can be used to help cast and strengthen spells cast with them.

Flaws/Weaknesses:
Drosil, while a skilled mage and capable fighter when the time arrives, is often to brash or bold and is likely to get in the way with his antics if he gets caught in the middle of a battle. Also, he's a bit clumsy, tripping over his own two feet at times and has nearly lost his head due too such ineptitude.

Shadar, while able to move better than most heavily armored combatants, is still not that agile, and has a few weak points in his scale armor, like the joints in his armpits and one in the back of his knee. While small, these can lad to him getting seriously injured is he's hit there, which is why e tends to be cautious fighter, sometimes overly so, not always willing to take the necessary risks in combat.

Weapons/Equipment:
Drosil carries several blank books, notepads, food rations, a canteen, a tent and sleeping bag, a magic pistol that furred a single shot and takes some time to reload, a set of traveling clothes inscribed with protection runes that make it as tough as the best of leather armor with no sacrifice to mobility, and a staff he made that can absorb dmspell cast on it, then launch them at a target, only having been enhanced by the staff's properties.

Shadar has a belt to holster his two short swords, a backpack filled with art supplies, his own food rations, and his own set of notepads and writing utensils. He also bears a great sword that he made himself through his abilities that is strong enough to hold against even the mightiest of his blows, and yet never lose it's edge.

Appearance:
Drosil is a tallish man, skinny but reasonably fit. His skin is a light tannish color, though it's still a bit pale since he spends a lot of time inside. His strange black snd white hair(which is slightly luminescent) is almost always in a mess, his eyes a sparkling mixture of golden hazel and a brilliant emerald green. His features are good-looking for the most part, his face can be a bit angular at times. He's got a few scars on him, but not that many.

Shadar is a very tall humanoid figure that is covered in scales from head to toe that resemble a strange foley kind of armor. His eyes glow a menacing red from the depths of his sockets and his mouth is hidden begins two retractable face plates, looking human enough that it really clashes with the rest of him. His hands and feet both end in claws, though the ones on his hands can be retracted, which allows him to use a sword with ease. His scales are a deep black in coloration, with a purple tint coating his claws.

Theme Songs:
A fun little extra I always like to include.

Other:
For anything I may have forgot.

Main or Side: Main
Username:Raijinslayer

Full Name: Godfrey Hildebrand
Nicknames/Titles: He's been called the Earl of Poisons, but he prefers simply Godfrey.
Occupation: Godfrey is a chemist, making medicines and useful compounds as a daytime cover. His specialty is toxicology, however, and he pays the bills as a curator of a collection of rare, exotic, and deadly poisons, which he administers to those who need... disciplined, we'll say.
Birthday: April 14
Height: Just shy of 6 feet tall
Weight: 135 pounds naked, but his fineries and equipment bring him to nearly 145.
Race: Human
Sex/Gender: Male
Age: 23
Sexuality: Selective. If he deems someone pretty by his specific standards, no matter how they align themselves, he will be interested.
Place of Birth: Kyora
Biography: Godfrey was born to a well-to-do family in Kyora, where the three countries meet. Until the upheaval 15 years ago, his family held a manor house, where Godfrey was schooled by private tutors and his manservant Bertram in the proper ways to behave as an heir to the House. However, even though he was the only son of the manor, he was born out of wedlock, and as such his father treated him in the same manner as he would the servants of the household. His mother had, as he had been told for years, "perished of a septic wound* when he was quite young, so he was left primarily in the care of his manservant (except for the not-infrequent times when his father wished to show him discipline with the switch or the strap).

While it was expected that he would never work, because to sully his hands would make him worth even less to the House, Godfrey took up an interest in medicine as a reaction to the thought that his mother could have been saved if only the doctors had known better. With the help of Bertram, he took a tutor in chemistry as a young boy, where he excelled in the science. Far from his original intentions, however, his fascination drifted from medicines to poisons-- neurotoxins, curares, anti-inhibition drugs, the whole lot. It was far, far easier for him to synthesize a toxin that proved effective than to engineer a medicine against such a thing, and he found himself growing more and more toward the darker side of the science. It was when the good Doctor under which he studied introduced him to the concept of alchemical science that Godfrey suddenly bloomed-- if he could use normal science to cause exacting effects to the human body, then what could this metaphysical near-magic offer him, as well?

Once the conflict started back up, his father insisted that they stay in the manor house and defend it-- nothing was more important than the House, "least of all you, boy." Godfrey responded by introducing his father to an alchemically-altered cordyceps, and watched as he climbed to the top of the house's highest peripet, shambling to the edge and, with great effort contrariwise, threw himself to the ground, smashing his head into the stone pathway. He disappeared, taking a large portmanteau of his chemical tools and supplies with him, into the relative safety of one of the bigger cities in Barcea proper, where he developed a reputation as the young boy with the golden eyes and the poison touch. His manservant Bertram, too, disappeared, but try as he might, Godfrey could find neither hide nor hair of his beloved companion.

He took up residence in the streets of the city, and using his talents as a scientific and alchemical virtuoso, was soon able to gather enough resources to afford a shopfront, from which he sold his medicines and tinctures during the day, and slept in at night. The time he did not spend in chemical pursuits was spent evenly between the practice of fencing, which Bertram had loved so and which Godfrey learned almost by osmosis until he was an accomplished formal duelist, and sleeping around... So long as they met his ever-changing tastes that week.

Personality: Godfrey is the kind of person one would expect to see at a fancy bar, with a snifter of brandy, sitting at a table in a dimly-lit corner.　He is not one to shy away from conflivt, but will do his best to avoid actual violence because he's not built for it. When it comes to a formal one-on-one duel, with sword or pistol, he is more than capable of winning, but in the heat of a fistfight or a battlefield, his modus operandi is to run away retreat to a safe location. His taste in lovers changes almost constantly, based primarily on what color of hair or style of dress he finds attractive that week. He is charming, perhaps frighteningly so, but romantically he is largely incapable of sustaining a relationship with anyone for more than a few weeks at most. He gets bored too quickly.

Likes: Poisons, lace, pretty things, good licquor, a fireplace with a plush armchair next to it and a violinist nearby, kissing, receiving money for a job well done.
Dislikes: The sound of glass breaking, being made to wear uncomfortable clothes, people who don't take themselves seriously enough, being made fun of, magicians thinking that their arts aren't just fancy science.
Skills/Strengths: Godfrey's only supernatural ability is an affinity for making use of classical alchemy in his chemical pursuits, allowing for the production of things like temporary mind-control drugs, undetectable poisons, and causing grotesque or eldritch effects upon the poison having taken effect. Combat-wise, he's decent with a saber, rapier, or foil but nothing heavier, and has experience using pistols for dueling purposes and by extension general use. He has considerable skill in medicine and can generally stabilize patients and fix wounds or sicknesses, given enough time to treat them.
Flaws/Weaknesses: He is a slightly frail individual, in exchange for having the knowledge and dexterity he has accumulated. His family line has a history of hemophilia, so he takes any injury he receives far more seriously than others would for the same level of intensity. His only self-consciousness comes from the scars that were left by his father's discipline, which spread over a large portion of his back. To that end, he has an aversion to being without some kind of shirt or jacket, even during intimate moments. He is firmly of the opinion that all magic is just science applied in fantastic ways, and will do his absolute best not to judge magicians who don't believe in science.

Weapons/Equipment: Godfrey's go-to weapon of last resort is a saber that belonged to his manservant, which he will carry at night or when in dangerous locales. He usually has with him at least 5 vials of varying poisons and their corresponding antidotes , ranging in intensity from mild paralysis or nausea to near-instant death. At his shop, he has many different chemical and alchemical tools at his disposal.

Appearance: He generally wears decently-fine clothes, opting for black doe-skin breeches, low ankle boots, a button-up with minor lace trim, and a double-breated heavy wool or leather jacket (depending on the weather, of course) when out and about, and in his own company or that of people he likes, simple light cotton trousers and baggy shirts. He stands just under 6 feet tall, slim and lithe, with black hair that just barely touches his collar in back. He likes to wear fancy hats, one of his vices, but only if they complement his only abnormal physical feature, his golden-yellow irises. His skin is pale-white, but not milk- or paper-white. He is clean-shaven and tends to keep his hair parted. He holds himself like an aristocrat would while on above-board business, but when on a darker kind of job, he tends to change his posture to look more gaunt and threatening. While it is unlikely that others will see them, across his bad are a great number of slightly discolored scar marks, evidence of having been struck by implements made for punishment over a period of several years.
Theme Songs: Brian Cranston's "Imagining," Franz Liszt's "Danse Macabre"

Inspirations: Long ago, when the four nations still lived in harmony, I played in a game set on a space station that orbited the multiverse, where people were plucked from their realities and deposited onto this station because they would be useful to the Rebellion against the totalitarian race of space tyrants. It was a canon-into-AU styled game, and I chose to play as Earl Cain Hargreaves, of Godchild fame. The character lasted there for almost three years. This character is based off of an alternatie version of that character who was himself an alternate version of the canon one.
Main or Side: Main character
Username: Arcanestatic

Full Name: Nasir na Jahlin K'heldra
Nicknames/Titles: The Warmind
Occupation: Commander of The Queensguard
Birthday: January 7th
Height: 6'
Weight:190 lbs
Race: H'kelian
Sex/Gender: Male
Age: 52
Sexuality: Heterosexual
Place of Birth: Capital city of H'kela
Biography:
In the great kingdom of H'kela everyone must pay their dues and serve the royal family. This is even more true when you show talent for the magic arts. It is the honor of all mages to serve in the glorious armies of H'kela and crush it's enemies. This was the philosophy and the fate of Nasir from a young age. The boy, born to a minor noble family, showed great promise not only in the virtues of war but also the magical fields. He seemed to have an innate understanding of combat and how to use his strange talents to better bring his comrades to victory. This first manifested when the boy was in his early teens in one of the many boarding homes for soldiers in training. The boys were placed into squads and pitted against other squads in games of war and wit. Nasir quickly discovered that his magical talent lent itself well to supporting and leading his team to victory after victory. At their graduation the boys had become men and the men were placed in the elite forces of the former king. They soared with pride.

Years of war followed. Small skirmishes and border raids mostly. No matter how small the engagements, Nasir, treated every battle or operation with the same professionalism and seriousness. His leadership talents were quickly recognized and soon he found himself advising generals and even meeting the king. During that time he lost friends. Old friends and new. Men were made to form bonds of brotherhood on the field of war and that bond was doomed in the end. Nasir felt each loss as though these men were his brothers in truth but never disrespected their memory by letting such things stop him from fighting and protecting the new brothers he had made or soon would. Eventually his career reached what seemed like a zenith. He was placed as the second in command of the king's guard.

His appointment soon took a turn toward darkness though as the king took on a new adviser. Nasir disliked her immediately. She drew the king close and stole his ear entirely. As she drew the cloak of unilateral control around her she dismissed the king's guard. These men were the best soldiers in the kingdom. They had trained and earned their place. To be cast aside was a great insult to them and H'kela. Yet, they did not defect. No. They stood tall and defended their kingdom against the forces of evil that struck out from their cowardly neighbors. They fought hard and in many battles. Their efforts were not enough though and eventually it seemed like the great H'kelian people would be naught but slaves to these soft green-landers. Nasir saw the king die on the field of battle and neither fate nor fist could have stopped it. It was to be. This was not yet the end of him nor his people. For in that fateful battle the witch of an adviser revealed herself to be the monster Nasir knew her to be. In the end, even she was brought low.

H'kela would survive. It would become stronger even. It had a new ruler. A queen now with, hopefully, enough sense to see the threats that would circle her. She did, at the very least, have the vision to see what an asset a guard company made of steel-hard men could do. She saw their worth and man who would lead them best. His body was aged now. His strength not what it once was. However, his mind had seemed only to sharpen in the crucible of chaos. Nasir swore a new oath to his Queen and selected the brothers whom he knew well to be his new followers. The Queensguard was established and honor would be restored to H'kela.

Personality:
Nasir is a hard man and an old one now. His ways are set and he has no intention of changing them. He has spent his entire life, both adult and young, fighting for his kingdom and he believes in that with his whole heart. He is a patriot and a nationalist. H'kela stands as an example of how to rule and all others should be smart enough to recognize this. The Warmind is a man of honor above all things. When he speaks he speaks truth and when he gives his word he will not break it. However, Nasir is also rather fatalistic. He knows that his efforts will be guided by fate and if they are meant to succeed they will, if they are meant to fall they must. This does not curb his effort however. Nasir does everything he knows how to do with the obsessive focus of a perfectionist and does not tolerate laxness or failure without first giving the task everything you had.
Likes:
- The heat
- Music
- Competition of any kind.
- Honesty
- The perfect execution of a stratagem.
- Competent leaders
- Obedient Soldiers
Dislikes:
- Repeating himself
- Drunks or drinking
- Liars
- Cultures aside from H'kelan
- The sound of 'Green-lander' languages
- Insubordination
- Self-important civilians
- Large amounts of water
- The cold
Skills/Strengths:
- Cohesion: The fore-most and most useful of Nasir's abilities is refereed to just as Cohesion. This spell takes a small incantation and a few hand signs performed with the left hand. During which Nasir targets up to nine other people he can see and sends out his mental energies. When the incantation is complete the targets can either agree or disagree to the cohesion. If they do agree those individuals become connected in an 'Overmind'. The Overmind is a magical construct that allows all the people in Cohesion to not only communicate telepathically as long as they are within 100 yard of each other and even share their senses. One of the most impressive things this ability does though is allow each person to share their knowledge base and make speed-of-thought corrections to others in cohesion. This allows each member in Cohesion to fight like the best warrior in the group or each of them to have the senses of a thief when sneaking through a palace if one is in Cohesion.

- God's-Sight: This spell is a simple one that allows Nasir to stretch his vision far beyond the human norm. He can see object clearly up to a mile away and through light smoke and darkness.

- Raw Magic: Nasir is very skilled at calling the forces of magic to him and has found an interesting use for those energies. While not formed into spell this energy can still be used. It can released as a quick burst in order to strike a foe with a force something like a human kick up to a few yards away from him. However, it may also be channeled into any object he is holding or wearing making it ridged and harder than steel. Often he uses this to pierce a foes armor and then quickly release the force into the newly created wound tearing the flesh on the inside into a horrid paste.

- Sorcerous Training: Nasir is trained and comfortable in the ways of magic and can help and understand the spells of others. He is by no means a magical genius but if needed he can assist in rituals, spells, and even understanding the uses of magic in the area.

- Veteran Warrior: Nasir has had intense training and even more experience in the martial arts. He is an expert in the use of most battlefield weapons, hand-to-hand, and, comfortable in armor even when worn for very expended periods of time.

Flaws/Weaknesses:
- Age: Nasir might be a warrior of great skill and a mage of some power but he is an old man now. His body is not as strong as it once was and he heals much more slowly. Likely, if Nasir took a serious wound he would never be able to fight again without the aid of magical healing. His joins are weak and any damage to them is far more dangerous than it would be to a younger man.

- Cold Iron Mind: Nasir has lived his life in structure and rules. Those rules made him the man he is today and he has no intention of changing or entertaining new ideas. He is unreceptive of new things and sometimes down right hostile to changes.

Weapons/Equipment:
- Weapons: Long bladed partisan spear, jambia dagger, one handed arming sword.
- Armor: A steel arming skull-cap, Short sleeved riveted mail shirt, steel shin grieves, All is covered by thick cotton robes to help absorb impact and deflect blades.
Appearance:
Nasir is not an overly imposing figure compared with most other professional soldiers. He stands at six feet tall, with broad shoulders, and the tell tale lithe musculature of someone accustomed to marching and body weight exercise. The lion's share of his height is made up by his long legs which give him a long, almost loping, stride. His posture is utterly impectable and he prefers to stand at parade rest when not moving. His skin is a deep brown just like his eyes. His gaze is a melding between a constant glare and looking like he is always searching for enemies, which he is. His thin lips are circled by a medium length well kept full beard. His hair is quite long, falling to just below the middle of his back and always pulled into a long low braid to keep it out of his way. His skin is covered by the expected criss crossing of scars from the innumerable battles Nasir has fought in.

His clothing is that of a H'kela soldier. A thin padded jacket is buttoned over his normal light silken robes. Over the jacket sits his mail. Wrapped over all the armor and the rest of his body is a thick off-white robe concealing the armor, keep the sun off his skin, and adding some extra protection for him. On his head sits his steel skull cap over the hood of his light robe and over that a wrap of white cloth with a black face veil denoting his rank. At his waist sits a heavy sword belt holding his arming sword and dagger, keeping the whole robe together.


Importance: Main
Theme Songs: Can't Kill Us - The Glitch Mob
Inspirations: Amon am Jardir am Kaji - Demon Cycle Series
Username: Big Dread

Full Name: Kaishu Yarinaosu.

Nicknames/Titles: The Silver Prodigy. | Princess Kaishu/Yarinaosu

Occupation: A diplomat-turned-prisoner of the High Justice of Bellamy, and thus reluctantly turned hunter of the creatures that have turned into a plague spreading over the world.

Birthday: February 14th.

Height: 5’7”.

Weight: 132 lbs.

Race: Divineborn/human. (½ Divineborn down the line)

Sex/Gender: AFAB (assigned female at birth). Pronouns are she/they.

Age: 16/17 years of age.

Sexuality: Demisexual, panromantic, but right now she’s not mentally in a place to screw around with any sort of romance.

Place of Birth: Kisoku of the Western coast, a province-like settlement that rests on the ocean.

Biography:

The history of Cantian is one of ancient origin, of which the story changes each time it is told. As skewed as its history may be, though, it always has the same beginning:

It begins with a brother and a sister. Divineborn Twins, the stories say, with names long forgotten.

The story says that the two lived a tempestuous life. While the brother was bathed in gifts of the sun, the sister was always bathed in the dark shadow of the moon. He traveled, saw the world, while she sat back and watched him grow without her. Watched him make bonds without her. She didn’t understand the appeal, stories say. They say she lived envious and covetous of her brother, that she would gladly crush the world under her thumb if it meant being with him forever.

Her brother didn’t want that, though. With blade on his hip and the wind at his back, this boy went on to the place where he would become the apprentice to a very peculiar and terrifying Master. For years he would be there, and for years she would stay in place, burning with writhing malice in the pit of her chest until finally… she would break.

The story, from here, is never the same. They say that one of the twins made a pact with the Moon. That She blessed the two of them with the ability to see each other after death, but only once, and under Her own circumstances. The Moon asked only one thing of the twin in return for this power: a promise that, no matter who they became, they would still relish the night skies and all their radiant beauty.

Another story tells of a similar tale. One of the twins seeks audience with the Moon, wishing for solace against the evil that Cantian will fall prey to. Justly, She gave the twin the power that they wished, and asked only one thing in return: a promise that, no matter who they became, they would still relish the night skies and all their radiant beauty.

The history of the Yarinaosus and their destruction of Cantian is one of great tragedy, and one skewed throughout generations of trying to sugarcoat the obvious. However, it always has the same ending:

In a violent and magical display, the twins destroyed each other. The witch tore her way into her brother’s soul, and her brother tore them both to shreds. The Abyss erupted, splitting his body and his soul, and splitting hers in turn. Together, they were caught in the cataclysm that made Cantian and all around it a wasteland, barren of most life. Any survivors moved on to Bu’zai, and even Kisoku… but, silently, they took their history and made it the guiding force of their lives.

Later in life, they would begin to realize that the Moon had gotten what She wanted. Never could their lineage look from the moon in the starry night skies. The witch was bound to the blood moon, plaguing their dreams and nightmares with singing, yearning for the brother that she misses so much, while the apprentice faded from history, supposedly erased once and for all.

In the end, those that remember the travesty of Cantian realized somewhere deep along the line, that those blessings that were meant to help the two twins were those that brought them to ruin and curse in the first place.

---

The land of Kisoku was brimming with fortune, strength, and bounty. A province wrapped in good karma and ruled over by a benevolent woman, it was a haven for any and all means of visitors, from simple adventurers to esteemed diplomats. They were an ally to all who needed them - at least, until their ruler passed from harrowing illness, and the torch moved on to her husband.

Kaishu’s mother died when the child was only five years old. It was a trying, cacophonous chord that struck the province, washing it over with grief. She was divine, radiant, and strong, whereas Fumiya, who married into the same name… was not. He could never hold a torch to Maki’s wisdom and well-meaning. He pulled away from all treaties and ties associated with Kisoku in favor of political safety. He shunned the east, and embraced the west, sent his son and Kaishu’s only brother across the borders to Bu’zai, not wanting to see the visage of someone who looked so much like his wife. All the while, he turned his province into a war machine. He created soldiers to send to war, innocent fathers and mothers all turned to aid one of the most drastically rising superpowers in the west - Mazura.

Kaishu was the ideal footsoldier. Her roots, her body, her blood - it was all made, in Fumiya’s eyes, to be used. She was worked to the bone, until the soles of her feet bled and her hands calloused. He watched her endlessly, but in turn, she was ignored. It was… a lonely existence, trapped there. She trained and studied endlessly, mastered every weapon they put in her hand without thinking much about it. Prodigy or not, she was a hard worker. She bled herself dry for him, sweat herself faint for him, and worked her ass off to be as strong, as capable as she is now. For him. And even then, he brushed her off. When Fumiya didn’t ignore her, it was when she was running away, attempting to shatter those shackles that held her down. It was when she acted out, erupted at him after bottling for so long… and she was met with violence. She absorbed it, and made those beatings and that yelling of his the coal to her fire.

When she began growing into her broken skin, she began to realize just what her mother and her meant to that man she called ‘father’. Their curses made them vassals for some higher power that they didn’t quite understand. Every blood moon was reminiscent of that. The fasting, the sleepless week alone - it all got easy the more she grew. She began growing accustomed to that singing in her ears, and heard it in her dreams, too, even after the moon once more turned white. She was sick of herself, in the end of it all.

In the end, the princess stopped caring. Her training was for her, and silently, she plotted the angles of her way out until she finally gave up after so many tries, with so little results. And so ended the story of Kaishu Yarinaosu, a girl fated to rot in a war she wants no part in.

---

… Or so it would have seemed. Kaishu’s story didn’t end, nor has it even now. Instead, the pages of her growing book turned towards the East all over again. Years without ties until one fateful letter from the Earl of Bellamy. A wish to reconnect, to strengthen their bonds between not only them, but Barcea once more. It was a surprise to anyone when Fumiya accepted the invitation to their spring tournament, but Kaishu knew it was for only one purpose, and followed through with what was requested of her without struggle.

Bellamy was… beautiful. Even if she wasn’t enthused about being forced into fights she didn’t want to participate in, the prospect of travelling sent sparks into her heart. She was quietly ecstatic, itching to explore the three Dominions… but of course, it was off the table. So she sulked by her father’s side and went along demure, silent, and burning for exploration.

It was in the First Dominion where she met who would become her keeper - Remigia Bellamy, and her father, the Earl. Weirdos, is what Kaishu thought of them. And she wasn’t wrong. Her time in Bellamy thereafter was spent perusing the estate of the Earl and his children, finally away from her father, but under the helpful, and jarring gaze of the Second Commander. Remy was… talkative, something Kaishu was never very fond of. The constant contact and badgering made her nervous, even anxious. But some part of her… liked the feeling of companionship, even for a little, and even if those feelings dwindled into a pitch black malice.

After sights were seen and fun was had, Kaishu was back to training under the watchful gaze of her father. Her power with the Abyss was growing. Every use brought a sensation of familiarity that she couldn’t place, but could all the same. She knew it was that part of her, that segment that was still him. Kaishu knew her roots were helping her ease into this growing power, and she used that to her advantage. Those teachings that Kazue once had were hers, too… at least to an extent. Time drew on with her practices, and soon… it was time for the tournament.

It was a gloomy day for that particular date. Thunder was cracking and the sun was masked. The battlefield in the Second Dominion’s was bloodied, broken… the gauntlet was thick before the tournament, a free-for-all that even Remy participated in, filled to the brim with contenders of all nationalities. When it came to the tournament… once the free-for-all deciding matches were finished, the top 16 were drawn. Very easily, Kaishu ascended to the top brackets, pushing and pushing herself past the strongest of Bellamy’s, Gurata’s and even Barcea’s strongest fighters. The stress was killer. She could feel his eyes watching her, bearing into her back. Every misstep every close call she had. Every sloppy move she knew, she knew he could see it, and she knew he would never let her go. She was burning up inside and she couldn’t tell why.

Her final opponent was Remigia herself. But as Kaishu stood there across from her, she could feel herself… slipping. The sensation made her spin, but regardless, she raised her weapon. Everything felt muted, blurred. Just the thought of Fumiya in the stands made her blood boil. She engaged in combat, fierce and nonstop against Remigia’s fighting style. The two clashed almost beautifully together with their different, yet similar styles. Alas, not all could go according to plan.

She was just so angry. Suddenly angry to be here, to be fighting, to be watched. The jeering and cheering of the crowds was making her ill, and in the end, she just couldn’t take it. The world burned away, but her aim was perfect.

Kaishu took spear in hand, and as the first drop of rain fell that day, she launched it through the air hard enough to cut through the growing winds

Like that, everything was silent as the spear cracked through the protective box around Fumiya, and burrowed into his chest.

---

The gunshot that rang out amongst screams and gasps bled in one ear, and right out the other for Kaishu. She was sweating and nauseous and when she finally came to, the first thing she saw was her father’s body slumping out of his seat and down onto the battlefield with a thick slap of blood. But she didn’t have time to focus on it as Remy began to yank her from the stadium, and as evacuation was called to begin. It was hard to concentrate, but she thought that if she did… she could see tears dropping back from Remy’s cheeks.

Kaishu wasn’t met with information, but shackles and an empty room inside of the High Court. She couldn’t speak, feeling herself bleeding into the scenery as, silhouetted in the doorway, the High Judge herself and the Second Commander both discussed their plans of action. She had no idea what to do. Run, cry, vomit. The prodigy was spinning black and white inside of her head, trying to ignore the splashes of red she remembered from that body that were making her chest ache so much.

The High Judge approached with metal heels clicking. Kaishu couldn’t help but look to the massive greatsword at her hip, before up to her burning crimson eye and the metal eyepatch melded to her skin. So many questions flooded her way, and so many she just couldn’t answer. Soon, it all built up, and Kaishu broke down. Her wails were surprising to mother and child standing in the room with her, and her tears felt like they were burning into her skin.

Soon, though, they faded. She was taken to a more comfortable sitting room. Remy was distraught, pale, visibly shaken, but the High Judge was composed. The situation was simple to understand when the clouds in her mind cleared. The Earl was assassinated, and she was the prime suspect. Both killings were too close together, too coincidental. Either she was a distraction, or someone was a very good coordinator. They thought they knew who, too, but… it wasn’t so simple. The people were crying for punishment.

Though Kaishu didn’t like it, the High Judge appointed Remy to her to keep an eye on her, and to guide her through the endlessly growing docket of criminal activity in Bellamy’s borders, and even further into the Dragon Plains. Her status as a prisoner of circumstance was branded to her with a rune, and Remy with the very same one. Connected now, Kaishu finds herself traveling with Remy under the High Judge’s orders, picking apart the growing order of a monstrous cult ruminating within Bellamy’s core.

And even with the circumstance being what it is, it seems like all that calculating Kaishu did over the years wasn’t for naught in the end.

Personality:

Through years of physical and verbal abuse, Kaishu’s mental health has become extremely volatile, forcing her to be a very ‘black and white’ person. She either feels very good, or doesn’t feel good at all. She uses her icy shell as a defense mechanism, and has grown very paranoid of others from plenty of beatings and attempted assassinations on her person. She comes off as very melancholic at times, her personality going from very extreme to very washed out in no time flat. Despite this, Kaishu has no inferiority complex, or anything like that - she is actually very hard to break down in the terms of ‘willpower’, often being very stubborn and unrelenting over certain matters.

Deeper than blood, though, Kaishu finds talking to others very, very hard. She’s very ill-suited for environments/attitudes she’s not used to, which make her feel very out of place and disconnected from reality. She’s actually fairly timid despite her blustering when she gets flustered by something and past her rampant, natural paranoia. Once you get to know her, she’s actually not that bad - a little rough around the edges and a little bit too self-conscious about her own strength and worth, but a normal, anxious teenager to the core.

Though she might come off as stoic and emotionless, this… actually isn’t true at all. If there’s anything noteworthy about Kaishu, it’s that she’s too emotional when it all boils down to it. She feels things much, much deeper on a much more personal level than normal people, especially certain emotions and feelings like anger, love, and sadness. Even when she doesn’t know someone for long, the smallest positive reinforcement can send her into overdrive, while even the smallest transgression can aggro her. While she fears people seeing her sorrowful because of her complexes, she’s not afraid to cry or show a little passion - and Kaishu has plenty of passion, and is especially sentimental at times when she’s able to be.

She holds strength of being and character in the highest regards, mostly because that was how she was raised. Right now, Kaishu does believe that the strong devour the weak, but her stance on it is a bit frail, though she’d never bring this to light. Strength was always a make-or-break type of thing in her way of being raised, and she still believes that if she cannot grow, or get stronger, she has no purpose being alive. She is always, always growing. There’s not a second that Kaishu isn’t bettering herself in these ways, and not a second that she isn’t learning. Being a natural-born prodigy, she’s got a knack for picking up examples and techniques set by other people and picking up concepts fairly easily. This obviously comes to a mental fault, where she puts more merit in how she performs physically than how she does mentally.

Likes: rainy days, moonlit nights, the prospect of having wings, roses, the abyss, the feeling of blood soaked on her leggings, the exhilaration of battle, the sweet taste of candies, and the lord that opened her eyes to reality.

Dislikes: the phantasms that haunt her, thoughts of weakness, her sleepless evenings, black licorice flavored anything, and the shackles that bind her heart.

Skills/Strengths:

Kaishu’s body is extremely durable even with the small amount of Divineborn in her body. She is able to get slammed around with little reaction to her or even damage depending on how damage is done. It takes an extensive amount of time to actually stagger Kaishu. Her physical strength is much higher than average, as well as her speed, which is supremely advanced, and only enhanced with her usage of the Abyss. She is able to regenerate, as well, anything from minor wounds to full limbs, and has stamina for days.

Kaishu is a well-known battle genius to any who know her and to those who trained her. She has an inane prowess for the flow of combat that makes her naturally very aware, on a good day, how a battle’s course can go. She’s quick to analyse and memorize patterns of movement and skillsets, and quick to adapt and learn from others just by looking at them. At just her age, she has already learned and nearly mastered several different types of weapons, including axes, spears, javelins, bows, and chakrams.

With her ancestry in mind, the teachings that the apprentice learned passed through the lines into Kaishu. She has an intimate relationship with the Abyss, having awoken it early into her adolescence and being able to refine it to a point on her own. She knows several basic Void Style techniques.

Kaishu is incredibly versatile with the Abyss in even the slightest of ways. She can cut the distance between her and an area or an object or a person as though deleting it from the mix. In the blink of an eye, she can be at point A to point B and driving a dagger into your throat. While her affinity is strong and certainly powerful, there’s no telling what could happen if that power got out of control - and with Kaishu’s erratic and deep black emotions, it may be unavoidable to see that true nature inside of her.

Flaws/Weaknesses:

Kaishu is severely mentally ill from years of trauma to her mind and body. One of the biggest and most dangerous for her is her psychosis, which fluctuates between lax episodes and extremely violent ones. She’s affected by paranoid delusions, to which she believes the gods are bearing down on her, or a force greater than her is soon to smite her, even if this might not be true. Her hallucinations are frequent and unrelenting, often more surreal and wonderlandish than pertaining to reality. Her grasp on the real world hangs on a very, very thin thread, triggering a sort of dysphoria towards reality and her perception of how the world works.

Incredibly bullheaded in the face of combat, it’s extremely hard for Kaishu to pull out of combat, especially in the heat of it. She’s the kind of person to fight hell-or-high-water, even when the void in her heart is breaking her down into nothing. Her greatest ambition is to overcome the blight and become the strongest she can be, so… even if she’s challenged by the strongest foe, she’ll push her limits in an effort to better herself. Unfortunately, she doesn’t know when to quit, and her penchant for challenges is often severely irrational - if she even feels threatened or challenged, she absolutely will fight, and that’s a fact. This greatly depends on her mental state, as well, and since failure was never an option for her during her life, failure won’t be an option anywhere. This can be especially dangerous if sustaining major damage, as she’ll force her body to regenerate even faster than it already does, expending energy and putting strain on herself.

Kaishu is only about ½ Divineborn, and hasn’t inherited any of her mother’s devastating potential. She lacks the ability to Create, and barely has magical presence other than Danzetsu. While she can get beat around quite a bit, against a full Divineborn or someone even more powerful than her body, she would have much more trouble. Her body essentially has its limits - limits that Kaishu continues to push.

While some of Kaishu’s attacks are certainly magical, Kaishu is not a mage by any means. Considering most of her arsenal are mid/close range weapons aside from chains and her bow, it’s better to keep a dynamo like her at a distance, which mages can typically do well. While this isn’t a surefire way to beat her, it shakes up her meta quite a bit and forces her to re-strategize.

Furthermore, Kaishu is a weapon’s expert, not a brawler. It is the one branch of fighting she truly lacks in, knowing basics but nothing to really utilize the strength she holds physically. She is sloppy and unrefined - good at ducking and dodging and quick deflections, but offensive fighting is out of the question for her. It’s just not her range of specialty.

Weapons/Equipment:

[Danzetsu]

Danzetsu is what has become of the apprentice after the fierce battle of Cantian. Once a vibrant silver blade, he has absorbed so much light inside of the blade that it has become a reflective pitch black. The blade reeks of Abyssal energy, most likely because that the spirit inside of it died being consumed by the Void itself.

Because of the gluttonous nature of Danzetsu's blade, Kaishu is able to absorb magic/energy-based attacks and hurtle them back at her opponent, or keep them stocked for later. He acts as an amplification system, as well, drawing out more of Kaishu's shadowmancy to the point of being able to mimic other blades from her own. I.e., manifesting shadows across Danzetsu's blade to extend it, or form a greatsword, a rapier, etc.

Only Kaishu, a direct reincarnate/descendant of this man, is able to brandish or even touch Danzetsu (aside from the exception of Ambrosia and her brother). Anyone else who touches it is at extreme risk to be drawn in by Danzetsu, broken apart and absorbed by his sheer heat.

Additionally: Kaishu seems to very, very rarely pull Danzetsu from his sheath unless absolutely needed. She has two smaller swords hitched on her back to actively compensate for this.

[Weapon summons]

Thanks to Danzetsu, Kaishu is able to form weaponry out of shadows by using him to amplifying the very small amount of inherited magic from her mother, Maki. She tends to swap rapidly between weapons during combat to avoid using up too much energy, though, as these constructs are not anywhere near a Divineborn’s Creation in level, and will break away from overuse or just being out too long. She can generally manifest up to 4 constructs in succession, but again - time means everything in the consumption of energy it takes her to do this.

[Chains+weights]

Kaishu uses chains and weights in her combat for a variety of uses. Weights doesn’t exactly limit her to solid lumps of iron, however, as she has many attachments to her chains. While she prefers the weighted chains for snaring/pulling enemies towards her, she isn’t impartial to using hooks.

Appearance:001 | 002 | 003 | 004

Kaishu is a fit, and rather beautiful young girl, with lean and visible muscle in her arms, and more prominent muscle in her thighs. Her chest is modestly-sized and she has a toned hourglass shape and round, wider hips. She is often clothed in layers, and doesn’t show much skin, befitting of her prudent nature. Her chocolate-brown hair stretched down to the middle of her back and she always keeps her messy bangs pushed back with the same purple headband, which shows signs of wear and tear from scratches to chips in its body. She has a beauty mark on her left cheek, closest to the top corner of her lips. Her arms - no matter the occasion - are always covered by those sleeves she wears for whatever reason. She is always covered in light armor up to her thighs, which cover her toeless boots and the leggings she wears beneath her shorts. She can often be seen draped inside an ink-black cloak that stretches down to the tips of her fingers, with a wide neck and a seam down the front that allows her to move her arms freely inside and out. It’s sort of her trademark! Beneath, she has a harness around her torso that holds two shorter swords on her back, while her belt has several vials of red liquid on it, and her proper sword hitched to the back. She has thick, well-groomed eyebrows and full lips.

Theme Songs:

We Only Attack Ourselves - Funeral Suits
Turbo Killer - Carpenter Brut
Walk with the Noise - IAMX

Other: 10/10 cute girl alert

Main or Side: main

Username: moonfelling

Full Name: Remigia Bellamy

Nicknames/Titles: Remy | Mage-Knight Bellamy/Second Commander Bellamy

Occupation: Commander of part of Bellamy’s army, heir to Earldom of Bellamy, and warden over Kaishu Yarinaosu.

Birthday: October 31st.

Height: 5’9”

Weight: 149 lbs.

Race: Demonspawn | High demon.

Sex/Gender: Genderfluid/bigender | AFAB (assigned female at birth) | She/he pronouns

Age: 23 years old.

Sexuality: Bisexual, biromantic (no preference)

Place of Birth: The country of Bellamy in the north-eastern hinterlands.

Biography:

Born to the earl of Bellamy, Remigia was always pushed towards the highest standards. She was taught etiquette, how to dress, how to act, how to be a scion. However, it was never in Remy’s cards to aspire to any of these things. She was always wild, always running about, doing things on her own, causing trouble with other children. A born troublemaker, Remy grew up an enigma to many of the scholars and aids that helped raise her. Especially with her supposed lack of demonic blood, the open book that was Remigia Bellamy was always closed to even her closest relatives.

For a while, she was normal -- but she was not human. No, there was nothing human about a child who could fall from rooftops and sustain no injury, no broken bones. There was nothing human about a child with budding horns in her skull that would just never grow. However, Remy didn’t exactly care. Even into her adolescence, she revered silently in her lack of traits. She loved the life of a human, and especially with her hardened body and advanced senses, there was even more fun to be had.

She didn’t want to sit behind a desk in the First Dominion all alone, filling out paperwork and sealing letters to far off dignitaries. Frequently, Remy rebelled against the will of her father, goofing around with friends and roughhousing with her older brother, Roderick. Alas, childhoods are shortlived, as are fleeting flights of fancy. For Remy, that fantasy of living a human life fell short when she turned 17, on the day when those demonic traits awoke inside of her.

It was an extremely rough, violent patch for Remy. She was constantly in agonizing pain, feeling the genes long suppressed rushing to the top, rushing to become one and overtake everything and anything human about her. She lost the ability to eat human food, to drink human drinks. Every ounce of blood funneled into her throat was bitter and acidic and she could never bear to swallow it without throwing up after. She was angry -- oh, she was so, so, so angry, but there was nothing she could do about it, and if there was anything Remy didn’t like, it was feeling powerless. For a while, she wasn’t able to function without getting aggressive with people.

However, Remy picked herself back up. She was once more determined to return to her normal habits, even if this was a fruitless endeavour. In the end, not wanting to end up devouring the hearts of her friends, she decided to spend her time training as always, eventually becoming a proficient member of the mages’ council in the Second Dominion. She’s very well-known as a ‘mage knight’, and the first of only a handful of those proficient in both weapon and magic. From there, diplomacy became key. Her story brought her into Kori Serio’s royal court, and with a charming visit, she injected herself into foreign affairs… permanently.

Her time with the Sentinels was… interesting. She met new faces, talked politics. It was boring as hell, but it was her job. It still is, rightfully so. For a long while, she was in Barcea - learning, and certainly growing. As a 19 year old, Remy wasn’t… the most couth, or even likeable. But being in Barcea changed that for her.

Maybe it was the sights, maybe it was the people… no one could really pinpoint the shift. But if Remy were to put it in words, she would have to bank her growth and drive to better herself on Queen Kori. In a way, she started looking up to Kori as a good friend and even sister if she was pushing her luck. She was in Barcea for nearly 3 years before finally returning to Bellamy as new - and greater - issues began to rise.

---

The despondent look in her mother’s eye was the first thing that told Remy that whatever was going on to be bad. Even despite that look, though, the High Judge of Bellamy explained the circumstances to her and her father. An uprising of cult activity, some of the highest they’d seen since Cantian, or even lesser Kisokan worship. Reports speaking of great beasts, human at first glance but mutated, grotesque, and terrifying when on the attack. Beasts white as snow, with eyes and aura red as blood. Remy knew what this meant, and understood why her mother’s eye seemed so… low.

No one was supposed to know about Bellamy’s most buried practices, especially that of creating artificial life. It was something the Mage-Knight’s grandfather and mother both kept under strict shadow of secrecy, something they were trying to perfect. An old form of war… already being drawn into the open. An army of homunculi creeping through the Hinterlands was no joke, especially at the rate they were being created and taken down, and sighted. They had to be on guard. They had to find whatever leak there was inside of their borders and they needed to snuff it out.

There was a question that had to be asked: why now, of all times, were cultists rising? It was troubling for more reasons than one. If the country found out that Bellamy’s leaders were not only practicing Goetia, but harboring these same monsters… There would be anarchy. Uneasily, Remy accepted at some point that maybe anarchy was what they wanted. Mass panic. The perfect fodder. But fodder for what?

For about a year after returning from Barcea, Remy dedicated her forces to hunting down homunculi, and protecting the Dragon Fields first and foremost. The hinterlands was one of the last remaining sanctuaries for the beasts, and it was one piece of history they had to preserve at all costs. Things were busy - but still, she kept in touch with Barcea. An uprising in Bellamy… it felt like everything was unraveling. But they had to stay steadfast, on top of things. Soon, worrying was all they could do the more sightings spread across the east. They were growing so large and so much more frequent, and so fast…

And before Remy knew it, the spring tournament was atop of them, and there was no more time to worry.

---

Tensions were high among the earldom, and even with the High Judge. But with smiling faces and gracious conduct, they accepted guests and diplomats of all sorts through their borders. Security was high this year - nothing could get past them, and that’s what Remy wanted to believe. She spent time convincing herself that, talking to herself in the mirror and really getting it through her thick skull. Her mom knew what she was doing, and so did her dad. Everything was going to be fine.

She couldn’t place the sinking feeling in her stomach she felt when she met one particular diplomat - or more precisely… his daughter.

Kaishu Yarinaosu.

The Yarinaosu name wasn’t one easily forgotten, or glossed over. A terrifying breed, they were, but this one was the scariest Remy had seen. The vacant look in her eyes, the tire… as much as it made her twist with empathy and hunger, she met the girl with a smile. The ire bleeding off of her was suffocating. Despite the urge to rip into her aura, Remy offered to show the younger girl around. Together, they traveled Bellamy’s streets, the markets, watched the festivities’ preparations. The flux of emotions from Kaishu’s person perturbed Remy. Positive, negative, positive… it was like a whirlwind. When she was away, she was glad to be. Too tempting, and too… freakish. Like a bad omen. But as soon as the two were finally separate, they began their preparations. She watched Kaishu train when she wasn’t herself, made sure the stadium was clean, the diplomats’ boxes divided, ready.

She made sure there was a guard on every post. Remy collaborated between the paladins, dragoons, and mages smoothly, professionally. Everyone was in understanding of the circumstances, even while not knowing the full reason why so much guard was up. It was easy to pass it off as precaution against bandits, even if it was a weak defense. No one outwardly questioned anything, something that Remy felt relieved and wary of all at the same time.

It was a gloomy day for that particular date. Thunder was cracking and the sun was masked. The battlefield in the Second Dominion’s was bloodied, broken… the gauntlet was thick before the tournament, a free-for-all that Remy couldn’t resist. Fighting dulled the paranoia, the scent of blood and gore caused a boil in her blood that erased all sense of doubt from her. She fought her way into the decided top 16, gracefully, smugly, and strongly. She tore through the strongest of warriors with Dearg-due in hand, and felt right at home. She was in her peak, performing without a care, which may have been just as bad as being too aware of all around her.

Her final opponent brought a special tingle to her fingertips. Kaishu was a strong fighter - the little princess knew her way around an arsenal. But something was wrong. Remy couldn’t quite place it - maybe it was the vacant look in Kaishu’s eyes, or maybe the smallest shifts in her senses through the cheering and shouts of the crowd that seemed to become hyper-aware and fixated on what seemed like nothing at all. The battle commenced, and she shrugged the sensation away only to have it replaced with that sinking feeling again. Something was wrong. In the crowds, with this girl that was fighting her so brutally, so purposefully. She should have noticed it before, even through the guts and the glory.

Remy had fucked up, though. She tried to dull a sixth sense that she shouldn’t have, and she knew it when Kaishu’s spear passed over her head and past her.

The screams that began ringing out were enormous. The panic spread like wildfire, and then… there was a gunshot, and the next thing Remy saw was her father’s head snap back.

The next thing she did was scream.

---

The tears were burning ruts into her skin, but she was still screaming. While her mother, above, commanded for the sniper to be found, Remy screamed for evacuation. She guided the ranks, watched as citizens and visitors all began filing out of the stadium. Among the panic, the tears, the chaos, she shoved through it all to grab the younger girl, catatonic across from her. It felt like Remy’s chest was collapsing in on herself. She wanted this kid to scream, too. To cry, to feel the crush she felt against her ribs and her esophagus. Crying wasn’t a sensation she was familiar with. Heartache wasn’t, either.

She saw to it that Kaishu was shackled, and in confidence, she and her mother guided her back to the holding cells in the High Court. Hours passed while they waited there. Remy cried into her mother’s chest, Kaishu rotted in the cell, silent, so silent, and outside she knew that the mess was being cleaned up. The next time the two were approached, it was by Roderick, a red stone in his hand being all he had to present to them.

All three of them sat there and talked about what they could do. And when Roderick had to return to the mages, mother and child stood and spoke more. Too much talking, Remy thought. So they stopped, and instead went to talk to the young girl. Still, she was silent. Every question seemed to bounce off of her like she wasn’t even there. Remy could tell she was catatonic, maybe even not there at all. But when she began to cry, she could see the child in Kaishu that was petrified over what had happened.

Punishment had to be dealt, though. Remy was branded with a rune to match Kaishu’s - a special kind of binding spell meant to keep warden and prisoner connected. They spoke about the matter very quietly - that Remy would be taking Kaishu off to a distant jailing system off the border of the far north-eastern Hinterlands, while the two would truly be weeding out what homunculi they could, from here, to Barcea, and even further. Remy felt like she was spinning.

Not even months after the reinstatement of the High Judge in place of her father as earl came news of Kori’s death, which Remy received from courier in the summer heat of the south-west territory of Bellamy.

The spinning wasn’t going to stop anytime soon.

Personality:

Remigia is gruff and rustic and ill-fitting of a noble title. However, she works it. Remy knows the way she acts, she holds herself the way she wants and she doesn’t let anyone tell her how to be. She is vulgar and inappropriate, crude and plain mean. She’s the poster child of “talk shit, get hit”, and rarely would she ever let herself be walked over. Extremely vain, it’s no surprise that a narcissist like Remigia is related to a pride demon -- she displays the exact qualities of one in personality.

She is ruthlessly tough and not afraid to get her hands dirty, and especially not opposed to starting petty fights. She has an explosive anger and a terrible, shitty, no-good attitude. Remy is an extremely unstable individual, ultraviolent and aggressive to people. She experiences extremely drastic highs and lows at the flick of a switch and is prone to furious manic episodes. She’s the kind of person to jump the gun on a fencing match without the starting signal sounding. the thrill and twists of fighting get her heated, blood and gore make her happier than can imagine. Furthermore, Remy is an open book; she has no secrets and no issue revealing her innermost thoughts to others. She doesn’t see the point!

She doesn’t like being told how or how fast to move or do things, often going at her own flow most of the time. She can be very reckless and obstinate to an extreme fault, and it’s the reason why she ran such a small, tight-knit squadron -- not many people can stand how stubborn and obnoxious she is. However, everyone knows that she can get shit done - and that’s what matters.

Remy is a pushy, boundary-breaking, impatient person. She likes to go fast, fast, fast and she doesn’t like to stop. of course, she also likes to go slow, slow, slow… depending on the circumstance. She easily gets on your nerves, with that jarring, shit-eating smile on her face she wears when she does it. She loves making people angry as a pass-time, especially if she thinks they’re easy targets. Remy’s extremely belligerent, but… when she gets serious is really when you want to look out.

Negativity aside, Remy’s most redeeming quality is her loyalty to others. Once you have her, you have her - and if you were wanting a power spike on your side, then she’s the ally you want. She will fight endlessly, as hard as physically possible for her comrades. Even to the extinction of her people, Remy has always valued camaraderie first and foremost… though getting along with her is quite a chore. Even if there’s an ally that hates her, though, she’ll protect them with her life, as that is what a knight’s duty is.

Likes: Bloodbaths, fighting, violence, long naps, blisteringly hot days, eating (haha), animals, cutting her own bangs, making people angry

Dislikes: Demons, elves, the royal stigma, liars/dishonest people, gaudy people, uptight people

Skills/Strengths:

Remy’s unique demonic ability gives her the power to tap into the deepest, darkest depths of a person’s emotional and mental well-being. She’s like a boogeyman without having to be in the shadows -- even her entire personality has warped itself to cater to this ability. The more negative emotions a person has, the more Remy can feed off their negativity, and the further Remy can do in manipulating a person. Her power is so proficient that she can influence the mental stability of a person to the point of even having them get physically violent towards others or themselves. However this ability also negatively influences Remy in the way that the more she consumes and the less she lets off, it creates an almost empathetic event and forces her to feel the same negativity others did. Just the same, her own turmoils and mental well-being is compromised due to the fact everything she feels becomes hyper acute to the point of irrationality and violence, and can literally eat her away.

Furthermore, as the dedicated mage-knight she is, Remy is extremely avid in magical study, as well as swordplay. She was unrivaled in her division of the army, showing a genius for brutal and deft fencing technique, much like her mother. Just the same, she has shown an efficient knowledge of the functions of magic and how magic works, coming from the tutelage of her grandfather and one of the demon founders, Ronove Bellamy. She combines the two in combat, using a magical weapon created to fit her tastes and her needs.

As a Commander in the Bellamy ranks, Remy knows quite a bit about how an army should run, the regiments, etc. She has a very structured opinion on how knights and fighters should act and how they should function. She has a small amount of strategical knowledge, as well - there’s really no question as to why she and Kaishu work so well together. She has a very domineering personality and, if need-be, she will take charge of a group without a doubt to get them rolling again.

Flaws/Weaknesses:

Remigia’s body is strong, but it is needy. She can’t eat or drink any human substance, water included. She must sustain herself on a diet of auras and people, and especially blood. She keeps a flask on her filled with blood at all times. Just the same, Remy needs this to keep her strength up, otherwise she will be too weak to really function. Remy’s body is also weak to extreme holy auras, and can be more damaged by weapons made of silver.

Remy is still extremely stubborn when it comes to being challenged and combat in general. She very rarely backs down from a fight, especially if someone she calls a friend and ally is in danger. She tends to get a bit carried away still -- she rarely has a sense of mercy or a sense of stopping while she’s ahead. It’s also notable that she is extremely prone to starting fights due to her personality and her impaired mental state.

Remy is extremely prone to fits of hypomania. While this isn’t always a bad thing, it very well can be very dangerous to her and other people. She often switches from one violent extreme to the next, be it being extremely giddy or, in the worst cases, extremely violent. Especially when provoked, Remy is extremely unstable and easily triggered by shows of violence and stressful/angry situations. If these episodes are severe enough, she can be open to psychotic episodes. More often than not, Remy’s episodes involve persecutory and grandiose delusions and gustatory, visual, olfactory, and auditory hallucinations.

Weapons/Equipment:

[Dearg-due.]

Remigia’s weapon, created from the most expensive of ore from Bellamy’s mines. it is a sleek sabre with a hilt resembling the chamber of a revolver and a trigger mechanism on the hilt. Each chamber is filled with a different, powder-formed magic, each of which can function on their own, and be combined to create different magical buffs to the blade. the elements contained in Remy’s chamber are: fire, ice, air, earth, light and one chamber is filled with dust created from raw Philosopher’s stones, a Bellamy specialty. There’s a slot that opens up on one side of the barrel that Remy can fire proper shots out of.

Appearance: i.imgur.com/IeiM1Jj.png | i.imgur.com/PoRPs1z.png | i.imgur.com/eeBJkWe.png | i.imgur.com/VDfEjnV.png |

Until she reverts to a demonic form, her horns are not visible, if only because they didn’t grow in normally. Her eyes are a pale, pale green, and red through and through as a demon. A uniform of blacks and blues, white gloves, and shoulder-length brown hair. Her uniform runs in tight slacks > dress shirt > tie > jacket. She has a hat, but who knows where that thing is.She has light brown skin, auburn hair to match, and a small scar running down her cheek thinly. Remy’s biggest thing about her is that she’s very, very androgynous. Because of her attire, too, she comes off more boyish than really girly until you hear her voice, which is… totally fine, since she conforms to both ‘binary’ genders! She is characterized with a crooked, shit-eating smirk, and frequently wears a pair of white gloves… which she has a few pairs of in case another gets bloody. They serve the sole purpose of covering the runes on her wrist and the birthmark on her hand that brands her as a demon.

Theme Songs:

Death by Glamour - Toby Fox
Gasoline - Halsey
Carrion - Kevin Sherwood

Other: WORLD’S #1 BITCH

Main or Side: main

Username: moonfelling

Full Name: Hineri.

Nicknames/Titles: Traitor of Wind.

Occupation: Hineri is a housekeep at the Hermit’s Abode in Kyora. She is very good at her job, trust me.

Birthday: June 10th.

Height: 5’5”

Weight: 174 lbs.

Race: God King spawn.

Sex/Gender: Cissex, cisgender female | She/her pronouns

Age: Around her 30s.

Sexuality: Bisexual.

Place of Birth: The country of Wind, into the nomadic life of God King Ralua.

Biography:

Liqiu was born into a nomadic life of bloodshed, and it wasn’t one that would ever satisfy her. She was a naturally bright-eyed child, one with a love of the nature she grew to know so well. As a young child, she blindly followed her mother, and loved her mania-ridden birther with all her heart. Each senseless killing, she watched, and never fully understood the sacrificial nature her mother upheld. As she grew, that understanding grew even more clouded. She couldn’t watch the killing, and the scent of blood was poisonous to her nose. It was confusing for her, after helping in Ralua’s rituals, and knowing only this following - she couldn’t exactly explain her ideals, or how she felt. Each defiance to her mother meant punishment, and Liqiu began to realize that this woman couldn’t have been any mother of hers.

Yes, she knew this as fact, because of one simple realization - she loved this world they were in, and her mother did not. Liqiu loved every being, animal and human and subhuman alike, and Ralua did not. She began to change, going through denial, and acceptance, and anger. All of this was part of the reason why the child of Wind had to leave.

She couldn’t stand the person she had almost become, and at the same time, had no idea who she was.

Liqiu walked, and walked, and walked. Each passing day brought uncertainty, despair, and tire. Her feet bled and her knees ached and her muscles screamed for release. But, she couldn’t listen to them. No matter how tired she got, this nameless girl slipped further into nature, endlessly traveling its branching paths. She thought it was futile - and then she thought it was what she had to do. She thought of returning to that old life - and right after, she scolded herself for it. Not only was this un-living person divided from what she knew the most, but divided in herself, as well.

She cried many tears alone in the forests, swaddled by animals that could feel her sorrow, and screamed at the starry sky with the ravenous wolves. Among the wild, she began feeling… just a bit better, but slowly. The animals, the plants… they all became this faceless person’s new family. This came with consequence; no longer did she feel right slaughtering these animals for food, and thus, she began to suffer because of it. Friend of animals, but starving when she couldn’t find fish or berries or sweet barks to eat. Malnutrition began to dent her mindset. Delusions, hallucinations, sickness. Even further did this child of Wind begin losing sight of herself, and even further did the thorns of her own mind begin to betray her.

It was almost fitting, she so bitterly thought in one moment of clarity. A fitting end to a sickening murderer like her. But her end didn’t come.

The child of Wind finally collapsed when she could smell the sea’s breeze and feel its salty waves washing over her. She was vaguely aware of many things - frantic shouting in a language she didn’t quite understand, movement of herself, the shifting sand, the waves, the waves, the waves.

When she awoke, she was in an environment she hadn’t ever been in before. Her clothing was actually clothing, her feet and other injured parts of her were cleanly bandaged. Her hair and body were washed and she felt more… alive. The first thing she did was bounce on the bed she was tucked away in, curious and a little taken aback. The wood floors were shiny, the view outside was sunny, and untarnished. She could see that the place she was in was an island, though it seemed broken up, surrounded by waterfalls and ocean as far as she could see.

Later in the day, over her first full meal in a long, long time, she would learn that this place was an island by the name of Kisoku, and she would make her first friend - a girl about her age by the name of Yarinaosu Maki.

Even despite her history, she and Maki became quick friends. Liqiu was no longer Liqiu, and no longer nameless. Hineri lived Kisokan life among the natural bounty they produced. Among frogs, and exotic spiders and beetles. Among water and flora and sun. There, she became so in touch with nature that the other elements began growing on her. There, the prolific mages of the province helped her heighten her attunement to wind, and even began teaching her a fragment of other magics she could muster.

And when the war began, Hineri was part of the revolt of Kisoku. She fought alongside Maki, the fearsome Divineborn that wielded both Abyss and pure darkness in her hands. When it was time for the war to advance on, Hineri broke away from Maki to instead go on towards Ralua, where she was part of the bloody fight that went along with it.

The war was long, and hard, but she met people she’d have never met if not for that day she was saved on the coast. She made many (reluctant) allies, and when the war ended… so too did her streak of fighting. She settled to begin traveling again, with the Phantasm and his companion Chikako. She travelled for a very, very long time with them before finally parting ways and wishing to settle down, and she chose Kyora in which to do so.

Personality:

Hineri is admittedly a fairly strange character to interact with, even on the best days. She holds a certain special disdain for herself (or who she was) and it heavily impacts her as a person. She is cowardly in most situations, jelly-knees and all at the sight of danger, but Hineri is far from weak, as well. Rather, she’s bold… but because of who she is, and who she was, she has taken up a more passive life. At least, unless the need arises for her to be active.

Hineri is not Hineri, and this is very important. Hineri is who Hineri wants Hineri to be. She comes off as very naive and sweet and caring - and she is, as well as seemingly very clumsy, ditzy, and just all around goofy! … Which is true. But at her mercurial core, Hineri is someone she wishes would disappear - a God King spawn. When Hineri fights, she doesn’t stop. It’s like a switch in her body that turns on when the conditions are dire - she will fight to kill, and overkill, and with a power as proficient and terrifying as the one she inherited, well… she will even kill in the most ruthless of ways. She’s not so completely unhinged, like her mother… but the blood connection they have speaks leagues about her mental state, especially after the war.

But she means well! Really, she does. She conceals more than she reveals, and her tendency to refer to herself in the third person may just be a sign of that in itself. In a way… you could say that ‘Hineri’ has become a person in herself; someone Hineri has convinced herself she is rather than what she can be. It’s gotten to the point where, 10 years later from the end of the God King war, there is more delusion than just plain ‘hiding’. As someone who bottles, and bottles, for the sake of fulfilling some selfish desire to make others happy, the threads holding Hineri’s little mental carousel together may be weaker than even she believes.

Likes: The deep blue sky, the soft comfort of a cat’s fur, the sweet scent of honeydew, and the warm summer’s breeze.

Dislikes: An ocean’s dark tides, senseless suffering, and the blood that drifts in her veins.

Skills/Strengths:

During the war, Hineri trained herself, for the most part, in melee combat, as well as use of war-hammers and blades. She is extremely proficient in hand-to-hand because of her decision to leave weapons behind, and her enhanced physiology certainly helps her deal critical blows - her punches easily destroy even the sturdiest of stone.

As a God King child, she is faster, stronger, and has much more longevity in her life than the normal human. Especially in magic, she is much, much stronger than the average mage. And with training, and war, and experience… a woman with control of wind isn’t someone to be trifled with. (Unless you’re a wuss like Hineri.)

Yes, while a wuss, Hineri holds great magical strength beneath her skin. Air is a versatile element - wind, and even the atmospheric pressure lay at her fingertips. She is so proficient that she can even deprave large crowds of breath in one fell motion, either to simply knock them out… or completely suffocate them. In even the strongest of storms, wind bends for this child of Ralua, and you won’t ever see her getting swept up by the drastic currents.

While in Kisoku, Hineri learned to manipulate water and earth as secondary magics. They are strong, but definitely not as strong as her affinity to wind. They’re more on par with any normal mage, if not with a little more practical use.

Finally, Hineri is a skilled apothecary, and a very able survivalist. She knows plants and herbs like the back of her hand, and especially has a taste for what is what, and what makes the best ointments and perfumes and the like.

Flaws/Weaknesses:

As previously stated, Hineri is a more passive person by nature. She tries very, very hard to avoid fighting at all costs to avoid going all out, or losing herself back to old ways. This is probably her most critical flaw - she is cowardly and holds back in fights, which can easily lose her a battle or a life of a friend.

Hineri’s magic easily fans flames - literally. Fire magic is her direct counter, as she only makes it stronger just by nature.

Hineri isn’t as… strong as her old self, due to her own delusional fantasies. In essence, this is fairly critical as well. She’d need to have a level of self-acceptance that she just… doesn’t have on a sober day to draw out her true power. When she does draw out that power, though, Hineri is dangerous - very, very dangerous.

Weapons/Equipment:

N/A.

Appearance: Hineri is a short, curved woman with brown hair and yellow-green eyes. She has four scars on her face, two on either cheek, and a myriad of scars on her hands, which she often keeps tucked away in her sleeves. She wears an ankle-length set of pink robes with embroidered flowers over it, and chunky wooden sandals that, somehow, she manages to walk on. Her hair is pulled into a messy bun most of the time, and pinned with a long needle and a tiara-like clasp. She is often very happy-looking, and has a very cattish smile. Her pupils change shape every now and again, based on her mood or reactions to things.

Theme Songs:

001
002

Other: #1 waifu for laifu

Main or Side: Side.

Username: moonfelling

Full Name: Lottie Kaia Durant
Nicknames/Titles: She goes by Kaia. In the past she was known as Little Lottie, by her close relatives.
Occupation: Dancer
Birthday: March 23rd
Height: 5'
Weight: 95lbs
Race: Human
Sex/Gender: Female
Age: Eighteen.
Sexuality: Demisexual
Place of Birth: H'kela.
Biography: Born in H'kela, Kaia had a fairly rough life. Her father had joined the military to protect his wife and child, but soon after his death in battle, her mother was enlisted. At the time, Kaia was only about four years old, and she was sent to live with her extended family, which at the time, in the house consisted of her great aunt, Aria, her elder cousin, Harmonie, and occasionally, a visit from her eldest cousin, Melodie. Though they travelled with many of her aunts, uncles and other cousins every so often.
While with them, she learned many things. How to play instruments, bettered her singing, and most importantly; how to dance. The bardic family that had taken her in did wonders for her artistic side, though it seemed the near-perfection that her life had become, wouldn't last. Her aunt heard word, and called the two young girls in, to speak. Kaia's mother had died as well, but had left her a note and gift that had been delivered with the news. The gift, a bracelet with small crystals dangling beautifully from it. The note that it came with, barely read through the tears;
'My dearest little Lottie,
If you're reading this, then it seems my life has come to pass, as your father's had before mine. Know that we both are proud of you, will continue to watch over you, love you and when you speak, we will always listen. Your own life is only just beginning, do not fill it with regrets; make friends, hold tightly to love, and never forget yourself.
With this I leave you a gift. My lucky bracelet. I know it will help you in ways you can't even imagine. Take it, wear it, and know, Lottie, how special you really are.
Love,
Mama'
For a child, Kaia took the message fairly well, all things considered. Of course she grieved, as any would for their beloved parents, but she knew the letter held truth. They would always be there with her, when she needed them. As years went by, she continued learning to perfect her dancing, always keeping her mother's memento on her wrist. Without realizing it, she'd learned to chanel magic. She knew that her mother had always had special powers to heal others, so when she would fall dancing, she always believed that when her scrapes and bruises would disappear along with the pain, it was her mother's power, not her own.
While travelling with her family, her powers became much more apparent; they traveled to perform across H'kela, preparing to go to other nations as well, but before she was able to realize what had happened, Kaia was being approached by some men from the audience, after the show. They'd mentioned her dance, how people around them, as well as they, themselves, had reacted to the movements. Her thoughts in the performance, had been "I want them to love me" it was an innocent request; after dealing with the death of both parents, and feeling alone(despite her extended family's efforts), she wanted the world to love her, she wanted to be noticed, wanted to feel something other than sorrow.
It turned out, that the men who had approached her at the performance, had gone to their boss about it. Her magic was found out before she even truly knew she possessed it, and she was taken from her aunt at the young age of thirteen to be trained properly before being sent out for the same fate as her parents. It was here, that her mother's letter was remembered. Do not live with regrets. Never forget who you are. She was no soldier to be brought in like cattle for the slaughter. And so she ran. At first, she had gone with the company of her eldest cousin. Someone she knew would protect her, who had in the past, protected many. Eventually, however, they parted ways. She didn't want Melodie getting into trouble with her, and Melodie said she had 'business' to attend to. So, she made way for Jasi on her own, with the same promise her mother had given her; if she needed anything, Melodie would be there to help her, she need only give the word.
When she made it to Jasi, things didn't go as well as she had hoped. She hadn't truly planned anything through, she didn't have much money, either. It was then, that she truly started practicing with her powers. By the age of fourteen, she was making a decent amount; enough to get by, anyway. Dancing for various performances, private and public, until one day, she was approached by another man. He didn't seem militaristic, so she thought to hear him out. When he offered her a job dancing, she asked if it would involve any fighting. With the response of "no" she took the job without much more thought. She was young, hungry and homeless, but this man had offered her shelter and food.
It wasn't long before she realized what she truly signed up for. Her dances were eyed, even when she didn't think about the love and adoration she once wanted. She thought to dance and push him away with her mind, but dance after dance, the man came closer and closer, until finally, she found herself in the man's bed, night after night, crying for him to stop, pleading to be let go. Attempts to escape were quickly met with re-capture, beatings and who was essencially her master, having his way with her. For three years, she lived like this, before she finally escaped and ran far enough, fast enough, to get out of Jasi without being caught. She'd stolen some money from the man who'd kept her captive to pay for any fare to get out, and found herself for the next year, wandering. Lost both physically and spiritually. Praying to her mother that be kept safe, that she be remembered, loved and protected. With no answer, her faith turned to a sad, unwilling resentment.
It hadn't been until recently, that the teen had heard that shortly after her "escape" to Jasi, her cousin, Melodie, had died as well. Her choices now, were to stay alone in unknown lands, or return to H'kela, with her family... While family seemed nice, the choice to go back to H'kela alone, wasn't a choice she honestly wanted to make.
Personality: Kaia is as timid as she is small. Quite shy, it's obvious she's been hurt more ways than one, causing her to keep thoughts to herself most of the time. Outwardly, she shows a gentle smile to all those around her, but inside she weeps, holding her fear in, and often forcing herself into social situations so she can feel normal, even though she's clearly nervous almost the whole time. Of course, this isn't to rule out any playfulness from her. She quite enjoys herself when with the right group of people, and when she dances she seems to take on a whole new persona. One of courage and confidence.
Likes: Dancing, singing, sewing, stargazing, being alone.
Dislikes: Violence/fighting, most older men, being restrained in any way, large crowds, loud noises.
Skills/Strengths: Kaia's dances do more than simply boost moral; with a little help from magic, her dances can give sort of "buffs" to her allies, causing them to move faster, land stronger attacks, and take much harder hits, though she can also debuff an enemy in the same manner, such as slowing them or causing temporary blindness(with a flash of light... or throwing sand in their eyes if she's feeling petty that day).
Her Magic can also be used in the way of healing, while not as good as someone who had studied healing arts properly, she can take care of smaller wounds, or at least ease the pain for a while.
Flaws/Weaknesses: Kaia is not physically strong, which hinders her when trying to use the weapons she picked up not long ago to protect herself with.
Without her mother's crystal, her powers are lackluster at best. She could dance her little heart out and not get far, without the amplifying effects of the stone.
Her personality could also be counted as flaw; she doesn't allow herself to really get close to others, often lying about her past, and having the tendency to run if someone pushes for any answers, or trying to change the subject before she even attempts the lies.
That said, she's a really bad liar...
Weapons/Equipment: She recently picked up a set of twin katars. When the handle is pulled it opens to reveal a third blade within that pushes out slightly to a bit longer than the two that sheath it, but she doesn't really know that, because she lacks the strength to squeeze the handle enough.
On her right wrist, she wears a thin golden chain bracelet, that has three crystals, two small pink crystals, on either side of a larger pale blue crystal. The pink ones are for show, but the blue one allows her magic to be used effectively. Without it, her dances are just dances, in most cases.
Appearance: Truly a beauty; with brown-hazel eyes, light brown hair that in certain lights can look dirty blonde which falls to her waist and fair skin with a slight tan. Kaia is tiny. Shorter and lighter than average, it's no doubt a contributing factor to how small she feels in the world. Though that said, she's still quite curvy. This is shown quite clearly in her style of dress. She usually wears a strapless top that shows off her midrift, though the off-shoulder sleeves often are made of a light-weight, flowing material that falls far from her arms. A short skirt that barely covers her often compliments the choice in top, with the same lightweight material for the sleeves as a train behind her. Sandals that lace with ribbon on her feet, and on her wrists and ankles, she wears matching jewelry; all golden chains with pink and blue crystals. Additionally, she often decorates her style with feathers, flowers and ribbons.
Theme Songs: Wanderer's Lullaby - Adriana Figueroa
Main or Side: Main
Username: Aya the Small

Full Name: Thuraya Azize.
Nicknames/Titles: Raya.
Occupation: If necessary.
Birthday: July 21st
Height: 5'6"
Weight: 243lbs
Race: Nonhuman - Scorpionfolk
Sex/Gender: Female
Age: Twenty one.
Sexuality: Bisexual.
Place of Birth: H'kela.
Biography: From birth, things had not been so great, for the young Thuraya Azize. She was a runt among her siblings, yet was given the benefit of the doubt for a few years, to see if she would grow strong like the others. In this time, her mother made no effort to truly care for her, instead looking after her brothers and sisters to make sure they would grow strong like her. Thuraya was left to forage for her own food with minimal help from one of her stronger siblings, and by the age of five, her mother decided she'd be better off dead. She was to be eaten that day, but having seen it coming, Thuraya decided instead, to run. She ran as far as she could in the one day, finding herself in a cave that she would call home for the night. It was alright at first, but soon found that without her siblings' help, hunting and gathering food was going to be an issue.
Several years passed and she clung to her life, swearing to prove her mother wrong. That she could be strong like the others, that she would fight and survive. She managed to just get by. Without money she couldn't live as a true citizen of any civilization, instead taking to the streets, eating left overs that were thrown out, always making her way farther North. Farther from her once-was home, from her family.
A few years of this life style she found herself entering cooler territory. She'd left H'kela and entered Gurata. It was here, in the cold, that her mind started to have thoughts of giving up. She was dirty, malnourished, and dying. Yet despite that, she pressed onward. Her dress torn, tail's armour cracked, body covered in infected wounds, she laid for rest, and thought perhaps she wouldn't wake up. It was that day, however, that she had been found. Fifteen years old, and at last someone had noticed her; a woman by the name of Seryosa. She said that she was a new chief, and when Thuraya had mentioned she'd been alone for ten years she was taken in, cleaned, given food, and her wounds were taken care of. It took over a year for her to recover fully, yet when she did, she took up training to fight, and with this new care she'd been put under, she grew strong. Her will carried her farther than anyone had anticipated from she who claimed to be a runt, and was soon bravely fighting to protect what she had learned to love as her true family.
----------
Sent by Seryosa to aid Barcea against H'kela, Thuraya found herself among the Sentinels. From Lady Renata she had received the gift of earth magic, with which she still struggles to fully control, though hasn't given up practice.
She kept her distance from the group for the most part, not caring to befriend any of them, or truly become attached to someone that she may never see again for any variety of reasons, though one had caught her attention. He wasn't a Sentinel, by any means. His name was Marco; smaller than the rest. Much younger than the rest. It was something about him that caused her to keep an eye out for him. Perhaps his age, or perhaps it was that he reminded her of herself at a younger age, before she'd truly found herself or her strength.
As battle raged around them after the Queen of Barcea's death, Thuraya was quick to make her way to Marco's side and protect him with all she had, along with the civilians who had come to see, unsuspecting of the beast that'd been summoned. If not for her, many more casualties would've been had that day, but the one she prided herself on saving the most, was the young boy...
Personality: Depending on how well one knows Thuraya, is how she would act, as is with most people. If she doesn't know you, she is fairly quiet. Reserved and secretive making her a little mysterious. She appears as a strong force that doesn't seem to care much about those around her, only wishing to get whatever she's doing, done.
On the other hand, if one were to get closer to her, she would begin to show her true colours. Thuraya is a very up-beat, excitable young woman but can be a bit hard-headed and hot-headed. She has no qualms with getting her hands dirty, and often times thinks only about what treasures she might find in her adventures. Not to say she isn't a caring individual, of course. If one manages to actually become her friend, she will protect them to the ends of the world, but getting to that point is the hard part. Until one reaches close-friend status, she simply brushes people off. If a traveling companion, she will watch their back, but would not truly risk herself for their sake.
Likes: Sunbathing, training, being able to protect others, her own strength, traveling.
Dislikes: Showing her own weakness, cold weather, being alone, the dark.
Skills/Strengths: Thuraya is a very fast individual. Her tail is her advantage, allowing her to throw it's weight around to also be agile like a cat, though it looks nothing like that when she's running(Due to her tail only really being able to curl or uncurl with very slight movements left or right). As a scorpionfolk, she is able to burrow underground and move efficiently enough, though is roughly a third of her speed if she were on top of the ground. She is physically and mentally strong, training endlessly to become someone who may one day protect everyone she holds dear, with a will that is near impenetrable.
After receiving her gift from Karin Ranata, Thuraya has been teaching herself to control the magics in which she was bestowed.
Attacks include spikes of land raising in a line toward a target, small stone prisons forming around a target and crushing inward, tremors to knock opponents off balance, small fissures and simply throwing stones about.
Support abilities are purely defensive, using the same small stone prisons to form around a target, however, instead of crushing inward, it simply stays as is. She's yet to figure out how to make it fall, and thus far has had to dig her way out underneath.
Flaws/Weaknesses: Thuraya is often cocky in battle, leading her to make stupid moves and silly mistakes. Her strength is not always enough to see her through to victory, because of this. With a will of steel, she is still easily persuaded if the right methods are used. Her love for those close to her are a good point- if they are in danger, it is very likely that she would change her decisions to help keep them safe. That said, she is also rather hot-headed and quick to anger while in the heat of battle. Also, she tries to look cool sometimes and close doors with her tail's stinger, but it gets stuck... more than embarrassing.
Weapons/Equipment: Thuraya is partial to her giant great sword, Sylvia. It appears to be made for someone roughly twice her height, but she uses it with grace, regardless. She prefers to wear a wrapped top and short skirt under a scalemaille chest piece. A chain belt hangs at her hips holding plates that hang over her thighs, with boots that have platemaille in front, and scale in back, chainmaille joints, and matching gloves. All are battle-worn, yet retain a shine, showing their rusty pink colour.
Her sword has been imbued with a round gem which allows her control over earth magic.
Appearance: Thuraya is a slightly-above-average-height young woman. She has a sandy skin tone, with primarily white hair, with dirty blonde low-lights throughout. Her eyes are a bright, glimmering emerald green. Her body is athletically toned though holds her slight hour-glass figure. From the base of her spine, runs a long (roughly four feet in length) scorpion tail, which she tends to leave trailing behind her, curled to hover roughly five inches above the ground.
Theme Songs: Rigid Paradise - TAMUSIC
Desert Journey - Gladiator Soundtrack
Other: N/A
Main or Side: Main.
Username: Aya the Small

Full Name: Krissandria Guenevere Estelle Julian Elliott
Nicknames/Titles: Lady Elliott, or simply Elliott. She has been known to be called “Krissy” but she doesn't care much for nicknames.
Occupation: King's Guard.
Birthday: April 13th
Height: 5'11”
Weight: 130lbs
Race: Elf.
Sex/Gender: Female.
Age: One hundred thirty seven. To a human she may appear roughly twenty five.
Sexuality: Bisexual.
Place of Birth: Barcea.
Biography: From a young age, Krissandria was praised. As far as her parents were concerned, she may as well have been an only child – Though she does have a younger sister. She was, to those around her, completely superior to her younger sister, however, and was focused on because of this. Brought to greatness through training with her father for physical combat, schooled in the ways of magick with her mother, both teaching her the knowledge she would need to rise to her full potential.
By the age of twelve, she had started training with others who were not her father in physical combat training, as well as taking on her solo training as well. She grew strong, intelligent, capable, and by eighteen, had decided to fully follow her father's footsteps in the Barcean Military. She would give her body and blade for the kingdom as her father had done for over a century before her. It was then, that her life truly began.
At the age of forty, her younger sister, Alicandriella was born. It was a joyous occasion, and for a few years, everything seemed... right. She took a big part in helping their parents raise little Alice when she had the time, though as she grew older, things seemed off – Krissandria could feel a great power in the girl, but she was unable to do even the most simple spells, she was too frail for any sort of physical training, but her potential in magic seemed very high. This made it all the more odd, that her sister didn't seem capable in doing much of anything. This lead to Krissandria being praised and Alice nearly forgotten- though not entirely. Her sister would care for her, where her parents did not.
Many years passed, and a new king came into power- Olain Serio. During his reign, the war with H'kela started back up. She and her father were both sent out, and she worried for her sister alone with their mother.
She had begun blocking out her emotions during battle. She learned to strike down foes without hesitation. Rising through the ranks relatively quickly, she headed west to take part in the conflict with H'kela, Krissandria pushed her fears aside, and with them a bit of her humanity. She'd fought there, to protect her home and people within it, but most important to her; her younger sister. However she'd lost much in such a short time. Her father died just metres away from her, that's when all her emotion started flooding back. The fight was no longer something she had down to a practiced strategy. It had become less of an intricate science, and brought down to a very simple, low-level math; Axe plus H'kelan, equaled survivability and revenge.
It wasn't until after the battle where her father had died, that she'd realized just how many had fallen around her that day. Both sides of the battlefield were filled with carnage. Bodies strewn, she could almost hear the calls of the dead. They haunted her on her way back to the Barcean capitol, knowing that she would need to deliver the news to her mother and sister. She was not without her own wounds, mind; the right side of her face had been struck, leaving a rather nasty scar.
Upon her return, she was praised only for a moment by her mother. Long enough to realize that she came bearing bad news of the whereabouts of the woman's husband. She handed her her father's sword and took her leave without a word to Alice, who had been out in the yard practicing her music. A look was all, a small smile at seeing she was alright, and Krissandria headed to the castle to receive additional medical attention as well as give any reports needed.
After over a decade of fighting, she was pleased to hear that the new Queen would be bringing about peace. If only it would be so simple, though if it was hope for the people, the elven woman wouldn't speak against it. If it would bring a light back to Barcea, then she would accept, and help any way she could.
Her years of fighting would be put to use less and less as the next few years passed, and eventually she was promoted to Queen's Guard. Taking pride in the position, she travelled home to tell her mother of the news – it was then, that she learned of her mother's illness. Despite all the neglect, Alice had been tending to her, yet within a few months, their mother had died. Promising to work hard, for Alice, Krissandria told her sister to live as she wanted, and she would always be there for her, even if she was ever called back into war, she would return to her.
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Krissandria, try as she may, was unable to change the Queen's mind when it came to surrendering herself to the H'kelans. As such, she followed orders, took her sister and left the Barcean capital to meet with the Sentinels and relay the information that they would be needed at the H'kelan border.
Kori's death afterward was quite the opposite of unnoticed by Krissandria. She'd completely lost her composure, and killed all in between herself and the young Queen. Anger, vengeance and love pouring into each and every slash, barely noticing the beast that had been summoned as she made her way forward, having to be physically pulled back from the battleground.
She still has not recovered fully from that day, even with Gartian's death. She still serves the royal family of Barcea, now as King's Guard for Kori's younger brother with the same respect and kindness she'd shown his sister, yet the difference lay not in loyalty itself, but for certain the type of loyalty she would show the now-king.
Personality: Krissandria is a very official woman, who takes her work seriously. She gives herself, body and blade in the name of Barcea, while things are now not quite as they were before she would still gladly give her life to protect the land and it's people. She comes off as very cold, but in truth cares deeply for the well-being of all, yet doesn't like emotion to get in the way of her work. Doing as she's told it's been questioned if she has a mind of her own. While she does think for herself, she isn't one to question orders often, knowing that anything she is sent to do, would be for the good of Barcea.
She is not one to outwardly enjoy jokes or pranks, often times meeting them with straight lips and furrowed brow, gently scolding those who would perform them, though it has been known for her to give a light chuckle afterwards, and maybe even keep the smile for a while...
Since the death of Kori, she has become a much more emotionally vulnerable person, though she doesn't let it show on the outside with many people, the King and Princess certainly would notice the shift in her overall personality. She is much more somber than she once was.
Likes: Protecting others, fighting for the good of her nation, being in the company of others, her sister's desserts...
Dislikes: Failure, informality, disrespect, those who would oppose Barcea.
Skills/Strengths: Krissandria is adept at magic and physical combat. She is best with pole-arms and healing magic. She is level-headed at nearly all times, able to make critical decisions while under great pressure and stress. She's not easily swayed, and has been known to put up good arguments for her own persuasions.
Flaws/Weaknesses: While usually level-headed, Krissandria is very prone to putting her own life on the line without a second thought when it comes to her sister, and those of the Serio family. Her vision is not the greatest, due to only having one eye, which puts her at a disadvantage, if anyone is to come toward her on her right side, she may not notice if there is a lot of noise preventing her from hearing them, as she has no peripheral vision.
Weapons/Equipment: A narrow battle axe with spiked end for either slashing(choppy chop! :D) or piercing damage. Her armour is light, and often worn underneath of her clothing, to appear as though she isn't armoured at all. Preferring a light chainmaille with thin plates along her arms and legs that fit comfortably beneath her clothes.
Appearance: Krissandria is a serious-looking elf. She has fair skin, an icy, sky-blue eye and lips that only form a smile around those she is close to. Her other eye(right side) is covered by a patch. Other times her expression is straight and professional. She is rather curvy for an elf, yet still is quite lithe. Her platinum-blonde hair reaches to about her waist, but is always kept up off her shoulders in a tight bun at the mid of the back of her head. While serious and battle-worn, there is no doubt about the beauty she holds.
Theme Songs: All Our Days – RWBY Soundtrack
Flight of the Silverbird – Two Steps From Hell
Other: Alicandriella is her everything. While she takes her work very seriously, she would drop everything for her little sister.
Main or Side: Main.
Username: Aya the Small

Full Name: Alicandriella Leanne Sierra Marie Elliott
Nicknames/Titles: She also goes by Alice, Ali, Al or Ella.
Occupation: Baker/Cleric in Training.
Birthday: May 13th
Height: 5'9"
Weight: 115lbs
Race: Elf.
Sex/Gender: Female.
Age: Ninty seven, appears roughly eighteen.
Sexuality: Heterosexual.
Place of Birth: Barcea.
Biography: When Alice was born, she was brought into a warm, loving family environment. She had an older sister who was excited for her birth, and her parents were very supportive and loving... Until she was ten. Alice had a lot of potential, and it was shown from her birth to this point. Within her was an immense amount of magic that those around her could feel just being in her presence, though controlling it was a completely different story.
She was placed in lessons for healing with the high priestess of the clergy her mother was part of. These lessons lasted many years with little to no progress being made. This of course, began to take a rather large emotional toll on the young elf, especially when the priestess told her mother that she could not be trained. It was then, that while her sister and their father were off training their physical combat abilities, Alice stayed home with their mother, who had taken it upon herself to try and train her.
More time passed, and in that time, she could see herself failing with every step, and see the disappointment it was causing her family. Slowly she had been pushed to the back of their minds, her sister on the receiving end of all praise from their parents, while Alice would sit outside, practicing her music, her one saving grace with pleasing her mother. She was talented at playing many string and woodwind instruments, favouring her mandolin and penny-whistle. She had never given up on her healing, however.
As time passed, she began taking up other hobbies, one of her main ones being baking. She started simple, with cookies and cakes, eventually working her way into treasured delicacies that all enjoyed. This hobby went into overdrive along with other cooking abilities, when her father and sister went off to war. She was worried about them, and could use anything to get her mind off of what could happen to either or both of them. She also started taking more walks through the forests, finding herbs and other plants with medicinal properties that she would learn to put into her baking. One way or another, she would heal, and she would achieve her mother's approval. It was there, in the woods, that she started making new friends. The animals of the woods seemed to take a liking to her, and she would talk to them as she took her walks, asking them about the different plants, singing along with their nature song.
The day of her sister's return, Alice was out in the yard practicing her music, playing her mandolin and singing with the birds. She'd gathered a small audience of her animal friends, singing a song of happiness and hope. Birds and bugs singing along, others such as deer and rabbits grazing a short ways away - it was always quite a sight to see, and such a lovely thing to hear, but to her, she was simply just practicing something her mother wanted her to, in the hopes she might please her with something.
It was later in the evening, when Ali returned into the house, that she found her mother with the blade of her father that Krissandria had brought back. Tears still filling the woman's eyes. For the first time in many years, her mother looked upon her with emotions beyond disappointment. She invited the young elf to sit with her, and they sat in silence for a while, Ali being embraced by her. It was an odd feeling, though she returned the loving hold on her. Unfortunately, it didn't last. After their grieving period, her mother became even harder on her, pushing her again to study healing. There was no progress, though she did seem mildly impressed with the baked goods containing the medicinal herbs.
At the age of eighty six, Alice was forced into a care-taker position, her mother fallen ill. She did everything she could for her, including making the best baked goods she'd ever made, perfecting her craft of medicinal baking in the last years of her mother's life. Yet nothing was strong enough to remove the illness. It was toward the end of this time that Krissandria return home to deliver the good news of being promoted to Queen's Guard. While incredibly happy for her sister, she was not herself. For the next few months, Kriss mad more frequent visits home, and once, for a week straight, she stayed with Alicandriella. The second day of the week, their mother passed, and at the end of their week together, Kriss told Alice to live as she wanted. With time, she began to do this, opening a bakery in the capitol with her sister's help financially at first, which soon became a quite well-known shop for both it's medicinal and non-medicinal sweets.
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Alicandriella was taken abruptly from her shop by her sister shortly after Kori's agreement to surrender herself to H'kela, for safety purposes. She was quick to make friends with the others, and helped any way she could with helping the injured after the fights, though hadn't been present at any. The loss of Queen Kori still took it's toll on the young elven girl, though she worries more now, for her sister than herself. Alice has since returned to Barcea to run her bakery as normal.
Personality: Alice is a sweet, polite young woman. Despite her hardships through life she always shows others kindness. She is a very free spirit, able to say what is on her mind without difficulty. She's quite an emotional girl, expressing herself exactly how she's feeling, be it happiness, anger, confusion, sorrow. Ali's one to believe in second chances... And third... and fourth... and tenth... Though despite her giving many chances to people to redeem themselves, she doesn't ever forget what has been done. Simply forgives eternally, which of course, has it's downsides. She is trusting, and has very strong belief that there is good in literally everyone, and makes it her goal to find that good in even the darkest of souls.
She is actually the most precious of cinnamon rolls. As sweet as those she bakes at her shop.
Likes: Baking, music, helping others, friends and family, travelling.
Dislikes: Rude or mean people, bitter foods, violence and fighting.
Skills/Strengths: Alicandriella is a cleric in training, as such she knows many things that have healing properties, and can do very, very, very mild healing spells. Her true strength is in baking, though. She has the ability to add medicinal herbs to something as common and tastey as cookies to make getting better taste great and not be a pain - many people often buy these from her shop for children who won't take medicine.
Flaws/Weaknesses: Literally everything else. Ali is clumbsy, trusting of the wrong people, forgiving to those who don't deserve it, and she can't even protect herself properly when things go poorly. Her healing magic is weak to the point of being nearly non-existant. She can also be a bit absent minded at times while on her walks to gather herbs or other little crafty things like pinecones and flowers, which has more than once, landed her injured in holes and ditches.
Weapons/Equipment: Krissandria tried to teach her in the art of archery but it went poorly. She now carries a bow when travelling but can't aim very well. She also has taken a liking to maces, though many of them are too heavy for her to lift - her sister got her one made of mythril, though even then it is quite heavy and takes her quite a bit of energy to swing it just once.
Appearance: Ali is very small. She's taller than most other women she's met, but is beyond lithe and looks rather frail. She has fair skin, sky-blue eyes and long, straight golden-blonde hair that reaches just to her waist often times left down the most up, being a braid or two that act as hair bands. She has a seemingly contagious smile when happy, and even when she's not at her happiest, she still tends to dress in pale greens and pinks, long hoop-skirts that are at the very least, half-way between her knees and ankles, feet covered with brown leather boots with no heel(when she wears shoes, anyway). Over her blouses, she often wears underbust corsets or cinchers, though somtimes does go without, showing that they don't actually alter her form at all. Alice also wears a fair amount of jewelry - silver bangles on both wrists, a couple rings of varying shapes, sizes and colours, as well as many earrings and long chain necklaces with varying charms.
Theme Songs: Have You Ever Seen Me? - Nobuo Uematsu / Risa Ohki
Once You Meet Her - Nobuo Uematsu / Risa Ohki
Other: Ali is cute! I:
Main or Side: Side.
Username: Aya the Small

Full Name: Dimitrius Alexander James Turner
Nicknames/Titles: Dimi, Dimitri and by only one will he accept "Tritri" as a name. Titles once included Lord, though he now prefers "Sir" for various reasons.
Occupation: Musician / Resident annoyance.
Birthday: August 18th.
Height: 6'3"
Weight: 176lbs
Race: Vampire.
Sex/Gender: Male.
Age: Appears roughly twenty, is actually just over three hundred years old.
Sexuality: Pansexual.
Place of Birth: Barcea.
Biography: Dimitrius grew up in a good home, with a good family. They cared for him as he did them, and all seemed well in the world. Their land was beautiful and was filled with opportunities for him and his younger sister. They were wealthy, and had everything they needed and wanted. While one would think this would raise spoiled, bratty children, it was quite the opposite. Dimitrius was content just to have his studies and music, taking up both violin and piano at a very young age, as well as his vocals, later adding many more instruments to his arsenal.
He was very close to his sister, in fact she often accompanied his musical pieces with her own vocals, harp or both. This became their main way of bonding into their late childhood. When Dimitrius was thirteen, however, their bonding times would come to a quick end. When he came home after a tutoring session he was left to find the bloody mess in the main foyer of their home, in the middle of it, the body of his mother.
He searched then, for his father and sister, but was glad to not find his father at all, when he found his sister curled under a counter in the kitchen, behind the doors of a cupboard. She told him what happened; that their parents had gotten into an argument, and that their father had flown into a rage, hitting her down and that was when his sister had fled the room to hide.
Still young, his mind went rather rash, quickly. Telling his younger sister to visit their neighbours, and good friends of their mother, tell them what happened and that he'd sent her. She nodded in agreement, but he didn't tell her where he would be going. In truth, he had no leads as to which direction to even go at first, so first he would start with that. He'd ask neighbours if they'd seen or heard anything, he'd head farther out based on these findings. Soon enough he was being told that his efforts would be in vain, that he'd never find the man he sought, and die trying.
By the age of fifteen, two years later, Dimitrius sought a closer friend of his father's, who was able to give a few more answers. Learning that apparently his father had gone into a rage during their last meeting, and they'd fought, before the Lord had fled the scene. There was something 'off' about the Lord who'd fled, and he felt that it was a bit of a demonic presence within him. Dimitrius took this information surprisingly well, and instead of worrying, he chose to request his father's friend to train him in the ways of combat. He was not a very strong boy, but in time he could learn skills to aid him, and he'd always been rather quick on his feet.
Training commenced the next day, after a proper meal, some tea and a good night's rest. In his time with the man who he also had come to know as friend, Dimitrius learned the art of swordplay well, favouring the rapier, so he opted to master the thin blade's style, which allowed him to use his speed efficiently, for quick, precise attacks. He'd spent two years training, knowing that if what his new friend said was true upon his arrival he stood no chance at stopping his father without the dedication he'd spent. He took very little time to rest during the two years, opting to train on his own, when his mentor needed rest, spending his final day with his friend in rest to regain any energy he would need.
He'd gathered and followed a few leads while still training, simply to stay on his father's tail best he could, and still it took four more years to find what he'd searched for all this time. Now twenty-one, he stood before his father, grown and determined. He asked questions, many unanswersd - why he'd killed his wife, why he'd left his children, why he'd attacked his friends as well. "I couldn't control myself then, and now I am stronger than you would imagine." the darkness in the man's heart was shown through the crazed look in his eyes as he gazed upon his son with a blood lust.
Determined to keep his promise of return to his younger sister, he would rid the world of the monstrosity that was their father, and before much more conversation, they engaged in combat.
With the knowledge he'd gained over the years, and what he would now see before him, the once beloved father Dimitrius knew was gone, and instead stood the demonic presence. A vampire with an unquenchable thirst. The battle was short-lived, however. He was no match for a demon. His practice with dodges and parries. precise strikes and quick lunges were nothing. Silver-lined blade burned at opponent's skin, and yet as a final strike, a lunge through the heart met with a tightly gripped hand around the young man's throat. Sword plunged further into his father's heart, and quickly felt an immense pain as his father bit harshly into his flesh. Fearful of death. Fearful of his throat being simply torn from it's place, he let loose a scream and pushed at his father, trying to get away yet at the same time, dragging the blade through the other man's body. Eventually, the two of them fell together, to the ground.
Darkness overcame his mind, the last thing he heard, the voice of his friend; "begone from this world... my friend." and the sound of blunt object through flesh. He felt nothing. It was not his own, and yet everything went blank afterward.
He awoke two months later, bandaged in bed, yet when he moved to get up, he felt the restraints on his wrists and ankles. When joined by his combat mentor in the familiar room that had been his own for two years while training, he sought answers; how he had survived, how he'd gotten there, how long he had been out, why he was now restrained - all were easy - he'd been turned, the same as his father, and in the two months he'd been there, he had been very much alive, very active in fact, and very... hungry. For his own safety, Dimitrius had been restrained and kept away from others; now that he was more conscious as himself, he would be able to start learning to control his new being.
Mind simply fell on his sister, he needed to return to her, but if what was said is true, then there was no way that he would be able to keep her safe. He felt not even his mentor would be safe for long, and that night, decided to find new strength, breaking free of his bonds, and fled the home, fled the village, fled from civilization.
After running for what seemed like forever, he came across a place - a place that looked like perhaps it might have something for him. Be it strangers to feast upon, or... anything. He'd been without anything to sate his thirst for some time, and was feeling the darkness creep into his mind again. He'd barely made it to the door, before he was met by a servant of some sort, he assumed, and collapsed. Taken inside, he was given what he needed to gain his strength, and was given the privilege of meeting with who he now, in his mind, owed his life for saving him and the countless innocents that he might have slaughtered as a result of being taken over again.
Karin Renata was her name. A young looking lady, clearly one who did not fear much, especially not him. He asked but one thing of her, and that was for a safe place, where he would not harm others. In return, he would become loyal to her. This was the day his trials of controlling himself began, and his hopes of meeting with his sister again, would be renewed. First, a letter to her, to let her know that he yet lived.
It would be another century before he found that she too, lived. He couldn't decide if her fate had been better than his own, but she seemed well. They've met but twice, since then, to now. but write often.
Personality: Dimitrius is a man of mixed emotions, yet only tends to show one. His thoughts go a million miles a second, and still is usually shown with a smile across his lips. This is can be a good or a bad thing, depending on the situation. He doesn't seem to care how bad a situation is these days, instead choosing to simply smile through it. Point out the silver linings of even the darkest things, missing people or objects, wars and bloodshed, even individual deaths. It makes him seem a little insensitive, yet if one is to look deeper into those eyes, they would see centuries of sorrow.
He spends a lot of time surrounding himself with music, as it's the only thing he truly has left from his childhood. He plays his violin the most, second is piano, then all the others. He also took up playing the harp, to remind himself of his younger sister. His music sets him at ease, and if one is to ever see him while playing (which is rare, as he usually shuts himself in his room while doing so), they would see his much more vulnerable, emotional side. His music truly shows everything he is.
While always masking his more vulnerable side with a somewhat inappropriate smile, that's not to say he isn't someone that you can talk to. He is always willing to lend an ear, or shoulder to cry on if one needs it, even if he doesn't know them very well. Taking these moments to refrain from saying anything, rather than something that might offend them. His advice is always heartfelt if asked for, and despite the lie that is his happiness, Dimitrius is a very honest, trustworthy man.
That said, he is not above playful flirting, and being a general ladies' man. He enjoys women and does nothing to truly hide this, though he does keep a much more gentlemanly approach to the matter than others might in an attempt to win their hearts just enough that he might get something out of it. He is not one to truly seek a fully committed relationship, though he is not against the idea entirely...
Likes: Playful flirting, helping others, all things musical, reading, being alone, his companion Seri-Viva.
Dislikes: Ignorant beings, what he's become, large crowds, being truly alone, those without an appreciation for art, human foods.
Skills/Strengths: Dimitrius is incredibly fast, and despite the common conception of vampires being unable to walk in sunlilght, he is one of many exceptions to this rule(though it does weaken him slightly, he will not die or burn in it. Well... unless out too long, but who's not suffered even the slightest of sunburns before?)
His main skills lay in his mind, rather than body however. He's charismatic and talented in both speech and musical entertainment, also he's been recently trying his hand at writing.
Flaws/Weaknesses: Dimitrius has forced himself to live in a perpetually happy state. While most wouldn't see this as a flaw, it can be shown at all the wrong times, smiles as people are hurt, laughter as they die, which of course, has gotten him into quite a bit of trouble over the last few centuries.
He is also incredibly cocky about a good many things. What comes back to bite him is when he gets cocky in combat, however. He is not physically strong, instead relying on his speed and precise movements.
As typical as it sounds, wood is a weakness. Though while most vampires would need to be stabbed through the heart with a stake, this still is true for him(who wouldn't die if you shoved a stake through the heart though, honestly?), but much worse. Even the tiniest sliver of a splinter can cause him immense pain, writhing on the ground a he tries to remove it.
He also at the smell or sight of mass amounts of blood, he can lose himself slightly if not properly sated before hand.
Weapons/Equipment: Dimitrius has a cane that holds his rapier within it. It has an ornate mithril hilt and blade that has silver within it's edge. This does make it extremely dangerous for him to wield, but is the best protection he's ever found(this is the same blade that he used to kill his father, and has done all he could to preserve it. Despite being a roughly three hundred year old blade, it looks as though it's been forged recently.
Appearance: Dimitrius is a tall, slender man. His face is narrow and slightly long, with sharp features. His nose is straight, centered and pointed at it's tip. Lips are thin, almond shaped eyes that glow a brilliant cerulean. His hair is a dark chestnut brown that hangs pin straight to his waist, pulled back in a low ponytail by a ribbon. He dresses formally at all times preferring a tail coat over vest over a frilled, long-sleeve blouse. Around his neck is often a loose ribbon with jeweled clasp, a bow tie or straight tie. Creased slacks and a pair of black shined dress shoes. He prefers a deep burgundy colour for his suits with a very pale salmon blouse, but has also been seen wearing many other colours as well, though always seem to keep to the darker tones of blues, purples and reds with pale blouse counterparts.
He is always, almost unnervingly clean. Not a single speck of dust or lint can be found on his clothes, and his hair is always neat without a single strand out of place.
Theme Songs: Vivaldi's Four Seasons - Winter
Other: Dimitrius has a crow named Seri-Viva who he taught to talk. She's a bit of a smart ass and always seems to be on anyone's side but his, though it's very clear that while she does this, she cares very much for him, as he does her.
The name "Seri" means splendor or brightness, and she was given this name because she brings a light and richness to Dimitrius' life. Viva is simply a shortened nickname of sorts of his sister's second middle name, Vivian.
Main or Side: Side.
Username: Aya the Small

Full Name: Alabastor Tolveras
Nicknames/Titles: The Unseen Fist
Occupation: Bruiser
Birthday: Unknown, however he says it’s February 14th.
Height: 5’7
Weight: 175 lbs.
Race: Moon Elf
Sex/Gender: Male
Age: 175
Sexuality: Straight
Place of Birth: Kyora
Biography: Forever the street urchin, Alabastor was born in the gutters of society and accepted at an early age that he would die within the gutters of society. He was left abandoned shortly after his birth, and taken into a rather shady orphanage. Said orphanage would take in children who were left with nothing more to their name save the skin on their back, and train them to be thieves. Getting an elf was a boon, for they now had a thief to work for them for hundreds of years to come. He didn’t really care that he was seen more as an asset than a person, this was the only place he had. As he matured into an adult, they sent him on more dangerous hunts; hitting adventurer’s and the like. One such robbery went south for the rogue as he attempted to mug a traveling spell slinger; poor fool was hit with a spell which drained his very life essence.

Taken into an undisclosed location, he was tortured for information on who sent him and why. He wasn’t sure just how long he was kept in this place, days, weeks, months? However, the spell caster did in fact manage to extract enough information to conclude that there wasn’t anything special with this robbery. Bemused by the fact that this was simply a common burglar, the elf was then thrown to the streets to die in an alleyway. Refusing the sweet allure of death, the elf crawled back to the orphanage. As he crawled, dangerous thoughts began to fill his head; was he set up? There’s no way that someone that powerful would be mistaken for a common adventurer. He supposed they feared me might make a move to wrest control of their operation. Half-way back, or…at least he thought he was halfway back, he took what little money he had a bought himself an inn room.

Deciding that if the orphanage wanted him gone, then he should probably make himself scarce for he could not hope to challenge them alone. After spending a few days acquiring funds in various pick-pocketing schemes, he jumped onto the first ship which both fell within his budget and assured him he’d be quite the distance away; traveling to Kisoku sounded like a grand ol’ time that wasn't here. During the voyage he would fine tune his own body into a lethal weapon, albeit untrained in the martial ways, which earned him more than a few odd stares. Upon arriving to port he discovered he was low on funds again, and began his pick pocketing again. However, his rustiness overseas nearly cost him for he was founded out, and chased by those whom took offense to his ways of currency growth. He fled into the seedier parts of the islands, dodging and ducking into what looked like a tavern of which one would not ask questions they’d rather not hear. Inside, there was only one free seat at the end of a rather large table full of some of the more unsightly and dangerous looking ones of the tavern, and the end was the most dangerous of all; one by the name of Harmonie. His life quality both decreased and increased as he spoke his first words to her: “Either down that drink in one, or pass it here; I’ve had a hell of a time getting here.”

From there it was a thrilling three years of purely honest work which may or may not have involved of disposing of those who may or may not slow his new bosses down. While his thoughts often drifted to those who threw him out like garbage, what keeps him happy nowadays are the thoughts of burning them all down in a blaze of vengeance.
Likes: A warm bed, actual food, buxom waitresses, not dying, vengeance, lining his pockets.
Dislikes: Sleeping outside, weak ass booze, washboards, individuals who have a holier than thou sense about them i.e. sticks up their asses.
Skills/Strengths: Include unique abilities. Alabastor is still quite the thief, he is light on his feet, quite the pickpocket, lock-picker, all around rogue. His combat proficiency flows from his style of hand-to-hand combat, which is to cripple his opponent as quickly as possible. Alabastor has learned to snatch projectiles being sent his way, though he is only capable of stopping one or two at a time. He can focus himself to perform a stunning blow, or use sad focus to send a vast number of blows in a short amount of time. He is more of an evasive fighter, relying on not getting hit rather than wearing any sort of protective gear.
Flaws/Weaknesses: Alabastor is affected by magic more so than other’s due to the torture he endured, as in offensive magic deals more damage to him compared to another person. He would rather take on problems alone rather than with others. He has trouble hitting targets at ranged, and in general has difficulty seeing past 350 ft. He tends to keep relationships at arm’s reach.
Weapons/Equipment: His fists and his legs. Occasionally he’ll put on claws for bigger targets.
Appearance: Keeps his posture straight most of the time, has black-unkept hair which probably hasn’t been cut in a good ten years, with yellow eyes peering from behind them. A toned body is hidden behind rather plain clothes: a brown tunic, tan pants and black boots.
Theme Songs: A fun little extra I always like to include.
Inspirations: This was an old DnD character. He was a level 21 rogue/assassin who got energy drained back down to level 0; basically, a free reroll. Turned him into a Monk, and eventually a Psionic fist. This variant of Alabastor is a ‘What if he didn’t lose his thieving skills and still went Monk, with not Psionic shananagins?’
Main or Side: Main
Username: Whicipedia