(Let's try to limit the number of Marked we have. I know it's tempting but the Mark is considered a negative and if ever discovered can have serious consequences for the Marked in question.)

Appearance: Lucien takes after his grandfather, with dark, boding features and athletic stature. His hair is short and curly, often unkempt. Lucien dresses plainly after spending a considerable amount of time with common folk, especially the sailors and traders of his fathers merchant fleet.

Personality: Nostalgic at times, Lucien holds his family in somewhat mythic regard, and his personality is molded by his subconscious desire to impress. He is honorable, but has a furious temper when things do not go his way. Somewhat of a ladies man, although his romantic notions are set aside when family is concerned.

Biography: From an early age, Lucien was obsessed with the sailing vessels that regularly moored in Venara Harbor. He would insist that his father or older sister take him down to the docks to view the massive trading vessels and watch the sailors climb the masts to dizzying heights. He could not fathom at a young age, how the men could so carelessly balance on the ropes, where certain death was but a misstep away, all the while singing the joyful sounding songs to keep rhythm with their labor.

As a teenager Lucien would ditch his family bodyguards and creep aboard a vessel for a closer look. Once he climbed aboard the Inspired Maid and found himself at sea for several months where he was soon discovered. Lucien managed to conceal his identity and was put to work aboard the vessel. When a sailor serving Luciens father recognized the lad, the captain shit himself and headed for home immediately. Lord Delorano was displeased but not angry, and Lucien convinced Leon to allow him to sail on the Maid a few more times and learn to be a sailor.

On these precious few voyages, Lucien glimpsed other parts of the world, but was forbidden to leave the ship, never allowed to set foot on foreign soil. On the last voyage, the ship had a close call with a pirate sloop, and Lord Delorano forbid anymore excursions by his son. Lucien was sent to study economics and trade instead.

Lucien was in the dormitories at University when word came of his fathers death. Enraged Lucien returned home with his bodyguards seeking revenge.

Position In House Delorano: 2nd Son of Leon Delorano
Equipment:Black Cloak and Cowl, Leather jerkin, boots and trousers, Silk Tunic, Small Dagger, Flintlock Pistol, Fine Dueling Rapier. Lock of Hair from his father.
Skills: Human, +1 to choice skill (Gunnery)
Gifted: Acumen +4 , Dueling +4
Above Average: Gunnery +3, Athletics +3, Reputation +3
Deficient: Brawling -2, Archery -2
Unlisted Skills:
Athleticism
Grace
Soldiery
Skullduggery

Name: Nalia Delorano

Age: 27

Sex: Female

Race: Marked Human

Appearance:

Taking after her mother, Nalia has the Platinum Blonde hair and eerily blue eyes of the Dolona family making it rather easy to impersonate them. Her pale skin and clear complexion was the only thing she truly inherited from her Delorano blood, not that she was complaining. Due to her constant travel, she is usually always seen with a black cloak upon her shoulders, though she never wears the pauldrons or the articulated plate sleeve as seen in the photo, rather, she simply wears the lacquered breastplate and a pair of dark brown leather gloves.

Personality: Nalia is typically Sarcastic or completely serious, sometimes it can be hard to tell. If she does not know someone, she keeps her words short and clipped, not wanting to waste any more time with them than she must. The only people she ever shows any semblance of kindness to those that she may call friend, giving advice when asked and distributing punishment when needed, but only killing when not given another choice.

Biography: A child born of both the Delorano and Dolona families, Nalia was the first, and only, child of Leon and Anasi. As she grew up, she was raised to be the heir, meant to take over the family when it was time for her parents to step down… or be killed. When she was only a year old her mother came down with an illness and passed from the world, her father remarried rather quickly at the behest of those around him as none believed a woman could be a heir and that he needed a son. Despite managing to have a son only a year later, it seemed Leon was set on the oldest child being the heir, this never changed.
When the feuds were claimed, she was sent away at first as a means of protecting her, but she simply came back, refusing to be told otherwise. It was during an attack on her home that Nalia had been forced to fight to defend her family, her attacks brutal and unforgiving until she came across a male who seemed far too young to be leading an attack. As she had chased him down in his attempt to flee, she was rather far from the main house, which left her far more vulnerable than she was willing to admit to anyone.
Despite this, Nalia refused to kill the child, even went so far as to tell him to run but make sure that she never saw his face again. No… she had no desire to kill someone who was nothing but a boy, a boy whom was doing the best he could to make sure his family was going to be ok. That had been her first mistake, her second? Simply looking down at the sword that had found it’s way through her back and stomach, though it seemed to have missed any vital organs. As the blade slid from her body, she heard the sound of someone hitting the ground behind her and the oddly warm spray of blood against her back. Moving slowly, she turned to see the man that had attacked her dead on the ground, and a man standing where the other once was before her world went dark.
When she finally woke the following morning, back in her bed and her wound treated, she found what appeared to be a rather odd scar along her right forearm and bicep… she had been marked, and by what appeared to be a dragon no less.

Position In House Delorano: Heir

Equipment:

• Rapier
• Pistol
• Cloak
• Lacquered Breastplate
• Stiletto
• Draconomicon
• Standard dark brown leather gloves

Skills: Human +1 to chosen field (Dueling)

Gifted: Dueling +4 Brawling +4

Above Average: Athleticism +3, Acumen +3, Grace +3

Deficient: Archery -2, Soldiery -2

Marked Ability: Bronze Dragon - Mark is on Right Forearm, when initially given it was the color of scar tissue only to be traced over as a black tattoo in an effort to make it inconspicuous to those who do not already know her to be marked (Which is now only her First Mate as her father is deceased). Her mark gives her the ability to control liquid substances OUTSIDE the human body, however, once blood is outside it is fair game.

Unlisted Skills:

• Skulduggery
• Reputation

Side Note: Takes -1 to all Athletic checks for 30m period after unboarding ship

Name:
Otto Engel

Age:
43

Sex:
Male

Race:
Human

Appearance:


Being a foreigner from more northern lands, Otto is in fact paler than that which would be common in the region, contrasting with the dark colors of hair, kept clean, which makes for his extravagant beard and hair. He is not a tall man, standing at a mere 5’7”, roughly 170 cm, as well as boasting a slender and often remarked as frail body. Granted, no he is not extremely skinny, but he could use a few more pounds. As for wardrobe, he tends to wear darker colors despite the current fashion of the region where “color is everything,” sometimes he can be found with a linen shirt on and some trousers.

Personality:
An outwardly calm and collected man, it seems that this man is infinitely patient which is somewhat of a requirement for his job. Displaying emotion, to him, is unmanning and is something only a woman should do, among other things. Inwardly, however, he is a greedy man who will do many things if faced with a large amount of wealth.

Biography:
Otto hails from more northern lands where the climate is much more temperate than where Venara is situated. He grew up with high expectations from his father to become a proper learned man and become a nobleman. Sadly, Otto had become a doctor instead, wanting to help people out of the kindness of his heart, perhaps it was because doctors actually made a decent amount of money, who knows. The foreigner was a skilled man in his craft, helping many people from his lands.

However, Otto seemed to suddenly lose his touch at a period of time where he lost many noble patients who had requested his care. Patient after patient, death upon death. Even better is he found himself with more wealth upon the death of those patients. If one were to ask him how he felt about the deaths of those, he would say he did not feel much in the ways of their deaths. After the death of a nobleman, he had to flee his home country to go to Venara where he met Leon Delorano after helping to treat one of his sicknesses and soon found him employed under him.

Years later the death of Leon’s wife came over the family, he would say it affected him deeply but he would hardly express his concerns. The same with the death of Eduardo Perfori. He remained the Head Healer of the house doing his best to offer advice to the grieving ones while he continued to operate as normal as ever. Soon, Leon had died, this death truly affected him, and he began grieving for many weeks for his fallen friend.

Position In House Delorano: Head Healer

Equipment:

• Cane
• Stiletto
• Black Coat
• A small pouch of money

Skills: Human, +1 to choice skill (Grace)
Gifted: +4 Grace, +4 Reputation
Above Average: +3 Brawling, +3 Acumen, +3 Skullduggery
Deficient: -2 Dueling, -2 Gunnery

Name: Lorenzo Delorano

Age: 25

Sex: Male

Race: Human

Appearance: Lorenzo is tall, standing about 6'2" or 188cm. His face and features are mix between the houses of Gatterro and Delorano. When he is not dressed in the armour gifted to him by house Gatterro he is dressed in Noblemen’s garb which is usually laced with deep blues and greens to compliment the color in his blue eyes. His armour is new and clean as he has been shielded from fighting in any true life threatening situations. He walks strong with an air of superiority, his chin up and a suave smile perched on his lips.

Personality: Lorenzo is flirtatious and smooth. He has an obnoxious charm about him that is partnered with an overwhelming confidence in what he does and who he is. Due to his upbringing his superiority complex can be taxing on anyone in his general vicinity. All in all he's a flirt who thinks he is the best thing brought to the world since sliced bread.

Biography: Lorenzo was born within the walls of house Gatterro to Fiona Delorano and Richard Gatterro. His adolecent years were spent learning of both family histories as well as an in depth training in the art of swordplay. His hours spent without study were spent in organized duelling. From a very young age he was raised to believe that he was the most important person between the two families being the first born son in both houses and also being the bridge that binds the houses together.

In his early teenage years he spent his free time courting the servants until one learned of a pregnancy. He never admitted to being the father and slandered her for being a slut. The baby was stillborn with no knowledge as to what caused this to happen, only himself, his mother and the servant knew the truth behind her baby.

It was shortly after this that his father Richard passed on from plague leading to Lorenzo and his mother Fiona to move back into house Delorano. At this house, Lorenzo learned more in depth the history of the family and grew some relationships with his cousins.

Throughout his life Lorenzo received both admiration and hostility for carrying the blood of both families.

Position In House Delorano: Son of Fiona, Cousin to the children of Leon

Equipment: Custom made armour, forged for him on behalf of his father made in Gatterro and barring the crests of house Gatterro and house Delorano. He also carries an artfully crafted sword, the house crests marked on either side of the hilt named Arabella after the still born baby he lost. Though he is the only one who knows the reasoning behind the name chosen for his weapon of choice.

Skills: Human +1 to chosen field (Duelling)

Gifted: Duelling and Reputation

Above Average: Athleticism, Skulduggery and Brawling

Deficient: Gunner and Archery

Unlisted: Soldiery, Grace and Acumen

Name: Pieter DeSielva the Younger

Age: 24

Sex: Male

Race: Human

Appearance: A handsome youth with a wide, cheerful face. Always wearing clothing that's ahead of the current fashion trends, sometimes setting the tone for the Vanaran season. Pieter almost always carries a musical instrument, and carries his sketching supplies with him in a leather satchel. Pieter wears a meticulously kept flintlock, and will occasionally sport a showy side-sword, though he hardly knows how to use it. Very few people know that he hides a poisoned stiletto on him.



Personality: Loud, flamboyant, charming, witty, brilliant. Pieter is a natural in the courts of the nobles. His detractors would call him a sycophant, though few would dare say that in front of his friends, who are numerous and loyal. Pieter is a regular fixture among Vanaran artists, frequently collaborating and assisting his friends in their works. Pieter is Behind his excessive braggadocio, however, is a cunning spy and, if need be, a cruel assassin Pieter is deeply loyal to the House of Delorano, and grieved deeply for the loss of Leon, vowing to protect and serve the future of the House as best he could.

Biography: Born to the successful Venaran painter, Pieter the Elder who was patronized by Leon Delarno. Pieter's mother died in childbirth giving birth to him. Pieter the Elder took his young son with him everywhere, and when Leon Delarno learned of Pieter's plight, he offered for Pieter the Younger to share Lucien's wet nurse. Leon and Pieter the Elder had as much a friendship as two men of such different classes could. As Pieter grew older, his father taught him his craft, expecting his son to follow him in his stead as a painter for nobility. His father also taught Pieter his first musical instrument, the pan pipes. Pieter was a frequent play mate of Lucien, and Nalia, when she was younger. When Pieter was 10 his father was mortally wounded after getting attacked by a jealous artist seeking Leon's favor. Saddened by the loss of his friend and favorite artist, Leon chose to take Pieter the Younger into his household. As Pieter grew older, he developed an even deeper love of music, throwing himself bodily into the pursuit. He was the constant companion of Lucien, being his closest conspirator, and later, Lorenzo. Pieter had played lookout for Lucien when he snuck aboard the Maid. Pieter spent some time as a scene painter and troubadour with a thespian troupe on the mainland for a while, seeing more of the world. He returned to Vanara shortly before the plague befell the city. During the plague, Pieter became something of a spy for Anathagos Vain, using his grace and charm as an asset for his beloved house. Since the death of Leon, Pieter's efforts have doubled in his desire to save his adopted House.

Position In House Delorano: Courtesan, House Musician, Spy

Equipment: Mandolin, Pan Pipes, pianoforte (in his chamber), an incredibly stylish wardrobe, art supply satchel, flintlock, poisoned stiletto.

Skills:

(Human: Grace +1)

Gifted: Grace, Skullduggery

Above Average: Athleticism, Craft, Awareness

Deficient: Brawling, Soldiering

Name: Juniper Delorano

Age: 15

Sex: Female

Race: Human

Appearance:

While Juniper has some of the traits of her family, she feels as if she got the ones that were meant to be left behind on the cutting floor. Her body has seemingly only grown upwards, and with her narrow hips and gangly arms she looks more like a child that has been stretched on a rack rather than a young woman. Her brown, dry hair is chopped just beneath her chin, and it seemingly cannot decide if it would rather lay straight or curl up. Her brown eyes are bloodshot and baggy, and almost always looks as if she had just finished up having a nice, long cry. Her skin is pale but, unlike her aunt or her sister, her fair complexion has been fighting a long, tiresome war of attrition with the dark forces of puberty, and while the acne outbreaks have finally seemed to retreat in force evidence of lost battles can still be seen dotting her cheeks and forehead. For someone who claims that she doesn’t give a damn about how she looks, Juniper spends quite a lot of time preening herself in mirrors and tends to wear clothes that are less revealing (because she fears that then people would see the already obvious fact that she has nothing to reveal).



Personality: According to Juniper’s tutor, a noble lady should be polite, caring, and patient. How he came to this horseshit conclusion Juniper cannot say, but it only serves as the ammo she needs to convince herself that it is much more wise to act the way she does. Although young, Juniper has mastered the fine art of being discourteous and disrespectful, knows more foul words than even the saltiest of sailors, and can easily hold a grudge that, if she were an elf, could imaginably outlast even the longest of Blood Feuds. She’s rather sick of how everyone in Old Venara loves putting on airs and refuses to play her part in their pageantry, and has grown even more distant and moody after the death of her parents. In other words, although she shies away from being a model young lady, she’s quite happy with falling into the typical trappings of being a shitty, envious, self-centered teenager.



Biography: Juniper will forever be the baby of the family, even if she has begun to spoil like forgotten milk as she has aged. She did not get to spend much time with her siblings thanks to the gap in their age, although she had certainly tried to tag-along when she could. Still, even in her happiest childhood memories of her siblings, which are few and far between, she can only remember herself as being an outside observer, a tiny pair of eyes peeking out from behind a closed window or as a stumbling pair of small feet unable to keep up with them as they ran ahead to the pier. Yet, despite not being part of their clique, Juniper felt that she was the one who got punished for the mistakes of her siblings. Nalia may have been the one wounded by the blade of an enemy or Lucien may have been the one to stow away on a ship, but it was Juniper who was kept under lock in their manor lest she tried to imitate her brother or sister.

During these times the only person in her family that she was really close with was her mother. Her father was there, yes, and he saw to it that she was educated and sheltered, but he was busy a man. It was her mother that nurtured her, that told her that she was sweet, that she was smart, that she was special, and in a way she was, spending most of her time cooped up in her home with plenty of time to toy with her hobbies when she wasn’t throwing a fit or being moody. Yet while Juniper was kept sheltered from the plague, her mother was not. Her father, fearful that his daughter might catch the disease that ate away at his wife, kept her barred from visiting her mother as she faded away and, inevitably, succumbed to the sickness.

It strained their already tepid relationship. She needed someone to blame for her mother’s death, and she couldn’t blame the plague—you don’t curse the axle of a wagon when it breaks and makes you late to a soiree, you curse the driver. During the years after her mother’s death, she and her father often butted heads over even the smallest of things. Servants could determine the location of Juniper at all times by following the slamming of doors and the rattling of china, and the prolonged absence of these noises often would put the house on alert, because it meant that the youngest daughter of their lord had yet again snuck out while under their watch. Still, she did not truly hate her father; it’s a shame she had to become an orphan to realize that.

Now, Juniper finds herself without the mother who cared for her or the father that sheltered her, her life hung in an uncertain balance that is to be determined by relatives that are more strangers to her than anything else.



Position In House Delorano: 4th child and youngest daughter of Leon Delorano.



Equipment: Juniper is never seen without her mother's hand-me-down hair clip except for when she sleeps. Even when she's home the girl keeps a set of lock picks and a small letter opener tucked safely away in her garter, and she has three pistols and the key to her father's gun case stashed away in a lock box beneath her bed in case she ever needs to go out.



Skills:
Racial: Human, +1 to chosen field (Gunnery)

Gifted: Gunnery +4, Athleticism +4


Above Average: Brawling +3, Skulduggery +3, Reputation +3


Deficient: Acumen -2, Grace -2


Unlisted: Soldiery, Archery, Dueling

Name: Jacques “Uncle Jack” DeLorano
Age: 52
Sex: Male
Race: Human
Appearance:

Personality: A “free soul” if you will, Jacques is easy-going and light-hearted. His legendary drinking habits are only matched by the infamy of his sense of humor. Having spent the last nearly four decades travelling every manner of land imaginable made him very open minded and accepting of others. However as many a would-be mugger found out when their blades broke on his chain shirt – the old soldier is not to be trifled with.

Biography: The older brother to Leon and Fiona, Jacques was at one time set to become the next Patriarch of the House Delorano. However the life stuck inside the city walls was suffocating to the young man, and at the age of 17 he instead chose to defy his father and join the military, handing the position of heir to his beloved younger brother Leon. Old man Delorano was furious and disinherited Jacques outright, leaving him with nothing. But little did he know about how few damns the kid had to give.

Since then he spent the last thirty-five years serving the Venaran military as their infiltrator. If ever there was a destination that Venaran ships pointed their bows at – you can be sure Jacques was there months in advance; spying, sabotaging and supporting the forces from the ground. He has long since lost count of all the lands, cultures, wines and, ahem, women he sampled in his endless travels. From exotic foods, sands and silks of Abbadar to the damp cobblestone walls of the Greayscale Peak’s dungeons – he’s seen it all.

Speaking of the dungeons of Greyscale Peak , it was there that Jacques met his long time brother –in-arms Fiore. The nine foot tall Talossian had an outstanding propensity for punching things until they exploded, which honestly was at times more useful than any dagger. Not keen on being executed the two have orchestrated a prison break, set the castle on fire and fled the country together, traveling side by side ever since.

That was some… eight years ago? Since then, side by side, the two have journeyed through a dozen lands, earning a fair bit of coin and gathering a sturdy entourage of good hardy men to have their backs.
Truly a life worth a thousand tales; Jacques has never once regretted his decision to leave Venara. That is until the day that an unusual letter arrived from Leon. The two brothers kept in touch throughout the years so it wasn’t out of the norm to get letters, but this one was… heavy. Delivered by hand with urgency and sealed with a blood seal it did not bode well. His beloved brother and the house Delorano itself were in peril, and he was urged to return as soon as humanly possible. Not willing to waste a moment Jacques and Fiore gathered their men, solicited the nearest merchant vessel and set off towards the great city of Venara. For the first time in over ten years…

Position In House Delorano: Drunk uncle. Admiral.
Equipment:
Chain shirt under clothes (always)
Ornate saber
Two daggers
Two pistols
Flask of Whiskey (always)

Skills:
Human: +1 to Athleticism
Gifted: Brawling, Reputation
Above Average: Gunnery, Skulduggery, Dueling
Deficient: Archery, Soldiery

Marked Ability: Unknown Dragon Mark. Jacques has never found out what ability his mark gave him, or even where exactly it was on his body (he just assumed it was in some unpleasant area he was not flexible enough to look into). And although his numerous close calls with death made him wonder whether it was luck, skill or magic that made him pull through, frankly, he never cared enough to find out for sure.

Name : Willhelm Fiore von Ossau
Age : 43
Sex : Male

Race : Marked Talosian

Appearance : Fiore is nine feet tall and of thick muscular build. He sports the long hair and beard of his people.



Personality : Fiore is a boisterous drunk who enjoys feast, alcohol and violence at a rarely equaled pace. He drinks in the noblest houses and in the seediest bars. He fights in the most prestigious tournaments and in the shadiest fighting pits and he wins.

Biography : Fiore was born to a noble family established in the Laurelian piedmont. Heir to nothing but a title, he, as his people’s custom dictates, went on his way to make his own glory and cut himself a way into history.
He responded to his country’s call to arms with only his arms, mount, armor and enough money for 2 weeks of food and housing. The second sons of his rural country contributed disproportionately to the Laurelian’s army in both numbers and might. This small but illustrious part of the army, in the absence of any professional status or clearly defined chain of command tended to band and sometimes to syndicate into mercenary companies. Such companies preceded and survived the conclusion of wars, taking on various contracts.
Fiore affiliated one such company and in this context found himself travelling far and wide guarding caravans, defending villages and wealthy merchants, hunting down warlords and laying waste to criminal organizations; sometimes accompanied, often alone.
It is one such travel in the Grey Peaks that Fiore found himself by a group of creedless Talossian mercenaries and thrown into one of the mountain’s darkest dungeons. In this dungeon he became cellmate with a shrewd old Venaran noble with a chip on his shoulder and plans outside of this hole.
Together they planned and schemed grand entreprises in the pitch black of their cell. It was those conversations that kept their mind running and kept them from losing their minds.
Eventually after costly trial and error they figured a way out of the dungeon and Fiore punched his way through their captors rank with his bare hands, leaving a trail of splattered heads and torn limbs.

Equipment :
Maria : A feisty and stubborn dracoth mare. Nine feet tall at the neck.


Munition grade plate


Spadone : A nine feet long two-handed sword.


Schiavona : A 5 feet basket-hilted broadsword.


Pair of wheellock pistols : A pair of Talosian sized wheellock pistols.


Skills :
Gifted : Duelling, Gunnery
Above Average : Athleticism, Brawling, Reputation
Deficient : Archery, Grace

Marked ability : Talos