Firen

The most numerous of the humans, the Firen pride themselves on their ability to talk their way out of any conflict while being able to back up any words with action. They are different in most physical traits, yet they all are equal under their devotion to the God's as well as their King. Though they suffered many defeats during their quest against the cultist forces the Firen people still can boast about having the largest army in all the land.

Glamhoth

The humans of the north are called Glamhoth, and they pride themselves on battle and raids. They are considered by outsiders to be a barbaric race of human; who are only found fighting, eating, drinking and making love to pass the time. The truth is much more complicated. They place little value on the life of an outsider, and their strict religious codes grant them the right to challenge those who believe in the new gods to a duel, with death a perfectly acceptable outcome. This is not to say that they are without kindness, compassion, and understanding. Among their kin, they are a friendly and generous race. With each sharing what they have to those in need, and each celebrating the life and death of their friends with drinks and boastful tales of their exploits in battle. Even though they view outsiders with a cautious, and often aggressive eye, they treat every last one of their kin with an air of respect and kindness. If one were to gain the trust of just one Glamhoth soldier, they too will often be allowed to share in this kinder side.

Lavas

The Lavas folk are the most prosperous of all the human races. They are the master shipbuilders, sailors and traders that claim home to most of the south coast, and many islands that dot the sea. Their ships are fast, and their soldiers well trained in the art of naval warfare. Though money has corrupted many in this nation. They are a greedy people, often compared to the likes of Dwarves, valuing coin and lavish parties to any other need. For with coin, they can buy food, and at these parties they can gain favor; favor is almost as important as money itself inside the Lavas lands. They like to play the Grand Game, where people's life and fortune are put on the line in a test of wit and charisma. Grand Cleric Orion said it best when he said: “I'd rather deal with an angry Glamhoth warrior than a friendly Lavas noble, for at least the Glamhoth can be made to see reason!”

Lebethron

The Elves of the eastern woods are known as the Lebethron, a race of Elves who claim on the woods have stretched back for as long as recorded history has. Many times have both Humans and Dwarves attempted to lay claim to these woods, for the trees are strong and the land plentiful, but each and any time an army invaded they were driven back by a fury of arrows from the top of the trees, from their rear, and from every direction; or so the story goes. The Lebethron are a very long lived people, with most reaching around several hundred years old while some even reach a thousand years in age. As such, they are the considered to be the keepers of history, with their libraries long sought after by scholars from the human races.

Mûl
The Mûl are the Elves who either left their ancestral homeland or forced from it. They are forced into a world who's traditions and customs are very strange to these elves. Most Mûl becomes one of two things when they leave their homeland, a sellsword where they fight for others or they’re captured and forced into servitude for many of the other races. They are more aggressive than their Lebethron brothers, but also more cunning. They are forced, often from an early age to steal and murder. They make perfect assassins and thieves thanks to their light feet and quick hands.

The half-elves often fall into this race.

Andrann

The Andrann Elves are of the forest and the fortress, Galadhon, to the far west and are some of the most powerful mages in all of the Dalan. The Lebethron Elves once held a great fear of magic and it's uses. Five hundred years ago a law was set up that banned the use of magic and imprisoned those who had the gift. It was only natural, that three hundred years ago, the Great migration occurred. Angry at being abused by their brothers, a large group mages and their families moved revolted, breaking their fellow mages out of prison and fled west. It was here they rediscovered the abandoned stronghold of Galadhon and claimed it as their own. They rebuilt it, making the walls stronger with magic infused with each new stone. In the years since the humans from Lavas and Glamhoth have tried to reclaim this great fortress. Each attempt was turned back under a torrent of fire and ice, and with arrows that exploded on contact. Their foot soldiers boast light armor and weapons infused with magical properties.

Dwarven races

Anfangrim


The Anfangrim are a rather large tribe of Dwarves who claim hold over the great Iron Bottom Mountains that bisect the land in two. They are a stout and proud people who value a good story almost as much as gold. They spent their days defending their gates against goblins and mining deep into the depths. of the land before retiring back, spending their nights drinking to tales of Dragon Slayers and hidden treasure. Their fortune is only surpassed by those of the Lavas people, and only because their ships carry the Anfangrim trade to other parts. They have a close relation to the Lavas, both understand the power of money. Yet both will often mock each other in public, as the Anfangrim people value combat while the Lavas loves the game.

Hadhodrim

The Hadhodrim are the Dwarves of the Northern range which covers much of the northern barrier of the land. They are not as wealthy as those of the Anfangrim, yet they are much better warriors and inventors. They pride themselves on their craftsmanship, with their swords and armor a sought after commodity. They also pride themselves on new and creative weapons, with rumors of a weapon that sparks fire and roars louder than a dragon reaching the other races. They often fight the Glamhoth in the north over the limited resources, yet they keep a close relationship with those barbarians. Often times if a battle was to be fought, the two forces would gather together the night before, eat and drink until they could do so no more, and wish the other side luck in the fight the next morning. Indeed, the conflict has dropped significantly between these two races as they grow closer.

Surface Dwarves

Surface Dwarves are the Dwarves who have, for one reason or another, been forced out of the mountains. The other clans of Dwarves never accept an outsider, so often they are forced into many different criminal enterprises. The Vani is a prime example of a Dwarf combing their effective work structure to a gang, as the Vani have risen to be one of the most dangerous and profitable gangs in the land. While you will not exclusively find surface dwarves as gang members, with many excelling as sellswords and bards, it is an accepted fact back in the mountains that most surface dwarves are not to be trusted.

Over the course of thousands of years, countless numbers of demons and otherwise alien creatures have invaded the world. Many bring back slaves from this land, and others are made slaves with a bit o' magic tampering. Others, as soon as the summoner died or something of the like, were loosed in the world, and most were forcibly shoved back into the Hell they came from, if not outright slain.

And then you have leftovers. Orcs, Goblins, Bugbears, the whole mess of things. Some are decent mages, as they descend from unwilling Elves, humans, and Dwarves, and others are decent warriors. 90% of the time, they fit in with the next army and get themselves killed in a big war...or something like that.

Then you got 10%. Half of those are wanderers - hobos, vagrants, bandits, bards, cartographers, etc. They're as hardy as the rest of them when it comes to traveling, but in the face of danger, they tend to panic a little too much. After all, nobody bothered to tell them that bears live in caves. Makes sense as to why they're usually just fodder, right?

The other half bear the most semblance to what could've been their races if it weren't for some meddling eldritch force selling them to the biggest sacrifice. Distinct cultures and exotic weapons come into play here. Among those races that can forge, the Hobgoblins are most righteously deserving of their title.

Hobgoblins are renowned for their expertise with fire, or more specifically, what they can make with it. As coined by their "favorite creatures", the Humans, Hobgoblins are great cooks and ironsmiths and specialize in various steels from just about every kind of metal you toss at them. This puts them at odds with a few other races (or, did, in the dwarves' case; you don't see too many Hobs for a reason) for the honor of being the best craftsmen, but considering the Hobs (for short) just got their distinction from the rest of their ilk not too long ago, it isn't surprising to say that the Hobs were given the benefit of the doubt when their blacksmiths opened up. Like orcs, they love to use lamellar designs, as they're light, maneuverable, and protective for all their troubles, using as little steel as possible (because from where the goblinoids originated, most iron was refined via iron sand. Large chunks of ore were unheard of.) Their skin tones, unlike those of their greenish-yellowish-rainbowish colored brethren, are always shades of gray and are a lot more matte because of their hygienic nature. They have eyes the color of gold, amber, and ruby, and stand about the same height as humans, as well as stand in the same weight range. Rumors say that the hobs have a bit o' man blood in them, which might be true, considering there's also a million hues of half-hobs half-men and whatnot running around the world without a surname to stick onto themselves...or well, wherever they came from.

In terms of being assets for war, they boast more dexterity and strength than their run-of-the-mill counterparts, but are best known for being the smiths of the fallen heroes' armors - again, one cannot stress enough that they can manipulate metal as though it were a draught made by dwarves' hands. Hardening, tempering and honing are children's play to them. It's also why they're one of the most hated races in this land.

Just a forethought: only one clan of these Hobs are truly, truly submissive and friendly - the Aulds. As the name implies, they're probably among the first Hob clans to get around to being smiths, and as such, have developed the most stable culture. To protect themselves from magic that would otherwise enslave them to the will of others, they have developed high-pressure forging of raw iron, as 'cold iron' has the damnably strange property of attracting and deflecting magic. Protection is decent, at best, because they're nomads. Iron isn't always so plentiful at times, and elves willing to accept the coin for protection enchantments are even harder. Traditional forging has become a bit of an uncertainty with the Aulds.

Off in the Western Ocean, there is a series of archipelagoes and islands that are so expansive that they are the entire world for several nations. Inhabited only by humans, these island chains are referred to in their native tongue as the Land. Not having contact with the mainland for over a millennium, their culture and magic developed in an entirely different way. Because of the danger of flooding and other natural disasters, magic and the culture as a whole has evolved to advocate maintaining a harmony within nature.

Among the archipelagoes, there still exist violent raiding societies that will roam in long boats, threatening the other peaceful settlements. Although resistance to attack is expected, to seek the violent destruction of these groups is considered horrific by the rest of the societies, and rather peaceful envoys occasionally approach the raiding groups, seeking to enlighten them.

Magic is primarily focused on channeling the weather, healing the ill, and other activities that improve the life of others. Combat magic is unheard of, though there are several schools of magic that teach their students how to combat forces of darkness, as well as several games popular with Mages that have been adopted centuries ago from magical combat drills.

The mainland made contact with the Land only 50 years prior when a deep water Lavas trade vessel was blown off course and was rescued by a group of far-flung fishers. Since then, there's been a steady growth in trade between Lavas and the Land over the years. Lavas nobles value the exotic goods the Land sends, while the Sunset Islanders all enjoy the goods made by the Dwarves.

Although there are embassy's in major Lavasian cities, and a dedicated port city for Lavasian vessels, the Sunset Islanders have chosen to keep interaction between the two at a minimum, aware that there is a danger in opening the door all the way with these sometimes untrustworthy strangers. Hearing about the Mad King, several dozen of the best Mages began to travel to the mainland

Name:

Gender:

Age:

Race: (I will allow custom races, but I need a thing or two from you. First, you'll need the culture and religion of the race, provided with a location of where they call home. Next, I need a basic history of your race, what wars they fought etc. On my go, this will become an official race that others can join if they see fit.)


Appearance: (Descriptions are preferred, but if you find a picture I'll take it. Just no anime pictures.)

Personality: (Who is your character? What do they fight for? Don't make this part bland or cliche, but not overly long either. Enough detail for us to know your character but leave enough for us to uncover in the story.)

History: (Give us the basics, a paragraph or two will be sufficient. Though I do ask you put something noteworthy in this section, an act or action that would have placed your character under the label of ‘hero’ or ‘heroine’.)


Equipment: (Anything that you carry. No detail is needed unless it warrants it. Sword, shield, and backpack with supplies? Have them in a simple, bullet point list. A family sword with a special and beautiful design? Best explain how it looks ;) )

Example post: (I ask that you write an example post, no longer than two solid paragraphs but at least a few sentences in length, with your character responding to the question I asked in the text wall speech above. All I ask is that you react if someone else posts before you somehow.)

Other: (Anything else we might need to know. Be it special skills, such as your character being able to play a musical instrument, random bits of information to small to include elsewhere, what have you.)

Thou shall not be a dick. Seriously, no arguing here or in the IC thread. Take it to a pm.

Thou shall not be caught god modding. No explanation here, the golden rule so to speak of any RP.

Thou can die. Don't make stupid decisions ;)

Thou shall have fun. If we don't have fun, then what's the point?

Name: Lupin Silvanos

Gender: Male

Age: 310 years old

Race: Half-elf, Half-dwarf His mother was a Mûl and his father was a Surface Dwarf, they were in the same mercenary group and became to rely on each other skills to survive. His mother was a great Warmage and his father an unlikely but impressive Ranger.

Appearance: Lupin stands at 5'11" tall, with dark tanned skin and long fire red hair that is cut short on the sides and the middle kept long and runs down past his shoulders. On the right side of the top of his head is a skeleton screaming tattoo and on the left side is a tattoo of a crown of an ancient tree. His face is rounder than that of an elves with rounder eyes and his ears are more pointed than his elven heritage. On his face he has a black streak that goes over his eyes, underneath his right eye is a tattoo in the shape of a crescent moon and on the top of his left eye is a tattoo of an eclipsed sun. He also has a long fire red beard that goes past his chest. He has a much broader figure from his dwarven father but is still lean and toned in muscle density. He wears brightly colored robe like clothing and his armor which is mostly leather and chain mail are colored in the fashion of dark blue, grey and black.



Personality: Lupin is stubborn and bold from his fathers side as well as tactile and a smooth talker that he got from his mom. He has lived a nomadic life so has never had a place to call his home. He wants all the finer things in life, a house, comfortable furniture, all the finest spirits and herbs easily at his disposal. He works hard towards that goal. He likes to drink when he is not working, often partying for days after a big job and smokes natural hallucinogenic drugs all the time and speaks in a laid back tone because of it. He is also kind of greedy and loves a good treasure hunt.

History: Lupin was born into a tribe of nomadic mercenaries, he grew up never having a real home except for the people that were part of the tribe. Always traveling where the work was, since he was a child he was trained to be a warrior, to fight fiercely and effectively with all manner of weapons. And once his magical powers began to appear he was trained in many sorts of magic that would help him become a more effective fighter.

After centuries of being a mercenary he grew tired of the lifestyle of always moving and never settling down in one place, so after his parents had died from battle he decided to leave the tribe. He wanted a home and all the luxuries it provided, not to die old and never getting a chance to rest and enjoy the luxuries the world had to offer. He found that bounty hunting was a way to get to that goal. The jobs paid more, it allowed him to work alone so he didn't have to share his profits and still let him travel whenever he felt like it.

Lupin became very good at his job, he saved villages from murderers, demonic summoners, cultists, thieves, etc. bringing them all to justice and earned him the respect of many people. He would play the role nicely thanking the people and saying things that would make him sound like a real humanitarian, but always making sure he got paid in full. It's not like he doesn't care about the places he helps, he does care, but the feel of money is what really motivates him to take on such jobs.

Equipment:
• 2 Khopesh style swords
• Short bow with waist quiver
• Assortment of wands hidden in his robes
• Tightly wrapped backpack
• Robes with leather and chain mail armor
• Rope
• Spell book
• Deck of blank, enchanted cards
• Assorment of bombs that flash light, make a loud bang or cover an area in smoke

Example post: Lupin was getting up after guzzling a pint of spirits, the night called to him and he wished to embrace its promise of well deserved sleep before a man came into the tavern ordered a round of food and drink for all. How could he turn that down he thought to himself as he sat back down and held the free drink in his hands as he listened to the man talk. He heard the man spin a tale of failed victory that their efforts only delayed what was coming.

"Eh old man, I have a few questions," he said as he got up again and wobbled a little bit, "if they are such a threat, why have we not seen a large gathering of demons and the like in years? Sure there are small packs of them, hiding in the shadows, I have dealt with such men. But an army? Someone would have seen something of that size by now. How can you be so sure it's not a conspiracy of the nobles to keep us in check? Where is your proof?." He spat out, putting both his hands on the table and leaned towards the man, waiting to hear a reply.

Other:
Absorption magic - Lupins magical specialty is able to absorb spells, but requires much of his focus and hand movements, he is able to then transfer the spell back to his opponent, or attach them to a sealing item where they can be released and used at another time.
Enchanted deck of cards - These enchanted items are able to seal away spells that Lupin absorbs and stores in the cards, then he reveals the card he is using with his left hand and placing his right hand with two fingers upright by his lips and the rest of his hand closed, he then says "unleash" to activate the card in his left hand and releases the spell contained in it.
Inherited talents - He has keen sight and hearing even in the dark, he has minor resistance to magical spells, good at repairing his equipment, agile and strong.
Martial Skills - Trained in the style of all manner of combat, to be able to effecienct with the sword, bow and hand to hand combat. For swords his style is like a dance, his bow quick and powerful in short - medium range and his hand to hand combat skills focus on pressure points to slow down or knock out his opponents and then finish them off with his weapons.
Sleight of hand - Lupin is trained to be able to make things appear and disappear, often used with his cards to trick his opponents before he uses them.

Name: Craster Eldruin

Gender: Male

Age: ???

Race: Andrann

Appearance: The face of the elf known as Craster is unknown to most, for the lithe male will never be seen without a brazen-coloured mask. There are foul rumours claiming that behind the mask, Craster is nought more than a withered corpse; the shell of a once great elven mage. But the voice of the elf is soft, and starkly contrasts the age-old stories which tell of him.

Craster stands an inch or so above six feet, and appears to be ectomorphic in stature. Aside from his trademark mask, he is usually clad in fine, grey coloured cloth, leaving nothing exposed to the air. The cloth itself is wrapped around his torso and limbs, accented with golden trim and occasionally plated with light, bronze armour. The armour in question focuses mostly on his spaulders, gauntlets, and greaves, protecting him from rare instances of close combat. Strangely, the metal seems to be forged into the shape of various grim faces; a staple of fear amongst passersby. The fabric of his shawl is wrapped into a hood, which shades all visible traits of his head aside from the neutral expression of the humanoid mask. Occasionally, dark hair may be seen escaping from the head-wrap beneath the mask.





Personality: Craster is forlorn and cryptic, and often seems to speak in riddles and poetry. He is incredibly literate and is acutely fond of books, and is capable of finding interest even in the most poorly written of prose. Familiars should not be fooled by Craster's soft-spoken nature however, as the elf is a being of loose morals, and thinks little of toying with the concepts of life and death. Craster is a strategist and a schemer, and has no qualms with the usage of pawns and flesh shields; perhaps being the last to turn back for an ally in the midst of danger. Though selfish in that aspect, Craster has few boundaries when it comes to doing as he is asked. He deems every journey and action as a learning opportunity, and takes pride in teaching naive Lords and nobles that the deaths of their loved ones can never truly be turned backwards.

Craster takes residence in an old outpost somewhere outside of central civilisation. He has claimed the title of apothecary, and sells a variety of elixirs and ointments designed to extract disease and illness for a mild price.

History: Little is known regarding the true origins of Craster, and he will always claim that he can barely remember it himself. The elf was once a powerful and vain wielder of fire magic, able to conjure and twist even the most dwindling sources of light. Through his intricate prowess and wisdom, Craster had unknowingly accumulated a small posse of followers, and thus became a mentor to many aspiring mages. But Craster's insatiable desire for knowledge would prove to be his downfall, and the elf sought deeper magic. As he gazed into the fire, he discovered a much darker flame. This flame was small and twisted and provided no light, and the avaricious mage did not hesitate when he took the flame and absorbed it into his breast.

Prolonged life, endless pain. Such were the punishments for Craster's greed. In the shade of exile, he practised his dark spells; conjuring artificial life and reanimating the cadavers of animals. He quickly learned the flaws within this black magic, understanding that crippled corpses would remain crippled, and that the souls dragged from the netherworld would soon perish once more, for they did not belong in the material world.

Rumours of the necromancer in the outpost spread quickly to the capital, and the Lord of coin soon summoned him into his presence. But the Lord's intentions were not ill, for he seeked a way to reverse the death of his daughter, who had been taken by infection. With little thought or explanation, Craster agreed, and so conjured dark words above the corpse of the deceased maiden. But the Lord was horrified by the presentation of his daughter, who wheezed painfully and moved stiffly, and whose face still bore the bloody nature of her infection. The girl could not speak, nor did she understand the words spoken to her. Instead, she only reacted to the haunting tinker of a bell, which hung from the mage's halberd. Demanding to know what Craster had done to his beloved, the necromancer spoke softly.

"You asked for life, and I gave you life. But her soul is gone, long lost to wind. Death may die, but her soul lies eternal, and no one may ever reach it but the God's themselves. And I am no God, dearest Lord. There is no solution for death, but perhaps you might ought to work on preventing it from the start."

Craster's words ran deep, and he was soon summoned once more. This time the Lord had learned the ways of death, and now sought after the cure for his wife's ailment, who had fallen into the same pit as her daughter before. With time, pain, and patience, the conjurer dragged the sickness from her body over a course of days, dispelling its miasma into a small vial which he then stored carefully into his satchel. The Lady's recovery sparked strange respect for the necromancer, who modestly retreated to his outpost abode despite being offered the position of Court Mage at several establishments.

Equipment:
♦ Shepherd's Bell
The Shepherd's Bell is a glaive whose pole extends past head-height when tapped onto the floor. It is crafted from dark hardwood and reinforced by climbing metallic 'vines', which eventually blend into the brazen blade. A small, tinkering bell hangs from the curve of the blade, engraved with archaic symbols often too worn to make out. The bell is the tool of Craster's abilities, serving as the control point for all reanimated corpses, shepherding them in their actions.
♦ Apothecary Satchel
A sack of medicinal herbs, trinkets and poisons; the source of Craster's trade.

Other: Craster bears a strange, acute sense of smell. He can smell even the earliest stages of disease and infection, and seems to be able to detect dark creatures some time before they make an appearance. In the wilderness, Craster is also able to tell apart edible fauna from poisonous fauna, and makes a point of collecting both. Though his affinity for true fire has long dwindled, the former archmage is still highly knowledgeable on arcane subjects, and is sometimes still able to create sparks which can be used to kindle torches and bonfires.

Name: Renael Maileen

Gender: Female

Age: 440

Race: Andrann


Appearance:
Renael stands at a very unimposing 5' 5", with an average build, and an elegant posture that leaves the impression she's very proud. Her skin is a very dark brown, like that of freshly turned earth, and she boasts visible scarring around her wrists. A waist length mane of curly black hair rests somwhat-neatly atop her head. Her eyes are a vivid red and she often looks as if she's "staring into someone's soul". She likes her appearance kept simple, with her robes varying between solid colors-- commonly blue, red, and purple. Gold hoops and studs decorate her ears and a solid gold chain rests around her neck.



Personality:
The first thing someone could note about Renael is her obnoxiously non-serious nature. Jests and playfulness act as her most dominate and obvious characteristics, with a seemingly unbreakable optimistic outlook on life highlighting her nature. She laughs for nearly every emotional reaction, sometimes even laughing for no clear reason-- calling Renael "eccentric" is an understatement. Her outgoing and friendly traits keep the main stage while an oddly private nature contrasts them. Renael seems to want to get to know others, but not let them get to know her.

History:
Renael was born during the ban on magic. Though the ban was in place, it certainly didn't halt her innate abilities from manifesting. She ran away from home at the age of fifteen, joined a small secret school for mages, and was caught and imprisoned nearly fifty years after joining said school. Seventy-five years in prison later, along came the Great Migration. No one knows what exactly happened to Renael in prison except for her, but she emerged somehow more powerful than before she went in.

During a multitude of battles fought over Galadhon, Renael had the chance to distinguish herself. Boasting a particular love for fire and all things burning, Renael's known specialty was bathing whole platoons of soldiers in flames, raining fire down upon her enemies, and laughing all the while. While seen as both a hero and lunatic, Renael became known as the "Cackling Dragon" on the battlefield, as she prefers to be up close and personal when casting, rather than throwing spells from the safety of walls.

Of course, this is just information gained from word of mouth, and could be very exaggerated.
Whatever the case, the most true fact is that her specialty is definitely fire.


Equipment:
--"Hound" Carved from Marble: A simple trinket. The Hound has three heads. Weird.
--Black Leather Grimoire: Heavy. No markings on the outside. Blank pages-- Renael occasionally "reads" it. A solid steel chain keeps it attached to her belt.
--Steel Dagger: Boringly normal. No markings. A little dull. 200 year old Hobgoblin made.

Example post:
"Questions? I've plenty o' questions," she laughs, shaking her head slowly. Holding a hand up, Renael curls fingers down as she counts her questions, "Why promise riches and fame if we'd all die upon failure, anyway? Why should I trust you? Why should I trust them? And where's that ale?" Grinning widely, Renael looked around the tavern, and wondered what the other patrons thought of this conversation.

She was sure the people around had some opinions, especially since folks never seemed to mind their own business, no matter how much they thought they did. There would always be words said too loudly, too suspiciously, and that was simply the way of things. One could never be too careful when discussing such "important" matters aloud. Was this another conversation that would get her jailed? Was it just another person acting out of paranoia? If so then, Gods be good, she understood his position. Even the shadows and squirrels held knives to your back, when seen through the eyes of paranoia.

Other:
Singer: Renael is a trained singer, but only does so when she personally feels up to it.
Convincing: Renael has the rather unsettling trait of being a very good liar.
Storyteller: She's full of tall tales and stories.