Name: Blaike Fremont
Title: "Descendant of Light", The Delusional Red Farce, The Wandering Magi
Race: Hume
Job: Red Mage
Age: 24
Gender: Male
Warrior of Light: Of Course

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Physical Features:

Blaike is rather tall for a Hume, standing at exactly six-foot-one, save for if he's wearing his hat. He carries himself with an air of confidence, sporting an athletic build underneath all that fluff and gloss. Blaike is a little tan to the say the least, though that comes around his hands and face. His usual coloration is of a fair pigmentation underneath it all, and it's difficult to discern that he even has a tan in the first place, unless looking closely at his neck or wrist. His light, almond tinted eyes are nearly similar to his unkempt short hair... if it was auburn in any way, shape or form; he does try his best to tame the beast from time to time, but it's usually a fools folly.

Other than a hardened chin, arms, and torso, his features are rather smooth to the touch, save for a beauty mark on his right cheek near his eye and one on his back near the mid-line of his spine. Has a few small cuts on his hand and his left seems to be healing from a small burn wound that covers mainly his thumb.

Clothing/Armor/Weapons:

His usual flair in his armor starkly contrasts his usual, everyday basic clothing. Blaike's clothing isn't as much stuffy, but his shirts color is a drab and pale, it's coloration being distinctly tan. While the shirt is airy, the pants he dons are somewhat tighter, but not by a whole lot; they are generally either olive or maroon in color, nothing too striking. Aside from that, he always has a knife on his body, usually stationed by his left hip.

Moving on to his main attire, the first things that usually catch the eye are the vivid shades of red cast around his body. One of the most prominent features of his outfit is the red hat sitting atop his head. With a belt attached onto the hat, Blaike has adorned it with two distinguishable and colorful feathers of an unknown origin. Moving on to the main dish, his main suit is dished up with black buttons and golden lines, held in place with a buckle. Underneath the style and elegance hides a thin layer of chain-mail. To top it off, he has white gloves and a singular pauldron resting on his left shoulder. Other things included are his blue trousers lined with gold, some nondescript brown boots, and a stylish purple cape with white fluff. Before he usually starts a battle, however, he tears the cape off and throws it to the wind.

As for weaponry, he's got four things to his name - a sword, a dagger, his magic, and some wits about him. His blade's hilt is shown to be meticulously crafted with elegance and the edge with some practicality for its design. Beautiful white contrasts with the darkened hilt with gold lacing drawn upon it. Claims to have received this weapon after assisting a blacksmith in gathering materials. It can uniquely do elemental damage if it absorbs one of Blaike's spells, but only for a little while. Blaike's dagger is nevertheless like any other dagger you would procure from a blacksmith, save that it is rather clean and taken care of.

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Personality Traits:

Arrogant | Fearless | Flirtatious | Relaxed | Stuborn

Likes:

Chocobo's | Stargazing | Tea

Dislikes:

Hot Weather | Snakes | Tofu

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Hometown:

Dahlgren City | Dahlgren

Current Residence:

Thorne City | Thorne

Occupation:

Other than functioning as a wandering mercenary after his, erm, "discovery," Blaike is also a scribe. He also dabbles a little in alchemy.

Backstory:

Fifty years ago, one of the great Warrior's of Light, a magi, fought along the other heroes as he drove back the Mage-King's army. Records outside of these heroic deeds displayed that, despite all his good deeds, that he was a notorious playboy who often would get on his wife's nerves due to his debauchery and, erm, "hanging around" with other women, married or not. Eventually that life came to an end during his work upon retreating and assisting in the creation of the nation that would come to be known as Dahlgren. Over the course of fifty years, his true name was lost due to the fact that the scribes misplaced some documentation of his existence somewhere in his archives. Regardless, they all could agree he settled down in Dahlgren as he faded away into legend.

So what does this exactly have to do with Blaike? Well...

Blaike believes he is the true descendant of the hero, the grandchild... not the son of the offshoots when he was fornicating with other mistresses. Y'see, the thing about this one is that there have been multiple people who have claimed this and yet no one can verify whether or not this is true. Anyways, lets go one back, all the wa-a-a-ay to the beginning of his life.

Blaike's lineage can only be traced back to his mothers side with his fathers being nearly a complete blank when it came to it all. Taking on the Fremont name, his mother was a prominent Black Mage among the one-hundred other council members, being one of the more universally recognized members while the former was a rather powerful white mage. While he wasn't chosen to serve in the council, he did take on the job of a white magic instructor at the academy. There was also the facet that he was rather popular with female students, but that's something else that can be brushed off for a time.

To both of them, their first son Blaike (there were other children, but they aren't important), was to live a regular life, to live or die as either an instructor at the academy or earn his place to become a council member. The only thing they struggled with deciding was his school of magic. They were both well versed in their trades and neither would back down at their decision... so to compromise, they both decided it was for the best that he would learn both tools of the trade.

Blaike honestly didn't have too much of a problem with that, as he was already content with his life. Being a prodigy at a young age and earning the ire of some of his peers, heh, check. Having two pretty darn good mages for parents? Double check. Living a lascivious life of study and constant breakthroughs? Triple those checks. It was a good life for the most part... though there was something that cut into his studies as he rose up through the ranks at his school.

More often or not, Blaike was a curious child who would often have a book in his right hand and a light in his other as he explored different parts of this city, coming into contact with various interesting individuals. He ended up running into an unusual place that was very much out of place in this setting - a center for martial training. Curious, he wandered in to find a lesson being undertook and watched. Neither the master nor horned apprentice took note of the younger Blaike until after they finished their lesson. They did have a chat afterwords before the child left, with the apprentice escorting the kid home.

Over time, in conjunction with his magical studies, he would always come back to watch them clash, blade to blade and over time, before eventually he voiced his own opinions - he wished to become involved in these lessons. While this did earn a chuckle from the teacher at first, Blaike continued to display the same fierce determination each time and eventually after the teacher spoke with the apprentice one day, he finally caved in once Blaike reached the age of thirteen.

The teacher decided to see his form and how he handled the blade... before easily handing the young boys ass to him on a silver platter. Blaike was told so many things were horrendously wrong with what he just did when attempting to display his knowledge on the blade. He cried, but he didn't give up, which was a little surprising. Blaike got back up, ready to try again. He failed. And failed. And failed. While it was blatantly obvious the man was trying to dissuade him completely, Blaike kept standing up. In the end, Blaike lost all the battles and yet he won the war.

The young magi-in-training was told it would take a while for him to reach his potential, but he would train the boy along-side his wife. He was ecstatic and thanked the man, eagerly asking him when they would start. He was told to get some rest.

From here on out, blade and magic became intertwined with his studies. This new task made it increasingly difficult to balance these two tasks out. While it did take a minor toll on his magic, it just caused his skills to grow at a somewhat slower rate. It surprised his parents, even more so when they learned what he was doing, but dismissed it as nothing but a phase.

They ended up being much more incorrect when he reached the humble age of nineteen, where his ego took off faster than the Nautilus. It probably had to do with him being one of the few top students and the great feeling he got when fighting blade for blade with his master. Blaike took up the role as an apprentice scribe, adding even more loads of events to his plate. While recording and searching for documents, he discovered something rather quintessential and astonishing.

While digging through some old archives to update, he stumbled upon a few documents that recorded his grandparents. What was even more amazing is when the listed mage on there was a representative of the light - a Warrior of Light to be exact. With that, his own career took a complete 180 as he displayed the information to other scribes who were taken aback by this lost info. This set of information ended up being discussed between whether it was real or falsified, but what was for certain was that he was going to be boastful of his own lineage, now re-imagined and rediscovered.

This was still taking years to figure out as they called in multiple people to discuss if this was a fake, even trying to find the original person who chronicled it. And at the age of twenty-one he quit his job as a scribe, spoke to his master about expanding his own skills on his own journey to live up to his ancestor. While his master was wary about this, he attempted to talk a much older Blaike down... but like last time, he failed once again and decided to see the Red Mage off with a simple blade of his own.

And after that, he vanished himself. The only thing that was left behind was a letter to his family and master. Blaike honestly thought his parents would be ok with this... and now, he would never know.

Over the next three years, he fought monsters, other bandits wandering the wilderness, took up the trade of a mercenary who would either slay or gather. He spread word about over how he was the son of a former Warrior of Light, trying to use this "legacy" to his advantage. Most people thought him to be a mere lunatic or minstrel trying to earn a bit of coin... heck, he even believed himself to be an actual Warrior of Light.

Pfft, right, like that'll ever happen.

Even so, he continued to function as a scribe as well, assisting in some documentation, as well as picking up the trade of being an amateur alchemist as a hobby. Whatever is certain now, he now lives in the City of Thorne, taking up jobs mainly as a mercenary or scribe, sometimes going outside to gather some plants.

And as of now, with the celebration of the Mage-King underway, Blaike looks to participate in the festivities and possibly tournament... unaware of the tragedy that is about to befall the capital and possibly the rest of the floating continent.

Other:
Blaike is ambidextrous
Finds gambling to be somewhat enjoyable
Prone to spouting out cheesy lines

Name:
Seruh (Like Sarah) Vora
Title:
The Shadow
Race:
Miqo'te
Job:
Ninja
Age:
21
Gender:
Female
Warrior of Light:
Yaes

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Physical Features:

Seruh stands at 5’2” and weighs 118 lbs. SHe has brown hair and fur, with white tufts in her ears. She tends to walk rather pompously while in town and not under cover of shadow, with her chin up, and her face angled slightly upward. She has a slight hourglass form, fair, smooth skin, mostly unmarred save a few scars from the occasional combat injury, one located on her ankle, another on her shoulder, and the last located on the back of her thigh.

Her hair is usually down, sometimes in a ponytail or bun while she is in combat; while down, it reaches to just below her shoulders. Her tail is brown with grayish-white spots on it.

Clothing/Armor/Weapons:

During the day, Seruh wears a Brown coat-like top embellished with studs of gemstones and gold buttons, with a tiny bit of her black, skin tight battlegear showing. She also dons a pair of tight, black pants that reach about an inch and a half below her knees. Around her neck is a pendant that belonged to her Grandmother, the shape of it appears to mimic the Great Crystal. When she goes outside during the day, she also puts on a hooded blue cape to help keep her fair skin looking as light as possible and protect her eyes, trained to do better in darker places, from being damaged from the harsh light.

When prowling the shadows at night or anytime she expects combat, Seruh wears a set of black, skin-tight battlegear designed for agility and silent movement. The “armor” is lined with black steel studs at regular intervals to help protect her from sustaining injuries. In addition to the battlegear she wears under her normal attire, she also wears a mask over her head that covers all of it but her eyes, with a hole in the back for her ponytail/bun.

As for Seruh’s weapons, she carries a holster with 40 shuriken in it, a small blade at her waist, meant only for dire situations, and 4 smoke balls for an emergency escape method.

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Personality Traits:

Untrustworthy | Self-Centered | Outgoing | Patient | Calm

Likes:

Mid-day Naps | Gil | Being treated like she’s special | The Moon/Stars | Cold Beer

Dislikes:

The Sun | Other stuck-up people | Losing

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Hometown:

Thorne City|Thorne

Current Residence:

Kimura City|Kimura

Occupation:

Bartender at “The Mythril Chalice Inn” and Ninja in a local Ninja Clan.

Backstory:

Seruh grew up on the streets of Thorne City with her father. They lived in a small broken down, abandoned house in the slums. She always made do with the little they had, and thought nothing of the hardships they went through. Her mother had died months after giving birth to her, by means of disease. When she was small, her father would tell her stories of the heroes who drove away the Mage-King and how the Mage-King flooded the land, creating the world they lived in now.

When she got a bit older she would daydream about one day being a hero, somebody who protects others. She dreamed not only of heroism, but of greatness. Later in life it would be that same hunger for greatness the would lead her to leave Thorne to make a better life for herself.

When she was about 14, her father told her he needed to leave the city for a while, that he’d be back as soon as it was safe. Her father had never been known as the most honest person in Thorne City, and probably was in trouble for some sort of crime, whether or not he was guilty of it. Seruh, seeking adventure, decided she too would leave town, and so, at the young age of 14, Seruh Vora left Thorne on the first airship, eastbound to Kimura.

Upon arrival in Kimura, Seruh found that the nation was steeped in a type of civil war, where Samurai and Ninjas fought each other for control of the nation. Seeing an opportunity to aquire the greatness she had desired as a young girl, she entered training with a ninja clan based directly in Kimura city, out of a secret passage in an inn known as “The Mythril Chalice”. They set her up with a job bartending during the day while at night she trained.

Fast-forward several years, Seruh has become one of the top ranking Ninja in her clan, and she has become affluent enough to own a home on the edge of the aristocratic end of town, decently close to the Mythril Chalice. At this point, her success has gotten to her head, she completely lost sight of her goal to become a hero. Instead, she has become a tool of war.

Present day, she was sent to Thorne during the festival to visit a sister clan located in Thorne city, using the festival as an excuse to leave so suddenly.

Other:

Has a strange liking for chocolate
Loves liquor, but can’t hold it well.

Name: Rakta Ganti-Sih
Title: N/A
Race: Bangaa
Job: Berserker
Age: 36
Gender: Female
Warrior of Light: No

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Physical Features:

Rakta stands at an average height for a Bangaa, with the musculature of a seasoned combatant, and she carries herself with a prideful posture. Her scales are a dusky blue that gradients to light grey and she features orange tattoos, covering nearly half of her body, deeply inset into her scales-- they all look to be words in the language of her people. Those bright orange eyes of hers often have a weary look to them, except for when she's berserking, at which point they are quite alert and lethally analytical. Several scars mar her body, evidence of a life spent fighting, and the tip of her tail is missing. Piercings along her muzzle and ears gives hint to a subtle vanity, despite her otherwise brutish looks.

Clothing/Armor/Weapons:

Rakta is either seen lightly armored or armed to the teeth.

Light plate armor, most notable protecting her face, forearms, stomach, and knees is worn with a set of baggy pants of varying shades. This outfit is considered her "relaxing" clothes when she has to dress as such.

Rakta's usual battle armor consists of several pelts, reinforced with mail, decorated by horns, claws, and fangs of felled beasts. Most impressively about her armor is her hood, which features a mane made of authentic Behemoth hair. The pelts serve as both a trophy collection and "loose" armor, the purpose of which is to obscure her silhouette and increase the chances for glancing blows. When in "full armor" she wears a two-piece cheek and chin guard with a horned muzzle protector, and has been known to full own gore people with said horn when up-close.

No matter how much armor she is wearing, Rakta's clawed gauntlets are never left behind. The clawed fingertips serve as an extension of her own claws and the heavy gauntlets are fully padded inside, making punches and claw attacks easy on her underlying anatomy.


Personality Traits:
Shy | Rebellious | Stubborn | Nurturing | Aggressive
Good luck getting her to change her mind about anything. Ever.

Likes:
Music | Epic Tales | Spiritualism

Dislikes:
Cold Weather | Summoners | Pessimists

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Hometown:
Takhtajan

Current Residence:
Takhtajan

Occupation:
Bodyguard

Backstory:
The Ganti-Sih clan roams the deserts of Takhatjan, lead by a spiritual leader called the "Am-Ra". Like all Ganti-Sih children, Rakta grew up on the move and raised by the clan itself-- not solely by her birth parents. When it was discovered that Rakta had been "born with the spirit of a beast" within her, she was assigned a "Pahmet"-- a child chosen to become a carrier of the Am-Ra's knowledge-- and sent on a "Star Speak". The Star Speak consists of a journey through the desert with a Pahmet and, while the Pahmet may have food or water, the beast-child may not, in order to maintain their purification. After being purified by the clan Pahmets, Rakta was sent into the desert sands and, remarkably, went six days before passing into the Star Speak dream. Within the Star Speak, Rakta saw her destiny, met with the spirit of the beast which ignited her blood, spoke to the "Many Faced God", then returned with understanding that she was destined for something which would determine the fate of the world itself.

Years of training and fighting followed. Her Pahmet lead her through ever increasing danger, in order to strengthen the beast spirit, and increase her endurance for the Berserker state. Wars with other nomadic clans, skirmishes with intruders, and plenty of honor duels hardened Rakta's resolve and spirit. Despite the hardship, Rakta learned to care for the clan children with kindness and wisdom-- an odd trait for any berserker. The Ganti-Sih came to rely upon her for both protection and battle prowess, until the day came that her Pahmet spoke of a journey to another isle. Though many were displeased at the development, none questioned the wisdom of the Many Faced God, and reluctantly said their goodbyes to Rakta and her Pahmet.

Other:
- Rakta is a great seamstress-- those pelts didn't sew themselves!
- Wither or not Rakta is truly inhabited by the spirit of a "beast" is a subject of theological debate.
- The Many Faced God's existence is also a subject of theological debate however-- there are very convincing signs of their material existence in the form of clockwork Obelisks on Takhatjan.
- Apparently no one knows where Rakta got the Behemeoth fur from-- she insists it came from her Star Speak journey.