Average height for a Human born in the South, Brann boasts a semi-athletic build, focused on dexterity rather than brute strength. His dark-brown hair is long and reaches past his shoulder-line, forcing him to more-often-than-not keep part of it tied or swept back when in the field. His short goatee compliments what would be a rather comely visage if it were not for the long, thin scar across his left cheek and another, much smaller one on his lip. His eyes are the color of midnight and one can just barely notice a chipped canine when he smiles.
Name Brann Aldebard
Title The Spellsword
Gender Male
Age 27
Personality Light-hearted and well-meaning, one could easily dismiss Brandon as a fool at first sight due to his odd, seemingly random, remarks and tendency to make light of the situations, making jests and sarcastic remarks even when the situation at hand demands different. Indeed, his sharp tongue tends to bring him trouble, in particular with those with a short-temper with no patience for his tomfoolery. At the end of day, Brann is a kind soul, willing to lend a helping hand when needed, in particular if there is the possibility of a reward for his good deed.
Abilities Brann was born with the gift of magic yet never really possessed the patience and discipline for fully develop this art. As a result, his powers are sub-par, capable of casting little more than the most basic of spells. What he lacks in mysticism, however, he makes up in swordsmanship, being trained to proficiently wield a small number of martial weapons, two-handed swords in particular. In time, he learned to weave a bit of magic that compliments his combat skill, a distracting flash of light, a dose of strengthening or elemental magic applied on the blade, these sort of ‘utility-spells’, as he calls them, give him a significant if a little unfair advantage in combat.
Skills Apart from his martial and mystical abilities, Brann is a surprisingly decent showman, utilizing small magical tricks to impress and entertain the crowd, working hand-in-hand with his ability to play the flute. His basic survival skills, such as foraging, lighting a fire and setting a camp almost make up for his rather abhorrent cooking, preferring to provide the ingredients to someone who actually knows what they are doing.
Gear Brann wields a standard two-handed longsword with a slightly thinner blade, made to be just a bit lighter than normal, his own versatility and magic compensating for the weapon’s initial lack in dealing heavy damage. Apart from his sword, he always has a small dagger up-handy for a number of situations. For armor he prefers to wear something more on the light-side, equipped with a chain-shirt with a light leather tunic underneath, the only bit of light-plating being present on his shoulders, gloves and greaves, leaving his head exposed as he dislikes the stiffness and vision-impairing capabilities of most helms. He also sports a hoodless, non-descript, traveler’s cloak of faded, earthly green color which has seen better days.
Bio Brann prefers to not talk about his past, considering that his childhood was rather boring and ordinary even for someone born with the gift of magic. As a result, on the rare occasions he does discuss it, he would most likely make-up a more interesting tale with the intend of entertaining his conversation partner. In his youth he was indeed admitted to one of the institutes to learn how to wield his magical abilities yet it didn’t take long for him to become overwhelmed and eventually kick-out for his lack of focus, his teachers claiming that he would most probably never be able to weave anything beyond the basic spells. With nothing left, Brann became a wanderer for a while, managing to scrape-by a bit of income from entertaining folk with magic-based gimmicks and music before ultimately joining a small band of sell-swords for a more exciting life of adventure. He spent half a decade as a member of the Ironwood Company, learning swordsmanship, basic survival skills and even successfully implementing his meager mystical abilities in combat creating a style of combat unique to him, or so he would like to believe. Ultimately though, the life of a sell-sword was not for him as his demeanor and sharp-tongue brought him trouble with some of the more morose members, that and their penchant for not caring too much about morality made him decide that it would be better to strike on his own as an adventurer.
Brann has been a self-styled adventurer-for-hire for the better part of a year now and has seen his fair share of action yet nothing particularly exciting and not nearly as well-paying as a mercenary contract. Perhaps this will all change after a particularly surreptitious Elven trader hired him and a number of others adventurers for what he hopes to be a fruitful expedition. Who can tell?
Appearance : To start with, he's taller than most orcs. Not ridiculously so, but still big for orc standards. He's quite fat but with obvious muscle definition. He's got frizzy shoulder length black hair that's starting to show a touch of grey and a bushy unkempt beard. He wears a tunic of chainmail armor and a leather loincloth. He has long leather boots that cover his calves. Other than that he wears a silver necklace bearing a pendant given to him by his mother as an infant.
Name : Reginald "Reggie"
Title : Reggie the Rumbler
Gender : Male
Age : 37
Personality : Due to his traumatic past Reggie prefers to keep to himself. He avoids getting close to people and will even be purposefully rude to keep anyone from talking to him. Despite this he's a good person who believes in helping those in need. Since he once had children of his own he has a soft spot for kids. Being a natural fighter he tends to solve most of his problems with his fist but he's not necessarily a violent man unless this situation absolutely requires it. More likely he'll just try to avoid conflict. He has always lived a gluttonous lifestyle and can often be found stuffing his face and drinking. It is only when he is drunk (Which is not uncommon) that it is possible to really talk to him. Though for this reason he tends to drink alone.
Abilities : His most obvious ability is his raw strength. He is a giant of an orc that can overpower pretty much any foe he comes across. While lacking any formal combat training he has learned to fight over the years and has plenty of experience to make up for it.
Skills :. He is talented in wine-making. Very good with children. Also he can drink anybody, of any race, under the table.
Gear : A pair of spiked steel gauntlets. Steel chainmail armor. He carries around a flask to keep him moderately tipsy during his waking moments. He also keeps a few lockpicks handy just in case.
Bio : (I'll keep it brief as a lot of it I'd prefer to be revealed in story and from interactions with other characters) Reggie can't remember his original name. The name he was given by his orc parents. No Reggie,short for Reginald, is the name given to him by his adoptive mother who found him alone in the frozen tundra with no parents or any other orcs around. Reggie was what the humans who raised him called him. Reggie was what his beautiful human wife had called him. All of his friends and neighbors and rivals in his old village had called him Reggie. The only other name he was called was "Daddy". But none of those people are around anymore. He's still Reggie, Reggie the Rumbler they call him. The greatest brawler for miles around. Now he just fights for cash, hoping to once again chase the dream that he was so close to obtaining. But fighting in taverns and underground fighting leagues brings in just enough cash to get by. That's why he's taken this job he's been offered by this Elven trader. He doesn't know what the job is supposed to be. But as long as the money is good he'll do it.
Seth stands at 6 feet and 2 inches tall, with a somewhat athletic build. He is never seen without his black suit of full-body armor, adorned with gold and red here and there. He also wears a tattered and faded black and gold cape with a cowl. Also never far from Seth is his sword, which is mostly black with the outer parts of the blade being red and a golden eye-like adornment (which can also be seen on the armor's helmet) in the center part between the hilt and the blade.
Name: Seth Malbourne
Title: Seth the Cursed Swordsman
Gender: Male
Age: 25
Personality: Seth has a very strong sense of justice, always willing to help those in need and punish evildoers. Once he has set his mind to something, it's very, very hard to get him to reconsider. However, this is a rather unfortunate quality to have, considering that Seth also isn't the sharpest knife in the drawer. He can distinguish good things from evil, yes, but not always smart from plain idiotic. It is this characteristic that left Seth in the state he is right now: A cursed swordsman, and one who still follows the path of justice with unshakeable determination.
Abilities: As well as being decently skilled with a blade, Seth has gained control over a small assortment of unholy spells, thanks to his equally unholy equipment. With his dark magic, Seth can do such things as summon a temporary familiar, temporarily give his sword the ability to drain life force from enemies, and launch a ball of unholy fire. However, Seth has little to no training with his magic, so it is relatively weak and causes a lot of physical and mental exhaustion for him to use it repeatedly. However, the option is there, just in case a little swordfighting won't quite get the job done.
Skills: Seth's repertoire isn't just brute force; if the need arises, he is fully capable of old-fashioned persuasion. However, he isn't incredibly bright, but he's definitely about as stubborn as any ox you'll ever come across. If a little bit of flattery or reason won't get the job done, his persistence is the next best thing. ...Aside from brute force, of course.
Gear: Seth's weapon of "choice" is a cursed greatsword, a common creation of dark sorcerers to fool unsuspecting adventurers. It cannot be disposed of, but possesses remarkable strength, at the downside of it also being quite heavy. His armor is much of the same: A black, red and golden suit of full-body armor that acts as the swordsman's skin. It's made of very sturdy and rather heavy steel, yes, but once it has been equipped, any damage the suit itself takes is transmitted straight to the wearer. A bit of a paradox, but it at least offers better protection than ordinary clothing, or nothing at all.
Bio: Seth is...well, was, an ordinary human. Like many others of his kind, Seth was your average adventurer, doing various oddjobs in every town he set foot in to make ends meet and hopefully make a name for himself. As time went by, he became fairly well-known, though by no means legendary, no, not at all. He was still your average, run of the mill adventurer. Just a bit more well-known.
However, his lust for fame and fortune got the better of him one day, when he came across a traveling merchant while traversing a dark forest. Said merchant made a comment about his "weak equipment", which, in actuality, was a standard issue broadsword and steel platemail, and offered a "true warrior's sword and suit of armor". Of course, Seth made the trade, and the merchant soon ran off, leaving the swordsman and his new gear behind.
Eager to try out his new equipment, Seth immediately put on the suit of armor, followed by the sword. As soon as he had done so, his breathing became heavy, his vision blurry, and his mind started racing. Unprepared for such feelings, he desperately tried to remove his armor; unfortunately, it had already bonded to his body, and the sword was tied to his very being as well, unable to be discarded without flying back to its owner's side.
Seth had been fooled; what he had been given was a cursed blade and suit of armor, a common and cheap trick practiced by dark sorcerers the world over. Once the connection between body and equipment had been made, it could not be reversed. Seth was doomed to live the rest of his life trapped inside a suit of armor, wielding a demonic sword as his only weapon.
However, Seth would not let such a fate deter him from his hopes and dreams. The now-cursed swordsman continued to travel across the land, using his new equipment and accompanying unholy magic for good rather than evil, dark sorcerers be damned. Although the townsfolk he would meet throughout his travels would express fear at seeing such demonic gear, a little bit of explaining (usually) did the trick to change their minds.
All the traveling Seth had done had been entirely by himself, no accompaniment to be seen. However, a run-in with a certain elf merchant soon changed that...
With her 1.86 meters height, she's rather tall especially for a human woman. Near waist long wavy raven black hair and piercing emerald green eyes. Her body is quite well trained for a magic user and she's overall got a strong posture that doesn't detract from her female charm and elegance any. A very distinctive scar she has is a huge bite mark across the entirety of her right arm, indicating something big with lots of teeth had once tried to bite it off.
Name : Krielie'nas Nasloede
Title : The Witch, Mistress of curses
Gender : Female
Age : 29
Personality : What Krilie is now and what she was in the past are two very different things. A lot had happened to her and most of it caused a lot of change in her. Currently she's no longer a naive woman as she initially was. Gone are the sincere eyes and kind demeanor. The war had changed her in a way even she wouldn't have imagined possible. Now there's little place for most emotions in her mind anymore. She now acts only how she sees fit. If she wishes to kill someone she will do so, if she wishes to safe someone she'd do so out of selfish decisions, usually expecting a reward in some way or another. She prefers to have fun in any way possible. Be it killing enemies and taking the utmost delight in their despair and final moments or just having fun in a tavern. Regret, fear, love and hate... none of those exist in her heart anymore. All that remains and the desire for pleasure... pleasure in both physical sensations and the joy of seeing people crumble before her.
Abilities : Krielie's abilities completely revolve around the dark arts. Studying them since early childhood she's mastered them to a significant degree. Her main specialty is curses. She takes both great pleasure and skill in practicing them. She uses many and probably knows even more. The only negative of her battle curses are that while they can be used on multiple targets, they require time to get going after being cast. The two curses she takes most pleasure in using are the 'The boiling blood', a curse that causes the victim's blood to gradually heat up until their own body is destroyed from the inside. This one can take different time from target to target due race specifics. Since her targets are usually humans, who are easily affected by changes in one's body and can die from mere fevers from sicknesses, it's very useful against them. The second curse she takes even more pleasure in using, she calls Crystal bones – another mostly slow working curse that's single target and gradually changes the victim's bones into fragile crystal that can shatter from the weakest of movement. Very effective to cause morale drop and generally see the despair and pain of the victim. Along those 2, she also uses things like Shiver – a curse that drains' heat and others. The drawback of her magic is that it's a slow burner most of the time. Once cast it could take minutes before the target could be completely overtaken than the curse. Still beside curses she can also cast protective wards against enemy magic.
Skills : Decent cook, tailor and herbalist knowledgeble in the healing properties of plants. She's also decent at exotic alluring dancing.
Gear : - A pretty hefty book containing countless recipes for potions, salves and other concoctions she's learned or discovered along detailed descriptions of plants. - A nice black quite well tailored dress. It reaches just below her knee and has a long cut on the right side up to her upper tight, to allow for greater freedom of movement. -A pair of sturdy black leather boots, adorned with black fur and raven feathers -A black sturdy cloak with hood. -Simple black wooden staff with a steel blade on the end, just to stab and cut along with magic casting.
Bio : Not much is known about Krielie'nas before she first stepped outside the confines of the forest she lived before The Great War. What is known is that she lived in one of the densest and most secluded parts of the wilderness when a force of the Great Lord stumbled upon it by chance. What had transpired there and how she survived that encounter is not know as people who later would arrive at the scene only conveyed a scene of complete carnage too grotesque to describe. She was wounded, but survived it. She was cold and ruthless in the fighting from that point onward. Many who came to know her, commented that she had the eyes of someone out for revenge.
Exploits during that madness known as the 'Great War' are had to keep track of so it's not known how much she did during those days and she has no desire to bring it up. She did what she could, but afterwards she lived for herself. Laws? Traditions? None of those mattered, she had cursed and killed more than a few of the unlucky sods who dared to bare teeth at her for her dark magic. Always in self defense … of course. She may not feel fear, but she's not stupid. Sometime during the end of the Great War she put a curse on herself. A curse that was meant to stop the pain she felt in her heart, but curses never come without a price. The pain? It sure was gone, but so was the reason for the pain... love. The fear of losing someone the source of that pain was also gone, sadly along the only thing that had turned in a reason to live – her hate. Without those gone, she was left a different person. A broken person unable to feel the most basic of human emotions.
The following years after the war passed in a breath. Filled with pleasure and simple selfish desires. She became a mercenary of sorts, she'd do jobs, get paid, spend some of the money on interesting things and the rest on men and women from public houses. All the while use those very same mercenary jobs to revel in the pleasure of tormenting others. That's what led her to accepting the job from an elf merchant too... it seemed interesting.
Syfa was a satyr, at least she had the horns, the hooves and the fur to boast it if she ever wanted to, easily carrying the celebratory, cheeky attitude that defined nature's rogues. She had brown hair, with a few lighter, golden locks from all the time she spent in the sun. Her hazel eyes were flecked similarly with tiny spots of gold, a kind face with soft eyes that held a natural beauty that could net her a prince (or princess), so long as they didn't think fur was murder. She was built like a warrior, muscled, broad shoulders for her size, and dressed in medium armour. She could be seen usually carrying a short spear along with a decently sized shield, and a pack with a wooden flute strapped to it.
Name: Syfa Sasiferae
Title: Skald - A skald inspires their allies, and often presses forward to fight enemies in melee. Outside of combat, they're useful as a healer and scholar, less durable than a warrior, but more versatile.
Gender: Female
Age: 24
Personality: Syfa was friendly. Overly so, she practically glowed when she wanted to. Charismatic, strong and charming, Syfa was an impulsive being, who lived in the moment. She held little stock in politics and was the living embodiment of the word 'carefree', this brought on its own problems, sometimes making her much more naive or foolish in action than she would understand.
Syfa was loyal and friendly, but definitely capable of holdiog a grudge. She wasn't not one to take being slighted lightly, and when she put her mind to something, she'd put everything into it, half-measures were below her. As such, she's proud of her work and the way she does it, and any slight against her handiwork is one against her. She was more than a little bit promiscuous. Life is short, doubly so for adventurers, so she figured she'd get in her living while she's alive. She finds pleasant company a hot commodity, and will happily spend her time with interesting (and beautiful) people. This attitude often lands her in 'bad' crowds.
"Life is worth as much as the company you keep."
Abilities:
Healing Words - Her poetry can weave wounds back together, stitching them shut. This requires intense concentration (though it can be done in combat if the situation rises), and causes her to fatigue much faster. This won't bring someone back from death's door.
Empowering Song - With the right notes and words behind her, she can create a noise that transforms into a melodious war-cry, inspiring courage and bravery.
Dirge - With a shrill scream (on her flute or otherwise), Syfa can summon up discordant noise to disorient and distract enemies, though sound is sound, and can just as easily affect her friends.
Glamour/Glibness - Syfa can make herself 'glow', making her look just that little bit more fetching or believable. She abuses this relentlessly.
Skills:
Performance - This covers her poetry, singing, storytelling, instrument playing as well as being able to do well in front of crowds.
Lore - While she is poor on the subject of history and politics, she knows her fair share of mythos and stories, being an avid book reader of all different types.
Coercion/Lying - Syfa was gifted with a silver tongue, and lies come to her easily, almost as easily as charming.
Gathering - While she can't really cook, she's a woodland wanderer, and can find food without harming the inhabitants of the forest.
Botany - She has a vast knowledge on flora, knowing which different plants are good for tinctures, and which are good for looking pretty (which she has very strong opinions on).
Wood-Carving - Everyone needs a hobby.
Gear:
Short-Spear - Her spear was made purely out of Ironwood, having gotten all of her gear from earthly sources, it offered reach, but wasn't unwieldy, so she could use it with her shield.
Shield - Her shield was made purely out of Ironwood, and carried a a carved in symbol of two horns, her 'banner'.
Leaf-Mail - Her armour was heavier than it looked, made out of the leaves of Ironwood trees. They were unlikely to stop an arrow, but might just block a blade or a wayward claw.
Elegant Clothes - Bought for her by her merchant company (when they asked her to attend a matter of some formality), she keeps this expensive dress safe, though it seldom sees the light of day.
Flute - This meticulously carved thing was her most prized possession, hand-made. When she was resting at camp, she might still be working on it, scratching in new patterns onto the surface.
Bio: A grove-dancer, Syfa's only real duty was to abide by the laws of the forest, enjoy herself and search for a new grove when the revel in the current one had ended. She was raised as a performer, as her people often were, though she had an uncanny knack for it that made her stand out in the winding forests she called home. Though, when the flames of the Great War licked at the borders of her home, even the forests were not spared the wrath. Fires struck within her lands as she watched the spirits of the bark burn, in a panic, she fled, splitting from her people and finding herself hopelessly alone with nothing but starlight and the bitter taste of ash to keep her company. She remembered her duty and searched. She was to find the site of the next revel, and the road was long and winding yet.
She met travellers, kindred-spirits, on the road; people searching for their new home, who needed something to smile at. Syfa provided song and story (and company to those who needed it). It didn't take long for her to realize that the road was her home, and those who would travel it her guests to host for. A merchant company thought her a perfect mascot and hired her along as a camp-follower for their caravans. She was a hit. She was taught the basics on how to fight, and told new stories, new poems, new myths that had seldom shown their faces in the depths of the forest she had lived in.
But people always part, and with a sigh and a smile, she bid the Silver Sales company behind, her only mark made in the mercenaries smiles and memories (as well as a scratched in pair of horns in the side of a wagon). Syfa found herself on the road again, ready to enjoy new company.
Standing at 1.83 m meters tall and weighing 205 pounds, Samuel is very imposing for a man of the cloth. While he does not smoke, he does carry cigarettes and cigars on him for others. His graying hair is kept short, and is rough to the touch. Scars litter his body, the result of carpentry accidents over the years, tarnishing his tanned skin.
Despite these intimidating factors, even spending a few minutes talking with him will reveal that he is an incredibly kind and gentle man. His eyes are soft, and he speaks in a slow and gentle manner in order to make others feel comfortable. He talks very simply in order to be sure that he is easy to understand, and does his best to help others whenever he can. Finally, he prefers to wear his robes or warm clothing, as he enjoys soft things.
Name: Samuel Dukes
Title: The Healer
Gender: Male
Age: 38, but looks older
Personality: Samuel is an extremely caring individual, and will do his best to make everyone happy. Hell, the entire reason he became an adventurer was because he wanted to travel around the world, helping the people he finds along the way. Life is an experience, after all, and you should do your best to be experience all you can and find the thing you want to do. Despite these beliefs, however, Samuel never drank, smoked, and he doesn't eat animals for ethical reasons. He is strictly vegetarian, but will not try to restrict others in the same fashion. He never swears, with the strongest words in his vocabulary being "Dang it". He has never hated another person, and loves hearing about their stories - he will very often befriend people and paint pictures of the two of them together, but most of these paintings are given to the other individual since Samuel doesn't have the room to carry around dozens of paintings.
Samuel is very accepting of others, and does his best to be interested in other people's hobbies - if it makes them happy, then they can do it as much as they want. However, Samuel will try to get people interested into his own hobbies - painting, praying, and carpentry. And, while Samuel could be described as loyal, he is kind to nearly everyone he meets, so this is fairly hard to tell.
However, despite the kindness he attempts to spread, Samuel possesses numerous personality faults. He is pacifistic to an extreme, refusing to harm a living creature unless his life is directly threatened. While he won't stop his allies from defending themselves, he will do everything in his power to stop them from killing sentient creatures... Unless they're demonic or undead. Samuel has a deep seeded fear of the undead and demons, which has only been nurtured in his time in the church. Should he encounter someone like this, he will be far different from his usual self, staying as far from them as possible and not protesting against their death. Additionally, he is an extreme traditionalist, believing in rigid gender roles and more outdated ideologies. However, he will be nowhere near as aggressive towards a female adventure as he would to an undead or demonic one. Despite these views, it would be possible to win over Samuel if someone were to try hard enough and remind him that kindness should be given to everyone.
Abilities: Healing Prayers: Samuel can close minor wounds in seconds, medium sized ones in a minute, large wounds in an hour, and broken bones/fatal wounds in 3-6 hour long prayer sessions. While being healed, a person won't feel any pain and the wound will be considered stabilized, allowing them to continue fighting, but the prayer needs to be completed for the wound to close. Healing leaves no scars and replenishes lost blood, but relies on concentration and time before the wound is closed. Additionally, if Samuel doesn't pray an hour daily, he temporarily loses his power. Additionally, healing fatal wounds require copious amounts of holy objects, and goes along faster if done on holy land. Without any holy objects (Holy water, crosses, silver, etc.), healing magic is far less effective.
While less effective, the prayer can be used to lessen the effects of major illnesses, and can cure minor ones. Nowhere near biblical "cure the lepers" power though.
Bless: Samuel can temporarily bless a person, raising one of their physical attributes significantly, such as making the average man as strong as a college-level wrestler. Blessing a person can be done instantly, but only three people can be blessed at one time.
Gear: - Robes - A Holy Book - Carpentry tools - Painting tools - Adult horse (Pericles/"Percy") - Small wagon - A Crosier that appears as a simple staff with a golden cross on top
Bio: Samuel was born to an extremely poor family on the outskirts of a large city, where he would spend the next 12 years of life. His mother, a seamstress, died in childbirth, leaving Samuel to be raised by his father, a carpenter. The two were extremely close and, despite their horrible living conditions, Samuel managed to grow fairly well. He was always soft spoken, eve as a child, and this trait was only encouraged from his kindly father. Living in the dregs of society, you had to help each other to survive. Life, while difficult, was an enjoyable experience, and Samuel was never in need of anything. He lived his life plainly, and planned on becoming a carpenter in order to help his father pay the growing bills. That all changed when he turned 11.
Samuel, having only turned 11 a month prior, commenced his day as he normally did; he went to buy the groceries. His father worked very hard, and while he was not particularly good at them, Samuel took over the woman's work. Samuel's father always apologized, and told him that he was sorry for forcing his son to do something his mother or sister should do, and this clear distinction between the expectations of men and women that his father presented later manifested in Samuel as his light sexism. Despite this, Samuel was glad to do the more feminine jobs - He couldn't help his father any other way, and his father already worked hard to support Samuel. Even on the days he didn't have work, every Sunday, he still taught the boy the trade secrets in order to prepare him for his future career. But back to the groceries - Every day, before going to school, Samuel always went to the local butchers to buy meat - the family didn't have any way to keep meat fresh, and couldn't afford a chicken coup, so this was their only option. It was the same as it was any other day - buying from the cheaper, "aged" meats with the money his father left on the counter, and making his way towards the door after the owner stopped doting over him. This time, however it was different - before he managed to leave the small meat shop, explosions that sounded like they were only a few blocks away resonated throughout the store. The explosions continued for what felt like an eternity, but were actually only 30 seconds.
Finally, after the constant sounding of explosives stopped, Samuel stayed in the store for nearly an hour, the owner giving him dried meat for free to calm the crying child. Finally, when all seemed safe, Samuel left the shop, quickly making his way to his home. He planned to hide in the basement for the rest of the day, skipping school entirely. When he arrived to several smoking craters, he realized where the explosions were. His house, several other homes in the area, and a small government building. Later, Samuel would find out that the explosions were caused by a demonologist, attempting to gather souls to summon demons. The terrorist was captured soon after the event, and Samuel was sent to an orphanage, the place he would spend the next year of life.
The orphanage had a higher standard of living then his old home, but that didn't matter. The man who had raised Samuel the past 11 years of his life was gone. Samuel was a hopeless wreck the next year - he rarely ate, spending most of his time in his room making sculptures and paintings of his father and him, or sleeping to ignore the loss. The other children admired his artistic skill. and several became friends with him. Despite this, he never really spent much time with them, only pretending to be happy when they were around. Days passed without difference, the only thing telling them apart being the weather outside and the work of art he was making. Even with this depression, he never wanted to kill himself. His father always told him to never give up, so he was going to keep on living. For his father's sake. That was until 3 robed men arrived to the school, little over one year since Samuel first came to the orphanage.
None of the children knew the purpose for why the men were there - some believed they were going to adopt someone, others thought they would kill them. Neither was true - the men systematically met with each child, placed their hand against a crystal ball, and moved on to the next. They never showed any expression with the children, and they did the same with Samuel. As suddenly as they arrived, they left, having went through the process with each child. 3 weeks later, more robed men appeared - although, their were far more of them. Some wore the robes of the mages, some were dressed in furs like the druids of the west. Several children were adopted. Samuel was one of them, being picked by a priestly man in white and gold robes. They then left the city that Samuel spent the last 12 years in, to parts unknown. The journey took little over 2 weeks by wagon, but they finally arrived - a small, ordinary village far to the east of the city that Samuel grew up in. Job, the man that had adopted Samuel, talked with him the whole way there, telling him of their new life and the way of god. Samuel was special - the robed men that first appeared in the orphanage were testing the magical affinities of the orphans, looking for new members of the magical orders. Apparently, Samuel was the most pious of the orphans, despite never touching the holy book in his life. He was to be trained by the church, and use his powers in gods just name. Despite the despair that clouded his heart, Samuel was happy. He would finally be useful, if not to his dad, then to the people.
Samuel was quickly given a high level of education, being taught multiplication and comprehending the holy book. Hours a day were spent in prayer, and Samuel, after a year long study, was finally taught basic holy magic. Samuel's affinity for other magics were nonexistent, making things like fireballs an impossibility, but he was tutored heavily in the art of healing, spending the first few years of his new life dissecting and healing small animals. His first human subject was the villages hunter, whom was accidentally shot by a group of elves passing the area. The wound was minor, but the elves were apologetic and did not want to leave without helping the man they shot. A few tense hours later, the wound was closed, and the elves were offered a night in the village to rest. Samuel, slowly but surely, was growing out of his depression.
Job was an interesting man - he never spoke violently, always careful with his words and planning what he says. He spoke eloquently, and it would be difficult to think he ever disliked someone in his life. He always assisted the other villagers, and spoke highly of the lord, preaching that everyone deserved a second chance. While Samuel took his sayings to heart, he always kept the hidden hatred inside of him. He despised demons. The holy book clearly said that every problem was caused, directly or indirectly, by them. The undead were the same - products of the dark arts that sought to corrupt the world. Of course, Samuel never told a soul of his hidden beliefs. He even was repulsed with himself for having them. The church, the people who saved and gave him a new life, taught their children to respect and love everyone. But Samuel couldn't help but despise the unholy. He couldn't tell anyone, he couldn't risk someone finding out he had sin in his heart. So, he kept it hidden, not even mentioning it when he was praying for forgiveness.
Samuel proved his helpfulness by the time he was 20 - he had finished all his studies, was a strong young man, and was proficient not only with carpentry, but also the holy book. Samuel was able to heal small wounds in minutes, and moderate ones in only a few hours of reciting verses from the book. He repaired damage that occurred to buildings and vehicles, and had even been given the honor of painting famous scenes from the holy book on the walls of the church. Samuel was finally over the death of his father and, while Samuel misses him dearly, he understands that his father would not want him to wallow in self pity for the rest of his life. Samuel was a man. He continued his practice of the holy book, and took over preaching from the old Job. Job proceeded to spend his days relaxing, until he died 5 years later, at the age of 74. Samuel continued to remain in the village, doing the same things until he eventually reached the age of 38. That was when he had a dream - a realization, a prophecy. He was just like he was in the orphanage - sure, he was happier, but he did the same thing every single day, without any difference between the days that passed. His life was passing him by like a bolt of lighting, and he wasn't doing anything to stop it. He needed the thing that changed his life 26 years ago. He neded a change of scenery.
Barely a week later, his bags all packed and the villagers alerted, Samuel left the small village he spent the most of his life in. The entire population of 103 people came to see him off, and visiting Job's grave before he left, Samuel departed the village. The wagon was pulled by his favorite horse in the village, Pericles, whom the stable master had given to Samuel as a departing gift. The fact that the villagers cared for him deeply moved his heart, and he was sure to alert the church that a new priest was needed at the village. After three weeks of travel, he had finally arrived to his destination. The city he had grown up in. The next few days were spent getting his papers in order, and deciding his new, exciting career; adventurer. Finally, 5 days after entering the city, he made his way to the local tavern to find companions, which he did. But there was a familiar face among them - the elf, whom had stayed at his village over 2 decades ago, was there. After some thoughtful reminiscing, Samuel was told the elf had become a merchant, and was in search of people to undergo a... secret mission to the nearby ruins. Ignorant of the suspicious request, Samuel quickly agreed to help Timothy, his new companions joining in to make a few quick coins.
Whilst employing armor and weaponry that is lass traditional than most Paladins, Penelope fits the role by being a melee oriented fighter who empowers their strikes with Holy Magic. Less of a full on offense than others, Penelope makes up for it by casting protective auras on the party as well as providing minor healing abilities.
Gender
Female
Age
Twenty-Five
Personality
Penelope is proud, well spoken and compassionate. She is a stalwart upholder of the Lichbane name and is self assured in her ideals. She possesses a naivety towards the truths of our world, no doubt a result of her young age and her cloistered spoon fed life as a noble daughter. In her mind everything is either black or white with no shades of gray, leading her to possess morals that judge others harshly despite their circumstances. Though she is not without empathy, to her there is no excuse for misconduct or defying the law.
Indeed, Penelope is one who thrives on structure; an unfortunate byproduct of her overbearing parents. Everything she does must be well planned, organised and perfect. She suffers from extreme anxiety in situations where the outcome is not certain to her. In particular she has a hard time accepting her own weakness, often shouldering more blame than necessary in any situation that goes awry. Penelope refuses to accept that some things are beyond her control. In her eyes every aspect of her reality can be impacted if she performs perfectly.
Despite her pride as a Lichbane, Penelope harbors a deep resentment against her parents and the life they have set out for her. She is eager to make a name for herself outside of her family. Penelope can be incredibly stubborn when it comes to accepting help from her others. She insists that she is capable of succeeding without the help of her family or others. That being said, she is an admirer of those with exceptional martial ability; particularly where it pertains to swordplay.
Abilities
✠ Adept Duelist | Penelope is proficient with wielding her Rapier, using her grace and elegance in combat rather than brute strength. She can strike her opponents with a series of lunges and flourishes of her blade whilst also keeping her distance with excellent footwork and keen senses. In particular, Penelope is quite skilled at parrying and disarming opponents with weapons that are larger than her own.
✠ En Lux | Penelope bathes her weapon with Holy Light, reinforcing the usually frail Rapier to be able to withstand a greater amount of force. While empowered with En Lux, Penelope's blade casts light in a fifteen foot radius around it. In addition to these benefits, the Holy Blade will sear the flesh of Undead and Demons as well as allows Penelope to strike Undead who cannot otherwise be affected by physical strikes (Ghosts, Wraiths etc).
✠ Réfraction | Grants a shield of Light to Penelope and one ally. The Shield completely blocks one physical attack before erupting into a flash of bright, scalding light that burns those nearby. The flash of light will also temporarily stun Undead and Demons.
Skills
✠ Noble Etiquette | Penelope is accustomed to the mannerisms of Nobles and is able to win their affections much more effectively than others. Inversely, she has a harder time communicating with the common folk.
✠ Appraisal | Penelope has a keen eye for detail and is a connoisseur of finer craftsmanship; in particular when it comes to jewelry and weaponry. She is able to discern the value of certain goods with decent accuracy.
✠ Noble Reputation | Belonging to a prestigious house of nobility within the human kingdom, the Lichbane name is well known and garners a positive reputation by most humans. While travelling through major towns in human kingdoms, Penelope is able to use her reputation to gain discounts at inns, certain stores and travel. However not all those in the Human kingdom are fond of House Lichbane. In particular, those who delve in the dark arts such as Witches, Necromancers and even some Sorcerers are quite spiteful towards the Dark Slaying Lichbane.
✠ Well Read | Having the privilege of growing up to a noble house has allowed Penelope to pursue an education far greater than those who were less fortunate than she. Because of this she possesses adequate knowledge on a variety of subjects including numeracy, literacy, history and she can even speak a little Elvish.
Gear
✠ Rapier | A lightweight thrusting sword with good reach and speed. Requires a great deal of skill and dexterity to wield effectively.
✠ Medium Weight Armor | Appearance as shown in picture. Provides decent defenses against physical attacks while only slightly decreasing mobility.
✠ Noble Crest | A pendant inscribed with the crest of House Lichbane; proof of Penelope's lineage to the noble house.
Biography
The House of Lichbane is a prestigious family that has its roots within the Southern Human Kingdom. Their lineage traces back generations to long before the Great War. The Lichbane Paladins were noble, just Knights who fought on the front lines against the Darkness. Though time has passed, their children have continued to uphold their righteous message. The Lichbane are renowned for their ruthless and methodical purging of the Undead in the Southern Human kingdom. Those who delve in darkness live to fear the day the Lichbane come for them.
Darius Lichbane, the Lord of House Lichbane, possessed two children. Nathanael Lichbane, his eldest son and heir to the family, and his beautiful, radiant daughter Penelope. Growing up without their mother due to her passing from illness meant that the two children were often left in the care of their numerous servants. Nathanael, ambitious and reckless, would often boast his desires to follow in the footsteps of their valiant father. Penelope was content in her simple, cloistered life, but was also expected to train and study with the same level of vigor as her brother.
While Nathanael flourished, Penelope was subject to years of emotional and sometimes physical abuse at the hands of her father. Her shortcomings were always emphasized, every failure painfully branded into her flesh with searing insults. In time she began to retreat into her shell, focussing only on pleasing her father out of fear. The one time she reached out was to her brother, but he was so infatuated with the heroic image of his father that he refused to see her plea as anything but the whining of a spoiled brat.
Years later, their family shattered by the abrupt loss of Nathanael, Penelope had been shaped into the meticulous and skilled paladin that could uphold the Lichbane name when her brother no longer could. Though after the events that took her brothers life, she felt as though her purpose lie elsewhere. Seeking to forge a life outside of her family, Penelope departed her noble lifestyle in the hopes of seeing the world as an adventurer. Her father disapproved, but is mockingly confident that she will return to him soon.
Other
Penelope has a pet Wolfhound named Rogue; though the two were unfortunately separated whilst on their travels.
[hider=Ninty Bat] Appearance : In true Elven manner she stands high above most Humans and some might say she looks fairly beautiful, given half a chance. But she appears far too thin and bags sit underneath her piercing brown eyes. Ginger hair, cut roughly to her neck, sticks out in odd directions from beneath a sturdy leather hood. Her nose is crooked from a bad break but luckily, she still has all her teeth. Her armour is simple leather, but her boots are a much higher quality, beneath which she wears simple green clothing. Ninty carries all her belongings in a simple brown satchel tied to her back alongside her bow, a quiver attached to her belt, and finally a dented violin case she carries in hand.
Name : Ninty Bat
Title : The Lyrical Ranger
Gender : Female
Age : 47
Personality : Simply put Ninty is loud and brash; she’s very self-assured, prefers to confront things head on,and refuses to give in to anyone without good reason. And like her parents before her, she’d rather die than give up her morals. She’s speak to others with all honesty but tries to put a comforting spin on things and expects others to do the same for her, and isn’t at all pleased when they don’t. Often this has led to fights and falling outs with other people but Ninty refuses to feel bad about it. Sadly, once she gets riled up there’s not much anyone can do to calm her down other than wait for her to tire herself out. Also, she does have a envious streak especially when others can do things she prides herself in with more speed and grace, or simply has something she wants. Whilst not the most intelligent person Ninty is by no means a simpleton, some might say there’s more going on up there than even she knows, and she is not averse to showing off if given half the chance. Her pride has gotten her into trouble on numerous occasions.
Abilities : - A very good shot able to shoot most small game as it runs. - Can even make shots in low light (think around dusk or twilight), or if her targets are easily visible at night. - Possesses great endurance letting her run, walk, and climb for longer than most people. [/color] - Whilst not the strongest, her thin frame means she can slip out of various combat holds and traps with ease.
Skills : - Setting up and running a business and day to day management. - Playing the violin. - Cooking meals. - Ninty can speak a few languages with enough proficiency to have a simple conversation. - Good at remembering details, but only for a few days. - Basic wilderness skills including cooking, foraging, trapmaking and camping. However, the majority of this is self-taught so she is by no means an expert. - Able to track animals like deer or bears.
Gear : - A notebook and pencil, halfway filled with songs and little tunes - A simple bow along with a selection of arrows or varying quality - Her Grandmothers Violin, a once beautiful instrument covered in scenes worn and chipped almost beyond recognition.
Bio :
Once upon a time, Ninty had the perfect life with her Fathers and Grandmother in the port city of Brazen, a city that connected the West to the rest of the world. Together her Father Nathaniel, a savvy businessman, and her Papa Andrew, a seasoned sailor, ran one of the most lucrative trading companies around; whether it be jewels, food, or other such goods the Midnight Trading Co was the place to go. Whilst Ninty was indeed lavished with only the very best of everything it was her Grandmother, Narral, that resolutely made sure that Ninty didn’t grow up a spoiled brat and dragged the screaming toddler into the kitchens to do the washing up every day amongst various other jobs. Her Parents (wisely) decided not to get in her Grandmothers way.
Of course Ninty soon enough had to begin thinking about marriage and then later taking over the family business. As a family of elves there was plenty of time but Ninty none-the-less began asking her Father about how to run a business and her Papa about the best times for sailing. While Ninty enjoyed sitting in on board meetings and weekend sailing trips it was still a dull life, devoid of something small but important, so her Grandmother began to teach Ninty the Violin. Eventually Ninty even received her Grandmothers own beautifully carved and decorated Violin as a ‘coming of age present’.
Many years passed by in relative peace disturbed only by the constant gossip and rumours in the taverns of war to the west. But Ninty paid it no mind safe in the knowledge that no one would attack her home, even as the commoners began to flee the city. It had been a beautiful day when the world ended, the sky was clear and the gulls had ceased their screaming, and as she practiced in the Library Ninty admired the few of boats in the docks. She paid no mind to the servants that hadn’t cleaned that day, or the cook who had simply left without a word. Her Grandmother came crashing through in a state of panic demanding the she had to leave the city at once. Outside another family waited and then took her to the docks as per her Grandmothers instructions, a few silver pieces for their troubles, and she promised to meet Ninty there with her Fathers.
It was on the ship that Ninty realized her world had ended. Standing on the dock of the ship filled to bursting with refugees just like her, violin clutched tightly in her hands, and no sight of her family she realised she was alone. Watching the city drift away from them as a plume of dust and debris was thrown skyward by pillars of fire Ninty wondered what was she to do now?
Years past and Niny had long since given up on returning home. Nights spent in the woods huddled with others running for their lives from the Great Lords armies had striped her of such naivety but did little to tame the spirit her grandmother had cultivated. In roadside taverns, she played her Violin for a bed and a meal before setting off again with everyone else to Cartevan; a human city which had become a haven to refugees like her. But as the war continued those who live there became restless and unhappy with all the ‘immigrants’ taking their jobs and homes, shortly a slum grew on the cities side like a tumour as Ninty and her fellow Elves were driven out but had nowhere to go. Even after the Great War had long since finished The Slum is still there.
3 years after the Great War, The Rusty Boar was the best tavern in the Slum and was where Ninty worked as a performer and bar maid to pay her rent. One night she overheard a group of adventurers discussing their travels and one mentioned being attacked by a group of Goblins on his journey and a married couple by the name of Bat helping him. The tray she had been carrying was quickly forgotten, mugs fell and shattered on the floor, as Ninty rounded on the stammering dwarf and demanded the names of the couple. She left Cartevan within the hour.
4 years later and Ninty is still chasing her Parents across the wounded lands of Auguria with only snippets and rumours to guide her. It’s not much but she takes comfort in knowing that they’re still out there, but until she finds them she must make her own way in the world and that means taking on any jobs that come her way.
