Leta of Reach, first of his name. Leta, given to him by his mother and father long since laid to rest. Reach, the name of his home, the floating city of the west. The first and only. Where the Wingdred passed the days, away from the hands of those below. It had stood since time immemorial.
Biography: Leta was an orphan, left on the alter of a priest of the feather. There he grew, learning magic, and harnessing his ability to control his wings, becoming closer and closer to the angels. Leta excelled past his brethren, eventually working his way toward the right hand side of The Archduke. There he has served without fault. Recently, the archduke has sent Leta on his first solo mission. To provide aid for a resistance force in any way he and his small band can. It was not Leta's place to ask why, only to fulfill the will of the gods.
Personality: Leta has been sheltered, raised among serious men. He does his best to reflect that. He doesn't understand fun, see's it as a waste of time, and believes it would be better spent in prayer. Leta wants nothing more than to prove himself to the church. Leta is not battle hardened yet, but has a keen eye for strategy.
Powers: Leta can fly, as long as his wings are not injured. Leta can harness "the power of the feather", also know as using wind as a weapon. This includes cutting through the air, and pushing objects, etc...
Strengths: Leta has faith that whatever he does for the church of the feather is just. Leta has the backing of a dozen Wingdred fighters, although they are only used to help the resistance. He has a tactical mind, and is able to formulate statistically likely plans, when given adequate time.
Limitations: Leta has little to no hand to hand combat, and nothing to attack at close range outside of a blunt thin staff. Leta is inexperienced in combat, and is likely to become overwhelmed easily.
Ah, the old, "everyone congregate in one bar" trope. Love it. But what can you do when your only form of possible interaction is all stuffed inside one place.
Name: Rashazar Ravohadur Age: 28 Gender: Male Race: Half-Dragon
History:
Where does one begin with a fellow like Rashazar Ravohadur? Well, one could begin at the very beginning. With his father. A Gold Dragon, and ruler of the small town of Riverside. A lovely place, despite not actually being near any rivers. Instead, Riverside was placed firmly in the mountains, and the nae of all things was a belief. The villagers believed that one day if they named their town such, the universe would bend to their whims and bring such a rain that they'd never fear for water again. Of course, such things never did come, and the town was desperate. But... That was until a young Golden Dragon arrived in the mountains. His name, was Augur, and he had no title yet. He was the son of his father, a much more powerful dragon who was ashamed of his child's weakness. Sending him far away in exile. Now, Augur wasn't weak by any means. Instead, he was far too kind and patient. The people of Riverside began to dread that a dragon would doom them, and sought to offer him tribute in exchange to leave them alone. Instead, Augur was interested in their kindness, and chose to stay. In exchange, the gave the poor villagers a single gift. Once a year, he would give them a single one of his golden scales, and they would continue to give him tribute. It was a fine agreement, of course. After all, nobody was foolish enough to challenge a dragon. Over a century passed in this way, and the people respected the dragon who gifted them a single golden scale.
For a single golden scale was a great gift. With it, the town could afford all sorts of things. Food, water, gifts a plenty. In time, the small town flourished, becoming greater, but never approaching on the territory dictated by the great golden dragon, least they acquire his wrath. Until... One day, when the last of the elders passed away... The villagers stopped caring. They became greedy, and demanded two scales! Augur refused of course, since one scale was enough. The villagers refused to give tribute, and held it ransom for two scales. Augur again refused, and went back to his cave. Until a lady arrived in his cave. She knelt before the dragon, and spun a tale of woe. A tale that could pull the heartstrings of all creatures, even dragons. She told how a great disease was destroying the village, and two scales was needed to survive. Finally, Augur relented.
The next year, they demanded three scales. Augur refused again, and again, until the maiden came by again. This time she told a story that pulled on his heart once more. Strangling the dragon with woe and worries. Realizing he was being tricked, he shoo'd her away. But her story haunted over him, and after a weak of restless sleep, he relented again. By the next year, it was four golden scales. The maiden returned but before she could spin her tail, Augur stopped her. He spun a tale of his own, about how he was haunted by her beauty. He told her the sweetest tales of love, and how she had become his new desire. That he would trade his golden scales, only for one night with her. A single night, became a month, and finally she descended the mountain to the village with four scales. But, she did not stay in the village longer. She left that same night, and in the morning Augur had decided the greed of the village to demand more and more had become a threat. Why settle for merely four when one day they could come for them all?
The village burned, but the maiden lived, carrying inside her a child of a dragon. She settled in another village, by the name of Crowheights, and this time the name was genuine. For this village was high up again, and filled with crows. Crows who devoured the crops and brought despair once a month. There, the maiden gave birth to her only child, who she named Rashazar Ravohadur. Because she believed a long name would protect him from curses directed at him. For he was not human, and a strange child of human and dragon was... Unlikely to be tolerated. But, they kept to their own lives, and none questioned their secrecy. Until one day, the boy crept out of his house at night, and climbed onto the roof of the tavern. from above, he could see celebration, mystery and intrigue. Stories told and lies explained. And a bard at the center of every such tale! Slowly, the young Rashazar began to study them. He crafted his own lute, and began to play just like them. Sometimes, as the bar patrons sat around they'd hear a strange melody from the roof, but they never dared to look. For it could be a witch, bewitching men with her calls. For many where tempted to follow up onto the roof to see who could sing such lovely tons.
There was only a few who would come to hear Rashazar sing and play. That was the crows. Unlike the humans in the taverns they had no qualms with such melodies or bewitchments. In fact, as Rashazar spun his tales and songs, the crows often put on a play to match his words. For such admirers were they that anything he said was their reality. But when he stopped, they were back to their wicked ways. In time, as Rashazar became a teen, the villagers cried for help. As the crows would never stop tormenting the villagers. Many a hunter, many a hero came. But they all fled the village in fright. Until finally, seeing a chance to be part of them, Rashazar took to the streets. The played his tunes, he sang his song, and the crows followed out from the village. There, he weaved a tale that they would never return, and they did just that. But Rashazar did return to the village, full of fear. A man that looked like a dragon! With golden scales, and they knew how desired the scales of a golden dragon where. They became overwhelmed with greed, and demanded his scales. In truth, they planned to kill him despite his help. Full of anger, the halfling made a new song. One of such anger. One of such force, that told of a town abandoned. About how the citizens threw themselves from the high cliffs seeking to grab the wings of a golden dragon. Their own greed ending their lives. They did just that. His words so powerful, so full of hate and loathing that a spell was cast. They threw themselves from the cliffs of the village, and where never seen again. Rashazar, finally realizing what he had done, attempted to turn back his actions, but he could not. He was no god.
Alone he lived for a few years, hunting when he could, but nothing... Nothing could fill the hole in his heart in such... Loneliness. Until finally, he packed up his bag, and set out to study the lands. Maybe living in such an empty town was not what he needed. He discovered the rest of the world was... More tolerable than the town of Crowheights. After all, anybody with talent could find a new life, if they didn't stay long. Rashazar moved quickly, barely staying long but collecting his own little horde on the way. He still moves about, keeping a quick pace through the land, and being quite the marvelous bard.
At the time, Rashazar has been spotted with the rebel forces. He claims it's because he wants to be the first to document the life of the 'hero' Kenan.
Abilities: While not a particularly powerful mage, Rashazar is a fantastic bard. When he plays his music he has a unique ability to twist the minds of others. Almost like the ability to control minds. But, often times used more to twist desires. A modern day pied piper, in any case. Often times, he cannot make a person kill themselves, unless they are weak willed or greedy enough for a tale to be spun of them dying in such a way. His abilities lie more in the ability to distract, or force others to do him favors. Essentially when he sings or plays his instrument you must preform a will save. If that helps.
Story Weaving: The magic to weave a story with song and music. These stories can trap lesser willed individuals into attempting to recreate the story he weaves.
Golden Tongue: A golden tongue is naturally worth more than a silver tongue. He has a tricky way with language, and can pull a lie so convincing that even if it sounds ridiculous others may be convinced.
Fire Music: Rashazar possesses the ability to strum a tune to control fire. He makes it dance like people never can or will. Essentially, he is the master of fire, and the strumming of his lute can make a spark become a field of fire, or a field into smoke.
Personality: Submissive and Totally at the will of whomever she gives her collar until thier death. Then the collar opens and she gives it to someone else to put on her. The collar is made by Nicci to allow her to hear and see through her master's ears and eyes to keep him safe.
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-The Gift-
Additive Magic: Additive Magic is the power to add to something that is there, multiply it, or turn it into something new. When the Wizards of the Midlands alter reality, they use Additive Magic to add to or change traits that were required for the task that the being or object was to be transformed to perform.
Subtractive Magic: While Additive magic alters physical reality by adding magic to it, Subtractive magic removes elements of physical reality. The magic makes the elements disappear, by transporting them to the Underworld, where Subtractive magic originated. This side of The Gift is often thought of as evil, and a sign of a possessed mage to the ignorant.