Name: Emil Durand
Age: 23
Gender: Male
Class: Stryxrider
Country of Origin: Lutaire

Weapons:

• A worn, but well crafted lance made of treated ash wood, and a spearhead with two prongs at its base crafted from steel. The opposite side of the lance is capped in steel, and tappers to a narrow, but not sharp point.
• A light set of armor, consisting primarily of a breastplate, shoulder pauldron, leg guards, and vambraces.
• Light barding for his Stryx, which covers the head, breast, and legs.

Appearance:
Emil is a young man standing in at about six feet in height, with the build of an athlete- or at least one used to regular physical exertion. While not the pinnacle of strength and endurance, Emil is in good fighting shape, and his body is sinewy and lithe. He has a few scars on his body- though none of them are from combat. His eyes are a light green, and his tweedy blonde hair is pulled into a short ponytail. His typical attire is a nice dark tunic, with thick linen trousers, and well worn riding boots and gloves.

Personality::
Warm and kind-hearted, Emil is a modest young man with a strong sense of morality and justice. This level headed youth stands stalwart and rational in the face of hardship and adversity, despite his inexperience. Honest and trustworthy, Emil is compassionate and kind, if reserved and somewhat lazy. Loyal to a fault, Emil is more than willing to risk himself for the sake of others, and goes to great lengths to defend his loved ones. A very down to earth and grounded individual, Emil's calm and casually confident demeanor allows him to anchor the morale of those around him.

Short Biography:
Emil, youngest son of the Durand family, comes from a family of Stryx breeders. Based just outside of Vaucluse, the Durand Aviary is one of the few businesses that even put Vaucluse on the map. Well regarded as some of the finest breeders of Stryx in Lutaire, Durand Stryxes are known for their ferocity as well as discipline, making them some of the most sought after war mounts. Emil, like the rest of his brothers grew up around the winged creatures, learning to care for them as soon as they were able. With the money afforded to them from such a business, Emil and his brothers were well educated to the standard of nobles from a young age and were taught manners, writing, as well as basic martial skills and knowledges as children. Throughout their childhood, Emil and his brothers would often venture into the Vaucluse to play with other children. Emil made friends easily, and was known for his gentle and calm demeanor, while the rest of his brothers were respected for their various other qualities.

As they grew older, Emil found himself staying at the Aviary more often, his responsibilities at the Aviary grew, though between four sons, it was obvious that their eldest brother Elliot would be taking over the Aviary as they got older. Their second brother Duncan would likely stay there as well, having always been the best with bookkeeping. Military culture had always been strong in the Durand family, what with their Aviary being so sought after by ambitious knights and rich warriors, so it wasn't out of the blue when the third brother Sigmund convinced Emil to join the Vaucluse militia with him.

Emil struggled in the militia, especially during his first few years. While physically capable- moreso than several of the other recruits, many trainers found Emil to be too relaxed, too reserved. However, very few militiamen in Vaucluse could afford Stryx mounts, and when two of the Durand boys expressed interest in joining the militia with two Stryxes, they could hardly say no.

A few years later, Emil is finally coming into his own. While still lazy and aloof, he isn't nearly as passive or lackadaisical. When not helping out at the Aviary, Emil and his brother Sigmund fly patrols around Vaucluse, spotting packs of monsters and beasts that stray too close to the town, then supporting the teams the militia send out to fight off the encroaching beasts.

Summary:
A confident, but relaxed young man and his loyal mount.

Other:
Emil's mount is a dusty brown colored stryx resembling a hawk. Named Greytail, for its ash colored tailfeathers, Emil's stryx is rather aggressive and highly protective of its rider.

Name: Vane Hadleigh
Age: 21
Gender: Male
Class: Marksman
Country of Origin: Lutaire

Weapons: - A recurve bow made out of monster parts and wood. It holds up pretty well, even if it’s a bit DIY.
- Standard broadhead arrows meant for hunting.
- A hunting knife used for whatever needs cutting. Useful enough as a last resort in a battle.
- Light leather armor used for protection when hunting.

Appearance: About 5 foot 9 inches in height. His eyes are a dull green, similar in overall color to his blonde hair. Though not notably muscular as a whole, he has a well-developed upper body with wide shoulders, and as a result he can shoot a hunting bow with relative ease. His hands have an uncountable amount of nicks and scars from a lifetime of using knives and other kinds of blades.

Personality:: He’s one bad, bad boy… Though, that’s probably a bit of an exaggeration, seeing as he’s more snide than anything else. He’s not exactly the most morally aligned, what with the lying (“inaccurate advertising”, they call it), but it’s not like he’s about to go rob a store or kill a guy or anything. Apart from that though, Vane is a dreamer more than anything. He spends his days thinking of the future, of what he could be and what he could do. It’s easy to see why he’s a bit repressed living in Vaucluse-- bottled up feelings are the quickest path to a short temper. At least he’s passionate?

Short Biography: Vane isn’t quite a disappointment per say, but his parents definitely wish he wasn’t… like that. He’s the only son to a family running a butcher shop and there’s some real heavy implications that he’s going to be the one that takes over the business and continues the lineage. You see, Vane doesn’t hate his parents or anything, and he doesn’t even hate the work, but the concept of staying in Vaucluse for the rest of his life in that dingy little butcher shop? Yeah, that’s… That sounds insufferable. There’s a whole world out there and Vane is going to rot away surrounded by rotten meat… Not that the meat’s rotten or anything. It’s completely fresh. Totally. No salmonella here.

When Vane’s not having weird existential crises, he’s usually either working with his father or out hunting. Most of the time they just do business with ranchers (plenty of domestic animals waiting for slaughter after all), but Vane’s been taught the art of hunting quite well. He does his part in quelling monster populations, half because it’s the moral thing to do and half because certain people pay good money for some weird and dangerous beast meat. You ever have drake steak?

He’s not exactly the most popular kid on the block, what with his rather unique hobby (if that’s what you want to call it), but Vane found friends in the sons of other shop owners. When you have to see the same person again and again and again for business, it’s only a matter of time before you get along one way or another. Vane’s known for his habit of springing long rant sessions upon anyone who listens, which unfortunately means he preys upon the quiet ones the most.

Summary: Bored butcher boy with a basketcase of bratwurst.

Other: He’s really good at cooking, but he would never tell you that.

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Name: Rylan Twyford

Age: 18

Gender: Male

Class: Scoundrel

Country of Origin: Tenebroux

Weapons:


Appearance:


Personality:


Short Biography:


Summary: If it looks like a street rat, sounds like a street rat and smells like a street rat, it's probably Rylan.

Other:

♙ Has a soft spot for animals of all kinds, and would love to one day behold a dragon up close. A dangerous affair, he knows, but it's not animals - even fire-breathing ones - that scare him so; it's people.

♙ Has spent time in a few other towns and villages besides the one he currently resides in. He often does his travelling with merchants or performer groups, working for free in exchange for protection from the elements. He's been in this village for a few years now, and leaving has crossed his mind. It's never a good thing to stay in one place for too long, lest you get caught and lose a hand or two.

Name: Sabine Morrick
Age: 25
Gender: Female
Class: Pirate
Country of Origin: Tenebroux

Weapons: -An axe not all dissimilar to naval boarding axes, albeit not nearly as polished. The handle and shaft is of a fine wood and the curved blade has a fine sharpness. It's heftier than a hatchet but light enough to be used effectively with one hand.
-A cloth sack tucked away in her inn room. Its contents are a somewhat worn brocade jacket and leather trousers and gloves.
-A pouch with coins always affixed to her waist. Not exactly a weapon but almost as useful as one.

Appearance:

Sabine's most striking feature is her ash blonde hair which she has let grow long enough to where she fixes it in a ponytail. Her face has rather soft features, save for her rather sharp jawline and the steely ice-blue of her eyes. Surprising for a woman of her age she has a somewhat stocky build to her though the musculature is obscured by her present day-to-day attire of cloth and woolen clothing. Her arm strength, enough to use her axe without difficulty, doesn't betray her otherwise unmistakably feminine curves in her plainclothes. Always hidden, be it by neckerchief or by hair or clothing, Sabine has an odd marking on the back of her neck that resembles a burn or a branding.

Personality:: Given the fact that Sabine has a very loose definition of morals it's almost shocking how personable and polite she is around most company. Charismatic comes to mind after a single conversation with Sabine, and given her habit of using words to quell a situation or to turn one to her advantage, it's easy to see why she has a bit of a captivating presence. Of course, the ones with the silver tongues happen to often be the biggest liars and Sabine is no exception to that. While she would certainly prefer to use bribes or deals to her advantage, she's seen enough of the world to know that when diplomacy and negotiation fails that the only other option is to make sure the other guy isn't in any position to fight back. Her coin purse might be tight but her morals certainly aren't, and in a fight Sabine doesn't give her opponent the time to strike first and mercy is not a concept that enters the equation. Why should she show mercy in a fight when they wouldn't show her the same?

Short Biography: Sabine Morrick was once a romanticist who dreamed of a life of adventure and exploration which she attributed to her father primarily. Her father was a simple man. A fisherman by trade who sold the day's catches at market and used the profits for a bit of fun with the wench population. Sabine couldn't begin to guess which of Tenebroux's wenches had the misfortune of carrying her to term but she hoped she had the decency not to have any customers for that time. Sabine loved the sea and the breeze and salty spray it brought in every morning; as long as she could remember she wanted to join her father on a fishing excursion. He didn't want to bring her but Sabine had a knack for getting her way. She begged until he relented.

How fortunate that the first time Sabine and her father went fishing in their little boat that they would be met by pirates. It was hardly the ideal way to spend her twelfth birthday. They took Sabine and her father on board but there was little use for a plump fisherman other than chum for the sharks and he was promptly gutted and tossed overboard. Sabine, being a girl, could fetch a price for the right bidder and was kept aboard. It became clear that selling her wasn't exactly high on their priority list given that selling her too soon would mean an unknown time before they next even laid sights on a lass.

Sabine had a rather unpleasant three years with the pirates but it hardened her, for better and for worse. She assumed the worst they could do was make her watch as they murdered her father; she was wrong, but it only fueled her. Fortunes changed, somewhat, when Sabine struck back. One of the drunken crew members was easy enough to convince to get Sabine's hands free of the bindings, and from there it was as easy as taking his weapon and using it against him. She had thought this would lead to her own undoing but the Captain was somewhat impressed by the initiative shown. So much so that he offered Sabine a place on the crew, nothing glamorous, but it was better than being a prisoner. The crew objected but Sabine accepted.

The Captain grew somewhat fond of Sabine and while Sabine never saw the Captain as a father figure, she did use the opportunity to learn skills. Map reading. Sailing. How to fight like her life was on the line. The Captain was quite the teacher, but his greatest lesson was teaching Sabine how to command respect. The lessons lasted two years and Sabine learned soon enough that there was more to it than just 'fondness' with the Captain. Sabine took advantage of the Captain's fondness one evening and the Captain became the second life she took willingly. The rest of the crew was initially angered by this blatant act of mutiny, but Sabine learned her lessons well. Those who had a problem with her could either fall in line or fall on the edge of a blade.

Morrick's Mauraders was born that night and for six years the name 'Morrick' was infamous throughout Tenebroux for their ferocity and their raiding. When they raided a port they cut a bloody swath and took what they demanded - and not always just coins and food. Morrick, the Captain of these brigands, was always believed to be a man due to Sabine wearing long clothing and obscuring her face. When Morrick's Mauraders turned their sights to robbing Romeras' gold, or at least spreading the whispers that they had bigger sights in mind, the king had to intervene and the Mauraders were intercepted by the King's forces.

Sabine put the Captain's mantle on a different crew member and acted like a kidnapped victim in the hold when the soldiers boarded. It was a gamble, but given that Sabine stripped herself of the identity, it was believable. Using the name Sabine Bellacourt, she managed to be 'rescued' and used the chaos to escape. Any soldier worth a damn would have eventually found the brand on the back of her neck and she didn't want to take the chance. Sabine fled as far as Lutaire and has remained under the radar. People believe Morrick to be dead, and in some ways 'he' is.

Though she's been keeping a low profile, Sabine would be lying if she said she didn't still feel the call of adventure, wherever it might be. It's been two years since her supposed 'death' and it's about time for a revival. Assuming, of course, she can find a new sort of legacy.

Summary: An infamous former pirate escaping her own reputation.

Other: Is illiterate but is quite the navigator; fortunately she didn't need to know how to read words in order to read a map.