Name: Leomund Anglehook.

Appearance:

Race: Human.

Magic/Abilities:

His range of spells is fairly small and not the strongest by far. There are three basic fields he has shown more aptitude in than others.

Blessings
Among the various fields he's dabbled in during his schooling one that seems to come easier than others is the ability to strengthening one's physical capabilities and other forms of aid. He can imbue himself and others with greater strength, fleeter movement and enhanced durability. He can only grant someone as many as two of these boons at once, never more. These blessings last for as long as he wants them to, the spell only ending with a conscious thought to cancel them. For every person gifted with one of his blessings the total potency of the blessings is divided by the total number of people in possession of such blessing. This is due to the active nature of the spell, taking away from his magic in a constant stream which forks with each additional individual selected. While this connection is not limited by distance magics that distrupt the flow will prematurely end the blessing.

Wards
A magic which offers protection both to individuals and over designated areas against a wide variety of foes and magics alike. These spells form an invisible bubble either around a person or a select area, hedging out a single subject of the caster's choosing. Most wards only have one designated subject to bar from trespass, allowing everything else to pass through freely. Certain things are more difficult to ward against than others simply for the practical reason that just as the subject cannot enter a ward the owner of said ward also cannot approach the subject. For example if the caster were to ward against dirt or stone they might find it hard to walk as the ward thusly prevents them from reaching the ground. Things that are already inside a ward at the time of casting are free to exit the ward just fine but if they are the subject of the ward they will be barred from re-entry afterwards. Wards aren't even a perfect defense against their subject either. The strength of a ward's protection is based on the strength of the spell which is largely decided by the caster and what they are capable of casting.

Healing
Exactly what it says on the tin. He's not super at it but it'll suffice.

Apart from these three arts he's only really got one direct offense spell that he's able to use effectively in the middle of a fight.

Mine
This spell deploys a small mote of white light which can detonate in a small explosion of pure force. The strength of the spell isn't very strong, the actual force of the explosion comparable to the hind kick of a large horse. The radius of the explosion is roughly five feet or so, only detonating when an enemy is within a couple feet of the mote of light itself. The mine can either be left to stay where it's created or it can be set to repeatedly travel upon a designated path, floating gently along in a steady patrol until an enemy triggers it. It cannot travel through solid objects. It can only be triggered by those the caster has designated as foes so if anyone else walks into one it will not explode or cause any other form of harm.

Personality:

Calm, simple and rational. He's a fairly closed in type, not the most outgoing short. Some might even describe him as a bit shy. He doesn't like talking about himself much. His ambitions aren't particularly grandiose. He just wants to graduate so he can help those close to him. Seeing as it's a fair honor to receive an invitation to study at such a prestigious academy it would be a disservice to his family not to accept. The money and position in society offered by such a scholarship would benefit his father and it gives him an opportunity to learn more about the world in general. He's a curious one, quite fascinated by things that would normally frighten normal folk.

Perhaps that might be because he's fairly nervous around pretty much everything to begin with. He's not a bold soul, his shyness not helping that matter. Despite this he'll go above and beyond to do right to those he owes it to. He almost never breaks a promise and holds strongly to his word. In fact a majority of his study is centered around helping out the friend he made. Outside of that he studies but as mentioned before he has little to no ambition of his own. Power is of little interest as he has few things he'd use it for and riches would only make life harder to manage so he purposefully avoids accumulating wealth to himself. Fame has little draw for him as he's nervous around company, especially crowds. Really once he's met his needs and fulfilled his obligations left to his own devices he'd largely just read up on various curiosities largely as a hobby.

He's learned to fight not out of any desire to actually see combat but rather so he can handle himself should he be separated from his friends and left to fend for himself. His natural aptitudes leave him paltry as a war magus, hardly capable of laying any degree of men to waste with any of his magic alone. He makes due with using his magic to boost his ability to fight and using brute force to fight off others. Given the chance he'd much rather let others do the fighting and simply support them with his magic but sadly that's not always an option.

Background:

Leomund is little more than a simple fisherman's son from a quaint fishing village off the shore of a great sea by the mainland. His mother died giving birth to him so for the most part it's just been him and his father. The two of them fished for a living, paying their taxes and keeping what was left for food. On good months they'd have some left over to sell in the markets. The money helped smooth over some of the poorer hauls they had so in the end it was all balanced out.

Of course his father wanted a good life for his son so naturally as a sort of plea to the fortunes he put forward an application for his son to join Seraph Academy. While ordinarily a fisherman's son would have little to no chance in joining a school like theirs luck just so happened to be in their favor. While going over application letters his application was mistakenly placed in the accepted pile which was then taken and issued congratulatory letters for their acceptance into their school. When the news got back his father celebrated.

While this was a chance for them to make it big and strike out of the humble lifestyle of simple fishermen this ultimately meant that Leomund had a long road to walk ahead of him, both figuratively and literally. Renting out the only spellbook the village held from the village elder his father had him study hard to learn a cursory amount of magic, just enough to fake an understanding of magic that would hopefully be enough to get him by at the start. Soon enough the school year would begin so to get him in on time they set him up with a pack of his belongings and set him out to go and make a future for himself in the big city.

So he set forth.

And not long after he left the village after many hours of walking night fell. With night came a band of vicious bandits, armed men who waylaid his campsite and tied him up while they looted him of all his possessions. Just as they were finished robbing him they were going to leave him for dead when from the inky depths of the darkened woods a menacing figure trudged forth. Stepping into the light of the campfire the tall and intimidating figure of a dark armored foe was revealed. She towered over each and every one of them, a veritable statue of metal, and clutched in her grip was a massive ship's anchor. It might of been rusted all across but the great bend of iron was more than thick enough to hold strong ever still. With each resounding step the chains which bound the loop of the anchor to her left arm rattled, giving off this aura of dread which filled the hearts of all who faced her. Peering down at the quivering mortals beneath her the glowing yellow eyes from the yawning darkness that was the inside of the helmet cast their dread-filling light upon the terrified rogues.

She needed not deliver a single blow as they scattered before she could even face them down. Little did they know that she had no clue what was even going on. She just wanted to say hi. Luckily for Leomund her approach was all that was needed to drive his captors off, leaving him now free albeit still bereft of all possessions with the exception of his acceptance letter which he cleverly hid in the dirt when the bandits weren't observing him.

Despite her imposing apparel Leomund found himself more thankful to this strange ominous savior of his rather than intimidated like all the others. When she spoke it was quite clear she meant him no harm. She was a wandering mercenary who traveled the land taking money in exchange for use of her unnatural strength to crush foes with the ship anchor she wielded. He asked her what the price for her service was. She just shrugged. She had no real acumen for coin so she would just accept whatever sounded good for the job. With this in mind he basically offered her the job of guarding him and in exchange when he finally made it big as a caster of some sort he'd pay for all her expenses. She agreed to it because it sounded like a good trade and he was nice about it.

And so the two of them set forward to Zauberheim. Along the way he learned that she was in fact a drowned sailor who's spent a very long time walking the ocean floor before she finally found land. Neither of them are sure how long but it was probably pretty long given how much rust her anchor had gathered. She was a strange sort with a few marbles missing for sure but given how she stepped in and helped him when he was staring at a very immediate death he's able to overlook such eccentricities.

Such is the story of how Leomund got to school. The rest, as they say, is a tale for another time. Maybe soon. Probably.

Name: Gangraena the Abyss Treader.

Appearance:

Race: Light Elf.

Magic/Abilities:

Having been restored by some ancient entity at the bottom of the ocean's deepest chasms she possesses unusual alterations to her body which have changed her greatly. The dark graft which keeps her alive also grants her an unnatural level of strength as well as nearly endless stamina. As a result of this unearthly change her ability to use any form of magic is completely forfeit. Even despite her heritages natural inclination she's never had any talent in casting anyhow.

Perhaps the strangest thing about this are the dark creatures which confer these gifts. Her body is filled with a tightly pact network of tiny ichorous tendrils which grasp one another, forming a network capable of exerting such force. They communicate each other through the dark magic they've been fused with. There is no part of her that ceases to move regardless of how badly she's torn apart. Even in the case of decapitation her body will continue to move as if still connected to her head, albeit a bit more awkwardly given the disconnect between her head's position and her body's. Thanks to the tendrils breathing is no longer required and they are sustained by the dark magic, sustaining her in turn. Her tolerance for pain much like her stamina is no less plentiful and despite completely lacking eyes the dark magic confers a special sight which allows her to see as any normal person of her former species would.

These symbiotes have some other curious properties that it confers upon it's host. She is highly resiliant to dark magic and while normal methods of healing bear no effect on her some curses will actually restore her vitality.

Lastly as a result of an ancient pact between her dark benefactor and the oceans themselves the water will never bring her damage or decay. While variety of aquatic beastmen can decide for themselves at large many of the true beasts of the deep will ignore her.

Personality:

Despite being a creature close to all would consider wholly unnatural she's pretty chipper about it all. She's a bright and sunny soul who just so happens to be a barnacle-ridden mess of dark magic who has spent several thousand years trudging the deepest reaches of the ocean in search of land. While many a mind would shatter in the fathomless length of time spent wandering in pitch black waters she seems to have come away from it rather well. Perhaps maybe that alone is it's own form of insanity.

Even in life she was never the sharpest tool in the shed. She's extremely trusting and often a poor judge of character. Though she might be quite naive her experience in combat during her time ashore clearly shows. She understands violence quite well and quickly resorts to such methods in the face of most obstacles. She's nearly impossible to threaten and negative emotions run past her with plenty of haste as she flits back to a positive frame of mind quite easily.

As a bit of a side effect from the whole process her knowledge of her own past is spotty at best. Bits and pieces are left floating in a gulph of darkness and not just the stretch of time occupying her memory where nothing but walking occured and darkness was all she could see. Oftentimes she can be rather addle-minded, forgetful and quite easily confused as well. She means well though and generally holds little ill-will towards most folks. Her aims are simply enough to go from day to day, surviving and spending time with good friends when she can. Quite frankly anything is better than wandering the depths of the ocean so she's quite easy to please.

Background:

A long time ago in a large port city run by the light elves were a family of sailors. When she was of age she'd join her father on his voyages, traveling the waters aboard their seaworthy vessel. One night however the weather was particularly stormy and the ship was overturned. Most of the sailors aboard the ship drowned that night but Gangraena's fate was chosen by a different force. As she begun to drown shadowy forces dragged her below, pulling her body well into the depths. Even as she lost consciousness her form drifted inbetween the great oceanic crags and into the great tear in the earth's face below the waves.

So deep below she was pulled. She was dragged into depths which in ordinary circumstances would hold pressures too great for the soft bodies of most surface dwellers. This was no ordinary circumstance however, dark magic protecting her from the dangers of the deep until she was brought into a long forgotten temple which had sunk into the ocean ages ago. This mysterious entity took her into it's flooded halls and set her upon it's unearthly altar. Though drowned she was not wholly dead before it began the process.

When she awoke everything was dark. There was only water in her lungs and there was no light to see by. Without anything to go by she started to float about without direction. As she left the temple she was starting to float away so she grasped around herself for something to hold onto. She managed to grab hold of the anchor which had fallen off her ship which was destroyed in the storm. With the anchor weighing her down she was able to set her feet on the ground and begin her long trek, dragging the anchor along behind her like it was some old oar.

_
From then on she simply walked. She had no direction to follow so she'd simply walk until she ran into something and then try to walk around that. This continued for thousands upon thousands of years. Though long as such a trek might be it could of been shorter but she had a terrible sense of direction and often wound up walking in circles for many years at a time. Sometimes she would fall into pits that could swallow mountains and occasionally she'd run into mountains that make those of the surface world seem pitifully small by comparison. Being a realm vastly larger than the surface land it's features often dwarfed those that appeared above.

For a time so long it beggars the imagination she simply wandered the depths, anchor in hand. Eventually she stumbled into a village of deep ones. They fled at the sight of her though she couldn't understand why. She followed where some of them went and it led her near a city by the shore. She tried to go through the city but the guards kept yelling and sticking spears in her so she went around it instead. Eventually she reached shore at long last. She walked along the beach after that, dragging along her rust crusted anchor until she eventually found a port town. There she hung around until she learned their language, the locals giving her reasonable distance given her appearance but otherwise simply assuming she's just another deep one.

Once she was able to understand people she used her great strength to help people, asking very little in exchange. Most of the armor she's now owner of are pieces from warriors she's felled in her travels. One night she came and scared off a group of bandits, rescuing a young man named Leomund. As thanks he offered to pay her back later on when he was a more renown mage. She accepted, offering in turn to keep him safe until then. She didn't have anything better to do so it seemed like a fair deal.

And such is the story of how Gangraena met Leomund. Also some other stuff.

Appearance:


Name: Vuldur

Race: Wolf Beastkin- Possesses the claws,ears and tail of a wolf

Magic/Abilities:
Vuldur worked under a shaman for his tribe who tutored him in various areas and is capable of using most of the magic in Aylama's domain, in addition to this he generally specializes in curses and fire magic and occasionally attempts to weave the two together. How successful this is varies so he generally avoids using the skill unless it's necessary.

Pyromancy
Vuldur is a potent pyromancer who is capable of summoning forth torrents of flames to obliterate enemies, over his time training as a shaman he has also began to learn to sculpt the flames as he desires which has no direct combat advantage but it would have helped with story-telling and religious rites. In addition to this Vuldur has experimented with setting his own body ablaze to augment his melee strength, much like his weaving of curses and flames success has varied and has several burns around his body to show it (mainly on his hands and arms)

Curses
While he is not as practiced in curse work as he is with pyromancy, Vuldur is still able to send forth curses with ease, anything from sapping the victims physical strength or causing blindness to giving a mischievous child an outbreak of boils to teach them a lesson.

Personality:
Despite being a trainee shaman in a tribe devoted to worshiping Aylama, Vuldur is often rather hot-headed at times which is a constant source of struggle for him even now, he attempts to remain calm and respectful as his God would expect but things still seem to slip out on occasion. Other than this he is a curious soul who enjoys experimenting with his magic to see if he can do anything new which is also paired with a thirst for power and knowledge, he his still very respectful towards Aylama but to more worldly authorities recent events have made him less than happy to obey them.

Background: Vuldur was born into a beastkin tribe in the north of the world where he was raised and had a rather average childhood until he began to show proficiency in magic, taking an early interest in pyromancy it was not uncommon to see him out by himself in the evening setting bushes alight and enjoying their warmth for himself. After it became apparent Vuldur would make an excellent shaman if he were trained properly, he was taken to the village's current shaman and made to learn under him. It wasn't a bad life per-say, but it was unbelievably dull for the youth, learning religious rites, the ancient history of the tribe , things he couldn't care less about but were necessary for his future.

After several years of training Vuldur was growing discontent with his life, the huts of the tribe and the snowy trees were so boring to him now, he wanted to leave. He discussed this with his tutor who was extremely disappointed but stated if Vuldur convinced the tribe leaders, he could leave. His discussion with the tribal leaders gradually turned into a heated argument ending with both sides on their feet shouting, eventually Vuldur left of his own accord out of frustration in the dead of night and wandered south, eventually finding his way to Zauberheim and using his significant magical ability to make somewhat of a name for himself through story telling and dealing with problems that may require his skills.

Name: Raviel "Rav" Husk

Race: Leopard Beastkin

Magic/Abilities:

Blessings:
Distinctly remembering one of the first things taught to him, his skill in casting blessings to himself and to his allies are great. It can span from the ability to breathe underwater to singular enhanced physical prowess, depending on which spell is needed to be cast for the time being. Though his blessings last for an entire battle, he is limited to giving blessings to those whom he could touch - and never more than three blessings at a time. Rav specializes in a different style of blessing.


Teleportation:
An intermediate teleportation mage, he already has the ability to teleport himself in very short distances though that is magically draining if used repeatedly without rest. For longer distances and for additional people, he has to chant the spells. The longer the distance and/or the more the people, the longer the spell he has to chant and the more magically draining it becomes.

Conjuration
Perhaps his most prominent and most focused on magic, conjuration is the field he specializes in. He already has an arsenal of weaponry, though he has trouble when creating any form of ranged weaponry. It seems that anything that needs 'ammunition' to be used is more magically draining so he doesn't prefer them unless he has to do it. The weaponry appears as a dark purple and misty object which only he can touch as it dissipates when someone else touches it.

Personality: Rav has a misleading appearance. There is often a misconception about him as he looks like the type of person who would wrestle everyone to submission. He seems rude and unapproachable if only because of his resting face that looks like he doesn't want to be disturbed. But do not let that perturbe you from talking to him, as once you do, he's actually a rather funny and helpful kind of guy who would smile at you once you start interacting with him. Though, Rav initiates conversations a lot himself as others seem to not prefer them going to him.

Rav is a passionate man. If he wanted to do something, he will do it without a doubt. Of course, he understands that there are limitations in what he can do, so he typically just leaves those be unless he can find some way to get around the rules. He can be a little bit too hotblooded when it comes to doing what he is passionate about. He's rather loud about it too - not that it is arrogant, but he's just really easily excited about things.

Background: Raviel was born into a beastkin tribe that rests in mountainous region near Zauberheim. They actually do not try to stay in the cities, but the members of the tribe occassionally do visit Zauberheim - to either exchange information about magic or to simply do something for the mages of Zauberheim who needs aid in travelling to collect things. Their tribe is closely linked with Zauberheim and its culture; hence why Raviel is so fascinated with them. Their tribe mostly specializes in buffing magic or blessings.

Raviel has always been fascinated with magic, branching out of what his tribe could do. He's always been thankful and fascinated with Aylama, their creator. While his kin seems to gear towards Amalya, he veered off. Spending more and more time with the mages of Zauberheim to learn more about magic, Raviel has become self-taught with most of his studies with only public libraries to study from. He began setting his eyes on the Royal Library, but he obviously couldn't get in unless he was of nobility or part of the actual student body of Seraph Academy. Knowing what he must do now, he decided that perhaps also studying in the most prestigious academy for magic Razelia had to offer might be good for him. Being part of the tribe who has helped Zauberheim and Razelia throughout the ages and also having great potential as a battlemage, Raviel was given access to study at Seraph Academy.

In the few years he studies at the Academy, there was nothing of note that had happened to him. He's always ever excelled in combat, which had to combine both physical and magical capabilities to win. Raviel manages to show off his own survival skills in these, having grown up with only a tribe and the wildnerness in your favor. What has been constantly noted is that he typically reinforces himself so that he can get up close and personal with his enemies - especially since every single one of them are mages.

Appearance:
Standing at just over five foot five with a relatively slight frame, she's a little physically underwhelming. Not that most people would ever really think twice about that after meeting her. She has dark skin indicative of her people, with long pointed ears and black hair with ruby red eyes. Often she can be seen wearing a brightly colored dress with various religious symbols of Aylama. Odd, for most dark Elves but she finds it helps her stand out more.

Name:
Seleth Thenri

Race:
Dark Elf

Magic/Abilities:
Illusions, Dark, and Reflection
In true Dark Elf fashion, Sel is most adept with Illusions, Dark type magics, and Reflection. Her specific brand of magics usually involve careful watching and counter attacks, or having her spells react to enemies after being set. Her main focuses are on Illusions and Dark spells, usually weaving Curses, some Teleportation, and Reflection magics into them for needed purposes.


Dark spells, being the antithesis to light magic, often has the user needed both foresight, planning, and a little luck to use it well. Placing traps on the ground, or a delayed attack are just some examples. Most of her attacks are more reactionary, designed to react and use an opponents movement or power against them, weaving reflecting spells and a few teleportation spells into her magic.




While some illusionists may focus entirely on visual hallucinations, a true artist in the craft will know that sight is just one of many senses the human body has. Sight, hearing, touch, even the minds perceived distance can be altered, though such a thing would require skill far beyond what she currently has. She focuses on more subtle approaches to her illusions, such as altering a persons sense of direction, making illusory clones of herself, and teleportation between her clones to make herself harder to pin down. She can detect and erase other illusions, should she have need too.



Reflection/Mimicry:
A school of magic she is just learning to study, so she's not incredibly skilled in it. Aside from a few combined uses with Dark magic, she rarely uses this school on its own except in a few specific cases.



Spear of Reflection:
The Spears name, and the symbol of the religious house Thenri. Passed down since ancient times, supposedly, until it made its way to Seleth. It was said that the spear once held divine properties thanks to the families devotion and adherence to Aylama's teachings, but alas a rumor is all that is. If there was some hint to it, the spear is simply that these days - a spear. She has of course, been trained to wield it.

Personality:
Calm and quiet, but over confident and egotistical. If there's one thing Sel has in droves, it's confidence and a firm believe that she's the absolute best. Like most Dark Elves, she's quiet and thoughtful, but was raised in a mildly spoiled manner making her believe that she's destined for greatness. This cold confidence can really put a lot of people off, since she hardly utters a sentence without praising how great she is or how much better she is then you are. Coldly confident, short and to the point, she's not one for small talk and can come off as harsh.

Sel is truly a good natured person. She holds herself and others to an extremely high standard. She loathes being anything less than she is, and if you want to be her friend you best damn well make sure you're going to follow. People who don't give it their all...well, they should just sit back and let the big girls handle the problems and hide in the shadows like a scared kitten. A quiet love of bombast and flair, she can be a little needlessly showy at times, and puts her illusions to use showing that.

Despite her bluntness, harsh nature, and a ego the size of Zauberheim itself, she's never been outside the walls of her home or the Cathedral she grew up in. She is trying to be far more approachable and less of an egotistical jerk than she once was due to finally seeing the outside world and being put through the wringer once or twice while in the Academy, but that's something she's not used to, as anyone who went to the school could attest too.

The only thing that trumps both her own sense of self importance, is the Goddess Aylama. She is wholly devoted to the Dark Goddess, and always strives to do well as she teaches. She spends a lot of her free time at churches/cathedrals dedicated to her, and will always be ready to convert some new followers, or just talk about Aylama or Amalya in general (But mostly Aylama).

Background:
Born and raised in the Dark Elf Homeland of Meylia, Seleth's life has been an easy one. Born into a family of priests, scholars, and theologians to the Goddess Aylama, Seleth was introduced to religion at an early age. Some might grow up resenting this later, but Seleth was quite the opposite. She almost immediately fell in love with both religion and the teachings of the Goddess. Mix theology and the noble, wealthy and slightly spoiled upbringing, and you get her.

Immediately she trained herself in traditional Dark Elven arts of Dark and Illusory magic at the earliest age that she could. For a time, she simply learned small time from the rest of her family and relatives - who hailed her as a savant in the fields, saying there was only one thing to do here. Send her to Zauberheim, and Seraph academy so she could further her studies. After all, it was the most prestigious school that existed, and it would be a wonderful place to start her higher education and become more familiar with the intricacies of her magic. So as a parting gift, she was given the families treasured spear and headed off to Seraph academy where she began her studies.

To say she had a bit of a culture shock, was an understatement. Having never been outside her home before, suddenly spending so much time with others was well, what could only be considered a good thing for her. It wasn't easy - in fact, compared to some of the other students, her skill was terrible. It was in one word - frustrating. She made more than a few enemies and made more than a few mistakes her first year or two there, especially among the other students simply because of how she perceived herself. Always trying to be the best, telling others that they weren't as good as she was. She made a few 'friends' too though, but only because they had the patience to put up with her and tell her when she was being completely overbearing. She was basically that smug noble in class who always thought they were the best and always deserved something they didn't.

By the end of the final year, and on the eve of the tournament, it occurred to Seleth that perhaps...it wasn't everyone else that was wrong or weak, it was her. All of her so called friends had ditched her, finally getting tired of her bullshit and she definitely didn't consider herself ready to win this tournament. For the first time in her life, she felt lost.

Some might have hunkered down in their beliefs. Some might have stalwartly opposed changing their ways, but for a follower of the Dark Goddess, it should be different. It took her some time to realize it - but perhaps...she should self reflect. Aylama wouldn't be happy with her right now, would she? So for a few days before the tournament, she disappeared and simply meditated before coming to a conclusion.

Well...maybe she could try being more...humble? Was that the word?

Name: Leomund Anglehook.

Appearance:

For a young man he's not terrible looking if a little plain. He's got straight chestnut brown hair that comes down just a little bit above his neck and stormy dark grey eyes. He stands at just a little bit under six feet tall weighing a modest one hundred and sixty four pounds. With skin that's seen it's fair share of sun his frame is quite skinny and his physique is nothing to be impressed with. He's got some muscle but it hardly shows and he's not that particularly strong either.

His standard apparel is largely that of the average fisherman: Light brown pants cut off just above the knees and a white shirt with short sleeves. He has big leather boots that are a size larger than his feet since that was all he could afford. On sunny days he'll wear a wide straw hat for shade. To carry stuff he typically carries around a large brown sack which he either carries by it's draw string or hangs it from a walking stick.

In combat he wears an iron kettle helmet and a hardened leather vest with three bands of iron on each shoulder. He wears leather bracers with bands of iron riveted on in a vertical arrangement. He wears greaves which are largely just brown boots with a plate of iron both on top of the foot and along the front of the shin. Over his pants he wears a skirt of iron bands hanging from a belt by iron rings. Under his chest armor he wears a white cotton gambison to pad against impact and keep the edges of the armor from digging into his skin. He wears brown leather gloves to protect his hands from the splinters on his weapon's handle. His weapon is a Goedendag, a large two handed club with spikes run through it, the longest spike at the very top which allows it to serve as both a spear and a spiked club.

Race: Human.

Magic/Abilities:

His range of spells is fairly small and not the strongest by far. There are three basic fields he has shown more aptitude in than others.

Blessings
Among the various fields he's dabbled in during his schooling one that seems to come easier than others is the ability to strengthening one's physical capabilities and other forms of aid. He can imbue himself and others with greater strength, fleeter movement and enhanced durability. He can only grant someone as many as two of these boons at once, never more. These blessings last for as long as he wants them to, the spell only ending with a conscious thought to cancel them. For every person gifted with one of his blessings the total potency of the blessings is divided by the total number of people in possession of such blessing. This is due to the active nature of the spell, taking away from his magic in a constant stream which forks with each additional individual selected. While this connection is not limited by distance magics that distrupt the flow will prematurely end the blessing.

Wards
A magic which offers protection both to individuals and over designated areas against a wide variety of foes and magics alike. These spells form an invisible bubble either around a person or a select area, hedging out a single subject of the caster's choosing. Most wards only have one designated subject to bar from trespass, allowing everything else to pass through freely. Certain things are more difficult to ward against than others simply for the practical reason that just as the subject cannot enter a ward the owner of said ward also cannot approach the subject. For example if the caster were to ward against dirt or stone they might find it hard to walk as the ward thusly prevents them from reaching the ground. Things that are already inside a ward at the time of casting are free to exit the ward just fine but if they are the subject of the ward they will be barred from re-entry afterwards. Wards aren't even a perfect defense against their subject either. The strength of a ward's protection is based on the strength of the spell which is largely decided by the caster and what they are capable of casting.

Healing
Exactly what it says on the tin. He's not super at it but it'll suffice.

Apart from these three arts he's only really got one direct offense spell that he's able to use effectively in the middle of a fight.

Mine
This spell deploys a small mote of white light which can detonate in a small explosion of pure force. The strength of the spell isn't very strong, the actual force of the explosion comparable to the hind kick of a large horse. The radius of the explosion is roughly five feet or so, only detonating when an enemy is within a couple feet of the mote of light itself. The mine can either be left to stay where it's created or it can be set to repeatedly travel upon a designated path, floating gently along in a steady patrol until an enemy triggers it. It cannot travel through solid objects. It can only be triggered by those the caster has designated as foes so if anyone else walks into one it will not explode or cause any other form of harm.

Personality:

Calm, simple and rational. He's a fairly closed in type, not the most outgoing short. Some might even describe him as a bit shy. He doesn't like talking about himself much. His ambitions aren't particularly grandiose. He just wants to graduate so he can help those close to him. Seeing as it's a fair honor to receive an invitation to study at such a prestigious academy it would be a disservice to his family not to accept. The money and position in society offered by such a scholarship would benefit his father and it gives him an opportunity to learn more about the world in general. He's a curious one, quite fascinated by things that would normally frighten normal folk.

Perhaps that might be because he's fairly nervous around pretty much everything to begin with. He's not a bold soul, his shyness not helping that matter. Despite this he'll go above and beyond to do right to those he owes it to. He almost never breaks a promise and holds strongly to his word. In fact a majority of his study is centered around helping out the friend he made. Outside of that he studies but as mentioned before he has little to no ambition of his own. Power is of little interest as he has few things he'd use it for and riches would only make life harder to manage so he purposefully avoids accumulating wealth to himself. Fame has little draw for him as he's nervous around company, especially crowds. Really once he's met his needs and fulfilled his obligations left to his own devices he'd largely just read up on various curiosities largely as a hobby.

He's learned to fight not out of any desire to actually see combat but rather so he can handle himself should he be separated from his friends and left to fend for himself. His natural aptitudes leave him paltry as a war magus, hardly capable of laying any degree of men to waste with any of his magic alone. He makes due with using his magic to boost his ability to fight and using brute force to fight off others. Given the chance he'd much rather let others do the fighting and simply support them with his magic but sadly that's not always an option.

Background:

Leomund is little more than a simple fisherman's son from a quaint fishing village off the shore of a great sea by the mainland. His mother died giving birth to him so for the most part it's just been him and his father. The two of them fished for a living, paying their taxes and keeping what was left for food. On good months they'd have some left over to sell in the markets. The money helped smooth over some of the poorer hauls they had so in the end it was all balanced out.

Of course his father wanted a good life for his son so naturally as a sort of plea to the fortunes he put forward an application for his son to join Seraph Academy. While ordinarily a fisherman's son would have little to no chance in joining a school like theirs luck just so happened to be in their favor. While going over application letters his application was mistakenly placed in the accepted pile which was then taken and issued congratulatory letters for their acceptance into their school. When the news got back his father celebrated.

While this was a chance for them to make it big and strike out of the humble lifestyle of simple fishermen this ultimately meant that Leomund had a long road to walk ahead of him, both figuratively and literally. Renting out the only spellbook the village held from the village elder his father had him study hard to learn a cursory amount of magic, just enough to fake an understanding of magic that would hopefully be enough to get him by at the start. Soon enough the school year would begin so to get him in on time they set him up with a pack of his belongings and set him out to go and make a future for himself in the big city.

So he set forth.

And not long after he left the village after many hours of walking night fell. With night came a band of vicious bandits, armed men who waylaid his campsite and tied him up while they looted him of all his possessions. Just as they were finished robbing him they were going to leave him for dead when from the inky depths of the darkened woods a menacing figure trudged forth. Stepping into the light of the campfire the tall and intimidating figure of a dark armored foe was revealed. She towered over each and every one of them, a veritable statue of metal, and clutched in her grip was a massive ship's anchor. It might of been rusted all across but the great bend of iron was more than thick enough to hold strong ever still. With each resounding step the chains which bound the loop of the anchor to her left arm rattled, giving off this aura of dread which filled the hearts of all who faced her. Peering down at the quivering mortals beneath her the glowing yellow eyes from the yawning darkness that was the inside of the helmet cast their dread-filling light upon the terrified rogues.

She needed not deliver a single blow as they scattered before she could even face them down. Little did they know that she had no clue what was even going on. She just wanted to say hi. Luckily for Leomund her approach was all that was needed to drive his captors off, leaving him now free albeit still bereft of all possessions with the exception of his acceptance letter which he cleverly hid in the dirt when the bandits weren't observing him.

Despite her imposing apparel Leomund found himself more thankful to this strange ominous savior of his rather than intimidated like all the others. When she spoke it was quite clear she meant him no harm. She was a wandering mercenary who traveled the land taking money in exchange for use of her unnatural strength to crush foes with the ship anchor she wielded. He asked her what the price for her service was. She just shrugged. She had no real acumen for coin so she would just accept whatever sounded good for the job. With this in mind he basically offered her the job of guarding him and in exchange when he finally made it big as a caster of some sort he'd pay for all her expenses. She agreed to it because it sounded like a good trade and he was nice about it.

And so the two of them set forward to Zauberheim. Along the way he learned that she was in fact a drowned sailor who's spent a very long time walking the ocean floor before she finally found land. Neither of them are sure how long but it was probably pretty long given how much rust her anchor had gathered. She was a strange sort with a few marbles missing for sure but given how she stepped in and helped him when he was staring at a very immediate death he's able to overlook such eccentricities.

Such is the story of how Leomund got to school. The rest, as they say, is a tale for another time. Maybe soon. Probably.

Name: Gangraena the Abyss Treader.

Appearance:

Truly a figure which most would dread to see coming at them. She stands at an even six foot tall and weighs a solid one hundred and ninety pounds though most wouldn't be able to tell since she looks like she weighs half that. Most would assume a warrior such as herself would have sizeable muscles but her body looks soft and feminine. This is due to the fact that the mesh of writhing tendrils lurking beneath her flesh grant her a great deal more strength than she aught to have. If one were to look closely at her exposed flesh they could see shallow movements beneath the skin, like eels beneath opaque water.

Her skin is a blue tinged grey like that of a drowned corpse. Her body might be a bit less bloated than the average floater but she looks no less drowned. Her hair is a murky dark green, not unlike kelp. Her hair is straight albeit messy more often than not and cut just above her neckline. Her face while bearing some of the characteristic slender femininity of the light elves is a bit rounder, a softer jawline with cheeks that are more full with a lower cheekbone that eccentuates the eyes which... Well, require some explanation.

The sockets which once housed eyes are empty now. More than that the eyelids themselves are missing as well, leaving the eye sockets open up to the edges of the skull, leaving only the eyebrows. Inside the hollow apertures her eyes once occupied is a deep darkness, an abyss so black staring deeply into them can leave one's grip on sanity loosened. As though swimming in the shores of the fathomless darkness which appears to stretch on for eternity are two spheres of winding light in an unearthly yellow hue, one mote for each socket.

Her armor is no less imposing than herself despite it's piecemeal collection of parts. Her helmet is a large dark iron greathelm, concealing all but the intangible clots of yellow light that serve as her eyes which shine through the narrow eye slots. Her body armor was actually taken from a knight of a tribe of turtlemen, a massive breastplate far too heavy for any normal man or elf to use. It's plates are half an inch thick and are designed to fit onto a curved shell but Gangraena wears it anyway since she can move it about despite it's bulk. For shoulder protection she wears a large set of dark iron pauldrons. On her arms she wears dark iron gauntlets and vambraces. Her legs are protected with a set of gilded but scratched iron greaves complete with once elaborate cuisses that look like whatever designs they were embossed with has been smashed into a spangle of loose metal atop the plates. Her weapon is a large ship anchor which has been covered with more than few centuries worth of rust, wielded by the loop it's tied by. It's attached to a chain which is wrapped several times around her left arm which is her dominant arm.

Race: Light Elf.

Magic/Abilities:

Having been restored by some ancient entity at the bottom of the ocean's deepest chasms she possesses unusual alterations to her body which have changed her greatly. The dark graft which keeps her alive also grants her an unnatural level of strength as well as nearly endless stamina. As a result of this unearthly change her ability to use any form of magic is completely forfeit. Even despite her heritages natural inclination she's never had any talent in casting anyhow.

Perhaps the strangest thing about this are the dark creatures which confer these gifts. Her body is filled with a tightly pact network of tiny ichorous tendrils which grasp one another, forming a network capable of exerting such force. They communicate each other through the dark magic they've been fused with. There is no part of her that ceases to move regardless of how badly she's torn apart. Even in the case of decapitation her body will continue to move as if still connected to her head, albeit a bit more awkwardly given the disconnect between her head's position and her body's. Thanks to the tendrils breathing is no longer required and they are sustained by the dark magic, sustaining her in turn. Her tolerance for pain much like her stamina is no less plentiful and despite completely lacking eyes the dark magic confers a special sight which allows her to see as any normal person of her former species would.

These symbiotes have some other curious properties that it confers upon it's host. Due to the nature of the tendrils within a large variety of curses will have no effect on her other than the vague excitement of the squirming masses inside her flesh.

Lastly as a result of an ancient pact between her dark benefactor and the oceans themselves the water will never bring her damage or decay. While variety of aquatic beastmen can decide for themselves at large many of the true beasts of the deep will ignore her.

Personality:

Despite being a creature close to all would consider wholly unnatural she's pretty chipper about it all. She's a bright and sunny soul who just so happens to be a barnacle-ridden mess of dark magic who has spent several thousand years trudging the deepest reaches of the ocean in search of land. While many a mind would shatter in the fathomless length of time spent wandering in pitch black waters she seems to have come away from it rather well. Perhaps maybe that alone is it's own form of insanity.

Even in life she was never the sharpest tool in the shed. She's extremely trusting and often a poor judge of character. Though she might be quite naive her experience in combat during her time ashore clearly shows. She understands violence quite well and quickly resorts to such methods in the face of most obstacles. She's nearly impossible to threaten and negative emotions run past her with plenty of haste as she flits back to a positive frame of mind quite easily.

As a bit of a side effect from the whole process her knowledge of her own past is spotty at best. Bits and pieces are left floating in a gulph of darkness and not just the stretch of time occupying her memory where nothing but walking occured and darkness was all she could see. Oftentimes she can be rather addle-minded, forgetful and quite easily confused as well. She means well though and generally holds little ill-will towards most folks. Her aims are simply enough to go from day to day, surviving and spending time with good friends when she can. Quite frankly anything is better than wandering the depths of the ocean so she's quite easy to please.

Background:

A long time ago in a large port city run by the light elves were a family of sailors. When she was of age she'd join her father on his voyages, traveling the waters aboard their seaworthy vessel. One night however the weather was particularly stormy and the ship was overturned. Most of the sailors aboard the ship drowned that night but Gangraena's fate was chosen by a different force. As she begun to drown shadowy forces dragged her below, pulling her body well into the depths. Even as she lost consciousness her form drifted inbetween the great oceanic crags and into the great tear in the earth's face below the waves.

So deep below she was pulled. She was dragged into depths which in ordinary circumstances would hold pressures too great for the soft bodies of most surface dwellers. This was no ordinary circumstance however, dark magic protecting her from the dangers of the deep until she was brought into a long forgotten temple which had sunk into the ocean ages ago. This mysterious entity took her into it's flooded halls and set her upon it's unearthly altar. Though drowned she was not wholly dead before it began the process.

When she awoke everything was dark. There was only water in her lungs and there was no light to see by. Without anything to go by she started to float about without direction. As she left the temple she was starting to float away so she grasped around herself for something to hold onto. She managed to grab hold of the anchor which had fallen off her ship which was destroyed in the storm. With the anchor weighing her down she was able to set her feet on the ground and begin her long trek, dragging the anchor along behind her like it was some old oar.

_
From then on she simply walked. She had no direction to follow so she'd simply walk until she ran into something and then try to walk around that. This continued for thousands upon thousands of years. Though long as such a trek might be it could of been shorter but she had a terrible sense of direction and often wound up walking in circles for many years at a time. Sometimes she would fall into pits that could swallow mountains and occasionally she'd run into mountains that make those of the surface world seem pitifully small by comparison. Being a realm vastly larger than the surface land it's features often dwarfed those that appeared above.

For a time so long it beggars the imagination she simply wandered the depths, anchor in hand. Eventually she stumbled into a village of deep ones. They fled at the sight of her though she couldn't understand why. She followed where some of them went and it led her near a city by the shore. She tried to go through the city but the guards kept yelling and sticking spears in her so she went around it instead. Eventually she reached shore at long last. She walked along the beach after that, dragging along her rust crusted anchor until she eventually found a port town. There she hung around until she learned their language, the locals giving her reasonable distance given her appearance but otherwise simply assuming she's just another deep one.

Once she was able to understand people she used her great strength to help people, asking very little in exchange. Most of the armor she's now owner of are pieces from warriors she's felled in her travels. One night she came and scared off a group of bandits, rescuing a young man named Leomund. As thanks he offered to pay her back later on when he was a more renown mage. She accepted, offering in turn to keep him safe until then. She didn't have anything better to do so it seemed like a fair deal.

And such is the story of how Gangraena met Leomund. Also some other stuff.

Name: Kazudain: The Lightning Arch-mage / Blitz Warrior / Beast Tamer / the Blue Pilgrim

Maldur: The Beast of Ice / Frost Guardian

"There was no reason for you to do that my friend." The man received a snort in response. He crossed his arms.

"Yes, yes, I know you don't like others reaching for your food but that back there? Your little shout made the Innkeeper faint from shock. You have a problem." With a small growl and shake of its head the mans companion continued walking. The man made to follow but found his foot wouldn't move. He looked down to find his foot frozen in a small block of ice, sticking it to the ground. Looking back at his partner he found the amused twinkle in its eyes that annoyed him so.

"Very funny. Maldur. Now release my leg so we can really get a move on, I'd rather get to the next town before nightfall. We do have a schedule to keep." Maldur gave a huff as the ice disappeared, the pair breaking into a run to reach the next town.

=========That Night=========

"...and so Balderus jumps out from the doorway, tackling the leader! That took out the weakened support beam which made the roof cave in, taking half of our enemies out of the fight. So, seeing the cards of fate stacked against them the rest of the group were about to run when the reinforcements Balderus called for arrived, surrounding the bandits. At that they all threw their arms to the ground, ending the battle. With that the underground slaver ring was torn out of Sikaarus for good and Balderus regained the honor of his family name." With the clank of mugs the people of the tavern cheered at the end of the story. Chanting the Balderus for a time as the story teller looked at his companion.

Like he expected of Maldur, his companion was laying on his side, head still in the lap of a barmaid who saw fit to give his ears and chin a good scratch. With a shake of his head the man turned back to his drink and food, relishing the cider as he took a gulp from his mug.

"Ha ha, always good to here one of your stories Master Kazudain." Looking up said man saw the bar owner approaching, tail waving behind him.

"It's been what? 10, 12 years since you last visited? Mara kept wondering when you would be back." The bar owner gestured to the girl petting Maldur, who now laid on his back with the barmaid, Mara, rubbing Maldur's belly. The big softy. Kazudain chuckled as he put the mug down.

"I know Cadra, but as I've told your father and his father, I can never stay in one pl-"

"Place for too long. I know, I've heard it enough times over the years when you were passing through. Even if you never do tell us why." With a shake of his scaled head Cadra grabbed the travelers empty mug and refilled it. "So, what business do you have 'round these parts this time?"

"We're heading north towards Zauberheim. I heard it was time of year for their annual tournament." Cadra gave a steady nod while giving the refilled mug back. Kazudain accepted it readily.

"Right the Festival Tournament. There's always something a little different every year, this year will be no different. I hear a number of promising students will be taking part this year." A chuckle rose from Kazudain.

"There are always promising students every year, Cadra. This year will be no different then the last 10 in that regard." Cadra chuckled himself.

"You speak truth, Master Kazudain. But from what I hear this year will be something to remember compared to previous years." With a raised brow Kazudain leaned in as Cadra did the same.

"I'm listening..."