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[CHAR] Isle of Atria (Open World, Always Open)
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Arlo of Moonfall
Species: Human
Gender: Male
Age: Approximately 22
Height: 6’1’’
Weight: 159lbs
Birthplace: Unknown
Current Location: Wanderneir
Physical Description: Arlo is an average looking young man with fair skin and long jet black hair. His eyes are a stunning bright silver color that hint at an otherworldly wisdom beneath their surface. Much to his dismay he is seemingly incapable of growing much facial or body hair, as a consequence his skin is as soft as an infant. However he does carry a number of large and small scars on his body, most of them accidentally self inflicted through his training in Leverethan magic. Most notably is a large fractal lightning-like scar running down his back and around his left side.
Mental Description: Knowledge and curiosity are the driving force in Arlo’s motivation. More than anything he seeks to expand his understanding of the world around him and excel in the use of different varieties of magic. Raised by the reclusive enigmatic hare people, Leveret, he possesses a unique understanding of their origin and culture that no other human can boast. He did not inherit their natural wariness however, as he often throws caution to the wind in pursuit of his goals, however he is confident in his ability to get out of any situation safely.
Story: Arlo was found as a baby by a Leveret couple walking together outside the magic border of Moonfall. Leverets didn’t trust humankind, but knowing their young are defenseless until years after birth they decided to take him into their city in secret. There Arlo grew up as a Leveret boy, only leaving the home of his adopted parents while under a disguise spell that gave him the ears of a hare. Humans lacked the innate magical talent Leverets were born with but with time his mother taught him everything she knew and encouraged that he take his skill even further. His father, a former thief, trained him to be almost as agile as the Leverets, but twice as sneaky. Arlo’s parents wanted him to live a safe peaceful life among their people, but he was adventurous and inquisitive and his thirst for knowledge and magical ability eventually lead him to the decision of leaving Moonfall for new horizons.
GM
Cider
Personal Information
Species: Slime Person
Gender: ♂
Age: 6 Months (Mature)
Height*: ~5'6''
Weight*: ~89lb
*these measurements prove rather useless, as they fluctuate frequently
Birthplace: Unknown
Current Location: Somewhere within Wanderneir Capital
Physical Description: Cider is a sentient mass of a thick gelatinous lavender substance known affectionately as slime. He has no traditional organs but rather his entire body is one big all-purpose organ. His liquid body can take on any shape and he can control the viscosity of his own slime from a pastey puddle of goo to as near solid as plant resin, and while he has visible facial features they serve no purpose other than fitting in with his humanoid peers. The surface of his body can be described as cool, moist and sticky but not dripping wet as one would think.
Mental Description: Cider and his entire race are very simple minded creatures who are so laid back that they find it difficult to find motivation beyond basic carnal instincts. For Cider, instincts lead him to warmth, food, procreation, and, in a rare case for his kind, discovery. He is a very curious being that seeks to travel the world and learn about other cultures of people, however he struggles to understand anything fully. His language is very simple, and he doesn't understand things like metaphors and figures of speech; and because the capacity for new information is directly correlated to the total mass of his body, there is only so much he can learn.
Name: Alexander Galus. "The Knight of Thorns"
Species: Human?
Gender: Male
Age: Unknown.
Birthplace: A kingdom that no longer exists within the current age.
Current Location: Wandering the world, in proximity to Wanderneir.
Physical Description: Alexander stands at approximately six feet and three inches tall. Most of the human features that he might've possessed have worn away, but he appears distinctly human. His eyes are merely glowing orbs, and his voice sounds slightly unnatural. There is no flesh revealed by Alexander's armor, and indeed Alexander seems to never remove it either. What lies beneath is entirely an enigma. However, Alexander does not tire, he does not eat, drink, or sleep. Thus, despite his human appearance, Alexander is something else.
Mental Description: Alexander acts as enigmatic as he looks. What he seeks is often a mystery, but it is known that Alexander seeks to purge the world of monsters and other beings which do not belong.
Other: Alexander is in possession of a horse that appears just as inhuman as he does. This horse does not tire, does not sleep, nor does it eat or drink. Interestingly, this horse is just as enigmatic as Alexander is. It appears and vanishes just as often as Alexander does. Alexander might ride into town on his horse, dismount and bring it to the stable, only for the horse to vanish into thin air the moment he leaves. Only for the horse to then be present at the stable once more when Alexander returns. Interestingly, this horse can also ride up and down surfaces that appear impossible, such as vertical walls and across water. This horse is also much more precise and agile than most other horses, and can leap great distances with ease. Alexander calls this horse Grigori.
Background Information: Alexander hails from a kingdom lost to time. He was merely a mercenary serving the kingdom, nothing more. He was tasked with dealing with a wizard who threatened the kingdom, and set out on his journey. Upon finding the wizard, battle commenced, and Alexander lost merely moments after. This wizard cursed Alexander into a realm between life and death. There, Alexander stayed for over three hundred years, fighting against lost souls and other monsters that were also cursed into this realm. This went on endlessly until one day Alexander found a lone horse wandering the plains. His body ravaged by countless battles, Alexander approached the horse. It did not attack, nor transform into some beast. Alexander climbed onto the horse, and found himself being whisked rapidly towards seemingly nothing. The surrounding environments became a blur, until suddenly the horse stopped as easily as if it had been walking slowly. Alexander dismounted shakily, and stared in awe at the horse for a moment before he turned to look at his surroundings. They stood within the armory of a castle, and before him lay a two tables. One of which held the armor he is now known for, the other held the armor that is seen adorning his horse.
As he dressed, Alexander felt things slipping away. Fear, regret, hunger, exhaustion. When he was fully dressed in the armor, Alexander felt nothing. Try as he might, Alexander could not remove the armor. His humanity and human limitations slipped away from him, no longer was he bound to flesh and blood. Alexander felt a calmness slip into his mind, like someone pouring cool water into his head. Alexander armored the horse with the remaining set of armor, and mounted once again. Alexander had been chosen. The realm that Alexander had been cursed to was beginning to expel monsters, and Alexander had been the only one able to survive against them. Alexander's horse enabled him to finally leave this dimension, and the armor he now wore would give him the strength to stand up against the monsters invading Kurata. His shield could block their magic, and his sword could banish them no matter how incorporeal they may be.
Mounting his horse once more, Alexander rode forward once more, and into Kurata for the first time in years.
Species: Human?
Gender: Male
Age: Unknown.
Birthplace: A kingdom that no longer exists within the current age.
Current Location: Wandering the world, in proximity to Wanderneir.
Physical Description: Alexander stands at approximately six feet and three inches tall. Most of the human features that he might've possessed have worn away, but he appears distinctly human. His eyes are merely glowing orbs, and his voice sounds slightly unnatural. There is no flesh revealed by Alexander's armor, and indeed Alexander seems to never remove it either. What lies beneath is entirely an enigma. However, Alexander does not tire, he does not eat, drink, or sleep. Thus, despite his human appearance, Alexander is something else.
Mental Description: Alexander acts as enigmatic as he looks. What he seeks is often a mystery, but it is known that Alexander seeks to purge the world of monsters and other beings which do not belong.
Other: Alexander is in possession of a horse that appears just as inhuman as he does. This horse does not tire, does not sleep, nor does it eat or drink. Interestingly, this horse is just as enigmatic as Alexander is. It appears and vanishes just as often as Alexander does. Alexander might ride into town on his horse, dismount and bring it to the stable, only for the horse to vanish into thin air the moment he leaves. Only for the horse to then be present at the stable once more when Alexander returns. Interestingly, this horse can also ride up and down surfaces that appear impossible, such as vertical walls and across water. This horse is also much more precise and agile than most other horses, and can leap great distances with ease. Alexander calls this horse Grigori.
Background Information: Alexander hails from a kingdom lost to time. He was merely a mercenary serving the kingdom, nothing more. He was tasked with dealing with a wizard who threatened the kingdom, and set out on his journey. Upon finding the wizard, battle commenced, and Alexander lost merely moments after. This wizard cursed Alexander into a realm between life and death. There, Alexander stayed for over three hundred years, fighting against lost souls and other monsters that were also cursed into this realm. This went on endlessly until one day Alexander found a lone horse wandering the plains. His body ravaged by countless battles, Alexander approached the horse. It did not attack, nor transform into some beast. Alexander climbed onto the horse, and found himself being whisked rapidly towards seemingly nothing. The surrounding environments became a blur, until suddenly the horse stopped as easily as if it had been walking slowly. Alexander dismounted shakily, and stared in awe at the horse for a moment before he turned to look at his surroundings. They stood within the armory of a castle, and before him lay a two tables. One of which held the armor he is now known for, the other held the armor that is seen adorning his horse.
As he dressed, Alexander felt things slipping away. Fear, regret, hunger, exhaustion. When he was fully dressed in the armor, Alexander felt nothing. Try as he might, Alexander could not remove the armor. His humanity and human limitations slipped away from him, no longer was he bound to flesh and blood. Alexander felt a calmness slip into his mind, like someone pouring cool water into his head. Alexander armored the horse with the remaining set of armor, and mounted once again. Alexander had been chosen. The realm that Alexander had been cursed to was beginning to expel monsters, and Alexander had been the only one able to survive against them. Alexander's horse enabled him to finally leave this dimension, and the armor he now wore would give him the strength to stand up against the monsters invading Kurata. His shield could block their magic, and his sword could banish them no matter how incorporeal they may be.
Mounting his horse once more, Alexander rode forward once more, and into Kurata for the first time in years.
Morrigan Wren Asherah
”It doesn’t matter what you are, it only matters what you do. It’s your choice.”
◊ ◊ ◊ ◊ ◊
Age: 67 (approx. 21 in human years)
Gender: Female
Species: Lythari Elf (a messy splatter of black ink covers the rest of what was written)
◊ ◊ ◊ ◊ ◊
Birthplace: Outside the walls of Wanderneir
Current Location: Meandering through Wanderneir taverns
Personality
Morrigan is generally gentle but firm with others. She has her own will and stands on her own. She hates and cannot accept help from others, which plays along with her senses of insecurity. Morrigan is intrigued by storytellers and loves to laugh. This is the side of her many people, especially those local to Wanderneir. Morrigan is plagued with a dark history and evil magic. She has a bad temper and will not back down in fights. She’s good at getting the information she wants quickly and quietly. Morrigan may act like she does not care, but deeply she has a big heart (one that gets her into a lot of trouble). She is always curious to learn more of her existence, and the magic she possesses.
Melancholic temperament.
Melancholic temperament.
↠Talents: She has very powerful magic, much of it she has yet to learn to control (another blot of ink covers a few sentences). Morrigan
has a knack for manipulating people to get the things she needs without raising suspicion. She’s really good with animals, they are usually calm around her and trust her presence. She knows various languages.
↠Flaws: She has little to no knowledge on medicine and has learned no healing spells. Morrigan tends to give in to innocent beings in
danger-she's too willing to put herself in danger. Many old memories and flashbacks stop her cold in fights (can last a few seconds to a few minutes). Morrigan has yet to learn to control her magic. Hard for Morrigan to form reliable friendships and keep them. She tends to isolate herself once injured and tries to fix it on her own.
↠Habits: Tapping her feet or fingers impatiently or when she is stressed. Morrigan overthinks situations and becomes easily worried.
Traces her face tattoo's when lying (or when nervous, you can usually tell by the facial expression). Morrigan carries a small leather journal with her everywhere, she fiddles with it when she senses danger (or herself close to being caught).
Backstory
This end of the paper was burned off, leaving no words left to decipher Morrigan's history. It remains a secret to be revealed...
◊ ◊ ◊ ◊ ◊
Other
Her facial tattoos are a few shades darker than her current skin tone. I'll add a reference picture to what they look like. Her left ear has been cut down an inch or so- happened in an accident a few decades ago.
Grave Lord Mortan, The Mad Wizard
Height: 5'9"
Weight: 180 lbs
Age: Exact age unknown - probably in the low hundreds
Race/Species: Lich - Formerly human
Birth Place Unknown
Appearance:
Personality: Mortan is a scientist of necromantic magic, He is nearly always in his workshop trying to craft better undead creatures, obsessed with making his pets deadlier or indomitable. Alternatively he is in his library researching ancient text to hone his abilities. His lust for power is indeed more of an acedemic one, he desires nothing more than to push his 'necromantic science' to the limit. He is cold and calculating, a far cry from the power mad arch villains who perpetuate cruelty for cruelties sake. Mortan is not above truly abhorrent methods to reach his goals, as he did artificially extend his own 'life' through necromancy.
History:
Very little is known of Mortan's history, Legends abound however. The rumors speak of an ancient court wizard and consult to the king during the Great War, however his name has been lost to history, he was driven mad by the horrors of war and the corruption of black magic. It is believed that in desperation the Wizard turned to the dark arts to save the kingdom of Wanderneir and to sweep aside the elves and dwarves to allow human kind to reign supreme.
The legends say that his dark arts and inhuman experiments had driven him truly insane, he had decided in order to win the war he must become immortal and lay waste to the world. Using an unholy ritual the city of Wanderneir was left lifeless, it is said that not even a blade of grass or a single rat lived. The wizard disappeared in the cataclysm that befell Wanderneir and has not been seen since.
In recent years however new rumors have arisen, deep in the swamps of Wanderneir there is said to be a long forgotten fortress sunken into the murk of the swamp where rotten zombies and blood thirsty ghouls can be found and will take villagers to be made into twisted abominations.
The trouble with townsfolk rumors however is that they are seldom reliable...
It is also believed that the mad wizard haunts a ruined elven sanctuary drawing strength from a powerful artifact hidden by the elves in ages past preparing to engulf the world in an age of darkness and misery to surpass the great war.
Others even say that the Mad Wizard still lurks in Wanderneir besetting the very shadows against the living paving the way for a dark god to smother the world in shadow.
Species: Dwarf
Gender: Male
Age: 78
Birthplace: Karak Hold
Current Location: Wanderneir
Physical Description:
Darius is fairly normal for his race, standing at just over 4ft tall but broad and muscular. However he is remarkable due to one bright and intelligent eye that is contrasted by one that is clouded and blind. He carries a heavy sledge covered in Dwarven runes and is clad in light armor. While fairly muscular he does not have the bearing of a soldier but rather a skilled artisan. This is made apparent by the Dwarven Defender golem and the small team (5) of Hextech (Magitech) servants that follow him around, beond which he carries bandoliers filled with grenades and alchemical vials.
The Defender Golem is somewhat large, standing at about 6ft and somewhat broader than a man it is intimidating to all but the bulkiest of the human race. The Servants however are only about 3 ft tall and essentially useless in battle due to their fairly light frames and lack of armor. they are quite useful in their role of worker drone to do the unskilled work for a craftsman.
Golem names are designated by a piece of metal the size of a coin inlaid into their head.
Servants:
Iron
Tin
Copper
lead
Silver
Defender:
DarkSteel (often Fat Bastard)
Mental Description:
Darius is not a young dwarf any longer and thinks as such. He knows that he is a well skilled Hexsmith and will happily argue with any other artisan in ways only a dwarf craftsman can. Some believe an old dwarf is set in their ways and are immovable as the mountains the hail from, and those people would often be right, but Darius is sharp and does not cling to traditions like many of his clansmen. He is as grumpy and and prone to grumbling as any other dwarf.
Background Information (Optional):
Darius was born and raised in Karak Hold trained as a Hexsmith and dabbling in Alchemy. His clan, the Warsmiths, was one of the few dwarven clans who could still make the mighty war golems of the great war Darius learned to manufacture the magically enchanted machines whiole living in fear another great war would arise. The most deadly and terrible war machines had been purged from the archives before Darius' time so never learned how to construct the colossal death machines that slaughtered millions in the great war.
The dwarf toiled in the forges for many years, thousands of Dwarven Defenders bearing his makers mark, before he grew tired of his paranoid clan preparing for a war that should never come to pass. He left the clan to explore the world in his older years. This however angered his clan and stripped him of his name leaving him as a Shatterstone or one of the lowest miners in dwarven society. Darius cared little, using his skill and experience he managed to trade for the materials and build what he needed and set out into the world with little knowledge of what adventures would find him.
Gender: Male
Age: 78
Birthplace: Karak Hold
Current Location: Wanderneir
Physical Description:
Darius is fairly normal for his race, standing at just over 4ft tall but broad and muscular. However he is remarkable due to one bright and intelligent eye that is contrasted by one that is clouded and blind. He carries a heavy sledge covered in Dwarven runes and is clad in light armor. While fairly muscular he does not have the bearing of a soldier but rather a skilled artisan. This is made apparent by the Dwarven Defender golem and the small team (5) of Hextech (Magitech) servants that follow him around, beond which he carries bandoliers filled with grenades and alchemical vials.
The Defender Golem is somewhat large, standing at about 6ft and somewhat broader than a man it is intimidating to all but the bulkiest of the human race. The Servants however are only about 3 ft tall and essentially useless in battle due to their fairly light frames and lack of armor. they are quite useful in their role of worker drone to do the unskilled work for a craftsman.
Golem names are designated by a piece of metal the size of a coin inlaid into their head.
Servants:
Iron
Tin
Copper
lead
Silver
Defender:
DarkSteel (often Fat Bastard)
Mental Description:
Darius is not a young dwarf any longer and thinks as such. He knows that he is a well skilled Hexsmith and will happily argue with any other artisan in ways only a dwarf craftsman can. Some believe an old dwarf is set in their ways and are immovable as the mountains the hail from, and those people would often be right, but Darius is sharp and does not cling to traditions like many of his clansmen. He is as grumpy and and prone to grumbling as any other dwarf.
Background Information (Optional):
Darius was born and raised in Karak Hold trained as a Hexsmith and dabbling in Alchemy. His clan, the Warsmiths, was one of the few dwarven clans who could still make the mighty war golems of the great war Darius learned to manufacture the magically enchanted machines whiole living in fear another great war would arise. The most deadly and terrible war machines had been purged from the archives before Darius' time so never learned how to construct the colossal death machines that slaughtered millions in the great war.
The dwarf toiled in the forges for many years, thousands of Dwarven Defenders bearing his makers mark, before he grew tired of his paranoid clan preparing for a war that should never come to pass. He left the clan to explore the world in his older years. This however angered his clan and stripped him of his name leaving him as a Shatterstone or one of the lowest miners in dwarven society. Darius cared little, using his skill and experience he managed to trade for the materials and build what he needed and set out into the world with little knowledge of what adventures would find him.
Rune_Alchemist Absolute Depravity
Member
Seen
0-24 hrs ago
Name:
Miren Alosia
Species:
Leveret
Gender:
Female
Age:
18
Birthplace:
Moonfall
Current Location:
Wanderneir
Physical Description:
Standing at just four foot five, Miren is slightly taller than her Leveret and sports the typical looks of her kind, and almost middle aged. White, fluffy ears that extend from the top of her head, poking from her mildly messy hair. Hazel colored yellow eyes, and a short fluffy tail extending from her backside. She sports a darker skin coloration than most others of her kind, due to mixed heritage some generations ago. She can often be seen wearing simple easy to move in clothing when in cities that give her full range of motion without too much hindrance.
Easily seen, she is fairly well muscled for her species. While not as burly as a dwarf, she's used to an active lifestyle poking around ruins and old places. She's as much of an adventurer as she is a bookworm, often relying on her wits and physical attributes to solve problems or evade monsters.
As far as physical talents go, she is well trained in hand to hand combat, often consisting of kicks and use of her legs and using her smaller stature to get the up on people in fights and without relying on Leveret magic. She knows how to survive in the wild, and often spends a long time away from contact with others, spending lengthy amounts of time exploring and running around old ruins and ancient sites, looking for a good story.
Carries all sorts of supplies one would need to explore places on her person when out adventuring. Ropes, lantern, a few reference books, survival knives, canteens for water and other such materials.
Mental Description:
At first, Miren would probably come off as a little meek, bearing none of that typically perceived Leveret proud nature. Around others she doesn't like speaking up, she mumbles and tends to jumble her words together and often times is a jumble of nervousness. This is especially evident around people she doesn't know very well. Easily startled and not very good at dealing with surprises, she often prefers the company of books, writing materials, and ruins. A kind soul who dislikes violence and fighting, but isn't afraid to use self defense should she need too.
However, when alone or doing something extremely relevant to her interests - history, writing, academics - one can easily see that she's passionate about her work and has no hesitation or her usual meekness when shes performing such tasks. If anything, she's a little forceful about such things, and if someone interrupts her work she can get a little testy. Under no circumstance, destroy or tamper with priceless historical artifacts or you'll find out how strong her legs are in the non-fun way.
Background Information:
Lumiere Sur les yeux
Member
Seen
7 mos ago
Kaite (Pronounced 'Kite')
Gender
N/A (Male Pronouns)
Age
Appears 18ish
A temperate region far to the south known for its long, mild summers and short but intense winters. These winters are otherwise dire times as the valleys often flood to the point where boats have mapped out routes through most of the country. Resident typically enjoy safety from atop and along the ridges of peaking valleys. Due to the divide between communities, interior alliances are often formed between city-spires, though rogue sections are difficult to keep tabs on. The province of 'Iillaose' within Ispar's reaches is often seen as the capitol due to the collected research efforts of 'The Crown'. The name mostly comes from the landmass which consists of a ring of seven peaks close enough that three have even managed to build a city along the ridge and outer wall between them. 'The Hand' as it's called, serves as the main hive dry dock for conventional airship travel as well as the central cultural and intellectual hub.
Elves and Dwarves once ruled over this region, though war ground the region into a desolate flatland save for the crown which erupted during this time. Venting mana into the region, from the bones of the old spires grew a vast forest home to life, misshapen from the turmoil which engulfed the land.
Ruins of dwarven workshops and elven labs dot the region, though the fauna has grown powerfully savage from the secrets that seep out of the carcass of ancient aristocracy.
Current Location
Wanderneir outskirts
Mental Description
Kaite was built and trained to be polite and eloquent to the letter, though unwisely prompted to function on logic and read organics for cues, ideally to take initiative. This has led to him being a bit poor at dealing with romantics, though patient with ranting outbursts that he'd bore witness to a fair share of. However, there is no telling how much he 'took to heart' in a number of instances over the years of serving the family when confronted about his machine-like nature. Because of the changing tastes of the Sinclair lineage, Kaite has grown proficient in feinting emotions, preferences and even dispositions for the sake of pretending to be more human. The recent decades have instilled an almost sultry string, learning to be subtly manipulative mostly in the way of discouraging radical action or even reasoning. Still, words alone do not slay trespassers, and only sentient souls feel remorse for their actions or hesitate on orders conflicting with common morals. At the very least, most would not do so with a hauntingly pleasant smile.
Kaite is highly inexperienced with the outside world and how people work without direction. At the very least, he endeavors to be adaptive and accommodating.
Years of decommissioned entombment while rebuilding themselves has caused a number of errors to crop up and Kaite can occasionally behave in unstable manners.
Background Information
Kaite was commissioned by the Sinclair family roughly one hundred years before the war as a display of wealth and influence. This thankfully resulted in a well spent investment which would go on to save the duchess from a gang of malcontents, later that same week while returning from a political arraignment. Through the years, Kaite served as everything from an advisor to a surrogate mother figure to an executioner. This life spent adapting to the twists and turns of expected unquestioning obedience was not often the easiest, but it was still life and it was genuinely worth it to serve.
{Content Corrupted}
-the swamp, and the silence that followed thereafter reinforced the notion that their loss was inconsequential at best. The dull lights of the local civilization in the distance called to Kaite's curiosity and it seemed like as good of a place as any to get his bearings and potentially secure more efficient travel.
Magical Construct (Ceramisteel golem)
The pride of craftsman and coffer alike, art given life to serve. Such as a golem is, they are wholly/mostly constructed of a single material. 'Ceramisteel' is the name of a process where in an enchanted compound is infused into porcelain to grant it near metal-like properties (Listed below in 'Abilities' ). Due to the need of pure components of a rare nature to assemble the core from, the commissioning of capable artificers to craft the porcelain default and magitechnicians to bind the essence of a soulgem to the core, instances of this variety of golem are uncommon. Money often being an issue.
Typically, a golem follows orders to the will of the master who commands it. However, vague orders will often be met with improvisation based on previous commands. Such an order prior to the death of a master has been observed to cause a golem to tirelessly perform a task without end before defaulting to common constants.
Posed with a vague demand such as 'avenge me' from a dying master, the web of possibilities spread out so much so that the construct's decision making processes mimic sentience in pursuit of the goal. With the task complete, what is there left to do but return home?
The pride of craftsman and coffer alike, art given life to serve. Such as a golem is, they are wholly/mostly constructed of a single material. 'Ceramisteel' is the name of a process where in an enchanted compound is infused into porcelain to grant it near metal-like properties (Listed below in 'Abilities' ). Due to the need of pure components of a rare nature to assemble the core from, the commissioning of capable artificers to craft the porcelain default and magitechnicians to bind the essence of a soulgem to the core, instances of this variety of golem are uncommon. Money often being an issue.
Typically, a golem follows orders to the will of the master who commands it. However, vague orders will often be met with improvisation based on previous commands. Such an order prior to the death of a master has been observed to cause a golem to tirelessly perform a task without end before defaulting to common constants.
Posed with a vague demand such as 'avenge me' from a dying master, the web of possibilities spread out so much so that the construct's decision making processes mimic sentience in pursuit of the goal. With the task complete, what is there left to do but return home?
Gender
N/A (Male Pronouns)
Age
Appears 18ish
Ispar
A temperate region far to the south known for its long, mild summers and short but intense winters. These winters are otherwise dire times as the valleys often flood to the point where boats have mapped out routes through most of the country. Resident typically enjoy safety from atop and along the ridges of peaking valleys. Due to the divide between communities, interior alliances are often formed between city-spires, though rogue sections are difficult to keep tabs on. The province of 'Iillaose' within Ispar's reaches is often seen as the capitol due to the collected research efforts of 'The Crown'. The name mostly comes from the landmass which consists of a ring of seven peaks close enough that three have even managed to build a city along the ridge and outer wall between them. 'The Hand' as it's called, serves as the main hive dry dock for conventional airship travel as well as the central cultural and intellectual hub.
Elves and Dwarves once ruled over this region, though war ground the region into a desolate flatland save for the crown which erupted during this time. Venting mana into the region, from the bones of the old spires grew a vast forest home to life, misshapen from the turmoil which engulfed the land.
Ruins of dwarven workshops and elven labs dot the region, though the fauna has grown powerfully savage from the secrets that seep out of the carcass of ancient aristocracy.
Current Location
Wanderneir outskirts
A doll standing at 5ft, flat-heeled knee-high boots bump this up to 5'2. Typically clad in his old servant's attire (at least in the start of the thread), under it he wears what would equate to a black leather form-fitting tanktop with flexible layered scales reinforcing the chest and abdomen. A pair of matching bracers fixed to arm guards are kept under the sleeves of their servant's attire, custom made and designed to inconspicuously protect without giving the impression of the apparently meek servant actually being an armed guard.
The trend continues with greaves and cuisses of the set lacking poleyn for flexibility, all belted to the legs over mid-thigh socks fixed with garters running up snug, fitted and broad-belted leather short-shorts.
Great care was taken to detail the doll's androgynously lithe design; resources and funding must not have been an object in procuring and tailoring the quality material to protect the owner's investment, light of armor as it is.
The trend continues with greaves and cuisses of the set lacking poleyn for flexibility, all belted to the legs over mid-thigh socks fixed with garters running up snug, fitted and broad-belted leather short-shorts.
Great care was taken to detail the doll's androgynously lithe design; resources and funding must not have been an object in procuring and tailoring the quality material to protect the owner's investment, light of armor as it is.
Skills
The Late Lord's Servant - Typical subroutines like cooking and playing instruments such as violins or pianos. Hundreds of recipes have been etched into Kaite's mind including a few foreign delicacies. However, these techniques are performed best with the proper tools and ingredients as Kaite will seldom deviate from the text. As such, these skills are nearly useless on the road.
Simple tasks like mending weathered or damaged attire come with ease due to machine precision in repetitive tasks. This would extend to crocheting, though his first attempt was a scarf nearly twenty feet long before being stopped when the matron of the house returned from having left the room for 'just a moment'.
The Late Lord's Guard Dog - Kaite was first trained in anatomy and first aid, to save lives and tend to the ailing of injury or illness (unable to contract biological diseases of obvious reasons). Next, the Duke's clever pet was taught how to end lives, and how to most efficiently go about it...and what the command was to be 'inefficient'. Such as it is, Kaite is skilled with light blades such as rapiers as well as an understanding of guns. He isn't the most practiced in 'guns' as they tend to be loud and messy...and he's the one who has to clean up the mess.
Armaments
"Samsara" Ceramisteel Frame - Compact and durable, damage to the material will eventually heal with chunks broken off from the core slowly dissipating into mundane sand while voids fill. The process can be expedited by collecting and piecing the damage back together, though this is a tedious process that only Kaite truly knows the solution to. Regardless, it makes the difference between regrowing an arm and fusing a crack. Due to the composition of Kaite's frame, most piercing and mild slash attacks are negligible in threat, while heavy impact, especially blunt, can be devastating.
"Liminality" Hextech Heart (Core System) - A binding of precious metals and soul gem sections, the vaguely heart-shaped object anomalously beats in Kaite's chest. The lone psuedo-organ processes all thought and grants the ceramisteel frame locomotion. The heart links to leylines and absorbs ambient essence from the environment to feed itself and power subsystems. The heart can shield itself from a limited amount of damage, but damage is critical in any instance. While the qualities of the frame carry over onto the core, cognitive processes are a delicate thing that required decades to hone, and heals much slower...if at all.
"Olos" Arcana Cannon (Combat Subsystems) - An allowance of energy collected by Kaite's heart is transferred into his left arm over time such that it is always charging if possible. The design is grossly inefficient such that it expels a nearly a full charge in as many as three powerful bursts of immolating force with a max reach of 5m. Each caseless shot fires in a spike-shaped emission from the palm, resulting in a concussive vacuum around the point of origin. Shot power is gauged with inhibitors aware of Kaite's structural integrity to prevent the unit from possibly blowing its own arm off with the force of firing off all shots simultaneously or in rapid succession.
The Late Lord's Servant - Typical subroutines like cooking and playing instruments such as violins or pianos. Hundreds of recipes have been etched into Kaite's mind including a few foreign delicacies. However, these techniques are performed best with the proper tools and ingredients as Kaite will seldom deviate from the text. As such, these skills are nearly useless on the road.
Simple tasks like mending weathered or damaged attire come with ease due to machine precision in repetitive tasks. This would extend to crocheting, though his first attempt was a scarf nearly twenty feet long before being stopped when the matron of the house returned from having left the room for 'just a moment'.
The Late Lord's Guard Dog - Kaite was first trained in anatomy and first aid, to save lives and tend to the ailing of injury or illness (unable to contract biological diseases of obvious reasons). Next, the Duke's clever pet was taught how to end lives, and how to most efficiently go about it...and what the command was to be 'inefficient'. Such as it is, Kaite is skilled with light blades such as rapiers as well as an understanding of guns. He isn't the most practiced in 'guns' as they tend to be loud and messy...and he's the one who has to clean up the mess.
Armaments
"Samsara" Ceramisteel Frame - Compact and durable, damage to the material will eventually heal with chunks broken off from the core slowly dissipating into mundane sand while voids fill. The process can be expedited by collecting and piecing the damage back together, though this is a tedious process that only Kaite truly knows the solution to. Regardless, it makes the difference between regrowing an arm and fusing a crack. Due to the composition of Kaite's frame, most piercing and mild slash attacks are negligible in threat, while heavy impact, especially blunt, can be devastating.
"Liminality" Hextech Heart (Core System) - A binding of precious metals and soul gem sections, the vaguely heart-shaped object anomalously beats in Kaite's chest. The lone psuedo-organ processes all thought and grants the ceramisteel frame locomotion. The heart links to leylines and absorbs ambient essence from the environment to feed itself and power subsystems. The heart can shield itself from a limited amount of damage, but damage is critical in any instance. While the qualities of the frame carry over onto the core, cognitive processes are a delicate thing that required decades to hone, and heals much slower...if at all.
"Olos" Arcana Cannon (Combat Subsystems) - An allowance of energy collected by Kaite's heart is transferred into his left arm over time such that it is always charging if possible. The design is grossly inefficient such that it expels a nearly a full charge in as many as three powerful bursts of immolating force with a max reach of 5m. Each caseless shot fires in a spike-shaped emission from the palm, resulting in a concussive vacuum around the point of origin. Shot power is gauged with inhibitors aware of Kaite's structural integrity to prevent the unit from possibly blowing its own arm off with the force of firing off all shots simultaneously or in rapid succession.
Mental Description
Kaite was built and trained to be polite and eloquent to the letter, though unwisely prompted to function on logic and read organics for cues, ideally to take initiative. This has led to him being a bit poor at dealing with romantics, though patient with ranting outbursts that he'd bore witness to a fair share of. However, there is no telling how much he 'took to heart' in a number of instances over the years of serving the family when confronted about his machine-like nature. Because of the changing tastes of the Sinclair lineage, Kaite has grown proficient in feinting emotions, preferences and even dispositions for the sake of pretending to be more human. The recent decades have instilled an almost sultry string, learning to be subtly manipulative mostly in the way of discouraging radical action or even reasoning. Still, words alone do not slay trespassers, and only sentient souls feel remorse for their actions or hesitate on orders conflicting with common morals. At the very least, most would not do so with a hauntingly pleasant smile.
Kaite is highly inexperienced with the outside world and how people work without direction. At the very least, he endeavors to be adaptive and accommodating.
Years of decommissioned entombment while rebuilding themselves has caused a number of errors to crop up and Kaite can occasionally behave in unstable manners.
Background Information
Kaite was commissioned by the Sinclair family roughly one hundred years before the war as a display of wealth and influence. This thankfully resulted in a well spent investment which would go on to save the duchess from a gang of malcontents, later that same week while returning from a political arraignment. Through the years, Kaite served as everything from an advisor to a surrogate mother figure to an executioner. This life spent adapting to the twists and turns of expected unquestioning obedience was not often the easiest, but it was still life and it was genuinely worth it to serve.
{Content Corrupted}
-the swamp, and the silence that followed thereafter reinforced the notion that their loss was inconsequential at best. The dull lights of the local civilization in the distance called to Kaite's curiosity and it seemed like as good of a place as any to get his bearings and potentially secure more efficient travel.
Eisenhorn Inquisitor of some Note
Member
Seen
11 hrs ago
Name:
"Gerard Voss, Manipulator of Mana, Magitech, and all sorts of tricks in between. At your service, for a modest fee of course.
Species:
"Far too tall to be a Dwarf, ears too blunt to be an Elf, and nowhere near hairy enough to be a Leveret. Oh, and solid, so no slime. Human it is then!"
Gender:
"Male, though I'm sure the stubble and lack of curves didn't give that away at all."
Age:
"Late thirties, early forties, I think? I lose track, not something that is terribly relevant."
Note: Current age is 41.
Birthplace:
"Some small village out in the middle of nowhere, out beyond the swamps and at least a weeks travel from Wanderneir."
Note: Saker Keep, the village in question, has close ties in trade with the Dwarves of nearby mountains. Settled in the ruins of an old Human castle, they tend to fend off bandits and the like on a routine basis, meaning that the technology they received from the dwarves as part of trading has had to be weaponized.
Current Location:
"Seeing what's to see in Wanderneir, curious name that. Perhaps do some commission work, see if anything interesting jumps up, otherwise move on..."
Mental Description:
"A flippant nuisance and far too eager to tinker for his own good. Ahh, such kind words, aren't they? The dwarves may not have been wrong though."
Gerard is a tinkerer, an experimenter, and explorer by nature. Always pushing his creations and even his own body to their limits whenever it suits him, he tends to get up to his neck in trouble if for no other reason than to see how well he can get out of it. Being a drifter and wanderer at heart, he tends not to hang around in any one place for too long unless something interesting or otherwise engaging is going on. Of course, he cannot simply wander for free, and often finds himself in the employ of all sorts, and is certainly willing to do dirty work to line his pockets before going about his business. Outside of doing business, he has little regard for anything that doesn't hold his interest, be it curious beings, curious technology, curious magic, or merely strange occurrences. That being said, he can be counted on to (begrudgingly) assist those he finds as friends, in his own special way that may or may not be actually seen as helpful in the short term. Or the long term, depending on the original goal, but he will help.
Strengths:
"I'm a tinkerer with magitech, what more could I need?"
What is obvious from Gerard's equipment is that, despite his human birth, he has every intent of not only matching the Dwarves and their technological marvels, but even surpassing them. He maintains and builds his own equipment, and is a deft hand in puzzling out even ancient technology that is still running even after all this time. Fitting for a Magitech focused man, he has the ability to manipulate the Mana that is in the air and always around him, though to what extent he keeps a closely guarded secret. To go along with this, he has a deft hand and sharp eyes, able to pick out minute details and do things that require fine motor control. What is less obvious is the fact that he is competent at first aid and treating injuries, mostly his own since he has had things quite literally blow up in his face before. Outside of this, he is used to making ends meet with very little, and living out in the wilds when traveling, exploring, and plunging headlong into the places destroyed and forgotten during the war.
Drawbacks:
"Flaws, me? I'm flawless. Really, cross my heart and hope to die."
Despite boasting, Gerard is, in fact, not a flawless human being. Compared to others of his species, he is not terribly strong, reliant on dexterity and agility to make ends meet. Given his flippant, and often times secretive, attitude, he can rather easily make enemies regardless of whether or not he intends to or not. Add in the fact that nothing is off limits, and he believes he can go wherever he pleases if it suits his interests and needs, he can find himself in hot water in a hurry. He also has far too much confidence in his experimental, and temperamental, magitech inventions, meaning that should all of it fail, he'll be down to whatever is on hand and his own wits to get by.
Experimental Longcaster:
"My second, and longest running, project. Ease of use of a crossbow, without all the fussing about. At least in theory."
The long metal contraption that is on his back most of the time, Gerard refers to it as a "Longcaster", not the most imaginative of names, but it gets the point across. Comparable to what one might consider a wheellock mechanism, though it does not unwind when fired to generate sparks. The windings instead control how cohesive the pure mana slug in the mana condensing crystals that line the weapon's internals is. The more tightly wound the control spring, the longer reaching the slug is. Of course, more cohesiveness takes longer for the weapon to naturally draw upon ambient mana to recharge, and while Gerard can certainly use his own ability to manipulate mana to forcefully recharge the chamber, doing so in rapid succession can lead to the crystals overheating or outright exploding. Notably, when fully unwound, instead of a single slug, the weapon emits a blast of mana that acts more like an explosive than a single shot, unintentionally useful for close defense.
Prototype Shortcaster
"Yes, it's still technically a prototype, but its my most reliable and successful creation."
Originally with only one barrel, and far more simplistic, Gerard's imaginative naming conventions have continued even now. Having evolved from its humble origins, the contraption has six barrels, each lined with crystals capable of drawing in and containing mana until agitated into a violent release. While not capable of creating blasts that maintain cohesiveness for nearly as long or far as the Longcaster, but he can chain up to six blasts of damaging mana slugs in rapid succession before having to either let the crystals recharge on their own or manually force them to accept mana he manipulates into the barrels. While it may look like it, the thing does not actually rotate freely, a lever on the box holding the six barrels in place can be flicked to change which barrel is being agitated into firing off its charge.
General Note: As more things are created, stolen and modified, or otherwise come into his possession, they will be added into this list.
"My second, and longest running, project. Ease of use of a crossbow, without all the fussing about. At least in theory."
The long metal contraption that is on his back most of the time, Gerard refers to it as a "Longcaster", not the most imaginative of names, but it gets the point across. Comparable to what one might consider a wheellock mechanism, though it does not unwind when fired to generate sparks. The windings instead control how cohesive the pure mana slug in the mana condensing crystals that line the weapon's internals is. The more tightly wound the control spring, the longer reaching the slug is. Of course, more cohesiveness takes longer for the weapon to naturally draw upon ambient mana to recharge, and while Gerard can certainly use his own ability to manipulate mana to forcefully recharge the chamber, doing so in rapid succession can lead to the crystals overheating or outright exploding. Notably, when fully unwound, instead of a single slug, the weapon emits a blast of mana that acts more like an explosive than a single shot, unintentionally useful for close defense.
Prototype Shortcaster
"Yes, it's still technically a prototype, but its my most reliable and successful creation."
Originally with only one barrel, and far more simplistic, Gerard's imaginative naming conventions have continued even now. Having evolved from its humble origins, the contraption has six barrels, each lined with crystals capable of drawing in and containing mana until agitated into a violent release. While not capable of creating blasts that maintain cohesiveness for nearly as long or far as the Longcaster, but he can chain up to six blasts of damaging mana slugs in rapid succession before having to either let the crystals recharge on their own or manually force them to accept mana he manipulates into the barrels. While it may look like it, the thing does not actually rotate freely, a lever on the box holding the six barrels in place can be flicked to change which barrel is being agitated into firing off its charge.
General Note: As more things are created, stolen and modified, or otherwise come into his possession, they will be added into this list.
Background Information:
"Now, where's the fun in spelling out everything? No, no you get to find out the hard way."
AtomicNut Abusive Contractor
Member
Seen
23 min ago
Name:Sir Kay Starling AKA Sir Kay of Stony Cross AKA The Gallant Knight
Species: Human
Gender: Male
Age:28
Birthplace: Stony Cross, a walled town with a keep near Leveret territory.
Current Location:TBD (Probably Swamps of Wanderneir, because the city is getting a little crowded).
Physical Description:Sir Kay is athletic and tall, with a warrior's build and standing at a bit more than 6'4", thus giving him an imposing presence when clad in armour from head to toe. He rarely ventures without it, as underneath the clothes, his entire body is a map of scars from head to toe. Burns, cuts, bites, arrows. His face is affected too, having a nasty burnt scar in the right side of the neck and cheek, covered in pale, pink wrinkled flesh. He has black hair which he keeps cut short and a reassuring calm stare with hazel eyes. He also has a significant tan due to his outdoor lifestyle.
His equipment sets sir Kay apart from most wandering knights, and most knights at all. He is one of the few lucky (or unlucky ones) to have come to possess a dragon scale armour, which in itself is no small feat. (Dragon-scale is a rare material, and armours usually are tailored to the person, so he either was incredibly lucky or incredibly skilled to take out a dragon on his own). His sword is also a treasure on his own, a precious relic from a forgotten age cast in star metal, and with runic enchantments etched on it. His lance and shield are however, more mundane, albeit they're also rather high quality equipment. The shield was crafted by dwarven metal smiths and the lance is made of ironwood, which is slightly heavier than normal but also more durable. His bow is otherwise non-descript, as he considers the weapon a bit un-knightly.
He rides an old chestnut mare, whom he is incredibly attached to. He even calls her Betta. Even if the steed is evidently old and no longer at her prime, she seems to have a keen disposition and a certain cunning (for a horse), and is every bit as battle-hardy as her owner.
Mental Description: Kay is a two-faced individual. On the surface, he seems to have no small mean streak and he is brash, despondent and dismissive of most things, specially politics and society. He is usually gruff and it takes several attempts to establish conversation with him unless he is specially interested in something. Underneath the surface, it is clear he is sullen and disappointed with the world at large, and he tries to keep people at arm's length so that they don't learn the brave knight actually thinks the world is a complete latrine. However, when the situation calls for it, Kay is a pillar of bravery and a light in the darkness. He is nearly fearless when it comes to defending the weak. No foe is too tough. No challenge is too dire. Even if his body is cut, full of arrows and burnt, he keeps going as long as he draws breath, and innocents need to be protected.
Unlike most vassals of the Kingdom of Wanderneir, Kay is pragmatic when it comes to magic. It is a powerful tool. Nothing else. However, like all powerful tools it can be misused and care needs to be taken when giving certain individuals said knowledge. He himself has taken to heart to learn it, since his wandering knight ways has pitted him against ever-increasing dangerous foes, some of them couldn't be felled in normal ways. While far from being a full-fledged mage, he has a decent set of support magic skills, kitted to increase his durability in battle and dispelling foul arts. He also knows some offensive fire spell casting.
He is also more cultured than the average knight, seeing that knowing other languages and cultures can help when gathering information. Due to him being raised near Leveret territory, he has a decent insight on them.
Background Information (Optional):
Kay was born as the second son of Count Starling, Lord of Stony Cross. His highborn status and being second fiddle to the heir, his elder brother, sent him in the path of knighthood. If his brother was the ruling lord, he would be the town's sworn shield, and would strike at foes and defend the innocent. Kay was found out to have an excellent sword-arm and was an exemplary squire, being knighted fairly young much to his family's joy and pride.
Yet, for his exemplary attitude, Kay had certain... habits that didn't match with the average citizen. Stony Cross was part of the wars that spanned against the hare folk, the Leveret, and as such the town was incredibly xenophobic and magic-hating as a result. Kay did not revile them. From his point of view, the war had been long past, and the Leveret bleed red the same as him, so they weren't monsters or anything. Just somewhat different.
This would eventually prove to be his undoing.
When he was eighteen, he intervened in what seemed to be a diplomatic incident waiting to happen. A female Leveret trader had been accused of foul witchcraft, and was on the verge of being lynched. Kay stood up in her defense, for several reasons. They had no solid proof of foul practice, nor callously aggravating a neighbour trader would help to mend the rocky relationship with their folk. He had expected his brother to go in his defense. He did not. Secretly, his elder brother had been jealously because his own achievements paled in comparison to Kay's, and he used the situation to get rid of his little annoying brother.
Kay was left with no other option but to break the law to avoid shedding innocent blood. He helped the trader escape, and never set foot on Stony Cross again, deciding to become a wandering knight instead. It was his calling. No petty lords to please, no dirty politics. No backstabbing. Only him, monsters, and innocents to be saved. He kept doing this for a decade, his wounds and scars accumulating as well as his fame. However, his tales spread more among the neighbours of Wanderneir than inside the kingdom proper. Tales of travellers about a single gallant knight coming to their rescue without expecting any kind of reward. For this, he received boons such as his shield, his armour and his sword, which otherwise would be out of reach for someone with a more grounded lifestyle.
And then... news of the Kingdom's state reached his ears. Even if the politics of the kingdom had hurt him so badly, he decided to end his self imposed exile. Innocents were innocents after all.
Species: Human
Gender: Male
Age:28
Birthplace: Stony Cross, a walled town with a keep near Leveret territory.
Current Location:TBD (Probably Swamps of Wanderneir, because the city is getting a little crowded).
Physical Description:Sir Kay is athletic and tall, with a warrior's build and standing at a bit more than 6'4", thus giving him an imposing presence when clad in armour from head to toe. He rarely ventures without it, as underneath the clothes, his entire body is a map of scars from head to toe. Burns, cuts, bites, arrows. His face is affected too, having a nasty burnt scar in the right side of the neck and cheek, covered in pale, pink wrinkled flesh. He has black hair which he keeps cut short and a reassuring calm stare with hazel eyes. He also has a significant tan due to his outdoor lifestyle.
His equipment sets sir Kay apart from most wandering knights, and most knights at all. He is one of the few lucky (or unlucky ones) to have come to possess a dragon scale armour, which in itself is no small feat. (Dragon-scale is a rare material, and armours usually are tailored to the person, so he either was incredibly lucky or incredibly skilled to take out a dragon on his own). His sword is also a treasure on his own, a precious relic from a forgotten age cast in star metal, and with runic enchantments etched on it. His lance and shield are however, more mundane, albeit they're also rather high quality equipment. The shield was crafted by dwarven metal smiths and the lance is made of ironwood, which is slightly heavier than normal but also more durable. His bow is otherwise non-descript, as he considers the weapon a bit un-knightly.
He rides an old chestnut mare, whom he is incredibly attached to. He even calls her Betta. Even if the steed is evidently old and no longer at her prime, she seems to have a keen disposition and a certain cunning (for a horse), and is every bit as battle-hardy as her owner.
Mental Description: Kay is a two-faced individual. On the surface, he seems to have no small mean streak and he is brash, despondent and dismissive of most things, specially politics and society. He is usually gruff and it takes several attempts to establish conversation with him unless he is specially interested in something. Underneath the surface, it is clear he is sullen and disappointed with the world at large, and he tries to keep people at arm's length so that they don't learn the brave knight actually thinks the world is a complete latrine. However, when the situation calls for it, Kay is a pillar of bravery and a light in the darkness. He is nearly fearless when it comes to defending the weak. No foe is too tough. No challenge is too dire. Even if his body is cut, full of arrows and burnt, he keeps going as long as he draws breath, and innocents need to be protected.
Unlike most vassals of the Kingdom of Wanderneir, Kay is pragmatic when it comes to magic. It is a powerful tool. Nothing else. However, like all powerful tools it can be misused and care needs to be taken when giving certain individuals said knowledge. He himself has taken to heart to learn it, since his wandering knight ways has pitted him against ever-increasing dangerous foes, some of them couldn't be felled in normal ways. While far from being a full-fledged mage, he has a decent set of support magic skills, kitted to increase his durability in battle and dispelling foul arts. He also knows some offensive fire spell casting.
He is also more cultured than the average knight, seeing that knowing other languages and cultures can help when gathering information. Due to him being raised near Leveret territory, he has a decent insight on them.
Background Information (Optional):
Kay was born as the second son of Count Starling, Lord of Stony Cross. His highborn status and being second fiddle to the heir, his elder brother, sent him in the path of knighthood. If his brother was the ruling lord, he would be the town's sworn shield, and would strike at foes and defend the innocent. Kay was found out to have an excellent sword-arm and was an exemplary squire, being knighted fairly young much to his family's joy and pride.
Yet, for his exemplary attitude, Kay had certain... habits that didn't match with the average citizen. Stony Cross was part of the wars that spanned against the hare folk, the Leveret, and as such the town was incredibly xenophobic and magic-hating as a result. Kay did not revile them. From his point of view, the war had been long past, and the Leveret bleed red the same as him, so they weren't monsters or anything. Just somewhat different.
This would eventually prove to be his undoing.
When he was eighteen, he intervened in what seemed to be a diplomatic incident waiting to happen. A female Leveret trader had been accused of foul witchcraft, and was on the verge of being lynched. Kay stood up in her defense, for several reasons. They had no solid proof of foul practice, nor callously aggravating a neighbour trader would help to mend the rocky relationship with their folk. He had expected his brother to go in his defense. He did not. Secretly, his elder brother had been jealously because his own achievements paled in comparison to Kay's, and he used the situation to get rid of his little annoying brother.
Kay was left with no other option but to break the law to avoid shedding innocent blood. He helped the trader escape, and never set foot on Stony Cross again, deciding to become a wandering knight instead. It was his calling. No petty lords to please, no dirty politics. No backstabbing. Only him, monsters, and innocents to be saved. He kept doing this for a decade, his wounds and scars accumulating as well as his fame. However, his tales spread more among the neighbours of Wanderneir than inside the kingdom proper. Tales of travellers about a single gallant knight coming to their rescue without expecting any kind of reward. For this, he received boons such as his shield, his armour and his sword, which otherwise would be out of reach for someone with a more grounded lifestyle.
And then... news of the Kingdom's state reached his ears. Even if the politics of the kingdom had hurt him so badly, he decided to end his self imposed exile. Innocents were innocents after all.
Name: Queen Lamia of Yrdring
Species: Dragon masquerading as Human
Gender: Female
Age: 1500+
Birthplace: The Giant's Dagger, Dragon Valley, north of the continent of Atria.
Current Location: Cauldron Keep, Kingdom of Yrdring (North of Wanderneir)
Physical Description: Lamia is massive and ancient. Dragons are fierce monsters that never stop growing, and her size demonstrates she is far from young. She can blot out the sun of a small town with her wingspan, and has more than enough physical force to crumble castles with her dragonfire and claws. She is a survivor, as her hide and scales are chipped with chinks and even scars from facing other dragons. However, her sheer scale and weight make her somewhat clumsy and a very big target, even when on the move. Thus, she uses sorcery to change and compress her form, usually taking the appearance of one of her thrall races. Since humans are the most common thralls she usually resemble a woman of striking features, with shiny golden eyes and cascading auburn hair.
Mental Description: Dragons are embodiments of pride and greed, and Lamia is no exception. Everything she does, and what she tries to accomplish, is to stoke her own vanity and ego. However, she is a wizened monster, as she has been brought to heel and close to death by the combined might of the unified kingdoms in the past. She knows that as puny as they are, the small races are not to be underestimated, and she changed the usual plunder and terror tactics of the average monster for intrigue, conspiracy and secrecy. Unusual for a dragon, she values blood links with her brood, and is one of the few members of her species to have assembled a semi-stable flock of a couple of young adults and several dragonlings.
She is a decent actress, and can feign empathy and concern pretty well when she wants to. She would be a capable ruler if not for her warped morals and greed.
Background Information (Optional): Lamia was born in another era. Where the lands had mighty empires, and only a far few reaches were out of place of the men, dwarves and elves. She was born in such place, a backward mountain among Mana spires. She grew tall and proud, and like a lot of young hot-headed dragons, she started a rampage as soon as she realized that a couple of warriors with sticks would not be able to stop her rampage.
She was shot out of the sky not a week after, when the different kingdoms showed an unite front. She managed to escape with her life, wounded and crippled, and vowed revenge upon her foes. Over the course of several centuries she avoided being seen or heard, and used that time to slowly but surely plot and hatch schemes to aggravate the fractures between the fighting kingdoms. While she wasn't the only culprit of the entire catastrophe, her touch served to aggravate it. Satisfied and vindicated, she then plundered the now still and dead ruins, and amassed her horde's worth of the treasures of the fallen. She then slept, lazy and proud upon her works. And the world kept spinning. She also raised several clutches of eggs, bringing forth upon the world more of her ilk, which quickly took advantage of the civilization's decline to set their own lairs.
But ... a dragon's appetite isn't sated for long. True, she had an horde. True, she was an elder member of her species. But her lair was located in the middle of nowhere. She wanted more. She bullied a few of her brood to do her bidding, and marched south. Appearing before the King of Yrdring, she presented herself as a sorceress of unmatched might who had brought even the proud dragons to heel. She amazed the court with her wonders, and even managed to gain the awe of the weak-willed heir. Some years later, and after a couple of "incidents", she seized the crown for herself, secretly turning all of Yrdring kingdom into unwitting thralls of the dragons, all while she spoke honeyed words to the masses and raised the kingdom's military power significantly with the goal of conquest of other kingdoms.
Although there's the matter that one of her children was recently felled...
Species: Dragon masquerading as Human
Gender: Female
Age: 1500+
Birthplace: The Giant's Dagger, Dragon Valley, north of the continent of Atria.
Current Location: Cauldron Keep, Kingdom of Yrdring (North of Wanderneir)
Physical Description: Lamia is massive and ancient. Dragons are fierce monsters that never stop growing, and her size demonstrates she is far from young. She can blot out the sun of a small town with her wingspan, and has more than enough physical force to crumble castles with her dragonfire and claws. She is a survivor, as her hide and scales are chipped with chinks and even scars from facing other dragons. However, her sheer scale and weight make her somewhat clumsy and a very big target, even when on the move. Thus, she uses sorcery to change and compress her form, usually taking the appearance of one of her thrall races. Since humans are the most common thralls she usually resemble a woman of striking features, with shiny golden eyes and cascading auburn hair.
Mental Description: Dragons are embodiments of pride and greed, and Lamia is no exception. Everything she does, and what she tries to accomplish, is to stoke her own vanity and ego. However, she is a wizened monster, as she has been brought to heel and close to death by the combined might of the unified kingdoms in the past. She knows that as puny as they are, the small races are not to be underestimated, and she changed the usual plunder and terror tactics of the average monster for intrigue, conspiracy and secrecy. Unusual for a dragon, she values blood links with her brood, and is one of the few members of her species to have assembled a semi-stable flock of a couple of young adults and several dragonlings.
She is a decent actress, and can feign empathy and concern pretty well when she wants to. She would be a capable ruler if not for her warped morals and greed.
Background Information (Optional): Lamia was born in another era. Where the lands had mighty empires, and only a far few reaches were out of place of the men, dwarves and elves. She was born in such place, a backward mountain among Mana spires. She grew tall and proud, and like a lot of young hot-headed dragons, she started a rampage as soon as she realized that a couple of warriors with sticks would not be able to stop her rampage.
She was shot out of the sky not a week after, when the different kingdoms showed an unite front. She managed to escape with her life, wounded and crippled, and vowed revenge upon her foes. Over the course of several centuries she avoided being seen or heard, and used that time to slowly but surely plot and hatch schemes to aggravate the fractures between the fighting kingdoms. While she wasn't the only culprit of the entire catastrophe, her touch served to aggravate it. Satisfied and vindicated, she then plundered the now still and dead ruins, and amassed her horde's worth of the treasures of the fallen. She then slept, lazy and proud upon her works. And the world kept spinning. She also raised several clutches of eggs, bringing forth upon the world more of her ilk, which quickly took advantage of the civilization's decline to set their own lairs.
But ... a dragon's appetite isn't sated for long. True, she had an horde. True, she was an elder member of her species. But her lair was located in the middle of nowhere. She wanted more. She bullied a few of her brood to do her bidding, and marched south. Appearing before the King of Yrdring, she presented herself as a sorceress of unmatched might who had brought even the proud dragons to heel. She amazed the court with her wonders, and even managed to gain the awe of the weak-willed heir. Some years later, and after a couple of "incidents", she seized the crown for herself, secretly turning all of Yrdring kingdom into unwitting thralls of the dragons, all while she spoke honeyed words to the masses and raised the kingdom's military power significantly with the goal of conquest of other kingdoms.
Although there's the matter that one of her children was recently felled...
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