Name: Gordon Edwards
Age: 24
Gender: Male
Race: Mundane
Tale: N/A

Appearance:
His appearance is anything but remarkable, but his clothing style sets him apart from the crowd. His stature is around Five foot Eleven and a half, marking him as the tall somewhat lanky figure in the crowd. His build seems thin at first glance, but years of manual labor and constant rushing from place to place has toned his body, although it can only be noticed if one is bothering to look. His skin is a decent tanned color, but somehow still pale. His hair is a chestnut brown color, while his eyes are brown, almost black in color. His clothing style consists of oddly warm clothing.

Powers/Skills:

Investigator:
Working as a detective for hire as a part time job/hobby, Gordon has become surprisingly competent at discovering clues and spotting abnormal behavior from other living beings. His mind works quickly to formulate any possible reasons something might have happened or a reason for strange behavior from others. Because of this he's generally un-trusting of many people.

Jack Of All Trades:
Taking many odd jobs over the years to help his family have given him many useful and non-useful skills in which he has access to.

Fitness:
Rushing to make deliveries and lifting heavy objects have toughened Gordon so he can run faster and lift things weaker individuals would struggle with.

Brawler:
Not a skill he uses often, he at least can throw a good punch or kick somebody into a table if need be. He's deadlier when he has a weapon nearby however.

Personality:

Not much of a talker, Gordon is a member of the rare middle lower class, which generally is seen as hostile to just about everyone. Free moments are spent in the pub, drinking. He's long since learned his limits, and it's more to give him something to do then to get drunk. The hunt for information is always on for Gordon, as his curious mind is always active.

Spending much of his time interrogating others and being ordered around, he's not the friendly type, and doesn't know much about things like friendship, so he can be seen as a cold person with a colder view on the world. He'd joke about that being his reasoning behind his warm clothing, but he prefers keeping trivial things to himself.

History:
The middle child in a family of five, Gordon was born to a tailor and a hunter. His life was a cold one, and with his father always out on the hunt, his mother was the one to teach him how to fend for himself. He took up his first job at the age of three, and from there his life truly began.

He was always a curious boy, often getting into trouble for being in places he shouldn't have been, including several Upper Class buildings, the slaughter house of a Butcher Shop, and many other places a child or person of his class should have been. With jobs never paying as much as desired, the young boy spent many years moving around jobs, taking on more then one at a time. He picked up many skills along the way, never truly mastering any, yet still learning.

Around the age of fifteen, he cracked his first case. One of the local girls was missing a pillow, and he found it in the bedroom of a neighbors house, atop another pillow and several stolen blankets. His mind was a sharp one, though he was uneducated, he could at least read other people like a book, which he learnt to do, if very slowly, in another of his jobs.

When his family made the decision that it was time for him to move out, his mother gave him some of her hand crafted clothing for his journey to the city he planned to go to, making him promise to send the family any currency he could spare whenever he could. Then the blight struck. He was on his way to the city when it started, and he didn't arrive until it was over. Devastated, his view on the world slowly grew more cold, until he began wearing the warm winter clothing no matter the weather, as a reminder that he had survived. The scarf he wears was one of the items his mother made for him.

He began going to the pub every spare second, drinking, and listening. Listening for interesting stories and possible cases to investigate, though his degrading view of the world around him has tricked his mind into believing it's all an inconvenience and he does it merely to stop the annoying chatter in the background.

Name: Roxana Tolbert
Age: 22
Gender: Female
Race: Mundane
Tale: N/A

Appearance: Roxana has a petite build, standing at of 5'4". She is usually elaborately dressed, to the point that she is almost identifiable by her true facial features. Ironically, her dressing is what causes her to stand out in most situations. She has a youthful look, making her seem younger than she actually is, and is slightly tanned with dark, wavy hair.

Powers/Skills:

• Acrobatics - Roxana is very agile and can perform stunts due to her training. She is also proficient with small weapons.
• Sleight of Hand - Roxana can leave, take, or conceal objects without being seen.
• Performance - Roxana is a charismatic individual from far, and can effectively entertain.

Personality:
Roxana does not speak much, but she is abundantly expressive in other ways. Giving off a playful and whimsical, yet unsettling vibe, her mannerisms are elaborate and rather eccentric, and her actions can be unpredictable at times. She is a child at heart, being a curious and excitable individual. She enjoys getting acquainted with new people, though, that might not often be too apparent, and is rarely ever outwardly aggressive.

Her tendency to be rather difficult to read, as well as the mischief that she would occasionally be up to contributes to her discomforting aura. Although quite a few would not fancy spending a long period of time with her up close, they are always impressed watching her from afar, in awe of her proficiency and elegance as she displays her skills. However, there are some who are able to make a friend of her, and she would often make known her appreciation for their company.

History:
Roxana was born and raised in a family of travelling street performers, and trained to do dangerous stunts from an early age. They moved from town to town, entertaining the crowds for whatever they would pay them. Seeing the looks of admiration and appreciation on the faces of the people who watched her perform was everything to her. It was how she felt accepted by the public. However, due to her consistent moving, she rarely had the opportunity to interact with the ‘normal folk’, and never understood their true feelings towards her and her family.

It all changed for her one night when her family stopped their caravan on a path through some woods. A bunch of bandits attacked without warning, catching them completely off guard. Although the bandits only intended to rob them, the lives of her parents were not spared. They must not have wanted to deal with the skills of stunt performers, and took the chance that the element of surprise had given them to take out the obstacle. Roxana would have been killed as well, if she had not managed to escape on time.

The then teenage girl was left to travel by herself, using the skills she had learned to get by. She found it difficult to explain her situation to anyone she came across, due to her lack of experience in communicating with people who lived such different lives. In addition, she was perceived as bizarre and unusual by many. She continued to stick to her performances, though, she would at times resort to betting games and petty scams to get her hands on some extra coin.

She continued in such a way on her own for years, until she stumbled upon a desolated, miserable town one day. The air was heavy with the ambiance of death, decay and despair. Curious to find out the reason for the state of the town, she proceeded to make her way through it, though, her efforts to obtain the answers that she had sought were unavailing. Deciding to leave, she wondered if there were any clues in the next place she went to. Her wandering eventually brought her to Ravenport, and she would get by in the place the same way she had always done, unless of course, there was something better for her.

Name: Greggor Jamesson
Age: 37
Gender: Male
Race: Mundane
Tale: None

Appearance:
He stands at Five foot Seven, weighs a hefty One Hundred and Eighty pounds, with greasy blond hair and a short, yet somehow well trimmed beard. His eyes are a hazel color, and his skin is pale, yet lightly tanned from many years of working indoors. He's a somewhat bulky fellow, not overly heavy, but looking the part. His clothing consist of typical bartender attire, including an apron and and collared shirt, the sleeves always rolled up.

Powers/Skills:

Bartender: He serves drinks, food, and often hears interesting rumors and gossip, though he'll probably charge you for it all.

Personality:
As a bartender, Greggor is a rather social person, though he isn't the most friendly to those who've over stayed their welcome, or refuse to pay their tab. He greets all patrons with a booming laugh and a deep and masculine "Welcome!" and often will point out the odd balls and the dark faces in the crowd for newer patrons, as a way of helping them remain out of trouble. He often remarks that his wife makes better meals then he does, though many of the frequent patrons of his tavern would disagree. An eternal optimist, Greggor is cheerful more often then not, and that spreads to many of the patrons, though a few drinks don't hurt.

History:
Living in Ravenport all of his life, with a long line of bartenders in his family, it was only natural that he would become one himself. His father taught him about the bar, the drinks, and food, and what every aspiring bartender needed to know, and he was on his way. When his father died at the age of Sixty Four, Greggor took over the bar, which is how he met his wife.

She had come in to drink her sorrows away, and they soon hit it off, marrying a few months later.

Greggor has seen many strange and odd things in his time as a bartender, so not much surprises him, though he is far from a desensitized individual.

He does not discriminate about who he serves, as long as he's paid for the drinks.

Name: Grace Hendricks
Age: 28
Gender: Female
Race: Mundane
Tale: None

Appearance:
At Five foot Four and a half, One Hundred and Thirty pounds, this short woman can often be spotted out on the streets, or within the confines of the bar, trying to make a living. Her long hair is a dark red color, wavy and thick, while her devious grayish-blue eyes stare at the world around her, plotting more ways to make money. She is often seen wearing dresses and skirts of green, sometimes with fur attached to keep her warm, and add to her beauty.

Powers/Skills:

Musician: Taught by many other street performers in the art of music, Grace knows her way around a lute, which she uses to entertain those with money to spare and drunken patrons of the local bars.

Charm: She often uses her looks and sickeningly sweet tone of voice to charm extra money out of listeners, making her deadly to your wallet.

Personality:
Not much is known about her, other then she's very flirty towards both men and women alike, usually to get what she wants, and that she really gets into her music when she plays it. Money seems to be her top priority, though it's possible that as long as she gets a stable source of income, a home, and can continue playing music, she'd be the happiest woman alive. That's about all anyone can read from her, she's otherwise quiet, and generally willing to let others listen to her for free if they can't afford it.

She acts over the top flirty when refused extra payment, to the point of stalking those who refuse. Some have gone missing.

History:
Although not much is known about the Grace's past, it can be derived from the way she protects the lute she carries around with her, that it was a gift, or holds some meaning to her, possibly as past husband, a mentor, or deceased family.

She's been living within the confines of the city for months now, but nobody seems to know if she's been around longer then that, or if she recently popped up, either way, nobody can argue that she has both talent, and beauty on her side.

Name: Ravenskull Tavern
Age: Open For Business For About 40 Years Now
Tale: None

Appearance:
Nothing fancy, this building is somewhat dark and foreboding on the outside, yet cheerful and inviting on the inside. The decorations are sparse, mostly consisting of old hunting trophies and old family paintings. It rests near one of the roads that branches between the Slums and the Shopping District.

History:

Opened up by the Jamesson Family about 40 years back, this Tavern has stood through thick and thin, serving as a drinking spot for anyone and everything with money to spare. Reviews have said it's a comfortable place with good food and better booze.

Name: Captain Arnold 'Ace' Flashman (Retired).
Age: 32
Gender: Male
Race: Mundane
Tale: N/A

Appearance:
Tall, broad shouldered, sporting immaculate cavalry whiskers and a tousled mop of dark curls.
Usually to be found clad in riding boots, cavalry trousers, black silk shirt, red wool tunic, leather cavalry gauntlets and puffing on a cheroot, with a sabre and pistol sheathed at his hip, Flashman strives to cut a dashing figure at every opportunity!

Powers/Skills:
Former soldier, daring horseman, expert fencer and not a bad shot either.
Oh and damn handsome too, if a chap does say so himself!
Bloody lucky!: Somehow, ole Flashy always seems to come out of deadly situations smelling of roses, as his chest full of medals and long service history will attest. Although just how much of his reported heroics and victories were down to skill and sound judgement, remains a mystery.
Flashy ain't one for bragging, don'cha know!

Personality:
Gentleman, adventurer, former soldier and an all round stand up fellow of great dash and daring do!
FLashman is loud, proud and hearty, good on a horse, good with the bottle and handy with a blade.
Tally ho and into them chaps!

History:
Flashman, late of the elite 69th Hussars ("The Naughty Hellfires), a Cavalry regiment of no small renown, has now returned to civilian life looking to take up employment suitable to a dashing an heroic chap such as himself!
The Wolfs Den agency seems to offer just such a fresh challenge to suit an old soldier seeking fresh adventure, be it in hot pursuit of a miscreant, following the trail of a complex mystery of a daring charge up the stairs and a courageous duel to rescue the fair damsel in distress, ole 'Ace' FLashman is ready for the fray, medals and whiskers to the fore!

Name: Harry Harlan (otherwise known as Hare)
Age: 1 hare year old (20 in human years)
Gender: Male
Race: Fable

Tale: The Hare and the Tortoise

Appearance:

Hare’s an anthropomorphic animal and walks on his hind legs. He reaches the max height comes at about 1.7 foot, or around the average man’s calf. However, that’s never stopped him from living in what he sees as a giant’s world. With a slender built, his paws have pretty sharp claws that have torn through soft soil and grasses when needed. His irises are golden with a large pupil, nearly engulfing the color. Two long ears are perched upon his head with the right one appearing to have the tip ripped off. Though his pelt is forest brown and thin black streaks along the spine, there are hidden scars underneath.

Usually, he’s dressed in shortened breeches, a cotton shirt, and vest. On his head is his favorite flat cap to add a bit of human character to his appearance.

Powers/Skills:

~Powers~
These are from the story.

Sprint: Hare is able to sprint and move very fast in short time spans. His max speeds are up to about 45 mph in about 10 seconds or more. This is when he will drop to all four and goes into an out all out dash. This factor also includes his reflexes and movements.

Limitations: While Hare moves fast, he can’t keep it up forever. Eventually, like every mortal creature, his large stamina will run out causing him to become tired. To replenish and pace his use, Hare needs to be stationary to rest after strenuous activities.

Hearing: Hare has an extremely keen sense of hearing, mostly able to hear anything within a human's range but also includes higher pitches. Rotating his ears around, he could tell where the source originated if it is close enough.

Limitations: It can be difficult to pick out sounds in a crowded place or place filled with loud activity. Close and loud sounds can deafen him, causing him to be unable to hear until the ringing stops. That could take seconds to minutes depending on the duration of the sound. Some distances are beyond his hearing range which will be determined on a case by case situation with a focus on what’s right for the story.

(Based on him hearing the animals cheering Tortoise over the finish line and fact various stories put him at different closeness to the finish line, some requiring heighten hearing to notice. It’s also a natural creature feature.)

~Skills~
These were learned afterwards.

Mental Map of the city: During his time working as a messenger, Hare has committed this town to memory. He often found the fastest routes to travel. So when it comes to finding a location, he’s a decent animal to consult over it.

Parkour: His size is a challenge he’s had to overcome most of his life. In order to make it in a world built for bigger individuals, Hare’s had to learn how to use the environment to his advantage giving him excellent parkour skills. He’s not as good as Monkey from the West, but he prides himself when he's compared to other hares.

Kickboxing skills: After learning how squishy he is compared to most other creatures, especially bigger ones, he’s taken it upon himself to learn how to fight back. Namely in a way that requires a lot of ducking and weaving, then striking out at joints or fragile bones with his powerful legs. While he might not look like much, multiple strikes in the same place can at least cause severe bruising and occasionally break bones.

Personality:

Hare is a quick reacting and clever individual, but he has become more mature thanks to his life after the race. It humbled him a bit. However, there’s a still bitterness to the lost that created a caution toward strangers. Especially those that suddenly warm up to him and ask continual one-sided favors of him.

He holds a competitive nature and has high confidence in himself when it comes to sprinting. Challenge him to a race, he won’t be able to resist showing you that second place is where you belong. This can cause him to have an air of arrogance when he’s achieved victory. It is a double edge sword though because he can become his own worst critic when he loses, self-blaming for his own natural shortcomings and becoming surly toward others. Feeling he’s not worth calling them a friend.

One of Hare’s worse traits is hiding his flaws under his cocky and cheerful mask, even when in deep pain. Only those that are observant or know him well enough would be able to tell that he sometimes feels worthless because he isn’t a winner.

History:
Hare, like most of his family, was raised to become the world’s best sprinter even with the natural born gift. Since he was first able to run, he learned to sprint at high speeds from point A to point B over and over. Sometimes until his feet bled then repeated the next day. Eventually, he grew used to it since callouses grew over his pads.

So it wasn’t much of a surprise when his overconfidence got the better of him and at the age of 16 (hare age-6 months), tortoise challenged him to a race. Thinking it was a joke, he agreed to it. With the race scheduled tomorrow, Hare dashed off to get some practice in.

An hour before the race, Fox met him along the way with a sly grin. The cunning creature’s smooth words fed his ego and lead him to the nearest bar for a drink. They talked about the upcoming race for a bit, but Hare didn’t notice the subtle nod between Fox and the bartender.

He later learned that clever old Fox had drugged his drink. When the race location was determined, Hare naturally took off into the lead and outpaced the slower animal by a vast distance. That’s when the drugs began to take hold. HIs head throbbing and sleep edged into his focus. He thought it was best to take a quick nap before the tortoise caught up. He was so far ahead anyways, there was little chance he would lose. While his body purged the toxins from his system, the minutes turned into hours and he awoke to the sounds of animals cheering on the tortoise. Realizing what happened, Hare bolted up then tried to recover his lost lead.

It was too late. Tortoise crossed the finish line bring a painful dread into his heart, his mind numb to the reality. He was left standing there in shock while the other animals cheered and carried Tortoise away into the air.

Fury rippled through Hare as his figure raced around to block Fox from leaving. A confrontation happened with Hare threatening to reveal what happened, knowing that Fox drugged him on purpose to get the best pay off for bets placed. Fox shrugged, his teeth showing before he lashed out at Hare. The predator's teeth and claws ripped chunks of fur, finally ending in severing the tip of his ear. Frightened, all the sprinter could do was flee for safety.

Hare’s life went downhill from there. His family was ashamed at the fact he had been beaten by a simple tortoise, banishing him from home and any future association. Poor and homeless, Hare sought employment in Ravenport. He turned to the messenger service because they needed pretty fast runners to deliver packages, letters, and more to the residents.

It wasn’t the amount he was used to, but it kept him from becoming someone’s dinner at least. During the course of the job, he learned how to defend himself after someone attempted to ambush him along the way to his destination once. He considers himself rather squishy in conflicts especially after tangling with Fox in his early years.

Around his last birthday, he discovered his meager earnings weren’t enough to support him when his landlord approached him about his overdue rent. With little choice, he noticed the ad for new ‘pups’ at the Wolf’s Den Agency. He felt it was worth a shot.