This will be continually updated

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Name
King Willum Ayrshire Tricaelian, The Endless Reign

Race/Faction
The Kingdom of Tricaelia

Age
47

Description
An extremely tall and broad man, King Willum is 6' 5" and weighs about 260 lbs. He has light brown hair, and brown eyes. On top of that there is a sense of power around him. An imposing nose, and full lips surrounded by a goatee gives him a traditionally masculine appearance. Considered to be handsome by a vast majority of his kingdom, this king feels very self assured in his appearance.

Class
King of Tricaelia, Ruler of All

Motivation
King Willum isn't entirely certain what motivates him anymore. Other than a sense of superiority and a need to destroy that which denies him, he is mostly apathetic in life. Though growing his children into the most powerful leaders of their time has become a near obsession for the man, despite not knowing why.

History
Tricaelia's complicated history and lore will unfold as IC progresses.

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Strengths
A long time King is skilled in a silver tongue. Whether to be a sharp razor or a sweet treat, this man knows his way around words. Educated from an early age, there are few people who are as knowledgeable about the world as the King, and even fewer still who have his knowledge regarding magic and its various uses, he was a prodigy with blade and spell growing up, despite the prejudice his title saved him from open hostility about it. Lastly, this King seems to have some unnatural ability to be good at just about anything he picks up, no one is sure why, but it seems to be a trait of all of the Kings of Tricaelia, as the Right To Rule is shown, they rule over even the most inconsequential of things.

Weaknesses
King Willum is said to be without flaw or weakness, at least if anyone can hear you that is what you say. The man truly has a quick temper, and is incapable of "letting things go." He is impatient, and cares little for his people, you could even say that he is openly hostile towards them. Most importantly there is a hidden madness eating away at him slowly.

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What is the most important thing to know about your character?
Most importantly King of Tricaelia, Willum Ayrshire Tricaelian, the Endless Reign, is the most important thing to know.

What is your character's greatest flaw?
There is nothing that stops Willum from destroying everything that stands in his way. even if that is his family...or himself.

Why should your character be in a position to influence an entire country?
King Willum is in the most important position to influence an entire country. To question this power is to invite death to your household for tea.

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Name
King's Consort, Queen Erissabette Tricaelian, The Beautiful

Race/Faction
The Kingdom of Tricaelia

Age
It is impolite to ask a lady her age!

Description
Slender and delicate in appearance, it is unknown why but the Queen has adopted a more traditional appearance since ascending to her position, though she has worked hard to encourage the ladies of her court to wear more pleasing attire, stating that she chooses the appearance for personal reasons.

Class
Queen of Tricaelia, King's Consort

Motivation
Queen Eris is publicly motivated to provide the best for her children. her personal motivations are a secret she holds tight to her chest.

History
Tricaelia's complicated history and lore will unfold as IC progresses.

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Strengths
A diplomat naturally, the Queen has spent years learning how to walk among people of all types and make more friends than enemies along her path, though at times she chooses to antagonize and get the same results, she seems wise beyond her years, and is is unknown how good she is at divining the truth and information she shouldn't know, but tends to have an eclectic mix of knowledge that most couldn't keep up even when they have trained for it.

Weaknesses
Queen Eris loves her children to the ends of the world, unfortunately this blinds her to any faults they might have. She is also easily manipulated through them. She is trapped in a loveless marriage that was once the world to her, leading to a depression she struggles with at times, going so far as to force herself to face her husband and try to get the feeling for him back but cannot. This stays her hands when she knows the truth.

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What is the most important thing to know about your character?
Queen Eris cares for the people, but is hampered by her husband.

What is your character's greatest flaw?
Queen Eris' secrets hold her in a tightly clenched fist.

Why should your character be in a position to influence an entire country?
Queen Eris is the Queen of her country and is the closest advisor to the Queen. While she does not agree with his plans, she does help him despite her misgivings.

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Name
Unknown to outsiders

Race/Faction
The Ouroboros

Age
Born 267 years ago.

Description
Unknown

Class
Magic Worker

Motivation
Revenge is both the source of her strength, and her last remaining motivation in life is to see the throne fall.

History
Unknown

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Strengths
Unknown

Weakness
Unknown

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What is the most important thing to know about your character?
Her identity

What is your character's greatest flaw?
Revenge is the only thing she can think about, she is driven to find it no matter the cost.

Why should your character be in a position to influence an entire country?
She has been influencing this country for over 200 years. She knows what she is doing to some extent.

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Name
The Vanguard

Race/Faction
Soldiers tasked with protecting the throne

Age
Founded 356 years ago

Motivation
To protect the royal throne and the country as a whole.

History
The Vanguard has been around for several hundred years, and to do their history justice would take more time than available to describe. Some of the most important events however are these:
In the beginning, the Vanguard was a small guild devoted to being highly skilled mercenaries who worked out of Tricaelia, however in their 15th year of founding the then King, King Byron Reise Tricaelian, hired them to act as bodyguards to his daughter Princess Ameliadae, who was considered the most beautiful woman in her time, from being kidnapped by a group of renegades during a rebellion. After protecting her for 16 years faithfully, King Byron rehired them as the personal bodyguards for the entire royal family.
20 years later, and the group had grown into the military during the war with Druitar. Their abilities on the battlefield had thrown everyone into madness. After destroying the front lines they began to give Tricaelia the upper hand leading to the first signing of the peace with Druitar and Tricaelia, Queen Ameliadae being extremely proud of her warriors and bestowing on them lands and influence above most of the present forces and guilds. After being elevated in such a way they began recruiting people directly from the military and the provost's (to clarify, the police.) and rotating them between whatever war front (if applicable) and patrolling the streets. Unlike most elite groups they did not prevent commoners from entering their group, however the prejudice did exist and the majority of individuals remained nobles' second sons or the lower houses.
For the next 200 years the Vanguard held up as the strongest force on Vraca (the continent this takes place in) and have only increased the rigor of training and expectation. At this time, there is no known force that is more powerful.

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Strengths
The Vanguard are an elite force of swordsmen and shield-bearers, experienced fighters who know both the front lines of war, and patrol in the mean streets of the poorest neighborhoods. On top of that, they are trained in disaster relief and first aid, they are the first teams sent out in reaction to national emergencies. A select few are trained in counter measures of magic work and know most of the common ways of preventing or subverting magic.

Weaknesses
The Vanguard tends to follow the King blindly. Some are steadfastly loyal and unquestioning towards the king, some are more aware of the consequences of that mindset. They are also prejudiced against magic users on a more general level, which pits them against most magical groups and guilds.

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What is the most important thing to know about your Faction?
The Vanguard is the King's personal bodyguards and attack dogs. They do not hesitate when involving their duty. Each one of these men are extremely capable powerhouses in their own regard.

What is your Faction's greatest flaw?
They follow the King without hesitation or question. While the people who are a part of the Vanguard are not evil, they commit acts that would be recognized as such if not for their protection from moral questioning by those who are dead.

Why should this Faction be in a position to influence an entire country?
The Vanguard is the elite force belonging directly to the throne. They influence the country through defense of their king and domination of their enemies through their king's commands.

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Name
The Veiled Ones

Race/Faction
Shrikanti/Mistos

Age
Unknown, but it has lasted much longer than Tricaelia.

Motivation
To remove Tricaelia's control from the deserts of their homeland and more specifically out of Laralel the Pearl by the Ocean.

Description
A race of people currently living in the Desert to the West of the Kingdom, with the majority of their people living in Laralel, The Pearl by the Ocean. They're a mostly nomadic tribe, however, they have 3 major cities. They are traders with an unknown amount of wealth. Sometimes an over-abundance. Sometimes they cannot feed their children. They travel throughout the Lands and trade with different peoples. Their weaving is considered extremely valuable and the Court Ladies in Tricaelia compete to have the cloth. However, they have their own fighting and magic systems. They use a curved sword and a form of martial arts that is based on dance movements to strike the enemy down. They are fast and graceful. Men become warriors. Their women become witches. their magic is curses, minor healings, and drawing water up from the ground or out of the air. They work in groups, no single Witch will attempt to take a group of enemies down, however, they could. (If you want to play a male who uses magic or female who uses a sword that is not forbidden but they'd be kind of an outcast to society at large).
They worship Sol, the Life Giver and Death Bringer. Shrikant, Desert wind. Macea, the lady of the Oasis. Basic religious ideology is that Sol is neither male nor female, but the creator of Shrikant and Macea who came together and gave birth to the world at large.
There is some sexism within their culture however, they have female tribal leaders and the Witch covens have power throughout their people.

History
Unknown, as they have little to no written history.

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Strengths
A hardy people who know suffering, but have not fallen to it. They are warriors who know how to go days in the worst of conditions, without food or water, and still fight at the end of it. Mothers who can feed their children with nothing but sand to see for miles. But they are also merchants and traders, knowing the value of things in an almost intrinsic way. They also have a rich oral tradition, though they do have writing even if not everyone knows how to write.

Weaknesses
They are extremely insular, and have an us versus them mentality. Anyone who does not fit the mold is considered an enemy and will be held at arms length. They are poor more often than rich, so their city is literally built from canvas and twine, their people hunger and knowledge is scarce and is considered a valuable commodity to the point that individuals do horde it at the cost of others' loss.

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What is the most important thing to know about your Faction?
The Veiled ones are a under-estimated group because of their poor conditions, most do not know the exact power they hold. Very few enemies have survived angering these people, and they will show everyone how they can bite back harder than they were bit.

What is your Faction's greatest flaw?
Their insular nature makes trade, their livelihood, much more difficult than it needs to be. Unlike most groups that deal with barter and goods they can't open their arms to new peoples and short themselves in the long run. To survive this mentality must change.

Why should this Faction be in a position to influence an entire country?
They are not quite in the most prime position to influence anyone outside of their own lands. However their interests in Tricaelia are purely related to getting Tricaelia OUT of their lands, and they can do that with a vengeance.

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Name
The Ouroboros

Race/Faction
Mystic cannibalistic wizards

Age
Founded 290 years ago.

Description
An organization that is held to be myth by most, few believe in their existence, and of those who do believe they exist even fewer believe the stories about cannibalism and leader who has lived for the entirety of it's existence. Even fewer believe that they are capable of instigating a war between Tricaelia and them thinking they are to weak to do such a thing. They are shrouded in mystery and speculation, but what is known about them rivals expectations. The Ouroboros have a hierarchical order.

Scales = Outer defense/first layer of security. Generally weak or non magic users who aren't aware they are part of Ouroboros. Bandits, thieves, and small gangs that act as the footsoldiers and scouts.

Bones = the support. Healers, or merchants who support the organization through various actions.

Liver = The individuals tasked with the dirty work. THey clean up the messes and deal with internal conflicts. The cleaners and internal affairs for the operation

Heart = The instinct and emotional driven members. Some of the most powerful are located here. However, they are young or inexperienced. Some have been driven insane by the abilities of the Ouroboros.

Throat = The orators, and "voices" of the group. They strike the deals, they instigate war, they know what to say when to say it, and who to say it to.

The Teeth = 32 members of offensive powerhouses who's positions can only be lost through death. Even if they betray the organization (which wouldn't happen.) They would remain as a Tooth of the Ouroboros, however....the liver might just have a nice little meal later that evening.

The Eyes and The Ears = A four-member team acting as the knowledge gatherers. They are the greatest diviners and spies. Each takes the right or left position one eye and one ear. One skilled in the physical, one in the magical. However, do not underestimate any of them. They're all powerful by themselves.

The Brain = The defacto leader of the organization. She holds all knowledge and controls all actions. She is immortal in thought and deed. Infallible and perfect. However, she is endlessly hungry and incapable of self-control. She is held in check by the Head (The combined power of The Teeth and The Eyes and Ears.) and tempered by the Heart.

The Tail is a core knowledge in the Ouroboros in the ranks from Liver up through Brain. We consume ourselves until the end of time, to be reborn anew in shapes we never knew. All can rise, and All can fall.
Not one member can remain where they are indefinitely, and more importantly...The Head's duty is to watch over the rest of the Ouroboros util the end of time. Not one member is without value, all will take their turn in the Stomach.

The Stomach = A group removed from the hierarchy of the organization. They prepare the individuals so that specific skills, knowledge, or mental states can be drawn out of the flesh and be imbued into the bodies of those to take their place. A member of the Ouroboros will eventually become the meal of Ouroboros, and the Brain is one who has devoured each and every position and has grown to know all of the Ouroboros and lived the lives of a Thousand Men. But even she will fall to the blades of the Stomach.

Motivation
To get revenge on Tricaelia and their throne in particular, to bring Tricaelia into a state of chaos

History
The Ouroboros are a very mysterious and isolated people. More will be revealed as IC develops.

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Strengths
As powerful magic users they have collected, through various means, one of the most vast collections of magical and historical knowledge. On top of that, while specific individuals within the order are not immortal their knowledge and skills are not lost, just passed on to the next to take their place. With some of the best information gathering techniques currently available to them, they are more aware of movements by their enemies than those enemies could expect.

Weaknesses
On the downside, as powerful magic users, they are weak when it comes to physical actions. While they can use their magic to sort most of these types of problems, magic does have its limits and they can't reach beyond those limits. ON top of that they've learned to value the life of humans lowly, including their own, believing that their "reincarnation" is a path to eternal life, which leads to them taking risky steps they otherwise shouldn't. Most importantly, they can not find common ground with the people and without that, they'll only ever be half successful in their endeavors.

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What is the most important thing to know about your faction?
Not only are most of the stories about them true, some are not deep enough to really explain the situation clear enough.

What is your faction's greatest flaw?
They are monsters in thought and deed however they do believe that if Tricaelia loses power they can place a new power into the throne and "fix" everything that was done wrong by the Tricaelian kings.

Why should your faction be in a position to influence an entire country?
They have been scheming, plotting, and infiltrating the kingdom for a long time. They worked for the position to influence that kingdom.

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Name: The Woodsmen

Race/Faction: The Kingdom of Tricaelia

Age: 300 years

Description: The Woodsmen is a guild essentially of scouts/spies, and keeping the peace. Despite its long lasting presence, it has remained relatively small because of how they operate. However the size of the guild is unknown to anyone. Even the king. It’s also rumored other branches of the guild have gone out, and they operate worldwide.

Motivation: They look to the future of the kingdom, all they do is in service to that goal.

History: The Woodsmen’s history is covered with mystery, no one really remembers how they came to be, But the only thing known for fact is they started in Tricealia. They keep meticulous records of everything that happens in the kingdom. This vault, which holds all this knowlege is unknown to anyone but a handful of higher ranked Woodsmen. They trade knowledge often with other branches around the world. They have a headquarters somewhere outside of the capital.

Strengths:

With three hundred years of making connections and keeping meticulous records, they almost always have leverage over some Lord or another.

Their abilities to keep secrets on their numbers and whereabouts and operations makes them a dangerous group because of the unknown factor.

They are legendary archers, and masters of stealth.

Weakness:
Because their secrecy, they've gotten a dark reputation as black magic Sorcerers. Most of the commoners and lords fear them because of that. While it can be considered a strength, it does make it hard to gain trust at times.

What is the most important thing to know about your guild?

If you make a friend with a Woodsman, you make a friend with the entire guild.

What is your guild's greatest flaw?

Their secrecy hinders their growth, and building trust.

Why should your guild be in a position to influence an entire country?
With connections and access to entire libraries of info on everyone of importance. Having the Woodsmen guild on your side almost always guarantees success.

Faction: Royal Family

Age: Twenty-first year.

Description: Prince Aaron is an immense young man of strapping build, with a round head and slightly pudgy features. He near matches his father the king's height and weight, but that is where the similarities between father and son end. Aaron is round of face and dark of hair, with a clean shaven chin making him look young, but professional. His body is supple and strong, but not without a slight girth that makes him seem even larger and more imposing to most. He dresses in fine hunting garb, gilded armor, and colorful outfits both vainglorious and sturdy. At his hip are an ever present dirk and longsword, ornate in a wealth of garnets and gold. The Prince carries himself with all the swagger of his station and youth, his stride confident and sure, his shoulders poised in good posture.

Class: Crown Prince, Lord Commander of the Vanguard

Motivation: Aaron is to one day be King Willum the Second! He is the rightful heir to the Kingdom and the current Lord Commander of the Vanguard. He holds a deep vested interest in maintaining the Kingdom so there might be lands and lords and ladies to rule over once his father passes. He also desires to grow his own influence in court, and prove himself a worthy heir to his father.

History: All the bells in the city rang for Aaron's birth. The crones wept joyously, the men shouted in eager admiration, and all the people marveled and welcomed the young ruler into the world. Or so it is said. Whether the people truly danced from dawn to dusk and feasted for ten days and nights, or muttered a sullen, "who cares?" before shuffling about their work Aaron does not concern himself over it. He was born and named Crown Prince Willum Aaron Tricaelian II, destined ruler of all the land, and from that day he was given the reins to power. He was born to rule, and Aaron has waited more than a score of years for his chance to take the throne, and he continues to wait, bowing to his stubborn father's wishes and counting the days before the crown is laid upon his noble brow.

Even from young age Aaron seemed destined to rule. He had to learn his place, and his lessons just like any other boy, but from the very start he spoke with an innate authority, commanding both servants and men to do his bidding from the moment he could talk. His sharp wit, and blunt but intelligent nature was attractive to the other young children of the nobles and courtiers, and he never lacked friends, if that is the proper term for it. They were more his lackeys and entertainers than not else, tagging along because he told them too. Prince Aaron was always above them, beyond them, their better and leader. For this Aaron never had a proper companion, someone who he held as his equal, whose trust he kept and whose friendship was sacred.

Later in life Aaron became a huntsman. In his adolescent years he grew to be a competent tracker and hunter, able to knock and loose an arrow in good form, and thrust a spear into a charging boar with ease. His father always said if he had ever become as capable with a sword as he was at goring a boar with a spear, he would be the finest swordsman in the world. Instead Aaron focused his efforts in those years into falconry, tracking, and riding becoming a master at all three.

In recent years Aaron has possessed less and less time to indulge in his passions, being dragged by matters of state into work of a more diplomatic and militaristic nature. On his twenty-first birthday he was named Lord Commander of the Vanguard, given charge of all the forces of the kingdom's elite fighters, whose competence in battle far exceeded his own. Aaron wasn't entirely out of his element in a position of high command, though when sparring on the training field himself Aaron's weaknesses presented themselves in full. Fortunately for him his position availed him to the intricacies of supply, ceremony, and troop movement and less with swordsmanship and jousting.

Strengths: Aaron is a professional huntsman, there is no doubt about it. When it comes to spear and arrow his aim is true, and his thrust strong. When it comes to trailing a quarry on a misty night there is no better man to track the beast. Furthermore he excels in communication, diplomacy, and debate, showing himself to be a learned man of quick wits. He even enjoys the complications and power of leadership, accounting for all possibilities, ad thinking strategically. Aaron is a master of intrigue and maneuvering pawns to get what he most desires.

Weakness: Upon the tourney fields where bold men clash in a feat of arms Aaron is more apt to make a fool of himself, or be bested by a untested knight in the tilts, or a man-at-arms in the melee. Should Aaron ever engage against a competent swordsman and not a levied peasant in true battle he would find himself hard pressed to survive. The brutal roughness of combat was never his forte. In addition the crown prince has an acquired taste for the comforts of his station, and thoroughly avails himself in lavish fashion. In the grimy, realistic world he is out of place, and awkward, and when in a position of less importance he is always unsure of how to handle himself. Also, Aaron is not a charismatic or likable person. Most folk try to suck up to the noble prince, and as such he is unused to opposition from anyone other than his father. And beyond all that, there is an illness of the mind that plagues Aaron like a dark shadow. Gnawing at the corners of sanity, and eating away at his humanity, slowly, but surely consuming him.

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What is the most important thing to know about your character?
Prince Aaron is the crown prince, and deeply desires his birthright, and all the glory and honor and power that accompany it.

What is your character's greatest flaw?
He lacks a true friend. Someone who he could trust absolutely, and he is incapable of gaining one.

Why should your character be in a position to influence an entire country?
He is, the second most important person in the country.

The cold northern winds followed Prince Willum Aaron Tricaelian, the second of his name and his five companions down from the moorland and into the lows of Castaroc. Their horses’ breath rose in great plumes of steam, their iron shod hooves rattling on the stones hidden in the short grass. Prince Aaron sat comfortably upon a silver hunting mare, rising and falling with practiced grace as the beast trotted across the open ground. He was dressed in fine blue riding robes, in stark contrast to the other five. They were dressed in practical battle gear. Mail and plate and leather, with sharpened swords at their hips. On either side of Aaron rode two young squires, lads only slightly younger than him. One carried the proud banner of the King, and the other clutched polearm of olive wood, with a white flag dancing in the wind.

Just behind them rode two knights of the Vanguard and a mounted lancer. The knights were older men, with grey mustaches and silver hair, but the scars of battle were plain upon them, and they rode with a ruthless efficiency they marked them as dangerous men.

Aaron nodded approvingly, these two were no fools. Trusted consorts of the king and the veterans of countless conflicts. Sir Brennick Laysn himself was especially so, his resume chock full of noble deeds. He was named the Kings personal guard on numerous occasions, and he led the center charge in the battle of Wary Hill, singlehandedly turning the tide of a lost-thought skirmish. The other was Sir Alyan Nocks, a wise man who held the ear of any moot with his reason and wisdom. Should Aaron ever falter, he could count on the practical council of the nobleman.

Reining in his horse Aaron bid they stop, raising a gloved hand as seven riders rode to meet them. For the first time since the meet was arranged two days prior Aaron felt a stir of unease deep in his gut. These were hard men, dressed in full armor with spears and battle axes and war hammers. Not swords and banners as he expected. He felt almost naked amongst them, without any armor to speak up, and only an ornate ceremonial sword at his hip. Even a hauberk of mail would have been better than the linen finery he’d dawned in hopes to impress and intimidate Lord Royce.

The small line of opposing riders halted before Aaron’s own. The two parties sized each other up, and it could be seen in a second whose was more prepared for bloodshed should battle begin. Glancing over his shoulder Aaron saw the line of armored Vanguard horse waiting some nine hundred yards away, lances and armor glimmering in the midday light. They were ready should they be needed, but how long would it take heavy horse to charge all that way? He hoped not long.

Sir Brennick perhaps sensed his anxiety and leaned over his steed’s neck to whisper in Aaron’s ear. “Show not your fear my Prince, these are ruthless men, and Lord Royce is not among them as promised. If they sense your dread, they might even risk themselves in a vain attempt at glory by cutting off the head of our dragon.”

“You go too far sir.” Aaron snapped, sitting straighter in his saddle. “I do not fear these men!” He said it too loudly, and one of the knights facing him sniggered, spinning a mace and chain loosely in his gauntleted hand. Sir Brennick nodded sagely and withdrew, his hand resting on his sword hilt, eyeing the man who’d sniggered with ill-disguised malice.

One knight kicked his horse forward, closing the short gap between them so he could speak more easily. He was a wizened man, but sinewy and with an unsung toughness about him. Aaron did not recognize the sigil on his breastplate, but the charging rhino with the bloody horn on a field of violet made him more intimidating then Aaron would’ve ever thought possible of someone so old.

“Where is your salute sir knight?” One of Aaron’s squires challenged, raising higher the King’s banner. “You approach Prince Willum, of the royal house of Tricaelian! Lord Commander of the Vanguard, and the Crown Prince to the throne, to whom you have sworn oaths of fealty.”

“Indeed,” cried the knight, his voice gravely and deep. He threw up his hand, raising his visor with a sharp clink of a knightly salute. “I am sir Grent, retainer of Lord Royce upon whose noble lands you’ve marched this army.” Sir Grent spoke of the host to Aaron’s flank. One hundred knights of the Vanguard, twice as many mounted lances and near three thousand men-at-arms, all armed and ready for a prolonged siege.

Knowing it was his time Aaron spurred his mare, riding her forward until he stood less than a meter in front of the Sir Grent, just out of range of the wicked looking spiked hammer that rested easily in his lap. “Your lord has broken his vows, and fled the king’s justice raising his levies and fortifying his castle against pursuit.” Aaron recited, the memorized speech flowing awkwardly off his tongue. Reaching into his saddle bags Aaron produced a scroll, sealed in wax and marked with the royal sigil. “He has named me Lord Commander of the Vanguard and his armies, and has charged me to bring due justice to Lord Royce and all his household and all vassals who interfere. Furthermore, all those who took part in the slaughter the Vanguard knights of Sir Catin, and Sir Howfield who sought the king’s justice before I, shall be executed as traitors. All the lands, holdings and incomes of Lord Royce and the appropriate vassals shall be appropriated wi-”

“Ye hear that lads?” Sir Grent interrupted, turning back to speak to his six fellows. “The little rooster said all those who partook, that means he wants to execute us for stringing up those cocky fools who marched in here before demanding our lord’s head. I say we must’ve pricked the king’s royal behind then. Mayhap even killing his favorite noblemen if he cares to hunt us for that little thing.”

Aaron flushed an angry red, his teeth grinding in fury. Who was this knight to speak to him in such crass manner? Did he desire death so? “Still your tongue you ignoble sir.” He growled, wishing he could strike the old man in his yellowed teeth. “I am the Crown Prince, you would do well for yourself to listen as I state the terms, it is possible for you to be shown mercy.”

“Quite right boy, finish your foolish rambling whenever you like.”

“Excuse me!?”

“You have babble and boring nonsense to say, you may finish.” Sir Grent’s eyes were piercing, and Aaron reached for his sword.

“My Prince!” Sir Alyan warned. “We ride under the olive banner of truce! For honor’s sake control yourself!” Seething Aaron released his sword hilt taking ahold of his reins once more. The old sir Grent smiled, he hadn’t flinched in the slightest and he was watching Aaron with deadly eyes. Aaron could only see red.

“I was made aware we would speak with Lord Royce directly... Sir.”

“Lord Royce is six years old.” Grent replied, his voice cold as ice. “You murdered his father in the capitol, and hung his head on a spike. And now you demand the corpse of an innocent child as well. From the moment I heard such wickedness I knew it was my time, and those brave defenders knew it was theirs as well. For once I might speak true to you royal peacocks, you craven kings behind your great armies and walls and spells. I spit in your direction, your father is filth, and your mother a whore, and you child, are rooster; not but a crowing bastard in lion’s fur. Might you rot in the deepest pits of hell. As regent of these lands I reject your demands, any and all of them. You shall have the young Lord Royce over my corpse, and the corpses of all the noble men who still have honor in their hearts. I assure you, prince, Lord Royce shall be bought by a steep price in the blood of your men, and perhaps I might win him his justice with your head sent back to your father in a basket!”

Unable to control himself further Aaron drew and slashed. Sir Grent looked nonplused leaning back in his saddle, the steel tip of Aaron’s blade leaving a thin scratch on his chest plate. Then as Aaron’s blade swung wide, he reposted with all the power and grace of years of battle training, bringing his hammer down upon Aaron’s horse’s skull. The mare convulsed, its head exploding into gore and filth as Aaron was thrown from his seat. Behind them a great roar erupted as one hundred Vanguard knights surged down the slope, a hundred war lances dipping in the charge. Just behind Aaron the squire and knight quintet drew swords and leveled banners, spurring their horses forward to protect their prince. Alone, unsupported by any oncoming charge of mounted knights of their own the six knights who’d accompanied Grent advanced into Aaron’s tiny honor guard to aid their ancient leader, waving maces, axes, and swords overhead as they charged.

In a moment all was chaos.

Aaron was surrounded by a forest of stamping hooves as the twelve men battled. five desperate to defend their unhorsed prince, seven intent upon slaying him in a suicidal search for justice. Aaron could not tell what was happening, whether his men were winning or dying. He tried to pick himself up out of the grass, his head ringing. He was blinded by his mare’s blood. Close by a man screamed, something thudded heavy next to him. Someone shouted his name.

Wiping the gore from his eyes Aaron found he was lying next to his squire, the lad who held olive branched flag. The lad’s face had been smashed in, eviscerated by a mace. Reaching out Aaron dragged the boy’s body close, prying the banner from his death grip. The olive wood shaft was tipped with a wicked spike, ornate and impractical but a weapon that could unseat a mounted warrior all the same. Struggling to his feet Aaron tried to assess the situation, seeing in an instant that the battle went against him. Sir Brennick was facing two men at once, his sword flashing expertly as he parried and thrust. Sir Alyan was fighting Sir Grent, locked together they rode about in sharp circles each trying to knock the other from their saddle. The remaining squire was doing well for himself, having killed a man on the charge, but was now harried by a knight near twice his age and size. The lancer was dead, a dagger plunged deep into his eye.

Sir Grent’s sharp gaze found Aaron, standing afoot, with not but a short-spiked banner to protect himself. Parrying a heavy blow from Sir Alyan, Sir Grent swung around the other’s guard, slamming his hammer hard into the old man’s back. Sir Alyan convulsed, a confused expression on his face before he toppled from his saddle to lay still face down in the grass. Digging his spurs into his horse’s flank Sir Grent’s destrier reared and charged, the knight’s war hammer raised high to bring crashing down on the young prince’s head.

For a moment the world seemed to grow still, as if everything moved in slow motion. Aaron braced his feet, grasping the olivewood banner like a hunting spear, imagining the horse a fearsome boar, and Sir Grent, he was the beast’s salivating tusks. When the time came, and the monster was but a hairsbreadth from ripping the Prince apart Aaron crouched low and thrust. His strike was true, his strike was strong, and the olivewood snapped asunder. Grent’s hammer swished past his head, missing by inches and the old knight was thrown from his horse high into the air as the animal screamed and died. Aaron collapsed onto his back once more his hands splintered from the explosion of wood. Something hard pressed into his back. He rolled over discovering his sword, lying where he’d dropped it. Taking up the weapon he jumped back onto his feet. The battle was far from over.

Just in front of him Sir Grent staggered to gain his footing. Somehow, he’d kept ahold of his hammer and was already charging the prince. Struggling to comprehend how the old man had recovered from being thrown so quickly Aaron back peddled. Desperately knocking aside Sir Grent’s swings. The man attacked like a furious bear pummeling Aaron to the ground, snapping his ornate sword and knocking the useless hilt from his grasp. Aaron threw up a hand, shocked by the fury of this man; death seemed so very close. “Stop, no! I yield!” But there was no mercy in Sir Grent’s eyes.

For a moment the hammer raised, Sir Grent stared down at Aaron, helpless and at his mercy. He readied himself to deal the death blow. Aaron could only stare, his mouth dry with fear. Then the next moment in a rush of steel, flesh, and blood Sir Grent was gone.

The Vanguard had arrived!

Charging into the melee the hundred knights killed the remaining enemy in seconds, their lances punching through armor and mail, their horses riding down those who tried to flee. One knight, an older man by the name of Sir Iben leapt from his horse rushing over to where Prince Aaron sat, his eyes wide as saucers. The knight began pulling off Aaron’s clothes, patting the young prince down looking for any injuries. “My prince, my prince!” He cried, his eyes showing the terror he felt. “You are drenched in blood!”

“It is not my own,” Aaron assured him, stopping the knight from disrobing him utterly. “I do not hurt,” that was untrue. Everything hurt. His hands were filled with olivewood splinters, his arms were numbed from Sir Grent’s blows, his head rang from where he’d struck it when he’d fallen from his horse. Sir Iben was right to be worried though, Aaron was drenched in blood, his fine robes stained near black from its excess. A parting gift from the dying horses, not his own.

“Let us return to camp...” Aaron said, wincing as the knight helped him to his feet. “We shall continue the siege on the morrow.”

Name: Annabelle Tyler

Race/Faction: The Peasants' Army

Age: 23

Description: A well-constructed description totaling five sentences and a picture. Preferably a realistic one, however, if you can't find one you like animation is tolerable. If you would prefer to use just written description this is acceptable, just be certain to use two well-written paragraphs to describe your character. I should have some form of mental image for this character.

"Class": Are you a warrior? A mage of some form? Just a regular citizen dragged into a cesspit of a political drama?

Motivation: Annabelle wants to erase anything royal and aristocratic from Tricaelia and turn it into a republic.

History: Annabelle is a freeholder, a peasant who owns her own land and is not bound to nobles through rent (tenants) or serfdom (serfs). Tylers are well respected in their home village and generations of Tylers have acted as Sheriffs. In fact the current Sheriff is Annabelle's older brother Sebastian.

But times are hard in Tricaelia to be a peasant, as the nobles become greedier and more debauched. More and more tenants are evicted from their households for being unable to pay their ever increasing rents, and serfs are forced to endure worsening humiliations at the hands of the nobles who are supposed to protect them. Freeholders aren't untouched either, as the royal court increases their taxes and declares other laws. Last year Tylers were forced to demolish their mill, when it was declared that only nobles were allowed to own mills.

What is your past? What are you running from? What are you trying to save? Or destroy? Is your background noble? Common? Who are you and what makes you, you?

Strengths: 3-5 Strengths of your character. Personal, physical, or mental.

Weakness: 3-5 Weaknesses your character possesses. Personal, physical, or mental.

What is the most important thing to know about your character?

What is your character's greatest flaw?
Annabelle has a very black and white View of the world. Everything for her is either/or, and there is no middle ground.

Why should your character be in a position to influence an entire country?
Nobles were supposed to protect the commoners, not threaten them. They don't see common folk as people, only as annoyances to ignore at best, toys to play with until they break at worst. Peasants don't need nobles making their lives hard. Tricaelia must be ruled by the commoners for the commoners.

One paragraph writing example of dialogue or interaction with another character plus a second paragraph writing example of combat. If your character is a non-combatant (i.e. specializes in healing) use whatever specialization that character would have for the second paragraph.