Personality: Light-hearted and kind, brave and couragious. When Bidzil sets his mind to doing something there is normally no stopping him. He can't turn a blind eye to what he sees as wrong and ends up getting involved in problems that are sometimes better left alone. For the ones that he cares for, he will fight until his dying breathe. Loves a good joke or pun. He also like to explore and doesn't mind a good fight.
Bio:
Bidzil is a young transcendent human that was found in Trantis. Bidzil only had one wing however, and this was the first time in history it has happened, the people of Trantis saw Bidzil as a bad luck charm. He was an orphan found left outside the guardhouse, no note or anything to tie him to any lineage. He was taught from old texts how to hide his wing, but being a transcendent, everyone still knew. Many other towns heard the news of a transcendent youth coming to Trantis and wanted to know more, but the town hid him in fear of the other towns reactions. When Bidzil got older, he would run around town and swim through the waters of trantis on his own, causing mischeif. He never hurt anyone, but could be seen as a bother sometimes. Bidzil got to know one of the guards, Millan, in town well enough to where he looked up to him like a father figure. Millan would tell him stories of grand adventures, especially one about a beautiful wish granting oracle, that he swore up and down was a true story. The man inspired Bidzil, even to the point of trying to become a guard himself as he got older. Although he was denied for not wanting to risk the death of a transcendent for whatever superstitious curse that may bring, the guard did teach him how to use various weapons. Bidzil took to the blade quite naturally, and became a competent sparring partner with the guards in town. Bidzil had started working odd jobs around town as well, trying to earn enough money for his own place. While successful, it amounted to a tiny hut on the shoreline, which Bidzil was more than happy with. On his birthday, The guard said the he had purchased a gift for Bidzil, but it got stalled in Salna. If he wanted, he could run and get it, and he should be able to make it back by the time his shift was over.
Bidzil eagerly went to Salna, about an hour or two's walk. He couldn't fly of coarse to only having one wing, or else he would have tried that. He picked up a package, not knowing what was inside the thin, long crate, and headed for home. The sky hard started turning darker, quite rapidly for it to be normal. Bidzil wasn't sure, but there was a dreadful feeling in the air as he picked up his pace. He ran full throttle to return home, only to arrive to a vast crater in the earth, the dirt black as night. The great lake that He had swam in for his whole life was completely empty, and the shattered remains of Trantis littered the lake bottom. There was not a soul in sight, no blood, but clothes blowing by in the wind, left behind by their owners. Bidzil ran to check the guard station on the coast. he kicked open the door to find just piles of gear and weapons where men once stood. And in the chair Millan would normally sit and used to tell him stories, was his usual red guard's cloak, the sword fallen on the ground still in it's sheath.
Bidzil could not take in what had happened, it made no sense, it was too much too fast. After mourning the loss of everything he ever knew, he took with him Millan's cloak and his sword. When he left the guard station he decided to open the gift Millan got for his birthday. In it, was another sword, similar to the guard's blade, yet customized to Bidzil's liking. Bidzil equipped both, creating a way to carry both sheathes for the blades, and headed back to Salna, to report the news. Salna, however, already had a messenger visit them it seemed. There was a crowd of people gathered around a wall wailing in anguish and fear. Ten dead guards laid in a pile, and on the wall, written in their blood, read this. "A new king rises. The Grandis Empire has returned"
The people of Salna already knew of the fate of Trantis. The messenger that had come to them told them as much, and warned them coming coming of a new king, to prepare to submit or be crushed like Trantis was. This enraged the guards in the area who then attacked the stranger only to be slaughtered. Once the messenger finished his sick message, he left. Bidzil stayed in Salna for a few days as a refuge, earning some money from some work, but the happy air of the city was completely dead, having lost their sister city and a portion of theirguardl guard. Bidzil ended up recalling the tale Millan used to tell him about the wish granting Oracle, and tried to find any information on it that he could. The librarian in the town shook their head at the request, but he still led him to some books on it. From what Bidzil was able to gather from the vague texts, there was something called the 'Vanishing Kingdom' that the oracle resided in, and it could only be summoned by first gathering the treasures of all the great nations and placing them on an alter. The Vanishing Kingdom will then visit Hitala, and will be stay for a week before leaving. The Oracle can grant any wish or give any knowledge to the ones who seek it, but all requests come at a price. From Salna, Bidzil traveled to Kalla village, where he thought would be a good place to start as any.
Abilities: Swordsmanship, Wing reveal/hide (though no flight), Transcendent energy attacks (when wing is revealed)
Extra notes: While well trained in swordsmanship and used to sparring with his towns guard, he has never had to actually take the life of someone before leaving for Kalla. Often when settling disputes, he strikes an opponent with the heavy sheathes like the Trantis guards are trained to do. The are able to do this by their weapons dual sheaths. One outer sheath that hold's the sword and sheath inside, and then the true sheath. The swords have a type of latch to keep them connected to their true sheaths, which are also made of a light metal material. The guards and Bidzil are trained to use the sheathed sword as effectively as a regular sword, thus once unsheathed, their skills with the blade become much faster. A blade with it's true sheath can still be lethal if used right.
Personality: Allanon is a pensive man having lived a life seeing the darker side of humanity he carries many of his decisions with a lot of weight. He is decisive and discerning. He appreciates the small joys in life whenever he can afford to. He very much likes to reminisce over his childhood as it was a simple time where his decisions had little impact over others lives. His word means everything to him.
Allanon grew up as a member of the wealthy Valentis family. He was the fourth son and grew up with less responsibility than his older brothers as they were the ones to take over the administrative work of their company. Early on he took a deep interest in swordsmanship and learned as much as he could from various tutors and mercenaries.
The day Allanon became an adult was supposed to be a celebrated day, however, his father and oldest brother had entirely unexpected plans. Debts were being called by the Calabris family, and instead of money they wanted Allanon. Apparently, his martial skills had caught the attention of their family head: Varic Calabris. If the Calabris family desired, the Valentis family could be completely wiped out by them, and Allanon knew this. This was the first time that he felt the burden of responsibility, although at the time he only felt trapped and betrayed.
Taken away from his life of freedom, he was brought to the household of the Calabris family and presented to Varic himself. Varic explained how he was seeking talented individuals to make an elite team to work exclusively for his family. Allanon would be one of seven, but first a six month intensive training session was required of all of them to test their potential. Allanon reluctantly agreed as he knew he had no real choice, and before long he had to forget his reluctance to survive the training.
He built a good relationship with each member of the team as they were sent on black ops missions for the Calabris family. Some were stealth retrieval while others were bloody executions. Each of them knew the price of failure. One member of the team: Marissa Faye was the beacon of light in their team. In spite of the often awful tasks they were sent to do, she kept their morale up. Allanon admired her for her attitude and as time passed they fell in love and eventually married. Instead of rings they had a matching pair of longswords made as a symbol of how they met.
At 40 came the worst betrayal. Considering them too old to be effective, Allanon’s team was executed by the Calabris family. At least they attempted to. A full platoon of mercenaries was hired to eliminate what had come to be known as the Ironblades. All government officials had been paid off to view them as criminals, and bounties were placed on each of their heads. The initial assault was defeated, but at the cost of two members of the Ironblades including Marissa. Her dying wish was for Allanon to do his best to create as much light as he could in this world, and he promised he would.
The Ironblades agreed to split up and go into hiding while making contact once a year to keep tabs. Over the next eight years two of the five remaining Ironblades were caught and slain. Allanon was the only one to remain in Portea the whole time. He started working as a vigilante and consultant for those in need in exchange for nothing.
Equipment: Matched Longswords: While his sword style is a single sword style he has kept Marissa’s golden blade with him as a reminder of his promise to her. They are enchanted so that so long as they are in close proximity to each other they will maintain and repair themselves.
Throwing Daggers: He has ten of these on a bandolier ready to throw as needed.
Abilities: Valentis Sword Style: A balanced single-sword style created by Allanon over his lifetime. It is renowned as one of the best sword styles in the world for many-on-one combat.
Stealth and Disguise: Many of Allanon’s operations required the use of stealth and disguise, and while it was not his primary role he learned many things from the now deceased Ironblade that was responsible for disguise.
Appearance Tiny Tynni's nickname is well earned. Standing at a little over five foot, she's won't be anyone's first pick for a basketball team. Look past her dwarven height, however, and you will see her lithe frame, her hardened abs and a fire burning fiercely in her emerald eyes. Her skin is as dark as the night, a colour her hair shares, to the point where if she stood outside on a starless night and shut her eyes, you would think she disappeared. Her nose is button-shaped and peppered with freckles, and her lips plump and cherubic, two humiliatingly adorable features on someone who wants to exude a ferocious persona.
In terms of clothing, Tynni prefers lighter leather armours like her mentor. Unlike Siiga, however, she doesn't wear them to distract, but to manoeuvre more easily and to prevent herself getting tired over long treks. When in her armour, she goes her hair back in either a ponytail or pigtails, but wears it long in civilian clothing. Either way, she has a ring of white war paint around her eyes, symbolic of her status as an apprentice in the Followers of Akko.
Personality: Tynni is an energetic, good natured young woman. No matter the weather, Tynni can be seen with a big smile on her face and a song in her heart. She can always see the light at the end of the tunnel, and she's got the willpower to push herself until she reaches it. Her relentless optimism can be a bit overbearing at times, but hey, someone has to stay optimistic when you're surrounded by cynical, defeatist bastards. Might as well be her, eh?
A tomboy at heart, Tynni sees nothing wrong having fun in the mud, and loves going for long runs and hikes up great hills. If she really likes you, she might even have a wrestle with you - she steadfastly refuses to duel people she sees as beneath her and is always seeking out the next big challenge. She respects strength, although she hates those that abuse their strength over others.
Tynni has a bad habit of overthinking things, interpreting even the most minor of things as evidence that someone utterly hates her, and if someone does hate her, she's willing to go to extreme lengths to patch that relationship up. She isn't easily embarrassed, but when she is, it stays with her for a very long time. Guilt over what happened to her mother and her abandoning of her father plagues her.
Bio: To fully understand how Tynni got to where she is today, one must consider who her father is. Soini Ahonen is the man. A mere peasant by birth, Soini established himself quickly as an individual of exceptional strength, working in his town's mill. He was said to be so strong, he could carry a full sack of grain as though it were full of feathers when he was only 14, and he only got stronger. At 18, he challenged a foreign knight to a fist fight and beat them without taking a single hit. At twenty three, he killed a bear with nothing more than his own two hands.
His feats of strength became well known throughout the community, and over time, he became a kind of unofficial knight, protecting his village and any villages nearby from every and all threats. Some began to whisper that he had been blessed by a god, others that he was a demigod. Young men, eager for fame and glory, came to him for instruction on how to fight as well as he did, and he taught them as best he could. The more he taught, and the more he achieved, the more his legendary status grew, and the more people came to him for help and guidance. By the time he was thirty, Soini had founded the group that was to earn him his most fame - the Followers of Akko.
The Followers were an ascetic lot. Soini was a religious man, and his faith strongly informed how he lead the Followers. They went around from village to village, doing everything they could to improve the lives of those they met. Followers were expected to take vows of poverty, taking only enough wealth to keep themselves fed, clothed and armed, giving the rest to the poor. Whether it was as simple as lending a hand to a farm or a mill, or something as serious as hunting down bandits and wild animals that were raiding the villages, Soini and his Followers were willing to carry it out.
It was through the Followers that Soini met Toini. Toini was a beautiful, compassionate woman with a religious fervour that rivalled Soini's and naturally, the two hit it off. Friendship turned to love. Love turned to marriage. And with marriage, there came children. Toini had four boys and two girls by the time she got pregnant with Tynni. But Tynni's pregnancy was not like the others. You see, Toini was 48 by the time she got pregnant with Tynni, and most doctors believed that she was barren. This surprise late pregnancy quickly took a toll on Toini's already worn body; migraines so bad they left her bed-bound, constant tiredness excarcebated by sleepless nights from the pain, morning sickness tinged with blood. When Soini called for a doctor, he was told that his wife's body simply could not handle another baby. It was suggested that the baby was aborted to save Toini's life
Soini and Toini both immediately rejected the idea. It didn't matter how difficult the pregnancy was, no amount of cajoling could convince the two to give up the baby. They were told that the baby could end up deformed, or possibly even dying, and that it would be more merciful to kill it now and save it future pain, but Toini had faith that Akko would never allow that.
One night, there was a fearsome thunderstorm. Despite her sickness, Toini, through sheer willpower, managed to clamber out of bed, put on her cloak and went out into the middle of the storm to pray. She stayed out there for hours in the rain and lightning, begging with Akko to show mercy on the child, to bless them and look after them no matter what happened to her.
Sadly, Soini's worse fears came to pass. The pregnancy was too hard, and the stress of actually giving birth proved too much; Toini died in childbirth. And yet, her child lived. In fact, she seemed perfectly normal. What everyone expected to be a deformed and crippled child was born perfectly healthy, of a good weight and size, breathing normally... Just normal. Soini named the baby Tynni, after his wife who gave up her life so the baby could live.
Soini vowed that Toini's sacrifice would not be in vain. He swore to look after that child and to make her someone that Toini could be proud of. He also swore to never tell the child of how her mother actually died, and invented a story that Toini actually died of sickness some time after the birth, lest the guilt cause Tynni undue pain. He knew it wasn't her fault. It was no one's fault but his own.
As a child, Tynni lived a blessed life. Despite his vow of poverty, Soini treated his young daughter as best he could. And Tynni grew up into a very precocious and pretty little girl. Those who knew about Toini's prayer to Akko truly believed that the Goddess had given Tynni her blessing. She had admirers in every village. Her tutors said she was one of the brightest little girls they'd ever had the pleasure of teaching. She even inherited some of her father's strength, sometimes fighting boys two or three years older than her and still winning.
Soini never his his intention for his daughter to join the Followers. He trained her personally in a variety of weapons, and taught her skills such as medicine and construction in preparation for her eventually membership. Perhaps, he hoped, she would be willing to lead them after he was gone.
But Tynni never wanted to join the Followers. She knew that her dad wanted her to lead them, and she couldn't stand the pressure of being seen as "blessed by Akko". She certainly didn't feel very blessed. The Followers would always treat her weird, never daring to look in her eye or say anything that might possibly be concieved as offensive, and that made it hard for her to have close friends. Even other kids her age seemed deferential and would walk on eggshells around her, for fear of bringing down the wrath of Akko, or, more pressingly, the wrath of Soini. A position as a leader seemed even more lonely, and she just wanted out.
On her 18th birthday, Akko was initiated into the Followers. She passed the entrance test with flying colours, though every instinct in her body told her just to throw it, just so she didn't have to put up with any more of those subservient, downcast looks, but she didn't have it in her to disappoint her father. This was when Soini made his biggest mistake.
Sensing his daughters apprehension, Soini took her aside to talk with her about how she felt. The talk swiftly devolved into a yelling match. Soini was adamant that Tynni would join, and lead, the Followers, but Tynni was just as adamant that she would never lead them. In his fury, Soini accidentally revealed the one thing he thought he would never tell his daughter: that her mother died giving birth to her. In his enraged mind, he hoped it would guilt Tynni into joining. He told her that if she didn't join, then her mother would have died for nothing.
Tynni felt guilty, alright. But not the way that Soini hoped. Her mother died giving birth to her? She was a killer! A cursed child! How could she show her face around the Followers again, knowing that the blood of her mother was on her hands!? Terror overtook her. She didn't deserve to be around her family, not after what she'd done, what she'd taken from them. Mid-argument, she fled the safety of her home and ran off into the night. In his youthful days, Soini would have chased after her. He may even have caught her. But the Bear was old and tired, and he could do no more than shout after his fleeing daughter, ultimately powerless to stop her.
Tynni didn't know where she was going. She didn't know what she was doing. She had never been without at least one Follower by her side, and the thought of going out on her own into the great wide world filled her with dread. But she knew, after that night, that she would never, ever be welcome among the Followers of Akko again.
So she used her skills. For the next few months, Tynni wandered from village to village, fixing granaries and fighting bandits and generally doing whatever she could to make the lives of those around her more comfortable.
During these wanderings, she met Siiga, an outlaw turned mercenary. Her skill in combat and her sheer determination impressed the ex-bandit, and she took her under her wing as the newest member of her mercenary company. For the past year and a half, Tynni has been studying and training under Siiga's guidance. Maybe one day, she will return to face her father. But that day seems far away indeed.
Equipment: Tynni has no special or unique weapons. Her generally weapon of choice is a halberd, to make up for her short height, and she wears light armour for ease of movement.
Abilities: Tynni's background as a Follower of Akko gives her a wide variety of experience, however she doesn't truly excel at much. She's as quick as a rabbit and strong as a bull, has some basic medical experience and she can build a makeshift camp with very little.
Personality: His time as a slave led him to become manipulative whenever he feels he needs or wants an advantage. He is not opposed to violence but would prefer a proper party to gain more allies rather than more enemies. Anyone that he considers a friend are treated well, though he is not opposed to trying to woo friends. Anyone that is an ally can expect him to be honest and polite but not to capitulate nor be a sycophant. Those that are neither allies nor friends will receive polite reactions until they show hostility. Once shown hostility, he will become far less polite. If weapons get drawn, he has no compunctions about maiming or murdering the people. He also has no issue with looting corpses. He views backstabbing as a death sentence. Even if he may lie, cheat, and steal, he does keep to his word. His promises are kept despite anything else he does to exploit loopholes or gain an upper hand. His life is informed by his own personal code.
Kistal loves a good party, a full drink, and good friends. Despite his many morally questionable tendencies, at heart, he wants to treat those close to him well. He will share a drink, sing a song, share a dance, and offer stories. So, while some may find him evil, he is far less so and more amoral.
Bio: Born to parents enslaved in Tundral, Kistal was forced from birth into chattel slavery. As he grew up, he became an entertainer, cook, and brewer/distiller/vintner for the family. His owner often made him wear ridiculous outfits or even do humiliating acts. This continued until he was 23.
His parents were chastised and then isolated after they accidentally dropped the family steaks. In isolation, the whole of the owner's family jeered at them, insulted them, and even abused them. The owner himself did horrifying things by torturing them relentlessly. Kistal had to watch as his parents were lashed, cut, burned, and beat for a completely minor offense. The owner and his family did not stop until both parents lay dead on the permafrost. Kistal entered a deep depression of mourning from having to watch them die. He barely managed to keep doing his job well enough, though anyone who looked at him could see how numb and dead he felt. They simply thought he was broken and a proper slave. Instead, a small flame of anger began to grow in his mind, coupling with his rather free spirit.
At that point, he began to rebel, causing him to be put into manual labor in a mine. While there, he plotted an escape. One night, after a shift in the mine, Kistal silently sneaked into the owner's home. He silently killed the owner first, taking his enchanted spear and using it to break the chains of his shackles. Then, he went through and killed the owner's wife, daughters, and son. Covered in their blood, Kistal took banners and left, killing any overseer in his way. In just one night, he tasted killing, ending with 12 people dead and leaving the other slaves free to leave or stay as desired.
Having nothing tying him to the place, he left town and escaped into the mountains. He hid high in the mountains, using his natural resistance to keep going as he foraged and barely kept fed. Once a couple weeks passed, he felt he could safely come down. He traveled north quickly, ending up in Portea. He discarded his old clothes and got the banners made into beautiful garb. By doing odd jobs, entertaining with dances, and performing occasional guard duties or assassinations, he made a decent life for himself.
Once comfortable, he began to study his tribe's magical traditions, often paying large sums for books, letters, and conversations with people versed in it. Kistal developed his own methods for casting the tribal spells, but he learned the curses, hexes, and divination his ancestors used. It took him nearly 50 years to obtain this moderately comfortable lifestyle.
He, despite still doing assassinations, burglaries, and creating scandals, primarily works as a cook at a tavern. He also makes much of their alcohol. The tavern went from a locally known place to one of the more prestigious taverns in town after Kistal applied his talents. Now, though, he is getting restless. He has funds and materials to leave and make his own way. Now, he just needs a reliable group to travel with.
Equipment:
Enchanted Spear: Spear with lights within that can be turned on or off by command. He stole this from the dead hands of his former owner.
Shaman's Trappings: His clothing is made of fine silk and feature elegant symbols and trim. They were made from various banners within his former owner's home.
Broken Shackles: His bracelets are high quality and magically locked around his wrists. The connection points for the chains have been shaved off completely. They serve as a reminder of his early life as a slave.
Abilities:
Mountain Adaptation: He can survive easily on mountains and in cold environments. While not immune to cold, Kistal can comfortably survive in cold and mountainous environments. This gives him the ability to breathe more efficiently and also immunity to vertigo and similar disorientation.
Mountaineer: Enhanced dexterity and agility combines with innate climbing ability to allow extremely strong climbing abilities. His strong legs grant him much stronger jumping ability.
Enhanced Senses: He can see clearly in anything short of pure darkness. His sense of hearing and smell are beyond human range. His sense of balance is extremely high to couple with his climbing ability.
Hoof, Horn, and Claw: His horns can gore targets and feature a more durable and thicker skull to prevent concussions and reduce damage. His claws are effective and difficult to break. His hooves, while not designed for combat, have sharp points on the toes and combine with his strong leg muscles to deliver strong blunt or piercing kicks.
Reveler: Due to his satyr physiology, he is well adapted to revels. He cannot sleep, even willingly, and takes an extremely long time of drinking hard liquor to get drunk. Even when drunk, he cannot suffer a hangover. Kistal can gorge himself on food and drink without feeling ill or getting ill. His body also has no refractory period, extremely efficient processes to keep his muscles working beyond normal human limits, and a massive metabolism to process all the food and drink he tends to consume.
Magic: Kistal can cast a limited amount of spells. They focus upon curses, hexes, and divination.
Extra notes: His magic normally involves items, dances, gestures, and frequently also features alcohol. He also always carries a set of cards and a set for liar's dice, playing up to 6 people at a time. Kistal is an almost magically good cook, baker, and pastry chef. He can make his own alcohol, given materials, at the same proficiency as his cooking. Kistal is a great dancer.
Name: Renestrae Vesperr Nickname: Ren Age: 35 Race:Sylphan/Gruskan Gender: Female Height: 5’11’’ Weight: n/a Hair color: White, dyes to brown often Eye color: White, has contacts Occupation: Assassin
Likes: Adventure/Exploring, collecting tomes, horror/terror films, learning magic (one of the reasons for her love of adventure), Interior Design, Money, Dark Arts, hard work, Entrepreneurship, Always likes a good cocktail or beer with a meal, fine arts, history, calming singing, dancing, anything graceful, and underworld organizations Dislikes: Laziness, shallow people, ambitionless people, inefficiency, not being able to read people or intentions, paranoia,
Personality: An adventurous and truly curious sylvan since she was young, It fed her ambition to go out in the world and explore. A sophisticated and well versed mature lady, she is thoroughly observant in a calm and collected manner, but can also be flirtatious and happy go lucky. Very witty and her self reliance got her rich and well known within the underworld she knows how to stay humble though.
Backstory: Ren was born a misbegotten baby in an ancient part of the forest in the Scar, her parents were a highborn sylven man and her mother was always a mystery. Renestrae Vesperr was born on a new moon night deep in the darkness of the ancient cherry tree forest with a gleam in her white round eyes and patch of white hair. Her mother, someone who her father would always mention when drunk on wine telling Ren that she had her mother's eyes and should be careful of it. Her father made sure she was brought back to the ancient castle he lived in since he loved the mother and told everyone her mother was from the Tundral, even though he knew she was a Gruskan. Ren was treated as an exceptional kid because of her pearl white eyes coupled with white hair the lords of the sylvens thought she was a special born bringing power and good fortune in her life. As a child she was treated to a harsh regiment of exercising and practicing to become the top assassin from an early age. Her Father was heavily involved with underground organizations in the surrounding areas, held a say in the sylven lords as well as a vice grip on the best retainer assassins. Since she was affluent her father put her through vigorous different teachings on assassin techniques drilled into her the four core principles, always taught her the pride of being the top in the reapers, the military force of the sylves. Formal etiquette, culture and arts, how to use money as power, Hunting with a bow and arrow, Medicine, Cooking, Martial Arts, dancing. The list was countless and the different private tutors were even more countless. Through her early years Ren was an explorer and creative with a high affinity for magic teaching herself on tomes she read, exploring the library, or even on exploration trips she did with her father finding all sorts of magical items on these trips, she then made smart investments in the sale of magical items and let her money multiply as she started to grow her connections with the black market using her father’s influence, the trade off however for doing everything she wanted to do with her father’s power there was an agreement with her pops that when she turned 18 she would do what her father required her to do.
When Ren was 18 that year a lot of things happened, Not only did she join the Retainer Assassins group in a special unit organised of special operatives working directly under Ren’s father she joined her brothers and sisters to take up arms against war or any possible threat to the village in the reapers, taking out other petty criminals and her skills in combat helped her become exceptional in skirmishes for the reapers. She dived into the jobs the Reapers needed her to do quickly, gaining momentum within the ranks. She was different amongst the reapers, She had been gifted in shadow magic rather than wind. So others quickly took note of that. As she gained more experience Seiryu took note that he could use Ren for jobs that the Dark Arts were to be utilized. She engrossed herself becoming a very notable reaper amongst the ranks as well as learning to compartmentalize her memories and tasks. She always heard stories of the Yasamura family. The strong leader of the reapers, Seiryu, his younger sister who disappeared and left the reapers, Suzune, and the youngest who was a bit older than Ren, Akarui. People always talked about how they were beyond exceptional and Ren only tried to live up to that standard. After a while Ren even had the pleasure of doing a few missions with Akarui; one was a search and destroy mission that went extraordinarily well in the lower levels of the Scar. He even gave her a tip that stuck with her for the rest of her life, Keep your head on a swivel.
Another person Ren would develop a striking relationship was with Tsukihana since both the only half born sylves in the reapers they connected. Ren wasn't happy with how Tsukihana was treated, It made her feel uneasy because in all honesty Ren deserved the same treatment, but she was treated as a prodigy child. Ren would confide in Tsukihana at times ranting about problems in passing conversation. Ren felt connected to her even though she knew Tsukihana was a bit sore on the difference in treatment.
Things went smoothly, Ren frequented missions and sometimes would bump into Akarui and Tsukihana during them. Things went well and they got along quite well when they ended up together, forming a bond with them. Ren would even rise in rank after a while as she was gifted and very adept at going above and beyond.
Suddenly a year later, Ren’s father got terribly ill to the point of needing to step down in his position of power, and Ren had to assume his position. Ren used everything her father had taught her as tools to complete a mission in all sorts of manners. She was taught all those things in the past so her father could create a well versed assassin. She took on various roles for the Shogun, it was endless and consumed her time completely enacting various different roles like a musician or dancer to complete her mission. Her Father used her like a tool or weapon to increase the noble family’s prestige.
After fighting with illness for 12 long years her father passed away with a slow degrading death, On his deathbed, he told her of her original gruskan ancestry and who her mother really was and to go out and explore her heritage. He saw the rise of the monster he created boasting 100% mission completion rate, the one of the richest sales women of magical items, and an impressive tome and relic collection as well. Ren even created a new business called Vesperr’s Tomes and Magical Items., They create copies of texts found on her trips with her dad and her dad’s massive collection in his library and such and sell it in stores! It was also the day Ren turned 31 since she has established herself now in the Scar and Underworld. She set out to expand her business leaving on sometimes long journeys across the planet gaining information along the way of course of gruskan lore but really to complete high stakes kills for the reapers. She created an ability to store her magical item store within a magical item to take with her wherever she went.
After returning from one of these long journeys. Akarui, now the red messenger, had approached her at the orders of the Shogun. There was a rebellion group in the Scar defying the Shogun and she was to lead a mission to completely exterminate them. Akarui had said the rebellion may be quite sizable so take at least 4 others. Gearing up and getting to work you pick 2 rookies as well as 2 other reapers that needed something to do, they were quite skilled at the whole mass slaughter side of things. After gathering information the team went to go hunt and kill them all. Arriving there were 10 men and women outside guarding the perimeter upon silently taking them out you hear voices coming from within the building. There were no way to peer inside except for the backdoor entrance, looking in there were more men and women in a kitchen looking area. Rushing in Ren and the reapers slew them all, some surprised started reaching for their weapons but none were prepared except for 5 of them. The leader of the rebels jumped forward with his sword striking down one of the veteran reapers who had just saved one of the rookies. Ren came from behind using her scythe she struck down in a swift slice, cutting off the leaders head. No one else came through the passage way but Ren had heard faint whispers. Moving down she came into a larger front room all children 15 or younger cowering and hugging each other. It was a whole bunch of them 30 in total. Ren’s heart dropped in no way could these children also be the rebels. The veteran spoke up saying we must honor the Shogun's orders. The Shogun’s orders were wrong, to massacre children in cold blood was no way things should work. Ren spoke up saying how the children couldn't have been involved. An argument ensued. After some debate one of the rookies flinched and was about to move, the desire to kill filled the room. Swiftly and with surprise Ren took out her fellow comrades killing all the rest of them. The rookies were easy, however the remaining veteran proved a slightly more challenging task. He had a disadvantage although good at mass slaughter he was bad at one on ones. Saving the children no greater than 15, Ren used her Invisibility and disappeared.
For 4 years Ren had been on the run. She knew she had to keep moving since over the past 4 years there had been 2 failed attempts on her life by reapers. Ending up at Kalla she set up shop to advertise her items and on the lowkey assassinations, while gathering intelligence on gruskan heritage.
Weapons: Magic Tomes, Reaper Scythe, Silver short dagger, Claw Chain, bow and arrows, crossbow, and her magic items
Abilities: The Dark Arts: The ability to use shadow based magic, but there is a direct limit to difficulty of spell and mana consumption
Dark Arts Claw Chain: Item Type: Enchanted Chain Claws: Adding Dark magic to her fingers to extend like talons it enhances physical prowess
Dark Arts Invisibility: Turning Invisible for 5 minutes. She can only use her Chain Claw in this form she can’t do any other ability in this form and if she gets touched her cast will be nullified and she can be seen. Her Invisibility also has perception masking where the enemy cant hear her move to well or smell her.
Dark Arts Shadow Arrow: Item Type: Enchanted Bow: A Shadow Arrow is procured on her bow It flies straight and true making it the best for sniping from a long bow at maximum distance.
Dark Arts Tonal Dischord: Item Type: Enchanted Necklace: using sound waves mixed with Dark Magic, a shriek will confuse those without the astral mark for 10 seconds
Dark Arts Astral Mark: Item Type: Paper Talisman: Ren can place the Astral mark upon someone this protects from Tonal Dischord.
Ultimate Move: Dark Arts Nether Step: Item Type: Orb of Darkness: Using Dark Magic to quickly travel in shadow flashes teleportation in succession
Physical Prowess: A master archer she was taught to hunt since she was little, hunting with these weapons is in Sylvan blood, They are just naturally good with them. She was trained in a Claw Hand martial arts developed by her ancestors (like tiger style kung fu i guess) She uses it for silent kills needed for assassinations.
With a skin as pale as delicate and pale the freshly fallen snow and a shoulder length hair to match, her name fits her appearance extremely well due to her intoxicating beauty.
Unfazed by the cold and harsh climates of Tundral, she is often seen wearing beautiful, and undeniably expensive dresses, matching her noble upbringing. Despite the beauty of the clothes she wear, all of them have one thing in common: they are custom made in order to not restrict her movement. The reason is not just for looks though. In fact, Maeve prefers those types of dress because she refuses to wear protective clothing such as armor due to them being 'ugly'.
Personality:
Maeve might appear to be arrogant and cold at first, but once you know her better, it's clear that despite her whims and her attitude, she is in fact a pleasant person to have around and a valuable ally. She can also be surprisingly easy to approach if you treat her with the respect she demands. In return, she will also treat you with courtesy and respect (most of the times... probably...). While she indeed cares about her allies, she has a small tendency to only see her own side of the situation and inadvertently thinking more about herself than about her allies and comrades.
Due to her noble upbringing, she had a very good education when young in many aspects, ranging from healing magic, fencing to even learn to control her strong, innate gift to use ice magic (which she still has a bit of trouble doing it, becoming clear and apparent when she gets irritated and uncomfortable). Sophisticated, polite and educated, Maeve is a perfect noble lady... if you ignore her adventurous side, her thirst for knowledge and desire to see the world, that is.
It is no secret that Isoli do have a certain superiority complex to other races and this is especially true to Isoli from Tundral. Coming from Tundral herself and being the heiress of an influential and wealthy noble family, it's only expected for her to be prideful and somewhat spoiled and even a somewhat arrogant. Still, she is not inherently mean or cruel to her allies, even though she can sometimes be mean without realizing it. Regarding enemies, opponents or those she dislike though, Maeve can be surprisingly mean and cruel, both with her words and actions. Being an accomplished duelist, she has a tendency to look down upon opponents who don't have the same talent, skill she has or who do not present any challenge to her. On these occasions, her tongue is as sharp and deadly as her rapier's blade.
Bio:
Maeve is the second child of the Orzhov family. A wealthy and influential noble family, with it's origins deeply rooted within Tundral's history. The prestigious Orzhov family has a history of producing brilliant individuals for the Isoli, ranging from talented duelists and ingenious strategists to even scholars and counselors who assisted the royal family themselves.
Unlike her older brother, whom will be the next head of the family, Maeve, for being both a woman and the youngest child was initially overlooked. Still, she was still a noble and thanks to the fact she was capable to use ice magic, she was treated better than just an 'extra' who wouldn't be able to be the head of the family. Thanks to that, she had a very good education since young, being taught of science, anatomy, healing and ice magic and even martial arts, which Maeve soon grown attached to, showing a promising talent for fencing. When Maeve began getting older, the eyes of the other family members quickly turned to her. Her talent, which was already frightening when young only grew further and further. After beating her instructor on a sparring match with only 14 years by using an original fighting style developed by her, she quickly became known as a genius duelist. Surprisingly enough, not only she showed excellence at fencing, but she quickly shown herself to be a prodigy in the studies as well.
Even though Maeve had already surpassed her older brother in most aspects, the Orzhov were a very strict and traditional family, and as such, nothing she did could change the fact that she would never be in the same position as her older brother. She knew she was better. She deserved much more than to be married to another noble and just become a housewife. Her brother wasn't able to win against her in a sparring match not even once and she had something that no matter how much he tried, he wouldn't be able to copy... She was graced with the gift of ice magic.
Using her ice magic in interesting and subtle ways, she was praised for her ability to finely control said element, despite still not being able to fully make use of her gift yet. That, coupled with her skill with a rapier made her almost unbeatable in a duel.
Despite all that, Maeve grew tired of just living in the Orzhov family's mansion. There was no one who was capable to beat her in a duel or even capable of giving her a worthy challenge. Most of the instructors couldn't teach her anything. The routine was the same, every single day other than a few noble events where she had to go due to her family pressuring her because her brother was 'too busy'.
As the time passed, Maeve simply wasn't able to hide her dissatisfaction anymore. If there was nothing more for her inside Tundral, then maybe she could find something outside. But before that, she would have to make preparations. She needed to make connections to other noble families and find people to support her status as a Noble. Luckily for her, there was already a path laid in front of her to thread, by her parents, who always wanted her to serve the royal family. Thanks to that, she was able to gather enough influence and recognition by herself so neither her older brother nor anyone could deny her status as a noble. With the only problem already out of her way, she was free to do whatever she wanted since wealth wasn't really a problem for her.
Little did Maeve knew that she would get dragged into something much bigger than she was imagining after she left Tundral...
Equipment:
Other than her fine dresses, all of them made to be beautiful and elegant but not restrict her movement (They happen to be somewhat revealing due to the hot climate outside Tundral), the only weapon Maeve carries is a beautiful rapier, named Hrím. With an intricate handle and a blade made of a special, enchanted white steel, almost as white as Maeve's hair, it is both a beautiful and deadly. Due to the way it was forged, it's blade and handle are dangerously cold to the touch. It can only be wielded properly by those who can use ice magic.
Abilities:
Hrím (Hoarfrost in Old Norse): Thanks to her ice magic and her unique rapier, Maeve's strikes can lower one's bodily temperature and sap their stamina. The wounds caused by her blade often make target's skin and flesh around the wound have an almost blue color due to the frostbite and the cold burns.
Winter's Fang: When using this technique, Maeve's strikes leave a trail of ice, similar to a thin ice blade in the air as she swings her rapier, freezing the very air around the blade as it passes. Upon hitting an enemy with this technique, instead of bleeding, both skin, flesh and blood alike around the wound are completely frozen, further lowering her target's bodily temperature, sapping their stamina and making it painful to move.
Maeve can also use a variation of this ability, creating a slightly thicker ice trail in the air in order to deflect blows and projectiles aimed at her or cut her opponents.
Jack Frost: An ingenious use of her ice magic. Maeve creates a thin layer of ice in the ground around her, making it much easier to detect possible enemies, both by the noise of the ice layer cracking and the footprints on the ground. It also significantly decreases the temperature on the affected area, enough to make one's breath visible.
Winter's Kiss: Once again a product of Maeve's ingenuity and unique technique, she coats her blade with a thin and brittle ice layer which constantly remakes itself after shattering. Upon striking an enemy, having her attack blocked or parrying an attack, this thin ice layer breaks, transforming into hundreds of thin ice needles. While the wounds inflicted by them are only superficial cuts or even piercing one's skin before melting due to their bodily temperature, they are still painful due to the wound itself, the thermal shock and force her opponent to protect their eyes. Despite the almost negligible damage a single needle can cause, hundreds of them flying at you again and again during a fight can severely hinder one's fighting capabilities.
Frozen Bloom: Unlike other techniques created by Maeve, this one is undeniably more cruel. Using the frozen wounds caused by Winter's Fang, Maeve can control the frozen ice and flesh, either making them slowly expand, freezing everything inside over a period of time or instantly freeze an area around it, making the ice expand violently, taking a form similar to a rose made of ice and frozen blood, giving the name to this technique.
Both uses of this technique are extremely dangerous, while the first one takes time to be effective and it's not painful at first, unless the opponent manages to either flee or somehow cancel this technique, their death is guaranteed.
The second use, while it instantly damages an opponent causing great pain and big damage to the affected area, it's effect is local and it doesn't expand slowly like the first type does.
Personality: From her childhood and as a byproduct of her magic, Chihiro is a very strong personality that tends to act with authority and decisive action. Despite her long life, relative to most everyone, she approaches life with a zeal and curiosity one could only imagine for the most dedicated scholars or most inquisitive children. This leads her to travel and get into many events and situations, giving her a wide breadth of knowledge.
Her faith in herself and her order creates a nearly obsessive desire to root out and eliminate enemies and evil. She wishes to bring people to her side by showing them the strength of her will and the kindness of her help. She follows her order's tenets, but they allow for a certain amount of flexibility to respond to changing times and situations.
Chihiro is not opposed to violence at all and will even interrogate as necessary to obtain information. Her truth venom helps in this endeavor. She hates lying and hiding the truth from others. Those that consistently lie to her will find themselves tied up, dosed with truth venom, and interrogated until they tell her what she needs to know. Harming innocents is absolutely disallowed around her. Forcing innocent and/or good people to do things against their will, like slavery and indentured servitude, will bring her ire down upon the perpetrators.
She never accepts money for her services but will graciously accept other gifts. Chihiro will go out of her way to help a friend and gives them gifts often. She will also refuse any sort of nobility, title of similar weight, or land given. She has no interest in serving anything but her order and own will. She does not view evil as a permanent state under most circumstances. Any evil that can be redeemed and brought back to the light of good will be helped and taught to become good once more. Any evil that cannot change or refuses redemption will be eradicated. If she cannot save someone, she will avenge them.
Her inability to age, constant traveling, and lack of ties to any location but her monastery leads Chihiro to view romantic attachments as fleeting. Lovers will die eventually or the love will fade. She views this as a natural cycle of the world and expects her lovers to understand that. She also has no qualms about more than one lover. After all, love is fleeting and should be enjoyed as it comes.
Bio: Born to a naga inquisitor in a monastery hidden away in the mountains surrounding the Abysal Valley, Chihiro spent the first 62 years of her life training to become an inquisitor of the order. Her order, the Flores Sororibus Serpentis (Sisters of Serpent Blossoms), follows a code of conduct that many would find unusually active. This leads to their members leaving and working in the world often. Since all are nagas, only death by means other than time can claim them, so the inquisitors are eternally moving and trying to make the world and ideal place. Chihiro took the tenets to heart as she developed into an adult. She trained with weapons and her own magic, honing herself into a warrior of good. As a young girl, she heard of the massive war and the aftermath. She never saw it herself, but this further solidified the need of her order's intervention in her mind. Her training doubled as she desired to become a veritable one woman army of good.
Once she was old enough and had become strong enough to transcend the title of Sister and become a full inquisitor, Chihiro left her home to explore the world. She would come back as time presented itself, but she always left soon after to resume her work. Her travels took her around the entire land, leading her to gain a massive store of knowledge and make and lose many friends. She has been involved in events ranging from small plots to full scale wars. Once her work is done, she silently disappears to the next location.
Along the way, she encountered heroes of old and made friends with them. One such man was Jeevak. He was a Gruskan man with a noble goal to help his broken people. Chihiro took a liking to his desires and began helping him with it. They became close friends for a while, but Chihiro saw him change. The desire for reparations and revenge began to eat at her old friend until her lost sight of his goal. She left his company when she couldn't tolerate his extreme goals. After leaving, she resumed her travels and assistance. 250 years have passed since she began her quests and she has become somewhat of an urban legend. Some people recognize her disguised form from stories of old. This led her to have a far easier time in many cases when she needed help or information. This expedited her work, leading her to have a free moment to return to her monastery. So, she decided to head into Kalla. There, she heard about an odd attack on a dancer and a commotion as volunteers were called, so she slipped into the crowd, hoping no one recognized her, and planned her next move.
The tenets are simple and the first lays groundwork for the others: 1. Act in the world with flexibility and dignity. 2. Spread good anywhere you can, helping those in need. 3. No individual is innately worth more or less than another. 4. Evil is a blight that can be redeemed or destroyed. Always redeem before destruction. 5. Innocent life is precious. Do not kill or harm innocents. Any harm must be repaired directly by the one who harmed. 6. Free will and equitable distribution of resources leads to stability and cohesion. Do not suffer a tyrant nor allow people to go without the means to survive. 7. Be a shining example of what can be achieved. Act with dignity, kindness, wisdom, and swiftness. Do not neglect your body, mind, or appearance.
Equipment: Dual Korean Fighting Fans: Mastercrafted and adorned with beautiful etchings, gilding, and feathers that conceal the blades within, a gift after she became an inquisitor and often coated in her neurotoxin Barbed Chigiriki: Flail with barbed chain and head to entangle and strike enemies while ripping flesh Feathered Spears: Carries a quiver full of them, heads are sharp with two backward facing barbs to make removal increase damage to the target. The feathers impart spin and stability in flight.
Abilities:
Ageless: Following full maturity, naga cease to age physically, so until another means of death comes, they will continue living.
Shapeshifting: Naga can innately shapeshift between a fully humanoid form and their true naga form at will. Clothing can be altered in this change, though it reverts to its original appearance if removed. If desired, the naga may retain their fangs and venom.
Fanged Serpent Venom: Naga canines are elongated and have small tube structures in them. Above their soft palate and nestled behind their molars are five venom producing glands. This venom varies in use and potency among naga and more than one venom type can be present. Chihiro's venom either produces an effect similar to a truth serum or will act as a potent neurotoxin that induces short term paralysis. The toxin does not progress to stop major organs, so the victim remains alive.
"Divine Power": While not actually divine, naga magic focuses upon force of will and faith in oneself rather than material components. A naga that is demoralized or otherwise has their confidence broken finds magic harder to perform. If the naga ceases to believe in themselves at all and lose interest in exerting their will upon the world, they will cease to access their magic. The reverse is also true. A naga's magical power grows with their belief in themselves and the force of their will. Restoring a naga's faith and confidence will return their magic.
Extra notes: Due to her size in natural form and polymorph retaining the strength from her natural form, she is physically much stronger than most races. Her magic increases her own abilities and capabilities or self-heals. It is mostly transmutation type magic with a couple abjuration type spells to provide barriers. She is 21'8" long from top of head to tip of tail, with most of it being tail.
Name: Gossk Quor-dek. Close friends address him as 'Godek' at their own peril. Age: 47 Race: Full-blooded Beastman (Dracodile)
[::PERSONALITY::]
Gossk Quor-dek is a fairly intricate but conflicted Dracodile. Throughout his youth, he was taught extensively to embrace his aggressive emotions (such as ambition and avarice). Unfortunately, he would always watch quietly as his older siblings expressed them freely with wanton abandonment, and that was a mistake; Savage discipline was doled out to quash anyone's heretical actions. Even when he tried to fall in line, it never felt right to him, nor would he be lauded for his progress. On top of this conundrum were the appointed times that the Dracodiles would be permitted to display scale-friendly emotions (such as love and sadness) towards one another, their chosen friends, and family ties. Those time frames eluded Gossk's understanding too, and, despite the seeming simplicity of the tribal order, he found it all to be very irrational and inefficient. Truly, this repressive paradigm on emotions was not a lesson that seasoned well in Gossk.
But that tumultuous upbringing still changed him, and brewed in his psyche the rawest onion of entrapped feelings.
Like most Dracodiles, Gossk considers his word his bond, and very rarely does his kind renege on promises and oaths. They are still coldly pragmatic and ruthless, though Gossk manages to be very eerie about it, at least in the eyes of his own kind, even those closest to him. The reason why is that he remains staunchly unaffected by the same emotional and irrational impulses of his tribesmen, or even other races for that matter. In the chaos of a battle or the haste of a hunt, a deadly calm and patience saturates his demeanor and guides his every action; He is all but immune to panic even when severely wounded. This kind of temperament is rarely seen among the Dracodiles, and it is often treated with superstitious jeers and wary stares.
In practical applications, Gossk has always felt that he was a little different; Always having to attack the problem in a different way. Although he is incredibly strong and robust compared to other races, he was born smaller and scrawnier than his more gifted peers. He envied the ease in which they exercised normal Dracodile prowess. So, he decided instead to learn how to observe; Not merely look, but absorbed wholeheartedly. He'd watch his prey for hours, and never eat them. He'd study other predators' ways, and never interrupt them. He'd guess what they'd do each and every time. After he'd gathered enough information, he would attempt to develop similar methods that would bring him success. In only a few months, Gossk tasted a victory unlike anything he had felt before. And although he doesn't know the words themselves, he had in fact begun to resort to more than just stealth and ambush to take his prey, but also smooth deception, psychological trickery, and outside-the-box tactics.
Without a doubt, Gossk is a thinker, and a deep thinker at that. He even realized how far he had fallen from his god, Illorassk the Devourer, by using such shameful, perverted ways. These smarter strategies made life a lot easier and consumed less energy, but still would feel unnatural to him, at least at first. Those who had chastised him said he would never grow up big and strong if he continued like this. He had spitefully disagreed of course, and continued to feel more and more like a rebel. He decided that if he must become a heretical criminal hellbent on committing every sin in order to live and thrive, then so shall it be.
Gossk is not the only thinker of his tribe, there are many others who feel the same as he does. But with the majority favoring bulking brawn, unfettered ferocity, and public declarations, the smart game would be to keep one's head down and think about it. The status quo is certainly a powerful state for the Dracodile tribe in the Wilds, but a few shamans who had ventured out and experienced other kingdoms know that their kind (that is, Beastman) are discriminated against, and that if they merely chose to, human foreigners alone could wipe out their tribe's way of life. They learned well the heavy feeling of despair, for they might have to lament the destruction of their race, all for a lack of wisdom and diligence.
Upon learning this fact from those shamans, and soaking in the deep meaning of it all, Gossk began to, for the first time, experience what he would later learn were vivid dreams, of the horrendous prophetic variety. He didn't understand the images, the sounds, or the message, it almost drove him mad--whereas very little, if anything, actually gets his scales sliding. He did understand one thing though: He needed to leave and he required power. He must grow in all ways and a conquest was on his horizon. It was certainly not here in the familiar swamps and marshes that he would gain such power. He would no longer merely survive as a skulking exile on the outskirts of all he's ever known.
No. It was time to move on and embrace the great unknown, with tooth, claw, and all, as they say.
Mental Abilities
These mental abilities are derived primarily from Gossk Quor-dek's personality and way of thinking, but are possibly boosted by the draconic heritage of which he is ignorant. While these abilities are few, they grow stronger every month as he continues to experience life and overcome obstacles and challenges that are unsolvable by physical means. All abilities listed below are capable of growth and should be considered roots that encourage eventual creation of new mental abilities.
-STEEL TRAP- "Careful, Gus... Look a'eet! ...Not scared at all, that one. Watchin' us all cautious like. Them eyes... ye can tell he's figurin' us out."
Like his great maw that rends flesh, seldom does anything escape Gossk Quor-dek's vigilance; If he experiences it, he can recall the memory at will, and quite vividly. However, it does not mean he will always understand what he remembers; It takes time to digest the truth. Whether this ability is due to his own personality or draconic heritage, he doesn't know, but he does thoroughly enjoy having such an empowering and sober grasp on his mind.
The next stage in this mental advancement began to quicken his thinking. For if you are unchained by the weight of recalling convoluted memories or sifting the accuracy of minor details, there is no need to dwell on the past all the time, lest you forget it. Thus, Gossk can almost always rapidly analyze his present situation with the speed of a diving falcon and decide his next seven moves ahead of time. This ties in well with his Adaptive Fighter ability described below, as it helps him offset his relative lack of agility and land speed.
Another stage developed recently, and is one that Gossk is keen to hone; His spatial discernment is slowly expanding his awareness of his surroundings by sharpening his hearing and smell. In fact, those senses have already started to compensate for his eyes in identifying threats and objects outside his line of sight; Thus, he's becoming acquainted with a 360-degree arc of perception that, even if he's blinded, can still feed him details so long as he can smell or hear his enemies and the environment. Practical examples include recognizing a sneaking person's telltale scent and marking their exact distance by the sound of their passing; Scanning a small area and marking in his mind exactly where every tree and shrub is rooted, the location of rocks, and angles of the ground. Having done so, he could navigate through it, eyes closed, and never bump into anything or anyone.
-Mimetic Vogue- "Oi, Beastman! What're you doing, poachin' mah dead buddy's buttons? Git outta 'ere now!"
Despite his strong and ever-growing mental aptitudes, Gossk Quor-dek is not immune to being snared up by absurd ideas and beliefs. His tribesmen firmly believe in bedecking themselves with grisly trophies taken from their slain foes, or fashioning repulsive fetishes to ward off evil presences or weak usurpers, and he is no different. It is unclear if these methods actually work, but the psychological terror that it has on other sapient beings is quite evident.
In his youth, Gossk has always been subtly fascinated by the various baubles, instruments, and adornments worn by other races. Weapons and armors were daily projects that he knew very well, but those things, what manner of dead creatures did those people craft them from? Now well into his exile, Gossk has examined those puzzling things up close (on dead bodies, no doubt) and has become rapturously prone to seizing them whenever he can. He believes that by mere possession and donning of these accessories, he's acquired a variety of supernatural charms that enable him to steal small portions of his enemies' power, which would weaken them.
Mimetic Vogue is more a knack than a true ability. For better or worse, Gossk is empowered by, and vulnerable to, whatever social impacts that his polarizing presence might make on other people, whether it be glorifying awe or stark ridicule, or something in between. Few people would dismiss the arrival of a giant, bipedal dragon wearing a crude vest garnished with decayed skulls, but they'd likely wonder why is he also holding a pocket watch, wearing a couple shiny bracelets, and sporting a top hat and a monocle?
[::APPEARANCE::]
This IMAGE expresses the general look of Gossk Quor-dek, but requires further embellishment to create a suitable impression.
Standing proudly at a towering 9-foot height, Gossk's massive frame weighs 877 pounds and is flanked by a 6-foot long tail. This makes him fairly hard to miss and there's no mistaking that his is an intense presence that demands attention and respect. Small things tremor and topple as he passes by; His gait resembles that of a proud nobleman, upright and tall, each step carefully placed. His scaly hide, which paints him a muddy brown with black stripes and verdant spots, barely hides the rippling muscles underneath. Small, menacing spikes adorn his head and backside, the largest of which was forcefully broken off of his head a long time ago. The rest of them stretch out from the back of his neck and travel down to the base of his tail and begin to thin out towards its tip; They match the color of his claws, which are blacker than coal. They abide on his feet in threes as well as his one thumb and three fingered hands. His large, pearl-white teeth jut up and down outside the line of his protruding jaw. More intriguing than all these features is the color of his eyes, a deep purple likened to amethyst, and is thought to be a foreboding omen, the likes of which had only been witnessed and recorded one time before in his tribes' oral history.
Dracodiles don't wear clothing to cover their shame or to keep warm. Nudity, while acceptable, is considered a young one's prerogative and even the weakest of Dracodiles can peacefully sleep naked while exposed to a raging storm and harsh waters. However, apparel, along with armor and weapons, does have its place in their society by serving as a canvass for one's status, ambitions, positions, achievements, and history. Young Dracodiles must study, and eventually master, a shaman's fastidious methods to weave plant matter and interlock them with bones and animal skins. Once they have mastered this art, they are considered on their way to adolescent responsibilities.
For Gossk, he wears a belt, loincloth, vest, and cowl, all of which are made from plants and animal skins and secured with tiny bones and rope. Coated with the stains of ochre, there are various red markings all across them, some large and others small; A single solitary black mark dominates the back of his vest. These symbols have meanings only known to Gossk and those who made them. A grisly collection of fully decayed human and animal skulls hang from his vest and belt. Per his mental ability Mimetic Power explained above, Gossk wears an additional collection of odd curios that are not of his tribe's workmanship. A long, woolly sock covers his left arm (its toe suffers from a hole) while a couple of ornamental copper bracelets cover the wrist of the same arm. Two silent pocket watches with chains dangle together around his neck. An assortment of buttons, of many colors and designs, have been crudely sown into his vest and do not serve their intended function whatsoever.
Physical Abilities
Gossk Quor-dek is primarily a physical combatant. Decades of hunting, rivalries, and fighting off predator packs will do that to you. The first eight abilities listed below are derived from his nature and prowess as a Dracodile. They develop with age and become deadlier as he hones his skill. As a sapient being however, his last ninth ability, Adaptive Fighter, was created solely through his commitment to better defend himself in a world that he has never known. While all of Gossk's abilities are capable of growth, as his most developed group of abilities, there is not much else that can be added here, but life is full of surprises.
-Caloric Longevity- "No, man, I'm tellin' ya. That's the same beastie that killed me gramps. See his purple eyes?"
Like an army that marches on its stomach, Dracodiles grow and age on theirs. As long as they suffer no debilitating injuries that prevent frequent consumption of prey, there is no hard limit to how large and strong a Dracodile can become. However, this means that with increased size comes a greater appetite. In Gossk's tribe, they believe anyone who reaches such gargantuan proportions will prompt Illorassk to descend upon that individual and simply take him away, presumably to the Great Feast beyond the stars. Whether this is true or not, a simple fact remains: once a Dracodile reaches beyond 50% of their adult size, the required caloric intake per day becomes impossible to satisfy. Therefore, a Dracodile will lose body mass at some point, for no hunter is that successful.
-Great Physique- "What the hell is that thing? Ye, o'er there, climbing that oak tree. Come, let's go see..."
The physique of a hunter is the foundation of his greater assets. Naturally, Dracodiles will always enjoy great strength and toughness, but to ensure that he stays lean and flexible, Gossk has pushed himself far more than the average Dracodile. By seeking out new physical challenges on a weekly basis and conducting high intensity burst training daily, he's come to understand the limits of his strength and endurance, and how to break out of any plateaus that halt his progress. At the moment, with only a half-hearted effort, Gossk can flip over a wooden cart loaded with goods so hard that it maintains its momentum for a few yards, all while fighting off a swarm of angry town guards. Additionally, his endurance and pain threshold are quite high, thanks to his Flesh of Steel ability, but he's also periodically subjected his body to pain in a controlled fashion in order to suss out any weaknesses that escaped his notice.
Speaking of which, he's keenly aware of his inherent lack of agility and land speed, a vulnerability that begs caution in battle. However, he is by no means sluggish and cumbersome, for he has an acute sense of proprioception and his 4 foot stride can close the distance like a stick of dynamite. On flat land, his top speed of 30 mph is reached in 6 seconds, albeit he can only sustain this velocity for a matter of seconds, and a few vigorous sprints will wind him for the hour. In the water though, stamina isn't a real issue and his tail can double his speed and triple his acceleration.
Dracodiles are actually warm-blooded, unlike their lesser animal counterparts known as crocodiles. Therefore, while Gossk can withstand extreme temperatures for a few hours, he will start to suffer health issues if he doesn't somehow bolster his tolerance.
-Gnawing Hunger- "See my cow bits there, Steve? Best bait ever, I reckon. No lizzies can resist 'em, you'll see."
Dracodiles are rapacious eaters and seldom practice restraint when it comes to food and any opportunity that comes their way. Their hunger bites at them harder than any rival, so they must feed on some manner of flesh every 4 waking hours. If they don't, their bodies will begin to suffer increasingly detrimental effects on their willpower and clear thinking. Once a full 24 hours have passed, a Dracodile will become fully bestial and utterly frenzied, and will attack anyone and anything if they think it is food. Gnawing Hunger isn't regarded as a weakness by Dracodiles, but rather a fact of life that strengthens their drive and connects them to Illorassk. There is one minor positive perk to be gleaned: A Dracodile's body will gradually unleash hormones and stored energy during their decline, effectively increasing their speed, strength, and stamina to a maximum of 10% until they are satiated.
-Natural Weaponry- "Just surround him already, we got more weapons, and better. He's only got a stupid club!"
Dracodiles choose to wield weapons and armor, and can master them like other races; While this gives their natural weapons a backseat, it would be foolish to consider them inferior. Gossk's claws are smaller than average, but are still powerful enough to scratch into solid stone about 1/4 inch deep. Without magical assistance, this is the limit, but not everyone is walking around in stone armor.
Next is his most iconic weapon, a 1-foot long jaw. It may seem small but its 66 conical, peg-like teeth grants Gossk the power to rend flesh with impunity. Additionally, a secondary jaw joint is responsible for making his bite absolutely bone-shattering. When his teeth snap shut, the joint spreads the full force of his bite across everything, so that nothing can twist or lose a grip; Simply put, limbs will be torn right off. Fortunately, the powerful muscles generating this downward force come at the cost of weaker muscles which open his mouth, an exploit that keen-eyed opponents might dare to take.
The last weapon is an unsuspecting one, especially to the uninitiated. Dracodiles rarely use their tail offensively, and may do so in a pinch. They just don't see their most powerful swimming instrument as a weapon. But Gossk has long viewed his tail as a reliable, long-reaching tool in his arsenal. Like a quarterstaff in the hands of a disciplined monk, it can keep advancing enemies at bay and, if timed carefully, easily sweep multiple foes off their feet. Cloth and exposed flesh are likely to be slashed by the various spikes on the tail. Now, as versatile and powerful as his tail may be, should it be thoroughly damaged, it will put Gossk in a bad way. He loses a valuable weapon, cannot reach his top swim speed, and loses a great amount of balance in his locomotion and posture on land.
-Flesh of Steel- "Shoot him! SHOOOOT HIIIM!! ...Oh confound it all! You, give me that crossbow!"
Metaphorically speaking, a Dracodile's hide is dense and extremely tough. It might as well be steel to the basic scratches and bumps of ordinary animals and feeble creatures. Of course, full steel plate does not find its equal in a Dracodile's scales, albeit it could be argued that the Dracodile can take more punishment anyway. Due to the oblique angles of the scales, arrows rarely find purchase, making the penetrating power of crossbow bolts a far more attractive choice. The blades and points of swords, daggers, spears, and halberds are effectively reduced by 20%. They'll still work, and are obviously better than nothing, but it will take time to whittle down that rough, squamous armor. It's best concentrate on one spot and dial the damage in repetitively, if you can. Lastly, the scales themselves are sharp, and if rubbed carelessly, blood will be shed. But that's okay, Gossk doesn't like to hug people.
-Darkvision- "Yes, I know, ...just keep the light on 'em. I'mma sneak around, kay? It'll work."
Although they are not nocturnal creatures, Dracodiles still prefer to hunt at night. When the night life surges, the world surrenders its colors and their vision adopts the spookiness of black, white, and shades of grey. A Dracodile actually matches the eyesight of the average human during daylight, but at night, chances are that potential prey will find it harder to spot him lurking about. Unlike their lesser counterparts, the crocodiles, their eyes do not see all around, nor can they track different targets, or be retracted for safety. Adaptation has granted Dracodiles a superior depth perception by bringing their eyes closer together and pointing forward, ideally at their intended prey. Lastly, using a bright, intense light in an attempt to blind a Dracodile or negate his Darkvision will only earn you one thing: a chuckle.
-Water Breathing- "C'mon, Jim, it's been over an hour. He's long gone by now, so let's get to fishin'."
It is not a very well known fact that Dracodiles breathe underwater, and that they navigate any body of water regardless of salinity levels. People of other races tend to view them as giant versions of crocodiles, who can hold their breath for up to 15, sometimes 20 minutes. On the contrary, since Dracodiles enjoy the benefits of having both powerful lungs and efficient gills, they may remain submerged for as long as they see fit. Most Dracodiles have three pairs of gills, starting on their lower neck, then over their lungs, and finally on their sides. They are hard to spot among their dark scales and in fact, a sheathing organ armored with scales will cover their gills after they've been on land for a few minutes.
It is worth noting that the secret of these gills, and that they are vital weak-points, are ferociously guarded by the Dracodiles. In the distant past, entire settlements of other races were wiped out because their hunters displayed their glorious catches and bragged about their story. Dracodile shamans would quietly investigate this using their secret ways and depending on how their slain kin were killed, their report could mean an all-out war. Put another way, it would be unwise to assault a Dracodile's gills unless you intend to kill him and burn his body to ash.
-Acid Breath- "What the—MY HOUSE! What're these holes—oh dammit, it burns?!"
Even more secret than their gills is the draconic evidence that all Dracodiles can spew a stream of lethal corrosive acid, just like fire dragons that breathe immolating flames upon its enemies. In fact, it's so reclusive an ability that most Dracodiles are uneducated about its existence, believing only certain shamans and champions have the power to use it. In Gossk's case, he was taught how to utilize it shortly after his exile by one of his friends, a shaman named Jikaa-Jigar. It was a trade in exchange for her life debt, for Gossk had saved her a long time ago from ravenous wolves. She taught him the truth, and that not only were they immune to acid and corrosion, one can learn different projectile techniques or even combine the acid with ingredients for potion-making. Gossk thanked her for the crash course and quickly bid her farewell, lest she be caught associating with him and sully her reputation.
Acid Breath actually has a slightly magical nature due to its draconic origin; Therefore, it owns a few enhanced properties that are beyond that of natural acids and bases. This grants the ability extreme versatility and potency, but also makes it complicated and hard to master. An untrained (or unfocused) Dracodile can take a moment before generating a narrow, cone-shaped stream (2-foot max radius, 16-foot range) that can potentially affect many targets in a clumsy hit-or-miss fashion. Metals and stones take time to dissolve, but flesh will have issues right away, especially the softer tissues and organs.
With diligent practice and commitment, a Dracodile can use his breath more often and spontaneously, but also exercise better control over many other factors such as: projectile type (stream, spray, orb, spit), size (radius, range), projectile speed, solubility (controls its lethality), viscosity (controls its sliminess), and even its color. At the moment, Gossk is untrained and can only use his breath 3 times a day, but is on the cusp of controlling his projectile type. It has been a love-hate relationship with his breath, as he loves how effective it is, but hates how it turns his meals into soup. Gossk dislikes soup.
-Adaptive Fighter- "No, wait, wait. S-Stop, Jane. ...I—I've nevah seen a lizzie do that before. We should leave."
The crowning achievement of his arsenal and a skill developed all on his own. As a fruit grown from Gossk's own worldview and philosophy, this fledgling ability has transformed his battle capabilities and retains the potential to grant him a level of dominance that he's never known before. The seed was planted with the realization that he could not always defeat sapient beings using his tried and true hunting method (wait, ambush, drown). Some prey are actually better hunters themselves, better than he can imagine. And as he ventured farther out into the world, he knew that, when he least expects it, he could be cornered, outnumbered, and overwhelmed by superior weapons. His environment could bode ill for him and a boon to his enemies! He would have to stand his ground and defend himself. For certain he could fight valiantly with great strength and ferocity, in typical Dracodile fashion. But that is what they would expect, and that gives them power over him. So therein lies the blooming beauty of his epiphany: Just as all hunting is based on deception, so it is with both dueling and warfare.
Having no formal training in martial arts or dueling, Gossk has long been reliant on the familiar rough-and-tumble world of grappling, biting, and slashing that permeates the Wilds. He's pushed himself beyond this primitive state with constant reminders that he mustn't act like a base animal and never follow the expectations of his enemies. At its core, Adaptive Fighter discourages all-out onslaughts and constant evasive maneuvers, both of which would fatigue him quickly. Instead the ability stresses having patience to wait and carefully watch for the most opportune moment to counterattack. Simply put, endure their attacks, evade when possible, and then decisively strike at them with such precise force that they are rendered helpless, if not outright destroyed. In this way, Gossk would be able to reserve his stamina and kill his foes as efficiently as possible.
A long term aspect of this ability is understanding that his enemies are also his teachers; Hence, keen observations of their tactics and strategies are crucial to expanding his own repertoire. It is no different than when he learned how to enhance his hunting strategies in his youth. So, without question, Gossk loves this style of fighting as not only does it feel so natural and proper, it has wonderful synergy with his Steel Trap mental ability. Overall, this physical ability has garnered Gossk more confidence to step into the civilized world. Given enough time, he might even adapt socially on a scale greater than he ever had back at home in the Wilds.
Magical Incantations
Gossk's spells are few and supplementary, only unleashed when required. He is not magically inclined, so being winded by copious use of mana goes against his battle philosophy. However, these three spells were sparked by necessity due to problematic situations during his travels. Powered by arcane incantations of varying length, these spells (and about magic in general) were taught to Gossk during the early years of his exile by certain shamans, some who had taken pity on him and others he'd bribed with prime choices of food. As the least developed arsenal at his command, he can certainly learn new incantations and, with rigorous training and proper study, his current spells can become more effective, flexible, and less costly. However, that kind of growth is unlikely to happen unless he is motivated by some pressing need. Lastly, all of his incantations have a brief delay before they cast their spells, and if a magical incantation creates an upkeep spell, it simply means that casting the spell initially will cost more mana than it does to maintain its duration.
-Swamp Pit- "Once we get there, I'll—hey... this place wasn't here before... Charles? Where'd you go?!"
A Dracodile's greatest advantage is not his strength, endurance, or speed, but his ability to launch a surprise attack when you're least expecting it. Such is the profound wisdom of the eccentric shaman, Kijj-tissk, who instructed Gossk how to enjoy a home away from home. An upkeep spell with 2 incantations and a medium mana cost, it temporarily changes terrain and can be placed up to 30 feet away from Gossk. Once the incantation's last syllable is uttered, the center of a 45-foot area of effect (AOE) is instantly conjured within his line of sight. Night time is unnaturally simulated around and in the AOE, which is made up of three zones: a 30-foot diameter swamp pit in the center, which is surrounded by a 10-foot wide bog, which is bordered by a 5-foot thick fog.
The fog isn't dispersed by wind and prevents the magical scrying or detection of anyone's location within the AOE. It is also magically dense and prevents line of sight, as well as hindering the accuracy of range attacks passing through it. Next, the bog is incredibly mucky, which will slow people down and possibly cause them to sink; However, the bog does contain various forms of concealment and cover, such as dead trees, broken logs, and large bushes. Finally, the swamp pit is extremely murky and odiously sickening, as though miasma was present. Its slimy slopes descend gradually to a 30-foot depth at its dead center. Two other points of interest exist in the swamp: four large columns of dense rock that stretch up to just under the surface, and four large tunnels that lead out of the swamp pit and exit somewhere into the bog.
Swamp Pit has a few details worth mentioning: * With magical aid, the AOE's presence can be sensed or detected before running into it. * The AOE can be dispelled rather easily, but just prior to removal, Gossk will be alerted immediately to the image and location of the person responsible for doing this. * Supernatural manipulations of the elements (water, earth, etc.) within the AOE is more difficult and costly than usual for the caster because Swamp Pit is an upkeep spell, meaning Gossk's mana is being drawn slowly but continuously to maintain his complete control over its design and current structures. * If Gossk exits the AOE and leaves it alone, the AOE will gradually disappear over 5 minutes and leave no trace; However, if Gossk is killed, knocked out, or wills its removal, the AOE will vanish instantly. * When the AOE disappears, any sunken objects or people in the bog's muck will be pushed up gently to the level of original surface; However, in the swamp pit, the same will instead be quickly rushed up to the level of the original surface. The greater the depth, the greater the velocity that things will be flung. Fall damage may become a sudden issue.
-Far Stride- "Alright, we're ready now, Mister Gossk sir. Lead the way, we're right behind ya..."
The world is large and full of interesting locales, evident by its history, flora, and fauna, all of which enriches a hunter's journey, for he could spend a lifetime mastering them all. This spell was taught to Gossk by his friend, the shaman Jikaa-Jigar, who encouraged him to conquer the unknown world and embrace his destiny. A simple 24-hour spell with 2 incantations and a large mana cost, it lessens the detrimental effects of extensive, fast-paced travels. For an example, a power walk is no more taxing than a slow, cumbersome walk, and your running stamina will be doubled. In fact, your stride even seems a few feet longer, cutting the trek's distance down by a respectable fraction. You are not as bothered by extreme temperatures as you normally would be, though lethal temperatures are still dangerous. Next, the climate and environment will not deteriorate your clothes, nor will your shoes wear out. Although Dracodiles don't wear shoes, their feet will not become sore. These same effects will assist beasts of burden and mounts, including their gear. Lastly, the decay of food and drink is greatly lessened, though food already on its way out will probably rot, and extreme temperatures will neither freeze nor evaporate food and supplies. Far Stride continues even when taking a break or camping for the night, so it's advisable to travel for as long as the spell will last.
-Sunder Clout- "Haha, we got him now, boys! Oi, get the wagon over here an' we'll---WHOA!! What was that!?"
Few things are more terrifying to a young hunter than the epiphany that he has suddenly become the hunted. Having once barely escaped a vicious ambush by a pack of half-beastman snakes, Gossk was guided by tales of his youth to seek out the elusive shaman Tassaar, whose powerful mysticism raised the bar for all Dracodiles pursuing shamanship. He found him on his death bed and after humbling himself, he convinced the shaman to pass on what knowledge he would. Inked claw at the ready, Gossk eagerly recorded Tassaar's diction and gave him a proper burial shortly afterwards.
A tricky spell with 4 incantations, a medium mana cost and two phases that Gossk must go through as he speaks their one-word incantations. The first phase is a kinetic energy (KE) gathering phase, which can last up to 6 seconds, and the second phase is a KE releasing phase, where Gossk can unleash sweeping shock waves and energy blasts that take the form and velocity of the body part that he releases it through.
During the first phase, his own body will begin to shimmer as he becomes a receptor and storage for internal and external sources of KE. Gossk will charge up by using his own bodily movements (internal) and absorb most enemy attacks and environmental hazards (external). While there's no maximum to KE gathering, hoarding his own KE doesn't slow his movements, nor does absorbing attacks reduce the damage done to him.
Once the second stage is triggered, Gossk must unleash all of the hoarded KE as rapidly as possible; Failure to do so will cause internal injuries while repeated failures eventually causes a mana backlash that temporarily renders Sunder Clout unusable. His KE blasts take on the properties of the body part. Energy claws and tail swipes are sharp and cut things as though he had cut them himself. Blunter parts of his body (feet, elbow, knees, head, etc.) will cause concussive damage instead. Another use are shock waves, which don't travel as far or as fast as his energy blasts, but they can knock down multiple enemies at once. These are unleashed by stomping, slamming his tail down, or body-slamming the ground. Lastly, Sunder Clout can boost Gossk's leaping distance, which is achieved by timing his jump as the KE exits his feet.
[::EQUIPMENT::]
* Primitive Club: Crafted from bone and hardened wood, and bound by strong plant bindings, this brutish weapon can inflict massive blunt trauma, especially in Gossk's hand. The club is clearly well used and is larger than the human-sized version. A critical hit can easily knock out a target for several minutes. However, against weapons and armor made of finely forged metal, this club will not last very long.
* Wooden Shield: Made of hard, chiseled wood encrusted with with rib bones, this shield is more of a buckler and has three jagged bones sticking out on the end that could penetrate flesh. It is braced via straps to Gossk's right arm. One might wonder why a naturally armored Dracodile would bother carrying such a weak shield, but then they might see that the rib bones have been worked on so as to try to catch melee weapons that strike against the shield. The shield is replaceable but making an opportunity like that in battle is priceless.
* Two 3-dose Potions: A pair of strange, filthy looking concoctions brewed by Dracodile shamans. Made of thick glass, the potions are large in the hand of a human and hang by tough straps attached to Gossk's belt. One potion, called Lurker's Patience, is a deep green color and one dose will greatly suppress Gossk's hunger and thirst for a 24 hour period. However, one side effect is that when Gossk breaks his unnatural fast, his first meal's nutrients won't be absorbed very well. The second potion, called Venomward, resembles actual blood and is an antidote that helps cleanse the body of normal toxins. It is normally imbibed but can also be used to clean a poisoned wound. For an hour after drinking, Gossk would be highly resistant to toxins in whatever form they might come.
* Large Satchel: A simple but sturdy bag made from the stomachs and hides of various swamp creatures. Inside are the following items:
* Shaman's Tome: A large collection of treated bamboo bark with weird scratches and marks on them. The bark slide smoothly into each other, making them compact. The tome primarily depict the words and images of Gossk's incantations that he is learning to master. The tome also teaches about magic in general but also knowledge of their people.
* Herbalism Kit: Gossk has rudimentary knowledge in herbalism and can reliably (given time) brew the two potions described above. This kit contains a rugged mortar and pestle, bone saws, knives, files, twine, needles, hooks, skinning tools, and myriad sacks and oiled pouches for storing organs and flesh. There's also a bag of various herbs and roots and woven plant bindings.
* Spyglass: A 18-inch long hollow metal tube containing two glass lenses that when viewed through makes objects appear three times as large. It can also collapse and telescope down to 10 inches if needed. Picked off of a foolish explorer, it took Gossk a month to figure out the true purpose of this tool. He often uses it to spy on a town's inhabitants a day or two before he ventures inside.
* Bag of Game Call Whistles: Gossk wasn't the only one around waiting for prey to come by. Driven hunters, desperate to attract game, would often use whistles to call their game, which often prompted Gossk's curiosity to seek the hunters out. He is utterly fascinated by the whistles' ability to deceive simple animals. He's still figuring out which whistle's intended game.
[::BACKSTORY::]
Gossk's background is long and complex, as it takes place over several decades. Dracodiles have extensive life spans, full of hardships, and therefore write their history in chunks that are most significant to them. These are often depicted on their clothing and in their homes. Gossk's story is one of rebellion and isolation, of ridicule and exile, of prophetic dreams and a quest for power as he meets his destiny. His experiences has led him to one conclusion, an inversion of truth that defiles everything: Something is not right, in fact, something is horribly wrong. Why is the world like this? How can it be fixed? Or are we all better off being... devoured?
Upon hatching and taking his first and only innocent breath, Gossk, like many Dracodile younglings, had to endure an elimination process upon hatching. Entire clusters of eggs would be put in special pens and left to their own devices; Only the few strongest Dracodile babies would remain after a few days and would be pulled out to be cared for by selected brood mothers. Gossk was a runt, in fact, he had accidentally been buried in the struggle and only found two days later by a egg-less mother who took him in.
The first year was horrible. Gossk struggled to keep up with his older siblings and peers, and never received praise for his efforts. The stark difference between him and the other younglings was strong enough to earn him a nickname 'Plum Rat,' for his eyes were a strange purple and indeed, was no bigger than a wild rat. No amount of discipline could straighten him out, leaving most of the caretakers at their wits end. The shamans got involved and took him aside, as theirs was a gentler claw, albeit not by much
To the age of ten, Gossk learned all the basics of his tribe's religion, customs, and primal ways. He excelled in simpler things, such as crafting, brewing, and magical incantations. But he had to endure ridicule from afar, as his peers soared past him in physical attributes and sport. His first hunt was coming up soon and, as a rite of passage, he would not be accepted if he didn't return home with food. Three years later, not only did Gossk return from his first hunt alive, he had captured a breeding pair of wild boars in a cage and explained to the chieftain and his council that they could raise the pigs as a backup food source when hunts proved scarce. Only a few Dracodiles at the time silently respected his ingenuity, but the beating that Gossk received for his impudence and outside-the-box thinking left him in his bed for a month. Still, he was allowed to pass his rite of passage.
From that point on, all the way to the age of twenty, Gossk kept to himself and the few shamans who befriended him. He put in minimal effort to contribute to his tribe and seldom did he partake in any festivities or social gatherings. The majority of his years then were spent in the Wilds, mostly lurking in the rivers and lakes. It is here that his thinking prowess developed greatly, as his power of observations led him into insights that, while inspiring and useful, would lead him to get into trouble once again.
It was on his 25th year that, as a mature young adult Dracodile, Gossk and all of his peers were allowed to express their scale-friendly (as in, non aggressive) emotions, mainly in the form of praise and recognition of their chieftain and his shamans, as thanks for all the things they had done. It is also a time for grievances and concerns, but nobody did that. Except Gossk the Plum Rat; Of course Gossk the Weakscale had something to say. In fact, the ceremony had purposely been scheduled when Gossk was not around, so as to exclude him. Fortunately, his closest friend, a shaman named Jikaa-Jigar, was able to inform him in time. As per ceremony rules, the chieftain could not retaliate while anyone spoke before him and everyone had to remain seated and attentive. Gossk proceeded to go on for 6 full hours, talking gently and respectfully, about all of his concerns about how the tribe was run by the chieftain; He listed all of their major events, showing his comprehension of their tribal history, and demonstrated with facts and numbers that all the failures and causalities that had happened was due solely to the chieftain's lack of understanding logistics and his thirst for war, that his council (most of whom were old shamans) were nothing more than yes-men. Gossk explained that their words were paved with good intentions but seldom rendered any advice that led to good decision making. Gossk concluded his speech, by simply stating that he does not hate them or think they are worthless, nor that he should be the chieftain. It was merely an observation.
The silence, a rare phenomenon in Dracodile society, lasted for five full minutes before the chieftain rose from his seat and towered over Gossk by a solid 5 feet. The chieftain stared Gossk down, the latter not daring to make eye contact, at least until the chieftain bid him to do so. Gossk's purple eyes took in the full image of the chieftain's face, and suddenly felt his first horn grabbed, pushing his head back down. Gossk understood this gesture, it was the precursor to an execution!
The chieftain then said that Gossk is to be killed, that he is a bad omen that should have been done away with years ago. In that moment, by the power of those words alone, Gossk experienced a rage unlike anything he had ever felt—he broke free and roared at the chieftain. This immediately caught him off guard as Gossk reached up as high as he could and blinded him in the left eye. Unfortunately, the chieftain still had his wits and instantly counterattacked by clobbering Gossk, resulting in his horn being broken after all.
A few shamans and several members of Gossk's family had to pull him away and shield him as the rampaging chieftain attempted to cleave him in twain with his massive jaws. They pleaded with the chieftain, 'Exile! Exile!' before he relented and ordered his head shaman to mark Gossk with the black claw. Confusion and disbelief consumed Gossk's mind as he endured this fate and no sooner had his vest been marked, he was escorted to the outskirts of their village and beaten to an inch of his life.
The next morning, once again, his friends—his few friends—tended to him and nursed him back to help, albeit they had to do so in a cave with an underwater entrance. For if they were caught associating with him, let alone helping him, they would be put to the fire.
For the next 16 years Gossk would experience the pain of solitude, for as a social creature, he was not content with simply feeding, hunting, and resting for days on end. For certain he would meet with his family and his shaman friends, and learn new things, current events, and be given supplies in exchange for freshly caught game. But as weeks turned to months, and then months to years, the visits began to cease, prompting Gossk to risk venturing closer to his old home in hopes of seeing them. He had been caught a few times, having barely escaped each time, but the consequence rendered him a wanted fugitive to be killed on sight. This forced Gossk to move farther and farther out until it would take a few days to reach home—it was at this point that he began to notice people of other races, which he'd had seen before when they came to trade with his tribe or desire safe passage through their territory.
Then, at age 41, Gossk happened to catch a group of shamans, some being his old friends although he almost didn't recognize them due to their scars and disfigurements. He had no idea what they were doing this far out, and moving with such a disciplined pace. He was excited, but afraid, afraid that interrupting them would end his life. Instead he followed them, and eavesdropped on their conversations. Apparently they had been doing this—whatever 'this' was—for the last two years, but they must do something about it. It was at this point Gossk took a chance and revealed himself, because Jikaa-Jigar mentioned him by name, saying that Gossk would know how to fix this. The strength of their welcome overwhelmed Gossk and put a flaming hope deep in his heart, assuring him that everything would be okay.
But everything was not okay. These shamans had been inspired and encouraged by Gossk's actions years ago and over the course of spying on neighboring kingdoms, towns, and even bandit lairs, they had discovered a plot to enslave the Dracodiles through seemingly peaceful trade negotiations. They still didn't know who was behind it all, but they asked for Gossk to give them his thoughts. They knew that he would have much to say. But they were wrong.
Gossk had long ago given up on his tribe and cared very little about what would happened to them. He did not care to explain himself, why should he? But their gaze made Gossk feel as though he was broken and useless, but he was surprised when they ignored his quip—they instead explained to him an ancient story about one other Dracodile who had purple eyes, very much like his own; He was a powerful warrior whose very word inspired countless Dracodiles (and other creatures) to his cause, his power was so great that Illorassk himself was said to dwell in his scales. They believed that Gossk was, in fact, a reincarnated form of the legendary hero.
Gossk, needless to say, didn't quite believe them, but again to his surprise, they suddenly left, each one going a different route. Frustrated by this turn of events, he yelled after them, claiming that he was his own person and not some expendable pawn to be used in some cosmic game of fate. He scolded himself for being weak, for talking to them and thinking things would turn out better. They were all fools doomed to die, just like him, and so would his entire kind someday, he thought. He knew the world was changing, but he had become complacent in his exile, just waiting to be killed and devoured.
Later that very same night, Gossk experienced a most vivid dream, in which the whole world was small and laid flat before him, so that he could see everything and everyone. Yet at the same time, his understanding was dulled, for the experience was painful and his vision blurred red as he tried to perceive what little he could. Then he would wake, each time crying out like a sick youngling. These dreams haunted him for months, making him utterly restless and anxious to the point of being unable to hold a rock in his hand. He could not stop thinking about the dreams, even as he went about his daily routines.
Each subsequent dream would reveal a little more, and a knowing voice would become clear enough for him to hear. It was speaking in a strange language that on one hand, Gossk couldn't repeat its words and on the other, he could feel the meaning of the words. At some point, perhaps as he turned 42, Gossk's dreams began to talk about him instead, laying bare everything he had done and failed at, just as he had did to the chieftain long ago.
Now, five years later, Gossk has steeled his nerves and prepared to venture out into the great unknown. His quest is simply to conquer anything, everything, and all things; He will suss out and usher all power unto him, devouring every foe. He doesn't know if he's now on a fool's errand, but his resolve has never been stronger—and that can't be wrong, can it? He knows that he has to save his brethren, somehow, before they become extinct. He could no longer afford to be lax and weak, nor could he ignore those damned dreams. So, with all the help that his true few friends could muster for him, Gossk will face his destiny and discover the truth.
But will he embrace the truth when he finds it?
[::EXTRA NOTES::]
- Gossk has a pet reed cat named Licks. Raised from infancy, Licks follows Gossk rather loyally for a wild animal. But truth be told, theirs is a symbiotic relationship, where Gossk feeds her reliably (and lets her clean his teeth for even more meat scraps) and she serves as an extra pair of eyes and ears, not to mention her silent companionship and commentary on his actions provides the driest humor Gossk has ever known. Licks got her name from her habit of not only licking herself and making that annoying klech sound, but also invading his nostrils when he's asleep.
- Dracodiles are draconic Beastmen, having some kind of lineage from ancient dragons. However, Dracodiles don't even call themselves 'dracodiles', and ignorantly view themselves as completely unrelated to dragons or crocodiles for that matter; Instead, they believe they are the divine spawn of Illorassk the Devourer, who is often depicted as a giant crocodile-like creature. Among themselves, they are known as Rasskarr, 'Sons of the Mouth.'
- Gossk's homeland, Rasskadia, is located on the northwestern coast of the Crystal Sea, bordering the Lost Woods' eastern treeline. It is a vast swampland, full of bogs and trees, with very few creeks. A few small islands hug their coastline, but they seldom venture out farther than that. Being quite distant from civilized folks, even that of other Beastmen, the Dracodile tribe known as the Rasskarr has very little experience and contact with foreigners outside of trade and other services, and has effectively remain unchanged by the times. They are highly religious and worship the beast known as Illorassk the Devourer, who is viewed as a deity of war, strength, dominance, order, and hunger. Thus, the Rasskarr are known for their anger, ambition, hunger, avarice, and aggression. Very seldom are they allowed to exhibit emotional displays of affection, love, mourning, sadness, depression, and submission. They are also purists and don't tolerate 'mutt' versions of their kind to exist within their villages.
- Gossk is considered small for a Dracodile, as his race commonly reach 10 to 12 feet in height and exceed 1000 pounds.
- Since Dracodiles do not have lips, they cannot pronounce certain sounds that are used in the common tongue, such as b, f, m, p, v, or w. They tend to substitute different letters that sound close enough when they speak a word. This actually makes their common speech sound very weird to those who speak it naturally.
- All of the quotes that are listed in the abilities section are actually famous last words.
Personality: A serious, rather no-nonsense type of orc. Though he can be aggressive and often times vindictive, he generally keeps a cool head and tries his best to take command of a situation if no one else does. A type of person who can easily find himself bossing other people around, who is smart enough to figure out people's talents and abilities, but doesn't understand their feelings well and can often come across as cruel or uncaring to people's own faults or issues. Tyrael can be kind, and often tries, but in a very aloof manner, as he doesn't want to let others consider his compassionate less they think there is weakness within him. Tyrael is the type of person who would gladly give to the needy, but isn't bothered by stealing from them either.
Bio: Tyrael Marchrosias is actually the son of an orc chieftain, and his true name is Kharn Urab Vorinclex of the Green Smoke tribe. Their tribe are known for their powerful shaman and totem warriors, but recently suffer from a schism in their religion, one that Tyrael unknowingly ends up making worse in his future. As a youth, Tyrael was but one of the many chieftain's sons, and thus had no real expectations to serve as either the chief, war master, head shaman, or any other important roles that weren't already fulfilled by his brothers. He often spent his time working in the forge but generally making personal projects as oppose to arms and armor for his tribe, though his teachers did praise him for his natural ability for metal working. When he wasn't working the forge he could often be found fishing, and rarely even takes up hunting, as he doesn't care for chasing down his prey.
As he grew older his family pestered Tyrael to at least seek a wife and provide children for the tribe, but even then he was unconcerned. He has always lived in the shadows of his father and brothers, and knew any orc woman that choose him only do so as a consolation price, knowing that any actual courtship is entirely political on behalf of his family. And thus he gave half-hearted efforts to ever really appeal to orcish women, having never really bothered to distinguish himself as a warrior or shaman. He knew it wouldn't be long before his family may try to cast him out for his laziness, but he never truly cared until one day the tribe did something he never thought they'd do.
They created an alliance with a mage college, offering the college safe passage through their lands as well asn an exchange in lore, and in return they would teach the orcs magic. In order to provide the college a form of collateral to ensure any mage's safety in their lands, Tyrael was volunteered to attend the mage's college. This not only allowed him to get away from his tribe, but also ensured that should anything happen to any mages in Green Smoke lands, Tyrael would be a bargaining chip that the orcs could afford to lose.
It was more politics as far as Tyrael was concerned, but it was one that he at least consented with. He didn't mind learning at the mage's college and figured it would be an opportunity to see new things and stand out. And indeed, Tyrael was quite an exotic feature at the college for a short while, as orcs were rarely ever seen especially in an academic setting. Tyrael grew to like the new environment, and had eyes for the various ladies that were more lithe and graceful compared to the brutish and bulker orc women he's familiar with. However the allure would soon fade as the harsh reality of college life began to settle in.
Compared to his kin Tyrael is quite intelligent, and was quickly able to pick up various bits of lore and magic at the mage's college. But his keen intellect could not compare to even the humans who came into the college practically masters of their crafts, and in comparison Tyrael's knowledge was infantile. His ability with magic could barely pass as an apprentice, let alone as a mage, and soon rumors began to circulate about Tyrael's purpose here. That he was only here due to the benefits of his family and now due to his own ability, that he was less of an equal, more of a show piece. He wasn't here for any academic purpose but just to show off to the rich nobles what an orc looks like, as he was passably attractive and docile enough not to seem barbaric.
Desperate, Tyrael started to focus on his studies more to prove his worth. He gathered lore and academic books to try and figure out how to use magic, but despite what little he could retain, he simply lacked the spark inside of him to cast even the simplest of spells. He could barely activate magic objects, even ones purposely made to assist in channeling a novice mage's mana, and he grew more and more desperate. He was considering quitting for the sake of honor when one day, as he sat alone in his room, he was visited by a raven.
In the Green Smoke tribe every orc is attuned to a magic beast. Many of the strongest warriors are attuned to creatures such as bears, wolves, or boars, while the wisest are known to have creatures like hawks, snakes, or foxes. For Tyrael his spirit beast was the crow. A small black bird, not as fearsome as the hawk but at least not as pathetic as the chicken. The raven represented cunning: the intellect brought about not by study or academia, but a keen wit, a willingness to exploit knowledge or the lack thereof, and a quick mind. The raven told Tyrael about the power that was within him, which only needed to be drawn out with the right ritual. While most mages learn via years of study and practice, someone like Tyrael who lacked that experience could easily gain magic more quickly and efficiently using traditional orcish rituals, ones that he never bothered to do as he was not a shaman. But desperate to prove his worth in this new environment, Tyrael didn't hesitate to enter into a pact with this mysterious being, gaining powers that he never quite learned the origins of until much later.
And just like that, overnight Tyrael learned magic. Though his skills were comparatively less proficient than his contemporaries, he was finally able to show that he could preform magic spells. This allowed him to be seen as an equal among his peers, and his careful use of magic allowed him to make up for his weak proficiency. Now that he could use magic, he began to devise more clever means to handle problems utilizing his spells and other mundane workarounds that he could convince other people is actually magic. While he would never become the best mage at the college, he could now say that he is one.
This new found acceptance allowed Tyrael to befriend people more genuinely, and in doing so he began to interact with more people and learn an outsider perspective on things he never really questioned as an orc. He learned how other cultures handled things, debated topics of politics and ethics, of military and economical tactics, and learned of lore that made Tyrael wonder more about the history of his own people. Namely, the existence of demons. One day Tyrael had begun classes studying demons, devils, and other fiendish creatures, and learned how they could influence even divine people via deception and careful wording. But the more he learned, the more Tyrael began to think that demons were not all too bad: often times the fault was in those who accepted their bargains without knowing what they signed up for. And just to prove this, one day Tyrael made sure to find his Spirit Animal and talk to her earnestly.
It was here that Tyrael learned the truth. His spirit animal transformed into an imp, a minor devil who correctly informed him that his magic was due to a pact that he had inadvertently made with the imp's Archdevil. Instead of copying the folly of many others an attacking the imp out of anger, Tyrael and the Imp spent some time getting to know one another and clarifying the nature of his agreement with the devil. It was fortunately not as bad as Tyrael thought: he simply needs to heed his patron's demands as the situation warrants. When or how would be conveyed through either dreams or the imp itself, who's name was Zastriel. Naturally, his soul would also belong to the Archdevil as well, but only after his death, and he is encouraged to further develop his power independently so that she gains more after he perishes. Additionally, Zastriel informed Tyrael that he does have a latent bloodline for magic, likely stemming from an ancestor long ago who may have struck a similar bargain for power as Tyrael did now.
With this new knowledge in mind, Tyrael continued to study at the mage's college, and one day would return to his tribe's lands to tell them what he had learned. But this is where things took a turn for the worse. Tyrael had began to court a young elven woman who had shown him kindness before, and using his new magical talents he would continue to court her and assist her in her endeavors, hoping that their relationship would blossom as time grew on. But soon Tyrael learned that she was also being courted by another man, a mere human squire who was about to leave for an adventure, one which smitten the elven maiden. In a jealous fury Tyrael went to confront this man and challenged him to a duel for her hand. But in that same fury, Tyrael slew the man in single combat. The duel was not to the death, and because he had spilled noble blood, Tyrael was exiled from the college and a bounty was placed on his head by the noble family.
He was forced to flee the city and return to his people, having brought some dishonor, however when he explained his situation his tribe was accepting. He had challenged the man to fair combat, and it had simply resorted in an accidental death, which was inevitable in such circumstances. Though this damaged relationships between the mage college and the orcs, they were tenuously able to maintain an alliance as Tyrael was forced to lay low until the whole thing blew over. Until then Tyrael found himself as a shaman of sorts, teaching others what he learned alongside his brother who was the head shaman. Though he was not formally a shaman by tribal law, his knowledge and expertise allowed him to teach the younger generation. For a short while, things were good. Until it wasn't.
Tyrael had made the mistake of earnestly telling his people, his family, of his magical origins, and where his tribe's powers come from. But such words were heresy: the tribe did not worship demons, they do not engage in foul blood sacrifices or any cruel rituals that would consort demons. However Tyrael's words still managed to convince some people, causing a schism in his tribe until finally his father laid a curse on Tyrael. He blamed Tyrael's thoughts and feelings on that elven woman that he had fallen in love with, accusing her or causing Tyrael to believe in demons and bring shame to his family. And as a curse, his father turned Tyrael into a woman, so that he would suffer from only being able to love himself, since he never thinks about how his family or loved ones truly felt, and exiled Tyrael or would suffer death.
Shamed, Tyrael fled his tribal people, leaving the lands behind with nothing but the scrape hides he could wear as clothes, and the demon spirits who grant him his powers. Now a woman, Tyrael has abandoned his old name, trying to take on a new life away from his past, and hopefully make something new and better with himself.
Equipment: Ironwood Bow - A Greensmoke specialty. A bow made of a wood as hard as iron, allowing for far greater penetration than a conventional longbow, but requires great orcish strength to draw. So powerful Tyrael has to use arrows made with thick wooden shafts just to withstand the force, and the arrows are strong enough to pierce metal armor and stone, even tear off limbs.
Ironwood Club - A deceptively simple looking bludgeon, but it's actually quite effective against most forms of armor and enemies. Sturdy yet lightweight.
Hunting Knife - A simple multipurpose steel blade. Can be used to cut or carve wood, skin or kill animals, and even chop food.
Targe Shield - A small metal shield. Light enough that Tyrael can use it while only strapped to his arm, providing him the flexibility of an empty hand to grab objects or handle a weapon. Though too small to reliably block attacks, it's designed to be easier to preform parries with.
Piecemeal Armor - Steel plates and tough leather to protect Tyrael's vitals. Currently consists of arm guards, a helmet with an iron mask, pauldrons, and greaves.
Abilities: Skilled Warrior - Tyrael is a skilled orcish warrior who uses his club and shield just as effectively as he can use his ironwood bow. A very brutal type of fighter who can also do some cunning things with his magic.
Demonic Magic - Tyrael channels demonic magic through his familiar, allowing access to powerful magics. Though he can't use them in quick succession, he recovers magic easily. His particular specialties involve summoning and controlling minor demons such as his imp familiar Zastrial, fire based magic, and transformation magic. Common ones include enchanting his equipment with fire to burn or melt his enemies upon impact, or turning his skin into stone to make it as if he's wearing a suit of heavy armor.
Demon Magics
Familiar - A basic spell that allows Tyreal to summon his Familiar, Zastriel. Tyrael can contract other creatures to become his familiar, but he can only ever have one familiar at a given time, so for now it's just Zastriel.
Contract - Tyrael can forge a binding contract with demons he's able to subjugate. The nature of the contract is highly dependent on what Tyrael and the demons in question are able to provide for one another, but typically what a contract allows Tyrael to do is to summon said demon to perform a certain task such as fight his enemies, and afterwards they are free from their contract and return to their lives. In exchange Tyrael may need to offer things such as money, a sacrifice, or if he's strong enough he may simply offer the demon mercy. If either side breaks their end of the contract, they are freed of any obligations related to the contract and suffer immediate and often lethal drawbacks.
Soul Binding - This demon magic allows Tyrael to bind a recently slain soul or spirit into an object to grant it temporary powers or to fuel magic. Tyrael often uses this magic to bind demons into objects to subjugate them, though he can use this spell onto other creatures as well if he can kill them. Soul Binding itself does no actual harm and only lasts for a few minutes before fading.
Flame magics
Green Flame - This spell is easy for Tyrael to use frequently, and effectively uses it the entire time he's in combat. He channels his magic through his weapon and causes green flames to burst out, leaping onto his opponent or anything else nearby. Burns extremely hot, but fades quickly after. Can cause things to catch on fire.
Control Heat - Another basic spell that allows Tyrael to manipulate existing flames. Despite it's name, he can only do a fairly limited amount of things with this spell, such as causing it to shift a few feet, increase or decrease it's tempature or simply snuff out. Useful for maintaining an existing flames or putting out large fires however.
Fire Guard - An advance spell that grants Tyrael a protective aura for up to eight hours. While active Tyrael is immune to the harmful effects of fire both magical and mundane, and the effects of the cold are dramatically lessen for him.
Pyrotechnics - Tyrael can target source of fire, causing either a burst of flashing fireworks or a disproportional amount of smoke to appear. The fireworks can stun anyone within close proximity due to the blinding lights and deafening noises, while the smoke creates a heavily obscured and toxic cloud that presists for a few minutes or until a strong wind disperses it.
Flame Blade - A strong spell that creates a magical sword made entirely out of fire. Tyrael can wield this weapon with no issues to himself. The weapon burns intensely and can melt through stone and steel with ease. Though it cannot physically block attacks, it also cannot be physically blocked, often bypassing the likes of shields and other weapons to strike and incinerate anyone beyond. While active Tyrael can summon and dismiss the blade freely. This spell lasts for ten minutes.
Transformation Magics
Shape Earth - A simple spell that essentially allows Tyrael to manipulate a section of dirt, rocks, or stone within a 5-foot cube. It can shift said stone a few feet, mold it into shapes or images, even change it's color and appearance. He mostly uses this to dig holes, though he can also use this spell to pack the previous mentioned materials into dense bricks, though they only retain their shape for an hour.
Stone's Durability - An advance spell that transforms Tyrael's flesh into a stone-like material, allowing him to easily deflect mundane weapons, even heavy weapons like warhammers. While the spell doesn't inhibit Tyrael's mobility such as jumping or swimming, it does increase his weight exponentially, which may cause unexpected issues.
Sticks to Snakes - This spell can turn a bundle of sticks into wooden snake like creatures. These creatures contain a numbing poison in their bites that lasts for a whole day, however the snakes themselves are not particularly tough but numerous. When slain they transform back into broken sticks.
Alter Form - A strong spell that Tyrael can only use on himself. It allows him to alter his physical form to provide various physical benefits, such as natural weapons like claws or fangs, additional appendages such as wings or gills, or simply change his physical appearance. However Tyrael must maintain a mostly humanoid form: he cannot use this spell to transform himself into animals. Additionally any magical abilities of certain creatures he's emulating are not copied over via this spell, only their physical traits. These effects only last for an hour.
Size Shift - This advance spell can alter the size of someone to either make them larger or smaller. Larger creatures will grow proportionally stronger while smaller creatures will become swifter. These effects last for about ten minutes.
Metal Smith - Tyrael's education and training has made him quite a skilled metal smith, and he also knows a thing or two about wood working as well. At the moment he doesn't have much in the ways of fancy weapons, but he intends to upgrade his equipment with given time and materials.
Extra notes: Tyrael makes it no secret that he is an orc cursed to be a female, nor does he particularly care to reverse it. Mainly because doing so involves killing his father, a task that is difficult both literally and emotionally, though he is working on a way to make a functional workaround his curse. Tyrael doesn't know his patron and Zastrial isn't telling him, not that he particularly cares either. All he knows for certain is that his patron is a woman and a war goddess, but hasn't otherwise told him to do anything or vow to any creed or oath.
Tyrael also has an innate ability to see in the dark, and thanks to his pact with a demon, he can even see through magical darkness. He is able to telepathically communicate with Zastrial as well as see through her senses. Zastrial herself is capable of flight, turning invisible, and transforming into three different animals (A crow, snake, or cat) while also being immune to fire and poison, though she's notably weak to silver weapons and more divine based magics. She's not a very capable fighter even if she can poison her enemies with her stinger (Or bites in animal form), but she can still assist in combat as a distraction. Her relationship with Tyrael is largely professional.
The bounty on Tyrael is still active, though only around the mage guild. So far no one Tyrael knows has gone after him but he knows that the family will likely still want him dead for killing their son, but he doesn't plan on either dying or asking for forgiveness. He doesn't regret what he did. Though he also doesn't know what happened to the elven woman he was courting and thinks it's best that if they never meet again especially under the current circumstances.
Note: To hide his race from other people, Aerex uses a less powerful version of his Chameleon ability to make his hair appear blonde and his eyes a more normal green color.
Personality:
Aerex is a introverted person, not prone to engaging in large social gatherings or groups. Running his tailoring shop on his own, he mostly keeps to himself and prefers to help his community through his tailoring skills. Keeping his social circle small, he cares deeply about the people who he trusts and calls friend, going to great lengths to satisfy their needs. At the same time, he can be seen as controlling with his attempts to keep people he really cares about close to him to avoid meeting the same fate as his parents. Lacking skills in conversation, Aerex compensates with a sense of style taught to him by his father. He will always look presentable for every occasion, but will avoid being the center of attention, especially during conversations and social gatherings. Aerex prefers to listen over speaking, only stating his real thoughts when asked. Usually, he will allow other people to lead, especially when among strangers, avoiding any sense of responsibility among those he doesn’t know or trust completely. Over the years, Aerex has buried a deep sense of regret and depression over the loss of those he loves through his work as a tailor and extensive reading. Aerex will go to great lengths to avoid trouble and confrontation with others, usually caving to demands if threatened with someone or something he cares about.
Bio: As every Grusk after the Crusade, Aerex was born to a refugee family. His father was an accomplished tailor, while his mother had retained the magic practices of their ancestors, and worked as a scribe. Before Aerex, the couple travelled from village to village, finally settling in a human settlement near Trantis. Aerex was born in an unexpected pregnancy, with neither of them planning to have children. Upon having Aerex, the two did their best to raise a child who would know his Grusk ancestry, but also keep it a secret.
In his teenage years, another family had moved in. The family's son, Joan became fast friends with Aerex, both boys sharing their fascination with the nearby forest, and their interests in the small insecf creatures and other animals that inhabited it. A few years later, Joan's family was killed in a freak fire, that destroyed their home and belongings, taking the entire family along with them, with only Joan managing to escale thanks to Aerex' heroics. Joan was taken under the wing of Aerex' family, becoming a part of it and even closer to Aerex. Eventually, the two developed a romantic relationship. As Aerex grew older, he began to have disagreements with his family, especially about hiding who they were, and the constant game of pretend they were forced to play in order to continue living among Humans. In a heated argument, he left, taking Joan along despite his protests.
Joan and Aerex travelled East, leaving behind the village of their youth and finally settled in Kalla. With what little money Aerex had saved, they managed to buy a house, which Aerex turned into a clothier store shortly afterward. In public, Joan and Aerex passed close relatives, maintaining their relationship private. Aerex became known as a master tailor in the small town.
Two years later, a courier delivered a letter to Aerex, telling him that his mother had fallen ill. In a panic, and regretting his decision to leave je decided to return to Trantis. Joan offered to remain behind and watch over their store. Despite Aerex' protests, Joan insisted and Aerex returned to his childhood village. By the time he had arrived, his mother had already passed, a week before his father had died of grief. Devasted by the loss, he gathered what he could carry from his old family home and returned to Kalla. Upon his return, he discovered that Joan had gone missing several days before.
For months, he searched everywhere, hiring bounty hunters with what little money he had to find him to no avail. Overcome by grief from the loss of his parents, and the heartbreak of his lover going missing, Aerex withdrew to the and long-winded process of tailoring, becoming a solitary and mostly silent young man. While he keeps to himself, Aerex contributes to the community through his master skills at tailoring and armor making, with many coming to his store to procure expensive pieces of clothing or specialized armor or accessories.
Hard light materialization- can create physical objects by compressing the light around him and forging it into a physical object. Small objects are quick to make, though the larger objects require more time and energy respectively. This sudden absorption of light can cause what can be described as a 'negative flash', a quick flash of utter darkness as the light is taken from his surroundings.
Tailor and Smithy- can mend clothing and gear for the party when they get damaged.
Chameleon- can alter the color of his appearance and objects that are touching his body.
Personality: Eduard is a reserved man, with a pragmatic view of the world. Despite his wealthy background, Koch keeps everything simple and efficient. In his life, everything, from the clothes he wears, to the way he speaks, to his tools, all serve a practical use. He sees any form of entertainment as a waste of time preferring instead to read when he is not working. When he speaks to others, he will always have a purpose for each conversation and dislikes casual or idle conversation. His interpersonal relationships tend to be rocky and unstable, especially with people who do not understand his personality and perceive it as lack of care or apathy. To those who do manage to befriend Koch, they will find in him a deeply caring man, who is always on the lookout for the well-being of the people he cares about even when he won’t express it openly. When working as a doctor, he will always keep things professional and realistic, unafraid to tell a patient the prognosis of their condition even if that is death. He is a responsible and orderly individual, who values honesty, directness and simplicity in conversation. During his time as a doctor, he developed an ability to read people’s body language which he uses to judge people before even speaking to them.
Bio: Born to a wealthy Human family in the city of Portea, Koch was raised by a loving yet strict family. As a child, he was instructed by the best teachers, from language, to the magical arts, history and geography, Koch was set to become the heir of a vast fortune and was raised accordingly. As a teen, he took keen interest in adventuring and sought ways to travel to other places across the continent with his family, while this was not always the case he enjoyed it every chance he got to leave his home. As the heir of Koch Family, he was frequently the target of kidnappings and assassination attempts. While some failed, he was taught how to keep quiet and protect family secrets. He was also instructed by teachers in combat. Koch became exceptionally skilled in sword combat, taking a particular interest in using a rapier to duel opponents. Koch’s life, despite the dangers was fairly normal for the heir of a wealthy family. That was until tragedy struck when he was approaching his 20th birthday.
His parents were seemingly struck by a disease overnight after their return from a trip abroad. First his father fell ill then his mother followed. Koch did everything he could, seeking out the best doctors through his grandfather and other family members. Despite his best efforts, ans those of the doctors his mother and father died a few days later. Traumatized by the experience, Koch stopped his education in business and took up medicine. He attended the most prestigious medical university in Portea and spent years learning the practice, eventually graduating as a doctor. After that, he left Portea, practicing medicine free of charge at small towns across the continent. He used his combat skills he learned at an early age to survive the roads and his knowledge in business to set up a travelling clinic that would move from place to place as needed. Eventually, he set up a small network of nurses and other doctors that had the same vision of providing medical care for others all over the continent.
-Extensive medical knowledge: Years of practice experience and his time in university give Eduard unrivaled insight into the medical field.
-Swordmaster: Training he received as a child and experience gained after years on the road make him a deadly opponent in combat even when faced with multiple opponents.
-Strategist: Koch was trained by several retired generals during his youth as part of his general education. While he is no military expert, he has placed what he knows into practical strategy that he uses to dispatch opponents when necessary. He uses strategy to wound opponents in an attempt to avoid killing them when possible.
-Discerning: Since he was a kid, Eduard had a natural ability to read people's body movements. This was picked up by one of his trainers, a former spy, who honed this ability into a useful skill. It was further strengthened by Eduard's time in medical school. At a glance, Eduard is able to determine whether a person is lying, being deceptive, or unwell.
Appearance: Sev's actual looks are very normal for Sylve, pale skin with short black hair, an unassuming face and stature. The only notable part would be his eyes, which are fully a brilliant gold, a mark of a distant Grusk ancestor. Using his illusions he almost always keeps his eyes looking more normal, but when stressed or low on mana his eyes will revert to their true colors. Likewise Sev prefers simple clothing that can be easily altered with his illusions, typically functional, if uninteresting, cloth tunic and trousers. The most distinctive item his carries with him is his spear, a token of his, admittedly short, military career and focus for the magic's he isn't gifed with.
Bio: Born to a poor family living in The Scar his parents quickly realized that some dormant Grusk blood had come to the forefront to give Sev eyes of a bright gold. Not wanting him to be persecuted for this heritage they kept him sheltered in their rundown home, only their most trusted friends knowing about his condition while others were simply told that he was 'unable to go outside due to a deformity.' As he grew older, Sev became envious of those outside, coming to hate his own eyes and wishing they were more normal. One day his Grusk blood manifested again as his years of desire and pleading manifested his first Gift, that of Light magic. His parents were hesitant at first, knowing that a Gift of light magic was as much of a tell as his eyes, but eventually they were forced to allow him out as his father grew ill in his age.
Sev quickly gained a reputation as something of a prankster, learning to use his illusions in subtle ways that others wouldn't even recognize as magic. Pranks quickly turned to petty theft and pick pocketing out of a desire to provide for his parents. During this time his second gift manifested, a more standard Slyve gift with Air magic. This continued for a while, but he wasn't as skilled with his air magic as he was with illusions and was caught when trying to rob a low ranking officer in the Sylve military. Sev was given the choice of losing his hand, a standard punishment for theft, or being drafted into the army due to his gift with air.
He didn't take long to realize he wasn't one for the military. His pranks were no longer considered 'amusing' or even just 'annoying' but earned him punishment. When he was caught anyways. Sev managed to squeak through the training, keeping his light magic a secret, learning a decent amount about how to use the air to assist him in combat. He also got a chance to learn magics from other elements, being given a magical spear to use to channel these other spells. He didn't get very far beyond basic summoning of fire and ice before he was shipped off, first to guarding some shrine and then to border duty, being told to 'keep practicing' so that he might become worthy of further training.
If military training wasn't for him, manning a border post was even worse, trapped in the middle of nowhere with a couple of humorless mooks. He lasted a month before he decided to slip away while out on patrol at night. He didn't even hear if the other guards reported him missing, they may have been glad he was gone after dealing with his pranks. Between his illusions, military knowledge and a life growing up on the streets he was easily able to find his way to a town outside of The Scar. Some minor pickpocketing to earn enough for a change of clothing, maintaining illusions on his whole body would get tiring after a while, he quickly moved on. Deciding to simply see where the road takes him.
Equipment:
-One Sylven arcane bladed spear used for casting in combat (typically covered in an illusion to look like a walking staff)
-Commoner's clothing
-Traveling Gear
-Light leather armor
Abilities:
Basic military training: While Sev knows which end of the spear to point at the enemy and can handle the basics of fighting he isn't a combat powerhouse by any means, relying more on trickery and speed than strength or technique to get through most fights.
Gifts of Air and Light: Sev is gifted with Air and Light magic due to his mixed Slyve/Grusk blood. In fact he is so adept with light magic that only the most stressful situations can disrupt the illusion over his eyes as he has been maintaining that spell for years without break. While the uses for these gifts are manifest, Sev likes using them in subtle ways that others might not even recognize as magic. Between these two gifts he has a number of preferred techniques.
-Appearance Alteration: Sev can cloak any object he touches in an illusion making it appear to be something it isn't. The illusions need to be the same general size and shape of the item in question as it doesn't alter the physical properties of an object and often simply touching an item cloaked in such an illusion will make it obvious the object isn't what it seems. The duration of the illusion varies based on the complexity of the item and mana invested, but can be refreshed so long as Sev keeps touching the item.
-Solid air: Sev can temporarily solidify air to mimic a solid object. The solid air remains more fragile than an actual physical grip but can still allow him to manipulate objects at a distance. When combined with his appearance alteration and illusions this can add some disturbing levels of realism to make people further question what is or isn't an illusion.
-Quickening: a Sylve army spell, it causes the winds around the caster to flow with them, allowing them to move faster, jump higher and pull off otherwise impossible moves. This ability speeds up his movements but not his mind, and while he has received training with Quickening he isn't overly skilled with it, preferring to use it for short, pre-planned bursts of movement rather than keeping it up throughout combat like many gifted Sylve do.
-Spell Mimicry: When all else fails, using his Air and Light magics together Sevuid can create the illusion of casting almost any spell he can think of. Be it summoning a dragon from thin air to darkening the sky with storm clouds, using light to create a visual illusion, with air magic to add gusts of winds and basic sounds to add realism to the effect, all while waving his arms and chanting can give the impression of casting spells of any sort. Of course it is all simply an illusion, there is no dragon or storm, as such Sev uses this ability only when needed as part of a greater trick.
Basic Fire/Ice Magic: Due to his affinity with Air magic he was taught the basics of fire and ice magic in the military, even being given an arcane spear to cast with, but he didn't get far. He can summon fire or ice at the tip of the spear, and even shoot them from the end (to middling effect). But he hasn't progressed much past that, often using these magics only to augment his combat ability.
Life on the Streets: Sev grew up as a pick pocket and petty thief, making him quite skilled at slight of hand and misdirection which he uses to augment his illusions. He is also something of a prankster, enjoying the challenge of pulling off generally harmless tricks on those around him without getting caught.
Personality: Kallen is cold and calculating inside, however he presents himself as a friendly people’s person. While he views people as tools, and he could care less about their lives; he also has a strong preference to win over loyalty. He is ambitious and decisive. He has an absolute fascination with history. He always repays his debts.
Bio: Kallen was born a distant cousin of the Calabris Family’s leader. He was raised to live as a ruler. A dominator of lesser beings. He was desensitized quickly to the pain of other beings. He was being groomed to compete to be the head of his branch of the family. He spent a lot of time in the Portean Library and his family’s library reading history books, specifically those about the lives of great leaders. Eventually, he simply read because he enjoyed reading about history. The lessons he learned were extremely valuable.
The greatest lesson he learned was how leaders, heroic or tyrannical, inspired loyalty among their closest followers. The great founder of the Calabris family was one such leader. As he grew up, Kallen watched the current leadership and started to grow distant from his family. He was disillusioned with their performance. Certainly, fear was an excellent way to dominate, but there would come a time when revolution would overthrow the empire the Calabris family built up. From what he could tell they were seeking power for power’s sake. He was interested in power, but he was not yet sure for what reason.
On his coming of age celebration the competition to take over this branch family of the Calabris family was decided, and in spite of his best efforts Kallen failed. He was left for dead by his competing brother: Petrus. He had failed before, but this defeat left him burning in fury and missing his left eye. Petrus had stabbed his eye with a dagger, and Kallen had just barely been able to protect himself from further damage, but he lost consciousness due to the pain, and Kallen imagined Petrus thought he had killed him.
He spent the next two years seeking out a replacement for his eye using his knowledge of history, and building a team to seek out ruins. He searched for a magical Grusk eye known as the Eye of Avarice. All other riches were to be distributed to the other members and in the case of death to their families. At the end of the venture, about three of the five members of his team survived their hunt, but he successfully achieved his new eye, and the members achieved their wealth. After going their separate ways, Kallen maintained contact with the survivors to use them in the future.
Kallen was unprepared for the cost he would pay to use the Eye, and continued wearing his eyepatch to protect him from mana fatigue. He spent until he turned 28 working endlessly on tracking Calabris operations, training as a wizard to increase his mana capacity, and searching for items of power to accumulate for the moment he would take his revenge upon his brother and his ultimate goal of taking over the Calabris family.
Equipment: Hand Crossbow: While not incredible at dealing a lot of damage, this weapon is an incredible poison delivery tool, and an excellent weapon for assassination.
Cockatrice Venom: Kallen has ten doses of Cockatrice Venom that will cause petrification to any living target it strikes within a minute or two depending on the size of the target. The processing of this venom is extremely dangerous making it very expensive and difficult to come across.
Wormwood Chest: This chest is made of living enchanted wormwood. It moves under its own power as dozens of little feet move it along with surprising swiftness. The chest is fiercely loyal to its owner and only upon the owner’s death or a written contract exchanging ownership can remove it from Kallen’s service.
Collection of History Texts: These texts have been collected over the years steadily by Kallen since his near death experience. He places greater value on these books than anyone’s life. His chest is packed with these books.
Wizard’s Staff: This simple ivory staff serves as a focus for the channeling of mana for Kallen’s spells. It makes for a decent weapon as well.
Abilities: Eye of Avarice: The Eye of Avarice is an ancient magical eye that grants the holder the ability to see the greatest desire of those they set their sights on. Channeling mana through the eye can increase the urge to act upon their desire, and with enough exposure can temporarily cause them to only be able to think and act on that desire. The passive effect of the Eye is always in effect, and constantly drains mana at a steady pace. Covering the Eye prevents this drain.
Control Magic: The pool of magic that Kallen has knowledge of is very much focused on support and manipulation of the battlefield. Very few directly impact individuals on the battle opting for manipulating terrain and obfuscating information. He feels that if a mage is to be a leader they should control the battlefield rather than create massive fireballs and conjure lighting to tear into enemies.
Soften: This spell reverses the effects of petrification. It is also used to soften otherwise hard objects. The harder the object the more mana is used in the process of softening. One cubic meter is the standard space in which the spell has an effect, but more mana can allow for a larger area. A smaller area will reduce the mana cost.
Counterspell: This is Kallen’s signature spell. The greatest amount of effort in his time spent with learning magic was with this spell. It did not help him during his greatest defeat as his brother knew not to use magic against him. Normally, it renders mana back to its natural state nullifying the effect of a cast spell at the cost of equivalent mana, but Kallen learned that if he timed his counterspell properly he could cause backlash similar to an improperly cast weaker version of the spell and accelerate mana fatigue.
Personality: Her time in the cult and time as a street urchin have shaped her entire life. Her time on the streets made her highly self-sufficient and perceptive. She is careful and cautious, always seeking to do things with the least amount of energy needed. If she had to eat or drink anymore, she would hoard and hide it to keep it from other thieves. Her valuable possessions are few and far between, limited to what she feels sentimental value from. She tries to avoid traveling with items beyond her needs as she feels it makes her a target for thieving and attack. She has an innate distrust of guards, nobility, and royalty from her time dodging them just to get enough food for the day.
The cult life has softened some of her habits, but many still remain from her early life. The main thing that has softened is her reactions to strangers. She is both warm and inviting to strangers, seeking to make them feel welcome and perhaps wanted. She is prone to be sultry and suggestive as per how her mother and friends taught her. Her demonic apotheosis has simply amplified this aspect as well as made her voice inherently captivating, giving it a seductive undertone and innate lilt. Once comfortable with someone, she practically lacks personal space and also tends to play tricks. If she takes a particular liking to someone, she will spend time as close as possible to them whenever possible. She will also, if that person sleeps, provide her lap as a pillow and stroke their hair through the night, singing a quiet lullaby.
She has a free spirit that leads her to do as she wishes, when she wishes without regard to laws, customs, or current company. She expects others to live according to their desires as well and will attempt to encourage them to find themselves and become who they want to be. She has no qualms about nudity and will often do it herself. She often spends her idle time lounging in the nude to enjoy feeling the air on her skin, ignoring any protests from those around her.
If idle, she spends most of her time singing, dancing, drawing, or painting. She is especially fond of drawing people going about their lives or people exploring scenic places. Another hobby of hers is swimming. She loves to be in the water and both play in it and dive deep into it.
Her personality reverts to her childhood when in danger. She will first and foremost protect herself and anyone she considers a potential or active lover. She will attempt to kill rather than incapacitate and flees if she has no advantage. She does not hold back at all and thus refuses to spar. When cornered, she bwecomes even more dangerous and aggressive. She does not maim or torture and goes for decisive strikes to conserve energy and mana. Toying with the enemy wastes her time and resources, so she tends to conduct combat in an almost heartbreakingly dispassionate manner.
Bio: Born a Sylve and orphaned at a young age, Tali scrabbled together a life on the streets as a waif. Her penchant for stealing, pickpocketing, and information gathering let her keep stocked on food and money through her direct stealing and brokering the secrets she uncovered. One particular secret intrigued her, though. It told of a group that worked like a family and had strange powers. People said they were a dark cult, worshipping demons. Talise, not believing in the supernatural beyond some magic, heard the possibility of a family and warm food and beds. She tracked down one of the cultists and followed them from the market to the wilderness. The cultist was not aware of the waif's presence, essentially leading her into the cave network that they used as a home. Tali found the place to be warm and inviting compared to her previous life, often smelling good cooking from the various homes of members.
After following the cultist to her home, Tali slipped in behind them, watching them for a night and gauging how likely they were to be nice. In the morning, she decided to make her presence known, thinking it was better to try first rather than wait longe rand risk detection. The cultist had magically detected her already but was curious to see what the girl did. The appearance in the morning was unexpected, but it was not unwelcome. The cultist saw the girl as a prime opportunity to have a child she never could as well as gain another member. Thylylla wasn't worried about being part of a cult and was only concerned about a family and home. The cultist, who introduced herself as Visaese, was more than happy to bring the girl into her home. Tali later learned she had become the daughter of the cult's leader.
Thus, from the age of 8, Talise lived in the cult, discovering the powers and worship were not rumors. She took to it well as the demon was always benevolent to those in the cult and the magic helped her to live comfortably. Despite not knowing what endgame the demon, a succubus, had, Tali was happy to reap the benefits. The cult itself was only formed of women, so no male role models existed for Tali. Instead, she was surrounded by strong-willed women who encouraged her to explore herself and become her own person. She learned many techniques for seduction as well as ways to bait people in with innocence. By the age of 12, she was already growing into a beautiful woman, likely a result of her mistress's influence, and used the skills with her criminal skills to help the cult grow and flourish.
As of her fourteenth birthday, the cult had grown to an impressive 214 members, including her. They were enough of a force to actually begin to evangelize to small towns in the area. While not exactly maligned, they were distrusted to be sure. The sudden appearance of a new goddess was to many a sign of dark intentions. The villages, while at first tolerant, had push back that resulted in their doors being closed to teh cult. Seeing the situation and having to resort to hunting and gathering to maintain their lives, the cult began to make plans for a ritual to create an avatar of their mistress. These plans would require a willing participant and a strong incantation. The original ritual would require no sacrifice except for an orgy, as befits a succubus. However, the original leader died under unusual circumstances, leaving her second in command at the head. Talise, being the adopted daughter of the old leader, knew far more than most. She knew the ritual inside and out as well as recognized the circumstances as obviously an assassination from the usurping new leader.
Unfortunately, the new leader knew Tali likely suspected her, so she gathered her inner circle to make plans. The ritual was changed to involve a virgin sacrifice and consume her blood and soul to strengthen the avatar's emergence. This meeting went by unnoticed by the rest of the cult, but Thylylla had snuck into an adjacent room and listened in, taking in the info for the new ritual. She later studied it, finding only the incantation and virgin sacrifice would produce the results. The new leader had a flair for the dramatic, so she suspected she could disrupt the ritual in time to prevent a sacrifice or at least prevent the avatar from being the usurper.
After years of service to the cult and not suspecting her being the target, she was taken in the middle of the night, bound, and sat before the altar. She was to be the final sacrifice to their mistress. Surrounded by her cult family and lorded over by the usurper, the chanting began. Little did they know that the incantation was too slow, the flourishes superfluous, and the dagger far too close to their virgin sacrifice. Tali knew the ritual and had begun the incantation under her breath as she loosened the bonds on her wrists. She knew that the ritual only required the incantation and dagger, so she sped through the incantation, speaking the final two words as she suddently slipped her bonds, grabbed the dagger, and plunged it into the usurper's chest, piercing her heart. The energy and ritual, corrupted by a nonvirgin, essentially devolved into the same result but with unpredictable consequences. The entire cult inside the cave complex, save for Talise, died on the spot, their blood and souls mingling above the Sylve. The ritual bound them to her, bombarding her with all the power from the collective life force and changing both her fate and existence. The corrupting of the ritual intrigued the demoness overseeing the cult. Being a succubus, she decided to let the ritual proceed and add in a couple "gifts" to the equation. Meanwhile, Tali passed out from the strain as she acended into full demonhood rather than just being an avatar of her mistress.
Upon waking, she discovered the "gifts" she was given as well as the new immortality from the ritual. The succubus spoke into her mind, commending her for her quick thinking and giving her blessing to go forth into the world with her new power. After that, her previous mistress fell silent, never again trying to control the life of her once servant. The years that have passed have led Tali to wander, following both her whims and the desire to help others. A long path of both assistance and destruction follows her, littered with old enemies, lovers, and victims. She is careful to avoid fame and recognition to prevent anyone from delving into what her powers come from. So, she wanders endlessly, sometimes disabled from mortal wounds, coming back to find the new enemy and destroying their life essence. She has no home, no land, and no alliances. She simply wanders to keep going and finding new things to disrupt and dismantle.
Equipment:
Cult robes: Magically enchanted to be unbreakable, unfading, and self-cleaning. It provides no additional protection. The clothing is specially enchanted to be removed with minimal time and effort, thus allowing her to mentally undress or redress over about a second.
Clawed heels: These high heels are enchanted to be similarly unbreakable, unfading, and self-cleaning. They are sharpened along the points and underside of the claws on the toes. She can use these as weapons. The claws can be magically dismissed to change the heels into open toed high heels.
Signet Rings: Tali has her own signet ring of her cult as well as the signet ring of her adoptive mother. Both are set with rubies and have the cult crest set over top of the gem. The metal of the crest and ring band are made of a gold/platinum alloy to maintain the gold apperance and strengthen the normally fragile metal.
Demon Bride's Veil: This veil was given to her by her adoptive mother with the message "Our mistress seems to have plans for you." It has magical enchantments to bind it specifically to Tali and can change apperance to any sort of head adornment as Tali wishes. It cannot be removed from Tali's possession without her consent or sufficiently strong magical suppression abilities. She normally keeps it as a veil.
Abilities:
Life Eater: As a demon, she does not recover mana naturally. She instead gains it by draining the blood and souls of creatures. The more intelligent a target, the more sustaining the feeding will be. She does not gain nourishment from food and drink, though she sustains no negative effects from them either. To feed, she either drinks blood or siphons the soul through her claws and mouth.
Immaculate Succubus: Her body produces waste of no kind, does not require any sort of breathing, and cannot do things like sweating. Any sort of dirtiness on her body or skin will be magically purged mere seconds after getting on her. Her body is free of hair except on her head and her skin is always flawless and unable to scar. Her breath always smells sweet and full of citrus. Her body scent is a mixture of a fruity orchard and vanilla. She has no need for sleep and has essentially limitless stamina. Her body is incredibly flexible, easily three times that of a Sylve gymnast. Her eyes can see in all levels of darkness, even magical and pitch black darkness. She retains the ability to see color in those situations. She is always in perfect shape, unable to lose her current form or even gain or lose weight or body mass.
Spellcasting: Her spells are mostly attack and restraint spells that will drain blood from foes to help her sustain her mana mid fight. She can also do life transference healing spells, draining some of her own mana and blood to restore that of a target. Her utility spells focus upon invisibility, charming, and illusions. These illusions can also be used to create clones of herself to take a hit for her as she moves out of the way or to confuse foes as she moves away invisible and her clone does something else.
Seductive Presence: She can use mana to enhance her already highly seductive qualities. Her presence near a target will attempt to enthrall their mind and cause them to obey her temporarily. She usually uses this to turn enemies against one another or draw a feeding target close. She can only have one target enthralled at a time and the effect lasts up to an hour at a time if she concentrates on maintaining it.
Demonic Resurrection: If disabled in some way, whether destroyed or mortally wounded, Tali will enter a form of stasis, her body reforming and healing fully over time. Once fully healed, she will rise again, though in a starved frenzy. She will drain the first target she can reach, regardless of their relationship to her. She cannot be killed permanently by destroying her body completely and her soul is nigh indestructible as well. Tali has no idea if her soul can even be destroyed and her mistress did not tell her anything about it. This also renders her ageless and unaging as well as immune to disease.
Flight: Though she can fly using only her wings, she also can magically fly at will. It does not drain mana from her as long as she flies at the same pace as her wings could carry her. This magical flight allows her to hover perfectly unlike winged flight.
Binding Mark: Tali can create a sigil on a target to provide them with resistance to charming effects and mental dominations not done by Tali. This sigil also marks them as her lover to other creatures, both visibly and through other methods of sensing relationships or mate status. When marked, the target and Tali share a telepathic bond that lets them communicate mentally as long as they are on the same plane of existence. Tali can have multiple marks, but she uses this ability rarely at most as it is saved for her most intimate lovers. The major downside to the mark is that the marked becomes almost unable to resist any charming or mental effect Tali produces. Another downside is that it requires a lengthy and involved ritual.
Extra notes: Tali is capable in a fight but operates as a roguish cad, hitting low blows and killing key targets. She uses her claws and clawed high heels in fights as her weapons. Her tail is used to disarm, trip, or lock enemy limbs. She keeps her wings folded down along her legs as a sort of skirt when not actively using them. Her eyes, when in the dark, glow fully red, including the sclera and pupil. As a demon, she is tougher than normal and can easily take strikes from most common warriors without harm. Stronger warriors can still harm her, though it is still not as damaging as to a standard mortal. Certain magical weapons can bypass this resistance. Her demonic "gifts" included making her into a hermaphrodite and making her selectively barren and impotent. She also gained a slight golden tint to her previously white hair.
Appearance: He usually wears stylish clothes, his regular clothing being a grey tanktop with a short green hooded cloak with a grey trim, along with brown leather pants, all top quality. His skin is a grey tone, with grey to blue lips and blood red eyes. Two small horns, perfectly hidden under his curly purely black hair. Slightly pointy ears and a sharp jawline, with his canines slightly bigger and sharper than normal. Slightly muscled thin arms and moderate sized, sharpened nails. He wears 2 rings on his left hand, both golden with some intricate designs on them, as well as gemstones, a green and a brown one, the green in his ring finger, and the brown in his index finger. His stage appearance is altered, with a lighter skin tone, black to blue hair, regular teeth, and a more rounded jawline, and blue eyes with regular colored lips. He also looks skinnier and without muscles. On stage, he wears a frilly white top with a corset-like leather midsection, along with green shorts with yellow embroidery, a matching green cape held together by a white and gold bow, and a beret-like hat with his favorite flower, a white nightshade.
[How he looks on stage, only differences are the flowers which are supposed to be white nightshade, the bow being white and gold, hair thats not braided, and a lack of stockings.]
Personality: Ingoleth is a cunning person in all its meaning. He knows his way to humans hearts and minds equally, and puts even greater effort to it when he wants something from them, often grooming them for long periods of time to get on their good side. He is unpredictable, often times pulling tricks up his sleeve that nobody would expect him to even have. More than that, he is very keen on details, especially so when it has to do with his goals. Hes a performer after all, he has the eye for attention to detail.
Bio: Taking it upon himself to learn all he can about the world he roams the lands, looking to collect useful information and also looking for opportunities to influence the world. He loves creating havoc and drawing attention to his "deeds". Over the centuries he has made a name for himself as a performer and made it his preferred way to get some juicy mana, however that doesnt stop him from making other types of spectacles, as to not keep repeating the same thing, rendering it dull.
He loves making life interesting, in his own way. One day it'll be a performance, another, an empty threat towards an entire city out of the blue. He is a sucker for inspiring both fear and chaos, as well as bliss and happiness in people's hearts, then tasting it for himself. Bringing out extreme emotion from people is his true art.
Being a well known bard, he is often invited to perform in royal parties, getting paid incredibly well for it. His talent is music, however he does love adding some flair to his performances with his illusions, making for a dramatic and truly outstanding performer. Performing in the streets isnt something he usually does, but its not an impossibility for him either.
He has his own companion, a fox spirit named Dixie (or Dix), that approached him, seeing potential in his chaos a century ago, and improving his trickery and havoc, giving him ideas for tricks Dix would never be able to do alone, and in return staying with him making sure her fun never ends.
Equipment: - 300 gold - a harp - a flute - a guitar - a medium leather backpack - a map - a custom camping multi-tool thats a knife, a lighter, a spoonfork, a cork opener, a can opener, scissors, pliers, a hammer, and a compass. - 10 rations of canned crab meat, cheese and bread. - a thermos.
Abilities: Bardic Mana Reaping: Ingoleth is able to feed on another's mana, no matter the range, as long as his actions have impacted the person's mind and/or heart. The stronger the feeling induced by his spectacles and/or performances, the more mana he is able to consume the moment said feeling emerges. Eye Candy: Ingoleth creates visual illusions of all shapes and sizes. The bigger and more complex the illusion is, the more mana is used. The illusions are very realistic, making for great distractions and effects, as well as hiding what he doesnt want you to see. More than that, the illusions can move. An illusion is made with a condition in mind, disappearing after its is met or Ingoleth wills it to. Ghost Sounds: Ingoleth selects a location to "broadcast" sound from. He can create any sound he wants, real or imaginative, including complex sounds like intelligent speech. More than that, he can control the volume of the sound, making the illusion sound like its farther or closer than it actually is. Additionally, he can create an illusion audible to a single creature, targeting their eardrum directly, with an increased mana cost. Cunning Tune: By playing his harp and infusing it with mana, he can create the following effects depending on which notes he uses: - Induce sleep: by playing slow and calming notes, he can induce either drowsiness or sleep, depending on how far he goes with it. - Induce hyperactivity: by playing fast and high notes, he can induce hyperactivity and restlessness. - Induce emotion: by altering how he plays, he can induce any emotion. for example, a calming song with a few high notes inbetween would cause irritation and anger. - Neutralize effect: by playing a very specific tune that is a minute long, he neutralizes any magical effects, enchantments or curses, on any non-sentient inanimate objects. Flute Requirem: By infusing his flute with mana, he is able to create a cone-shaped sound wave of 130 decibels (equivalent of a jet engine taking off), loud enough for anyone in the conical area to collapse from the ear pain. Also creates a harmless air wave. The farther someone or something is, the less effective. Its a killer move which consumes half of his max mana.
Extra notes and Trivia: - His favorite color is green. - His disguise is a bard, but he is genuinely interested in it, its not just a cover. He has extensive knowledge on music, dancing, and singing, and even a little on art, but he is only proficient with music, being average in the other two, with art being his worst bardic skill, which is okay for a wanted poster but still not good enough to hang on his own wall. That however doesnt stop him from using his illusions as a way to seem better than he is, whenever it is necessary. - He doesnt care what race or gender you are, you'll be treated the same. - He likes making up names that have meanings. - Over the centuries he has changed bardic personas, being in his third one currently, with his previous two being "Harpman Everfed", meaning "the man with a harp is never hungry", and "Sevag buttreck" meaning "Savage, but required". - His current bardic persona name, "Salman Beriedfolk", means "Salman has burried folks", referencing his previous 2 dead personas. - He changes his bardic personas every time he feels like changing his performance name and outfit. - Flute requirem is a tribute to his first bardic persona death, who was a master flute player. - He gets a new ring for every previous bardic persona. The gemstones are the color of each persona's eyes. - He has a house of his own, built around about 150 years ago in Portea with his first bardic persona's earnings, only to stage his death shortly after and rig his will's challenge as a means to decide who would win the house through a puzzle only he could make sense of, successfully "earning" his own house as Ingoleth instead of "Harpman Everfed".
Name: Ilrenyana Ilvaenur Rallienha Ilvaenur Age: 26 Race: Sylve Appearance: Ilrenyana is a fairly typical Sylve; pale skin and long white hair with dull blue eyes that almost seem entirely too lifeless for her general demeanor. Dressed in casual, though warm garb suited for colder climates, she is generally well kept. A bright blue gemstone earring is worn at all times, and she never seems to take it off. Generally, it always seems colder around her than it should be normally.
If one were to get those clothes off of her, they'd notice a rather intricate magical circle carved into the flesh of her chest and stomach, extending around her waist towards her back and groin. Clearly meant for necromancy.
Personality: Ilrenyana...at first she comes off as a jovial, friendly sort. A very charismatic, friendly, overall sort that everyone can get along with. A smooth talker, possessing a seeming charisma that makes people inherently trust her. Yet...even with that, people can't help but to notice something off about her. The general chill that follows her from place to place. The lifeless eyes which seem to contrast always with her smiling demeanor...but such misgivings are always assuaged by her friendly tone and casual lively demeanor.
Yet, anyone who actually gets to know her, will find a fairly strong contrast to her usual demeanor, the strongest of which is a simple casual disregard for most others around her.
With a dislike of difficult things, and a seeming callousness towards everyone else except her 'sister' she is a surprisingly violently carefree person always taking the easy and most direct approach to problem solving without a care for the consequences. The same goes for her leisure activities as well - whatever strikes her fancy at the time, whether it be a brothel, bakery, taking candy from a baby or any random number of activities. If it seems like she could have a good time with it, consequences be dammed.
The same attitude is held towards the jobs she takes. Assassinations. Thievery. Those seeking necromatic services. She takes a particular bit of, lackadaisical delight in tormenting people that becomes involved in such endeavors. Can't fail a job if everyone dies. Besides! More corpses for research in that case. Maybe she could make a fun little pet for Ralli!
Bio: The earliest memories Ilrenyana has, is of losing her parents, and being taken in by some uncle of theirs. A rather quiet, but astute and friendly man who raised his two nieces with as much care as a parent could.
Ilren spent her time honing her archery skills while Rallienha would spend her time acquainting herself with magic, and eventually roping Ilren into it as well after some time. Eventually Ralli would start dabbling in less accepting forms of magic, at some concern to Ilren...but of course, what was she going to do? Tell someone? She didn't want to lose her sister.
Unbeknownst to her at the time, it had been her uncle that had been teaching Ralli about such practices. He was preparing Ralli to become his successor - for years he had been practicing necromancy since his youth, and had deemed her enough to become the one to inherit his teachings and everything else he had learned. She'd just have to do one thing.
A ritual. Ilren dying.
Ralli refused in the end, and ended up being the one sacrificed herself.
In a fury, Ilren killed her uncle after finding out. In an attempt to save her sister, Ilren took what she knew of magic, using her own body and flesh to act as an anchor for her sisters soul - but as young and inexperienced she was...something went wrong. Her sister turned out...different. Lacking a physical body and looking so much different from before.
Ilren didn't care. She still had her sister, and Ralli was her sister no matter what she looked like.
Since that day, she's been making a living by performing...less desirable tasks for people who pay good enough. She has no grand ambitions other than finding a way to completely resurrect her sister. Everything else can be damned as far as she cares. Her life continued like that for a few years, at least until she started getting too notorious in certain more reputable circles. It was then someone by the name of Sahale made her an offer. She could continue as she was, and likely end up dead some time soon...or take an offer of more official employment, and as long as she behaved herself on the job, have a place to stay and some sort of semblance of protection.
Well.
It was a good deal, and she had started to get annoyed by all the attention anyways. So of course, the logical outcome was to accept. Equipment:
A 'Wailing Bow' that heralds the arrival of the dead. This bow needs neither a string nor arrows to actually work - just a mage somewhat versed in how to manipulate magical energies. The bow, made of smooth black wood and finished with feathers and with a red bow tied at the end is cold to the touch. Its ability is rather simple - arrows fired from this bow are magical in nature, bypassing most mundane armor. Falters against more magical armors, but that's what actual arrows would be for.
The blue earring upon her ear. A simple artifact of necromatic nature. Effectively a storage place for souls to be stored for later use in any number of rituals or spells. The imprisoned souls eventually will be reduced to madness. Cold to the touch. Hold it to your ear, you might hear a frightened shriek.
The Runes upon her flesh are of clearly necromatic sort meant for the sole purpose of binding her sister to herself. Intricate, and while some parts seem to have at one point been crude and haphazardly made, it seems they have been refined over the years as whoever was making them became more practiced in the art of necromancy. Effectively, this makes her 'Sister' her complete and utter thrall that will protect her at whatever cost to itself.
A pair of daggers she uses for both self defense and in necromatic endeavors. Magical runes engraved upon them allow one to 'trap' a soul of sorts into a corresponding container so long as its relatively recent. In this case, its her earring.
Abilities: Necromancer: Ilren is well versed in necromatic arts. Raising the dead, using the dead, commanding the dead. Life draining curses. This is all well and good and all, but most of her repertoire would actually be focused more on buffs for herself, or debuffs for those she's in conflict with. Has a fairly good grasp of most necromatic rituals and dealings, and can reasonably deal with such things. Most of her magic comes from one of three places - the Bow, drawing from the power of her Sister, or the Draugasteinn which contains most of the souls she feeds to her sister.
Rallienha - Enslaved Soul: Summons a portion of her sisters trapped soul to strike at enemies. A temporary manifestation, typically using the skeletal maws on her arms to attempt crushing and striking someone. This is usually performed by Ilren making movements similar to what she wants Ralli to make. A punch will result in a punch, a kick will result in a kick. That sort of thing. As this is a temporary manifestation, its relatively low power.
Grave Arrows: While the arrows fired from her bow are magical in nature, they are typically no better than your usual arrows. A few magical tricks and maybe a gesture or two, she can imbue normal arrows with a number of other effects aside from their usual cursed arrows. An arrow burning with blue fire that explode upon impact. An arrow that will summon a specter that will relentlessly attack whoever it hits. An Arrow that will summon spectral hands from the ground to snare whatever is above them. Trip wire arrows, that if are crossed once laid will release a loud shriek and a specter to attack a foe. Her favorite though, is a 'Possession' Arrow which acts as a forcible way to possess someone with a spirit. At best, they'd simply find their movements slowed as the spirit wrestles with them for control of their body. At worst, they'd fly into a rage filled frenzy and start attacking friend and foe alike. Rather draining, but fairly effective. Parting Step: Asking for some help from her sister, Ilren cloaks herself in her sisters body, effectively rendering her temporarily intangible and incorporeal, allowing her to 'jump' some distance away from her current location. Useful for remaining unseen, and slipping into areas otherwise inaccessible. Can not pass through solid walls, and must have a direct line of sight to do so. A range of only a few meters.
What remains of her sister, contorted and twisted by necromatic practices. A large, ghostly entity seven feet tall and seeming to be some amalgamation of animal parts and Sylve. Normally unseen, bound by chains and imprisoned within her own soul Ilren and Ralli have become intrinsically linked thanks to the necromatic runes keeping her soul tied to Ilren's.
Ralli takes the form of some spectral female humanoid - very much a case of the longer one looks, the worse it gets. Where her hands should be, are instead skeletal maws, twitching and jerking, sudden quick movements at all times. Her face, obscured by the furry mantle that is attached to her head seems hauntingly beautiful, until you realize the entire flesh from the middle of the nose up has been completely sheared off, leaving nothing but eyeless skeletal sockets. Chains bind her arms to her body tightly. When summoned in full they'll release and allow to be used as weapons of sorts.
When summoned, Ralli makes use of her strength and undead nature to deal with anything that would threaten Ilren with a variety of abilities. A few more notable ones include: A piercing shriek that induces temporary paralysis in a human. Superhuman physical strength Incorporeality and 'blinking' - able to temporarily render herself invisible, gaining great speed when she does so, but unable to hurt things while in this state.
Her intelligence is questionable, and Ilren swears she talks...but only to her. It should also be noted that while Ralli is summoned, Ilren herself becomes extremely weakened, unable to access most of her magical abilities as any energy she has is being given to sustain her sister's corporeal form. Ralli is unable to go very far from her sister.
Extra notes: Might like undead a bit too much. Especially her sister. Spends a good portion of her free time experimenting on corpses. Likes making horrendous chimerical undead abominations because she thinks they're cute.
Appearance: Standing in at barely over 5 feet in height, its relatively easy for Elena to be displaced in a crowd. Her face is pale and round, and she has clear, clean skin, soft and perpetually cool to the touch. Along with her long icy white-blue hair, its easier to notice Elena's Isoli heritage. Her eyes are a soft purple, and seem to glimmer with even the slightest shift in the light. Her small frame, while appearing dainty and light, belie a surprising amount of raw strength and fortitude.
Notably, a pair of small reddish horns protrude from the sides of her head, revealing the other half of Elena's heritage. Elena takes extra care to hide these, and will often wear hoods or headwear to cover them. Since Elena, like most of Isoli heritage are more or less indifferent to colder temperatures, most of what Elena wears tends towards dainty and lightweight clothing, in styles reminiscent of Lady Lonnette. Elena is often seen with a large Red Saints cloak over her frame, hiding her horns and noting her as a member of the order.
Personality: A bit of a wallflower, Elena is in general fairly quiet and soft spoken, preferring to stay in the background, though she tends to be more playful and outgoing around her friends. While actually rather intelligent and perceptive, Elena has a habit of missing details, is somewhat clumsy and can be generally regarded as a bit of an airhead. Friendly and amicable, Elena's demeanor is generally cheerful, and though she is timid, she is neither meek nor cowardly, and her displays of anger and determination can be surprising.
As a part of her somewhat closed upbringing, Elena is a rather curious individual. Not to the point of poking her head where it doesn't belong, but Elena does possess an innate adventurous streak. Having grown up as a ward of the Red Saints, altruism and charity are also core parts of Elena's very being, and appear to have been ingrained in her nature. As a result, Elena tends to be over-trusting, believing in the goodness of others. Not completely gullible, Elena does have the sense to know when something is wrong- though it often doesn't stop her from getting into trouble before it happens.
Surprisingly brave for someone so small: Elena, while not violent by nature, can be exceedingly protective over those she finds in her care, fussing over their wellbeing, and quickly rising to their defense when necessary. Despite her protective nature, Elena considers herself a non-combatant, and typically avoids conflict when possible. When spurred into conflict, Elena can be a truly vicious opponent. Elena is keenly aware of a more sadistic, bloodthirsty side of her that seems to appear when she fights- and fears it, typically attempting to end fights as quickly as possible so as not to allow it to overtake her.
Bio: Elena was born to demon father and isoli mother. As a child, Elena was found half buried in a snowdrift several miles away from Midrill, her mother and the remains of their raided caravan not far away. While they were rescued by a small group of Red Saints on their way to Portea from Midrill, Elena's mother would ultimately die as a result of her injuries. Taking pity on her child, the Red Saints took in young Elena, taking her back to Portea where she would become a ward of the Red Saints.
Elena's earliest memories are of running up and down the halls of the Lonnette Church of Sandrine in Portea. Most of Elena's childhood was spent in relative peace- she didn't have her parents, but the Church of Sandrine was a stable presence, and the members of the Red Saints were always good to her. Courtesy of the Lonnette family, Elena was afforded a high quality education. In return, Elena assisted the members of the Red Saints in their various tasks and businesses from a young age- particularly Mother Esper.
Mother Esper had noticed Elena's demon heritage long before her horns had even begun to grow in, and was quick to take Elena under her wing. As Elena grew older, Mother Esper was ever by her side, guiding her through life as both a demon, and a member of the Red Saints. Elena learned how to utilize- and more importantly how to control her demonic abilities from Mother Esper. During these formative years, Elena's Isoli side also began to bear fruit. Elena discovered she possessed the ability to cast Isoli healing magic in her early teens. In the next few years, Elena would join the ranks of the Red Saints in earnest, healing and protecting those in need- though never being allowed to leave Portea.
Another constant presence throughout Elena's life, aside from Mother Esper, was the Lady of the Lonnette family herself, Cinclaire. Being so close in age, it was unsurprising that the two girls quickly grew close, becoming nigh on inseparable at one point in time. While never part of the Lonnette family herself, Elena came to view Cinclaire as an older sister, and became an adoring and ever staunch supporter of Cinclaire's role as leader of the Red Saints- despite whatever the naysayers might have said.
By the time Elena turned 18, she had already become a regular fixture in and around the Lonnette districts of Portea. A well known member of the Red Saints, Elena earned a small amount of attention as one of the Saint's preeminent healers, and her powers were regularly sought out. While the popularity brought in no small number of donations to the Church, it also attracted on occasion negative attention as well. After more than a few close calls and run ins with danger, Mother Esper saw to it that Elena began learning how to protect herself should another future situation arise.
Now 23, Elena acts as Cinclaire Lonnette's eyes and ears outside the Church and Portea, a trusted confidant and sister. While Elena is loathe to leave Cinclaire's side, her inability to leave the walls of the church itself necessitates Elena's excursions beyond Portea. Word that the Calibris family had begun making moves in Kalla have reached Cinclaire's ears, and as a personal, private favor, Elena has been asked to investigate their movements on Cinclaire's behalf. Now under the guise of a traveling Red Saint, Elena journeys to Kalla, hoping to uncover whatever plot the Calibris family is planning, and put a stop to it if necessary.
Equipment:
A gift given to Elena by Cinclaire on her 20th birthday. A finely crafted, if simple staff of wood and metal with a round crystal at its crux. Though the staff itself is quite heavy, in the hands of the Red Saints, it feels surprisingly light. This staff serves as a focus for most of Elena's magical abilities and can manifest a scythe blade that Elena uses while in combat. The size and strength of the scythe blades are influenced by the amount of mana channeled into it. The staff can also use mana to propel itself through the air, allowing Elena to ride it as a mount. Travelling across the ground at low altitudes requires a sustainable amount of mana. Flying through the sky is considerably more taxing
Red Saints Garb - A set of clothes and cloak enchanted by spellcasters of the Red Saints to be more durable than average cloth. The enchantments don't provide any additional protection, but merely prevent the clothes from ripping and soiling through regular wear and tear. While her typical clothing is light and somewhat revealing, she usually wears a hooded cloak over top to cover her horns. When attempting to appear more inconspicuous, the red and white cloak is traded for a plain traveler's cloak.
Knapsack - A small backpack for carrying travel supplies. Elena will typically carry a small amount of traveling rations, a waterskin, as well as mundane medical supplies such as clean cloth, a needle and thread, herbal ointments, and strong spirits.
Lyre - A finely crafted, but otherwise mundane lyre.
Writingale - A magical piece of parchment bound to a pair of bracelets that messages can be whispered to or written on. Once signed, the parchment folds into the form of a bird and flies to the opposite bracelet. Elena possesses one bracelet, Cinclaire the other.
Abilities:
Healing Expertise - Like many Isoli, Elena is a very competent healer, capable of casting potent healing magics. Additionally, through years of education within the Red Saints, Elena is also very knowledgeable about mundane methods of healing. Elena stands among her compatriots as one of the order's most potent healers.
Polearm Adept - Elena is talented combatant, capable with a variety of polearm type weapons: from sturdy strikes with her staff, to powerful sweeps with her scythe. Though the Red Saints are not a militant order, the ability to defend oneself and others comes paramount, and many of its members train in different schools of combat. While not as proficient in martial combat as career soldiers and veteran mercenaries, Elena's prodigious strength allows her to adequately defend herself against most foes.
Half-Blooded Demon - Though her parentage is unknown, Elena possesses the blood of demons in her veins. While not to the degree of a full demon, her strength and speed are greater than that of an average human, and her body is hardier and tougher. When in danger, her body automatically causes her fingernails to elongate like claws and burn as the cut.
While the lion's share of Elena's mana comes from her natural reserves and regeneration, she is also capable of drawing small amounts of mana from those she causes pain to. While the amounts aren't substantial enough for large feats of magic and healing, they are enough to fuel her combat abilities. Drawing mana in this manner causes Elena to feel a mildly euphoric sensation, causing Elena to become more aggressive the longer a fight extends.
Magical Abilities - In addition to her healing magic, Elena is capable of casting a variety of minor magical spells. Moving small objects, small bursts of fire, flares of light and other small cantrips make up the bulk of her magical abilities outside of healing.
Novice Musician - Elena is capable of playing musical instruments, particularly the lyre. She is neither amazing nor mediocre with it, and is capable of carrying a soft, peaceful tune.
Appearance: Tall and slender unlike many of his tribe who prefer to be bulky and strong. He stands 6’5 and does not come off as intimidating. Instead, his form appears more built for speed than anything else.
Personality: A quiet young man that is more observant in nature. Perhaps more mature than his age he tries to cut at the heart of things with his words and actions. A neutral figure in most cases he would rather let two people fight than stop it but would attempt to save who he can from a burning building. He eats only fresh foods and has a curiosity for everything.
Bio: Born from a successful tribe of large game hunters Zephel was the runt of not only his family but his entire tribe. This made physically hunting his people’s favorite meat hard to do. With his superior speed he could hunt many smaller creatures, but without the strength needed he could never be more than a low-level hunter. Destined for mediocrity he began making traps. At first, they were weak and ineffective, but over many years he perfected the traps he made. Catching larger and larger games without needing the strength to apply his people's hunting strategies. However, this form of hunting put him at odds with the elite hunters who were successful with strength and skill. He was often ridiculed for his traps despite how successful he was.
This led him to be banished. Not for his traps alone but for his one mistake. Traps often are not set to discriminate on what enters their ensnarement. And for this, a hunter had to suffer what was meant for a beast. Zephel began wandering the lands with nothing but his knowledge of traps. He managed to find ways to make ends meet. Either through selling beast hides or their meat. But only after thieves fell into his trap did he have a taste of what else he could do for coin. He began hunting wanted criminals. Finding a fair bit of success when working with others who were willing to share the bounty. His ability to scout safely made him ideal for aiding in larger bounty hunts.
He was able to begin his journey into technology in Portea. Being initially ignorant of how certain tools worked he began to comprehend their ways by buying books and asking those more knowledgeable than him what they knew. Once he discovered electrical currents and what materials allowed them to be used properly he sought those and other items that would allow him to wield this power even more. Without a home, he put all of his resources into knowledge on magic, technology, and enchanted items. Soon he was capable of either crafting or purchasing what he could use for his traps to advance.
He spends most of his time now in Portea, traveling only for pay or his search for advancing knowledge.
Equipment:
A small assortment of items was placed together to form new contraptions. Electric Trip wires - A line of metal wires that conducts electricity. He often places them around beforehand so one can walk into them.
Lightning rod - A metal pole that has been struck by lightning, and with its enchantment, retains some of its power. This pole has been fashioned with a rubber handle to reduce the voltage for the wielder. Used to prod and stun small creatures such as rabbits with only a tap. Larger creatures, such as Dogs, are effectively shocked but not immobilized. Only by amplifying the voltage by waving his hand over the other layers of enchantment on the pole does he reach a level that can stun Bears briefly. It has three levels at max. The final level is able to release a single but powerful jolt that can cook flesh or floor a large beast. After this jolt is released it needs to recharge.
Electro spheres - Orbs that can conduct electricity and can be harmful depending on how much is inside of them. Releases an electric field up to 10 feet.
Arm bolt - A small crossbow for his metal spike arrows. These small arrows attract electrical currents up to 5 feet.
Storm Converter’s Garb - An outfit made with many rubbers, even having a rubber cape and goggles. The metal protection on the shoulders resembling royal cloaks attracts electricity while the gloves repel. This allows the wearer to bring an electrical current to them and change its direction. This is due to the wires that connect throughout the upper body of the outfit.
Abilities:
Ragnikai - His tribe used strength, technique, and a bit of magic to apply enough force to their strike to stun or wound large beasts. They focused on hitting the right areas and using team tactics to get close hits in. Zephel was trained in this too. Though he did not master it he is capable of applying a "Ragnikai" strike to beasts and humanoids at times with decent effect.
Speedster - Built for high-speed running he has excellent stamina and speed. He can perceive things at a high rate of speed.
Hunter’s eyes - He can more easily perceive living camouflaged creatures in the wilds or even in the shadows.
Engineer - A mind geared toward solving practical issues with materials he can solve certain problems with relative ease.
Extra notes: Sundor - He owns a blue-colored falcon he uses for scouting. It is trained to make noise when a target is visible below it as it soars the skies.
Personality: From an outsider's perspective, Autumn appears as little more than your typical dumb muscle. A tall, heavily-tattooed, battle-scarred warrior with poor manners and who struggles to speak properly could be the description of any bandit, and unfortunately it's also a very fitting description of Autumn.
But behind her savage appearance is a thoughtful and good natured young woman. She loves learning about new things and meeting new people, and is constantly on the lookout for the opportunity to experience something new. She always tries to put the needs of others above herself, and is quick to defend those who cannot defend themselves
However, Autumn is also very morally righteous. The suffering of others disturbs her, and she is quick to anger when she sees injustice. While these would normally be good traits, Autumn has a very black-and-white worldview, and she finds it difficult to apply nuance to any moral situation. People who are good must always be good. People who are bad must always be bad.
Despite having left the Dryak clans a long time ago, Autumn suffers from a slight case of androphobia. It's not that she dislikes men, but she is distinctly aware that Dryak society has very different gender roles compared to the societies she now, which makes her apprehensive. She knows enough that things are different here, but she isn't confident enough in her own knowledge to trust herself to act in an acceptable manner.
Bio: The world of the Dryak is a cruel place. Dominated by sprawling forests and crawling with the kind of animals that just get angry when you stab them, only the very toughest societies can thrive here. There is no place for the weak among the Dryak, except in the belly of some monster.
This is the society that Autumn was born in to. She was the eldest daughter of a noble family of the Clan Amelion, one of the mightier tribes in her region. Don't be taken aback by her aristocratic background, however - a noble who does nothing is hardly a noble at all to the Dryak. Even as a child, she was expected to stick in and help out the tribe as much as possible, and much of her time was spent gutting fish, tending crops and patching holes in the walls.
When simply travelling from place to place is potentially life-threatening, it is also imperative that people learn to fight well. In this aspect, Autumn was a prodigy. She took to fighting like a fish takes to water. This is really where her wealth and status gave her an advantage, since her parents could afford the best possible tutors. When she wasn't training or helping out with the tribe, she was watching duels at the local hillfort and studying the tales of legendary heroes of the past for hints that could improve her technique.
As she reached her teenage years, Autumn was no longer satisfied with just training. She started looking for real fights to get in to. It started off harmlessly enough: accompanying hunting parties, practice duelling with members of other clans, that kind of thing. Her parents did start to worry when started returning home with blood on her sword, but it wasn't until she returned home on the night of her 18th birthday carrying a chest full of loot that the clan elders finally got involved.
It turned out that Autumn and her friends decided to celebrate her birthday by organising a raid against a rival clan. The wealth they took was substantial, but the elders were worried that having a bored young noblewoman raiding their neighbours would quickly cause more trouble than it was worth. So, they did the only thing they could that they thought would sate Autumn's ambition. They invited her to become a Champion.
This was no small thing. Champions were considered the pinnacle of a clan's warriors. To be a Champion was to become a living representative of everything the clan stood for; it was they who enforced the rulings of the elders, they who defended the clan's honor when another clan slighted them and they who led the charge should the clan ever go to war. This was the highest honor a warrior could be bestowed, and Autumn accepted it wholeheartedly.
Autumn was a good warrior, but her promotion was not well recieved among more conservative members of her clan, who saw this as the elders rewarding someone for being unruly. Though the promotion did buy them peace - Autumn never went on an unauthorised raid again - the circumstances through which she earned it irked them. Though she couldn't have known it, Autumn had accidentally made enemies of some very powerful people, and that would have consequences that no-one could predict.
The Amelions had always been a powerful clan, and by the time Autumn had come of age, they had were more powerful than almost every other clan combined. There was only one obstacle between them and total control of the region: Clan Morningsong. The Morningsongs had the wealth and the power to rival the Amelions, and couldn't simply be bullied into submission the way the weaker clans could. The clan's elders were split on how to deal with them; a war would devestate both clans regardless of who won it, but they had to pacify the Morningsongs before their dreams of Dryak unity could be realised.
But some of the more diplomatic elders had another idea. Why not merge the two clans into one? This would avoid a costly war, preserve the dignity of both clans and would leave the newly-combined clan as the undisputed master of the region. It was the perfect solution. A meeting was called with the Morningsongs, and they agreed; the two clans were to be unified.
The first step to unification was through the nobility. If the next generation of nobles were loyal to both the Amelions and the Morningsongs, it would make integrating the two much easier. Every unmarried noble across the two clans was to be found a suitable match and married at one grand ceremony, where every important member of both clans would come together to celebrate their future together.
Every unmarried noble except Autumn, that is. Her rivals among the elders played a cruel trick. This upstart wanted to be a Champion so badly? Fine. Then she would attend the wedding as a Champion, not as a Noblewoman. That meant she wasn't getting a husband. Instead, she would have to attend in her heavy armour, carrying her spear, her axe and her shield, for hours on end. As if that wasn't bad enough, they had her assigned to guarding the perimeter, so she wouldn't even get to see the ceremony itself. Just standing staring into the woods for hours and hours on end. When she heard the news, she could only groan and prepare for what she was certain would be the worst night of her life.
She didn't know how right she was.
Eventually, the day came, and a dutiful Autumn reported for duty. Her job, insofar as she was concerned, was to stand at the entrance of the village the wedding was taking place in and stare off into the middle distance. Theoretically, it was to keep a watch out for any opportunistic raiders, but none of the other clans were suicidal enough to profane a ceremony between the two most powerful clans in the region, and the Elders surely knew that. It was going to be a long, boring night. Even the guard the Morningsongs posted outside wouldn't give her any company, as they were utterly resistant to any attempts at engaging them in conversation.
So she stood and waited. And waited. And waited. Her eyes became heavy and her mind began to wander. Wouldn't it be funny if there actually was an invasion and Autumn was the one who had to stop it? That would teach those stupid elders. She knew they wanted to punish her, but if something actually happened, then Autumn would be the first one to get the glory. Oh, how she would love to see the looks on their faces as the rest of the wedding party gathered around her, proclaiming her a hero, cheering her name...
Autumn's eyes snapped open. That sound wasn't something she was imagining. There really was cheering inside the village. But now that she was more awake, it sounded less like cheering and more like screaming...
She whirled around, ready to storm into the village and see what all the fuss was about, only to narrowly avoid having her head split open. The other guard, the one posted by the Morningsongs, didn't have time to recover from her failed assassination before Autumn left her gurgling on her own blood. She didn't pause to mourn, only to pluck the spear from her foe's body before opening the gates to confirm what her subconcious already knew.
It was supposed to be a wedding. The Morningsongs had turned it into a massacre. Bodies and bits of bodies and clots of blood lay scattered around The corpses were pallid, sickly shade, with froth seeping from their mouths and clawing at their throat. All of the dead were Amelions. Going from body to body were the Morningsongs, occassionally plunging their blades into an Amelion who wasn't dying fast enough for them.
Before Autumn could decide whether to charge in or run away, one of the Morningsong guards noticed her and cried out. Autumn had to go. She turned and ran, but she knew she couldn't stick to the roads; her armour was too heavy, and they would eventually catch her. So she ran to the one place that even the bravest of Morningsongs would dare pursue her: the forest.
And she was right. As soon as she passed the threshold of the forest, she looked back to see the Morningsong soldiers had stopped pursuing her. Why would they? Anyone who entered the forest was as good as dead.
No home. No clan. No route to safety. Every moment she spent in the forest was a moment some hideous beast was using to close in on her. She had no choice. Autumn would have to leave Dryak lands altogether, and journey into the fabled World of Men.
And that's what she did. Using the stars as her guide, Autumn left her homeland, the only place she had ever known, behind and travelled into the unknown. She didn't know what she was going to do when she got there, or how those of the World of Men would treat her, but she didn't think about that. All she thought about was surviving.
It will be long. It will be hard. But Autumn has hope: some day, she will return to Dryak, and she would teach Clan Morningsong the price of their treachery. But for now, she is content in the knowledge that as long as she lives, Clan Amelion is not yet lost.
Equipment:
- Old Axe: Time has not dulled its edge yet.
- Hunting bow and quiver: The arrow does not discriminate between human and deer
- Wooden Shield: Many a soldier owes his life to a quarter-inch of wood.
Abilities:
Champion: Autumn is a seasoned warrior, trained with bow, spear, axe and shield. Her training as a champion has made her an accomplished duellist, although she has no problem fitting in to a shieldwall should the situation call for it, and she fights with a distinctly defensive style, preferring to wear her opponents out by blocking and redirecting their blows to exhaust them before finishing them off when they're too tired to protect themselves.
Plant Communication: Being a Dryak, Autumn can pick up certain information from plants. She can only pick up what the plant itself is able to detect and she can't physically talk to the plant, so it isn't as though the trees are going to tell her exact troop counts, but she is able to tell things like local weather phenomenon, the quality of the water and soil the plant draws from and if there has been a disturbance around the plant.
Survivalist: Years of living in the forest have hardened Autumn and taught her all kinds of skills instrumental to survival. She can track a deer even on a rainy night, can navigate by the stars, and has an uncanny knack for finding fresh fruits and water even in unfamiliar territory.
Amateur Medic: While she's hardly a physician, Autumn does have some experience in medicating injuries. If a doctor isn't available, she can help her companions get back on their feet.
Appearance: Akarui is astonishingly beautiful with many feminine facial features that give the illusion of defenselessness. He has a lean, muscled frame that contains surprising strength and stands slightly taller than most other Sylve. Dark brown eyes stare unflinchingly back at any challenger, and can often make most warriors hesitate. Akarui’s most recognizable feature is his striking dyed hair that hangs down to his waist. He styles it often into braids or adorns it with jewelry for official occasions in order to make it stand out even more. Golden jewels are a favorite of Akarui and he often wears a few around his wrist or on his ears. When on a mission Akarui prefers to travel light wearing no armor and only dark clothing. He has a favored black cloak that covers his body down to his ankles as well as provides minor magical resistances. In order to not make noise Akarui wears soft leather boots that make no unnecessary sounds.
Personality: Akarui is no longer the joyful kid his sister had known him as, but he also wasn’t the empty shell that rose through the ranks of the Reapers to serve at his brother’s side. The Red Messenger no longer finds joy in the death he brings, but also doesn’t hesitate to eliminate a target. It is simply his job, and as such he tries to stay away from death when he is not on a mission. Once again Akarui has filled his life with music and art, and he enjoys sharing these gifts with others. The only problem is at this point most commoners and nobles see him as being on par with the reaper himself. Thus Akarui is forced to stay within the ranks of the reapers for company. This has caused the Red Messenger to preemptively distance himself from others even though he would likely enjoy their company. His two closest companions are Seiryu and Tsukihana, meaning they are the only two who see Akarui at his most vulnerable. They often get the “privilege” of hearing his original music and often receive gifts from the aspiring artist. They get to experience the person closest to what Akarui was like before Suzune left the Scar.
Bio: Akarui never knew his parents as they died before his first birthday, but he never felt like he was missing something growing up. His older brother Seiryu acted as the de facto father figure of the now orphaned trio. Seiryu was nearly as strict with his younger brother as he was with the Reapers he commanded. Even though this strictness made a young Akarui feel confined by Seiryu sometimes, he always understood the intention behind it. Of course, anytime Seiryu was too mean to him he had a shelter to fall back to… Suzune. His sister was only a few years older than Akarui, but she was basically a mother for her baby brother. She was the counterforce to Seiryu’s overbearing demeanor that Akarui relied on to lessen the impact of a vicious scolding. Akarui spent his childhood following his older siblings around being the best pest he could be.
As he entered his teenage years he began to clash with Seiryu more and more. They would constantly fight even about the tiniest things that neither of them truly cared about. The core of this argument was that Akarui didn’t want to follow their family tradition and join the Reapers. The strictness of his childhood had pushed the boy away from military service, and Seiryu wasn’t having any of it. Akarui had already shown a natural aptitude for wind magic and the Reaper in Seiryu couldn’t let an asset like this waste their talent somewhere else. At one point Akarui even threatened to leave the Scar and that was just too much for his older brother to handle. When Suzune returned that night she found their home to be a mess with the two brothers screaming in the middle of the entrance. Seiryu was blocking the front door while Akarui was busy throwing the family’s collection of shoes at the now stationary target. Suzune broke up the fight and sat the brothers down to have a “group therapy” session. Akarui let out all the frustration he had been feeling and while Seiryu had not been nearly as forthcoming he got some important points out. Suzune was the one who came up with the compromise that was settled on. Akarui got to do what he wanted until he was twenty, but he could not leave the Scar. At twenty if Akarui had managed to make a living he was happy with he would get his wish, but if he was lost and struggling he would have to join Seiryu for a time. Even if Seiryu was not happy with this compromise Akarui was overjoyed. He spent the next few years jumping from hobby to hobby, from musician to artist to fisherman. He loved the freedom he had and made the most out of this time he had. On his nineteenth birthday, he played a song for all his friends and gifted Suzune with a portrait of herself that he had made. He knew she was going on an important mission soon and wanted to give her a gift so she wouldn’t forget her “favorite” brother. For the first week, she was gone he spent his time planning a small concert for her return, and he spent the second week secretly worrying about her. By the third week she was gone Akarui was constantly hounding Seiryu for information. It was sometime during the fourth week gone that a battered reaper squad returned from the surface bearing a message for their commander. That night Akarui learned of his sister’s decision, and he felt like he had been stabbed in the back. It wasn’t that she had left the Scar or the Reapers, it was the fact she left him. He had no final words he could think of because he thought he would have plenty more words to hear from his sister. Instead, all he had was the official resignation she wrote to Seiryu. A few nights later Akarui was planning to leave the Scar and find Suzune. While he was finishing his packing he could hear his door open and knew he had been discovered. After a tense stand-off between the two brothers, Akarui broke down and cried in front of Seiryu. He cried that he missed, hated, and loved Suzune all at once. That he needed to ask her why she left them, but never wanted to see her again. He couldn’t help but feel she was running away from him as much as she was running from the Scar. It was everything he was feeling, and Seiryu stood there and listened. Fortunately, that was all Akarui needed as he poured his heart out to the man Akarui considered to be his father. At some point later that night silence filled their home as a shattered Akarui finally couldn’t cry anymore.
Akarui spent the remainder of the year a shell of himself, merely doing the bare minimum to survive. He stopped playing music and didn’t even glance at his paintbrush. On his twentieth birthday, Akarui went with Seiryu to the reaper headquarters to begin his training. Once his training began one thing became apparent, Seiryu had been right about his brother’s potential. Using wind magic to manipulate his movement was almost second nature to Akarui, and the fighting style he used utilized this to the extreme. Opting to focus nearly everything on attack Akarui used quick and wild blows to try and quickly finish his opponents. He relied on his magically enhanced agility to dodge any blows if his enemies somehow survived his lightning-quick first strikes. Seiryu quickly saw a good use for his younger brother in their organization and began sending him out on his early missions.
The young Reaper was tasked with hunting down rebellious elements in the Scar that threatened the reign of the Shogun. Akarui’s effectiveness and brutality were apparent and many stories began to spread of a reaper massacring anyone who spoke out against the Shogun or the state. For years Akarui stomped plots and foiled assassinations with severe brutality, and he enjoyed his job. He enjoyed the praise he got from his brother and he enjoyed the sense of accomplishment he achieved from completing a kill order. Even though he was incredibly successful, Seiryu had never given him a mission that lead him outside the Scar. Akarui hunted in the depths of the scar for many years before being recalled for a new task.
With nearly every noble house having access to a group of elite assassins, it was important to navigate politics carefully. For this, the Shogun used certain Reapers to be his “messengers” to the nobility. These messages could range from a marriage proposal to execution orders, and these Reapers were tasked with delivering and executing these orders. Discretion was of the highest order and being caught meant severe repercussions for both the Reaper and their family. Akarui was nominated for the role of a messenger by Seiryu, and these jobs would be an extreme challenge. These challenges would force Akarui to mature and finally take control of his emotions. For the first time, Akarui nearly died and decided he could no longer hold what Suzune did against her. She found something out there that called to her, and Akrui regretted not having done the same. The second time he nearly died Akarui decided he wanted to go outside the Scar before he died. He needed true freedom before he spent eternity buried in his homeland. The third time he had a brush with death Akarui wished he could experience life outside of the Reapers. He wanted to pick up his instruments and paintbrush and forget his worries. The fourth time Akarui dodged his doom he realized he was getting really tired of almost dying, and he could probably be doing his job a bit better.
Nine years later Akarui is the longest-serving messenger in Reaper history and has become a myth amongst the inhabitants of the Scar. A red messenger that can appear anywhere at any time. The sight of the messenger is the sight of death itself to any enemy of the Shogun, and nobles no longer feel safe in their homes. The job that truly sparked these myths was an execution of a plotting noble. When the servant arrived to wake up their master, all they could find was a handwritten will on his bedside table. There was no sign of a struggle or a body, and no one had seen a thing. All that was found was a single long red hair laying on the floor.
In his personal life, Akarui has once again taken up the old hobbies that once filled him with joy. While he is rusty he still remembers the basics and even has begun a new portrait piece. It is a painting of Suzune, but all he has as a reference are 25-year-old memories. Akarui also has recently had an audience assigned to him for his songs, even though she keeps telling him his job is to teach her things while they are on missions. Akarui had spent the last two and half decades letting himself live in darkness and it had consumed him for a time. Now all he wants to do was find happiness again and enjoy life as he once had. Life as a messenger amongst the Reapers is too short to waste, and Akarui doesn’t want to waste any more of his.
Equipment: Dākuejji: An incredibly thin single-edge sword that Akarui uses as his primary tool for assassinations. The black blade has some sort of magic forged into it in order to prevent breaking on impact. There is nearly no weight since the blade is so thin, so Akarui can use it incredibly fast as well as accurately. While his strikes won’t bear much force behind them, little force is needed to slice a throat.
Kaiteki: A long black cloak that has minor magical resistance woven into it. After finding the cloak in a hideout of a dissident group Akarui took the cloak as his own. There are no noticeable markings on the cloak and it doesn’t even seem to be made of fine materials.
Reaper Scythe: While the scythe is an afterthought for Akarui there are times he finds a decent use for it. A favorite tactic of his is to summon the weapon while in the middle of a strike with his sword. This allows him to make a surprise attack in the hope to finish off his opponent in an instant.
Abilities: Wind Gift: Akarui is a natural at using his gift to manipulate and enhance his movements in a fight. To opponents, it can even feel like gravity doesn’t apply the same rules to the Reaper as it applies to everyone else.
Master Swordsman/Assassin: While these may seem different skills in other hands, they are one and the same for Akarui. Every fight is a race to deal a fatal blow in the quickest way possible, and every other factor is secondary. A master of striking vital points with blinding speed Akarui hopes to finish most fights before his target has had a chance to draw their weapon. Blocking is a waste of a possible killing strike, so Akarui relies on his wind magic and blinding speed to dodge any strikes that hinder his attack. Stealth is also a tool that Akarui uses for he does not care about honor, only completing the job alive.
A gift given to Elena by Cinclaire on her 20th birthday. A finely crafted, if simple staff of wood and metal with a round crystal at its crux. Though the staff itself is quite heavy, in the hands of the Red Saints, it feels surprisingly light. This staff serves as a focus for most of Elena's magical abilities and can manifest a scythe blade that Elena uses while in combat. The size and strength of the scythe blades are influenced by the amount of mana channeled into it. The staff can also use mana to propel itself through the air, allowing Elena to ride it as a mount. Travelling across the ground at low altitudes requires a sustainable amount of mana. Flying through the sky is considerably more taxing
