Name: Fergus Mac Teague
Age: 24
Gender: Male
Equipment/Possessions: Formal Wear, Jeweled Dagger, House Mnemon Official Seal and Documentation, Two Belt Pouches, Resealable Inkwell, Fountain Pen, Blank Book
-Pouch 1 Contents: 1kg of Bloodberry Trail Mix, and an extra 0.5kg of dried berries.
-Pouch 2 Contents: Money (2 Koku, 6 Quian, 4 Siu, 7 Yen), Magnifying Glass, and a "Lucky Rock"

Personality: Fergus enjoys life and loves the lifestyle his profession allows him to live. As a barrister (lawyer), he makes a significant sum of jade scrip compared to most. He does show it off from time to time by buying drinks for the whole tavern, buying expensive gifts, and indulging in his expensive snacking habits. He's a bit abrasive to poorer folks, as a result. But he does try to limit that. After all, a barrister can always use more future clients. Er... I mean friends.

Backstory/History: Son of a barrister and a midwife of Dynastic House Mnemon, Fergus was born with a silver spoon in his mouth. Lord's Crossing was far inland on the Blessed Isle, and thus safe from the vast majority of the fighting from the Scarlet War. Even the civil conflicts of the Dynastic Houses were minimal there before the war, due to the Imperial City being the center of government at the time. What little fighting that did occur in Lord's Crossing was quickly quashed by House Mnemon's forces stationed there.

Fergus himself had an enjoyable later childhood after the war concluded. He even followed in his father's footsteps and went to finishing school to become a barrister for House Mnemon. His marks were acceptable, his demeanor was as expected of a notable and wealthy young man from a Dynastic family. At the age of twenty-two, Fergus was certified as a legal representative of House Mnemon. Both he and his father were incredibly proud, and he began working in Lord's Crossing with his family. Times were good for a year or so. Then he took a case for a soldier from his noble house, and that changed.

The soldier had been accused of aggravated robbery and murder, and Fergus was assigned to defend the man. Much to most people's surprise, he won the case. A big payday from the Mnemon coffers, and another win on his case record. However, the victim's family was also of substantial wealth thanks to being members of House Cathak. They decided to take matters into their own hands, and target the soldier and the family of barristers who had won him his freedom. Thankfully, they targeted the soldier first. As soon as the man was found executed a week after the case was settled, Fergus surmised what was going on. Noble houses were not usually nice when they felt justice had escaped them, after all.

His father suggested they part ways for a time and leave Lord's Crossing. Given that a barrister for House Mnemon could find work practically anywhere on the Isle, Fergus agreed. Even if he did not immediately find work, he had plenty of money to float himself for a while. However, the day he was to leave for Pasiap's Stair, Fergus got the news his father had been murdered. By this point, House Cathak had disowned the offenders and were trying to stop them from doing more damage to the houses reputation. It was little comfort to Fergus, however. He knew he would be next.

In hopes it would throw off his would-be killers, he kept his travel date to Pasiap's Stair. Instead of going there by carriage, he had called in a favor to a merchant friend and would be tagging along on a trip to the imperial Ruins. Thankfully, this seemed to successfully throw off the killers. As it is now a year after his father's death, and Fergus is now living very comfortably in the Imperial Ruins. He does keep in touch with his mother now and then by sending messages with merchants, but is otherwise completely on his own. No worries, though. While he does not make near as much as he did in Lord's Crossing, he still makes plenty enough to enjoy a lavish lifestyle compared to most residents. His home even has a hearthstone that provides running water!

Unfortunately for him, this too would soon change...

Other: Fergus has a slight addiction (he can stop anytime he wants, Karen... he just doesn't want to stop right now) to Bloodberries. They are relatively expensive (1 Quian for 0.5kg), so he has taken to drying them and mixing them with little crackers and nuts to make a sort of trail mix with them to make them last longer and save money.

Take 2.5

Name: Cilia Cosgair
Age: 17
Gender: Female

Equipment/Possessions:
Common clothes,
A dagger,
One book (Children’s morality tales – like Grimms),
Tools
A bag to carry the tools and the book.

Personality:
Cilia is a scavenger that struggles to survive. Each day is a new challenge and a new obstacle to overcome, and each day she is glad to be alive and every night she is glad to have safely made it through the day. She learned to think that way from her friend Edwin the Tinker. She finds joy in taking things apart and figuring out how they work.

As a poor scavenger she has learned to have a strong distrust of rich people, which in her case are most people. Rude words, sticks, boots to the back, dirty looks, and things thrown at her, has taught her not to trust them. The worst thing is the pity. In Cilia’s mind animals are easier to understand. If a person is kind to animal, they will probably be kind to her.

Cilia likes to read, but for those who are educated her reading is painfully slow and labored. She is bright enough to be educated, but education takes time, money, and practice. Survival has been a more pressing matter to her.

At her core, she wants to be optimistic, she just needs to catch a break.

Back-story/History:
Cilia was born in a small coastal city, her father was a traveling merchant and her mother was a prostitute. So she grew up in a brothel, watching the comings and goings that took place. She learned to watch people and to keep their secrets. See much and say little. At a young age she learned what many of the rich folks were like sharks chomping up the little peoples like chum. Using them for their pleasure, then disposing them. The one bright spot in her childhood was she was taught to read and write a little. That was about all she received as a bastard child.

When her mother was expecting her next child, Cilia had the choice of going into the profession or leaving. She had seen the bruises and abuse that the girls received. So she left. She was picked up by a traveler and when she would not do what he wanted, he beat and knifed her. When he was done he threw her out of the wagon. A scar across her right shoulder bears witness to her struggle and shame. Near half dead, she managed to find shelter in an abandoned building in the in the Imperial Ruins. A pack of stay dogs for company.

In the ruined city, she started scavenging bits and pieces of things - metal for the blacksmith, rags for the paper maker, and things that looked interesting for the tinker. A couple coins her and there to buy a bit of bread. She has learned to crawl into and through tight spaces and into dangerous places. Recently, she has been tinker and building things on her own. Mainly she builds different types of traps that are around the abandoned building.

Name: Axley Crawford

Age: 25

Gender: Female

Equipment/Possessions:

One ceremonial sword, sharpened at a local blacksmith to be usable in combat, intricately designed with the crest of the Crawford family.

One necklace made of silver, holding a brilliant green gem at its center, kept around her neck at all times.

One lute, perfectly tuned and made of a beautifully varnished cedar.

Personality: Axley has had to make a very rough adjustment to her new life as a woman without means. She often finds it difficult to fit in with the people around her when she forgets that she is one of them now, as opposed to a member of the bourgeois who is used to looking down upon the peasants of the lower class. She doesn't take shit from others and tends to have an attitude with people who don't hold her respect. She has a fine eye for detail and a particularly fine ear for music from her upbringing, giving her great talent with both her voice and an instrument.

Though she is intuitive, Axley is not overly versed in the world around her, having grown up sheltered from it for quite some time. She is quick to anger, but not quick to violence, only carrying her blade for intimidation, and only protection as an absolute last resort. She shies away from conflict when she can, though does not step down to the catcalls of the men around her. She has a sarcastic, sassy streak that shows itself whenever she grows irritated with others, but once someone has proven themselves as trustworthy to her, she is a loyal friend that would always keep an eye out for them.

Axley loves fashion in spite of her limited income, and can often be seen in the merchant district, browsing the various silks and fabrics for sale in the wishes that one day she might be able to reclaim her fortune. She'll often try to set up her post near there so that she can look on the job; though she wishes to pinch some for herself, she lacks the skill set to be a thief and knows it. She keeps her nose clean of trouble, though the possibility of breaking the rules and seeking adventure has always allured her, even though she has not had the daring or the strength to take those chances.

Backstory/History: Axley was born to people of means, a wealthy merchant family in the affluent district of Ulfhednar. With a silver spoon in her mouth from birth, Axley grew up never knowing the trials of the lower class. She looked down upon them as her father had, calling them the 'pigs' of the Blessed Isle. She saw herself as entitled, a level above those without money, and quickly developed a superiority complex over those who were without. Having been tutored privately to read and write from a young age, Axley's own interests turned towards music once she had grown of age, and began taking lessons from private instructors to tune her ear to the world of sound around her. After all, were she to land a fetching husband in due time, she would need to showcase some sort of talent to win his affections. That's what her mother told her.

Until the age of twenty-three, Axley lived in comfort with her family, oblivious to the darkness dwelling just outside their pleasant abode. Her father, Eiric Crawford, hadn't acquired all his wealth quite so legitimately-it turned out he owed quite a few favors to the local crime syndicate, and they had grown tired and frustrated with his truancy on his 'donations' to their cause as of late. Eventually, it had all boiled over to a head. While the Crawford family slept one night, Axley awoke from her bed to find the scent of smoke clogging her nostrils. She opened the door to her room to see if something was wrong, only to find the lower floor ablaze, hungry flames consuming everything in reach. Her parents' master bedroom was already blocked off by the blaze, and she found herself desperately low on time to escape; the fire was already making its way up the stairs. Gathering what few possessions she could from the wall, including a family sword and her beloved lute, she tied her blanket to the window and clambered down, making the leap to the ground and running for her life as the fire went on to burn unabated until there was no more.

She didn't have the heart to look back on her destroyed home. The news had spread quickly enough; the charred corpses of her parents had been found, but Axley had been nowhere to be located. Whatever might have survived the blaze was most likely looted by the dawn. She was left with nothing; her fortune evaporated before her eyes, the few things she had managed to save from the tragic fire all she had to her name beyond a little jade.

She knew not what caused the fire, but couldn't bear to face the common folk of Ulfhednar, especially given the reputation she knew her family had with the lower class. Instead, she decided to start life anew. Using what money she had left, she purchased a ticket on a ship traveling south across the river, eventually finding her way to the Imperial Ruins. Nobody recognized her there; she managed to find herself a cheap building on rent on the outskirts of the city, and quickly weaved her way into life there as a traveling bard, wandering the streets and bars singing her hauntingly alluring tunes, now twinged with sadness as hints of her former life leaked out in her voice and lyrics while she played for what coin the folk she used to mock would spare her.

Name: Snow Sparrow
Age: 35
Gender: Male

Equipment/Possessions:

• Scroll containing a more liberal interpretation of the Immaculate Text, with case.
• Incense.
• A silver bell.
• A pouch of salt.
• A healer's kit filled with herbal salves, bandages, and acupuncture needles.
• Coin pouch containing one quian five siu and ten yen.
• Journal with charcoal stylus.
• Walking staff.

Personality:

Snow is a man of temperate discipline. A man that tries to find order, reason, beauty, and hope in an insane and chaotic Creation that teeters on the brink of darkness. Against all wisdom and all sense, Snow is a man of optimism, mercy, and forgiveness. He tries to bring peace and wholeness to whomever he meets. He is detached from things like anger though his heart weighs heavy with regrets. He was once, stubborn, resolute in his convictions, but the pillar he once stood for has crumbled. He now attaches himself to whatever good he can find and holds onto it, for his own sense of stability. It has taught him to be versatile, be pure in thought and deed. One can always find a friend and helping hand in Snow.

Backstory/History:

"What a shame."

These were the words he has heard many times in his life.

He has always been touched by fairness and beauty. A shame he was an orphan and joined the Immaculate Order rather than the brothels, shaving his head and taking the vow of chastity, and thus never knowing a woman's touch.

He was always a peaceful, polite, a good child that always hated fighting. What a shame that his own spiritual piousness had him marked to be a traveling monk that dealt with unruly spirits and exorcising ghosts, and thus he had to learn the mortal forms of of the Martial Arts Five Dragons and (thankfully) Crane styles.

He was the perfect Immaculate Monk. Offering enlightenment, peace, words of relief and comfort to the commoners of the Realm. A shame he was called to duty and left the shores of the Blessed Isle to the Threshold where he would help bless the legions that would be sent into grizzly deaths, and do battle with the undead himself on occasion.

He always had the scriptures of the Immaculate Order to remind him that with the Immaculate Dragons and the Dragon Blooded Host would always be victorious against the enemies of Creation. A shame that he would see the Perfect Terrestrial Exalts fail and fall, some leaving hundreds to die to save their own skin. How shameful that his life was saved by a Golden Demon, an Anathema who displayed such Compassion, such Valor that Snow himself was filled with renewed vigor and followed this Devil towards victory and life, shirking off his life's teachings to fight at the Golden Devil's side.

And with the knowledge that he wasn't pure enough to resist the Anathema's magic, and that these beings, thought monsters beyond evil, were stepping on the Blessed Isle as warrior kings giving the people strength and hope, and that the Immaculate Order and their scripture was being exposed as lies, his faith finally broke. He let his hair grow out, broke his vows, and became a shell of a man without faith or purpose. What a shame.

A shame that the alcohol and whores didn't give him happiness.

A shame that the people cried out for relief, for hope in these dark times.

A shame that he still had the skills that people required.

But that was his life. He never would get what he personally wanted. His fate is to serve. His fate is to be where he's needed to be. He's grown to rather enjoy his lot in life, despite everything. There was no shame in helping others after all.

Other: Snow knows Thaumaturgy of Spirits, Alchemy, and Binding. He is no where near as skilled as a proper Thaumaturge but he knows how to appease the gods, how to excorcise ghosts, and make a few poultices for healing if he has the ingredients.

Name: Sasuke Stormwind
Age: 28
Gender: Male

Appearance:
On the rare occasion he isn't wearing his gear underneath, he looks very much like this (the one on the right). He prefers loose clothing for both comfort and as an easy way to take advantage of his slender fram to conceal armor and weapons underneath. His eyes appear to shift color according to mood, between hazel (with a slightly reddish tint), a greyish color, and blue-green. He’s got a rather dangerous profession, so he’s always suited up for the day when he either has to fight to save himself or move out on short notice. Too bad he’s had to do both at once.
 
 





I will not bow!