Name: Sarnic of Clan D'mol, of Tribe Dimutic
Age: 26
Race: Akeshan of the Wilderness
Gender: Male
Appearance: Sarnic's slightly below average height but toned, athletic build wouldn't normally inspire fear in strangers - but his sharp fangs, wild eyes, and aggressive attitude that easily shows through his body language might do it. He has light skin subtly tanned by the sun, and various battle scars all over. His hair is a shaggy light brown - the same goes for the wolfish ears and tail that sprout from his body. His fingers end in pointed claws perfect for tearing things apart. In the dark, his red eyes can seem to glow with excitement. He usually dresses in capes and furs decorated with trinkets, charms and jewelry of all kinds.

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Reputation: Those that don't know Sarnic would say that he's a ruffian - he puts the beast in beastman and is an unrepentant, uncooperative, unpleasant person. Those that DO know him would say... all of the same, and add that he's a ferocious, uncontrollable young man with a lust for battle that rivaled only his personal pride. Though hard to imagine, he does have his good qualities in that he's loyal and will protect what he views as his, whether it be people or territory - and though isn't a strategist by any means, preferring to rely on his raw power, in battle he thinks quickly on his feet. He is in peak physical form and is equally admired, feared, and hated by many.

Skills:

• Physical Combatant
• Natural Weapons
• Simple Weapon Proficiency
• Iron Stomach
• Poison & Disease Resistant
• Brutal Charisma/Pack Alpha
• Animalistic Strength
• Animalistic Senses

Backstory:
The D'mol Clan has been part of the Dimutic Tribe for nearly as long as the tribe has been around. The D'mol have produced many fierce sons and daughters over the years, but none so much as Sarnic. He came out of his mother's womb kicking and screaming - he even bit the deliverer. His parents couldn't have been more proud.

Sarnic didn't have any special upbringing, he was raised in the same way the other children of the tribe were: thrown outdoors during the day to do whatever he liked, then collected at night to be fed dinner and instructed in the brief tribe laws and history. It was a childhood full of scrapes, scraps, bruises and battling - just the way the Dimutic like it. Soon enough it was apparent that Sarnic wasn't just unruly - he was tougher and stronger than most if not all of his age group. He could spar with older members of the tribe easily, and soon enough his parents decided it was time for the adult bridging ceremony. This ceremony could be taken at any age and was a test to determine if members of the Dimutic would go on to become full fledged adult warriors, or remain children for a little longer and move on to become healers and shaman. The test involved hunting, fishing, and surviving in the wild alone. Needless to say, Sarnic passed handily.

Now deemed an adult at a relatively young age, Sarnic trained as a warrior tasked both with protecting the village and hunting game to feed it. He was a skilled combatant, and though he didn't always win in those early days he proved a force to be reckoned with. The Dimutic moved their tribe early in Sarnic's life, and there was something that made a lasting impression on the young Akeshan: of the people whose land they moved into, the only ones that refused to give up and leave and were able to put up a fight were the ones that wielded magic. The Dimutic did not normally get involved with the magical beings of the land nor thier contracts that granted magical gifts, but those few that did were not shunned by the tribe. It was always in the back of his mind as a way to get even stronger than he was now.

After a few years more, Sarnic was well known as one of the most powerful members of the tribe. His strength and skill in battle, coupled with his health and ability to eat nearly anything and not get sick, made him both envied and admired by others. Sarnic himself was well aware of his own abilities and would fight everyone to make sure they knew he was stronger than them. He took over as head of his own clan when he killed his father in a power struggle, leaving his mother, younger sister and handful of cousins to acknowledge his new family position. Though they all mourned the former D'mol patriarch's death, Sarnic included, such was the way of the Dimutic - and if one didn't back down it wasn't unlikely for them to die. Sarnic took his father's fangs, wore one as a charm and gave the rest to his family and moved on. Many in the tribe found themselves victims to sudden attacks from Sarnic when they questioned or insulted him. Indeed, Sarnic was powerful - but he knew he could get even more so, especially since he seemed to be evenly matched with the tribal Chieftain's family and was striving to overcome them.

Sarnic's sister, Juvela, was shaping up to be quite the warrior herself and the D'mol siblings enjoyed fighting with each other and giving each other new scars. One day, on a hunting party led by Sarnic which Juvela was part of, the small group of Dimutic was ambushed by remnants of the tribe whose territory they now occupied. A fight ensued and some of the proud, powerful Dimutic were killed by these magic-wielding Akeshan. Worse: some of them were also captured. Predictably, Juvela was one of those stolen. It was a blow to the entire tribe, and a rescue group was put together immediately. After all, these Akeshan had broken the one cardinal law of the Dimutic: of a person, take nothing but their life. Kidnapping was an unforgivable crime.

When the rescue party got to the scene, it was hard to believe what they saw. A large magic beast, more like a monster than anything else, slaughtering the rogue Akeshan and their Dimutic hostages alike. Magic beasts in general were uncommon nowadays, but once this size and strength was especially rare, but here it was. Juvela had broken free and was fighting the creature, one of her large ears torn off and blood streaking down her face. With a battle cry, Sarnic and the rest of his group leapt into battle against the beast. It was bloody, many didn't survive and for the first time in decades members of the Dimutic tribe retreated. Even the D'mol siblings, as strong and brash as they were, turned to run when it became clear the monster was many times more powerful than the lot of them.

It's body, though seemingly flesh, was dense and hard. It resembled two headless men joined at the waist, though many times larger. Their arms ending in bloody claws and where their legs would be ending in yet another pair or arms. Twisting skin formed molted, pulsating ridges on the beast and it's color would constantly change to make for a confusing appearance. Save for the blood coating it's body, it was able to nearly perfectly blend into the surroundings. It crushed the Akeshan bodies into dust and absorbed energy from them through it's skin and the ugly holes where it's heads would have been. The creature was horrible and awesome.

And it chased them.

The D'mol siblings brought up the rear of the escaping Dimutic, and when Sarnic head the beast crashing through the trees after them he growled and turned to stand against it. He was a proud young man, he was strong and determined. He faced down the creature and was prepared to fight and win, or fight and die.

But instead it spoke to him.

When finally Sarnic returned to the village, the entire tribe surrounded him with shouts and tears. Even those that loathed him moved to embrace the hostile man. His mother and sister held onto him and kissed his face in relief. The entire tribe moved the next day, far away from the area, traveling for days. When asked what happened Sarnic would say that he distracting the monster then escaped.

He didn't tell them that more than seeing his sister's bleeding body holding her own against the creature, more than fighting for his own life against it, more than the dark folk tales the elders would scare him with when he was a child, that what it said to him was the most frightened he'd ever been in his entire life.

After moving, the Dimutic tribe put the experience behind them. Sarnic did too. Life went on as normal, but for some reason Sarnic was stronger than ever.

Miscellaneous: Sarnic isn't the head of his tribe, but he certainly acts like it - and more often that not everyone lets him. He's butt heads with the Chieftain many times and has even threatened to kill the tribal leader and take over - so far he hasn't made good on this threat though, instead eagerly awaiting the time he can ascend to Chieftain in the proper way.

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Contract Gift: Fog. Sarnic can generate fog as dense or light as he wishes from his nose and mouth. The fog cover hangs heavy on the ground around him and can get quite large.
Contract Sacrifice: He is bound to follow the orders of the creature who gave him the contract.
Contract Restrictions: If Sarnic is unable to breathe, he can't produce the fog.
Field: The area the fog can cover can extend up to two miles, with the densest part being the center where Sarnic generates it from. The fog can be generated quickly but obviously the large cover the more time it takes.

Name: Sir Ceadda Croan
House: Fourth child of House Croan
Age: 19
Race: Human
Gender: Male
Appearance: Stands at about 5'6" with a slim, athletic build. Wears a specialized half-plate denoting his status as a Holy Knight adorned with a faded insignia of House Croan. Plenty of burn marks on his forearms due to the nature of his gate. Has a white streak in his hair that many assume also stems from the stress that comes from the use of his powerful gate, but it is really due to being overworked.

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Reputation: Due to a past incident that had him join the Holy Knights, Ceadda is seen to the general public as a loose cannon with an especially destructive gate. In reality, those who truly know Ceadda know him as a very jaded individual who finds most of the problems in life a pain. He is the type to undertake anything that is asked of him, but also tries to cut corners in an attempt to make things easier on himself. Because of this, Ceadda is sometimes treated as an "errand-boy" among his peers. In other words, the one member of a group project who volunteers to do most of the work, but ends up doing a half-assed job at it. Something of a scandalous celebrity, but is actually quite unremarkable.

Alignment: Neutral. Ceadda is well aware of the dangers of either side having too much power, but if he were forced to pick a side, Ceadda would begrudgingly choose Magic if only for his familial ties and his Magusist upbringing.

Skills: An overall perceptive individual, Ceadda is especially observant when it comes to other people. He is able to get a general feeling of what kind of person someone is after a few brief moments of interaction, and even understand the topic of a passing conversation just by hearing a few spoken words. Despite being able to read others easily, Ceadda does not put this skill into full use as a nobleman of House Croan, and instead utilizes this skill to seem unremarkable to those he interacts with. Ceadda's skills in human observation are especially apparent in the midst of conflict, such as an argument or a more physical confrontation.

Among the Holy Knights, Ceadda is actually considered the "weakest" in terms of overall sword skills. This is due to Ceadda's personal combat methodology. Using his skills of observation, Ceadda prefers to figure out his opponent before blades clash in order to win a fight before it even begins. When that fails, Ceadda enters combat with the mindset of ending it as quickly as possible, favoring quick dashes and rushing headlong towards his opponent as a means of finding or making openings to exploit. In other words, a seemingly reckless assault unfitting of a Holy Knight if not for Ceadda's particular gate. Some would even say that despite his mediocre skills with the blade, Ceadda is among the order's "greatest" swordsmen due to the nature of his sword along with his particular fighting style.

Backstory: One of the many children born under House Croan, Ceadda wasn't seen as especially remarkable in comparison to the rest of his siblings. Much of this came from Ceadda's desire to avoid attention, and he had a generally quiet childhood (for a Croan child) until the nature of his gate was discovered in a particularly scandalous incident. What was once thought to be a specialized form of Electricity or Heat gate turned out to be something more, as made apparent when Ceadda had lost control over it and harmed his younger sister, Rae, in the process.

Overcome with the shame of harming his family alongside being ostracized by most of his siblings, Ceadda had felt like he was unfit for having such power, and purposely overused his gate to the point of it cracking so he wouldn't be able to use it anymore. However, the Lord and Lady of House Croan had other plans for Ceadda, believing that such a powerful gate should not be squandered over a mere accident. They soon came to a compromise, with Ceadda being sent to the Holy Knights under the guise of "rehabilitation", so he could learn to control what is left of his gate without the risk of hurting his family any longer. About two years later and Ceadda had easily cemented his place within the Holy Knights as one of its strongest members.

Miscellaneous: Ceadda carries a beautifully crafted glass sword as his sole weapon of choice. Appearing as more of an accessory than an actual weapon, it is unfit for use as a sword in the traditional sense, and Ceadda is sometimes ridiculed for having such a fragile-looking blade. A nameless blade due to Ceadda's belief that naming tools and objects is "something only pretentious snobs would do." In truth, Ceadda feels embarrassed about the names he's come up with so far.

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Gate: Unbeatable Hollow Sword. A special gate that can only manifest within a uniquely-crafted hollowed glass sword. About as flashy as the name suggests, Ceadda's gate was originally much stronger before it was voluntarily cracked due to a past trauma.
Flow: Moderate-Low. Originally High, but can now only take the shape of the vessel it is summoned through. In Ceadda's case, the blade of a sword.
Favour: High, but due to the gate's cracks, over-exertion can lead to mana draining faster and even more potential damage to the gate and its vessel.
Field: Can only be summoned through Ceadda's sword, or other vessels of a similar make. Can be extended from the vessel to a length of 2 meters, and upwards to a length of ~7 to 9 meters through exertion.

Name: Erika ‘Mechanica’ Sid
Age: 24
Race: Human
Gender: Female
Appearance: She stands at about 198cm tall with her legs(around 88cm without), and a rather slender yet toned build. One can scarce ignore the scars all over her body, and her missing limbs if she opts to take off her overcoat. With it, she seemed strangely tall due to her longer legs hidden under it, with a longer left arm, and a shorter right. The most prominent feature, due to its location on her face, was a large burn, though hidden behind her hair.

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Reputation: A pleasant person, all smiles and manners. Polite, agreeable but not annoyingly so, or the sort to be eager to please. For most Croanians, there was an odd quirk of her scrunching up her nose at any beastmen around, which tends to be found dead somewhere, mutilated, skinned or otherwise butchered in some sort of capacity, but no one really paid any mind to those; criminals were a dime a dozen and better the beastmen than them after all. Indeed what most would pay attention to most was her dangerous obsession with technology, explosives and black powder. Otherwise, people would pretty much agree she approached things in a very mercenary fashion. A fair exchange of money, for her talents.

Alignment: Technologist. She’s one, so logically she was very much in favour of techies.

Skills: When it comes to machines, she was horrifically talented in it. Perhaps not in an academic sort of way, she can’t identify which part was which most times, but from sheer instincts and learning. Her first prototypes of using miniaturized servos and pneumatic servos outright tore her limbs apart was an utter failure, yet served as the basis of her current equipment. Also one of the few willing to experiment with explosives, being familiar with its make and usage.

Less a skill and more a trait was her instincts and intuition, something she learned to make use of in almost every thing she does.

Backstory: A fair lass born in the northern most parts of Young, she lived in a relatively remote town. Her life wasn’t anything out of the ordinary, she ran here and there, played with other children in her neighborhood, climbed the occasional tree and got in trouble as all young children were wont to do.

One day however, a person, claiming to be a person of the future, and to give a glimpse of what the future could hold gave a show on the streets. It was of course, all theatrics, and small glimpses of impressive stuff that didn’t have any practical application like a spinning magnet levitating on top of another magnet, but yet, as a young child, she was captivated by it.

While her grades weren’t really the best, she kept tinkering in her father’s workshop, until she got it into her head to miniaturize those power armor she heard about. Wouldn’t it be better if it was smaller, and more convenient? And thus, with her first prototype, she succeeded in making a system that worked, but without the foresight to put in a failsafe,, she tore herself apart almost limb from limb due to a malfunction. It did not stop her however. From that failure, she learned how to make a functioning prosthetic to serve as her missing arm. Then from there, working legs. Then mini servos and actuators. Better arm prosthetics that moved its fingers. And so on and so forth.
In the town, her inventions weren’t really trusted, for one did not simply forget that she had literally torn herself apart before with one malfunction, and soon she started to take on work elsewhere, both to prove her inventions work, and to work on her inventions.
When it came to testing, live tests were often the best after all.
Miscellaneous: Anything you want to put in that doesn't fit anywhere else.

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Equipment: Pneumatic Aerial Navigation Harness, a design that was wildly unorthodox compared to the rest of the northern regions. It was, for one, not just a harness, but a set of machines connected to her.

Main Unit: Includes the compression tanks mounted on her front, and the main engines in the back. The main compression tank is mounted on her chest, with smaller auxilliary compression tanks mounted beneath. All have individual intakes and outtakes to prevent one puncture making all of them useless, as well as having some added advantages like being able to compress air in all of them individually. The tanks also provide a surprising amount of protection from attacks on those parts, considering the strength and thickness of the metal used. It was not desirable to take impacts on the tanks that contains compressed gas, but at least it was not hitting her. Has four variable outtake pipes on it to release compressed gas.

Entire left arm: A claw gripped arm, with a heated hand so hot it could ignite clothing spontaneously and start to cook her from its sheer heat if she let it go that high without precautions. Has a grappling hook attachment on the forearm. High strength and durability due to it being mechanical in nature.

Right hand Gauntlet: A gauntlet containing twinlinked pneumatic shooters, firing 1cm wide steel balls at surprising speeds and power. Magazines contains 30 steel balls for each side of the barrel, for a total of 60, using a simple spring loaded feeding method. Has a grappling hook attachment under the forearm. Extra magazines are kept on her overcoat. Gloves made from multiple aramid meshes, similar to her overcoat.

Braced exoskeleton: In what she would say a spurt of inspiration, and others would call a burst of madness, she grafted metal parts onto some of her bones to support her usage of the harness, making it so both bone and metal would support whatever stress her body is going through. Connects her to the harness, providing her with a significant increase in strength and speed by itself, without the bulk or weight of a power suit, though a power suit usually has more strength and speeds..

Pinned black powder cylinders: A dangerous contraption with which she can summon an explosion at will. The pin needed to be pulled first, and after a 5 second delay, the cylindrical device explodes in a spectacular fireball.

Overcoat: A large overcoat she uses to cover her entire body, as well as carry her munitions on her contracts. Features an underslung grenade holder, attachments for more pockets and parts, and a large ring of pockets to house her magazines, attachments, and other tools she might carry. Constructed of multiple overlays of tough aramids meshes crisscrossing, providing a surprising amount of protection and snugness, essential in the cold.

Name: Armored Captain Elliot “Eli” Holdt
House: Kothlin
Age: 28
Race: Human
Gender: Male
Appearance: 6 feet tall. Red hair typical of the North. The product of the paltry Kothlinian diet and years of military training. Elliot is thin, though not muscular to the extent of his juniors. The months in the Fort have mellowed him out a little, a five o’clock shadow now a permanent feature.

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Reputation: Neurotic, somewhat paranoid. Puts way too much effort into everything he does. Friends who have known him for years would diagnose it as a severe case of impostor syndrome, though he seemed to be a bundle of nerves since long before he enlisted. Detail oriented and efficient in his work, he’s more than willing to help his fellow soldier to the point of being a doormat. It’s easy to take advantage of it, but when the guy’s so sincere with everything he does… it just makes you feel like an ass.

The consensus around the Fort is that he’s a well-meaning weirdo. If you need a hand, Holdt’s your man.

Alignment: “A-Are you trying to get me dishonorably discharged?” (Technologist)

Skills:

Backstory: Elliot lived a simple life. A child born and raised in the far outskirts of the capital, Redline. He had it about as rough as any other Kothlinian kid, but his family’s warmth always shielded him from the cold. They raised him to be a dependable man, to treat others how he would treat himself. He took up a clerk position at a family friend’s accounting firm during high school. Pursued this line of work in college but dropped out when the fees became too much. With a few falsified papers and a week of cramming, he was able to get his accounting licence externally.

Things were looking up for Eli. He had a stable job. He proposed to his childhood sweetheart. Then the local mafia caught him skimming off the top of the accounts he’d been trusted with and he was forced to skip town. He didn’t know where or how long. The army promised a salary for both him and his family so that was where he headed.

That was six years ago. Eli was never anyone’s ideal warrior but he kept his head low and he followed orders to a tee. After a handful of years of it, he was promoted to Armored Captain and got stationed at Fort Braemur where the Kothlin-Young-Reason borders met. Life at the Fort is slow and tough but the letters from his loved ones back home help him get through it.

Miscellaneous: Falls asleep very deeply and quickly. His singing voice is angelic.

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Equipment: