Name | Silas Ohroyo
Age | 25
Gender | Male
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Name | Darcella Bryenne Ventanni
Age | 23
Gender | Female
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Name | Remon Neel.
Age | 25.
Gender | Male.

Appearance | Remon is a tall man of lithe build whose cerulean eyes belie a cunning intellect, a feature that clashes paradoxically with the rest of his thin yet welcoming face, which is itself framed by long strands of sandy brown hair. His voice, when it is heard, betrays his status as a member of house Darthon, their erudite mannerisms plain for the world to see. As for his skin, bronzed by years spent toiling away beneath the blistering summer sun, it is far from fair. Its surface is marred by a myriad of scars, reminders of his earliest encounters with the Runics of Dread, with the most noticeable example of this being found on the lower left portion of his chest. An area riddled with leftover scar tissue, fibrous and pink, the result of a nasty burn from a follower of Dread that the local practitioners were unable to properly heal.

Attire | Remon's attire rarely advances past what one would consider modest, with his usual garb being comprised of some combination of tunic, pants, shoes, and robe. This was mainly done out of regard to budgetary constraints, though Neel has expressed his distaste for the parading of ludicrous regalia many times before.

Armament/Gear | Remon always carries a shortsword on his person in case he must get physical to fend off an attack, and a leather satchel containing his gold, rations, and writing equipment. The last of which he uses in the practice of his Ars, as he found his inherent knack for mathematics to be of great aid in the casting of reality altering spells.

Alignment | Altruist.

Personality/Habits | Remon was once a very proud person, especially in his teen years, and quite vocal in his convictions to boot. As a matter of fact it was the latter that caused him to leave his father's farm and join a passing caravan on route to house Darthon in the first place. This arrogant and often combative nature did not last long however, as his initiation into Darthon was a humbling one, with the trials he was to face later in life serving to chip away at his brash exterior further. Now he is cautious and quiet, a man who holds his peace to watch and listen rather than shout and rage save for at the most terrible of injustices.

For one cannot learn if one does not listen after all.

As for habits, there are few worth noting save for one, that being his propensity for muttering and drawing invisible shapes or symbols in the air when alone. This is not as strange as you might imagine however, as he is simply plumbing the depths of the mathematical expressions floating around in his head, expounding upon them a little bit each day in order to steadily expand his knowledge of quantum magic as a whole.

Affinity | Ars Quantum.

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Background | Remon was born on a small farm just outside the village of Croydon and began working on it at a very young age alongside his father and mother, as all hands were needed if they were to survive winter and pay their local tax to boot. He did not relish the tasks assigned to him however, being a hard headed and stubborn tyke, an attitude that only grew worse as time went on. He eventually got so bad, he wound up packing as many supplies as he could carry and hopping on the nearest caravan to House Darthon, leaving his home behind in the dead of night. The caravan master soon learned of this of course, quickly becoming furious as the boy had made his way without paying, eating their supplies as they went. So as punishment he planned to have him whipped and put to work paying off his debt, until a member of Darthon had talk with the man. And after some back and forth he eventually convinced the man to let the boy pay off his debt to the house rather than the caravan, as it was technically their supplies he had been stealing from. Taking the boy under their wing, the Warden set him to work cleaning the compound, recognizing the child's arrogant nature as the root of his troubles.

Thus was the next year of Remon's life filled with hours upon hours of menial tasks, each of which did their part to eat away at his inhuman stubbornness, but ultimately failing to make a sizable dent as he simply pushed his pride down deeper. Pretending to be humble when he was not, and therefore fooling his instructor. A good choice as it would turn out, for once he was done with the grunt work, his Warden had his blood examined by the House healers for signs of runic heritage. They had suspected for some time that the boy had such, but had yet to actually confirm it. It took a weeks for the tests to get done, but once they were the Warden had definitive proof and began Remon's training immediately, during which the young Neel found he had quite the aptitude for math. A discovery which led him to begin studying the school of Ars Quantum, as he found the nature of the magic and how it related to a fundamental aspect of the universe operated under similar set of logic. A few years pass, things going well as he finished his studies upon reaching adulthood, whereupon he was sent out into the wide world to help those in need, being a shameless altruist at heart.

It was here that he finally learned the true meaning of humility. Coming to a village under assault by a Shadow Walker of the Ars Terrata, he attempted to use what he'd learned to stop them, only to find himself severely outmatched. Using their mastery of fire, and his own arrogance against him, the Shadow Walker quickly beat the young Remon within an inch of his life, and leaving behind a permanent scar. The only reason he was not killed outright was due to the demented bastards desire to make the boy see the consequences of his failure, forcing him to watch as he burnt the place to the ground before vanishing into the night. Burned and bleeding, Remon crawled his way back to the Brotherhood a changed man, one who now knew the real price of pride. They commended his efforts of course, saying that he did the best that could be expected of a Tyros fresh in the field, but such reassurances rang hollow. He knew the cause of his failure, and he was determined not to make the same mistake again. A decision that prompted a huge shift in his personality, as he forsook any hubris he might have had to live a simpler, humbler life.

Name | Wren Torhice
Age | 24
Gender | Female
Appearance | Wren, pictured here (ignore the elven ears and bionic arm). At a height of 5'3" and a build that tends towards lean, Wren is on the smaller side of the scale. Her skin is fair with a dusting of freckles, while her eyes and hair are dark. The latter is worn in a long braid which hangs well past her waist, and shorn close to her scalp along the sides. Various scars litter her body, the majority of them being concentrated around her hands and feet. For the most part they are small and faded by time.
Attire | She tends to dress in practical, simple clothing made to withstand some wear and tear. Dark greys and blues are her preferred colours, using hardy fabrics and some fur in colder months. Her style is asexual and rarely does she wear anything that accentuates her femininity. It's even more rare to see her with shoes on, as she would rather remain barefooted or - if she absolutely has to - wrap her feet in soft cloth bindings.
Armament/Gear | Wren does not typically use any weapons other than her own body and a quarterstaff. The staff is roughly 6 feet tall, made of oak and devoid of any distinguishing features. Otherwise, she travels light and limits her gear to only the necessities - a single change of clothes, some dried food, bandages and a small knife.
Alignment | Vigilante (Rebel Moral)
Personality/Habits | Overall Wren is a pleasant soul, outgoing and quick to make friends. Her carefree, almost lackadaisical attitude towards life in general is a front, a tactic used to put others at ease and encourage them to underestimate her. It hides her true self; that of a deeply passionate person with strong views on matters of morality and doing what is right, not what is easy.
Affinity | Ars Quantum
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Other Skills/Talents | Wren has spent most of her life not only training her mind in the runic arts, but also her body. The melding of her skills in the arts with her body's physical prowess is something she's paid great attention to. As a result she's in peak physical condition, with years of practice in acrobatics and unarmed combat. More general skills such as horseback-riding, tracking and swimming are also byproducts of a life spent in the company of warriors.
Background | Despite some difficulties in her early years, Wren's childhood was a happy, stable one. Growing up she rarely interacted with others her age; instead she found herself in the company of her elders, many of them willing to indulge her in her voracious thirst for knowledge and discourse. This, more than anything else, was what shaped her into the adult she would ultimately become.

Having been born into a family with very little means and even less desire to raise a Runic, she was abandoned on a cold doorstep at the age of three. Those that took her in were hardly more willing to raise her, but they did set her on the right path by handing her over to be looked after by the members of House Aughler as a foundling. Many hands made the work light. To Wren it was normal moving from home to home, being cared for by an entire community. She learned many things and formed strong bonds with her carers, but she wouldn't find what truly felt like a home until her early teens when she was permanently taken in by the Teico family. Having already known them well, she was glad to join their large, boisterous clan. She thrived there, and per their prompting she eventually gave up her brief experimentation with Ars Sanguis in favour of the arguably safer and more useful Ars Quantum.

She grew particularly close to their youngest son, Jehu. The two fought like siblings and pushed each other to greater heights, turning their training into a competition. Now, ten years later, they remain best friends and fierce sparring partners.

Name | Jehu Teico
Age | 23
Gender | Male
Appearance | Picture, A lean man a little under six feet in height with lanky proportions. At even the best of times, he looks a bit like a wild dog that's been shoved into people clothes. Wild is the best way to describe both his appearance and aura, a sort of font of exuberance that affects others. He keeps his hair shaven on both sides and then chopped just short enough to still be able to pull back out of his face. There are an eclectic collection of nature-themed tattoos spread out around his body.
Attire | Usually as little as he can get away with, as clothing feels restricting to him. It is usually in a very traditional hand-made quality, not particularly well made or quality. In fact, it is usually frayed and well worn. He carries no weaponry and prefers to only wrap his hands and legs in cloth.
Armament/Gear | Aside from necessary travel gear, Jehu does not carry any visible weapons or bulky equipment. He prefers to use his body as a weapon, when possible, and is a very adept unarmed combatant. Arguably more adept than he is a runic.
Alignment | Radical (Chaotic Moral)
Personality/Habits | Jehu is one might call a free spirit, someone unburdened by things like anxiety or fear. This isn't entirely true, he has fears and he does worry about things, but his forward-facing side is entirely boisterous and passionate and loud. He has never met a problem that he couldn't solve by ramming his head against it or pinning it to the ground until it surrendered. The world is a simple puzzle to Jehu, there are things which are good and right, and then there are things in the way. It doesn't really matter what you have to do to get them out of the way.
Affinity | Ars Terrata
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Other Skills/Talents | Jehu was brought up in a family of martial artists, dedicated to forming the most effective combat art possible. He is highly trained in striking with the different parts of his body, and also in grappling. It may be to the exclusion of all else, in fact, that he still perfects his skills in the martial arts.
Background | From the very first day he left his mother's womb, Jehu Teico was destined to fight.

The Teico family was large enough to constitute a small army on their own. Brothers, sisters, cousins, uncles, aunts, Jehu had a no shortage of people trying to teach him things or use him as a punching bag. Wealth was stretched thin, of course, and food was never plentiful. The family trade was their own brand of martial arts, the fighting skills they possessed, and this wasn't always very profitable. It was certainly not safe, either, and Jehu has lost many family members because of it.

Jehu was the first of his family to show skill with Runic arts. It began when he first met his close friend, Wren Torhice, and the two began to train for hours upon end. Though his art was always a bit less artful, a bit blunt and lacking with skill, Jehu demonstrated enough connection to the elements of the land to justify serving The Brotherhood. He left his family for the first time in order to join House Aughler, where he has been all too eager to jump into the front lines.

Name | Balamir Arcadius

Age | 20

Gender | Male

Appearance | Standing at 5’11”, Balamir though youthful in appearance has the build of a seasoned warrior, a physique sculpted from innumerable battles and by other means, and if not for his runic abilities, he would indeed bear many scars. This, combined with his exotic features, cause feelings of terror and awe in those who gaze upon him, causes him to cover his face completely with bandages.

Attire | On the field he wears a set of dark armor and robes which appear to originate from a more heroic age. His helmet is winged and only lends protection down to his nose, leaving his mouth exposed, while the rest of his armor is a mix of plate and mail. the techniques used to manufacture this armor originate from the northern kingdoms, though it obviously takes inspiration from the ancient Praemoran Empire. Atop all this he wears a black hooded cloak. His apparel is also enchanted with the essence of the abyss.

Armament/Gear | he carries with him a greatsword, forged in the fires of the abyss, imbued with its power. He also carries with him another strange device, which he made himself during his travels which he keeps slung around his back.

Alignment | Maverick

Personality/Habits | reserved, regal and introverted, Balamir prefers to keep to himself and study whether he is researching the origins of the world and runic power itself , learning about his enemies or simply pondering the strange occurrences of his life. He does however have an air of darkness always surrounding him.

Affinity | Ars Animatus

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Other Skills/Talents | combative instinct, studious academic, war engineer.

Background | Balamir hails from a land so treacherous, that even the most powerful runics think twice about travelling there. The now defunct kingdom of Arcadia, which fell centuries ago due to the actions of a group of cultists. After decades of constant fighting, the war descended into chaos. The cultists had pushed the arcadians to a handful of fortified strongholds, nearly exterminating them all. Approaching victory, they turned on each other like wolves

It was then, the long thought dead archduke vladislaus reemerged as the head of a new army, the abyssal legion, consisting entirely of abyssals. Using the dark arts that had been forbidden in the kingdom, vladislaus raised a legion of the dead, vengeful spirits, their experiences on earth, and in the underworld boosting their power, and twisting their minds, they frenzied, they got their revenge, and they were destroyed, but the legion was a force that could not be kept down, due to its nature, it was raised again, and frenzied again, and again, and again, and for centuries this is how the kingdom of Arcadia was like, three cultist factions in constant war, with each other, while besieging some of the largest strongholds on the planet, while legions of the resurrected would sporadically rise to terrorize everyone. Arcadia did not look like this when Balamir was born, nor did it look like this when he died. This is, however, how it looked like when he returned to it.

On his return he did not stay long. He was saddened to see the state everything was in, and surprised to see how much even he himself had changed. He vowed to take the knowledge that he had learned in his absence to make things right, and thus he had left, he was determined to save his people at all costs, and in order to do that, he had to head into the broader world, and thus he did. He went as his master instructed to pick up a sword and then went out into this broad world in order to master other runic arts, learn his enemies’ weaknesses, and eat the souls of all who oppose him.

Name | Mortirmir
Age | 29
Gender | Male
Appearance | A young-looking, rail-thin man with bookish features and heavy spectacles. His skin is olive-dark and moderately tanned. He has dark brown hair, green eyes, and a light scattering of stubble across his chin and upper lip. He gives off the impression of an erudite, as if he'd be at home with his nose half buried in a tome of some sort.
Attire | He is presently wearing a long scarlet kaftan made of damask, coupled with a pair of muted blue silk trousers. A sash is lashed around his waist, and all manner of baubles are stuck in it. Mortirmir will typically don whatever clothes his companion recommends, though he has become partial to his current style of dress.
Armament/Gear | The closest thing to a weapon on his person is his eating knife. He carries a fine pipe, numerous writing utensils, his coin purse, spare parchment and other items stuffed in his sash.
Alignment | Social Moral
Personality/Habits | A usually reserved man, Mortirmir is driven by an unquenchable and rapacious thirst for knowledge, as well as a curious wanderlust. Lately he has been content to travel the land with his wife, but originally he was quite introverted and his interactions with people besides his wife make this obvious. He is prone to speaking cryptically, has trouble picking up on social cues and has almost no concept of tact. Despite this, he is at heart a kind and open-minded man.
Affinity | Ars Invocato; however, due to his situation he is only able to barely use the primal arts.
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Other Skills/Talents | Although unable to cast more than simple and highly efficient spells from the primal arts, Mortirmir is an immensely skilled practitioner of the runic arts. The fineness and precision of his control over even the most rudimentary spells is almost without rival anywhere. He is an expert of the Ars Invocato, and an accomplished scholar and polymath. Still, as nearly the entirety of his power is constantly devoted to keeping Inoques on this plane, he finds himself outgunned by basically anyone in terms of raw runic power at his disposal. He is barely capable of casting even the simplest of primal arts, so he must find inventive ways of getting around this handicap. This usually involves clever shortcuts and more efficient applications of spells in order to achieve the result he desires.
Background |
Raised in a family of supremely wealthy merchants, Mortirmir was furnished with the very best education from a young age. The most famed scholars and practitioners in the land were available to him as tutors, and no expense was spared in acquiring him books and rare tomes for his personal study. And Mortirmir made good on these resources, proving to possess a towering intellect and voracious appetite for knowledge. Before he had even reached puberty, he was a noted expert on a vast array of subjects. Greater still were his abilities in the runic arts, where he showed himself to be the equal of even the owners of the most vaunted runic bloodlines. But despite his many gifts, Mortirmir came to realize by the time of young adulthood that none of them were of any use in curing his greatest affliction: loneliness.

His parents, of course, made every effort to secure him a favorable marriage. But Mortirmir showed little interest in the hands of pampered noble's daughters or dainty maidens. And so it came as no great surprise when he announced that he was going to travel the world in search of knowledge, and perhaps a life companion. Mortirmir would spend the next decade traversing vast oceans and lands foreign to him in this pursuit. And while during this time he learned much and experienced even more, he would not find himself a wife. So he turned to his true talent -- that of Ars Invocato.

After searching throughout the boundless planes of existence for several years, he did succeed at last in finding a companion. Her name was Inoques, and she was Mortirmir's equal in every way. But her original plane was far, and her power was immense, and so Mortirmir could maintain the summon for mere hours before she would be forced to return. He initially despaired, because it would take weeks for him to muster the strength required to summon her again, and so he desperately searched for a solution. After long study, he eventually found one: Sealing, a practice considered taboo by all Invokers, usually employed only by the unscrupulous walking the path of Dread. By Sealing Inoques' mortal vessel to his plane, Mortirmir would bind her to Praemora so long as he maintained the Sealing. And so, with her consent, this is what he did. At the cost of his own power, he Sealed Inoques in the form of tattooing her body from head to toe in runic symbols. Although decoratively arcane to most, any master of the runic arts would be able to see what Inoques' tattoos truly represented at a glance; thus Mortirmir became a pariah to practitioners everywhere. But he cared little, for he traveled the world freely with Inoques by his side.

Name | Lucien Lorelei
Age | 24
Gender | Male
Appearance | Lucien is around 6ft even with a lithe and muscular build. He is reasonably tanned due to spending time out in the sun practicing his abilities in safe places, but the thick canopy of the jungle around House Marelda provides a decent amount of shade. His hair is a light auburn and he frequently has to push it out of his face as it is a bit shaggy. His eyes are a light gray-blue and he has a smattering of freckles across his cheeks and nose. Both of his arms are littered with thin burn scars from mishaps with his abilities as he was learning to control it.
Attire | He prefers looser fit clothing that allows for freedom of movement. Loose fit trousers with a long tunic over top that is secured around the waist with a leather belt where he hangs some of the more compact things he needs for travel. He has arm wraps that cover the scars across his arms and most of the time wears similar cloth wraps around his feet instead of shoes; he will wear boots for extended travel though. He wears mostly shades of greens and browns that blend in with the jungle best.
Armament/Gear | Even in battle he prefers a wide range of movement, so he sticks to leather bracers, greaves, and a sleeveless leather chestplate to keep all of his joints free. He has a whip and several small pouches and vials that he carries on his belt, and in a sheath across his back he has two well crafted scimitars.
Alignment | Altruist
Personality/Habits | Lucien is a fairly free spirit. He enjoys exploring the jungle and getting to know the other people of the House. He is quick to smile and is rather charismatic, especially when it comes to meeting new people. He wants to do what he believes is best for himself and the world around him; even if it means fighting for it. Despite his willingness to leap into battle he abhors unnecessary cruelty of any kind, especially towards the innocent or unarmed. He is caring and rather stubborn, and he is more than willing to help out any of the Tyros that need a bit of guidance. Occasionally he will feel that he needs a break from the world around him, like he did when his father died; when this feeling strikes he likes to climb into the tallest part of any tree he can find and let the wonders of nature take his mind off things.
Affinity | Ars Terrata
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Other Skills/Talents | Lucien is incredibly capable when it comes to using his favored weapons, namely his scimitars, and is also confident in his ability to fight hand to hand if it comes down to it. He has also found that he is rather proficient at the alchemical arts-creating various potions and poisons from the abundance of unique plants that grow in the jungle.

Background |Lucien grew up in a rather large village, not quite a bustling city, but certainly enough foot traffic to see plenty of new and interesting people. His mother worked as an alchemist of sorts, and he took to helping her around her shop before he discovered his runic capabilities. His father served with the Brotherhood, House Marelda specifically, as he had several connections within the House. He would come home in between battles or missions and trained Lucien in combat; teaching him more and more over the years, and helping him learn to control his abilities once he discovered them. When he wasn't learning from his parents he liked to spend his time running the streets of his village with some of the other kids, or exploring as far away from the safety of the city as he dared. He especially liked trying to convince the various animals he came across to come close enough for him to touch.

When he was a bit older, after news of a battle reached their home, he and his mother waited for his father to come home. He never did. Lucien spent a lot more time in the fields and sparse forest that surrounded their village, trying to work out the sadness and anger he felt. Eventually he decided he needed to do something about the state of the world, he didn't want anyone else losing a loved one like he did. A bit of an idealistic dream, but he's determined to make it real. He knew the vague location of House Marelda thanks to his father telling him stories of the jungle whenever he came home. His mother, though concerned about losing her son, let him leave to find The Brotherhood. Once he did he took immediately to the training they gave him, and thanks to his father's instruction, he was able to rise fairly quickly to the rank of Paladin. With that rank he hopes to help stop the darkness that is slowly taking over their world.