Name: Klaus

Age: 32

Race: Garou


Appearance: Klaus is an imposing figure by most standards. Standing at 6’3 he is considered tall by human standards. Built from a surviving in a harsh land. His dark blond hair is long and unkept. He spends most of his time in Homid form, as he was born from a human, and his wolf Form is that of a white wolf.

Equipment: Klaus uses rather simple gear. A large iron hand and a half sword, and a long bow. Wearing studded leather Armour in his Homid form. He is often clad in furs.

Magic: Klaus uses an odd mix Primal Magic and Spiritual Magic. Though his real skill lies in physical combat. The small amount of magic he does possess, he is very good at. He can infuse his arrows or his sword with an element, increasing its damage output or giving it some utility.
His most notable magic is inherited from the Garou. Called “Stepping Sideways.” It is a type of magic that allows the Garou to step off the material plane. Commonly used as a short range teleportation to catch prey off guard, it has allowed the Garou to commune with spirits on a regular basis.

History: Klaus was born to a Human Mother. His father a Garou who had come into the City to trade furs and meat. His mother didn’t know the man was a Garou, and the man left without knowing he had fathered a child.
So, Klaus spent the first six years of his life living as a human. He has a generally happy childhood. Playing with other kids.
One night, Klaus had his first change. The unaware Villagers thought he was a Werewolf. So they chased him from the town.
Left alone in the snowy wastes of the north, Klaus struggled to survive. Relying on his wolf instincts to keep him alive. After two years, he was found by a Garou Pack. A group of Garou who lived with real wolves to hide themselves from hunters, or the uneducated, who would think them cursed. Growing in a village where man and wolf are equal in the pack made Klaus happy. Happier then he had been at home. He missed his mother, but was starting to feel apart of this new family. He spent twenty three years as a part of the pack. He had formed a sort of sibling bond with the other Garou and was favoured to be the next Alpha of the pack. This was much to one of the other Garou’s dismay. He was still seen as an outsider by some.
Klaus was framed. A dead human hidden in his hut. He was banished from the Pack. So, he made his way to join the Way Farer’s guild. Joined by Rath, his spirit companion that takes the form of an eagle.

Guild Ranking: Initiate

Theme: Not a requirement at all, this is just for fun.

At a distance, Qantz-Farron is a tall shadow. Black clothing, black hair, and black eyes, none of which reflect any light. Beneath his pale skin are black veins and black scars, the markings of the peculiar witchcraft that he keeps alive on his body. But other than his face, the rest of his body is rarely shown. As a book has a cover, so does he hide the contents of his own body, and taken at a distance, nothing particular about him stands out. To those with interests in humans, he may be handsome to an extent, 6’4 and well-built, slender but not weak. Closer, however, are those void-like eyes, that gently contemptible sneer. Some swear that he’s a real bastard; others are drawn in by his easy audacity. There is no truth that can be gleaned, however. His forked tongue speaks of the machinations of the city-states, of the developed thoughts of the world-movers easily, but Qantz-Farron does not speak genuinely of his own being.

As a book, he is closed.

Magic
Equipment
History
Theme: Rosemary's Nocturne

Name:
Serradrith Vrukeil
Sera, for short.
Age:
26
Race:
Human
Appearance:
Standing at a little over five feet seven, Sera is not a woman to be taken lightly. A lithe, but healthy and well toned frame. Once upon a time she made an effort to hone her body to the utmost limit. She supposes that's still a good thing now, considering her circumstances. Possessing snow-white pale skin, dull red eyes, white colored hair and a distant expression when alone, she gives off a rather aloof impression for those that haven't met her.

Typically she's dressed in travel gear, always seemingly ready to head out at a moments notice on some job armed with everything a traveler could be expected to have. Multiple weapons, knives, armor, and a warm cloak. Oddly, her body is slightly cool to the touch.

Equipment:

• Sera's standard gear consists of her usual armor, cloak, clothing. Nothing unusual or fancy. All of her clothing and armor is well worn, but oddly lightly cool to the touch.
• A versatile one-handed blade. Sharp, swift, and deadly.
• Parrying Dagger-designed as its name implies. Dubbed a 'sword breaker' its desgined to catch opponents blades, lock them down so she can deliver a fatal blow with her other blade. Doesn't work so well on two-handed blades, though.
• Multiple daggers and other survival gear one could expect of a seasoned traveler.

Magic:
Sera's magic is of a Spiritual nature, provided by a patron that offered her a second chance at life. Its rough, as she's still figuring out how exactly it all works but she's managed to hammer out a few useful spells of a mostly combative nature. Its nature and affinity for Ice and frost has colored these spells similarly. She is of yet unsure of its name, but if she does ever earn the privilege of learning it, its promised more boons.

Due to her connection with the Terror, she's afforded a fair resistance to cold and towards mental effects that would influence her to act out of character. Not because of an innate resistance, but rather because they'd have to trick both her and the Terror. Of course, the affinity for magic as well.

However - this also comes with a few other problems. Things of divine nature, while not inherently harmful from simply being around, it makes her no small amount of uncomfortable depending on the exact nature of them from mild anxiety to severe weakness and potentially blacking out, and doing gods knows what in the meantime.

In return for these things, the Terror asked thusly - to house part of itself within her and as she sought her revenge, she would feed. Feed it the souls of humans that stood in her way, as well as those of beasts that crossed her path, and occasionally anything else it asked. It would keep her alive until her revenge had been complete, or their connection was somehow severed. This is why she joined the guild - easier access to things to feed to her patron. When she does it, she excuses as offering something to a God.

Theoretically, the demon could likely take full possession of her body at will, but it seems content to let the status quo remain as long as she does as it asks, and it doesn't ask for much aside from what its already has. Whatever its goals are, are an enigma...but feeding a demons power can't possibly end well. Does she care?

Not at all.

History:
In the fringes of the region, far to the northwest, just on the edge of civilization is the city of Borea. Known for three things - its bitter cold winters, heavily religious ties...and the best damn alcohol in the entire region. Sure, dwarves have their strong, earthy stuff...but if its classy alcohol you want, distilled in the frozen wastes of the north you'll find no better. Cool, refreshing, and strong as hell. And, its known for being Sera's home once upon a time.

And that's about as much as she tells people.

Her reasons for coming to Arskel and joining the guild are entirely her own. What can be pieced together though, is that she left Borea around the period of time six years ago soon after a rather macabre event in which all the clergy, knights, and civilians in a local church had been brutally slaughtered. Since then, she has simply been a vagrant, traveling from place to place and mostly keeping to herself. One may also be aware that the name 'Vrukiel' was once also the name of a respected family in the area.

As she says, she's just looking for someone, all too believably innocently, though she never says who...also food. She says she's here for food, too. Whatever that means.

Guild Ranking:
Initiate

Theme:
"In the end, we'll all be naught but flurries on the wind..."