Selena (Mizuki) Vixen.

Kitsune

18

Female





Selena is fairly short at 5’4”. With long natural pink hair that goes past her waist and a large floofy pink tail with a white tip. She’s in great shape with her daily training from the shrine, as well as recently from Mr. Reinheart.

Samurai/Moon Priestess Goddess

Selena kind and very quiet, being first and foremost extremely polite. However, once you actually come to get to know her, and she is more comfortable around you, you will see the childlike excitement and wonder, easily excited over little things. As one would as if they tried it for the first time. Once she makes a friend she will do everything to hold onto it, as she had few friends growing up, especially few that were her age.


-She has a great grasp on healing magic, as this was one of her main duties growing up.
-She is adept with a katana, another requirement of a priestess.
-she is able to turn into a fox, just like in the picture. However, she is only as big as a medium sized dog. (She will become bigger later on in life)
-The moon strengthens her magic, makes her healing spells stronger… and her fox form is bigger and stronger as well.
-She can communicate with animals.
-She has a far superior sense of smell, and hearing. She can see quite easily at night.
-She is Willing and eager to learn as much as she can.


-She is overly naive, does not understand how the real world works at all.
-She is quick to trust and fall for any sob story. With her being so kind, this has gotten her into serious trouble already.
-Her sense of smell and her hearing can be a curse as well. Loud noises hurt her ears/scare her super easily. Any overly strong smell can make her sick.
- So while she does have sword skills, she lacks experience of a real life or death fight.
-She is a very sensitive girl, not used to anyone ever EVER being truly mean to her.
-She has only learned the common tongue recently, so it can be hard to understand her. Often confusing words and embarrassing herself.
-Her magic is affected by how full the moon is, if there is no moon she has very little magic power.



Selena did not have a normal life, she was the eldest daughter of the Mizuki clan, a ruling clan over 10 others. She was destined to become the next leader. That is, until she was born. She was a Miracle, a Reincarnation of Oinari; Their Goddess that watched over them and protected them from the evil humans.

The reason they believed this, was because she had long pink ears. Now, Kitsune had very different sizes of ears, as well as different color of hair. However, the longer the ears a kitsune had, the closer they believed you were related to the Goddess Oinari. This is how the Mizuki clan became the leader over the other clans in the first place.

They were still long, though they were much shorter than what they used to be a hundred years ago. Besides that, baby kitsune ears were always small, but grew when they matured. However Selena’s ears were already far larger than any child ever before, to the point where they looked more like bunny ears to non kitsune. Ornari was always depicted with such ears, and to top it off, her hair was pink, which none of the kitsune had seen for hundreds of years. Another sign she was the goddess reborn.

She was to be raised on a shrine hidden on top of the tallest mountain, closest to her ‘real home’, the moon. She was to be raised as a priestess of the moon, and prepare herself mentally and physically for the time she will regain her memories and lead her people to expand into the world once again.

While one would think it would be a life of luxury, it wasn’t. She was a prisoner. She never had a chance to be a child...always training, always learning. She was friends with all the other priestesses in the shrine, but none were her age. She considered them all as her older sisters. But it was always a formality, they never grew truly close. Also she was never allowed to play with any children who did come to pay respects, as much as she wanted to.

She felt truly alone in the world. She could have anything she ever wanted, except leaving the shrine, or having friends. This only made her want to escape more and more. Upon hearing more about the outside world she longed to see it. Till finally she ran away just a few days after her 17th birthday.

Knowing she will never be able to blend in on the island they lived on, as everyone knew who she was right away, she did the most sensible thing...she took a small boat and sailed towards the mainland. Sailing was simple of course. Point the boat east and let the wind push her.

Clearly wasn’t the brightest idea she had. As for her luck, she sailed into a storm. After what seemed like days clutching the edge of the boat, she was tipped over. Losing consciousness soon after.

She woke up on the beach, surrounded by a bunch of humans gawking at her. She didn’t understand what they were saying. But their faces were red and they clearly stank of alcohol. Stories that her sisters used to scare her at night about humans popped into her mind. Frightened and confused, she scrambled to her feet and tried to run away. Only to be roughly grabbed.

She started yelling at them to let her go, prying at the hand that gripped her wrist like an iron shackle. Only for them to laugh, talking excitedly amongst themselves. They stopped suddenly when an arrow whistled and hit the man who held her arm in the shoulder. Once released she bolted down the beach.

She could hear yelling, and while some chased her, most of the others ran towards their new assailant. She heard movement to her left and looked, seeing a white haired boy about her age running towards her, bow drawn and firing. The arrow sailed behind her and into the man who was the closest chasing her.

He fired two more shots quickly at the last man who was chasing her, and yelled something. Causing the man to stop and block one of the arrows trained on him while the other missed. The boy ran past her, his eyes trained on the man. He put himself in the path of her attacker, and stood his ground, he had no arrows left, but instantly started fighting with his bow as if it were a staff. she finally got the feeling he was trying to help her. She stopped a bit away to catch her breath and to see what the heck was happening.She could see the other men who surrounded her fighting two new men who looked like the boy, and who seemed extremely skilled in combat.

Looking back to the boy, she could see he was quick and agile, easily out maneuvering the man and knocking him out with a blow to the head.

Long story short, she was saved by an adventurer and his two sons who lived nearby. Once the men were taken care of, and tied up. They offered her water, which after a bit of hesitation and finally realizing she was parched, she sniffed it… then drank it greedily once the cool liquid touched her lips.

The Adventurer crouched down in front of her after she finished drinking the water sack and began talking softly. Clearly asking her something. And with her confused look, understood she didn’t understand what he was saying.

After a bit of charades she realized he was offering food and shelter, The idea of a bed was too good to pass up, and she decided to follow...carefully. It wasn’t long before they reached their simple home, a beautiful woman with white hair came out to meet them, after speaking with the adventurer, she quickly turned to Selena and motioned for her to come inside, where she would be given a new set of clothes and cloak, to warm her up, and food.

This is how she met the Reinhearts, and was ‘adopted’ by them. Who spent the next year teaching her how to read and write and how to understand this new world, Especially Finn, who became her first real friend. She also found out the fastest way to see this world would be to become an adventurer. Finn, who was the boy who saved her, was becoming an adventurer himself. With help from Finn’s father, she was able to get into the academy as well.

---

An expert in fighting and taking it to their foes, knights are highly resilient against attacks due to both their training as well as their tendency to wear strong armour. On the offensive, knights are just as efficient, proving to be experts in fighting at close range, particularly with swords but also proficient in unarmed combat as well as with other weapons. Rune Knights, in specific, are also experienced in writing Runes into their equipment in order to increase their performance and add some magic to both their offense and defence.

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Valencia is typically a pleasant individual to deal with, primarily in the fact that she doesn't go out of her way to bother people in the negative. On the other hand, she does have a rough side to her - individuals that she knows to be negative, such as bullies and assholes, will become a target for her own heinous attacks; whether it be vocal or even physical, as Valencia is not against a good tussle, particularly ones that she knows that she will win. Whilst Valencia if subject to the same emotional surprises that normal humans are, she is capable of withholding these surprises visually. A world-ending god could send everyone around her screaming and running, fearing for their lives, and she instead would be standing there like a hero, whilst internally fearing just as much as the rest of them.

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Valencia was created as the incarnation of evil - or rather, she was created to follow a life of evil in the footsteps of her father, sir Jaune Coquerdale, an evil and rich wizard that desired to have a child to call his own and carry on in his name. Typically, one would go to a woman in order to start a family, however sir Jaune put his effort into researching a way into making his child unique and to give her advantages over others. It resulted in him soon looking into Gargoyles, for their abilities to fly, their natural armour, and most importantly to sir Jaune, their natural evilness. And so he made all of the preparations he could, poured his research into creating a child from a Gargoyle egg, and when the time was right, begun the process of incubating the egg.

What sir Jaune did not take into account was that being partly Human, his newly born daughter would be able to control the evil urges that the Gargoyle part of her tried to drill into her. Despite his displeasure that his plan had failed at the beginning, he held faith, and continued to nurture her as she grew up, being a surprisingly good father figure in contrast to his normally evil public persona. Tutoring was not done publicly, but was done privately within sir Jaune's estate by hired tutors, who worked not just for the money that they were given but also out of fear of what would happen if they refused.

As she grew old enough to have a mind of her own and not blindly follow in her father's footsteps, Valencia became aware of the truth behind the Coquerdale name, and why even her own tutors trembled in front of her. Evil was a little bit of an understatement in describing her family name, as sir Jaune Coquerdale was responsible for some quite heinous acts. Over time, Valencia's relationship with her father became shaky, particularly since he didn't bother to stop even after she had been born. A book that she read at the age of eleven about the Horrors of Iziari Village came from things that her father had done whilst she had been three years old and left home with his servants.

Despite her growing dislike for her father's moralities, Valencia could not help but enjoy the benefits that she was granted by being his daughter. An estate to roam, despite the servants of evil that often made their way through the grounds, and the ability to choose her path unlike those who were too poor to do so. This included choosing to dodge her father's insistence in delving deep into magics and instead learning the art of swordsmanship. She could only go so far in her elusion, as sir Jaune was her father, and so they came to a compromise; He wouldn't ban her from learning swordsmanship, and using the estate and it's resources to do so, as long as Valencia learned the art of crafting runes as well, in order to grant her at least some magic capabilities. Valencia agreed.

Using the resources of the estate, Valencia honed herself in close-ranged combat with swords and other weapons, and learned the art of using runes. The resources were not just limited to books, but her tutors that knew how to teach in the best way possible, and the guards with their experience. Valencia relied heavily upon the latter, going so far as to use her position as sir Jaune's daughter to pull guards off duty in order to duel them on the grounds. Sir Jaune allowed this, for he saw this as her learning how to be demanding, and a powerful leader. However, there soon came a point where Valencia's learning had to be taken a step further. Both Valencia and sir Jaune believed that Valencia was capable enough to attend Hoseforn's Academy. Honing her skills would help her become a better villain, one thought. The other believed honing her skills would put her on the path of a hero. And so, the application was sent.

Finn Edward Reinheart

18

Male

Human



He is 5’6” despite having a tall father and equally tall mother didn't seem to to pass on to him. He has an olive skin tone with emerald green eyes, broad shoulders, muscular right arm and athletic body. He also has a Dwarven made, arm and leg prosthetic. (leg has similar designs) That functions exactly like a regular arm and hand, but he only has a sense of pressure that he can feel throughout it. the same goes with his leg. He also has massive scarring up the remaining part of his arm, across part of his chest and back. Then coming up his neck to his eye. He also has many nasty scars that are from knife wounds that litter the rest of his body.

He always carries his custom made long bow, which is a bit thicker than any other longbow, and slightly less of a bend. As if it is a staff that was turned into a bow. Which is essentially what it is. Enchanted to be as hard as steel, but remain as light as wood. It has a long thin rod that goes over the hand grip (as if it is a makeshift hand guard) But it is what he uses to hook to a loop over his right shoulder on the back of his dark brown bandolier. So he can easily put his bow away when not using or quickly arm himself. He decides to wear his quiver on his right hip instead of his back. And has leather bracers as seen in the picture. (no goggles)



If you could define Finn in one word, it would be determined, possibly the very definition of. He is always optimistic, despite any odds and never gives up. Seeing each new thing in his way as a challenge to make himself even stronger or better. Seeing the lesson in all things.

He is smart and observant, also kind and honorable. always looking to help others before himself. He believes fiercely in defending those who are in need, even if he has to stand alone. He doesn't care for money but for the experience in life and becoming stronger himself, often spending all his money on others after his needs are met.

He is always smiling and often, quite often. Has a mischievous side where he likes to prank anyone and everyone.



Archer/Rouge - Finn took on his fathers fighting style as using his bow as a quarterstaff. While he is adept at both, he still is learning. While he can fight head on, he tends to observe and find weaknesses in his opponent and use his surroundings to his advantage. Using his agility and nimbleness to use his surroundings as well.



-Archery: He doesn't always hit his target, but he's skilled to be close to be able to. He is very skilled at shooting quickly, able to hold three arrows in his draw hand at a time. (his father can hold five) and fire them fairly accurately within 3 seconds. (His goal is under a second)

-Quarterstaff: He is adept with using his bow as a quarterstaff, while he can block swords and clubs. He can only deflect axes otherwise his bow can be damaged.

-Magic: He mostly only uses basic elemental magic, but he can apply it to his arrows to throw off the enemy or use it to advantage.

-Observant: He uses his surroundings to his advantage, whether for moving around or using a pot of oil, water, hay, Etc. to use his basic magic on.



-Finn can be too reckless. He pushes himself way too hard too often, and has gotten hurt from training more than in actual fights. it's as if he is trying to make up for lost time.

-Even though he has had his prosthetics for four years, they are still a bit heavy. His shoulder and hips hurt badly after long days, the skin under them can get raw and even bloody. Again, he will push through the pain but often pays the price. If he's too hard on them they can break, they are strong but there is still many fine parts inside them. The magic inside can only do so much. He has broken both his prosthetics a few times. while he learned a little on how to maintain them and do minor fixes, he would have to go to a dwarven specialist.

-He wont be able to learn higher power magic. He cant wrap his head around it. He can chant silently in his head, but it takes a lot more concentration than it would others. He has already screwed this up a few times, injuring himself badly.

-He gets a little hot headed when he meets anyone who supports slavery or profits from it. He can be a bit brutal if it comes to blows. This has also spilt over to anyone who thinks humans are better than other races. He knows he and his family are some of the few who are not ok with it, and has to control himself a lot. This has come up much more when Selena came into his life.

-He hates bullies and will always start a fight with them. (Even if there are any teachers he will probably do this.)

-Gets Irate if called too small or weak. Will often make stupid decisions right after.



Born as the youngest of 5 to a pair of adventurers who were partners when they traveled. He was a surprise, being four years younger than the fourth brother. He was also born prematurely. Which often was a sure death for a baby. Making his parents distraught at the thought. But by some miracle, he did survive and grew up in a large town of Everton on the coast in between Hoseforn and Windlton. Far smaller than those two cities, it mostly uses the ocean to transport the large amount of food from the lands around it, being much quicker to do so than to travel by cart to either city .

He would grow up hearing stories of his parents' adventures, as well as his fathers more recent ones when his mother stayed home. Finn’s personality was greatly molded by these stories and his fathers lessons. Knowing from a very young age, he too wanted to be just like his father.

Finn was always on the smaller side, despite his taller parents and siblings who seemed to be blessed with their height. Often being picked on by the other children of the town for being so small and not being able to keep up with the other kids. Often getting in fights because of this.

His father Fenros Reinheart was known as a hero in the world of adventurers and commonfolk. He would focus on protecting towns and citizens wherever he went, even against what seemed impossible odds. Also known for a unique fighting style not used by anyone else. A mixture of archery and staff fighting with a small amount of hand-to-hand combat.

Fenros, would train all his sons with his same style of fighting. His four older brothers became successful adventurers because of it. Fenros trained Finn as well, but it seemed he would put on kid gloves in comparison to his other brothers.

Finn noticed this, and wanted to prove to his father he wasn’t weak, or afraid. But no matter what he said, it wouldn’t change for years because Finn desperately wanted to be like his father and brothers, Finn would often get hurt badly because he pushed himself too hard. This worried his father and mother, so much that he wouldn't budge on his stance. That is, until after Finn almost died.

When Finn was thirteen, he had grown a lot stronger physically. Enough that he wasn’t losing AS many fights anymore. He also was quick and agile, from the times he was ganged up on and had no choice but to run. He could move around the town quiet easily, climbing walls and jumping between roofs to get away. Only because of years of practice. Which made him confident.

He happened upon two men attempting to kidnap a ten year old boy and girl. Most likely to sell into slavery up north. As it was known to happen. Finn couldn’t let this happen. Managing to get the drop on one of the men, Fin used a piece of garbage wood to crack him in the back of his head.

Quickly turning on the other guy who had a dagger. In the next few minutes, Finn managed to fight back, and give the man a few bruises, but nothing serious. Finn on the other hand received countless cuts and deep gashes, along with a black eye and bloody nose. Dizzy from all the punches the man gave him as well. But managed to keep the man away from the two kids, and kept getting back up. Making enough racket that other people were now starting to hear them.

The man finally had enough and decided to cut his losses and started a chant in his head for a fire blast. When he was just about ready he raised his hand, the fire gathering in his palm as he aimed towards the kids to get rid of the witnesses.

With the last of his strength, and no other choice. Finn rushed forward and grabbed the hand, using his other fist to hit the inside of the elbow to turn the hand away. The momentum and unexpected move worked, and knocked the man over. However the chant was completed...Finn had taken the brunt of it on his left side. But so did the man as they were both on the ground.

The pain was so unbearable, he passed out. Waking up almost a week later, he found out he had suffered massive burns obviously, but so bad on his forearm and leg they had to amputate both. Finn was crushed… his dreams to become a hero like his father was gone now.

What crushed him more, was he heard his father left the day after this happened. His mother wouldn’t say why. But he knew. He was a disappointment… he couldn’t protect himself from a thug. Nor could even become stronger if he wanted.

But that wasn’t the case. His father returned a few days later, with a Dwarf in tow. One he met on his adventures a while back. This dwarf was skilled in making magical armored prosthetics that were so intricate and light that it felt like a real arm, mostly. Such prosthetics were typically super expensive, this dwarf being the expert in this. But it didn’t matter to Fenros.

His parents explained to Finn how proud they were of him. When they had heard how hard he had fought, Fenros realized this was all his fault for not listening to Finn and training him as his brothers. Now, he would do everything in his power to make sure his son will have the best chance to become an adventurer.

The next couple years were hard after that, because Finn had to relearn how to walk with his new leg. Also regaining the fine motor skills in his left hand once again. But Finn never wavered, complained or pitied his situation.

A couple years after he fully recovered he was training with his eldest brother and father when they came upon a group of drunks surrounding a mysterious girl on the beach. His eldest brother recognized the men as a group of wanted criminals tied to kidnaping and murder. After explaining this, was when the girl began to yell and try to get away. Without hesitation it was Finn who raised his bow and fired the first shot.

Finn had heard myths of kitsune, as they were actually the closest to the island. Stories of how merciless they were kept any sailors away. mostly thought it was superstitions, and what it really was just dangerous waters, or just dangerous beasts. He never thought they were so beautiful.

After all that, and when Selena started living with them, Finn was the one who helped her the most with speaking. While his family did help a lot as well, and all of them learned a bit of kitsune as well. As he spent probably the most time with her, he is the most fluent in the family. though it is very much broken up he is sure, similar to how Selena speaks in their tongue. Selena will often turn to Finn if she doesn't understand, asking in her own language while using charades till he understands.

while Finn still aims for his original goal, he does hope and aim to help Selena in her dreams as well.

Name: Asmodius Hoseforn

Race: Human

Age: Really...really...really old

Gender: Male

Appearance: Asmodius Hoseforn, often referred to as Hoseforn, is an exceptionally old man. His skin is wrinkled and spotted but remains taught against what was once a muscular build. His hair and beard have turned entirely gray, however, he seems to few signs of balding. He once stood a bit over 6’2” but old age has caused him to slouch and he stands closer to 5’10”. The color’s of his robes have been known to change color sporadically, though they often remain brown. He can always be found wearing a large pointed hat that generally droops to the side and many speculate is as hold as Hoseforn himself.

Class: Wizard probably

Personality: Hoseforn is a difficult man to predict. He is often care free and cheerful but there is a certain madness to his gaze that has a tendency to unsettle those around him. He rarely speaks a cruel word, but when angered he has been known insult grown men to tears. Undeniably intelligent, many also consider him absolutely crazy, though none have ever been able to prove it. He somehow manages to be kind heart-ed and greedy at the same time.

Biography: The history of Hoseforn is long and complicated, Most of the information about him comes in the form of fables or superstitions, however, some concrete information can be found if one looks hard enough. Hoseforn is believed to be at least 250 years old, though his true age is likely much older. He joined the Magus' Librarium as an already old man with an astounding understanding of magical theory and abilities that far out shined most of the other Magus. Despite his power and knowledge, his strangeness caused many to stay far... far away from him. Records state that he spent nearly 30 years in the Magus Librarium’s many libraries, only leaving to sleep, eat, or bathe. He then disappeared for 5 years without a trace, it s a complete mystery what he did in those years.

The next time Hoseforn was officially spotted was upon the sudden appearance of Hoseforn’s Academy for Gifted Adventurers. It is said that school simply materialized in a matter of moments, but this is just a myth,. The truth is that it took 3 days for the school to finish construction. How he managed to build the school so quickly is still a hotly debated topic among scholars.

Hoseforn’s opened about a month after its construction has existed for over 150 years. Hoseforn has always acted as its caretaker and dean, even occasionally teaching a class. How he has managed to stay alive for so long is another mystery that baffles scholars, as living past 100 is extremely rare for humans, even human mages. Even stranger is the fact that in the 150 years since Hoseforn’s Academy opened, Hoseforn’s appearance has not changed in the least.

Name: Maya Jhalavar

Race: Drow (A race of dark skinned elves who often live in far away from the rest of society.

Age: 326

Gender: Female

Appearance: Maya is tall and slender, standing at about 6’0” even. Her skin is grayish-purple in color and long silvery white hair reaches well past her waist. Her eyes are generally light blue in color but have been known to glow bright enough to be seen in the dark. Her face is kind and attractive and she can almost always be found with a smile on her face. She usually wears a long black dress with slits in the side to allow ease of movement. She carries a twin pair of khopesh, long swords with a crescent curve towards the end of them. Her swords are a gleaming silver color with a strange blue that follows the edge of the blade.
Class: Sword Dancer (An exceptional sword wielder his movements are often compared to dancing. The unique style is hard to predict and incredibly fast though it lacks the brute strength of other styles.)

Personality: Maya is an incredibly kind and loving soul. She’s rather playful and will dance or sing any chance she is given. Her carefree and kind attitude is often mistaken for childish or immature, but any stupid enough to try and trick Maya are shown the dark, brutal side of Maya that so many Drow are famous for.

Classes Taught: Swordsmanship, General Combat, and any classes to do with dancing or music.

Biography: Maya grew up with where most drow do, beneath the Dead Island in a place most call the Beneath. Drow are known as cruel and viscous people, they value power and worship Grimma above all other gods. Maya, was different.

From a very young age Maya wanted nothing more then to dance and sing. She almost couldn’t help but smile, much to the distress of her parents and those around her. She was an outcast among her people, a stain unworthy of their time or attention, but this never seemed to bother her. What did bother her, was the almost uniform cruelty of her people. How could an entire species be so full of hate and malice. As she reached the age of what most races refer to as “pre-teen” it became clear that she needed to leave the drow and find her own way. Her peoples patience with her had become non-existent, and she knew that she would not be allowed to live if she stayed. She waited until the early hours of the morning, snuck out of The Beneath, and stowed away on a slave vessel headed for the mainland.

She does not speak much of her early years on Ealinata. She stayed in Windlton for a time, but the town showed to many characteristics that reminded her of her home, so she left to travel the world. She attempted to visit the Grand Tree, but the elves there were suspicious and uninviting towards her. She attempted to make her way too Balmoria, and wound up in the desert, where she nearly died. It was here that she met an already ancient wizard who gave her food, water, and shelter.

The old wizard was somewhat mad, but he had a true kindness too him that Maya had not often experienced. He took her the rest of the way to Balmoria and paid for her to train with a local sword maiden, an elf woman named Lizayla. For nearly 100 years Maya honed her craft, her swordcraft becoming legendary. She moved like a dancer, swift, beautiful, and extremely deadly.

Maya adventured for a time, but when Hoseforn appeared, she had assumed the man had been long dead, and offered her a job teaching at his new academy, she couldn’t help but accept. She has taught at Hoseforn ever since.

Name: Sir Vermont Baleth

Race: Human

Age: 47

Gender: Male

Appearance: Sir Vermont is an middle aged, rugged man. He’s tall at 6’4” with a powerful muscles that have not lost their tone. His hair is a mixture of gray and black, though it leans more towards gray in recent years. His body holds many scars from past battles, and an eye-patch covers his right eye. When not adventuring he wears a perfectly pressed black tunic with gold embroidering along the edges. The tunic holds two patches, one for Hoseforn’s, and the other the symbol of Storalla, the god of life. When adventuring or if he believes he is about to be in combat Vermont wears a set of heavy silver plate mail. The armor looks simple enough and has the symbol of Storalla etched into the pauldrons. The inside of the armor has runes etched into it, giving him boosts in strength and endurance and making the armor almost unbreakable.
Class: High Paladin of Storalla

Personality: Sir Vermont is about as gruff and stern as they come. He rarely smiles and has little time for foolish games. While he is generally even tempered, he does not tolerate cruelty or prejudice in his presence, and has been known to use force when he feels it necessary. He rarely yells, but has look that is entirely capable of sending shivers down a grown mans spine. He does have a caring and softer side and believes all living things are a gift from Storalla, though you wouldn’t guess so from being around him.
Classes Taught: General Combat and Healing. His is also in charge of any church matters on the campus

Biography: Vermont was left at a church of Storalla as an infant, his mother to young to take care of him. Even as a child he was always more serious than most, never playing with the other children and spending most of his time studying scriptures. His strong sense of justice became evident at an early age as he began to get into fights with anyone who attempted to be cruel towards his fellow orphans. He always accepted his punishments for fighting, but would never apologize, saying that it was his duty to help those who couldn't help themselves.

It quickly became clear that he was a natural fighter, and so he was sent to train as a paladin. He rose quickly through the ranks, out classing many who were much older than him. Once he officially obtained the rank of Paladin he went off on his own to search out any “evil” he could find. In his early 30’s he was promoted to a High Paladin, a title that bestowed him a great deal of authority within the church and led to him being known as Sir Vermont.

It’s not widely known why or how he began teaching at Hoseforn’s. He had never been the nurturing type, but he took the job with what appeared to be little consideration. He has been teaching at Hoseforn’s for a little over 5 years now.

Name: Dex

Race: Unknown

Age: Unknown

Gender: Male (Probably)

Appearance: Dex stands at about 6’0” even. His features are impossible to make out due to the leather armor that covers his entire body. The most striking thing about his appearance is the beaked mask that he has covering his face, whether he wears the mask for comfort or for some other reason is unknown. He carries with him a plethora of weapons. Two blackened shorts swords sit on his waist. Throwing knives adorn his body as well as numerous small pouches with different potions and powders. The most striking weapon is his long, recurve bow. The bow seems to be carved out of some type of bone and is littered with runes. His leather armor is heavily runed with anti-magic scripts, causing most spell to evaporate as they come in contact with him.

Class: Rogue

Personality: Dex is quiet and immensely secretive. He rarely speaks except when teaching or when asked a direct question. It is the general consensus that it feels….uncomfortable to be around him. Many believe him to be a trained killer. He has rarely been seen disciplining a student, but this is most likely because few are dumb enough to act out in front of him. He has a frighteningly intelligent and tactical mind.

Classes Taught: Stealth, Archery, Potions and Elixirs, Hand-to-Hand Combat

Biography: To say that Dex’s history is unknown would be an understatement. No one has been able to dig up any information on him, and even his fellow teachers don’t know him well. There are rumors of him being an assassin, but no one has proof. The only information that others have been able to dig up on him is that he’s worked at Hoseforn’s for the past 10 years. He has been known to disappear for weeks at a time, though no one knows where he goes. He is also terrifyingly efficient in a fight and very knowledgeable about the subject’s he teaches.

Name: Maurine Rickter (Not her real name but the one she took as a teacher)

Race: Naga (Naga are a sort of snake/human hybrid. They are often able to take on the form a a large serpant, a normal human, or a mix of the two.)

Age: 250

Gender: Female

Appearance: Has three forms she is capable of taking. In her serpent form she is 16’ long with green and black scales and a white underbelly. Her head is cobra like with with long pointed fangs capable of dispensing venom. Her eyes are yellow with black slits for pupils.

In her human form she stands at 5’6” with a thin and toned body. She has no scales to speak of, though her eyes do retain the yellow color and slits for pupils. Her hair is is a greenish black in color and her ears have a slight point to them.

Most often though she appears as a mixture of the two forms. She has the long snake like body where her legs would be but retains a human torso. Black and green scales cover her forearms and her fingers have sharp dagger like nails. Her teeth are generally sharper then a humans in this form. Her hair is long and the same blackish green color as her human form, but her ears become even more pointed.

Class: Sorceress

Personality: Maurine, known as Mari by most of the staff, is a hard individual to read. She often comes off as cold and calculating. She has little time for foolish games and will not hesitate to discipline those she feels are making foolish decisions. However, there is a great deal of kindness in her. She seems to love teaching and watching her students grow. She is ferociously loyal to Hoseforn, and insulting the old wizard in front of her is a good way to get hurt. She is highly intelligent, and her grasp on all things magic is impressive.

Classes Taught: Rudimentary, Intermediate, Advanced, and Expert level magic classes.

Biography: The life of a Naga is never an easy one. There appearance is often terrifying to those who don't know anything about them, and so most other races fear and persecute them. Mari was no different. Iin her younger years she was part of a small clan of Naga that roamed the deserts, trading with travelers and harming no one. Her people loved music and basking in the warm sun, and were experts at finding fresh water in an otherwise inhospitable environment.

Sadly, at a young age her clan was found and murdered by a group of “hunters” who were after the unique snake skin that her kind possessed. Her father managed to pick her up and carry her off, hiding her in a nearby cave, but he went back to help the others and never returned. Mari searched for any survivors of her clan for a time, but was never able to find them. For years after the attack she was forced to remain in her human form out of fear of being discovered by those who hunted her kind. She moved from city to city, never staying anywhere for long and never getting close with anyone. She survived, but she never trusted anyone.

Eventually she was found by a small group of hunters, who knew what she was because of her strange yellow eyes. She would have surely died that day, had it not been for an incredibly old, possibly insane, wizard who happened by. The man, who Mari later came to know as Hoseforn, turned the hunters into large newts, who then promptly exploded.

Hoseforn became fascinated by Mari, not because of what she was, but because she had “incredible magical potential.” Though weary of him at first, Mari agreed to travel with the old wizard, and has stayed by his side for the past 160 years. Hoseforn taught Mari everything she knows about magic, which is a great deal to say the least. In return she protects Hoseforn with her life, runs the day to day operations of the Academy and teaches many of the students how to harness their magical potential.

Name: Arn Thurson of the Hammerstone Clan
Race: Mountain Dwarf
Age: 84 in human years a ripe 19 in dwarven
Gender: Male
Appearance:









Hair: Dark brown with sprinkles of red. He wears his hair in a half ponytail and it extends just past his shoulders. His beard is only a palm past his chin and sports a single braid.
Eyes: Hazel often piercing as he analyses everything. Except when he is performing his bedside functions of a healer.
Height: about 5 feet. this means he is taller than the average dwarf.
Weight: A nice round 215 lbs but not one oz of that is fat. He is very strong and muscular but not cut like humans.
Voice: a nice baritone and he does enjoy singing the ballads and shanties of his homeland.

Arn tends to wear the everyday gambeson which hides a mail shirt underneath. he always carries himself smartly and is rigidly. He is quiet but will speak out if anything needs to be said. Often he will voice his opinion in regards to tactics and such.



Class: Cleric

Personality: Arn is serious due to his military academy training. He often will quote his drill sergeant when he wants to make a point. He is very loyal to his kin and if he forms ties with others, he values them as family. He is often gruff as any dwarf but unlike most dwarves, he is not a hot head. This does not mean he is a push over and will not back down from a fight.

Strengths:
Languages: Common and Dwarvish
Darkvision
poison resistance
Proficient with Battle Axe, Hand Axe, Warhammer, Thrown Hammer
Proficient with Mason Tools Stone cutting
Dwarven history and architecture
All Armors Shields
Simple and Martial Weapons
Proficient with Vehicles (land)

Spells: TBD

Weaknesses: (What are you less than good at)
A bit prejudice towards Orcs, goblins, Kobolds, Drow and other such creatures.
Little respect for anyone who has not proven themselves in the battle field.
Very awkward around females
Stubborn
Is blunt with no filter.

Biography:

BACKGROUND:
Arn is the second son of Thur Hammerstone. He is from a small clan that followed Bruenor Battlehammer in the Battle of Keeper’s Dale against a force of evil drow, orcs, goblins, and Kobolds. Their bravery and skill with the Warhammer earned them renown and an assured place of honor amongst the ranks of the Dwarven military. It was to this legacy that the young dwarf was born into.

MILITARY SERVICE:
From a young age, Arn began his studies in regards to military history and training with shield, spear and Warhammer. Military service was required of all young dwarves regardless of chosen profession to instill obedience and sound tactics should the Iron Keep ever come under attack as it had in its past. Usually, this service consisted of little more than community service with some being able to actually serve on security duty around the settlement of Ebonstein. Only a select few actually got selected as scouts and entered a military academy. One of the classes enabled them to venture out on patrol duty to clear the surrounding areas around Ebonstein of stray bands of goblins and other creatures. Arn easily gained entrance into this select group due to his natural martial skill and sound mind. From a young age he had listened to the stories and glories of past clan members at the knee of his father and heard of the exploits of his older brother in the Underdark regiment.

It was during one of these patrols that Arn faced the true essence of war and battle, survival. His small band of 6 cadets and 1 elder Sergeant patrolled the desolate places on the slopes of the mountains on the outskirts of Ebonstein. It was meant to be a routine patrol with no foreseeable signs of danger.

They had camped at the foot of the mountain and set up watches. Arn had woken up his relief, a nobleman’s son who had been added to the group more out of political connections than actual combat prowess. The sleepy eyed lad grudgingly took his place on the ledge that overlooked the camp and that provided the best surveying position. Arn had a bad gut feeling but he decided to keep his business himself and headed off to bed.
Chaotic noises woke the young dwarf from his slumber. He poked his head out of his tent, almost losing it to a falling crude ax being swung by a snarling Orc. What followed next was a blur of chaos and adrenalin. Amidst grunts, clangs, and shrieks, Arn found himself facing down two Orcs. The lumbering brutes held their weapons ready and closed in for the kill. The battered and bloodied recruit looked about him, his comrades were either dead or dying. The Orcs had lost six of their own and the remaining two sported wounds themselves. The three of them knew that the victor would have to pay a dear price. With a lunge, Arn went on the offensive trying to catch the two orcs off balance. The deadly dance of battle progressed to the musical clang of weapons and grunts. In stroke of more luck than skill, Arn managed to get under the swing of one of the Orcs and brought the butt of his Warhammer up, effectively crushing the attackers wind pipe. The move however caused him to lose his footing and fall on his back. The remaining Orc did not lose his chance and flung himself onto the young dwarf, bone knife ready to plunge itself deep in the recruit’s throat. The battle and his own wounds had worn the young dwarf to the point that only sheer will was keeping the point of the blade at bay. The snarling Orc used all his body weight and the blade slowly descended on its killing path. Suddenly, warm blood splashed onto Arn’s face and the Orc went limp, a spear head sticking out of its mouth. With a gurgle of surprise the Orc died. Arn looked up to watch his Drill Sergeant falling to the ground. He had lost a leg and had pulled the very spear that had impaled him to use against the Orc . The young recruit made his way to the elder’s side.
The veteran laid there and grunted to his pupil “Don’t worry lad, I won’t tell anyone you needed help against two little Orcs. Sorry it took me so long to come to you rescue but I think I have a good excuse” said the elder slowly tapping his bloody stump. “Well, I guess after all the excitement a good night’s rest is in order. Night night…do..nt..let the …bed.bu…”. His arm that was tapping on the young recruit’s shoulder went limp and the veteran soldier exhaled his last. The relieving patrol found Arn unconscious on the floor next to his Sergeant, trails of bitter tears cutting a path through the blood and grime on his face.

THE BRANDING
His mind took longer to heal than his body. The blow he had received to his beliefs had been shattering. He had trained from a young age, came from a long line of warriors with distinguished legacy even his own older brother was sung on the ale houses. What good was all this if he could not protect and save. The fire in his eyes was gone, days, and weeks passed and the young dwarf had lost his purpose. That is when he met Hardal, a Cleric. He visited with the young dwarf, having seen this type of sickness before. Slowly Arn opened up, the calm and almost fatherly demeanor of the Cleric allowing for deep conversations and guidance. The Cleric knew first-hand about loss. He had lost his father, brothers, and even cousins to battle. “Warriors do not taint the deeds of those lost in battle with regret; instead, the aim is to honor them by surviving and protecting others. You were chosen to live on, do not live your life in self-pity. Let the fire of battle fuel you instead of letting it consume you.”
A renewed sense of purpose dawned in Arn. He inquired as to how to become a Cleric. Hardal led him to the inner sanctum of the small altar to Stollara. A single warhammer was suspended over flames by magic. “When you are pure of purpose and you accept the nature of war and battle. When you take up arms in honor and respect. When you have searched inside your soul and find that flame burning within. Then you may come to this altar and hold the sword. If you are not called by Stollara to be her Cleric the sword will be cold to your hand. If she chooses you….you will know” said the Cleric with a smirk.
It took months of study, self-reflection and hours spent staring into the crackling fire surrounding the suspended warhammer. During one of those times when he would stare in a trance at the weapon, Arn could hear a voice in his being
“why?”
Why what? Why did he want to become a Cleric? The question annoyed him. Wasn’t it obvious? To protect, to heal, to bring some sort of balance to the chaos of war…
“why?”
Because people die in war, because sometimes those who live did not deserve it and those who died should have lived….
“why?”
At this point, rage welled up inside Arn and he yelled at the flames. “Because I should have died that day!!” He fell to his knees defeated, his head hanging and broken sobs escaped his lips. Two strong hands gently held his shoulders. “War is a part of life. Different creatures struggle in different ways. Our job is to guide, comfort and protect those in our care. We cannot prevent war, but we can join in the fray and hopefully that tips the scales. You are alive for a reason. Are you ready to join the fight again? Are you worthy to be the light in the shield and the hammer?”

The young dwarf slowly stood up. He was ready to join the fray. He was ready to take up the shield and the hammer. He was ready to protect. But mainly, he was ready to battle. He made his way towards the altar and the hanging warhammer. His hand reached towards the handle and his strong calloused fingers closed around it. A sudden searing pain surged through his body. He wanted to cry out but his mouth would not utter the sound. He felt as if his soul itself was ablaze. At the point when he felt he would pass out, a warmth spread throughout his body. A certain calm and new found awareness and in the midst of the pain there was clarity. Hardal tapped the new Cleric on the shoulder and Arn released his grip on the sword. He held the branded hand on both of his and spoke knowingly. “Some warriors bear their scars on their body, others on their soul. Be the balm to both.” A dim glow emanated from the elder Cleric and the pain was gone. In its stead, a warhammer had been branded on the young dwarf left palm. He had been chosen to walk the path.

THE TEMPERING
After his initiation into the order, Arn was sent out to the world. This was called the Tempering. Just as a sword is plunged into the fire and the impurities hammered away, so must the Cleric. Refined by the fires of war and the blows of life, a Cleric will reach their ultimate calling. It was in this manner that he found himself at the steps of XXX. The young dwarf wondered what challenges awaited him in these halls.