"Closed minds are always the smallest."

Barely a teenager, it comes as no surprise that many of Silas' more childish characteristics still linger. His lack of proper upbringing is evident upon meeting, but what he lacks in manners he makes up for in joviality and witt. On the surface this act may come across as flippant and aloof, but he possesses and earnest and loyal heart for those few he truly holds dear. It is years of isolation the knowing only the self-serving culture of vagrants that makes him slow to trust. He abhors violence and is squeamish to the point he'd likely faint at the mere sight of his own blood, if he was actually capable of seeing it.


Silas' eyes often generate the most stares and attention, the white-less and almost in-human tissue that remains in his sockets has made the occasional child scream, so he most often keeps them covered with a simple head-wrap. The rest of his features lack the same uniqueness. He is short, even for his age, barely scarping past five feet and has still has yet to shake the gaunt frame of a child from the slums. Hollow cheeks and dark circles under his sockets make his face much less child-like than expected, but his dark hair is thick and healthy, reaching nearly to his shoulders. Finally, the visible parts of his face include a straight nose a touch to long to be handsome, and a mouth too wide to look attractive in any position other than a smile.

Avincian. No writing/reading abilities.

_{6.22 | Redblood | Icevien | Powergazer}

While of middling capacity for a student of Ersand'Enise, Silas' talent shows through the form of his speed and methods. His drawing time is near instant, especially if he is facing the target to be drawn from - the strange tissue that takes the place of his eyes absorbing energy as readily as they sense it.

While most kinetic users only use active forces to draw, Silas's power-gazing abilities allow him to visualize static and potential energies as-well. It is after studying these elements more closely that Silas has developed his own form of movement augmentation based around friction. Be it by drawing from or casting to amplify the static and kinetic friction of surfaces Silas can make them impossibly slick or completely immovable respectively.

His practice in arcane magics had produced much less excitement. Drawing heat comes naturally with his icevien mana, but so far he has had great difficulty casting it as outward heat or even light. His one particular arcane skill is focused on drawing, and was discovered by accident during a time in hiding; drawing all of his own body's heat Silas can approximate death, appearing corpse-like with barely heartbeat for a few hours. He is currently oblivious to how dangerous this actually is, but avoids it purely for fear of the splitting headache that comes as part of its extensive recovery period. Illusion magic or altering his appearance through the use of light is the skill he most desires to learn.


The identity of Silas' father may forever remain a mystery but his mother's story is one he knows well. Aline Rieger, an Eskandr slave, found herself unexpectedly free after her master died of typhus shortly after arriving in Ersand'Enise. Naive and vulnerable, it took little time for the city to take advantage of her. Madame Copin became her employer, at a brothel near the docks in Mudville of so little repute it didn't even have a proper name. Her pay was barely more than the room and board her employer charged her each month, and less once Silas was born; ensuring her eternal debt to the woman. Destitute as Silas' beginnings may have been, they were a happy time in memory for a child who was decently fed and well loved by an communal family in the brothel. At least until his eyes began to rot out of his head.

Or so was the deduction of the Madame, after taking one look at the boy's shrinking, dark eyes. Fearing a new disease that might deter customers, Silas was suddenly ripped from communal life to quarantine in a closet-sized room with a blanket and pillow. He was kept there for the first season of his 7th year, nightly kicking at the door and screaming for help as his entire world grew dark. Only his mother ever came, in the early hours of morning while the rest of the house was quiet. She would wrap him in her arms and tie cool, sweet-smelling bandages around his eyes as she told him about the gods, her homeland, and the life he had left outside.

When he remained healthy and the deterioration of his eyes had ceased; leaving only soft black tissue in its place, did the Madame send for a healer. No academy mage or priest came, but Moriff - a man middling renown in Ersand'Enise's underworld. He was known to take take jobs for less conventional pay than coin, and when he'd heard a description of the boy's condition had come to see it himself. Oblivious to the man's reputation, Silas was in awe as he was told not only would he see again, but use the gift as-well. The man left, with instructions on how to find him if Silas ever wanted further instruction.

It wasn't until his tenth year that Moriff's words came true. What Silas saw could never be called true sight, but it was more than the darkness that came before and he was grateful. Aline was loathe to let her son leave her to follow a swindler, but she had little power to stop him, and they were always desperate for coin.

The work for Moriff had very little to do with the gift at all. The man did help Silas learn to navigate his strange new vision and how to draw from the energies he saw, but mostly employed the boy as an urchin. First he used him as one of his many child beggars, hoping travelers would pity a blind boy. But it quickly became apparent that Silas had much more useful talents. He could make himself vanish at a moments notice, scale walls with ease, and could pockets off the most scrupulous merchants. It didn't take long for his employment to become that of a full time larcenist.

Silas reveled in that time, the pittance he earned as more money than he knew what to do with. He also gained an entire new family; one that didn't care about his ruined eyes, even relished them. His mother was never as excited about his new life as he liked, but she couldn't complain either; he'd grown to old to remain at the brothel as a child and what Moriff lacked in morality he made up for by keeping her son in close proximity and relative safety from the streets.

With the help of Silas and the other children in him employ Moriff eventually grew to become one of the larger forces within the underworld, and began the plan for bigger moves. Silas was sent to steal a crate off a merchant ship in the docks. It was too heavy to be carried out without the help of force magic, and it didn't take long for curiosity to win out over good sense, and Silas opened the package for a look. Inside were dozens of riles, pistols, grenades, and ammunition. He remembered Moriff's words about coming war and arming themselves. Fear of violence for his make-shift family made him drop the crate into the water of the docks, fear of Moriff made him run before the man could know what had happened. With nowhere to go and in desperate need of hiding Silas hid in one of the only place Moriff couldn't reach, a place he even feared. The Academy.

There was plenty of extra room for him there, between forgotten passages, dusty attics, and gaps between the walls he was able to move around most of the campus without being seen. Food was so abundant the little he took at night were never missed. Most importantly, Silas was able to do what he'd imagined doing for half his life, study his gift.

It was Giacomo Giarrone that found him. An inevitability to the point that Silas remains un-sure if his time spend undetected in the walls wasn't elaborate joke by the Arch-Zeno on the rest of his colleagues. If it was the case, the effect was dramatic. He may not have exactly seen their faces, shock was clear as the small filthy child recounted every lesson he had eavesdropped and display his gift. Whether it was pity, amusement, or genuine excitement about his skills, Silas left the meeting a Zenith's Scholar of Ersand'Enise's Academy of Thaumaturgy.


Silas will one day become a great and powerful mage. Once he gains enough influence and wealth he will return to his not-mother and take them both somewhere far north where they could begin a new life free from debtors and prejudice.



He has only what he brought with him during his escape; a shirt and trousers. Not that he had many possessions to begin with. His wardrobe has been supplemented with used clothing left by former students. A small collection of valuables from the wealthier students have made their way to his possession, only Dami knows how.








BB Colour code = 7B68EE

16 | Female | Yasoi | Respected | 8.12

P E R S O N A L I T Y

Her growth was stunted by the common harassment and tantrums of her kin, leading her to always be cautious and drive her to be closed off. Her family wasn’t cruel but it discouraged vulnerability, leaving Casii to either embrace it or struggle. Yet her family wasn’t all bad. Her great grandmother, Yas, had taught her the virtues of being kind fostering a rare form of gentleness. Nurturing the sick, the injured, or the depressed is a pull that Casii feels wanting to try and be benevolent to others if they are in worse or dire situations.

Outwardly, she behaves like she just doesn’t give a damn, even enacting her lack of keeping up performances. Without thinking, she’ll disregard established manners to be more comfortable. If engaged or challenged by someone that she feels threatened by, she’ll quickly turn to rage believing that the best way to settle disputes.

People just naturally make her uncomfortable in conclusion. She prefers to dance to her own tune and will do her best to avoid others.

C H A R A C T E R A P P E A R A N C E

Typical Yasoi build, Casii has a lithe frame, towering at six feet and four inches. Her hair is a bleached white usually styled over to one side of her head. Her skin is a little warmer and less gray that your typical Yasoi although to the Yasoi her most notable feature is her very meaty (to them!) and human-like nose. Her Tetsoi so far are in a light blue color with the most prominent pattern displayed on her forehead. She has two body Tetsoi, a set of asymmetric patterned rings around her right and left wrists that will mirror each other.

Clothing-wise, she doesn't have much often wearing the same clothing as the previous day, raggad with cuts and holes with basic coloring, she'd look rather ordinary had it not been for the extensive dyeing done to make some of her clothes more colorful. She'll pick up bits and pieces of clothing and might add it to her outfit if she likes it, only to discard them the next day due to a change of tastes.

L A N G U A G E S

T H E G I F T

B A C K G R O U N D

They say somewhere on the Alan clan’s tree is a Perrench human ancestor and that is how the Greengrowth bloodline was introduced to the line. It, Casii has decided, is more of a colorful story that changes every time her great grandmother brings it up. A line to try and remind the children that the Yasoi and Huusoi are entwined together in a unique kinship. The story goes like this with variations included:



The story goes on sometimes but usually before then Casii is tuning it out. Yasoi can be Greengrowths so why complicate their history with such fiction? In fact, the origin myth of their bloodline isn’t quite as important as the development to her. Those are the stories she truly likes to hear. The ones that paint the picture of just how strong and clever they could be:



That was a different time. Even her great grandmother had managed to experience some of that real Yasoi culture. Casii loved to hear the stories because it swept her away from the sorry excuse her family has become. The vibrant and diverse gardens they had were withered husks of former glory. Unremarkable compared to the grandeur of the past:



The culture of preserving the life they created faded as the Yasoi as a whole grew closed off. Less of her family ventured out to collect new plants to replace those that had died off. They were controlled not to spread to rightly not invade Yasoi lands as a whole. Unfortunately, that led to the gardens dying out and the beauty that her great grandmother told of, Casii would never see. It was like how her own clan was fading from this world. Dying off from stagnation. Maybe it was the frustration of losing their work that made them bitter. Made them turn to other things to escape the sad reality of what was happening.



Casii early on had struggled with the sickness. Many of her peers had. With so few of her people leaving to explore other lands, they felt like they were always bumping elbows, being nosy, and just being a nuisance. It flared up a lot of already existing tensions about their lot in life. Growing up, it always felt like you were getting snapped at for being in the wrong place at the wrong time. It lead to a lot of children trying to pushback because it felt like they were always under adult surveillance. The event that got Casii her third name had always been an amusing one:


She got off easy with her third name. Everyone remembers the event humorously but it felt like her whole childhood was filled with little aggressions against their lot in life. Her peers were the same, lashing out. Casii was quick to pick up on sucking on Jamb’ysp as it made the rounds among the children. Their parents did it, so why not them? It was their elders that actively tried to fight the slowly seeping corruption. Her great grandmother did a good job. Her final advice the last time she saw her before she passed was enough to convince her. She had to leave and learn what it was to be a true Yasoi.

M O T I V A T I O N

I N V E N T O R Y

S T R E N G T H S & S K I L L S

W E A K N E S S E S & F L A W S

M I S C E L L A N E O U S

❖ Don’t call her tiilyt or talk about her nose.
❖ Fear the Deer

I can do more with my mouth that just say fancy words for you

Everyone is fallible, everyone should know this. When you enjoy people, their quirks, their presence, it is doubtless that there will be missteps, ill-spoken words. More friends are made if you can get over your ego and move on. Grudges are only weights upon your soul. That doesn’t mean the downward spiral doesn’t lie in wait for Vieri elsewhere, it’s just so hard to tell where the ice is thin.


Imagine a statue, that is neither man nor woman, carved from not ebony nor marble. It is a beautiful statue. Perhaps this statue bears a resemblance.

And what is wrong with wearing nice things when there are those who wear rags and itch from fleas? Does it make silks any less soft? Do furs lose their warmth? Do rings weigh heavier upon pierced lobes? What if I told you they could buy bread and cheese and olives for weeks? I would say, you cannot wear these things.

And this tribal tattoo, do you think it means you belong?


Avincian
Revidian
Joruban
All fluent


It is not a fitting gift. Like a ruby when you wanted a diamond, and yet it is all there is. He could never bring himself to truly study magnetism, but his natural aptitude was enough. For the school of chemicals, the converse was true. Which is the truest path? Perhaps it was a mistake that Giacinto funded Vieri’s trip to Ersand’Enise? Forever in a world of wants and needs.


What ruts has time’s wheel worn into a brain? Many, too many, and covered yet more still. Stories and tales and myths and legends, of a country, a second home.

There was a time with three parents, and never a time without. Two fathers, Revidians, the question of biology never mattered. A poet, one, the other a courtesan and Avincian bordello owner. One mother, from Yabusa a model, a painter, a muse. A child: half of both, wholly neither. Marco, Giacinto, Tafari: parents. The heart swells thinking of them.

Drug-smoke haze and sweat and sex, the smells of childhood in the rafters and dodging between legs of chairs and clientelle. Stolen fruit, stolen purses. An education.

Another memory, one upon a bed, straining. Tafari, mother, not letting the hours drag down her smile. Vieri could not manage a simple chemical change that night.

Mother again, painting, the hues and tone shifting under brush. Effortless, vibrant, alive. Vieri’s painting, dull.

Magnetism. An ugly school, brutish, loud. There is no art to it. But the school of The Lover, the god which life made sense by…

A thought: an aspiring poet, courtesan, model, painter, muse. Vieri takes after her parents strongly. They let them, encouraged happiness over all else. What direction does happiness lie?

Bright flame, burning back the night, a candle, one of many in a clump, a tumour. It listens to the prayer spoken in the night, and there is silence.

A semantic quirk: aspiring means failed.

Last memory of home, packed bag dragging shoulder down, weight on heart dragging all down. Did they want to go? Did they want them to go? Were they brave, that the tears did not come when hugging and goodbying, only after, in the carriage, alone?


Vieri does not like their gift but understands what it represents. It adds to their conflict between faith and new rationality. It represents a path that diverges from Vieri’s artistic wanderings and aimless life, it gives a clear definitive purpose: to be powerful, to protect. Morally agreeable, practically just not Vieri.

It's a good thing to get away, no? Another perspective, another picture entirely.

Beauty can be found, if you look hard enough, in anything. Maybe all it takes is introspection, the guiding hand of Zenos renowned. Maybe it is just as ugly as it first seems.

To create beauty, art is life. But it still does not feel like The Purpose. Will anything?

Just enjoy the people, the vice, whilst youth still allows it.


A mirror, make-up, perfume that smells of cinnamon and camphor
Coins
Oil paints, canvases, frame, brushes, and things required to paint
The Menana
Stilleto

---

...

P E R S O N A L I T Y

❖ [ Competitive]
❖ [ Strategic]
❖ [ Confident]
❖ [ Snobby/Unapologetic]
❖ [ Gentleman]

Competitive

Santo is the son of Duke Foscari Synesti and twin to his sister Celestina. His entire childhood has been about showing his strength and potential to be the rightful heir to the Synesti lineage. Celestina and Santo would find their love for each other in suffering the tests their father put them through; together, they became spirited and competitive. Whenever one fell, the other would notice and pick them up. Unfortunately, Celestina would be married off as daughters of royalty are, and Santo would begin his long training to become the successor of Synesti.

Strategic

Santo had felt a deep sense of loss when his sister was betrothed. His attitude shifted from respecting his father to feeling as if he needed to challenge him. After all, he was the reason and the other man that his best friend was sent away. These conclusions began to shape Santo’s opinions of men as to be challenged and led, not to be fully trusted, and to be moved with reason. This began his motivation to think like a strategist and never again lose control of what he held dear. Similarly, his father welcomed Santo’s attitude toward learning how to “play the game” from a birds-eye view. But, as a reminder, his father always reminded him, “Strategy without tactics is the slowest route to victory, tactics without strategy is the noise before defeat.”

Confident

The more Santo learned his ancient Avincian roots, claims to nobility, strengths in magic, and physical ability, the more he believed in his family’s “greatness.” These factors influenced Santo’s identity as a “man born for greatness,” To add to his growing sense of Self, he had a mother who reaffirmed to him throughout his youth, “live as if you are already there.”

Unapologetic/Snobby

Santo feels no reason to minimize his noble standing. He feels he has worked hard to be who he is today. Whether or not others do, is not his concern. He finds honor in acting his nobility, which reminds him of those ideals he feels are important to living. When his nobility is forgotten or not recognized by peers, he feels zero apprehension in reminding them who he is.

Gentleman

Santo grew up bonding closely with his sister. She is his best friend, and there will be no one who can replace that part of his heart. His memories with his sister also formed his understanding of how to treat women. He does not view men and women the same; men are to be led and challenged strategically, while women are to be protected and respected tactfully. Essentially, his weakness is his ideals toward the feminine appearance and spirit. In his mind, regardless of class, women are to be treated equally among each other.

A P P E A R A N C E

Santo stands 6’ with healthy fair skin and medium-length blonde hair. These obvious features are striking in contrast to his bright blue eyes. His chin is soft but squares out around the jawline. Ears stand out only slightly from his skull, which becomes rather unnoticed and irrelevant as much of the time his hair covers them. The back of Santo’s hair is usually tied in a ponytail to keep what does hang low off his neck, while his sides and front are loose to hang.

He dresses in noble attire consisting of velvet. He wears a hat, doublet, jerkin, and half cape covering one shoulder. Santo’s colors are burgundy, accented with gold threading. His family’s coat of arms is stitched into his cape, which bears a rose blossoming into a flame held by one strong arm, and mirroring the image is a sword crossing the rose with its blade surrounded by flames held by another strong arm.

In the ancient Avincian language, the coat of arms is wrapped in the following words,

“Cor Flamma Dolor Exurit Gladii” - The Heart’s Flame Burns Away A Sword’s Pain

Santo’s most notable mark is that of a scar across the bottom of his chin to cheek. The story is one Santo keeps close to the vest.

L A N G U A G E S

Santo is fluent in Avincian, Revidian, Perrench, and Budesrnic. He is advanced in Torragonese, Juroban, Belzaggic, and Viragish. He is elementary in Thalakosh, Pestian, and Warlish. His ecclectic range of languages is due to his mother’s lessons in Budesrno, Pest, and Warlisz, in combination with his father’s responsibility to coordinate trade from Revidia to Budesrno. Santo has travelled with his father and mother from Revidia to Budesrno several times, in his youth having been exposed to these languages several times over.

T H E G I F T

`

Santo is a blueblooded fire child who tests at a 7.30 on the RAS scale. His primary school is magnetic, followed by arcane and kinetic. He focuses more on his magnetism because arcane comes easily as a fire child, but magnetism does not. His third school is kinetic, mainly using force to augment his acrobatics and projectiles. Within Santo’s family, there is a gradual training of blood techniques. These blood techniques are taught slowly because to reach a particular process of transformation that the Synesti family holds close to the vest requires the other schools that Santo has been learning. The only blood technique Santo currently knows is how to transform matter into steel.

B A C K G R O U N D

Santo belongs to the House of Synesti. Heir to an anceint bloodline traced back to the beginning of Avince. His family worked diligently over the centuries to keep meticulous records of their history, previous claims, and notable deeds so as to never lose sight of who they are. The fall of Avince uprooted Santo’s ancestors, but it did not fracture their identity, instead, their mission became one of “returning to glory”. The family has been lucky with fertility and each generation has birthed healthy twins of opposite sex, one son, and one daughter. This “luck” has allowed Synesti to remain resilient throughout centuries of Constantia conflicts, and with time they have made signficiant strides in restoring Avincian power under new names. The new order of today has been claimed as the Confederacy of Revidia.

During Revidia’s war against Parrence, the Synesti family made political and military moves to gain favor among the Revidian nobles, including Doge Prospero l'Anguilla. Synesti’s old money bought talented mercenaries that bolstered Revidia’s ability to conduct land battles against the superior army of Perrence. During the war, Santo’s grandfather maneuvered politically while Santo’s father commanded the bands of experienced fighters. After the war, Santo’s grandfather stepped aside for Santo’s father to take his place in the politics of Revidia, it was in this succession that Santo’s father was granted official land claim within Revidia. He would be titled, Duke Foscari Synesti.

Duke Foscari’s achievements on and off the battlefield generated many high-standing political figures to maneuver their daughter’s into his arms to secure power. The one who caught his eye was Santo’s mother, Mihaela Dragos of Budesrno. The marriage forged a power couple within Revidia and Budesrno. A year after their marriage, Santo and Clestina were born. The two were twins who competed equally throughout their childhood. Eventually, as the daughter of a powerful Duke, Celestina’s path would deviate from Santo’s. She would begin preparing herself for suitors, while Santo would start preparing himself to become the powerful successor of Duke Foscari’s burgeoning realm.

Doge Prosperos of Revidia recently approached Duke Foscari in hopes of achieving a deal involving Santo. Due to the political tensions between Revidia and Perrence, among other nations beginning to shift power dynamics, the Doge required a trustworthy agent to infiltrate Ersand’Enise as a student. He wanted to collect intelligence from the inside, and Duke Foscari’s son was his plan. The favor would be heavily rewarded, placing the family close to the Doge of Revidia. Duke Foscari would agree, and the Doge would pull strings to have Santo invited and enrolled as soon as possible.

M O T I V A T I O N

`

Santo’s motivation is to uphold and contribute to his family’s legacy. Deeply rooted in ancient Avince, he wishes to honor his familial history by furthering his family’s ideals and plans. He is eager to be invited to Ersand'Enise because it is an opportunity to show his value to the Doge of Revidia and his mother and father of Synesti. Deep down, he wishes to make his sister proud and to one day rejoice with her when possible. Santo hopes to make his family name even stronger and grow in strength among those worthy enough to be challenged by his standards. Santo fears failing at his duties.

I N V E N T O R Y

`

Synesti’s Flamma Ring

Santo wears a gold ring wrapping around a basalt stone. When Santo draws in heat to a degree he can no longer contain, the rock begins to act as a second storage and amplifier device. The stone will start to charge an orangish red, revealing veins in its integrity when it absorbs excess heat from Santo, which can then be tapped into to amplify his use of arcane magic or as a reserve.

On the band is their family motto, “Cor Flamma Dolor Exurit Gladii.”

Bloodstone of Dragos

Santo carries a gold necklace with a dragon extended with wings out, tail down, and head pointing toward Santo’s chin. The dragon is made of hematite with two emerald stones in the slits of its eyes. This piece was given to Santo by his mother, Mihaela, as a symbol of protection and wisdom. The hematite naturally balances Santo’s magnetic draw and containment while acting as a field of charging, negating, and repulsing atoms.

S T R E N G T H S & S K I L L S

`

❖ Educated
❖ Acrobatic
❖ Blade Dancer (rooted in Zebaka)

Educated

Santo is extremely literate by today’s standards; this has aided him in being linguistic in several languages and has given him insight into politics, social norms, and an ability to learn/adapt quickly to new subjects.

Acrobatic

Santo lacks raw physical strength; he will never be seen lifting heavy objects with his physical body or using his body as a heavy object. Instead, he practices agility and balance. There is no landscape Santo cannot figure out how to traverse and no space he cannot dance in. He is constantly testing his ability to jump, leap, grab, roll, flip, catch, dive, spring, run, and climb.

Blade Dancer

Santo was privileged to have been mentored by a Joru Karoist who developed a strong strategic relationship with Santo’s father during Joru’s reformation. When the dust settled, and Joru became free of Oswentu, the Joru strategic advisor was given freedom within the walls of Synesti, later to become ward and martial trainer of Santo. It is in this relationship that Santo learned Zebaka, and he fused this martial style with his swordsmanship. Combined with his acrobatic talent, Force, and strategic thinking, he is a strong blade dancer.

W E A K N E S S E S & F L A W S

`

❖ Raw Strength
❖ Bipolar
❖ Overconfident

Raw Strength

Santo will not be seen lifting heavy objects with his physical body. He lacks the interest to train and maintain at a level required to build raw physical strength.

Bipolar

Santo suffers episodes of manic-depression. One day he may feel charismatic, and on another, he lacks motivation. His turbulent nature may be rooted in his intrinsic feeling to fully realize his potential as great while simultaneously feeling extrinsic pressures to be great where the potential to fail is enough to paralyze him.

Over Confident

Santo is overconfident in his abilities. He pays more attention to others’ weaknesses than his own, creating a form of blindness under conditions he is not ready or prepared to face. This can lead to self-inflicting damage and placing himself in situations that jeopardize his life.

M I S C E L L A N E O U S

Hex codes
[color=d4af37] [/color] metallic gold
[color=BC3823] [/color] blood orange
[color=CC5500] [/color] burnt orange

"Power has no value without a purpose."

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Colette is the hard working big sister type. As an example to the kids in her hometown she has a lot of expectations for herself. She has been a protector of the weak since childhood, always picking fights with bullies to protect her friends. She is deeply devoted to Quentism, but has begun to grow distant of the church's authority for various reasons. She has a great disdain for those who avoid responsibility or take advantage of others. Colette can be a bit of a hardass at times, but she has a loving spirit and is quick to embrace other people. That doesn't mean she's naive; She's not nearly as soft as her precious Yalen. She is slow to forgive those with evil in their hearts.




Knows a smattering of Enthish as well, but only the curse words.


Colette spends the majority of her day wearing heavy armor, so her body has become a bit sinewy. Despite the muscles, she has a soft and feminine countenance. She spares no effort taking care of her hair, hoping to someday meet her prince. She likes to wear comfortable dresses when she isn't on duty. Doesn't have as many scars as one would expect from her line of work. She stands around five feet eight inches tall.


Colette received some tips on magic usage from the Brotherhood of Sunset orphanage, but her true potential was realized after she joined the Sisters of the Unconquered Sun. She has been training the Gift for over ten years and possesses both an abnormally high RAS and competency in multiple different schools. She has a good balance of offensive and defensive spells in her arsenal, with which she can hold off a squad of lesser mages singlehandedly. Her specialty is in weakening the opponent's body with chemical spells before crushing them in close quarters combat. She has practiced keeping her manas close to full while on duty in case someone gains the initiative against her. In a battle of drawing speed her strategy is to pin the enemy down with her swordplay. Her qualifications rival those of a Tan-Zeno.

Kinetic: Master level
Chemical: Expert level
Binding: Journeyman
Arcane: Adept level
Magnetic: Adept level

Blood type: Baseborn, Devourer


Colette's life is not a grand story. She has lived in Vilamòs for the majority of her life. Unlike the other children in the monastery, she knew her parents for several years before losing them to a natural disaster. She was forced to become independent long before other kids her age, which led to her to becoming something like a role model for the orphanage. Everyone has treated her like an older sibling since she began living in the monastery, and she took on the role of watching over new arrivals. When she came of age and it was time to choose a career path, she initially chose to be a Sister of the Sunrise, but her tomboy personality made her too restless for that line of work. Her tough-as-nails temperament made her better suited for one of the warrior sects, and so she took up the blade as a Sister of the Unconquered Sun. She travels quite a bit in order to deal with bandits or beasts, and more than once she has been called to conduct peacekeeping operations and quell riots. Nowadays she has gained some seniority and has enough authority to delegate and give orders. She's locally famous in some frontier towns.



Colette is already walking her destined path. She goes where she is needed, so that she may fight on behalf of those who cannot. She will serve justice to the wicked using any means necessary, even if she has to get her hands dirty. She is quick to judge evildoers, but she is not an executioner. Villains must be made to understand the gravity of their crimes while they are alive, and thus she subjects them to a fitting punishment.


Most of her equipment is supplied by the order. Colette carries whatever weapons and armor she needs to fulfill her duties at any given time. Among her personal effects she has a diary and a chest full of letters from her friends and siblings. She likes to collect random curios such as oddly shaped rocks or petrified teeth. Perhaps one of her ancestors was a Yasoi.








She suffers from the duality of being married to her job while secretly hoping to raise a family. She doesn't know it, but men avoid her because of her drunken rampages.

She is a member of the Century, an elite army of 100 magi summoned to defend Ersand'Enise in times of great danger.

Colour Code: E2E2CF

Associations: Feska

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The Gift:
❖ [ Kinetic: Sound ] – [Adept]
❖ [ Arcane ] – [Novice]

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Description:
She was forced to try her hardest to become the best retainer she could be ever since she can remember. It was her duty as a Jena to serve the head of the family with her whole existence, to repay this insurmountable debt they owe the Hohnsteins. Charlotte, as the firstborn, had been assigned the task, always thinking it was unfair that she had to be their ideal while her siblings were barely taught.

In current times the name Charlotte is almost foreign to her, having been under the guise of “Karl” almost a decade now. As a retainer Karl never opened up about anything as just seeing Dorothea smile was enough for her. Charlotte, however, has begun to feel doubts if she is truly her own person still or if Karl has consumed all that she was.

Karl’s face usually shows a slight smile. A more feminine face than men of her age have, however she is still rather stern with identifying as a man. Studious, Karl always loved to read books with Dorothea and kept her love for reading all these years later.

The Feskan is a polite, soft spoken person that can switch to bad mouthing people if they get her mad enough.

Drink deep, eat well, and dress to impress. This is the way.

Some nobles are recognizable due to the way they walk and act. Some are recognizable for the way they dress. Yuliya is both, she immediately stands out as someone who has never worked a field or a market. Lithe and of average height, her skin is immaculate and extremely pale, and her golden blonde hair is in excellent condition, being found in shifting hairstyles depending on her feelings during the day. One thing is for certain though, flowers are a staple. Black tulips, camellia and lobelias are among her favourites as they are a bit more favourable to her home climate, though many new additions have been made since arriving at Ersand'Enise. Her fashion is gaudy and definitely outrageously expensive, ranging from silks from the north to luxuriously soft furs from the Vossoriyan hinterlands. She isn't one to dress for comfort over style though, in fact, she's rather the opposite. She seldom is seen without cosmetics and jewellery, and lives by a mantra from her late mother. "Beauty hurts!"




❖ Vossoriyan - Native.
❖ Old Eskandish - Fluent.
❖ Avincian - Semi-fluent. Written is still a difficulty due to script, and she has a tendency to use old expressions, terms and grammar structures that aren't used anymore, but she is studying hard and it's quickly becoming her second best language.
❖ Habenaki Languages - Fluent spoken, advanced written.
❖ Sycari - Advanced spoken, intermediate written
❖ Hegelan - Advanced spoken, beginner written.
❖ Sawandi - Intermediate
Vossoriya is vast and holds a large amount of people and neighbours. There is no binding tongue in Callanast like there is in Severa and Constantia, and so nobles and especially royals are expected to learn a vast amount of languages to communicate with the wide variety of subjects in and outside of the realm.


8.26 RAS | Blueblood | Sanguinaire | Icevein | Leadvein | Sensemaster

While the royal has had some formal and private training, she's not received anything close to the education offered at either the Golden Star or Ersand'Enise. What she makes up for in that however, is a rather high RAS score and live combat experience. She's only recently began to dive into school mastery, particularly favouring the arcane and kinetic schools, but also taking a noted interest in Atomic since arriving at the academy and finding out she is eligible.

Magnetic - Neophyte - Has had interest but didn't really catch her attention like the other schools

Arcane - Apprentice - Used in live combat before, and is proficient with drawing and expelling heat. Has a noted interest in learning more so that she can better stay cool

Binding - Neophyte - Never took interest prior to her brothers ailment due to its restrictions regarding offensive capabilities but is interesting in learning if it has any chance of helping the tethered.

Chemical - Neophyte - There is understanding present, just a lack of practical experience and theory with the school. She may pursue it further given its inherent compatibility with arcane.

Kinetic - Adept - Her most used school in actual combat and the one that she has the most fun and compatibility with.

Atomic - Neophyte - Recent knowledge to the girl and something she's taken a special interest in.



Born in the Vossoriyan winter, Yuliya was the second child of Tsar Ilyan II, the ruling monarch for 15 years at that point in time. She was a later birth than her much sterner older brother, and seemed to inherit the carefree side of the ruler that he never quite got to express. It's very safe to say that she had a much easier upbringing than her sibling as well. While Andrei went through rigorous training, Yuliya had all the time in the world to pursue the hobbies she wanted. She was made to sit down and learn languages and court etiquette, but the level of free time between them differed starkly. Perhaps deep down, she wished their roles were reversed. For she cared for her elder brother deeply, and wanted to take the weight of responsibility off his shoulders. Some of her fondest memories are sitting beside him, watching him pour over mountains of documents, preparing for the day he would one day wear the oh-so heavy crown. He confessed to her that he didn't quite want to rule, but since he was going to, he would make the best effort he could.

When he went to study in the great academy in Sawand, it filled her with a deep loneliness and wanderlust. She was doted on by her parents, but she too longed for adventure. A different route perhaps, to lighten the load. Heading the same path would not lead to much, but she begun to take a great interest in the history of their land. Of their founding, and of the re-connection that had happened less than a 100 years ago. It was sparse, but occasionally she'd heard of a wealthy merchant or a higher noble sending their child to a similar great academy at court, one that might be larger than Golden Star - Ersand'Enise. She figured this was the route she would take, and she began to pester her parents to no avail. Her father would not have her go so far away, not at such a young age, when she knew so little of the real world.

Tsar Ilyan would come to regret these words, as she began to roam. First the very large estate, then the streets of the capital. Something needed to fill the hole she felt, so she began to explore and get up to hijinks. This was also around the time she'd begun to manifest her gift, which meant that any altercations or trouble she had were swiftly dealt with. Conversely, it also made her a hit at Lednikrayva, even if she was probably a little too young to be there at the time. It did not stop her from developing a taste for wine though. It also shaped her sense of humour into what it is today though.

Not everything in her life was all fun and games. Vossoriya had been experiencing internal turmoil for quite a few years at this point, and the cracks were beginning to show. Many 'princes' wished for a return to the old ways, before Mikhail the Scourge, and a return to the elective monarchy of the past, where their high titles would matter. So they begun to plot and collude. With the very powerful heir to the throne away in a foreign land, they saw their chance and took it. Vast swathes of gunpowder were placed under the royal palace and amplified by a rather proficient chemical user. And fire spread through the surrounding area. They had killed one of their targets, but Ilyan had a diplomatic meeting on the day, and Yuliya was on the streets as usual. Many servants were dead, and the resting pregnant queen had passed in a single blow.

Ilyan was furious. Yuliya was livid. A casus belli had been given to them, and they enacted on it fully. While there was much fighting, it quickly became an execution as many who would have rallied to their side feared the wrath of the Tsar and stood down during the great purge that occurred. Yuliya had lost a lot of her free spirited nature, and bloodied herself well in the conflict, replacing sorrow for rage towards the offenders. They had taken so much from her, it was only right that she repay them in full. It's what their founder would have wanted. An eye for an eye.

Her father was never the same after. He had become a shell of his former self, and stayed in his quarters for days at a time, only leaving to meet with important delegations. As time passed, he became weaker, paler, gaunter. Yuliya grew into a healthy young woman, though she never carried the same joy and spirit that she did before. She still smiled, and laughed, and joked, but she had lost a part of herself when her mother and unborn sibling died. She felt a similar loneliness to the time her brother left, except this time she knew she wasn't going to come back eventually like her brother was. She distracted herself, taking on many of the matters of state that her father had abandoned in his sorrows. She was no expert, but his advisors needed royal decree and she was happy to ease the load of her grieving father. Before long, she'd become used to the lifestyle.

Her reality broke somewhat when her brother came home. But he was not what he once was. Eyes of black flesh and in a chair that moved him, he was no longer what he once was. He didn't stand taller than her, or have the stern but kindly gaze that he once had. It felt.. hollow. Yet, he wasted no time. He rushed from job to job like he didn't want to lose a second. And before long, she found out why. By all accounts, he didn't have long to live. Every magician at Golden Star had said so, confused as to how the tethering had gotten to him so late in his life, or how he'd lost his sight to powergazing long after his birth. It only made her old urges, to travel to Constantia come back. Perhaps there'd be a cure there. For where else did she have to turn.

Her father didn't have the willpower to say no, and her brother was ready to assume the mantle with as many years as he had left. So he gave her the go-ahead under the condition she travelled anonymously. She hugged him one last farewell, and set off on a grand voyage to Ersand'Enise, hoping to save her last friend.


Yuliya always wanted to travel to Constantia and Ersand'Enise to both experience things for herself, and make her country a better place. Her most recent motivation is a cure to the tethering, a mana type that has cut her brothers lifespan significantly. She figures if there's not a way to do it in Ersand'Enise or Golden Star, then there is no hope, but she will at least try. She's truly afraid of losing her brother currently, as he is all she has left in terms of close family. Beyond this, she truly wants to make friends. She has met with other nobles and made acquaintances but she's never really made a deep, meaningful friendship, someone that she can count on and that can count on her.


❖ A large chest of clothes. All are very fine and outrageously expensive. It also includes her hat and footwear collection

❖A jewellery box, featuring much of her late mothers collection and her grandmothers.

❖A very finely crafted flintlock pistol. A gift from her brother to keep her safe.

❖Rastvesti(Blossom) - A hegelan greataxe. Engraved with runecraft tailored to her taste, and also imbued with shiny gemstones and a ribbon. Definitely a weird looking weapon but highly effective.

❖A large range of cosmetics.

❖A finely crafted journal that she keeps her language practice in as well as notes she takes.








Color = Pink
Definitely more of a sweet tooth.
Favourite candy is liquorice.

Enveloped by the Moon, the Sun will one day smile on me.

18 | Female | Nikanese | Artisan | 5.73

P E R S O N A L I T Y

Ymiico was actually none of these things until recently. Life happened so fast that she was left to the wayside and witness her own domicile invaded and perverted. Because of the advent of these events, her personality slowly underwent changes that were incongruent to her original identity. She was once jovial, gentle, and a caring and soothing presence like the hearth on a cold or otherwise damp day. Like an eclipse the shadows slowly began to crawl up and swallow her, eclipsing who she once was. Ymiico is perfectly aware she was never like this, but it’s kept her alive and she wasn’t going to stop now when she still has work to do. She’s nervous like a house cat now suddenly made homeless. She trusts no one and is very quick to tuck tail and run. The slightest sense of danger from her gut leads her to completely disengage from her current environment. Never sleeping in the same place twice. Who knows, maybe when all is said and done the sun can illuminate the light within her once more.

C H A R A C T E R A P P E A R A N C E

Ymiico embraces her natural Yasoi figure. She appreciates the long slender legs she was give. To hear she never felt ‘lanky’, instead she felt like the towering trees that encompassed all of nature. She was allowed to come into her frame and flourish like a spring flower. And that she did. While she still had the longer limbs and torso, she filled in well at her age. A kind of painting sophistication that commanded an audience or at least a second look. Her height is a modest 195 cms accompanied by a 68kg frame. An alluring curtain of chestnut brown hair overflows down her back with two strands pulled to the front curled betwixt ribbons of green and clips of gold. Her skin is reminiscent of the gold jewelry lining the outer rim of her ears and the ribbons in her hair. Unblemished, even as far as to not have any Tetsoi, as Nikanese Yasoi viewed that tradition with scrutiny. The most notable feature would be the trademarked monolid center to the Nikanese Yasoi. As far as clothing options she chooses light airy fabrics that feel loose and soft on her skin. She sometimes wears a one shoulder epaulet she received from her family with a flowing green cape attached. Finishing her wardrobe off are a pair of almost silk archer gloves etched with golden inlaid patterns.

L A N G U A G E S

Tarlonese Yasoi (Native)
Nikanese (Native)
Avincian (Broken)

T H E G I F T

| 5.73 RAS | Mooncaster |

Arcane: Probably the most salient gift in her wheelhouse that has become central to her ability to survive. Ymiico was trained and then further learned to increase her arcane affinity to hone her ability to manipulate light. Specifically, the light around her. Most of her spells work in keeping her invisible, aiding in her stealth, and manipulating the senses of those around her. What better way to erase herself than to hide in plain sight and warp the senses of others to completely ignore her despite proximity.

Chemical: Ymiico likes to utilize and encapsulate a lot of her understanding of the world in a chemical aspect. She’s always been interested in alchemical reactions and the science behind it. Being an ally of the darkness, whether freely or forcefully, she was taught how to make several tools that depended on reactions occurring at the appropriate time. Smoke bombs, paper fires, etc. Now with Chemical magic she can amplify those destructive yet utility abilities and defend herself by altering the perception of others to ensure she’s never seen or detected.

Kinetic: The last school of magic she subscribes to. This school more or less acts a binder for the first to that mostly amplifies what she can already do. Slowing enemies, disrupting their senses with cacophonous sound. Negating all of those things for herself and much more. The most useful ability for her has probably been to manipulate liquids below her so she can travel across aquatic surfaces.

B A C K G R O U N D

Ymiico had always lived a quiet and fulfilled life, she never wanted for more and her dreams were perfectly contained within the confines of her home village. While she wasn’t poor or rather her family, they never went without or needed for naught. It wasn’t that Ymiico was cut off from the outside world. She need that many continents and countries existed, all with their own cultures and even Yasoi, but again she was perfectly contempt with her own life that she had with her family.

Originally things weren’t so easy for her. She grew up at the tail end of the warring period, Himitsu Sensoo, which meant her family basically came from nothing. They had seen senseless violence and crimes committed. Even transgressions against them when they were simple farmers and sent their goods as part of the war effort. Ymiico never met most of her relatives, mostly because they were slaughtered as by products of the war and captivity. She was lucky to say the least, had she been born during it who knows where or if she’d be around. It was something difficult to attach herself to seeing as she was a mere child when it occurred and had no recollection of it outside the stories recanted by her parents and those who managed to survive in their tiny village.

Either way, they did just as any of their people did, rebuild. It took a majority of her life to see the fruits of their labour. Vegetation and crops revived in what once were fields of ash and soot. The liveliness returned to the faces and expressions of the residents like a warm blanket after a cold winter. Through it all, it was a satisfying picture even for her. While the money her father made farming, her family was blessed with the construction of a consortium. Now normally these were only seen in the main cities, but there was enough business passing through their village, seeing as it was between the main city and the port, that they could set one up. Her mother was the main figurehead and boss that other girls turned to. She was a Geisha of course, responsible for the entertainment and attendant to men.

Ymiico never knew how she learned her skills, but she never asked, it was beyond her anyways. Once old enough, she worked with her mother in the establishment. She simply assisted instead of working, however that didn’t stop the guests from fawning over her. This was no coincidence as even the girls were enamored with her. Her demeanor was calm yet radiated a warm constitution that was infectious. She was always happy, and it was clearly worn on her face. A mom in all senses of the word save the children. Attentive to everyone’s needs without being overbearing. Between her personality and her beauty that was beginning to fill in, she was perfect. Her mother knew her daughter would end up attracting some unwanted attention.

That day had finally come when the Shogunate of their country had descended onto the fields of the Nikanese Yasoi. The practice of the Shogunate and the Emperor taking their secondary or tertiary wife from the Yasoi population was commonly known. Never had they set foot outside of the city however, there was enough Yasoi around that they didn’t need to. This precedent was only supported by the establishment her mother had owned. She took the necessary precautions to hide her daughter as best she could with such little warning. Ymiico watched on from behind a sliding door where storage mostly sat. He was young, but almost twice the age of her. Masculine in all senses of the word and quite handsome. Perhaps they weren’t as bad as the stories had made them out to be. Hours went and he had passed through all the women available, none to his delight.

He asked once if there was any more selection, but with hesitation in her mother’s voice in all of two seconds and the inconvenient stumbling of her attempt to shift position in the closet, alerted the Shogun. To his delight she was just as he desired, he would take no one else as his concubine from this point forward. Try as she might, even pleading to take her daughters place, the Shogun would not have it. The stories were true, she just didn’t think she’d have to experience it herself.

The whole affair had weighed heavily on her, each day taking longer than the last. She was taken into the disparagingly large city to be reformed into a proper woman. Not that she was far from it, but she needed just a bit of refinement. It was training like none other she endured before, to be quite honest it was exhausting. Many a times she thought of escaping her prison, like a bird in a cage, yet she knew they would never let her walk away. They were always watching. She did get to spend some moments with the Shogun, but she was rigid and took no attempts of rapport from the young dictator. This often upset him, but he never showed her punishment.

One night after being sent away from the Shogun she returned to her room with a blank parchment on her desk. She knew not of the meaning behind the gesture until she raised the parchment to an open flame, yielding a secret message. Her primary security detail had been working undercover for years now, gaining the favor of the shogun. A small revolutionary party had been in the wings for years biding time to gain enough trust and resources to initiate a coup. He couldn’t help but see her discontent and wanted to help her return home. From then on, they met in private on typical duties, which led to training her in weaponry and the basics of magical manipulation.

Despite this she continued to meet with the Shogun and slowly the walls and inhibitions began to gave way under his hospitality. Once her mind wasn’t clouded by bitterness and she heard more than two words from his mouth she learned he was quite gentle. She was scared she was being manipulated into thinking this or conditioned to say the least. Howbeit the man was refined in the art of communication and empathy. He would explain how he knew things looked, but it was a tradition that needed to be upheld regardless if he were to be hated for it. He made her stay as comfortable as he could even if she did not truly love him. For he didn’t truly love her the same as he was still in love with his first wife. This put pressure on her dedication to the coup she had been training for.

And so, on the eve of the coup, Ymiico could not bear the gravity of the situation, being on both sides. Instead of deciding on who to back, she backed herself and fled the estate successfully. She couldn’t return to her village, so she needed somewhere else to go. Tarlon. They had a university there and she was the age to enroll. Perfect! Minus the small caveat she was broke and only had the wealth of the shogun to satisfy any material need. Before she set off, she had stolen sacred jewels from the estate she would use to pawn off to fund her tuition.

On her arrival to Tarlon she couldn’t help but feel a wrench in her stomach and the overwhelming paranoia that someone was following her. The things the shogun and the emperor were to do to her would border on murder. She couldn’t risk it. Her wish was granted or so she thought. On the arrival to campus, she was greeted with a large population of Nikanese Yasoi. To her horror she wouldn’t be the only one. What if they knew who she was? She was a dead giveaway. The question began to rush her brain, with her sense overloaded the faces began to blur and take shape of those that occupied her hometown and the walls of the city. They would surely force her to go back. After recovering from her hyperventilation, she decided she could no longer enroll in Tarlon, she needed to go elsewhere, further away, Ersand'Enise.

She knew not how she would pay for her tuition, but she had enough to get her there and attend a semester worth of classes. Surely, she would figure it out and make sure she was never discovered.

M O T I V A T I O N

Fear is her motivation realistically. Nothing gets her out of bed faster than the ideation in her dreams that someone is just a hop, skip, or jump from finding her and returning her to her motherland. This manifests in her desire to attend the trials and place in the top 10 teams of the 400 entering. If she does not place in the top 10, she can no longer attend the school and from then her world crumbles. A free year of tuition is a net she needs until she can find someone to sponsor her through the rest of her enrollment. What she plans to do after is beyond her, maybe at that point she could smuggle her parents into the country or by then have enough power to bargain her freedom from the Shogun. Her one positive for being there is her eagerness to amplify her magic affinity…so it can keep her hidden. For now she’s mostly focused on what is in front of her, the lofty goals and expectations are hampered by the trial ahead of her.

I N V E N T O R Y

All of these weapons can be found in her dormitory as she's not allowed to carry weapons. They are however tucked away or take a less threatening appearance when she showcases them as regular inconspicuous farm tools. The gourd, rope, and clothes she keeps on her however along with the Kagura suzu.

S T R E N G T H S & S K I L L S

W E A K N E S S E S & F L A W S

M I S C E L L A N E O U S

Color: Mint
She enjoys the natural hot springs native to her country.
She does like to wear the occasional Akasa or straw hat, mostly because it helps to hide her ears.