”The journey of a thousand miles starts with one step. Every step after is where things get exciting.”

Leander Keraunos is many things. Creative is, without a doubt, one of them. Stable might be stretching it. The young man isn’t too crazy, but his high energy and near constant static tend to unnerve most, much to his general amusement. Despite this, Leander (or just Andy) greatly enjoys an audience, loving to show off the latest spell he’s been testing, or just having a nice conversation with big groups. He loves a crowd, and loves seeing new things and interacting with new people even more.



Leander is a native Thalak speaker. He’s fluent in Avincian and Perrench, and can hold a conversation in Torragonese. The Keraunós merchant family is very keen to make sure their family is fluent in many languages to make trading and selling with their business partners and customers go smoothly. Andy wants to learn every language he can, in order to make talking to people easier.



Leander stands a little under six feet with slightly tanned skin, light blonde hair, and blue eyes that have a oddly soft glow. Not even Andy knows the reason, but he thinks it’s alright, so he doesn’t question it anymore. If one were to take a good look at his body, they’d notice his lanky appearance, a result of Leander’s general lack of physical training. And then they’d notice several jagged scars along his arms and legs, and a deep burn on his left side. If asked about them, Andy would simply reply that they’re his own fault and try to change the flow of conversation.

Leander’s most notable accessory is a woolly red scarf he wears at any time, regardless of dress code or weather. He considers it his most sacred possession, the only thing he takes everywhere. Besides that, Andy dresses in casual attire consisting of canvas jackets and cotton shirts. When out and about, he wears a belt with a holster for his flintlock, and a canvas shoulder pouch for holding random stuff, such as chiseling tools, snacks, and his favorite weapon: a set of thick iron spikes.

T H E G I F T

6.42 RAS - Thunderchild

Magnetic (Tier 3):

Easily the most versatile tool in Leander’s tool-belt, to a point that it’s become central to his daily life and style of fighting. Leander trained his Magnetic magic to etch iron with precise electric shocks, and honed it further to give him the ability to walk on almost any surface and even throw needles coated with lightning. Most of his utility spells work in conjunction with his Kinetic magic, aiding in Andy’s mobility by letting him walk and keep his balance even while walking on walls and floating in the air. On the combat side, his erratic movement patterns and use of iron spikes let Leander attack with controlled arcs of electricity, although his manic nature makes this less precise than it could be.

Kinetic (Tier 1):

Andy likes to encompass a lot of his understanding of the world in a interactive way. He’s always loved the feeling of freedom, and his magic reflects this, mainly using it to complement his Magnetic and Arcane abilities. On the Magnetic side, it lets Leander “skate” over surfaces by pushing himself telekinetically while he’s floating with Magnetic magic, letting him avoid ground-level obstacles and fly. But on the Arcane side, his Kinetic control coupled with flintlock shots lets his rounds move at rapid speeds, even stabilizing and swerving them to keep them on track. Even without weapons, the use of Kinetic magic enhances Andy’s punches with extreme force.

Arcane (Tier 1):

The last school of magic he started studying. This school more or less acts as an amplifier for what he can already do. The most useful ability for him has probably been to manipulate heat to increase the speed of his pistol shots, as well as infusing light and electricity with his spikes to make what he calls Thunder Lances.



Leander comes from the Keraunós merchant family, a family of Thalak ironworkers renown for detailed iron statues and repairing the ironworks of ships. From a young age, Andy used his Thunderchild affinity for Magnetic magic to help his family with their work, learning alongside his older cousins, brothers, and parents. When he was 11, him and his mother were caught in a dust explosion inside the family workshop, blinding his mom and burning Andy’s side. His pursuit of entertaining people comes from this incident, loving to see people laugh and smile at the things he makes and does. Leander’s home is tight knit, with both immediate and extended family living and working together.

Andy was sent to Ersand’Enise Academy to promote himself and the Keraunós family, as well as learn to control his magic. One of the last things Leander was given before headed of was a woolly red scarf. The scarf is something extremely important to Andy, as it’s the last thing his mother made before going blind.



Leander wakes up ready to entertain and learn, with varying degrees of sway between the two. He finds Ersand’Enise Academy to be a very interesting opportunity, and loves the thrill of new and strange people and magic. Andy’s goal is to perfect his magic so he can help out in his family’s business. The only thing that worries him is disappointing people. Because of this, he goes to great lengths to keep it in pristine condition and put smiles on people’s faces.



Andy’s Personal Stuff:

Leander wears his red scarf at almost all hours of the day, considering it more important than even his life. He also carries a dozen or so thick iron spikes, about 15mm (6 in) long. These are Andy’s main method of self defense, so he keeps at least six on him when not in combat.

Andy’s Dorm Supplies:

Andy has a set of chiseling tools, pens, and Ỽ2 ⌘5 in a locked box in his dorm. On special occasions, he has a brown top hat and a white button up hanging on a coat rack. Aside from those, he has a few history books, atlases, and fairytales on a small mahogany shelf.

Money in the Bank:

⌘20




Leander finds great joy in seeing things come together, whether it’s a detailed statuette or simply a idea working out after several attempts. As such, he loves finding new ways to help people improve, as well as new methods to do old practices.




Despite his general happy nature, there are few things that set Leander off. Andy absolutely despises limitations to his creativity, even when the limits are there for safety. In his eyes, nothing comes before innovation. This coupled with his manic nature make him a volatile person to keep around in an overly controlled environment. Even keeping him alone is a risk, since he hates when there’s no one around.

M I S C E L L A N E O U S
Andy wears a set of iron bands on his wrists as focus wards, letting him throw arcs of lightning by giving his spikes and the bands opposite charges.

color=4682B4

"Life will always seek renewal through decay"

The first thing most notice of Nazih is his statuesque physique, sculpted from many sweltering days laboring under the hot Firrazene sun. The second would be his towering height at 6ft, his face more often than not angled downwards. Short black hair, clean shaven, tired eyes framed with thick brows and a wide jaw. Despite living in the driest (and dustiest) region of the desert, he is always impeccably clean. For formal events Nazih dons clothes typical of FiRrazene nobility, but for everything else comfort and function take priority.


Zaqhory - Native Tongue
Inipori - Mostly fluent, semi-literate
Torragonese - Fluent & Literate
Avincian - Mostly fluent, semi-literate
Belzaggic - Basic knowledge and understanding, not quite fluent.

_{7.18 | Blueblood}




Born to the Iqbal house of Firraz, in the desolate lands they still called Zaqhorya, to a lineage still burdened by the consequences of the crusades of Torragon. Most Zaqhory had been slaughtered, and the lucky ones; a sizeable chunk of the Iqbal included, survives long enough to see the forming Firraz after the desecration of their homeland. Nazih is no exception to his people's pride, taking solace in his noble duties to revitalize the vast inhospitable deserts his family had been given domain over. Included in these duties were the harvest tours; during the planting and harvest seasons, anyone capable of assisting by magical means would travel the deserts and aid each settlement. This of course meant anyone of noble blood and able body would tour as well, as very few magical bloodlines remained after their homeland was violently ripped from their family.

It was long, grueling work that aided in Nazih developing an impressive physique. Recognizing the desert's inability to sustain long term human settlements, he realized something needed to change. It didn't help that he seemed to have an aversion to green; any plant he sought to nurture would quickly wilt and die. So he was instead delegated to other manual labor among the stall and cattle far from any planted crops. Frustrated and confused with his inability to help his people the way they needed, he begun experimenting to find the root cause of the phenomenon. Many late nights lit by the desert moon and lantern-light were spent analyzing the sparse remains of his family's magical equipment and records. Over time he developed a unique respect for his handicap, beginning to understand the practical and philosophical importance of decay in the circle of life.

This eventually resulted in Nazih developing rudimentary decomposition magic, a vitally important asset to his people's farms. Where a normal supply of compost would normally rot for six weeks to a year, his techniques cut the time to mere days. But, teaching the few other Zaqhory mages how to use his method magic proved to be an uphill battle for Nazih. For so long, the Iqbal people had been harboring a deep anxiety around keeping things alive in their harsh environment. Now they had to be taught that to bring life into their home, they must master life's eternal enemy: decay. It didn't help that such magic was a cultural taboo, as many saw the forced decomposition as a blight against nature, and therefore a threat to the dreamer's sleep. Regardless of their deeply rooted beliefs and traditions though, as the crops grew back stronger and stronger each year it became impossible to argue against him.

Despite the short-sighted nature of some of the family members and population, the head of the Iqbal chose to recognize the unique potential before her. Wishing to further develop Nazih, she ordered him to travel to Ersand'Enise and study within the Academy of Thaumaturgy. In-between his protests, as Nazih would rather stay and have a more active hand in developing his people's land, she pushed for him to acknowledge the potential benefits. Having a powerful Alta at their disposal would be well worth the substantial damage to the Iqbal's coffers, and further serve their overall plans. In the end, Nazih could find no flaw in her reasoning, and reluctantly agreed.

The Iqbal's overall goal has always been to retake their birthright that was wrenched from their hands so many years ago. Until Nazih improved their harvests, this was merely a dream; but now, with population growth in sight and a promising loyal mage training to become an even greater asset, they could finally plan for the vengeance they deserved. Particularly in Nazih's case, his mission was to develop and discover magic that could further strengthen his family beyond simply increased harvests. Similarly holding the steadfast determination the of his people, he already possessed a host of ideas; but lacked the necessary knowledge to act on them.

As Nazih began traveling towards the Academy, leaving his homeland behind for the first time, he was filled with contradicting feelings. Intensely worried about the state of his hid people, but excited for the vast knowledge he would soon have at his fingertips. Overall he knew that this was one of the only paths that could result in the Zaqhory retaking their birthright, and with that thought at the forefront, he strode on with purpose.


The quest to revitalize the Firrazene lands, and in turn the Zaqhory people. Beyond that, his natural yearning to comprehensively understand what makes things tick is more than enough to keep him on track. And yet, despite the amazing opportunity, he still harbors a sense of guilt for what his family and people will have to sacrifice to have him enrolled; which while anxiety inducing does serve as a strong motivator.











BB Colour code = D2691E

"Ashes to Ashes."

He is the only child of a noble family that is specific with military use. His family name has some reputation, but Niallus doesn't let it get to him. Since his parents were always away, he was raised by his Grandfather. As a result, some of his personality comes from his grandfather. A kindhearted person who is grateful for what he has, since he knows that he could have a lot less in his life. He walks through life at times with a smile on his face. Never afraid to listen to his friends' problems, also to see if there is anything he can do to help them. A bit of a slacker at times, however he pulls it together when it's an important matter. Fond of interacting with people no matter what race or gender, or spending time with friends.



Standing at 5'9 inches, having some muscle to his build due to his training. His skin tone is a little pale, with his brown hair that just goes past his neck. his bright blue eyes. Most of appearance is in the picture above. The coat he wears was a gift from his family. A ring on the ring finger of his left hand that has binding magic to it.


He's natural in Eskandish, while he's fluent in
Perrench, Revidian and Torragonese. While passable with Virangish and Belzaggic.



His Gift allows him to forge blades of light with his Arcane. Once while training with his grandfather, he managed to summon one and burned some of his training equipment. Concerned about hurting people, he asked his grandfather to help him control it to some extent since he's the only other person who can also do it. So after Niallus trained physically and worked on his Gift under the guidance of his grandfather. When she could, Bellatrix taught him the basics of Kinetic magic to help him.

He's now able to summon two blades at once, while summoning little daggers that can float round him and are able to launch them at targets. from his mother he can move faster and is more resilient. But he feels like he can learn so much more.



Born to Astrid and Erik Saberhagen, Niallus didn't really spend time with his parents who travel across the lands, mostly Callanast handling matters for security and military. At least that's what his Grandfather said to him. This originally started with his Grandfather Eivor Saberhagen. They would come back for a few weeks and then leave once again, Niallus was safe in Eivor's care. Through some connections, Niallus's education was handled by his Grandfather. When it came to his parents it used to upset him that they kept leaving, then came back. But as he got older he realised that the work they do was important.

Hearing tales from his grandfather growing up always excited him, he always wanted to make his own way. So, Eivor trained him on how to defend himself. Every day for an hour, they would train with sticks so he wouldn't get hurt. He was left with a couple of bumps but he kept at it. At 13 his gift awoke while training, accidentally summoning an Arcane sword a trait that his family have, on record for his family he is the youngest to do this. So Eivor was convinced that he would be far greater than he ever was. When his parents found out when they came back once, mostly for parts of the house we were burnt from them sparring.

Eventually Niallus relationship with his father started to deteriorate, Erik became more irrational. Making enemies with other nobles. An Zeno made an offer to Erik for an arranged marriage with Niallus and his daughter when they reached the age of 21. He was reluctant at first, wondering if there was an alternative motive the Zeno said if Niallus went through with this he would use his magic to help his as he knew what was wrong with him. However he was uncooperative giving up that reason, but given the situation and danger his family is in he agreed to it. This putting his family under the care of the Zeno. To finalize this arrangement they gave Niallus a ring that's embedded with binding magic. The only problem is he's never met his "fiancé" or knows her name, but the ring will hum when she is nearby.



Niallus wants to help his family get out of the situation that his father has put them in. Hopefully he'll find out what's made his father become the person he is now. Because it's quite irregular. But the thrill of questing and adventure makes him think back to his dream when he was a child.


Some money.
A pocket watch.
A couple of healing potions








He's left handed.
His family refer to him as "Little Saber"

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Associations: Herself!

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The Gift:
❖ [ Arcane:] – [ ▇▇▇▇ ] - I can make very spooky images!
❖ [ Binding:] – [ ▇▇▇▇ ] - Free nom noms are good nom noms!
❖ [ Chemical:] – [ ▇▇▇▇ ] - It helps me with boom booms!
❖ [ Kinetic:] – [ ▇▇▇▇ ] - Zooming around is aways fun!
❖ [ Magnetic:] – [ ▇▇▇▇ ] - It was never very fun…
❖ [ Atomic:] - [ ▇▇▇▇ ] - Boom boom!
❖ [ ▇▇▇▇:] - [ ▇▇▇▇ ] - Book-book has secrets only I may know!

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Description:
The great, magnificent, majestic Magemi! The one and only! Truly not much is known about the woman that randomly visits Ersand’Enise but she always has an aura of confusion that follows wherever she goes. Many have brushed her aside for just being a crazy homeless person. However some people in the Truth seeking society have been observing the woman and KNOW that something is definitely off about her.

Magemi herself has not revealed much about herself and her past, the only thing she brags about is on how strong she is and what a big deal she is. Known to be a bad influence on the students, trying to teach them all sorts of dangerous spells that should not be taught.

She has an overall friendly and cheery attitude, not caring about anything that happens around her. The only thing that got any negative reaction from her is whenever someone touched her book without consent. The moment it happens the woman will go into a frenzy, attacking everyone on sight until a Zeno calms her down.

Book-book(▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇) is a book of many secrets that many a person will go mad from only viewing a fraction of it.

❖ [ Curious ]
❖ [ Trickster ]
❖ [ Arrogant ]
❖ [ Ambitious ]
❖ [ Veiled ]

Fiske loves to trick everyone, from the richest of the rich, to the poorest of the poor. It all depends if they’re gullible enough to let him take advantage of them. He claims his family is from Helbahn and immigrated to Huulendam for better trading opportunities. He will always proudly proclaim that his name is due to his family’s origin as fisherman… and that he is not, in fact, a fish.

Snot-nosed like no other, he will always try to hide his inexperience in front of others. The only thing working against that is his smug and general show-off behavior.



Huulish - ‘Fluent’
Kerreman - Fluent.
Avincian - Fluent.
Perrench - Near-Fluent.
Kressian - Near-Fluent.



Standing at a proud 162cm. His pale skin shows a life of leisure, a smug expression that is almost glued to his face. His clothing is rather well kept for being from a rather poor merchant family. His physique is rather unimpressive, having no experience with any physical confrontations. He himself states that he has “A graceful amount of muscle.” yet truthfulness of that statement is questionable.



Arcane: journeyman: Fiske’s bread and butter, The boy loves making Illusions and works to perfect his craft. The harder people fall for it, the harder he can laugh about it. His aptitude with the heat side of it is not as strong as the illusions are, yet they are sufficient

magnetic: novice: his handy tool to use whenever he really wants someone’s good-looking necklace or other jewelry. His skill with it is limited as he shows no interest in furthering it.

Blood types: Blackblood, Sensemaster



There is not much known about the kid’s family and he prefers it that way. Everytime people ask him about his background he will have told another absurd story.

Like that one time he tricked the Traveler with his incredible super cool illusions and wits, keeping all of Huuledam from its clutches.

Or the time the Iron Duke awarded him with a medal to show his honor. (The medal he shows of is of Revidian origin)

However when he is not sharing his grand backstory to others he will just tell them he is a basic merchant’s son.



Fiske’s main motivation wishes to further his arcane craft, wishing to become the world’s best illusionist and be able to trick even Hugo and people of his caliber.



A couple hand mirrors.
A prism he is very fond of.
Some stolen jewelry.


❖ Illusions!
❖ Well learned.
❖ Deceit
❖ Motivted
❖ photographic memory



❖ inflexible
❖ Closed off
❖ One-trick/
❖ Perfectionist
❖ bad temper



color code:#FF00FF

{Do not fall from your tower, or you will descend into the depths of hell}

{Nickname}: Tuuro, "The Snake",
{Titles}: Son of Marcan'enno'jaros, Provider,
{Honorific} - Provider, Biro


{Eyes} - Cyan Blue
{Hair} - White
{Skin Tone} - Pale
{Height} - 7’3
{Weight} - 255 lbs
{Physique} - Stringy but muscular. Swimmer’s build.
{Identifying Features} - A large number of Tet’soi going down from his neck to his wrists.

Cal’tuuro stands tall, primarily as a result of his lineage. The descendant of both Eliis and Arne, he carries himself at an impressive 7’3”, towering over most yasoi and every human he’s ever encountered. He has long white hair that he keeps long but well groomed, obsessively so, and is usually kept in an ornate style. It is perhaps the only part of his person that could come across as gaudy, with various braids, dreadlocks and hair ties keeping it out of the way but together in a nice way. He has quite a striking appearance, with sharp facial features that accentuate his lineage and piercing cyan eyes, although he falls more toward intimidating than handsome on the spectrum of facial features. The large amount of Tet’soi that start from his jaw and end at his wrists do aid this characterization

As for his attire, he dresses well but not gaudily. It is much like that of a merchant, pristine and well fitting, but not so much to stand himself out from others aside from the cleanliness of it. Many of his garbs are multipurpose and allow him to function in a variety of environments, though primarily suited to the often chilly climate of the heights of Tantuura.


{Family Ties: Cal’tuuro is a direct descendant of Arne’alton’jaros and Eliis’qarmena’luunetar. One, a member of the famous Æresvaktr, the other who ??? }
Contacts & Relations:
Sinn’uien’luunetar - Estranged uncle, criminal underworld broker.
{Education: ???}
{Employment: ???}
{Accomplishments & Achievements: ???}

I remember when I was a child. Roaming my family's estate, an ancient house of Luuntiil, my ancestors had settled it after the ‘Great Heathen War’ as the huusoi put it. I wasn’t an only child, but I was never close to my siblings. It seems as if no-one on this island is really close to anyone. You could never quite tell what they were thinking, what they were saying and what they really thought of you, but alas, I had a bond. A brother and sister made for fine friends growing up, but I always felt as if I was one step ahead, perhaps because I was just a tad older.

There were many questions in my youth that I asked my mother. Why did the ones they called the yanii till the fields, and why were they happy to do so? I always got the same answers. “Jexoff will do anything if you give them a gold coin.” And I began to think that way myself. I tested it. They’d polish my boots for change, or fetch me food, or do whatever I wished. And they were happy all the while. I wondered exactly why they held this nature, and what exactly were these coins good for? I wouldn’t figure it out for a while. I continued to play. I continued to learn. I continued to exploit.

A touch before I began to become more aware of my surroundings, my manas began to develop. And on my 12th birthday, I was brought to a place that I had seen but never ventured. A field of flowers stretching the horizon as far as the eye can see of various colors. Although it was a few years ago, I remember everything. The sensation of this place was different. A true serenity filled me as I stood upon the ground where my forebears were buried. It was the last memory I have of my home. I haven’t been back since that day. For it was this day that I set out to Tantuura.

When I first saw the spires on the horizon, I thought that the place must have been magical. We lived on the hills, on great raised houses, but the spires dwarfed any building I had seen before. I had heard tales of how great it was from my father, and I had read a great many books that told me of its magnificence, but it had never truly struck me how grandiose it was until my eyes witnessed it. Marvelous white buildings, waterfalls that cascaded into the ocean, a grand bustling port with more ships than the fleet burned at Relouse. I wondered, how did we build such a place?

It would not be long before I would find out. For I was to be a student, and become a Provider, just like my father, and his parents before him. For that was our role, to provide this society to the masses of people that lived here. Whilst there was a considerable huusoi population at the estate, they outnumbered us here. Many seemed happy roaming the streets in drunken stupors, visiting the various brothels and other unsavory establishments. And I learned, both from experience and from my professors, that the yanii were addicted to the earthly pleasures. Many would come across the oceans to this remote little corner of the world to indulge themselves in them. But we were not to partake. We were to better ourselves. That was our role, as stewards of this island, to preserve the paradise that we had created. And so, I bettered myself.

And while I had always had a grasp on things, I learned the specifics. How to prey on their emotions, how to blend in and present myself, how to make myself be trusted by them, the chemicals in their brain that made them happy and how far you can push them before drawing a response. I never doubted why I was learning these things, for I had seen firsthand what they were. A resource for our people, for our paradise. For if we considered them our equals, and lived alongside them as equals, we would fall into the same depths of hedonism and sadism that brought them to this place to begin with. Just like the yasoi who stayed behind. We were prone to addiction and yet, we did not fall as readily and willingly as these beings.

There was a mette’stiroi for a reason I can hardly remember, a spontaneous little event, around the time I was 16 years of age. Perhaps I had gotten tired of the dodo racing, or the tiims’archa, or the discussions of business and class, so I did something unusual for me at the time and took a walk. I ventured outside of the bubble of the academy, and my wandering took me to a section of the city that I hadn’t happened upon before. It was called Tarnaj’imiis, and it certainly was a bit of a puddle. I remember how the white cobble became stained with the mud and the dirty water that had splashed from the nearby coast. I remember how different this place felt to that field of flowers. How anxious it made me feel just being there. I might have been the only Yasoi there. Yet, my feet still dragged across the floor and I continued to maneuver around.

Many were in their houses at that hour, but those who weren’t looked like starving dogs. Like they might have skinned me for a Jin, but they knew what would happen to them on the morrow, so they wouldn’t dare even attempt. But the look in their eyes terrified me. What could make them want the money that bad? Why would they stoop to such lengths? I had never felt such compulsion for coins, but to these people, it was everything. I continued to walk, and think until something disturbed my uncomfortable peace. A scream, one almost certainly from a child. Nothing was illegal in this city, and I had no obligation to go, but my feet seemed to move on their own. I justified to myself that it might have been a yasoi, even though I knew deep down that no yasoi child would be in this settlement. It was an excuse.

What I saw disgusted me. A grubby looking couple, with a girl who couldn’t have been more than ten, seemed to be in the midst of a transaction. I remained quiet for a moment, knowing that it would be beyond my role as a provider in training to intervene if this wasn’t a matter of yasoi. They spoke to a more well dressed yanii, one in Rettanese navy attire, definitely some kind of officer. And I quickly learned the nature of the deal. The girl was being sold, much against her wishes and teary eyes. I watched how the man talked them down, how he persuaded them. I had no reason to stay at this point, but my morbid curiosity couldn’t pull me away. It was like watching a boat sink underwater, and yet, I couldn’t tear my eyes away. The parents had reasoned that their beloved Jie had manas, and would not be sold for any less than 10 BǎiJīn. By the end of the discussions, she was put to sleep with some magic from the naval man and sold for four coins. Both parties walked away, and my morbid curiosity made me obliged to follow the parents. What would they spend their child on? It wasn’t long before they were in the midst of another transaction, this time with a Yasoi gentleman, the first I’d seen in these parts. I took extra care to conceal myself, but I feel as if he knew I was there, watching. Perhaps that’s why he took extra effort to rinse them in the deal he was making. Their daughter's life was spent on a lim of Brandix.

I continued to watch them. I followed them to their little shack and watched their process. I saw the scars on their arms, and I forced myself to watch them create more, as they seeped this strange translucent slimy substance into their wounds. I watched them sink into degeneracy, hallucinating and dreaming of better times. Maybe an hour passed before their high wore off. It was a shit batch. And perhaps the addiction was halted for a moment, as they seemed to realize what they had done. They cried into each other's arms, and cursed the man who had sold the goods to them, who they had sold their child to. They cursed the yasoi, the rettanese, the emperors and the very gods as I watched them sink into the depths of despair. At first, I felt nothing but contempt. But before long, curiosity got the better of me and I couldn’t help the urge but to speak to them. And so I did.

“Why do you curse us? You got what you wanted. Had it lasted longer, you’d just feel what you’re feeling now tomorrow morning.” I spoke, softly as I usually did, but perhaps a bit more accusatory than usual.

“What the fuck do you want? You come to laugh at us, is that it? You think it’s easy, living down here?”

“Why wouldn’t it be? This is a free place, you can make your own decisions. You made yours, evidently.”

“I.. I did what I had to. You wouldn’t understand. You, and your ivory towers, and your snooty fuckin’ attitudes and your bargaining.”

“You had to do Brandix? Why? Did anyone force you?”

“No… this place… It’s evil. It sucks you in and doesn’t let you leave. Makes you try everythin’. You think it’s just one time, and then you can’t live without it. Jamb’ysp, Puff, Slink and then Brandix. Before you know it, you’re hooked on the shit and being rinsed for every Jin you got.”

I paused for a moment. I’d seen the decadence, I’d seen the parties, and the whores, and the unrestricted markets. But I couldn’t understand. It was all a choice. I’d seldom seen any of my yaluu indulge in these things, and this was evidence why. But I was not so dumb as to feel that these were mere beasts. They felt empathy, and sorrow, and regret for what they’d done.

“So why’d you start? Did you not see us yasoi not participating in the hedonism we allow? Why did you think it was a good idea?”

“Kid, you’re young. You never get the urge to do dumb shit? Hell, you walkin’ through here is dumb shit. We were young too. My pops used to be a noble before some rebellion shit, and he ran away here. Left me a fat inheritance before he kicked the bucket. I was a dumb kid with a lotta cash. Met my wife, went to a buncha parties and just enjoyed ourselves. We told ourselves it was harmless fun. You watch your pals try shit and you wanna hop in. One of yous talked us into the balm.”

He paused to fight back tears. I was beginning to see what was going on.

“Started out at a reasonable price. I had a decent sum of coin left, my residency was still up, I thought fuck it. Maybe I’ll be outta here. Then it kept goin’ up. Bit by bit, I lost everythin’ I had. The addiction, it makes you do shit. You don’t get it, kid. I sold furniture, carpets, anythin’ in my fuckin house for a hit. You don’t realize it’s wrong until after. Then, about a year ago we sold the house. Moved to this little shack. Prices kept on climbin’. We had nothin’ left. Hadn’t had a hit in about a month. Only thing we had left was our lil girl. She had manas, like my pops. I woulda cut my arm off for another hit, but they wouldn’t have it. Told me to go to the navy people, they’d give me a good price for her.”
I sat in silence. The shell had begun to break.

“.. and then, y’know, we did it. We sold our fuckin daughter. For a hit of this shit. We got maybe a couple months left on our residency anyway. Maybe you fucks will kill us. Maybe we’ll go to the hells those fuckin’ Quentics keep talkin’ about. I hope so. I don’t deserve to see her again. “

“Now, you happy? I could blame you fucks, but maybe you’re right. Maybe we are all dumb addicts. Either way, I don’t fuckin’ care. It doesn’t matter anymore. Nothin’ does. Just.. just leave us alone.”

I was stunned. It might have been the first time in my life I didn’t know what to say. It scared me, more than any beast or strong mage. The idea that should I have been in the same circumstances, I might have done the same. Our people had rigorous lessons on how not to fall, but the yanii were not so lucky. My head was beating with pain, rage, sadness, and I could feel the manas in my blood flowing vigorously. Either way, I walked away from that scene with haste, and by the time I’d gotten back, the mette’stiroi was over. I never told anyone what I saw that day, but it didn’t make it possible to forget what happened.

I began to find myself troubled as I bound through this new world I found myself in. Perhaps because I had learned how to be a predator, I could spot others myself. And while I felt a duty to do as my nation needed, it began to sicken me to see such people lead others into depravity for the promise of a few coins. My mother’s words began to resonate in my head. Were we no better than the beasts we had sought to tame this way? Were we not guilty of moral quandary ourselves? The next two years did not go by easily. Any time I gazed from the towers of the school and looked out into the further huusoi temporary settlements and shanty towns, I felt my heartstrings being tugged upon. Sure, they were filth who would sell their own blood for a hit of a drug, but was that a result of the world we had created? How exactly was the other side of the coin? What were the nations of Constantia and Severa like? How did the people of ReTan live? And what was the news that had come from this magic school between the two powers? I’d heard tales of some ‘trials’ taking place, a number of our own participating. Supposedly the next chosen of Vyshta.

With more time, I came to understand why we did what we did. These coins were not simply pieces of metal. They were our lifeblood. Our weapon against a world that wanted to destroy us. I heard of the state of our Constantian brothers, and we were not possessed with the vast landscape our southern neighbors held. Money was everything and we used whatever methods necessary to survive. I also began to understand the state of our nation. The humans were dependent on us, the providers, but we were dependent on foreign outsiders to buy said goods from, and we were also dependent on the yanii to buy the things on the market. For if we lost our consumer base, we would simply be another island sitting out at sea waiting for some imperialist power to gobble us up. And with my heart hardened, I realized that our predatory nature, despite in some ways being morally dubious, was a necessity. It was justified. It had to be, right?

The thought of this school interested me though. There were substances that we paid a large amount for to middlemen. Brandaebbles, spratz, brandix, and the list went on. If we could stop being the middleman, and start being the providers we called ourselves, perhaps our chances of survival would be better. Constantia held all these devilish little addictions, and were I to bring them to our shores, perhaps I would earn the respect that our family so deserves. Perhaps the stain my uncle put on our name would be overwritten by my glorious accomplishments. And so, I went.


The nature of the island of Luuntiil means that many languages are spoken on the island, and as a result, members of the provider class have to be adept in spoken languages. His understanding of Avincean is seamless, as is his
Tarlonese Yasoi - Native, though Luuntese dialect is distinct from their southern brothers. It incorporates elements of Eskandish and is more notably similar to Constantian Yasoi.
Avincean - Fluent
Rettanese - Fluent
Nikanese - Fluent
Inipori - Fluent
Constantian Yasoi - Semi-fluent. He can speak and write with no problems but sounds a little old fashioned and would not blend in as a native.
Torragonese - Advanced
Belzaggic - Advanced written, intermediate spoken


{Character (RPG) Alignment}:???











❖ [ Arcane ] – [0. Neophyte ] - There's not much purpose for this school as present for him currently. He uses it very sparingly to slightly increase the heat of reactions, but until further precision is needed, he wont find himself studying it much.
❖ [ Binding ] – [ 2. Apprentice ] - To Cal'tuuro, binding was a necessity to learn. Not only for the synthesis of material, and building, but also for the matter of healing ailments and adjusting minute details.
❖ [ Chemical: Internal ] – [ 4. Journeyman ] - Cal’tuuro’s specialty. He’s an expert chemist, he knows what chemicals make people feel emotions, what doses are required, and how to use synthesize reactions to produce certain substances. It is his bread and butter.
❖ [ Kinetic ] – [ 0. Neophyte ] - Unlike most Yasoi, Cal is not swinging around trees or requiring a great amount of movement. Luuntiil is very urbanized and as such, he has never seen much reason to particularly specialize his knowledge in this school, though he'll get round to it eventually should he find a use.
❖ [ Magnetic ] – [ 1. Novice ] - Cal'tuuro employs this as a sort of tertiary specialization. A lot of chemical reactions rely on a slight electrical charge and his knowledge is known for this specialty.

❖ [ Atomic Magic ] – [ 0. Neophyte ] - He's capable of explosions. Big ones do not serve his interest in the slightest.
❖ [ Blood Magic ] – [ 0. Neophyte ] - To him, there is little difference between binding and blood magic, though he has not studied the offensive capabilities much. He may begin to learn more about the particularities should it peak his interest.
❖ [ Temporal Magic: ] – [ 2. Apprentice ] - When most think of this largely forbidden and unknown school, they think of it in the large scale. Grand acts of pausing time, and leaping across the world, resetting timelines and the like. And while Cal could eventually be capable of some of these feats, his specialization within this school is small, localized pauses in time. A chemical reaction that's been delayed for a second can produce vastly different results than standard. Slowing the speed of ingestion, or a small piece of matter, or increasing the speed of synthesis can all vary things massively. It's by far the school hes put the most work into, despite his better ability in Chemical simply because of the time investment required, though his blood ties and yasoi nature have definitely helped him advance quicker than most. That being said, he's also a decently capable teleporter.
❖ [ Dark Magic ] – [ 0. Neophyte ] - He's heard of the tarlonese employing it, but it seems to be a force far beyond his comprehension, and something he's quite frankly not interested in dealing with.
❖ [ Command ] – [ 0. Neophyte ] - Has heard rumours, and is honestly quite interested in it, but it seems to be something that is extremely closely guarded. Would he to gain access however, it would fascinate him so.
❖ [ ??? ] – [ 0. Neophyte ] - ???
{Special Abilities}: ???


{Wealth}: 500 Magus
{Pets & Hobbies}: None
{Inventory} Cal’tuuro did not bring much to Ersand’Enise. Most of his possessions are located at his home, and they mostly consist of various useless trinkets and treasures, but he does not like them being out of their place. He did however bring the only weapon that he owns.





Color = Cyan

“Life is so much more than where you were born”

Tku, being a bloodchild, is albino. However, you will rarely see his white skin. Spends a lot of time applying skin dyes and makeup to get him to something close to his family’s color but still, they would say he is light skinned. What he doesn’t hide are his violet eyes that contrast with his makeup, drawing people in for long conversations. He has always loved his eyes and would never hide them. His hair is naturally this whitish yellow but he embraces his cultural love of vibrant colors and dyes his hair regularly. Though he has chosen to stick with a dark blue/purple for his arrival, nothing too eye-catching for now.

He tends to dress quite simply when traveling, and only a few articles that are not important like trinkets from his travel along with a variety of accessories he has made from a variety of materials he has found, some appreciating the natural color of the material, others dyed in the most brilliant of colors.

His build is rather developed from his travels, not overly muscular but built enough to withstand the strain of travel with ease. He varies in weight but is coming to the school purposefully leaner to define his build. The last thing Tku would want would people to believe him to be overweight. He stands around 5’10, taller than the average man but hopefully not tall enough to gain suspicion.

Traveling for so long has given Tku some scars that he managed to keep under control. Burns are not too uncommon in his travels. At some point, he started to keep track of them and laugh about how and where he got them, though he prefers his souvenirs.


Tku is a wanderer and has traveled to more to many lands. He knows a few by heart and can get the job done in quite a few others.

He can speak Belgaggic fluently and knows a couple of dialects like his home nation of Obenja.
He is also fluent in Torganeese and Tarlonese Yasoi from his time traveling in those countries.
He speaks some Virangish and Iniporian but struggles with writing.
His time in Nikan taught him how to do basic conversation but the writing system alludes him. He can recognize a few characters and is interested in learning more due to the beauty he finds in them. The same can be said with Rettanesse but he spent more time in Nikan.
Avincian is something he found useful across the world for the most part. A handy language to have though he wouldn’t call his perfect by any means.

Although he may seem super knowledgeable about languages, his knowledge is inherently superficial. He needed to know enough to conversate and get through as he moved through. Language for him is but a tool to learn and talk to many others.



Tku had spent the majority of his time using kinetic magic and binding/blood during his travels. Sometimes he creates water for himself and others to drink. He is quite proficient in first aid and creating materials using Blood. He builds towers in places he has gone to, using the natural materials around him and highlighting the structure with unique materials from the places he has traveled. Sometimes these structures are functional by design but most are functional by happenstance.

He is quite gifted with deconstruction and reconstructing things and can heal minorly. Most of his fighting was kinetically enhanced use of a spear. Lots of running away.


Tku wasn’t long for the world on his first go about. He was born meager and underdeveloped. His parents knew he wouldn’t survive but they kept hope he may push past. However, fate did not favor him as he died of whooping cough. That would have been the end of his life if it hadn’t been for a Belzaggic noble that had been looking at their wares. She took pity on the Tku and resuscitated him, bringing him back from death.

After that Tku had a normal upbringing, with the exception of him being a blood child now and having a RAS higher than any of his family by a wide margin. His skin was pale and white compared to his family. His hair had lost its natural color and was brought to a yellowish white. His family’s hazel eyes were gone, leaving a brilliant violet. Children were cruel to those who were different and his family was accepting but had a hard time dealing with it as well. Tku knew well that they loved him but there was a gap between his family and him.

This ostracization pained him as a young child but he grew to accept the way life he was given, it was better than not living. With all the time he had to himself, he studied his family's trade. They were builders of many things and had to know many things to make the jaw dropping towers. He remembers sitting on his great grandfather lap, asking so many questions about their trade. His grandfather had traveled in the past and regaled the many things he had seen. “Life is so much more than where you were born.”

A fateful day came when the same noble that revived him as a newborn came back again. Tku was 6 at the time and wanted to show his gratitude to the noblewoman. He took 5 days to carve an intricate statue in her honor. The noblewoman was so impressed that she offered his family to take him to develop his school, sailing back during the harvest seasons to help with work. Tutors would be provided to hone his skills as a craftsman and Tku would create something of worth for her from time to time. Tku was nervous but with the confidence of his family, Tku left his home.

His grandfather came with Tku to be his caretaker and the boy's journey began. He spent 3 years studying and learning from various teachers and his grandfather. He traveled within the noblewoman’s land to find inspiration and learn about natural structure. The flora in the larger Belzaggic island in the North Severan Sea. It was forever fascinating for the young boy. Classes were challenging and stimulating but he wanted to explore the island more.

The Noblewoman did expect Tku to continue to make art for her but when Tku’s magic started to form, she had to give him some training to make sure he didn’t accidentally kill himself. Tku was eager to use his magic, absorbing materials and being able to recreate them. It was a true blessing. He could collect things and make them later. He loved doing it until he essentially injures himself and then he would stop for a day or 2 and do it all over again.

At 10 he produced a sculpture for the lady and she thought about selling it as it didn’t meet her wants. It sold quite well and the Noblewoman was excited for the week. From there he started getting some specific requests from the Noblewoman. He got paid a small amount for it but he was still being taught so he didn’t mind.

By the time he was 11 his great grandfather passed and he returned home for mourning. While he was there he felt the love of his family once again and they asked if he could stay. Tku didn’t want to though. He wanted to still learn and develop. And he had already learned everything from his great grandfather. So Tku boarded the ship and left.

Only to realize he was taken the wrong boat and ended up in Sakenga. Confused, Tku wandered the port and somehow got onto another wrong boat. This time to Joru. He was at first upset at his own ineptitude. But he had another thought as he looked towards the land of Joru. Maybe this was his time to wander? Maybe Tku getting on the wrong boat twice was a sign. And with that Tku went on a long journey.

Tku explored Joru for a while and made his way to Azjul. From Azjul to Zanegol. Took a boat from Zanegol to the major island Bozán. Another ship from Bozán to Kelawi for a week or 2 and then another ship to Joru to send a letter back home that he was alive and then he crossed into Torragon.

By the time he crossed into Torragon he was 14. He had gotten better in magic and could empower his body with kinetic to a small degree. It made travel so much more useful. Torragon was beautiful if not empty in places. This did not sit well with, “Why not just build something here?” So Tku started crafting structures out of sandstone and other buildable materials using blood and kinetic. If they collapsed who was to care, they were in the middle of nowhere. This habit left a trail to where small statues of people he met started appearing everywhere he went.

Then he perceived something truly beautiful. The sun had set on top of a barren rocky flat. It looked like it cradled the sun itself. Tku wept at the beauty of the world and decided to take his biggest build yet. A tower to Eshiran to mark the time of day and setting sun. Oranges and black materials were used to create a winding structure that exemplifies the beautiful sunset. He spent a whole year laboring away using his magic to the utmost. It was a simple use of magic but not a day went by when he didn’t get to bed exhausted and woke up sore. But it was all worth it. To see the beautiful structure. He left it there and moved on. He was 15.

The rest of the time was spent traveling in the Darhanic nations and then making it to Tarlon. The Darhanic people were splendid and had a magnificently colorful culture. He learned so much from visiting there. He wouldn’t build there as he felt it would be disrespectful with his skills and lack of knowledge. Just some small statues in the nowhere areas.

The Yasoi of Tarlon were unique if not somewhat hostile. Tku couldn’t blame them though as he was a traveler into their lands. Their architecture was inspiring and he learned a great deal from them. Some of the things he learned were not about architecture but that is for another story. But still, Tku remained there for maybe a year and a half before catching a boat to Nikan.

His explorations of Nikan were cut short as he met a map maker who just so happened to be a Zeno at the prestigious school of Ersand’Enise. After a drink and traveling with him, a surprising offer was put on the table for him to go to school. Tku was surprised but did not hesitate to take it. After all, when else would something like this come up?



Tku is motivated every day to create and learn. This opportunity to attend the Ersand’Enise is one that he was gifted and to waste it would be an insult. He wants to hone his craft and make the connections needed to explore the places he hasn’t been. He worries though that there are those that he one day grows so attached to that he couldn’t leave and continue to explore.


Tku has very little clothing as he can always make more. What you find are knick knacks from his travels, a book of stories that he has heard from time to time. A jewelry box filled with inexpensive pieces that he was given out of goodwill. A sack of different currencies that come out to 5 magus more or less. A mass produced spear that was made in Joru. Various beads of various materials

He carries on him a satchel full of small carving tools, various brushes, and dried pigments to be used for watercolor. An assortment of oiled paint that range in quality. Some charcoal. Tku carries many things. No weapons or anything too odd for an artist. 2 sketchbooks.








Hex code is 734960