For those who have Gold, the currency is as this. 100 copper = 10 silver = 1 gold. This will be gained through the roleplay at points of times and can be used to do many rewarding things, the standard starting amount for city dwelling characters is 100 silvers (the equivalent of 100 dollars) put inside Equipment.

Inactive characters will be used however fits the story, I may play them from time to time if neccessary. A week of inactivity from your last post will put a character on this list.

Name: "Graves"
Age: 27
Height: 5' 9"
Weight: 93 kilograms


Class: Vagabond - potentially path into Scientist or Rogue later
Race: Human

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Weapons & Equipment:

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Skills and Abilities:

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History:

Name: Sir Cicero Bladewalker
Age: 29
Height: 6'2
Weight: 190
Class: Knight
Class: Human
Weapons & Equipment: Steel tipped lance, steel longsword with crafted orange jewel on the hilt. Steel shield with family's crest on the front. Shortsword. Steel helm, greaves, breastplate (full set of armor). Warhorse named Merlin, complete with armor of his own. Traveling equipment; (ax, firestarter, provisions, waterskin etc.) Silvers 20, Sunset concoction.

Skills and Abilities: Trained in the way of the sword and shield by the head knights at the academy in Alvion. An expert at riding his trusty steed while engaging in combat, lance, sword etc. His shield is imbued with magic resistances handed down by his father before him.

Minor trait: Eye for Enchantment - he has experience with the subtleties of magic first hand and can better tell if he is affected by it.

Bio: Growing up in a well to do knight family of the city of Alvion, Cicero desired to be just like his father. Noble, chivalrous, and skilled in the art of the blade. He was enrolled in the knight academy there and excelled in his training over the years.

After, graduating he joined the Alvion guard, engaging in various skirmishes with enemy bandits and thieves. But it did not satisfy his longing for something truly adventurous. He was part of the guard from age 18-22.

At 22 Cicero bid his family farewell and travelled to the land of Roh. He had heard tale of the dangerous Demonfolk who pillaged the lands and wanted to help put a stop to it as well as gain some real combat experience. He was hired by the 6 women to join the human soldiers who did battle with the Demonfolk. Cicero slew many of them and also gained many scars over the next 7 years. He became aquianted with the veteran Manzur Iman. Former commander of a company within Roh's armed forces. He and Cicero took a liking to eachother. They taught one another various skills they aquired and styles of combat.

Over the years Cicero had become hardy and grizzled in combat. He lost many friends in the skirmishes and battles with the demonfolk. On one particular day they were patrolling a potential threat from a lead they had. It turned out to be a deadly ambush. With the use of a tonic his ally gave him as he lay dying, nicknamed thorian's revenge, Cicero was able to eliminate the attackers along with Manzur. The butcher still had many tricks up his sleeve. The two warriors stained the sands with the blood of countless demonfolk. We

When the nightmare was over, they were covered with scars and blood. It was at this time that Cicero decided his time in Roh more dangerous then he imagined. The loss of 15 good men cut him more than any blade ever could.

After the ambush, Cicero received a letter to join a tournament in his home land of Alvion. In all honesty, Cicero was only too ready to leave. He packed his things, said goodbye to Manzur and set sail for home.

Description: Cicero Bladewalker during his time in the land of Roh. He has broader shoulders, 5 o clock shadow, is 6'2 feet tall and weighs 190 pounds. He also has a few scars on his face, one cutting through his right eyebrow across his nose at a slant. The scar still remains. Another scar is along the left side of his face into his cheek. During the tournament Cicero a recieved grevious strike on his right arm. Olberion the Unbent broke it with a single strike on his shield. His mobility with it is not what it used to be.

Name: Gwyneira Elfreda
Age: 27
Height: 5'6"
Weight: 120 lbs
Class: Wizard
Race: Elf
Weapons & Equipment: A wand made of Ispar's natural timber, A steel rapier, embossed with silver, with a matching dagger, a good-quality bow with a quiver of arrows, Leather robes dyed dark blue with white trim, dark brown leather boots, a pouch containing a coin purse with 199 silver and 5 copper and a week's worth of provisions as well as her spellbook and her quill and ink, a waterskin
Skills and Abilities:
-Magic: Has a natural inclination for magic that allows her to be able to use any spells that she can learn about or figure out for herself through experimentation. But within that inclination, she has a natural affinity for light manipulation spells that make them easier for her to utilize and master.
Starting Spells (Ones that she has memorized. Others will be learned and recorded in her spellbook.):
- Illusions: Makes soundless illusions out of light
- Invisibility: Wraps light around her to make her invisible with the downside that she can't see anything while the spell lasts but has to rely on her other senses while people or animals that don't rely on sight can still find her
- Light: Creates a light to see by that she can make into a light flash bang to blind those around her
- Dim: Draws the light out of a surrounding area making it darker
- Heal: A mid-level all-round healing spell useful for both wounds and poison
- Fire: Lights a small fire which she can shape into a fireball and throw or simply use to light objects
- Ice: Shapes ice out of water or surrounding ice crystals
- Teleport: Teleports her up to 20 ft away from her initial position that she can see
-Literate: She can read and write in the common languages and some more obscure dialects.
-Amature fencer: She has some skill with the rapier, though not much. Primarily learned to keep her body fit and in case she ever needed it.
-Amature archer: Some skill with the bow. Learned so that she could hunt for her own food when needed or attack from range.

Permanent Boons:
Subtle Spell Identification: Has a better chance to identify subtly cast spells from experience (+1 perma bonus to rolls to identify subtle forms of magic.)

Bio: Born and raised in Ispar's capital city to an upper class couple, Gwyneira had the world at her fingertips. She was constantly curious about the technology around her and the whole concept of magic. Her curiosity lead to her becoming somewhat fixated with what she could discover, widening the already wide gap between her and her peers. It was when Gwyn was eight that she fully showed signs of being a magical prodigy and she was ecstatic. Her early manifestations allowed her to split light into the separate colors and dance with the colors trailing behind her. Her parents were also proud of their daughter's talent and arranged for the best tutors to help her harness and control it. Gwyn eagerly devoured all the learning that was available to her, causing her to rise rapidly above her peers and increase the gap more. That was a cause for concern for her father, but her mother was sure that Gwyn could make friends when she was ready. Gwyn never really cared either way. The lack of needed interaction with peers allowed her to get lost for hours practicing and experimenting with what she knew. When not doing that, she was reading new things about magic or what was known of the other provinces or any odd book of history and knowledge that caught her fancy. She wasn't able to spend every hour in that fashion though since her mother insisted that she look after herself and stay fit, leading to Gwyn picking up fencing and archery. There was also the time needed for her non-magical homework, which she still did well on but never enjoyed as much aside from history. As her years at the academy came to an end, Gwyn pondered if the school had really taught everything possible about magic. The academy had the complete knowledge of what was currently known by the leading wizards of Ispar, but other lands may have magics that Ispar wizards dismissed or clues to further facets of magical power. With that in mind as she graduated, Gwyn set out into the world to completely master magic, seeking for any spell types that might not have been covered at the academy or to discover her own.

Name: Dalious Durendail
Age: 38
Height:5'10"
Weight:165 lbs.
Class: Rogue/thief/pirate/swashbuckler/bard
Race: Human

Weapons & Equipment:
*Cutlass; worn on left hip.
*Crossbow; worn on back.
-Quiver (holds 12 bolts); hung low under right rear.
*Boarding axe; worn over back right shoulder.
*Throwing knives; attached to chest strap. (10)
*Lockpicks (3)
-Coin pouch (0), mystic healing potion(1), mystic blinding potion(1), flask, firestarter, waterskin; all attached to various pouches on his bandolier belt.
* mystic belongings stolen from biship isles.

Skills and Abilities:
Stealth. Usually works in the shadows. Has a quick slight of hand.

Navigation. Is never truly lost, but is lost all the time.

Endurance/Stamina/Agility. Spent years climbing and balancing from his ship, uses parkour over structures when in haste.

Fighter. Has been fighting his whole life, mainly wrestling and bare-knuckle boxing, with a mix of submissions and ground game in his arsenal. Has a mean left hook that has knocked out many small time crooks and bandits.

Magic. Not the kind everyone else has, he knows magic with a deck of cards and other small tricks.

Strengths: Sailing, thieving/pickpocketing, smuggling, sneaking, running/hiding, close combat (cheating if necessary), haggling and is a talented musician.

Flaws: Real magic, woman, alcohol, gold.

Personality: Narcissistic, egotistical, smooth, funny, can be charming, arrogant and hot headed.

Bio: Dalious is from the Knight Isles. His father was a gambling man and his mother was a whore. They were assassinated when he was real young, for business his father should have never gotten involved with. From there he grew up stealing and hiding, always coming back home to sell what he had taken. He had joined many different bandit groups throughout his early life, though the life of a pirate was never long so he adjusted as necessary to stay alive.

Many fights and deaths later, he found himself becoming captain to his own bunch of maniacs. They spent years looting and robbing up and down the many coasts and seas of the world. It was how he thought things would be forever, as he etched his legacy with everywhere they went. He was becoming famous and feared. However the more notorious Dalious became, the higher the bounty for his capture. So high in fact, his own crew sold him out.

Name: Manzur Iman
Age: 56
Height: 5'6
Weight: 125
Class: ???
Race: Human

Weapons & Equipment: Manzur Iman carries everything on him to survive. A tent, rope, firestarter, rations, work tools, canteen, pot, spoon, fort, and whatnot. For arms and armors, Manzur has a steel tipped-spear, a decently made wooden shield, an iron helmet, iron boots, and iron chainmail with thick gambeson underneath it all.

Skills and Abilities: The skillset of Manzur Iman is quite direct, if you will. The handling of a spear and shield is one of the most recognizable and easiest to understand for the man. The nuances of it are all known to Manzur - how to properly grip the shaft, use its reach as an advantage, employment of certain stabbing methods to which part of the body, blocking-ways, etc, etc. Likewise, Manzur is very comfortable with brutal close-quarters-combat. The battlefield is no place for fancy and flashy move sets. All it takes is plenty of grit and a straightforward mind.

When it comes to wearing heavy armor, Manzur is good at that too. How it feels to move and walk in it. How its weights on his body. How it affects his movement and whatnot.

Elsewhere, Manzur also contains a fair bit of tactical knowledge. How to properly maneuver formations on a battlefield. How to gauge the front-line formations and call for a rally, if need be. And the subtle details of battlefield communications between him, his subordinates, and formations. Of course, those skills do not apply to the strategy side of things - the actual macro-management of a military force and all of its fine details of military bureaucracy and logistics.

Lastly is carpentry and cooking - two life skills developed during his short-retirement. If you are looking for someone able to cook a decent meal and also make some acceptable woodwork then Manzur can fill that role.

Bio: The underbelly of Roh is home to many people, and one of those people was Manzur Iman - living amongst the downtrodden, poor, and homeless. Driven by the will to survive, Manzur took up many odd jobs and tasks for individuals superior to him in wealth and power. Be that shoveling, mining, rat-trapping, trash disposal, water-carrying, and plenty more - whatever it took to get a meal in that day. This routine, the constant dirty hard labor, and shifting of jobs changed little in its nature. Of course, there was also the occasional crime here and there as it seemed…appropriate by Manzur.

Reaching his late teens, Manzur had an interest in escaping his current conditions. Sadly, he never learned how to read or write, do rhetoric, and the many things required to pursue a decent station. And the constant tit-for-tat scuffles between territorial cliques…Well, let's say that dying in a dank and dark alleyway is not a good way to go. Likewise, dying on a battlefield did not conjure up good images either. But daily food and monthly payment was a good enough convincer for Manzur.

Signed into the armies of Roh, Manzur was rushed into an extremely short period of training before being given the barest of equipment. His job? Grind down the enemy to a pulp in brutal close-quarters-combat. A job with a questionable survival rate for most, and made worse by his dubious arms/armor given to him. With a combination of luck and skill (largely luck), Manzur withstood the hells of war as mere cannon fodder.

From camp to camp, battle to battle, stronghold to stronghold, Manzur marched alongside his brothers in arms - death constantly stalking each corner, to barely miss each opportunity to take away Manzur every time. Manzur had his work cut out for him - ever so slowly rising in notoriety and prestige. Albeit, such fame is not exactly tied to great heroism or anything equally as romanticized.

Given the command of a company, Manzur had the task of clearing out resistance in the Takiyah region and then hold Zafeera Pass. Manzur understood, from various scout reports, that a demon folk army was fast approaching the pass to reinforce those in the Takiyah region. Theorizing, Manzur guessed that if reinforced then the rear-supply lines would be threatened and the main Royal Army ahead entrapped.

In order to not waste time and men, Manzur had no plan to take prisoners or loot. The command was simple - Kill everyone and burn anything. Spare absolutely no one. And just like that, Manzur led his forces in and butchered anyone or thing in his path - supply depots burned, villages destroyed, corpses everywhere. Morally evil, yes. But it did allow Manzur to quickly make way to Zafeera Pass before the demon folk reinforcements came.

Once in Zafeera Pass, Manzur held the path like a stonewall - utilizing the narrow nature of Zafeera to ensure his forces could not be overwhelmed. Brutal melee claimed the lives of many but the demon folk never managed to push out Manzur. In the end, the Zafeera Pass was littered with plenty more corpses. For his part, Manzur was noted to be quite vicious in his kills - a stab to the throat, a slash across the stomach, and other bloody impales.

The victory was gained and rumors quickly gave Manzur a new title - the Butcher of Takiyah and Zafeera. The man who slaughtered all in his way without remorse. A title that Manzur would not really come to enjoy but did use greatly to his advantage. At the end of his three-decade-long service, Manzur retired from his position. Manzur settled down for a good few years before being forced to become a mercenary after a political debacle caused him to have his savings taken away.

It was during his time as a mercenary that Manzur met Cicero Bladewalker. Both men quickly make good company over the years as they went about hunting down demon folk banditry. Things came to an end after a particularly unfortunate ambush in an attempted assassination on Manzur and whoever was with him. An act of revenge against the Butcher and Cicero. Sadly for the demon folk, their plot was cut short. The aftermath only left Manzur and Cicero alive.

Returning to the Royal City, Cicero left home back to Alvion while Manzur continue his merc-work as a grizzled veteran. A new reputation came to Manzur - a title evolution due to his constant bloodshed. The Butcher of Bloodied Sands - a monster of untold brutality as the rumors goes.

Name: Ashevelen "Ashe" Ben'Ghazad

Age: 26

Height: 1.8

Weight: 58kg

Class: Luck Mage/Warrior

Race:Demonfolk

Weapons & Equipment: (details but fairly brief) Short sleeved leather armour that covers her body but leaves the skin below the elbow uncovered, a longsword , a small dagger, a hood & mask which covers her head/face fully, a pair of D12 dice, playing cards and a necklace in the form of the letter “L”.

Skills and Abilities: Martial skills - Ashe is an adept sword fighter having been trained as a mercenary by her adoptive parents. She is also known to be good at throwing small knives and is an expert at sleight of hand tricks.
Passive Ability: Lucky gambler: Ashe has a passive ability that increases her chances of throwing high dice/playing good cards in luck games. While it doesn’t influence her skills when using the dice to cast magic, it helps to keep her finances up.

She perhaps uses one of the weirder and unpredictable sides of magic which is why she doesn’t rely on it most of the time. If Ashe concentrates for a period of time and rolls her dice she can be imbued with different effects or resistances. What effects/resistances depends on the dice roll, if it’s a high roll it can be a very good effect/resistance while a low roll will damper her abilities and can occasionally even injure her.

If she chooses to fully concentrate on a certain effect and the roll is high enough, she will get said effect with little to no cost to her. Spells that would take weeks to prepare could be done in minutes but it all depends on her luck. For example, if a “Detect Traps” spell is required, she can think of the spell and what it’s supposed to do and then roll the dice. A high roll will ensure that the spell is cast, a neutral roll will have no effect while a low roll can work the other way around and hide the traps in the close area or trigger them all.

She can only use her dice to cast spells twice a day.

Bio: Once upon a time there was a small baby left to die at the entrance of a brothel on the Isles of Bishop & Knight. Luck happened to her as the madam of the brothel was pregnant when she found Ashe crying for food or warmth. Unfortunately, the babe was born stillborn, leaving the madam to fully focus on Ashe as her baby.

Her childhood was spent learning the non-sexual ways of the brothel, serving food, talking with clients, occasionally stealing a coin or two from them and learning the different games at which the clients would lose their money on. Ashe had everything she could ask for as a kid, food, shelter and with the help of the madame, she learned how to read and write in the hopes that one day she would take over.
When she was 14 years old, Ashe started training with the bouncers and thugs that protected the brothel in the use of short swords, clubs and knives. It didn’t stop until, finally, her luck ran out.

At the age of 17, the madam was stabbed to death as she didn’t want to sell the brothel to a new criminal leader in the area and the brothel was under new management since then. Ashe, of course, planned his death and ways to do it but seeing as the leader had influence and power, not to say a lot of guards…her plans had to be put to a stop. She fled the port she grew in as soon the leader discovered her identity and put a price on her head in order to stop any future attempts on his life.

Ashe fled to the mysterious Bishop islands where the sane would go mad and the insane rule knowing well that no one would expect her to be somewhere so close to home. Her plan was clear: flee to the Bishop Isles, learn magic and kill the criminal leader from afar. While the logic was sound, Ashe didn’t plan for her lack of money or knowledge of where she could find someone to teach her magic.

Months turned to years as she used her pickpocketing skills and occasional luck to get enough money to survive. Her search was never over, going from tavern to tavern and trying to persuade the different mystics to teach her. Eventually, she heard a rumour of a group of extraordinary mystics which could do anything they wanted. Of course, she knew this is who she should seek.

Another year passed in her search for these mystics and then she found them. A group of travelling gamblers, hookers and thieves. She explained who she was looking for and was met with confusion. They didn’t know what she was talking about but invited her to share food with them while she explained better what she needed. Ashe was confused and thought that once more the rumour was just that, a rumour…until one of the group pulled a dice and rolled a high number and soon food appeared as if by magic.

Realisation dawned on her face as she understood what type of magic, if one can call it like that, these people were employing. Luck magic. After beating one of them at a card game, they agreed on teaching her their skills.

By the age of 24, Ashe was finally confident in her skills with the dice and she was ready to return home. Fate didn’t have it that way. A twist of bad luck, had herself and the group attacked by bandits and kidnapped by bandits.

She was kept in a cage, blindfolded for the better part of next month as the bandits took turns on her. With no knowledge of her location or if anyone else survived the attack, it was certain that her life would eventually end as a slave.

Eventually, the bandits were killed by someone and she was freed. While the whole ordeal was hard on her, it taught her something very important. She was still a weak fighter and luck isn’t always on her side. Determined to gather more power in order to return home and take what should’ve been hers, she sold her services as a guard to various caravans or when there was no work, gambled.

Name: Fyr Harnann
Age: 30
Height: 6'5"
Weight: 285 lbs
Race: Human

Weapons & Equipment:

• A rather large, one-handed axe that is a family heirloom. It has been forged with woodwork in mind and has several runes etched into it.
• Round shield made out of solid Frostwood itself and reinforced with some metal linings at vital points such as the center or the rim.
• Traveling clothes: They are meant to suit several climate zones by means of taking on and off different pieces. TTere are his cloth pants with fur padded inside and a shirt of the same making for standard conditions. In the cold, he can make his shoulders look twice as broad as they already are just by wrapping himself in another, much thicker layer of fur that probably has been a large bear once. And the searing heat of the desert ? Well, he still has his bare skin...
• Large waterskin
• Various small pouches filled with some medicinal herbs and cloth to treat wounds, dried meat and a few silver coins.

Skills:
Wild beasts, timber and rocks do not carry swords, so Fyr has never learned to use weapons himself in a manner specialized against other people. As primitive and worthy of improvement as his 'style' might appear however, years of harsh environmental circumstances, labor and natural inclination from birth have forged him into an intimidating individual who can put a lot of sheer strength and momentum behind whatever move he wants to make -- even if it's not a particularly fast one.

Fyr has been used to live in close contact with the wild nature around him since he's been a young boy. If he can treat wounds of animals, he can also try and treat people's wounds. These Southerners might not have the many mysterious caverns or Frostwoods, but trying to tame or just take over a horse or camel, or maybe to make that venomous scorpion not sting you, or discerning edible plants from the lethal ones, can be just as useful. Reading tracks might give a hint about where to go or not to go as well.


Magic:
The runes on his axe are not just decoration, but are actually a piece of dwarven craftmanship that can act as a catalyst for the wielder to more effectively tap into his or her own body's reserves: Strike harder, run faster, feel less pain and be as relentless to yourself as you are to your environment -- just in case you find yourself lost in a snowstorm, surprised by a wild beast whose cavern you deemed to be a safe shelter for the night or are just confronted with too high a workload. Fyr has not yet mastered the art to the fullest extent however.


Personality:
In spite of his quite intimidating appearance, Fyr can very much be around other people without escalating things into a brawl. He is not fond of killing or even just hurting people, that's not the way he has grown up and was socialized. Comradeship has been an important element of his survival so far, but his very recent experiences with people who, in reality, were slavers who set him up, might have made him a lot more careful for the moment when it comes to gathering new friends. That also points to a more general issue: He is unfamiliar with the environment he currently lives in as gaining knowledge about that has been the whole point of his journey in the first place.

Behind all that brawn there is also brain, but his mind is a not so experienced one. Even though he certainly has the necesssary intelligence, becoming a scientist or even just a moderately good chess player would still be a steep learning curve.

When Fyr's not busy working out in order to keep in shape or doing other things, he can endulge himself in food and drink very much. It will spell disaster on his or his sponsor's coin purse though.


Biography:
Fyr was born in Arnsk, a relatively small settlement in the Ispar mountains that, even by the nation's standards, is in a rather isolated position in terms of geography. Advanced cities where all beings live together in comfort ? Not there. It is bitterly cold for most of the year, no less snowy and the main source of income are the large Frostwood trees and local silver deposits unterground.

These two are professions that, given the circumstances, neither men nor dwarves would be capable of pursuing and living off for long were it not for the sturdy beasts of the region to assist them. Fyr was a caretaker, one of the villagers responsible to tame, train, feed and inspect the more or less large animals that serve as Arnsk's food and additional workforce. The first lession ? Trying not to be eaten. By far not all of them are harmless mammals, some are even used in the town's guard once sufficiently pacified.

Fyr started picking up experience in that matter early on and found his work highly preferable to monotonously hacking away at timber or going underground with those grumpy dwarves -- not that he hadn't to do a lot of that from time to time as well. What he didn't learn there though was which end of the sword was the one to go in his hand and which one to go into his opponent's guts. Arnsk was just remote enough of a location not to have that many opponents in the first place, at least not of the visible kind. His father, one of the foremen in the silver mine, died of a mysterious desease that had been plaguing many of those down there ever since. Fyr was 28 at this point.

Stuck in subsequent melancholy, he thought that now would be a point in time better suited than any else to fulfill the needs of a long-standing tradition in the Harnann family: At least once in a life, every family member should go on some sort of journey that would take him or her far outside the limited bounds of Arnsk, preferably even across Ispar's borders themselves. The idea behind that tradition was founded in the rather open society of the province: see other landscapes, other people, other cultures and push the horizon of your own mind beyond the limits imposed by the snowy mountains and deep forests at home. For Fyr, it seemed to be the perfect attempt to overcome his grief.

What he actually found further South was something very different though. He doesn't like the heat, but even more he dislikes the fact that his naivity and unfamiliarity have made him such an easy prey for slavers to catch. He doesn't even really know where he is right now, but he certainly wants to leave even if that would require a lot of assistance.

Name: Lapis Dustwalker
Age: 30
Height: 5’6
Weight: 140
Class: Merchant, Nomad
Race: Human

Name: Novice Arthur Travers

(Imagine a sword instead of the lightsaber, no armor on the legs, and obviously no droid companion)
Age: 23
Height: 6'4"
Weight: 205 lbs
Class: Paladin
Race: Human
Weapons & Equipment:
A simple longsword with a red ruby in the hilt
A prayer book with the signal of his Templar Order, a Teutonic Cross
The Dark Mage's Journal
Brown Robes of good quality
A steel, unadorned breastplate
A dagger
A waterskin
Skills and Abilities:
Literate: Can read common and some ancient dialects
Knowledge of Religion: Knows his own religion as well as others around the world.
Knowledge of History: Knows various aspects of history, especially as it applies to his homeland of Alvion
Combat Training: Can use different weapons, but is most proficient with swords and/or shields
First Aid Training: Can use first aid alongside his healing powers.
Basic Survival Training: Knows the basics of how to survive on his own and so is able to do basic cooking, mending, washing, weapon care, fire-making, fishing, gathering, and hunting.
Divine Magic: Has some access to magic due to his novice vows. Can gain some more mastery in them over time, but needs to join the order fully to truly grow.
Healing: Allows him to heal a target. The more energy he applies to the wound, the more he can heal at the cost of having less to spare until the next time he can rest.
Purify: Can cleanse food and drink of poison and decay (rot, mold, etc.).
Protection: When given time to prepare, he can give a person a forcefield that will protect them from three hits.

Bio: Born to a lesser known noble family of Alvion, Arthur grew up desiring to serve God and to be a knight. His time as a page aided him along the journey to knighthood, but he found himself called elsewhere. He found himself drawn more and more to the Order of the Templers, a religious order of knightly monks who vowed to serve God, their country, and their fellow man while also taking the vows of poverty, chastity, and obedience. At the age of sixteen then, he started as a novice, spending the last years continuing to learn from the older brethren and to discern fully if this is the right path for him before he becomes a full-fledged member of the order. So far though, his resolution to take his final vows has never wavered. And so he comes upon his last test, undergoing a quest that will test him against the outside world. It is for this quest that he ended up in Roh and meeting Lapis, and it is in this quest that he means to never falter.

Name: Nylah Aldaos

Age: 26

Height: 5'5

Weight: 125

Class: Mercenary

Race: Wood Elf

Weapons & Equipment:
Weapons: Bow & arrows which she can infuse with light magic (limited by her low skill in magic), two hidden dirk daggers (typically strapped to the inside of her thigh highs), an assortment of lethal poisons.
Satchel: Holds her lethal poisons, a variety of herbs chosen for their specific medicinal and some lethal qualities, bandages, waterskin, golden locket necklace, 57 Silver and 5 gold.

Skills and Abilities: Nylah is a high level archer, rarely missing her mark. She is proficient in stealth, hand-to-hand combat (though she prefers to avoid it) and can be extremely charismatic. She can use very few light spells, but is not skilled in the art and usually only dabbles with it when she needs the extra punch in her arrow shots (the use of magic often shows itself in intricate golden design on her skin).

Bio: The only home Nylah can remember is a damp, cold shack in the middle of the lovely Knight Islands Port towns, raised by a gruff bastard of a man called Terk. He was tough, as Dwarf's typically are, and would often tell her that she ought to be grateful towards him. According to Terk, Nylah had been abandoned in the middle of the frostwood forest of Ispar when she was only four years old. Of course Nylah had no memory of that, so she took his word for it. Terk would go on to take Nylah home with him, though not out of the kindness of his heart. He had no desire to care for a needy child the rest of her miserable life, he had other plans. When Nylah was of age, 8 years old to be precise, Terk could cash in and sign her up for a life of mercenary work. Young ones donated to the "school" could bring in at least 100 gold if not more. Nylah would never know what Terk received for her, but after he handed her over to the training program that was the last she ever saw of the old dwarf.

The school was very obviously illegal, especially to work children to the bone as they did, but no one in the Knight Islands seemed to care. They were all criminals of some sort, so it seemed. The children were just working to fit in. To survive there, really.

Nylah would prove to be one of their top trainee's, showing her skill with a bow and arrow very early on. They honed in on this skill and over the years would mold her into a killer. Someone who could take an assassination contract and not bat an eyelash, as long as they got paid. At first they would send you out on simple things; steal a couple jewels, threaten a noble family, get some information out of people. The school would benefit 100% of the profit from these contracts. Eventually, at age 16 for Nylah, they would send her out on her own and expect her to find her own contracts. To bring in the big money for them, which meant find someone who wanted someone else "eliminated". She did it, and she gave the school 50% of the profits for the next 5 years of being on her own. After that they trusted her enough to take less of a cut, knowing she was a reliable source of income. She learned from other examples that if you didn't bring in the money, or tried to separate yourself from them, you'd be met with a cold steel blade against your throat in the middle of the night.

Today, she continues to take contracts and travel across the world. She has grown to enjoy her work, despite every so often when whats left of her conscience reminds her of how many lives she's ended whether they were corrupted or not.