Amheurst, The Broken Knight A young knight leans against a boulder, his brow heavy with sorrow. The knights armor is sparse, a verdigris marred spaulder, a single gauntlet on his sword arm and old rusty greaves. In his arms he cradles a broken longsword, broken clean off about half-way down the blade. It may have once been a fine weapon indeed.
Amheursts' father was Sir Bran, Lord of Guilliam Keep.
Bosham Gar, Troubador & Actor A thin haired aging man cloaked in shaggy clothes paces in agitation. He clutches a mask with 3 faces. It appears to be crafted from a precious metal. The three faces reflect joy, anger and insanity.
Pelinora, Priestess of Kant A very beautiful woman with a stern expression on her face crouches over a small circle of pebbles. She is incanting a spell and gesturing with her hands. She is cloaked in the deep green robes of the God Kant, The Weary Watcher. Her eyes grow wide as a fire erupts from her palms, creating a small blue-flamed fire. She sits down and begins warming her hands over the eldritch fire.
Appearance: A squat, 4ft girl that appears to be quite young. She's got the Innsmouth look, with her eyes being set too far apart, her mouth being a little too wide, her skin clammy and grey, and her long black hair matted and unkempt. Her fingers and toes are slightly webbed. She wears an old, faded, dirty dress that's nearly been worn to ribbons. Over top of it she wears what looks like armor made of woven reeds. This armor includes a chest piece, arm guards that extend from her elbows and stop just before her fingers and leggings that likewise start just under her knees and extend to right before her toes. She has a large conical hat, also made of reeds, that she uses to obscure her face.
Inventory: A fife, carved out of a greenish wood. A small knife, for carving said fife.
Special Abilities:
Ignore Terrain (Wet): Mud and muck do not impede Gish's ability to move. She could walk through quicksand and it would have absolutely no effect. In fact, she gets faster when wading through even a small body of water.
Swimmer: In the water Gish is greased lightning. While on land her movements can be clumsy and uncoordinated in the water she's more graceful than any fish, being able to control her direction and reach great speeds in a way that should be impossible. She can somehow propel herself with enough force to leap three times her height.
In addition to these obviously supernatural traits she's also a good wittler, can fish, weave her own clothes, play the fife, and knows the sound of a language her mother called Deep though she's unable to comprehend or speak it herself.
Personality: Ruled by a cautious curiosity, only knowing of most of the world through stories. Deeply religious and chalks thing up to providence. Starting to doubt her gods after a run in with the Mindskitter, though still firmly believes in fate and destiny. Talks a lot when excited or as a defence mechanism. Enjoys speaking and listening to other people speak. Her time in the swamp living with someone she trusted implicitly have left her with a complete inability to lie or hide her emotions.
History: Raised in an inland swamp by her mother. Never knew her father. Mother eventually went into the water and never came back, leaving her to fend for herself. Doesn't know how long ago that was, but it is much longer ago than she figures. She haunts a local town on the edge of the swamp, skulking under windowsills and in attics at night watching and listening to people. Has become something of a local legend.
Other: -Fascinated by fairy tales and fantastic stories. -Gets headaches whenever she tries to think too much about certain topics. -Gish is not her real name. Her mother named her in Deep and she's unable to pronounce either her own name, her mother's, or her god's. Gish is sort of a contraction of what she's heard the people in town call her. She picked Gish because it was either that of Firl and she thought the former sounded better.
This is basically what he looks like. He has a few mutations where he now only has two fingers and a thumb on each hand and he only has two toes. His flesh appears to be greyish, but he is covered in a type of white-ish armor. He can only see between the joints where the armor separates. The armor doesn't come off and doesn't restrict his movements or flexibility. He also has glowing eyes and is mute. Race; Human Height; 6'2 Weight; 197lbs
History; Not much is remembered, just that he has been wandering the halls in an attempt to map them. He has guided several through the halls, not always reaching the desired destination, but a satisfactory one instead. Perhaps trying to map Endless Halls has driven him into a form of madness.
Personality; Rather kind and bold, but a little cautious still.
Abilities; All he can do for now is summon a white whisp. It runs away and dissipates if he doesn't keep it in his lantern. Heightened senses and strength.
He can leave temporary lines of light anywhere.
Inventory; A lantern, a mask with three eyes and a door.
Name: Fazra Race: Orc Appearance: Towering over most human women(and some orc ones) at 6'4, Fazra is heavily built. In her youth she was all muscle, and though she's put on some weight as she's left her twenties, she is still built strongly, love handles or no. She is of a subterranean species of Orc, boasting pale gray skin and larger ears for sharper hearing. Her face is still mostly young, though a scar on her lip and a bent nose indicate the hardship of her past life. Her hair is thick, black and course, and she wears it shaved on one side, and the other braided and tied back from her face. She dresses in a studded leather skirt over chainmail with a ragged edge. Her chest is guarded by a thick steel plate, roughly formed but strong. Her right arm is bare all the way up to the shoulder, and her left has a chainmail sleeve that extends to just above her elbow tight against her thick biceps, and a pauldron for her shoulder. Her left hand is gauntleted with thick steel, a buckler built in.
Inventory: An ancient war hammer, one side of the head is flat, the other a sharpened pick. Though Fazra has never seen a horse, this weapon was originally used by human cavalry. She can swing it with one hand or both.
Personality: To be revealed in game.
History: Fazra comes from a clan of Orcs that used to dominate the Bright Road, so called for the gas powered lights that were originally placed at intervals. The gnomes that put them there aren't around to maintain them anymore, and only a few work anymore. Fazra's clan was notorious for ambushing travelers who stopped to camp under the surreal glow of one of the few remaining lights. The clan was strong and well supplied enough to maintain dominance, but people became wary of the road, pickings became slim. By Fazra's time, the clan was desperate, and as they over reached into more populated areas of the Endless Halls, they drew the ire of better prepared groups.
A vanguard of knights tore through them, leaving few enough alive. Though Fazra was considered an adult among her clan at 14, the knights saw her as a child, and took her in instead of killing her. Though they had killed her family, her culture respected strength, and she was more than glad to be on the winning side.
Personality: A quite intellectual being, really, with the ability to make very educated decisions, even devilishly clever ones, for such a horrid beast of it's caliber. Usually behaves mildly, though, unless extremely perturbed.
History: The feeder of knowledge, it is an aberration that has been detailed from nearly the beginning of written surfaces. It is famous for it's peculiar habit of following those of the Infinite halls, especially whom are new inhabitants, constantly and indefinitely. It craves, even feeds off, knowledge and travels onward and onward through the infinite halls to find hosts capable of providing it's most thoughtful sustenance. Due to it's frightening rarity, perhaps even the last of it's kind, many do not harm the utterly unique creature.
Other: The Mindskitter does not require food, sleep, drink, or air to survive, but only a constant stream of knowledge. If not provided with such within a 120 hour period, it will suddenly go into a dormant, hibernation state that it can only be woken up from with the introduction of tantalizing information (the reading of a chapter or two will do). It can be killed through physical (and even magical) means, but not psychic, pyschological, or charm-based ones. It's singular mode of self-transportation is it's innate ability to drift/float it's body mass off the ground at a moderate pace.
Special Abilities: Knowledge Consumption: Whilst consuming the knowledge of an indivual, the Mindskitter must maintain attachment (called a "mental sync") of one of it's bodily or 'phantom' tendrils to the indivual. The manifestation of 'phantom tendrils' are mental, but become physical and physically manipulable upon creation. The Mindskitter experiences pain if such tentacles are harmed. The phantom tendrils can extend much farther then the beast's bodily tendrils. Upon feeding, the host merely feels a slight, pleasing, tingling sensation at the back of their neck, near the brainstem. Knowledge consumed goes into the Mindskitter's "plane of psyche", which is detailed by a few rare philosophers to be an infinite extension of the beast's cerebral. The Mindskitter is instantly pleased differently depending on the knowledge's origin and potency, as if it were actually eating (a knight's secret oath tastes as a royal banquet, a lover's secret wish; rich cake). Such consumption can cause amnesia, but only at the abomination's discretion.
Communication; If impressed by the knowledge it consumes from one or another indivual, the Mindskitter has been legendarily theorized to be able to open it's indescribable plane of psyche up to most characters in order to communicate with them through a method of telepathy. Such plane can be closed at anytime. The Mindskitter can also communicate with a person while they are sleeping by interrupting any dreams they may have been having.
To the south, the province of Lynore was home to schemes most foul. Ideas cooked up to create life rather than simply control it led to a partnership between a druid and alchemist. Their intention was to harness the strengths of the wild and tame them through combination as to make profit off of anyone who would pay for their creations. Bear-shark-humanoids, snake-dogs, and what would later become Luciel was a shift in direction from simply making monstrosities to appealing the everchanging tastes of humanity. Luciel is one of about 60 such creations intended as servants, the exotic features of otherwise docile creatures serving to doll up what was essentially a small human. Ears and the tail of a rabbit, antlers of a deer and the eyes and fangs of a cat, this variant became popular in the region and were kept by nobles as pets, servants...and such.
Luciel appears around 14ish for his relatively short stature of nearly 4'9. He was personally tailored for the duke's son and carries wavy pink, shoulder-length hair from which matching bunny ears poke out from. Their left ear holds three small silver studs, linked together by a fine chain. Sports two antlers, each with three points. Ruby red eyes cut with cat-like pupils. Luciel could be described as beautiful in an androgynous way; a lithe slim frame and a porcelain pale doll-like complexion from being confined indoors for most of his life. This is marred by a darkness under his eyes from nights spent laying awake and lingering bruises of various forms, hidden under his clothes from treatment which only ended roughly two or three days prior.
Observably (at least at the start of the thread), Luciel is shrouded in a large section of tapestry likely stolen from the manor of his previous master and wrapped around his figure to obscure all but the shadow of a nose poking out from how he bundled it all like a cloak. The material is tattered and torn in places from a very inconvenient walk through bushes and brush.
Underneath this is his 'servant' attire consisting of a short sleeved white buttoned down shirt under a black vest. Snug black shorts adorned with a long chain wrapping around his waist with slack hints to a pocketwatch, likely stolen. Knee-high boots (3 inch flat-soled heels) with black mid-thigh stockings fixed with garters running up his shorts.
Not his first choice of attire, it lends the question of what his purpose was.
Inventory: A simple pocketwatch, a simple shortsword pillaged from a dead sailor as well as a light crossbow. Two ornate rings too big for him to wear...likely stolen. A keyring holding various pieces of slim metal beaten into the shape of a makeshift lockpick set. Two flasks found at the scene of the wreck which Luciel assumed was water until getting his first taste, their contents seem to serve well for aiding in starting fires, though (sailors' rum).
Enhanced senses - The splice of cat-like eyes gives Luciel superb vision in most lighting scenarios. However, pitch black is still pitch black. His ears allow even a very weak form of echolocation due to their discerning sensitivity (However, this makes him susceptible to sonic damage)
Lockpicking - Leading up to his escape, Luciel had plenty of practice in picking locks to undo his binds. However, magical locks are beyond his expertise.
Natural Weapons - Animalistic by a latent primal nature; though his fangs may be small, determination and their sharpness make a bite from Luciel a suitable deterrent in a pinch. Alternatively, the points of his antlers are whittled sharp.
Through his pact with the abyssal entity which he refers to as "O'Distant Fish", Luciel has an affinity for illusion and ice magic.
Examples of illusions usually work in the way of camouflage which is especially effective in the shadows which he can almost seamlessly blend into if not moving. As for ice, his strength lies in distractions. Chilling moisture in the air, Luciel can summon small clouds of chilled moisture to distract or temporarily blind those it consumes with the exception of himself. This is mostly to buy time for a precision strike from conventional weapons or to obscure his movement.
Most variations of these spells require verbal and somatic commands to conjure. Being bound hinders their effectiveness while being silenced in any way prevents spellcasting.
Personality: Luciel is soft spoken and often comes off as timid, though he has developed a nasty habit of 'fear biting'. He is inexperienced with the world and is often seen as naive or even foolish, though has enough street smarts and common sense to avoid dangerous situations if possible. Repeated abuse has worn down any love he would have towards humans as well as inherent disposition, leaving him almost seeming 'hollow' at times. Outside of this, Luciel is excitable and eccentric when expressing emotions. Curious of this new world outside of servitude, he has a distinct fascination with the accumulation of knowledge and an abstract method of defining experiences and that which he witnesses in an almost poetic way.
Speaking ill of the dead is not my intention, as they are gone and cannot hear my words no matter how loud I scream. Existence came as suddenly as one would wake from sleep, and all I knew since then has been one nightmare after the other. It begins with a monster of a man and his monster of a son and ends with both of them dead for their vileness. There would have likely been more, but I was smart enough to know when it was time to leave. I had spent maybe a day on the run before coming across the perfect place to rest. Unbeknownst to me, the crate of linins was bound to be transferred by boat to destinations unknown to me. Wherever it was, the ship would not reach it as the force of a storm toppled the craft. To this day, I'm not entirely certain how I survived. I dreamt of a creature within the darkness of the waves who came to my aid, massive as the shore as black as night. Though it did not speak, we came to an understanding that my mortality was left to its mercy and that it had no interest in my soul at that moment. Though I did not hear it speak, I knew words which it etched into my mind; formless syllables and cryptic verses whose very recollection brought power through even the vaguest attempts to pronounce them. ...Existence returned to me as suddenly as one would wake from sleep, dashed upon the shore with the corpses of sailors and passengers as well as their cargo. Quickly collecting what I could, I fled from the shore with no direction or plan.
I was free, whatever that meant. It didn't take long to find a suitably large cave which I intended to take shelter in while endeavoring to collect myself for what was now where my new life began.
Other - Given the region which he learned to speak in, Luciel carries a bit of an accent vhich I vill be inflictink upon readers. On top of this, his linguistics are shoddy at times and the prose with which he speaks is often either over formalized or abstract like internal musings, a testament to the depth of his mistreatment. - Opposed to the nature of the entity he made a pact with, Luciel is a less than impressive swimmer. If anything, he has a bit of hydrophobia for any amount of water more than waist deep.
Name: Mathias Godfrey Race: Human Appearance: Aged at thirty-two, Mathias stands at six feet tall, he is muscular, broad shouldered and built for war. It is clear from a body covered in scars that he has led a warrior's life. His hair is brown and he has a bushy beard, well trimmed with hair shorn short on his head. His eyes are a brilliant blue. Mathias' standard attire is a blue tunic and brown trousers with well-fitted boots. He always has his sword at his side regardless of situation. The stance this veteran bears is always stoic and filled with confidence.
History: Mathias was raised to a good and idyllic family. In fact he regards them with great honor and passion. They truly were the reason for his honorable disposition and his desire for good. They taught him well and to always pursue righteousness. His childhood was a memorable time of fun, happiness and true learning. Trials did however come to House Godfrey and they were sore indeed.
Of the times Mathias will personally speak of these are the hardest to express, but bold and persevering nonetheless he is willing to share. House Godfrey's adults and elders were nearly all wiped out by what he recounts as the "Poison Feast". His family was powerful, influential and their land loved having them as their noble house. They were however in the way of prominent enemies, rival houses, barbarians knocking on the borders. Enemies aren't hard to come by in these lands. The poison was designed to be slower but absolutely lethal. As a youth he was not to be part of that feast but that didn't stop him from witnessing his family's painful exodus from life.
Relatives took him in. He began training with the sword and to lead on behalf of the remaining Godfrey's. Mathias took to action with drive. His passion to move forward is one of his marking traits. As he came of age he learned why his father hated politics(dealing with other bickering vassals and houses in a kingdom isn't that much fun). Mathias used his strength and passion to help everyone around him. He was a true paragon. He performed in his maiden battle, a first of his career and though daunting he shined through it.
He married a childhood friend, Alana. Together they had a child and everything seemed peaceful and well( Yep, perfectly well. Uhuh).
Magic. It never plays fair. Mathias had his first encounter with the eldritch in one fateful encounter that would change everything. Being both warrior and generous paragon is a challenge but dealing with a witch's death curse makes things truly complicated. The barbaric horde he defended his people's lands against made use of a particularly cruel advisor. A witch by the name of Velka struck him with a curse even as Mathias pierced her with his blade.
"Forever, thou son of Godfrey, shall you suffer for your generosity." She gurgled on her blood as she finished. "For every heart you lift yours shall be pierced!" This wasn't some simple line or phrase. The dying curse of a magic-wielder was dangerous and this one he learned he could not remove.
It pained him, really, physically pained him to aid another person. Magic-induced suffering instead of having his spirit lifted. Those were the consequences of aiding his fellow. Afraid of what could happen to himself and worse, his family, he had to leave. There was no other choice. He needed to explore. Mathias needed to find a way to remove the curse. He needed closure. Mathias Godfrey assigned a steward and left on a journey he prayed would change him for the better.
Personality: Under normal circumstances Mathias would be unrelentingly kind to his fellow man but there's a reason he always carries a sword when possible. His benevolent personality has suffered since being cursed. He constantly fights in his own head as to what to do. His heart always tells him to help another yet he cannot do so lightly anymore. The curse would have him become cold and harsh but so many years of being a paragon of generosity give him an advantage( for now).
Inventory: Mathias travels lightly. He does not have the full suit of heavy plate that he used to wear as he led men his men to victory. There are a few things he does carry; -A shoulder-satchel. Something to carry his provisions and non-immediate equipment. -A fluted breastplate to protect his vitals in skirmishes. -Mathias carries with him a heavier, tempered long sword to allows him to thrust through plate and cause more damage with normal cutting attacks. -In addition to the sword he carries a heater shield, not a particularly large shield but enough to be used both offensively and defensively so he could act as a defender to allies and an effective aggressor to foes.
Skills: Fencing and Swordsmanship - Trained and well-seasoned. Mathias is a very good combatant in close quarters and it wouldn't be unlikely for him to be able to handle two or three other combatants at the same time provided they were slightly less experienced than he(And about the same size...). Charismatic - Mathias was once a true leader of his own forces. His voice is commanding and he knows how to use it, whether for intimidation(Very seldomly) or for persuasion and leading. Plus he's learned how to shut up that snooty noble that everyone hates. Experienced Leader - Taking care of a large town and an army to boot teaches you things.
Other: Velka's Death Curse: Upon killing Velka the witch, Mathias was cursed. "Forever, thou son of Godfrey, shall you suffer for your generosity." "For every heart you lift yours shall be pierced!"
Thankfully the curse is not quite as literal as described but nonetheless detrimental to Mathias' very nature. It was clear that Velka had known of his exploits and it was perhaps these very actions she thought of in order to most hurt the self-exiled lord without killing him. An ironic cruelty. It is unknown if Velka is truly gone even after her death.
Name: Cyrano Race: Gargoyle Appearance: Cyrano is just over 7 feet tall, and most closely resembles a griffin. He has a beak that curves down from his face and then up again to form an s shape. He has tufted ears. He has wide pale glowing eyes that pass as giant pearls when he is frozen as a statue. He has a ruff around his neck that has streaks of metallic grey which also pattern his shoulders. He is otherwise a matte stone grey. He has bird shaped fore claws, wings like a bat or dragon, and lion shaped rear paws and tail. Personality wise, Cyrano is quiet and tends to ramble when he speaks. Once one gets to know him, they will realize that he also rambles the way he thinks. Cyrano is devoted to a fault to those he considers companions, and fiercely protective of such. He is somewhat ignorant of the world, and so it easy to mistake him as stupid.
Inventory: Upon arriving in the main cavern, Cyrano is carrying only 2 things, a glass globe so clear as to almost glow, and an amazingly life like statue of a gnome under the opposite arm. Special Abilities: scent, can sense magic auras on items or people, strength, flight, ability to turn into a statue, consume magical items to gain abilities, exceptional climbing ability, use wings as shields and bludgeoning weapons. Does not need to eat breathe or sleep. Can't swim.
Name: Rose. She has never, to her knowledge, possessed a surname. Sometimes she picks one for her amusement or to hide herself- Halwell, Sommers, Causwell, Hosner, Red. The last one she finds particularly hilarious. She has had a title applied to her by the people of a town near the forest which she resided in: The Trickster Witch.
Race: The girl at the very least appears to be Human. The truth may be more ambiguous.
Appearance: Rose possesses a slight figure, standing at 5'2". Her frame is slim, possessing little muscle or fat to speak of. Despite her diminutive stature her gait carries with it a sense of confidence and experience seemingly beyond her years. Her skin is a pale white, her face sprinkled with a small amount of freckles. One would be like to place her in her early to mid twenties, as the girl has a youthful and exuberant look to her. Her face is pretty- in fact many would call her gorgeous, her seductive features accentuated by striking deep green eyes. A tumult of wavy brown hair parades down past her shoulders, messy but in a manner that speaks to intention, as it is clearly clean and well kept. Her face is prone to conveying a range of emotions, but she keeps a mask of joy even in dire situations. One can often find a sly smile, one that may speaks of mischievousness or perhaps a sense of danger. One may also see the wide and wild grin that comes to her easily. Her smile is pretty, but also dangerous- her teeth are ground to fine points, a most curious feature for the otherwise beautiful women. What one is not prone to see in her face is fear or doubt; that sense of confidence in her gait carries to her demeanor. Sometime when no one is looking, or at least when she thinks that no one is looking, the expression of joy which she always seems to keep melts away. In her eyes a sense of longing and melancholy can be found, her mouth drawn into a hard line. Despite her hidden sadness the thought of Rose shedding a tear seems to be almost unthinkable. She wears a green tunic paired with form fitting black breeches, complemented by a fine silken cloak dyed black. She possess one of the pointed hats that has inexplicably become attached to witch folklore, aware of the ridiculousness of the garment but donning it proudly nonetheless.
Inventory: Rose's primary weapon is a staff hewn from a Rowan tree that serves as both a weapon and a focus for Rose's magic. The staff feature a deadly looking blade that can be retracted with the tap of a button near where she places her hands. Rose is a proficient fighter, but she is far from a master of arms. She has a backpack containing several witching supplies, some of which may repulse her companions. Phylacteries filled with blood, a bag of bones, pouches filled with reagents such as roots, plants, eye of newt, wool of bat, and whatnot. She has a number of scrolls, a series with combat spells inscribed on some while many remain blank. Her final item is a pair of ornate hand mirrors, one with a frame of gold that she will be reluctant to part with and one with a frame of silver that she is more likely to share.
Special Abilities Witch's Ritual- The magic of witch's is a tricky art indeed. Her spells are versatile and she knows many, but she's severely limited in her ability to use them. Her magic is a very exact art which require very precise rituals, meaning it is not something that she can use off the cuff. These rituals are often multi-step and require some sacrifice such as blood (A ritual may call specifically for her own blood), bone, or perhaps a living sacrifice. Additionally they may call for some of the reagents which she carries, which are in limited supply and may be difficult to find if she runs out. If she performs a misstep, either due to outside distraction or her own incompetence, the results may be disastrous. This sort of magic relies on consorting with demons or even minor gods for a piece of their power, and if they are displeased with the ritual's execution they may harm Rose and those around her.
Scrollcraft- One product of these rituals may be magical scrolls inscribed with a spell. These scrolls can be used to cast the spell without the required ritual, instead requiring an incantation, but they are destroyed with use. Complicated spells cannot be placed on them, strictly limited to combat and some utility abilities. Rose has a small collection at the moment but can create more with relative ease provided the proper reagents- the ritual to create a scroll is fairly simple after you first learn it. At the moment she has three scrolls inscribed with the ability to cast a fan of flames, three that allow her to call down lightning from above (The lightning is a magical construct and does not require the visibility of the sky), and five that will fill a room with light. It is important to note that others can use Rose's scrolls, but they must pay heed to use the proper incantation or they will not work.
Scrying- Rose's mirrors are not without purpose- they are used for scrying. She is not a fortune teller, but is instead able to project her image on reflective surfaces. In turn the image of what she is scrying is returned to her. This has a number of useful application: She may communicate with others by projecting her voice through mirrors, look at things which she cannot see, or spy on others. This ability comes with two caveats, the first being that if the surface is poor quality, the surface of a lake for example, the image will be muddled and perhaps indecipherable. The second is that this ability is poor for spying, as her own image is projected on the surface which she is scrying. Although this is a boon when communicating it is a quick giveaway if she is trying to view a location people do not want her to- covering the surface will render the ability useless.
Witch's Sniffing- Rose has spent some time around the dark arts. It's not uncommon for witch's like her to develop the ability to smell the touch of darkness. She can discern those who use or have been affected the dark arts- other witches, undead, vampries, those who have been cursed, and such. She needs to be relatively close to smell it, however, the threshold being about 20 feet.
History: Many tales hide in tomes of forgotten lore scattered throughout the land. One such tale is that of Rose, known to the people of a dreary village called Everfall as the 'trickster witch'. The old books tell many conflicting stories, although a few key details always remain the same. They all agree that Rose appears as a young, beautiful women, although some posit that she is a actually a withered hag that uses the souls of her victims to maintain her youth. They all agree that she brings weary travelers into her swamp hut, although there is a debate over whether this is to help them or hurt them. They all agree that after a terrible defeat she has disappeared. Of course, these books are all old, which begs the question: If these books are truly about the Rose that has appeared at the Endless Halls, how old could she possible be? But, before I get ahead of myself, there is one more key detail that the books lie in agreement on: All roses have their thorns, particularly the Trickster Witch of Everfall.
William Humphrey's book "On Monsters and Mysteries" is one book that tells the tale of Rose. In Humphrey's tale he writes of a hag that takes the form of a young maiden, stalking the roads about Everfall posing as a young gidl in peril, her true goal to prey on lone men. She plays the part of the damsel, conjuring wicked abominations for travelling men to save her from. Of course they always succeed in slaying Rose's conjurations, at which point the liberated maiden implores them to escort her back to her swampland home, stringing them along with promise of... an enticing reward. Upon reaching her hut the witch invites them inside, entering into a darkened room. As the door swings shut behind them it locks, sealed by some form of magic, and the room illuminates to reveal the horrid interior of the witch's lair. Humphrey describes the interior in great detail, painting a picture of a slaughterhouse filled with human remnants, strange brews, demonic symbols, and much and more depraved sights. Finally, as the prey realizes they have fallen into a trap, the witch's skin melts to reveal her true form, a withered old women. She then presents them with a riddle. If one answers it correctly they leave with their life. However, if they do not the witch will kills them, using their remains and their soul itself to fuel her demonic magic, particularly that which gives her life eternal.
However Humphrey's version of the story is not the sole account of Rose. Indeed there are many more, all conflicting. One other story is that told in Henry Bisland's "The Lore of the Wispy Woods", an account of the legends of the city of Everfall and the darkened woods around it. Rose's is not the only legend of Everfall, its inhabitants will tell you that the forests around it hold all sorts of dark mysteries and twisted monsters. However, in Bisland's tale Rose doesn't take the form of a malevolent hag. Bisland's account claims that she was indeed the age which she appeared, and uses no sort of demonic magic to achieve longevity. Instead the young witch roams the woods, playing harmless pranks on the people of Everfall and seeking to help lost or injured travelers in need. Those she finds in need may be taken back to her hut to rest and recover, by Bisland's account a warm and pleasant nook. Bisland describes her as a healer and a generally pleasant person to all who cross her path, likening her to some sort of whimsical forest spirit.
Both tales although differing do have the same ending, only some details changing. They both say that one day Rose encountered a valiant knight on the road, a champion of his hometown and a mighty warrior with wile to match. The tale splits here, with Humphrey's Rose using her trap to lure the knight back to her hut. Upon being presented with the witch's riddle he quickly deduces the answer, leaving unmolested. However in Bisland's tale the knight encounters Rose and the young witch becomes enamored with him, inviting him to sup at her home. The knight came to stay in Everfall for a time, and the witch came to love him. The knight too loved Rose, and as time went on the two would soon wed. However, Rose concealed from the knight that she was a witch, knowing that his chivalric code compelled him to slay witches. Inevitably the truth would be revealed, and the knight would flee in disgust of his lover's use of demonic pagan arts.
Both tales converge when the knight returns to slay Rose. Humphrey's Rose slays the knight, forever imprisoning his soul in a hell crafted for him. Bisland's Rose, spurned by her lover, escaped the knight's clutches and curses him, casting a hex on him that will cause misfortune for him wherever he goes. Bisland's legend says that the knight is eventually stripped of his lands and dies a lonely death, but Rose was never seen by the people of Everfall again.
No one can truly say which story is correct, and the truth is likely somewhere in-between the many accounts of her life.
Victor is a pale man, his skin a pallid and almost grey color, his hair is as pale as his face, long and often apparently unkempt his hair seems to have an almost beast like allure, not unlike his face. The man has a... suave and swarthy air about him, mysterious and darkly charming Guttman appears to be in his mid twenties to thirties, and his face often carries a smirk or a haughty look of superiority. His body is well built, not stocky but stong, and not thin but graceful his arms and legs radiate a strange physical prowess, almost unnatural. His broad shoulders attest to his strength and his long limbs his speed.
He is never without his heavy armour, a set of artfully crafted fluted full plate colored a dark rust red. The articulate piece of armour is heavy, and carved for the maximum deflection of blows. He wears a great helm helmet, topped with the terrifying metal wings of a bat. Normally, such armour would heavily slow its wearer down, but Guttman has an unholy strength and speed, able to move in the armour the way another man could only move in far lighter armour. He has a dark black cape, that appears tattered and aged, much shorter than it once may have been, though he will sometimes remove it when in combat. His vampiric abilities give him beauty, grace, speed and strength,,, but do come at a cost. The longer he goes without blood the more he will appear... bestial. As time wears on Guttman will begin to slouch, growl and focus more and more on killing... until he becomes little more than a beast seeking lifeblood. The longer he goes the weaker he will become, and the more blood he will need to return to his full strength.
Inventory: Fluted Plate Mail, longsword, Black cape, shield, lance
Special abilities: Vampiro majoris- Victor Guttman is a vampire, and carries the enhanced physical abilities that brings. He is far stronger and faster than a mortal man, and does not age. In addition, being undead means he can shrug off far more damage than any other mortal... but all this power comes at a steep price. In addition to his need for blood their are several methods that will quickly kill him outright as well as objects, materials and substances that weaken or can even disable him.
Personality: Although he appears suave and sophisticated, Victor Guttman is anything but. Though intelligent enough to know he must hide his true nature, and more than able to effectively lie about what he is he hardly cares what others think of him. He enjoys combat with a passion, and little delites him more than cutting up a worthy foe. Though civil enough with allies, and even kind or rather accomodating with allies he gives off an unsettling air... and the cruelty hidden in his eyes comes out when he becomes embroiled in combat, laughing and howling as he fights in a terrifyingly bestial display. Though he puts an a thin air of civility and comraderie, he is cruel, hateful, angry, bestial and completely entranced by his own wishes and desires... above all he is selfish and greedy.
History: Victor Guttman was changed into a Vampire... well it was quite a long timme ago when he was given the gift of the blood kiss. So long ago in fact he does not remember his life as a human, past that he was once a mercenary knight of some sort. His old life hardly mattered, for this new unholy life granted him more than he ever could have gained as a mortal. For untold years he fought across the lands, seilling his unholy strength and skill to the highest bidder. He won many battles, wielding lance and sword atop his skeletal steed... until he was struck down. In the muck of some battle on some gods forsaken mire he was struck down by a myriad of blades and implements and sank... beeath the peat and stench until the light of the world was gone to him... and then he awoke, deep within the bowels of... somewhere, his arms and armour about him... time to forge a new way.
Other: Victor has attained such skill with the lance he is able to wield the weapon unmounted in spite of its length and weight.
Appearance: First and foremost she is a spider centaur. Standing at an average of 6 feet she is not much taller than a human. But lack of height does not mean she is not a large creature. The top half of her body is reminiscent to that of a human in their late teens. Her skin is a pale almost white color. Raven black locks reach down to the small of her back. Her eyes are a striking green with three slitted pupil each. While not often on display she has two long fangs used to bite pray. Her front is covered by an exoskeleton that shield her chest and abdomen.
Her waist is where the human similarities end. Below that point is the black thorax of a spider that is easily twice the size of her upper body. Where the two halves meet protrude the eight legs of an enormous spider. The segments have spurs that can be used to grab and hold with each leg coming down to a narrow point. Tougher than the abdomen her legs are quite strong and durable as they must to be able to carry not only Lila but any pray she should snare. Her exoskeleton has a sheen in direct light despite being covered by tiny, sensitive hairs.
Inventory: She carries nothing at this point.
Special Abilities: Low Light Vision - Being primarily a subtraction creature her eyes are well adapted to seeing in low light environments. Sensory Hairs - What she cannot see she can likely feel with the hairs that cover her exoskeleton. Wall Crawling - She is able to scale walls and even the ceilings with ease. Web Spinning - She is able to spin exceptionally strong strands of webbing for a myriad of purposes. Venomous Bite - Her fangs contain a paralyzing venom that can be used to incapacitate pray or a threat. She uses this sparingly as it takes time to produce more.
Personality: Being a young Jorogumo she is still wrestling with her identity as a creature of the depths. Unlike most of her kind that prefer to stay out of sight and where it is comfortable, Lila is somewhat adventurous and inquisitive. This has gotten her into trouble on more than one occasion both on the surface and deeper underground.
History: According to legend a Jorogumo is a spider that, after living for 400 years, gains the magical ability to shapeshift. Taking on a human appearance to lure pray in they are malevolent in nature. In truth they are their own unique species, rare and seclusive even to other subterranean dwellers. Many are wary to avoid the den of a Jorogumo because even when one cannot see the creature it is sure that they are nearby.
Her kind were left to fend for themselves as early as two years, meaning there was little upbringing to speak of. Relying on instinct kept them alive and safe. For whatever reason Lila lacked this same instinctual trait. Even early on she would venture near the mouth of caves to look out at the world above. On the occasion where she would go out where she was visible most creatures would run and hide. However she has also been attacked before, mostly by humans, despite her attempts at peaceful conversation. Hard to get past the stigma that she was simply trying to lure people in to kill and eat them.
On the other hand she also would crawl further down into tunnels and caverns that could hold creatures more fearsome than herself. Getting lost in such circumstances was a rarity. Lila could simply lay a strand of web wherever she traveled and follow it back like a trail. While most of the time she and anything else in the caves left each other alone she made the error of stumbling across the den of a giant snake. With no other option to run she managed to squeeze through a gap in the wall and fall to the ground. The floor beneath her must not have liked being fallen upon because it gave way and Lila plummeted into the rushing water of an underground river. The roiling current swept her away into the unknown.
Other: Having been on her own pretty much all her life she is only slightly literate. While speech is no problem she's only ever had random books to attempt to read. No one was cooperative enough to teach her to read.
Unyat does not wear any clothing but does have Small Creatures (Nglui) always crawling on his body Inventory: The Black Lexicon a tome of profane and black rituals authored by Unyat himself filled with magical theory and lost magic. Ritual Knife a knife made from obsidian and blessed to be used in terrible ceremonies. Nglui Who are enslaved to Unyat's mind.
Special Abilities: Necromacy, Able to raise the dead and enslave them to his will for a brief period of time before the magic fades. They are very strong however as they are powered by magic rather than muscle but this means the magic only lasts a few days at most. Mind Magic, Able to invade the minds of others to either destroy or enslave their minds or render them hopelessly insane. Resistance to Black Magic, Through eons of working with Black Magic Unyat is nearly immune to it and the madness that accompanies the lost magic.
Personality: Old, and distrusting of others. However, he will pursue magical knowledge with tenacity especially if it pertains to his ancient gods.
History: Unyat had lived in the deepest tunnels and lost parts of the world for many eons, civilizations and great heroes lived and died above and around him but they mattered little to Unyat. He ignored them as minor trifles that needlessly distracted him from his ultimate goal, bringing the old gods back to the world. To survive Unyat preyed on the foolish who ventured too deep. Over the passing years, Unyat found in a deep tunnel a small colony of Nglui feasting on someone who had tried to navigate through the deep tunnels. The Nglui are extremely aggressive and are capable of stripping a body to the bones in a matter of a few minutes. Unyat enslaved the small creatures to his will with a dark ritual.
Dark ritual and black magics are nothing strange to Unyat. He obsesses about magical theory and strives to learn ever more. In the tunnels he strove to learn the oldest of rituals, striving for the lost connection to his elder gods. While never bringing his gods into this realm the portals did occasionally allow something through, though it was never helpful and often made the deeps more dangerous if that where possible.
Age: It has been 20 years since his birth Appears between 13-16 Race: Hecate's Necromancer He appears human however there is something off about him. Appearance:
He is dressed in a long black cape and hood over black pants and a white shirt with arcanic symbols over dark robes that share his cape and hood, he also doesn't appear to have any shoes. He has Deep blue eyes and deathly pale skin, he's cold to the touch and he has snow white hair. He's 5'9 in height. He has a frail physical build, light like a twig.
Special abilities: Necromancy, life is but a prison to him. Necromancy of Hecate's is a vast and unique power, with abilities that stretch over life, death, and the biomatter that makes up these concepts. There power is limited by experience and energy consumption. Something is off about him, he seems normal and nothing special at first but there is some force or property that lingers behind his very existence, as if he is far from a mere mortal, otherwise he doesn't appear to have any powers or abilities of interest, at least none that he knows of.
Personality: Shy, introvert, seems slightly paranoid and cautious. He seems to have an extreme fear of death or anything related to it. A subconscience reminder of his origins and the evil of it.
History: Like all but one of hecate's necromancers, he was born from the first of hecate's necromancer. Though he is for at the moment, the youngest child, his age is closer to his appearance then his brethren. Like all of his brothers, he was born with such a curse and was forced to serve the cult of hecate and foster his power. Refusing this and his own powers, he attempted to flee, which resulted in his first death. The first death is always the most traumtic for most, however due to his desperation to escape the rush only added to the extremities, loosing his memory in mortal flesh and reforming in the underground hallway. Only death can free and awaken him. He doesn't remember who he is or where he comes from, just his first name. However he seems to have an extreme phobia of dying, to the point where he overly cautious, and additionally he seems to very paranoid and keeps himself aware of his surroundings, as if he's scared about being watched.
