Name: Ivy Frost
Age: 16
Gender: Female
Species: 3rd generation Chimera (Broad winged raptor)
Occupation: 2nd year Student
Magic Type Preference: Temperature Control (Fire and Ice, Steam Explosion)
Innate Magic Talent: Diamond Armor
Though the youngest of the three Miss Frost is the undisputed ringleader of the trio. Miss Frost Never allows her first name to be used, even among the teachers at the Institute. She is possibly the wealthiest, most refined, most famous student Mordhaben's Institute has in attendance. The Frost family is well known within the Empire and weilds quite a bit of political and financial power. Miss Frost has the looks of a well bred heiress and always dresses the part. She also wears an almost constant smile as a proper lady of her standing should, at least by her parents standards. However, that smile has never once reached her eyes no matter who she turned her gaze upon. Her eyes are cold and piercing, like those of a viper about to strike. Miss Frost also has a poisonous tongue to compliment those snake-like eyes, and she delivers scathing criticism to anyone who wastes her time. It is rumored one unfortunate victim of her toxic words actually commited suicide, though this is unconfirmed and few care to find out first hand if this could be true.
Name: Yvette Urzenheim
Age: 17
Gender: Female
Species: 4th generation Chimera (Cat)
Occupation: 2nd year Student
Magic Type Preference: Frequency Control
Innate Magic Talent: Aural Relocation
Yvette is well known as the most openly cruel and vicious of the three. She is likewise dedicated to Miss Frost like no one else, in fact disturbingly obsessed may be more accurate. There is nothing Yvette would not do for Frost, though it could be said that there is little Yvette would not do in general. When not fawning over Frost and catering to her every whim, Yvette truly enjoys screwing with others, even if it leads to their ruination. The girl delivers cruelty and concocts elaborate schemes with a smile, all in the interest of her own entertainment. Yvette does not hesitate to use money, her family's influence, or even more deplorable methods to get out of trouble, which she frequently finds herself in. Many suspect, though no one openly voice, that Yvette is mentally unbalanced. Few people would even be surprised if Yvette were to go so far as murder for her precious Lady Frost.
Name: Claire Eisenov
Age: 19
Gender: Female
Species: Human
Occupation: 2nd year Student
Magic Type Preference: Jack of Trades in Magic
Innate Magic Talent: None
Claire is easily the group's 'nice girl' and general mediator, or in Yvette's case, the voice of reason. Even so Claire is largely neutral and does little to interfere with her two closest friends. Truly the odd one out no onee can figure why she chooses to spend most of her time with the meanest girls currently in the school. A few suspect Claire is secretly the worst of the three but this is definitely the minority opinion. Most people actually get along decently with the girl as she is fairly friendly and approachable. She does have a fierce temper but even when set off there is usually a good reason and she is far less abusive than the others. That said some of her episodes can become violent which has earned her a mixed reputation. Claire's family is also wealthy but much more obscure than the Frosts or Urzenheims, with a far more modest fortune. Also unlike the other two Claire does not throw around the weight of her family name, for any reason. Claire instead prefers to deal with her problems personally.
Age: 16
Gender: Female
Species: 3rd generation Chimera (Broad winged raptor)
Occupation: 2nd year Student
Magic Type Preference: Temperature Control (Fire and Ice, Steam Explosion)
Innate Magic Talent: Diamond Armor
Though the youngest of the three Miss Frost is the undisputed ringleader of the trio. Miss Frost Never allows her first name to be used, even among the teachers at the Institute. She is possibly the wealthiest, most refined, most famous student Mordhaben's Institute has in attendance. The Frost family is well known within the Empire and weilds quite a bit of political and financial power. Miss Frost has the looks of a well bred heiress and always dresses the part. She also wears an almost constant smile as a proper lady of her standing should, at least by her parents standards. However, that smile has never once reached her eyes no matter who she turned her gaze upon. Her eyes are cold and piercing, like those of a viper about to strike. Miss Frost also has a poisonous tongue to compliment those snake-like eyes, and she delivers scathing criticism to anyone who wastes her time. It is rumored one unfortunate victim of her toxic words actually commited suicide, though this is unconfirmed and few care to find out first hand if this could be true.
Name: Yvette Urzenheim
Age: 17
Gender: Female
Species: 4th generation Chimera (Cat)
Occupation: 2nd year Student
Magic Type Preference: Frequency Control
Innate Magic Talent: Aural Relocation
Yvette is well known as the most openly cruel and vicious of the three. She is likewise dedicated to Miss Frost like no one else, in fact disturbingly obsessed may be more accurate. There is nothing Yvette would not do for Frost, though it could be said that there is little Yvette would not do in general. When not fawning over Frost and catering to her every whim, Yvette truly enjoys screwing with others, even if it leads to their ruination. The girl delivers cruelty and concocts elaborate schemes with a smile, all in the interest of her own entertainment. Yvette does not hesitate to use money, her family's influence, or even more deplorable methods to get out of trouble, which she frequently finds herself in. Many suspect, though no one openly voice, that Yvette is mentally unbalanced. Few people would even be surprised if Yvette were to go so far as murder for her precious Lady Frost.
Name: Claire Eisenov
Age: 19
Gender: Female
Species: Human
Occupation: 2nd year Student
Magic Type Preference: Jack of Trades in Magic
Innate Magic Talent: None
Claire is easily the group's 'nice girl' and general mediator, or in Yvette's case, the voice of reason. Even so Claire is largely neutral and does little to interfere with her two closest friends. Truly the odd one out no onee can figure why she chooses to spend most of her time with the meanest girls currently in the school. A few suspect Claire is secretly the worst of the three but this is definitely the minority opinion. Most people actually get along decently with the girl as she is fairly friendly and approachable. She does have a fierce temper but even when set off there is usually a good reason and she is far less abusive than the others. That said some of her episodes can become violent which has earned her a mixed reputation. Claire's family is also wealthy but much more obscure than the Frosts or Urzenheims, with a far more modest fortune. Also unlike the other two Claire does not throw around the weight of her family name, for any reason. Claire instead prefers to deal with her problems personally.
Name:
Ohon Katann
Appearance:
Ohon isn't incredibly beautiful, but he's definitely pretty. Or, at least, as pretty as a four foot tall, forty-five pound boy with dragonfly wings can get. He has narrow, soft facial features and large, feminine eyes of a brilliant yellow, and golden skin. Ohon's wingspan measures roughly 8 feet from tip to tip, and each of his four wings has an iridescent shine to it that catches the sunlight with a colorful glow. As he flies, he casts colored shadows upon the ground. Beneath his clothing, one might note that Ohon's skin is incredibly tough and rigid, almost like chitin. His face is surprisingly durable as well, and is more likely to crack and crunch than bruise.
Ohon's fashion style is fairly simple: he wears a white tuxedo with a pink tie and a purple corsage. He keeps his (relatively) long and flowing hair well maintained and regularly changes his choice of hair color.
In combat, Ohon wields an enormous kanabo that weighs as much as he himself does.
Age:
19
Species:
Third Generation Dragonfly Chimera
Gender:
Male
Occupation:
Student, First Year
Personality:
Grating. Persistent. Belligerent at times. Thinks with testosterone more than with his brain. You'd do well to keep a large flyswatter handy. Of course, he's slightly clumsy, so he prefers to stay airborne and not risk bumping into things. Ohon Katann is a fairly nice person when you finally get through his incredibly thick and empty head, though most lack the patience to get to that point. Ohon himself is usually the driving force behind his friendships, simply by merit of sticking around and refusing to fuck off for so long that people simply accept his presence as a fact of life, and perhaps eventually see the well hidden 'good' buried deep inside.
Ohon's memory is horribly lacking, and while he's fairly perceptive of others' emotions, he tends to forget things that others might take for granted. Getting punched in the face is no big deal to him - a few minutes later, he'll have forgotten about it completely. But it's inconsistent - saying something unreasonably cruel to Ohon will genuinely upset him, and he won't forget it for a while.
Openness: 82
Neuroticism: 36
Agreeableness: 25
Extroversion: 80
Conscientiousness: 35
Biography:
Ohon Katann is incredibly forgetful. He can't remember where he's from or where his family are, but his application at the very least has some accurate info.
Ohon was born as the result of a chimera circus performer having a one night stand with a member of the audience. His name, in his mother's culture, means "Shame of the Family", and he was dumped off at a boarding school as a young child. Other children would be traumatized by being dumped off as someone else's problem, but Ohon's extraordinarily low test scores provided an explanation as to why he didn't seem to care: he was a complete and total moron. While he was often in trouble for one form of mischief or another, punishments seemed to have very little effect. Conversely, seeing how his actions hurt others did have an effect, and he would always shape up if his actions were actively hurting others.
This caused significantly more problems when he struck puberty at 13, and he gained a reputation for sexual harassment at his old boarding school, which still follows him to this day. When he finally was given the boot at 18, he made his way to Mordhaben's Institute for Aspiring Mages with the intent of becoming a productive member of society.
Attributes:
Strength: 6
Endurance: 5
Constitution: 10
Agility: 7
Dexterity: 3
Intelligence: 2
Wisdom: 3
Charisma: 3
Flight: 1
Aesthetics/Appearance: 10
Magic Type Preference:
Vector Manipulation
Innate Magic Talent:
"Home Run!" - Object Velocity Multiplication
Ohon uses either his physical senses or Vision to determine the velocity and momentum of an object - preferably touching him - and magnifies it using magical energies. The greater the change and the larger the object's mass, the more power is used. While the power can't easily change another sapient creature's velocity, it can be used to change the velocity of objects that those creatures are in contact with, such as clothes and weapons. An object at rest will stay at rest, but an object in motion may be accelerated or decelerated in an instant. Usually, Ohon uses this with his enormous club.
Interests:
Making friends. Or trying to.
Playing baseball.
Food.
Being a hero!
Skills:
Getting hit. Hard.
Getting shouted at. A lot. With really, really mean words.
Forgetting his Condensers.
Ohon Katann
Appearance:
Ohon isn't incredibly beautiful, but he's definitely pretty. Or, at least, as pretty as a four foot tall, forty-five pound boy with dragonfly wings can get. He has narrow, soft facial features and large, feminine eyes of a brilliant yellow, and golden skin. Ohon's wingspan measures roughly 8 feet from tip to tip, and each of his four wings has an iridescent shine to it that catches the sunlight with a colorful glow. As he flies, he casts colored shadows upon the ground. Beneath his clothing, one might note that Ohon's skin is incredibly tough and rigid, almost like chitin. His face is surprisingly durable as well, and is more likely to crack and crunch than bruise.
Ohon's fashion style is fairly simple: he wears a white tuxedo with a pink tie and a purple corsage. He keeps his (relatively) long and flowing hair well maintained and regularly changes his choice of hair color.
In combat, Ohon wields an enormous kanabo that weighs as much as he himself does.
Age:
19
Species:
Third Generation Dragonfly Chimera
Gender:
Male
Occupation:
Student, First Year
Personality:
Grating. Persistent. Belligerent at times. Thinks with testosterone more than with his brain. You'd do well to keep a large flyswatter handy. Of course, he's slightly clumsy, so he prefers to stay airborne and not risk bumping into things. Ohon Katann is a fairly nice person when you finally get through his incredibly thick and empty head, though most lack the patience to get to that point. Ohon himself is usually the driving force behind his friendships, simply by merit of sticking around and refusing to fuck off for so long that people simply accept his presence as a fact of life, and perhaps eventually see the well hidden 'good' buried deep inside.
Ohon's memory is horribly lacking, and while he's fairly perceptive of others' emotions, he tends to forget things that others might take for granted. Getting punched in the face is no big deal to him - a few minutes later, he'll have forgotten about it completely. But it's inconsistent - saying something unreasonably cruel to Ohon will genuinely upset him, and he won't forget it for a while.
Openness: 82
Neuroticism: 36
Agreeableness: 25
Extroversion: 80
Conscientiousness: 35
Biography:
Ohon Katann is incredibly forgetful. He can't remember where he's from or where his family are, but his application at the very least has some accurate info.
Ohon was born as the result of a chimera circus performer having a one night stand with a member of the audience. His name, in his mother's culture, means "Shame of the Family", and he was dumped off at a boarding school as a young child. Other children would be traumatized by being dumped off as someone else's problem, but Ohon's extraordinarily low test scores provided an explanation as to why he didn't seem to care: he was a complete and total moron. While he was often in trouble for one form of mischief or another, punishments seemed to have very little effect. Conversely, seeing how his actions hurt others did have an effect, and he would always shape up if his actions were actively hurting others.
This caused significantly more problems when he struck puberty at 13, and he gained a reputation for sexual harassment at his old boarding school, which still follows him to this day. When he finally was given the boot at 18, he made his way to Mordhaben's Institute for Aspiring Mages with the intent of becoming a productive member of society.
Attributes:
Strength: 6
Endurance: 5
Constitution: 10
Agility: 7
Dexterity: 3
Intelligence: 2
Wisdom: 3
Charisma: 3
Flight: 1
Aesthetics/Appearance: 10
Magic Type Preference:
Vector Manipulation
Innate Magic Talent:
"Home Run!" - Object Velocity Multiplication
Ohon uses either his physical senses or Vision to determine the velocity and momentum of an object - preferably touching him - and magnifies it using magical energies. The greater the change and the larger the object's mass, the more power is used. While the power can't easily change another sapient creature's velocity, it can be used to change the velocity of objects that those creatures are in contact with, such as clothes and weapons. An object at rest will stay at rest, but an object in motion may be accelerated or decelerated in an instant. Usually, Ohon uses this with his enormous club.
Interests:
Making friends. Or trying to.
Playing baseball.
Food.
Being a hero!
Skills:
Getting hit. Hard.
Getting shouted at. A lot. With really, really mean words.
Forgetting his Condensers.
Name:
Mionrashk ar Wahaca
Appearance:
Mionrashk is a Telkit - a type of near-feline Monster. As such, he is rather small, measuring roughly two feet from foot to eartip, and he weighs in the neighborhood of 30lbs. His species has a large, spiky 'mane' sweeping backwards from behind their ears to cover their necks and much of the shoulder region, extremely powerful hind legs in comparison to the more 'normal' frontal legs, and an incredibly long prehensile 'tail' that could perhaps be described more as a "furry tentacle" sprouting from just above the pelvis. His species walks with a quadrupedal, almost lizardlike gait. Telkits live between fifteen and twenty-five years, and Mionrashk is considered a young adult by their standards.
Mionrashk himself is colored a dull shade of purplish taupe grey, with a deeper glassy purple color in his mane's 'fur'. Each of his four eyes has a horizontal rectangular pupil surrounded by an iris of stonelike green-grey, and the thinner 'fur' of his face is dyed in intricate patterns indicating his clan - that of the Wahaca region of the Deadlands, with swirls and spirals dotted by icons like fangs. Mionrashk has 273 of such fanglike icons dotting his face, with one larger dyed 'tattoo' resembling a claw upon the center of his forehead. The tip of his prehensile tentacle-tail is burnt, with the glasslike 'fur' melted and fused into something resembling a stinger.
Mionrashk does not wear human clothing, and a long, unpleasant patch of hairless scar tissue covers his underbelly region, where his lower floating ribcage is jagged and has healed incorrectly.
Age:
6 Years (30 equivalent)
Species:
Telkit (Monster, Feline, S)
Gender:
Male
Occupation:
Student, First Year
Personality:
Mionrashk is a serious, polite sort, as the result of his upbringing. Telkits do not have tight-knit families like humans do, but rather 'colonies' in which social group members claim their own territory and meet at a common area. Mionrashk is much the same way, though among his people, he spent more time socializing than the older generation. He prides his prowess as a hunter, having participated in over three hundred Hunts and having slain almost as many of his targets. But even more important to him than his pride as a hunter is his interest in magic and medicine. While the Monsters of the Deadlands have their own extremely powerful magics, the humans are leagues ahead of them in scientific knowledge, and Mionrashk believes that studying amongst the humans may allow him to bring the secrets of longevity to his people.
Openness: 63
Neuroticism: 60
Agreeableness: 43
Extroversion: 27
Conscientiousness: 80
Biography:
Mionrashk was born in the central Deadlands, in what used to be southern Mexico. Immediately after hatching from his egg, his father taught him to hunt small rodents and insects, then left him in an unclaimed area near the Wahaca Colony. Mionrashk leaned on his instincts to survive in the junglelike environment of the Deadlands, preferring to run and hide when faced with creatures too large for him to fight, and hunted as a kitten for a year before finally finding his way back to the Colony's central area. While Telkits do not place importance on bloodlines and family, he was met with sympathy. There had been a war of some sort, and both his father and his eldest brothers had volunteered for the defense of the Deadlands Academy against humans, where they had been killed by naval artillery fire.
Mionrashk became very close with three Telkits in particular - Kahate of the Thousand Kills, who had returned from the war missing his tail, Minyar, who would become Mionrashk's mate a year later, and Otope, the Colony's Eldest. Kahate taught Mionrashk the intricacies and limits of Telkit magic for four years, during which time Minyar and Mionrashk merged their territories and hunted together. Mionrashk never fathered any children save for one, who was the Chimera child of the human explorer who had killed Minyar with a 'gun'. Mionrashk nearly died when the 'child' outgrew his birthing pouch and tore him open. The chimera child had inherited the human intolerance for hydrogen cyanide, which made up a significant portion of the local atmosphere, and died within seconds of escaping Mionrashk's body. Otope healed Mionrashk and burned the chimera's body to save Mionrashk's image, and when Otope died of old age, Mionrashk decided it was time to move northwards in search of answers to his kind's short lifespan.
During his travels, he encountered humans who spoke of an Institute that sounded rather similar to the Deadlands Academy. And so he chose to enroll.
Attributes:
Strength: 2
Endurance: 4
Constitution: 2
Agility: 9
Dexterity: 4
Intelligence: 7
Wisdom: 7
Charisma: 4
Venom: 1 (minor neurotoxin and paralytic, transferred through frontal claws)
Magic Type Preference:
Imprecise 'Natural' Magics - Pyromancy, cryomancy, floramancy, geomancy.
Innate Magic Talent:
Thousand Cuts - Patterned 'natural' elemental conjuration. High volume, low intensity.
Interests:
Reading.
Hunting.
Experimenting.
Marking territory.
Traveling and exploring.
Skills:
Sneaking.
Tracking others through hearing.
Jumping far.
Mionrashk ar Wahaca
Appearance:
Mionrashk is a Telkit - a type of near-feline Monster. As such, he is rather small, measuring roughly two feet from foot to eartip, and he weighs in the neighborhood of 30lbs. His species has a large, spiky 'mane' sweeping backwards from behind their ears to cover their necks and much of the shoulder region, extremely powerful hind legs in comparison to the more 'normal' frontal legs, and an incredibly long prehensile 'tail' that could perhaps be described more as a "furry tentacle" sprouting from just above the pelvis. His species walks with a quadrupedal, almost lizardlike gait. Telkits live between fifteen and twenty-five years, and Mionrashk is considered a young adult by their standards.
Mionrashk himself is colored a dull shade of purplish taupe grey, with a deeper glassy purple color in his mane's 'fur'. Each of his four eyes has a horizontal rectangular pupil surrounded by an iris of stonelike green-grey, and the thinner 'fur' of his face is dyed in intricate patterns indicating his clan - that of the Wahaca region of the Deadlands, with swirls and spirals dotted by icons like fangs. Mionrashk has 273 of such fanglike icons dotting his face, with one larger dyed 'tattoo' resembling a claw upon the center of his forehead. The tip of his prehensile tentacle-tail is burnt, with the glasslike 'fur' melted and fused into something resembling a stinger.
Mionrashk does not wear human clothing, and a long, unpleasant patch of hairless scar tissue covers his underbelly region, where his lower floating ribcage is jagged and has healed incorrectly.
Age:
6 Years (30 equivalent)
Species:
Telkit (Monster, Feline, S)
Gender:
Male
Occupation:
Student, First Year
Personality:
Mionrashk is a serious, polite sort, as the result of his upbringing. Telkits do not have tight-knit families like humans do, but rather 'colonies' in which social group members claim their own territory and meet at a common area. Mionrashk is much the same way, though among his people, he spent more time socializing than the older generation. He prides his prowess as a hunter, having participated in over three hundred Hunts and having slain almost as many of his targets. But even more important to him than his pride as a hunter is his interest in magic and medicine. While the Monsters of the Deadlands have their own extremely powerful magics, the humans are leagues ahead of them in scientific knowledge, and Mionrashk believes that studying amongst the humans may allow him to bring the secrets of longevity to his people.
Openness: 63
Neuroticism: 60
Agreeableness: 43
Extroversion: 27
Conscientiousness: 80
Biography:
Mionrashk was born in the central Deadlands, in what used to be southern Mexico. Immediately after hatching from his egg, his father taught him to hunt small rodents and insects, then left him in an unclaimed area near the Wahaca Colony. Mionrashk leaned on his instincts to survive in the junglelike environment of the Deadlands, preferring to run and hide when faced with creatures too large for him to fight, and hunted as a kitten for a year before finally finding his way back to the Colony's central area. While Telkits do not place importance on bloodlines and family, he was met with sympathy. There had been a war of some sort, and both his father and his eldest brothers had volunteered for the defense of the Deadlands Academy against humans, where they had been killed by naval artillery fire.
Mionrashk became very close with three Telkits in particular - Kahate of the Thousand Kills, who had returned from the war missing his tail, Minyar, who would become Mionrashk's mate a year later, and Otope, the Colony's Eldest. Kahate taught Mionrashk the intricacies and limits of Telkit magic for four years, during which time Minyar and Mionrashk merged their territories and hunted together. Mionrashk never fathered any children save for one, who was the Chimera child of the human explorer who had killed Minyar with a 'gun'. Mionrashk nearly died when the 'child' outgrew his birthing pouch and tore him open. The chimera child had inherited the human intolerance for hydrogen cyanide, which made up a significant portion of the local atmosphere, and died within seconds of escaping Mionrashk's body. Otope healed Mionrashk and burned the chimera's body to save Mionrashk's image, and when Otope died of old age, Mionrashk decided it was time to move northwards in search of answers to his kind's short lifespan.
During his travels, he encountered humans who spoke of an Institute that sounded rather similar to the Deadlands Academy. And so he chose to enroll.
Attributes:
Strength: 2
Endurance: 4
Constitution: 2
Agility: 9
Dexterity: 4
Intelligence: 7
Wisdom: 7
Charisma: 4
Venom: 1 (minor neurotoxin and paralytic, transferred through frontal claws)
Magic Type Preference:
Imprecise 'Natural' Magics - Pyromancy, cryomancy, floramancy, geomancy.
Innate Magic Talent:
Thousand Cuts - Patterned 'natural' elemental conjuration. High volume, low intensity.
Interests:
Reading.
Hunting.
Experimenting.
Marking territory.
Traveling and exploring.
Skills:
Sneaking.
Tracking others through hearing.
Jumping far.
Name:
Boorkat Malkin
Appearance:
The first thing anybody would notice is that Boorkat is enormous, standing at 9' and weighing roughly 945 lbs. The second thing is that he seems to be a very large walking lobster, with a blood red, ridged carapace covering his entire body all around. Two jet black eyes shine out with a dull glow from beneath the ridge on the top end of his shell, with a second pair of jet black eyes around the side of his head resting below an even deeper ridge. Boorkat's face is difficult to pin down as being human in any way whatsoever, what with the lack of a nose and ears, and the three foot-long incisors surrounding a small mouth flooded with razor sharp teeth.
In an effort to make himself look more presentable, Boorkat wears one of the largest tweed suits anybody has ever seen. It looks terrible, but it still looks better than walking around with his carapace exposed. For some time, he tried to wear a trilby hat as well, but he has since given up as it required the use of glue to keep it on his head.
Boorkat's right forearm ends in an absolutely enormous claw that looks as though it can crack an automobile in half, whereas his left forearm is tipped in a humanlike hand. Symmetry didn't seem to be a big deal when he was born.
Age:
62
Species:
First Generation Chimera, Crustacean.
Gender:
Unknown, but refers to himself as male.
Occupation:
Mordhaben's Institute Administrator
Personality:
If anyone could understand him, Boorkat would seem quite friendly and caring. He's about as chatty as first generation Chimeras come, and has to be routinely reprimanded for constantly trying to talk because his 'voice' is incredibly grating and unpleasant. Boorkat is always found in his office on the Administrative Building's first floor, flipping through applications, writing education plans, going over disciplinary reports, and balancing the school budget. On the rare occasion that he leaves his administrative duties to another, it's generally for a school event - such as the opening ceremony, on tours, or at auditorium assemblies.
Due to his lobsterspeak, Boorkat must use a translator to communicate with non-telepathic students.
Openness: 100
Neuroticism: 30
Agreeableness: 74
Extroversion: 85
Conscientiousness: 32
Attributes:
Strength: 9
Endurance: 9
Constitution: 11
Agility: 7
Dexterity: 1
Intelligence: 5
Wisdom: 5
Charisma: 7
Aesthetics/Appearance: He's a lobster. Why're you checking him out again? For that matter, why does a lobsterman have a granddaughter?
Magic Type Preference:
Weapon Conjuration
Innate Magic Talent:
Claw Cannon
Interests:
Education
Reading
Writing
Playing Chess
Skills:
Strategizing
Speed Reading
Boxing
Heavy Weapons usage
Biography:
He's a gigantic bipedal lobsterlike first generation Chimera. It can be safely assumed that his life before working for The Institute was pretty awful. He's been working as Institute Administrator for three years now, and was an intern for four years prior, and even before that he was a student from the age of 16 onwards. Beyond that, though, not much is known and his original application is locked in a sturdy filing cabinet in the school basement, shielded by magic. Boorkat Malkin claims to be the result of some 'creative' explorers in an oceanic cavern near the western edge of the Deadlands Gulf, which he has in the past used as an example of why students should be careful around opposite-sex Monsters.
Boorkat Malkin
Appearance:
The first thing anybody would notice is that Boorkat is enormous, standing at 9' and weighing roughly 945 lbs. The second thing is that he seems to be a very large walking lobster, with a blood red, ridged carapace covering his entire body all around. Two jet black eyes shine out with a dull glow from beneath the ridge on the top end of his shell, with a second pair of jet black eyes around the side of his head resting below an even deeper ridge. Boorkat's face is difficult to pin down as being human in any way whatsoever, what with the lack of a nose and ears, and the three foot-long incisors surrounding a small mouth flooded with razor sharp teeth.
In an effort to make himself look more presentable, Boorkat wears one of the largest tweed suits anybody has ever seen. It looks terrible, but it still looks better than walking around with his carapace exposed. For some time, he tried to wear a trilby hat as well, but he has since given up as it required the use of glue to keep it on his head.
Boorkat's right forearm ends in an absolutely enormous claw that looks as though it can crack an automobile in half, whereas his left forearm is tipped in a humanlike hand. Symmetry didn't seem to be a big deal when he was born.
Age:
62
Species:
First Generation Chimera, Crustacean.
Gender:
Unknown, but refers to himself as male.
Occupation:
Mordhaben's Institute Administrator
Personality:
If anyone could understand him, Boorkat would seem quite friendly and caring. He's about as chatty as first generation Chimeras come, and has to be routinely reprimanded for constantly trying to talk because his 'voice' is incredibly grating and unpleasant. Boorkat is always found in his office on the Administrative Building's first floor, flipping through applications, writing education plans, going over disciplinary reports, and balancing the school budget. On the rare occasion that he leaves his administrative duties to another, it's generally for a school event - such as the opening ceremony, on tours, or at auditorium assemblies.
Due to his lobsterspeak, Boorkat must use a translator to communicate with non-telepathic students.
Openness: 100
Neuroticism: 30
Agreeableness: 74
Extroversion: 85
Conscientiousness: 32
Attributes:
Strength: 9
Endurance: 9
Constitution: 11
Agility: 7
Dexterity: 1
Intelligence: 5
Wisdom: 5
Charisma: 7
Aesthetics/Appearance: He's a lobster. Why're you checking him out again? For that matter, why does a lobsterman have a granddaughter?
Magic Type Preference:
Weapon Conjuration
Innate Magic Talent:
Claw Cannon
Interests:
Education
Reading
Writing
Playing Chess
Skills:
Strategizing
Speed Reading
Boxing
Heavy Weapons usage
Biography:
He's a gigantic bipedal lobsterlike first generation Chimera. It can be safely assumed that his life before working for The Institute was pretty awful. He's been working as Institute Administrator for three years now, and was an intern for four years prior, and even before that he was a student from the age of 16 onwards. Beyond that, though, not much is known and his original application is locked in a sturdy filing cabinet in the school basement, shielded by magic. Boorkat Malkin claims to be the result of some 'creative' explorers in an oceanic cavern near the western edge of the Deadlands Gulf, which he has in the past used as an example of why students should be careful around opposite-sex Monsters.
Name:
Robert Brovak
Appearance:
Robert Brovak is a slightly odd person. Firstly, he wears a burnt orange hooded robe at all times, save for at events in which he is required to wear the Institute's staff uniform. Secondly, a cloth bandage mask conceals his face, with a pair of goggles covering his eyes. Thirdly, he's very, very thin. Ludicrously so. And he makes a point of never showing skin anywhere - gloves, long pants beneath the robes, high boots, and the like cover him from head to toe.
Beyond his choice of attire, Robert is roughly 5'7" and (clothing included) weighs roughly 100 lbs. If one were to shake his hand, there wouldn't be much to shake and his joints would poke through. Dude needs to eat a cheeseburger or something.
Age:
89, or that's what his paperwork says.
Species:
Human. Allegedly.
Gender:
Male.
Occupation:
Magic Theory Professor.
Personality:
Professor Brovak is absolutely terrible at keeping his spaces clean, hates stupid questions, and despises being bothered outside of class for anything other than serious questions on magic. His office hours are only kept because he's required to have them, not because he cares about helping his students. But if a student genuinely wishes to improve their magic skills, he's the first person to talk to, as he gets incredibly excited at the thought of discussing magical theory with and training students. His mouth will not stop running if someone comes to him with a novel idea.
Just don't ask too many personal questions. Professor Brovak is severely paranoid and pushing him too much may end in him booby trapping his classrooms again.
Openness: 100
Neuroticism: 92
Agreeableness: 12
Extroversion: 2
Conscientiousness: 8
Attributes:
Strength: 3
Endurance: 3
Constitution: 5
Agility: 3
Dexterity: 3
Intelligence: 20
Wisdom: 10
Charisma: 3
Aesthetics/Appearance: Between 0 and 10, depending on your interest in creepy old men.
Magic Type Preference:
Material Magic (generalized)
Innate Magic Talent:
Earth Manipulation
Interests:
Reading
Magic Theory
Physics
Chemistry
Biology
Pranks
Skills:
Too many to list. This guy's absolutely ancient.
Biography:
He's been around for quite a while. So long, in fact, that his staff documentation smells funny and the ink is beginning to wear away. There's not much of value that can be found just by searching through it, and he doesn't talk about his personal past, even when pressured. There are school rumors that he is, in fact, not 89, but rather has been around the school's founding - but he vehemently denies this and, when asked, merely asks in return where he is in the school's historical photos if it's true.
Robert Brovak
Appearance:
Robert Brovak is a slightly odd person. Firstly, he wears a burnt orange hooded robe at all times, save for at events in which he is required to wear the Institute's staff uniform. Secondly, a cloth bandage mask conceals his face, with a pair of goggles covering his eyes. Thirdly, he's very, very thin. Ludicrously so. And he makes a point of never showing skin anywhere - gloves, long pants beneath the robes, high boots, and the like cover him from head to toe.
Beyond his choice of attire, Robert is roughly 5'7" and (clothing included) weighs roughly 100 lbs. If one were to shake his hand, there wouldn't be much to shake and his joints would poke through. Dude needs to eat a cheeseburger or something.
Age:
89, or that's what his paperwork says.
Species:
Human. Allegedly.
Gender:
Male.
Occupation:
Magic Theory Professor.
Personality:
Professor Brovak is absolutely terrible at keeping his spaces clean, hates stupid questions, and despises being bothered outside of class for anything other than serious questions on magic. His office hours are only kept because he's required to have them, not because he cares about helping his students. But if a student genuinely wishes to improve their magic skills, he's the first person to talk to, as he gets incredibly excited at the thought of discussing magical theory with and training students. His mouth will not stop running if someone comes to him with a novel idea.
Just don't ask too many personal questions. Professor Brovak is severely paranoid and pushing him too much may end in him booby trapping his classrooms again.
Openness: 100
Neuroticism: 92
Agreeableness: 12
Extroversion: 2
Conscientiousness: 8
Attributes:
Strength: 3
Endurance: 3
Constitution: 5
Agility: 3
Dexterity: 3
Intelligence: 20
Wisdom: 10
Charisma: 3
Aesthetics/Appearance: Between 0 and 10, depending on your interest in creepy old men.
Magic Type Preference:
Material Magic (generalized)
Innate Magic Talent:
Earth Manipulation
Interests:
Reading
Magic Theory
Physics
Chemistry
Biology
Pranks
Skills:
Too many to list. This guy's absolutely ancient.
Biography:
He's been around for quite a while. So long, in fact, that his staff documentation smells funny and the ink is beginning to wear away. There's not much of value that can be found just by searching through it, and he doesn't talk about his personal past, even when pressured. There are school rumors that he is, in fact, not 89, but rather has been around the school's founding - but he vehemently denies this and, when asked, merely asks in return where he is in the school's historical photos if it's true.
Name: Leonora Serannen
Appearance: Leonora is a tall and elegant woman that has put a great deal of thought and effort into her appearance. She is 168cm (6 feet) and weighs 61kg (134lbs). Her hair is long, flowing and golden and her eyes match its colour. While some would claim Leonora looks stunning without any work done, she still applies a great deal of cosmetics to just about anywhere she thinks she can improve upon. Possessing an enormous wardrobe, Leonora is almost never found wearing anything short of high fashion, though she tends to favour wearing a good pair of trousers to skirts. As a fifth generation Chimera, Leonora has only one trait belonging to her monstrous ancestors, and that is the feline claws on the tips of her fingers. She always wears custom made gloves built to mask her Chimera trait.
Age: 28
Species: Fifth Generation Feline Chimera
Gender: Female
Occupation: Staff – Mage Corps Instructor and Guidance Counsellor
Personality: Leonora speaks exceedingly politely and formally, sparing no effort to carefully craft her sentences so as to avoid causing offence. Seemingly in line with her role as the institute’s guidance counsellor, Leonora is proactive in approaching students and inquiring as to their wellbeing. Her only mildly provocative trait is that she’s been known to ask somewhat probing questions to others, even ones of a socially or even politically charged nature. Leonora is known to be difficult to read, as her default expression seems to be a pleasant smile, even when met with a difficult individual.
Openness to Experience: 56
Neuroticism: 32
Agreeableness: 78
Extroversion: 74
Conscientiousness: 99
Attributes:
Strength: 4
Endurance: 5
Constitution: 4
Agility: 7
Dexterity: 7
Intelligence: 7
Wisdom: 7
Charisma: 9
Magic Type Preference: Sensory Manipulation
Innate Magic Talent: Perception Manipulation – Making people see things that aren’t there
Interests: High Culture, Philosophy, Politics, Psychology
Skills: Eloquent Speaker, Military Trained and Seasoned, Firearms Knowledge – Pistol Specialist, Clever Tactician
Biography: Leonora was born the bastard child of an affair between a wealthy and influential aristocrat and a fourth generation feline Chimera. Initially, Leonora’s existence was unknown to her father, and her mother had never planned to get either of them involved in her father’s world. However, her mother would die of illness one day, and upon her death, Leonora’s father happened to track her down and decided to take Leonora in. Having many particularly bigoted friends and associates, her father attempted to keep her nature as a Chimera a secret, but the rumours got out, and Leonora was frequently the target of hostility from those in her social circles. Still, while her early life was not perfect, her father was always fairly nurturing, and she still lived a largely privileged existence.
Leonora attended Mordhaben’s like so many others, and while prejudice existed at the Institute, Leonora found that people tended to forget what you were so long as you performed well, and perform well she did. Leonora was not only an excellent student but also a talented mage, and graduated from Mordhaben’s semi famous for her demonstrations of ability during her time. She was scouted by a captain in the Mage Corps, who wanted to make certain that she of all people became a soldier. If you asked Leonora, she would tell you that she signed up because she wanted to prove herself on the field of battle.
She served for several years under the captain that mentored her, only to suddenly resign from the Corps following an incident that occurred on the field of battle. While Leonora has not spoken of it to anyone, those that have heard anything about it know that the captain of her unit was killed under suspicious circumstances, though an official investigation reached no clear conclusion. Shortly after her departure from the military, Leonora took up a position at Mordhaben’s as a member of staff.
Appearance: Leonora is a tall and elegant woman that has put a great deal of thought and effort into her appearance. She is 168cm (6 feet) and weighs 61kg (134lbs). Her hair is long, flowing and golden and her eyes match its colour. While some would claim Leonora looks stunning without any work done, she still applies a great deal of cosmetics to just about anywhere she thinks she can improve upon. Possessing an enormous wardrobe, Leonora is almost never found wearing anything short of high fashion, though she tends to favour wearing a good pair of trousers to skirts. As a fifth generation Chimera, Leonora has only one trait belonging to her monstrous ancestors, and that is the feline claws on the tips of her fingers. She always wears custom made gloves built to mask her Chimera trait.
Age: 28
Species: Fifth Generation Feline Chimera
Gender: Female
Occupation: Staff – Mage Corps Instructor and Guidance Counsellor
Personality: Leonora speaks exceedingly politely and formally, sparing no effort to carefully craft her sentences so as to avoid causing offence. Seemingly in line with her role as the institute’s guidance counsellor, Leonora is proactive in approaching students and inquiring as to their wellbeing. Her only mildly provocative trait is that she’s been known to ask somewhat probing questions to others, even ones of a socially or even politically charged nature. Leonora is known to be difficult to read, as her default expression seems to be a pleasant smile, even when met with a difficult individual.
Openness to Experience: 56
Neuroticism: 32
Agreeableness: 78
Extroversion: 74
Conscientiousness: 99
Attributes:
Strength: 4
Endurance: 5
Constitution: 4
Agility: 7
Dexterity: 7
Intelligence: 7
Wisdom: 7
Charisma: 9
Magic Type Preference: Sensory Manipulation
Innate Magic Talent: Perception Manipulation – Making people see things that aren’t there
Interests: High Culture, Philosophy, Politics, Psychology
Skills: Eloquent Speaker, Military Trained and Seasoned, Firearms Knowledge – Pistol Specialist, Clever Tactician
Biography: Leonora was born the bastard child of an affair between a wealthy and influential aristocrat and a fourth generation feline Chimera. Initially, Leonora’s existence was unknown to her father, and her mother had never planned to get either of them involved in her father’s world. However, her mother would die of illness one day, and upon her death, Leonora’s father happened to track her down and decided to take Leonora in. Having many particularly bigoted friends and associates, her father attempted to keep her nature as a Chimera a secret, but the rumours got out, and Leonora was frequently the target of hostility from those in her social circles. Still, while her early life was not perfect, her father was always fairly nurturing, and she still lived a largely privileged existence.
Leonora attended Mordhaben’s like so many others, and while prejudice existed at the Institute, Leonora found that people tended to forget what you were so long as you performed well, and perform well she did. Leonora was not only an excellent student but also a talented mage, and graduated from Mordhaben’s semi famous for her demonstrations of ability during her time. She was scouted by a captain in the Mage Corps, who wanted to make certain that she of all people became a soldier. If you asked Leonora, she would tell you that she signed up because she wanted to prove herself on the field of battle.
She served for several years under the captain that mentored her, only to suddenly resign from the Corps following an incident that occurred on the field of battle. While Leonora has not spoken of it to anyone, those that have heard anything about it know that the captain of her unit was killed under suspicious circumstances, though an official investigation reached no clear conclusion. Shortly after her departure from the military, Leonora took up a position at Mordhaben’s as a member of staff.
Name: Professor Zayid Leere
Appearance: Unknown
5'7"
Little is known about Leere's actual appearance, down to gender, age, skin color, and even their voice which is androgenous. Leere wears a pale face shaped mask and is otherwise covered head to toe in clothing. Their hair is silver, thick, straight, and shoulder length hanging down either side of their face. Their eye color is impossible to tell for sure through a pair of shades and even seem to change color or have no color at all the closer someone looks.
Leere's professional wear looks like a blue military officer's uniform featuring a long coat and pants tucked into long brown boots. They also wear black gloves and a slick looking military officer's hat. Underneath their coat is a white dress shirt and underneath this is a black shirt with a very long neck. Despite the neat, official appearance of Leere's uniform there are absolutely no markings of rank anywhere on it.
Leere wears no obvious weapons whatsoever and rarely if ever display their magical talents.
Age: Unknown
Species: Unknown
Gender: Unknown
Occupation: Mordhaben's Professor, Substitute Teacher
Personality:
Professor Leere is a very difficult person to read. Not only does the mask conceal expressions and distort speech but much of their behavior and statements appear contradictory. Leere also will sometimes say and do things that are plain strange. Yet at the same time all of Leere's words and actions seem to have some underlying meaning or purpose. Leere is undoubtedly very smart, giving even the most senior mages across the empire a run for their money. Some suspect Leere is even more intelligent than they let on, though why they would hide the depth of their genius is as much a mystery as anything else about them.
Leere seems perpetually amused thanks to the slight smile on their mask and the tone and way in which they speak. This is supported by the fact that Leere seems relaxed and impossible to surprise or rattle. However, Leere's true thoughts and feelings are possibly, and even likely, hidden behind that mask and strange demeanor. Their words sometimes hint at emotions that are not openly observable.
Biography: Unknown
Attributes:
Magic Type Preference: Unknown
Innate Magic Talent: Unknown
Interests: Unknown
Skills: Unknown
Appearance: Unknown
5'7"
Little is known about Leere's actual appearance, down to gender, age, skin color, and even their voice which is androgenous. Leere wears a pale face shaped mask and is otherwise covered head to toe in clothing. Their hair is silver, thick, straight, and shoulder length hanging down either side of their face. Their eye color is impossible to tell for sure through a pair of shades and even seem to change color or have no color at all the closer someone looks.
Leere's professional wear looks like a blue military officer's uniform featuring a long coat and pants tucked into long brown boots. They also wear black gloves and a slick looking military officer's hat. Underneath their coat is a white dress shirt and underneath this is a black shirt with a very long neck. Despite the neat, official appearance of Leere's uniform there are absolutely no markings of rank anywhere on it.
Leere wears no obvious weapons whatsoever and rarely if ever display their magical talents.
Age: Unknown
Species: Unknown
Gender: Unknown
Occupation: Mordhaben's Professor, Substitute Teacher
Personality:
Professor Leere is a very difficult person to read. Not only does the mask conceal expressions and distort speech but much of their behavior and statements appear contradictory. Leere also will sometimes say and do things that are plain strange. Yet at the same time all of Leere's words and actions seem to have some underlying meaning or purpose. Leere is undoubtedly very smart, giving even the most senior mages across the empire a run for their money. Some suspect Leere is even more intelligent than they let on, though why they would hide the depth of their genius is as much a mystery as anything else about them.
Leere seems perpetually amused thanks to the slight smile on their mask and the tone and way in which they speak. This is supported by the fact that Leere seems relaxed and impossible to surprise or rattle. However, Leere's true thoughts and feelings are possibly, and even likely, hidden behind that mask and strange demeanor. Their words sometimes hint at emotions that are not openly observable.
- Openness: 60
- Neuroticism: 25
- Agreeableness: 25
- Extroversion: 55
- Conscientiousness: 70
Biography: Unknown
Attributes:
- Stamina: Unknown
- Strength: Unknown
- Constitution: Unknown
- Agility: 4
- Dexterity: 4
- Intelligence: 20
- Wisdom: 10
- Charisma: 10
- Aesthetics/Appearance: Unknown
Magic Type Preference: Unknown
Innate Magic Talent: Unknown
Interests: Unknown
Skills: Unknown
Name: Emilya Vance
Occupation: Vision and substitute Magic Theory professor
Species: Human
Age: 11 (42)
Gender: Female
Magic Specialty: Magic Identification and Analysis
Emilya Vance is easily one of the most recognizable and unusual professors teaching at Mordhaben's Institute. Emilya appears to be, and in fact physically is, an eleven year old human girl. Her actual age is forty two but she will appear no older than eleven until the day she dies.
Appearance: 4'0" 78 lbs.
She has light silver hair with a bluish tint roughly around shoulder length or a little longer. Her hair is thick, fluffy, and difficult to tame. Her eyes are a lighter hazel than her brother's and her skin tone is a lighter tan as well.
Emilya is very, very cute but wears a stern face constantly and has cold eyes which can be unsettling. She wears a large almost classic conical 'witch hat' with high heeled boots in an attempt to appear a little taller. She also uses platforms in her classroom to stand as close to eye level as she can with her students. Her upper body is shrouded in something akin to a robe or cloak, while her pants are recognizably the same style as Mordhaben's uniforms, tucked into long boots. Her non-uniform outfit is mostly black with blue lining.
Personality: Professor Vance was always a straightforward, no nonsense type of person. However, since the accident that left her trapped as an eleven year old version of herself for the rest of her life, a serious attitude is the only attitude she outwardly projects. She is simultaneously bitter and resigned to her curse. She works hard to make sure she is respected based on her position and actual age and comes down hard on anyone using the words cute, adorable, or precious to describe her. Beneath this prickly exterior and her insecurity over her appearance Emilya is a surprisingly well adjusted woman, if a bit on the aggressive side. She can even be quite pleasant and fun to associate with. However, only her brother and closest friends get to see this side of her.
Emilya is more than skilled enough to create the illusion of or even shapeshift into an older version of herself. However, for undisclosed reasons, she does not do so except briefly and occassionally.
Openess: 55
Neuroticism: 65
Extroversion: 35
Agreeableness: 25
Conscientiousness: 100
Endurance: 4
Strength: 1
Constitution: 2
Agility: 6
Dexterity: 8
Intelligence: 14
Wisdom: 14
Charisma: 6
Aesthetics/Appearance: 8
Occupation: Vision and substitute Magic Theory professor
Species: Human
Age: 11 (42)
Gender: Female
Magic Specialty: Magic Identification and Analysis
Emilya Vance is easily one of the most recognizable and unusual professors teaching at Mordhaben's Institute. Emilya appears to be, and in fact physically is, an eleven year old human girl. Her actual age is forty two but she will appear no older than eleven until the day she dies.
Appearance: 4'0" 78 lbs.
She has light silver hair with a bluish tint roughly around shoulder length or a little longer. Her hair is thick, fluffy, and difficult to tame. Her eyes are a lighter hazel than her brother's and her skin tone is a lighter tan as well.
Emilya is very, very cute but wears a stern face constantly and has cold eyes which can be unsettling. She wears a large almost classic conical 'witch hat' with high heeled boots in an attempt to appear a little taller. She also uses platforms in her classroom to stand as close to eye level as she can with her students. Her upper body is shrouded in something akin to a robe or cloak, while her pants are recognizably the same style as Mordhaben's uniforms, tucked into long boots. Her non-uniform outfit is mostly black with blue lining.
Personality: Professor Vance was always a straightforward, no nonsense type of person. However, since the accident that left her trapped as an eleven year old version of herself for the rest of her life, a serious attitude is the only attitude she outwardly projects. She is simultaneously bitter and resigned to her curse. She works hard to make sure she is respected based on her position and actual age and comes down hard on anyone using the words cute, adorable, or precious to describe her. Beneath this prickly exterior and her insecurity over her appearance Emilya is a surprisingly well adjusted woman, if a bit on the aggressive side. She can even be quite pleasant and fun to associate with. However, only her brother and closest friends get to see this side of her.
Emilya is more than skilled enough to create the illusion of or even shapeshift into an older version of herself. However, for undisclosed reasons, she does not do so except briefly and occassionally.
Openess: 55
Neuroticism: 65
Extroversion: 35
Agreeableness: 25
Conscientiousness: 100
Endurance: 4
Strength: 1
Constitution: 2
Agility: 6
Dexterity: 8
Intelligence: 14
Wisdom: 14
Charisma: 6
Aesthetics/Appearance: 8
Name: Hans Vance
Occupation: Foundation professor
Species: Human
Age: 40
Gender: Male
Magic Specialty: Counterspells
The Vance family is known for being large, physically fit people, and Hans is no exception. With the physique of a man half his age Hans looks better suited to being a hand to hand or PE Instructor than the foundation magic professor.
Appearance: 6'6" 309 lbs.
The lines on his face and salt and pepper colored hair are the only marks of the younger Vance sibling's advancing age. That, and his tired hazel eyes. He tries to keep his hair at least relatively short and combed back but it is thick and difficult to tame. He also tries to stay clean shaven yet almost always has a shadow or outright stubble. His skin is a medium tan save for the lighter tone of his many scars.
Hans is very tall and heavily muscled by human standards, and in excellent health for a man of forty. Hans was a well known mercenary in his younger days and he has the scars one might expect of such a history. He almost always has his weapons and ammunition on him, and encourages similiar vigilance in his students. Said weapons include a trench gun, grenade launcher, .45 calibur semiautomatic pistol, and bandoliers of the appropriate ammunition. He prefers to wear the standard Institute uniform when teaching though he sometimes removes the coat later in the day, or if the weather is at all on the warm side.
Personality: Hans is a somewhat stiff and professional man most of the time but he does not project the edge that Emilya does. Despite his serious, no nonsense demeaner he is easily the more approachable of the two siblings.
Openess: 38
Neuroticism: 35
Extroversion: 33
Agreeableness: 65
Conscientiousness: 65
Endurance: 8
Strength: 8
Constitution: 8
Agility: 6
Dexterity: 5
Intelligence: 6
Wisdom: 7
Charisma: 6
Aesthetics/Appearance: 7
Occupation: Foundation professor
Species: Human
Age: 40
Gender: Male
Magic Specialty: Counterspells
The Vance family is known for being large, physically fit people, and Hans is no exception. With the physique of a man half his age Hans looks better suited to being a hand to hand or PE Instructor than the foundation magic professor.
Appearance: 6'6" 309 lbs.
The lines on his face and salt and pepper colored hair are the only marks of the younger Vance sibling's advancing age. That, and his tired hazel eyes. He tries to keep his hair at least relatively short and combed back but it is thick and difficult to tame. He also tries to stay clean shaven yet almost always has a shadow or outright stubble. His skin is a medium tan save for the lighter tone of his many scars.
Hans is very tall and heavily muscled by human standards, and in excellent health for a man of forty. Hans was a well known mercenary in his younger days and he has the scars one might expect of such a history. He almost always has his weapons and ammunition on him, and encourages similiar vigilance in his students. Said weapons include a trench gun, grenade launcher, .45 calibur semiautomatic pistol, and bandoliers of the appropriate ammunition. He prefers to wear the standard Institute uniform when teaching though he sometimes removes the coat later in the day, or if the weather is at all on the warm side.
Personality: Hans is a somewhat stiff and professional man most of the time but he does not project the edge that Emilya does. Despite his serious, no nonsense demeaner he is easily the more approachable of the two siblings.
Openess: 38
Neuroticism: 35
Extroversion: 33
Agreeableness: 65
Conscientiousness: 65
Endurance: 8
Strength: 8
Constitution: 8
Agility: 6
Dexterity: 5
Intelligence: 6
Wisdom: 7
Charisma: 6
Aesthetics/Appearance: 7
Name: Rayna Denzel
Occupation: Close Quarters Combat and Physical Education instructor, Unoctoc Empire Air Corps instructor, representative, and recruiter
Species: Chimera generation 4 (Water Dragon)
Age: 23
Gender: Female
Magic Specialty: Energy Conversation
Rayna Denzel is one of the most well known and popular professors even among new students. Her seemingly limitless energy and charisma combined with her high level of involvement at the school makes her one of the most memorable teachers at the institute.
Appearance: 5'6" 140 lbs
Rayna has fiery ginger hair, red eyes, and medium tan skin. She plays herself off as entirely human by wrapping her arms and legs in bandages each day, but she is actually a chimera. Her lower arms and legs are covered in irridescent light blue and violet scales. These scales are lightweight and thin but still provide notable protection from minor damage. Her hair is pretty straight but tends to feather outwards and is fairly long, at least past her shoulders. She tends to let it hang freely and a hasty ponytail is about the extent of her attempts to tame her hair.
Physically Rayna may look like a normal human but her lean muscles are stronger than the average human and she keeps herself in peak physical condition. She keeps her clothes minimal and light in good weather favoring shorts, tanktops, and lightweight running shoes. When piloting aircraft and in colder weather she adds a black and yellow hooded jacket and goggles.
Personality: Rayna is a highly active member of Mordhaben's staff as well as the school's representative and recruiter for the Unoctoc Empire's Air Corps. She is very open, honest, and approachable and tends to make easy friends of almost everyone she meets. She can be a hardass if the situation calls for it and she is no stranger to tough decisions but she prefers to be a positive motivational force.
Openess: 45
Neuroticism: 13
Extroversion: 120 (;3)
Agreeableness: 68
Conscientiousness: 71
Endurance: 7
Strength: 6
Constitution: 5
Agility: 12
Dexterity: 9
Intelligence: 3
Wisdom: 4
Charisma: 12
Aesthetics/Appearance: 7
Occupation: Close Quarters Combat and Physical Education instructor, Unoctoc Empire Air Corps instructor, representative, and recruiter
Species: Chimera generation 4 (Water Dragon)
Age: 23
Gender: Female
Magic Specialty: Energy Conversation
Rayna Denzel is one of the most well known and popular professors even among new students. Her seemingly limitless energy and charisma combined with her high level of involvement at the school makes her one of the most memorable teachers at the institute.
Appearance: 5'6" 140 lbs
Rayna has fiery ginger hair, red eyes, and medium tan skin. She plays herself off as entirely human by wrapping her arms and legs in bandages each day, but she is actually a chimera. Her lower arms and legs are covered in irridescent light blue and violet scales. These scales are lightweight and thin but still provide notable protection from minor damage. Her hair is pretty straight but tends to feather outwards and is fairly long, at least past her shoulders. She tends to let it hang freely and a hasty ponytail is about the extent of her attempts to tame her hair.
Physically Rayna may look like a normal human but her lean muscles are stronger than the average human and she keeps herself in peak physical condition. She keeps her clothes minimal and light in good weather favoring shorts, tanktops, and lightweight running shoes. When piloting aircraft and in colder weather she adds a black and yellow hooded jacket and goggles.
Personality: Rayna is a highly active member of Mordhaben's staff as well as the school's representative and recruiter for the Unoctoc Empire's Air Corps. She is very open, honest, and approachable and tends to make easy friends of almost everyone she meets. She can be a hardass if the situation calls for it and she is no stranger to tough decisions but she prefers to be a positive motivational force.
Openess: 45
Neuroticism: 13
Extroversion: 120 (;3)
Agreeableness: 68
Conscientiousness: 71
Endurance: 7
Strength: 6
Constitution: 5
Agility: 12
Dexterity: 9
Intelligence: 3
Wisdom: 4
Charisma: 12
Aesthetics/Appearance: 7
Name: Blair Stein
Occupation: Survival, Special CQC professor
Species: Human
Age: 31
Gender: Female
Magic Specialty: Summoning
Blair Stein is one of few openly religious teachers at Mordhaben's and this aspect of her life is very important to her. Tall and muscular Blair both appears and acts as the classical knight or paladin of fantasy stories; enemy to injustice and evil and a bastion of hope in an often amoral world.
Appearance: 6'4" 206 lbs.
Blair has curly brown hair tied in a low ponytail, brown eyes, and lighter golden tan skin.
Blair is an unusually tall woman considering she is only human, with well defined muscles. She is not unattractive but rather a handsome, statuesque woman, clearly a warrior as one might expect of the stereotype. During most of her time on duty Blair can be seen wearing a full suit of archaic heavy plate armor and is armed with several melee weapons considered outdated these days. She removes her helmet when teaching but keeps it nearby. The armor is a dull gold and black and is accompanied by a full cloak and scarf, usually bright red.
Personality: Blair is best described as an honorable, religious, and altruistic person; a shining example of the storybook hero. Her religion itself does not require her to be a 'good' person in the least and in fact encourages one to look out for themselves before others. Blair is the way she is because she wants to be, and if she thinks deeply about it she comes to the conclusion that protecting and being kind to others is also a good way to protect herself and what is hers.
Openess: 35
Neuroticism: 23
Extroversion: 45
Agreeableness: 78
Conscientiousness: 88
Endurance: 7
Strength: 7
Constitution: 6
Agility: 5
Dexterity: 6
Intelligence: 5
Wisdom: 7
Charisma: 7
Aesthetics/Appearance: 6
Occupation: Survival, Special CQC professor
Species: Human
Age: 31
Gender: Female
Magic Specialty: Summoning
Blair Stein is one of few openly religious teachers at Mordhaben's and this aspect of her life is very important to her. Tall and muscular Blair both appears and acts as the classical knight or paladin of fantasy stories; enemy to injustice and evil and a bastion of hope in an often amoral world.
Appearance: 6'4" 206 lbs.
Blair has curly brown hair tied in a low ponytail, brown eyes, and lighter golden tan skin.
Blair is an unusually tall woman considering she is only human, with well defined muscles. She is not unattractive but rather a handsome, statuesque woman, clearly a warrior as one might expect of the stereotype. During most of her time on duty Blair can be seen wearing a full suit of archaic heavy plate armor and is armed with several melee weapons considered outdated these days. She removes her helmet when teaching but keeps it nearby. The armor is a dull gold and black and is accompanied by a full cloak and scarf, usually bright red.
Personality: Blair is best described as an honorable, religious, and altruistic person; a shining example of the storybook hero. Her religion itself does not require her to be a 'good' person in the least and in fact encourages one to look out for themselves before others. Blair is the way she is because she wants to be, and if she thinks deeply about it she comes to the conclusion that protecting and being kind to others is also a good way to protect herself and what is hers.
Openess: 35
Neuroticism: 23
Extroversion: 45
Agreeableness: 78
Conscientiousness: 88
Endurance: 7
Strength: 7
Constitution: 6
Agility: 5
Dexterity: 6
Intelligence: 5
Wisdom: 7
Charisma: 7
Aesthetics/Appearance: 6
Name:
Malovroch the Red
Appearance:
Malovroch is an enormous creature at 10' from head to toe, with almost absurd musculature. Malovroch has a face like death itself, reminiscent of a charred cattle skull, with four solid black eyes that swallow light and defy perception, and four cruel horns twisting upwards in all directions. Its skin is like the bark of a burnt tree - rough, deeply cracked, and an ashen shade of darkest grey. Upon its back are a pair of enormous batlike wings of black hide, each with a dull reddish orange glow dimly leaking through along the wings' bones and joints. Malovroch's hands are vaguely humanlike, save for its claws, which are reminiscent of pickaxes. Like most Monsters, Malovroch's hip joints are flared out sideways, and it walks with an shuffling, stomping gait upon two 'feet', which are almost identical to its hands, though its thumbs are shifted backwards and angled outwards like a humanoid's heel. Malovroch's body is cloaked in ceaseless flame and black fog, spewing from ports around the back of its head like the fur collared capes of ancient royalty. Beneath this cloak of flame is a long tail, coated along the topside with large, jagged black scales of compacted carbon.
Malovroch's outfit changes from day to day, but it's style can only be described as 'flamboyant'. One day, Malovroch may be seen wearing a rainbow toga, and the next, a gigantic silk ballroom gown and a tiara. It only very rarely wears 'professional' outfits, and it eschews shoes on account of its feet generally burning them away within the hour. Malovroch, despite its appearance, looks almost harmless. Almost.
Malovroch's voice is hollow and guttural, rippling like the waves of a roaring campfire. Imagine standing in a dark tunnel and hearing the agonized screams of dozens of short Scottish miners miles away echoing through the mountain halls, and you'll understand what it's like to hear Malovroch speak.
Age: 4,732 Years (Carbon dated)
Species: Monster - Abyssal Fiend
Gender: Pseudo-Mineral
Occupation: Staff - Sewing and Smithing Instructor
Personality: Malovroch is almost excessively cheerful and friendly, and is always willing to lend a listening ear and offer advice. Its love for teaching is almost unrivaled, and its love for teaching often gets it into confrontations with Professor Brovak, who sees teaching as merely being a means to an end and dislikes working with ignorant students. Malovroch's love for its job and its students shines through in the way it carefully instructs struggling students on the proper ways to thread needles, how to safely handle a forge, how to deal with love troubles, and the like, and at every class, Malovroch passes out vegan-friendly, gluten-free oatmeal raisin cookies, with large oatmeal flakes to avoid the misunderstandings that come with mistaking them for chocolate chip. Its love for baking is almost excessive, and Malovroch occasionally sends bags of cookies to other professors to pass out to their students.
One would expect an ancient magical creature to be filled with a wealth of knowledge surpassing all others, but alas, Abyssal Fiends have poor memories relative to their lifespans and can only remember roughly eighty years with memory quality only being that of a normal sapient creature. Malovroch studies magic for fun, knowing full well that it won't make as much progress as other creatures with long lifespans, and knowing that it has such memory problems doesn't seem to disturb it but rather overwhelms it with joy. 'I never have to worry about having nothing new to learn!', it chirps, as it returns to the same books it's read many times before.
Malovroch is intensely sensitive, and hates seeing others being mean to one another for any reason.
Openness: 99
Neuroticism: 24
Agreeableness: 75
Extroversion: 64
Conscientiousness: 88
Attributes:
Strength: ???
Endurance: ???
Constitution: ???
Agility: 3
Dexterity: 6
Intelligence: 3
Wisdom: 10
Charisma: 6
Aesthetics/Appearance: -12
Magic Type Preference: Lightbending
Innate Magic Talent: Pyromancy
Interests:
Cooking
Sewing
Forging
Making friends
Remaking friends
Mining
Fashion
Skills:
Sewing
Cooking
Forging
Accidentally scaring people
Biography:
Malovroch was once, like the rest of its kind, a subterranean Monster living in the deepest depths of the Earth, living by consuming other subterranean creatures and growing by consuming raw mineral ores. Abyssal Fiends are creatures typically lacking any sense of human morality, altruism, or sociality, and generally live on their own as they dig their ways through the bottom of the planet's crust. On occasion, one may venture closer to the surface in search of sustenance. In Malovroch's case, it came so close to the surface that its tunnels erupted through the walls of the Rocky Gorge in what would become northwestern Mordbauvin, and for the first time, it was exposed to light other than that of flame. Granted, it wasn't much light (the depths of the Rocky Gorge would be considered pitch black by humans), but this curious, cool light intrigued Malovroch, who then began clawing its way up the walls of the abyss until, many kilometers up, the light grew thick enough for it to see the night sky. The beauty of the outer world astonished and frightened Malovroch, and in typical Abyssal Fiend fashion, it responded to this fear by lashing out to destroy it. But try as it might, nothing it could do would destroy the sky, and soon, it gave up.
Exposure to something more powerful than itself was a first, as nothing it had ever encountered beneath the surface had ever been able to withstand its magic or its claws. And so Malovroch became one of the first Abyssal Fiends to experience what we might call 'curiosity'. Malovroch explored the lands for decades, eventually losing its way back to its home in the core, and left hundreds of deep holes in the ground in which it slept during its travels. Upon encountering humans, it first tried to kill and consume them as it had killed and consumed so many other animals on the surface. It succeeded, and a small tribe of human settlers was wiped from the map, their wooden homes burned to the ground.
But it also noticed that these strange pale animals were wielding tools. 'These feeble creatures use their environment to make up for their weakness?', it thought to itself, disappointed that it had never thought to do the same. When it encountered another village, the villagers ran in fear, and it simply sat down at the village's blacksmith's forge, where it examined the tools used, the forge itself, the heat of the forge, the fuels used, and what they had made. And two days of deep thought later, with the villagers watching carefully lest it try to kill them and packing to evacuate the whole time, it picked up the hammer and began to work. The first tool it made was a pickaxe, though a shoddy one, and it offered this pickaxe as a gift to the villagers. The town blacksmith took offense at Malovroch's shoddy craftsmanship and dragged the beast back to the forge, where she taught Malovroch how to use it properly, how to shape and treat the metals, how to purify ores, and essentially everything needed for a completed product to come out in the end. And so Malovroch became an apprentice blacksmith, and learned the trade within two decades, as well as the human language of the time.
Later, it became acquainted with and befriended many of the housekeepers of this nameless settlement, who taught it all about what a home is, what families are, and how they maintained their homes and eased the workers' daily exhaustion. Malovroch was intrigued by all of these concepts and eventually built a house of its own - though its house was crude, built with untrimmed trees and raw clay baked with its own flames. Malovroch became one of the most important figures in this village, taking the lessons it learned about social natures to heart, and was known as a friend to all. Eventually, Malovroch saw fit to give the village a name: Mordhaben. Hundreds of years passed and the village grew into a proper town and eventually a small city. Then the Great War happened. Afterwards, Malovroch helped with the early construction of Mordhaben's Institute for Aspiring Mages, where it has lived for over a millennium as an ever-present, ever-caring member of the staff, though it never had any aspirations for administrative positions, and its mental faculties were lacking enough that had it wanted any power it would not have gotten it anyway.
Malovroch's presence at the Institute has always gone in cycles. Twenty years might pass as an instructor, followed by twenty years in the Postgraduate Research Laboratories, followed by a further twenty years as instructor once more. This year, in 1210PW, Malovroch has finally stepped out of the Research Laboratories and has reopened its old classroom to new students.
Malovroch the Red
Appearance:
Malovroch is an enormous creature at 10' from head to toe, with almost absurd musculature. Malovroch has a face like death itself, reminiscent of a charred cattle skull, with four solid black eyes that swallow light and defy perception, and four cruel horns twisting upwards in all directions. Its skin is like the bark of a burnt tree - rough, deeply cracked, and an ashen shade of darkest grey. Upon its back are a pair of enormous batlike wings of black hide, each with a dull reddish orange glow dimly leaking through along the wings' bones and joints. Malovroch's hands are vaguely humanlike, save for its claws, which are reminiscent of pickaxes. Like most Monsters, Malovroch's hip joints are flared out sideways, and it walks with an shuffling, stomping gait upon two 'feet', which are almost identical to its hands, though its thumbs are shifted backwards and angled outwards like a humanoid's heel. Malovroch's body is cloaked in ceaseless flame and black fog, spewing from ports around the back of its head like the fur collared capes of ancient royalty. Beneath this cloak of flame is a long tail, coated along the topside with large, jagged black scales of compacted carbon.
Malovroch's outfit changes from day to day, but it's style can only be described as 'flamboyant'. One day, Malovroch may be seen wearing a rainbow toga, and the next, a gigantic silk ballroom gown and a tiara. It only very rarely wears 'professional' outfits, and it eschews shoes on account of its feet generally burning them away within the hour. Malovroch, despite its appearance, looks almost harmless. Almost.
Malovroch's voice is hollow and guttural, rippling like the waves of a roaring campfire. Imagine standing in a dark tunnel and hearing the agonized screams of dozens of short Scottish miners miles away echoing through the mountain halls, and you'll understand what it's like to hear Malovroch speak.
Age: 4,732 Years (Carbon dated)
Species: Monster - Abyssal Fiend
Gender: Pseudo-Mineral
Occupation: Staff - Sewing and Smithing Instructor
Personality: Malovroch is almost excessively cheerful and friendly, and is always willing to lend a listening ear and offer advice. Its love for teaching is almost unrivaled, and its love for teaching often gets it into confrontations with Professor Brovak, who sees teaching as merely being a means to an end and dislikes working with ignorant students. Malovroch's love for its job and its students shines through in the way it carefully instructs struggling students on the proper ways to thread needles, how to safely handle a forge, how to deal with love troubles, and the like, and at every class, Malovroch passes out vegan-friendly, gluten-free oatmeal raisin cookies, with large oatmeal flakes to avoid the misunderstandings that come with mistaking them for chocolate chip. Its love for baking is almost excessive, and Malovroch occasionally sends bags of cookies to other professors to pass out to their students.
One would expect an ancient magical creature to be filled with a wealth of knowledge surpassing all others, but alas, Abyssal Fiends have poor memories relative to their lifespans and can only remember roughly eighty years with memory quality only being that of a normal sapient creature. Malovroch studies magic for fun, knowing full well that it won't make as much progress as other creatures with long lifespans, and knowing that it has such memory problems doesn't seem to disturb it but rather overwhelms it with joy. 'I never have to worry about having nothing new to learn!', it chirps, as it returns to the same books it's read many times before.
Malovroch is intensely sensitive, and hates seeing others being mean to one another for any reason.
Openness: 99
Neuroticism: 24
Agreeableness: 75
Extroversion: 64
Conscientiousness: 88
Attributes:
Strength: ???
Endurance: ???
Constitution: ???
Agility: 3
Dexterity: 6
Intelligence: 3
Wisdom: 10
Charisma: 6
Aesthetics/Appearance: -12
Magic Type Preference: Lightbending
Innate Magic Talent: Pyromancy
Interests:
Cooking
Sewing
Forging
Making friends
Remaking friends
Mining
Fashion
Skills:
Sewing
Cooking
Forging
Accidentally scaring people
Biography:
Malovroch was once, like the rest of its kind, a subterranean Monster living in the deepest depths of the Earth, living by consuming other subterranean creatures and growing by consuming raw mineral ores. Abyssal Fiends are creatures typically lacking any sense of human morality, altruism, or sociality, and generally live on their own as they dig their ways through the bottom of the planet's crust. On occasion, one may venture closer to the surface in search of sustenance. In Malovroch's case, it came so close to the surface that its tunnels erupted through the walls of the Rocky Gorge in what would become northwestern Mordbauvin, and for the first time, it was exposed to light other than that of flame. Granted, it wasn't much light (the depths of the Rocky Gorge would be considered pitch black by humans), but this curious, cool light intrigued Malovroch, who then began clawing its way up the walls of the abyss until, many kilometers up, the light grew thick enough for it to see the night sky. The beauty of the outer world astonished and frightened Malovroch, and in typical Abyssal Fiend fashion, it responded to this fear by lashing out to destroy it. But try as it might, nothing it could do would destroy the sky, and soon, it gave up.
Exposure to something more powerful than itself was a first, as nothing it had ever encountered beneath the surface had ever been able to withstand its magic or its claws. And so Malovroch became one of the first Abyssal Fiends to experience what we might call 'curiosity'. Malovroch explored the lands for decades, eventually losing its way back to its home in the core, and left hundreds of deep holes in the ground in which it slept during its travels. Upon encountering humans, it first tried to kill and consume them as it had killed and consumed so many other animals on the surface. It succeeded, and a small tribe of human settlers was wiped from the map, their wooden homes burned to the ground.
But it also noticed that these strange pale animals were wielding tools. 'These feeble creatures use their environment to make up for their weakness?', it thought to itself, disappointed that it had never thought to do the same. When it encountered another village, the villagers ran in fear, and it simply sat down at the village's blacksmith's forge, where it examined the tools used, the forge itself, the heat of the forge, the fuels used, and what they had made. And two days of deep thought later, with the villagers watching carefully lest it try to kill them and packing to evacuate the whole time, it picked up the hammer and began to work. The first tool it made was a pickaxe, though a shoddy one, and it offered this pickaxe as a gift to the villagers. The town blacksmith took offense at Malovroch's shoddy craftsmanship and dragged the beast back to the forge, where she taught Malovroch how to use it properly, how to shape and treat the metals, how to purify ores, and essentially everything needed for a completed product to come out in the end. And so Malovroch became an apprentice blacksmith, and learned the trade within two decades, as well as the human language of the time.
Later, it became acquainted with and befriended many of the housekeepers of this nameless settlement, who taught it all about what a home is, what families are, and how they maintained their homes and eased the workers' daily exhaustion. Malovroch was intrigued by all of these concepts and eventually built a house of its own - though its house was crude, built with untrimmed trees and raw clay baked with its own flames. Malovroch became one of the most important figures in this village, taking the lessons it learned about social natures to heart, and was known as a friend to all. Eventually, Malovroch saw fit to give the village a name: Mordhaben. Hundreds of years passed and the village grew into a proper town and eventually a small city. Then the Great War happened. Afterwards, Malovroch helped with the early construction of Mordhaben's Institute for Aspiring Mages, where it has lived for over a millennium as an ever-present, ever-caring member of the staff, though it never had any aspirations for administrative positions, and its mental faculties were lacking enough that had it wanted any power it would not have gotten it anyway.
Malovroch's presence at the Institute has always gone in cycles. Twenty years might pass as an instructor, followed by twenty years in the Postgraduate Research Laboratories, followed by a further twenty years as instructor once more. This year, in 1210PW, Malovroch has finally stepped out of the Research Laboratories and has reopened its old classroom to new students.
Nothing here yet. Can we get an artist in here or something to help with Monster pictures?
