[CHAR] Rebellion is Our Calling, and why we rise!(closed)

[Sadie]

Ritza Blaz

Race/Faction:

Human, Vanguard

Age:

24

Description:



Standing at 5'6, Ritza is a woman of average height. By outer appearances, she is striking, with blonde hair and dark eyes. Nobody would doubt that she's built like a warrior- strong, lean build with plenty of muscle to spare. However, those muscles don't take anything away from her feminine curves. She is always dressed like a soldier, even in social gatherings. It is a rare occasion when Ritza isn't dressed for battle.

Class:

Soldier

Motivation:



Ritza was raised to be a soldier by her fallen father, a former Vanguard warrior. She blames the nobles for his death as she believes it was a conspiracy. She's determined, secretly, to get revenge and have justice for him.

History:

Growing up as a single child to a widowed soldier, Ritza has has only ever known battle. She has been with her father every step of the way and has trained extensively with him. Her father had prayed for a son, but it was never in the cards for him.

So Ritza trained. From the moment she woke up, to the second she passed out from exhaustion. She was thankful that her father never once treated her as a fragile, helpless creature, as most women in their society were seen. Instead, she was taught the soldier's way: love thy king and fight for your kingdom.

When she was eighteen, her father had been called into battle. She continuously received word from him that the fight was in their favor, and he would be home soon. That never came to be. Every single soldier, save one, returned home to their family. His death was covered in secrecy and still hasn't been talked about to this day. Nobody knows what really happened.

Thanks to her training and skill set, she was accepted to be the only woman of the Vanguards. She wanted to please her father and becoming a soldier would be the ultimate gift she could give to him. However, she fights for a different battle: the king's head.

Strengths:



*Never shies away from battle
*Cunning
*Master at archery
*Seductive

Weakness:

*Ruthless
*Loyal to a fault
*Bit of an issue with authority
*Secretive



What is the most important thing to know about your character?

Being a female soldier is against the norm. She fights every day against mindless oafs who think her weak or vulnerable. Ritza is not one to back down from a confrontation, and is very determined to prove herself.

What is your character's greatest flaw?

She's absolutely ruthless in battle. She doesn't know when to stop, and never shows mercy.

Why should your character be in a position to influence an entire country?

Ritza would have the women at her back. She is able to demonstate that the female sex is capable of more than what they're currently being tied to.

Since she has also been a part of the Vanguard family since birth, she has the respect of and has bonds with the older soldiers.



Collab with @Aerandir

”AAARRGHHH!” Storming into her modest room, Ritza tossed her shield at the wall opposite her. She was seething with rage as she paced her room. Of course they would make that imbecile the General. He was a noble, after all. What better man to put in charge of the king’s soldiers? Clenching her hands into fists, her lip snarled in frustration, her eyes narrowed in on the slate wall before her eyes. She wanted to hit something. Hurt anything. But, no. She couldn’t give anybody any reason to think she was against the new leader. She would have to be the honorable, loyal little soldier that everyone thought her to be.

Ritza squeezed her eyes shut and wrung out her hands, allowing the tension to release from her muscles. Surely the king would put on some sort of festivity to celebrate the new leadership. Giving out a long, slow exhale, her eyelids fluttered open. Time to play nice. Ish. With a shake of her head, she headed back out to the main common area. She avoided the eyes of the other soldiers around her as she made her way to an open seat. Plopping herself down into it, she kicked her legs up onto the arm before grabbing a forgotten dagger from off the table. Her eyes narrowed in on the blade as her mind went rampant.

The heavy doors that lead outside banged open as a small crowd of fellow Vanguards came in cheering at the news. Surrounding Fenros as they strode in, clapping him on the shoulder and giving their complements. It was a sight to behold, again the legend made a name for himself, being the youngest vanguard to become General.

Fenros was smiling but he was mixed with the news himself. This meant he would no longer be by the Princess’s side all the time. He would now have bigger duties to take care of. He grunted a few times as he held in the pain as some of the men would jolt him just enough that the wound he received during that last attempt the princess's life.

He made his way passed Ritza and noticed the foul mood she was in. He knew her to be hot tempered most of the time, but usually when there was a celebration she was one to join in on the drinking.

He stopped next to her...just out of arm's length, looking at her. “Why so a angry? James try to make a pass at you again?” The drunk of the vanguard, always trying to get with Ritza. Usually turned into him getting knocked on his ass and everyone laughing.

She heard them before they even opened the door. Keeping her attention directed to the weapon in her hands, she ignored the drunkards entering the room. What she would give for a decent drink right about now...Maybe she should have joined them, after all. In truth, she wasn’t expecting anyone to take notice of her. The men usually kept their distance, as if ‘female’ was catching. The only time they held any respect for her was in the midst of battle- her skills were highly warranted then.

The last person she expected to gain her attention was Fenros. Biting back a snarl, she tilted her head up him. Looking him over, it took everything in her not to lunge at the man. She gave him a thin grin as her grip on the blade’s handle tightened ever so slightly. ”Of course not, General Allaway. James has learned his lesson by now, I think.” With a clearing of her throat, she moved to stand in front of him. The pair stood at almost eye level with each other. Folding her arms across her chest, she tilted her head and pursed her lips. ”Congratulations on your promotion, General.”

Fenros’s eyes narrowed as he wondered what the reason was then. Perhaps it was because of his promotion? Couldn’t be that. But she did have that tone when addressing him as General. “ I thank you for the congratulations.” He said looking at her stance, it was very aggressive, of course she was always aggressive; but it was almost defiant at his mere presence. Which never really happened before.

“Not everyone is happy with the choice of course, do you feel there is someone better suited for the position?” He asked casually. But his eyes were blunt while looking at her. He never liked playing politics. Dancing around making people happy, he rather just have things said straight to him.

At the question, her left eyebrow rose and a smirk pulled at the corner of her lips. Was he serious? She knew the ends and outs of the Vanguard. She bled for this team- her childhood spent doing nothing else but training to become one of them. Fenros had only been a Vanguard for what, a few measly years? Probably longer, but the details didn’t really matter to her. His blood was that of a noble. Of course the position would be handed to him. If the title actually were based on merit and skill, rather than your family tree…

She was never one to bit her tongue, so why start now? Tossing the dagger onto her abandoned seat, she glanced back over at the man. Ritza nodded slightly as her smirk broadened at him. ”Of course I do. But it’s never really mattered what I think- I don’t have the right parts. Or bloodline, for that matter.” Moving past him, her shoulder knocked into his. She glanced back at him, her eyes narrowed. ”My apologizes, General. What a silly girl I am to not watch where I’m going. Excuse me.” Her eyes darkened once more before she turned, exiting the room.

[Aerandir]

Fenros Allaway

Theme Song

---

---

Fenros Claude Allaway 'The Undaunted'


Human, General of the Vanguard


30





Fenros is not a large man compared to some other knights, and while he does not look it he does have a body of a warrior. He is muscular, but not bulky like most brutes. He stands at a modest 5'7" with dirty blonde hair and light blue eyes. He bares scars all over his body from years of combat for the kingdom and pushing himself beyond his limit to ascend the ranks as fast as he could. He was never one to wear fancy robes of exquisite material, preferring to wear more practical clothing. When not in normal attire, his armor (below) is what he can be found in. He found not having a full suit of armor better suited his fighting style.



This hand and a half sword (commonly known as a Bastard sword) was gifted to his grandfather from the king of his day when he was knighted and given the title of Lord. Passed down to him when he became a Vanguard. While he is trained to use this and a shield, he prefers to use to use just the sword.



Knight


Fenros was born into a noble class. However his father understood the kingdom was not for the Lords and Ladies, but for the People. This made him appreciate those who served in his castle, treating them like his own family. He knew the names of every servant, and a little about them. He also did not want his children to be raised like spoiled brats, and while at the same time training them to be knights, he also made them do some of work with the servants. Learning everything that needed to be done in the castle and doing it till they were proficient at it. This greatly influenced Fenros as he came to see the true meaning of hard work, and the hardships the peasants went through. Now he can't stand it anymore, being one of the only ones in the kingdom nobility that is disgusted with the other nobles and even king.




Like mentioned above, Fenros had a very different life growing up in the Allaway Castle. His father groomed him to take over the family estate, and values. Trained him to be one of the best swordsman/fighter in the kingdom, as his father was, in both sword and hand to hand. He pushed himself that he was already defeating other knights when he was still a squire. When he was sixteen and still a squire he participated in a battle defending one of their fortresses. His knight who was training him was gravely wounded, Fenros picked up his blade and continued the fight. Despite his inexperience in a real battle, his natural skill with the blade was far ahead most of the footsoldiers that tried to breach the wall. He was on the wall of the fortress, his back to the only door which lead to the ground. He held of the attackers till reinforcements came. Multiple accounts of his bravery and skill were passed onto the Lord of the keep who decided to Knight him then and there. Three years before the normal age of knighthood. He received his coat of arms and the name of the undaunted.



His reputation continued to grow with each battle after, Two years later he was recruited into the Vanguard, and with his skill was placed as the new bodyguard for the princess Eleanor. Here he spent a few more years, becoming close with the princess and her younger brother Prince Aaron in the process. When he was twenty-five he saved the prince and princess singlehandedly in an assassination attempt that nearly was successful. Fenros was gravely injured during this but managed to survive. He was then recognized for his service and bravery by being promoted to General of the Vanguard, answering directly to the king himself. While serving in this capacity, he was also known for his bluntness for lazy spoiled nobles, quick to call them out for their faults to the king and has been known to throw a few into the castle moats for different reasons.




A prodigy with the sword.
A formidable tactician.
He is very charismatic.
Natural born leader.
Observant.


Women, he can't help but flirt.
He has a temper at times mostly when it comes to dealing with fat/lazy/all nobles.
He can get lost in fighting, he enjoys the challenge and can at times fail to see the bigger more important picture. He tends to have too much fun while doing so.




Fenros is one to lay down his life to save a group a peasants he doesn't know. Even if he is the leader of the rebellion, he's the first on the battlefield and last to leave.


His temper while dealing with imbeciles. Usually happens in the court, or will during negotiations with a group he clearly dislikes.


As a Noble he does have some weight in the court. Everyone knows him from his deeds as a knight, and his rather blunt and opposite view upon the world. Because of this, many would hear how kind of a man he is with the common folk, and could rally the people to his banner and with the numbers of the people overthrow the kingdom.

---

---

A heavy oak door slammed open, causing an unsuspecting Lord to jump in his chair as he woke from his mid afternoon nap in front of the fire. After heaving himself out of the chair on his third attempt, he looked around to the entrance of his his study to see a man with a look of disgust on his face. He looked to see his head servant with a look of Terror as he bowed to his lord. Forgive m-m-m-e my Lord. I tried to stop him, but he would not listen to reason...

The lord knew this man, everyone in the Court knew him for his queer behaviors. It was Lord Fenros Allaway,
one of the youngest Lords in the court, and General to the king. However he was still a lower lord compared to himself.HOW DARE YOU... He started to say, but the younger Lord cut him off.

NO, How dare you! Here you sit comfortably in your castle, growing fat off the surplus of food you keep here and waste with every meal, while the king's soldiers at your borders have to ration their food to survive. Here you sit lazily instead of coming to the front like I requested with supplies and men. I am tempted to pull my men away and allow you to clean your own mess you made with our neighbours Fenros walked foward to the Lord, who took offense at him cutting him off and calling him fat, and lazy.

The Lord reached for his sword and drew it with his right hand, not having the decency to call for a duel, but slashed wildly at the younger Lord. At which Fenros dodged to the right, easily reading his movements and caught his swordhand, Twisting the right hand counterclockwise and throwing his elbow over that same hand to apply more pressure. The sword clattered to the ground as the fat lord screamed in pain as the pressure felt like his wrist was about to break.

Lord Biron... Fenros said flatly, As General to the King, I consider your lack of effort to defend your fiefdom, your brazen attempt to kill me, as an attack to the king himself. I hereby remove you from you from your seat and brand you a Traitor to the throne." With that he quickly grabbed the Lord by the collar while still holding his arm in the awkward position and rushed towards the window, throwing him out of the tower of his study...into the moat below.

Verrick

Name: Verrick O’Conner

Race/Faction: Human Ranger

Age: 27



Description: Verrick looks tiny in comparison to everyone else, standing at 5’5”. He does not have brute strength like most warriors, but he does have an athletic body, toned enough that his muscles look larger than what they are. He has a short beard, that looks unkept but is usually trimmed with one of his knifes, including his hair which is short and messy. However his face is usually never seen, covered by his cloaks cowl as he almost always has it up. If you do see him without a cloak, he appears more mature than his age. He looks larger(by a little) with his cloak. The cloak itself looks mottled as if he ran out of dye and only could do some spots. However this is the design of it and is in good condition.

Class
Ranger

Motivation: His true goal is to have the Kingdom of Cordath survive at all costs, be it through the king...or the people.

History: Verrick grew up in a town south of the capital. His parents were Woodsman. An intelligence guild that worked for the Kingdom of Cordath for hundreds of years. He was of course trained to become another Woodsman when he grew up. Getting training years before other’s normally would start. He did grow up learning that the Woodsmen were there to serve the king. When he was twelve, he was then told of an even greater purpose of the woodsman.

Verrick took to this quite easily and while normally they work in pairs, he got used to working alone. He also made a reputation for himself in the capital. So much so that he has gotten to work within the courts of the castle. While no one knows his last name, and only few heard of his first name.

Strengths:

Master of stealth
Trained since he was eight in the art of stealth, while most of it is using his cloak for camouflage, he’s learned how to walk almost silently, use shadows to his advantage, and keep perfectly still for long periods of time. Everyone outside of his guild, thinks they use black magic to appear wherever. But they use none whatsoever.

Master of the Bow.
Taught to be his main weapon, he became deadly accurate even at the distance of two hundred yards, and quick enough to fire a bow at a target five feet away. While this does not seem impressive, being able to nock an arrow, pull the bow back and fire at someone with a weapon five feet away is incredibly difficult.

Very competent with knifes.
Also trained from a young age to fight opponents with dual knifes, being able to choose whether he wanted to stick his opponent, or hit them with the pommel to stun them. Can hold his own one on one, but when multiple opponents come his way he tries to put distance between them. He does also have so many knives it’s almost comical. Stashed all over his body.

Highly observant of his surroundings
Being apart of an intelligence guild, one is required to be highly observant to pick up details, and have good memory.

Has connections all around Cordath and other kingdoms.
With all his travels, he has gained (a few) trusted friends and allies. Along with many others who owe him favors.

Weakness
Relies heavily on his stealth to fight, can hold his own one on one head on, but that is not how he operates

Highly sarcastic, blunt and gumpy
It is really hard to tell when he is genuinely angry because he seems to be like this ALL the time.

Hard to trust.
He has been burned many times by supposed friends. It’s really hard to gain his trust, but once you do he considers you family.

What is the most important thing to know about your character?

He’s a lone wolf, by character design he will disappear for long periods of time while he (gathers information)

What is your character's greatest flaw?

He can be an ass. Which doesn’t help when making friends. He also takes his job REALLY Seriously and he prefers to work alone,

Why should your character be in a position to influence an entire country?

Being apart of the intelligence force, he has access to or can get high grade intelligence. Troop movements, locations or generals….their favorite food, routines city weaknesses.

[spencerishere]

Liram Najaho

Liram Najaho

---

---

Name
Liram Najaho

Race/Faction
Born into the Veiled Ones, but somewhat beguiled by the Ouroborus and their powers

Age
22

Description
Standing at a tall 6'3", Liram takes after his father's height and looks. He has milky brown skin the color of the sands and brown curls falling just below his neck. Another oddity besides his rather pale skin color are his stark blue eyes that he shares with his half sister Elize that sets him apart from many of the Veiled Ones. With his training, he has built muscles in both his legs and arms, but his sword arm has gained the most strength. Strapped to his side at all times, his bronze Khopesh is his most trusted weapon. He's a handsome young man, but he is still set apart from his people.

Class
Foot Soldier slowly rising through the ranks.

Motivation
Liram finally knows what he can do to prove himself to his people. Maybe fighting this rebellion will finally win him the love and respect he has always craved, or maybe it will lead him to the mystical allure of the Ouroborus. Either way, he's going to find his calling.

History
Born the bastard son of High Lord Casterly and a desert Veiled One, Liram has lived an alienated life. Everything about him has set him apart from his people and his culture. His father insisted he take a family first name before retreating back to his cushy life of money and wine and even more women. Liram's mother never explicitly told him that his dad was a kingdom nobleman, but he could at least deduce that his father was not a Veiled One, not to mention the fact that he is notably paler than his peers.
He was teased and bullied as a child, called milk face and a betrayer to his kind because of his blood. Worried her child may be expelled from the tribe, his mother pleaded with the Cealla elder women to keep him and accept him into their society. They reluctantly agreed, under the circumstances that when the time came, Liram would have to leave and migrate back to the kingdom, so his unnatural disruption would be righted in the universe. But then the rebellion started, and he was given a chance to train, fight, and earn his place with the Veiled Ones.
During an early training session, some masters of the Ouroborus came and visited. Liram was immediately drawn to their abilities and glamor, and they knew it. Torn between his duty to his mother and his people and the hunger for power that lies deep inside him, he's still unsure if he should abandon the only life he's ever known and seek out the Ouroborus for guidance.

---

Strengths
Loyal • Physical Fortitude • Impulsive

Weakness
Eager • Insecure • Slow

---

What is the most important thing to know about your character?
Liram is ambitious, but not for the right reasons. It is possible he may become dedicated to the rebellion at some point, but for now, he is more focused on his own goals of acceptance and this feeling of home he so desperately craves. He will be unwavering and loyal to those who show him the same amount of consideration and respect.

What is your character's greatest flaw?
He really needs to get over his need to please others and receive praise in return. While he's not a dumb boy, a few nice words can lead him down the path of long-term manipulation and control. What he needs most is to realize that he has nobody he really needs to prove himself to other than him.

Why should your character be in a position to influence an entire country?
Despite how wrapped up Liram is with his own personal image and how society sees him, he has a lot of potential not only as an individual but as a high nobleman's son. Once people learn of his lineage, he has the ability to not only alter the mindsets of the Veiled Ones and the commoners of the Kingdom, but the royal class as well. The nobles will listen to his blood right and the peasants will see his humble beginnings and capability to overcome his vulnerable self.

---

The desert sands whipped across the cold night and splattered onto the small encampment. The soldiers huddled together around their small fires, chatting about home or women or the rebellion. Letting the heat of the flames lick against his sore back, Liram stretched his muscles out. "Milk face," one recruit called out to him. It was a young boy, maybe around 19 or 20. Though the Veiled Ones are a tight-knit people, Liram had never seen him before. He was as the color of tree bark and had a light pink scar running across his nose. "The soldiers around here tell me your father is a kingdom noble man, and that's why you're so pale."
Rubbing his face, Liram bit his tongue. "One night," he muttered to himself. "Just one fucking night." Liram knew his father was a kingdom man, but he was no royal. That was a rumor the soldiers had come up with to ridicule and humiliate him.
"Well?" the young man asked, expectant and staring.
"Sol made me this way, so this way I shall be," Liram answered easily. It was a phrase he had memorized as a child, one his mother had taught him.
"Sol makes no mistakes like your skin," the recruit retorted.
Liram could feel his fingers grip the hilt of his Khopesh. Normally he could take the usual taunts, but tonight was different. His cheeks flared with color and his heart began to beat with adrenaline. He could feel the eyes of his fellow soldiers begin to turn and watch, waiting for somebody to move.
"Then maybe Shrikant or Macea did it. It is not my place to question the gods," Liram finally responded after a tense pause. He didn't feel like fighting tonight, even if it was a wound on his ego. He had already spared so much today.
"You know what use to happen to babies like you?" the boy asked. Before Liram could even turn to look, the recruit grabbed his sword and was on his way to strike.
"We use to gut you and sacrifice you to So--"
Liram jumped from his spot, Khopesh in hand. He deflected the recruit's long sword with ease, the deafening clank shattering all conversation across camp. The boy was still in basic training, Liram noted. His curved blade hooked onto the short sword and yanked it from the recruit's hand before taking another swipe at the boy's sword hand. Wisely, the kid stumbled back, nearly tumbling into the burning embers and coals. He cursed and yelled and called it an unfair match, but their captain had already emerged from his tent and demanded an end to the violence. Liram spat before the boy's feet, the ultimate insult. This wasn't the first fight he'd had over his skin. It wouldn't be his last.

---

Elize Casterly

Elize Casterly

---

---

Name
Elize Casterly


Race/Faction
The Kingdom

Age
17

Description
Elize takes after her mother very much in her looks. She has blonde flowing hair running down her back and a petite build of 5'2". She is a typically beautiful noble child, but her bright blue eyes that she shares with her half brother Liram attract much attention and many suitors. She wears a special ring given to her by Lady Casterly in order to help control and boost her magical powers. While pictured above with her hair down, her hair is in braids or a bun the majority of the time to keep it out of her face because it breaks her concentration.

Class
Witch

Motivation
Elize needs to reclaim her father's titles and lands, for the sake of her future and her family. She has no one allegiance to either the crown or the rebels, only to her family.


History
High Lord Casterly and his wife Lady Casterly happily welcomed their third child, baby Elize, within the walls of their lavish Kingdom manor. Elize grew up in a privileged life, with little responsibility and expectation. Her eldest brother, Micah, would inherit the Casterly seat and wealth, while her older sister, Lyra, would be trained and educated to marry into another house. Elize would eventually be married off as well, but she did not receive the same pressure as her two older siblings. She easily became spoiled and fat with all her mother and father gave her. Every jewel or cloth or thing she ever desired was given right to her.
As Elize grew older, turmoil steadily began to brew in the Kingdom between the commoners and the nobles, but Elize remained oblivious in her comfort. Things progressively deteriorated, and Elize's parents argued over whether or not to tell her. High Lord Casterly wanted to keep his darling baby girl ignorant while Lady Casterly wanted to arm her youngest child with knowledge and magic. Witchcraft was an old practice among the ancient women in Lady Casterly's family, one cast back in favor of royal court life, but Lady Casterly knew enough to teach her daughter. Going behind her husband's back, Lady Casterly began teaching Elize the archaic practice at the tender age of 13. Lady Casterly was afraid that the magic wouldn't take well, as most children begin their training around 5 or 6, but Elize was a natural. She had a true gift. The way she crafted spells and charms were beyond any witch in her lineage, which somewhat concerned her mother. They began to have trouble concealing her abilities. Elize was susceptible to tempers and outbursts that influenced and affected her surroundings, making her powers all the more evident, but her father is still oblivious.
By 16, she should have been married off to another noble family, but her father was very distracted by the onslaught of out all revolution. Micah became apart of the Vanguard and died defending the royal heirs from an angry mob. House Casterly was falling apart with no son. Lyra was married off to a rich family far away, and would not come to harm as a result of a coup. High Lord Casterly has come down with a mysterious illness Lady Casterly believes is the responsibility of either the Ouroborus or the Veiled ones, leaving the two women of House Casterly to run their daily functions. While Elize promised her mother that she would only use her magic to defend herself, she is secretly beginning to hunt out her family's enemies and slowly pick them off one by one, whether they pledge to the crown or not.

---

Strengths
Honest • Magically Gifted • Loyal

Weakness
Temperamental • Apathetic towards others • Notoriety

---

What is the most important thing to know about your character?
Elize is ambitious beyond belief. She is willing to do anything to protect her family and its possessions now that Micah is dead and her father has fallen ill. She may feign the helpless young girl act, but know that she is much more powerful than she seems.

What is your character's greatest flaw?
Her willingness to do anything could easily teeter her over the edge into some improbable and risky situations. She's not eager to face death, but if doing so will save house Casterly, don't doubt that she will do so. While she has no true allegiance to either side of the rebellion, she is willing to double cross both if it means she gets to return to her old life.

Why should your character be in a position to influence an entire country?
Elize already has the noblewoman factor going for her. She can be charming and charismatic with her soft looks and tempting lips, but that is only the power of a beautiful woman. Coupled with the exceeding abilities of an exemplary witch, she could make waves if she so desired.

---

Elize wandered through the streets, a dark hood tossed over her head. She walked with precision and a fast gait but kept her head pointed down. Now wasn't a good time to attract attention. The sounds of the peasants' rebellious preachings echoed through the narrow streets, calling for the head of the king and all of the nobles as well. Speeches like this use to frighten Elize, sometimes even give her night terrors, but things have changed.
The girl arrived at her destination. It was a small divination shop called Wicca's Haven that sold small amounts of herb and carved candles that were supposedly enchanted with love spells. Elize pushed the creaking wood door open before stepping inside the musky space, the stench of lemon and rosemary washing over her senses. An old crone stood behind a counter. She grinned knowingly at Elize, revealing her greying gums. "Child," she rasped softly. "I was not expecting you for another few hours."
Elize smiled back and removed the hood from her head. Had it not been for the tie containing her blonde curls, her hair would've tumbled down her shoulders and reached past her waist. "I know, Anari, but things have become more urgent. My father has gotten worse."
The old woman nodded in understanding. She reached for something below the counter and brought out a small black bag. Elize approached and peeked inside, looking at the brown brittle tea leaves. "I am terribly sorry to hear about dear High Lord Casterly," Anari murmured. "Remember to give him this tea once a day, and he will get better."
Elize stared at the little pouch and frowned. She reached inside her pocket before setting a sizeable amount of coin on the counter. "Thank you, Anari. I will be back soon," the girl bid the old witch goodbye.
Putting her hood back on and stepping back onto the street, Elize tucked the pouch of tea leaves into her dress. The medicine had worked so far. Her father was beginning to be able to sit up on his own and breathe normally. Before, he had been so weak he could barely lift a finger. Thank the gods Elize had found Wicca's Haven.
The commoners were becoming more rowdy as Elize walked home. They spoke of royal blood running through the streets and the king's head on a spike. Like children, they screamed and shouted in delight at the thought of the king's dead body being ripped apart by their bare hands. Elize knew they had good reason to be mad, she had to admit that. But if the king came down, so would her family. She couldn't let that happen.
"Hey!" a gruff voice called from behind her as she left the larger crowds. The girl walked on, trying to ignore the man. "Hey, I'm fuckin' talkin' to you." A hand forcefully yanked her back and whirled her around.
A man, maybe in his mid 30s, gripped her elbow and pulled her close enough that she could smell the stink of onion coming off his breath. "What's gotcha runnin' so fast, little girl? Ain't you with the rebellion?" Elize's heart began to spasm in her chest. She tried twisting her arm away from his grasp, but his fist only clamped down harder. "Huh? You gon' answer me?"
"Fuck off," she managed to sputter out.
His eyes darkened. "Now, who taught you that kinda language?" The peasant's other hand came up, poised to strike Elize, but it stayed frozen in the air. He grunted and twitched his arm, but the hand refused to move. His eyes widened in realization as he looked between Elize's gaze and his wrist. He opened his mouth to scream, yell, beg, curse, but choked down his words. His hold on her arm loosened and she managed to pull away as he clawed at his throat, trying to get at least one gulp of air. "Please," he pleaded with his last breath. The crowd was too enthralled in the sermon to notice the man slowly suffocating from nothing. Elize watch as he crumpled and the light slowly faded from his eyes. There was no place for men like him in this world. Not even in a place as corrupt as the kingdom.

---

[Dusty]

Aaron Willum Cordathion

Image

Name:
Aaron Willum Cordathion, The Scarlet

Race/Faction:
The Kingdom of Cordath

Age:
19

Description:
Prince Aaron is a young, handsome man in his late teens. He’s not particularly imposing at a moderate 5’9, but he carries himself with an air of granted authority. His hands are adorned with many jeweled rings and perched on top of his crop of black hair is a circlet of gold. He’s often dressed in gilded clothes of bright red, with a falconers brace on his left arm. Strapped around his waist is an ever present sword and dagger, both ornate and clumsy due to the absurd amount of gold and jewels bedecking them.

Class:
Prince and Heir

Motivation:
To ensure there is a kingdom to rule once his time to reign comes. As much as Aaron enjoys the leisurely palace life surrounded by riches and luxuries, he knows (when the time comes) that any threat to his rule must be dealt with by the sword. Not his of course, his is for show, no, by the blood of the Vanguard and the Bannermen whose duty is to fight at his whim.

History:
First born son of the high king and first of his name Aaron Willum Cordathion was set aside from birth to be something greater. From his first gasping breath he was treated to the comforts and responsibilities of his mighty station. Only the best tutors, instructors, and philosophers were allowed to teach him in the arts and sciences. Generals and advisors filled his head with knowledge of past battles and great conflicts of both the sword and pen, grooming Aaron to be a great prince, and a greater king.

The King had been blessed with a sharp child who swiftly learned of his power and used it abundantly. At age ten Aaron took partial control of the palace estate under the steward’s supervision, running it with surprising success at a first attempt. At twelve his father began training him in matters of state, even allowing Aaron to travel alone on an important diplomatic meeting. Impressed by his son’s competence the king began sending Aaron on far more diplomatic trips, even at his young age.

One of Aaron’s many pastimes, and easily his favorite, was hunting, falconry, and riding. He grew adept at the sports, and has amassed a collection of favorite horses and falcons, and hounds. When he wasn’t on one of his trips, or working at his studies he could almost always be found in the local woodlands, pursuing some quarry or another in the company of other young nobles and ladies and his ever present shieldman Iben.

Strengths

An accomplished falconer and rider:
Hunting and falconry is the preferred pastime for many nobles, and it is no different for Aaron. He is especially skilled at training and hunting with his falcons and horses.

A Trained Tactician:
All Princes must prepare for war, as is their purpose. Aaron was trained by the best in the ways of war and battle. While he is no military prodigy, he knows his way around the battlefield.

Diplomatically Inclined:
Bribes and politicking comes easy to Aaron. Controlling snobby nobles and obstinate officials is almost second nature, after all he can do much with the Vanguard jumping at a word and the Royal treasury backing him.

Weaknesses

The Stammer:
Laughing at a Prince, even behind his back is risky, but many a cruel heart cannot help themselves when they realize Prince Aaron has a stammer. Something he is mortally embarrassed of. Arron often forces himself to talk slowly and carefully at all times, but should he speak in rapid utterances, or be nervous his stammer can resurface.

Nearly Defenseless:
What Prince leads his army from the front, and what noble crosses steel? Certainly not Aaron. While he has been trained in the basics of combat Aaron has shown little interest and even less skill at blade work. Should he not have his trusted shieldmen with him in dire circumstances, the young prince might find himself spitted on a warrior’s blade.

Precedence:
The ideas must come from him. Aaron is determined to be relevant in all his decisions, not deciding everything off the advice of a counselor. Except he all too often takes this too far, not heeding any wisdom from anyone, determined to find victory and solve problems on his own.

Madness:
Insanity creeps at the corners of Aaron’s disturbed mind, seeking to gain dominance over the young prince. Throughout the ages the kings of old whisper in his mind, seeking control. Though he is sharp witted, and not without understanding of his family’s history of insanity he might one day sink into the sucking cesspool of madness.

What is the most important thing to know about your character?
He is the heir to the throne, a truth that shapes nearly his entire identity and self-worth. Even though he is the king’s second born, he is the eldest and only male son making him the future ruler of the kingdom.

What is your character's greatest flaw?
His unwillingness to listen to the counsel of his advisors and commanders or even his father, an attitude derived from his vanity and self-assuredness and determination to be relevant and set apart from his ancestors.

Why should your character be in a position to influence an entire country?
As the Prince and future King he is a major player in the story to come.

Oneshots

Turning in his saddle Prince Aaron switched his gaze from scanning the sky and looked down upon the two men below him. The first was his imposing shieldman Iben, the six foot tall guard who swore his life and sword to defend Aaron. The other, a peasant of little consequence-that was until he got caught poaching in the king’s forest.

“Do you know the punishment for poaching serf?” Aaron spoke in slow deliberate sentences as if each word was well thought out. “A loss of limb for every animal slain, for you are stealing from the noble hunt.” Aaron looked expectantly towards the woodsmen who caught the poacher, while Iben drew his broadsword.

“M’lord, mercy! I was tryin’ to feed me family. Surely ye could find it in ye heart to forgive a hapless sinner whose stomach got th’ better of him.” The peasant dropped to his face groveling in the grass beneath the horses’ feet, tears staining his muddy cheeks. Aaron ignored the man, instead marveling at his hunter mare’s steadiness. She was new and young, and when most horses might’ve been startled by the sudden pile of filth sobbing under hoof she remained steady and unmoved. Aaron made a mental note to gift the stable hand who trained her.

“Three dead rabbits ‘ere ye lordship.” The woodsman said doing a quick count of the poacher’s kills, his rotten teeth set into a nasty grin. “That’s two feet and a hand by my reckonin’. Hehehe.”

“Or two hands and a foot,” Iben growled pinning the peasant down with an armored boot. “At your leave majesty.”

Aaron’s attention returned to the sky where a small black dot could be seen circling above. A smile played at his lips and he waved a hand towards Iben. “Yes, yes carry out the king’s justice, just over there away from the ladies and courtiers.” The doomed man’s sobs grew louder as the woodsmen and Iben dragged him away. Aaron turned towards the disturbance, a malicious light dancing in his eyes. “And oh, it just came to me. Get him home to his family with all his severed limbs, perhaps they can eat those. They are hungry after all.” Chuckling at his own morbid joke Aaron trotted his horse away, raising an arm to greet his returning falcon, a dead rabbit clutched in her talons.

~*~

“Your feet highness, remember your footwork!”

“Stop yelling at me!” Aaron, fought back furiously against his opponent, who to the trained eye looked as if he was struggling to present a challenge without striking the wildly swinging prince. Aaron’s practice blade wove confused patterns making the air hum. His feet shuffling in short clumsy steps, sweat dripping from his nose. They’d only been sparring for a short while, and already his arms were weary.

The blademaster, Aaron’s tutor gnashed his teeth in frustration, unable to truly correct the prince’s form, afraid of offending the young ruler. Not only that, but by cruel fate the Prince was born left handed. Normally the blademaster would force his students to train right handed, at least with the sword, but the prince would have none of that. The blademaster was stuck on the sidelines both literally and figuratively unable to properly train his student.

“Keep your sword up, your opponent could take your head off…” The blademaster gave an exhausted sigh, watching as Aaron’s sword dipped lower and lower. Decapitation would more than likely be the result should Aaron ever face even a remotely competent warrior. On rare days Aaron fought like a wild thing battering down any that faced him giving the blademaster hope of progress. But the very next day he would once again be fighting as if he’d never held a sword before.

The blademaster watched on as the two battled across the castle courtyard, clashing together and apart, one testing the other struggling. Then Aaron slipped, whether it was a patch of moss, or his lumbering feet the blademaster could not say, but he ended up on one knee a surprised look on his face. The prince’s opponent halted in mid swing, showing remarkable skill and self-control. Placing his sword on his shoulder he glanced towards the blademaster for instructions. Before a word of warning could be sounded Aaron’s dull blade snaked out, striking the other man on the temple. The blademaster winced at hearing the dull thud, feeling his own skull spasm in empathy.
“Haha, fool. I am the better fencer!” Aaron sneered, kicking his downed adversary who stayed where he was, holding his ringing head, a pained moan escaping his lips all memory of his earlier misstep forgotten.

Treading over his sparring partner Aaron joined the blademaster, taking a long drought from his wineskin. “How was that then?” He asked, wiping his mouth.

“You are improving my liege.” The blademaster lied, to cowardly to say otherwise.

[Kitty]

Eleanor Rose Cordathion

Name
Eleanor Rose Cordathian

Race/Faction
Originally Kingdom but leaves and joins Rebellion

Age
26

Appearance

Eleanor stands gracefully at a petite 5'4", despite being on the shorter side she was blessed with what she has been told is the body of a perfect woman. Eleanor is on the smaller side but still has some curve to her, which disgustingly gets pointed out when some lords get drunk and decide to bother her. The princess also has long dark brown hair that is always done up some intricate way, whether it is curled, has a braid, or has some fancy hair piece in it. To match her hair she has chocolate brown eyes that shine with her smile, a smile that she always tries to keep on her fair skinned face to help show that she is friendlier compared to the rest of her family. She can always be found in some sort of nice dress as her father forbid her from wearing any form of trousers even when it comes to riding her horse.

Class
Royalty - Princess


Motivation
Eleanor has always been someone who has made time to get to know everyone who works in the castle along with her personal maids and her 'ladies-in-waiting' that were there to help her and in a way be her forced friends. Despite this she got to know all of them well and has befriended most of her 'ladies-in-waiting' along with the people in the castle. Through Eleanor's friendships with people in the castle she learned of a few of the darker things that happened outside of the castle walls, the things she was blinded from. She learned of horrid things her father or brother did and would be disgusted by. As more and more of these things piled up along with things she learned from Fenros she began to want to change the way her kingdom was run. Then when she found out about a secret her father had been keeping for years... well it just pushed her to the edge and she knew right then and there she would have to take charge of her own destiny and work towards changing the kingdom for the better.

History
Born and raised a royal, Eleanor has always had a simple and easy life of luxury. The girl could get anything she wanted when she wanted it. But much to the shock of others, she didn't become spoiled and lazy like most would expect of someone in her situation. The girl simply had too much desire to explore the world and do as much as she would be allowed to.

The King decided as soon as his daughter was born that she would be a a perfect pawn for his plans and began training her in the ways of a woman, of a royal, and of diplomacy. For many of her younger years Eleanor's time was always filled with some sort of training; from tea to sewing to eating and walking properly to speaking at the right times. She became her father's perfect daughter and the perfect princess, but she didn't follow all the rules she had learned when not around nobles and her father.

The princess enjoyed not being prim or proper at times. Enjoyed speaking without being spoken to. Eleanor did not agree with a lot of things that she was supposed to be and set out to defy them, even if she had to do so in secret. One thing she did defy not in secret though, was how she was supposed to act around commoners and those below her. It was well known that Princess Eleanor was a kind and generous woman who, unlike her father and brother, did not punish the people of the kingdom she came upon for small stupid things. Instead asking them what they needed help with and trying to do her best to assist them, usually by giving them some money.

Strengths
- Diplomacy
- Speaking (speeches/motivating people to come together/etc)
- Empathy
- Natural at Horseback riding

Weakness
- Naivety
- Empathy (both strength and weakness)
- Physical strength and stamina is not very high due to her way of life

What is the most important thing to know about your character?
Eleanor holds a strong love for her kingdom and its people. Unlike most she does not view herself above the commoners, she only views herself as being lucky enough to have been born into the family she was. Which makes her believe that she should only use her power that she holds over others when it is necessary and correct time to use it. When she does decided to use said power, Eleanor has a certain way with words that she naturally came by. Her father has had her use it to motivate warriors before they set off for war or a fight and the feedback is always positive with people saying her words spoke to a different part of them and just enhanced their drive and motivation to win.

What is your character's greatest flaw?
Eleanor is much too caring and naive to the way the outer world works. She has a view that there is good in everyone even if it is hard to see at first, so she will stop to help anyone she can even if it puts her in danger. Sometimes without knowing she is even in any danger.

Why should your character be in a position to influence an entire country?
Eleanor was raised within the world of diplomacy and was made to sit with her father through court since a young age. Even if she was not going to be the one to inherit the throne her father wanted her to know the inner and outer workings of what it is like to run a kingdom as she would be the one to step in if her father needed to leave the castle to attend to something for a few days while her brother finished his training. The same would be done by her for if her brother had to leave the castle for some time once he took throne. Eleanor was basically trained to be the backup ruler in times of need.

---

Snow Day!

"Watch out!" The brunette called out with a laugh as she watched a ball of snow hit her friend and one of her 'ladies-in-waiting', Selene, in the side of the head. Selene stood in shock for a moment before looking a short ways across the snowy field to where two more of the 'ladies-in-waiting' were standing giggling with snowballs in their hands.

"Did you just!?" Selene stared, half in shock and half smiling at the two before looking back to the princess, the two making eye contact and instantly knowing what the other was thinking. The two girls took off running, stopping when they reached a nice mound of snow they could kneel behind to take cover all the while giggling. They then began to make as many snow balls as they could creating a pile of them.

When the two girls were ready, Eleanor peaked her head over the mound of snow only to have to quickly duck back down as a snow ball flew over her head. The two girls then picked up as many of the snow balls as they could and stood up. The four girls ran at each other throwing the cold balls of powdery snow at each other. They continued just throwing the snow, playing around as their laughter rang out in the field.

Eventually the four of them could be found lying down in the snow, Selene having stumbled and taken Fiona down with her. Then when Eleanor and Lily went to help them up, the two girls in the snow just pulled the other two down to join them. The four were giggling with each other, all of them trying to stop to catch their breath. They would have stayed there for a while if it wasn't for the sound of approaching people.

The girls quickly got up and the three 'ladies-in-waiting' helped the princess fix her attire and hair before bothering with their own. When they finished, they turned and faced who was approaching. Around the bend and towards the castle, which they were out infant of, her father along with his guards and some lords could be seen approaching on horseback.

Eleanor internally cursed herself for forgetting her father was returning today. When the group stopped their horses near the girls and looked to them, the four bowed to the king. "Father," she began as she bowed her head, "I see that you had a good trip." She hoped that it had been a good trip, that way he would be in a good mood.

"The trip was excellent, accept for a few commoners whom we had to remind of their place. We sure did make an example out of them for the others to see didn't we boys." The king let out a hearty chuckle, the rest of his men joining in with the king. "Don't waste too much time out here when you could be doing something more productive." Her father began as the group of men began moving, his cheeriness gone, "Also, remember that you are expected at court later this evening Eleanor." He called over his shoulder.

Eleanor watched her father leave, her stomach churning at the thoughts of what he possibly did to the poor commoners. She closed her eyes and drew a breath in, her smile returning to her face as she turned to the other girls. "Why don't we head inside and get warmed up by the fire with some tea?" The princess suggested, the others agreeing as they headed inside. Eleanor would have to ask Fenros later if he knew what her father did to those commoners, she wanted to figure out a way to fix her father's wrongs. She didn't know how yet, but she would figure something out.

Bow Training

The string was drawn back to its furthest point, the arrow notched in as Eleanor took aim for the target on the tree. She took a deep and slow breath in and as she breathed out she released the arrow. The arrow hit the target but on the outer ring’s edge causing the girl to let out an annoyed huff of air.

“Five times in a row… on almost the same exact spot! How can I be that precise yet have no accuracy!” The princess exclaimed, annoyed with how her current archery lesson was going. Eleanor walked over to the target and ripped the arrow out of it and put it in the quiver on her back before sitting on a log nearby with a huff, resting her chin on her hand. Giving little thoughts to the fact she was dirtying her dress.

Fenros was standing to the side, slightly leaning on his longbow as he tried to hold in a smile. “It’s certainly a talent El. I cannot not say I ever seen anyone who has such great grouping while missing their target every time.” He did know what the probable issue was, but he enjoyed teasing the princess a little too much.

He walked over to her, holding his own bow. He then crouched down on the balls of his feet as he looked her eye to eye. “Still it’s an improvement. I do remember that first day when you nearly shot me.”

When Fenros began to tease her Eleanor stuck her tongue out at him not caring that she came across as childish, Fenros was one of few she could truly relax and be herself around still. “I do believe I was aiming for you that time.” She grinned widely remembering her first day as well. “It is almost as bad as my first day trying to shoot a moving target where I ended up almost hitting Lord Grier on his afternoon stroll and we had to run and hide. That one I still blame you for. I told you I couldn’t see the rabbit that well but you insisted I was aiming in the correct direction and to just look for movement!” Eleanor giggled at the memory.

Fenros only smiled at her comment at her aiming for him….sometimes he wondered. When she then moved onto the story of Lord Grier. He shook his head with a chuckle...he honestly thought that was it for them that day. He then said with a slight shrug. “It’s not my fault. I saw the rabbit clearly, I pointed you in the correct direction. Though… I do see why you confused him with a rabbit. He does have some very large front teeth.” He pulled up his own lip to emphasize the statement by showing his own teeth like a rabbit.He remembered how they ran and dove under a bush near a ditch. Only if the lord looked a little to his right he would have caught them.

He smiled fondly at the memory. It was then he realized how much he liked the princess.
Standing up he offered his hand. “Let's try one more time. Perhaps we can fill the right side of the target with holes instead of the left.”

Eleanor covered her mouth as she tried to keep from laughing at what Fenros said about Lord Grier. She whacked his arm with her hand after successfully stopping the laugh, “He does not!” She exclaimed, although her face betrayed her as did her own voice as she let out a slight laugh after she hit him. She then took his hand letting him help her up, shaking her head at what he said. “Shut up why don’t you.” Eleanor gave him a playful glare as she walked over to where she shot from.

Pulling an arrow from her quiver on her back she notched the arrow and looked at the target as she took a few slow breaths focusing herself back on the target and pushing their joking aside for the time being. Eleanor lifted the bow up and drew the string back aiming for the bullseye, she was going to release the arrow when she decided to try something. She shifted her aim a bit down to the right, if her last arrow had hit up in the left corner maybe this would help. When she released the arrow and watched it fly. It hit the target, not the bullseye but also not the top left corner, this time it was in between the two. Closer to the main target. A grin broke out on her face as she looked at Fenros for his feedback on that shot.

Fenros loved it when she laughed, and enjoyed when he was able to make her laugh. Taking the hit on the arm like a badge of honor. He grinned even more when she told him to shut up. He made sure he was well behind her as he studied her stance. He noticed the shift in her aim which did make it closer to the target. He noticed a few more things. As he once again was leaning on his longbow with his chin, covering just his mouth. She turned to him with a smile and he sat there, looking at the target for a bit. Then back to the princess as she was expecting his input. He raised himself up quickly as if just catching on to what she was expecting. “I’m sorry, I can talk now? Only a few moments ago you told me to shut up.”

Eleanor rolled her eyes and gave Fenros a pointed look that said, ’What do you think?’.

“Just making sure.” He added with a large grin. Nodding to the target he then said, “It was better. But I think your grip may be a little too stiff.” He walked forward and motioned her to get into her stance. He then touched her bow hand with his, indicating the middle finger, ring and pinkie. “These three fingers need to be more relaxed. When they are gripping tightly, the tension they create can misplace the arrow just like it did." He then quickly pulled an arrow out of his quiver and aimed, holding the bow just like she did and fired. Like hers, his arrow was high and to the left. Then he nocked another arrow and looked at her, raising the three fingers to indicate that he was relaxing them. And fired once more just as quickly, the arrow hit the center target.

“Now you try.” he said nodding to her.

Eleanor got into her stance as he asked her to and listened to him carefully, when he touched her hand a confusing warm tingling sensation spread from where he touched her but she ignored it focusing on the task at hand. She watched as he shot an arrow like she normally did and then proceeded to do so after relaxing his fingers. While she didn’t think she’d do as good as he did, she was willing to give it a try.

Focusing on remembering what Fenros had just told her, Eleanor notched an arrow and drew it back. She looked to her bow hand and noticed she was gripping the bow tightly so she relaxed her three fingers like she was told to do, it felt a bit odd since she hadn’t been shooting like that, but that wouldn’t stop her. Eleanor then refocused on the target and took aim before releasing the arrow. It hit just off the center target a bit up to the left. She once again smiled, she hadn’t done it perfectly but it was definitely a lot better than before.

Fenros grinned as she instantly hit the center target. While not a bullseye it was still impressive after one tweak. He looked back to her admiring her even more. “Excellent.” He turned towards the target and cocked his head, silent for a moment. He was sure she could group the rest of her arrows into the center target now that was fixed. He nodded while he pursed his lips. “Shall we try a moving target again?” He asked. Suddenly looking around him as if searching for a target and with a straight face, “Where is Lord Grier anyways?"

Healing

Eleanor was out with the castle's healer once again, the two along with some trailing guards, were looking for some herbs for medicine. Mainly it was Eleanor looking as the healer observed, taught, and corrected the princess. It was only a few weeks after her an attempt on her life was made and on that night she almost lost Fenros. That is when she decided she wanted to be able to have the skills to actually do something and make an actual difference when it came to wounds and injuries from battle.

Shortly after returning back to the castle and when her father deemed it safe enough for her to leave her room, Eleanor convinced the healer to teach her the basics of healing magic and all that she knew about herbal medicine. It was taking time for her to catch on and get used to identifying different plants to create medicine, and just learning the basics of magic to boost her overall magical energy exhausted her on the days they trained with it. She knew she had a long way to go but eventually she would get to a point where she'd be able to help people if they get injured.

[Wick]

Anna May Smith

Name: Anna May Smith

Race/Faction: Human

Age: 25

Description: Anna May is a firm and fit young woman standing at 5'4" and a 120 lbs soaking wet. She has long, light to medium brown hair that she usually has twisted into a loose braid. Depending on the sun's position her eyes appear to be dark brown or lighter with honey colored highlights on the irises. Working at her father's Ale House she often is seen wearing long boots with pants and a long sleeved shirt and corset or vest over top of that. Although considered to be pretty she is often overlooked by the regular male patrons because she is not a whore and they are looking for immediate companionship.

Class: Regular Citizen and Ale House Owner

Motivation: Anna May wants to see the hierarchy changed because the King caused her mother's death.

History: Anna May grew up in her parent's Ale House. Her father had run it when she was little. As more people moved into the area her mother started helping out with the bar more. She had taught Anna to read and write as well as Arithmetic. She pulled her into the bar to work on her studies when she needed to. Some of the patrons had come to know the young girl and would often help her or watch her as she did her math or reading. Anna's family was considered to be very normal.

As was common for the royals the King had stopped in one day on his way back from a hunt. The king had laughed at the girl's mother for her second hand dress and worn shoes. Then he said something about the lower classes being too poor to care about. It had taken all of her mother's strength to keep her quiet but she did. When Anna's mother served the drinks to the table the king made a rude suggestion to how she might make more money. Her mother reacted without thinking and slapped the sovereign across the face hard. The worst moment of Anna's life happened next as the head of the guard at that time pulled her mother away from the king and shoved her to her knees. The guard slit her throat, killing her mother instantly and her father had had to grab the screaming child and hold her back. That was the defining moment in Anna's life.

After that Anna grew up staying far from the royal family and learning to defend herself. Some of the patrons taught her how to keep the rowdier crowd from getting too close and what to do if they did. She slowly watched her father's will to live ebb away from his broken heart. When Anna was twenty her father went to bed one night and never woke up.

Strengths: Honest, caring, intelligent, she can fight and she excels at knife throwing from years of practice at the bar.

Weakness: Anna holds grudges. She can sometimes be a little naive. She is small physically so if her opponent is large she may take quite the beating or need help.

What is the most important thing to know about your character? Anna is all heart. She loves people and animals and will always defend the innocent even if it means she pays for it herself.

What is your character's greatest flaw? Others can be used against her as a way to get her to do what she doesn't want to.

Why should your character be in a position to influence an entire country? Anna can convince people to follow her and she is fair and honest.

Writing example

Anna watched as the large drunkard pulled a knife on the card player across from him. She had been watching and had seen the smaller man pull a card from his sleeve. Anna calmly placed herself between the two men and smiled at the large man.

"Anna get outta my way. He is cheatin'!" He growled at the petite young woman.

"Chester you know I can't let you pummel him into the floor. It's bad for business." She heard the smaller man snicker in amusement so she rounded on him with a bright smile and danger in her eyes.

"You however are not welcome here anymore. I saw what you did you filthy, rotten, lying, cheat!" The smaller man reached for the pot of money on the table and started screaming when she slammed a knife through his hand impaling him to it.

Chester started laughing and Anna smirked as he took the money. The injured man yanked the knife out of his wounded hand and wildly tried to stab Anna with it. "You bitch!" He screamed at her. She was ready for him and she stepped aside grabbing his other arm as she did. Pulling his arm behind him she ran him out the front door and kicked him in the arse for good measure sending him sprawling into the dirt.

Turning to the patrons she heard the feet running towards her the instant the man's boots hit the floorboards. Anna stood still for a second and when she felt the air rushing by her ears she ducked and stepped back as she turned and used the man's own momentum against him. She grabbed his shirt and yanked him towards the bar and shoved him into it crashing him headlong into the hardest edges of the mahogany. His body's dull thud at the impact sent the wind out of him and the patrons into uproarious laughter.

Dinaeda Maddox

Name: Dinaeda Maddox

Race/Faction: Rogue Warrior

Age: 26

Description: Dinaeda is 5'9" 135 lbs. She is trim and muscular although not too much so as to appear unladylike if she so chooses. Her beautiful blue eyes are pools of crazy that many a man has fallen into. Her long blond locks are usually down or pulled back from her face but not put up. Dinaeda is beautiful beyond the average woman of the times.

"Class": Warrior- neutral can be swayed

Motivation: She enjoys fighting and will fight for whomever sways her to.

History: Four year old Dinaeda hid in a small hole her brother dug for her when their home was attacked. She was held inside with a grating he closed over top of it. When the attackers took her mother out screaming her brother was made to watch as they defiled her mother and then tortured her just as they had most of the woman in the village. Her brother was not much older than she was,maybe eight or nine years old but he kept her hidden and when they shoved a knife through her brother's stomach he fell onto the door keeping her in the whole. She was so scared that she stayed in there for several days.

Dinaeda was rescued by travelers who were burying the dead. When they removed her brother's body and found the terrified girl they had to convince her that she was safe. They raised her as long as they could but at fourteen years old she was becoming too dangerous to trust with other who couldn't fight her. She was told to leave the village. She has spent the last 12 years training, fighting and killing. It is rare that she allows anyone to get close to her. Dinaeda is assumed to be crazy. She tells almost everyone that she is a God and that she has magical powers. She has excellent skills but she is hardly a God.

Strengths: Intimidating, because she acts and looks like she is insane. Her combat skills are top notch. She is rarely matched in hand to hand combat and uses extreme measures to win. Dinaeda is fearless. She can seduce men easily.

Weakness: She is fearless. She is all bottled up inside. She has no real morals at all.

What is the most important thing to know about your character? She is crazy because of her past. If anyone got past that it would be a miracle.

What is your character's greatest flaw? She is fearless.

Why should your character be in a position to influence an entire country? In all honesty she shouldn't. She is batshit crazy.

Dinaeda had the man in a choke hold with her dagger at his throat. "What was that you wanted from me? I thought you said something about my ass." The warrior scoffed as he could barely speak but wasn't going to give in to this woman. They were weak in his mind. Dinaeda laughed in such a way that it made his arm hair stand on end. "You can't just come in here and kill me. That's not nice." She grinned and kissed his cheek as she slit his throat. She dropped his body to the ground, picked up her mug of ale and went outside.

[pandapolio]

Alexander Markos

Name: Alexander Markos

Race/Faction: Kingdom (kinda)

Age: 24

Description: Alexander has tanned skin from his days spent in the sun at sea. He has black hair cut short and slight stubble on his jaw. Alexander's eyes are Hazel, with a glint of mischief. He stands at a respectable 5'10", and weighs about 170 lbs. During the average day he wears soft boots, and leather pants. While at sea he typically copies the other sailors and wears no shirt, that does not mean he can't dress respectably. For political functions he typically wears decorative leather armor with silver accents.

Alexander Image

/hider]

Alexander after being at sea for a while. (closest to what I was thinking.)
"Class": Earl of a southern province

Motivation: Alexander believes that the people of the kingdom are the true heart of the nation. While he doesn't want a bloody rebellion to rip apart the nation he so dearly loves, he believes changes must be made. He wants to pass peaceful reforms to control the monarchs and even believes that a council of lords should be organized to deal with the day to day business of the kingdom. While not truly believing in democracy he thinks that the people need more of a voice since they are the ones that know the struggles they are going through.

History: Alexanders father had been a successful military leader and believed that all men in an army had equal importance, including the commander. He had drilled this in to Alexander at a very young age and the boy believed it fanatically. His father would find him helping the maid clean dishes and the gardener rake the leaves. His father's city loved him, and he was like the cities son. He was never afraid to talk to a new person no matter what they looked like. He wrestled with the city boys, getting just as filthy as the rest of them.

When he was about 15 his father was called on to lead troops to deal with a small peasant uprising. That was the first time Alexander saw battle. No it wasn't a battle, it was a massacre. The peasants were not prepared for the highly professional army his father maintained, or the ruthlessness they showed. The peasants had charged the army with in a frenzy. It was obvious who would win but they refused to disarm and surrender. It was over within 10 minutes, with very few deaths on his fathers side. The peasants were an entirely different story, the villages they came from were put to the torch and families split up. They were sent to all different corners of the kingdom never to see their loved ones again.

After the campaign Alexander began to take up the hobby of sailing. He would be gone for weeks at a time only stopping home to gather crew and supplies. He couldn't be near his father or that dammed city. Those people who were okay with what was happening in the kingdom, to their nation. Three years ago Alexander returned to the news that his father was dead, and he was the new lord of the fief. He immediately became racked with guilt for abandoning his father, for not being there when he died. He became determined to fix the kingdom, but not through death. He decided he would lead by example and began implementing policies to improve the life of his citizens. He has created a council of citizens to run his city, while he focuses on running the country side. Even though he hates the death of innocent peasants he has no qualms about killing those who hurt people.

Strengths:
Tactician: While he hates to admit it he is a brilliant military commander much like his father.
Sailor: Still spending much time at sea he is a great sailor and competent navigator.
Inspires Loyalty: His soldiers are fanatically loyal, because he stands and fights on the front lines with them and wont make them do anything he wouldn't do himself.
Soldier: To call him a duelist would hurt the feelings of any real sword master. What Alexander does is best for the dirty confusing mess that is a battlefield. He uses a collection of dirty tricks and brute force attacks.

Weakness:
Terrible Liar: Alexander is a terrible liar and politician. He would rather punch a manipulative lord than talk with him.
Merciful: While he is an intelligent commander he has fears of repeating what his father did, so he takes unnecessary risks to let the enemy surrender.

What is the most important thing to know about your character?
Alexander believes that an open rebellion is a stupid idea and will fight against it if civilians are caught in the crossfire. He is fiercely loyal to his country, and wants to improve it, not destroy it.

What is your character's greatest flaw?
He does everything he can to avoid the massacre at his father's hands. He will avoid death even at risk to himself, unless the enemy has harmed innocent civilians and done wrong according to him.

Why should your character be in a position to influence an entire country?
He is powerful man in control of one of the largest ports in the Kingdom and maintains one of the few professional armies.

"HEAVE, HEAVE, HEAVE" For the last three hours that had been the only noise that any of the sailors could hear. That and the sound of their oars hitting the water of course. Alexander was rowing along with the rest of his crew, straining with every pull of the oar. It had been his mistake that had caused them to stray off course in the first place. They had been planning to rendezvous with some of the other ships from the harbor for a race. Alexander was sure he had aligned his map correctly, but his first mate had picked up on his mistake....after they had been sailing for 4 hours. The mistake was small, but even one such as this put them leagues away from their meeting point. Even worse is that the wind was now blowing into the bow of the ship causing the sail to be useless. Alexander had felt terrible, because now his crew would have hours of hard rowing ahead of them. He had walked over to one of the oarsman and told him he would row for him for an hour. Ever since then he had been switching with a different rower on the turn of the hour. It was his mistake, so he had to pay for it just like his crew had to even though they didn't make the mistake. He heard his skipper call rest and glanced behind him and saw the masts of the ships they were to meet.

Alexander jumped over the railing of the ship the captains had decided to gather on. They were all in a circle getting drunk from a cask of ale in the center of them. From the looks of things this wasn't the first cask either, and probably wont be the last. Alexander nudged one of the men aside and sat down between two of the captains. He grabbed a mug and filled it with the rum and took a long drink from it, almost emptying it.
"About time you got here, we almost thought you had gone and gotten yourself sunk or something." The man speaking to Alexander was Old Gibbs, he was a smuggler and perhaps the most loved person on the coastline. He was a kind man and kept his prices low, and even payed his taxes. Alexander had met the man when he first began sailing, and though of him as an Uncle more than anything.

"Just got a little off course, nothing we couldn't handle. I am just hurt you boys began drinking without me."

"Aye, and we almost started the race without you. We were just worried you would put us in the stockades for slighting you my Lord."

As Gibbs said those last words he grinned and performed a clumsy bow, almost falling over because how drunk he was. Everyone on the boat knew Alexander would do such thing, they all just enjoyed messing with the Earl because he knew how to take a joke.

"I would have done it too you dirty crimi-."

Alexander tried to sound menacing, but broke up into a laughing fit before he could finish the sentence. He was old friends with all the men on the ship, no with all the men in their little fleet. Alexander rose from his position and stretched out.

"We better begin getting ready for the race, my steward probably is buying poison to kill me this instant."
-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
The race had been fairly successful, but not as much as he would have liked. His ship had come in third, and it was all because of his mistake. The last stretch of the race had been against the wind and his already tired crew couldn't keep up with the fresh me on the other ships. They had all said their farewells to each other cheerily. Alexander's ship began their slow journey back to port just after nightfall. Everyone on the ship was exhausted, so Alexander was taking the long way back to the port so he had the wind at his sails for a longer amount of time.

As she glided over the water she looked nothing like the warship she truly was. The ram was barely visible below the waterline only producing a slight ripple in the water a few feet ahead of the ship. Alexander had modified her over the years to fit his own needs. That meant taking much of the armor off and making her waterline higher, so she was faster. This probably what made the pirates confident enough to attack a ship flying the Earl's flag. Normally the Hawk and Spear were enough to frighten off any raiders planning to attack a ship flying it. Alexander was notorious for his crusade against pirates. This included building 20 ships from an older design from the south he had learned of while on one of his trips. They seemed to be knives cutting through they water, utilizing 40 oars to achieve incredible speed. They had been crushing the pirates and ruining their business. Most pirates had left Alexander's waters, but some still remained.

The pirates had crept up on their "prey" seemingly unnoticed hoping to catch it unawares. As they drew up next to the ship they threw up grappling hooks then waited quietly for a second if an alarm would be sent up. They began climbing and became more confident, believing they were about to capture an easy prize. As they pulled themselves up onto the deck they were met with a site they had not been expecting. A young man was standing right in front of them with a naked sword in his hand, ready and prepared. What was more terrifying was that about twenty heavily armed men were right behind them wearing the armor of naval marines. The young man looked towards the man who had led the climb up the ladder and gave him a determined look.

"Surrender now and you will be tried fairly in court."

The pirates looked at each other confused at what to do till one of them shouted,"I am not rotting in a jail cell!!" The man charged the young man sword swinging wildly. As he came close Alexander tossed the sword towards the enemies face. His opponent dodged the throw easily glancing at it as it passed by him. That was his biggest mistake, Alexander closed the distance between him and the man lightning fast and gripped the pirates sword arm, while headbutting the man in the nose. The pirate fell backwards tears crawling into his vision as Alexander rushed forward keeping near the falling man. The pirate stumbled to regain his footing, but Alexander swiped at one of the man's legs knocking it out from under him. He twisted the pirates arm until he dropped his sword. Alexander quickly grabbed it and held it to the man's throat.

"I'll ask you one more time. Surrender."

The pirate's hands shot up and he nodded. The engagement had lasted all of 7 seconds, and the pirates knew they were out matched. The pirates dropped their swords and raised their hands in surrender. Not a single man resisted the entire trip back to port.

[Raylah]

Dhaeva

Name: Dhaeva

Race/Faction: Shrikanti

Age: looks around 35, but is probably much older

Description:

image

Dhaeva looks like a typical Shrikanti woman – very dark skin, rather short and skinny. She always wears magical talismans and trinkets, some of them made of wood and stones, some of them of animal bones or teeth. She has looked the same age for years, some even say decades, maintaining her body through her magic. Her eyes are said to hide the flames of Sol, as they are bright orange, a color very unusual amongst the Shrikanti.

"Class": Witch

Motivation:
Dhaeva prefers to stay out of conflict and tries to focus on helping her people through healing and protection magic. She will fight fiercely when her people are attacked, but is quite reluctant to attack herself.

History:
Dhaeva was born as a sixth child into a poor family. Her father was a goatherd and their family wealth were a small herd of goats. Dhaeva’s mother died a few days after giving birth to her, the childbirth was long and complicated, and she never stopped bleeding after it. Because her father could hardly feed the children he already had, let alone a few days old infant, she sent her to a witch coven to raise her. Witches were reluctant to take the baby in, but when the oldest one saw the color of child’s eyes, she prophesied great future for it.

So Dhaeva grew up learning magic even before she could walk and talk. She studied all kinds of magic, but it was the healing that she preferred, partially because of the way her mother died. Dhaeva wanted to prevent that happening to other women.

Very little of this history is known to common people, as Dhaeva spends her long life travelling between Shrikanti cities and smaller settlements, sometimes spending few months in place, sometimes a few years. She has a place in every witch coven, but she rarely uses this privilege, as she prefers to lead simple life free from politics.

She has been staying in the city of Cealla for the past three years, helping other Shrikanti and surviving on the gifts she received for her help.

Strengths:
She excels in healing and protective spells, also knows some useful curses and confusion spells. She wants to help everyone and hates to see people dying from causes that could be prevented, like minor diseases or hunger.

Weakness:
She is very reluctant to use offensive magic. She helps people sometimes to the detriment of herself, giving them last food or water or using her powers to the point of exhaustion. Also, she is quite weak in hand-to-hand combat.

What is the most important thing to know about your character?
Dhaeva is a healer, not just by profession, but by heart.

What is your character's greatest flaw?
Sometimes she cares too much and that can be used against her. She will go out her way to try and save people, even into dangerous situations.

Why should your character be in a position to influence an entire country?
While she doesn’t like using offensive magic, she certainly knows her way around it. If nothing else, she can help protect her people from foreign attacks.

Writing example

Dhaeva was sitting in front of her hut, enjoying the morning sun. If you asked her, mornings were the best part of the day. Perfect balance between the unpleasant cold of the night and exhausting heat of the afternoon. She closed her eyes and appreciated the quiet for a moment.
“Dhaeva, Dhaeva!” So much for the quiet. Little girl was running towards her, calling her name.
“What is it?” she asked while getting up and trying to remember the girl’s name. Was it Sali, or Sari or something like that? She couldnt have been more than six years old.
“Our well is dry again, my mother asks if you could help us.“
Another one? That’s the third one in two weeks. “Well then let’s see what the power of Macea can do about it,“ she smiled at the girl and followed her around the outskirts of the city. Some people greeted her as she passed by. She tried to at least smile at them and remember everyone, but there were just too many. So many people and only one of her to help all of them.
Finally, they arrived to a small hut. Some more children were playing around it, from small toddlers to about age of ten. Older children were probably somewhere working, so their younger siblings had something to eat.
Dhaeva headed straight to the well. It was a typical well shared by multiple families from the area. She peeked at the bottom. There was some wet mud, but that was about it, no water. Some women were watching her carefully, as she sat down on the sand next to the empty well. Dhaeva closed her eyes and reached for her magic, mumbling prayers to Macea. Praying wasn’t necessary for this spell, but it helped her concentrate.
She spread her senses around and down, beneath the dry sand. A few years ago, any novice witch could simply reach a little bit under the surface and she would find plenty of water to fill a dozen of wells. Now Dhaeva had to reach deep to find the spring and direct it into the well. She was shaking and drops of sweat appeared on her forehead, as the well slowly started to fill with water. When she was sure that the water will find the right way on its own, she interrupted the spell, sighing with relief. Water gathering was getting harder and harder. In just a few decades, this place will turn back into a dry dessert, she thought to herself.
The children were cheering and playing around the well, splashing water at each other. Their mothers picked up some water into larger pots for cooking.
One of them headed to Dhaeva with a basket in her hands. “We thank you for your help,” she said and bowed slightly. “Here, have this in return.”
Dhaeva took the basket and looked inside. It was filled with some basic food, milk and a little bit of butter. “I thank you for this gift,” she smiled at the woman, already thinking about starving children from a family she visited yesterday. Well today, they will finally have something proper to eat.

[LordofthePies]

Fox Delta

Name:
Fox Delta

Race/Faction:
Human
Ouroboros
Position - Heart

Age:
26

Description:
Copper hair and pale skin, typical ginger.
Dirt brown eyes.
Short - 5'7"

Photo

"Class":
Fire Mage

Motivation:
Fox is trying to make up for his family sins. He wants to clear their name, even if that means not being quite clean himself. He also wants to make a name for himself.

History:
Fox's father has never been a good man. His father was abusive, a drunkard, but one Hell of a guard. That was the case anyway. Until his father was accused of murder and his name was dragged through the dirt. Throwing him in jail wasn't good enough, they had to make it so where ever his family went, they were looked down upon. Delta has spent his entire life since his father's jailing to make the family name shine again since his mother certainly wouldn't. His mother never did anything. She was a pushover, and Delta didn't want to be like her, nor did he want to be like his father. He wanted to not only clean up his family name, but he wants to make a name for himself. Fox would hate to always be known as "Gerald's Son."

Strengths:
-Strategy & Puzzle Solving (Delta was raised on puzzles and strategy games and has gained a passion for them, which has never gone away.)
-Loyal
-Resilient
-Speech
-Manipulation

Weakness:
-Paranoid (He doesn't trust anyone. Everyone is out to get him in some way or another, but he'll play along, for now.)
-Physically weak (He does not lift)
-Can't Catch (Do not throw anything to this man. He'll either dodge it or it'll hit him in the face.)
-Manipulative
-Insane

What is the most important thing to know about your character?
Delta is very good at talking, and manipulation comes at a bonus. He doesn't trust you, and it's not always the smartest to trust him.

What is your character's greatest flaw?
His paranoia.

Why should your character be in a position to influence an entire country?
Delta has pretty impressive speech skills, even though it might not look that way at first. He could definitely convince others to help or hurt each other. It's a very good skill to have, especially in a position of power, that way he can get what his people need or want.

Writing Example:
(Interaction)
Fox thought she looked pretty. No, more than pretty, she was beautiful. Beautiful in the sense that if she touched you, your skin would tingle. When she talked, your mind went numb. Fox thought for a moment he was in love, but then realized it was just a trick. She could easily be used against him if Delta let her. But those lips...
Fox shook his head. He couldn't afford to be distracted, let alone by someone who could easily get him to spill his guts. He had things to do, places to be.
But there was something about her. He couldn't look away. Her hazel eyes trapped him like a fly in honey. She was sweet, but deadly. Delta didn't want to drown in her. He had to say hello.
Fox realized he had awkwardly been standing there as he admired Elizabeth. After he realized that, the world came back into focus. He could finally hear what she was saying.

"Hey, are you alright?"

"Better than that," Fox mumbled to himself before removing himself from the conversation. He would not get stuck in her honey trap, as tempting as it was.

"Hey!" Elizabeth ran up to him and put a hand on his shoulder. Fox immediately froze. That did it. He was stuck. He never wanted her to let go. She turned Fox to face her.

"You never answered my question."

"What?"

(Combat)
Fox knew exactly how he got into this situation. He shouldn't have said yes to Elizabeth, he should've known that she would get him in some sort of trouble. This wasn't the first time he had been charmed into a deadly situation, and by his guess, it wouldn't be the last. Delta hated that his will compared to clay after he was touched by a pretty girl.
Delta stood at the top of a tour, exactly where Elizabeth had told him to wait. She said she needed him for something. Something that wasn't exactly the safest. She was right in that sense. Fox stood on the roof of a tower, being shot at by archers. He wouldn't call that a riskless job.
An arrow whizzed past his head, close enough that Delta could hear it. He had wanted to be peaceful and let Elizabeth do her job. If he didn't kill someone, there would be fewer negative ramifications on his end. Alas, it was too late now. He had been fired upon. It was only fair he did the same. (6 Archers)
Delta conjured a fireball and threw it at the nearest discernible target. (Rolls dice. 14.)
The fireball hit the wall next to the archer. The fire attached itself to the wall, burning furiously. That archer now couldn't see. That was good enough in Fox's book.
He spotted another archer, this one farther away. He sent out a firebolt, a smaller and agiler version of the fireball, towards the archer. (Rolls dice. 3.) Fox didn't expect to hit, but he did think he could at least get it close. The firebolt went far left, missing completely. The fire he just threw couldn't hit the broad side of a barn. It was pathetic.

[Nymeria]

Ryker Leonte

Ryker Leonte

Name: Ryker Leonte

Race/Faction: Human, Vanguard, but works with the Rebellion

Age: 28

Description:

Ryker

Ryker is rugged and masculine, broad-chested with muscular arms. He stands about 6 feet tall with dark brown hair that falls just past his shoulders, often pulled either entirely into a messy ponytail or bun, or partially pulled back leaving some strands loose. He has steely blue eyes with a scruffy beard and mustache. He has a set of steel plate armor he wears during battles, otherwise his everyday attire is as pictured above. He wears relatively comfortable clothes, keeping either his longsword or at the very least, a dagger on his person at all times.

"Class": Warrior/Double Agent

Motivation: Ryker has been a warrior since he could hold a sword. Through many years of service, he has noticed the many injustices caused by the King. He has witnessed many good soldiers die needlessly and wishes to see the needless slaughter end. While he has no problem fighting for a good cause, he feels that the current royalty is mindless and oppressive.

History: Ryker was born to a modest family, neither nobility or peasants. His father worked as a mercenary, teaching him the art of swordplay as soon as he was able to hold a training sword. His mother was a baker, often filling their house with delicious smells of bread and cakes.

Ryker split his time between helping his mother around the house and practice-fighting with his father or a dummy if he wasn't available. As he grew older, his time shifted more to fighting and training. When he was 13, his father brought him along on a mercenary mission. Seeing true battle only made him more focused and driven and he became determined to join the Vanguard.

He picked up mercenary jobs, some with his father, some by himself, collecting enough coin to buy himself a suit or armor and a respectable sword of his own. After several more years of work, he was finally able to join the Vanguard. He had seen his share of bloodshed before but, once he was in the Vanguard, he began to realize just how corrupt the King was. He kept his thoughts to himself at first, staying quiet and obeying orders. The dissent continued to bubble under the surface, however. It wasn't until a skirmish with the Ouroboros that he realized there were other options.

He began meeting with members of the Ouroboros to disclose information he gained about the King, his family, the Vanguard and their activities.

Strengths: Skilled Swordsman : Fearless : Strong-Willed : Perseverance

Weakness: Stubborn : Callous : Closed-Off : Detached

What is the most important thing to know about your character?
Ryker is dedicated to himself and the few people who are close to him. He is honorable and, while he is working to cultivate a rebellion, there is a part of him that feels guilty for betraying his king.

What is your character's greatest flaw?
He can be very distant and closed-off, having a hard time making and cultivating relationships.

Why should your character be in a position to influence an entire country?
He is strong, motivated and very dutiful. His word is law and he is very trustworthy to those he is close to.

Writing Example

"Vanguard," Ryker replied, eyeballing the clearly drunk man who had taken the liberty of seating himself across from himself. He himself brought a large mug of ale to his lips and took a quiet swig.

"Fuckin' Vaaaanguard..." the man slurred as he let his head swing forward briefly before looking up at the warrior with a sloppy smile. "You don't look like a Vanguard. Wa-hare is your swords?"

Ryker grunted, taking another drink before pulling a dagger out of it's scabbard. He presented it to the man before replacing it in it's sheath. He had come to this tavern to drink and relax and this man was not a part of that plan.

"That's snoo sword..." the drunk pointed, raising an eyebrow. "The fucksamatter with you?"

Ryker's eyebrows furrowed as he stared at the man. He had had enough of him. He got to his feet, downing the rest of his drink before stepping away from his seat. He began to head towards the door when he felt a hand suddenly grab his arm. Instinct kicked in and he quickly swung around, his fist making contact with the man's skull. It was the same drunk that was attempting to talk to him, now laying on the floor, his nose bleeding profusely.

Before he could say anything, another man jumped to his feet, knocking his stool over in the process. He rushed over to Ryker, hands clenched into fists and took a swing for his head. Ryker ducked away from the blow and wrapped his arm around the man's shoulder, locking his elbow under his armpit and grabbing his wrist with his other hand. He yanked the man backwards, pulling him off balance. As he began to fall backwards, Ryker sent his knee into the man's back, letting go with his arms and letting his body tumble forward.

Another came from behind to join the fight but misjudged the skill of the warrior. Ryker brought his elbow up and into the other man's jaw, causing an audible crack as his teeth clacked together. He swept his leg and knocked him clear over. As the second man fell, the first man got back to his feet and rushed Ryker. With one swift movement, he unsheathed his dagger once again and pressed it against the man's throat, effectively stopping his forward movement.

"I came here....to drink....and relax...." He spoke slowly, with breaks between words, his steely eyes boring into the drunk's. He stood for a long moment, just staring, letting the cold steel press harder and harder against the soft skin of his throat.

Finally, he released his grip and pulled his dagger back. Shooting one last glare before turning and heading for the door.

[Raylah]

Eva Gallard

Inquisitor Eva Gallard

Race/Faction: Human/Kingdom

Age: 28

Description:

image

Eva is tall, but slouches most of the time, due to her injury. She has long red hair and captivating blue eyes. One of her legs was badly broken when she was a child and never fully healed. The injury still causes her pain, makes her limp and forces her to use a cane when walking.
Eva can make herself very pretty when she wants to, which isn’t very often, mostly when attending official events in the castle. Most of the time however, she wears simple clothes and a cape, all of darker colors that help hide blood stains.

image

Class: Inquisitor

Motivation: Eva is all about obeying the law, under any circumstances. She truly believes that the royal family are the rightful rules of the country and is willing to do anything to preserve the status quo.

History:
Eva was born into a lower nobility family. She was raised as a noble girl, preparing to marry some wealthy and important man when she comes of age. At the age of 16, she was engaged with an important baron, a dream match for a girl of her pedigree. But all took a downturn one day when she took her horse for a ride around the city.

Accompanied by two guards, she didn’t expect any trouble. In a nearby forest she got attacked by a bunch of thugs, her guards killed. Eva tried to ride away, but one of the attackers shot her horse, and while falling, one of her legs got stuck under it. Her screams attracted attention of passing city guards, who rescued her.

The attackers were all rounded up and after confessing to their crimes, they were publicly executed. Even though they were just hungry peasants, who were trying to survive, Eva took great satisfaction in watching them suffer. Her leg never healed, she cannot fully bend or straighten the knee completely, or put her full weight on it, forcing her to use a cane when walking.

Her engagement was cancelled, and no new suitors were in sight. Eva’s parents were devastated, but she didn’t really care much. She became obsessed with the law, studying it day and night and then applying for a position in the inquisition.

While she wouldn’t be the first woman ever to become an inquisitor, still it was very unusual, and Eva had to work hard to prove herself. Tirelessly working on every case she was given it soon became apparent, that not only she is capable of forcing confessions out of suspects, but also in determining the truth. She found a surprising satisfaction in finally being recognized for her skills instead just for her looks and family name.

Strengths: Loyalty, obedience, great judge of character, great deduction skills, very little compassion for other people, which makes her an excellent investigator.

Weakness: She has no close friends and she is feared and hated by the common people. She is distrustful about everyone.

What is the most important thing to know about your character?
She believes in the law and wants others to obey it.

What is your character's greatest flaw?
Enforcing the law under any circumstances, no matter how crazy the law might be.

Why should your character be in a position to influence an entire country?
As a member of the inquisition she tries to do everything to stop the rebellion and find all traitors around the king.

[Wick]

Ayla Allaway

Name: Ayla Allaway
Race/Faction: Human maid in the castle /King's side

Age: 25

Description: Ayla is Fenros' sister. She is considered pretty and has long blond wavy hair. What makes her appearance so distinctive is that she has one sapphire blue and and one emerald green eye. She stands at 5'4 inches and weighs about 125 lbs. She normally wears a dress that goes down almost to her feet as is custom for women at the time.

"Class": Noblewoman

Motivation: She is torn in her allegiance. She thinks of the royal family as if they were equal to the peasants in the way that they deserve not to lose everything and should be treated kindly even though they are mentally addled.

History: Having the same parents as Fenros she was brought up basically the same way. Hard work and to be caring about all people equally. She and her brother just have differing viewpoints on what that means exactly. While her brother went to work in the vanguard, she went to work in the castle serving the royal family. Eventually she became a ladies maid and has access to the royal family at almost any time.

Their mother kept her busy learning all of the things a young nobble girl should know in hopes of a good match for her. Ayla is enjoying her time in the castle. She has grown up there so it is her home and she considers the royals members of their family. She could no more hurt one of them than she could hurt her own parents. Ayla is all heart and light most of the time but she has a temper and a stubborn streak a mile wide. She would often disagree with her brother over silly things as children but he always made sure she was safe no matter what. This was the first time they had disagreed over something so large and she was digging her heels in.

Ayla is insecure about her eyes. She is teased as a child and some of the local women called her a witch because of her two different colored eyes. She tends to keep her eyes down around new people.

Strengths: Loyal, Compassionate, and Observant. She is proficient with a bow and arrows. Knows all the ins and outs of the castle including all of the hidden passages.

Weakness: Stubborn to a fault, can not fight at all. Her insecurities about her different eyes.

What is the most important thing to know about your character? Ayla is all heart and really thinks she is doing the right thing. She thinks rising up against the royals is reverse discrimination and that it is wrong.

What is your character's greatest flaw? She is torn between her heart and her what she believes to be true.

Why should your character be in a position to influence an entire country? She thinks she has the might of right on her side. She is willing to defend the royals with her life.

Writing sample

Ayla drew back her arrow and let it fly. She watched as it hit the target better this time. It wasn't quite in the bulls eye but it was close. She laughed as one of the other girls missed the entire board. "Keep practicing Beth you will get better."

Beth put the bow down and was looking at her cut fingers. "No, it hurts my hands I don't think I want to learn it anymore."

Ayla walked over to the young girl and looked at her hands and frowned. "It looks as if your skin is too delicate for shooting arrows. You will need to practice a lot for the sore areas to callous over." Beth looked like she might cry. Seeing her pain at the thought Ayla smiled. "How about we try you on something else?"

-----------

Ayla ran to the nearest window and started shooting arrows with her bow. She was frightened and at the same time she was full of adrenaline so she was more focused than she thought she would be. She hit most of her targets. Ayla heard something right behind her and as she turned she was hit in the face. Ayla saw stars as her head bounced off of the wall behind her. Within a moment she found herself picked up and tossed over someone's back.

Mattias Hayes

Mattias Hayes

Name: Mattias Hayes

Age: 34

Race/Faction: Vanguard/King's side but will be on the side of the rebellion.

Description: Mattias is 6' 2" 200 lbs and muscular from the battles and training that he does regularly. He has gorgeous blue grey eyes that capture your attention. He is the reigning arm wrestling champ in the vanguard. He has a quick smile for those that know him and long hair. He is often seen with a short beard. He doesn't shave it often although he does occasionally trim it up.

"Class": Mattias is a nobleman (Viscount) and former vanguard warrior.

Motivation: What drives your character through this campaign? He dislikes the way that the King and most of his family treat others.

History: Mattias is determined to protect people. He thinks that the vanguard is a good way to do that. He is not interested in being one of the snobbish rich people that seem to always get what they want. He doesn't need a lot of things even though he has managed to earn a lot of prestige and money.

His parents were nobles. He could remember when he was a kid getting into a lot of fights. He would get in fights defending the younger kids from the bullies. In the end it got him in a lot of trouble but the kids loved him. At the tender age of ten years old Matt lost his mother to an unknown illness (cancer). His father started training him hard. It was his own way to cope with his wife's loss and Matt loved fighting so it worked out well. By the time he was old enough Mattias wanted to be a knight in the vanguard. He liked the brotherhood and the fact that he would belong somewhere that he could be himself.

Not long after Mattias joined the vanguard his father died. This left him as the new Viscount and in charge of his younger siblings. Mattias asked his Aunt to come and help and so she took over raising the family. The sudden death of his father put a lot of pressure on him to take care of the family. He is a very responsible man and he cares about and protects those he is close to.

Mattias is usually reserved but has a sense of humor and plays pranks on friends in down times. He has a strong sense of duty and responsibility. He is also patient but stubborn. Mattias likes to flirt with women and also intimidate men. His height, skills and power make him influential. It's part of what he does. He is also fairly blunt when you might least expect it.

Strengths: Combat and weaponry skills, Physical strength, Patience, Determination, Very Observant of people

Weakness: Women, Fearless, takes unnecessary risks, Sometimes he comes off cocky

What is the most important thing to know about your character? He would do anything to protect the innocent.

What is your character's greatest flaw? He is often pessimistic.

Why should your character be in a position to influence an entire country? He has a strong sense of justice.

Mattias watched with jubilance as the bucket of water poured all over his friend's head. He couldn't help the laughter. It had been so long since he had found the time to play around. He looked up and saw the wet man come running over the table at him. "You asshole!"

"Uh oh!" Mattias said with a lopsided grin as he jumped up and got ready for the flying tackle that would knock him to the ground. For several moments the guys wrestled back and forth trying to pin the other down. Eventually they came back to the table calling each other names and slapping each other on the backs in jest.
------------------------------------------------------------------

Mattias slashed his sword and blocked with his shield and ducked all seemingly at the same time. He thrust the sword into the side of the combatant in front of him and as the man fell Matt was already moving on to the next challenger. Up ahead he could see that one of his buddies was in trouble and Mattias raised a leg and kicked the challenger in the stomach and ran over top of him slashing at the other men in the way.

[Kitty]

Slave Master

Name
Simon Ludovico

Race/Faction
Foreigner / Neutral

Age
67

Description
Fat, Ugly, Lazy, piece of shit with a goatee that wears expensive things.

Class
Slave Master/Lord

Motivation
Money, Power, Land

History
Inherited the Slave Trade from his father and grew it to be even bigger and more powerful. Moving the trade from his old kingdom to Cordath. To get slaves he'd raid villages and kidnap children and women and if possible the men. The rest they'd just kill and burn to the ground. He goes about selling slaves to the people he knows would buy them and when not traveling selling slaves. He is at his set up 'home base' where her runs a brothel and sells goods as a front for the slave trade he runs at the 'home base'. Said 'home base' is a sort of mini town walled in located in many different places. He has many of these 'home bases' it all just depends where he wants to be for the time being.

Strengths
+ Has a lot of money and some power
+ Decently charismatic
+ Has a good amount of people beneath him (like guards and warriors)

Weakness
- Cocky
- Can't fight for shit
- Drunkard
- Gambler
- Violent

What is the most important thing to know about your character?
He is a fucking asshole and in general piece of shit. Also when they are out in public he makes it so they seem less like slaves so anyone who may be against slavery won't catch onto his buisness.


What is your character's greatest flaw?
He is full of himself and views himself better than others, including the king.

Why should your character be in a position to influence an entire country?
He already has influence over his group of people and he is rich with lots of slaves so why shouldn't he?

Masika

Name
Masika
(she has no last name)

Race/Faction
Shrikanti / Slave of Simon Ludovico who is a Slave Master, runs a traveling brothel, and has coned his way to being a Lord despite not being aligned with either side

Age
22

Description

Natural coils/curls of dark brown-black hair lay on her head, often left to naturally settle or occasionally will be tamed and braided. Along with her dark hair is a darker skin tone that has scars and fresh wounds littered on it from all her punishments through the years. Complimenting her skin and hair are her dark brown eyes that when the light shines just right, appear to have flakes of honey-gold in them. Masika is also always seen with a slave collar on, one that matches the collars of all the other slaves Master Ludovico owns.

Class
Slave

Motivation
Hope. Hope that one-day freedom will come for those owned by Master Ludovico.

History
Born a slave, Masika was the daughter of Master Ludovico's first translator who was married to another slave and had been prior to becoming a slave. Her father was executed before she was born so she never had the chance to get to know him but she had the chance to know her mother and her brother.

As she grew older, her mother taught her all the different languages she knew and her brother taught her how to fight with daggers in secret because he wanted his baby sister to be able to protect herself. Her brother knew how to fight himself because he was a low guard, which were guards that were all slaves and were the ones that would always be the first to go in the event that something were to happen.

The slave life is about as bad as you can imagine, they were treated horribly and she watched as many of the people she knew were sold off, raped, killed, and tortured for the pleasure of others. Masika can remember many times where for small reasons she received punishment knowing it was truly just for the enjoyment of the master and his men. But she also knew in her earlier years she had it better than others, that was until her brother was caught teaching her how to use daggers when she was 14. That is when it all went down hill.

Masika was tortured and then forced to watch her brother be tortured to death. A year later her mother mistranslated something and insulted someone, Masika luckily fixed the problem but it was too late for her mother. What they did to her mother before killing her she dare not speak of. From then on, she became the translator for Master Ludovico but also was forced to work in his brothel from time to time for when foreigners visited the brothel, as she was one of the only people who could speak the different languages.

After watching what happened to her brother and mother Masika has vowed to try and not let that happen to other families and since she knows the Master Ludovico can't kill her as she is his translator and general spokesperson, she will take the blame for things others may have done on accident and receive the punishment to save them from the pain.

Strengths
+ Ability to speak multiple languages
+ Bravery even in the face of possible death
+ Knowledge and skill in fighting with daggers

Weakness
+ Can't write or read
+ Protectiveness of those who can't protect themselves
+ Sees herself as unworthy

What is the most important thing to know about your character?
Masika willingly will put herself in the line of danger to protect others, she would rather see others healthy and happy while she takes the pain and the punishment.

What is your character's greatest flaw?
Her inner feeling that she isn't actually worthy of more than a slave life despite believing other slaves are. She at times believes she doesn't deserve better or more because she was born a slave.

Why should your character be in a position to influence an entire country?
She has experienced the darkness in the world and everything that is wrong. Yet she has survived through it all and it just continues to make her stronger.

[Joker892]

My Hider

Name: Victor Crow

Race/Faction: Human. The Vanguard.

Age: 24

Description:

My Hider

Beneath Victors armor stands a rather pale skinned man that reaches about 6'1 and weaighs close to 220lbs. His face is somewhat scruffy and mostly covered with dirt as a thin un-kept beard lays there. A scar runs down over his right cheek and his eyes are a dull grey while his short messy hair is a dark brown. It's rare to see Victor without his armor on, but when he's not wearing it he mostly just stays with a thin white shirt, leather pants and leather boots.

"Class": Knight.

Motivation: To serve the throne with honor and send the kings enemies to their cold graves.

History: Victor doesn't know much of his village since he was only a toddler when it was attacked by bloodthirsty raiders. He would have died within that village had it not been for a group of the kings knights that were chasing the raiders down on his orders. After the raiders were defeated Victor and other newly made orphans were taken in by the knights and brought back to the capital. It was honestly a stroke of luck for Victor and his fellow orphans to be saved. Victor and the others were soon taken in and at the right ages of 10 began their training. Their training to become proper members of the kings Vanguard.

It was a brutal and deadly start to Victors childhood, but to this day he is honestly thankful for it all. All of the abuse and injuries has made him into a real warrior of the throne. He will forever be indebted to the throne for giving him a chance to prove his worth. As Victor reached the age of 17 he was put into command of a small group that happened to be his fellow orphans of his home village. It was a bit of a shocker for Victor, but he was told he managed to gain his position because of his skills in leadership and strategy. He was hesitant at first, but he quickly adjusted and took command. It was only a group of 6 good men, but Victor was proud and thankful to be their leader. A week after his new position they were sent out to hunt down a band of deserters that killed a noble family and fled. It took a two weeks to catch up with the deserters, but they managed to ambush the weary party and were quick to kill them off. As the last of the deserters were killed Victor came across a few scrolls that held clear and hard evidence that the noble was given the right to enslave and kill as he wished by the king. With no hesitation Victor burned the evidence with the headless bodies of the deserters and returned back to the king with the traitors heads.

Today Victor continues to lead his small party and is as loyal to the throne as ever. He is simply another dog of the king and he is honestly happy with that. He will serve his throne along side his fellow dogs and protect his home.

Strengths: Excellent swordsman, leader, strategist, loyal and fearless.

Weakness: Short tempered, stubborn, reckless and not very sociable.

What is the most important thing to know about your character?

Victor may gladly kill and die for the throne, but he will also go out of his way to aid the kingdoms people if they are in danger. He was trained to be not only a guard dog of the throne, but to also protect its people.

What is your character's greatest flaw?

Victor is quick to give up his life to ensure victory.

Why should your character be in a position to influence an entire country?

He is a skilled warrior ready to lead an army and destroy his enemies.

My Hider

"Archers! Loose!" Victor roared as he raised his sword high above his head. In an instant a flurry of flaming arrows shot passed him and hurtled down to the beach below them as several ships of raiders landed. Howls of dread and pain echoed as many raiders met their fate from the unmerciful wave of arrows. Victor couldn't help but smirk under his helmet before he looked to a near by Sargent. "Take command here, have them continue their barrage onto the raiders main forces before turning their fire on the ships landing with renforcements," he ordered. The Sargent saluted and began barking orders to the archers who were already prepared for their next volley.

Victor quickly made his way to his men who were standing at the ready with the attacking wave of men that were to take on the raiders head on. His men looked eager to stain their blades and Victor gladly took his place with them as they awaited the signal to attack. After what felt like forever a horn filled the air and Victor was the first to bolt down towards the beach. The war cry of a hundred men, including his own boomed through the air. The ground seemed to shake and Victors men were quick to come to his side as the neared the poorly maintained invading party. With a savage look of bloodlust the raiders charged forward with their own war cry and both armies soon clashed. Victor ducked under a raiders axe and tore his sword across the raiders exposed belly. The raider cried out in pain before one of Victors men finished him with a hard blow with a mace.

Victor continued on to drive his sword into another raiders chest before head butting another who tried to bring a hammer down on his skull. He kicked the raider from his sword with a grunt and roared as he drove his sword into the other raiders shoulder. The raider howled in pain and pleaded for mercy in a foreign language, but Victor simple pushed down his sword and made it to the raiders chest before he yanked it free from the mans torn flesh. He paid the gagging raider no mind as he turned to see his men and other allied forces easily driving the poorly maintained attackers back toward the burning ships that had just landed. Screams of death and cries of mercy filled the chaotic air, but Victor simply watched with a sigh. The battle was already won, this was just an excuse to wet their blades with blood. A groan came from below Victor and he looked down to see a struggling raider with a spear in his gut. He looked rather young, maybe in his late teens, and glared up to victor as he spat hateful words towards Victor in a foreign language. Victor only shook his head and planted his boot onto the dying mans chest as he grasped the spear within his gut.

"We may not understand each other, but know that you and your filthy brothers in arms died for nothing. You will burn in in hell without the pride of victory and howl in dread knowing you were cut down as nothing more than a rabid dog," he spat as he slowly twisted the spear with in the young raiders gut. "You, a rabid band of dogs were killed by proper dogs of war," he finished before driving the spear deeper into his gut. Like a hammer hitting a nail the body went limp and the life drained from the raiders eyes. As Victor stared down at the corpse a horn sounded within the air and he looked up to see several of his comrades cheering in victory as they watched the retreating ships burn as the kings navy surrounded them. He smiled with pride and tuned to leave the beach with a chuckle. Victors men were quick to join his side and together the small group of orphaned soldiers of the Vanguard marched off to deliver their king the news of their victory.

[AtomicNut]

Guildmaster Raven

Name: Guildmaster Raven. - Formely known as Markus Cordathion

Race/Faction: Wayfarer's Guild

Age: Over 200 year old. Appears to be in his early thirties.

Description: Master Raven is a tall, lanky man that is pure sinew and vitality. He has a rather charming, youthful face, with a small beard he keeps neatly trimmed. He posseses blue eyes that give alway an air of a quiet philosopher. Some scars mar his skin and face, but that only add to the rough looks of his character. He has a suave voice, and walks with great grace, like an overgrown cat. He usually wears simple but comfortable leather clothes, but he can don readily armor if it requires him to do so. While he technically can don a full plate if the situation requires it, he is more comfortable with leather armors and the lightweight equipment.

pic

"Class": Wayfarer (Adventurer)

Motivation: What drives your character through this campaign? Regret to have let things degrade to this point.

History: Markus was born in the highest cradle one could dream of. Being the third son of a king. His early life was spent among luxury and stern teachings. But since from an early age he felt... he was different. While he didn't neglect his lessons in education and swordsmanship, there was always the nagging feeling to look at the light that filtered through the richly decorated windows of the palace. He felt that instead of luxury, his fate was to live in a gilded cage. The situation exploded in his teenage years, when he met a beatiful but half-blood fortuneteller and witch named Mirath, and he began to court her. Of course the situation was seen as an outrage, so the young prince eloped with Mirath. He was young and stupid, and he pressed his luck a bit too far. His name was struck from History, and the King declared his defiant son dead.

Markus felt it was a blessing in disguise. He finally found himself able to breathe freely and find his own destiny along his soulmate. Except...it wasn't all that easy. Both were outcasts who tried to scrape by taking oddjobs. Nevertheless, they never felt unhappy. They had eachother. They shared every secret to themselves, including the secret of eternal youth and Mirath's magic. Markus was surprised that he had a sizeable magical talent, and he took his lessons readily. Life seemed happy for the wandering couple, until Mirath decided that when she was heavy with child, she wanted to at least visit her mother in Cealla, being half Shrikanti herself. Markus had his reservations, recalling the insular nature of her people, but relented.

In Cealla, her wife and child died. Not because of hatred, but because of a random accident with a carriage out of control. No real culprit. No focus of revenge. Markus soon spiraled into a drunken stupor, and tried to drink himself to death in the same city. It was in one of his drunk rages when he picked a fight that he couldn't win. His opponent was of great talent, of a level he had never seen in his life, all while he stroke his magnificent beard. He moved the staff like a quarterstaff, and he could punch like a brawler. He could do magic aswell, as he did to heal Markus' broken bones. The old man, known as Zarius, was the Guildmaster of the Wayfarer's guild, and took the wrecked Markus under his wing, as he had seen talent in the drunken prince.

Markus grew to like the lifestyle of adventuring. He found his life calling. Ever on the road, under the infinite stars. Each day a new challenge. Each day a new adventure. He lived on despite his loss, and when old Zarius finally breathed his last, his comrades at the guild elected him as the next Guildmaster. He was very reluctant to take the spot at first, but finally relented. Christening himself as Master Raven ("Raven" being his Wayfarer nickname), he returned to the capital after long last. Much to his chagrin he wasn't recognized, and he liked to keep it that way.

Strengths: Good Fighter, Cunning, Survivor, Experienced, Magic Talent

Weakness: Callous, Uncommitted, Lone Wolf, Hedonist, Troll

What is the most important thing to know about your character?
Born as prince, but lives his life as a rogue in search of adventure.

What is your character's greatest flaw?

Probably his inability to commit to positions of much responsibility.

Why should your character be in a position to influence an entire country?

Because probably everyone else is crazy with power or has hidden agendas.

[Nymeria]

Ferran Russinov

Name: Ferran Emery Russinov

Race/Faction: Human - Wayfarer's Guild

Age: 30

Description:

Ferran

Ferran is relatively tall, standing about 6 feet. He has broad shoulders with exceptional upper body strength through many years of work with bows. His hair is a icy blond, almost gray, and falls just above his shoulders. His eyes are a dark greenish grey. His body has various scars of varying sizes and depth from years of hard living. He wears light-weight clothes that are easy to move in with a suit of leather armor, when needed. Otherwise, he travels fairly light with his trusty bow and arrows always on hand and a pair of daggers in case fighting gets too close to use arrows.

"Class": Archer, Rogue

Motivation: Money and the promise of money. Does it pay well? He'll do it.

History: Ferran began his life in a small village with only his mother for family. When he was five years old, his mother met another man who ended up getting her pregnant. Ferran wasn't fond of the new arrangement, but he was too young to do much of anything about it. His mother ended up dying during childbirth of his half-sister. Too young to live on his own, and having nothing but disdain for the man who caused his mother's death, he ended up in a poor excuse for an orphanage. The condition of the orphanage was horrendous with very little money and next to no help. The building was always falling apart, the meals the children received were almost inedible and the kids spent most of their days doing manual labor.

Ferran spent four years living in this filth before a member of the Wayfarer's Guild happened upon him. He was only ten years old but, through his years of work in the orphanage, he was already stronger than all of the other children. The man took him in and began training him in archery and close-range combat. He traveled with him for years, learning the art of the traveling mercenary. When he was 17, he started off on his own, but always keeping ties with the Wayfarers.

He ultimately decided to join the guild while taking whatever jobs came his way. He didn't care what they were, as long as they paid well, he would do it. Getting his hands dirty was not an issue.

He sometimes wonders what his life would be like if his mother hadn't died when he was a child. He still harbors some resentment for the man and his daughter that caused his life to be thrown into chaos all those years ago.

Strengths: Expert Archer - Skilled with Daggers - Fearless - Confident - Survivor

Weakness: Vindictive - Sarcastic - Untrustworthy - Materialistic - Remorseless

What is the most important thing to know about your character?
He has no loyalties. He doesn't care about politics or who might be on the throne at the time. He just wants money and maybe some fighting while he's at it.

What is your character's greatest flaw?
He hasn't been able to let go of his past or forgive those who have wronged him. This can occasionally effect his decision-making, for better or worse.

Why should your character be in a position to influence an entire country?
He is a very skilled fighter and is willing to do jobs that other may feel are "immoral" or "wrong".

Writing Sample

"Now, if you'd just stop running, this would be so much easier." Ferran smirked as he drew an arrow from his quiver. He watched the man stumbling, trying to get away. He could see blood already seeping through his shirt from the wound he had already inflicted. As he knocked the arrow, his eyes focused on the man's legs. He was a rather large target and not very fast. While Ferran enjoyed the thrill of the hunt, this man was drawing it out.

He loosed the arrow and it swiftly found it's mark. The man let out a yelp and fell forward, landing hard on the ground. Ferran lowered his bow and began walking towards him. He had a certain swagger in his walk that spoke to his confidence. He had done this before.

As he approached the whimpering man, he put his bow on his back and drew on of his daggers. The steel glistened as it caught the last few rays of sunlight that filtered through the trees. "See? We could have avoided all of this if you had listened to me in the first place," he taunted as he examined his blade. He lovingly traced his finger over the blunt part of the blade before reaching down and grabbing the man's injured shoulder, rolling him over onto his back.

"You see this blade? I don't get to use it too often. Sometimes I feel like she doesn't get enough attention." He grinned and looked down at the man. He had a look of terror and pain on his face, pain shooting through his entire body with every movement. "I'm going to make sure I give her plenty of attention today."

With one quick motion, he flipped the blade around in his hand and stabbed it into the already open wound on the man's arm. The man screamed in agony as Ferran twisted the blade once before pulling it back out. He watched the crimson blood drip off of the silver before placing the blade under one of the man's many chins. "I don't know who you pissed of, man, but it was a huge mistake on your part."

[Sadie]

Zeresh Basha

Race/Faction:

Ouroboros

Age:

Looks in her mid twenties, but she stopped counting at 50.

Description:



Standing at a meek 5'1, Zaresh is a tiny little nugget of sunshine. She loves dressing in flowy skirts and barely-there bikini-style tops. Always barefoot as she loves the sand under her feet, and usually always has some dirt caked on her from such as well. The girl usually has a smile on her face...when she doesn't have blood on it. Her brown hair falls to her mid-back and is usually unkempt and wild.

Class:

Belongs to the Heart

Motivation:



Belonging to the Ouroboros, she has the same motivation as her leader...to overthrow Cordath. She follows her leader blindly, without question.

History:

Zaresh doesn't really know, or remember, how she came to be. As far as she knows, her leader is her mother. When she was very young, she learned that she could control the weather. Her strength and power only grew as her group continued to feed on others, gaining all that was their very essence.

After many years, it was found that she was to be part of the Heart. Her abilities are based primarily on her emotions, which makes for a very unstable environment. She has never been able to gain control over her emotions- one minute, she's happy and bouncing around. The next, she's a sobbing, uncontrollable mess. When she's bubbly and smiley, it's sunshine and rainbows. Harsh winter arises when she's sad, fierce thunderstorms when angry.

To strangers, she is shy and likes to hide behind the others. She gets along relatively well with her group, yet isn't too overly fond with those she doesn't know.

More of her history to come in the IC.

Strengths:



-Immortal
-Vastly powerful
-Protective of her clan

Weakness:



-Driven insane
-Not highly trained in her abilities
-Worthless in hand-to-hand combat
-Afraid of sharp objects
-Quiet
-Shy
-Acts irrationally with her emotions
-Vulnerable to attack
-Always hungry

What is the most important thing to know about your character?

Zeresh is completely loyal to the leader of the Ouroboros. She would gladly give her life, if she could, to protect her mother.

What is your character's greatest flaw?

Most of the time, she doesn't know which way is up or down. She is mentally unhinged and ravenous.

Why should your character be in a position to influence an entire country?

She is one with the Ourboros. Alongside her brothers and sisters, they are unstoppable forces.



Sample writing:

"Sand, sand, sandy sand sand.." A fit of giggles escaped the small woman's chest as she continued to kick her bare feet through the grainy sand. Her arms swung to and fro at her sides. Zeresh had not a care in the world. All was right in the land with her toes in the sand. Her brown tangled hair whipped itself around her shoulders as she suddenly took off at a run. Putting her arms into the air, she closed her eyes as she ran.

Didn't take long for the woman to run smack dab into the back of a camel's behind. "Ooof!" The force of her momentum caused her to fall backwards into the sand, her back laying flat out on the ground. She scrunched her nose and squinted her dark eyes towards the sky. Seeing the clouds, Zeresh tilted her head and grinned. "Pretty fluffs."

----

This couldn't be happening. None of this was happening. There was too much chaos happening within her clan. Something about a milk-face having entered their quarters. Too many voices. Too much excitement from her brothers and sisters. With a small moan of anguish, Zeresh's hands shot up to cover her ears as she squeezed her eyes shut. With another moan of agony, a boom of thunder occured in the sky. "Shut up, shut up! Go away, go away!"

When the noise continued, her panic continued to rise. Her fingers tightened around her ears as she screamed at the top of her lungs, "SHUT UP!" As she screamed, several flashes of lightning struck violently in the sky.

Katima Aziel

---

---

Katima

---

---

Race/Faction:

Human, Kingdom

Age:

27

Description:

Katima is a petite 5'4 with long golden blonde hair that falls past her shoulders. She has deep-set blue-green eyes and pale, milky skin. She is usually clothed in a long dress robe, a standard of female mages in the university. Very modest in nature, she tries to hide her natural feminine beauty whenever possible.

Class:

Mage, specializing in Ghosting.

Motivation:

The University was there for solace when she felt her world was falling apart. She will do anything to protect her new home, and her brother.

History:

Katima and her twin brother, Nilam, grew up on the outskirts of a small city with their parents. It would appear that magic runs in their family as all of them were gifted from a young age. Their parents began training them as soon as their abilities began to show. Katima found that she was able to walk through solid matter without being harmed.

They often kept to themselves, as magic users are generally feared and are not tolerated. When the twins were in their teens, their parents were attacked by some of the city-folk who had found out about their use of magic. Heartbroken, Nilam decided to try his hand at something he had never done before: necromancy. He attempted to bring them back based off of an old spellbook but, as he had no experience, it went horribly wrong. He had gone to a secluded forest to attempt this dark magic. The experiment resulted in a magic explosion and shockwave that tore the surrounding trees from the ground, roots and all. The magic shot through his body and caused some permanent damage to his mind. As soon as this happened, Katima was able to sense that something wasn't right. It took her several hours to locate him and wake him from his stupor. She had to help him flee as the townspeople quickly retaliated and chased them off. They ended up in Cordath were they were offered safe haven in the Mage's University. Having no other options, they accepted.

The following years were not easy on them. Nilam suffered delusions, hallucinations, and, occasionally, complete mental breaks. Katima had swooped in to take care of her ailing brother, spending all hours of her day at his side making sure he was okay. With all her attention and focus on him, Katima's ability was not able to progress further, leaving her weak and inexperienced. The both of them also began to get called upon by the king to help with various tasks, from Nilam's aid in battles to Katima's help in gathering intel.

Strengths:

Motherly - Nurturing - Hopeful- Grateful - Loyal to her family

Weakness:

Physically useless in battle - Soft Hearted - Timid - Inexperienced with ability

What is the most important thing to know about your character?

Katima will stop at nothing to make sure that her brother and herself are safe.

What is your character's greatest flaw?

She has based her focus on protecting and caring for her brother- therefore, she has not paid attention to her own studies, keeping herself inexperienced.

Why should your character be in a position to influence an entire country?

If she begins to focus and train her ability, nothing will be able to be kept hidden from her.

Writing Sample

After several moments, Katima's mind was clear once more. She could always tell when her brother's mind began to wander and it was usually doing inopportune moments for her. Like now, when she was supposed to be focusing on her concentration. According to her teacher, concentration was the major factor in her ability. One wrong move could mean disaster for the girl.

The girl gave herself a small shake to rid the tension from her body. She was ready. She could do this. Staring at the wall in front of her, her blue-green eyes narrowed as she focused. All she had to do was picture herself becoming lighter than air. Should be easy enough. Katima cleared her throat and gave a small nod of her head to alert her teacher that she was ready. Taking one small step, she closed her eyes in concentration.

When she didn't feel herself running into the wall, she beamed with excitement. She couldn't believe she was actually doing it. Getting caught up with the swell of pride, Katima didn't notice her concentration breaking. Not until she felt as though the air had just been sucked from her lungs from a sudden pressure at her chest. Quickly opening her eyes, she looked down and soon realized that while the left half of her body had made it through, the right was now stuck behind the wall. Her eyes widened as her arms flailed before trying to push against either side of the concrete.

"Stop, stop! Breathe, child, relax! You must concentrate!" berated her teacher.

"I am! I'm trying!" She cried out in exasperation and could feel the panic increasing in her chest. As tears hit her eyes, she sucked in a deep breath and squeezed her eyes shut. As she once more focused on her ability, Katima soon found herself falling forward. With a gasp, she landed on all fours on the other side of the wall. She hung her head and couldn't help a tearful laugh at herself. Until she heard giggling. Looking up to realize she was in the middle of the hall surrounded by others, she quickly sobered up before staggering to her feet. Brushing off the bottom of her robe, she cleared her throat and hurried to her room.

[Nymeria]

Nilam Aziel

Name: Nilam Aziel

Race/Faction: Human

Age: 27

Description:

Nilam

Nilam is of average height, around 5'10", and is of relatively thin build. He has blond hair that falls about an inch above his shoulders with stunning blue eyes. He wears loose-fitting robes over his everyday clothes. He doesn't usually wear any armor other than leather arm bracers. He carries a tall mage's staff around from time to time that appears to be carves from wood with a shining sapphire set at the top.

"Class": Mage specializing in Augmentation

Motivation: Nilam just wants to live a quiet life in a peaceful world. He doesn't like to get involved in politics, though him and his sister are sometimes called upon by the king for their abilities.

History: Nilam and his twin sister, Katima, grew up on the outskirts of a small city with their parents. It would appear that magic runs in their family as all of them were gifted from a young age. Their parents began training them as soon as their abilities began to show. Nilam focused on Augmentation: the ability to strengthen or weaken other's abilities. Him and his sister worked together a lot and he often focused his powers on her. He also found he was able to use this power on non-magic users to strengthen or weaken their strength, agility, etc.

They often kept to themselves, as magic users are generally feared and are not tolerated. When the twins were in their teens, their parents were attacked by some of the city-folk who had found out about their use of magic. Heartbroken, Nilam decided to try his hand at something he had never done before: necromancy. He attempted to bring them back based off of an old spellbook but, as he had no experience, it went horribly wrong. He had gone to a secluded forest to attempt this dark magic. The experiment resulted in a magic explosion and shockwave that tore the surrounding trees from the ground, roots and all. The magic shot through his body and caused some permanent damage to his mind. He woke several hours later to his sister furiously trying to awaken him. She had to help him flee as the townspeople quickly retaliated and chased them off. They ended up in Cordath were they were offered safe haven in the Mage's University. Having no other options, they accepted.

The following years were not easy on them. Nilam suffered delusions, hallucinations, and, occasionally, complete mental breaks. Katima had swooped in to take care of her ailing brother, spending all hours of her day at his side making sure he was okay. This caused some strife for Nilam as he felt guilty for taking so much of her time and also a longing to be independent again. The both of them also began to get called upon by the king to help with various tasks, from Nilam's aid in battles to Katima's help in gathering intel. Nilam resented helping the king and his warriors kill people, but he had no choice.

Strengths: Powerful Control over Magic Augmentation - Empathy - Loyalty to his Family - Perseverance

Weakness: Mentally Unstable - Anxious - Dependent on others, mainly his sister - Withdrawn - Not Very Physically Strong

What is the most important thing to know about your character?
Nilam is a powerful mage, but he can easily lose control if his mind snaps.

What is your character's greatest flaw?
His psychosis causes many problems in his day-to-day life including hallucinations, delusions and sometimes full-on psychotic breaks.

Why should your character be in a position to influence an entire country?
Nilam can influence the flow of an entire battle by giving certain troops strength while taking away the strength of others. The King has called on him on numerous occasions to give his warriors an edge.

Writing Sample

Eyes closed, breathing steady, Nilam concentrated. He gripped his staff in one hand, his other arm raised, his palm facing the battle. The vein in his neck bulged and his face began to turn red as he felt his will, his strength, start to flow. Suddenly, his icy blue eyes shot open, and he let out a loud roar. He could feel his energy, his pulse, his everything flowing out towards the soldiers. The men responded almost instantaneously. They could feel the power course through their veins. Rallying, they fought with a renewed vigor. The soldiers began cutting down each enemy soldier like they were nothing. Swords swinging, arrows flying, the battle ended almost as quickly as it began.

Nilam dropped to his knees, exhausted. His energy sapped, he could barely hold himself up. His hands shook as his grasp on his staff began to loosen. His breath came in ragged, shaky spurts, beads of sweat dripping from his forehead.

The commander standing behind him smirked. "Very impressive...."

Nilam gasped, closing his mouth and trying to find the ability to speak. He wiped his forehead with his sleeve before he used his staff to get back to his feet. "Th-thank you sir...." he acknowledged, his voice weak and shaking.

The man stared at the mage in front of him. His body was weak, but his skills were powerful. He would be incredibly useful in the war efforts if he was able to keep his stamina up. "How old are you, boy?" The man inquired.

"19 sir..." Nilam replied, his voice gaining strength but still audibly drained.

The man's smirk grew. "Excellent."

[knightTeutonic]

Michael Augustine

Name: Michael Augustine

Faction: church of the cross, order of the St. David

Age: 21

Description:

Image of Michael

Michael stands at an average height of 5’5. He has lightly tanned skin that has permanent traces of dirt packed in, which have gathered from his travels(he tries to wash as often as possible but his traveling makes it a rare luxury). He has bright blonde hair that he cuts short, along with his facial hair, and has blue eyes as dark as Sapphire. He has muscles but is quite thin, which makes his enemies underestimate him at times, since he lives on a lean diet. he's usually seen wearing banded armor with a cape that has the symbol of the order as well as leather boots and gloves. He always wears an amulet his father gave him under his current clothes.

"Class": wandering knight

Motivation: the death of his father made him realize how corrupt, and vile the world can be. So he decided to join the order so he could expose and fight evil, to prevent the kind of actions that lead to the death of his father, as well as to help the people of the kingdom in any way he can. He's fiercely loyal to the church and it's doctrine since it has given him everything he has and knows.

History: He was adopted into the church by a priest at the age of 5. he was being raised and trained to be a priest within the church so he was to taught church doctrine, and dogma as well as how to read and write by his adopted father, father treavion. that changed when his father was killed by an assassin when he was the age of 12, and the local guards did nothing to investigate it. Once his father died he decided to join the order of St. David as knight to help people, and to fight evil wherever it lies.

Strengths: literate: while training to be a priest he was taught to read and write

Limited healing abilities: preaching is not a priests only duty, one of a priests secondary duties is to help sick, and injured people. Michael knows how to heal small to medium wounds

Master swordsman: the order doesn't allow its members to use cheap tricks, and dirty fighting in combat so they give their members through training to make up for the lack of tactical choices in battle

Weakness: Zealous: Michael is fiercely loyal to church doctrine, and is quick to tell someone if they do something considered blasphemous. If a person sides with some group that is deemed evil or does something that would make them untrustworthy he will disavow them. If the person does something evil enough he will challenge them to a dual

Code of chivalry: due to the oath he took to join the order he is forbidden from using “dishonorable” forms of combat’ or using cheap tricks in combat

Incapable of lying: due to his oath of his oath he's restricted from telling a lie, though he would count this as a strength, tactically it’s a big weakness. Although he is restricted from lying he’s not restricted from withholding the truth

Despises magic: views magic as evil and dishonorable, with the exception of healing defense magic,.

What is the most important thing to know about your character? He is loyal chiefly to the church if a side strays from the church's teachings he will not hesitate to leave and help the other side.

What is your character's greatest flaw?
He will keep true to his oaths even if it costs his life, wich it probably will be,.

Why should your character be in a position to influence an entire country? Michael strives to be a paragon of virtue and righteousness and won't let the kingdom fall into the hands of evil as long as he draws breath.

Writing example

Michael had been riding for hours he had seen nothing but road, trees, and the dust kicked up by his horse when suddenly a man came barreling down the road like a mad man. Michael Shouted, “you there stop, your going to spook my horse!”. Exhausted the man stopped and with a look of shock on his face he said “I've just been robbed… they took all the Money I had. I'm not going to be able feed my family for weeks” the man broke down. Dismounting his horse and handing the man all the money in his pocket and a water skin saying “here drink this and calm down, how many robbers were there?” “Six maybe seven why?”asked the man. “What a coincidence. There's a bandit group that I've been tracking down that's been causing trouble around here for months. Hey watch my horse for me.” Michael went off to go challenge the bandits.

After 15 minutes of walking Michael spotted the bandits. Seeing that they set up a little ambush he decided to set it off. Walking into the trap the leader jumps out, but before he could say a word Michael says with a smile “I'm here to accept your surrender”. The rest of the bandits stepped out from there hiding spots, turns out it was six.

“no we're here to accept your surrender along with all of your money.”

“But I don't have any money.”

“Well guess your no use to us alive then.” The bandits started to circle him until one of them decided to
charge. Michael stood still, bracing for the charge until the last moment, then Michael lunged forward ducking under the blow and cutting the man's hand clean off. The bandits stood there shocked expecting their compatriot to take his head off. Taking advantage of their shock he charged the bandit next to the leader using his shield to knock him down, then swiftly getting behind the leader putting his sword to his neck and placing his foot on the bandits neck who he knocked down.

“I'm here to accept your surrender”

[sly13]

Conall Cassidy

Name: Conall Cassidy

Race/Faction: Kingdom

Age: 26

Description: Conall stands at a staggering 6’5 with 250 pounds of muscle, the kind only obtained from years of battle and training. He has mid length red hair which is cut short on the side and left to grow on top. He carries a short beard that is crept close to his face. He has palish skin that reflects his birth in the north were bright sunny days are scarce. Pale blue eyes that have seen the horrors of this world and that are filled with grief and regret. Always ready for a fight Conall always carries his two custom made war axes whose blades are engraved with family and tribal markings gifted to him by his father on his belt. Should he ever enter a planned battle Conall adornes green war paint with one vertical line above his right eye and two below the eye. When not training or helping other around him Conall wears more decorative clothes which are most always green.

"Class": Berserker

Motivation: Conall is always looking for a good fight and a new ways to challenge his limits so when the time comes he will never let those he loves die again. How these come about he cares not, while he admires them as foes in battle ultimately their lives mean nothing in his book just obstacles in the way of protecting his loved ones.

History:
Conall grew up in small Celtic village to the far north known as Mac Tire “The Wolf”. His father being chief of this land was taught how to be strong courageous and most of all how to protect what you held dear. He took these lessons to heart and aspired to be the kind of man his father had become. He worked tirelessly to perfect himself become a remarkable warrior and man that could lead his people to success.

At the age of 16 Conall accompany his tribe into battle where he would get his first taste of battle. While some of the boys took some time to grow accustomed to the reek of battle and sounds of falling men Conall reveled in it. Following his father's lessons he threw himself into the thick of the battle showing no mercy to his foes and making sure to protect his men. Because of his selflessness and ferocity in battle he was given the title of berserker and hero of their village.

However with all gain comes loss and none know this better than Conall. Not long after this great battle was Conall used as a pawn in a much larger game. An evil witch who had hated his people with all her heart had decided to use him to exact her revenge. The witch used her magic to cloud his mind and fill him with a rage towards his father that could only be quelled with blood. It was on the very hill where he was given his war axes that he struck down both his father and his brother. Upon his father's loss of life Conall broke free from the spell and bore witness to the atrocity he had just committed.

Feeling lost and responsible for the loss of his father and brother he wandered the wilderness aimlessly searching for a purpose in his now miserable life or possibly an end to it. It was in these darkest times that he was given a light in the blizzard. One of the King's closest men had been sent to retrieve Conall. Upon his meeting with the King Conall learned of the deals his tribe had made with the King. In return for “dealing with” the kings more undesirable and rebellious cities the king promised to keep his armies at bay. After learning this the king offered Conall a purpose in life, to serve him as not just a member of the vanguard but his his own personal attack dog.

Strengths:
Superb Warrior: while he doesn't claim to have the best form of a fighter Collan is not easily defeated whether it be in the confusion of a battlefield or in a one on one engagement.
Resourceful: His long time spent in the wilderness has taught him how to be a proper trader and hunter of all things
Ruthless in battle: Conall living up to his title fights with a ferocity that is rarely found in men and isn't afraid to fight dirty in order to win, because after all it only matters if you won not how.
Protective: Collan would rather take the arrow himself then see a comrade fall in battle
Brawler: Evan before he was trained with a weapon Conall was trained in unarmed combat using his often superior size, weight, and strength to push his opponents around.

Weakness:
Constantly drinks: While never to the point of a belligerent Conall drinks mostly to numb the pain of his past
Loves a good fight: conall often gets lost in his fights enjoying it far more than he should. This can at times lead him to look for fights to fill the void between battles.
Closed off: because of his troubled past Conall rarely opens up to people in a meaningful way but those he does can be sure that they are now his family.
Loyal to a fault: Conall is often times blindly loyal to the king and those he cares about
Berserker rage: Not all of the magic in Conall has left giveing him the ability to give into the rage on will becomeing almost unstoppable. However upon doing this Conall looses all control of his actions and is unable to see friend from foe. The only way he can come out of it is if he has become exhausted or is out of people to to fight



What is the most important thing to know about your character?
Conall absolutely despises treachery and cowardness. It would take a great deal of explanation to to convince him otherwise.

What is your character's greatest flaw?
Because of his background as a barbarian raider, the chief's son no less, and the fact is is just joining in this time of treachery within the kingdom causes many to not trust him.

Why should your character be in a position to influence an entire country?
He is a strong warrior who would gladly die for his people and will always put his people above him.

writing example

Two Days before meeting with the king at the end of back story
“What’s his problem” asked one of the patrons while pointing at a large man sitting at the end of the bar.
“That would be Conall” replied the bartender “he always does this after a battle.”
Conall continued to stare at his bottle of ale wondering as he always did. It wasn’t that he hated battle, quite the contrary in fact, he revealed in it loving every minute of it. It was more so that he longed for the times when his battles meant something. To long had it been since the days when Conall has fought in the large chaotic battles with his father. Maybe he coul-

“Hey you over there with the stupid makeup on your face.” Drunkenly yelled one of the three men sitting at the bar. “Why do you look so sad? Not man enough to kill in battle and deal with it?” “the most pathetic excuse for a raider I have ever se-”.

The last of his statement never left his mouth as a bottle shattered against his temple. The other two men looked to where the bottle for were it could have come from and saw Conall standing with a look of pure rage. Without a word he quickly moved to meet them ready to fight. In their drunken stupidity they had lacked to noticed the sheer size of Conall in comparison to themselves. He easily cleared them by a foot at the least and clearly outmatched them in strength. Not wasting a second Conall head butted the first man followed by throwing him over a table to their left. The second man had at least enough wits about him to throw a large hook at Conall, which Conall easily dodged and was rewarded with a large boot to his stomach sending him into the wall. A swift punch to the ribs and one to the jaw was all it took for conall to knock him down.

“Let that be a lesson to ye. Never disrespect my people again or it’ll be your last.” turning he set his sights on the man who had been thrown aside earlier now holding out a sword. “I will give you this one chance” stated Conall through his teeth already gripping his axes in anticipation “put down the wepon and take your mates drunken arses out of here or i'll have to kill ya.” Conall just shook is head as the man rushed at him “why do they always think a weapon will help at all.” The man slashed downward hoping to catch Conall off guard. Conall simple side stepped and caught the sword in his axe stopping the man and causing them to be side by side. From here Conall placed a hard kick into the man's knee shattering it intanly. This would be the last thing the man felt as not a second after having his knee broken did Conalls axe relive his head from his body.

“My my you certainly know how to handle yourself in a fight in see. He certainly is good at finding the interesting ones.”

“And who might you be?” Conall asked in a tone that showed he was not in the mood for a conversation.

“Am I simple a messenger sent to retrieve you. You’re in no danger I assure you. Just a simple meeting that could help give you some purpose back into your life.” applying emphasis on the word purpose as if he knew that was what Conall need most at that moment. “Well you coming?” He said beginning to leave.

“ I am sorry about the mess here is for the damages.” Conall replied giving the bartender his last couple gold and heading out with the strange man..