Average in height and slim of frame, Arden's silhouette looks no different from the average citizen of Grenheim, though he bears the relatively smooth fingers and bright face of the financially wealthy in stark contrast to much of the exhausted working population. His father's lineage grants him pale blonde hair, fair skin, and light blue eyes while his mother's more exotic blood shapes his eyes almond and smooths away his father's strong jaw, leaving Arden's face with a delicate combination of narrow chin, rosy lips, and the soft curves of an ingénue.
Blessed with attractive facial features usually meant for the other sex and a slender build, Arden doesn't mind dolling himself up often in tailored robes and priceless jewelry to attend his family's banquets and parties, enjoying in brief durations the ability to catch almost all the eyes in a room. When with Gabe, however, the young noble prefers a simple white tunic and dark, sturdy trousers, wanting to forage into the depths of the woods alongside his steadfast childhood friend.
The fourth son of a merchant family recently come into aristocracy through marriage to a minor noble house of Grenheim, Arden was born with a silver spoon in his mouth and a relative freedom of expression compared to his older brothers. He lived carefree and curious for much of his childhood until he encountered the 12-year-old Gabriel waiting quietly at the servants' entrance to the Harwell estate. Ever careless and questioning, Arden had approached as Gabriel's father gave the mansion's assistant chef the first pick of freshly butchered game. In awe at the quantity of red, bleeding meat on display, the boy had cried out, drawing all the attention he needed.
The old hunter, not wishing to draw any noble's ire, had urged his taciturn son to play with Arden while he discussed purchases and selections with the head chef.
The two have remained friends since, with Arden waiting weekly at the servants' entrance to pester Gabe for yet more tales of dramatic hunts and crafty solutions to even craftier wildlife. In time, Arden was allowed to visit Gabe's cottage deep in the forest as long as he had servant accompaniment. By the time the teenager was 14, he had been given reluctant freedom to venture forth alone as long as he returned soon after sundown. The two had established a minor ritual at this point where food would always be ready--one way or another--when Arden visited. Either Arden brought with him a basket of the chef's finest to share with Gabe or Gabe had the day's kill prepared and cooked for his friend. They spent hours lounging with one another on free days or Arden would keep Gabe company as he fletched arrows and sharpened knives for his father.
The freedom wouldn't last, however, as his family's tenuous status as aristocracy remained a subject of scorn and rejection in the upper circles whose money derived from old blood. The Harwell family was considered upstarts at best and peasants playing at status at worst. To rectify the increasing disdain, Giles Harwell--the feared head of the family--looked for marriages of convenience to further cement the family name in the annals of the luxurious. Arden was no exception to his father's ambitions and soon he, too, found himself fending off arranged meetings and supervised dates with the girls of more reputable families.
Conniving even in his old age, Giles had arranged meetings and parties for the families of nobles who retained their status, but had lost much of their money, hinting at the Harwell coffers during negotiations for marriages. Strains of desperation snaked across both parties and there was no shortage of suitable families to marry into.
In the frenzy of socially mandatory events and parties, Arden found few moments that year to visit Gabe, though even those infrequent visits revealed that Gabe's father was unwell. Before a brutal winter struck Grenheim, he managed to bring the family of two a large basket of preserved meats and medicines, along with an unwitting mule carting along firewood, oil lamps, warm clothes. and thick fur blanketing, urging Gabe to stay safe and wishing his father well.
Blizzards raged on and off throughout the cold months and when spring began thawing the ice-packed ground, Gabe's father died in his sleep. In the aftermath of the loss, Arden was there, the breakwater that Gabe's grief needed to finally subside, until the orphaned hunter could find his way once more.
From one disaster to another, Arden was soon disowned for the offense of rejecting marriage from a powerful noble family--an offer his father had spent half a year bringing to fruition. His reasoning was simply that he felt nothing for the girl, lovely as she was. When screams and slaps could not convince him, he was cast out of the family to save face and the outcast ex-aristocrat found himself turning to the only person he hoped would let him stay. And Gabe did not refuse.
For the past two years Arden has lived with Gabe, in something of a dreamlike paradise for the now-peasant, who misses the sweets of the mansion but finds far more comfort in the steady, unwavering loyalty of his friend. They've found each other through thick and thin and both have sacrificed more than his fair share for the other, coexisting in perfect harmony. The day the emperor's missive found them, Arden had given Gabe the choice, knowing as they both did the state of the country and the fragile peace they had enjoyed until then. If they wanted something better and the emperor's mages believed they had the power to change the course of the world's state, then they would fight for it.
Arden is both insecure and strong-willed, the sort who will put his genuine efforts into something he wants to accomplish, but feels that he's never good enough to achieve it. Regardless, he'll keep at it, whether it's trying to string a bow and failing repeatedly or helping Gabe tend to the small garden behind the cottage without killing the plants. He doesn't realize it, but practice does make perfect and for all his lack of belief in himself Arden is improving in everything he insists on doing. Conversely, he has the utmost faith in Gabe, come hell or high water. Should an omnipotent deity declare that Gabe is untrustworthy, Arden would laugh in its face. To him, even a lie from Gabe is a truth to be believed until the hunter reveals otherwise.
With Gabe, Arden is a doting friend, always careful to attend to every chore and need Gabe requires after a hard day of hunting and tracking. By now the two have recognized the physical tells of each other so well that Gabe need only raise his head to ask for water and he would find a cup already by his side. Once he had settled into the less extravagant life of a hunter, Arden became accustomed to bringing the butchered meats to market, dauntless in the face of jeers and laughter whenever any old acquaintances recognized him. He's happy where he is and wouldn't trade Gabe for the world.
In what Arden considers his previous life as an aristocrat, he was superficially amicable and always able to tack himself onto a conversation without much semblance of intrusion. Capable of keeping at least a straight face even in the face of direct mockery, Arden saves his emotional outbursts and rants for visits with Gabe where he would regale the quiet hunter with all the most frustrating people and events while eating as much cake as his stomach would allow in an effort to improve his mood. His social skills haven't deteriorated--rather, with the new circumstances of his demoted status, he has had to sharpen them all the more while rumors spread and laughter follows.
Devotion.
Arden would die for Gabe, without hesitation. More importantly, he would live for Gabe as well, seeking actions in his friend's best interests as his eternal gratitude for the way Gabe neither judged nor patronized him the day he lost his social status. Arden's loyalty is ferocious and despite his normal lack of combat abilities he will always step in to defend the curt Gabe when words fail and fists fly.
Gabriel of Marvik (Gabe)
Located on the front of his left hip. Glows faintly with a soft hue of mixed blues, purples, and greens.
Normally, Arden has no combat prowess and falters at fighting even woodland creatures, preferring household chores and gardening to violence for the sake of some greater purpose. He's tenacious when he does get going, but hardly skilled.
As a knight, Arden turns into the dangerous beasts of the forests he so often wishes to hunt, with a supernatural twist of excessive speed and strength. Any animal form he takes is much larger and deadlier than their normal counterparts, though he has the ability to shift into smaller, weaker animals for reconnaissance. The ability comes with the natural (and enhanced) instincts and talents his chosen animal form possesses, but inflicts a more feral and primitive influence on Arden's mind. He retains human consciousness, but will find animalistic tendencies and instincts incredibly hard to resist, if not entirely impossible. When pushed too far and for too long, the only thing that will keep his mind from disappearing entirely is the magic of his Gear. At the critical point, he will recognize only Gabe and attack anyone else indiscriminately.
Hunting knives and a shortbow that he is proficient in, though he misses far more often than he likes. He still needs Gabe's help to fletch arrows and often loses his quiver.
In combat: ranged attacks, sounds/smells/lights intended to overwhelm his enhanced animal senses. As a person: anything that concerns Gabe and anyone who can throw a decent punch.
Gleipnir
Collar Arden manifests a thin, nondescript band of silver around his neck as wide as a human finger.
The Gear grants Arden the ability to shift animal forms at will (though he needs to remain still for 5-10 seconds to fully shift and the transformations are easily interrupted should he move or be struck) and to a larger-than-normal size. He can only shift into the forms of creatures he has already seen. Certain spells terrifyingly enhances Arden's ability at the cost of feral instinct consuming his mind, but the collar also allows Gabe to keep perfect control over his knight, even at the worst of moments.
Gabe, rainy days, cakes, cozy dinners by the fire, soft music, and learning new things.
Social rules, bitter foods, the cold, people who talk over him, business-related functions, and especially arranged marriages.
Cleaning, knitting, gardening, learning how to hunt, and pampering Gabe.
Tall and muscular, Gabriel has the tell-tale physique of many from the lower class in Grenheim, though far more well-built due to his proficiency with the bow. His back muscles in particular are extremely defined from lifelong use of a hunting bow and far stronger than one would expect from constant training to remain the ranged, apex predator in his neck of the woods. Many jagged scars marred his tanned skin; most were from close encounters with wildlife, as part of his occupation. His dark hair is coarse and unruly, kept long and would often cover his eyes if he let it down. Most of time, he kept it tied back with a string. Working often with a bow has produced deft but calloused fingers, which also bear many scars from formative years training with a butcher knife.
There isn’t much to say about his usual clothing. As a simple villager, he only owns a few sets of clothes to his name, most are simple linen tunics and pants. One fixed feature of his appearance is a somewhat tattered fur coat, mostly due to the harsh winters of his village. Leather boots and gloves were also frequent accessories, even when he isn’t out in the woods. Around his waist is a well worn leather belt, from which hangs his hunting knife and a small pouch for essentials.
A hunter’s son, Gabriel grew up in an isolated cottage with his father. One of his earlier memories was of the hunt: the smell of spilled blood and deer musk, his father’s warm laughter and the weight of the kill on his shoulders as they carried it back. Even in his younger years, Gabriel was withdrawn. He had always preferred to explore the woods around him rather than seeking companions.
Then Arden came into his life. The boy was a scion of a noble family, and yet somehow he managed to befriend the stoic Gabe. On the winter of his 16th year, his father passed away, his body finally succumbed to an old sickness. Gabriel did not mourn the man for long; that winter had been long and harsh, and he had to work to keep himself fed. Naturally, he inherited his father’s cottage and his occupation. For years, he lived the hermit life; only travelling to the nearby village to restock on necessary supplies and barter his catch with the steady visits from Arden. Aside from that, most of his days were spent in the woods, setting up traps and tracking down new quarry.
Together, they maintained a tentative routine: Arden would come over for dinner several times a week, sharing whatever meagre meals Gabriel had cooked up while bringing over delicacies to share with the hunter. After an act of defiance that cost Arden his own position, Gabriel took him in, letting the scion stay with him until the day they were finally located for the bonding ritual.
Gabriel is best described as cold, standoffish and completely unsociable. He seemed entirely ruled by his logic, rarely expressing or acting on his emotions. With the exception of Arden, the hunter often prefers to spend his time doing his own things, rather than being around other people. He rarely speaks in the company of strangers too, and this attribute clearly affects his ability to work in a group. Because of his preference for solitude and autonomy, he also dislikes being dependent on someone or following orders, though he does make an attempt to keep things cordial. It doesn’t mean the same thing as engaging in conversations, though.
Very very very platonic friendship. He cares deeply for Arden, despite what he shows (or doesn't).
Arden Harwell
Located on the front of his left hip. Glows faintly with a soft hue of mixed blues, purples, and greens.
A hunter by trade, Gabriel wields a recurve bow. He quite used to stalking and firing while crouching down in tall bushes, so when he engages enemies, expect him to employ a similar technique: he will attempt to keep his distance and take them by surprise.
Recurve bows, arrows and bow-related equipment. Hunting knife.
He’s a commoner by birth. So, he’s quite poor, doesn’t know how to read and has never actually seen a horse close up. His combat experience is restricted to just wildlife; though there was scuffles with humans before. Regardless, Gabriel isn't exactly a seasoned fighter.
Devotion.
All of Gabriel’s spells are focused around empowering and drawing strength from his partner. Therefore, they can only affect Arden as of the moment.
Blood In The Water Throwing Arden into a murderous rage, greatly increasing his strength, speed and stamina. Yet, this spell is also draining on both him and Arden, though at different time interval. For Gabriel, the exhaustion worsens as the spell is maintained (lasting as long 20-30 minutes at a stretch, though that would be pushing Gabe's limits very hard), while for Arden, it hits him all at once when he gets out of beast form.
What's Mine Is Yours Transferring all of Arden’s current wounds onto him. When this spell is used, Gabriel gains a minor healing factor, allowing him to recover at a glacial pace. Yes, he can kill himself with this ability.
Through Thick And Thin The closer Gabriel is to his knight, the stronger he is, surpassing even the feats of lifelong, competitive athletes, though it doesn't extend into anything egregiously "superhuman" (lifting around 1000 lbs. at peak spell effect and running at roughly 20-30 miles per hour). Basically, his physical prowess is enhanced by Arden's presence.
"Courage is the one virtue that escapes hypocrisy."
Full Name: The Marquis d'Agneaux, Rose-Marie Bachelot d'Agneaux
Gender:Female
Age: 20
Height: 169cm
Weight: 59kg
Background Information
History: Once, Roche was a ferocious territory, fielding fearsome armored knights and well trained troops against the Empire. Among them was the heavy knights from Agneaux, whose well equipped heavy cavalries was reported to have torn easily through the Empire's ranks. However, they were but a small country, and was soon absorbed into the Empire, as it happened. Even so, their bravery and reputation as one of the oldest noble family there remained.
When her father died, seeing as he had no sons to succeed him, Rose-Marie took up the mantle, taking over his duties. Where once she had to learn how to sing, how to carry herself, and even dance, now she studied military treatises, weapons usage and her father's notes about his duties among others. No more could she be as leisurely as before, back in the days when she would take her younger sister to play with one of the servant's son.
While she may had had some under her command that thought she wasn't suited to succeed her father, those fears were eventually put to rest through her hard work and capable hands. Perhaps it was just was well that Regis stayed on after her father died; there were times when the problems she faced seemed too large for one girl to handle.
Brief Personality: A very uptight person, was what most would describe her as. She takes the counsel of herself first, and others second. Tends to act first before thinking, a result of her upbringing and her work. Has no qualms about saying something outright without trying to dress it up or put it lightly. Dotes on her younger sister so much it feels like night and day when compared to her personality usually. Has a softer side seen by very few, and only by people she was close to.
Emotional Bond: A childhood friend, a trusted companion, and loyal servant. One who stayed by her side through thick or thin.
Partner: Régis Proulx
Combat Information
Fighting Style: Hard and fast. The first one to strike, strikes the last blow. A mentality brought upon by her lineage of heavy knights.
Equipment: The Épine de Rose, custom breechloading wheellock musket shortened for ease of use on horseback, 7 steel cases for it, cuirass and helm, a well made but tarnished older style cruciform sword with the symbol of her house, a warhorse, bag of powder and ball, and the usual things like provisions and the likes.
Weaknesses: Her first and foremost preferred method of fighting is on horseback, and though she wasn't at all that weak off it, she is best when she is riding a horse. She will charge into the heart of the enemy if she feels she could take them, a mentality also fostered by her lineage, and she has trouble imagining any other way to fight other than how she was taught to fight.
Celestial Gear Information
Name: Épine de Rose
Type: Lance
Appearance: It looks like a long wooden lance albeit unbreakable, with a long steel blade tip and a small flag near the head. On closer inspections there are red scripts all around the shaft, wrapping it so it gives the appearance of bloody veins in the wood.
Function: When she sings the weapon sings. When Regis sings, it will sing as well. It sings whenever one of them sings, regardless of where they are, essentially acting as an amplifier for both of them, enabling it to influence both of them as long as theyre not several leagues away. As an added bonus when they sing it vibrates with extreme speed, allowing it to have greater destructive power.
Miscellaneous Information
Likes:Chocolate mousse (though she will never admit it), music, leisurely walks, well kept gardens, books, honorable people, any sorts of sweets, any sort of fish dish. Dislikes: People who think too highly of themselves, the arrogant, the noveau riche, incompetent and idiotic people, anyone who thinks her below them, sour things. Hobbies: Reading, listening to music, and wandering leisurely through the woods. Character Theme: Theme Other:
"Magic, bonds, destiny? Don't really care for it, if I'm being entirely honest! I'm just here for m'lady."
Full Name: Régis Proulx
Gender: Male
Age: 19
Height: 5'7"
Weight: 140 lbs
History: From his very earliest memory, Régis Proulx has had expectation set on him. There are many children that experience expectation. To become nobility, to become a scholar, or a healer, to carry on a legacy that has spanned thousands of years. Régis has always found seen that as a very noble thing. But as for his own legacy… he couldn't care less about it, for his family was bound in servitude. The ancient seat of the Proulx family is in service to the Agneaux fanily, for as far back as any could remember. To serve as their butlers and maids, and, more often than not, trusted friends. The two families have ancient ties, as much advisors as servants, but Régis saw no glamour in this task.
‘Where the Agneaux family goes, we follow.’ It was something his father told him many years ago, trying to instill upon him the importance of their family’s station. They weren’t mere servants, per se. Historically the Proulx’s have taken great pride in their service. They grew alongside the Agneaux family, have been seated as close to nobility as a peasant family could aspire to, and been treated better than mere servants could hope to be.
So why did Régis despise this fate? He has always felt some vague dissatisfaction with his lot in life. His childhood was spent in the servant’s quarters. It was a nice place, nicer than any servant’s quarters had a right to be, and he had the ‘privilege’, as his father called it, of growing up alongside Rose-Marie Bachelot de la Agneaux. The girl was his lord’s eldest daughter. Some would frown upon the budding friendship between a servant’s child and the young lady of a noble house, but not the Agneaux’s. No such animosity existed between their families, as they had always been close. Throughout his childhood Régis grew fond of Rose-Marie in spite of his dislike towards his reality. Slowly yet surely, they became close friends
As Régis turned from child to adult his urge to strike out on his own grew. Caught somewhere between his duty and desire, he was fully expected to take up the mantle of his father. But privately… he hoped to leave, leave and go somewhere else, anywhere else. He saw no honor in becoming a servant, instead taken with the tales of knights and mages. He knew he was nowhere near becoming a hero, but he yearned to, and began making plans to leave. But plans rarely work out, do they? Whatever it was that he hoped to do, those plans were quickly torn apart by the death of his lord, the death of Rose-Marie’s father. By his passing his title went to her, and the reality of his position came crashing down on him. He couldn’t leave, he was to be her servant, her partner moreover.
He… he had to stay, didn’t he? For the sake of his friend.
His resolve became even surer as he watched how readily Rose-Marie took to her duties. No longer was she the girl he once knew, but a true lord. He knew it wasn’t easy for her, and seeing how much she fought to become like her father... it felt impossible for him to leave. To Régis's despair wasn’t long after the death of his lord that his own died as well. It was illness, they said, incurable and fast-moving. He was gone within a fortnight, seemingly healthy one day and dead the next. Régis found little time for grief, for it wasn't long after that he was asked to take up his father's mantle. He already knew what he wanted- no, didn't want, but had to do. He became the one thing he told himself he wouldn’t be… a servant.
Brief Personality: Loyal, steadfast, and wholly too childish. Régis fancies himself a hero, but has little of the mettle required for the job. In truth he's far too scared of combat to become the knight he dreams of, a fact he himself is well aware of. He's an idealist who believes in the basic good of Humans, even when the world tries to prove him wrong. Among his friends he has a reputation of a bit of a joker, rarely working up the nerve to act serious, seeing himself as the natural foil to the all-to-serious Rose-Marie. Even though he won't admit it the only reason he's gone along with the Empire's plans is because of her, because, as much as he hates the idea, he'd follow her anywhere.
Emotional Bond: Rose-Marie's a childhood friend and his mistress. But for Régis the 'friend' is what counts.
Partner: Marquis d'Agneaux, Rose-Marie Bachelot de la Agneaux
Fighting Style: Make no mistake, Régis may have lofty ambitions, but he has little to no knowledge of how to hold a sword.
Equipment: Régis doesn't have many possessions to speak of, with the notable exception of a lute- a hand-me-down from his father. Other than that, he has little with him besides his clothes and basic provisions. For their journey Rose-Marie was kind enough to grant him a sword, something he never imagined he'd have to use, alongside a horse. He feels he is woefully unprepared for whatever the Empire has planned for them, but... well... he doesn't have much choice, does he?
Weaknesses: No combat experience and questionable nerve.
Focus concept: Régis and Rose-Marie form a powerful duet. They use the power of song to weave their voices into energy, his magic providing her with various boons.
Spells
Name: Deadly Tempo Function: Régis' voice begins to pick up speed, building up a powerful rapport with Rose-Marie's lance. Her attacks begin to pick up an unnatural speed, although he can't keep this up for longer than fifteen seconds, and the use of this power leaves him winded for fifteen seconds as well.
Name: Soothing Aria Function: Régis belts out a beautiful solo- it's an extended piece that when finished rejuvenates Rose-Marie's wounds. This does not extend as far as life-threatening injuries, but will heal cuts and bruises and leaves his mistress feeling much more refreshed.
Name: Adagio Bulwark Function: Régis begins a slow and dignified melody, resembling a war chant. While he sings Rose-Marie becomes able to take much more punishment, protected by sonal energy.
Likes: Music, tales of heroes, cities, sunny weather, Rose-Marie Dislikes: Servitude, formality, quiet Hobbies: Playing music, dancing, singing, reading Character Theme: Just another day in the life...
Full Name: Alexei Ilyin-Melikov (Margrave Alexei III, Lord Protector of the North Basilevsa Republic)
Gender: Male
Age: 23
Appearance: Alexei isn't what one would call intimidating at first glance. Only a little above average in height and unremarkable in build, only the numerous scars adorning his body indicate that the nobleman had ever been anywhere near a battlefield. Following the latest fashions of his country, Alexei's hair is currently cut short- far shorter than most nobles in the south would tolerate- and the beginnings of a beard can be seen on his face. While he wears no typical outfit from day to day, red is usually incorporated in some form, the primary color of his house, and all of his clothing is clearly of expensive make. A clear indicator of his status, if his self confidence and ease of giving orders weren't enough.
Height: 5'11"
Weight: 162 lb
Background Information
History: Firstborn of four sons to Margrave Gigoriy IV, it was always Alexei's place to inherit his father's title, though the power that came with it had faded generations ago. The North Basilevsa Republic (South Basilevsa having been absorbed long before) had been governed by a parliament for almost a century, and their lord reduced to more of a figurehead than a ruler. Still, the family was expected to represent the NBR within the Grenheim Empire, and in times of war lead its armies of their Lord Protector.
That did not mean, however, that life was any easier for Margraves. With less time spent on governance, it had become a tradition to patrol the border with the Royal Dragoons and root out any raiders that might have slipped past the vast northern border intending to loot the countryside. Whether on patrol, attending parliament (For the Margrave too carried a vote) or traveling on a diplomatic mission, the Lord Protector of the Republic was always on the move.
Alexei himself would prove to be no exception. Though his childhood was unremarkable, he began riding out with his father and the Royal Dragoons at the age of fourteen. At the age of eighteen he rode back with his father's corpse, and assumed the mantle of Margrave. Since then he has spent most of his time patrolling the border with his men, and keeping in eye on the south for trouble within the Empire. Having little time to make any close friends outside of the mean he leads and his family.
Brief Personality: Amongst his family or men Alexei could be considered almost normal. Always mindful of his station, but free to joke and have fun. Though remaining mindful about the status difference between himself and commoners. Even while relaxed he isn't one to let someone rise too far above their station. Still, this is the least that can be expected from one of the nobility. This of course does not apply to his family members, the only people which he can act unrestrained around and comfortable that nothing he does will degrade the status of both him and the title he carries.
While in public however he is duty-bound and gravely serious. Trading pleasantries but not indulging in small talk if it can be avoided, and trying to get down to business as quickly as possible. There is a sense of self assurance and power that radiates from him as someone who knows and takes pride in their position, though this does not prevent him from bowing to the few people in the Empire who are above his station. The NBR has always bowed its head willingly to the Empire, and enjoyed a good level of autonomy as a result. A trend which he has no intentions of breaking.
Emotional Bond: ¯\_(ツ)_/¯
Partner: Yulia Zykova
Combat Information
Fighting Style: The NBR is famous for its light cavalry, and the Royal Dragoons exemplify this. As their leader, Alexei fights as they do, often using his maneuverability to disable his opponent, before moving in for the kill once weakened. Generations of fighting against raiders has generally removed any notion of there being honor in combat in the north, and any opening that presents itself will be exploited by Alexei. Whether this means a well timed pistol shot during a melee bout, or throwing a handful of gunpowder in the opponent's face to create an opening. While mounted none of these tricks are needed for him to beat most opponents, but on foot it helps to level the playing field against those more skilled than him.
Equipment: 2x flintlock pistols A 32 inch cavalry sabre, in the style used by the NBR, and with a blue&gilt blade. A thick overcoat commonly worn in the north, provides good protection against bladed weapons but is horrifically warm in most seasons. Tundra, his grey gelding. Gwaecledd, the blunt celestial sword.
Weaknesses: He can be quick to anger and slow to forgive, particularly if he feels an insult to his family name/title. Also, his extreme sense of duty can prevent him from getting close to people of a lower social class. Not because he thinks less of them, but because the association might cause others to think less of him, and more importantly harm the prestige of his family.
Celestial Gear Information
Name: Gwaecledd
Type: Sword
Appearance:
Function: Life's Blood - Prevents the wounds of the user the bleeding, but does not actually heal any injuries or regenerate lost body parts.
Miscellaneous Information
Likes: Above all his family, the satisfaction of protecting his realm, fencing, riding Dislikes: Recalcitrant behavior, warm weather, parties Hobbies: Riding, literature, fencing, hunting. Character Theme: La Madruga (Theme of the NBR) Other: Current living family includes Anna (Mother, 50), Sergei (Brother, 20), Boris (Brother, 16), and Nikolay (Brother, 11) Alexei shoots left handed when wielding a pistol.
Full Name: Yulia Zykova Gender: Female Age: 21 Appearance: Not particularly physically intimidating, Yulia generally comes off as a rather unremarkable individual. High-quality attire and the company she keeps aren't quite enough to offset her relaxed appearance, making it visible that she herself isn't quite as high status as those things might imply. Nonetheless, she makes an effort for the sake of keeping up appearances, and to the untrained eye would appear to belong well enough.
Her clothes, while clearly tailored to fit her, are more practical than ornamental - though she won't shy away from dressing up if the situation calls for it, she prefers the security of a more robust outfit that she doesn't mind getting dirty. After all, helping the injured and sick doesn't always lend itself to cleanliness.
Height: 5'6" Weight: 136lbs
Background Information
History: Taken on as a servant in the household of the Margrave of the North Basilevsa Republic at ten years of age, Yulia spent a couple of years scrubbing floors and washing dishes before being noticed by the lady of the house. Not for any exceptional service or work, but rather for her keen intelligence; and, perhaps, her habit of squirrelling away books from the library. Literacy, after all, was at least somewhat rare to find in one so young, at least where the general populace were concerned.
After much deliberation, Lady Anna extended Yulia a generous offer - instead of continuing her servitude, she would instead be taken on as a student and tutored in the art of magic. Accepting eagerly, the girl found herself taken in to the family as her studies began, although she was kept from the public eye. For all that she was accepted, after all, she would never quite have the status of those around her.
As her apprenticeship progressed, Yulia began looking into supportive magic, hoping it might help her tend to the soldiers of the family as they returned from dealing with the many northern raids that plagued the region. Though her inexperience left her far more dependent on medicine than magic, she was more than a help when it came to returning them to full strength. Over time, she grew closer with the family as a whole, in particular Alexei - the two of them becoming borderline inseparable.
Brief Personality: Yulia is a fairly humble young woman, content with her place in life and thankful for it. Keenly aware of her status compared to that of her bonded partner, she nonetheless doesn't appear to hold any resentment towards the situation - though she might have a moment of melancholy now and again. For the most part, it appears to be nothing more than material for the occasional joke at her own expense.
Despite her humble origins, she has a fairly high opinion of her own intelligence and can be a bit of a know-it-all at times. She also doesn't shy away from manipulative behaviour if it will serve some benefit to her in the long run, no matter how well-intentioned and friendly she might appear on the surface. With the exception of those few people she is closest to, Yulia is a bit of a fair-weather friend.
Emotional Bond: ¯\_(ツ)_/¯
Partner: Alexei Ilyin-Melikov
Combat Information
Fighting Style: Yulia's magic is focused entirely around supporting and healing others, with no real offensive potential of its own. As such, most of her time on the battlefield is spent trying to stay out of the way from the real fighting, staying in cover as best she can while keeping as far away as is reasonable from the more powerful combatants. When working with her partner, the extra benefits granted by her protections and buffs more than make up for her own lack of attacking power.
Equipment:
Bandages/sutures
Assorted herbal medicines
Small knife
Flintlock pistol
Journal
Weaknesses:
With no real combat ability of her own, Yulia needs someone around to do the fighting for her and protect her from attacks.
She has a tendency to underestimate people that causes trouble more often than not.
Celestial Potential Information
Focus: Healing/Support
Spells
Name: Restoration Function: Allowing for rapid healing of wounds, Yulia's most powerful healing spell requires her to be within a few metres of the injured. It also can't keep someone fighting forever - while she could heal a life-threatening wound, the shock and fatigue from sustaining such an injury will remain, and using it more than once or twice a day takes its toll on her through a mixture of exhaustion and skull-splitting headaches. As such, bugging her to heal minor wounds will almost certainly leave her wanting to kick you through a wall.
She also can't use it on herself.
Name: Adrenaline Function: When used, the spell allows the affected person to be stronger, faster, and react more quickly to incoming threats for several minutes. However, when the effect wears off it does the opposite, with a brief come-down period that leaves the target sluggish and off-balance.
Name: Cure Function: Cures illness and removes poison from a person's system. Fatigue caused by these conditions will still remain for the cured individual. The time it takes to work depends on the severity of the condition; the more serious or life-threatening the disease, the more time Yulia will need to use the spell in order to cure it. Much like the healing, she can't really use it on herself.
Miscellaneous Information
Likes: Snowy days, birds, jewellery and art Dislikes: Fire, being alone, nosy people Hobbies: Reading, playing cards, creating herbal concoctions and talking people into trying them. Character Theme: Russian Winter Other: She's slightly allergic to cats, and is a fantastic cook.
Most people would never believe for an instant that Liv is a threatening individual based on looks alone. By all appearances, she’s an underfed, frail looking street rat, and the fact that she’s alive is by the grace of some higher power. Certainly, the thief is just a fraction too thin, her naturally pale skin contrasted too deeply by the rich, dark tresses of raven hair, hazel eyes sometimes paling in the sunlight to such a faded color that they might be grey. Her features are equally delicate, much to her chagrin, marred more often by dirt than by injuries. The frailness of her frame is a deception given away by the ferocious hunger in her gaze, always seeking more, always seeking something, even if it may cost someone else everything.
Alas, for someone that steals for a living, Liv’s clothing is always a little lacking. While she has a certain preference for simple clothing that doesn’t hamper her mobility, she’ll wear whatever she can get. The folds always hang just a fraction too baggy, and nothing ever seems to quite fit her. Most of her wardrobe is also decidedly ratty, dirt stained at best, torn and fraying at worst, but Liv couldn’t care less. So long as she can move freely in it, she will wear it.
The most striking feature that Liv possesses, however, is the shock of white hair, a pristine streak amid strands the color of the night sky. The imperfection is caused by piebaldism, a condition which is also the cause of a triangular patch of white skin on her forehead (she does her best to cover this with her bangs at all times) as well as two symmetrical patches on her ankles, and a small spattering of white blotches like stars across the small of her back. Though these imperfections are difficult to see without close examination thanks to Liv’s already pale flesh, the girl covers them as best she can with clothing whenever possible.
Liv’s earliest memories are of the streets. Born to no-name peasants and raised by scum even lower than that, the girl never really knew a different way of life. A street rat, a nuisance, and a threat—that was all she’d ever really known herself to be. She’d never been lonely—at first, the younger street rats banded together in the face of adversity—but she’d always been wary where survival had to come before anything else.
Cecily dove into the alley, her slender body fitting into a small gap without issue as she heard Richard being dragged out into the open.
In terms of a street rat’s life, Liv never considered her life to be extraordinary. She followed people that helped her survive, adopted whatever names they decided to give her as a temporary identity, then abandoned them when she either outgrew or outlived them. She never considered the idea of rising to a standing above that, and to a certain extent, the girl was content with where she was. Living was hard, but it provided her something to do. Steal this, pilfer that, provide for whoever decided that she was worth keeping around as company, treat everyone as though they might discard her like garbage because she knew they would.
Beatrice curled her fingers around her dagger, her breath coming to a stop before she stepped out from the shadows. Henry didn’t hear the younger thief’s footsteps as she approached, didn’t see the flash of a rusty blade until after she had moved it across his throat.
With each successful act of thievery, Liv grew more daring with her actions. Commoners and merchants aside, the girl started finding her hands lifting coins from men and women dressed in finer clothing, looking for items that no peasant would be able to afford. The payoff was astoundingly higher and the challenge greater. What first started as an act of necessity soon became a twisted method of entertainment, and it went well…until she met Vitus, that was. It was supposed to be an easy mark, a quick little nip and lift, but somehow, things had gone awry.
It was more out of petty vengeance than anything else that Liv decided to begin pilfering everything in Vitus’s home. Cutlery, bowls, food—anything that she could get her hands on, really, and she received something that other marks simply didn’t give her. Adversary. A challenge. Every time her deft little fingers managed to make off with something, a new trap was added, a new security measure was set into place, and it was exhilarating. The girl quickly made Vitus’s estate her new “home” of sorts, leaving only to steal what was necessary for living, warding off other thieves when they dared to approach. Vitus soon became the longest lasting relationship Liv had ever had with another human being. The threat of imminent death or being hauled off by guards didn’t exist, she didn’t feel a nagging reminder at every turn that she might outlive or outgrow the noble, and it was...different from her other partnerships. She found herself growing fond of her challenger, settling into the identity that she’d given Vitus.
She hasn’t had to abandon it yet, and she’s content with that.
Given Liv’s background, the girl’s personality is almost predictable. A little crude, rather vulgar, and filled with a dastardly fire that keeps her alive, Liv certainly comes off like the urchin she is. Though she keeps herself out of the way out of habit and will frequently observe a target for extended periods of time, Liv’s personality keeps her in constant motion, keeps her always doing something to keep survival on the mind. Some call her restless, but she likes to consider it as “wary”.
Naturally, there are a few things that come with the territory of being a thief, and a few things more when stealing happens to be a cornerstone of one’s being. Greed, for one thing, is something that most people would call Liv’s vice, and they wouldn’t be entirely wrong. She’s always seeking something new to add to her collection, and it doesn’t have to be a physical thing. Knowledge, information, treasures of anything that she can lay her fingers on, Liv desires to some degree. Just about the only thing she doesn’t thirst for is status, and even that is because she understands the loss of freedom. Of course, the price of being content with her greed is the fact that Liv is territorial to a fault. If she views something as hers, there is very little that she won’t do to keep it that way. Her territory, her people, her things. Hers, hers, hers, and nobody is to touch it.
It goes without saying that Liv’s lifestyle has also left her with a crippled conscience. That isn’t to say that she is entirely devoid of the concepts of remorse or guilt, but with so few people to tell her right from wrong, the thief has never had to consider the ethics of her actions. That said, she doesn’t find issue in taking actions that others might find morally questionable for her own benefit. After all, as a street rat, it’s a dog eat dog world.
Somewhere between rivalry, friendship, and fondness. It’s hard to classify. All she knows is that Vitus is her mark.
Vitus Ayolous
Liv fights exactly as one would expect a thief to fight—dirty and rough. She utilizes ambushes and unpredictable, if a little dishonorable, tactics when forced into combat. The girl isn’t stupid enough to think that her slight frame can overpower many, so she relies primarily on resourcefulness and cunning paired with an undeniable instinct to survive. Ambushes, sneak attacks, the manipulation of any damn weakness that Liv can find? All fair in her book—there’s no such thing as a dirty fight. While she lacks any significant experience against trained soldiers, she’s spent most of her life evading watchmen and guards when possible and incapacitating them when not.
1 misericord (stolen from Vitus), 2 rondel daggers (stolen from Vitus's guards), 1 fork and spoon (stolen from Vitus), 1 fancy bowl (stolen from Vitus), and Avarice, the dagger-type celestial gear (not stolen from Vitus).
"By chance, does any of that not belong to me?"
Liv is small, underfed, and nowhere near strong enough to overpower a typical opponent in a head on battle. She also lacks much true combat training and is quick to give into urges to enact petty vengeance. No, it doesn’t matter which side the target is on. Liv’s tendency to view other people as enemies also tends to put a hamper in the entire concept of teamwork or communication.
Allows the wielder to take and remove items from shadows cast by the wielder. Living things cannot be pulled into the area of effect and items must be able to fit within the cast shadow to be pulled in or taken out. If the shadow is somehow removed while an object is being put in or taken out, the object breaks. Melding the wielder’s shadow to another cast shadow does not increase the area of the wielder's shadow. The pocket currently has a volume limitation of approximately one wardrobe.
Fruit, horses, dogs, mint, and colorful objects.
Other thieves, snails, people touching her things, that one particular servant at Vitus's place...
Stealing, hiding, stabbing people, humming when she thinks nobody's around.
★❜ Liv is somewhat literate. While not as capable as any noble, Vitus's meddling has managed to let her start to piece together the basics of reading. She generally lacks the patience to do it because it takes her quite some time to slowly cobble together even the simple notes Vitus used to leave her. She isn't able to write. ★❜ Liv does not have a full name and has a habit of abandoning names given to her by people she's moved on from--she doesn't remember all of them. Liv just happens to be the latest and longest lasting of the bunch. ★❜ Apples are her favorite food. ★❜ Has exceptional musical sense and perfect pitch ★❜ She's very, veeeery flexible.
Vitus is a young man that flaunts an air of confidence at first glance. However, upon second and subsequent glances, it becomes very clear that this isn't purely confidence, it's downright arrogance. Vitus has what could purely be described as 'a face you just want to reach out and slap'. His clothes are perfectly ironed so there is not a crease to be found, his hair is perfectly washed and dressed so it perfectly cascades over his shoulders. Even from one look, it is easy to tell that this is a spoiled man who has likely never faced any resounding conflict in his life. Vitus knows this, and he is perfectly fine with maintaining such an appearance.
Vitus is the youngest child to a rapidly failing noble lineage, though Vitus is either completely unaware of this fact, or does not care in the slightest. Once, there was a beautiful family of three sons and a single daughter, though plague has long-since stripped the family down it's least deserving member: Vitus. As far as Vitus knows, his father still lives; likely run off somewhere in either madness or a desire to start fresh. The closest thing to parents that Vitus has known are his head servants: The Butler, Markus, and the Maid, Meldioline. An older married couple who never really wanted to raise children, and now certainly never want to again, they raised the child to the point his is now.
For his part, Vitus grew into the aristocrat role alarmingly fast. He quickly became the spoiled child that everyone somewhat expected him to become, and raised the mantle of his family higher than his father ever could have. A perfect face at parties, a gracious host when he held his own, and an excellent friend to all the people he needed to schmooze it up with. If he had any sort of large-scale plan, many people would call him an excellent manipulator. However, the actual truth is simply that Vitus is perfect for his role as a member of the fat and happy aristocracy, if nothing else.
With everything at his beck and call, Vitus really never had anything for him to overcome. No thrilling tale of rival aristocrats, no daring deeds of his to preform, not even a story of him attempting to rebuild his family name. For the most part, he was happy to wallow, grow old, and die. Of course, every interest story needs something to liven it up, and this is where the pathetic street rat enters the pages. One failed robbery attempt, and an apparent fixation on the Ayolous family fortune, and the household picked up a stray. A stray who steals all the cutlery and eats all the fancy mints.
That's not to say that Vitus isn't amused by the prospect. Liv has quickly become a pilfering match to what he believes is his flawless wit, and the relationship between the two quickly grew into a sort of working-rivalry between the two. He'd set up numerous traps and obstacles in her way, and she would escape and elude them almost perfectly. Then he'd make them more numerous and complex, and the cycle would continue. It's hard to tell exactly what Liv thinks of Vitus, but in his mind, she almost makes up for the friends Vitus lacked as a child. Not that he would ever admit or consciously come to that conclusion; she is just a pitiful street urchin, after all.
Vitus is arrogant and reluctant to acknowledge his own mistakes; that much is likely all that people will ever gather about him. However, he almost seems to have a self-awareness to him. Like he knows that he has these character flaws, and still does absolutely nothing to try and fix them. He constantly flip flops between incompetence and clarity, to the point where it's impossible to tell if one's an act, an accident, or some sort of weird multiple personality disorder.
An unhealthy mix of an egocentric desire to keep around the only person Vitus belives can match his wit, and the even more egocentric desire to finally one-up her in said contest of wits.
Liv
Vitus has never been in fight before. Without proper training, he would likely default to girly slapping and/or hiding behind someone more expendable capable.
Vitus has brought nothing with him save for the clothes on his back, and the rapidly dwindling coinpurse that Liv keeps sticking her filthy mitts into. Through nobody's fault but his own, he's under the impression that everything he needs will either be provided, or easily purchased.
As mentioned numerous times before, Vitus has really never faced conflict. He is entirely unprepared for dealing with the world outside of nobility.
Position
Vitus can create a one-time-use portal that anybody can utilize. These portals can be no more than 5ft apart, must be vertical (as if they were a doorway) and immediately shut upon a single creature passing through. If more than one creature attempts to pass through, they simply pass through the portal as though it was not there. Vitus can open/close these portals at will, though he can only have one portal active, and cannot close them if they are being used. In the event that one does close while someone is using it, the entirety of their body appears as if they had successfully used the portal, with no reprecussions.
Vitus can freely lock a creature's limb to a certain place, or drag them around by the selected limb. This ability manifests as a small length of slik wrapping around the affected body part like a rope, either anchoring to the ground, or attempting to pull to wherever Vitus desires, and he cannot summon more than one length of rope at a time. The rope itself cannot hurt creatures (i.e, cannot make a noose), but it can pull them into harmful situations. The rope cannot pull more than a signifcant amount of weight, and can be broken with equally significant force. Vitus can also use this ability to pull inanimate objects, though they must still fall within the weight restriction.
Vitus can launch a targeted enemy, ally, or himself 10ft into the air. Anybody launched with this ability suffers the subsequent falling damage, though they can also attempt to mitigate the fall as normal. This ability requires 20 seconds before it can be used again, although it can be used on targets that are already in the air.
Wren is a shapeless and wiry little thing as a result of malnutrition and years of relentless tree-climbing. Her eyes are a deep shade of brown, appearing almost entirely black at first glance and her skin is lightly tanned (beneath the layer of dirt that so often coats it). She has thick, untamed eyebrows and even thicker raven black hair that is unevenly cut just below her chin.
Wren is rarely seen without her handcrafted tiara of carefully chosen twigs, adorned with an old broken broach that rests on the center of her forehead. Though a lovely (if somewhat crude) headpiece, the ornament is typically half hidden by a choppy curtain of side swept bangs as well as a large, pointed hat. The hat is made of sturdy fabric, once likely belonging to someone quite practical. Now in Wren's possession, however, it seems as though it has seen better days. Thus is the tale of most nice things belonging to Wren-- namely a thick cloak with slits (to accommodate the massive backpack she carries around with her), boots so tattered that they are scarcely held together by a few strips of old, discolored clothe, leather leggings with several rips and tears, a ratty old tunic and a terribly abused fur vest.
Wren’s love for collecting pretty things comes through in the many trinkets adorning her person. “Pretty”, in this case, being as objective as Wren is discerning. The nearly flawless skull of a young deer and a pair of small antlers tied with twine drapes over the front of her bag, clinking and clattering wherever she goes. Also of her own design, a string of small bones, smooth and interestingly shaped rocks, and tiny, milky white crystals hangs around her neck. She is a creative soul, using only the finest of feathers to braid into her hair while using those less perfect for restocking the short skirt that peaks out from under her tunic and cloak.
Wren’s presence doesn’t only bring with it spectacular visuals and auditory delights, however. There is no single word that perhaps does the olfactory assault of her nearness more justice than “strong”. Her scent is very earthy with the undertone of pungent body odor that tends to occur when rain water and occasional dips in the creek during the warm months is one’s only association with hygiene. Her finest saving grace are the flowers and herbs she collects and decorates her hat with regularly. Rosemary, thyme, sweet woodruff and sage all serve as a mostly sturdy mask. They also happen to compliment Wren's floral arrangments quite well-- which, of course, is what's really important.
History:
To most villagers living near the thick Balwyn Forests, Wren began as a rumor. A phantom, an imp, a witch. An evil, mischievous thing that would steal your belongings and slip a razor sharp claw between your ribs the moment you weren’t looking.
The truth is far less mystical.
Wren grew up in the woods alone. For how long, nobody knows. Even Wren tends to have a difficult time recalling the order of events. Calendars aren’t very commonly found in the woods—nor are helping hands. Wren learned quickly that animals and the elements are rarely ever on your side (as she had once heard in so many fairytales). Even so, in her younger years she relied heavily on her imagination to combat the harsh truths of her world. She would never surrender control, she decided. Before long, the forest was her kingdom and she, its ruler. Anyone else was either a trespasser or subject—neither of which she was very prone to trusting.
She has since done away with such childish fantasies, coming to better understand her place in the world as well as society. Still, old habits die hard and Wren is still Wren. She will never surrender control.
Brief Personality:
Wren is a young woman of very few words— both figuratively and literally. Though her vocabulary is limited, however, Wren is very opinionated, stubborn, and will not hesitate to look down her nose at anyone she deems 'odd'. Given the longevity of her estrangement, she has had yet to meet a single person for which a different adjective was even necessary. Even Amelie is a poor example of an exception.
Wren is very crafty. Wood whittling and jewelry making are only a few of many hobbies she took on during her life of solitude in the woods. Her ability to create was certainly essential when it came to trapping meals, but she prefers crafting animal figurines and necklaces to such practicality. Still, a girl's got to eat. Sometimes, however, food tends to run scarce.
During such times of need, the mulishly sovereign Queen Wren concocted a way in which to obtain provisions. Trade. And with the value she placed on her many creations being so ridiculously high, a humiliatingly unfair one at that. Over the years, she has come to acknowledge the fact that a few of her trades may have tipped a bit in her favor, but by then her theivery methods had become more reliant on habit than sense.
Emotional Bond:
The tale of Wren and Amelie began in much the same way as any person trying to bond with a stray animal. For over a year, Amelie was nothing more than a source of food and the occasional sock. Over time, however, Wren reluctantly began to feel for the girl. In spite of her best judgement, she found herself tormented by feelings she hadn't felt for anyone but the vague recollection of a mother that often made her feel sad and uncharacteristicly alone on dark and stormy nights. It was grudging at first, but eventually Wren's visits became more frequent and she found that being in the company of someone like Amelie suited her quite well.
At the present, Wren is very protective of Amelie (though she still often struggles with flighty tendencies). Amelie is reliably her very best and only friend. In a way, she feels as though the girl is hers. Always there whenever she chooses to hang around and never too far behind when she decides to wander.
Partner: Amelie
Fighting Style:
Whenever Wren's dirt and tiny bone riddled appearance is not enough to deter any who dare cross her, she is most reliant on speed and stealth. Never having ventured very far from her forest, she knows it like the back of her hand. Her size certainly helps when it comes to fitting inside nooks and crannies. And although small she could certainly out climb just about anyone. Other than that, Wren's only defense is her trusty whittling knife. It has served her well, but has rarely ever been used in actual combat. Her commitment to avoiding human contact is most likely to thank for that.
Aside from the occasional scuffle with a territorial animal, Wren has no outstanding combat experience.
Equipment:
- one very large backpack, teeming with supplies (as always) - an assortment of animal carvings, some unfinished - a whittling knife - a spool of twine - rope (20 yards) - a rolled up blanket - two mismatched pairs of dirty socks - one extra but equally filthy tunic - a small pouch filled with rocks and crystals - a small wooden box filled with animal bones/skulls in good condition (also a few pilfered sewing needles) - a leather canteen of water - a small bundle of impressively straight sticks - extra herbs, flowers, and twigs - a few slices of jerky wrapped in a leather rag - a bottle of black ink
Weaknesses:
Once caught, the amount of brute force required to overcome Wren is exceptionally small. Additionally, Wren is easily stumped by complex problems, puzzles, and large words. This almost always results in swelling frustration for Wren, but more importantly can cause a fatal break down in communication as she often has a hard time admitting when she doesn't understand.
Focus concept: Nature
S P E L L S
Name: Trap! Function: As the eloquent name chosen by Wren suggests, this ability traps an enemy in place by summoning powerful roots from the earth. The roots wrap around what ever part of the target is closest to the ground, though they cannot reach anything past 3 feet. Wren's roots can spawn within and pierce through solid rock, granite, and wooden floor boards, thus enabling her to use the ability in less likely places. The range within which Wren's target must be is 25 yards. The hold only lasts 5 seconds and can only be used as quickly as a 30 second interval will allow.
Name: Sharpen! Function: This spell works in tandem with Amelie's gear. It summons rose vines that wrap tightly around the gear, enveloping it with red, white, and pink roses as well as sharp, slightly larger than average thorns. The vines will stay in place for up to ten minutes, although broken or dulled thorns will not regenerate. Wren must wait the full 10 minutes before she is able to recast the spell.
Name: Spit! Function: Wren posesses the ability to convert her saliva into a select number of magically enhanced toxins based on certain plants. It only takes a second to initially summon, however she must wait at least two minutes before switching from one toxin to another. While her ability is in effect, her insides are immune to the chosen toxin, however, Wren is still susceptable to her own toxins via skin contact and whenever her ability is turned off. Once a toxin leaves her mouth, it will remain potent for 24 hours before reverting back to regular spit.
Additionally, Wren's tongue changes color depending on the toxin that is in affect.
Jimsonweed
This toxin causes horrifying hallucinations, paranoid delusions, and blurred vision, which can lingers for several seconds immediately after the affects have receded. Prolonged exposure and a very high dosage may result in death.
Duration : 10 minutes. Must be ingested. Color : Yellow
Coca
This toxin, meant to be used as a temporary buff, causes mild euphoria, decreased appetite, decreased fatigue, increased mental and spatial alertness, and can numb pain. Alternatively, prolonged exposure and high dosages may result in scary tactile hallucinations.
Duration : 10 minutes. Must be ingested. Color : White
Giant Hogweed
This toxin merely requires skin contact to be effective. It begins as a red and itchy rash, rapidly developing into severe skin inflammation and blisters, which may leave behind permanent purple scars if not treated quickly.
Duration : N/A Color : Purple
Valerian
This toxin acts as a sedative and calming agent. Low doses can induce calm while higher doses induce sleep.
Duration : Several hours, depending on the dosage. May be inhaled or ingested. Color : Light Pink
Gympie gympie
This toxin causes a severly painful sensation of burning and electrocution, though it does not cause any any actual tissue damage outside of some light swelling and reddening of the affected area. Prolonged exposure could cause shock, but in most cases the pain is so severe that those with low mental fortitude may potential kill themselvesor beg for death. This toxin is extremely potent.
Duration : 5 minutes. May be ingested, inhaled, or injected. Skin contact results in light rash unless the skin is broken. Color: Red
Likes: warm weather, birds, flowers, music, free food, crystals, smooth rocks, and Amelie Dislikes: thunderstorms, beavers, mosquitos, bitter food, most people, big words, being touched and restraints Hobbies: whittling, jewelry-making, trapping, singing, decorating, collecting, exploring Character Theme: Buster Voodoo
Other:
- Wren is picky in all things other than food. Anything that is edible and doesn't taste poisoned is good in her book. - Wren thinks she's really cool. Like... really cool. Her ego allows her to be very easily manipulated. - Although Wren loves to sing, her voice is audaciously mediocre. Not bad, but certainly not as great as she thinks she sounds. - Wren knows two songs. She'll often sing variations of the tunes, inserting words as she pleases if bored enough. It should go without saying that she doesn't understand some of the words in the actual lyrics, but sings them anyway. - The Moss | Garten Mother's Lullaby
“This’ll make a most enthralling tale, don’t you think?”
Full Name: Amelie Laurier Gender: Female Age: 20 Height: 5’7” (170 cm) Weight: 112 lbs (51 kg)
History: Born the third child of a former high-ranking banker, in an eastern village not even worth naming, Amelie would have despised her circumstances if she was capable of such an alarming emotion. Life was about as exciting as a sleepy town of 300 could be and while she loved her family and neighbours, the distant horizons and prospects of adventure were always calling. But the duty to her family remained. She whiled away the days peacefully. As her siblings pursued magical studies, Amelie learnt to read from her father and worked the lands with her mother.
Then her socks were stolen.
The culprit was a vengeful forest spirit at worst, and a ratchety, old vagrant at best. The truth was neither. It didn't take long to catch the thief red-handed: a strange girl with a strong gaze and even stronger odor. Eager to investigate this extraordinary occurence, Amelie began a dialogue of sorts, leaving food and provisions on the windowsill to find them replaced with small animal carvings later. This trade system was the beginning of a friendship that would transform the village girl's humdrum life.
Amelie's bags were packed before the Emperor's messenger had even finished speaking. Though the decree that they were to become warriors was daunting, this was their destiny. Their horizons were going to expand more than they could possibly imagine.
Brief Personality: Frequently described by fellow villagers as an all-around pleasure to be with, Amelie's positive disposition is likely the most distinct aspect you'll find upon first meeting. Polite even when she doesn't need to be, helping wherever she can, it is clear that the girl was raised to be a model citizen.
She possesses a naturally curious mind, one that may sometimes be too inquisitive for her own good. Poor intelligence isn't her vice here, rather it is ignorance and the naivety borne from that. Due to sheer inexperience, Amelie has a habit of seeing things the way she wants to see them, often assuming the best of people even when past encounters suggest otherwise. The tales she's devoured in her books has led her to romanticise the regions outside of Balwyn whilst underestimating the extent of the threats that loom outside the borders.
Emotional Bond: Friendship and unending adoration. What had begun as a mere distraction, a source of fascination and amusement, became a genuine connection over a very short time on Amelie's end. Wren was an adventure in a backwater town, an escape from the monotony of village life. However, it became apparent that the forest-dweller was more than just a storybook legend. She was a girl just like any other, lonely and strange and human. Following a particular adventure in the Balwyn Forests, Amelie became determined to stay by her friend's side, no matter what.
Despite the development in the relationship and occasional misplacement of Wren's ego, Amelie's exuberant admiration for the girl is still very genuine. Even with the passing of many years, the village girl is still fascinated by Wren's crafts and lifestyle, always waiting to see what intriguing thing her friend will do next.
Partner: Wren
Fighting Style: Swing and hit. That's all there is to it, right?
Amelie may be the farthest thing from a soldier as a person can get. In the chaos of a warzone, the best way to cope is to keep things simple and set herself clear objectives and parameters. Hit this, move here, shield them. She moves with a sense of clarity, as if the magic is guiding her actions instead of the other way around. Her unfamiliarity with her new abilities will most likely make it difficult for her to gauge her own strength, resulting in rather destructive incidents.
Equipment: - The standard luggage and provisions. - Handmade bracelet from Wren. - A small sack of Wren’s animal carvings. She didn’t have the heart to leave them behind. - Her emergency coin purse. - A hunting knife she bought as an afterthought.
Weaknesses: Inexperience and the subsequent lack of situational awareness that comes with it. As a simple village girl, for now she lacks the physical strength to wield a war hammer to its full potential. Amelie is easily distracted and will most likely be more focused on Wren instead of other important factors in battle. Dirty tactics will incapacitate and outsmart her if she has not encountered them before. Extended use of her Celestial Gear will take a toll on her ability to defer to others.
When the time comes to take a human life, Amelie's human empathy may cause her to hesitate in potentially fatal situations. The limb, however, is a whole different matter...
Name: Daphne
Type: War Hammer
Function: Dendroo - Amelie's right arm mutates into a gargantuan, multi-jointed, oak tree-esque appendage. The wood is gnarled, writhing and roped with leafy vines. The reformed limb is about as wide as she and is triple her height though Amelie seems unaffected by its mass, being able to swing it around with ease. At its 'base', the growth's roots embed itself into its wielder's side, covering about a third of her chest and jaw. The transformation process takes 10 seconds as her arm undergoes a rather grisly mutation. She can maintain this form for a maximum of 30 minutes and requires an hour-long rest period between each use.
As it currently lacks fingers or digits of any kind, Amelie's primary use for it at the moment is to use the immense strength that comes with the limb and bash it into whatever needs to be bashed. Its size also provides defensive properties, being able to act as a makeshift shield for Amelie and others. However, the wood is about as sturdy as standard hardwood and can indeed be broken under duress. Mobility is also another factor granted by the new arm, though a slight fear of heights makes Amelie hesitant to try this ability.
The limb does have its drawbacks. Opponents with the advantage of speed or even close range will find that the sheer bulk of the limb will make it difficult for Amelie to defend herself. Furthermore, Amelie's main body will be all but paralysed. Extreme strength and mobility in her magical arm comes at the cost of being able to properly move what remains of her human body.
Another drawback that is unknown to even Amelie is that her mental perception of herself as a human fades steadily with use, though its effects seem to revert as soon as she dissipates her Celestial Gear.
Likes: Fresh fruit, Wren’s crafts, the unknown. Dislikes: Tight shoes, tight dresses, cured meat. Hobbies: Reading, drawing, wandering through the woods, looking through Wren’s belongings, subsequently getting scolded by Wren.
Other: - Can't whistle. - Very good with dogs for some reason. - Sings better than Wren but neither of them will admit it. - Has a barely noticeable Rochean accent.
Sporting the face of an alluring young woman, people would be wiser to not be deceived by Gwen’s pretty face and seemingly lithe frame. While she is indeed light because of malnutrition over the years, Gwen’s body is far from being as delicate as what her face makes believe. If one would look at her body beyond the layers of armor or clothing, they would see how well-developed her muscles are. She’s not actually chiseled, but her body is as firm as one would expect a woman hammering metal and lifting heavy materials every day to be.
She may not be as tall or as stocky as the more conventional warriors out there, but she definitely can hold her own in terms of physical strength. Years spent at working the forge assured her greater physical endurance and strength. And yet, Gwen’s skin is sickeningly pale, as if she is constantly ill or feeble.
Hailing from the Ravencroft family, Gwen had known the sweet taste of a luxurious life as a child. Although not explicitly a family of noble, the Ravencroft were renowned for their proficiency at magic, making them a very influential force of scholars. From their discoveries and use of magic, this family made a name for themselves and built their riches and status based on the hardworking generations of magic scholars. Their library of magic knowledge has become vast of the years, result of hardworking members of the family dedicated in unearthing secrets and spending their lives experimenting with the magical aspects of their world.
Gwen is the youngest of two for this most recent generation. Like every other generations of the Ravencroft, she was expected to become a scholar, along with her brother. She was barely a teen when she was introduced to the concept of magic. Whether it was because she was too young, simply too lacking in mental capacity or because of her reading problems, Gwen had a terrible time trying to learn about magic. She couldn’t read the books that contained centuries of lore, not even the most basic of tomes. Seeing the young girl was in fact dyslexic, the older members of the Ravencroft tried another approach. They started tutoring her with verbose teachings, trying to be more practical in her learnings. However, the poor girl didn’t have the mind for such things. Her mind often wandered elsewhere after hearing her tutors for too long. As a kid, Gwen was daydreaming a lot.
Seeing she was a lost cause of a scholar, the Ravencroft decided to abandon Gwen’s training and leave her out of the family business. A rift was created between the girl and the Ravencroft, but the only bridge that kept them together was Alistar, her older brother. Through her hardships, Alistar looked over his younger sister, tried his best to keep her from drifting away. But he could do nothing, seeing he didn’t have any power over Gwen’s inability to learn. Although he was unable to help her, the young boy always remained by her side, comforting her when the elders would call her out as a failure and practically abandoned her.
One day, Gwen had enough of being stepped on for her inability to be a proper scholar and spoke out against the older members of the Ravencroft. Of course, her words were met with harsh punishment as no one respectable elder would allow themselves to be berated by an incompetent child. As a result, Gwen was disowned from the Ravencroft family, since she was of no use to them if she continued to be the family’s greatest shame. Her exile would also serve as an example of what it is to fail at the family’s business and standing up against your betters. Although evicted, the Ravencroft would not be so cruel as to simply throw her out in the streets. Arrangements were made so as she would be sent to an orphanage.
Being against the idea and protective of his sister’s fate, Alistar confronted the elders about their decisions. Alistar wasn’t interested in a future where he failed to protect his sister. As such, he exiled himself from the Ravencroft and join his sister to the orphanage, to the family’s greatest shame. The Ravencroft siblings’ stay at the orphanage would be short-live, however, as Gwen blamed herself immensely for her brother’s predicament. Thinking the orphanage wasn’t the best place for both to start their life anew, Gwen fled the orphanage, looking for a place where her brother and she could call home. Alistar followed her to a ramshackle house that was abandoned outside the city.
From then on, the two children lived quite poorly. As Alistar desperately tried to look for another way to continue his magical lessons, Gwen was completely devoted to her brother’s kindness and protection. Resulting from such admiration, Gwen doubled her efforts to allow both to live on their own as best as she could. She cooked everyday what little food she managed to buy with the coins she’d earn from working at the blacksmith’s workplace as an assistant. Her teenage years were tough, but her devotion to her brother allowed Gwen to never falter in her duties. She would have her moments of weaknesses, but she was never willing to skip work or her duties.
By the time Gwen became a young adult, one could say the girl grew to become on hell of a housewife. House chores and cooking was of no secret to her. Her years spent as an assistant allowed her to develop decent skills to craft metal into tools, weapons and armors. The ramshackle cabin she was inhabiting with her brother was now in decent shape, and their lives started looking up for the better as the young lady started earning more from her developed talents. At long last, she was able to make her brother and herself live a comfortable lifestyle together.
And that’s exactly how the Kingdom heard of the two. The tale of two fallen children from a prestigious family who stuck together through thick and thin and whose love for each other allowed them to surpass hardships. Surely there was something to be made of that strong bond.
If there’s something to be said about Gwen, it would be that she is a passionate woman. Whatever she sets her mind onto something that she loves or interests her, she will give her 200%. As a result, she may come out as excessive in her way of doing things. But according to Gwen, there is no such things as “overdoing it”. She pours her heart and soul into everything she does. There is no room left for half-assing work. It’s either “do or do not”.
Outside of working or other orders of business that required her focus, Gwen is otherwise a very carefree girl. She is sociable and easy to talk to. One would say she is indeed quite naïve, as she opens her mind and heart to anyone out there without suspecting foul play or ill will. In her best of moods, Gwen is playful and loves to be in good company.
But if there is one thing that surpass any one of above traits, it is her devotion to her brother, Alistar. Being the younger sister, Gwen always looked up to her brother in admiration, for he was the better of the two at their lessons. She had always admired how dedicated he was in the pursuit of knowledge, and wished she could be just like him. However, she didn’t have the mental abilities for that. Plus, given Alistar was always so protective of her, she could only but love him for always being there to protect her.
That admiration grew into devotion when Alistar decided to cast away his own lineage to be with an exiled Gwen. Blaming herself for these circumstances, Gwen decided to dedicate her life into supporting the brother who decided to stick with her through her dark times. She could not find any other way than to return a sincere love for her brother from his protective demeanor.
Sisterly Love
With the Celestial Bond set in place between the siblings, Gwen’s love for her brother only grew to such lengths that she is willing to do anything for him and can’t bear the thought of losing him. From an outside point of view, her love might transcend mere sibling love, but that is a secret only kept in Gwen’s heart. No matter what he does to her, she will endure and continue loving her brother dearly.
Alistar A’sarel Ravencroft
Gwen has little to no training in wielding weapons or armors. What little she knows is simple rookie swings of weapons from the weapons she crafted at the smithy she worked for.
A simple sword
A simple dagger
Metalworking tools (repair, mending and sharpening substances and gear)
A lute
Gwen is dyslexic. She cannot read or understand written schematics. Everything she learns, it must be taught with spoken words or visually shown to her.
Given the nature of her brother’s spells and her overzealous nature, Gwen is often injured, ill and steadily becoming weaker. Overexertion from constantly working might be the cause of that too.
Sanguine Grasp is seemingly made of a midnight-colored metal. It covers Gwen’s entire arm and is very resilient to damage. The gauntlet has bladed spines protruding all along the arm, as if to slice and maim anything Gwen’s arm touches. Frighteningly sharp claws effectively replace fingertips on this gauntlet, able to penetrate all but the best armors there is.
This single gauntlet is made to make up for what Gwen loses the most on the battlefield: blood, whether it is by her brother’s spells or by injuries. This gruesome gauntlet’s function is activated as soon as it comes in contact with blood. When the gauntlet touches blood or any other life force belonging to a creature or a living being, it is absorbed into the gauntlet, then distributed to Gwen, turning it into her own blood. Effectively, Gwen can restore the blood she lost through this Gear’s function.
While being stabbed by the gauntlet should be pretty painful by itself, someone being drained of their blood would feel unbearable pain as they feel their blood being extracted from their body, to a maddening extent. Blood consumption is almost instantaneous when it isn’t inside a living being (puddles of blood and corpses). Otherwise, draining blood inside a living being is pretty slow, but painful nonetheless.
Her brother (above all else), physical labor, drinking, sleeping, hugs, music.
Gwen is good with her hands. Whatever small and intricate objects, she can easily manipulate such things and fix them. She is a natural when it comes to crafting metal or fiddling with objects that require dexterous fingers, such as stringed instruments or fine tools.
Being basically a servant in her last moments in the Ravencroft family and years doing chores at her ramshackle home, Gwen is good with housekeeping. Cooking and cleaning is what she does best. Repairing and maintaining are secondary set of skills she obtained.
Jet black hair, sickly pale skin, eyes of crimson, and a frail build establishes Alistar as the typical solitary scholar that spends little time outside of his own research. Both his slightly pointed ears and narrow nose, combined with pale lips give him a rather strange yet enchanting look much like an elf of sorts. His crimson eyes especially help allude to his arcane influences, eyes that are common among his family tree. His slim and frail stature allude to his lack of physical finesse.
He typically sports one of two rather strange but fitting attires(as seen in both FC) one of which being of a yellow studded black and grey garb with pointed leather shoes and a black coned hat studded with bone fragments, as well as a cape with two large rubies and black gloves. This custom made attire the he later modified with his magic is what he usually sports, but in a more casual setting he can be found with nothing more then black trousers and a white cotton shirt. Other times he may also be found sporting a black cloak and cape that hides his face.
History
The Ravencroft family are notorious for their arcane lineage, and that tradition was to be continued with Alistar and Gwen. While Alistar himself was intrigued deeply with the arcane, his sister lacked such interested. Combined with her dyslexia, it was only inevitable that she would be disowned by their family, and when the time came, Alistar he had chosen to abandon his family for his sister’s sake.
It was to be arranged they’d go to an orphanage, but such a place didn’t last as the two left in hopes of a pursuit of a better life. What they got instead was an abandoned building in the outskirts of town. No money, No Supervision, Without any proper tutors Alistar was left only with a few books he took with him in his departure for his personal studies, and his future for the pursuit of magic was looking grim, a sacrifice he still didn’t entirely regret his sacrifice. When he wasn’t re-reading the same pages, he was sure to look after Gwen. Together they had to survive on their own, and despite the odds they were able to survive long enough on their own merit. Gwen was able to provide for the two of them better than Alistar could, to his surprise. It was thanks to her that the two of them were able to live well enough before partaking in the ritual.
Brief Personality
Alistar has no interest in socializing, sport, or any other simple pleasures. His passion lays within the arcane and all of its vast knowledge. Quiet a fanatic over the mystic arts, nothing intrigues him more than researching a new branch of magic or studying magic inscriptions. Is lack of any other interests, and some ounce of regret for leaving his family, have ultimately rendered him the lifestyle of a loner, preferring to himself and his books over the company of others. He has no tolerance for the uneducated, even his sister at times, he is quite rude to those he deems ‘unfit’ to be in his presence. That hostile nature has forged a rather cold-blooded attitude, so much so that he rarely shows much of his own emotion even to that of his Sister. And while there is a very apparent gap between how Alistar feels about Gwen and how she views him, he certainly does care about her in the same role of a typical overprotective brother, despite how little he shows of it. He does not, however, tolerate Gwen’s stronger affections and prefers to ignore it, hoping that such feelings from her are only temporarily and that she will grow out of it.
Emotional Bond
Protective Sibling. Though he share no where near the same level of devotion his Sister has, nor does he tolerate that extreme side of things, he still values her above other priorities as he feels it his duty as a brother. Since their childhood he has always stayed by her aid. But it is that sense of obligation that has made him grow resentful of her in some aspects, the sacrifices he has made to support her have certainly been an expensive tole that has only accumulated mild disdain towards his sister, putting him at taste of simultaneous care and animosity towards her. Partner: Gwen A'ladriel Ravencroft
Fighting Style
Alistar is a cautious strategist who conserves the uses of his spells due to their potential fatal dangers it can hold to both himself and Gwen. He has adoptive a methodically approach to only use the power necessary and not overextend that arbitrary limit for fear of serious wounds. He himself is not much of a fighter, he is far more interested in the scholarly approach of reading then being in the heat of action, and while he can defend himself with his own powers in extreme situations, his inexperience and preference to not dirty his own hands certainly put him at a disadvantage.
Equipment
A simple iron dagger.
Several books and tomes illustrating novice information of magic.
Necromancy
Spells:
Sphere of the Bloodline
The spilled blood of a Ravencroft’s can be siphoned and gathered from the surroundings and collected into a magically formed sphere that can store up to a quarter gallon of blood. Bits and pieces of bones can also be collected. This sphere levitates and can move anywhere within a 3 meter radius of the user. The container can either leak a certain amount of blood or shatter itself to allow use of the stored content of blood for spells. Container can be destroyed as it as durable as quartz, but can be reformed after a 1 minute cool down.
Blood Painter
Alistar can control Gwen’s blood to manipulate and control it vastly by changing the shape and form of the blood, enough where it can potentially become near-solid and sharp like a blade, or resemble something like a tentacle. While the size of the blood creations can be increased, there is a limit to how large such creations can grow or stretch based upon how much is used from the original blood sources mass. Alistar has free control over the blood of anyone with the blood of a Ravencroft (including himself, but due to the pain of which he tends to avoid that option entirely) even within one’s body but has to be careful to not draw too much without causing her to pass out or die, let alone the injuries that would be inevitably caused by it. Blood that is being bended by this ability will gradually evaporate over time, making continued use difficult.
Bone Sculpter
Alistar can ‘sculpt’ any form of bone matter so long as it is no longer apart of its owner’s body (or if the owner is dead.) Unlike his blood painter ability, the manipulated bone matter isn’t as fluid as liquid resulting in more rigid creations. In contrast, the limit of growth from the source is greater than his blood bending skill and these creations can not only be more complex in design but also do not evaporate over time and thus they tend to be more permanent. Bones susceptible to his will can also be levitated telekinetically with an overall range of 6 meters, and can be thrown as effectively as a javelin. The weight limit for this telekinetic control is 300 lbs.
Full Name: Lenore Renee Clairemont Gender: Female Age: 15 (and ten minutes older than Lottie!)
Appearance
Lenore’s appearance is what one might describe as odd. Her silver locks fall in a loose curl, just grazing slightly upon her shoulders as she moves. Unlike her sister’s softer expressions and more friendly blue toned eyes, Lenore more often sports a harsher gaze, only softened by its moonlight hue. While these traits are definitely uncommon in the nation of Grenheim, the Clairemonts only moved here some generations ago, and their unique foreign traits have since stayed in the family tree.
Though Lenore looks quite identical to her twin sister, Lottie, they have long abandoned any desire to look the same since their tumultuous days in childhood. Their mother would often force them in congruent attire; they were an attraction for travelling merchants staying at their inn and a tool to rake in additional income. Those who knew the two closely were quick to pick up the subtle differences; Lenore was energetic, sharp, like the rhythmic chop of a kitchen blade. Lottie possessed a vacant countenance, as if in a trance-like state, likely due to her late night artistic activities.
As they grew older, the differences between the sisters became increasingly apparent. Their family had enough food and dressed well, though Lenore wore tighter garments as a silent boast to her sister of her toned physique. On the other hand, Lottie favoured loose-fitted robes that lightly draped over a more pliable frame. Often found in her youth running around doing somersaults and cartwheels with town kids, Lenore has always been the athletic one of the pair. She was obviously more vain as well, never seen in front of the inn’s guests without a light dusting of powder and her favourite dark rouge.
Height: 5’2” Weight: 105 lbs
Background Information
History
Lenore and Lottie Clairemont were twins daughters of an innkeeper, residing in the southeast corner of Grenheim close to the Lyngald and Yondaris borders. Their inn saw a lot of guests moving to and from the different nations, people from different walks of life. While they were still young, Lenore remembers spending her days playing with her sister, Lottie, in and around the inn - though they were frequently chastised by their mother for disturbing guests in the establishment with their rambunctious merrymaking. Though their lifestyle was humble and simple, Lenore enjoyed the peace that came with it.
The twins’ father, a peculiar yet stern man, had owned the inn since before his daughters were born. As they would learn as they grew older, their father had been involved in less than savory business dealings with merchants and high-ranking officials and nobles of different kinds. Lenore and Lottie were only five when his father failed to anticipate and evade the consequences of his dealings. Luckily for the girls, they happened to be hiding in a small cabinet of the inn’s kitchen while a team of men burst through its doors. The guests quickly ran out as they thrashed about, breaking and rummaging through every object in sight. Tables, chairs and beds were smashed, cutlery strewn across the floor. They took whatever looked valuable to them - a coin purse left in their parents’ room, jewelry and other trinkets. All Lenore could remember was gripping her sister tightly to her chest in the darkness of the small cabinet, trying to block Lottie’s ears from the earth-shaking pound of the men’s every move.
When the roar of the clamor slowly dwindled into a silence, Lenore could hear the faint shouts of their mother’s voice permeating through, calling their names in search for them. The small girl left her hiding spot with her sister in tow, running towards the source. The sight was devastating - the inn was ruined and all their possessions had been taken away if not destroyed. Their mother asked what they were doing in the cabinet. What were they doing in there anyway? Lenore couldn’t remember. The next few days passed by like a blur.
To start anew, Lenore’s father made the decision to move the family south and a little more west in a region near Illdarum and Argonne, on a path that merchants frequent. With the remaining money they had left and a hefty bank loan, they purchased another inn to rebuild the business back up from scratch. For awhile they had little to eat as most of the earnings went back to repaying their debt. During these years, Lenore and her sister came to know both the kindness and cruelty of people, some who found enough heart to sympathize with their situation, and others gave only cold shoulders.
By the time the twins were 8, everything started feeling more normal again. They were steadily making more and more income as their inn attracted more guests. However, no matter how much they asked and poked, their father never disclosed the full details of what happened that night, years ago. Lenore and Lottie learned nonetheless of his shady business dealings and how he’d take part in the smuggling of goods from foreign nations. These affairs continued in his new inn, and when they grew a little older he enlisted the help of his daughters, giving them small, secretarial duties for the most part. They were taught a basic level of literacy, just enough to get a message across to nobles and rich officials in letters. Despite the dubious nature of these dealings, Lenore never had any reservations for taking part in it; to her, it was what provided her a comfortable lifestyle, and it was a simple truth that crooked proceedings happened beneath the surface of society.
Lenore’s life until now has been quite peaceful, quiet. Every once in awhile, she’d help her father with his tasks, though most of the time she was working in the inn with her mother. Greeting guests, assigning rooms, cleaning and serving tea or ale consists of most of her duties that she performed alongside Lottie. It was always exciting to hear stories from far away, where the travelling guests and merchants were from, and see the interesting yet unusual items they’d bring. Whenever they got the chance, Lenore would explore larger towns nearby and shop in their vibrant markets. This carefree life of hers was interrupted the day the Emperor’s mages came knocking, conscripting them to undergo the ritual and fight for Grenheim. Their parents were completely against the decree even though they knew nonetheless they couldn’t disobey. Lenore was slightly bitter about having to leave everything behind, but some part of her was still curious about what was to come.
Brief Personality
Young brash and cynical, Lenore is not the person most would prefer the company of. Despite the appearance of a relatively tame girl whilst her lips are closed, a snarky, unrestrained tongue hides underneath. She doesn’t always mean harm when she speaks, but at some point it stopped mattering when people got offended anyway. It almost never occurs to Lenore to tone down her unfiltered speech for the sentiments of others. In many ways, her rude remarks are a way to distance herself from socializing. Following events in childhood, she remained wary of people and developed a cynical mentality that distrusts the motives of those around her. While Lenore still believes that people can be kind, her first instinct is always to doubt.
Lenore can be energetic and bright when not uttering slanderous words, much to the surprise of many. As long as someone can tolerate and see past her penchant for constantly voicing her opinions, Lenore may even appear as friendly. One thing that’s obvious though is her prideful and vain disposition, putting importance on herself above all.
Emotional Bond
Being twins, Lenore and Lottie have grown together since they were born - and before that too - having spent no more than a day’s worth of time apart. Like any other sibling pair, they’ve had their arguments - fighting over jewelry and trinkets and such - but they have many more moments of fun and games. Given how both siblings carry unpalatable temperaments, they often only had the company of each other anyway. They enjoyed their solitude nonetheless, and though they’d never admit, the only people they like as much as themselves - or more than themselves - is each other.
Partner: Her younger identical twin sister: Lottie Rue Clairemont
Combat Information
Fighting Style: Lenore has never fought a day in her life (if you don’t count the occasional brawl with her sister involving hair-pulling and slapping) and never planned to before getting conscripted. Despite her athleticism, Lenore hates pain and would go out of her way to avoid it, making her a less than capable fighter. She’d much rather run away from a fight then confront it, or use tactics that would keep her at a distance safe from getting injured.
Equipment: A tin of tea leaves from her inn and other provisions, a few dresses, a bottle of her favourite perfume, a box of matches and other miscellaneous items. She also brought with her a small coin purse, a portion of her accumulated allowance from working in the inn, leaving the rest with her parents. Her father always said weapons had no place in a lady’s pocket, and thus she never owned nor brought one.
Weaknesses: Other than her total lack of fighting experience, Lenore is more coward than courage. She’ll run rather than fight, and given her self-absorbed nature, she thinks first of herself than the wellbeing of her teammates (with her sister as the only exception).
Celestial Gear Information
Name: Wisteria Type: A pair of iron war fans with spiked spokes - called a tessen - which can also be used as dual-wielded daggers in its retracted/closed form or throwing knives.
Appearance: The fan structure looks like this, but with slightly wider blades to better use as a dagger. The cover of the fan looks like this, a thin grey printed fabric. However, this doesn’t mask the pointed spokes underneath which extend past the cover on top.
Function: Wisteria is a pair of fans that can be controlled by Lenore telekinetically within a range of 5 meters. Seeing that they can double as daggers when closed, Lenore can throw them at a target and have them fly back immediately to her with the telekinetic control. She can also make the fan open and close from afar to deal extra damage - when she manages to jab an opponent with dagger first anyway.
Miscellaneous Information
Likes: Cleanliness, cosmetics, floral perfumes, puppies, beautiful tea sets, cheese, spring, her sister. Dislikes: Naivety, dirt and dust, cold weather, her sister. Hobbies: Makeup, dancing, baking and cooking, spending more than she can afford Theme: [tba] Other: - Lenore likes to cook and bake, although her skills are only average. - She’s very picky with music; she rather not listen to it if it’s not a tune she fancies.
Full Name: Lottie Rue Clairemont Gender: Female Age: 15
Appearance
Her features are soft and grey, like a dust bunny basked in sunlight. Carried with her is a faint smell of jasmine and adhesive. She is the listless daughter of the Clairemont family, Lottie, and twin sister to Lenore.
At a glance, the two were identical. The same wavy silver locks, except Lottie’s is long, abundant but frayed, cloaking and entangling her small body in a cascade of fog and thread; her hair forms silky curls when properly combed but it’s otherwise shamelessly unkempt. The same muted blue eyes, but hers sit atop dark bags: shadows of her late night arts and crafts, much to her mother and fathers’ chagrin.
Frequent use of paper, scissors, and needle for her peculiar crafts have kept her otherwise pristine fingers covered in small cuts and bandages. Her penchant for avoiding physical labour gave her a thin, wispy physique - unremarkable compared to her sister’s. It was often covered by a loose, airy dress or nightgown when not forced into stiff, frilly attire to appeal to the inn’s guests.
Height: 5’2” Weight: 110 lbs
Background Information
History
The Clairemonts were a peculiar family. They ran an inn by the borders of Lyngald and Yondaris, on a road merchants and travelers frequent. Onlookers often raised an eyebrow at the sight of their silver hair but were drawn in by the eccentric yet amicable father of the family, the head of the establishment, and his two lively daughters, Lottie and Lenore.
Lottie and Lenore are identical twins and for the first several years of their lives, they only knew a world by one other’s side. They started their mornings brushing each other’s hair until their curly locks fall in the same place, and ended their nights fending off monsters born from the shadows beneath their bed. When they were young, the two were tasked with seldom more than to be ‘good little girls’ at the inn. Her mother would put them in matching dresses and sent them to greet the guests like ‘proper young ladies’, but the pair refused to settle with just being the subject of “aww’s” and pats. As expected of identical twins, they would switch places and play a few small tricks on the guests. Though out of jest, their antics got them into a bit of trouble and their father, while full of odd behaviours and beliefs, is not one to let their mischief slide.
Living at the inn gave the twins daily exposure to many people of varying quirks, cultures, and social classes. As such, the two were familiar with different sides of society since they were small, both the kind and the impertinent; at the time they were unaware of the deceit and cruelty beneath the surface. Meanwhile, their father was connected to a discreet network of noblemen and merchants of higher status, whom he helped smuggle illegal goods. However, he lacked the insight to prepare for the enemies that emerged from his underhanded activity. One enemy merchant in particular held a grudge against the father for a reason still unknown to Lottie, and hired a group of shadowy men to pillage and destroy their establishment.
The events of that night was a blur to Lottie, but the fear and confusion she felt remains vivid to this day. The sounds of their home being destroyed pounded against the thin walls of their hiding place. The only comfort she found was in the arms of her sister. Though they were both small and defenseless, Lottie felt a strange sense of ease knowing she didn’t have to be scared alone. After hearing their mother’s voice echo in the halls, the two left their hiding place in search of their parents, only to be stopped by the sight of the wreckage. All their assets and possessions stolen or destroyed; the family had nothing left.
To start anew, the Clairemonts moved south to a region neighboring Illdarum and Argonne, where the apparent absence of political tension gave the father some relief. They bought a small lodge using the little money that remained and a bank loan so they could rebuild their business from scratch. For a few years, they had little to eat and the twins could no longer live just being ‘good little girls’; the inn became their burden as well. The two often had to split up during the day to help out either parent, with Lottie mostly performing housework with their mother, much to their dismay. Lottie left her love of frilly dresses behind in favor of loose-fitting clothes because it was easier to perform her chores in. She also spent more and more of her free time in her room due to the anxiety developed from the incident at their old home and started making crafts from paper, needle, and thread to calm her nerves.
By the time they were 8, the business was thriving again and most of their debt was paid back; the family could live comfortably again. The father continued with his dubious dealings, but was now far more careful and keen. He also entrusted the rest of his family, including his two daughters, to aid in his illegal undertakings. Lottie and Lenore were tasked with mostly secretarial duties and were taught basic literacy skills to assist in this responsibility. By now, Lottie has long accepted this shadowy side of her father; a selfish part of her was pleased that the money earned from his schemes played a big role in recovering the family’s livelihood. As they grew older, the twins became part-time housekeepers for the inn, addressing the needs of their guests and engaging in provocative conversations with them about their background and culture. Other times, their father would take them to the city to purchase general necessities - and a splurge here and there for the girls. It was through these visits that Lottie bought more materials to expanded on her arts and crafts, which she pursued long after she made peace with her fears.
However, Lottie’s quiet, cozy life of making peculiar sculptures out of paper and exchanging humorous nothings with her sister drew to a halt when the Emperor’s mages came to their door to enlist them to fight for Grenheim. Their parents were highly opposed to the idea, especially given that their children are but young girls, and Lottie was inclined to agree. However, no amount of arguing and grumbling can resist such a high order - Lottie was forced to yield. Begrudgingly, she packed her light dresses and crafting materials, hoping that she’ll at least have time for her small pleasures.
Brief Personality
Lottie switches back and forth between the living and the dead. Through the window of her bedroom, her ghost can be seen: faded, aloof, and only aware of herself and her quaint little hobbies.
When forced to exist, Lottie is as professional as she is crass. She’s composed and generally well-mannered, but a bit of snark and snickering may slip in. She has a polite and refined style of speech, yet it only serves to coat a thin layer of sugar over her mischievous, eccentric, or at times, rude words. She carries herself with a ladylike posture and rhythmic strides, however this is the extent of work she is willing to do regularly.
Lottie sees life as being too short to spend time away from pleasures and does not like to put effort into activities she deems too uninteresting or difficult. As such, she is short-sighted, opportunistic, and prone to using elaborate arguments in order to escape her chores and responsibilities.
Sometimes a ghost, sometimes a human, but always a self-indulgent sloth.
Emotional Bond
Apart from the two rarely spending over a day away from each other, Lottie herself feels a sense of warmth and ease when around her sister that she herself can’t explain. Lottie only became more appreciative of Lenore after the ransacking incident pushed them to live more separate lives. Being a lazy individual in both mind and body, she has yet to fully explore and express her cynicism and distrust of others. Thus, she lives vicariously through her sister’s more open attitude and criticisms, but is always prepared to support and defend her.
Partner: Her older identical twin sister: Lenore Renee Clairemont
Combat Information
Fighting Style: Like her sister, Lottie has no fighting experience, but she would make for a far worse combatant given she also lacks the athleticism her sister has - and is far to proud of as far as Lottie is concerned. She opts to flee in response to danger, but her attempt to escape is short-lived for she’s neither a hard-worker nor the tenacious type; too big of a fright will prompt her to yield and fall prey to her predator. Her one potential is her creativity and somewhat tactical mind, which can be put to good use in the battlefield; unfortunately she is void of initiative.
Equipment: A box of jasmine tea, loose-fitting dresses, her crafting materials (paper, adhesives, scissors, needle and thread, etc.), and a large blanket.
Weaknesses: Lottie is physically weak/inept, gives up easily as a result of her laziness, and is undeniably far too self-absorbed - only concerning herself over her own well-being, making teamwork quite difficult.
Celestial Potential Information
Focus: Symbiosis
Symbiosis is when two different organisms work in tandem for mutual benefit: the two sisters have lived closely together for their whole life. As of their teenage years, they’ve grown to be two distinct people, but they use their differences to cover for each others weakness. Being more passive and having an eye for shortcuts, Lottie supports her twin sister by making modifications to make her attacks more effective.
SPELLS
Lottie’s potential allows her to change the physical properties, such as weight and temperature, of a person or object she makes a magical connection with. The effect is temporary. The degree of her modification and the amount of time and distance the effect can be maintained is proportional to her skill.
In order to cast her spells, Lottie has a magical, immaterial spool of thread of finite length (15 m) that she can spawn from the tips of her fingers. These are the channels in which Lottie uses to cast her magic through. She needs to wrap the target with her thread to establish the connection, and it can only be maintained for a certain time and distance (dictated by the spool’s length).
Teetering Scale: A target’s weight is modified for the amount of time and distance they remain bound to Lottie’s connection. Her current abilities allow her to change the weight by 20% +/-. Only effects solid material including people.
Wavering Mercury: Similar to above, only the property changed is temperature. Her current abilities allow her to change the temperature by 20% +/-. Effects all states of matter, but only inanimate material.
Push and Pull: Similar to above, only the property changed is velocity. For this spell to work, the object must already be moving in one direction. This spell allows her to increase the speed of the object going either forward (faster) or backward (slower) in a particular direction. Her current abilities allow her to change the velocity by 20% +/- but as of now, she cannot modify the direction. Only effects solid material including people.
Miscellaneous Information
Likes: Jasmine tea, loose clothing, adhesives, patterned/textured paper, hot drinks, being carried. Dislikes: Combs, tight clothing, chores, physical labour and exercise, stubborn people (though she realizes she is one too). Hobbies: Paper crafts, playing pranks with/on her sister Theme:Professor Layton and the Last Specter - Black Market Other:
Her voice is languid (much like her personality), breathy, and somewhat robotic
She enjoys singing to herself but her voice is an eerie whisper at best.
In recent years, she has developed a fondness for making sculptures of disembodied human parts out of paper.
Full Name: Maria Abigail Tepes Gender: Female Age: 18 Height: 156cm Weight: 45kg
Background Information
History: Born to a rather obscure noble family in Warraqia, she wasn't at all that rich, but still, she did not want for much. Not that there was much she wanted, for mostly she desired to sate her cruel desires. Her servants were utterly terrified of her, for her cruel games and sadistic nature. Her family of course, simply let her indulge in her desires, only telling her off should she go too far, for good servants were hard to find. One day, they took her to an arena, on a simple pretense that she needed to go out, though it was actually to alleviate the servant's suffering. It was then that she saw the spectacle of the bloody arena, the violence inflicted for sport, the sheer atmosphere of adrenaline and excitement in the air. Since then she has been frequenting the arena, and inflicting much less pain upon her servants, which both relieved and worried her parents.
It was then that she met him, a large hulking man who seemed to brutalize through his every fight with ease.Without even a second thought, she purchased him as a slave for herself. Oddly enough, afterwards she hardly ever went out of her way to torture or play cruel games upon any of the servants. Her parents and siblings took it as a sign that she was growing up, while the servants merely sighed with relief that none of them would be cruelly harrassed. Noting that the man Maria had purchased seemed to be bloodied at times, her father assumed the man was also teaching her to be calmer in some ways, and made him her personal guard, considering she took him with her a lot.
Brief Personality: Pleasant, polite and genuinely friendly, but has a sadistic streak a mile wide. Tends to view people as objects at times, and finds anguished screams exciting to hear. Can and will do anything she deems necessary. Emotional Bond: Master and Servant. Partner: Heinrich Von Allen
Combat Information
Fighting Style:She prefers not to fight at all, leaving it up to her more gorier companion to fight. Should she be pressed into a close quarter fight however, she would simply fight however she can, though she has no real knowledge of proper fighting techniques, tactics and the likes. Equipment: Her favourite knife, clothings and a lot of things one would expect to have on a long trip like combs, whip, a hand mirror etc. Plus a maid and a manservant, to tend to her more mundane needs. Weaknesses: She's a small girl, all it takes is someone to grab her hands and she would be unable to do much. Nor is she particularly skilled in tactics or any sort of military things for that matter.
Celestial Potential Information
Focus concept: Impalement and Sacrifice Spell list: Name: Spike Function: Materializes a pike or spear of up to 3 m in length in a 10 m radius around her. She can only materialize of up to 3 at a time, with a space of 1 second between each materialization, and can only materialize them on surfaces that she can see. Starts to tire her out exponentially if she materializes them too fast and too much. Can tap into Heinrich's pain to power it, meaning she can accelerate her summoning of it by a factor of two if she uses both her stamina and his pain, but she can also just use his pain to power it normally without using up her own energy. Numbs Heinrich's pain when used. Note:she can't control what comes out from this ability, so different sorts of pikes or spears may come out.
Name: Spike Volley Function: Spike generated pikes or spear can be picked up as if it was but a mere feather, and fly when thrown as if from a balista. Pike or spears cannot be used again after throwing. Can sheathe itself in magical energy powered by Heinrich's pain, creating a small explosion where it hits. Numbs Heinrich's pain when used.
Name: Pain Resonance Function: Pain inflicted on her can be used to resonate with Heinrich's pain, healing them both at the same time. Heals them slowly but surely, as long as both of them feels pain. Numbs Heinrich's pain when used.
Miscellaneous Information
Likes: Pain, the suffering of others, knives, Heinrich, blood, savoury pastries, dogs. Dislikes: Sweet pastries, being dirty, odd novelty clocks, a singular piece of clothing that has more than two colours on it, wigs, bees. Hobbies: Inflicting any sort of physical pain to people. Character Theme: Theme Other: Has an odd habit of licking her lips when thinking hard about anything.
"My life is all but exquisite pain. Join me in this world of mine!"
Full Name: Heinrich Von Allen Gender: Male Age: 25 Appearance: Tall, heavy and muscled, Heinrich is quite a specimen for a man. Years of training without rest turned him into the hulking mass that he has become, as well as benefitting from a lineage of tall men. Strangely enough, the only thing that looks out of place is his long blond hair. For some reason, he lets his locks of golden grow. Height: 6 feet 6 inches Weight: 275 pounds
Background Information
History: Born under obscure circumstances, Heinrich never really enjoyed the sun of the day much during his childhood. Son of a slave whore, his younger days were spent cleaning filth from the most despicable depths that society had to offer. The abuse he went through and witnessed to his mother forged a personality that relished in inflicting pain, and forged a boy who was prone to violence. Fending off a life of slavery, where he needed to give his all to survive every day, Heinrich became a teen who was willing to put his own body on the line to see another day. When he was of a respectable age, Heinrich was sold to the arena, to become a pit fighter. There, he would fight to earn the right to live. There, nobles would get to enjoy a bloody show, and maybe gain profits from the fighter they'd wager their money on.
Born with an impressive stature and survival skills honed throughout his years as a slave, Heinrich was quick to become an excellent fighter. In the arena, he would shed blood without hesitation. Not in the hopes of finding freedom, mind you. He fought for the thrill of the slaughter. The pain made him feel more alive than he ever was before. The death he caused made him feel like he was the master of his own destiny. Little did he know that this sadistic fervor of his would garner a peculiar interest from an onlooking young miss.
One day, after a particularly bloody and gory fight, he met face to face with the girl that would become his master. She had purchased him to become her own personal slave. There was a glint in her eyes that was both familiar and unknown to Heinrich. Once again, he found a life of servitude under his new mistress. However, as used to slavery as he was, never would he had thought that such a master could exist. Her cruelty knew no boundaries. Pain wasn't a thing she feared to inflict should her commands be neglected. Heinrich learnt of it all too much,
Brief Personality: Heinrich is a murderer. No more, no less. He spent way too much time in the pits and enslaved to know manners. He is a crude man, void of empathy and without sense of honor. If weakness is shown to him, he won't hesitate to grab you by the neck and slowly squeeze your life out. Much like his mistress, he is quite the sadist himself. However, he appears to also relish on the pain he suffers. Emotional Bond: Master and Servant Partner: Maria Abigail Tepes
Combat Information
Fighting Style: Heinrich does not fancy grace and precision. His strikes are slow and crude, but tremendously heavy and impactful. He may not be as experienced as a soldier trained in the military, but he spent enough years fighting for survival to know his way in a fight. Also, there is no such thing as an under-handed blow. If an opportunity presents himself, you can be sure he will be willing to play dirty to win his battles. Equipment: Heinrich literally has nothing but what minimal clothing his mistress allows him to wear. Usually, he'd carry around a weapon, but given their recent upbringings, it was deemed he didn't need to carry anything with him but clothing. Weaknesses: Heinrich is illiterate and is prone to berserking during battles. Also, the big man is slow, both mentally and physically.
Celestial Gear Information
Name: Titan of Pain Type: Scythe Appearance: Titan of Pain is a scythe made to maim in the worst ways possible. Seemingly crafted from the bone of a gigantic creature, the weapon is just like its wielder; large, heavy and unwieldy. However, combined with the strength and stature of a man such as Heinrich, it becomes a tool of slaughter. If the blade at the end doesn't tear open flesh or pierce through, its sheer weight can crush bones.
Function: The scythe makes it so Heinrich becomes increasingly stronger and tougher the more pain he receives. Also, the more pain he feels, the more Heinrich becomes mad. At a point where pain starts to become intolerable for him to handle, his strength is such that he is able to rip limbs apart with his bare hands and his skin becomes so tough that mundane weaponry causes only superficial wounds. Alas, his maddened state makes him fly into blind rage, unable to acknowledge orders except from his mistress (even then, her feelings must reach to him empathically). Fortunately, he can still distinguish friends from foes during his raging state.
Miscellaneous Information
Likes: Inflicting pain. receiving pain. fighting, killing, blood, gore, weapons. Dislikes: Peace, slavery, his mistress, animals, silence. Hobbies: Training physically, submitting to the will of his mistress. Character Theme: The Warrior - Disturbed Other: Oddly keeps his hair clean and long. Unclear whether it is of his own choosing or one of his mistress' strange desires.
Full Name: Régis Proulx
Fighting Style: Make no mistake, Régis may have lofty ambitions, but he has little to no knowledge of how to hold a sword.
Focus concept: Régis and Rose-Marie form a powerful duet. They use the power of song to weave their voices into energy, his magic providing her with various boons.
Full Name: Wren (Emily Shaughnessy)
Focus concept: Nature
S P E L L S 
Full Name: Amelie Laurier
…
People.
His job.
Nope.
