[CHAR] The Adamant World

[Jinxer]

Lyrel Swistral

Female, 24 (approximately)

Appearance/Description: Five foot and seven inches tall with a slim, petite figure, Lyrel is not physically intimidating. Her pale skin indicates one who most likely hails from Regis and her raven-black hair confirms this heritage, trailing long and straight to the small of her back. Eyes as dark as her hair with flecks of a deep purple within them, she would be a perfect shadow in the night if it were not for the luminescent whiteness of her skin. Although her preference is for dark clothes she has been forced to adopt the whiter tunics and dresses the people of the mainland wear to ward off the higher temperatures, ones she is most certainly not accustomed to. She styles herself in functional, form-fitting tunic tops and trousers which might go against the sensibilities of some of the more courtly members of society but as she has no intention of ingratiating herself with such people it is no concern of hers.

Flare: Clairvoyance is the most accurate way to describe this but it is not quite the full picture. Lyrel is able to sense an impending event but she does not see it. Her body and mind will instinctively react to the information her Flare feeds her, an example being a sharpshooter taking aim at her blind spot and her Flare commanding her body to dodge safely. It is easy for this ability to become overloaded by sensory input and she can only 'see' herself. She uses Adamant up more quickly when she is having to Flare more often, for example when she is facing numerous opponents. If she is simply walking down the street with no clear opponents then she will use Adamant up very slowly but this can be dangerous as it will leave excess substance in her digestive tracks with poisonous effects.

The other use is more traditional, allowing her to see snapshots of future events. She can only do this when totally still without any distraction, usually in a dark room and alone, and only sees events involving people she has met. The more tenuous their relationship the less clearly she sees. This use is particularly exhausting and she will see maybe five minutes of disconnected images if she expends an entire pouch of Adamant.

(Primary/Secondary Flare strength ratio varies on extent of Primary use from 1:1 (5/5) when extensively using Primary to narrow focus of Primary at 2/8 split)

History: Lyrel hails from Regis, the small island sitting between mainland Boreas and the unknown lands of Miram further east. Their position would make one think that they were in prime position to feed off the Adamant trade from Miram to the mainland but the Highprinces are too caught up in their constant border disputes to capitalise on such an opportunity and ultimately Tikanddyri seized in in their place.

Her family was one of many killed in such clashes although she was young enough at the time that it has become a distant memory; a defining one and not without pain but not an event that influences her personality and future. Shortly after the slaughter she, and many other unfortunate survivors, were carted off to the city and thrown into work on the docks or in warehouses, wherever they could be made use of. Highprince Regis had no sympathy for his subjects slain along the border, especially if he eventually lost the land which they had once tended, and Lyrel quickly learned that loyalty towards one's Highprince was rarely returned although she also saw first hand that disloyalty was swiftly punished and so kept her head down, stepping back into shadows when she did not want to be seen and finding that it was easy to go unnoticed if she wanted.

Her skills were noticed by a small time thief who brought her into a large group where she soon learned she had a knack for slipping in and out of homes and shops without attracting attention. While lacking the finesse of a master pickpocket she wasn't half bad but, unfortunately, that was not good enough to forever escape the keen eyes of the law and soon she found herself imprisoned. Sold as a slave, she was put to work rowing a ship but slipped away in the first port they came to although she was pursued. Sanctuary came in the form of Vale Craft after she stumbled, in her flight, into one of their frequent Powder Mage musters and proved to possess a Flare.

Her freedom was bought by the Master personally and she has a strong loyalty to the guild, more than most who call it home.

Personality: Lyrel is intensely loyal to certain people, those whom she trusts although that is not something easily earned. To others she is amicable, if somewhat cautious and actively dislikes being the centre of attention. She works best when in the background, unnoticed and going about her business until she is ready to step into the limelight.

That said she will lead if required, her time as a slave and her history leaving its fair share of scars and injustices upon her.

She likes to be up high, even if that is perching on the tallest bar stool (or the bar itself) and although she has a good sense of propriety she pays little heed to it, not above climbing a client's bookshelf to find the most comfortable vantage point in their room for 'reasons'.

[Snagglepuss89]

Aaron/Erinn Steiner

Age: 22

Sex: Male (Originally)/ Female (Often)

Appearance/Description: Aaron is a fit young man who, if not possessing the most strength out of everyone in the room, clearly leads a very active lifestyle. It's clear by the way he carries himself and speaks that he was raised in a comfortable life, though perhaps not nobility. When outside of his home he always travels in a thick traveler's cloak, regardless of the weather. The reasons for this are, unfortunately, difficult to pry from him. Other than that, his clothes seem reasonably expensive, but clearly worn, with handmade patches covering the occasional hole.

Erinn dresses similarly, for obvious reasons. For the moment, the two are forced to share a wardrobe. The two have identical levels of physical fitness, and come in at the same height (175cm). There are some differences of course. Aaron possesses wider shoulders, Erinn wider hips. Not to mention their clothing has to accommodate a chest that didn't previously exist. His wardrobe works for her, but is clearly not a great fit. Erinn, as a note, forgoes the cloak in public.

Flare: Shape-Changing, or at least that's what Aaron wishes it were. No, it is not something nearly so universally useful as that, or even moderately useful. Aaron can change his shape- into that of a woman. A specific woman whose appearance he can't further alter (Aside from the usual methods available to all women). It certainly isn't an ability that will complete any assignments on its own, but at the same time it takes only a small amount of Adamant to maintain and leaves plenty of room to operate his secondary Flare (Which he can put to exceptionally good use).

History: While tight lipped about his past to most, some things can be gathered about Aaron from cursory observation. His name and light accent place him as originating from the region around Nawade, though the latter also indicates he has been away from home for some time. Those who are experienced in the martial arts can further observe that his hands are marked by the tell-tale calluses of a swordsman, and that the blade he travels with isn't simply for show. Most, of course, have no way to tell that he can change his shape, and these observable traits carry on between both forms.

When asked about why he joined the guild, the usual reply is simply; "For money." before obviously trying to change the subject. Overall, it'd be more productive to spend ones time trying to squeeze water from a stone than answers from Aaron.

Personality: Aaron, in private, has the quiet self-assured confidence of someone who knows the extent of their own abilities- though not quite passing into arrogance. While tight lipped about himself, he's actually surprisingly talkative, willing to keep a conversation going for as long as the other party is willing to put up with it. He has a genuine curiosity when it comes to other people, and has no reservations about asking questions that he himself refuses to answer.

In public though this evaporates. He exhibits a surprising level of nervousness, and almost falls entirely from confident to timid. While he'll listen to others around him, any desire to make conversation himself vanishes, and he tries to almost literally hide away from the world. It's... a noticeable change to say the least, especially for those familiar with him in private.

Erinn seems to possess the former, confident, personality regardless of whether she's in public or private. That doesn't, however, mean she's any less tight lipped about herself. It seems as if the true meaning behind any of it will remain a mystery for the ages.

[ProxyInc]

Juniper Lee Andrews

Age: 26
Sex: Female

Description: Juniper is a slim woman with no real muscle tone to her build. Standing at a less-than-intimidating height of five foot two, she possesses a more petite and lithe look than athletic. Her smooth pallid complexion is set by a slight tawny undertone leading belief of a mixed heritage deep within her genetics. Juniper's hair is a mottle of grey streaks blended in with black and blonde. Which she keeps mostly kept up in a simple ponytail with only neatly cut bangs left free to frame her face. Her eyes resemble the sky on a clear and sunny day, not that she's seen many of them in her hometown of Rynalem.

Juniper likes to keep herself dressed sharp, or as her mother would accuse her--manly. Often borrowing her father's old jackets and fitting them for her small stature. A theme of tan and light browns swim in her wardrobe, only the pair of deep red earrings she wears brings any real color to her daily attire.

Flare: Mental manipulation or known more simply as 'mind control'. The power sounds far better than it actually is. In order for Juniper's power to take hold she must be able to make eye contact for a duration of ten seconds. And even still she can only place one order at a time. The deeper she places the order in the target's subconscious the longer the command stays. It also burns through her powder relatively quickly and requires almost complete concentration.

Its secondary use is hypnotic suggestion. A lighter form of her full power, it only takes a little of the powder at a time. With this she can simply speak verbal commands and her targets will have a strong desire to obey or react accordingly. Though easily wafted off depending on the person's willpower.

History: Juniper's upbringing was nothing short of average for that of a citizen living in Rynalem. The storms often brought with them a new gaggle of sea sick travelers, looking for a warm bed and stout ale. Her mother and father owned one of the smaller Inn's that flourished there. Known for their hands-on hospitality. With no male heirs to take on the business side, Juniper often tagged along with her father when he set to do his trades. She quickly picked up on the how-to's of haggling and business management. But as happy as the life made her folks there was always a niggling feeling that would press in the back of her skull.

But it wasn't until a particularly nasty storm brewed over the sea scape and bit into the outskirts of Rynalem that Juniper found her freedom. Money, a thing that they never had too much or too little of was now in short supply. Repairs were needed and she watched her parents struggle to barely cover the costs of upkeep. After several days of heated debates, tears, promises, and a step by step plan she bid her home goodbye. Juniper set off to join a guild in order to sate her thrust for adventure and to ease her parents woes.

[Lasrever]

Nila Lionridge

Age: 23
Sex : Female

Appearance: Nila tends to dress simply, though her clothes are invariably well-made and sturdy, despite holding no particular adornments; in her mind, such things would be rising above her station. Training as most of her family members do has lent her a certain amount of muscle, her build fairly stocky and solid; a fact helped by never having to struggle for food, though she's far from fat. She's not the tallest, standing at five feet and five inches, but nonetheless is well-built and bulky enough not to be completely looked over.

She hails from Carneylem, and her appearance shows it well enough; her accent is also stronger than most, helped by the fact that she makes no attempt to hide it, proud of her heritage as she is. She's got a fairly large and ragged scar running from her right shoulder to her chest, and as such most of her clothing tends to cover it. As much as she denies it, it seems to be a major source of insecurity for the woman, though mentioning it if you're ever in a position to notice won't get you anywhere good.

Flare: Using Adamant, Nila can create and direct small volumes of pale-blue gas. These clouds, when breathed in, quickly induce a deep sleep which lasts for roughly five minutes before the subject wakes up, with full recollection of the events before they passed out. The gas doesn't have any harmful after-effects in the long term, though victims might feel a little groggy or disoriented shortly after waking, especially if they've been moved.

Small amounts of the gas can be breathed in without passing out, although it causes moderate grogginess and fatigue, slowing down reactions and generally exhausting the affected. The effects will fade over a similar time period. Furthermore, she can't actually control where the gas goes beyond where it's initially summoned and directed, so friendly fire is always a risk when she's in the field.

The Adamant ratio depends on the volume of gas in the cloud, regardless of its shape; every cubic metre of volume translates to 2/10 of her adamant ratio - for example, two cubic metres would be 4/10 on her primary flare.

History: Nila isn't too shy about her reasons for choosing to join this line of work. To put it simply, her family have - for as long as she can remember - had a history of working as guardsmen wherever they choose to settle. Not the most well-paying or respected profession, perhaps, since they're almost always reduced to grunt work, but what it is is honest hard work. While she perhaps doesn't see eye to eye with them in all things, her lofty ambitions often clashing with their humble wants throughout her upbringing, that doesn't change the fact that she holds them in high regard.

But, of course, it's a risky line of work, and Nila's seen a few too many friends and family hurt by Powder Mages who leaned more towards the less-morally-sound line of things. And so, after much deliberation, she made her way to the guild - not for money, since her family's income is respectable if not imposing, nor for fame, since it couldn't interest her much less. No, Nila's goal is a simple one, either noble, naive, or disgustingly self-righteous depending on how you look at it. To fix these guilds from the inside, and ensure no harm comes to the everyday folk while they work.

Whether she has any chance of success is yet to be seen.

Personality: Above all else, Nila is a woman who respects the law. She sticks stringently to rules, and doesn't believe in granting fair exception based on regret or unfortunate circumstance. One law for all, she claims, for any exception sets a dangerous precedent and leaves a system ripe for abuse by the ill-minded. Her view of the world and those in power tends to be rather one-dimensional, since she's dedicated little thought to any rumors that claim the benevolence of the lawmakers may not be quite so altruistic.

Despite knowing the potential for it in the guilds, Nila is determined to do no real harm, and allow no-one innocent to die; in her mind, it's simply not their place to dole out vigilante justice. As such, she'll always make an effort to leave foes alive and keep her allies from truly bloodying their hands, especially in regards to those she sees as good; an impression which she bases more than she realises on their wealth and profession. In truth, she's been sheltered despite seeing her fair share of violence, never confronted with the harsh realities of poverty or the hardship of not having fresh food each day.

It's perhaps because of this ignorance that her faith in the system is so unerring and absolute.

[wolverbells]

Raven Barrett

Name: Raven Barrett

Age: 27

Sex: Female

Appearance/Description: Being of average stature, Raven stands at five foot five inches and tends to lean a bit more to the curvy side. Although immense training has been instilled in her upbringing, the muscles are not as well defined as one would think. Nonetheless, she tends to dress in all black, making her look a little more slim in certain areas, and leaving only her hair and her bright, blue eyes to stand out against her pale skin. A rather intimidating look adding on to the fact that her face is always etched with anger and worry, unless spoken to. Her hair a striking blonde, that falls to the small of her back; Raven attempts to slick it back the majority of the time so that it will not get in the way.

Being born to the north, as she says, Raven's appearance hails from Mount Jade where there are others that look like her. She left her home in search of something which at the time she did not know what it would be, and her adventures brought her down to Dilei before she wandered off into the world once again.

Flare: When consuming Adamant, the powder melts into Raven's mouth, causing her saliva to become a highly flammable substance, and much like a cobra spitting its venom, Raven can spit her saliva onto her target for up to several feet away. The only way she can cause flames, though, is for her to reach into a pouch that she always keeps close and on her body. Reaching into it, Raven can produce a small pebble like object which, when thrown at the target that has been chosen, it reacts with the flammable saliva and causes a violent reaction much like an explosion. This is, of course, if the target had been drenched. Without having much of the saliva, the target would simply catch on fire.

After consuming the Adamant, Raven must go through and use all of the flammable saliva as quick as possible or the residue could prove to be dangerous to her internal organs. Fortunately enough, when using it, the Adamant has proven to dissolve quickly and not produce an excess of saliva in which Raven could not use and discard.

History: Venturing from Mount Jade down to Dilei, Raven finally decided to wander off into the wilderness to find some peace of mind and to be able to truly understand herself. This is where she came across the Vale, after her resources had depleted, she chose to stay for the income, and did not regret her decision. Having grown up in a working family, Raven was taught a great deal of work ethic, but also how to overcome obstacles. Her family delved deep into meditation and raised Raven to be able to defend herself but also be able to keep herself together in times of stress. It was not until her family slowly started either leaving or dying that she chose to walk away from their desolate home in the mountains, and venture down south.

Personality: Raven can often be described as a loner, seeing as how she always has an icy glare to her eyes and an evermore look of pure anger. Looking past it, though, Raven is truly someone that cares, if not a bit too much. She is the first to help someone in need and the last one to leave them because of her due diligence and upbringing. Family meant everything to her, but father time and mother nature both took everything from her. Many might say that it is a liability, a weakness, but Raven sees it as her strength because it is what has kept her alive until now.

[Torack]

Dorenas Nil

23|male

Appearance:
Dorenas is of average height for a man with broad shoulders and an incredibly wide back, one arm almost noticeably larger than the other, his hair black mixed in with some darker and lighter shades of brown flows down beyond his shoulders when he lets it loose, but often he keeps it in a sort of messy bun to keep the strands out of his stark blue eyes, and surrounding his face is a thick and somewhat short beard that he keeps well groomed and shaped.

And although there are no visible scars on him, he does have a rather nasty claw-mark scar on his abdomen where a bear had nearly killed him in his early years, leaving the muscles there deformed and misshaped, and something that he's deeply insecure about. He also has several burn marks on his back along several other scars that came long with his relatively dangerous life. Despite it all though, he always has something of a small smile on his face, his eyes always glinting with mirth despite all that he's been through.

Flare:
Dorenas can control the number of matter around him. That is to say, he can multiply an object multiple times, making multiple copies, the number of which depend greatly on the size of the original object. Often, he does this to keep his quiver filled with arrows. Then, there's also the fact that he can make an object larger than it originally was, or smaller however this doesn't come as easily to him as multiplying simple things.

The number of items he creates from a single object is what determines how much Adamant he uses, and he found he can make far more items of a simple and small nature without burning too much Adamant, just enough so that he could use his Secondary Flare to have a boost over the average man. Whereas using his Primary Flare on larger objects, the larger it is the more Adamant he has to burn, leaving him little for the Secondary Flare if any. Making items larger and smaller, he found interestingly enough, burns through his Adamant almost completely on small objects and for this reason it's a feature of his power he rarely ever calls up.

History:
His past isn't something that Dorenas likes to talk much about, always skirting away from it or giving vague answers when someone asks him about it. Born to a rich and wealthy family, Dorenas was brought up pampered; everything he wanted was given to him and since his family resided in Barclaybend, everything he ever wanted was within reach. Moreso because his family was one of the largest merchanting families within the island, owning copious amounts of land, caravans, and ships that travelled throughout the islands, but most of their money came not only from trade, but from sponsoring smaller merchant families, thus giving them a large amount of stake on most of the goods being traded if not outright owning some of them.

From a young age, despite being pampered, he was made to realize that he would eventually inherit the wealth and responsibility that his father held and so his studies in commerce, politics, philosophy, and history were extraordinarily extensive. By the age of fourteen, he was schooled and knew much of his father's business to the point where he was running a portion of his father's well oiled machine himself, although there was much aid in the form of his uncle who was at the time training him. Several years passed, and at the age of sixteen he was sent to Hatkadedyet to a particular merchant family that hadn't paid his family in several years. However, before he got to the city the caravan he was travelling with were attacked by members of a guild waiting for them on the road. The caravan guards, although skilled with Adamant, were no match for the assailants and were quickly slaughtered. Fearing for his life, Dorenas ran into the nearby copses and ended up running into a small pack of bear cubs, and before he realized it the mother bear was on top of him, her claws tearing into his abdomen and biting down on his chest.

It was all he remembered of that, his memories jumping to waking up in a small cabin, his body filled with aches and pain, his left arm bound in red, postulating gauze and his hand deformed into a meaty mess. The cabin belonged to a hunter by the name of Eleren, a woman who decided she'd had enough of society and lived out in the woods away from it all. She nursed the young Dorenas back to health, doing her best to heal his left hand, but try as she might his ring and pinkie finger were permanently bent down, unmoving and without feeling. It was then that she'd given him his fist taste of Adamant and he instantly Flared. Over the next several years, she helped him hone and figure out his skills.

At the age of twenty he went back home where he discovered that his family thought him long dead, that his mother had died of grief, and that his father had fallen ill because of her death. After spending some time with his father and visiting his mother's grave he began almost obsessively trying to find out the guild that had attacked him so many years ago, then leaving the responsibility of becoming Head of the Family to his younger brother, Dorenas left his home and travelled to Dilei to become a guild member.

[Rigmarole]

Franca Mintz

Franca Mintz

Picture

Age: 20 | Sex: F

Appearance:
Franca is wiry and small, explosive; the impression one gets is of a bullet. She has the look of someone who's gone through good times and bad, and had to scrape by all the way through. Right now she's on one of her good times, so she has the bloom of someone with money in her pocket and breakfast in her stomach, but the somewhat gaunt lines of her cheeks tell that hasn't always been the case. Though fit and lithe in a street urchin's way, Franca hopes that will change soon, and it will if the pay and eating remains good.

Flare:
Scry - Franca's Flare is scrying of the remotely sensing kind. Generally, this requires Franca to at least see the object or person to be scried, which then gives Franca an accurate sense of where it is, in terms of direction and distance. Fulfilling certain conditions, however, allows Franca to scry despite having a tenuous connection or to scry with greater accuracy. For example, to locate someone that Franca has never seen before, some of that person's hair or personal trinket might allow Franca a general sense of what direction that person is in. To pinpoint a location for someone she has never seen, she would require something that was once very attached to that person, like a personal diary or limb. Furthermore, given a map, Franca can point out a scried location on that map with a greater level of accuracy than she could otherwise, as long as she has been to that location before. The scrying is also easier if Franca has previously met or touched the target before, with greater duration making the scrying proportionately easier. Scrying with the time and safety needed to focus is best, but Franca can manage it while rushed or otherwise engaged by consuming a greater amount of Adamant. The scrying is easier as the distance closes. Finally, Franca's scrying gives no information about what state the scried target is in, nor can her scrying track a moving target without continuously consuming the required Adamant.

The amount of Adamant required for Franca's scrying varies. To scry a person or thing she has never seen and closely pinpoint the location, given something that was once very attached to the target and the time to focus, requires Franca to consume a whole one-hour dose for a scry that might only last a few minutes. To scry a target she has been able to look at for ten minutes to pinpoint a general distance and direction would require about a tenth of that dose. To scry a personal possession or a companion that she has known for some time would require just a few licks, or a little more if she wanted to, say, pinpoint a building the target is in on a map; to continuously scry such a target would take a small lump of Adamant held in the lower lip. Any Adamant consumed over this amount is left over for Franca's secondary Flare.

History: Franca is a Dilei brat, one who has always toughed it out on the city's streets. Her parents were landless laborers, her father a dockworker and her mother a clotheswasher. As a child she assisted both parents, helping them make just enough to lease a roof over their heads. Franca loved them, really. They were straightforward folk and unsympathetic towards a child's nonsense, as parents are. But they provided, protected, and let Franca be as much of a child as they could. She grieved when her parents passed, her father in a dock accident and her mother from consumption some time after, working herself to death to try and make enough to live. In a sense, these were blameless deaths, but she resented that they had happened, and the poverty that came with it.

Franca couldn't linger on their deaths for long, though. She was ten at that time and able to work, and she did. Initially Franca attempted to keep her mother's cleaning work, but that was always meager and unsure, so in time she was everything from beggar to petty thief to house servant, though she was particularly unsuited for that last one. But for the longest stretch of time she was a courier, a valuable if precarious occupation in a town where commerce was more and more the dominant way of life. She delivered packages and mail through the winding streets of Dilei and, therefore, money into the merchants' pockets.

Over time, Franca made relationships with the other urban poor. She had to, to survive. Alone, a bout of sickness or even just not having work for a long enough time could be fatal. With others, things could be easier, if not easy. Certainly, there were some along the way that could only look out for themselves, but Franca learned early on to disassociate from them. Eventually, she became particularly attached to a family of three, orphan kids like herself, and became something like an unofficial big sister to them.

Still, despite these relationships, the work was always lacking. When Highprinces turn to trade for their wealth, money and commerce is king, and the steady movement of people from the country to the towns of commerce meant that the competition for steady jobs was fierce.

It was during a particularly long stretch of joblessness that Franca came across one of the guild musters for new Powder Mages, this one held by the Vale Craft Guild. She had heard the stories about Adamant use, how it burned you from the inside if you didn't have the spark, how you could die, and even if you didn't end up dead you'd be knotted up enough that you might as well be if you didn't have someone looking after you, and Franca didn't. That had so far kept her away. But at that point Franca was willing to have poison if she could have bread after, so she took the diluted Adamant. Though nothing seemed to happen, she curiously she didn't heave bile onto the ground. The Vale Craft Guild was good enough to take that as proof that she had some Flare and kept her around until she discovered she had a knack for finding something or someone that was lost. Having since had the time to test out the limits of her ability, the Vale Craft Guild's higher ups have finally given her clearance to accept some jobs.

Personality: Franca lives her life by her gut instinct. While she has had to toughen up considerably since her parents' passing, Franca is determined to survive on her own terms. Though she's been in her fair share of street scraps, she's been crafty enough to get out of more, preferring a live-and-let-live mentality. She had an informal quid pro quo with some of the other urchins and she wouldn't have made it through the bad stretches without it. She has a particularly soft spot for those younger than her, and she's been known to go without so a kid wouldn't have to.

Still, Franca's experiences have given her a set of bad quirks. She's quick to judge others as friends or enemies, and she stubbornly holds onto first impressions. Further, while she has a friendly manner, this tends to come off as irreverence, and it often really is. Lastly, she remains bitter over her parents' passing and the circumstances that brought about.

[Opposition]

Gwendolyn Abramelin

"Gwen"
21 | Female

Appearance:
By no means imposing, Gwendolyn is a rather slight individual. Her wispy form bears a less than frightening stature. She stands at a meager height of 5’4”. Fortunately enough, not all of the young powder mage’s features are so inadequate. While it may be less evident, Gwendolyn finds her body lean enough to endure quite a bit of taxing travel due to her lifestyle. With a rather pallid complexion, Gwendolyn’s fair skin complements her ash blonde hair rather well as its layered locks fall just far enough to brush the top of her shoulders. First impressions are quite impactful as Gwendoyln’s doe-like eyes stand out quite a bit with their electric blue color.

Gwendolyn is certainly no inconspicuous figure in a crowd. Much like the rest of Gwendolyn’s past company, she has a tendency to dress in a rather gaudy fashion. Amid the golden necklaces, gemstones, and jewels, Gwendolyn is more personally known for the silken white cloak embroidered with a number of gold linings that enshrouds her form more often than any other outfit. Due to her bouts on the sea, her wardrobe tends to work well to defend her from the sun’s harmful rays. Gwendolyn is known to carry a large number of pouches and sacks on her person to hold various substances to work with her Flare.

Flare:
Known as Drift Magic, Gwendolyn commands control over “Drift” resources, those being particulate substances blown by the wind in forms of sand, ash, and dust. She summons up the will to exert her command on the Drift resources via a variety of complex gestures. This particular ability given to her by her Flare gives Gwendolyn a wide array of uses depending on how she wills the Drift. Common uses that are often found in Gwendolyn’s arsenal are using her Drift to obscure sight by forming screens, using her Flare in mass amounts to create blasts to strike foes, or even compact Drift substances into unique shapes, though this requires a rather large supply of Drift.

Because of the weak and light nature of the Drift substances, control over them requires very little stamina and focus on Gwendolyn’s part. This can change, however, if Gwendolyn moves mass amounts of Drift. Greater volumes and densities of Drift require more of Gwendolyn’s energy on a linear scale. More often than not, Gwendolyn finds herself using her ability in diminutive amounts, allowing herself control throughout the day while subsisting on small amounts of Adamant rather than expending all of her energy at once. Gwendolyn finds herself constrained by other factors as well. For example, she cannot create the Drift substances. Thusly, she requires a supply of dust, ash, or sand for her magic to have any potency at all.

History:
Gwendolyn knows very little of her actual birth and family. From her earliest clear memories, she can recall her childhood aboard what she assumed to be a merchant ship christened Jackals’ Ensign. Without the care of parents, Gwendolyn was protected and cared for by the sailors that took her in. In their travels, Gwendolyn learned quite a bit about life on the sea. She did as much as she could to help out the sailors that had done so much for her in return. Of course, she didn’t have the capacity to do very much of the work due to her meek stature and childlike demeanor. Her life sailing around Boreas didn’t last forever though.

Unbeknownst to Gwendolyn, the men that had cared for her for so long were not the merchants she imagined them to be. Instead, the men aboard Jackals’ Ensign were a band of marauders of the sea known only as the Jackals. Despite their undue hospitality, the Jackals were little more than pirates under the guise of merchants. The inevitable fates of pirates loomed over them, though, and the Jackals were long overdue to meet their match. It wasn’t until one particular day during a massive storm that a guild-sponsored war frigate finally found the target of their bounty: the Jackal’s Ensign. That day in the sea, the Jackals’ Ensign was scuttled and found its final resting place in the sea north of Guise.

While most of the Jackals found themselves dragged to a watery grave that day, a small number of the Jackals’ Ensign’s crew found themselves afloat in the raucous and rough waters of the storm. Gwendolyn was among these castaways. Lost for what seemed like days, it wasn’t long before the young girl succumbed to the will of the wild waves. Assuming that death was taking her, Gwendolyn allowed her eyes to slowly give in to the darkness. Her awakening thereafter was the greatest surprise of the whole ordeal. She found herself on a beach in the company of a strange vagabond. Gwendolyn didn’t find herself fully conscious until after the mysterious stranger had brought her into a city left in ruins.

After a long-winded conversation about their current circumstances, it was explained that Gwendolyn was washed up on the shores of Bidlip. Her strange saviour was a wayward vagrant calling himself Menes. Menes roamed the abandoned cityscape as a scavenger, using his abilities as a Powder Mage to sustain himself as best as he could. The scavenger found himself his supply of adamant due to a great deal of finesse when it came to passing merchant ships in the nearby seas. Upon finding Gwendolyn, he took her in as an apprentice, teaching her his scavenging art as well as helping her unlock her own abilities as a Powder Mage. It was in this broken city that Gwendolyn spent the majority of her teenage years. Alongside Menes, she honed her abilities and thrived in the unforgiving environment. Even this bout of good fortune wouldn’t carry the young girl forever though. During a venture into the depths of Bidlip’s urban landscape, Menes and Gwendolyn found themselves assaulted by a bizarre denomination of mages. They were something like a guild of outlaws likened to cultists. The pair found themselves escaping unscathed, but that was not the end to their encounters with the rogue mages. All aggressions came to a head when Menes and Gwendolyn were forced to flee to the beaches. Menes revealed to his apprentice that he had a raft constructed and ready to set sail. This was unfortunately his last message to Gwendolyn before he was taken. She escaped while she still could and this time, her time on the sea was brief before she was picked up by a passing ship.

Once the ship was docked into a port in Dilei, Gwendolyn found herself on her own. Due to her unconventional lifestyle, she had very little in terms of marketable skills. Entirely apprehensive to the idea of joining a guild because of her past experiences with similar groups, Gwendolyn subsisted off of ‘scavenging’. She was entirely unaware of the repercussions of her actions as she was not at all used to conventional society. This landed her in heaps of trouble on a daily basis. It wasn’t long before a lieutenant of Vale Craft Guild came to her with a goal of recruitment. It was with great disdain that she was even considered to be brought into the fold of Vale Craft Guild due to the unsafe nature of her upbringing and how it trained her to deal with Flare. Despite her cautiousness surrounding the whole idea, Gwendolyn reluctantly accepted the offer with nowhere else to turn. She was anxious of the environment at first, but has slowly adapted to the civilized world and its ideas.

Personality:
It is rather easy upon first interacting with Gwendolyn to notice that she has a certain abnormal air about her. While she appears to be very light-hearted and joyful in her demeanor, there remains a certain disconnect between her and the rest of the world. This can manifest in a variety of strange ways. Her odd attitude is seen especially in the way she interacts with others. Gwendolyn is generally a rather outspoken person, seeing no reason to be candid with her motivations. Therefore most of the people familiar with her know about her skewed view of modern society. It can be quite endearing at times as Gwendolyn tends to react with a certain naivety to many things.

Despite her active participation in the Vale Craft Guild, Gwendolyn has an untrusting disposition towards guilds in general. She isn’t fully accepting of the work they do, and often only participates in contracts that she is personally interested in. Often, that interest is vested in her fondness of material goods that can be obtained during any contracts. Put simply, Gwendolyn is a hoarder of many treasures. Stemming from her life as a scavenger, she finds herself desiring to constantly collect prized objects that she finds. Her actual treasures can vary, but commonly she seeks to gather gold, precious gems, and other valuables that she may find. Many would think her rich, but in reality Gwendolyn doesn’t buy much with her treasures and cares very little for actual coin.