[CHAR] Dungeon Clearer! The Wonderful World of an Adventurer

Characters:

• Corinne Julienne Delphine de Tiffauges
• Liliane de Tiffauges née Magnier
• Tristram Ullr
• Cassia van Zyl
• Finn Reinheart
• Nefrena Iseueret
• Sieglinde H. Driessen
• Shir Anders
• Sophie Velmet
• Léon Reverdin
• Mellifleur Lily Alexandria
• Nehir Rasim
• Rex of Calthir
• Maribel Eclipse
• Ifrari Shievran
• Signy Ironblood
• "Jane Doe"

[Raineh Daze]

• Name: Corinne Julienne Delphine de Tiffauges
• Age: 17
• Gender: Female
• Race: Hundi
• Rank: 2 of Wands
• Appearance: Corrine's appearance is, perhaps, the first clue that she is not the most capable or experienced of adventurers. Fine, richly-dyed cloth, embroidery, jewels, and a physique that speaks of a lot more "reading books near a fire" than seriously working out. She's even on the short side for a Hundi, coming to all of 4'9.
• Personality: It's said that Hundi are incapable of lying, but nowhere is it said that they have to say almost whatever is on their mind regardless of the tact of the situation. Unfortunately, that describes Corinne perfectly well, with a tendency towards putting her foot in her mouth at the slightest chance. On the plus side, given how easily she speaks her mind, spending almost any amount of time near her is a good way to be certain that the upbeat Hundi has almost no ill will towards anyone in her. It also makes it clear that despite her grasp of magic and good grasp of such things as finance and how one might run an estate... either Corinne's painfully naive, or just kind of dumb.
  Corinne can be almost painfully shy around new people despite the bluntness, often choosing to stand carefully behind Liliane (formerly her parents) until she's comfortable. This also describes her reaction to mindless undead quite well, despite--even with her inexperience--having perhaps the best skill set for stopping them.
• Brief Backstory: Tiffauges is a reasonably large town about two days' travel on foot from the Black Pit--far enough away that anything that comes out of it is unlikely to head its way, but close enough that if something were to be seen it would require an immediate defence just in case. Specialising in fine pottery and (like much of Ithillin) wine, it's prosperous enough to do quite a large amount of trading. All in all, it means that the noble family overseeing the area is more well-off than some of their strictly farming-focused peers. Corinne, as her name indicates, was born into the family and remains their only child.
  Throughout her childhood she proved completely inept at every single form of combat she was shown, even with training. Given the high value Hundi place on their combat skills, she was desperate to find something to do well at--and in desperation showed a remarkably rare talent amounts them, having much more mana than normal; enough to actively focus on magic as a primary form of combat. A tutor was quickly arranged, and by her sixteenth birthday Corinne had learned a reasonably impressive selection of magic... though her speed and efficiency left a lot to be desired.
  On her coming-of-age journey, the mage was desperate to prove that she had learned something worth fighting with but her natural clumsiness and difficulty even starting a conversation with total strangers lead them to help her practise but avoid a proper duel. Corinne was growing despondent at ever finding someone who would give her a chance and started to head out from the more Hundi-dominated region of Ithillin towards the human settlements when she had a fortuitous meeting: a girl of similar age to herself, headed in the other direction. Unlike the others she had met, this girl didn't immediately dismiss her request, turning around and accompanying Corinne for a few days more before accepting the duel. It didn't even last ten seconds.
  Word was sent back to her parents to prepare for the inevitable wedding, and Liliane made sure to keep an eye on her for the remainder of the journey, explaining that she was a novice adventurer who had been paying a visit home when they met. It was her fiancée's description of the northern guild that gave Corinne an idea where she could practice and perfect her magic, show that she was good for something and would be able to keep Tiffauges safe.
  They didn't spend time in Ithillin for long after the wedding, making the trek north and registering the young noble with the guild. With no experience and a rather impractical skillset, her rank remains dreadfully low--albeit with Liliane accompanying her the entire time and letting her strengths show, Corinne is allowed to take more advanced jobs.
• Equipment: The sole piece of adventuring equipment in Corinne's position is her staff--a particularly well-made magical catalyst, made from materials traded with the far east; the stave is made of maple and the gemstones are jadeite. As a result of its specific construction, it is highly resilient to damage--though trying to test it against a magical weapon would probably wear through it in short order--and remarkably good at improving mana efficiency and allowing her to shorten many incantations to a workable length. The downside is that the construction method essentially locked each gem into assisting with a single form of magic--her preferred fire and lightning. If she were to try anything else, the staff is mostly an aiming tool.
• Skills: Corinne is neither a skilled adventurer nor a mage who spent their entire childhood studying in a mage college; she's essentially getting by on a scant secondary education in the art of spellcasting. That's not to say that she's bad; her mana capacity is high by the standards of magically-inclined races and with sufficient practice would more than make up for her late start. Unfortunately, she focused on three things primarily: firepower, aim, and breadth of options. Corinne has a surprisingly vast list of known fire and lightning spells, but she simply can't cast them quickly or keep going for long, especially without her staff. Her most powerful spell is an explosion that will use all her available mana without fail.
  This imbalance is part of the consideration for allowing her on more dangerous missions when supported; the damage she can do over a long job is more appropriate for a rank 5 or 6 adventurer and almost too dangerous with her lack of practice for low-rank missions.
  Oddly, she actually does have some finesse with magic... when using it entirely to prepare and cook food. This may have been spurred on by Corinne's coming-of-age journey because she otherwise can't cook at all.

• Name: Liliane de Tiffauges née Magnier
• Age: 19
• Gender: Female
• Race: Hundi
• Rank: 7 of Swords
• Appearance: Liliane's boyish looks end at her height, being no taller than Corinne is. Even though she now has access to newer, less oft-repaired and higher quality clothing, Liliane prefers to stick to the same adventuring gear she's always worn, considering the faded wool to be more suited to her than anything that she might otherwise get--not to mention practical and less liable to go to waste when damaged on adventure. Befitting her emphasis on speed over strength, her athletic figure definitely goes for lean rather than muscular.
• Personality: Proud, honourable, and... really quite a grump. Liliane has quite the habit of taking delays or mistakes poorly, always wanting to finish whatever job is at hand as quickly and efficiently as possible and getting increasingly more exasperated with mistakes or confusion as it goes on, and generally not suffering fools well as a result. This even spills over into relaxing; she tends to like contests of skill and gambling (and finds it amusing how many people think telling the truth means you can't bluff) and becomes quite the sore loser if she has a particularly bad run of luck.
  Liliane is exceptionally protective of friends and family despite her harsh attitude and can even be outright affectionate if there aren't too many people around--she seems to mostly act to not show any weakness to large crowds.
• Brief Backstory: Liliane isn't one to talk about her father or childhood much--a run of bad decisions earlier in life, a set of hard-to-sell skills, and she spent most of her time engaged in banditry and crime, though not the sort of stealthy burglary that might be something to write home about. She learned a lot, and even more once she was able to wheedle her mother's location from her father and leave. It was her mother that made Liliane polish her fighting and learn how to fight something other than human, or armoured in a way that a brigand would never have taught her about except to run. Then she was sent up to the Adventurer's Guild to put it to use and do some good to make up for her childhood.
  Really, the coming-of-age journey after that was absolutely nothing to note. It was really more of the same for a girl who had grown up travelling around a lot and even more recently adventuring. She finished up and returned to the guild, taking some pride in the way her rank continued to climb. It was then that Liliane hoped that she'd done enough to visit home without being reprimanded again.
  The adventurer was nearly there when she came across something simultaneously expected and unexpected: a younger Hundi on her own journey, desperate to prove her combat ability... but so blatantly unsuited for it that almost anyone could guarantee a win. Uncertain if this was all a very good act--could someone really be so clueless?--Liliane shadowed Corinne for the better part of a week before realising that, unfortunately, it was. If the mage kept looking for a fight, it was only a matter of time before she met someone more unscrupulous and willing to take advantage of her, or someone clueless about their customs and still likely to take advantage of a noble's resources. And she was cute.
  After that, Liliane spent her time doing much the same sort of thing as Corinne--marrying into the more important family, agreeing to help her idiot wife with becoming an adventurer. It's rather aggravating to put honing her own skills fully on hold, but since the alternative would be letting Corinne go into danger unsupervised... well, holding back and doing more of a protective role isn't the worst thing she could be doing.
• Equipment: Liliane's daggers are alchemically treated to repel both blood and dirt, both failing to adhere to their surfaces and sliding off. The coating, however, bonds well with oils. Why is this important? Because the satchel on her hips (itself a wedding present) is magically expanded and full of vials of oil-based poisons. This includes both more lethal or debilitating poisons--why kill an enemy by massive wounds if a few small cuts will start turning your blood to gel or the like?--and a rather large amount of numbing agents. One small cut leading to a disabled arm is a good way to make taking someone alive easier. It even has a few acids for things that would otherwise be immune to her weapons.
• Skills: Obviously, daggers are Liliane's weapon of choice, able to swap which hand is being used to attack or defend at a moment's notice--if she was ever not ambidextrous, it's long enough ago that she doesn't remember. Her fighting style is consequently based on dodging, deflecting, and feinting attacks so often that a cautious opponent won't know when to launch an attack and a reckless one will be cut to pieces. Against other people, a generous amount of dirty fighting can be added. Having to protect another person limits her range of motion a lot, but it's normally necessary.
  Outside of combat, Liliane has a very good working knowledge of what plants are safe to eat somehow and which are actually poisonous, as well as camping expertise. Her cooking leaves a lot to be desired; the best you can say is that it's probably not totally burned. Furthermore, as a result of a long childhood spent camping in the wilderness and her own soft side, Liliane is skilled at charming canines--from guard dogs to wild wolves--to her side... if nobody else fights them.

[HereComesTheSnow]

Name: Tristram Ullr

Age: 22

Gender: Male

Race: Human

Rank: 5 of Coins

Appearance:

Death from Afar

Most often clad in earthy hues of brown and green, Tristram aims for the subtle and nondescript— if he can pick off targets at a great distance, there's every possibility someone else can as well— best to not stand out against whatever he's perched upon. His build is robust, with a fair amount of muscle thanks to constant climbing, hiking, and drawing a longbow to full being in his job description. His face is a total mystery, thanks to a penchant for hoods that somehow always find enough shadow to obscure it, but his body language is assured and his voice youthfully brash.

Personality: Tristram Ullr, in spite of the seemingly impenetrable shadows of his ever-present hood, is a man who you can only imagine to wear a smirk. His personal brand of unfiltered and cocksure flippancy is borne of the particular certainty in one's own skill— something five years of surviving within a band of sellswords will do to you. Of course he can make the shot, why even ask? Indeed, while his most dominant confidence is in his eternally growing ability as an archer, it's his background that proves the wellspring from which the rest of his colors sprout. He's ruthlessly opportunistic in and out of battle, calm in the maelstrom of conflict, and always willing to fire back at those who go after him, be it with words or attacks a touch more tangible.

Thank the goddesses he still remembers how to be a professional.

Brief Backstory: Born to a small family within Ithillin, Tristram spent his youth holding a bowstring. His father was a hunter, his father's father was a hunter, and by Goddesses above, he would be a hunter as well— which, at first, agreed with him. He enjoyed the act of archery, the complete focus it required, and the powerful thrum every time he sent an arrow forth. Nothing made the young Ullr boy's day like seeing he'd hit his mark, save hearing the note of pride in his father's voice as he called it. It became clear to both that the boy had a knack for this, and so it was quietly fostered over the years, within the greenery they called home.

After over twelve years, this started to get less entertaining.

By now a young man, Tristram continued to hunt more as a way to keep himself sharp rather than anything else, selling bagged deer, voles, and pheasants in the town nearby. When news that Thaln to the south had broken out into civil war came, so too did the recruitment drive. A mercenary corps rolled through that village and all but swiped such a capable young man up the moment they found him peddling woodland creatures. It proved every bit the change of scenery he had long proclaimed to need, but at the cost of (literally) his face. Shoved into a totally nondescript leather mask and fighting battle after battle in far-off lands, be it the War of the Red Flag or shooting out eyeballs in Velt, this became his new normal for five years, until a well-coordinated attack upon a slaver's fortress in a Veltic ruin caught the eye of the Church of Reon. For their valorous deed (ignore all the pointless fights for a sec), they received an offer to be folded into the militant arm, perhaps even knighted.

Tristram was no wide-eyed dreamer, and had had quite enough regimentation for one lifetime. He instead swung north, far north, only stopping to reunite with his family in Ithillin for a week before continuing on up to Estival, and joining the Adventurer's Guild. Here, he could truly pursue his craft with neither bush nor blood to cloud his vision of the path towards true mastery. He'll go home every so often to check on the folks, make sure they're getting on fine, but otherwise he's not lookin' back.

Equipment: A Longbow of respectable quality, a quiver each of standard arrows and those enchanted with flames, fifty or so feet of rope. Has a small sword and dagger at his side in the case of Really Bad Emergencies and needing to cut something for utility, respectively.

Skills: Whatever his eyes look like, they must be of the greatest acuity. His vision and comfort with the longbow walk hand in hand to produce a natural sniper, specializing in precise arrow placement across distances that most would balk at. Fortunately, he's also quite good at sussing out where his most reliable vantage point would be, and has no complaints about getting to it however he needs to. He was formerly at the very least workmanlike when handling melee weaponry, but has spent no time using them after the mercenary corps disbanded. He would do well to simply survive a close engagement against a trained opponent. Very willing to fight dirty, he's always on the lookout for an advantage he can push to tip a fight onto his and his fellows' side.

Formerly a hunter and fisher like his father before him, Tristram is a good judge of quality game and fish, skilled at procuring and preparing both. He can navigate a forest and bushwhack as well as any in the business, and keeps an almost obsessive, meticulous track of his personal funds.

[Caasicam]

---

---

Name

Cassia van Zyl

Age

23

Gender

Female

Race

Half-elf

Rank

5 of Swords

Appearance

A vibrant young woman of athletic build, if not particularly large stature. She stands just under a meter-seventy, with a relaxed posture and bright countenance.

Cassia

Personality

Fiery, with an energetic disposition that ranges from a general intensity of character to near self-destructive hotheadedness. An innately competitive spirit mixed with a stubborn, steadfast resolve. One who takes pride in her work and appreciates the work of others. While loyal to those she considers friends, she tends to have difficulty accepting assistance, an area where she is trying to curtail her overindependance.

Brief Backstory

The single child of a small working class family, growing up in a small town to the southeast of the capital of Estival. Small is no misnomer, being just her father and herself for the majority of her upbringing. While not a lavish life in any sense of the word, it was rich in a way that gold couldn't buy. Her father, a mercenary in long since past life, now spending his time as the village smith, instilled in his daughter an appreciation for honest work and the value of that which was earned by blood and sweat. That which they did not have they made themselves. That which was not needed was given to those in need. While it was not a comfortable life, it was a happy one. During her childhood she assisted her father around the forge when needed, or spent her time with the rest of the children in the village.

In her teens she showed an aptitude for magic, and unwilling to squander an opportunity such as this, her interest in the art was encouraged by her father. While no formal school existed for her to learn to utilize her inner ability, she found instruction from an old retired mage who lived in their village. The mage spent as much of as his time spinning tales of adventure and the wonders of the capital city as much as he attempted to teach the headstrong teenager.

However it became apparent that quiet town life was not for her. Cassia longed for something greater, something more.

This yearning for adventure lead her to Venne, and the aptly Adventurer's Guild itself.

Equipment

Cassia's prized possessions she keeps by her side at all times. The first of which being a sturdy roundshield. Reinforced with bands of iron and inlaid with a stylized rose pattern, it makes for an excellent defensive and offensive weapon. The heavy build allowing it to serve just as well as a blunt striking instrument.

In concert with this she wields an equally tough shortsword. The weapon was a holdover from her father's old profession, and given her smaller frame, handles more akin to a hand and a half than the fallback weapon that it had been in a previous time. With a wide, tapering blade it is heavy enough to empart great force onto cuts while still retaining the nimbleness needed to thrust single-handed.

She does own a few assorted pieces of plate armor, though generally prefers to not wear a full set, as much for the cost as the reduction in mobility.

Naturally, she will carry whatever else may be needed on a job from the Guild as needed.

Skills

A competent craftswoman, having picked more up than a few talents in coaxing metal into a desired shape under the tutelage of her father. A skill which has come in handy more than once for repairing and maintaining her own equipment should the need arise.

Which comes up more often than not, given her propensity for combat. A capable fighter, what Cassia lacks in elegance and finesse she more than makes up for in raw pressure and athleticism. Cassia leverages a kinetic, smothering style of combat to impose a presence in battle that far outstrips her apparent size.

This is, of course, with the aid of what magic she can bring to bear. While possessing an fairly substantial inner gift of mana, her training with properly utilizing it has been subpar at best; she is certainly no mage and won't go tossing around the elements of nature at will. As such, the majority of the outward expression of her ability is simple at best: fortifying her weapons and body, warding allies from harm, or lashing out with crude slashes of energy.

Absolutely terrible with money, coin having the unfortunate property of burning holes through pockets while in her possession.

[Heartfillia]

Theme

Finn Edward Reinheart

20

Male

Human/elf

6 of Sword

He stands at a simple 5'4 despite having a tall human father and equally tall woodland elf mother didn't seem to to pass on to him. He has an olive skin tone with emerald green eyes, broad shoulders, muscular arms and athletic body.

Finn is a highly determined young man who is hard working and highly excitable. Seeing each new thing in his way as a challenge he must overcome. Be it finding someone faster than him, or someone who can eat more than him. admittedly he can be an idiot at times, while trying to look cool for the ladies.

He believes greatly in defending those who are in need, even if he has to stand alone. He doesn't care for money but for the experience in life and becoming stronger himself.

Born as the oldest of 4 to a pair of adventurers who were partners when they traveled. He was born prematurely and was not expected to live. By a miracle though he did survive and grew up in an elven forest city in Estival. Finn was always on the smaller side, despite his taller parents and younger siblings. Often being picked on by the other children of the city for being so small and not being able to shoot a bow at all. Often getting in fights because of this.

His father, started to teach him how to fight to defend himself. He was an expert in hand to hand fighting during his adventuring years. Finn worked as hard as he could, turning every chore he was given into some sort of training. even asking his parents to give him more things to do. When he grew stronger with all the physical work, he was finally strong enough to actually shoot a bow. Often breaking the smaller bows that children his age practice with.

Finn enjoyed fighting with his hands. Yet he also fell in love with shooting a bow. With his parents giving him a new bow which was much thicker, and specially built with a steel core. He started to use it as a makeshift quarterstaff. Blending his two favorite things together and creating an interesting fighting style. with his martial arts and quick reflexes, he could fight close to an opponent and even fire off shots in rapid pace.

when he turned 16 he decided to travel and join the adventurer guild like his parents. It was time to go see the world and become even stronger. Even more importantly to save all those beautiful ladies out there!



-His custom made steel core bow, encased with a harder but bendable wood to protect it from being chipped away by blades.
-Quiver of arrows on his hip
-Leather bracers


-Strong and athletic body from years of training hard. He is very active and trained with his martial arts to be agile. Living in a forest greatly helped him with climbing around and do so quickly building up his muscles and Stamina even more.. Along with physical chores that he asked to do, he is pretty handy with helping around a village. He seems to have a limitless source of stamina.

-Bow martial arts- because his bow has a steel core and hardwood, its strong enough to deflect weapons and not get bent out of shape(Or chopped in half) He uses it in combat as one handed quarter staff. (little bit more elegant than a club). Because of the steel core, as well as his highly developed muscles. The arrow can fire at a faster rate and penetrate the target more than a normal archer. He can be accurate with a longer shot with a bit more time but anything that is within 70 meters, he is highly accurate even on the move. downside to this style? He doesn't understand the meaning of sneaking in a battle. He 100 percent a fighter.

Even With out his bow he is an excellent martial artist.

[Rune_Alchemist]

Neffy

Name:
Nefrena Iseueret
Age:
18
Gender:
Female
Race:
Nem
Rank:
5 of Coins
Appearance:
Standing at a typical height of 3'5 for a Nem, Neffy isn't too different from others of her kind. Typically dressed in a black robe cloak during the day, and long stockings that cover her entire body, along with a hood to obscure her facial features and to protect from sunburn. She has short cut black hair, and can typically be seen carrying around a book in her arms. Often tries to pull her hood over her face and hide from people.
Personality:
An extremely curious soul, though this diminutive Nem's own massive amount of self doubt and her timid nature gets in the way of her life more often than not. When it comes down to it, she'd much rather flee than engage in anything dangerous at all, preferring to read and stay nice and safe, cooped up in a little room filled with piles and piles of books. Fighting ever hardly crosses her mind, and when confronted with such things, she often thinks of fleeing first.

Despite her fear of fighting, one would do well to always remember Neffy was trained in magical ability, and has skill in subterfuge, so while she is timid and prefers avoidance by nature, the Nem possesses an acute eye for detail and will complete whatever job she's on without question.

Often dozes off during the day and spends free time reading or just roaming the city looking for 'interesting' things.
Brief Backstory:
Born and raised in a Nem settlement with a particularly large temple dedicated to their patron goddess. Neffy herself, was taken in at an early age off the streets to be a priestess of Ila-Nem and spent most of her life until her departure living with the other priestess in the sprawling underground complex that served as their temple.

It was here she first learned to hone her magical skills, and where she fell in love with reading all sorts of books. She often found herself shirking work and other priestess like duties in favor of reading, and often sneaking away from such training in favor of spending time in the town proper, much to her elders chagrin. Her ability to memorize religious practices and the fact she was otherwise, a model student typically got her off the hook though.

Still, she never quite felt satisfied with her life there. The only two people who made it bearable, was a mischievous Nem who liked to drag her into all sorts of trouble against her better judgement, and an older Nem who she sometimes visited to hear their stories if she had sneaked out.

There was something Neffy, lacked. Conviction in religion and a desire to actually follow through with becoming a priestess. Have you seen what they wear! So embarrassing she'd die!. It was this lack of conviction and general dissatisfaction with staying put in the temple and a natural curiosity that eventually led to her leaving the temple for good after an incident.

Her friend had decided that it'd be a good idea to steal something from what seemed to be a mage they had saw in town. An exquisite, beautifully crafted sword. It didn't look like it'd be good for fighting with, but it certainly looked like they could sell it for a lot. Neffy tried telling her friend this was a bad idea, but they wouldn't have it, and Neffy for once, told them they weren't helping. Surprisingly enough, things went off without a hitch.

- until the owner of the sword showed up demanding that the thief be dealt with. Perhaps she was using this as an excuse to leave, but she decided that instead of letting her friend take the fall for it she took it from its hiding place. Taking the sword for herself, and leaving temple behind Neffy left. After a bit of traveling, a change of clothing to hide in. Wow tall people are scary. to protect from the sun, she eventually landed in Estival, where she soon joined the adventurers guild.

Equipment:
Her main equipment is her body-hiding cloak, obviously. Protects from the mean Yrrah as well as from scary people. She can just hide in it and forget they exist! Its obviously her most important and invaluable object.

Her real most invaluable object however, is likely her sword. An excellent bit of Nem craftsmanship, the exquisite looking curved sword seems to be less of a battle implement, and more of a decoration upon first glance. The sword is in fact, a magical catalyst strongly attuned to the element of Wind and Water. While it can work as a blade to fight things, its primary function is to shorten magical chant times and increase mana efficiency.

Skills:
Neffy is not an adventurer by training or trade, rather her skills were trained in stealth and magic, and it shows in a number of her mannerisms and skills. That is to say, when it comes to direct confrontation the Nem is not well suited for direct combat. She could reasonably hold her ground against a similarly skilled opponent, but when it comes down to it, Neffy's skill set is far more suited towards stealth, scouting, and silently taking out enemies and not giving them a chance to even react with guerilla tactics, eviscerating them quickly before they can react, or supporting an ally at a distance.

Further, she compliments her skill set with tricks of magic designed to aid in her sneaking, and is her main method of taking out and dealing with threats. Neffy's primarily focused around wind and water based magic, of the less flashy sort, typically used in helping her with her sneaking abilities and retreating in combat should she find herself in a direct confrontation. Usually, she prefers magic of the less flashy sort - more practical spells designed to efficiently take out targets. A favorite spell of hers is a simple spell that creates a thick, obscuring mist that she uses to help hide herself before attacking, or using a blast of wind to flee from opponents in order to reengage with guerilla attacks or disengage and look for an opponent to deliver a fatal blow while an ally engages. Support spells she uses on herself, could theoretically be applied to allies if she finds herself in the fray with them, though they aren't going to be as strong as a dedicated supporters buff.

[Krayzikk]

Sieglinde H. Driessen

Age: 24
Gender: Female
Race: Human
Rank: 6 of Swords
Appearance: Sieglinde is a pretty average girl when it comes to her height, but her chosen weapon makes her seem much smaller. At five feet seven (and a half!) inches she’s a little taller than another girl she might name in point of fact. Despite trying her best to keep her hair tidy a few tufts usually poke up here or there, combining with her earnest and friendly expression to create a somewhat vacuous demeanor. Her clothes (blue is fine for a Reonite, it’s her favorite color!) are always neat and orderly, though, and all of her gear shows her due diligence.

Her build is deceptively strong, undoubtedly from carting around her sword all of the time. She wears an archaic Reonite symbol wrought in silver around her neck.
Personality: Earnest, friendly, optimistic… And a little clumsy. And a little laidback. That’s not to say she’s lazy but she’s from a place so cold that the warmth tends to make her a little drowsy. There’s nothing wrong with enjoying a nice fire, that’s her story and she’s sticking to it. And so what if she tends to get caught off guard by things on her left and trip? Or bump into them? Everyone can have a blind spot. Despite it Sieglinde “Sigi” Driessen is as sharp as they come, and she has a soft spot a mile wide. Anyone younger than her tends to inherit their own big sister figure after a fashion, even if they don’t realize that’s what they’ve done. Moral support, friendly conversation, and an all around supportive mentor whether they asked for it or not. And if she banters a little, that’s just her duty as a role model.

None of which changes that there’s a core of steel to the friendly figure, or that she’s not half as scattered as she acts. Sieglinde was born and raised in one of the harshest environments known to man, and her devotion to the goddess Reon is second to none. She attends service as often as she can and honors the goddess in the manner traditional to her home and strives to be a gentle soul. Even when she fights Sieglinde holds back wherever she can, both for the sheer joy of the challenge and to never inflict more harm than necessary. Not even to her friends does she admit to the extent of her ability.

But her kindness is not weakness, and her happiness is not naivete.
Brief Backstory: Sieglinde Driessen was born far to the north and saw little but snow for the first fifteen years of her life. Worship of the Goddess Reon is dominant there, for the locals believe that Mayon holds sway upon their land. She commands their respect and their devotion, but unfettered they would be unable to survive. Fire, from Reon’s blessing, sustains them. Warms their homes, wards off the cold and the dark with its light. Summer is a festival that does not end, not until the days grow short again. But the wastes are full of terrors. Monsters and worse, men, who retreated from civilization’s heart to the cold. The precious few who live in those far northern reaches have to be protected. Sigi’s father, his father before him, reaching back to the edges of memory have shouldered that burden with pride. Worshippers of Reon who have used her blessing to guard the innocent. It was this tradition that Sigi was raised into.

But the girl wanted to see the world, too. That land of ice would always be her home but she wanted to see what lay beyond it. Make her name, earn experience, see what the world had to offer beyond the village’s borders. So when she was an adult she headed south. She roamed on her own for a time, met people and fought monsters, but never quite finding the place to linger for long. Until she encountered the Adventurer’s Guild.

She thought the idea was just wonderful.
Equipment: Sieglinde carries around a simple bag, hanging by a strap on her right hip out of the way of her blade, containing basic supplies for someone on the road. A map of the land, a tightly wrapped sleeping bag, first aid supplies, whetstone, and preserved rations. Things of that nature. She does not bother with flint to start a fire. A dagger hangs on her left hip for utility or a holdout weapon. She wears something approaching half plate when she goes on a job with particularly notable gauntlets, robust enough to block blows and make for a mean hit if she uses her hands.

Most notably, of course, is the immense blade that rests on her back. The zweihander is about four and a half feet long with a well-worn lilly carved into the center of the crossguard and a beautiful sapphire set into the pommel. The sword resides within a metal sheath more worn than the blade itself, conforming to the weapon with a series of nicks and dents on its edges. A simple but unusual locking mechanism holds the sheath on unless released, and a strange leather wrapped handle is looped out of the sheath above the crossguard on one side.

The blade itself is well maintained, but clearly old. It lacks the parrying hooks above the ricasso common on later blades, and a series of archaic runes are inscribed on its spine. These runes enchanted the blade upon its forging for durability and greater cutting power. Anything that chooses to block it directly rather than deflect or evade stands a fair chance of being cleaved apart within a few hits.
Skills: A seasoned survivalist, necessary in the far north, and traveler. Sigi can make camp just about anywhere if she has to, and make food out of just about anything. And of course, her magic makes a campfire a breeze. She’s extremely well read as well, especially on matters of her religion and local myth. It doesn’t perfectly match up with the practices of Reonite worship further south, but she’s versed in those, too.

Sieglinde is also a skilled swordswoman, able hand to hand combatant, and okay medic in an emergency. Beyond her swordplay, however, her most notable skills are the magics passed down her family. She’s a deft hand with fire magic and its applications, of course, but cherished by her family is the Berserkergang. A dangerous magic, one she has not used since leaving her home, it deadens her sense of pain. In such a state Sigi will not be stopped by any pain nor wound, not unless it physically impedes her ability to function. The wound is still present and as soon as the battle ends she will feel it in its entirety but until the magic ceases she will persevere through all but the most grievous of injuries.

[TheFake]

Shir Anders

Name: Shir Anders
Age: 18
Gender: Female
Race: Human (The branches growing from her head are mostly a fashion statement constructed of shadow)
Rank: 4 of wands
Appearance:

Personality:
Shir was always a loner, even as a child she was more content to create games to play by herself out of shadows and her imagination. She likes comedy but is spare with her own words and dislikes those who speak thoughtlessly. Too used to being judged by her appearance, she has little patience for those that do so.

She has conflicted views about how she wished others to perceive her. One one hand she wants to be recognized for her actions and deeds instead of by her appearance. In other cases she prefers to simply go unnoticed. That isn't to say that she's shy. Shir is easily provoked when a remark is made towards her and will speak freely when she has strong thoughts about something.

Brief Backstory:
Born with the bleached hair and pale skin of an albino, Shir was always ostracized by other children. Born to a sailor father and an often absent mother, she quickly learned to be self sufficient. Growing up, she was often mistaken for a desert dwelling Nem and her small stature did little to change this as she grew older. At one time this made her resentful of the diminutive species but now she feels a bit of a kinship towards them.

As her magical potential developed, people seemed to avoid her more and more and she became increasingly self reliant. Eventually at the age of sixteen she slipped away from home in the dead of night to find a place to belong. She doesn't know if her parents missed her and doesn't have any intention of returning.

As a result of her albinism, her eyes are extremely sensitive to bright light and her skin tends to burn easily.

Equipment:
None

Skills:
Shadowmancy: Shir summons and controls beings and objects from shadows, with larger and darker shadows giving form to larger and more powerful creations. These creations are unthinking and are animated solely by her will. They can be banished or diminished by strong enough light, but even the darkness cast on her skin by her clothing is enough to maintain a small minion or a weapon.

Shadows directly connected to her are much more powerful and as such, she tries to keep her constructs close at hand. Shir has a limited amount of sensation though her shadows and can feel what they touch.

[VitaVitaAR]

• Name: Sophie Velmet
• Age: 18
• Gender: Female
• Race: Human
• Rank: Five of Swords
• Appearance: Sophie has pale skin, purple eyes, and pale purple hair. She is exceptionally short.
• Personality: Sophie is a highly competitive girl who is determined to be one of the best adventurers in the guild. Her aggressive personality makes this fact quite evident, and she is extremely driven to take any jobs she possibly can. She has a habit of viewing other adventurers(outside of anyone in her party, at least) as direct competition for her pursuit of the title of title of Top Sword in the Guild. She is quite prideful, bordering on arrogant, but she isn't without a more playful side as well. Sophie is fond of games(but is also extremely competitive in them, determined to win no matter what) and does seem to view exploration and adventure as something fun. But at the same time, she takes fighting very seriously, her competitive and aggressive nature pushing her forward in incredibly dangerous situations. While Sophie is quite prideful, she still values hard work and dedication, believing it is the exact path towards the goal she desires. She can be somewhat dismissive and sarcastic towards others, especially if they are being stupid, but in spite of her aggressive and goal-driven attitude she does care about helping innocent people and protecting her allies. Sophie hates being treated as younger then she actually is, which is troublesome when she's so short and youthful. She also has a jealous streak, especially when it comes to anyone who is more mature looking then she is.
• Brief Backstory: Sophie was born into the Velmet family, a minor noble family living in Venne. When she was little, she became fascinated with the stories of adventurers, and already aspired to be like them even before a major event changed her life. When she was only eight years old, she was suddenly taken by raiding band of goblins while visiting a relative's estate far outside of the city. But before they could take her back to their hole, the goblins were slain by a team of adventurers. This sealed it, not only did Sophie wish to become an adventurer, she wanted to become one of the best. Now that she's older, she's embarrassed about the childish approach she once had... but she's become incredibly competitive, using her wealth to purchase high-quality gear and gain training that would allow her to function as a fighter fit to join the guild. Sophie has no intention of giving up on her dream of becoming one of the top Swords in the guild.
• Equipment: Sophie wields an expensive, well-balanced double-headed greataxe. Forged of dwarven alloy, it is quite light in spite of its size, but very sharp. However, it is almost entirely mundane beyond these features. Sophie wears set of relatively light armor, mostly focused on protecting her torso and hands while allowing for swift movement. Finally, she carries with her a set of one-use enchant items. By breaking them, she can apply a very brief, relatively weak enhancement charm to herself. They resemble cylindrical rods, easily broken with her bare hands. The enhancements they apply include Windsprinter, which greatly enhances Sophie's speed, Greater Impact, which allows Sophie to strike much harder then she otherwise would be able to, and Enhance Armor, which lets her enhance her armor for a single blow. These charms are no-where near as strong as a spell applied by a mage, but they can be used on the fly, very quickly. Of course, she has to buy replacements whenever she uses one. Sophie also has a dagger, a relatively mundane, if well-crafted, last resort in case she is unable to use her axe.
• Skills: Sophie is a remarkably skilled fighter, mostly when it comes to utilizing her axe. Her fighting style utilizes her own small size and the swings of the axe to move herself across the battlefield, allowing her to attack with the full weight of her body. She has some rudimentary first aid skills, not sufficient for a healer of any sort, however, and has a decent knowledge of Estival's flora and fauna. She cannot be called an expert, and magical knowledge largely escapes her, but she is decent enough.

[Crimson Paladin]

Mayonite Cleric

Name: Léon Reverdin

Age: 20

Gender: Male

Race: Human

Rank: 4 of Cups

Appearance: His normal appearance standing at 5'9", is more akin to that of a young Mayonite seminarian or scholar, rather than a hammer-toting cleric. When fully garbed in the attire of a shrine keeper, he seems like a different person.

Personality:
Having spent much of his life studying with the Mayonite church, Léon is personally familiar with hardship but not tragedy. He comes off as trusting and idealistic, but is not oblivious to the evils of the world, especially those that it is the duty of the Twin Churches to oppose. He isn't particularly adventurous or bold and perhaps is even a little apprehensive about stepping into caverns and dungeons, but it is Mayon's will, thus it is Léon's duty to carry it out even if it's not what he signed up for.

Brief Backstory:

Keepers of the Shrine of the Pierced Skull

The keepers of the Shrine of the Pierced Skull are a small group of of Mayonite clerics in Estival who maintain and guard a remote reliquary honoring Saint Elionne, a saint renowned for her deeds of heroism. When the shrine was first built, acquiring a relic to inspire pilgrims proved difficult because all of Elionne's possessions were in the hands of the Iron Roses, the knightly order that she had founded and led. The clerics were unable to convince the Iron Roses to hand anything over, but they managed to obtain what they felt to be a passable substitute- the skull of Volkstraad, the dragon that Saint Elionne had slain, still bearing the piercing from the fatal blow struck by the Starlight Sword. The skull was taken to Estival and placed in the shrine so that pilgrims could look upon the saint's handiwork.

While initially viewed as little more than a consolation prize, the skull became a revered symbol for the shrine and its clerics, and in time they took on a dragon motif in honor of it. Due to the shrine's remote location and the ever-present threat of thieves, bandits, or anyone with a grudge against Elionne, Mayon, or the Iron Roses, the keepers of the shrine adopted a martial tradition, training rigorously with maces and hammers to ensure the safety of pilgrims, the sanctity of the reliquary, and the security of its relic.

Léon was born to a poor but devout family in Estival. When he was a child, his parents took him on a pilgrimage to the Shrine of the Pierced Skull. He was awed not only by the relic itself, but also by the helmeted, hammer-wielding warrior-clerics who stood vigil over the shrine and its contents, and the image stuck in his head for years. His parents were quite pleased with the though of their son joining the clergy, and worked hard to give him the opportunity to do so. Many of his younger years were spent serving as an acolyte for the church, and when he was old enough, he formally became a cleric novice. During his studies, he specifically requested to be assigned to the shrine that had left such an impression on him, despite it being effectively a backwater assignment with little opportunity for upward mobility in the church. After several more years of scrubbing the shrine floors, rigorous martial training, and theological and magical study, he was ordained and granted the arms and vestments of a shrine keeper.

After a brief period of service, Léon was called to perform an unusual duty- the local Mayonite clergy had asked the shrine to spare someone to assist the Estival Adventurer's Guild and as the most junior keeper, he was picked. His duties were to spread the light of Mayon, lend his skills as a cleric to the adventurers, and in the process search the dark corners of the world for evidence of Elionne or any relics connected to her. It sounded like a bit more excitement than he had expected for his station, but he couldn't let Mayon down, so he set out to join the guild.

Equipment:
When adventuring or on duty, Léon wears the protective vestments and helmet of the shrine keepers, and wields a war hammer, their iconic weapon. He also carries a scepter topped with a perched dragon, serving as his spell catalyst, and can double as a light mace in a pinch.

Skills:
As a cleric of Mayon, Léon is trained in the use of magic to aid others. He can close wounds, ward allies from various forms of harm, and strengthen them spiritually, mentally, or physically. His skill in this is only enough, however, to be ranked a 4 of Cups. A better fighter than a healer, Léon's forte is his martial skill as a shrine keeper. He is a capable fighter with his warhammer, able to swing the heavy weapon far more adeptly and deftly than his appearance outside of his keeper attire would suggest. He also has a formal education in history and theology pertaining to the Church of Mayon.

[The Red Seelie]

Death is just the next big adventure!

---

Name: Mellifleur Lily Alexandria
Age: 19
Gender: Female
Race: Human
Rank: 6 of cups
Appearance: Her appearance in regards to her clothing is incredibly asymmetrical. Stockings of varying lengths, Gold bands on one side, absent on the earth. Gems of various size or cut. Different Material texture. If she wears a belt it is always at an angle. She wears shorts under all her long cut dresses.
Personality:
At first note Mellifleur gives off the aura of a very normal girl. That is to say she does not act in anyway one would regard as strange. She wakes up, she does her daily duties dutifully, she eats with the rest of the guild and she sleeps soundly at the same time each day. She even parties with anyone that needs her aid on the clause she can bring her silent armoured companion.

However if one were to pay more attention, They'd notice a bit of peculiarity about herself. She goes out of her way to visit any cemetery she might come across. Usually with a full bouquet of flowers. For this links to another important tenet of herself. She holds the dead in the highest regard and as such she responds with blatant anger towards those that treat the dead as nothing more then means to an end.

As a result of this tenet she takes a particular interest towards the sentient undead finding each one to be likely be a repertoire of the most fascinating of tales. For they have likely lived longer then anyone else!

However it must be stressed that just because she holds the dead in the highest regard she isn't just going to let anyone die in her presence. In fact she will paradoxically work against death as much as possible to keep someone alive. As her inaction would rob someone of their proper time to die and thus disgrace their death. A strange ideology to be sure but one that she adheres to.

In regards to her own companion and her friends in general, she will work extra hard for them. Even though she is from a noble house. She will not complain about how manual a labour may seem. In fact it is not uncommon for one to see her tirelessly cleaning and polishing the armour of her companion. She also Highly dislikes those that discriminate against a person for company they keep.

Backstory:
Born the daughter of a Merchant and a Magician of the sect of Rennah. She could of lived a completely uneventful life, save for the fact that at age six. she was already the centre of a vortex of weird. Said vortex being the fact that the imaginary friends she had frequently talked to turned out to not be as imaginary as she first thought, given the fact that when she was communing with a bunch of them. Her mother walked in.

Well. That was the fastest way for her Mother to take her directly to the minor sect of Rennah, and well the rest is more or less history. She took well to her studies. Learning that she had a particular flare for magic of the dead sort. That is to say. She only really showed particular flare for necromancy. In fact her casting of other spells left much to be desired.

At some point a year prior, perhaps as a result of a particular encounter that caused her to pick up her companion. She would set her eyes on a much more risky lifestyle. The lifestyle of a Adventurer. Indeed this is what lead to her turning up one day and never having left since.

Equipment:
A stuffed animal toy with shoddy stitching keeping it together as a result of its frequent wear and tear.
Skills:
Necromancy, Yes the act of raising the dead. Something she has shown a great prodigal flair for, in fact her skills with the art are alarming. Interacting with and manipulating facets of the dead comes as naturally to her as walking. However she has been lectured since her youth on the rights and wrongs of the art. She is not the type to raise the dead willy-nilly, or use her potent ability to spread blight and rot. In fact she is a very reserved type of necromancer that through the art of spirit communion will ask the dead for consent first or resort to dead animals instead as she holds the dead in incredibly high regards. Case in point in her companion, A skeleton of which she pours much of her power into, elevating it well above the status of a mere lackey.

She is also well versed in using Necromancy as a healing aid, Able to keep a body/organ functioning well past its natural point of death, able to offset organ failure by up to a full day, and total system failure by an hour.

Necromancy is not a common art, and finding trained non-heretical practitioners in it is highly difficult. However as a member of the sect of the goddess Rennah, the stance on necromancy is lax only in the circumstance that the bodies given are done so willingly.
Companions:

Raphael

The resurrected corpse of a Knight who gave his explicit consent for her to be able to do so. He wears the best armour she could afford, while also wielding a sword that is heavy then what he wielded in life (to compensate for his increased strength as a skeleton) so the bodies muscle memory isn't thrown off. She can't risk her mindless protector shattering his blade after all. Raphael is not sentient and acts fully on the commands (Both audible and inaudible) of Mellifleur. As he cannot cast spells he functions as a incredibly durable swordsman. With Mellifleur using him as a powerful fighter on her behalf.

He is commonly dressed in full plate armour helmet included in order to conceal his true nature from the average onlooker. Though one may figure it out all too quickly should one lay a hand in anger upon the necromancer that holds his strings.

[Vec]

---

DROPPED RP

ROAN

ＢＡＳＩＣ ＩＮＦＯ

---

ᴿᴼᴬᴺ | ²⁹ | ᴴᵁᴹᴬᴺ | ᴹᴬᴸᴱ

ＡＰＰＥＡＲＡＮＣＥ

---

ＰＥＲＳＯＮＡＬＩＴＹ

---

What can be said about Roan? His personality is pretty stock standard when one thinks about his up-bringing. He has been characterized as a gentle bastard by some of his more... unpleasant acquaintances, but don't be discouraged! He can be very accommodating if he's in a good mood. This usually happens after clearing a quest or making it big in one of the capital's many gambling dens he so loves to patronize - mostly they love him instead but that's a story for another time...

Aside from that, though, Roan is a decent communicator and as far as humor is concerned... let's just say that he tends to keep his wit about him around new people. To his friends and close ones, however, he's very open and straightforward, not beating around the bush when it comes to serious matters and pretty good company when it's time to be merry.

ＢＲＩＥＦ ＢＡＣＫＳＴＯＲＹ

---

Roan was born in a pretty peaceful village close to the eastern border of Estival. His family consisted of his mother, Lea, his father Grezen, and his two siblings Trey and Calum, 4 and 5 years younger than Roan respectively. His father worked as the sole blacksmith of their village, supporting his family of four decently well. Despite the fact that with the money his father earned, he could be the sole earner of the family and they still would not have problems living a respectable life, Roan's mother insisted that everyone should contribute however they could. Due to this, Roan and his siblings learned the value of work at a very young age.

By the age of 12 he had become an apprentice in his father's smithy, helping around and learning from him the art of the blacksmith. Of course, his father's skills would never measure up to the standards of dwarven metallurgy, but Roan nevertheless loved doing what he did and, or course, his father loved teaching him. This peaceful life lasted for about 4 more years before the incident happened.

The incident is what Roan has dubbed the sudden disappearance of his mother and his two siblings. One fateful day, the then 16 year old Roan returned from the smithy to celebrate the end of his apprenticeship, only to find his home ransacked and empty. The front door had been broken down, the inside of the medium-sized house vandalized and his family members where nowhere to be found.

The incident changed Grezen, and Roan saw a side of his father that he had never seen before. From the proud, stalwart man that treated everyone around him with kindness and hearty laughter, Grezen turned into a deadbeat alcoholic that squandered all their money to feed his newfound gambling addiction. Roan pained to see his father in such a state, however, and tried his everything to keep a semblance of the life they previously had. Since his father had quit working the forge, Roan took up the mantle of village blacksmith. For a few years, he supported his father and himself with his work, and even managed to repair all the damage that their house had been subjected to. Alas, fate had more in store for Roan, however, as one day his father decided to leave as well. Suddenly, one day while he and his father were eating dinner in silence, as they always did after the disappearance, his father pushed his chair back, stood up and walked out the door, never to be seen again.

For several days after, Roan functioned almost mechanically, waking up in the morning and going to work before returning home. He made dinner for himself, ate it in silence and went to sleep. Rinse and repeat. Finally, one day he too realized that he had nothing tying him to the village anymore. His family was gone and the blacksmith position could be easily replaced by someone from the capital.

He boarded up the house and the smithy, bundled up a set of clothing, collected the last bits of gold he had and one of the swords he had made and took off as well. He wandered around, traveled to multiple towns, cities and villages within the borders of Estival, and eventually he found himself passing through the gates of the country's capital. He made his way to the Adventurer Guild's building and joined up. The rest is history...

ＥＱＵＩＰＭＥＮＴ ＆ ＳＫＩＬＬＳ

---

In battle, Roan is used to being lightly-armored, just enough to have the basic protection needed in order to adventure. Below his hooded cloak and clothing he wears a stiff chain-mail vest that has protects his vital points. His sword, made of good quality steel, is one he had made himself years ago and had yet to fail him. Of course, he takes good care of it and thus it's still razor sharp despite its age. Aside from his weapons and armor, he also has a backpack with assorted adventuring items.

Roan is a Rank 5 Sword adventurer. He has been a part of the Guild for over 8 years and has built up some decent reputation as a quality swordsman. Although having received the basic training the Guild provides to all new adventurers, he's realistically all but learned his swordsmanship through the battles he's faced as an adventurer, slowly growing into the man he is today. He is agile and quick on his feet, able to jump from enemy to enemy with relative ease, while his years of training as a smith has built up a body full of strength, giving him the ability to explode with power whenever he needs to overcome a difficult opponent. His style of swordsmanship is one of relative unpredictability as he's always on the look to exploit a moment of weakness in his enemy's defense in order to finish the battle as fast as possible.

Aside from his fighting abilities, he's an actual quality blacksmith by trade, despite not really practicing the profession all that much in the last few years. His eyes still retain the keenness of one who knows his way around metal, and thus he can identify if a weapon or armor is of good quality from just looking at them for a few moments.

He is also a very bad gambler, but I don't know if this counts a skill or not... he certainly impresses those that run those gambling dens he frequents, he's basically a walking money bag for them, the gift that keeps on giving!

---

---

---

[ghastlyInc]

Nehir Rasim

"Don't worry! It's friendly fire!"

• Name: Nehir Rasim
• Age: 19
• Gender: Male
• Race: Nem
• Rank: 5 of Wands
• Appearance:
  At a standing height of 3'3, Nehir is actually on the shorter side of most Nem. He is often somewhat underkempt, clothes somewhat threadbare and cheaply made. He hates most shoes and would prefer to be bare foot when possible. However, the life of an adventurer often requires proper footwear, sadly all he can afford are sandals.
• Personality: Nehir is an ambitious and inquisitive mind, often sporadically hopping from topic to topic excitedly. He loves to speak and is always eager to waggle the ear of any soul kind enough to listen (or unfortunately trapped in the same space as him, depending on how you feel), especially those who, like himself, specialize in area of effect spells. Outside of work he is quiet the social butterfly, always happen to lend a hand or spare some coin to fix whatever broken odds or ends around the guild. He is also known for having a...unique presence in battle. Laughing with a mad giddiness as he rains down a veritable blizzard on the battle field. Given this record, it is common knowledge in the guild to never /ever/ allow Nehir to drink alcohol.
• Brief Backstory: Nehir was born in Estival and has lived within its boarders for all of his life. Initially his family (mother, two elder brothers and sister) made their home in a medium sized logging town two days west of Venne, his mother plying her trade as a merchant for a sizable paper mill in the area, traveling into and out of the capital on an almost monthly basis.
  
  Nehir never really had any interest in following his mother's footsteps, finding the idea of sales meetings to be deathly boring. In what few times he ventured to the capital with her for work, it was often a struggle to stay awake during most of her meetings. But there was a bright spot. The Mage's College of Venne was a long standing client of the mill and, to Nehir at least, the single most beautiful place in the world. He wanted nothing more than to drop everything and start the first time he laid eyes on its halls.
  
  His mother refused, neither wanting her child to enter what she saw as such a dangerous field of study and adamant that he should follow in the family business.
  
  Magic infatuated Nehir, far more than the idea of selling paper ever could. Over a few years he managed to cobble together the basics of the art through a combination of sneakily buying books whenever he went to Venne (a task easier said than done...) and his own experimentation by a creek near his home. By age 16 he had the basics down, if heavily unrefined. He knew it wasn't by any means prodigious progress. But he had hoped it was enough to worm his way into the college, running away from home in the dead of night, intent on only returning when he was an accomplished mage.
  
  It...it didn't work out. For a number of reasons. While they appreciated his enthusiasm for the craft they found his methods...lacking for a better term. To the point that what few teachers who would even look his way suggested (albiet kindly) suggested he perhaps give up entirely. What teachers didn't say that knew who his mother was and knew of her objections to his attendance and refused flatly on those grounds instead.
  
  Embarrassed at his failure and too stubborn to return home, Nehir spent the next few months idling in the capital, practically burning through what little money he'd managed to save in that time. One day, wallowing in his new poverty and long standing embarrassment, he accidentally wandered near the grounds of the Guild hall, the air suddenly rocked by an explosion.
  
  At first he thought it was an attack of some sort, but the thunderous laughter that followed quickly broke that illusion. Peeking through the iron bars he saw of the wisp of ozone and wavering air indicative a strong fire spell and the mage who casted it.
  
  That explosion probably saved his life. He practically begged the guild to give him a job, starting as a lowly scribe. For the next three years he spent much of his daylight hours doing the accounting work he spent the bulk of his childhood avoiding and at night he spent his time on the training field. Honing whatever limited talent he had, not into the refined elegant tapestry of the arcane that was taught in the college. Instead he trade elegance for raw, devastating power.
  
  When he finally asked for field duty, he was warmly welcomed to it.
• Equipment: As a mage, Nehir keeps his equipment load fairly light. He carries some modest camping equipment (Nem sized unfortunately for you taller sorts.) as a small assortment of pots and pans for cooking on the road.
  His most prized possession is his wand. A scepter of heavy brass intricately etched with runes and topped with a dendrite quartz sphere. The scepter was built to reduce incantation times for his spells enough to make them usable in combat while still being able to handle the strain of it's users rather....bombastic spell choices. Sadly, there was little room for any augments for accuracy.
• Skills:

Nehir has been in the guild to know enough of the basics to be passable at basic survival skills like making camp and cooking. But outside of combat a fair bit of his work is administrative; setting budgets for outings, haggling with merchants for gear or supplies, things of that nature.

In combat Nehir is a dedicated mage of Ice and Wind magic. With wind magic he summons cutting gales of wind, tearing bloodied swaths through enemy lines. Or, if allies are in the way, howling torrents to simply barrel through, tossing whatever is in its path to the side.

With ice magic he tries (and often fails) to be a little more precise, using it to summon walls for cover for backline fighters like himself to hide behind. Or simply sending a vast bulwark of frost to lock down an area (and anyone in it).

While he lacks much in the way of variety, its hard to say that it can't be terrifyingly effective when it does work.

[Derg2]

Shitpost

Basics

Name:
Rex of Calthir

Age:
16

Gender:
Male

Race:
Hundi

Rank:
4 of Swords

Appearance:

i.pinimg.com/originals/7d/b5/3b/7db53…

The first thing anyone would notice about Rex is his extraordinary physique. From his neck to his calves, Rex is nothing but unbridled muscle and testosterone. Aside from his trained body, one may also refer to his intimidating height (6’5”) and long appendages to conclude that this is one beast not worth perturbing.

Rex's eyes are somewhere between pale blue and gray and practically ooze excitement. As well, his medium length black hair sits stylishly atop his head disturbed solely by his two wolfish ears. His tail is large enough to create light gusts of wind whenever it wags.

For attire outside of battle, Rex prefers to “maximize ventilation” so-to-speak. In certain terms, Rex will wear as little clothing he can without being kicked out of the guild hall. It is not uncommon for him to forgo shirts entirely.

Personality

A kindhearted, boisterous, and vigorous character, Rex is the antithesis to his predatory appearance. He is patient, naive, and smiles wide. Rex seems to genuinely care about the people around him.

On one hand, Rex has an unfathomable quantity of energy, so much so, that even if he weren’t Hundi one may conflate him with the bombastic personality of a dog. On the other hand, his intelligence leaves something to be desired. He was never the smartest among his peers and has often relied on either luck or strength to solve his more complicated issues. As well, he is far too trusting for his own good and couldn’t lie to save his own life. Rex was neglected throughout his life, and is hypersensitive and incredibly responsive to any positive interaction. It would not be difficult for an ill-meaning party to take advantage of him.

Rex’s greatest dream is to become a legendary hero. He has a set of ideals that he believes heroes must abide by, and will often describe his behavior by claiming they were becoming of those ideals. In fact, almost all of his actions are based on what he thinks this hypothetical hero of his would do. Truthfully, Rex just wants to be friends with everyone around him and see everyone smile. His greatest fear is to be powerless when it truly counts, and strives to never find himself in that situation.

As a side note, should one be tall enough to reach, Rex is a sucker for headpats.

Brief Backstory

Especially for a race as proud as the Hundi, Rex’s upbringing was destitute from the beginning. Situated somewhere in northern Ithillin east of Calthir was a camp of cold bandits, and Rex was born the bastard son of their chief. Though cold, the bandits were not heartless, and Rex was cared for as long as it took for them to anonymously deposit him at an orphanage in Calthir. Rex’s first memories are past this point; he doesn’t even remember the face of his mother.

There, at the orphanage, Rex was nurtured past his infancy. The caretakers gave him his current name Rex. These years passed by without incident. Rather, his formative years seemed to be too bland. The dull nature of the surroundings bled into Rex and all the orphans until they themselves became dull. There may have been some form of camaraderie among the young orphans, but in their formative years, friendship was nowhere to be found. Not until they found a cause to rally behind.

The thing about genetics is that one’s progeny tends to share their progenitors traits. Rex was no exception. As he dawdled past his toddler years into his early adolescence, he began to resemble the heinous crime-lord that was his father. His mug was infamous for it’s long-standing on Calthir’s list of wanted criminals. While the resemblance was mistakable, the other kids in the orphanage did not look past this. Rex was soon met with nothing but contempt by his peers. In some semblance of morbid irony, Rex’s very ostracization was the foundation of his fellow orphan’s friendships.

It did not take long for Rex to grow restless. But rather than returning contempt with contempt, he instead was driven to succeed. His peers did not support him, so Rex soon learned to support himself. While most of the growing children made up for the orphanages meager sustenance with thieveries they shared amongst themselves, Rex found himself in servitude of a tailor who paid him with bread to sew. The tailor was all but uninterested in Rex except for his young and nimble fingers, and once Rex became eleven he was forced to seek another form of work.

This new work soon revealed itself as the loading and unloading of cargo at trade depots, a labor reserved for the degenerates who needed whatever coin that could possibly come their way. The pay was meager, the work was hard, and Rex was mistreated. But like farmers who spend endless hours working a field, Rex grew fortuitous with his endeavors. Funnily enough, the lower echelons of society were among the most accepting people Rex had met in his life. If Rex had any friends from Calthir, it was among those who toiled alongside him.

Rather than playing with other kids in his free time, Rex would linger by the guild hall where he would watch the heroes returning from their adventures. In particular among them was a human who would have may have been ranked as high as ten had he adventures in Estival. The hero was known for his great strength, but also for his ability to make the people around him smile. Rex was fascinated by this, he had never made anyone around him smile.

As Rex grew older, he also grew startlingly large and began to stand out. His resemblance to his father only grew stronger, and people began to fear him. Even if one knew not of the notorious bandit chief that once terrorized Ithillin, Rex’s form was monstrous. Hundi did not usually come in his size, and the hard labor at the trade depots only served to exacerbate Rex’s intimidating presence. Once he was fifteen, he lost his job and was replaced.

The Smiling Hero, who was just an all aroung great guy, looked past the arbitrary plot point that was Rex's scaryness and the two became acquainted during a fateful encounter at the guild hall. Being around such a dude, Rex realized that he wanted to be a hero himself one day and asked the hero to teach him how to fight. The Smiling Hero agreed and taught him some basics, allowing Rex to learn how to swing a sword. For some time this went on, until the Smiling Hero set off on a quest and never returned.

Rex grew to resent his loneliness. His sixteenth birthday was coming up, and though Rex was not part of a Hundi family and conscripted to their traditions, he decided he wished to go on his coming-of-age quest. For the second time in his life, he considered what he dreamed for. His mind drifted to the hero who could make the people around him smile, and Rex knew what he wanted. First, he had to escape his cursed mantle and find somewhere that he could achieve such a thing. Behind him Ithillin shrunk as he traveled to Estival, leaving behind his father’s infamy and starting anew.

Equipment

Rex is in posession of a steel greatsword. He also has plain garments. Lastly, Rex is currently broke.

Skills

• Tremendous Strength
  
  • Rex's greatest asset is his great strength.
• Sword skills
  
  • Rex is fluent with a sword from his practice in the Calthir guild hall. His fighting style revolves around overwhelming his foe with brute strength.

[Lunarlord34]

Age: 19

Gender: Female

Race: Human

Rank: 6 of Sword

Appearance:
Maribel is a somewhat taller woman, standing at 6 feet, weighing about 170lbs, with a slim but strong build. She has silky red hair that she keeps loose and has light, brown eyes that elude a kind of innocent naivete. She looks to keep her appearance immaculate, sometimes spending hours just polishing her armor. Her casual attire consists of light, flowing dresses or tunics.

Personality:
Maribel is a devout follower of the goddess Mayon, swearing an oath to protect the weak from those that wish to bring them harm and bring said dark beings to justice. As such she is a kind and gentle individual, innocent in her world views that besides those that obviously display evil behavior, that all around her also follow her frame of mind in wishing to protect and serve. She is also quite naive, often believing the words of strangers as truth.

She has a strong sense of justice and a large protective streak, unhesitant in her efforts to keep others safe even at the cost of her own well-being, such as putting herself between others to stop anything that may be trying to bring them harm. She has a more defensive, support based mindset when in battle, looking to buff or protect her allies, doing minimal fighting unless she is desperately required.

Brief Backstory:
Maribel basically never knew her parents, though she knows they were adventurers who perished on a quest while she was barely a toddler, so she was taken in by the church. At first, she was raised to be a servant to the church, a sister or a nun of sorts that would devote herself to the churches of Reon and Mayon. However, when she started to exhibit a strong will to protect others, often protecting other children from larger bullies even if she came back battered, bruised and bloodied, it was decided she needed to be taught to protect herself, and eventually, when she was old enough she was inducted into the Paladin training regime to best utilize her talents.

While the Paladin training was difficult, her desire to serve Mayon as best she could would keep the girl going no matter how much her body would ache after the strict and intense training sessions, no matter how many times she was hit by wooden weapons, the burning in her arms and legs as she built up strength. It was all worth it when she reached the stage of training that she is at now; practical experience. It allowed the Paladins who had gotten this far into their training to experience the real world, their first taste at what they would be getting themselves into. It would also teach her how to work with adventurers and others in general outside of her order, a valuable experience for a situation that was sure to occur in the future. So with a letter of recommendation, she signed up to the guild of Estival.

Equipment:
A sword, mace, armour and shield given to her by the church.

Clothing and provisions as one might expect a young adventurer to carry, though of note for clothing is some ceremonial outfits or more fancy ball type outfits.

Skills:
Weapon training: As a Paladin in training, she has been training with swords and maces to best utilize her shield.

Divine Magic: While her mana fuels her magic, her magic was a blessing giving to her by the priests of Mayon, a wonderful holy magic to allow her to protect and serve in the goddess's name. Using this, she manipulates water, is given some healing abilities and other related abilities.

She also has an education in a few fields, mostly the history of the church/country and the like, but also basics like maths and reading/writing.

[SilverPaw]

Ifrari Shievran

Name: Ifrari Shievran

Age: 25

Gender: Male

Race: Dark elf

Rank: 5 of Coins

Appearance: Ifrari stands at an average 5'9, is fairly lithe, and is deathly pale. He has startlingly blue eyes and long, braided black hair with an undercut. On missions, he will tie it into a tight bun to prevent it from getting grabbed or otherwise obstructing his movements. Outside of adventuring, he prefers dressing flamboyantly, a dark blue jacket with a light blue furred hoodie one of his favourite items. On missions, he will adopt a practical, comfortable, if drab attire.

Personality: Somewhat of a hedonist and a free spirit, Ifrari desires to live an enjoyable life on his own terms. He is a curious sort, especially about different races, cultures, and lands. He's the type who can easily break the ice with a general kindness and affability. Ifrari likes to have fun, and can take a joke even at his own expense. Though he's open even with strangers, he doesn't trust easily and is extremely tight-lipped about what his life before he started adventuring entailed. When in a potentially dangerous situation, however, it's almost as if he's an entirely different man, becoming focused, quieter, and more detached. As swiftly as he can establish connections in peaceful environments, adventuring with a team is honestly often stressful for him, and his frayed nerves can easily contribute to a conflict. Due to a desire to be in control, he feels compelled (and sometimes even duty-bound) to take on the leadership role, a role that reveals him to be a harsh taskmaster. On the occasions that he can feel comfortable with someone else being a leader (those occasions being when he recognizes a person as equally or more capable than himself), he will absolutely want to situate himself as an advisor of tactics and strategies. Though he has high standards, he is not a hypocrite, and will put in more than his share of effort, more than willing to offer a helping hand to those who are honestly in need or show a desire for learning and improvement.

Brief Backstory: Born in the far, far north, in a vast underground dark elven complex within the Barukstaed region, Ifrari was the first child of an average dark elf couple; a hunter father and a priestess mother. At two years old, his younger sister Rielgi was born. His sister exhibited a great magical talent in her early years, and when Ifrari learned she was to be formally tested for the full extend of her aptitude, he convinced his parents to go along and be tested as well - just in case he had some powers too. His parents allowed it, and so the siblings were taken by their mother to a temple for the aptitude test.

Ifrari was found to posses some small amount of magic, just enough to learn a few minor support spells. Though he was pleased to have a bit of what his sister had, his success was overshadowed by the frankly genius level of talent and vast amounts of mana his sister had. Ifrari was jealous and disappointed, because he'd built an expectation that he'd do everything alongside his sister. However, Rielgi was seen fit to be formally and thoroughly educated as a sorceress,and Ifrari was not. Even though they were close, Ifrari realized they would have to tread separate paths. In the end, this separation was not quite as dramatic as Ifrari had imagined; they still shared a living space, had their general education in common, and spent their free time together.

And so, during the period Rielgi spent learning how to use her inherent magical talents, Ifrari had committed himself to learning his father's skill in hunting, though when it came to wisdom and social relationships, he tended to turn to his mother. Ifrari was taught cautiousness, the layout of their underground network, the dangers that lurked both within (rivalry and duplicity) and without (the beasts they hunted - or were hunted by), and once his theoretical knowledge was satisfactory, he began learning more practical matters, such as how to make and utilize traps, how to handle a weapon, how to prepare the prey he caught et cetera. Sometime in his middle teens, Ifrari began hunting with his father's team, and not long after, he found himself a tutor he could trust to learn some magic. The spells he learned were all of a sort that could help in the pursuit and killing of beasts.

Years passed, and he became an established hunter of his own. He would have probably spent many years longer underground - perhaps till his death - if not for his sister. Rielgi completed her training, education, and apprenticeship, and became one of the youngest recognized independent masters of her craft at 18. As it so happened, she had specialized in terramancy, and encouraged Ifrari to go with her take a look at the outside world above ground, where dark elves rarely ventured. There was not strictly any need for the siblings to do so in secrecy, but such a momentous event was not something Rielgi wished to share with anyone but her brother (nor did she want to have it interrupted in any way by another). And so, they planned their expedition in secret. A fortnight later, they sneaked out.

That night...was memorable, to say the least. The lands they saw were cold and desolate, empty but for the snow. The night-sky was covered by storm-clouds, no hints of stars or the moon. It was utterly dreary and bitterly frigid. Hardly appealing. Yet, the wide, seemingly endless expanses of land were something the siblings hadn't seen beforehand. The outside was hauntingly beautiful. They were the only two living beings up there for miles and miles around. As the wind bit into their skin, the air clawed into their very being, and snow relentlessly assailed them, they stood, still and silent.

Moments later, they returned, covering their tracks as they did so. The sibling headed to sleep, each with their own thoughts, and did not discuss the mater until the following night. Then, Rielgi told him, "I want to go south," and "We should be living up there! Just imagine!" some time later. Ifrari wasn't so resolute, but he did indeed want to see above-ground lands that were actually inhabited, lands they'd only been told or had read about, lands that were consistently described as always vibrant and full of life. There might have been warnings of potential treachery in those stories too, but then again, didn't that danger exist everywhere?

In any case, the siblings were struck by wander-lust. However, they needed time to prepare and lay the ground for their departure. A year passed before they set out again. This time, they travelled underground, using established pathways whenever they could, creating their own or going above ground whenever they couldn't. As they travelled southwards, they saw many new things, and meeting eye to eye with the first non-elves and their way of life was quite the culture shock. Nonetheless, they adapted, and explored various villages, towns, and cities, not staying in any one place too long.

Eventually, they arrived in Estival. Ifrari learned of the Adventurer's Guild, and thought this was right up his alley - they had scouting and hunting missions his skill-set fit rather well. There was also the promise of a stable income, the chance to settle but also travel and adventure regularly. Rielgi, on the other hand, had her sights set on studying magic and see how her skills measured up to the best of the best. Once again, the siblings' paths deviated, and though Ifrari still got the occasional visit from his sister, their days of practically being attached at the hip were finally over. When he had been a child, the prospect of independence from his one trusted companion had terrified him, but now, as an adult, he could accept that he and his sister had each their own passions, desires, and purposes in life. Since the time Ifrari had registered at the Guild at 22, he had gradually moved through the ranks, and continues his days as a professional adventurer to this day.

Equipment: His armour is comprised of leather, cloth, and silk, which allows for easy and near-silent maneuverability. Even with some additional enhancements, the protection it offers is relatively minor. Ifrari carries with him a spear, a dagger, a hunting knife, several throwing needles, and a spool of wire. His spear is the most expensive and best crafted piece of equipment, as it is his primary weapon. The spear is sturdy, well-balanced, and can either be used in melee or thrown at an enemy. The blade of the spear has been enchanted to hold five charges of a paralyzing spell, which the caster can activate any time with a key-phrase. The spear's shaft is carefully insulated so the user is protected from being shocked alongside the enemy. When the charges run out, Ifrari can replenish them himself (which he typically does outside of a mission). He carries the spear in his hand, though if the situation requires it, he can always tie a piece of rope on it and sling it across his shoulder.

The scabbards of his knife and dagger are enchanted so as to allow for soundless sheathing and unsheathing. His boots have a good grip, comfortable for climbing and running. Hanging on his belt are several easy to access support items: two smoke bombs, one small-scale explosive bomb, and a bag of poison-laced caltrops. For longer, dangerous solo missions, he may buy a vial or two of regeneration/invigoration potion.

Ifrari also carries some general travelling supplies packed compactly in an easy-to-carry travelling bag (which contains food, water, a spool of rope, bandages, herbal poultices, a pot, a piece of flint, a bedroll). A definite constant among his equipment is also his person a journal (and writing implements), which he uses to sketch explored locations and encountered beings, as well as to make various notes.

Skills: Stealth and observation are practically a habit of Ifrari's, since he has been rigorously trained that noticing details and blending in or remaining unobserved are keys to his survival. The dark elf is extremely meticulous on missions, taking scouting to a t, researching all there is to know about a location and the enemies within. He can make functional, detailed maps of locations and sketches of enemies, which is quite the worthwhile skill for the guild. One of his drawbacks is that his activities take a lot of time and planning. Ifrari doesn't even consider that cautiousness, just a matter of course, though some others might even go so far as to term it paranoia.

Ifrari is a trained hunter, and has successfully utilized his skill for adventuring. He is exceptional at locating specific things or beings, detecting and making use of their various characteristics. He takes exploring and research to an almost obsessive degree, noting any shortcuts, nooks, and crannies of a location. Given some time, Ifrari can discover any and all weaknesses of an enemy that can be exploited - and exploit them he does. Combat-wise, Ifrari specializes in removing single targets or, at most, small groups. He is also a good treasure hunter, as he can remove objects from dangerous locations while minimalizing danger to himself. He is most familiar with underground cavernous terrain, though he's learned how to survive off the land (by hunting, sometimes gathering) above ground as well.

While he might hold on in a one-on-one confrontation (at least long enough to manage to escape somehow), direct fights are definitely not his forte. Though Ifrari has proven to be a capable back-up to front-line fighters, he is very picky when it comes to team-mates, as he absolutely despises recklessness. Unfortunately, some missions are simply too enticing to leave alone and also require a team, so as needs must...

Ifrari has an inherent well of mana just large enough to allow him to cast a limited amount of relatively simple spells. He has a rather wide variety of spells considering he is not primarily a caster. However, he doesn't have a large enough mana pool to use more than two or three spells consecutively, after which he will need some time to recover.

Spell list

Afanis. A minor illusion spell. Makes target more difficult to perceive and/or locate. Usually incorporated into a longer chant before a mission, so the spell lasts a few hours. The chant: "Light as a dust mote, swift as a swallow, may I be one with the wind, unseen wherever I tread. Afanis!"

Hypnos. A minor curse. Saps energy from an opponent, making them feel weaker and more tired, reducing their ferocity, reaction speed, and general effectiveness.

Paralytos. A minor electricity based spell which shocks the target. The effect varies based on the body part affected; a shock to the chest area will usually knock out the opponent, while a targeted limb will merely have its functionality reduced for a few minutes.

Haima. A minor curse. Ruptures small blood vessels and increases the severity of open wounds, making them bleed faster.

Stasi. This phrase attached to certain other spell-triggers makes those spells inactive until (physically or magically) disturbed. Useful for trap making.

Akouo. Temporarily heightens hearing/sensitivity to sounds. A minor enchantment lasting a few minutes.

Skeptomai. Temporarily sharpens eyesight. A minor enchantment lasting a few minutes.

Aktis. A light based spell which blinds anyone within a meter of the caster. Closing one's eyes negates the effect, while staring directly into the light-ball pronounces it. Lasts several seconds. A short incantation changes the offensive nature of the spell and shifts it to a purely utility functionality, basically altering it to work as a torch.

[Rin]

• Name: Signy Ironblood
• Age: 26
• Gender: Female
• Race: Ingvarr
• Rank: Five of Swords
• Appearance: "Wolf Father, give me strength."
• Personality: A proud warrior of the Ironblood clan of Ingvarr, who is supremely confident in her combat prowess and ability to survive the harshest conditions. Usually rather stoic and expressionless, Signy reserves her emotions for two occassions. The first is, naturally, whilst in battle; it is rather jarring for some to see her become a mad berserker, tearing apart enemies like a wild animal and spilling blood in the name of the Wolf Father. The second is after the battle is done, whilst celebrating over copious amounts of mead and ale; she is in fact quite the boisterous reveler once she's drunk, fond of loud chanting and singing as she praises both her faithful allies and fallen enemies. Another way to briefly break her from her usual stoic act is to mention her horns; Signy is rather sensitive about how small and "pathetic" her horns are, and at the very least will pout and become rather despondent if they are pointed out. And whilst she'll try not to show it too much, Signy has a weakness for cute things that is rather unbecoming of a proud warrior like herself.
• Brief Backstory: Living up to a heroic legacy isn't easy, especially when you're part of a culture that prides itself in its martial prowess and aptitude for survival in the harshest conditions and against the most vicious of foes. Signy's grandfather, Ragnar Orcdoom, is a legend amongst the Ingvarr for not only protecting his lands from orcish raids but for causing all but the most brave and foolhardy to steer clear of the Ingvarr lands altogether, becoming something of a bogeyman amongst the green horde. As Signy herself puts it, "There aren't many orcs in my homeland. My grandfather's name was not an exaggeration." And despite his vaunted, legendary status and despite her pathetic, stunted horns, Ragnar always treated Signy kindly, as though she was his most beloved grandchild. Signy in turn idolized her grandfather, and when he passed his axe onto her on his deathbed she was filled with determination to prove herself worthy of both his legacy and the honour of wielding his weapon. Still, no matter how much she trained and how many vicious beasts and deadly enemies she slayed, she could never shake off her feelings of inadequacy, that compared to Ragnar she was nothing more than a pathetic weakling with stunted horns. She still needed to prove herself, and with that in mind once she turned twenty years of age she bid her people farewell to pursue a career as a mercenary down south, hoping to return with tales of legendary exploits fitting for a descendant of Ragnar Orcdoom.
• Equipment: Signy wields the mighty battleaxe Slayer, an ancestral relic once wielded by her grandfather Ragnar Orcdoom. Despite not being inherently magical, the amount of orc blood it has shed causes a sense of almost supernatural fear in any orcs who gaze upon it. In addition, she also carries a non-descript but functional dagger, and wears a suit of mail armour with a breastplate for additional protection.
• Skills: Subtlety isn't exactly part of Signy's fighting style; rather, her ability to viciously kill just about anything with her axe is both remarkably unsubtle and self-evident. In battle she is like a whirlwind of death, hacking apart any foe who dares come near her. Even worse for her enemies, if pushed into a corner Signy has trained herself to be able to enter a berserk state, where she seemingly feels no pain and fights with the strength that surpasses what she is usually capable of. However, she is only willing to utilize this state if there is no other option, as after she calms down any injuries she sustained will catch up to her; not only this but her seemingly enhanced strength is merely her shutting down the mental blocks that normally prevent people from overexerting themselves and thus no matter what she will be drained and exhausted at the very least afterwards. Due to the harsh territory she hails from, Signy is naturally well trained in the arts of survivalism, hunting and tracking.

[PaulHaynek]

Better Call Sakura

Name: Jane Doe

True Name

Rosalor "Rose" Heldt

Age: 27

Gender: Female

Race: Human

Rank: 4 of Swords

Appearance

Real Appearance

Personality:
Most Adventurers would know Jane as a quiet, timid and detached individual from the rest of the guild. She speaks very plainly and rarely about anything other than business. However, Jane has a noticeably different disposition when talking with complete, one-off strangers or when she's just representing the guild. She is more open and friendly in such times, bringing no shortage of confusion from her peers.

Jane also never takes off her helmet with the reason that she is incredibly ugly. Like, incredibly ugly with the claim that her birth went horribly wrong.

The Truth

Rose keeps up a charade of a quiet, detached person to deflect attention from her as well as to prevent any meaningful relationships from forming. Rose did not trust herself not to spill her secrets and so, decided to simply prevent any chance of that happening by not getting close to anyone. A choice that brings Rose grief since she very much desires friends and companionship and would like to belong in the Adventurer's Guild.

Living as low-profile as possible, Rose also never takes off her helmet (and by extension, armor) when around people so that no one would ever recognize her. As a neat bonus, the helmet also hides her debilitating paranoia. Rose's eyes usually darts around, scanning the area for anyone who threatened her secret. Without the helmet, no doubt many would already suspect her of hiding something grave.

Even with all these measures taken, Rose still looks over her shoulder and keeps one eye open during sleep. Eternally in fear that her past would catch up to her.

Brief Backstory:
Jane was from a distant land that shunned her horribly disfigured appearance, forcing her to journey all the way to Estival where she applied to be an Adventurer. She wanted to establish a new life in Estival and leave her past behind forever. She started first by disavowing her surname and taking on 'Doe'. Thus, Jane Doe the Adventurer was born.

The Troof

Rose was from Thaln a devout believer of Mayon and the Captain of a town guard. She was once just a simple guard of that townbut then climbed the ranks through skill and ingenuity. She was a little famous too for being outgoing and approachable for a Guard Captain. Most in the town considered her a friend first before a Guard Captain.

But the town was obscure and located in the outskirts, perfect prey for bandits and raiders. Rose regularly fought against these brigands but a band of them soon appeared that was too big to win against with just the town guard. The bandit band, however, offered Rose a deal: In exchange for keeping quiet about their whereabouts and housing them in the town, they will never operate explicitly in the town and never cause any trouble, maintaining the image of a quiet, little town.

Rose took the deal. Reinforcements from the main cities were too far to come help in time and she justified her decision that as a Mayonite, she needed to keep the peace and defend the innocent from violence. She believed that if she did not, her beloved hometown would go up in flames and watch its inhabitants, people she knew and grew up with, slaughtered or forced from their homes. However, she did not plan to honor the deal for long. She would rat them out when the time was right.

But that time never came, the bandit band was already being tailed by a military regiment and was defeated and crushed. Prisoners were likely rounded up and questioned. Realizing what was going to happen, Rose grasped the full extent of her treachery and how Thaln's authorities will likely go after her soon. She knew the right thing to do was to face her actions and turn herself in, but courage failed the Guard Captain and she left everything behind, destroying any traces of her that she could find and fled north. Far, far north.

She eventually landed in Estival and in an Adventurer's Guild there, reasoning that the guild could hide her better than any other profession in the land. By that point, Rose was a shell of her former self. Taking on the identity of 'Jane Doe', she hid her true self as much as possible. Gone were her days as a defender of the people, as someone great. Rose knew she would live the rest of her life hiding and fearing and crying.

Equipment:
Jane came to the guild with her signature armor, a pair of thin swords and a heater shield painted completely white.

The Tower Shield

The heater shield had the stylized rose marked on it, the emblem of the Church of Mayon. Rose had to paint it over to hide it.

Skills:
Despite the appearance, Jane was no remarkable fighter. Despite applying as a Sword, she could barely hold her own against Swords ranked 4 and higher. The guild trained her as best they could but Jane showed minimal progress.

Still, the guild could always use an extra pair of hands. She was mostly relegated to menial tasks in the guild like cleaning and cooking. She could also be tasked to do the easy jobs that the guild requires.

The Toort

Rose is an accomplished warrior, being a Guard Captain and having fought numerous battles against bandits. She knew how to fight with her heater shield, knowing multiple ways to use the shield in battle, but she could also fight dual-wielding her blades with the shield protecting her back.

But she had to hide her skills, throwing her fights in the guild's application process. Swallowing her pride as she let those clearly weaker than her beat her to the ground. But it was a price she needed to pay to keep her secret and she could only watch in envy as those who need not hide their skills achieve glory.

Other than fighting, Rose has some knowledge about management, planning of defenses and survival in the wilderness. As a Guard Captain, she had to know these things.