[CHAR] Final Fantasy Crystallum en Absentia

Roster

[mickilennial]

Name

Dentrisica Era Banecroft
_{Nicknamed Mitra by her father, she chooses to go by it in his honor.}

Race

Human

Age

19-20

Class

Dragoon

Place of Origin

Labrethian Empire

Personality

Tsundere

Backstory

At the height of the Labrethian Empire, House Banecroft has stood as its stalwart protectors. In antiquity they rode atop dragons as they flung javelins down upon their enemies. For some it’s a story, an old fairytale meant to inspire the next generation of heroes; for others it is historical fact and something that should be remembered by all men on Atles.

For Dentrisica Era Banecroft it has always been both. The glory and honor of being a member of House Banecroft has always inspired the Laberthian noble since she was a child, especially so as it appeared that much like the dragons much of the prestige of the Banecroft’s had faded. The Labrethian Empire was glorious and true, but many of the legendary houses had fallen into the annals of history or subjugated to lesser roles once their dynasty stopped producing heroes worthy of the empire. In the skies above of the Imperial City, the heroes of the Banecroft Dynasty would one day fly again; or at least, that was the great hope.

Dentrisica’s childhood was full of prestige, wealth, and privilege. She received the finest books, the greatest of teachers, and the frilliest of pillows. Despite this, Mitra was an unruly child, often getting into trouble where she could get it. Unlike other imperial children it wasn’t something she did out of a lack of attention, but rather a unfulfilling sense of adventure and boredom.

[Hero]

_{May you ever walk in the light of the crystal.}

Name:

Luna Cadewyn

_{a.k.a. Lunaria Estacise Alexandros VII}

Race:

'Elezen'

Age:

21

Class:

Bard

Place of Origin:

Alexandria

Personality:

Determined
Courageous
Gentle
Standoffish
Neurotic

Backstory:

The moment that a widowed King Aconitum Napellus XV decided to take an elezen bride named Belladonna, it was safe to say that the decision had made quite a buzz. The fact that she was affiliated with the Holy Alexander Church did soften the blow somewhat, as did his apparent desire to give young Prince Asterius a mother. The controversy flared when their union resulted in a child--there were those that believed it was nothing short of an omen. He bequeathed the name of the kingdom's founder to her, claiming that the princess' birth was a symbol of unity and peace.

Despite being second in line for the throne, Luna has lived a majority of her life away from the public eye. She was cited as having poor health and painted as a delicate girl, her appearances few and far in-between. A majority of her time was spent studying aldite for purposes unknown, although it took years for her to realize how odd her life was. Aside from having little royal responsibility, her father often pushed her towards research and generally discouraged interacting with anyone he didn't approve of. He stressed that there were too many people in the world that wanted nothing more than to use her for their own purposes.

Two months ago, Luna discovered a journal that ended up completely changing her viewpoint. She began questioning many things in her life, and after a confrontation with her father, she decided she needed to strike out on her own. Once the borders were closed, she quietly made preparations to escape the castle.

With a harp bow and an array of Songs in hand, Luna specializes in providing support from a distance. Her melodies have an assortment of effects on both friend and foe, ranging from healing and buffing to distractions and debuffing.

[Lugubrious]

Ordinary Gal(e)

Name: Artemisia

Race: Human

Age: 22

Class: Black Mage

Place of Origin: Mount Osraphel, Bellas

Personality: Quiet and dignified on the outside, even lazy at times, Artemisia isn't exactly outgoing, but in truth she's more than a little spirited. Her passions include knowledge -trivia in particular-, stories both personal and grandiose, and drama, and it's no surprise that those plus her good memory and quick wit incline her towards large words, formal speech, occasional babbling, theatrical behavior, and interesting people Thoughtful, considerate, curious, and even spunky, she's cordial enough that one might never guess there's yet another side to her. With her dander up Artemisia becomes far more impulsive, temperamental and inclined to violence. She's a believer in karmic justice, including paying violence against violence, but more than that she's a believer in Garudism, the beliefs practiced by Skybound that denounce humanity in favor of a pristine, natural world where the fittest survive. Her cult taught that any action in service to the cause is justified, and that outsiders would never understand. Weirder still, Artemisia has a thing for monster people, specifically people turned into monsters and the act of turning them. In these ways, her upbringing tinges her fundamental empathy with distinctly out-of-whack morals.

Backstory: Tucked away in one corner of the vast and disparate lands that house the Free Cities of Ballas is a mountain like no other. Towering above its range, it reaches up, up, up into the clouds, and no other place in Atles boasts such a profundity of wind. It dances through the trees and across the jagged cliffs, singing and howling, and veins of air aldite course through the earth as its very lifeblood. From a colossal thermal vent in the mountain's heart an endless stream of warm wind pushes skyward, and pieces of the mountain float upon it. Upon this remote peak lie the sprawling village of the Skybound, a clandestine society dedicated to the worship of the primal being of air, Garuda. It was here that Artemisia was born.

From her early years, in the manner of all children whose gifts in sorcery were identified by the village elders, she was trained in black magic. Like the others, her parents raised her as a wholehearted follower of Garudism, beloved guardian of ancient skies who ruled over all creation. The cult eschewed humanity, blaming them for the fall from the paradise that existed under the crystals and swearing revenge. They lived in isolation and fanaticism. Yet, she received something the other children didn't thanks to her father, an outsider captured by the Skybound but deemed unfit for Ascension. Rather than be subjected to other, less glamorous rituals, Solom found salvation at the hands of the woman who'd go on to become Artemisia's mother Essentia, who'd fallen for his wittiness, charm, and good looks. A deliveryman from a nearby kingdom, Solomon could visit the village and his daughter every so often, bringing goods to trade to endear himself to the locals while keeping up the guise of being a devoted Garudist. He helped reel her back from sinking too deep into the cult, and once in a while managed to sneak her away from the mountain atop his delivery roc to visit civilization. Her love for knowledge and drama bloomed during this time, and she longed to learn more of the outside world.

But forces pulled her homeward, too. As she came of age she became involved in the Climb, the cult's longstanding practice of abduction and experimentation in order to bring about a successor to Garuda. After capturing outsiders, the cult's Skybound Seekers brought them before the elders, who would determine whether they would were fit for Ascension. The many who did not would be subjected to horrifying aldite experimentation, used as testbeds for the improvement of treatments designed to transform people into monstrous airborne fiends. The lucky few would undergo Ascension, mutated by the latest and greatest aldite treatments into the likeness of Garuda herself. Then the Skybound forced them to go up, to the peak of the mountain and beyond, higher than even the clouds, to the lofty island well beyond the reach of the mountain's thermals where legends tell the Crystal of Air once rested. None completed the ascent, but the Skybound labored on. It was only a matter of time until their formulas led them to a successor, Garuda reborn, fit to lead them in glorious revolution.

Artemisia worked as an assistant to the mages who experimented on the unfit and eventually joined their ranks, inundating captives with aldite until they became Alters, then fiends. It made her skin crawl, but somehow it fascinated her all the more. Despite -or perhaps because of- the wrongness of it all, she'd discovered a deep-seeded passion for corrupting people into monsters, but that obsession led to her trying different amounts of different aldite to see what traits would arise. Her misuse of resources eventually led to her reassignment as a Seeker.

Leaving the mountain behind, she set out into the world at last, her mission to keep an eye out for candidates she could collect return to the Skybound. Her journey took her across the land of Bellas and its Free Cities, visiting each in turn and bearing witness to their muriad wonders. Away from the cult and the intoxicating fumes of the labs and the mountain itself, Artemisia changed. Her fervor for Garuda and the rites of Ascension waned, replaced by her resurgent fascination with the cultures and creations of other societies. She could never deny the shadow of Garuda that hung over her, but Artemisia reasoned that the guardian -having already slept a millennia- could surely wait a little longer. She soon found herself traveling all over in search of interesting people, beasts, places, and the stories that surrounded them all. While Bellas contained enough points of interest for a lifetime, that troublesome necessity of money kept her working odd jobs, and one stuck her with a caravan that took her all the way north to Alexandria. As luck would have it, borders closed soon after she arrived. Trapped in an unknown city, she enlisted in the Hunters' Guild despite the risks for the good pay and ability to travel freely.

(As a black mage she has a 'rod', which she uses in ways many might deep unconventional for a magician)

[Savo]

Vital Information

Name:

Blaike Fremont
_{Real name being Blaike Lucis Sustinetis}

Race:

"Human"
_{Actually a Fire Alter}

Job:

Red Mage

Age:

Twenty-One

Origin:

Labrethian Empire

---

---

Personal Information

Personality:

Arrogant | Determined | Flirtatious | Melancholic | Relaxed

Backstory:

The House Sustinetis, renown throughout the Labrenthian Empire for myriads of things, ranging from raising and grooming powerful, natural magi, to spearheading and participating in the creation and research of many practical and intuitive inventions and technology, most involving some form of aldite. While not as prominent as before, they are one of the few Houses that retains a powerful position due to their inexhaustible and insatiable drive towards research and innovation. Whatever it may be, the House Sustinetis will always remain an integral part of the Labrenthian Empire's history, whether it be from the genesis of the House to the death of it.

Blaike was the first of three children in the House Sustinetis, born to Lady and Lord Sustinetis, two magically adept researchers with a seat on the Labrenthian Council and a decent amount of clout and influence. From the day he was born, everything seemed almost too perfect, at least to the child, demonstrating a high level of skill with magic and an enthusiasm for research that rivaled both of his own parents combined. He seemed to be a budding prodigy in both these fields, and Blaike seemed to be on the fast track to being set for the rest of his life. Strangely enough though, even with seemingly having this small world at his finger tips, it wasn't enough.

The enthusiasm he had was spawned for a thirst, a gnawing curiosity about this world; he wasn't just content with what he had, there was a desire for more. When Blaike wasn't hard at work practicing his magic and studying aldite physics, he would explore this city, coming into contact with various, interesting individuals of all shapes and sizes. Blaike bonded with them, learned more about their own plights, regardless of their race or background. It was quite the interesting endeavor as he bonded with those he might of never encountered in his own life, but alas that would come to an end as a result of the Pale Moon Night.

As a teenager, Blaike participated in research and experiments alongside his parents, even dipping his toe into politics when discussing the different castes in the city. However, one of the few experiments he would participate in with his family would bring a supposed end to the House Sustinetis. Supposedly, some researchers and scientists claimed they made a revolutionary breakthrough involving utilizing the miasma as energy. Tempted by such prospects, their curiosity got the better of them as they were lured into a trap, with many others. At the behest of the lead scientist, all of them were subject to horrific aldite injections and placed into pods that would dispense them at key locations around the city.

Tragedy soon ensued as the victims of this experiment were ejected from the pods, now either a horrific Fiend or a 1st Generation Alter. Blaike, despite the pain, was lucky to be a part of the former and would bear witness to the slaughter of his people in what would be known as the Pale Moon Night. Fighting and fleeing through the hoards of Fiends, mechs, and many other individuals, his first instinct was to head back home in some form of desperation, only to find it in shambles, with Fiends lurking about the area.

Evaluating the future, he took a risk and entered the house, snatching up the closest thing he had to a family heirloom before departing. He had his pride as a Sustinetis and knew full well that he was in no state to fix his home, so he fought through, helped a couple of people, and ran. It was difficult finding a way out of the city, especially since the gates had been shut, but through creative use of his magic and exploitation of weakened defenses, Blaike fled. His mind ran as fast as he did, coming up with a couple of contingency plans on how he would handle this all, even asking himself why they did this.

All that didn't matter when he eventually he crossed paths with some people in a caravan, passing out near their camp. Upon awakening, he had found himself inside one of their mechanical wagons, hungry and thirsty. Thankfully, the ones camping there for the night were kind enough to supply him with food and gave him some water to drink. It was peculiar on multiple levels, ranging from the fact that all of them looked like they belonged in a lab than the wilderness, as well as their high levels of kindness.

What he eventually learned was that these people had a part in that project that caused the suffering of Labrenthian, stating that they didn't want any part in this project, since their original intentions were corrupted by some of the new management, and explained their kindness was because they felt responsible for Blaike's condition, fully realizing who he was. Blaike, while he felt he could never forgive these people, asked where they were fleeing to, as well as their names. Upon explaining they were seeking refuge in the Kingdom of Alexandria, as well as giving the young man their names, Blaike stated he would be coming with them, as well as the fact that he would be taking up one of their last names as cover; as far as he knew, he was presumed dead back in Labrethian.

No longer Blaike Lucis Sustinetis, but Blaike Fremont, he traveled with the self-exiled researchers to Alexandria in hopes that their own talents could lend themselves to a job somewhere. It didn't take long for whispers of a caravan that looked to be from Labrenthian to surge through the city and reach the Royal Scientist's ears. Taking advantage of this new wave, as well as their expertise, he requested for an interview with them and asked each of them, including Blaike, to display some form of mechanical or technological skill. While they did just that, Blaike recalled one of his creations back in Labrenthian and did his best to recreate it from scratch; he essentially recreated an ice cream machine that was powered by aldite.

Upon demonstrating their skills, the Royal Scientist hired them all for their talents and would often send them off on different tasks, as well as participate in a years long experiment he was doing. Of course, due to his eccentricities and disregard for safety protocols from time to time, everyone was somewhat wary of the man, Blaike included.

Regardless, for the next five years Blaike would live here in Alexandria, doing tasks for the Royal Scientist, even going out into the wilds to collect data or gather material. It would of been left to the Hunters Guild, if not for the Royal Scientist learning of Blaike's magical potential, and would often have him act as both bodyguard and researcher. Beyond that, he would go on to pick up various new skills and even generate a profit off of selling ice cream to nobles when he wasn't cooped up in the facilities with the other scientists and researchers. However, these were the steps he needed to take towards reclaiming his birthright after all, as well as seeking the truth behind the Pale Moon Night.

[Mcmolly]

big

Name
Ianthe

Race
Human

Age
22

Class
Fighter

Place of Origin
Alexandria

Personality
-More like PaciFIST
-Honor or gtfo
-Talk is cheap, but medicants are expensive
-Respect and provide for your peasantry so I know it’s real
-I want to like you, but I don’t have to like you to tank for you
-Sword and Bored
-If I hear the words “proper lineage” or “unfit for knighthood” one more time I am going to snap
-The strong who don’t protect the weak are weak themselves
-Motivate don’t dictate
-Just a small town girl
-Don’t have to worry about having big shoes to fill if your family can’t afford shoes

Backstory
Growing up along Alexandria’s border, Ianthe learned early what it was like being invisible. Argo was a small village of only a dozen or so families, most of which were farmers. Ianthe’s parents maintained meager if consistent crops, and made their living at the markets of bigger towns. The Alexandrian regency only ever remembered them when the levies were due, and the soldiers came knocking, equal parts expectant and disdainful of the place and its people. They didn’t care whether the harvests were barren or bounteous, they didn’t care if the bandits had come through and left them empty, the payment could be coin, it could be property, it could be conscription, so long as the crown received its due.

The bandits who trolled the edge of the Free Cities, fearing no retaliation, had fallen into a routine with Argo. They came, they took, and if they felt generous, they left enough for the levies. The fiends had no mind for negotiation, and though they came more rarely, their attacks never went without casualty. When it became clear that no help was coming, no matter how desperate Argo’s pleas, most of the families resigned themselves to their fate.

Not Ianthe.

They didn’t have weapons, really. Farm tools and slabs of wood bound with rope were just about all she had to work with, at first. She was tough, weathered even as a girl, and put up enough of a fight against the smaller bands to drive them off. She gathered scraps of armor and shoddy old swords this way, which came in handy, because meeting fiends with nothing but an old scythe and hammer wasn’t going to cut it. Hell, the bandits’ rusty swords and roughshod armor only just had her scraping by.

Iron and steel sated the taxmen just fine, and the viscera of fiends pulled interest at the markets, which meant that Argo was, for the first time, making a profit.

As Ianthe grew older, the bandits grew indignant and sparse, the fiends only grew fiercer, and the international relations grew tense, but by gods were the levies as steady as the day she was born. People had begun noticing Argo’s greater contributions to the markets, and eventually word began to spread of Ianthe and the few villagers who had taken up Argo’s defense alongside her, too stubborn to just roll over and let fate befall them. Merchants tried to hire her on for protection, mercenary bands offered her more money than Argo had paid since she was a child, even the regency came asking after her enlistment, citing her duty to the crown, and to the people of Alexandria. It was the Hunters Guild that intrigued her.

Ianthe, admittedly, was not very adventurous. She had a small life in a small home, and had spent most of her years focused on protecting it. The Hunters Guild, however, was genuine in a way that she admired: it wasn’t about debt, or civic duty, it was just about keeping people safe. She understood that, she respected that, but she couldn’t reconcile leaving home for it. Not until the borders shut, suddenly and almost inexplicably, and the levies increased. It seemed as though Alexandria had entered into some sort of national emergency, perhaps even all of Atles.

It was then she realized that Argo had overestimated its profits. With the borders shut, that meant the Free City markets and bandits were gone, which left only the distant Alexandrian markets, whose competition had only grown fiercer. They could bring crops, but they couldn’t match prices. Soon they would be back where they started, penniless and at the mercy of the regency.

So, Ianthe made a difficult choice. She left Argo in the care of the men and women who had protected it with her, and set off for the Hunters Guild. She hopes the steady work, and maybe a bit of luck, will be enough to keep her home above water until Atles settles down.

If it settles down.

[Raijinslayer]

My Hider

Name: Avaddon
Race: Alter(Hyur)
Age: 27
Class: Monk
Place of Origin: Kingdom of Fabul
Personality: Avaddon is a man of strong passions, stronger appetites, and carries in his chest a heart that burns with a desire to help everyone he comes across. Honorable to a fault, and a staunch believer in second chances, one will have a hard time spotting a meaningful frown on the gigantic man's face.
Backstory: Avaddon comes from a tribe known to serve as guides and guards to many that travel through the burning deserts of Fabul. This group, known as the Red Storm tribe, are well known for their strict codes of honor and militaristic warrior culture. Everyone in the tribe must be able to fight and hold their own, or be cast-off as weak and left to the desert sands. If they manage to survive long enough to find the tribe again, however, they are declared worthy of being welcomed back.

Avaddon has always been a strong warrior of his tribe, huge in size and ferocious in battle, with an eye and nose suited well for braving the fierce desert wilderness. But he has never been able to rest easy among his sworn brothers, for to them all, he is something strange. An Alter, mutated by magic into something less than human, at least in the eyes of his tribesman. He had to fight hard to prove himself worthy, but many achievements were put down to his curse. That he fought with the strength of a beast because he was himself one, that he needed to be kept away from, that he was a danger to everyone.

It was a rough experience to grow up under, unable to make friends or close relationships with any others in his tribe, but it is this very isolation that made him so great with foreigners. While others of the Red Storm maintained a professional attitude of cold social distance from those they ferried, Avaddon drank, made merry, and set himself with a strong network of friends through his duties. The companionship he sought at home was found with foreigners and travelers who looked past his origins to see him as a man, the same as any other. Not all were like this, but enough that he knew that life in the tribe was no longer what he wanted. Unfortunately, he was an honorable man and refused to leave his family without him, who had always accepted him as their son.

Luckily, the chance to escape one day came in the form of a marriage proposal, and from the chief of the tribe no less. As tradition dictates, the strongest and most skilled warrior in the tribe would be offered the hand of chieftan's daughter, so as to ensure a strong line in the future generations. So it has always been, but with Avaddon, the prospect of allowing such a beast to claim such a position would undoubtedly cause much strife. However, the chief mad this offer with a twist. For to prove his worth as a warrior, the chief would send the prospective husband to go out and slay a beast of great power, bringing back a trophy of some sort to present as his wedding dowery. Doe Avaddon, the beast in question was named. . . a Behemoth. Rare as they are powerful, it was a death sentence in all but name. . . and one Avaddon accepted with reverence.

With this quest, impossible as it was, he was given free leave to explore the world as he saw fit, secure in the knowledge that his family would be cared for as the rules of the challenge dictate. while leaving it all behind was a bitter-sweet feeling, Avaddon left his home into the world with a feeling of excitement, unsure of what awaited him.

[Bounce]

Name

Nyan
_{Full name at birth O'nyan Tia ("o nyh'an"), though this is unknown to him.}

Race

Miqo'te (Seeker of the Sun)

Age

12

Class

Thief

Place of Origin

Free Cities of Bellas

Personality

At first blush, Nyan appears no different than any other kit his age; usually presenting as an active, tactile youth who has difficulty with sitting still, inside voices, or quietly observing something. While it is true that he is a curious cat, and easily distracted, he's far more perceptive and intelligent than he leads others to believe.

Backstory

A free spirit, Nyan hails from the Gloriannas Coastal region of Atles. A bastard sired by an ousted nuhn, Nyan was abandoned by his tribe on the streets of one of the Free Cities. Adopted into roving gangs of street kids, the boy was brought up in a nomadic chaos that valued sharp wit, keen eyes, and sleight of hand. Most of all, he learned how to move unnoticed in a crowd, lightening the coin purses or lifting a loaf of bread from a merchant's stall before slipping away. His penchant for travel was not his original intention. On the run from the town guards for a minor misunderstanding regarding proper ownership of a piece of fruit, a brass gorget, and possibly a bone ring as well (who's counting?), the young Miqo'te stowed away among the cargo of a caravan that had departed for the road before he could disembark from his hiding spot.

Now, he's on his own. With only his wits and a pair of daggers, the young thief hopes to one day make it into the Hunter's Guild (or, at least, score a Guild Mark) so that he might be able to travel without the fear of being discovered as a stowaway, sneaking his way into or out of towns. But, in the meantime, it's not as though Altes has given him a lot of options.

[Obscene Symphony]

_{J’torha has one gold eye (left) and one red eye (right), a trait his tribe considered lucky. He generally dresses in brightly coloured, loose-fitting clothes that allow for plenty of movement and attractive flourish, and is fond of beads, bells, bangles - really anything that attracts attention to motion. One might notice his matching scars on either cheek, but they’re the one topic J’torha’s more likely to shy away from.}

Name

J’torha Tia

Race

Miqo’te - Seeker of the Sun

Age

23

Class

Dancer

Place of Origin

Fabul Desert

Personality

J’torha knows a little about a lot of things and a lot about little; plainly speaking, he’s not an expert at much outside of singing, dancing, flirting and making merry, unless you also count boring things like tribal hunting tactics or eking out an existence in the harsh Fabul desert. Generally happiest when all eyes are on him - even at his own expense - his airy confidence tends to stray into cockiness, and he doesn’t see much beyond the moment, often blind to the consequences of his hastily-decided actions. Like as not, that can end poorly when his urge to push the envelope overrides his common sense, but he offsets his occasional bad luck with an insufferable ‘could have been worse’ attitude, rarely taking much of anything seriously.

Backstory

J’torha had a relatively normal upbringing, as Fabul Seekers are concerned. Born into an average-sized nomadic tribe with a strong and level-headed nunh, J’torha spent his childhood roaming a long-established migratory path through the rough of the Fabul desert, stopping off at small outposts and settlements every now and then and hunting for food and other valuable trading materials in between.

As soon as he could walk, he was difficult to keep still; among other antics, he was notorious for running off in the direction of anything that caught his eye, danger or obstacles be damned. The letting-off of rambunctious energy that his mother prayed for as he grew never quite arrived, and even as a teen when he became as proficient a hunter as any of his sisters, his penchant for getting himself into trouble was a regular headache - both for his mother, and the nunh himself. Stopping off at outposts did nothing to curb his appetite for adventure, either; in fact, the only habit of his that changed with time was that he eventually stopped chasing mice and butterflies and started chasing comely maidens instead.

In the rare moments when he wasn’t letting his lower head do all the thinking, J’torha found himself entranced by performing. Whether it be watching a busker in a town they’d stopped off at, listening to a well-told story in a pub, or even regaling his own mother and sisters with stories and songs, J’torha couldn’t get enough. The eyes of spectators focused on him, the excited questions, the clapping, the showmanship - it was all intoxicating, enough to turn a teenaged Miqo’te into an insufferable showboat, eager to show anyone and everyone anything that might possibly draw out a reaction. Granted, it did have the side effect of turning an already devil-may-care teen into an outright daredevil, but in J’torha’s eyes, the risk was always worth the reward of a striking tale to tell.

Things changed quickly for him when he came of age. Striking out on his own shortly after his nameday with the ever-original goal of amassing his own harem and starting a new tribe, it shouldn’t come as a surprise that J’torha’s gotten a little… side-tracked. Filled as he is with wanderlust and finally free to pursue a life outside of hunting, he’s clamoured to every destination he could beg, borrow, or steal to get to and tried his hand at every skill, profession, and strange-look-attracting hobby that’s crossed his path. About a year into his wandering he was fortunate enough to cross paths with a dancing troupe, and after some negotiating, some flirting, and a little begging, he managed to convince them to take him on as an apprentice. He traveled with them for a while, quickly moving up the ranks from assistant to instrumentalist to dancer in his own right, and attracted spectators and coin alike with his performances (and if he could line his pockets a little thicker by obliging the wealthy lady eyeing him up from the back, all the better). But of course, once he’d acquired his skills and begun to sharpen them, his wanderlust could no longer be sated by routine troupe touring, and he struck out on his own again as a solo act, doing his best to learn new songs and dances to add to his repertoire in every locale he passed through.

Today he finds himself in Alexandria, chafing under the pressure of the newly-closed borders. Out of options to entertain himself stuck in one place and unwilling to give crossing out of the city illegally another go (as it turns out, that garrison’s a lot quicker than they look) he’s turned to the Hunter’s Guild as a last resort, hopeful he can shake a few hands and slay a few shrews and be out of the city by the end of the fortnight.