[CHAR] A Sea of Spells [Chapter 1: A Scrap in The Galley]

[RoseKnightJason]

NPC Pirates

James "Bone Chime," Monroe

Name: James Nathaniel Monroe
Age: 26
Occupation: Captain
Height: 6'2"
Weight: 180lbs
Appearance: James likes to hang loose clothing over his long and muscular frame. Better to be unassuming than show off the dense muscles years of work and fighting have sculpted for him. He has long curly uncombed hair, and a scruffy beard. Otherwise he looks like any other handsome bugger in England.

Bio:

James is a drifter like the rest of them. At fifteen he became a cabin boy in a privateering ship. Then, when the privateer work died off and so many of those ships became pirate ships, the choice to transition into the life was made for him. Life at sea, specifically stealing and killing, has been all he's ever known. Now at 26 it seems rather impossible to him to pick up a trade, apprentice under a blacksmith or leather worker. No, what would be the point?

Instead he'll stay on this path until he reaches the horizon. Maybe whatever's there will be worth it. Maybe his life will be cut short. One thing he's always known: it's the ocean he loves. It was what attracted him to the job in the first place. The chance to go anywhere except the old port of Liverpool. A ship is a ticket to freedom. Every sailor feels this and knows it. Since he first set foot in one the wooden planks have felt more welcoming than any cobblestone street or forest path.

For a time James stayed on his original ship. Under a man named Jefferson. One day they lost a proper sea battle to Veronica's own ship of which she was already captain. It was unclear why they had attacked, but before they all knew it they were being given the choice. Join today or sail away with their lives but no loot. James chose to join after seeing Veronica's supernatural prowess. This was before she demanded a religious commitment from her crew, and James enjoyed his time there at least as much as he enjoyed his first job. Veronica even informed him he had occult talent. He had apparently inherited druidic blood on his mother's side. Which made sense considering she was Irish. This led to his development in Biomancy. Though he uses it in certain gruesome ways specialized for combat, that portion of magic is actually of the Life Domain.

Now, Captain Kidd has gifted him with a sloop of his own. It was Kidd who taught him what piracy really is. Really, piracy is a rebellion. Against the government, against the gods, against one's own life circumstances. It is not only a means to make money, though it can be quite good at that if you're clever, piracy is what a person does when the whole world has fucked them over and they want to tell it right back to go fuck itself.

So with this spirit he's recruiting. James doesn't necessarily believe himself to be a "captain-ly," individual. He doesn't believe he particularly deserves the job. He does, however have the experience. Really, he learned from Kidd, a Captain's job should be to lead the crew in battle and mediate disagreements. Maybe come up with a good plan or two to decide who to rob. Other than that, the whole crew should be equal.

Kidd is a bit more sympathetic, but James believes the way Veronica and Blackbeard do piracy gives them all a bad name. The English papers can call them all cold blooded murderers because of their body counts. James sees himself and the Republic as the greatest band of thieves ever assembled. He intends to make sure the world knows that one day.

Natural Abilities

James is a balance between strength, speed, and technique. He hits hard enough to do serious damage to a bigger opponent, is fast enough to keep up with a smaller one, and talented enough to take on smarter or more versatile enemies. This of course means he'll never win a straight contest against a specialist. He must choose which skill to apply to which situation in order to succeed.

He likes to train with many different kinds of weaponry, really any he can get his hands on. In this way he has become a true jack of all trades. He is proficient with rifles, pistols, blunderbuss, large and small cutlasses, batons, daggers, and has even spent some time fencing. Every once in a while a French sailor makes their way onto a pirate deck.

Unarmed, James quite likes wrestling the way the Greeks and Romans did it. He finds it useful for incapacitating and restraining an opponent, so that they can no longer hit you.

Equipment

Flintlock Pistol × 2: slightly extended barrel for accuracy and range. Sanded grip for comfort.

Light single handed Cutlass. Standard cup hand guard. 3.5 foot blade.

Magical Abilities

Magic Type: Biomancy

Basic Effects: James's spell work allows him to absorb and produce organic material at will. This could be weapons or other intricate shape made of bone, extra limbs, even copying the organs of other living creatures. Both magical and natural. Poison sacs, gills, jagged teeth, night vision, anything nature has created is at his disposal. Not to mention generally he may increase the number of bones, muscles, and organs which are in his body.

When it comes to magical beasts, he must first come into contact with said animal before he can reproduce it's anatomy.

The cost to casting spells in this style is the organic material must come from somewhere. Plant material will do in a pinch, but animals (and people) do much better for when large mass is needed. A bit of blood won't do, either. To create a venom sack and fangs in his mouth, he would need to absorb an entire rat, for example. He can store an amount of organic material within his body equivalent to his own body weight, and usually does so at all times to be ready for an engagement.

Advanced Spells:

Touch of Entropy: though this is technically a basic effect of his powers, it can be quite effective in combat. Touching an enemy begins absorbing their flesh at the point of combat. It takes only moments of grabbing a wrist for his fingers to reach bone. Best to pull away one's hand immediately.

Nature's Tax: a healing spell of sorts. This ability allows James to regenerate his flesh and organs as long as he has the organic material to replace what was lost. He cannot use this power if his brain or heart stop working, or if he loses consciousness.

Osseus Platemail: James generates a suit of armored plates made from bone. Of course it is not seamless to allow for movement, and is very similar to Knight's armor in many respects. The difference being to get out of it it must be reabsorbed. The gaps in the armor can be taken advantage of the same with a thin sword. This ability would use all of James's reserves if there is no other organic material around. It is strong enough to block musket fire, and maybe one canon ball without shattering.

Beast Form: inspired by a werewolf crew mate he once knew, James designed his own beast form using his powers of generation. It is a creature the size of a Clydesdale. This of course means it takes much more organic material than the Osseus armor. It is semi-bipedal, with massive claws and fangs. The piles of muscle it has can snap a mast in half if it charged at it. The bony spines on its back are pointed and sharp. Even it's senses are superb. The nose of a hounded, ears of a bat, and the thing even has sets of gills and lungs. The only thing it can't do is regenerate since so much energy is used in it's creation, James is left exhausted afterwards.

Beast Form Faceclaim

(All of James's abilities use mana in addition to the organic material cost)

[RoseKnightJason]

The Royal Navy

The Royal Navy is out of it's infancy and off to a good start on the war. At least, as far as the Court knows. In reality, they've only begun to make up for the losses they've taken in the last twenty years. For a long time pirates did as they pleased across the Atlantic, robbing any and every shipping vessel they spotted. Just as the Navy got smart to regular military escorts for high value merchants, the pirates became well armed enough to sink their ships with relative ease.

It took a lot of resources, and many men's lives to finally figure out how to reliably control their shipping lanes at sea. Now the British economy is improving, and they've struck a few victories outright against the enemy. This new class of officers seems intent on keeping it that way. They have emerged through sheer natural law as the most elite combatants capable of taking on even magic wielding enemies with only their wits and steel.

This rule has trickled down to their crew members, as only the strong carry on when supernatural powers invade the ship. Only the strong of mind face the powers of the devil without cracking, and slow their heart enough to swing their sword. The British Navy nowadays are masters of their craft, proving more and more formidable when raided by pirates. Their officers are masters of combat as well as strategy, and their captains are often in a class of their own regarding one natural skill or another. Sword play, most often.

Admiral Torrington

Name: John Norris Torrington
Age: 45
Occupation: Admiral of the Royal Navy
Height: 6'2"
Weight: 210lbs
Appearance:


Admiral Torrington is a man of 50, yet has kept in impeccable health all his life. A career at sea will do that to a man, what with all the sailing and hauling. Upon becoming captain of his own vessel he insisted upon investing a large portion of his own earnings into extra salted meats and dried fruits. Things that would keep at sea and keep up his men's strength while they hunted pirates. This means that his roundish figure is powerful, and unyielding. He has a barrel chest and hulking arms to match the strength of his faith.

Rarely does a grim expression leave his face. One wonders if the hard lines were carved by a lifelong military career, or if he was simply born with a darkened mood. One can easily tell his age by this and starch white hair. No one would be able to tell by his movements, however. He seems to be a creature perfectly adapted to war, an immovable object on a constantly rocking battlefield. One which never trips or falters at the crashes of the waves, nor the aiming of a pistol by a pirate.

Bio:

Torrington started his military career on land. At sixteen he fought in several skirmishes with the French, and eventually was recruited at an Officer's party by a member of the Naval Command. On recommendation from his commanding officer he made the switch, and by eighteen was a first mate to a fierce captain by the name of Reginald Hornblower. Perhaps it was his ability to roughhouse with the grown men of the crew, and win, or his well read wit. Few times did anyone find a flaw in Torrington's logic when discussing strategy.

So he was an indispensable soldier either way. Eventually as it always happens in war, Hornblower was struck down in the line of duty and John became a captain for the first time. Ten years after, he was a commodore at thirty. Something the others of his rank scoffed at when first suggested. His fleet's reputation for the least losses in the early days of the Pirate Revolution spoke for itself, however. Now, in the Kingdom's desperate regaining of ground, the King felt the Navy needed an Admiral of reputation and ability.

Natural Abilities:

As mentioned before, Torrington is incredibly strong. He once hoisted a small cannon and brought it around to the back of the ship. He ordered the rudder man to fire it several times at the small sloop which had been tailing them. He stood in place for each blast, and aimed at astonishingly well enough to sink the smaller vessel.

During combat, The Admiral is known to strap four blunderbuss to his belt and chest, and can quickly interchange each of them. When raided, he often positions himself in the middle of a firing squad, and uses these hefty shotguns for their cover while they reload.

In melee, he wields two hefty six pound cutlasses. They are custom made, each with three foot blades and handles large enough for a regular man to put two hands on. He most often sets up on his enemies with a series of chops which could fell an oak after a series. This is no berserker like tactic, but simply a proper application of force meant to break a person before they can come up with their own counter strategy.

Equipment: Two oversized cutlasses, four large Blunderbuss, two large ammo sacks hanging at the torso, one Spanish style metal breast plate; Not good for blocking firearms, very good at blocking melee weapons.

Magical Abilities: ABSOLUTELY NOT! How dare you sir?!

Commodore Briggs

Captain Luke Collingwood

[RoseKnightJason]

Reserved for GM characters

[Izurich]

Erzsébet the Blood Witch

ERZSÉBET

SANGUINEUS MALEFICARUM

Chronologically ambiguous, physically early teens | Female | 144cm (4'9") | 30kg (66lbs)

Theme

APPEARANCE:

Visual References

Profile

A crown of pale golden locks framing a youthful visage adorned by a pair of teal emeralds set on a petite and slender body, Erzsébet superficially projects the image of a young girl just past the eve of adolescence. However, the facade is merely skin-deep as interacting with her on any capacity will reveal the baleful witch lurking underneath the veil of maidenly innocence.

Alluding to the rumors of her ties to royalty, Erzsébet - or 'Elizabeth' when Anglicized - prefers to clad herself in fine dresses and apparel however they're obtained, looted from a harbor raid or forcefully stripped away from their previous wearer, it matters not. Due to the nature of her role within Captain Monroe's crew, these dresses are more often than not constantly soaked in blood, both fresh and dried. Tis' fine, she can always replace it after another raid.

BIOGRAPHY:

Erzsébet's past is one muddled in conflicting rumors, hearsay, and myths. Some say she's a demon masquerading as a child, others claimed she's the daughter of the infamous Voivode of Wallachia, Vlad "Dracula" Tepes, but the most prevalent theory is that she's none other than Erzsébet Báthori the Blood Countess herself. After all, between her shared name, bloodcurdling haemomancy, and apparent agelessness, the signs are all there. Regardless, the Blood Witch in question never quite confirms, nor denies any of these rumors, and the powers she possesses are indispensable enough for the crew to accept or at the very least tolerate her presence. Besides, with figures such as the Sea Witch sailing around, having one of her 'kind' on your side is more a blessing than a curse.

Speaking of the she-devils, the two witches seem to have history with one another. From Erzsébet's side, she appears to possess a sort of friendly rivalry with the dark-haired witch-captain. Peculiarly, the blonde often refers to Veronica as "that child" or "the upstart", suggesting that Beth is the senior of the two and once upon a time, she was also the more powerful. Regardless of the truth, the fact remains that as things stand, Veronica will overwhelm the shorter woman in a straight up witch-to-witch duel.

Erzsébet, being a witch, unsurprisingly has a rock bottom opinion of the Church(es); Anglican, Catholic, Orthodox, they're all self-righteous fools no better, nay, worse than the apostates they condemn. However, out of every members of the clergy out there, Beth has a seething hatred for one Bishop Gregor, an infamous knight of the Anglican Church. Merely mentioning his name would earn the speaker a death glare from the Blood Witch and to express support for the man would earn one a swift and extremely agonizing death via sudden exsanguination.

Rumors abound that Gregor was the one responsible for Erzsébet's fall from one of the most powerful witches of the known world to merely a blood mage serving under a young pirate captain. It was said she narrowly avoided the knight's divine judgment, but left crippled afterwards, a mere shadow of her former self. No matter, she'll soon regain her might and exterminate these so-called men of the cloth, down to the last priest.

As a person, though Erzsébet can rather convincingly put on the facade of a young girl she masquerades as, the figure behind the mask is a sadistic crone who ultimately serves no one but herself. She isn't fazed by death, nor torture, hell, she enjoys them. In contrast, Beth has enough pragmatic intelligence to know that wanton sadism is ill-advised and to achieve greater purposes, allies are necessary. Thus, the Blood Witch deigns herself to serve Captain Monroe and reserves her streaks of cruelty to those the crew deem as 'acceptable victims': hostile pirates, the royal navy, raid victims, etc.

NATURAL ABILITIES:

Erzsébet is well-versed in the study of the arcane. Though people may be able to cast spells, not all of these spellcasters possess the erudition required to know why magic functions the way it is; the inner workings of magic circuits, the flow of mana, and the patterns of ley lines, these are scholarly matters beyond the knowledge of most, including those who can otherwise cast spells by instinct or rudimentary knowledge.

Erzsébet is also quite knowledgable about the human anatomy. She knows what makes people tick from head to toe and she uses this expertise both to mend and break. As a result, she can fulfill the role of a doctor as well as a torturer, ...and sometimes both simultaneously.

She's a pretty good actress, able to put on various masks to fit the persona she's currently emulating. The blonde is perfectly aware of how she looks physically and has no qualms exploiting the bias for (or against) youthful innocence present in most people.

MAGICAL ABILITIES:

Magic Type: Haemomancy (Blood Magic)

Basic Effects: Erzsébet's specialty lies in the manipulation and utilization of blood as spellcasting reagent. She wields blood as a more traditional mage would wield mana. For Beth, blood is mana and mana is blood, it matters not from where the blood flows; herself, enemies, allies, or the environment, she can extend her arcane strings onto them and wield them as if they're her limbs.

For a magical discipline so narrowly focusing on a single essence, haemomancy is surprisingly quite versatile in its applications. The sanguineus maleficarum can use blood for offense, defense, and even support. It can cause bloodshed as well as heal them. As a catch, depriving a blood mage of the one reagent they almost exclusively use will leave them powerless.

Advanced Spells:

❖ Crimson Conjuration: Erzsébet's most versatile ability. She utilizes blood to construct various objects from blood spikes, a wall of hardened blood, and even a literal bloodhound. She must exert concentration to move and manipulate these blood-based constructs, even if they're otherwise shaped like a living creature such as the aforementioned bloodhound.
❖ Scarlet Surgeon: Practically the direct opposite of Captain Monroe's Touch of Entropy power. She staunches bleeding, stitch wounds close, and mends your body. No, the process does not look pretty at all, go to those clerical scum instead if you want one of those warm golden healing light.
❖ Excruciating Exsanguination: Erzsébet spins in place like a demented ballerina, grins madly, and cackles as she forcefully induces fatal hemorrhaging on multiple targets around her. When cast, a sanguine magic circle gradually expands outward from underneath her feet and anyone - friend, foe, bystanders, it cares not - touched by said circle will feel their blood being drained out until they have no more to drain.

It's functionally a hex-type spell and like all curses, it can be nullified or resisted. In this case, someone with enough physical endurance will be able to brute force through its effects. Some would call this spell a gross crime against nature, though she'd rather see it as... efficient. However, the technique is quite taxing on her reserves and she can only safely do so up to three times before needing to rest.
❖ Titian Thrall: If one believes murdering others by profuse internal and external bleeding is revolting, then they certainly will be pleasantly surprised that the Blood Witch has something even worse under her frilly sleeves. With her exsanguination spell, at the very least her victims will be granted a swift death, unlike the poor sod on the receiving end of this spell. Erzsébet manipulates a target's blood as figurative strings to directly control their physical actions much like a meat-puppet. The target is forced to watch as faculty over their own body is robbed from them, they'll be conscious as the sadistic puppetmistress compels them to kill their own friends and families, and they can only hope she'll grant them death once she's done with them, for truly, it'll be crueler to let them live after such an ordeal.

As a hex-type spell, a potential victim can attempt to resist succumbing under control, particularly those who are already familiar with regulating mana and spellcasting (e.g., mages, witches, etc.). Against these 'arcane-touched' targets, Erzsébet can at most attempt to briefly control a limited part of their body such as an arm or a leg as total domination is out of the question unless the recipient is somehow willing or already incapacitated.

EQUIPMENT:

❖ Several vials of blood for spellcasting
❖ A leather tome which doubles as both a spellbook and journal, enchanted to be waterproof

TRIVIA:

❖ Color Code: d62524
❖ Despite how cruel she may seem, Erzsébet isn't a true psychopath. She's capable of feeling empathy and affection for others, they're simply... buried under her hubris, pride, and bitter jadedness. Her past has taught her that the world preys on the weak and the strong rules, therefore she must be strong. Those who can't stand up for themselves simply mean they're weak and therefore prey.

[shylarah]

Shiara Cazarin

_{B A S I C S}

---

Name: Shiara Cazarin
Age: 19 (born in spring)
Height: 5'6"
Weight: ~110lbs
Occupation: cook/scout

_{A P P E A R A N C E}

---

Shiara is a slender young woman with deeply bronzed skin in the way of the Peledan islanders. Her hair is untamably curly, a problem she solves by tying it back most of the time, or occasionally putting it in lots of little braids. She has a round face; dark, gently tilted eyes; a wide, flat, and slightly upturned nose; high, thick brows; and full, expressive lips. She has an athletic build, with gentle curves in the right places.

She likes going barefoot, though usually she does wear either sandals or shoes of supple leather. She loves bright colors and patterns for her clothing. She has a variety of jewelry, mostly made of beads or shells. She'll sometimes braid such things into her hair, or add a bright flower behind her ear. One particular necklace she always wears, a simple leather thong with two pendants. One is long and thin, like a claw or a tooth. The other looks more like a large scale or shaped piece of abalone.

She always has one of her knives on her person, sometimes two or three depending on where she's going. While she knows how to fight with her fists, she's not particularly intimidating and a sharp blade does a lot to convince people to leave her alone if they give her too much trouble. Shiara often carries a small satchel either on a shoulder strap or belted at her hip. It's a good place to put a bit of money, and anything else she might need.

Shiara's speech carries a gentle Peledan accent imparted by her father and grandparents. She carries herself with confidence, and moves with more energetic athleticism than grace. This is not to say she's clumsy, but she's disposed to large gestures, her movements and stance saying just as much as her words.

_{P E R S O N A L I T Y}

---

Shiara started as a bright, cheerful girl. She loved watching the stars or playing in the waves. She enjoyed wandering the beach or the woods, and was eager to try new things. She was always rather independent, encouraged to be self-sufficient from a young age. The questionable acceptance of the townsfolk was never an issue in the mostly-Peledan part of the outskirts where she lived, and she never saw any reason to bother with people that didn't want her around. She took to her grandmother's teaching with solemn dedication, eager to prove herself worthy of her gift of magic, and the sort of respect she saw people giving Nisme. She absorbed stories and music with a wide-eyed eagerness, as if they could show her a glimpse of the world beyond her horizon. Shiara wasn't sure she wanted to be a bone woman despite her dedication to the training. She craved adventure, and there was always a driving curiosity in her constant questions on anything and everything.

Unfortunately such wide-eyed idealism doesn't last long in the real world. A raid by the Church's Witch Hunters on her town drove the dismal reality home for her, and resulted in the death of her mother and father. Now Shiara resents the Church passionately, and she's driven to find a better life for those with magic. Her respect is hard to earn, and only given to those who show themselves to be intelligent, able to look at the facts instead of trusting blindly in what "everyone knows", willing to back up their words with actions, and possessing a certain level of integrity.

She wants to travel, to see other countries and have real adventures. She wants to learn about other peoples, too, and about things where the answers the Church give her aren't ones she trusts. They have so much wrong about the Peledan people, after all. Who knows what they've screwed up beyond that? Above all, she wants to show all the world that they are as backwards about magic as they accuse the islanders of being in general. She'll be a hero like in the stories, maybe, or she'll find some brilliant use for her magic that helps everyone. Or maybe she'll just write songs and tell stories like her grandfather. But she's sure there's an adventure waiting for her just beyond the horizon.

_{H I S T O R Y}

---

Shiara's father came to mainland Australia as a teenager with his parents and elder sister in the wake of a volcano eruption that devastated their island home, along with a number of other refugees. His mother, Nisme, is a bone woman -- a spiritual leader among the Peledan tribes native to the eastern archipelago. The Peledan see necromancy not as a curse but as a highly-regarded skill, and it approaches divine blessing. The bone men and women work with the healers as medicine men; they work with the rare speakers of souls to placate restless ghosts; they are the ones sought for blessings and guidance, and to ease the passage of the dying. Nisme's husband Yuriah is a musician and a keeper of stories, and though their daughter returned to the islands they decided to stay with Zelias following his marriage. The Peledan are a highly communal group, and if their son and his wife would not join them on the islands, they would bring the community to the young couple.

Shiara's mother Rosalie lived in the coastal town where most of the Peledan refugees settled. She was studying to be an herbalist like her own mother, and her father worked as an assistant to the harbormaster. She and Zelais met during the worst of the difficult times that faced town and refugees, and married several years later. Shiara was born within a couple years into a warm and happy household that didn't care what the townsfolk thought of the mixed family.

As a toddler the child was much like any other. She was extremely curious, and loved stories and the sea. If other children gave her a hard time she shrugged it off, and played instead with the children of refugees-turned-citizens and the raven Ainel, who'd adopted her as his. Nisme recognized the girl's magic as soon as it started to manifest, and began lessons the moment they would be retained. Shiara learned of her rich island heritage from her father's side of the family, and while she didn't disdain the more structured life her mother encouraged, she was never very good at sitting still. There was always something to do, somewhere to explore or an adventure to find. Skirts and "proper" clothes were restrictive and got dirty or ripped. She did pick up bits of herbcraft from the instruction of mother and both grandmothers, but she heeded it only because it was her duty to learn in order to fulfill the responsibilities of her magic. She greatly preferred "playing" her grandfather's various flutes and whistles.

When Shiara was seven, Witch Hunters raided her town, killing both her parents and devastating the small islander community. Many decided to return home to Pelecola, including her grandparents, and they took Shiara and her two-year-old brother with them. It was Shiara's first ship voyage, and she loved the sway of the deck and the wind in her hair. It was partially this voyage and partly her grandfather's stories of adventure that prompted an adult Shiara to decide on a life of piracy. She knows killing is generally wrong, but the world's a mess and sometimes you just have to hoist your flag and take what you can.

_{A B I L I T I E S}

---

Shiara can play flute, ocarina, and lute. She's got a good singing voice, too, though most of the songs she knows are either Peledan or the sort of thing one might hear in a tavern.

She swims like a fish, and she loves the ocean. The river's okay, but it's not at all the same. She's pretty good at paddling a coracle about, and her aunt has taught her a bit about sails and how to manage them. She can't do more than the basics for a small sailboat alone, though. On a large ship, she knows the names for all the different masts and sails.

She knows how to cook and make tea.

Shiara knows the basics of first aid.

She is skilled with a knife, and always carries at least one on her person, usually more. She can use them hand-to-hand or thrown.

Shiara knows how to use a flintlock pistol or rifle, and how to care for either. She's a decent shot, but much prefers knives.

She has a little experience using a rapier, but again, knives are her go-to.

She is bilingual, speaking Peledan and English.

She knows how to sew and repair clothing. Her stitches aren't the most even, but they're perfectly serviceable.

_{M A G I C}

---

Magic Type: necromancy (bone magic)

Basic Effects: Shiara can speak with the dead, both human and animal. She serves as a focus point for spirits that have not yet crossed over, carrying them with her until they are ready to move on.

Advanced Spells:

Channeling: Shiara can make use of the powers of a single spirit to help her with what she's doing. Currently she carries with her a thief named Senki and a rapier-wielding pirate named Rokkal. She can channel animals too, but it's more difficult and gives her less of an advantage.

Necromantic Golems: Shiara can fashion golems (generally one to two feet in height) and invest them with an independent spirit. Alternatively she can use spirit fragments and her own magic to animate a golem, but this requires her full concentration. The former sort of golem moves at roughly the same speed as the spirit animating it did in life, and in the same manner. It hits a bit less hard than the spirit did in life, due to the limitations of materials, but Shiara has found that knives make great weapons for her golems. A bludgeoning weapon is the best way to destroy them.

Raising the Dead: Generally Shiara does not raise the dead. It is a delicate process, and may only be done with the dead creature's permission -- at least ethically. That's not to say she can't, just that she normally won't.

_{E Q U I P M E N T}

---

Shiara has several knives that she carries on her person.

She has jewelry-making tools, as well as a small bag of string, beads, and shells.

She has a small first aid kit.

She has a sewing kit.

She carries materials for basic golem-crafting -- pieces of clay and obsidian, as well as a collection of small bones.

_{O T H E R}

---

Ainel, Shiara's companion raven, is often found perched on her shoulder or flying overhead. He is smart enough to talk, as are most of the ravens from Pelecola. He is not a pet in any way: Ainel comes and goes as he pleases, and his girl has no authority with which to tell him to do things (not that she doesn't try). It's simply that he chooses to stay with her, like a small feathered guardian.

[imia]

Iava Mehta

Iava Mehta

"The weak die. The strong survive. These are the rules of life."

26 | Female | 182cm (6'0") | 82kg (181 lbs) | Mercenary / Deckhand

Theme

APPEARANCE:

Visual References

Iava is a woman shaped to be a warrior. The sun has shaped her skin into a golden brown. Her hair, a dense and fierce mane of black, floats down her back in waves. She dresses in what she needs to, and a situation where she believes she doesn't need her armor is rare. She dons fragments; a cuirass, vambraces, pauldrons and faulds made of a hardened leather. Unique are her gauntlets, a deep red painted over a steel canvas of swirling patterns. She never wears anything grander than a tunic and trousers underneath.

PERSONALITY:

To Iava, there are three kinds of people. Those who are her equals, those who she is to protect, and those who she is to slay. She cooperates with her equals, protects who she must, and slays when it's time to protect. There was once a time where her equals were outlaws, she protected them because they were her family, and slayed innocents because it would protect her family's future. She was only able to do so because she'd been playing by the rules.

She grounded herself in the rules, taught to her by the bandits, and lived by them. It helped her cope with the actions she'd been forced to do, the countless raids she'd never asked to undertake. If she killed someone, they were weak, so they would have died anyways. Family comes first. Everyone else is the enemy, only we can be trusted. Everyone is a thief and killer - better to be the one who steals and kills first. It was easier for her to drown herself in these lies when it was necessary for survival.

Kusa's passing changed everything. The newfound freedom from her old life was impossible to adjust to; especially when it feels as if it's lurking just around the corner, ready to take Iava back into it's clutches once again. She can't act and think like she used to, and it doesn't matter how hard she tries. It's different when the thoughts bounce back on her, and they are hers alone to face. When the fear and need for survival becomes replaced with guilt that compounds in on itself until she can't breathe. If everything were so set in stone, what did that make of her brother? He fought and was the weaker, so he died. But was the one who runs truly the strong one? You were strong enough to survive. But her strength came from him. Was she truly the strong one? Now, she grows sick of herself.

Iava knows the power and skills she has better than anyone else. It's been tested too many times in the past for her to doubt it when it counts, even in spite of her past failure. She believes that the only way to atone for what she's done is to use her power to protect others, and who is she protecting by second-guessing her strength? That being said, she would never let herself be controlled ever again. She's a cautious judge of character. Though her devotion is slow to start, once it's burning there's no brighter flame around.

Iava is... sensitive to the world, to say the least. There are many things which she'd never experienced during the time with the bandits. On top of that, each emotion and thought she has is almost brand new. Such things never lingered before as they do now. Much of what life has to offer is foreign to her yet. The prospect of others witnessing this sensitivity, this weakness, terrifies her. In response to fear, she immerses herself in the rules once more.

BIOGRAPHY:

bio

Iava hails from a spiritual people who'd settled along the southwestern coast of India. Iava was born as a twin, her brother being named Kusa. her and her twin's souls were connected at birth. her people called this a soul tie - and sure enough, Iava would always be met with a red string wrapped around the base of her finger. and whenever she would follow it, it always lead her back to her brother. through this tie, her and her brother shared everything. every sense, every thought, and not just their active minds but down to their memories. in her household the shelves were full of ancient texts and manuscripts. She remembers the colorful rangolis, carefully placed throughout the rooms of her stomping grounds when it was time for festivals. She remembers the personal altar which laid in her parents' room, the heartwarming light of the diya, and the tikka it housed - it'd been passed through her mother's family for more generations than she could've counted.

She was five, she remembers, when the bandit camp attacked her village. they pillaged senselessly, running into homes to take what they want and kill anyone who resisted, yet they spared her and her brother. as to why? it's simple; children are easy to control. it was part of the camp's practice to take the children and raise them as part of the camp. as part of the camp, the children were required to participate in an indoctrination ritual. an introduction to the rules of life.

The first rule? "The weak die, and the strong survive."

Each "batch," as she remembers them putting it, faces off in a series of one on one battles to the death. a pair is chosen. The winner lives, and is graced with the ability to live among the camp. Then they pick another pair at random.

She and her brother were lucky - the girls fought the girls, and the boys fought the boys. Their survival was due in part to their unique abilities. While fighting, Iava had an outside perspective giving her knowledge about her opponent and the situation that she didn't have to think about. The two had also been the most resilient of the batch. When they made it through the culling with but a few scratches, it didn't take long for them to be put to work.

Her and her brother would be raised with the express purpose of killing, to be the camp's strongest warriors. They soon provided an alternate source of income for the camp. while the bandits would always migrate from camp to camp (most often setting up shop in the remains of their latest & greatest triumph), they would send certain people out to the largest cities nearby to procure information on their general surroundings. what caught the eyes of their leaders had been bounties set on criminals, pirates, and the like. The twins were eighteen when they were sent on their first bounty mission of many, and there were few who put up resistance once found - if the two couldn't find their target in time, they would just steal from some settlement on the way back. It was for the family, so it were as easy as breathing.

What little their parents were able to teach them became the foundation of their magic. Her mother taught Iava spells to protect her brother, while her father taught Kusa spells to protect Iava from anyone else. Their specializations developed, bouncing off eachother in a way that made them nigh unstoppable in combat.

When power becomes so great it brings fear along with it. Iava and Kusa would never have rebelled. The rules the bandits bestowed upon them were their lifeline, the reason they could exist despite the atrocities they committed. Without them the two couldn't function. But their leaders were still scared - the twins could take control whenever they wanted in their eyes, with the strength they had. And so just as quickly as they had created their problem, the bandits set out to destroy it.

She still wonders how she never saw it coming.

They were out on a mission too far from the camp for comfort, apparently scouting out the area for a raid. They didn't even know what they were really looking for out here. Something about the rivers. To look at the rivers. Which inevitably looked like rivers, and there'd been no settlements in direct proximity of the rivers - only ones far off, which the two had found in part due to Iava's refusal that they'd come all the way out here just to come back with nothing. They'd not gotten far on their way back to the camp before it found them.

Her training betrayed her; she'd been caught off-guard, only catching wind of the danger through the sound of something whistling in the air towards her. She dodged on pure instinct, and it saved her life. Some appendage, perhaps some kind of tentacle, grotesque in nature, ripped through the tree trunk that she had been about to step around.

She'd seen monsters before, sure. But this one froze her. The top half looks somewhat human, but it's arms quickly betray it with their length; long, dragging across the leaves blanketing the forest's floor. The bottom half is that of a horse, quadrupedal, the front legs ending in talons. And it's skull...

Iava dives to the side at the sound of an arm lashing through the air. The claws caught at her leg, lingering, and she knew it'd have cut deep had Kusa not been at her side. She hisses out pain through her teeth, stumbles, and keeps running.

Running when she'd never wanted to fight more in her life. But whenever she so much as thought about putting a halt in her step, it was blown away by a shot of panic and the intense desire - no, the need - to run. Each time she looked back, every time she saw him, standing strong, waiting for her help, it was thrown away. Why?

Please, just listen to me. Run.

She ducked through the bushes and went westward, towards the rivers and the village which stayed across from it. She crossed, leaping for her life, and landed in time to fall to a slash at her leg. Running deep, slow, purposeful. She'd looked to see a deep cut running along her knee, though her body dropping and mind flaring no sensations but pain told her otherwise.

Run.

There was a flash along her throat that lead to an explosion, a brief roar in agony. Waves of grief and power collected, images of people and places she hadn't seen in years shone brighter than the sun. And then came a burst of colors - a sensation that spread from her fingertips to the depths of her soul. It tingled at first, then evolved into a tidal wave of energy crashing through her body, filling it through with a pulsating warmth.

And then there was nothing.

For the first time in her life, Iava felt true silence. For the first time in her life, she thought and it went nowhere. Her words reverberated endlessly in her own mind, what now was only a void. She laid there along the forest bed, feeling talons and hooves whoop the ground in tandem with her own heart. Soon enough it'd been just her own heart which she felt.

Run, she heard, yet it was but a mere imitation. It echoed in on itself and then it were nothing.

She'd kept moving, found the villages, and kept moving after that. Family came first - she was to fulfill her brother's dying wish, or die herself. There was no other option. With her true family dead there'd been no reason for her to try going back to the life she once lived. The least she could do was honor her brother and run from it.

When she found her next settlement she was welcomed, for once, as a humble traveler rather than a violent invader. She asked them for directions to the nearest city and they humbly obliged. After getting to the nearest city, she made moves to find the fastest way off the continent. This lead to her first foray in piracy at the age of twenty.

Though she was not as much of a pirate as she was a mercenary, she'd been treated as a member of the crew all the same. It was on this ship where she was taught how to down a full calabash in less than a breath, where she'd been taught to speak English, to carefully stow away provisions, to lower the sails. Though those she were with held no emphasis on it, she'd never felt more like part of a family.

It was also on this ship where she learned what happened to her magic after her brother's passing. The red string which tied her to her brother had remained on her finger, yet it strayed for but a few inches before meeting its end. She came to the ship's captain one night for a drink, and approached him with a question. A hypothesis. He'd been wary at first, though his cooperation was out of respect for the dedication she'd shown towards the crew.

Iava held his hand and felt the energy from deep within her. It surged up and out, and she could see it - the red string, suddenly glowing before growing in length and moving towards her captain's finger. It wrapped around it several times and pulled, squeezing the bloodflow from it, yet his hand did not move. His eyes were bright and gaze steadfastly focused on Iava's own. There was trust.

After the tie had been made, Iava truly felt free. It was as if her mana reserves had suddenly unlocked themselves, even more mana than she'd ever known had flowed effortlessly through her body. She let go of her captain's hand and saw it. The red string. Tied to another, once more, as it had been for so long before. She learned then that, although her birth tie was no more, she could create (and sever) the same sort of tie with other people.

When their voyage came to an end in England, she was on the edge of twenty-two. The crew offered to let her stay and she rejected it. It'd been several factors behind her decision, but them returning to Asia was the one true dealbreaker. Family first; she was to run and never look back. Her years until now have been spent strong-arming her way into various odd jobs that require her muscle, mostly in the form of security for wealthy merchants. It's resulted in her floating around the cities of the country, no true aim or goal coming to her except survival.

On this night, she's floated her way back into the comforting arms of grog and mead, with no telling where her path leads her to next.

NATURAL ABILITIES:

She has skills for combat, unarmed and otherwise. Being bred as a warrior for fifteen years, give or take, will do that to you. Her intuition in combat is also one of a kind; growing up with her birth tie resulted in her battle experience being double of what it should've been. What her brother experienced, she did as well, what he learned she did, and the same the other way around. Fifteen years more or less becomes thirty. It depends on how you look at it.

Her tolerance for pain is unnaturally high.

Iava's movements are almost beautifully efficient. These skills don't just end on the battlefield, though. She's an excellent dancer if you get her to do it.

The way she manages to burn a kitchen down is almost magical. If you were to trust her with cutting onions, you already failed. It's over.

She uses a sword. Her brother also used a similar sword. They both fought for years with these swords. She's a deadly swordswoman, dammit.

Iava's somewhat of a professional drinker. Test her.

MAGICAL ABILITIES:

Magic Type: Kindred Link (Soul Magic)

Basic Effects: She manifests an arcane connection between her and someone else. She can’t force it upon something; the other party would have to reciprocate and allow the connection to happen in the first place. The other party must also have a soul for her to bond her own to. However, once a bond is made, only she can break it. This bond takes the form of a red string that ties itself to a middle finger of the two parties. The string itself can only be seen by her or an extremely adept mage vastly familiar with such arts. Mana flows back and forth between the souls of both parties. Iava's partner cannot stop their mana from flowing into the connection while it's active. Both parties have the ability to "give" and "request" mana, but they cannot "take."

Without a bond active, Iava has no way of accessing her own mana for use. With it active, Iava possesses two humans' worth of mana.

The bond can share everything from senses, perceptions, physical abilities, emotions, thoughts, and even memories between two parties. For instance, if someone knows how to do a specific motion that Iava doesn’t know herself, the knowledge required to do so can be shared and learned through the connection. The extent of what is being shared depends on each party. As an example, someone could choose to only share the memories they have up until their fifth birthday. But it's not always a concrete choice - when the bond is made, both parties already have a predetermined idea of what they want to share. It’s similar to a conversation; you aren’t just going to tell someone all your traumatic experiences, your deepest darkest secrets & greatest fears for no reason. Thus, those memories that don’t want to be shared, and the thoughts and emotions associated with them are essentially “locked away,” to the point where Iava herself has no idea they exists.

Although the two share pretty much everything, only magic of Iava's kind will inherently impact both parties. i.e. James turning into a beast won't turn her into a beast.

The more two parties share with eachother, the more powerful their bond is and thus the two become. This is the main limit of the power; if a connection is created and both parties aren’t cooperative, it's useless at best and detrimental at worst. At the base level (the connection exists, that's it), Iava can cast all of her spells, but the power of each is limited. There are milestones along the way, such as sharing senses & perceptions, They can be seen as goals to strive for in a connection since they enhance the powers of the bond.

Iava herself is another limiting factor. There is much she won’t share; she's not very fond of the idea of giving any real part of herself up to other people. Much of the way she maneuvers the bond revolves around her desire to stay in control of it.

Advanced Spells:

+ Selfless: Iava channels her mana into the string to influence the bond. While she maintains this focus, she will take damage for the other party. Not only will they have increased pain resistance, but they will effectively be harder to hurt. It’s as if one was trying to inflict pain on two people in one. This spell takes concentration to keep active, but she can “flick” it on in time if she needs to. For effective use, she’d have to be standing still in a safe area. The same amount of damage reduction can be achieved by having a "complete" bond in the first place - if she were to activate this spell then, the other party would take zero damage and she would instead receive all of it, for better or for worse.
+ Selfish: Iava channels her mana into the string, then back from the string into herself. Her current partner receives no mana from her. She uses her mana to resonate with her own soul, thus enhancing her body; she gains increased strength in all her muscles which leads to more power, endurance, speed, etc. than a human would be able to produce alone. However, she's effectively severing the connection on her end, thus it would continue to hold for no more than 30 seconds. This can be counteracted by the other party feeding their own mana into the connection. The cost is them being continuously drained at exhaustive levels. It should go without saying that after usage of this spell (with no outward assistance), she's out of commission. Nearly comatose, even.
+ Helping Hand: Iava can make conjure a portal, its' destination being within a set radius of her partner. This radius depends on the strength of the connection: if the connection barely exists, then it's within a couple feet of them. She can use this spell to get into the radius, but can't escape it afterwards. Her partner can travel through it as well.
+ Your Turn: Iava sends her mana through the string, using it to resonate with her partner's soul rather than her own. The spell then gives the other party the same effects as she bestows upon herself with "Selfish." Unlike "Selfish," this spell does not sever the bond. It lasts until she runs out of mana (thus ending the bond) or otherwise stops.

EQUIPMENT:

+ Iava wields a double-edged straight sword (khanda) named Omen. It's housed within a sizable steel scabbard, with the weight making it suitable for striking.
+ An oil stone, for sharpening.
+ A soft cloth, for polishing.

TRIVIA:

+ Color Code: cfb5c3
+ Iava has an intense soft spot for cats.
+ Iava ties her hair up into a ponytail. When things are calm, she allows it to hang freely.