The Guardians of Dara (Sheets)

[HeySeuss]

<OOC>
<Chat>

A certain famous city. ;)
Instructions

- Post your character sheet here using the template provided below.
- Please do not post anything else here, all questions and comments should go to the OOC thread.

Character Sheet (Template Here)
Name:
Age:
Gender:
Race:
Physical Description:

It's probably best to actually describe the character if you are going to rely on a picture, or you can
do without the picture if you like, but definitely describe.

Skillset:

Talents one has either naturally or through education or training of some sort.

Far Ancestry:

Information on your character's forebears, bloodline and history that they might only be partially aware of or not aware of at all.

Character History:

Explain how your character got there -- no 'the story will come out in RP' lines, please -- I want a feel for where your character is coming from. Feel free to work up names and places and so forth. Be sure to mention feuds and debts and the such.

Psychological Profile:

An idea of how the character thinks and so forth; should be linked to the history. Most importantly, how did they react to the confrontation with Pykas and Cyrabassis -- because Cyrabassis was wielding magic (not heavy stuff, but way more than most have ever seen or would believe) and Pykas was possessed with something not of the world. They barely survived by the skin of their teeth. So the characters have baggage from that fight.

Equipment:

The character's equipment. Any magical items should be dormant, but maybe a character has one for some reason, such as a memento or a good luck charm or family heirloom.

Titles/Holdings/Power Base:

What sort of position the character occupies in the city, whether it is a business or a magistrate's position or similar. This should include prominent servants and properties as well as followers. For example, if a character were a high priest, a description of the temple and its influences within the city/its worshipers would be nice.

Relationships

The character's relations with the other characters.

[HeySeuss]

Character Sheet
Name: Kanros the Raven
Age: 43
Gender: Male
Race: Human
Physical Description:

His hair, dark and shaggy, is worn long and stubbornly resistant of ever being neatened, except that he has a tendency to wear it pulled back in a severe fashion to reveal a high forehead and a long-ish jaw. He has a straight nose and deep-set blue eyes, which, along with the pale skin, mark him as an outlander. The man himself is large and well-made, his physical shape his pride and joy. He wears a lot of wealth on his arms, fingers, and belt buckle, and around his neck, feeling, as a sellsword often does, that it is best to carry the wealth on one's person as the most simple but effective security system devised – a thief looks for easier pickings and a robber has to contend with the man's swordarm. He has surprisingly few scars for a man in his line of work -- and that is something of a statement for those who use their eyes to see. He has kept his physical condition, though he has to work at it more and more.

Skillset:

A swordsman, a former pirate, gladiator and leader of men; despite his barbaric ancestry, he is a cunning strategist with a strong interest in masonry-- as a child, he learned from the thralls that did the masonry for the local lord. He can tie a knot and weave a rope if he wishes, though it's been a long time since he's had to. In matters of violence, he is an authority, from how to fight a single man to how to recruit, provisionm, train, organize and lead men in the field. Siegecraft is something he has had the time and leisure to study and practice -- he doesn't always show his mind off, because he likes to hide behind the impression of a barbarian, but he is a sharp negotiator.

Far Ancestry:

In the dim, distant past, a spirit of the seas, of storm and wave wooed the daughter of a thane, but her jealous betrothed found out about this budding romance and threw the girl from a cliff into the cold, grey waters. From this union sprung a daughter as dark and furious as the stormclouds, whose eyes were as gray as the waves of the northern seas who became a notorious raider and pillager of the lands her mother's betrothed once held, and it is said that when the Lord would not take the field against this daughter that he was cursed to the form of a weasel. This weasel was pandered to as if he remained the Lord of the land, and yet people laughed and his rivals closed in to tear apart his lands among themselves.

The career of Brynja Stormurdottir, sorceress, thief and pirate, was long and varied; the myth has it that she took a prince hostage for ransom, but loved him and bore his bastard despite this. In the years to follow, this young man, Brynjar Svartson, grew to adulthood and became as renowned as his mother, though perhaps not quite as soft a touch. Ambition burned darkly in his bastard breast and when his mother passed on, he sailed forth to pillage the lands of his father, untouched since the days of his mother's liasons with their lord. He slew his own father in battle and destroyed his half-siblings. The gods struck down Brynjar Svartson for his monstrous crime, though they took mercy upon his infant son and stole him away to be raised by the grieving widow of one of his half-brothers...

Character History:

The son of a passing sailor and the daughter of a fisherman, a netweaver and ropemaker by trade. For a few glorious summers she was darkly beautiful, then she became gray and used, bowed by the contempt of the village's moralists, the drunken abuse of her husband and the cares of the world. He never knew his father, of course, but he knew his stepfather all too well.

He was born to a married woman, the daughter of fishermen who married another fisherman only reluctantly...he was the result of a passing hunter and sailor aboard a longship sailing down the coast to trade seal furs where they'd fetch a good price. His father was never to be seen again, but he left his reminder of the visit. Kanros was raised in an abusive household, with a father that liked to take it out on him and his mother; he fell in the water one day and turned to ice in the winter, and while he greeted the news cheerfully, the rest of the village thought he'd done the man in. His bastardy meant that no fishermen would take him as an apprentice, though he knew ropes, and he instead labored as a mason and a builder with thralls, learning something of how stone is cut and wood is hewn from these men. He grew strong, and learned how to fight with the young men of the village, the ones that presumed to teach him his place.

His mother died after she no longer had the will to live, when her son was old enough and strong enough to feed himself; her passing was greeted with little comment from the rest of the village, who made her a pariah through a combination of her infidelity as a young woman and her marriage to a loutish drunkard.

He left his village whilst still a lad when a passing ship came through bound for southern lands. Of course, it was a pillager and a pirate, and its crew corsairs. He was big but fast, strong and unrelenting, and, of course, very angry; thus began a career of varied fighting for pay, raiding and piracy at various times. Eventually, he found himself in a falling out with others of the crew over shares, and the dispute turned bloody as he was intent on taking the share he considered his; when the killing was over, he was left on his own in the city of Baruk...where he was lured in with drink and the flesh of a woman and captured when he was vulnerable. He was sold on the block as a gladiator.

Despite the success and opulence of his life as a slave gladiator, he wanted his freedom. He managed to break free of his captivity, in a bloody fashion, during travel between cities and found his way to Dara, where there were no slaves. After a few months of minor adventures with the group he fell in with, they found themselves fighting for Dara against King Pykas of Selander and his many soldiers. Then, of course, they raided on Melazus, hoping to end the Sorceror's fell influence over the King. That story, is of course, well known.

After the encounter with Pykas and Cyrabassis in Melazus, he found his calling as a sellsword under the command of the mercenary captain Jalal, the Prince of Killers, and became a favored right hand man to him -- and eventually, as Jalal became older and Kanros matured, his equal partner, using the wealth plundered from Melazus as his stake. As the years passed, it became apparent that Jalal would have no son, and that Kanros was being groomed to take the fiefdom of the old man, including the hand of his daughter, Amira, in marriage. It was a strange sort of mating, but Jalal was the son of a desert nomad, and Kanros the bastard of a barbarian people -- and in perhaps, they saw things similarly.

The old Prince of Killers passed on, but by then Kanros, wealthy in his own right, was the most influential mercenary in the city. His wife, regrettably, died in childbirth.

Psychological Profile:

Kanros has a sullen aspect betimes, but is a man of flashes of dark humor and barbaric gaiety in the face of danger. He drinks deeply from life, knowing that it may end abruptly and harshly some day without being forseen. That fatalism drives his lust for life. Since seeing the magic of Cyrabassis in Melazus, he has had an inordinate fear of it and takes superstitious measures against things, though he knows little of magic -- it is considered a quirk of his that he will pay lavishly for icons and exorcisms, blessings and curse removal. He enjoys his drink and his wenches, but he brooks little insult to his person -- there have been some that thought the big man might seem an easy one to dance around, only to find that the conditioning of the fighting pits of Baruk remains -- he is deceptively fast. He is surprisingly sharp in commercial matters, though he finds mercantilism for its own sake boring -- his commerce involves swords and fighting men, and he likes it that way.

In terms of how he makes decisions, he is a pragmatist that leans toward the amoral -- he has a bit of a distaste for the moral hand-wringing some people do; he prefers to do what has to be done. He is less concerned about methods than results. He does not believe in fighting fair, because fair is an abstraction, but he also has a distaste for overly elaborate plots or things that he considers indecent, like poison and other dark arts. If he wants a man dead, he'll do it with a knife, not with some damned powder.

It's best not to mistake Kanros' interest in Dara as a concern for the welfare of its people out of moral reasons -- he tends to think the Daran nobility are effete and too long decadent and 'civilized' and that many of the citizens are too weak to properly protect themselves -- a very barbaric attitude. He comes from a place where all men have steel and fight to defend their villages, and the cities still bemuse him. At the same time, he's carved out a niche as a sometime protector, albeit a very self interested one. The plight of the suffering don't move him as much as the opportunity for his own selfish reasons. Luckily, he can be dragged into trouble for love of action and a fight.

Equipment:

Vindurfang -- a sword his mother had and told tales of, though it is merely a sword. It is a good sword, with runes, two edges and very fine steel, so he's managed to retain it all through the years.
Armor as he wants. Clothing as he sees fit. Typically, the clothing is silk, but he leaves the arms bare for a variety of reasons. He likes bracers and torc bracelets, thick accessories.

In battle, he goes with a lamellar scale hauberk that is surprisingly light (because he is strong) and a good helmet with a plate over the eyes and nose to help protect from a slash to the eyes in a fight. He's not much for shields, but he's also highly pragmatic in these situations. He thinks of mobility as better than any shield, which is a barbarian's way of thinking about a fight.

Titles/Holdings/Power Base:

Kanros takes residence in Shield Hall, built from the stones of ruins on the eastern side of Dara, facing the Great Spice Road. When Dara sought to rebuild its moldering defenses, Kanros and Jalal volunteered their expertise and some investment on the part of the fortifications around the city, which means that Shield Hall is built into the city's defenses; it is indeed defensible, though Kanros keeps enough men to keep watch and staff the place as servants, rather than keep a standing army of sellswords within the walls (expensive.) The place is well set up to host a large number of men, with a large hall in the center for feasting.

He has the ability to recruit sellswords -- it depends on the time and place, but Kanros and Jalal have spent decades building the trust and reputation that Kanros now uses to his advantage. He is for sale -- there is no doubt about that -- but he is loyal to Dara. His activities as a mercenary captain are often questionable, as he happily practices a type of warfare that involves looting and pillaging, raiding commerce and otherwise eroding other competitor cities and their ability to guard their roads and caravans. In a sense, Kanros guarantees Dara's caravans -- he won't raid the Great Spice Road, after all. He has allies who are invested in the prosperity of that route; he helps secure the Great Spice Road and raids the others. Some look down on these depredations and the more pragmatic appreciate that Kanros is carrying out a policy that Dara's more reputable notables can't readily admit to even as they desire it -- he undermines the competition.

In diplomacy, Kanros is considered a good choice of emissary when a certain sort of message needs to be sent. He is affable enough, but he is dangerous and has a reputation -- Dara's Guardians would request his services as such when it came time to deliver a veiled threat of force to come, and sometimes it was heeded. And if it wasn't, they would hire him to captain a significant portion of their forces in the field. When Dara wants to indirectly support another city or faction without overtly aligning itself, it cuts a deal with Kanros, who fields a mercenary force that, coincidentally, advances the interests of Dara. Kanros has made himself wealthy off this ambiguity.

Relationships

Rickas - Kanros honestly liked Rickas better when he was a thief rather than a retired thief that plays the politics game, though he can appreciate the cynicism with which he plays it. They're both mercenaries in a sense, but Kanros sometimes wonders if Rickas' house of cards will ever come tumbling down or not. He regards tracks Rickas' movements, neither friend nor foe necessarily -- there have been times when Rickas has worked the other side of Kanros.

Ongar - Ongar is an old stalwart, but he's getting old and he's drinking; that's fair, he's earned it. The old dwarf also is a part of network of armorers and blacksmith that keep Kanros supplied, so he has an active and current longstanding business with the graybeard. Sometimes, Ongar's politics put Kanros in a strange position because Kanros' employers tend to be the aristocracy of the city, but Kanros manages to keep himself clear of the actual disputes -- conspicuously so. It may well be part of an agreement between the two that Kanros does not police the city -- when an aristocrat employer is silly enough to ask, Kanros points out that mercenaries make much of their profit off the spoils of war, and inquires how much looting they will be permitted. The subject is usually dropped at that point. On the other hand, he isn't sure that Ongar will be able to function. A brave man, a skilled man, but also a drunk one.

Resalenna Gantar - Resa was a companion, but she went and married that clod; Melazus surely shook them all, but Kanros would have rather died than be domesticated in such a fashion. Of course, she was born here, and perhaps adventuring was a brief turn of adolescence before entering the adult life expected of Daran aristocracy, but Kanros would have no part. Even though Kanros dabbled in marriage, he never settled in fear of what he might be like as a father. Still, better her than some other Daran native, but he wonders if she has the stomach for the more bloody machinations of rulership as he's seen them.

Seeker Reeds - Kanros and Seeker have similar backgrounds, though Kanros has little taste for herbalism and the subtler solutions of an assassin -- he prefers to work with a knife or maybe strangle someone with his hands or arms. He'd be a hypocrite to admit there is much difference in what they do beyond methods and so Kanros doesn't bother to hide the association, though it's hardly ever professional. Some Darans that association against him in oratory, but Kanros shrugs that off -- a friend is a friend, and he also found that the Darans tend to be overly hysterical in their protestations, particularly when they are being the rankest sort of hypocrites. All the same, Seeker has strained Kanros' patience when, once or twice, there's been a sudden death among employers or of an employer and a profitable venture fell apart. Kanros didn't have proof, but he certainly had suspicions.

Devon Cowen - A blood brother, and Kanros is often conducting meetings in his establishment, seeing as it is a meeting place of business men, and Kanros is a businessman after all.

[Byrd Man]

Character Sheet

Name: Rickas Bannon

Age: 48

Gender: Male

Race: Human

Physical Description:

Rickas has short brown hair dotted with gray streaks that's kept groomed and combed. He's of medium height, but of pudgy build with a good sized paunch that's developed since his retirement from adventuring. The extra weight has given him a slight double chin and chubby cheeks. A long, jagged scar on his left cheek is a memento of his old adventuring group's run in with Pykas. Rickas will not fail to use the scar as political leverage to prove to whoever he is talking to that he has and will do what is necessary to help people in need. He has brown eyes and a partially upturned nose with a small cleft in his chin. While not wearing any particular form of jewelry, he does wear the finest fabrics and clothes befitting a man of his means. A dazzling orator, Rickas has a deep voice that carries well in crowds and has a malleable quality that can help him sound like a man of the commoners or the most elite of the blue bloods depending on where he is.

Skillset:

A former rogue Rickas was never a master thief, but he was an expert actor and orator. His elocution skills and acting made him into a top notch confidence man who could sway nearly anyone into giving him anything. RIckas ability to debate with cold reason and fiery passion equally well has him a highly sought after advocate. As a fighter he was less than effective, preferring to operate from long range with a bow and arrow. He was always proficient with the bow and crossbow, though those skills have diminished. His years as an advocate has also given him an expert knowledge of the laws and customs of Dara.

Far Ancestry:

In their homeland the Bannons are known for their idealistic nature and lofty dreams. The Bannons also, however, lack practicality and common sense. Yorma Bannon, Rickas' grandfather, went bankrupt trying to turn a small farm with poor soil into a thriving plantation. Before that he tried his hand at being a merchant, only to have his partner embezzle all their money and flee. The old man died penniless in the house of his son, Synbal, Rickas' father. Synbal Bannon was a charming and intelligent man who fancied himself as a merchant and politician. Coming from the lands of freemen and representatives, Synbal was able to become one of a small handful of local leaders that represented his area to the nation's parliament. Synbal proved to be an idealistic and crusading representative who fought for the people who had elected him as well as the poor and downtrodden. He spoke for the people no matter how much trouble it caused him. His lack of compromise or give with the old money of the nation led to his exile from office. He threw himself into his business interest by becoming attempting to become a shipping magnate. Placing all his money on three small ships, he was wiped out financially when pirates and storms destroyed all three ships a year into his business. He never became rich or powerful like had desired.

On the flipside the Morgun family, the family of Rickas' mother, were known for being shrewdly pragmatic and gifted in matters of business and politics. They were known to be tough, fair, and able to read men like open books. Magdar Morgun, Rickas' great grandfather was a long-serving member of the national parliament and a successful farmer. His uncle Belkas Morgun was a priest who spellbound followers with his passionate rhetoric. Sanol Morgun, Rickas' grandfather, was an able businessman who didn't want his daughter marrying Synbal Bannon, but at the time the young man's prospects were so high he allowed it.

Character History:

Rickas was born during the last few years of his father's term as a member of parliament. One of his earliest memories was going to the capital and seeing his father debate and attack the nobility for their lack of understanding and compassion for the poor. When Synbal was run out of office and then lost all his money, times were hard on the Bannon house. Rickas and his four brothers and sisters went days without eating while their father roamed around the country looking for work and their mother gave up on trying to keep a clean and neat house. Their mother soon turned to the bottle and became a drunk. Thirteen years old and sick of being hungry and dirty, Rickas left home and never looked back. He went back to the capital and became a street urchin and low level pickpocket. Two years into stealing change he was caught by a man who was a member of the local thieves guild. Seeing a spark in the boy, the took him in and showed him the potential of the long con. Rickas learned under his tutelage for many years, becoming an expert confidence man. Abiding by his master's rules, they never robbed from anyone but the upper crust. The people who could afford it. Their partnership came to an end when the capital guards learned of one of their cons. Rickas' master was captured and executed while Rickas fled the city and the country, heading to Dara.

It was in Dara that he met a group of adventurers. While they all provided something, Rickas acted as their mouthpiece. He used his conning skills to talk them out of more than a few sticky situations. He was in it for the money until the people of Dara needed the group's help. Against his better judgement, he went with his friends on the raid into Cyrabassis' lair. In the fight, Rickas was scarred across the face by a broadsword. After the defeat of Pykas, the group disbanded and went their separate ways. Rickas found his calling as a legal advocate. Those skills that he had used to con the wealthy also worked to convince a magistrate that he and his client were in the right. His money, power, and influence soon skyrocketed Rickas into the upper class of the city.

Psychological Profile:

Rickas is very friendly and warm as any politician must be. He has a great memory and uses it to his advantage when he can, by remembering something about a certain person they may have forgotten or wish to have forgotten. He uses his charm and warmth to get close to those he needs. If you're someone he doesn't need he can be cold and demanding. Rickas sees himself as practical and pragmatic, extremely so. This is a conscious decision to rebel from his father's way of doing things, to show that the only way to be successful is to not believe in ideals and dreams. He can convince an aristocratic blue blood that he is against the common plebs and then turn around and call out the wealthy and corrupt gentry of the city at a rally of the working class. While he is pragmatic, he does have a idealistic streak that he will entertain as long as it doesn't interfere with any political plans. He is a great reader of other people's emotions and wants which makes him a good diplomat and negotiator. While he does want to help people, he also wants power. He believes that only though power can people really be helped.

Equipment:

Nothing out of the usual clothes. He has his armor and weapons from adventuring, but they have been put up for a long time.

Titles/Holdings/Power Base:

Rickas is chief advocate of Dara, the top advocate to argue legal cases either representing Dara or someone in need of his help. His years as an advocate has led to him amassing a handsome personal fortune and a large house in the nicer part of the city. He has the money to buy several sellswords as he wishes. Rickas also has many contacts within Dara politics, from magistrates and council staff members to commanders in the city guard. He also has many friends and former clients in the business sector of the city. At one time he has represented nearly every single one of Dara's oldest and richest families of the city. Alongside the rich and connected he also has the poor on his side. With his reputation as a reformer and a man of the people, he is popular among the working class and can use them to sell his ideas to the rest of the city.

Relationships

TBD

[Mind of Madness]

Name: Ongar FallenHammer

Age: 51

Gender: Male

Race: Dwarf

Description:

Has long grey hair pulled into dreads and held by gold rings into thick dreadlocks, with a long grey bushy beard the goes down to his belly button that is tyed at the end with another gold ring. He has dull coppery eyes that have dark bags under them from many nights up drinking or forging a new blade, in turn his nose is red from drinking many bottles of spirits over the years. He has a very thick brow and strong square jaw, he stands at about four feet tall, though hard to tell under the chainmail he wear he is very built his forearms dwarf those of most humans and can heft battleaxes and swing them effortlessly from having to constantly test his newly forged weapons on training dummies. he has one scar across his mouth from Pykas and Cyrabassis which is a very obvious scar as it goes from the bottom of his left aye to the bottom right of his chin.

Skillset:

Having being raised from a young age on how to use a hammer on super heated metal, he is considered to be one of the best armor and weapon smiths even though he is drunk a good portion of time. He has skills in many weapons as he normally will take them out to test them before he sells them to customers of his forge. Though he is best suited with a mace as that was his weapon used in Pykas and Cyrabassis his father taught him that a mace is a dwarfs weapon and how to use it properly to bash an enemies skull in. He is a miner by nature as most dwarves are miners from a young age, he can spot out flaws in gems, gold, and any valuable ore presented to him. As well as spot them out in pitch darkness under a mountain.

Far Ancestry:

A long time back there was a king, king of the Dwarves his name was Durn'garn SilverHammer a mighty king he was for he had defended the lands against those who opposed his mighty mountain kingdom for many years back when Dwarves had a long life-span. His son Rungar SilverHammer betrothed an exiled Dwarf known as Dark Dwarves that were sent to the deepest parts of the mountain to stay exiled, Durn'garn opposed of this and banished his son Rungar SilverHammer out of the mountain with his wife as well. Stripping him of his last name he became Rungar FallenHammer.

Many years past Tungar FallenHammer great-grandchild of Rungar lead an army of exiled Dwarves against the mountain of Durn'garn SilverHammer, the war lasted for many years before finally Tungar FallenHammer broke the mountain gates open and stormed the throng. Tungar wielding his mace newly dubbed GateThrasher buried his mace into the crown that sat upon Durn'garn's head ending his reign. Durn'garns final breath released a curse upon the mountain making the mountain cave in upon itself keeping Tungar from ruling by killing all the dwarves apart of the bloodly war.

Character History:

Ongar raised from a young age by his father for his mother had died of unknown illness that had swept the town that they had lived upon killing a great many widowed dwarves. His father having to take care of his son which was only one when his mother had died could support them the only way he knew how, an anvil and hammer. He toke his son with him everyday to his forge which was in the center of town, when Ongar had reached the age of four his father began to teach him the art of smithing. Ongar crafted his first sword when he was six years old and quickly learned smithing from his father.

When Ongar turned ten his father showed him the ways of using a mace to defend himself of enemies the proper ways to swing a heavy weapon like his two-handed mace and how to block with it as well. Which Ongar picked up very fast for a kid of such a young age. One day the worst happened when Ongar had turned thirteen his father had sent him out to a nearby town to deliver a set of armor, when he had returned his town had been razed and burned to the ground by bandits. He found his father under his anvil his lower body crushed and a spear stuck through his shoulder, in anger Ongar roared loudly and followed the hooves of the bandits horses until he came to a camp. There were a total of seven bandits huddled around a fire keeping warm and looking over the plunder that they had scored from the Dwarf town. Ongar in raged attacked the bandits catching them off guard and procedded to bashing there faces in with his mace in an adrenaline fueled fury.

Having to leave his home behind he toke with him his father hammer and mace and joined up with a group of mercenarys in need of a smith. For many years Ongar traveled with many mercenarys groups making them some of the best weapons they had scene with the hammer his father had once used on his anvil, it wasn't until Pykas and Cyrabassis in Melazus that Ongar became familiar with true companionship as they raided and ended the life of King Pykas of Selander.

After those events Ongar continued to forge weapons and armor for his friends he had made and for those that needed his skill, people from different lands searched out the old dwarf to make and repair there armor and weapons. He toke no wife only the flask at his side and the hammer in his hand did he call his lover.

Psychological Profile:

Ongar thinks like someone who is seventy, he murmurs on how old he is at times complaining about how his bones are sore from swinging his hammer so many times or how the heat has made his skin parchment. After Pykas and Cyrabassis it got worse as it would seem that his mind had taken a shaking from the magic displayed, he is sometimes caught talking to invisible people and fearful of magic that people sometimes talk about as the scar on his face is from a magical attack during Pykas and Cyrabassis. No one believes his story of his scar only those who were with him during Pykas and Cyrabassis believes his story.

People are astounded on how much spirits Ongar can consume he didn't drink as much before Pykas and Cyrabassis but after such events it is not a surprise that a Dwarf has turned to the bottle. He is normally found at his forge pounding on metals or arguing over the rights of laborers at Dara's town center. Though at first glance he would not seem the type to care for others he has a place in his heart for those the have to work a day away to feed their family like his father did for him when he was young.

Characters Equipment:

Ognar uses a large two handed mace with many spikes pointing off of a spherical base, he wears a chainmail Hauberk with thick leather pauldrons. He also wears a pair of thick leather gloves for when he is smithing most of the time keeps the right glove off for his hammering arm but his left hands on for when he is holding the heated metal in place to hit it with his hammering arm. His greaves are plated at the knees but are mainly chainmail with a leather skirt to protect his thighs.

Titles/Holdings/Power Base:

Ognar is a legendary smithy who owns a very large shop towards the center of town, he has four apprentices that serve under him at the moment. He set his forge up to supply defenders of the city with weapons and armor to better supply them with means to defend the city against those who would seek its destruction. Thus the guard of the city look to him to repair and make them arms and armor reverently respecting anything they can get from the old dwarf.

Ognar also has a seat as the representative of the laborers of Dara and frequently speaks in their defense when taxes are inacted against them furuiously defending them, he is stubborn when it comes the the cities laborers rights and because of this laborers within the city look to Ognar for advice and respect his word when they ask for it.

Relationships:

Has no current relationships, open to any ideas for this area.

[BantlingBee]

Character Sheet
Name: Resalenna (Resa) Gantar
Age: 39
Gender: Female
Race: Human
Physical Description:

Even as a young woman, Resa would have been more typically described as “striking” as opposed to beautiful. She is somewhat taller than most people of her sex, with a slender physique. Childbirth has put a bit more weight on her body, but she is still willowy overall. Her slightly tan face is angular with high cheekbones and a surprisingly strong jaw. She has a finely tapered nose and hazel eyes that are quick to betray her emotion to those who know her. However, her full lips are rare to laugh and a slight movement of her dark brows is about all that generally indicates approval or surprise. Her dark eyebrows and eyelashes stand in contrast to the rest of her hair, which is auburn with a few grey streaks.

Skillset:

Resa’s education and background afforded her the opportunity to pursue a variety of interests, if not through practical application then through reading about it. Her family’s library was a constant haven for her as she grew up. It was there that she read everything she could about navigation, edible plants, medicine, history, and any other topics she could find. She is also familiar with tactical combat, having grown up the daughter of a military man. But perhaps her most surprising skill is rooted in a sort of rudimentary chemistry or alchemy. It is with this knowledge that she is able to make small and extremely crude explosives.

Far Ancestry:

The Gantar family is an old family, one that harkens back to a folk hero known simply as Fireborn Gantar. Legend tells of an infant who miraculously survived the burning of his village by raiders. He was found unscathed by the king’s army and raised to become a solider. Fireborn was a tenacious fighter who instilled fear into the hearts of his enemies. It was said that he had hair like flames and skin the color of newly smelted bronze. He perished while defending his homeland from invaders. Even now the Gantar family pays homage to these stories with the motto “Forged in flame” emblazoned on their coat of arms.

Character History:

The Gantar family has faded somewhat in recent generations. There is still an estate in Dara though, and this is where Resa was born and raised. Her parents’ marriage, though arranged, was surprisingly happy, and produced her older brother and herself in short time. However, their happiness faded considerably as her mother (who had always been a delicate and sickly person) died shortly after Resa turned seven. Her father enlisted the help of his younger sister to raise his two children while he ran the estate and when he was called to war. Their aunt was well meaning but stern, and only often disciplined the children rather harshly. Resa began hiding in her home’s vast library and began reading everything she could. It was one of the few pastimes her aunt approved of, though she often questioned why a young girl needed to know about the proper way to set a broken leg or the most expeditious kinds of flanking maneuvers.

She and her older brother Telor were incredibly close and grew up as each other’s constant companions. As was the tradition with Gantar men, he went off to war when he turned eighteen. Resa, her father, and her aunt had just bid Telor goodbye when his horse startled and threw him. He survived the fall, though lost most of his sight.

It was at this point that blight hit the family’s crops, decimating their harvests. Resa’s father had to begin to look for other ways to care for his family. And one of the easiest ways was a marriage. Resa had just recently come of age, and several suitors had approached her father about potential offers. Although he did not want to make his daughter unhappy, he was more concerned about her welfare, and that of his disabled son’s.

She was promised to a high-ranking nobleman who, while kind and gregarious, was both dimwitted and a bit dull. In one final act of youthful rebellion, Resa ran away and took to the streets of Dara. It was there that she met up with the rest of the adventurers.

The group’s final encounter with Pykas and Cyrabassis in Melazus shook Resa to her very core. She quickly went from being high-spirited and somewhat stubborn to incredibly taciturn and resigned. Unlike the other adventurers, she did not revel in their great adventures. She naturally assumed that she, a woman, would be overlooked by history. And so she was. When she got back to the city, she agreed to marry her husband, Lord Schyden provided that her brother be allowed to live with them.

Their marriage was not particularly unhappy, though it was evident that Resa didn’t find much joy in it. The two had four children: a five-year-old son, an eight-year-old daughter, and twin ten-year-old sons. Schyden died rather suddenly of a heart attack three years ago, leaving Resa and their children the entirety of his estate.

Psychological Profile:

Resa’s most remarkable feature is her intelligence. She is both quick-witted and well read, making her a somewhat intimidating figure to many. Although she was originally known for her brash nature and spitfire temper, this has changed substantially in the past decades. Now she is reserved to the point of appearing cold to all except those she is closest with. There is a sadness to her, but also a quiet strength. Although she is more reticent than her younger self, Resa is still unwilling to suffer fools and will voice her opinion if she feels that there is a need for it.

Despite some of her emotional distance, she is a good mother and cares deeply for her children. Interacting with them is about the only circumstance where the “old” Resa is really visible; she becomes vibrant and joyful once again.

Equipment:

Resa’s clothing is usually finely made but simple and lacking much adornment. She had been known to wear light plate armor when adventuring. Generally she prefers to wield smaller weapons, such as a light rapier. She also caries with her a satchel containing various vials and necessary supplies for her work. Some survival books are also stashed away, providing useful information on edible plants and the like. There are two pieces of jewelry she wears: an antique bronze ring engraved with the Gantar coat of arms, and a small lapis lazuli pendant that her children purchased for her a few years previous.

Titles/Holdings/Power Base:

Like many women of the age, Resa’s power stems mainly from the political connections of her and her family. She is a descendent of the Gantar family, which already holds a certain amount of prestige. However, combined with her late husband’s assets, she is quite influential among area nobles.

Not only does Resa own the Gantar estate in the city of Dara, but she owns the Schyden plantation and surrounding lands in the country. She is known for investing in what she considers to be worthy causes, helping gain further political influence.

One of the other areas of prominence for Resa is in the same library that she was so fond of as a child. Her library in Dara is open, by appointment, to the public. For many people who are too disadvantaged to afford a proper education, this is a phenomenal opportunity. Her wealth then, lies in political opportunities as well as access to information.

Relationships

Kanros—Before the battle with Cyrabassis and Pykas, Resa always had a certain fondness for Kanros. She enjoyed his dark humor and appreciated his pragmatism, finding it a refreshing change from the pomp and circumstance of Daran nobility. At nineteen, she admired his zeal for life and his tenacity, even felt a small sense of kindredness with the swordsman. Now, however, she remains covetous of the freedom that his lifestyle allows as well as somewhat mistrustful of his loyalty.

Rickas—Rickas was the only member of the adventurers that Resa had much contact with after her marriage. Since both of them are politically connected and run in the same circles, it was natural that they should remain friendly. The two of them agree on most political matters, though she finds him a bit garrulous and sometimes tires of the obsequiousness of politics. That being said, Resa appreciates his efforts and enjoys his company.

Ognar—Resa always assumed that Ognar never really liked her. The dwarf always seemed to have a chip on his shoulder about something or another and Resa assumed, perhaps correctly, that it was partially because of her noble birth. That being said, she has a sort of begrudging respect for him as a craftsman and as an advocate for the rights of workers.

Seeker—Seeker has always been a bit of an enigma to Resa. The two have a shared interest in potions and apothecary, so she enjoys picking his brain about these topics. In her youth, she was as quick to anger as he, and often got into spats with him about something or another. While her temperament has evened out considerably, she is wary of him and his line of work.

Devon—His steadfastness always impressed her, as did his generally agreeable manner. Resa never considered herself to be a particularly affable or extroverted person, so his desire for companionship was somewhat perplexing. But she did like talking to him and regretted not maintaining closer contact with him. She does feel a bit of sympathy for him as well as a certain degree of kinship, given that he is no longer able to do what he wants.

[kagethekiller]

Character Sheet
Name: Seeker Reeds
Age: 39
Gender: Male
Race: Human
Physical Description:

A man of small stature standing at roughly 5'6, he has striking green eyes in contrast to his light tan skin tone, and dark black, shoulder length hair. From just bellow his cheek bone down the rest of his body he has many sigils spiraling from one another, these are called Ponos in his native tongue, meaning 'mark of a man'. He is lean, not quite skinny and he always wears his silver and gold bracelets he was found with as a child.

Skillset

As an orphan Seeker strove to be one of the best hunters in his age group and his tracking skills are unmatched. Him being raised my the medicine woman of his tribe gave him a wide knowledge of natural plants and herbal remedies, though as a boy he was taunted for his knowledge, now it may be one of his biggest assets in his poison making. He's extremely accurate with his throwing hatchet and is skilled in swordsmanship, though he prefers a dagger or cutlass to a broadsword. Seeker also has a quick tongue, though he's no peacemaker, he's talked himself out of many a close situation. What he lacks in raw strength he makes up for in speed, and hes proved many a time that not always the strongest combatant is the victor.

Far Ancestry:

Seeker was found as and infant near a small river close to his tribe, stories say his mother was a barbaric woman who fell in love with one of the warrior chiefs of a neighboring tribe named Nosuph Strongbird. As legend has it Nosuph was the last of a long bloodline of mighty warrior said to be able to kill 3 men in a single blow, and rip flesh apart with there teeth, as a boy he was found clutching a deer to his chest after he had ripped it apart savagely, so the story goes. After his fathers tribe found out of his betrayal in laying with an outlander they cast the two into exile and barred them from ever coming back to his tribe.

Along the route to Shinn, a small town on the cost of the state, his mother and father were attacked. They say the bodies of the attackers were never found, the only remnants of the fight was the corpse of his mother unwounded, and a trail of blood into the woods nearby. Its said a huge beast came from the woods and swallowed the men whole and took the baby to a tribe just near the woods. Found rapped inside the blanket he was in, was two bracelets covered in runes. Seeker doesn't believe the stories of his mighty warrior heritage or the stories of how his father was found.

Character History:

After his right of passage Seeker moved away from his tribe to pursue life as an apothecary in Dara, though the business tanked and he was forced to start taking contracts for money, he soon became one of the best assassins in the city. When the time came, he eventually was thrown into the fight with Pykas and proved to be good at his profession, killing with a fire in his eyes. After the conflict he went back to his work and went into solitude for nearly 10 years until he finally reemerged in Dara looking for a small haven of peace. For the past few years he's been doing random jobs trying to keep himself busy, trying to keep the fire out of his eyes. As those years in solitude went by he felt the need to kill was more prevalent than ever before. He now sits in the head seat of the Assassins Guild in Dara, trying to keep his hands clean while learning the politics of the city, though when your an assassin that seemed to never pan out.

Psychological Profile:

He has a very short temper and rarely ever smiles though when he does it reaches from ear to ear. As he grows older his bloodlust seems to be getting more and more apparent and after his encounter with Cyrabassis he fears one day he wont be able to control it. His humor could be best described as cruel and he tends to be an 'actions speak for all' kind of person. He's no genius but he isn't an idiot either he's extremely skilled with a gold coin and over the years has developed many connections in the city.

Equipment:

He always carries his poison belt and hatchet on him, and he is seldom found without a sword or dagger, though he normally carries a small dagger strapped to his boot leg. The two bracelets he wears are dormant, and he's usually wearing black garb. He normally doesn't carry much more than that on him at any time, except his coin pursed tucked under his jacket.

Titles/Holdings/Power Base:

Leader of the Assassins guild, owns a small villa on the edge of the city with only one female servant named Fleens. He could only at best call a handful of skilled assassins to his aid and even then that would be a rare case. He is also know for his potent potions and they've been know to save many an important persons life.

Relationships

TBD.

I many edit some of bits like the relationship portion. And if anything needs to be fixed let me know xD

[redPANDA]

[Character not participating any longer]

[Pathfinder]

Name: Devon Cowen
Age: 44
Gender: Male
Race: Human
Physical Description:
If there's one word that described Devon, it was powerful. From his 6'7 stature, to his rippling physique, he was a force to be reckoned with. But that was a long time ago. Now, while still quite imposing, his stance is a little hunched, his muscles aren't as toned, and the fire of youth has simmered in his eyes, replacing it with the wisdom of old age. His once great mane of wild, dirt blond hair has became tame with but a simple comb and the grey of age has begun to creep in at the temples and beard, giving him a certain attractiveness that only comes at his age. Laugh lines are visible at the corners of his eyes and mouth, which gives him a friendly, fatherly look. However, not too noticeable to most people, he has burn scar on the palms of his hands and a lightning scar along his chest, and the nerve damage to boot.

Skillset:
Before his injuries he got during the final battle, Devon was one of the best warriors of the group when it came to single combat. As the son of a knight, he decided that he also needed to become one as well. While he never did become a knight, he did learn how to fight with a sword and shield, how to move in heavy armor, and to ride a horse. However, his days of fighting are over. With the nerve damage and age catching up to him, he chose to switch gears. Gaining knowledge in the brewing arts and a little herbal know how from the family alchemist, Devon is now a competent brew master and as such, spends a lot of his time making booze.

Far Ancestry:
The Cowen family has always been warriors, from lowly bandits to pious knights. There has been a warrior in the Cowen family in every single generation. As far as the tree goes, Devon's great, great, great grandfather was a bandit chief of great infamy. He would pillage villages and sack great castles. That is until he met the true killer of men, women. When he had found the love of his life, she had convinced him to leave the bandit life behind and go live their lives. So he did. After telling his men he was leaving a great uproar came from the other bandits demanding who would be leader, upon hearing this he simply said that he didn't care and the gang soon locked heads. After several years of this the once great bandit clan was wiped out from within.

After leaving the clan behind, he decided to become the backer of a up an coming lord, being the man behind the man so to speak. Several years of this and he became a king and gave land which would later become the ancestral lands of the Cowen clan.Ever since then, seeing how war could become profitable, he decided that the family needed warriors. So he established the tradition that each father would teach the first born to be a warrior, this continued until no one remembered why they did it, only that they did.

Character History:
Devon was just like every first born of Clan Cowen. Strong, skilled, and courageous. At this time, all little Devon wanted to do was become a knight, like his father. So they trained and trained and trained until young Devon was eligible for knighthood. Yet, a month before his scheduled knighting ceremony, his land was attacked by bandits and his home eventually destroyed. His father and the rest of his family had died and he was all alone, without money, food, or companionship. What he did have was a dingy set of armor, a sword, and the family necklace. Since he didn't have the money to pay for the be-knightment ceremony, he saw no alternative but to become a sell sword, or mercenary as some would say.

After several years of this, he gained a reputation as a trustworthy soul and nobles started to hire him to transport them and their goods. However this work was proving to be boring, he decided to become an adventurer, travel the world. He definitely had the money to afford it. Along his travels he saw many horrible things, bandit pillagers, monsters of different shapes and forms, and magic. But he also saw many beautiful things, like what the world looked underneath the summit of a mountain, the glitter of the night sky without the pollution of cities, and the warmth of companionship. It was during these travels he happened across the group of travelers who he would one day call his friends. Devon counts these days some of his best times of his life Drinking contests with Ongar, debates with Rickas, war stories with Kanros, marveling over the applications of alchemy with Resa, and talking herbs with Seeker. This rag tag bunch of misfits became something more than friends, they became the family he had wanted growing and during his long career he would lay down his life to protect them. Which is something he almost did during the final battle with Cyrabassis and Pykas. Once the battle begun, Cyrabassis struck Devon with some type of magic, activating the long dormant powers of the family necklace. Acting as a battery, the necklace absorbed the magical energies coming form the spell and rendered it useless, at the cost of converting the magic into a new form of power, lightning. Since electricity is a naturally occurring phenomena, the family heirloom did nothing to contain it and it ran rampant throughout Devon's body. However, this did not stop Devon and for better or for worse he shrugged the worst off and charged at Cyrabassis. This foolhardy tactic earned him another, more powerful spell to the chest. The heirloom hadn't been able to release any magic from the previous spell and, like an overloaded battery, causing the pent up magic to explode outward in a wave of force. The kickback of the explosion flung Devon accross the room and colliding into a wall, crumpling in a heap on the floor. However there was a silver lining to this, with so much magic flung at one person, Cyrabassis's reserves were greatly diminished and allowing the rest of the group to have an even chance against him.

Devon never really did recover physically from the ordeal, his hands were burnt to hell and the resulting nerve damage meant that he couldn't raise a shield and sword in his families defense as good as he used to, taking away the only thing he really knew how to do. In response, Devon grew depressed and decided to hide it by swamping himself in work, helping to train the Dara city guard. While he couldn't hold a sword like he used to, his reputation as a warrior still rang true among the people. During this time, he met with and befriended an elderly tavern owner by the name of Barkley. During their brief friendship, Devon was taught everything Barkley knew about owning a Tavern. From keeping the glasses clean to brewing ale. Devon discovered something he never thought he could find again, something he actually actually enjoyed. Soon after, Barkley became ill and when he died he left everything to Devon. Unfortunately, this also meant the mountain of dept he owed to the local..."Protection agency".

Even though it was less than ideal, Devon took up the challenge and flipped the place upside down. Paying the dept and turning the dingy little hovel into one of the best taverns in the city, if you didn't mind a little roughness around the edges. As the "Adventurers Rest" started to turn a profit, Devon found that he had too much gold and not enough to do with it. So he started to expand his horizons. It started with a market stall, then another, and another, until he had bought out about ten of them and each paying him a percentage of sales. After the stalls, Devon purchased the property deed of a rundown inn, flipped it, then made even more gold. Sensing a new future, Devon started buying and renovating different types of buildings. From market stalls, inns, and forges, to cart builders, ranches, and farms. He even bought out a trading company and so his ales can be sold across seas. Eventually, the nigh endless amount of gold being made grew boring for Devon. Getting a little tip from an "anonymous source" Devon got involved in the thieves guild and became an information broker of sorts. With all the land, inns, and taverns underneath his control, Devon was able to amass a large amount of contacts, if you needed something, Devon could get it to you. While a little more cloak and dagger than he would have liked, without his hands he couldn't do what he could before the battle, so it was a nice distraction. During this time, Devon met a girl named Fiona. Devon was introduced to her by the guild master and the two hit it off from there. After almost a year and a half, the two got married and Fiona quit the guild, with a little petty thievery from time to time. After several years of happy marriage, Fiona became pregnant and a little under nine months later Audrey was born. While it was the happiest moment in Devon's life, it was also marked with his worst tragedy. Fiona died of complications and Audrey almost died as well. Devon was never a praying man, but on that day he prayed to every god he new to keep them alive. While Audrey did take her mothers life, Devon does not resent her for it, he knew that things like this happen and that there is no use hating a child for it. With Audrey growing up, Devon was hit with a problem, should she be raised as a Cowen or as a normal child. Thinking long and hard on what Fiona had wanted, Devon became the first Cowen in generations to break tradition and raised Audrey with a normal childhood...Well, except for the self defense courses.

With all of his business ventures and information coming in every which way, Devon has somehow kept sane by just keeping a low profile as a harmless bartender, with several thieves within ear reach within the bar at all times and he hears all of the gossip, rumors, and dirty secrets around Dara. Every now and then, another member of the old party comes down and visits, catches up on old times, and shares a laugh. Devon is now content to live his life, his injuries a little too great to allow him to take up the sword again and the things he has seen haven't allowed him to keep the optimism of youth in his old age. But he stays content, he has many profitable businesses, a loving daughter, and good friends. Truly there isn't anything else he could ask for.
Psychological Profile:
Devon's number one strength will always be his determination. It was his determination that got him through his childhood, it was his determination that allowed him to survive two lighting bolts, it was his determination that got him off of his feet and start to live his life when he couldn't do what he loved to do. Even with all he has been through, Devon is determined to stay with his family and make sure they are all right and he will right them periodically, just to be sure. However the past still happened and due to that, magic is still something he fears and distrusts. To him, it seems irrational. Magic can be used for so much good, but he has seen it be used for too much evil for him to fully trust it. But he is a little biased, given that magic took his ability to adventure. He can't even leave the tavern during a thunder storm for fear of lighting.

As the information broker, Devon keeps a cool, calculating mind. Making every decision with careful planning and help from a select few advisers.

Equipment:
Smite: The sword used in the battle against Cyrabassis. Before then, it was used against many a foe and has proven to be a useful weapon throughout. Now days it sits along with the shield above the bar, more a trophy than anything now.

Bulwark: A standard escutcheon pattern shield, it took the brunt of Cyrabassis's magical attack during that fateful day. Now its a little slagged and dented, a testiment and a badge of proof to what he survived.

Adventure armor: His old set of armor comprising of chain mail, breast plate, and assorted furs. He lost the helmet during the battle with Cyrabassis and the gauntlets were rendered useless due to the magic coursing through them. He now keeps it in the back, a grim reminder of what he survived.

Cowen family necklace: While most of it was destroyed when it overloaded, the core of it remains. Just a warped piece of gold that he wares with pride.

Titles/Holdings/Power Base:
Owner of many businesses, Devon holds the ownership deeds of bars, taverns, inns, mills, breweries boats, stables, farms, and even a whole trade company. In this vain, Devon has many advisers, secretaries, and retainers under his employ. However, since he only publicly owns the "Adventurers Rest", Devon is just known as the Tavern Master. The only people close to him work wise is an elfish secretary by the name of Elen'way, a dwarfish cook called Rugen, Thora the barmaid, and his daughter Audrey who works the tables along with Thora.

However in the thieves guild, he is known as the "Broker of Secrets" and what that entails is that he buys and sells of information. With that job, Devon has a legion of informants who update him constantly with new information, which is why he keeps Elen'way close.

Relationships

Kanros- Devon has respected Kanros ever since he saw him in action all those years ago. During the fights he held himself and was able to order the group around to be their most efficient in battle. However, as the years went on Devon found himself slightly jealous of his freedom, being able to go were he wanted to and when but he wont allow that to break their friendship. Now days, Devon is glad to serve him and his men as long as they stay away from Audrey.

Rickas- Rickas was always seemed a little odd to Devon. The man could con a banker out of ever gold piece he had but he always seemed much more intent to just talk, not that Devon minded. While definitely not as smart as Rickas in most things but he was smart enough to hold a conversation and the two would talk for hours when they were on the road. As the years went by, the two don't see each other as often but when they do its usually met with fine drinks and an exchange of secrets. With Devon's position in the thieves guild he is quite the valuable resource to a man like Rickas and Devon frequently sells his knowledge to him. At a discount.

Ongar- Back in their adventuring days the two had a friendly rivalry of sorts, which usually was who could kill more enemies than the other since Devon had very little skills outside of that. Devon deeply respects Ongar as both a warrior and a craftsmen. With their old age setting in, Devon watches Ongar when he enters his tavern and makes sure he doesn't drink himself stupid. However when Devon sees him this way it brings a certain sadness to him. Since Devon was unconscious for most of the final battle he never saw the other horrors the others have seen and he wonders if that is the reason he drinks so much. However a friend is still a friend and Devon stands vigil over him should he pass out, its the least he could do.

Resalenna- Devon always thought Resa was sticking, if he had been looking for someone at that time in his life he may have tried to court her but that time is long gone. Now days the two don't really see each other much, but the friendship is there. He even made her Audrey's godmother, should anything happen to himself. One of Devon's greatest fascinations with Resa was her ability to make the explosives, there was something about the balls of death that greatly satisfied him. Like the others, she is free to come to the tavern and take a load off whenever she wants.

Seeker- Devon has always been wary of Seeker, the two were almost polar opposites. Where as seeker was small Devon was tall. Seeker relied on speed while Devon needed strength. Where Seeker is angry Devon is calm. It is these differences that divided them while in the party but age has mostly sorted these out. Now the two have a professional relationship, whenever Seeker needs information his usual contacts can't get he would come to Devon and the thieves guild and since then he has gained a grudging respect for the man and his abilities.

[cider]

Character Sheet
Name: Carrick Viluine
Age: 53
Gender: Male
Race: Half-elf (sun elf and human)
Physical Description:

Tall for a half-elf, about 5’10”, Carrick features a very strong, honed body that, while having lost some agility over the years, remains an imposing presence. His muscles are as hard as his face, with scars running along most of his limbs. While Carrick's hair has turned from blonde to white with age, it was indeed white when he was a newborn. An odd fact lacking explanation. Carrick’s walk is a confident and determined one, much like his yellow-eyed gaze.

Skillset:

Nearly all of Carrick's talents relates to the field he has dedicated his life to. He was once an extraordinary swordsman and duelist, to the extent that he never met his match. The years have aged him, and Carrick is not as quick or indeed good as he once was with a sword, but is still very effective in his use of it. He is an excellent tracker and survivalist, often spending weeks from civilization in search of his prey. He is cunning in tactics, setting up ambushes and getting information. During later years, he has through practice developed a sense for strategy and management - aspects he was previously very unfamiliar with.

Other than that, Carrick considers himself a good cook and a great swordsmith.

Far Ancestry:

Tales of Wallir the Wise have survived more generations of sun elves than people have been bothered to keep track of. The offspring of an elven sorceress and a panther of mythic proportions, the legend of Wallir is an unlikely one. Said to display magic powers previously unheard of, Wallir could turn himself into any animal - wielding flame and ice as weapons while he carved himself into history by dispatching one magical beast after the other, each battle spawning tales of their own. How much of this legend that holds true no one knows, and it's likely been exaggerated throughout the years, but every sun elf knows that Wallir the Wise once lived. Or so they think.

What definitely is true is that Carrick's mother comes from a long line of druids, a line said to stem in magical sources. As for his father, Carrick knows nothing. The truth is that the senior Carrick's paternal bloodline can be traced to the frozen tundras of the far north, areas far beyond the world that is known today. Legends of men white as snow with red and yellow eyes fighting off southern invaders and settlers have been forgotten, but the frozen lands are said to remain.

Character History:

Carrick, a name he inherited from his human father, is the result of a rare affair between a sun elf and a human. Aniewen, his mother, was a druid and the leader of a small elven clan living on the fringe of human society, and one of few among the sun elves to come in contact with humans more than once. Carrick’s father, Carrick, was a brazen, charismatic merchant whom courted Aniewen over the years as his trading caravan would visit the clan, eventually finding his feelings answered.

The affair didn’t last for more than a year as Carrick’s father was killed in a botched highway robbery on one of his journeys, but Aniewen was already pregnant and chose to name the child after its father. Carrick – much to the dismay of many other sun elves – was raised in the clan, often bullied in secret by other children as no one would openly dare disrespect the leader’s son. Nevertheless, Aniewen did an impeccable job of raising young Carrick, teaching him the druidic arts in the process.

As Carrick came into his teens, disaster struck. Tension had risen between the clan of sun elves and the inhabitants of the closest city. The game the elves hunted had moved to the west, to the human hunting grounds, causing the elves to venture into human lands in search for food. It didn’t take long before vocal conflicts turned into physical violence, and on one such occasion leaving three humans dead. After that, the humans wanted blood. They hired a company of mercenaries, consisting of thieves, murderers and their like, to wipe out the clan of elves. The mercenaries proved more than up to the task as they easily slaughtered the elves, among them Aniewen.

Carrick, however, survived. His mother had demanded that he’d leave in secret as the fighting erupted. Carrick had listened and left, despite every fiber of his being wanting to help protect his ‘brethren’ and, far more importantly, his mother. He left his lands entirely, travelling to the north, where he would have plenty of good and bad experiences.

Unsure of what to do with his life, Carrick found his calling while visiting Evenfall, a rather large human city housing the famous/infamous (depending on who you ask) and aptly named Order of Evenfall (usually called “the Evenfall Order”). The order’s one and only mission was to track, hunt and capture/kill beasts, criminals, rogues, mercenaries and others disturbing the purported "peace" – persons or creatures who comitted actions considered very far from good by the Order and/or the public. Feeling as if a hole in him had been filled just by looking at the impressive building, Carrick had found himself among the new recruits the following spring, beginning a very long, difficult and unforgiving apprenticeship that would cause almost all of the recruits to quit or simply not make the ranks. Carrick, however, did. He proved a talented if unexperienced swordsman and made use of his mother's teachings as well as his upbringing in general when the Order taught him to scout and track. After completing his training, Carrick was assigned to one of the many small military units in the order, consisting of other military trained members (Stalkers, as they’re called by the public).

The unit proceeded to carry out various assignments for the order, with Carrick doing what he felt he was destined to do – hunt evil. As the years went by, Carrick rose in prominence in the order, eventually to the degree that he started operating by himself, travelling much farther than most Stalkers did in pursuit of wanted men, creatures and more. It was after a decade of doing this that he met a group of adventurers in the city of Dara, and they began helping each other chasing down common enemies, including facing Pykas and Cyrabassis.

Meanwhile, Carrick continued rising in the Order's ranks, until eventually being named Master of the Order, second only to the Grandmaster. Carrick desired to expand the order far beyond the reach of Evenfall, and found himself increasingly frustrated by the fact that only a handful of the Stalkers ever travelled as far as himself in their pursuits. As the time came for most of the adventurers he often travelled with to retire, some settled in Dara, and Carrick eventually followed suit. While not retiring from the order in any way, the aging Carrick decided it was time he stopped chasing monsters and mages, and instead convinced the Grandmaster to start a chapter of the order in Dara, with Carrick becoming its Master.

Now, three years later, Carrick continues to lead and expand the Dara chapter of the order, while becoming an increasingly familiar figure in Dara's power circles.

Psychological Profile:

Tainted by the memories of his clans demise, Carrick has remained a cold yet passionate man. His view on criminality and what he considers to be evil acts is unwavering, as is his resolve in combating these threats. He has given his life to the order and has no family outside of it. In fact, he has never even gotten laid. His discipline and work rate is extreme even amongst the members of the order, who often find Carrick intimidating. Some make jokes about him behind his back, more often than not in an attempt to remedy the fact that they feel incompetent in comparison. While well-read in aspects pertaining to military matters - be it history, tactics, smithing or leadership - Carrick is far from an intellectual and knows little about subjects not related to his profession, the exception being cooking. He knows nothing of culture, and is surprisingly socially inept for being an ex-Stalker.

Often viewed as a grim and even bitter man, Carrick's outlook on the world is bleak after facing the ugly sides of it for so long. He holds little love for the society he protects, but remains certain that law, order and justice are virtues worth upholding.

Carrick spends his days managing the ever-expanding chapter. He feels at ease being the shot caller, and is as confident and self-assured as he is determined. Most people find him hard to be around socially, and the only time Carrick can ever be heard cracking a joke are either when he cooks or the seldom occasions on which he is drinking. Nevertheless, Carrick is dependable. He always returns a favour with a favour and does whatever he can to protect those he considers to be good people.

Ever since facing Pykas and Cyrabassis, Carrick has had strong views on magic. He considers these powers an unrivalledly large threat towards society, a fact showcased by Cyrabassis himself. The rumors and stories currently floating around regarding magic worries Carrick, and lately he has been reading into various myths and stories about it - just in case...

Equipment:

A relatively vast collection of swords - courtesy of his hobby. The quality varies, but a few of them could certainly fetch a high price. Other than the swords, Carrick puts little value in material things, and own nothing of note. In battle he typically wears one of his swords and the order's armor - either leather armor or chainmail depending on the situation, featuring a simple crest with a blue and grey sword on top of a shield.

Titles/Holdings/Power Base:

An old and ruined temple once used to worship now long since forgotten gods have been restored to its former glory. It serves as the head quarters for the Dara chapter of the Evenfall Order, and whilst still a young establishment, it's numbers are bolstering. The order is often involved in training the local city guards and engages the criminal element of the city frequently, to the point of weakening organized crime significantly. The Dara chapter currently consists of roughly a hundred members. Most of them are builders, servants and similar staff, while fifteen of them are Stalkers, the armed forces of the order, four of which are veterans. The other eleven are newly inducted Stalkers (as in, they just finished training) that have been relocated from Evenfall to Dara. Additionally, there are twenty-three men and women from Dara currently undergoing training.

The order serves the same purpose as it does in Evenfall - it is a highly organized mercenary group with radical views on crime and punishment. It is employed by the city when the city guard, for whatever reason, isn't capable of dealing with a threat, and is also taking on contracts from other settlements in the vicinity. The Dara chapter doesn't have as much influence in Dara as the much larger Evenfall chapter has in Evenfall, but shares economical resources with its sister chapter. Most denizens of Dara considers the order a poorly manned but better trained and equipped version of the city guard, though the fact that the order is a mercenary group requiring payment for its services has caused some resentment.

The non-military members of the order are people of various professions of interest to the order who all share the same morale compass as well as view regarding their stance on criminality. Smiths, tailors, servants, traders, carpenters and masons are all professions commonly found amongst these people. The soldiers of the order, the Stalkers, are highly trained and disciplined individuals specializing in single combat and finding people who doesn't want to be found. They are often sent out on missions beyond the city limits, and the more experienced Stalkers typically act independently and alone.

Relationships

WIP

OOC Notes:

The druid profession mentioned in the bio has nothing to do with magic or other supernatural stuff. The sun elf clan merely had superstitious beliefs, and a druid is essentially the same as the typical D&D druid, without the powers. Knows lots about flora and fauna as well as similar lore, pathfinding and alchemy.

[Noxious]

Name Amunet Heka

Age 45

Gender Female

Race Elven Heritage



Physical Description

She claimed a stature that was impressive amongst humans, strong and lean; traits afforded her due to her heritage and a life unaccustomed to stagnation. Her ears, laced with metal from tip to lobe are peaked instead of rounded and surrounded by hair the color of desolate night sky, traced now with a stray shooting star of glimmering white. Which were a newly acquired reminder that Noteyalis consumed all in their insatiable hunger. The eyes of her people have always appeared sharper and more focused than their human brothers. Hers create a piercing contrast, bragging of a clear and unyielding spring, judgmental and complacent. A heavy black traced about her eyes, temporarily smudged with paint, though existent deep into her skin from a lifetime of application. The same paint/tattoo collection licks across all of her skin. Runes, penance, respect, sacrifice; they all whisper secrets entombed within the will of her people. A red paint consumes her face in times of war; a promise of drive. A niquab, formerly the colors of her people has recently found strips of forest hues as a nod of solidarity with the guardian’s. On occasion this article is pulled back and pinned at her shoulders to reveal her body, still in tune with its physicality. Hers was a weapon that’s necessary coverings consisted of a thick blackish moss, almost cotton like, that was gifted from Noteyalis to enhance the wearers connection with all that she entombed. The adornments, which in Dara seemed like an ostentatious show, were a point of pride, breeding and respect among her own people.

Skillset

• Herbalism- Strong beliefs that the great Noteyalis has provided an answer to all problems within the earth. All Elven children are taught basic herbs.
• Hand to hand combat- While all Elven children are taught the basics, it was those amongst their clergy that felt a divine call to remain in peak physical condition and be able to protect the mysteries and the sanctity of slumbering Noteyalis.
• Stealth- Raised to embrace the cover of night, when the hot winds of the desert did not blister the skin so severely, her people have learned to seemingly pull the night about them and slip through its mazes with ease and comfort.
• Arcane/Occult- While magic was lost, it was not trivialized amongst the followers of Noteyalis. They strongly believed that it was gifted to them and then taken away by a jealous and repressing God, the same which imprisoned Noteyalis. They owed it to their faith to maintain a vigilant knowledge of all that once was. Her people have grown quiet and protective of their knowledge, especially after the evil Cyrabassis drove fear of persecution into their hearts.

Far Ancestry

Noteyalis had once been a great wanderer of this plane. From each toe that graced the earth came gifts and curses of plague, fertility, darkness and light without any order or reason. They danced across the dessert leaving temporary crossroads and wells of arcane within the wake, springs that bubbled with acidic death and flowers that bloomed with the promises of deep magic that consumed and enlightened the people. They could call upon the dead and transfer the energies of life among plants, animals and even the divine with words and sacrifice.

It was a time before the great city state Dara was ruminating in destiny, before the moon had found a rhythm, and even before great Watchers of Balance had climbed to the height of their thrones; Noteyalis grew bored of traveling and decided to try its hand at creating something permanent, something relevant. The other divine beings had already begun to covet the lush forests of the east and the great mountains of the north. They traded and bargained allegiances and totems, but Noteyalis had no need for the deceptively pleasant border drawing of their counterparts. And then she stumbled upon Choachyte.

It is said that upon finding the barren and desolate desert Noteyalis released a bellow of pride so enticing that the river broke from its path and came to her heel. And in Choachyte the moon found a lover that influenced the curse of permanence and order. The land grew slowly, carefully. Noteyalis unmoving presence coaxed all means of plant and animals to her, the arcane magic leaking from her being into the sand and traveling like roots about the area. Not to be outdone by the creation of humans, soul carriers, they pulled at the clay and the roots and the bones of her other majestic creations to embody the elf.

Noteyalis busied itself with creation until there seemed little left to create without threatening the perfection…and then they exceeded their reaches. She began the formation of the great mangrove, a crossroads that muddled the distinctions of this plane and affected all the land for miles. (Some elven scholars argue that it was from the mangrove that their descendants departed. Some believe it was from the loins of Noteyalis itself. All agree that without Noteyalis the Elven race would never have been brought into existence.) The tree arched upwards to the sky in a feat of size that had never been attained by a mortal being, caressing the face of the moon which Choachyte longed for so immensely.

The other Gods turned on Noteyalis, scoffing at her creations, enraged by the bending of laws carried out on the plane, surely jealous at the reach that Noteyalis possessed. They began to plot against Noteyalis and the chaos that harkened her being. Their followers began to spread rumors and misconceptions about Noteyalis and her people that, to this day, influence an underlying current of distrust and fascination with the area and the elven kind. It was during this time that the bowels of the Mangrove became sanctuaries, temples and libraries dedicated to Noteyalis and their teachings. The myriad of hidden catacombs within the living tree boasted entrances beneath the waters of the timeless spring and hidden beneath unmarkable sands of the desert.

Some claim it was the Watchers of Balance who offered up the final deceit to Noteyalis; though more claim that it was the jealousy and cruel sibling of Noteyalis, Cavi’antu, who was to be eternally blamed. While the perpetrator varies in the stories, the circumstances do not. Noteyalis was offered a truce that was to be discussed and negotiated during the suns prodigious eclipse, but no truce was to be claimed. As Noteyalis extended a hand on decided terms she was met with an infectious pestilence that clawed into her physical self and tethered the God to the Mangrove. In fear that the Mangrove would not prove tomb enough to the paralyzed God the others assaulted the tree with ferocity so immense that the tree cracked and fell into 5 points that stretched across the desert. Each point was said to represent a culmination of distinct fractions of Noteyalis’ former self. Even paralyzed and shattered Noteyalis influence was present. Those in tune with land and with the arcane currents could feel the soft whispers, prominent in the willing dreamer.

And if it was up to the humans, all of this would by myth; myth mostly forgotten or purposefully erased. But where the tree had fallen it stayed, and so too did the Elven people stay. The great city state of Choachyte was an unmovable testament to Noteyalis, oft disguised as a desert haven turned merchant refuge. Its population boasted thousands from a variety of races, living amongst the fallen tree as it curled through their landscape and their dreams. The government was a republic that leaned closer to aristocracy; as it seems that prominent families within the city maintained their power throughout the political hierarchy. The cities leaders mirrored the population’s diversity in race and ideals; rarely were the Elven representatives displaced as majority.

Character History

Amongst the Elven community births are a great celebration. They are not as fertile as humans and so births are not near as common and are seen as one of the ultimate blessings. The fact that she was the second child born to aristocratic parents was cause for a gala that lasted over a week and was mirrored each year in a celebration for both her brother and herself. Her childhood between these weeks held much of the same; servants supplying delicacies and etiquette, elders constantly handing out gems of knowledge and running nightly in the woods with the many pets her Mother had accumulated. Her mother, an elegant and joyful woman, told elaborate fairy tales about the tree, magic and animals of legend which sometimes even included ornate puppet shows and scenes played out by the household staff. She knew nothing but joy and happiness as a child.

When she was 4 it was her brother’s turn to choose his path. Humans occasionally scoff at the suffering of being forced into a path because of your parents, but that was one of the trivialities of human nature she judged them for. It was an honor that her brother was invited into the folds of the church, focusing on politics and economics as her father had. Had he not been apt at these subjects it is sure that the family would have made consolations for him, but he excelled away from the nest and even at the age of 4 Amunet was proud. Without her brother little of the joy was removed from her house for now she occupied the full attention of her mother.

When it was her time the already strong willed youth stood before them, much more pensive than her brother had been. Her brother had fulfilled the expectations and her own choice was much less defined. She held her head up tall and still dark hair threatened to brush across the soft fertile dirt within the Mangrove. A woman, aged almost to a century, leaned forward towards the girl, a large smile creeping across her wrinkled lips. “What occupies your dreams child?” Amunet told them about her dreams, not her goals, but the monsters and saviors that came to her and whispered and smelled of mangrove. Perhaps her dreams were influenced by the stories of her mother, but perhaps they were influenced by Noteyalis? Her fate hung in limbo and a second meeting was called a week later.

At this meeting a goat hung, baying in its discomfort. Her mother walked her into the room and then was asked to leave. When her mother returned to collect her child and the answer Amunet stood, a sickle in hand and covered in the blood of the goat. At first her mother’s face scared the small child. Had she done something wrong? Was this not the way? But then the tears gave way to a smile and she collected the child. “You will follow in my footsteps little one and your life will be full of secrets adventure!” It was this promise that carved the determination of success into her previously lackadaisical attitude. One week later she moved out of the house and into the dormitories with the rest of her chosen path. They were to be trained in the knowledge and religious dealings of the elven community and more specifically, of the Somnus of Noteyalis (the Sons).

Her life became a routine in which nothing was old or routine. In the fading light of dusk they would awaken and for 2 hours they belonged to physical trainer, elders that taught them of stealth, combat and tested their physical limits. This was the norm amongst all Elven training. What followed was specific not only to the chosen path, but also to the Elven child in training. The majority of her training was in studying the religious books and practices of the Sons. Finally, before they allowed themselves sleep, they would as a group or alone meditate on the lessons of the day within the heart of the mangrove, an ethereal place reserved for those headed towards priesthood.

She spent 10 years training, absorbing all forms of knowledge and seeing her family only during the Festival of the Crying Moon. Her mother marked the changes in her daughter, watching over the years how her innocent smile became one composed of joyful secrets and then, in Amunets 16th year her mother saw the allure in that enigmatic smile and stunning blue eyes and knew that soon her daughter would want more; but the motherly fear in her gut came from the destiny that blazed behind the blue pools in her eyes, threatening to surge.

It was no surprise at 16 when she chose to continue and focus her training. An elven child had never turned their back on the chosen path of the Sons. Her studies became more immense and immersive. Days were spent in meditation while her body was tattooed and pierced; she would focus on the pain and sacrifice she was entitled to. She learned of sacrifice beyond herself; the differences between energies in self-sacrifice and forced sacrifice. She learned about the stars and their promises. She learned how to provide attainable answers from questions that she had ruminated on for hours. She learned how to lead.

At 22 she was already a fierce leader amongst her peers and was well respected by her elders for her passion and enthusiasm. She was drawn to Dara because of the allure of leaving home, but also because it was a believable sell to her people. She told them she would research the likelihood of a sect. which would strengthen their business dealings; from exotic gems and produce to teachers and herbalists to astronomers and sooth sayers. The majority of their sales were in knowledge, or in other services for those willing to bargain with morality. She knew that to convince the Sons to allow a break and movement of some of their people away from the Mangrove would be a tough sell, but at that age she really didn’t care whether or not they moved to Dara. She only cared that she would be allowed to travel.

She became wrapped up with the Gaurdians and grew a debt amongst her fellow fighters that tethered her to Dara for eternity. She felt that her brothers in arms had experienced something that created a bond almost more immense than that which she shares with her people, for even if her people *believe* in the depths of good, evil and chaos that stem from this world, her fellow warriors have seen it. After peace was reached within Dara she returned home for a short time and petitioned her case for their dealings in Dara. She was granted permission and has been establishing and assisting all Sons activity in Dara ever since. The Sons do not have laws regarding the sexual activities or unions of their people or Priestess. She has had her fair share of companions and lovers but has never been married and has never been blessed with a child. The latter is not rare, for conception is not a guarantee among the Elven kind.

Psychological Profile

The effects of trauma ring differently for everyone. Upon her first glance at the monstrosities they faced she grew even more reverent in the beliefs. She took Cyrabassis as proof that the story of Noteyalis and all of the ancient teachings they had collected were true. She had lost much of her innocence in the womb of the mangrove, but outside of the mangrove she had lost her faith. While Pykas may have ripped the last piece of innocence, he restored her faith to the degree that she no longer required it. She knew it was true. It was as if Noteyalis herself had sat down at her dinner table and confirmed the truth.

Her personality had always been judgmental and reserved. She spoke little and listened always and read between the lines of what people truly meant. She preferred the empty night sky to the light of the day, and the light of the moon trumped all. She was not the type to over indulge, but she would dabble in all of life experiences. While her occupation was religious it was an often made mistake to take her as from the same mold of other religions, but it would be a mistake to believe that the Sons based their practices on the morality of men. Many mistook her silent nature for something else, but in truth her mind was constantly obsessing or contemplating over something.

Equipment

• Bagh Nakh – claw gauntlets. A traditional weapon of the Choachyte.
• Collection of tomes and grimoires located in the depths of the mangrove tree. As of now the books are mostly indecipherable and useless despite the lore held within.

Titles/Holdings/Power Base

• High Priestess of Somnus of Noteyalis, oft referred to as the Sons. The religious group is rather secretive and membership is dictated (95% of the time) by familial relations. Some members, including Amunet, are openly aligned, but the majority of practitioners are only assumed. The group not only manages religious services with its members but also plays host to political and economic functions in and out of the membership. She has strong stakes in the dealings of her followers within Dara, where many of them do not reside full time, playing a sort of proxy for their business endeavors. It is important to note that their moral code is not the same as the majority of Dara’s population; some of their dealings are seen as less than savory, and on occasion illegal. The convulsion of ownership is diluted within the membership so it makes it difficult to assign responsibility, both legally and morally, if ever the City State chose to do so.
• The majority of Sons communications are less than formal and take place within the homes of the members, though in the case of a crisis, birth, death, union or other ceremonial need they do have a ‘temple’. It is located 9 km outside of town towards Choachyte, but then one must turn off the main road at the ambiguous mangrove root wrapped about a large dark stone and south towards stream another 5km south. The temple, like those in Choachyte, are hidden within the natural surroundings and do not boast impressive architecture, or really any architecture for that matter. The place of worship consists of underground caverns which form a maze. If one should be able to navigate the maze they would be able to locate a library, a handful of ceremonial rooms and a dormitory of sorts.
• They have a strong history of trading favors; and are well respected for upholding their ends of agreements and inflicting suffering upon those who do not do the same. Once a person has lost favor they are essential black listed from any dealing with the Sons. While this may not seem relevant to some there is a large amount of knowledge held within their books, including black mail on many prominent families and influential people. There are rumors that the Sons have been involved in the death of more than one Dara resident; though the witness’ accounts are frail and the motive is usually as convoluted as their ownership.
• Amunet’s family has long held a place amongst the representatives of Choachyte and without a doubt her family expects her to take accountability if ever her Father and Brother can no longer bare the honor. This also extends to maintaining their hold on the secrets and collections of the Sons, as well as tending to the economic holdings of the clan along with the other family heads.
• She was also accompanied by 2 Silent Elven guards, being that she was of high importance in their aristocracy protection was never a question or a compromise, it was a given. The lifestyle of the guards is defined at a young age when an Elven man or woman, usually of a lower class, decides to enroll in training. The training is vigorous, as it is with most chosen Elven disciplines, and cuts the child off from their family and friends. Their support and family becomes those around them, uniting them. At the age of 16 the Elven guards in training are again allowed the free will choice of leaving the guards in favor of another lifestyle or continuing with their training. It is at this point that those who take the vow are given to the ceremonial masters. The training from this point until their release at the age 20 is undisclosed, even to Amunet. When they are full members of the guard they voluntarily remove their tongue as a symbol of obedience and silence.

Relationships

• WIP