Blood Act~ Lore /CS Thread

[Frettzo]

Sannids

Name:
Sannids

Average lifespan:
70-75 Years

Brief description:









Ever since the Great Migration, the Sannids have been a small, tight-knit civilization who care not about where they are, but who they are with. In the average Sannid mind, being alone and a stranger means one of two things. You've either been banished from your home, or you're a traveler who seeks to find a soul mate in a distant town, hence the way in which Sannids react to aloof, straight-to-the-point strangers and foreigners--by treating them with suspicion and cold eyes.

Despite this, their towns are humble and open to any visitor, with small huts, establishments and one City Hall for all events. While the architecture is not impressive in its own right, their culture sure is. One night a week, Sannids gather around a great campfire in the town centre to celebrate. The reason for the celebration? Being alive. Such celebration nights are commonly referred to by locals as "Nights of Warmth", due to the great deal of heat that one can feel around the campfire and the dancing couples.

Food served in the celebration is scarce and counted, given out by assigned members of the community, but the drinks, the drinks vary wildly. From simple water to complex cocktails of fruits, herbs, homemade alcohol and alchemical powders.

Late into the night, the locals share stories both of horror and love, of action and suspense. They confess to their partners or form small groups of friends, who usually end up as hunter/scavenger groups.

While such Nights of Warmth are the sole reason tourists visit their towns and villages, some curious Sannids venture from town to town as they look for a mate to spend the rest of their lives with. Once they find the partner they are looking for, they either settle down or choose to travel as a couple. Most choose to keep travelling, since the travelling one often wishes to see what else the world has to offer. Time catches up to them and they eventually have to settle down, though, which forces them to live out the rest of their lives as a family in communities far from their actual home.

Sannids have a deep desire for romantic relationships ever since they enter adulthood, and such desires interfere with how they interact with the gender of their preference, usually finding it difficult to be even the slightest bit rude to them or saying something that they believe would be too outrageous or bold.

Due to their constant search for a partner, they get into relationships and get out of them very quickly. Sometimes the relationships can last as little as a week and never more than a month, and when they do last past the month, the partners are often too attached to each other to easily let go.

Having no organized government or army, their settlements would be at the mercy of bandits and raiders were it not for the glorious, gracious and generous armies of Sh-Kiit, who even when they have problems in their homeland, spare a few soldiers to protect the settlements for a small tax fee.

Location:
A series of small settlements on the frontier between Claine and Sh-Kiit. Most towns and villages are located near rivers.

Mageblood Rate:
6% Of the total population is estimated to have Mageblood, and there's only about 10.000 Sannids, so that'd be about 600.

Strengths:

- Heightened senses of Smell and Hearing: They are a canine species, even if their life at the desert has dulled their advantage somewhat the last two generations. They're below wolves and above humans.

- Souls of the Party: Attending to parties and celebrations every week since they're born, almost every single Sannid is a force to be reckoned with at parties. Whether it is at a drunken brawl, making friends or flirting with people, they've got whole lives of experience to back them up.

- Seduction is commonplace, and outside of their tight-knit communities, the most clever and adaptable of the Sannids will use their expertise to achieve what they wish.

Weaknesses:

- Sannids need affection. Whether it is romance, friendship or flirting, they simply can't live comfortably without it. When a person shows them some affection (e.g. A compliment or a hug), they instantly think better of the person. It only has to be believable for the Sannid to slowly grow loyal to the person, and it goes to a point that the Sannid will no longer question the person at all and they'll carry out most tasks that they ask of them. Of course, a friend would not be able to ask as much of them as a lover could.

- Isolation and not being able to smell, see or hear a friendly nearby instantly scares them, especially if the friendly they were with was someone they admire or love. Sometimes the fear turns into panic, which in turn is a double edged sword. Depending on the situation, they might make a terrible mistake or put their all on their action and be alive to later celebrate a Night of Warmth.

- Having no armies of their own, it is somewhat rare to find a Sannid Warrior by Profession. Not many Sannids know how to lead organized operations, and even less have been Soldiers by Profession. Even being a part of organized operations becomes difficult when there's not a person who holds their hand and teaches them the ropes.

Other:

- Most Sannid females choose to wear light, somewhat revealing clothing along with nearly professional makeup whenever they can in order to attract the opposite sex more often. The males do not care much about their appearance, but polish their personalities and manners to a point in which females will be drawn in to them.

- Loneliness is a feeling that Sannids can not stand, and they do their best to avoid it. By making sure that they're desired, loved and that they've got a companion at their side, they feel at ease.

[Frettzo]

Lian

UserName:
Frettzo

Character name:
Lian, Firstborn of Lon.

Age:
23

Mageblood type:
Natura.

Favoured Magic Class:
Herbamancy.

Previous Magic training:
He knows of his mageblood, not much else.

Race:
Sannid.

Appearance:

(I claim no ownership of the picture, rights go to its respective owner.)

A nearly pureblooded Sannid, Lian stands proudly at 5'10 and 175 lbs. His bloodlines have granted him with a pure coat colour as well as a naturally strong and agile build that even though is not very unique or outstanding, it does put him well above average in the looks department with nearly no active effort on his part. He usually wears an attire commonly related to hunters and scavengers, which combines light, comfortable armour with textiles and normal clothes.

Short Bio:
Lian, Firstborn of Lon. Lon, the most active of the hunters and the most loyal of the husbands in the small town of Fang. Upon birth, everyone expected him to walk as early as his ninth month, and after his Father forced him enough, he fulfilled the expectations.

He spent his first and second years clinging to his mother, a short and stocky female with a bright orange coat and long bushy tail. After his grey coat of fur was shed, he was shown to the town as a continuation of the pure lineage of the hunter family Lon and now Lian were a part of. Their bright orange furs, sharp teeth and friendly faces akin to a trademark among the town's inhabitants.

The next few years, he spent playing around with other kits and learning the ropes of hunting and scavenging from his Father. While Lon was by no means the best hunter, he did have a lot of practice, and his teachings would time and time again save Lian's life when he'd miss a spear throw in the coming years.

When he became of age and started feeling attracted to the opposite sex, his Father found him speaking to more and more females, and knowing the signs, he interrupted his socialization many times to talk to him and teach him how he was to talk to girls and how he should treat them, so that one day he could meet a female as good as his mother.

Every week since he was born, he had attended to the Nights of Warmth, and ever since he had become an adult, he had always found a way to end up hooking up.

the flames of his life were kindled as soon as a foreign traveler came into their humble town, though. Behind him was a dunce pulling a wooden cart, and in the cart, were plants. A rare sight, surely, as they lived more on the desert side of the river that kept them alive. Most of the families bought one plant in exchange of a favour to the merchant, and Lian's family's was an exotic red rose.

Safe to say that the next Night of Warmth, he had been taking care of the flower while he thought of which girl he was going to give it to. Suddenly, the rose was bigger. Not by a lot, but it was certainly bigger. And slowly, it shrinked back to its original size, petals twisting ever so gently and naturally.

The next day he had spoken to his father, Lon, who was quick to send him off to the so-called Twilight College. Accompanied by two other mageblood gifted males and each of them wearing the traditional hunter outfit along with a thick fur coat, they were released from the town and into the road.

Weeks passed and they, after enduring the cold winter which became colder and harsher each day and each mile further up north, have finally arrived at the College.

Good Attributes:

- Hunter/Scavenger: Since he was old enough to hold a spear, Lian's been a part of hunting and scavenging parties. Either looking for prey or just going through ruins or caves to find useful items and materials, he's developed his body to be agile and silent as well as perceptive.

- Having once been a noble Sh-Kiitian's partner, he was taught how to read by the girl. He's not fluid or especially quick at reading, but he's able to understand the words, and that's what counts.

- A confident stance, voice and movements take him a long way. Like many other Sannids, he's spent all of his teenager and adult years by wooing the opposite sex, quite succesfully in fact, thanks to the "lessons" given to him by his father.

- Being a party animal since he could walk, he's one of the best drunken brawlers you'll see out of Sannid settlements, as well as the person most likely to take the active role in meeting new people.

Bad Attributes:

- Unskilled at craftmen's abilities, he has a very tough time improvising items.

- Sometimes, it is more important to chase a girl than to focus on the more pressing matters. A criminal needs to be banished from the town? That can wait, because I notice that woman looking over here!

- Poor kit's way too easy to manipulate should the female he's chasing be mischievous enough to do so.

- Afraid of the feeling of being forced to do something, he often tries to avoid being put on the spot, giving out excuses when confronted as to why he usually escapes from huge responsibilities.

Secret Word:
Rebirth.

[Konan375]

UserName: Konan375

Character name: Darius Jura

Age: 32

Mageblood type: Clima

Favoured Magic Aeromancy

Previous Magic training: Has no clue he has mageblood.

Race: Yarosmerian

Appearance:

Standing at 6’5”, Darius is a large man with broad shoulders. His dark skin is marred by many scars from battles he has had. The largest being a scar that extends from his right shoulder down to his left hip. He has a broad nose that has been noticeably broken and left unprepared several times. His eyes are brown, and he has short black hair.

Weapons:

Sword

Dagger

Short Bio: Darius was born in Porti, the Market centre of Shanna. He had a normal childhood, playing with friends in the streets. When he was old enough, he joined the army. He started out as a grunt, which he loathed to no extent. Being told what to do was something that Darius did not like at all, and it had caused some fights when he didn’t like what he was being told to do. Quickly, though, his fights were quickly quelled by his superiors. The Shannian army had some rather harsh punishments for violent behaviour against other fellow soldiers. While it did stop Darius from fighting, it didn't stop him from hating being told what to do in the way his superiors did.

Years passed, and Darius moved up in the ranks, despite his earlier fights against the people that told him what to do. He earned some extra money in some pit fights when times were slow. Had had won some battles, and lost some, and he had gained a multitude of scars from his battles. He had made friends and enemies. One day, he was picked as part of the group that would go up to a mage college that he had never heard of and protect the people that represented Shanna.

Good Attributes: Strong, proficient sword fighter and hand-to-hand combatant. If anything, Darius is a good soldier, and he works well with others if he has to, and if he needs to, he can lead people quite well. He's patient when teaching others about sword fighting and hand-to-hand fighting.

Bad Attributes: Arrogant, bigoted, and loud. He has a short temper, and he hates being talked down to. If he doesn't have to work with someone out of necessity, he won't. Respect is a hard thing to get from Darius, and very few people have earned it.

Secret Word: Rebirth

[WitchChild]

Name: Zhuandii

Average Lifespan: 130-150 years

Physical Description: The average male Zhaundii reaches up to 5'8" in height with anything above 6 feet being rather rare while the average female is usually 5'6". Most Zhuandii are slender in build with flexible webbing that reaches to their last finger joint to allow fast swimming. On their necks they possess gills which make them capable of breathing underwater though they are also capable of breathing surface air. Their skin come in various colors though mostly in shades of blue, grey and green. Their almond shaped eyes are somewhat larger than that of humans and come in various colors as well such as green, blue, purple and a rare shade of orange. They decorate their skins with swirling tattoos similar to vortexes or pictures of magnificent serpents of the sea or even dragons. On their forearms and calf are very short fins similar to that of a shark and a rare breed of Zhuandii possess two of them on their backs that can be folded and allow them to glide when they launch themselves from the water at high speeds. Their hair is often straight and brushed back or to either side but decorated with shells or even very colorful feathers and coins as the Zhuandii are very fond of bright colors and shiny objects.
Despite their slender appearance, Zhuandii are deceptively tough and strong, possibly the fastest swimmers of humanoids in existence without magical aid, capable of launching themselves up into the air from the water and onto a ship.
Zhuandii are probably the only race with the highest number of natural born hermaphrodites (Not due to genetical error) in the world and those are very are to distinct to either gender.
The facial features are often smooth with a small nose and a tight lipped mouth. The skin on their scalp is often darker than that of the rest of their skin and it sometimes trails off down the neck and back along the spine or the entire upper body. Their ears are pointed and fin like and very acute when underwater. Their eyes are better in the darkness as they swim in deep waters and dark caves and can be rather sensitive to bright flashes.
Zhuandii language is often a high frequency speech that passes easily through water so when they learn other languages, they are extremely accented and sometimes don't say what they actually mean. This however makes their voice very melodic and often times even soothing to the ear.
Zhuandii often cannot tolerate hot and dry atmospheres so they avoid those at all cost. Their biology demands more moisture as dry skin is of great annoyance to a Zhuandii and when dry for long enough time will cause sores.

Culture Description: The culture of the Zhuandii is based on that of a council with five heads. Due to the fact that the Zhuandii and the Naga don't see eye to eye, the Zhuandii are a united people and rarely go to war with each other.
They are however very fascinated with the surface world. When they first migrated into other cultures of people, they first fell in love with the fabrics, the food and the shinies though no one can say which order it was in. They adore cooked food as they used to eat fish raw underneath the waves. They picked up cooking and music-making very quickly and some even desire to apprentice as a jeweler though it is hard for a Zhuandii as they are often unconsciously kleptomanic for shiny object. Many a fisherman have been a victim to the theft of their shiny fish bait by Zhuandii children.
Most Zhuandii settlements are in underwater caves and grottos where the people can easily defend and feel safe.
Often a favored weapon among the Zhuandii are the bow, a hook and the spear. Since they often hunt dangerous and fast prey underneath the sea, they use hooks to latch onto their prey that retaliate such as sharks that charge at them. Their weapons are often noticeable as they are made by fine crafted whale bones. It wasn't until they migrated to other cultures did they wield iron forged weapons. It's not uncommon to find a Zhuandii with a whale bone hook at their hip, a particularly wealthy Zhuandii wielding a hook of bloodsea iron.
The main export that the Zhuandii contribute to the overall world is a certain kind of paste made from deep sea herbs which they make to maintain dental and oral hygiene. Because of this, toothaches are very rare among the Zhuandii. Other exports include fish and sea creature hides/Scales and rather recent in history, jewels and pearls.
The currency that the Zhuandii use in trade is mostly pearls and gems, mostly aquamarine.
Due to their light sensitivity, the Zhuandii usually wear tinted spectacles.

Average Good Traits: Low-Light Vision = They are very capable in dark environments but they can't seen in absolute darkness.
Underwater Breathing
Deceptively Strong = Although they look slender, The average Zhuandii have enough leg power to launch themselves out of the water and high enough to land onto a schooner. They are not however going to punch through stone or break bones with a single arm until the bone juts out of the skin
Amazing swimmers
Melodic Voice

Average Bad Traits: Sensitivity to light : Bright flashes will cause temporary blindness and even average lighting causes squinting.
May be overly inquisitive to the point of annoyance
Kleptomaniacs
More need for moisture and hydration than human.
Occasionally hard to understand in speech or they might find hard to understand others' speech.
Clumsy in a cluttered terrain

Hrollf Whales

Hrollf whales are dangerous hunters of the waves with no natural predator, making it an apex predator of the sea that hunts mostly alone but there have been cases of a team of Hrollf whales actually working together against larger whales or even land seals or such animals before sliding onto the shore to devour them. The average size of a male Hrollf is 9 to 11 meters in length and 7 tons in weight while the average female is that of 6-9 meters and weighing 6 tons or even 5.5 tons, both of them have a dorsal fin that reaches up to 2 meters.

The appearance of the Hrollf whale has been described as non-threatening similar to a dolphin. Their hide usually comes in black with rare cases of deep blue, both having a white underbelly. A very distinct feature however of the Hrollf Whale is a white star on their foreheads. Although not every star is the same, most of them possess this star shaped mark on their heads, giving the nick name "Star Whales". Their snouts is similar to that of a dolphin but stouter filled with sharp teeth.

Hrollf Whale bones

Bones of the Hrollf whale are very durable and flexible which is the reason why they are mostly used for weapons among the Zhuandii. Although not as tough as steel or even iron, they share qualities to that of bronze. It's also used to make gorgeous and durable ivory.

Bloodsea Iron

A peculiar mineral found on certain seabeds of the world. The mineral is forged into ingots of either iron like quality or steel depending on the forger. It's much harder to gain steel like quality but when it happens, the mineral takes on a beautiful sheen of red similar to that of blood and the pattern in makes is reminiscent to that of sea waves. Although not much more durable than steel, this metal is however much more resistant to rusting than most other common metals. It's however no more resistant to decay magic than any other. Might take longer but the difference is minuscule.
However, this mineral is very hard to obtain due to the lack mine building in the sea and there for is rare.

Rovo goo

Rovo goo is what the Zhuandii call the paste which they make to tend their oral hygiene. It has a distinct pink color and a peculiar texture which most do not quite like. The taste of it is extremely sweet which may put people off but is incredibly delicious to the Zhuandii people.

Zhuandii Rovo makers and healers instruct people to use Rovo goo at least every other day and let it dissolve in their mouths which should take about 10 minutes and not eat or drink anything for an hour afterwards. This will cause tooth aches and oral infections to lessen as well as make teeth seem more pearly white.

The zhuandii people also tried to instruct people to let a certain seabed slug in their mouths to eat up any food remnants which would further enhance oral cleanliness but it has mostly been unsuccessful due to the "ickyness" of it and the fact that swallowing the slug would cause it to eat through the stomach and cause very serious health issues.

[yoshua171]

Rheven-ari

Alternate Names: Reven or Revenants.

Average Lifespan: Due to them living largely in the shadows of society, most Rheven'ari survive for at least 100 or 200 years. However, they are capable of living for immense lengths of time. The oldest Revenant lived so long that they were unable to remember her age, which was at least in the thousands by then.

Brief description: Bearing a humanoid guise, but inhuman minds, the Rheven-ari have legs with two joints—a knee and a joint like the leg of a dog which reverses in direction and leads to their ankle. Standing anywhere between 5'9 and 6'8 they are roughly human sized in height, though their frame is decidedly thinner than that of a human. They are lithe like elves, and possess a cunning rivaled by few and surpassed by even fewer. A notable fault is the muscular strength of the Rheven-ari, which tends to start either the same as a human's strength or somewhere below such.

Beyond this the Rheven-ari are fairly neglible in their traits unless one looks to their classes, the Shayahn and Vridurhi Reven, each of which have their own specific flaws and abilities. Nonetheless, the Rheven-ari are a fairly reclusive people, with a small population in comparison to the other races. They almost solely inhabit the isolated Midnight Island where they stay, only sending members of their kind into the world here and there for the sake of trade and to keep themselves up to date with the ever changing Tiien.

Likely the most common place to see them is at Twilight Academy where they often frequent for new magical knowledge, or even to learn from the masters of other races. They possess only two holdings, known as Shayl Kharath and Vria'dur Kharath. Foreigners, while not shunned from their land, are welcomed tremulously and with well placed wariness as the bacteria, and thus sickness or disease, that they could bring might devastate their population.

They are a cautious lot, but also an adventurous one. Oddly contradictory ideals held within a largely individual focused culture. Such is simply the way of the strange and enigmatic Rheven-ari, and it will continue to be as long as they exist.

Location: Almost solely found on Midnight Island off the coast of Naerse.

Mage blood rate: 90% Though their birthrates are hardly as high.

Status- Player created- yoshua171

Racial information

Revenant

The Origin of this mysterious species is largely unknown however, what the legends say is that the Rheven-ari have some kind of relation to the Nox. The gods, if you could contact them, would tell you that they emerged from it during the world's reconstruction following the Nuclear war. Sadly, even they have forgotten what it was that got the Reven sent there at all.

Though the Chessmaster...or the Wild might remember.

Culture and Society

Government

The Rheven-ari, almost since their emergence from the Nox, they have separated themselves into two general classes: The Shayahn and Vridurhi. While the two work with one another and neither are technically the ruling class, there is something of a rift between them. Over time their differences have only grown and while they have not yet, they one day may split off from one another and attempt life separated. Nonetheless that day is not soon in the coming and as things are this is how the Rheven-ari structure their society.

The Shayahn are the workers, light bringers, and travelers of the Reven, they gather food and materials for what is referred to as the Shayl Kharath. Shayl Kharath is the visible portion of their capital city, but it is by no means the largest, which is impressive considering its size. Beneath Shayl Karath and expanding deeper and deeper underground by the day, is Vria'dur Kharath, an underground metropolis of sorts, composed of smoothed curving tunnels, and literally hundreds of interconnected cities.

Within each city there is a centralized government. Shayl Kharath's citizens, rather than being ruled by a king or queen, is run by eight distinct families. While these families rule the city and dictate the duties of the citizenry, they are also the most likely to head out into the world, an action which is generally dictated by the Vridurhi council of elders. It is in this way that the two classes work together for the Rheven families and the Vridurhi council dictate eachother's actions with precision and a mind for the better of the whole. The Rheven families take care of procuring materials, both from the outside world and their island. They also oversee the preparation of these materials as well as the defense of Shayl Kharath, though if an attack were to fall upon the Rheven-ari both the families and the elder council would work in unison to defend their people.

The families and their duties are as follow:

The Ginoirh Family are known for their exceptional hunting and tracking skills. As such they are primarily in charge of procuring meats as well as preparing them. This proximity to animals makes them especially resilient against sickness and disease. They tend to have somewhat rough personalities, and a generally blunt nature. They are often described as ruthless and passionate. While these traits are not widely considered as desirable, they can be helpful when tempered by the naturally intelligent mind of the average Reven. While not as experienced as the Zraimat family in regards to war, they are still considered strong warriors and as such are respected in that area as well. The Ginoirh are also rather crude and without much tact, at the same time they are known for the brutal honesty and steadfast loyalty to allies. They are true to their word in almost any situation and most would say that a Ginoirh never breaks a promise.

The Jayhali Family are known for their architectural abilities, making them mostly in charge of the buildings of Shayl Kharath. They maintain, renovate, and add new buildings, or oversee the process of such. Every so often, a member of the Jayhali family will travel out into the world to observe the developing architecture and infrastructure of the world to obtain notable schematics and information regarding such. Partially a result from their trade, the Jayhali Family have an almost innate sense for the weaknesses and layout of both cities and buildings in general. They have a good sense of direction in cities, though they lack such outside of them. Furthermore, due to their architectural trade the Jayhali have incredible awareness of spatial relations, making it easy for them to navigate in a location they have only seen once. If they've seen it more than that then it's likely they could do so with their eyes closed. Members of the Jayhali are confident in themselves, for the most part, and while observant, they are not overly calculative unless talking about structures. Instead they are quite cheerful individuals most of the time, and especially so when pursuing, or discussing, their passion for building. Last, but not least, while Jayhali cannot navigate the natural world as well as cities, they can easily determine the general stability of natural structures almost purely through contact and visual observation. They are said to have close relatives in the Vridurhi class, allowing them less synesthesia, and more vibratory senses—thus aiding their ability to understand structure and stability quite well.

The Dhurmaea Family specialize in medicines as well as the tending to, or gathering of, plants for consumption. As such they oversee agriculture and act as the doctors for both Shayl Kharath and Vria'dur Kharath. They are one of the few Shayahn families to also dwell underground, causing them to, in some ways, be looked down upon. Their kind crossbreed more often than the other families and their bodies are extremely resistant to illness due to their purpose in the civilization. They are well known for the kindness, but also their ability to ignore social stigma or bad relations in the interest of the whole. This makes them largely impartial in their mentality and they are commonly thought of as a neutral party when it comes to the politics of the Rheven-ari.

The Nayrgrana Family are the merchants and bankers of the Rheven-ari. They are amazingly good with numbers and math. This, if they were born Vridurhi, would make them incredibly good scientists. Nonetheless, the Nayrgrana prefer to fill their coffers and trade fine wares. Their immune systems are average for Rheven-ari, aside from their 'couriers' who have incredible immune systems. The main branch of the Nayrgrana never come within a certain radius of foreign species, including sentients, instead they train their couriers very well, and send them into the world to take part in trades. As such, the world sees couriers far more often then they do the actual merchants of the Nayrgrana family. Due to their strong grasp of economical concepts the Nayrgrana are known for being rather cold and calculative. However, contrary to popular belief, they are not greedy, and instead choose to use their ample funds to support the entirety of their race. As a byproduct they have ample political support from a vast majority of the citizenry, making them a powerful force in family meetings. Oddly, while somewhat cold in their nature, members of the Nayrgrana family are not unsympathetic and are quick to sympathize, or even empathize with people. It is the manner by which they do so which makes them strange, rather than console people with kind words, the Nayrgrana are firm realists and will give objective advice to people in regards to handling situations. How others take their cold advice is not their concern.

The Yael-ghari Family are the craftsman of the Rheven-ari, specializing in the creation of tools and weaponry. They are not however, typically considered inventors. Instead, the Yael-ghari specialize in the near perfect construction of almost anything displayed to them. Their sense of touch is heightened and linked with their sight, displaying their unique synesthesia. This allows them to discern the structure of make of things that they touch. Even a blind Yael-ghari would be capable of identifying an object through touch and would be able to intimately understand the nature and purpose of an object in their hands. They are quick witted and quick to judge a person's character. Nonetheless, they care little for the physical appearance of themselves or others as long as they do not appear utterly haggard or slovenly. They are hard workers and while they are not widely liked or disliked among the people, the Yael-ghari's services are appreciated, even if they are sometimes very particular in regards to the price of their wares.

The Sanaei Family are the tailors and seamstresses of the Reven. They are also often the closest to the citizens, due to their kindness, hospitality, and generous nature. They clothe essentially everyone, or teach them how to clothe themselves. They have the least interest in political power and influence, but ironically are widely considered the voice of the people due to being so closely related to them. Nonetheless, their status is considered the lowest of the families due to this same closeness. However, much to the chagrin of some of the other houses, particularly the Nayrgrana and Zraimat families, their close relationship with the citizenry totally overshadows their low status. This makes their word equal to that of the aforementioned due to it largely representing those they rule. Members of the Sanaei are typically well mannered and tolerant. They possess an almost endless patience, and are probably the most empathetic of the families. They prefer simple lives and will remain calm in almost any situation. Their immune systems are slightly below the average for a Shayahn Reven due to them hardly ever leaving the island.

The Tendar-vikal Family are the warriors, the soldiers, and the military of the Rheven. They have handed down militaristic traditions for the duration of their race's existence. Oddly, they are not considered as able in the area of strategy and tactics as the Zraimat Family. Their skills are rather straightforwards, and due to their love of combat they, every two years, host two tournaments, one on Midnight Island, and another on foreign soil. This second tournament has only been created recently, specifically in the last ten years, meaning that it's only happened five times to date and thus is still not widely known throughout the world. Their relationship with the people is somewhat tremulous, and their say in meetings is...often questioned. The Tendar-vikal are closely related to Yael-ghari and the Elder council as well as the Zraimat family. They vary greatly in mentality.

The Zraimat Family is one of the smallest, but simultaneously well known family. They are enigmatic in nature and their purpose is less defined then the other seven families. They are primarily considered a go-between for the Rheven Families and the Elder Council, putting them in a very powerful position. They are the organizers, they are the teachers, they are the tacticians and strategists, allowing them, in some situations, to overrule the decisions of the other families. Oddly, the Zraimat Family are also in charge of the religious aspect of life. Much to the chagrin of several of the other families, the Zraimat have both the support of the public, and the status of the other well known families. While it is the Vridurhi who manage the keeping of the race's records and information, as well as the scientific advancements of their kind, it is the Zraimat family who administrates and spreads this knowledge through their school, libraries, and the uncommon temple. Those of the Zraimat are exceptionally intelligent, considered some of the most intelligent among the Rheven-ari, which is saying something. They are less partial to the time that they function, and oddly they can be born with a myriad of abilities from either biological classification. They are never born with more or less weaknesses or strengths than the primary classifications though.

---

The Four Sets

Vanas Set

When issues need be discussed by the families, a gathering is held in the center of Shayl Kharath. It is called the Vanas Set, or 'Open Debate,' and is one of the four methods that the Rheven-ari utilize to solve problems. The Vanas Set is employed specifically when a larger issue is presented to the families and none of them can solve it on their own, but the Elder Council does not deem their involvement necessary.

There is an open square the center of Shayl Kharath, typically used as a marketplace, which is cleared out when the Vanas Set is held. If possible a notice is sent out one or two weeks in advance and so the majority of the Shayahn are notified of the event. When it comes time for it to be held, the four representatives from each family—except the Zraimat family, who only sends one. These individuals are known as the Set-reven. Upon their arrival they take their places on a single massive raised dais in the center of the square. The twenty-nine Set-reven sit upon chairs placed upon the dais with each chair facing the back of the next. The seats are always placed sideways facing clockwise and spiraling inwards to the central chair where a member of the Zraimat family will sit.

By then the marketplace will have filled with the citizenship, crowding the buildings, and pushing for a place closer to the dais. The square is so large that it can fit hundreds upon hundreds of people, but because of this few are able to hear the ongoing discussion held upon the dais. To aid the transmission several mages with the Blood of Aeromancy in their veins are placed in strategic locations throughout the crowd. Through their deft manipulation of air and the sound waves that travel through it, the Aeromancers transmit the voices of the Set-reven to the entire square while silencing the noise of the crowd to barely a hum. If the majority becomes aggravated by a decision, they are forced to make their complaint known throughout the entire square to break the barrier of air which quiets them. In this way, the Rheven-ari may make fair conclusions, even though coming to those conclusions may take more time than usual.

The crowd is typically listened to, but in rare circumstances the Zraimat will overrule their calls. These occurrences are exceedingly uncommon, and the Zraimat is always forced to explain why they came to such a decision.

Khriial Set

When an issue is one that the families must resolve within their circle alone, they gather within a chamber below Shayl Kharath. Here the families gather, again sending four representatives, by the same name –Set-reven—who are watched closely by four members of the Elder council and a single member of the Zraimat family. These meetings are called Khriial Set, meaning 'Closed Debate' in the common tongue. Khriial Set are held when matters regarding a particular family, or their purpose, must be answered and the voice of the people will not assist in the solving of the issue. These meetings can take quite a while, and so they will usually happen at set intervals during a set period of time at the end of which a solution must be found.

If the families cannot come to a more or less mutual agreement, the four elders will step in and cease to simply offer their wisdom, and will instead make a decision. Only a ruling of one third the participants, excluding the Zraimat, can partially overrule the elders forcing them to make slight modifications to the ruling. If half, or more, of the participants overrule the elders then the decision is modified by the families in tangent with the elders. If all parties overrule the elders, then the Zraimat will call upon the grand elder or ask the citizenry to choose three Set-reven amongst themselves and send them down.

The three citizens will look over the previously presented solutions and choose two or three of them. The Elders will then review them and choose to remove one, after which the families will vote on the one they prefer, and so the process will end.

Hhay'en Ashar

Translating to the 'Veiled Council,' this problem solving method hands the problem off to the Elder council, which grows every few generations as new Reven become old enough to be considered as candidates. Typically only Vridurhi Reven are chosen, but every so often Zraimat or other Shayahn Reven are chosen. Nonetheless, the Hhay'en Ashar is not held often and involves a secretive meeting between the Zraimat family and the Elder Council. The Zraimat will deliver the issue, which must first fail to be solved by the families amongst themselves or during the Vanas Set. Some issues will be rushed to the Elder Council before this, but these issues do not happen often and must be of such importance that the Elders are immediately required.

It is largely unknown what the Elders do when holding the Hhay'en Ashar and only select members of the Zraimat family have ever attended unless a member from another family is called of course. Nonetheless, those who have taken part in the Hhay'en Ashar are sworn to absolute secrecy and so it is considered an almost hallowed subject. In some ways it is taboo to even speak of it, nonetheless there are rumors aplenty regarding what the Elder Council does during these.

Nonetheless, the decision made during Hhay'en Ashar are almost always the right ones and so the process is not greatly questioned. The people largely trust the Zraimat family to keep the Elders in line, and as they are so well respected even by the Shayahn Reven, little worry is ever directed in regards to the result of a Veiled Council.

Nitsuri Ashar

A form of council wherein the Elders leave the confines of their underground home, the Nitsuri Ashar, or Summer Council, is always held in the warmth of summer during the day. These gatherings are held between the Elder Council and the Citizenry and take place upon the crest of a hill to the west of Shayl Kharath's center. The Elder council will declare the goings on in Vria'dur Kharath during this time, and the Shayahn of Shayl Kharath will be able to assist in the governance and problem solving of their subterranean brothers. These councils are held for the benefit of Vria'dur Kharath, and to assist in unifying the people. Additionally, the chieftains of Vria'dur Kharath's many underground cities will briefly assemble, declaring their thoughts as to how to improve life in shayl Kharath.

The Nitsuri Ashar are akin to both festivals and political events. Food is served, dancing and singing is done, but business is also taken care of. In this way the two classes are unified and find ways to assist each other. This also assists in maintaining and reinforcing the respect and trust that the Shayahn place in the Elder Council. It is an essential event indeed.

---

While these are the methods utilized by the Shayahn Reven, the Vridurhi are less centralized in their governance with the exception of the Elder Council. Instead of families, the Vridurhi cities each have a chieftain of sorts, along with a citizen council. The two hold roughly equal power and keep one another along the right track. If things become unbalanced or out of sorts the Elder Council or the Zraimat family can be called upon to offer advice and an impartial mind to the decision making process.

This set of methodologies does well for the Rheven-ari as a race and makes sure that both classes maintain a high degree of both trust in one another and autonomy should it ever become necessary.

Racial Mentality

The Rheven-ari are individualists, plain and simple. They are also isolationists for the most part, as they tend to stay away from the rest of the world. They believe in the strength and intelligence of individuals, though they know the power that lies in numbers as well. Nonetheless, most Rheven-ari could be considered realists with a very logical outlook on life. They are not trusting of those outside of their race and largely consider the other races to be mentally inferior to themselves, though this is partially due to an inferiority complex in regards to their physical abilities. Most Reven also have an intense interest in knowledge and learning in general. Due to their largely superior minds, the Reven do not entirely understand how the minds of other mortals work, and as such they take to considering people as case studies. Some concepts go right over their head, but for the most part Rheven-ari are accepting and willing to listen. Sometimes they will even trade their services for the chance to learn new subjects. While, as mentioned, most Rheven-are like to think of themselves as mentally superior to the other races, they tend to look down on other sentient beings with a silent, and largely undetectable, disdain. If questioned regarding it they tend to either ignore the query or answer with an exceptionally long winded response, explaining the reasons behind their belief. Nonetheless the Rheven-ari tend to be helpful to their fellow man, assisting as long as they will be compensated with knowledge at the very least, as well as being fairly understanding of their actions.

Beliefs

When it comes to the religious tendencies and traditions of the Rheven-ari, they, as a whole, worship only one god and that god's name is Moltom. It is their firm belief that it was Moltom who created them in the days before the Great Loss, an event during which a wealth of knowledge was lost to the Rheven-ari. Few remember those days, and fewer know the truth of that terrible event. Beyond this the Rheven-ari are not an overly superstitious lot, though they are almost always very spiritual in nature.

Language

Arihn, their language, is composed primarily of soft sounds, with a fluid rhythm to it. The language is easy on the ears and does not have very many hard syllables, instead favoring softer pronunciations.

Working Vocabulary
Regularly updated.

Set- Debate or discussion typically involving a larger group of people.
Vanas-Open or receiving. Also relates to trust and the lack of keeping secrets. Empathic.
Shayahn-The name of one of the two classes, it means Light walker.
Vridurhi-The name of one of the two classes, it means Illuminated Shadow.
Shay-The Sun.
Shayl-Sunlight
Ahn-Light.
Rhi-Shadow.
Vridu-Illuminate, to bring light to.
Kharath-City.
Vria'dur-Shadow treading. To walk in shadow.
Nitsuri-Summer.
Ashar-Council.
Hhay'en-Veiled, or veil. That which is wreathed in mist. Refers to mysterious or partial unknowns.
Khriial-Closed. Without empathetic.

Physiology

Unlike the rest of their cells, which have a very high metabolic rate, Rheven-ari also possess a wealth of extremely low metabolism stem cells which are stored throughout their bodies. These cells remain in an essentially inactive state. These cells, in tangent with several other factors, bless them with extremely long life spans. However, these life spans are not entirely based on these cells or even their biology. In regards to Shayahn Reven, they possess these cells in addition to having a naturally higher resistance to many different illnesses that would otherwise endanger their lives. Additionally, their diet is typically more varied and full of nutrients, which keep them healthy and hardy. They are generally more prepared for the world than Vridurhi Reven.

On the other end of the spectrum are the Vridurhi Reven who tend to never encounter dangerous diseases due to staying on Midnight Island. In addition to this, the diet they partake in, a diet only possible due to the unique flora and fauna on Midnight Island, increases their likelihood of a long life. The reason for this is that the chemicals induce hormones that encourage their bodies to generate more of their specialized stemcells.

Lastly, Rheven-ari have cells which are able to continue conducting mitosis for periods of time far longer than most races, allowing them a lifespan that can possibly surpass even that of the oldest recorded Naga.

Moving on from their cellular workings, Rheven-ari are humanoid in their general skeletal structure and appearance though they possess traits which distinguish them. In particular, a Rheven-ari's legs resemble those of an Esyire; two key joints --knee joint and a second reversed joint connecting a second bone to the ankle. The feet of a Rheven-ari have a different shape, four forward facing toes and one heel mounted, backwards facing one, all with retractable claws. Their hands also possess these claws, which are typically around half an inch's length. Additionally, to protect their feet from rough or sharp objects, Rheven-ari possess thickened skin in that area, allowing them to walk with very little discomfort, if any. Small to medium sized rocks, even sharp ones, will not damage their feet or cause them much inconvenience allowing them to travel barefooted.

The circulatory system of Rheven-ari move at a heightened rate, caused not by a larger heart, but instead by their veins and arteries having smaller pumps with several heart analogues throughout. They have one heart, considered the central hub, in the center of their torso beneath their slightly longer and more efficient lungs. They have much smaller (about 1/4th the size) organs at each corner of their torso each shielded by extensions from the pelvis and ribcage respectively. These bones do not have many gaps between them, unlike those found in most other humanoid races, and are instead more like solid plates with needle thin spaces between them. While these plate-like ribcages protect their lungs and 'hearts' more effectively than those of other races, they can be shattered by blunt force. If this occurs it is much more likely to kill the Rheven-ari than it would be to kill a member of another race. It should be noted that all Rheven-ari will experience altitude sickness roughly two times as quickly as a human would.

It should be noted that while the Rheven-ari have more than one 'heart', they will likely be permanently bedridden, or crippled, of their central heart is permanently damaged. Taking out 3 of their four other 'hearts' will likely cause death and taking out the central heart in addition to 1 other 'heart' will also likely cause death. Additionally, due to the increased speed of their blood flow, Rheven-ari are more likely to die from blood loss than humans.

As mentioned prior there are two varieties of Rheven-ari: Shayahn Reven, and Vridruhi Reven.

As the name suggests Vridurhi Reven operate primarily during the night hours. They have adapted to suit these habits and possess exceptional night vision. However, due to living mostly underground their skin burns from sunlight much easier than the Shayahn Reven or even humans. In terms of musculature, Vridurhi Reven have are weaker than the average human being able to lift barely their own weight, which is around 110 pounds on average. Vridurhi Reven do however have higher stamina than a human, despite their lacking strength, allowing them to carry out physical activity for 10% longer than a human typically could. This is a result of the Rheven-ari's naturally high metabolic rate, which is in place to keep their brain properly fed with nutrients in addition to the rest of their body.

Vridurhi Reven have less humanoid facial features, appearing somewhat thin and ugly by human or elven standards with faces that can sometimes make people mistake them for particularly 'attractive' orcs or deformed humans. However, Reven do possess the unique ability to sense vibrations via both their sense of touch and hearing allowing them to use a mixture of seismic sense and echolocation. During the night this ability is less active allowing them only to sense the general location of objects and people. However, during the day when their eyes are unable to properly see this ability is considerably heightened, allowing them to detect specific shapes and discern a good measure of detail. Nonetheless, their vibration sense was developed to supplement their poor day vision, rather than to replace their sight completely.

This ability becomes mostly dormant during the night, but upon exposure to sunlight, a Vridurhi will display the ability to navigate almost entirely without their eyes. Nonetheless identifying people or the specific physical shape of small objects will be impossible for them without their eyes. It should be noted that their eyes do not function well in daylight as they are designed for the subterranean dwellings of their home. Vridurhi Reven are more susceptible to disease then their Diurnal cousins and as such do not typically leave Midnight Island.

Last of all, Vridurhi, when they do have mageblood, tend to have a higher aptitude for learning magic than Shayahn, the reason for this is not known.

Shayahn Reven have night vision that is barely above that of humans however, their eyes are generally more advanced. This is partially due to their naturally occurring synesthesia in addition to their ability to perceive incredible detail. A Shayahn Reven could be considered much like a hawk or owl, able to zoom in to see things from further distances and even to reveal greater details the closer something is.

Most commonly, the brain of a Shayahn will associate their hearing and sight. However, some are born with the unique ability to sense magic, or rather arcanite. Those capable of this can, with practice, differentiate between the types. This is just another reason that they do not associate with most other races.

In terms of their musculature, Shayahn possess strength roughly equivalent to that of an average human. Their stamina is very high, though it can be exhausted quickly if they have not learned how to regulate themselves properly. Shayahn are faster, more flexible, and agile than humans. Elves surpass their natural agility, though Shayahn are more flexible and light on their feet. Shayahn usually weigh around 130 pounds without any training. Additionally, due to the increased durability of their bodies, caused by generations of travelers and vagabonds, Shayahn can jump particularly high and/or fall from roughly two stories without breaking any bones should they land properly.

Another notable trait, while not positive in nature, is that Shayahn burn much easier from fire, it is unknown as to why. Here end the differences between Shayahn and Vridurhi.

---

Stats

Advantages:

>1 major heart, 4 minor
>More effective lungs
>Faster than Elves
>Durable from the waist down
>High stamina amount, but use it quickly if not careful
>Claws
>Agile
>Incredible intellect
>Plate-like 'ribcage' analogue
>Higher resistance to sharp force trauma
>Magic sense/Synesthete(Shayahn)
>Synesthete(Shayahn)
>Lower magical talent(Shayahn)
>Good night vision(Vridurhi)
>Vibration sense/Exceptional hearing(Vridurhi)--limited--

Disadvantages:

>Claws can be broken and take weeks to heal
>Must eat more than humans due to their high metabolism
>Particularly susceptible to Disease and poisons/venoms
>Bleed out easier due to the speed of their blood flow
>Twice as sensitive to lack of oxygen
>Plate-like 'ribcage' analogue
>Particular weakness to Blunt force trauma
>Burn easily—fire(Shayahn) or light(Vridurhi)
>Hypersensitive to light(Vridurhi)
>Average(Shayahn) or lower(Vridurhi) than human strength

Psychology

Unlike the human mind, the mind of a Reven is something of an enigma. The key differences from the human mind come in the form of how quickly they process information and additionally that, depending on their class, two or more of the sensory parts of their brain will be more or less melded into one. Beyond this their brains start more well developed than those of humans, including connections between their synapses that most other races have to mold throughout their lives. Beyond this it should be noted that a Reven's brain is far more effective at storing and recollecting memories, and the speed at which they process information is anywhere between two or eight times that of most other sentient beings.

However, likely the strangest aspect of their brain is that it does not contain the entirety of their mind. Instead, the majority of a Reven's mind is intimately connected with their former prison. This allows the structure of a Reven's consciousness to be largely dependent on the individual, the stimuli they encounter throughout their life, and the way they work towards molding it. This leads to an intriguing point, a Reven is entirely capable of modifying the way that their mind functions, from the way information is processed, to the way they register pain and various other stimuli through modifying the way that their brain receives and reacts to stimuli.

However, there is an intriguing downside to this capability of theirs. In short it makes sympathizing and understanding the other races a fair deal more difficult than it would be otherwise. An upside to their unique neurology and psyche is that Psychomancers find their minds to be puzzles, rather than open books and as such it typically takes an adept Psychomancer, or one knowledgeable in regards to their kind, to properly decipher the labyrinth that is a Rheven-ari's mind. Inexperienced Psychomancers will often find themselves somewhat disoriented when around Rheven-ari, even if they are unaware of their presence, as the influx of their thoughts and emotions, or the lack thereof, can be rather disconcerting.

Even experienced psychomancers tend to state that Rheven-ari possess a mind which feels distinctly foreign. Sometimes their psyche has even been attributed an otherworldly quality, feeling as if it originates from some far off place where the rhyme and reason of Tiien holds no sway.

It is possible that their theory is not far from the truth, too bad there's no way to confirm such....

[MusesFallFirst]

UserName: MusesFallFirst

Character name: Aeripthyx "Pyx" Felisa

Age: 25

Mageblood type: Clima

Favoured Magic Class: Aeromancy

Previous Magic training: Few simple tricks, "hopping" by manipulating air to launch herself. Pushing small objects, using her air magic to force the occasional lock open.

Race: Snow Elf



Appearance: A short elf, even by her people's standards. She has her hair tied back in two rather funny bulbous pink pigtails.

Short Bio: Aeripthyx "Pyx" Felisa, was born to Snow Elf nobles. Which for most meant a life of luxury, privilege and all her desires would be met without question. This idea lasted up to the point where “Pyx” (Her name of choice when not dealing with her family or when it would get her out of an arrest!) decided it was much more fun to see what world existed beyond her family’s ancestral home. She found the world outside to be much different than what luxury’s found inside.

Of course her noble blood decreed she must be calm, and refined, and blah blah blah. That got boring fast! Her curiosity of the world overtook her family name. This resulted in Pyx creating her own “adventures,” often ending in property damage and the royal guards bringing a rather excited snow elf back home again. When her Clima blood awoke, her family kept the newfound magic quiet, their child being a mage was bad enough, but to have a Aeromancy mageblood was shameful.

Pyx felt otherwise, the ability to “hop”, by launching small pockets of air gave her the ability to explore and adventure even farther then before! She became more interested in the outside world, often leaving for weeks at a time. Returning with various “trophies” of her adventures.

It was after a rather unfortunate incident as a Noble gathering to impress another family that Pyx learned she was to be married off, and her adventuring days would be over. “That will never do!” Pyx decreed as she decided it was time to go on her next great adventure. This resulted in Pyx attempting to sneak out of a skylight, and ending in a truffle cake, upsetting the family she was to be married off to and a new rather unfortunate political incident.

This resulted in her family deciding she was to gain a better use of her mageblood. The healer mentioned a Twilight College, where Pyx could get a better grasp of her powers. Deciding that she should maybe take the offer of learning more of her mageblood, alongside being chained in the carriage that took her to Twilight, Pyx found herself being taken to her new home.

She wasn’t that upset to be honest, she was finally free of that stuffy hole in the middle of nowhere! She could adventure, find new things to make trophies, and have fun!

Pyx comes off as a bit of a prankster, due to her family's previous habits of bailing her out when she gets into trouble. She rarely has had to face the consequences of her actions.

Deeper down, her actions are to prove that she isn't like them. She wants to be her own elf, to prove she will leave a footprint on the world. Instead of just sitting on a fancy chair while people needed help! Or sometimes things needed to be "borrowed" often these items find themselves into the hands of people who honestly need them. When Pyx first started to adventure, she realized not everyone lived as easily as she did. People struggled with food, money, homes, why her family didn't just help confused the poor elf. So this began her habit of leaving stray items for those people, she couldn't change lives, but a good meal! That was nothing for the "super sneaky" elf!

Pyx just makes sure that nobody knows it was her! She had a reputation as a royal pain in the butt to keep up!

Good Attributes: Quick, able to appraise any situation to cause the most mischief in the shortest period of time. Talented pickpocket. Loyal, if someone can tolerate her long enough to make friends with the tiny elf.

Pyx believes she's fearless, not to be a hero, or to prove anything. She simply believes being afraid means she can't experience everything the world has to offer!

Bad Attributes: Her complete and utter lack of seeing the after-effects of her pranks. Greedy, if she can take it as a trophy, she may try to. Short attention span to her studies.

Secret Word: Rebirth

[MusesFallFirst]

UserName: MusesFallFirst

Character name: Pylia Keltafer

Age: 32

Mageblood type: Lux

Favoured Magic Class: (Vitalimancy

Previous Magic training: Simple healing spells taught by the temple

Race: Human

Appearance:

Short Bio: Pylia grew up in the Hope’s Temple, a rather quaint temple found in the middle of nowhere. She didn’t know much about her past before Hope, the priests found her while tending to the wounded of a neighboring town. She was a small child, crying in the house of a razed house around the bodies of several bandits that were torn to shreds by an unknown mage. The first Sister of Hope's Temple to connect to the child was Mother Hynas. An elderly woman, no children of her own offered to raise the child as a sister of their order. If they knew what was housed inside the child, and the bandits were part of a ritual involving the young girl. They would have slain the child, or left her back in the razed home.

The priests taught her the ways of Hope, to be patient, kind, to forgive and embrace all. Pylia grew up with these ideas. Often offering to help before the other children, taking to the chores simply to be helpful. When new children arrived at the temple, Pylia was always there to help greet and get them used to the ways of the temple. Mother Hynas noted Pylia was sometimes a little too helpful, taking on responsibilities of the other children. The elders noted Pylia's warmth was something remarkable considering the child's bloody past.

When her mageblood awoke for the first time as a Lux. The priests embraced this as a sign, that Pylia could tend to the wounded. That they could use magic to tend to the wounded that bandages and medicine couldn’t cure. She was taught a few simple healing spells, giving her a chance to adventure out with the group known as Hope’s Light. The fact that Hope now possessed a Lux healer, gave them additional resources. Including expansions to the Temple, allowing them to take in more affected by the arrival of the demons.

Pylia, eager to please her family took to this role with determination. The Priestess and company began to move from town to town, healing those in need. For the first time, Pylia had seen the world outside her temple. It was dark, miserable, desolate, and she was healing one person at a time.

This made a difference, right?

Pylia felt something inside her that was different, a dislike for those who injured innocent lives, an emotion Pylia was always careful to never show to the others. The more she tried to bottle her emotions up, the more they seemed to corrupt her view of the others. Soldiers, villiagers, even the priests she befriended, she felt herself drawing away from those she cared deeply for. When news passed of Mother Hynas passing, Pylia felt her connection to the temple beginning to fade. For the first time in Pylia's life, she considered leaving the Temple.

Months passed, and Pylia withdrew from the others on their journey. Often confining herself to study while the others prayed. Late at night, while pouring through her books. Pylia began to hear something whispering from the dark, spidery words that seemed to just scratch at the corners of her mind. Was she sick? Was this part of her mageblood?

Pylia began to research more into her mageblood, effects of her pushing her magics too hard. Yet nothing spoke of this curse. Her studies were eventually cut short, a holy order to tend to a plague in a distant town came from the elders. While travelling to this town, bandits heard news a woman who’s value outweighed the lives of some stuffy priests that carted her like some holy relic. An unguarded, vitalimancer, a woman who could keep their ranks tended to. In more ways then considered noble. Resulting in an attack by several members of the bandit'swho proceeded to slaughter Pylia’s family.

As they approached Pylia, she felt the venom and hatred reach out from the shadows. That these bandits saw her as property, to use for their needs, but what about the priests of Hope. Were they no better?

“Do you want to die here?”

Pylia was frightened, that was her voice. But it was darker, angry, sharp. She spoke to the darkness.

“I want to live, I need to help people…”

The voice laughed, with that, the darkness surrounded Pylia. A woman stood before her, It was a reflection of Pylia, but it’s like she came back wrong. A woman with clawed hands, her face was not her’s, it was sharp, unnaturally sharp. She reached a clawed hand to the healer.

“Then take my hand, you will live to see the morning, this I promise…” Nervously, Pylia took the womans hand, her entire world faded away to blade. The last image she saw was this woman’s smiling face.

Pylia awoke the next day, the bodies of the bandits surrounding her. Pylia’s snow white robes were bloodied. Her hands caked with dried blood, the bodies of the closest bandit’s were slashed by what could only be claws. Images of the woman’s hands flashed through her mind.

In a panic, Pylia quickly left. She withdrew from the world. Afraid of what she could do, afraid of the woman with the cold eyes and sharp edges. Still, the rumors of a healer lead the desperate for her aid. They found Pylia still doing what she could, as if she was trying to atone for her past misdeeds.

While tending to a sick child, the news of a Snow Elf who was being shipped to a Twilight College reached her ears.

Could they help her? If she gained a better grasp of her mageblood, could she keep the other half buried in shadows?

With that, the last Priestess of Hope’s light began her journey…

Good Attributes: Patient, understanding, kind to a fault. Believes in the goodness of everyone, regardless of their attributes, past, or misdeeds. Has a strong knowledge of medicine. Always concerned with the well-being both mentally and physical of those about her.

Bad Attributes: Afraid of her own power, aware of the darkness inside and refuses to acknowledge or embrace it. Naive to less then honorable intentions of the world around her. Trusting all who come to her at their word.

Secret Word: Rebith

[louie221]

Username: louie221

Name: Louie "Pitch" Black

Age: Twenty One

Mageblood Type: Obiligatio

Magic Class: Necromancy

Magic Training: Novice

Race: Human
Appearance:



Where Was He Born/Lives: Born in Hysteria, Djarkel.

Beliefs: Common Sense, Intelligence, Hope, Respect to those who deserve it, and Caution.

Does Not Believe In: Stupidity, Mistakes, Faith (For now anyway), Arrogance.

Weapon Besides Magic(IF this is applicable): Throwing Daggers.

Looking For in a Good Friend: Loyalty, Helpfulness, Intelligence.

Bio:

Born in Djarkel, he grew up a dreary child. He grew up in Hysteria, which is fairly self explanatory. The town was an interesting place to live, always some odd news going about, always being changed a bit from person to person. But there were times when it was just too much, either too much exaggeration or too much craziness all packed into a single story. There were, indeed, some lighter stories told, in which his parents told him when he was just a small child. They were of magical powers, heroes saving the day, or the world for that matter. Louie's favorite story was about an evil wizard who had harnessed the power of Necromancy and saved a small village from evil. The wizard's name was Maekul Pitch. Being so obsessed with the story, he was then nicknamed after Maekul. From that point on, most people called him Pitch instead of his real name.

As he grew older, he became smarter, his quick mind picking up smaller details that often led to interesting surprises. Curiosity built up in him, creating little bubbles that popped into life as he became more educated. Slowly, he began to build his knowledge through the local gossip and stories. They taught him a lot about Life, how it was a great thing. Yes, a great thing it was, and so was it's brother - Death. Stories of Death grew popular during Pitch's childhood, giving him a rather dark sense of curiosity and imagination. When he was thirteen years of age, he had learned to build traps, in which he set around the city, tripping, slightly injuring, or angering the locals. Pitch laughed and laughed, the name of the city growing inside of him like a disease.

Later, he had disturbing thoughts of death upon the locals, giving him the opportunity to practice the magic he had heard years ago. Necromancy, just the thought of it, gave him the chills. It thrilled him, the idea of bringing the dead to life. He had eventually gotten the attention of a local and lured him just outside the city. Being as cunning as he was, he got him to an open, quiet spot. He cornered him, revealing a small piece of metal he stole from the blacksmith's shop. He pierce's the local's heart, laughing at the blood that he had just spilled. Moments after he'd done it, he beat himself up for doing it. Killing a man is not right, he thought. But the thought soon escaped him. He practiced on the body, trying to bring it to life, or move it at the very least.

After years of practice, filled with dementia, he had successfully done something, which may seem boring to those who do not enjoy the dead. He had moved the body. Well, moved the arms a bit. They had twitched for a while, and then he had moved them around as if it were a living thing. He needed to find a place to harness this power. To breath in Life and exhale Death. To be the one to decide whether a man lives or dies. Now, as I said, Pitch is a very crazy man, but he has his soft side.

At age eighteen, he met the woman he loved. They got along well in the city, though she was very sane, very sane indeed. Even so, she loved Pitch with all her heart. As did Pitch, he loved her with all of his cold, withered, black heart. They dated for four years before she died. A horrible accident with an experiment of Pitch's. He was experimenting on possession, when it went downhill. He told the spirit to entertain him, something that he'd remember. The spirit possessed a large rock, very sharp on the edges. The rock cut Pitch's love far too deeply to be healed, and died of blood loss. This left Pitch distraught, even to this day.

He swore his life on mastering Necromancy to bring her back, he promised her that as he buried her. With a withered rose sitting atop her grave, he left in search of a place of magic. After less than a year of searching, he found a building filled with mages of different magic areas of study. This was the place, the place of which he could bring his love back. His dementia still flooding his mind, he made his way inside..........

Good Attributes: Good with Knife Throwing, Brutally Honest, Catches Small Things, Smart

Bad Attributes: Demented, Brutally Honest (Yes it's meant to be in here twice...), Slow Physically.

Secret Word: Rebirth

[yoshua171]

Arkaeis Zraimat
Username: yoshua171

Basic Info

Character name: Arkaeis Zraimat.
Age: 28.
Mageblood type: Ancient.
Favoured Magic Class: Chantment.
Previous Magic training: Novice.
Race: Rheven-ari.
Full Appearance: Arkaeis stands at a generous 6 feet with his double jointed legs—a knee joint, and a secondary joint which reverses direction and leads to his ankles—fully extended. In a relaxed stance he is roughly 5'10.

Biography: Born on Midnight Island to the Zraimat family, Arkaeis was raised to be a mediator between the Shayahn and Vridurhi classes, not to mention the six other Shayahn families. As he grew, raised in the traditional way, Arkaeis learned of the deep intricacies of the mind, the psychology of his kind. This interested him greatly and early in his life he delved into the knowledge that his kind had stored on the subject. Not only did he study it, but he drowned himself in it. He began to absorb as much information as he possibly could. He was ravenous for it, as if knowledge were his sustenance and he had never been fed. At the age of sixteen he attended his first meeting, watching the proceedings and doing his best to pinpoint the best possible solutions. His father, Akain, was proud of his son's skills, but he was to be quite surprised when, quite rudely, the boy interrupted the meeting to give his take on it.

There was a time of stunned silence before the family representatives attending the Khriial Set began nodding their heads at the idea. It was a novel idea, not perfect, but nonetheless it helped them solve the issue and where his father had once been ready to scold, he was now just as ready to congratulate him. Arkaeis could not help but beam brightly for the rest of the meeting, which lasted at least fifteen more minutes.

He was proud of himself and the event lent him a new sense of confidence. It was the seed that grew into what would eventually become his resolute assured state of mind—banishing all self doubt from his mind. His experiences began to broaden as he witnessed Vanas Set and heard the ideas of the people along with the Set-reven. He began to notice the way that the Set-reven would sometimes fully embrace the voice of the people, and how other times they would only appear to do so.

It was a subtle form of manipulation, a form of manipulation that his family had become grandmasters to. He was learning and when he saw it he was able to tell when to intervene and when to simply make note. Sometimes the wishes of the masses would not benefit the masses, it was an odd concept, but he understood how it made sense. He knew it was his duty to discern between these where the Set-reven failed. He was the judge and they the ones on trial. A form of superiority, bordering on arrogance, began to grow on Arkaeis.

His father did not correct it, though he saw it coming to pass. Instead, he took his son to the next Hhay'en Ashar, where the boy made his own mistakes. In the middle of the meeting, once again, he made a suggestion, interrupting a member of the Elder council. Narrowed eyes looked upon him, and this time very few agreed with him, despite the intelligence behind his idea. While it did not cull his arrogance outright, it taught him that humbleness and patience were also necessary traits. It was around this time, at the age of 18 that he began to develop his persona.

The probabilities began to run in his mind, he would no longer have to rely purely on his conscious mind's ability to analyze situations. He would access these scenarios when needed, but they would always be there, running in the background while he worked. His daily life continuing, Arkaeis began to learn the cruel nature of the world, watching the families squabble amongst themselves for superiority, watching predators hunt their prey. He understood that this was how the world worked, that the strong preyed on the weak. However, what constituted strength, the young Reven wondered. Was it influence or skill with a blade? Or perhaps it was magic, which flowed through everyone's veins, regardless of their knowledge or skill.

Knowledge, no...it was knowledge. Intellect, for a strong brute was nothing compared to the one who controlled him, moving him strategically like a game of Chess. This appealed to him, and so Arkaeis continued his studies and as he did he found that many of his kin were beginning to show skill with magic. They had a myriad of Bloodlines, some Psychomancers, others Pyromancers. It was always intriguing to watch them play with the forces of nature.

He wondered if he were unlucky and simply had not inherited the talent. He studied magic, first all the bloodlines, for the Rheven-ari possessed their own College of magic, though it was limited to their kind. He attended several classes, but the intelligence of the professors never impressed him.

Nothing was new, and he could not practice any of the Bloodlines they taught. So, after much digging, Arkaeis finally turned to the Ancient magics. Finding the dusty old tomes buried in their vast archives, Arkaeis began to attempt runes, then weaving, and finally...Chantment. He discovered his abilities one night in a small empty chamber one night. A room carved out of the stone, it was seldom used and possessed only a single chair and table. He had been reading about Chantment and its rarity for quite a while. He had not seen any of his fellow Reven possess the talent and, slightly desperate to see if he had any Blood, for none of the other magics had responded to his call, he tried to do something simple: light a candle.

He chanted, keeping his voice low, but clear having memorized the phrase before he tried it. It went just so, “Accende lucernam linum coram me mensam ex calculo. De duobus digitis linum latet sub palma florebit. Hic ubi ignis apparuit.” While the Chant was not very effective, it was specific for he had read that inaccurate specification of a spell's location and properties could lead to disaster and injury.

Nonetheless, the spell worked, for the wick of the candle suddenly lit. His lips spread in a smile, and elation spread through him. Still, once he pulled his hand away from the candle, the fire went out. When he placed it over the candle once more by two inches it lit, but if his hand was any higher or any lower and nothing happened. The discovery intrigued him greatly, filling him with a sense of accomplishment despite the simple task.

It was this day that he knew he had to travel. For him to learn the ways of this magic he needed to know more than his home in Shayl Kharath would allow. So the very next day he revealed his discovered to his father and then told him of his plan.

The man did not approve, but nonetheless he knew that Arkaeis would find a way regardless. So he decided to support him. It took him several years of preparation for Arkain had no intention of sending his only son out into the world unprepared. As such his father continued the boy's training with a blade, which he'd started years before. Eventually the man even managed to obtain the Traveler's Blade, better known as Sesrale Maevrihn. Then, on the day of his 27th birthday he bid his son goodbye, and wished him success. Hopefully he would return with knowledge and experience that made it all worth it.

Arkaeis knew he would and for every day he traveled, after landing on the shore of the mainland, he grew. He encountered trouble here and there, but what was more important was the wealth of experience he gained. Even on his way to the College he saw the many races of Tiien, people he had only read about in books, and they intrigued him. They thought differently from his kind, though for the most part he was ignored or thought a human. This of course amused him and he entertained them, gradually understanding how their kind acted on a more intimate level. He continued to do this, learning the similarities and differences between the minds of the many races.

However, all the while he honed his craft, writing down each spell he formulated and constantly working to improve them. The more streamlined, but specific, a Chant was, the easier the spell was to cast, and the more effective it became. Oddly, despite his original feat in conjuring flame, his book allowed him to do little else for it was worn and old. Instead he took to the disciplines of Aeromancy and Psychomancy, the two which seemed most useful and best kept in the book. Psychomancy in particular interested him and he pored over it, sometimes losing sleep, but not all too often.

Eventually, after a year or so, some wandering, and some beeline towards his destination, Arkaeis would find himself near Leaper's Plateau, only several hours from the College's lofty halls. While excited he had long learned to keep cool his nerves. He did not want to find himself distracted due to fickle emotion. Things would be changing soon, and he knew it.

He knew he was destined for great things, but he wasn't yet sure exactly what those things were.

He'd find out soon enough.

Personality: Enigmatic, veiled in mystery and pleasant in his mannerisms, Arkaeis is a rather cunning individual. While on the outside he appears a near perfect gentleman of high intellect and enigmatic interests, within he is darker, colder, and far more manipulative. Long has he toiled to perfect himself and in his own mind he has succeeded, literally. In this way Arkaeis is entirely confident in himself in all things, even those that he has little talent for. He is unshakable in his own way and on many levels will resist the ploys of others, be they intentional or otherwise. Thus to others he appears a man entirely abhorrent of manipulation and deceit, of course that is only if you know him on an incredibly basic level, for in truth Arkaeis is in fact quite deceitful to all around him. It is a marvel that no one, and that is said with absoluteness, has realized his trickery. For to others he is kind, reliable and honest. Intelligent yes, and definitely more than a little eccentric, but otherwise harmless unless provoked.

Of course, when provoked, Arkaeis does not always appear so on first observation. Instead, he appears either more amused by proceedings or incredibly, horribly bored. This stems from his rather strange rage, which is not easily roused from its slumber in his soul. In fact, those who know Arkaeis very well often say that despite having seen him angry, they always got the sense that he was still entirely in control the entire time. This is frighteningly true and brings with it many implications. First among these is that despite his emotional state, Arkaeis remains entirely in control of his actions even if such does not appear to be the case. Second is the startling realization one gains when they come to know that not only is Arkaeis in control at all times, but that he can rouse any desired mind state or emotion entirely on command. This lends to the fact that all who know Arkaeis understand how great his self control is, even if not to what extent.

When it comes to matters of friend, foe, and family Arkaeis is very particular with how he deals with people. When it comes to family, they are both priceless, and expendable, or rather they are perfect tools for his machinations. When it comes to friends Arkaeis appears incredibly loyal and helpful to near perfection. However, in the end it is almost surely a ruse for he lets so very few into his heart
.
While he is cold, it is difficult for one to truly understand just how much until they have seen him unrestrained against his enemy. Thus it can be seen that in battle Arkaeis only enjoys himself when he needs not utilize the entirety of his deadly arsenal of skills. Otherwise he tends to find himself annoyed by the fact that he must consider his enemy an equal. This reveals another of Arkaeis's vices, something that few know unless they delve deep into his true persona. In short, Arkaeis is prideful and a measure arrogant as he believes that none truly surpasses his majesty. However, it is not in the skills of the body that he believes himself entirely superior, no, it is in the realms of the mind that he so places himself. In a sense, he is not entirely wrong. A fact that, should any discover his true nature en full, would frighten most, not that they would survive long to tell their tell...after all, the others didn't.

Good Attributes: Enigmatic, Charismatic, Intelligent, and Gentlemanly first and foremost. He is pragmatic and cautious as well.

Bad Attributes: Curiosity is likely his biggest flaw as can be amusement. While not easily angered, Arkaeis' temper can lead to a dangerously cruel and chilled side of his personality. He is also manipulative, though it is not immediately apparent.

Equipment

Clothing and Belongings

Beyond what he wears in his reference, Arkaeis also keeps, or wears, a warm cloak, with a hood. This cloak is waterproof on the outer surface and is a mixture of soft cloth on the inner surface, with heavier (but warmer) wool and the like stuffed within. The cloak is a neutral brownish gray so as to make him inconspicuous. It is long and tends to conceal his feet and legs. Beyond this, Arkaeis carries a matching brown satchel, which he carries slung over one shoulder and crossing down over his body where it rests at his hip. This satchel carries several tools, unscented soap, and two books. One of these books is a spell tome in which he writes the Chants he has worked out. The second book contains the words of the Chanter's Tongue, though it is a worn out heirloom, with several missing pages and some text which is illegible. He also wears a pack, in which he primarily stores provisions for his travels. He does not keep his coin on an item separate from his person, instead wearing a small necklace pouch which lies concealed beneath his garb at all times unless in use.

Armor and Weaponry

While he possesses, nor wears, much of either, Arkaeis does keep with him a few notable items. In particular, the Reven conceals several sets of concealed bracers beneath his clothing. They are made from steel and are equipped to his forearms and surrounding his shins. The shin guards are something like cylindrical bracers with a cloth inner portion and a metal outer one. In the way of armor he wears little more.

When it comes to weaponry, Arkaeis wears only two daggers, and a single very light blade. One of the daggers is a hunting dagger, designed for big and small game. It is what he uses to carve meat out if he must hunt. It is reserved only for animals and he will seldom use it for anything else. The second dagger is for combat purposes, and he keeps it out of sight at all times, so that any adversary he might come across would never know it existed to begin with.

Last among his weapons is his sword, which is an odd thing. The weapon is disguised as a thick walking stick. The sheath, hilt, and handle of this blade are crafted of iron would, which is seamlessly carved to appear like a simple walking stick with a slight cross-like portion just above where Arkaeis holds it. The blade is precisely four and a half feet in length and composed of crummite, which naturally occurs in the mines on Midnight Island. The blade was wrought by several master geomancers in tangent with a master carver and herbamancer. The blade is typically given to prestigious members of Rheven-ari society who venture out into the world. The blade is particularly heavy due to the materials that compose its form. The blade has survived many trips in many different Reven hands and for now it belongs to Arkaeis.

Capabilities

Magical Talents: When it comes to magic, Arkaeis' knowledge is more plentiful than his experience and while he is a very fast learner he is but a novice when it comes to skill. As a mage of Ancient magic, specifically Chantment, he has attempted spells, but found little success. Nonetheless he has some aeromantic ability, though it is weak at best. He also possesses a single spell related to the geomancy Blood, which allows him to decrease the weight of his blade.

Physical Talents: Arkaeis has become hardy from his travels and obtained a high amount of stamina however, he is not particularly strong in the physical field.—insteading making up for it with grace and finesse. His lower body is far more developed than his arms and torso, allowing him to deliver kicks that could break ribs due to the natural strength of a Reven's legs. He can jump considerably higher than a human and is incredibly fast and agile. His reflexes are quick and his senses sharp. Beyond this he has the natural syneshesia of all Shayahn Reven. His synesthesia is a connection of sound and sight, allowing him to see colors related with sounds. Different sounds have different colors, and he has noticed that different races, and even animals, seem to have unique shades of these colors. He finds this very intriguing and has even begun to note how emotion affects the voice when it is portrayed through such a medium. Beyond this, Arkaeis has picked up meager hunting skills, allowing him to move silently even in forests to wait to ambush his prey. He has near master skill in swordsmanship allowing him a distinct advantage in combat.

Mental Structure/Talent: As a member of the Zraimat family, Arkaeis has been sculpted from birth to be an arbitrator, and oddly by extension, a master of manipulation. It should be noted that while the full description of his mind is complex, that he works on essentially three layers. The top most later known as the Facade, the middle layer known as the Bridge, and the innermost layer known as the Core. Anyways, without further ado, the structure of Arkaeis' psyche:

Layout

False Subconscious

Arkaeis' mind is incredibly organized and can be separated into notable sections. The outermost section of his mind is dedicated to what appears to be random thoughts suffused with kernels of truth here and there. While hardly a hurdle for any Psychomancer of considerable skill, this layer prevents inexperienced mages from prying into his schemes, as such tactics are not too infrequently employed in Rheven-ari politics. An Advanced or Master practitioner would find this defense barely as resilient and useful as a low level ward, discerning its nature quickly and bypassing it with ease. However, a Psychomancer of Expert or Intermediate skill will be at least briefly confused by the initial layer, an expert pressing through with minor difficulty, whereas the intermediate has a 50/50 chance of succeeding. A novice will not be able to discern rhyme nor reason from the layer, considering it the natural subconscious mind, which it is not. This layer is not a feature of the normal Rheven-ari mind, and was brought into being through training and diligent effort. It is somewhat common in members of the Zraimat family due to their place in Rheven-ari society.

The Sea of Ego

Just beneath the False Subconscious is the Sea of Ego, which can be described as a maelstrom of personalities. This layer is composed of what could be anywhere between ten to one hundred separate personalities, each unique. These persona wink in and out of existence depending on which is required. If one were to watch the Sea's movements, they would not notice any specific patterns or currents, but they would notice dances and plays being carried out between the personalities. This is where probabilities and scenarios are run inside of Arkaeis' mind. These persona can, and are, created and destroyed almost at a whim, so as to allow Arkaeis to consider as many possible outcomes as is possible. While Arkaeis is aware of this layer and has some measure of conscious control over it, what could be called a subconscious mind rules over these processes for the most part. This pseudo subconscious helps facilitate the scenarios so that Arkaeis can continue to interact with his surroundings without sacrificing a ridiculous amount of focus.

Seat of the Dominant

Upon the 'floor' of the Sea of Ego is the Seat of the Dominant, the portion of Arkaeis' psyche where the most dominant of his persona dwell. If Arkaeis switches persona the new persona will take the place of the old upon the seat.

The Fortress

Beneath the 'sea floor' is the Fortress, which is dedicated to the few Aspects, who are essentially the driving forces of Arkaeis' personality. There are is a grand throne and two lesser thrones in the Fortress. The fortress is Arkaeis' final defense against psychic intrusion, but due to him not truly possessing any wards it can still be pierced. it can only defend him for a limited time depending on the skill of the Psychomancer. The greater the skill the less time and effort will be needed to pierce this defense.

The Throne Room

The inner sanctum of this Reven's psyche, the room is inhabited by three, two Aspects, and a single Archetype. They are known as Observation, Amusement, and Ambition. The A twins, Amusement and Ambition, are both Aspects by which Arkaeis' personality is deeply, and inherently, effected. Observation, also known as 'The Core', is the Grand ruler of his Psyche. He is the Archetype. Observation is mostly without bias besides focusing on the gathering of information and knowledge in all its forms. The Archetype concerns itself with obtaining wisdom and intellectual superiority, though does not care about the consequences of such unless they directly go against its continued survival.

The two Aspects have less sway, but are nonetheless the other two defining traits of Arkaeis' as a conscious being. Ambition pushes him to improve himself, both through obtaining knowledge, power, and station. Ambition cares not for the emotions of others, but instead wishes to lead them to follow in its footsteps, with it as their shepherd, and they as the sheep. Ambition will always push Arkaeis to reach higher unless Observation tempers it or dictates otherwise for the betterment of the whole.

Second of the two Aspects, but not any less influential, Amusement drives Arkaeis to find its namesake anywhere it can. Due to the influence of its twin, and its better, it tends to glean amusement from learning information and exerting the power it gains over others. Granted, the way this is expressed on the surface differs widely, just as with its twin, and so will not usually be obvious. Such is the nature of this Reven's mind.

When it comes to his mental talents, Arkaeis is incredibly good at multitasking and has an almost eidetic memory, allowing him to recall almost anything he's experienced to a fault—aside from his infant years or time unconscious of course. Nonetheless, his memory is not perfect and he is capable of forgetting or not noticing certain details. His attention to his senses is exceptional allowing for him to be aware of the input from all of his senses, including the abnormal input of his synesthesia. While he cannot block out pain, he can dull it somewhat and knows how to quickly induce a heightened awareness through a breathing technique, allowing him to release a mixture of endorphins and adrenaline. He is not aware of the chemicals, but is aware of the sensations that this slow breathing technique allows him to induce. The highest of his abilities is his analytical prowess, allowing him to discern a great deal from any given situation. This also makes him a very fast learner. Beyond this Arkaeis is attuned to the workings of his body, allowing for precise movements despite his limited physical strength.

Secret Word: Rebirth.

[Sep]

UserName: Sep, cause Fallen is boring.

Character name: Arcadius

Age: Unknown

Mageblood type: Lues

Favoured Magic Class: Runework

Previous Magic training: Studied at the college of Aerta,

Race: Originally? Human. Now, he’s missing everything that makes a human human. He’s just a Skeleton.

Appearance:

Image

6”1

Short Bio: Arcadius, who cannot remember his family crest. He fought in the Dark Wars, however he can’t remember what side he fought for completely. He only recalls how he fought and used runic objects to bring death to other people under orders. Before the war broke out he had been a detective and he remembered more of that than he did off anything else, he remembers being trusted with information and secrets and trying to find solutions to things, and he remembers the fight and losing.

He doesn’t remember how he lost he just remembers the pain. Something stabbing through his chest, held by someone he knew and that was the annoying thing. He didn’t even know who this person was let alone how he knew them. They had been important, and he had trusted them. That was all he remembered. The next thing he had woken up in a coffin hearing the sound of dirt being piled on top of him. Above him were strange runes which he had cursed himself for not knowing them even though they were his art. Despite this the coffin must have been bound, meaning that no magic could be used on it or inside of it which was bad for him. He tried shouting, the person on the outside either did not hear him or did not care.

Searching his surroundings he found a cane, touching it had been the biggest mistake he had ever made. The power of the cane infused him with Arcanite and infused his bones with everlasting life, however sadly the power of Duuri didn’t mention the life including his flesh and blood. It was excruciatingly painful for him as his flesh and organs began to burn away from him, like being dipped in acid or being burned slowly. When it passed he could see as if it was light, it was one of the bonuses of not being flesh and bone and not having actual eyes.

Then began his torture, years passed. Or days, or eons. He didn’t know. He just lay there. Occasionally testing out his body. He appeared to always retain his strength despite his lack of muscle or lack of activity for years at a time. What did pain him though was the fact his bones broke easily. Something he had to keep in mind with all the times he became frustrated and tried to assault the coffin, fruitlessly of course. As it was bound it could only be opened from the outside. All he had was the cane. He held it for years at a time, tapping it off the coffin as if pretending to walk, not even weathering the cane down. Though the top decoration began to form a groove in it till it have a grove that perfectly fit his right hand.

Eventually, he didn’t know when he was dug up. Of course no point in shouting if they even spoke the same language as him. He was moved around a lot, he didn’t know why and he got quite cross at none of them for being curious enough to open the lid of the Coffin. It would have been a simple task that enslaved him.

This went on, and on, and on. He merely resided himself to his torture for eternity spent in this box with himself.

Good Attributes:
- Keen detectives eyes.
- Has no muscles - so doesn’t get tired from running etc.
- No lungs so does not run out of breathe from physical activities/being underwater.
- Versed in Martial Arts.
- Good historical knowledge.
- Light does not affect his sight, he can see just as well in the dark as he can in the light.
- Due to nothing present to cushion the impact even though he can’t hit too hard without breaking himself he also does not need to hit as hard to cause pain.

Bad Attributes: - Wise Crack, likes to talk and crack jokes that can seem an annoyance to people.
- Despite his condition he still feels pain as if he had flesh. Set on fire? It'll burn etc.
- Due to his extended… isolation it is likely he will have issues getting to grips with interaction again.
- He can be quick to anger, and if he becomes truly angry he will enter a state where he cannot use magic and has to resort to physical violence.
- He can’t die by normal means(Which is a curse believe it or not).
- He is hard to hide in a crowd.
- He isn’t very stealthy…
- He isn’t up to date on current history since before the war that lead to his death.
- His bones are slightly weakened meaning they can be broken easier than normal.
- In cold weather his bones become more brittle, meaning they break easier.
- Dislocating a bone is just the equivalent of taking it off. Causing extreme pain in the process.

Secret Word: Rebirth, ironic, huh?

The Curse/Blessing:

Basically what it did was preserve his mind and his body, however it didn’t preserve his body properly. Part of the cane that resurrected him was missing, the decorative end had been replaced with something new. Whoever killed him basically didn't like him very much. Wanting to kill him but also wanting to make him suffer, binding the coffin he placed the cane inside knowing at some point he would touch it. The canes decorative jewel on the top which gave it additional power (It had enough residual power for one use after it was removed) was replaced with a new decorative top. This top had runes engraved on it(That he couldn't see and didn't have the ability to read anyway) these runes were designed to rot flesh.

So at the same time the cane tried to revive him it also decayed all off his flesh. The magic bounded him together so it was as if his muscles, voice box and everything else still existed. It is why he can still feel pain. However the fact it does not exist is what gives him the whole "undead" and "dead" aspect. If you stab his heart it will hurt, however it won't actually kill him. Breaking bones are the most damaging you can go, break all of them and he’ll die as he will be nothing.

While the Cane was designed to bring everlasting natural life however for him it brought him back, it was also designed to make a more powerful mage by infusing the mages bone with arcanite. Naturally for Arcadius all it did was allow him to retain some magical control, rather than making him more powerful. He is a living Paradox, the more powerful magic of Duuri kept his soul alive infused within his very bones (technically) while the runes by his enemy rotted everything else away.

He retains magic through the field that holds him together and also through the Arcanite in himself. If he uses to much magic he begins drawing it from the field that holds him together and is the very reason he exists and the bonds that hold everything he is starts to fall apart, and he begins to turn to dust. This dust turning into cannot be reversed, he very slowlyregrows as the magic field has to re-expand to do so. Broken bones heal at a normal rate however. If someone somehow has a way to regrow their own bones it occurs slightly faster at whatever rate they can do it but then his magic tolerance is lower as the field holding him together has to hold everything together but with less available until it manages to replenish itself through him. Of course during this time he cannot cast any magic without risking losing more of himself.

He keeps the cane as a link to his former self however without the power source it cannot be used again to revive anybody and as it was the only object he had he has worn the runes from the top of the cane into a hand groove that fits his skeletal hand perfectly.

[Asura]

UserName: Asura
Character Name: Warwick Blight
Age: 20
Mageblood Type: Obiligatio
Favored Magic Class: Demonomancy
Previous Magic Training: No official training, although he's experimented enough to know the very basics
Race: Human Carsaeus (Werewolf)
Appearance:
Warwick is a rather imposing male, standing at just over six feet in height and weighing in at roughly two hundred pounds. His physique is one of power, one expected of a predator. Every inch of his body is plated in lean, chiseled muscle giving him the strength and speed one would expect of a feral beast. Covering his muscular body is a layer of fair white skin marked with a variety of scars and marks to define it's owners reckless life style. While appearing more human than many of his kin, it is very obvious to the common bystander that Warwick is far from human. This face is one of the more noticeable indicators of this. While they're quite 'rugged' and what many would call 'handsome', the inhumanity in them is obvious. His face is angular and sharp. Predatory in nature and dangerous in design. His teeth are unlike any human's, entirely pointed and suited to ripping meat from prey rather than grinding food down normally.

His eyes are a sharp, piercing yellow color and seem to glower on their own with an unsettling energy akin to that of the Inferno. His ears, while in the place one would expect human ears, are pointed much like those of an elf and covered in a thin layer of fuzz. His hair seems to be a cross between the long locks one would find on a human's head and the thick fur one would find on a wolf. It's soft and warm, yet wild and untamed and kept in a shaggy mop that only adds to his disheveled appearance.
More features become apparently as you move down his body. Patches of 'fur' like those found on his ears and fairly common along his form, particularly around his limbs. His appendages are just another indication of his heritage. Unlike human fingers or toes, each of them ends in a sharp hooked claw rather than a rounded nail confined to the top portion of the digit. His palms are calloused in a manner that also seems to resemble the 'pads' found on a dog or its more wild siblings, allowing him superior grip. The last obvious indication lies along his back. Particularly, the tail that hangs from his back at the point where his spine fuses into his sacrum. It's rather thick and covered in a form of hair similar to that on his head.

Short Bio: To truly understand Warwick's story, you must first understand who his parents were. His mother, a kind young woman by the name of Marianna descended from a poor family. For all her life, she grew within a healthily sized village within Eania's countryside as the daughter of a shepherd. Living outside the feeble walls of her village and assisting her family in raising their livestock, as one of the only children of her parents to have made it past childhood, Marianna exposed herself to a variety of dangers. One of those dangers just so happened to be the one to conceive Warwick with her. Attacks on their cows from creatures of prey were not an uncommon occurrence. Many predators would wander onto their farm looking for an easy meal and occasionally make off with one of their cows or sheep. What was uncommon, however, was a string of these attacks night after night. Such an event plagued their farm one balmy summer.

Her father, an aging man at that point, did what he could with the little help he could afford to patch up their fences and ensure nothing could get into the farm. But nothing he could do truly stopped the beast, who returned every night and tore apart animal after animal. With their village having no true militia to call for help with such a terrifying turn of events and their coffers running low on coin to replace the animals with, Marianna took it upon herself as the eldest of their children to try and foolishly put an end to the attacks. Camping out one knight with her father's bow, she intended to wedge an arrow in the beast when it came for her livelihood and return a hero to her assorted siblings. What she found was no mortal beast.

Having lived reasonably close to the border of Djarkel, a land of darkness where foul beasts ran amok, it was a shock the peasants hadn't expected what Marianna found that night. Instead of a mountain lion or some coyote, what descended upon the cows that night was a massive, bipedal creature that smelt of fire and brimstone of thirsted for blood. It stared down upon the peasant girl with curiosity. An emotion which quickly turned to amusement as she drew an arrow from her quiver and shot it uselessly into it's dark fur in an attempt to strike it down. Her fiery attitude impressed the demon, who decided that rather than feeding on her for nourishment, he'd feed another hunger of his. The demon forced himself upon the unsuspecting farm girl before disappearing into the night, leaving her family to discover her in the morning, bloodied and broken.

Recovery from the various traumas inflicted upon her that night was quick, or as quick as being raped by a demon could possibly be. She was always a determined girl, a stalwart one. It was something she could overcome. Indeed, the demon had intended just that. For only the bravest mortal women could undertake the horrors that would befall her in life. Horrors which revealed themselves several months after the event, when a bump formed its way in her belly. A bump that would one day become Warwick.

Try as they might, her family couldn't convince Marianna to rid herself of the... thing that grew within her. Spawn on a demon or not, she insisted that it was her child and that depriving it of life would be more wrong than birthing a half breed. Nine months after the tragic event Warwick came into the world, kicking and screaming like a bat out of hell, as one would expect of his kind. He was an exceedingly healthy baby, as much as it pained his family to admit. It was certain he would make it through the earliest years of his life.

For the most part, his early years were the easiest. His family kept him locked away from the world, hoping to avoid the shame and mockery that would come of his existence. From the moment he could walk, talk and even remember he was shunned by those meant to be closest to him. All aside from his mother, whom did her best to nurture and care for him. To shield him from the coldness of the world. But she couldn't be around forever. He would eventually need to forge his own way into the world. His grandfather knew as much. Perhaps in a form of tough love or spite for the little 'beast' that had come of his kin, the old farmer sent Warwick, a mere boy off into town by himself on an errand. His first real glimpse into the world outside of his family's farm was amazing... until the people of town noticed him. They shouted names at him, threw things. The abuse eventually culminated in them chasing him out of town, calling him a monster and nearly doing worse than simply shooing him off. It was a prelude of things to come.

All throughout his childhood he was subject to it all. The bullying, the harsh whispers behind his back, the cold glares from all those around him. He was shunned for what he was, for something he had no control over. The fear and prejudice caused the fine folk of his village to torment the poor wolf as he developed. For all the damage it did though, it hardened him. For every wound they caused he grew stronger for it, colder, but stronger. But his existence didn't just harm himself. His family were right in hiding him away. They were subject to nearly the same amount of abuse, his mother in particular. Called a whore for birthing a demon, a heretic and even a demonmancer. As much as she tried to protect him from the world, he could see the barrage wearing down upon the one person who had been there for him through it all.
So, rather than continue to bring his own parent and the others of his kin down, he decided to run away. No matter where he went, he'd always be the target of some form of mockery. But maybe if he left to be on his own, he could take some of the suffering away from them. A boy, no more than thirteen years old at the time, Warwick scribbled a note with what little knowledge of writing he had been given and made off into the night with nothing more than a knapsack at his side.

As hard as the journey was, he trekked on, day after day, town after town. Surviving was difficult but for once in his life, his demonic heritage came in handy. He was fast and strong. His senses keen. He could survive out in the wilderness where a softer lad could not. It was three long years of this, sticking to the woodlands and escaping into towns now and again to stir up some trouble and grab some supplies before the populace chased him away. He'd often get attacked, the more ignorant assaulting him and forcing him to fight back. He mauled many a man during his occasional town visits, forced to run before the authorities were called in and inevitably blamed him for the altercations.

A miserable existence it was, but he managed. Day after day he survived, alone in the world and wandering aimlessly for a place of acceptance. Something, much to his surprise, he would soon find. He had heard stories of his kind, half demons, or werewolves as the common folk tended to label his particular breed, banding together to form groups. Clans of the unwanted who helped each other survive in the world that wanted nothing to do with them. It was by luck alone that one day, Warwick stumbled upon such a group. Or rather, they stumbled upon him. While searching for a place to rest for the night, he had inadvertantly stumbled into the territory of one of these clans. They tracked him, as those of their particular blood tended to do, to the cavern he managed to claim for himself. Had he been a mere mortal, he likely wouldn't have escaped the handful of scraggly looking half breeds that stormed the cave. But he wasn't. He was one of them.

The small clan, consisting only of a dozen or two their breed, happily accepted Warwick into their ranks after a mildly violent run in within the cavern. For the first time, with these other 'monsters', he found peace and acceptance. They helped each other with tasks, looked out for one another and functioned like a little family unit of their own. Like a pack of the animals their corrupted fathers took the form of, they carved out a niche just large enough to live comfortable in the wilds, far from where harm could be done. It was a good time in Warwick's life.

As such, he should've expected it to all come crumbling down. For the deities of the world seemed to have it out for the young wolf. Having lived among the ever growing clan for several long years, Warwick had done well for himself. He had moved up the 'hierearchy' thanks to an unnatural charisma with his fellow half-demons. Made some friends, conquered a few of the clan's women for his own. It was all going well. But the leader of their little 'pack', their 'alpha' had grander plans. Having lived on the fringes of society for so long, having been outcasts all their lives, they had finally grown to the point where they could make a difference. Where they could strike back against those who would oppress them. Consisting of roughly fifty five individuals, their group of mangy mutts had turned into a small army of Carsaeus. Enough to challenge some of the weaker villages that surrounded their home. Despite strong protest, some even from Warwick himself, their leader decided to lead a crusade against the humans who had wronged them all.

It was the beginning of the end for their clan. Leading ten of his fellow wolves into a farming village much like the one Warwick was born into, they slaughtered the unsuspecting inhabitants in the night and took the backwater town for their own. Livestock to feed them, houses to shelter them and a healthy dose of revenge against people who had never done them any wrong empowered the wolves of their clan. With numbers on their side, the humans could do little to stop them. In a land of holy crusades, hubris was the last thing those tainted by demon blood needed. Unbeknownst to the foolish wolves, not every man, woman and child in that village had fallen to their warriors. Some had managed to escape in the night while the werewolves snorted and celebrated their victory. They sent word to the other villages and soon, their find homeland responded with the force one would expect at such a grievous infestation.

Soldiers, hardened of battle and possessing powerful magics assailed the village one day. The arrogance of the wolves leader prevented him from calling a retreat. Instead of running for the hills as they should have, many of Warwick's comrades made a stand against the troops that came marching to retake the village. They were slaughtered like the animals they had always been. One by one, Warwick watched as his 'family' were cut down by blessed swords and holy silver. He himself had been attacked by the soldiers in his attempt to flee the losing battle.Cornered by several of Eania's best, it was then that for the first time, Warwick tapped into his mageblood.

He had always held the ability, an affinity for controlling the more vile creatures of the world. It was perhaps his latent abilities in demonomancy that had helped propel him through the ranks of his clan. But this was the first real use. The first obvious use of his abilities. Cornered like a beast, in fear and rage, sorrow and hatred that came a rift in the very space of their plane. It wasn't a large one, but that day Warwick tore himself a portal to the realm of Inferno in sheer desperation.
From the rift poured forth imp after imp, minor demons who slipped through the fabric of the tear and scattered through the battlefield, free of control thanks to Warwick's inexperience and allowed passage into the mortal realm. It distracted the soldiers long enough for him to turn tail and rush, self preservation prevailing as he ran into the wilderness once more, shocked, terrified and amazed all at the same time. By the time he had stopped running, he was far from the scene of the terrible massacre. So far he could no longer smell their scents, or hear their cries. He was alone once more.

Stripped of all he had known, the mourning wolf aimlessly wandered once more, with no where left to go and no where to rest in the fear those soldiers who came to claim his companions would too hunt him. Left an emotional wreak, he had merely one thing to compose himself. One thing to focus on. That godforsaken rift he caused. He knew very little of it, but he was certain what he caused that terrible day was magic. It wasn't entirely unheard of for mages to summon forth demons from what he had heard. Perhaps he was one of them.. no, he had to be one of them. In the tragedy of his loss, he had found something of value in himself. Something that could provide him with a future.

It was near impossible to live within Eania and not hear of the Twilight College, even with his limited contact with civilized people. A place where mages were accepted and trained. If he managed to make it there, he could start anew, in a place where he wouldn't be hated and more importantly, hunted by the natives of his land. So he set forth for it. To the college and to a new life, one he could only hope wouldn't be stripped away again.

Good Attributes:

Werewolf Physiology; As a Carsaeus, Warwick has inherited attributes from his father's corrupted blood. His half demon heritage has blessed him with an enhanced set of physical attributes. Of his particularly heightened attributes his strength reigns supreme however, allowing him to keep up with and even overpower the most physically oriented races of the world. He has also inherited many physical features to show his ancestry as well. His teeth are nothing like an average human's, with every single one pointed and naturally crafted to tear meat from bone with his incisors even longer than normal. His fingers and toes also end in hooked claw like nails rather than only covering the top portion of his digits and growing to rounded points. His senses are enhanced to the superhuman as well, with eyes more than capable of seeing in the darkness of night, ears capable of picking up the most minute of sounds and most powerful of all, a sense of smell that dwarfs what more civilized races can dream to have. His regenerative capabilities are also heightened, allowing him to recover from wounds at an increased rate although no where close to instantaneous.

Transformation; In times of great emotional strife or physical danger, Warwick is prone to succumbing to his instincts as a self defense mechanism. Should he ever give in, his physical form morphs to that of a massive bipedal wolf demon roughly eight and a half feet from head to toe and several hundred pounds. In this form, he gains a thick layer of thick black hide, rife with the smell of brimstone and incredibly resilient to damage. Additionally, his physical attributes are further boosted.

Loyal; Perhaps owning to his species, Warwick is an incredibly loyal companion. While his very abrasive behavior can turn away any who wish to call him a friend those who do find a place close in his heart. Having never had anyone look past what he was to get close with him, he cherishes any friends he manages to make and will defend those who earn his trust violently much like an alpha protecting his pack.

Combat Ready; Having to fend for himself in a world that holds, at best, a disdain for his kind, Warwick was forced to verse himself in the ways of combat to defend himself. Using his bestial features and unnatural physical attributes, he's managed to mold himself into a fearsome warrior who favors unarmed, close quarters combat above all else. While he lacks more traditional technique, he makes up for it with feral unpredictability and tenacity.

Bad Attributes:

Werewolf Physiology; As a half demon, Warwick also boasts the weaknesses of his tainted family line. Holy artifacts that would fend off demons also effect him much as they would a full blooded Inferno walker. Like demons, he is also susceptible to demonology spells and while he cannot fully be banished to the Infernal Realm, those who practice that particular school will find him to be manipulable should their skill surpass his own. Additionally, a weakness that belongs to his wolf lineage alone and not to all demons is his vulnerability to silver. While its effect vary widely on how pure the metal is, coming into contact with such a substance can cause him anything from a moderate rash to burns akin to touching a hot iron.

Transformation; While transforming gives Warwick great strength to defend himself with, it comes at the loss of his humanity. In this form he becomes a feral monster akin to what many would assume of the Inferno, rampaging against all those he comes into contact with, friend or foe. In such a rampage he'll happily murder his closest companions and either must be physically restrained or worst, killed to put a stop to it prematurely. In this form he is far more susceptible to other demonologists and his weakness to many demon banes grows even stronger.

Socially Challenged; Warwick's social skills are very lacking. Not only was he an outcast for most of his young life, but being judged and looked down upon by so many people has ruined his outlook on many. He is rude, aggressive and more often than not violent to those around him, partially out of spite and partially to protect himself. It's difficult for him to rely upon others, let alone trust them and he finds himself at odds with many of those he comes into contact with simply because of his behavior, let alone his demonic traits.

Secret Word: Rebirth

[cqbexpt]

Baulder

UserName: cqbexpt

Character name: "Scarred hand", "Midnight", Baulder

Age: 30~

Mageblood type: Obiligatio

Favored Magic Class: Demonomancy

Previous Magic training: None that he can remember anyways

Race: Rheven-ari, Shayahn

Appearance: Burned in 3 clawed hand along the left side of his head, palm is centered over his eye. Has rather pale except around his face. This is due to him keeping himself covered most of the time due to his race being able to burn easily as a rule. His hair is black and stops just above his shoulders. He is as strong as most humans which makes his slim frame look rather muscular. Wears a scarf over the lower parts of his face most of the time but the rest of his clothes are generally either patchwork wraps or ropes. Though he is currently looking for new clothes.

Height: 6'2"

Short Bio: Baulder knows where he was born but that was only because he was told that few of his kind are born off midnight island. Though like most things he cannot remember exactly where. He has fragments of information of his home island such as sights, sounds, smells. But none of it makes any sense, to him anything before what he is now is nothing but a jumbled mess of emotions and sensory data. He assumes he was seeking knowledge of some kind as he has heard from a few other Rheven-ari that would have been the reason why he would of left. Though he assumes if he goes back there perhaps it might show him more of his past self. Baulder would never allow himself to do that though, it would kill him.....well atleast the person he was now. He has no desire to go back to being what he was whatever, it was that might be why he now fears his own sanity so.

Regardless what he can actually remember begins after the incident. He remembered waking up in a forest, surrounded by gutted wolves and scorched pelts. There were a group of humans surrounding him axes clenched and bows drawn. He remembered hitting the dirt before passing out. When he awoke he found himself in a house tied to a bed with an old women standing over him. He found out that the villagers that were standing over him earlier were a hunting party that found him out in the woods near their village. They had taken him back to their village once they realized that he was suffering from blood sickness. He had been unconscious for close to a week and the mayor of the village was close to having him killed as a sacrifice to some god he can't remember. For several days after he first woke up he was still confined to the house they had placed him in continuously asking him what happened in the woods. His answer was that he didn't know, which was of course the truth. They only let him leave once they managed to get a psychomancer from the village over to come and interrogate him. He remembered the women's face as it became wide eyed and she told them that he really didn't know.

The villagers told him that he owed them a debt for saving his life and at the time he wasn't sure what else he should be doing and thus agreed to pay it back with work. He assisted around the village for over a year helping build things or just being a courier for people. However this is what perhaps sparked his decent into madness. Baulder is very unsure of what it was like before his insanity began to fester but he knows that there was a time before it. However before he fully became overcome with insanity he was told the debt had been repaid, perhaps because they were just growing tired of his strangeness though. He took food and a map and was told that the next day he should head to the Twilight college. He did have blood sickness before and he guessed that it made sense for him to go somewhere that could atleast tell him what he was. The night before he left however he heard the name "Baulder" said to him louder and louder each time in a dream. When it began screaming the name at him he awoke. He decided that was what his name was, what else could it have been he thought.

So with a name and a purpose he set off to the college. It took him nearly a month to figure out where he was actually going. Though he was thankful now that the villagers had brought him along on their hunting parties. They never did teach him how to properly navigate the world though. He spent many months living off the land and descending deeper into the grips of insanity as he made his way to the college. Talking to people is what held it off in the beginning but now that he was alone it was able to take it's firm grip of him. He began avoiding cities in their entirety as for some reason he was beginning to like his own ramblings. He was never able to tell if they were all his though. However he eventually made his way south to the College.

Good Attributes: Insanity - While this is also a negative attribute it has it's benefits. Psychomancers not particularly skilled in their art would have a hard time trying to pin down what exactly they were looking at if they peered into his thoughts. His mind is either thinking a million things at once or absolutely nothing at all, a trait which is bolstered by his species natural inclination towards different ways of thinking. It is best not to tread where not even he would.

Species traits - Being a Rheven-ari comes with some upsides. Such as being resistant to piercing weapons, being able to outrun a majority of humans, multiple hearts and having an ability to sense magic in others.

Adaptable - Being able to change his way of thinking for the most part allows him to approach challenges a different way if his current method is not working. This coupled with an extremely fast thought process gives him an advantage over some of the races that inhabit the world.

Bad Attributes: Insanity - He will occasionally hear voices that are not there or create entire persons inside his head who he will talk to and quickly dismiss. His mind is a puzzle wrapped in an enigma. While sometimes he will have his moments of complete clarity most of the time he is bordering on the edge of being socially tolerable by most people whether he catches it or not is completely up to chance. However since he has been this way for so long he can't remember what it is like to actually be sane and thus absolutely fears the prospect of being such.

Amnesia - He can't remember a single thing about himself before about 2 years ago, other than a few random pieces that slip out of the block. Baulder fears what ever lies on the other side of the block and will do anything to avoid it being taken away.

Distrustful of Senses - He almost never trusts what his mind is telling him is happening. He heavily scrutinizes anything his eyes or ears tell him and thus may be a little slow to act.

Secret Word: Rebirth

[Kangutso]

Name: Weredrake
Curse/Virus/Etc: Cursed Blood
Average Lifespan: Infected life span increases to 400-500 years of age. In place of aging, they get substantially weaker in the last 50 years of life.

Description:
-Races Effected: Humans, elves, and half-breeds in which the human/elf side is dominant
-Method(s):
+The first method is via transfer of the weredrake's blood into the infectee, likely via a cut on the palm, but other wounds or methods that allow entry to the body are acceptable. Now the last part of this, both parties must be willing for any effect, otherwise the infectee, instead of changing, will fall ill instead of going through their first change.
+The second method does not require either party's acceptance or willingness to be infected, which will lead to unintentional infection. Similar to the first method in that it requires transfer of blood from a weredrake, though it is a lot more potent so that only a little blood is all it would take to be infected.
+The third method is via intercourse, sex. The weredrake must be male and the infectee to be female for this to occur, and is oddly enough the most likely way to become a weredrake, with no way of telling such until, well, the first change.
+The fourth and final method is procreation, in which there is a 50/50 chance of the child being born a weredrake. If the child is to be a weredrake, there are likely going to be complications during birth that may lead to death of parent, child, or both. Recomend having a medical professional on hand or nearby.

-Appearance: The dragon form of a weredrake is what would be the stereotypical fantasy European dragon. Four legs, two wings, a medium to long neck, with the addition of plumage in place of hair on the head. The scales on their spine are thicker and wider, yet more flexible, going from the base of the back of the head to near the end of the tail. They tend to have two short, straight horns growing out of the back of the head in a V shape. The largest they get is enough to carry at least one, at most two, people of their shoulders.

Reference pic

Ignore the spines.

-Transformation: First thing to note, freshly turned weredrakes cannot control themselves, nor do they remember being human, during the first several transformations. They are in a state of confusion and rage that gets better with each change, as the memories in their dragon form build up. The transformations are influenced by certain lunar phases, which forces them into dragon form until the night following the end of such, this occurs during solstices as well. Early on, weredrakes can change upon losing consciousness, whether it be caused by a fight or even simply going to sleep. Note: There are no signs of having become a weredrake until one goes through the change, and the first transformation will only occur during the next time of forced change, and even then only if they are unconscious. One must be at least a certain age before the first change, usually a few years after maturity.

+Growth- The first dragon form of a weredrake has little more mass then their normal form, making them easier to deal with, being equivalent to the normal form on all fours with about 2-3 inches added. As of the first forced transformation growth starts, every 2-3 months their size grows gradually until the dragon form reaches its max size at right around 2 years. Once fully grown they are about 6 foot in height from foot to shoulder, neck at about 3 feet in length with the horns being an additional foot. The tail makes up half the length of the body, which is around 20 feet total. The wingspan can, and usually will, reach up to 20-25 feet in diameter, adjust based on the dragon form, as these measurements can vary with each individual.

-Breaths: While a weredrake in dragon form cannot use magic, its mageblood has an effect on its breath. Which results in a variety of them. If one does not have mageblood, they have no breath. All breaths start off weak and get stronger over time. A weredrake's breath is determined by their mageblood, and their primary school. The breaths are as listed:
+Vitamancy: Breath that does specifically heals at first, can at the start speed ones recovery from pysical injury.
+Pyromancy: The basic fire breath. Fire is still fire, but this breath like all others gets more powerful over time, eventually being able to start melting metal after a few bursts.
+Hydromancy: This breath is more unique as it isn't exactly a breath, those weredrakes with Hydromancy become capable of breathing underwater. At first only a few minutes.
+Cryomancy: Frost breathe, while not strong enough to be overly effective at first, it can become powerful enough in the future to freeze enemies/things solid in a few bursts.
+Aeromancy: Spits out a small, violent but short lived tornado out. As one grow's stronger the tornado grows in size and intensity.
+Electromancy: Static breath, at first only strong enough to to stun parts of someone, but with the potential to eventually shoot small bolts of electricity out of one's mouth.
+Geomancy: A deep bellow capable of splitting stone, and at high levels, even metal.
+Herbamancy: This breath revives, grows, restores, and can change plants in different ways.
+Necromancy: Temporary animation of, you guessed it, inanimate objects. At first only capable of animating smaller objects such as toys, twigs and the like.
+Demonomancy: Soul corruption, while it doesn't physically damage an individual, slowly coorupts a being with demonic energy. In other words, it makes them curl and howl in pain as their soul is seared with demonic energy. This, however, makes the weredrake suseptable to control of demons or demonomacers while in use.
+Noxomancy: Causes slow decay of flesh or materials, flesh decays as one would expect, while armor and such rust and fall apart. One cannot use this on mortal flesh unless said mortal is already dead or dying, however.
+Psychomancy: Throw's forth a gas that causes those that inhale it to go into as confused or hallucinogenic state. At later stages, the effects can be changed.

Origin: N/A (Currently Unknown, to be discovered)

Strengths:
-Sight, hearing, and smell are all heightened above the norm while in their dragon form. Their sight is equivilent to, if not better than that of an eagles, able to spot and recognize objects or people with flying at low altitude, in addition to night vision that is capable of working in near pitch darkness. They could, with some training and practice, ascertain where someone has been by there smell, guess as to their prior activities, perhaps even figure out what they ate the day before, given they haven't washed, as well as being capable of differentiating scents. Their hearing is sharp, yet resilient, as they can pick up what people are saying through a thick brick wall, but can handle most loud noises such as explosions or banshee screams.
-The scales on dragon form act as a form of natural armor. At first they are little more effective than leather, growing harder with each forced change. At their strongest point, cutting and piercing weapons have little chance of getting through unless it is a direct hit. Blunt weapons such as hammers, however, are most effective as they can not only break the scales and create weak points, but also cause damage under them.
-Physical abilities are, as expected, quite a bit stronger in dragon form. Once fully grown they're strength is equivalent to that of an elephant's, capable of lifting tree or hauling two people. They're capable of running at speeds equal to a cheetah's for 10 minutes at a time at a flat out run, carrying weight with it won't slow them down much either.

Weaknesses:
-Weredrakes cannot use magic or spells while in dragon form, it is instead replaced by their breath ability.
-A weredrake's first transformation has little more mass than it did in human/elf form. So it is not too much stronger either. In fact, they might as well be as strong as they were before.
-They can only use their breaths in short bursts, at first not at all, and when they start the bursts aren't even half a second long. The longest one burst can last is 2 seconds long, and at least as many seconds must pass before the next one.
-Newly turned weredrakes are incapable of regular speech at first and will usually fly into a rage from the pain of changing.
-At first incapable of flight, they have to learn how.
Other: N/A

[Fallenreaper]

Name: Ridge Hounds/ Ravine Hounds
Class: Medium 4 foot high
Species type: Ravine/Surface
Image/Appearance Description:

Main body is a dune hue yellow and hairless, wrinkled skin and no eyes. Merely oversized nostrils and large sensory glands upon its shoulders that show off vibrate colors in contrast to its bland appearance. Males have two large red lines reaching over the main body, ending at the tail base.

Ones that have found themselves in the Ravine have been altered only in color, instead of the light dune yellow their skin is pale white and have a slight illumination from the large portion of its diet, glowing magma shrimp. Males have a black, single stripe from neck to tail base.

Brief on Behavior:
There 2 types of behavior from Ridge Hounds to be noted: Pack and loner.

Pack

The large number of Ridges, limited area, and consistent hunger has made these creatures aggressive and ill tempered. Females usually snapping at the tails of others merely brushing by and start in-fight that usually end in blood and death. Reasons are that scent of blood, the pack turns on the injured in a few, quick seconds until there’s little left. The same practices are common in hunting. Instead of relying on tactics and hunting patterns like wolves, Ridge Hounds assaults are uncoordinated and reckless trying to take the prey down with numbers. These number are easily replenished over time when the next spanning happens. Competition for food is always present since they seem to have a high metabolism causing their thin, wiry appearance.

Loner

Unlike pack Ridges, loners aren’t driven by competition for food. They are forced to use different tactics then masses to overwhelm the prey, allowing most to reach older ages. Tactics vary from chasing prey off sheer drop offs, slicing venerable vessels, waiting until the creature collapses from weakness or eating the carcass of long dead animals. Often they avoid head to head confrontation, their intelligence built up over the choice of living alone. In tune with the pack habits, a female loner isn’t picky about cannibalism and will gorge on an unattended clutch just to make space for a few of her own. These are the ones every traveler should be wary about since due to high quality of their diet, loner’s built are far stronger and can take a bit more damage than one from the pack.

Abilities:

Heighten Senses: Blind and without eyesight, they can only hear thanks to the shoulder ‘ears’ fanning out to absorb vibrations in the air and through its thick callous pad on its claws like oversize ear drums. Able to shut them off and on when needed. It also aids in gathering and storing heat in the body, allowing Ridge Hounds to spend or expel it whenever needed.

Strong Claws and Jaws: Strength enough to grind rock into sand within its large mantis like claws and its elongated jaws, they are made to feed off the calcium and meat of their prey storing lean layer of fat and water between the muscle and in the wrinkled skin.

Sulkus Gland: Unable to detect poison though taste, the Ridge Hounds are able to detect sour odors of most poisons even if they are overwhelmed by other messes of smells. A specialized gland in the brain is created for the pure sorting of smells alone and works rather quickly, independent of the other brain functions. Excellent poison detectors, the organ can be harvested and cut into pieces. Each piece when touching a poisonous material will illuminate a vivid purple and rotten smell used to get the creature’s attention.

Poison Tolerance (only Ravine Ridge Hounds): Due to their diet, these creatures’ sense of taste has been lost over time and years of evolution leaving even the worse tasting creatures to become a victim to a Ridge Hound’s huge hunger. Resistant to the poisonous creatures through consumption only, it’s not odd to see very little of any Ravine animal remains afterwards if any and areas littered with thousands of bones, corpses, or herds literally picked clean in little less than a week’s time from a passing pack.

Location: Isolated oasis where jungle and sand clash in the region of Yarsomere.

Throughout the Ravine, the deeper one goes the less likely they are to encounter one/many as the environment becomes too hot for most Ravine Ridges to handle or adapt to. They enjoy large pre made tunnels which are dug and large enough to carry them, often killing and devouring any creature to cross their path.

Extra:

Packs of Ridge hounds, usually more common in the Ravine, consist of 80-100/ or more members at any giving time. Their large number balances out the fact the individual pack members can’t take extreme damage without dying soon after, the skull light weight and made from fragile bone that a well-placed kick could end up a killing blow. This is only consistent with pack Ridge Hound however. Some theorize that the reason is due to malnutrition, the gluttonous behavior and vast number of infighting has taken its tolls which changes upon drifting into loner hunters, lacking such problems. Another is the Pack’s diet, the plants eaten by herbivores and passing onto the carnivores that eat them weaken the bone frames.

Ridges in the Ravines are born female but with both sets of reproductive anatomy (males are sucked into their bodies when not in use), unlike their topside brethren where the genders are separated at birth. Females that don’t lay eggs will change their gender. Becoming males to fertilize the eggs and unable to change their gender again, staying males and losing the ability to produce eggs for the rest of their lives. Several males can fertilize, in a way like salmon does, the same leathery egg clutch which are able to found anywhere from high ledges to stuck to wall thanks to the sticky substance secreted from the shell upon lying.

Both species have the same breeding habits, just the amount differs. Female Ridge Hounds layup to 20 eggs every half a year, keeping their numbers easily manageable and allowing the body to recoup needed minerals over time for egg health. Ravine Ridges however breed 50-100 eggs per female every month, about only 2/3 of these eggs will live long after being fertilizing by scatters of males. Less would make it into adulthood and none into ripe old age, no knowledge of any Ridge dying of old age.

The Ridge Hound parts are used for many potions and uses, the Sulkus for example can be used as poison detectors. Their meat is sinewy but extremely juicy with flavor from the topside breed. On the other hand, those found in the Ravine’s has a delicate vein at the skull back just under the lip that requires a skilled hand and steady attention to remove, a key ingredient in most Ravine anti-venoms. A wrong slice would make the vein explode and the clear fluid turned black becoming useless.

[Fallenreaper]

Name: Ironx

Class: Large (rhino sized)

Species type: Metal Rhino

Image/Appearance Description:



Females have shorter, blunt tipped horns then males. The dominate males hold the larger horns due to increase testosterone levels from its high ranks.

Brief on Behavior:

An Ironx is a social, docile creature that consumes variety type of metal, ores and rock as its main diet. Often seen and heard bashing its large curved head into ground, the hardened parts from its long horn to the ‘bearded’ chin is reinforced for breaking up the topside layers to reach the taster mineral beneath. These large mammals can eat as little as few tons of metal to the weight of a small hill on average, depending on the quality of the minerals consumed. Running in herds consistent of 15-20 members, there is a close kinship with most of the members of the group displayed in gentle rubbing of hides and close proximity like most herd animals. It also for protection for their eyesight is based on movement, making it hard for a predator to sneak up on an Ironx herd thanks to the many eyes constantly peering about.

Leading and general protection falls to the dominate male, called a Ram, usually covered in trophies of his duty and most aggressive of the bunch. In maintain his rank he is usually the Ironx with the toughest hide and he alone is allowed to breed with the females. Other males in the group tend to be passive but quickly turn aggressive when danger arrives and will aid the dominate male in defending the herd from predators or rarely challenging him to leadership. The Ram often chases young male offspring away from the herd at the time they reach adulthood, the positive in this is that male keeps his standings while passing his genes and creating new herds. Sometimes during these events a female or two will end up following the banished male. The young male will end up confronting other herds, attempting stealing a female or two into his own herd before the current dominate male can realize it. This reason is enough for a dominate Ironx to be always be alert. When a dominate male loses a challenge the creature is forced into the back of the herd, usually ending up being picked off by carnivores though the herd will leap to the creature’s defense, usually a short confrontation, before backing off the moment they realize the creature is dead.

Females are passive and gentle, cows and yearlings making up the majority of the herd, tending to stick close. The common defense is to go into an all-out stampede of panicked beasts’ hell bent for the horizon. During this behavior, common and placid habits of the Ironx are tossed out the window with only one thing on their mind: Just run, leaving everything, living or dead, in their path trampled underfoot.

Abilities:

Hard outer shell: From eating hard rock, ores and metals, their stomach digests it thanks to the harsh acids. Then turning it into a liquid, it is then secreted from its pores to create an outer casting. The only places spared from this process are the joints, a thin layer of skin allowing mobility. Nutrients from fossilized animals and plants embedded in the digested rocks are separated, used as absorbed substance for the shell which is comprised of the ores’ material itself. Every year just in the season between spring and summer, the creatures shed their outside skin leaving behind a moist soften layer underneath that must take months to dry. Currently the most dangerous time for Ironx, it makes them vulnerable to attack by larger predators and even clever smaller ones thinning out their numbers.

Flat, grinding teeth: Their teeth are among one of the hardest substances in Tiien, they have to be to crack and grind the materials they feed upon. Many had considered using Ironx teeth for weaponry and armory, yet to harvest enough would require the slaughtering over thousands Ironx just to create a single, human size armor, leaving much raw material behind. In the end the effort isn’t worth the production and far too wasteful.

Razor sharp horn (males only): Strong to stand large amounts of pressure and easily slice human flesh, the Ironx’s horn can’t cut completely though the hide of other challenging Ironx most the time or armor strength objects. Merely causing cracks or large chucks to fall off the Ironx’s hide, leading an exposed area that isn’t protected for a few months as if they had only shed their skin in that section, leaving it wet and soft. Though rare since the Ironx tends to allow his foe to back away from the fight, a horn can end up killing a challenger if plunged into any soft plated armor from time to time.

Motion and excellent hearing sense: Ironx have excellent hearing, able to detect very faint sounds from a pin dropping to the cracking of stone under foot. However their sense of sight is based on motion alone, as long as predator or creature continues to move the Ironx’s brain picks up the tiny vibrations in the air thanks to the specialized organ in the back of its head. The long horn in back stretches its sense of motion to a vast area in its surroundings.

Location: Djarkel

Extra:

In tamed herds, hide thick and hardness can be influence by the irons, ores or minerals fed to the beasts, creating large qualities of strengths from Copper, Bronze and few other lesser metals. Platinum, Titanium, and higher strength metals may be produced as well but rarely at any quality near the original because of the high density is too difficult for their body to break and reform it. It also explains why wild herds’ shells are considered less ‘pure’ due to the lack of controlled ingredients in their diet, their casted off outer layer is a mixture of the metals in unpredictable strengths. Using the Ironx’s hide is a cheaper alternative to mining large quantities; the quality is sacrificed somewhat by the metal lasting only half as long making the mining of such ores still required. An Ironx’s hide strength is best depicted by the metal’s color in the hide’s shine and appearance, often determining their rank within the herd with the strongest taking the highest rank.

Ironx meat is thick, and grey in color with a slight gravelly texture and sparkle like some minerals when left uncooked. When inflamed by extremely hot temperatures the meat has a smoky, hearty flavor like prime rib that flakes off in one’s mouth. A native dish called Shigha is to cut out the Ironx brain, coat it in heavy seasoning and sea salt, wrapped in a heavy board leaf before burying under low burning embers, covering it over with a pile of rocks for a day. The dish looks like a greyish pink version of homemade cheese and curled milk cross, the wrinkles crumbling and thick before it’s put into soup. The hint of sweet, smoky flavor surpasses its unappetizing appearance. Ironx blood is black often used for clothing dye and rock jewelry. Grinded up bones are used in variety of fertilizers, ideal from the soil’s nutrients stored in the marrow fit for growing potted plants or crops in other lands.

[Leon5431]

Yay Wintercrest! It's honestly a wonder I still had this, but hey I'm not complaining.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Settlement name: Wintercrest

Type: Large city

Description: Wintercrest was founded by an Eanian family by the name of Fellrien twenty years ago. Before Fellrien came to the city, it went by another name, Dilanol and was ruled by a Sovereign King, Frendril. Built at the base of the Mithril rich mountain on the border of Eania and Djarkel, Dilanol made its beginning as a mining town but quickly grew to a city. Under Frendril's rule Dilanol barely managed to maintain its sovereignty, many times nearly falling to either Eania or Djarkel only being saved with the King offered a substantial amount of gold to keep his cities sovereignty. But by doing so he sowed the seeds of his own downfall. By the end of it the city owed both Eania and Djarkel a substantial amount of gold and was only able to pay it off by forcing its people into the Mithril mines that ran deep into the mountain or into military service. Every citizen either enlisted for a military life, which was more of filling the role of slave drivers, or were forced to work in the mine to pay off the massive debt that crippled the city. Yet still, the city survived if not barely, only having just enough to stay afloat. This is how the city remained, for many a year until house Fellrien came.

In Eania house Fellrien was the the reigning house in the south easternmost region of Eania. Another house, house Levaran who had sworn fealty to house Fellrien coveted their lands and their power. Seeking anyway they could to undermine their claim house Levaran stumbled across a secret. House Fellrien had a line of gifted Lues blood mages in their midst. The second this was discovered Levaran went about setting to work sparking Fellrien’s downfall. Twisting the image of the noble rulers to make them seem to be corrupt Djarkel mind controllers. Unrest spread like a disease, house Fellrien tried to fight it but their downfall was almost assured. Soon other houses sworn to fealty rose up against their Liege Lords. Very few of the houses remained loyal to Fellrien and those that did were prosecuted to the same extent. A bloody civil war erupted between the houses, split by those loyal to Fellrien and those who rose up against them.

For nearly two years the small civil war raged. Until finally the High King stepped in to end it. The King joined on the side of house Levaran, having fallen sway to the lies spread about Fellrien being mind controllers and Djarkel sympathizers. Against both the rebelling lords and the High King himself, house Fellrien and their allies fought a losing battle. Until finally, house Fellrien's home city, the capital of the region, Rayheaven was razed to the ground. Every house and every building burned to the ground, every man, woman and child even the livestock were slaughtered in droves, including half of house Fellrien's family. Battered, half destroyed and officially beaten, house Fellrien and what was left of her allies retreated, into Djarkel territory. Hoping to fare better there than against their own people.

In the time between their defeat and the capture of Dilanol, or as it will come to be called Wintercrest, the few other houses that fled with them were incorporated into house Fellrien. Either by adoption or marriage. The now one unified house, brought what was left of their armies together under one banner. Unable to survive as nomadic outcasts their gaze fell upon the Sovereign cities separating Eania and Djarkel. Desperate to find a place to survive, and unable to retake the lands lost to Eania and unwilling to risk anything with Djarkel the people of house Fellrien found themselves with little other options. Their desperate gaze settled upon the city of Dilanol. With proper leadership and no small manner of hard work this could be made the seat of an empire and so House Fellrien went to war.

The city held for days, its defenses built to last, supported by the natural defense of the mountain. But eventually the poor unequipped armies of Frendril fell to the battle hardened veterans of house Fellrien. With the conquest of Dilanol and the freeing ofcitizens from the near slave like lifestyle, House Fellrien's survival was assured. The noble house made a home out of the mountain city. Changing the name from Dilanol to Wintercrest. In time and with no small amount of hard effort the city saw a change from the desperate state it had been in under King Fendril. A new aged seemed to be dawning for the sovereign city. Thanks to it’s lucrative mithril mines Wintercrest received a large amount of trade from the other sovereign cities and even eventually the surrounding empires. The people who had remained loyal to and had followed house Fellrien had changed, they were no longer the outcasts from Eania. They were now the proud people of Wintercrest.

Djarkel was the first to accept the sovereignty of the new city, seeing it as a lucrative trade partner their relationship can generally be seen as much more positive than the city's relationship with Eania. When word reached house Levaran of House Fellrien’s survival they were swift to gather an army and march to city and demand the heads of House Fellrien’s members seeing them still as enemies of the state. As the much larger Eanian army starved out the city until their demands were met they were surprised when an army from Djarkel arrived demanding they lift the siege. Fearing a fight on two fronts the Eanian army lifted their siege and pulled their forces out. After the Eanian army had retreated the Djarkel general met with House Fellrien’s leader, the Lord of Wintercrest, Daegon Fellrien. The Djarkel general explain that they arrived to ensure that Wintercrest’s sovereignty remained untouched. Though many speculated that their intentions were much more selfish than they had presented them to be.

But so Wintercrest’s survival was assured ever so barely. With time Eania began openly trading with the sovereign city and relations improved ever so slightly. Still, those who live in the city of Wintercrest that followed with House Fellrien harbor strong grudges against the people of Eania and there is still many of those who stick to the old Eanian ways of resenting Djarkel.

The city has become a melting pot for cultural influence from the surrounding empires and is seen as something of a safe haven from both Eania and Djarkel where no one can be prosecuted for their blood or their race and people may forge their own beginnings.

Alignment: Neutral, they are distrustful and at times hateful to both Eania and Djarkel, though their relationship is easily much better with Djarkel then it is with Eania if not for their mutual need for one another.

Location: Some ways North of the Twilight college, on the opposite side of the mountain built near its base, right along the border of Eania and Djarkel.