Short and lithe, Kat's not the most… intimidating figure. What she lacks in size though, she makes up in her striking appearance. With skin as dark as the night sky, silver eyes, and straight white hair cropped in a short, fluffy style, Kat attracts attention wherever she goes. Even more noteworthy than her coloring though, is the fact that she lacks a right arm. In its place is a scarred patch of flesh, cut right where the shoulder meets her torso. Kat has a tendency to simply chop the right sleeves off of her tops to get rid of the excess fabric, though she always wraps her torso in plain white bandages, so as not to let others see her scar. She wears soft leather boots, brown pants and a green tunic, and has various smaller scars littering her body. Kat also has a necklace with a thin silver chain, and an arrow charm on it, far more expensive than the rest of her outfit combined – it's the one thing she refuses to part with, even if it would get her hot meals and a roof over her head for three months.
Age: 23
Race:Human
Gender: Female
Height and Weight: 5'2", 105 lbs.
Personality: Kat's always been someone with… flexible morals. She knows how to manipulate and work a situation to her advantage, but lately she's been favoring the straight-forward method of negotiations – that is, outright threats of violence. Though very clever and resourceful, she's never had an official education and tends to ignore other perspectives if they don't suit her interests. Kat is more solitary than social, and tends to keep to herself, finding entertainment in whatever's available to her. She's slow to trust, and even slower to confide, but when she does truly love something – or someone – she'll give her whole heart… unfortunately, this hasn't worked out too well for her in the past, leaving her guarded and distant. She'll snark and cajole and tease with the best of them, but when it comes to an actual personal connection she finds it safer to just shut down.
History: Kat is from a small village, far from Toruka, in one of the coldest areas in the known world. Born to an unknown family, she grew up primarily living on the streets, stealing whatever she could. It worked out just fine – that is, until she was caught by the grouchiest old man in the village when she was twelve. After giving her a good beating for stealing, he took a good look at her and decided she could do more with her life. That was when Kat first touched a bow. The old man taught her archery, and over the years, she became known as the best sharp shooter for miles around, winning dozens of competitions and making her old man proud – not that he would ever say it. Eventually he died, as elderly do, and with nothing rooting her to the village anymore, Kat took to exploring, using her skill with a bow to get by, whether that meant hunting for food or entering archery competitions in whatever town she happened to stop by.
Of course it stands to reason that a young human woman can only travel by herself through the wilderness for so long before running into trouble. That trouble came in the form of a hungry jaguar, one particularly harsh winter. It attacked her as she was traveling through the forest on her way to her old village, deciding to pay the old man her yearly respects. By the time she was even aware of its presence, it was too close for her to draw her bow, and it pounced, aiming for her neck. She tried to dodge, but it still managed to latch on to her shoulder, tearing at her flesh with its wicked teeth. The last thing Kat registered before she blacked out was the sound of an angry hiss, and the jaguar's roar. When Kat woke up, she was one arm short and lying in a frozen pool of her own blood. More alarming than that, however, was the giant snow leopard curled almost protectively around her. The next few days (weeks? She couldn't be sure) were a blur to her, but through it all, the snow leopard never left her side, constantly bringing her whole bushes of fruits and berries, ripped from the ground. Kat has no idea how she survived – surely she should've died from blood loss or infection or exposure or… ! But somehow she's still living, with a new companion at her side. Nowadays, Kat tends to stay away from most towns, as people usually freak out at the sight of Hel, and he typically refuses to leave her side. They make do well enough, hunting in the woods or laying traps for prey. If Kat needs to purchase something from a town, she'll either take up odd jobs or fall back on her childhood skills (stealing). When she heard about the mysterious dwarven city, she decided to go for it simply because it was something to do. While she does love her life with Hel, things can get a bit… monotonous. Besides, it's not like she's unaccustomed to danger.
Hel: Hel is, quite simply, a snow leopard big enough for Kat to ride around – which she does, often. After saving Kat from the jaguar, he seems to have grown tremendously attached to her. He was the one who nursed her back to health, though Kat barely remembers and still can't figure out how he managed to keep her from dying. He's a mystery to her in more ways than one, and it's not always clear if he answers to her, or the other way around. Nonetheless, he is unfailingly loyal to her, and quick to bear his fangs at anything he considers a threat. While Kat loves Hel, she's worried she's become too dependent on both his protection and emotional support. So far, life's done a fine job of teaching Kat that things she like tend to get taken away from her. She fears that when the day comes that Hel will no longer be at her side, she'll be both too weak and too broken to face whatever comes for her next.
Fears: Big cats (not including Hel), being weak, attachment
Likes: Hel, the night sky, archery, that one old man
Inventory: Water flask, tinder box, rope, spare clothes, various bandages and herbs for healing purposes, an old warm jacket, extra little glass bottles for anything she finds that she might want to take with her, an ocarina the old man used to play (not that Kat can play it now with only one hand… oh well, she was always awful at it anyway)
Purse: 6 coppers and 1 silver
Weapons: Having long-since abandoned her bow and quiver, Kat now keeps an array of knives and daggers on her at all times, used for either throwing or slashing. Other than that, Hel's really the only form of defense she needs.
Armor: Kat's not really one for heavy armor, preferring speed over protection. She wears a leather arm guard on her left side, and some leather armor under her tunic, but that's about it.
Fighting Style: Though in the past, Kat was much more of a ranged fighter with her bow, she did grow up learning how to work a knife… of course, she always used her hand for that. Regardless, even if Kat's not as much help in a fight now, she can still slash and stab her way through… well, enough to give Hel time to jump in and maul everyone. Hel fights pretty much how you'd expect a giant snow leopard to; lots of claws, fangs, terrified cries of men… y'know, the good stuff. The two have also gotten pretty good at using ambush tactics – typically with Kat as the bait.
Age:28
Race:Human
Gender:Female
Height and Weight: 5 foot 11, 83kg
Eye color: Brown
Scars: One over near the far right of the right eye that splits her eyebrow and travels down to the tip of her cheek. She also has a few decorating her back and arms from various fights.
Personality:Osla acts just as you'd expect an orphan barbarian to act to be honest. She is brash, daring and hearty. There are three things she prioritizes in life, fighting and drinking, all of which she'd prefer to do with a few equally hearty chums. She becomes paranoid after long periods of no or a small amount of contact with other people. She is rather naïve and will often trust in the good heart of just about anyone she meets, leading to her being scammed quite often and losing quite the amount of money to back alley charlatans.
Fears:
-Zombies(Never seen one, never heard one, just terrifies her.)
-Becoming crippled
-Burning to death
Likes:
-Ale
-Roast pig
-The cold
History:
Osla was born in a trader's caravan on the road from the capital to a small village to buy low at said village and sell high at another city. Her father hunted various animals and sold their meat and skins to various other merchants within the cities and villages. Osla was rather unexpected, she was a small bit early and she was supposed to be born with the aid of the local village doctor. As a result of her early birth, she was rather weak and as a result they had to stop for a few days while both she and her mother got their strength back. The village doctor tended to both Osla and her mother when they arrived which resulted in another five day halt. Soon, they were on the road and cooking with gas again. The added morale boost from Osla's birth kept everyone in such good moods that they earned more than they ever did.
Years later and her father was training her to take the reins from him and become as great a hunter as he was. But after a few months of her training, disaster struck. They were on the road after a successful hunt and were ambushed by bandits who had been stalking them for a few days. They slaughtered her parents in cold blood and hit her with an arrow to the shoulder of which the scar she still holds to this day. She managed to get away with what little money she had on her at the time and sought refuge at a local village. Soon enough her money ran out though and she had to either die on the streets or face the wilds and hope for a good hunt. She opted for the better option of a shot at survival. Fortune favoured her and she managed to survive out in the wilds long enough to buy herself a steady supply of supplements and arrows.
Osla began to spend less and less time in villages and cities, and more in the wilds hunting. She began to lose all the politeness and social necessities once taught by her parents when she was young and gradually became more and more barbaric. Soon she only returned to civilization to sell her stock and buy more supplies that is until she ran into a hunting company passing through a wild she was hunting in. They gradually stole more and more kills from her and eventually she decided to confront them.
The company was irregularly large for a hunting troupe, there were four hunters, even stranger was the fact that the majority of them were women with only one man being present. At first, Osla was rather hostile to the group and only one of the huntresses managed to negotiate with Osla enough for her to realize that she was being stupid and that the hunters had no idea of her presence. After a day or two of hunting with the group, they asked her to join them, she accepted gleefully and practically went through what little ale they had within a day or two.
Over time, Osla began to bond with the huntress who had convinced her that they were friendly and after a few months in the group entered into a relationship together. They were together for a year before the second major disaster in Osla's life happened. They were hunting a pack of wolves when one got behind the group and managed to pounce on one of them before tearing the throat from Osla's girlfriend. In the confusion, another wolf killed the third member of the group before falling to a swift arrow from the male member of the group. After a small struggle the wolves were dead, and so were most of the group. Osla and the other last remaining member of the group decided to part ways, he went to the city to start a small trading business and Osla returned to the wilds where she would hunt and live in solitary for a few years before returning for one final hunt for treasure.
Inventory: Canteen of water, tinderbox, rations of meat.
Purse:[ 4 Copper, 1 silver
Weapons:
-Her shortsword
-Her longbow and arrows
Armor: Olsa wears sturdy iron chainmail under strong steel armor. The armor is rather old and has a few scrapes and dents here and there but is generally in a well maintained condition. A few bits of cloth here and there from past exploits dot around the armor with the main piece of cloth being the tattered rag that hangs from her belt which came with the armor as a cape.
Fighting style: Osla alternates between using her sword and her bow. When using her sword she largely bases her strategy on who her opponent is. If it is someone vastly stronger she will opt to dodge and wear her opponent down through speed advantage. If it is someone weaker than her she may opt to use her free hand to get a punch or two in while going on the offensive rather than the defensive. If it is someone equally matched then she will probably go for a mix of both. She only really uses her bow for hunting or for picking enemies off at long range.
Disheveled, unkempt and dirtied with a perpetual look of seeming detachment in his eyes, Ernst is a testament to the growing poverty of the Arcazia Empire and of its harsh feudal society in general: only a few articles on his person are truly his own, for the helm, sword, rusted mail and padded cloth that bulkily weigh down on him have been looted from the unfortunate dead. What remains of the items he has gotten honestly is a simple white shirt and pants, battered leather sandals, and a thick cap to keep the Sun’s gaze tolerable during work in the fields. Fortunately, however, he is blessed with a resilient constitution, as not even failing crop harvests and subsequent starvation has taken away the respectable musculature brought about by day-to-day hard labor.
He is a Northerner for sure: pale complexion, a small mouth, rigid nose, and a relatively flat face are outward expressions of the fact, though the blonde hair and blue eyes so many nobles covet to have their children posses are not displayed, and instead lurk hidden away in his mixed blood. Ernst has short, brown hair trimmed at the sides and back with forward locks hanging over his forehead, and eyes with brown irises. As a member of the lower strata, he indeed has weathered rough skin and hardened callouses on his hands and feet.
Age: 22
Race: Human
Gender: Male
Height: 6’0”
Weight: 84kg
Personality:
“Johann’s been stabbing Adam with his ‘sword’ and he ain’t dead yet! Hahahaha!”/I]
Ernst is down to earth and not prone to flights of fancy, though he does believe in spirits and magic. Being a peasant, he is almost without class, and his jokes and style of banter would prove offensive to those not of the lower strata, for often do they include some vulgarity or another. Frugal and mindful of the use of even the most simple of tools, he tries to keep everything as long-lasting as he can, from the plow he left in his village, to his sword and bow; he takes pains to ensure their longevity.
Raised in a tight-knit community, Ernst does his best to be trustworthy and is rather trusting in turn. His heart calls out for him to do good deeds, but the callousness demanded by life makes him ignore the homeless mother and child starving at the side of the road. But if he had the capacity to do so without endangering his position too much financially or otherwise, he would try to help.
He is courageous to a point, though he will run and encourage others to do so if the battle is being decisively lost.
Fears:
-Death
-Starvation
-Further misfortune
Likes:
-Surviving
-Work
-Money
History:The death of his mother due to complications regarding his delivery was but one of the many omens for the life of hardship that was to befall Ernst’s poor soul. He was born as the last child in a litter of four, amongst two sisters and a brother, in a remote, newly-founded village at the northern fringes of the Empire, called Rhoen. Sweet mercy demanded that he be given a good childhood and medieval society did what it could: he attended the small local church with his playmates and friends regularly in the morning for whatever education he could attain; hard, thankless labor followed after noon. He tended to the soil as the father of his father’s father did, alongside his siblings and neighbors. The Eppelmann family had always been that of farmers.
And skilled were they in the art of herbalism and agriculture. Yet they and their fellow villagers were only human, and thus could not stop the wrath of nature when it came in summers that were too hot, springs that were too cold, autumns that were too wet, and winters whose bitterness was nigh-unbearable. But nature showed her gentler side in that Rhoen’s area was blessed with large amounts of game in its myriad forests of pine and whispering spirits. Ernst and his family put to good use the training given to them by army soldiers when the Imperial Diet passed legislation requiring that all able men aged sixteen to forty practice with the longbow to ready themselves for war and conscription, by hunting elk and boar alike to supplement the crop harvest.
So life was harsh, but endurable. And to Ernst and his fellow villagers who knew nothing else but that life, they could do naught but endure.
But as the years went by and Ernst entered the magic of late adolescence and falling in-love until hail distracted him from that, the times grew worse, as for years the crop successively failed. What wine they could make from the shrunken fruits of the harvest was sour and harsh to the tongue, and not even the local priest, who performed an exorcism all over the fields to ward away evil spirits and demons, could help.
The Rhoeners tried to repair their home and fields, but were met only by failure as crops actually began to die after being planted. Not even the radical crop rotation method they had adopted only out of desperation from some clearly mad scholar bore any good results; it may have, in fact, exacerbated the problem! To offset the failure of the farmlands, they took to the forests and their unlimited number of animals to hunt, and for a time, the villagers feasted on meat. Then it seemed that, because of their greed, the forest was depriving them of game. And thus they came to know starvation.
But Northerners are a stubborn people who would do anything to preserve their homeland. This virtue became a curse as the Rhoeners tried in vain to reverse it all, while their lives were snuffed out one by one by the summers, springs, autumns and winters that each had their particular brand of extremes. Only a dozen and a half or so families remained when the first few finally began to emigrate.
And apparently, it was like this in great swathes of the Empire. The Rhoeners were but part of an exodus of people looking to find themselves a living. Southwards was the path to greener pastures yet these pastures seemed to be actively running away from Ernst as every village he and his family came upon were experiencing the same crop failures. It was also with dismay that one of them had been affected with plague, which killed his brother and a sister. Father tried to be strong, but he was old now, and succumbed to exhaustion. And so, Ernst, along with the beloved younger of his two elder sisters Julia, went south.
But Julia fell into despair and did not have the same patience as her brother. Provisions as they traveled were beginning to run low, and soon, Julia decided to settle as a prostitute in some brothel down the highway. While mildly disgusted by the act, Ernst understood that it was done only out of desperation. He tried to find what work he could nearby her brothel so they could support each other, but these were usually but odd jobs of carrying things and delivering messages. Though he found work as a carpenter for some noble constructing his family’s summer house, he earned little gold, and so, after saying farewell and making a promise to his whoring sister that he would come back, he went further South.
Yet only calamity would befall him, for as he rested in a roadside tavern (paying his stay via unpaid work as he could not afford to spend that much), a group of deserters from the local lord’s army barged into the building with swords drawn and demanded that the keeper and its patrons give them gold. This was yet another great display of the Empire’s growing poverty, for these soldiers’ purses were devoid of naught but the littlest coin, for their lord had no more money to pay their mounting arrears and thus suffered as everyone else.
Those who could, paid. Those who could not, were killed: for power was a strong wine, and the power of the sword in front of so many unarmed and unarmored civilians could skewer one’s morality so. The fearful Ernst was paralyzed as the soldiers covered both the back and front entrances of the tavern, and could only reply with a sorry “Forgive me, sir, but I haven’t any coin,” to the unhelmed bowman with the face crisscrossed with scars and a pointed dagger.
As expected, this dagger was plunged in Ernst’s direction, yet he had the foresight to know this was coming, and so broke the man’s jaw with a good fist even as he cocked his hand back. The farmer took the dagger and began to sprint towards the back entrance, enjoying divine intervention when a spearman suddenly tripped and unblocked the doorway in his fall. The other soldiers began to chase him, but the tavern’s patrons and staff started to attack them as they ran. For as these were but conscripted youths, save for the bowman with the dagger who seemed to be their leader, killing them was frightfully easy under the combined power of numerous boots smacking into their faces over and over.
When it was all done, Ernst had the good idea to loot a corpse or two. From this act of disrespecting the dead, he procured a gambeson, a mail shirt, an arming sword (undoubtedly stolen from a knight), new arrows and a simple helm with a nose guard that hung from the brow: good stuff that would have cost him no small amount of silver. Though three patrons lost their lives, Ernst was rewarded with some coin for making the first move by the tavern keeper. The youth then asked the keeper if she would hire him after this incident, half-jokingly offering to be a bodyguard, in the hopes that he could get some steady money now that he’d made a good impression (or so he thought) but the woman but frowned and said that they were already fully staffed.
Now armed and armored, Ernst continued his journey southward, and found no prosperity for him. No good work came to be, and the enlistment sergeants warned that even if he did join the standing army, there would be delays in his pay -- which, of course, meant that he wasn’t going to be paid at all.
Now, Ernst was never prone to flights of fancy, but desperation could do much to change a man. His many months of staying in inns and taverns without pay has brought to his ear much gossip, ancient treasure so unimaginably great in the bowels of some lost Dwarven city being one of the more interesting ones, along with other rumors of other treasures, both of which he was slowly coming to believe. He also came to know loneliness, for he longed for his far-away sister, the only other living member of the Eppelmann family, and of the older days, when things weren’t as bad.
He also tried to be a hunter in these more southward regions, only that it was apparently illegal to hunt deer, and the forests were already exhausted of their game. Every potential employer but showed him an empty palm faced at him, saying that he should have come earlier. Ernst’s despair deepened, and soon he was no better than a common thief. His pickpocketing skills, however, leave much to be desired as he was caught on his second try after chickening out on the first; so he went south again, this time to evade prosecution, finding himself in the village of Toruka.
If anything, Ernst at this point was incredibly unhappy. Life, already lacking luster for a peasant like him, seemed to have turned black. His movements were sluggish as he went to check the message board, and it was his slipping grip on sanity to consider and accept the proposal of the mystery man.
[I]“Gods and Kings do what they will, and the rest of us do what we must,” he said, reflecting on his life thus far as he steeled himself to accept death in this most desperate adventure. For what could he do but embark upon it, when he was almost out of money and not even the most menial of all work was available?
Inventory:
-Waterskin
-Tinderbox
-One set of clothes: cotton shirt, cotton pants, cotton cap
-Traveling backpack
-Dried river fish
Purse:
-A lonely silver coin
Weapons:
-Arming sword
-Hunting bow and a sizable quiver of bodkin arrows
-Farmer’s sickle
Armor:
-A long-sleeved cloth shirt, over which is
-A long-sleeved mail shirt, over which is
-A padded gambeson.
-Cloth trousers covered by the long flaps of the gambeson
-Leather sandals
Fighting Style:
Ernst, if given the choice, would fight at range. He prefers stealth and taking out the enemy from a distance rather than being loud and charging, waving a sword above his head. And he does this very well, being like a hovering ghost even in a lonely forest wherein the crickets refuse to sound and the elk herds graze with great caution, one unfortunate member of which would be suddenly struck by an arrow out of nowhere and felled cleanly. This reflects his skill in the field of hunting and archery. Having managed to loot bodkin arrows, he should have no trouble immobilizing the foe.
In melee, he can give a good account of himself, though one should not expect him to last long, for his only experience is dealing with angry boars, belligerent drunks, and starving bandits. Though by no means a professional, his life of labor makes his attacks quite powerful.
Age: Twenty-four years old.
Race: Human, specifically of the East, from the Crimson Wind Clan.
Gender: Female.
Height and Weight: 5'5'', 113 lbs.
Eye color: Grey.
Defining Markings: A tattoo of the Great Vermillion Owl, the symbol of the Crimson Wind Clan, is located on her lower back.
Personality: Solana is a complex being, like many other conscious creatures across Arcazia. While she can be seen as one of the braver souls in the world she still seeks companionship requiring interaction with others and prefers doing things with a group seeking safety in numbers. Something of a daredevil, Solana was always one to search out the next adventure in her life attempting to experience all she could before her end because death never came up as something she even considered, as if she was either going to do something or die trying which is a mentality that often got her in many dangerous situations. With her new lifestyle of an adventurer she is still getting used to the many predicaments it can get you in and while her combat prowess is something she can boast she is still an amateur adventurer and Ana has a lot of learning to do about the world around her and how to survive in it before she can be considered anyone special.
Fears: Insects, Poison, Marriage, Serpents, Dark Magic.
Likes: Traveling, Exotic species, Food, Fighting, Thrill seeking.
History: Solana Veatal was born on a very small unnamed island inhabited by the remnants of her long forgotten clan located north of the Twilight Isles where she migrated to in her youth. Ana's clan had struggled for generations on their grief stricken island before her father, the last clan leader, decided they needed to find a new home. When her clan entered regular society they were forced to work as mercenaries for local lords to feed themselves. Her clan was one of many that was used in the local skirmishes between lords, which quickly dwindled their numbers by effectively killing off the male population. The remaining population consisted of young females, most of whom were taken wives and shameful widows who were viewed as degenerates of society. Ana however chose to take a much different route in life, one not typical to any of her clan members.
Being the only child of a clan leader young Solana was rigorously trained by her father in their clan's unique combat styles. Being able to pick them up naturally, she excelled in combat and often gained much praise from her father. However it was taboo for girls in her clan to learn how to fight and as such she was never allowed to display her natural ability. This was until recently when Solana decided to travel the world and left the Twilight Isles seeking adventure and a way to restore her clan.
Inventory:
- Dark Grey hooded cloak.
- Smoke bombs.
- Bandages.
- Canteen.
- Bedroll.
- Blade Blackener.
- Hand Mirror.
- Climbers Kit. (Boot spike attachments, 30 foot of rope with a hook attached.)
- Smoke bombs.
- Bandages.
- Canteen.
- Bedroll.
- Blade Blackener.
- Hand Mirror.
- Climbers Kit. (Boot spike attachments, 30 foot of rope with a hook attached.)
Weapons:
- 'Black' a Katana attached on the hip with a black wrap around the hilt which from it hangs a small silver lion.
- 'Red' a curved hunting knife hidden within her boot, with a small ode to the sun imprinted on it's steel.
- 'Grey' simple straight sword with an extended hilt allowing it to be held by two hands strapped to the back.
- Throwing knives in a satchel on the thigh.
- 'Red' a curved hunting knife hidden within her boot, with a small ode to the sun imprinted on it's steel.
- 'Grey' simple straight sword with an extended hilt allowing it to be held by two hands strapped to the back.
- Throwing knives in a satchel on the thigh.
Purse: Sixty copper pieces and two ruby fragments from her homeland.
Armor: On her less dominant right arm Ana wears a full metal sleeve consisting of various pieces that completely encase her fingertips to shoulder and even extending up to her neck. Aside from this her main form of armor appears to be a heavy white leather tunic with steel scales woven into the fabric, protecting her torso. Ana also wears a pair of heavy black leather boots, matching leather gloves and a pair of steel thigh guards hanging from her hips.
Fighting style: Ana was trained in Iaijutsu, which is a specialized dueling style used solely in her homeland. Her clan's specific style is known as the 'Scarlet Gale' which focuses on a combination of consecutive cuts or parries to disable an opponent, members of her clan are renowned for their high caliber of agility, endurance and precision with a blade while maintaining a level of power many struggle against.
Age: 26
Race: Human
Gender: Male
Height and Weight: 5'8" and 168 lbs
Eye color: They are red.
Scars: He has scars covering his back from what appear to be whippings and scars on his arms from previous Torturer's blades.
Personality: Vidic is the quiet type of person who would prefer not to stand out in a crowd and just be the person who sits in the back of a room. He never likes to show his true abilities unless he is absolutely forced to use them and normally uses just one or two weakened spells without revealing his tattoos. People would probably describe him as the mysterious type of person with the shady past but that is only half true since he does have a shady past but since he was young he really only had contact with his handlers and this left him in a bad place as he is shy and doesn't know how to act around other people.
Fears:
-Death
-The Arcazia Empire
-The feeling of Pain
Likes:
-Enjoys a decent meal
-Enjoys sunlight and being outside
-Pretty women
History: Vidic was born into a poor family on the outskirts of the Gilded City but he grew up never knowing his parents because at a young age after he showed that he had the ability to produce magic he was taken in by the Arcazia Empire and trained to being a mage assassin. The only life he had known from the age of five was that of drilling into him every skill needed to survive while out of a mission and how to utilize his magic to the fullest. At the age of eleven he received the runic tattoos onto his body which were frowned on in normal magic circles but were ideal for his line of work since he didn't have long times for rune magic incantations during a mission. Over the next thirteen years he lived the life of an assassin and killed countless people of all races in the name of the Arcazia Empire for the "greater good" as he didn't know better.
Two years ago as Vidic watched the Arcazia Empire fall into a depression and he was sent out on more missions to try and quell small uprisings as people got more and more upset with the government. He started to question why he was killing all of these people but of course he kept these thoughts to himself as he knew what would happen if he started to voice these concerns out loud. Then that fateful day came when his handlers were given the order to dispose of him and that was when he was left for dead on the outskirts of the Gilded city bleeding from multiple stab wounds. The only reason he survived the wounds was because a farmer traveling along the roads saw him laying in the dirt and took him to his farm to nurse him back to health. After six months of living at the farm, he came back one day from the market to see that the whole place had been set on fire and every had been killed by Empire soldiers who had been looking for him and that was when he knew that he wasn't safe in any one spot as his old organization had found out that he was still alive and were now actively hunting him. He vowed to get revenge on the Empire that had discarded him and the few people that had showed any kindness to him as he now on the run from the very same people that used to order him to kill.
Inventory:
-Chalk to create runes
-Ink and needle to fix the tattoos if they start to fade and wear
-canteen
-long black fur lined jacket with hood.
Purse: He only has six copper to his name.
Weapons: He carries a small hunting knife on his person and that is the only weapon that he carries on him since he has magic runes tattooed onto his body.
Armor: He does not wear any armor and only wears his ordinary clothes.
Fighting style: His fighting style consists of several different elemental runes tattooed onto his body and also uses abjuration runes for protection. Vidic has both of his palms tattooed with one being a fire rune and the other being an air rune which both have precise rune marking mixed into the tattoo and when he mixes the elemental energy from both palms he is able to off lightning bolts from his hands and can also bring his palms together to build up enough elemental energy to launch a ball of lightning at a group of enemies. He also has two tattoos on the back of his calves which display the elemental runes of air which allow him to enhance his own movements and makes him as light as the air for increased running. For his defense he had a Abjuration shield rune tattooed to his chest which allows him to create a barrier for a short time to defend against physical attacks.
Spells:
-Fire Palm
-Lightning Bolt
-Lightning Cannon
-Fleet Feet
-Protection
Age:24
Race:Human
Gender: Female
Height and Weight: 5'8" at 136
Scars: On the right side of her face, Ehluria hides a scar that begins at the ear and ends hideously at her chin. Her skin was infected and with little attention, it became incurable. She is self conscious of it and quickly changes the subject when asked why she never removes her mask. This scar shows in every shape she changes into.
Personality: Ehluria is an energetic woman with a knack for getting things done. She's hardworking and believes in a go go go mentality. She often surprises others with her actions and feats, most thinking her a delicate girl. While she is cautious of most everyone, Ehluria has also learned to care for and accept the help of others in a temporary manner, as she knows they will only be in her life for a short while. After leaving home, She tends to not allow herself to be tied down in any one place.
Fears:
-Being a failure (deepest fear)
-Monotony
-Unnatural flying
Likes:
-Jerky
-Being in forests
-Small animals
History: Ehluria was born and raised on a small island off the edge of Arcazia. It was peaceful living for most of her life, tending numerous chores around her parents cottage and playing with the only other two kids in the village. The older Ehluria became, the closer she got with her two friends, Gackyl and Verhni. Each of them was special, as were the rest of the village people. The adults talked quietly among themselves, letting the three kids do as they may. They often roamed the forest, shifting into their favorite animals, Ehluria's being the fox. This was her years of adolescence, until the day Gackyl disappeared. Ehluria and Verhni became closer after their only male friend had gone. They did everything together, a lot of their time spent in the forest talking about the memories of Gackyl and how against the villages rules he was. They always thought the elders had exiled him, tired of his rebellious antics. Chores became tedious after a few more years, life becoming repetitive and the people of the village boring and wasteful. When she was Twenty, the village gathered in a silent dinner. It had been decided that Ehluria and Verhni would be sent to a school in the nearest city. The two girls would spend their time together for the next four years, enduring the harsh lessons. Ehluria had become sick of this life, confined within the small walls of her academy. She and Verhni joked about leaving and going back home. Not long after hearing about tales of an ancient city, Ehluria had made that decision, but when she asked Verhni to go with her, she was met with fear. Ehluria was alone, one friend leaving, and another telling her to go. She left that city, using her shapeshifting abilities to aid her in odd jobs and whatever adventure she could find. She caught wind of an epic tale of an ancient city. This particular journey is the reason she has traveled to the town of Toruka.
Inventory: Ehluria packs lightly, to avoid sacrificing her Mobility. She sports to daggers with intricate symbols etched into the smooth, full-tang blades. Under her sash, Ehluria carries a small pouch full of jerky, and a thin flask filled with water. She replenishes when ever the opportunity arises. Tucked into the leather armor around her left leg, Ehluria carries small blades. Metal bracelets wrapped in leather coil around her wrists for a little protection. She also has a few more tiny blades tightly strapped to her dagger sheaths strapped to her lower back. If a job calls for it, Ehluria will bring along a bag to stuff odd job necessities. She borrows these bags without permission.
Purse: 8 silver 17 copper
Weapons: (Put in with inventory)
Armor: (Put in with inventory)
Fighting style: Ehluria uses a kind of evasive melee attack system. She always moving, watching her opponents movements. She aims to cripple, knowing that her physical strength can not be depended on. She has become familiar with her Fox and Mouse, being able to transform within a small moment and in quick bursts. She knows other forms, but the energy they currently require of her takes a big a toll.
Spells:
-Fox (Most familiar)
-Mouse
-Bear
-Owl
- Four-Winged Flying Fish
Age: She is 115 in Human years. 19 is Elvin years.
Gender: Female
Race: Elf
Height and Weight: 5'4" (64in.) / 90lbs (40.8kg)
Eye color: In case it is not clear from the image, her eyes are blue.
Scars: None
Personality: Elora prides herself on her mind. She takes every chance she gets to learn, even if that means observing others in brief conversation. She is constantly curious and is always up for a challenge. This leads her to have a high amount of confidence. She's rational and once she reaches a sound conclusion, she strongly believes she is correct and she is not easily persuaded to change her mind. Because of this, she is honest and direct. Elora can stand on her own, or be the leader in a situation. This can lead to conflict with other natural leaders, if she disagrees with them. To her, the idea must make sense, or it's wrong. She applies this idea to herself, believing that she must always be calm and rational upon any situation. Unfortunately, Elora can come off as very arrogant and judgmental. She sees emotional people as weak, at would take a long time to persuade her otherwise. Romance is a strange concept to her, but she is also open-minded. If it makes sense, and is rational, then it must be true.
Fears: Ice, Lightening, Large Carnivores, Dying Alone, Being Ignored, Being Wrong, The Dark
Likes: Being Right, Fire, Most Animals (except mentioned above), Writing, Heights, Competition
History: *The ages mentioned are all in Human Years* || Elora was born in Sal'Sumarathar, an Elvish city that was once a part of the Honey Water Empire. She lived a lovely childhood, learning about the ways of the world through stories and life lessons. Unfortunately, at the young age of 47, her mother received a terrible omen of fire and destruction and immediately, the Nei family fled Sal'Sumarathar and the Honey Water Empire to travel across the sea to Arcazia. Once they landed at the Arcazia docks, the horrific news of the Empire's demise reached their ears. Volcanoes were the supposed culprits and there were no survivors.
Despite the devastation, the Nei family made their home on the outskirts of Arcazia's main city. Her father, Virion, specialized in fertility and medicinal herbs and his shop was rarely without a customer. When Elora was 100, her parents were expecting another child. On the eve of her 101st birthday, her mother gave birth to a boy they named Kellam. Even with an extra mouth to feed, the Nei family thrived until the depression struck Arcazia. Soon the shop was empty and Virion was forced to close its doors. It was heartbreaking for the family, but even more so for the rest of the town. Within a year of the depression, terror struck the family as thieves broke into their home under the shelter of night. Desperate for money, the theives raided their home and murdered Virion and Tsarra. Elora and Kellam only survived by hiding within the home's walls.
By the time Elora was 111, she was living on her own and raising a 10 year old brother. They had been living on the streets for 4 years until Elora heard about the promise of gold and riches. A promise that was too sweet to ignore. Leaving Kellam in the local orphanage, Elora swore that she would return and the wealth of the Nei family would be restored.
Inventory: Two canteens, Tinder Box, Two shirts, Two Pants, One Poncho, One Robe, One golden locket with her parent's picture, Cloth bracelet that Kellam crafted for her when he was five.
Purse: 6 Coppers
Weapons: Two daggers, Large stick
Armor: Chainmail that is much too big for her small frame
Fighting style: She prefers to stand back and let others fight. When push comes to shove, she can be quite frantic, but she does not have any style other than to stay alive.
Spells: Water Seer and Liquid Communication
Race: Goblin
Age: 24
Gender: Male
Height and Weight: 3'11" / 278lbs
Eye color: Black
Scars: Plenty. Many on his arms and torso. Most are from the blades or claws of his enemies. But a few on his back are clearly the mark of public lashings. And a series of spiral and circular scars running from his chest down to his knees are tribal scars from his rite of passage into adulthood.
Personality: Ekindu is often as quick with a line as he is with a blade. That is, if he is given the chance to be. There's still a lot of lingering racism against goblins from the ancient times when elves and the other fair skinned races thought that they were crude monsters. Ekindu has faced his share of discrimination and it's left it's mark upon his personality. He can often be very slow to trust, and he certainly won't stand to see others of a greener complexion being treated unfairly.
Issues aside, Ekindu is a rather macho fellow who can drink, fight, boast, and armwrestle with the surliest of dwarves. Equal parts city boy and lover of nature combine in his manner and style. He hunts his own food whenever he has the time to and enjoys being self sufficient despite often being employed in urban scenarios as a mercenary. However, he ultimately desires to maintain a balance between civilization and nature.
He is very religious. Superstitious, some might say. Especially those not familiar with traditional goblin tribal culture. But there is some truth to the accusation. The wise woman of his tribe once told him that the spirits of the storm are his totem guides and to this day he will not stay inside if it rains even a little bit.
Fears:
-Death
-Torture
-Complex social interactions
-Lakes, oceans and seamonsters
-Commitment
-Betrayal
-City guards, Nobility, Royalty and similar authority figures of "normal" society.
Likes:
-Nature
-Storms
-Tradition
-The company of attractive ladies
-Wines and spirits
-Elven art and poetry
History: Born and raised in The Gilded City for the first half of his life, he grew up around the poor and the hopeless in the city's eastern slums. His father worked under an Orcish master blacksmith in the east marketplace. His mother assisted at an alchemist's laboratory in the western districts. They moved to The Gilded City chasing dreams of an easier life. That never truly worked out as well as they'd imagined, but they were able to carve out a happy enough life. And with Ekindu's birth, they had a family in the nation's capital. It truly wasn't a bad existence.
Ekindu, however, began to fall in with the wrong crowds at a young age. The local criminal element recruited youths from the slums. His parents knew better than to get mixed up in that when they'd arrived. The leadership of those criminal groups used the poor as expendable henchmen and dungeon fodder. They did their best to make Ekindu see that he was walking into a trap if he kept on that path. It didn't matter, though. The gang recruiters had long worked out a system for seducing underprivileged kids, and no amount of punishment or logic could stand up to the promises and temptations of that dark life.
When he was just seven years old, he started going on "errands" for them. Stealing, destruction, setting fires, beating up younger children. Over time these tasks and the mindset he took on did help to increase his physical strength and mental quickness. That only increased the mistaken impression he had that his streetwise benefactors really did care about him. Which, in turn, made him even more resistant to the efforts of his parents to set him on the right track.
His wild youth culminated in an eye-opening event. At fourteen, while lingering in a marketplace with a few other young blackguards in training, he took offense at the glares of a human boy. He went over to the lad and asked what the problem was. The frail looking human told Ekindu that the girl he had been eyeing earlier was his sister, and threatened that if he looked at her again he'd be sorry. The young goblin wasn't about to be talked to like that by a weakling. He assaulted the boy, and his friends were about to join in. But the guards rushed over and the others fled. Apparently, the human and his sister were the children of a noble.
He received a public lashing in the market square that evening. Afterwards, his parents were able to convince him to stay with "Aunt Nenia", the wise woman of the tribe that they'd left so long ago. At first he was uncertain of the situation. But life among the Zebul tribe was to become a healing experience for him. Nenia taught him of the spirits and totems, dreams and omens of his people. And learning these things fascinated him.
By the time he was nineteen, he'd gone from being a hopeless rogue into being a proud warrior and hunter. Learning they skills of his ancestors, and knowing that they still walked with him as spirits, gave him a strength that his old honorless lifestyle never could.
It was around this time that Nenia told him he was ready. If he so wished, he would undergo his Rite of Honor and receive his markings as an adult of the Zebul Goblin Tribe. He immediately accepted. During the visionary trance involved, he found that it was his place to walk between the old and new ways. It was therefore agreed that he should leave and seek out this destiny.
With the skills he had acquired, he easily found work as a mercenary. He went back to his parents and made peace with them. He also met his younger sister. For the past few years he's been working hard, doing honorable jobs and hoping to save enough money to get his family out of the slums. It's with this goal in mind that he decided to seek out the lost dwarven riches of The Spine.
Inventory:
-Water skin
-Lock picks
-Tinderbox
-Rope
-Skinning knife
-Horse hide
Purse: 3 silver, 2 copper
Weapons: A fine two-handed broadsword forged of orcish steel.
Armor: Composite personal armor bearing traditional Arcazian markings on both the plates and the leather.
Fighting style: The best defense is a good offense. The best offense is the most lethal. Focusing on heavy, two-handed weapons, Ekindu augments the basic barbarian style with the guile and finesse common to rogues. He uses brutal, strength based offensive tactics while employing dirty tactics to taunt, blind, paralyze, distract and confuse opponents.
Age: 138 in human, or 23 in elf
Race: Elf
Gender: Male
Height and Weight: 6'3" and 132.3 lbs
Eye color: Hazel
Scars: Numerous scars from sword fights are slashed across his back and front, and three prominent bullet sized scars sit on his chest.
Personality: Talkative and outgoing, Jespir's energetic spirit has earned him many allies in his travels. Unfortunately, his arrogant nature and sharp tongue have earned him just as many enemies. Jespir is as stubborn as a rock, and will do anything to get what he wants. He will keep on fighting for what he believes in, even if said belief is questionable. His sense of humor is that of a pirate's: offensive, dirty, and full of crude language. No surprise considering that he technically is a pirate. To Jespir, there's only one way to settle an argument: fight. Even better if it's to the death. He's protective of close friends, though he's too prideful to really say so.
Fears:
- Drowning
- Spiders
-Getting caught
Likes:
- Airships
- Fighting
- Cooking
History:Jespir was born in a large city far west of Toruka. He is the result of an affair between a high ranking official's wife and a passing traveler; the harsh treatment received by his family is a constant reminder of that. His half-siblings mocked him endlessly, and his "father" beat him on sight. Even his mother neglected his existence.
Even through the constant abuse, he had one sanctuary of peace: the Airship Tower.
In the center of the city was a high tower, large enough for multiple airships to load and unload cargo and crew. Jespir would watch in fascination as the magically powered ships came to rest, and listen aptly to the tales and ramblings of sky sailing crewmen. The tower had become almost like a second home to him, and he knew every inch of the place.
After his eighteenth birthday, Jespir made up his mind and snuck onto the largest airship he saw. The ship departed with him on board, and no one was the wiser. It was only during the third day of the journey when disaster struck.
During the night, the airship was invaded by a crew of pirates. It was an absolute massacre. Before anyone could be roused from their beds, they were killed. Only Jespir lived. He didn't remain hidden for long, though.
Rooted out just before the pirates left, the first mate was just about to blow the elf's brains out with a bullet before the captain intervened. Seeing Jespir as more of an asset than problem, he was taken in as a reluctant cabin boy.
The first few days of Jespir's new life were rocky. Jeers and insults were thrown at him, but like the abuse in his former home, he tried to shrug it off. As time passed, the insults became more lighthearted than anything and he actually made some good friends with the crew. He was even promoted to chef after the former one was killed in a small scuffle.
When Jespir was nineteen, rumors of the captain's corruption surfaced. There were whisperings onboard the ship about the captain taking more than two thirds of the loot acquired. The rumor was made even worse due to most of the crew coming from poor backgrounds, and the captain was said to use the money for his own personal mansion.
Mutiny was inevitable.
Jespir was reluctant to join. After all, this was the man who kept him from being killed. But one look at the captain's disregard of his men was enough to join the mutineers.
After months of planning, the plan to overthrow the captain was set into motion. Though the group of mutineers were small, their planned seemed foolproof. They snuck into the captain's quarters at night...
...and were met by him, his loyal followers, and a lot of guns.
With mutineers to loyal followers numbering one to four, the betrayal ended with a slaughter. The bodies of mutineers were taken off the airship and thrown into a forest before the ship fled. Miraculously, Jespir survived with three bullets to the chest.
A man from a small town right by the forest spotted the mass of corpses. If it wasn't for Jespir's pained moans, the man would have left him there without even knowing. The man carried Jespir to his home and cared for him until the elf healed. His recovery was a painful process, and he barely survived. Once he was able to wall, though, he was quick to leave.
Hijacking a small, decrepit airship along the way, Jespir journeys around continuing to live a life of pirating--solo, this time. His love for adventure and a growing desire for treasure when the depression hit was the fuel for his travelings. He wants to find the greatest treasure in the world, and he'll do anything for it.
Inventory: 1 flask containing water; 1 flask containing alcohol; small roll of bandages; a deck of playing cards and dice; a journal; two rolls of bread
Purse: 1 silver and 30 copper
Weapons:
- A large cutlass
- A crossbow
- A dagger
Armor: Apart from light shoulder plates and a chain mail shirt beneath his normal clothing, he wears very little armor.
Fighting style: Jespir favors using melee weapons, preferably his cutlass, rather than range, though he will resort to using his crossbow if necessary. Stealth and strategy is not his forte, as he prefers charging head on into battle without a real plan. More offensive than defensive, Jespir is known for attacking with rapid succession. This can make him vulnerable from sneak attacks. There's no such thing as a fair fight to Jespir--if he sees an advantage, he'll take the opportunity and abuse it.
[center]Apperance:
[/centerAge: 400 in Human Years/40 in Kunite Years
Race: Kunite
Gender: Male
Height and Weight: 5’8”/170LBS.
Eye color:Gold Color.
Personality: MarcoPolo is like any young Kunite; he is a fun seeker, and he likes to go on adventures. He may act young, but MarcoPolo is one of the sneakiest, quickest, loyalist creature in Arcazia. When MarcoPolo is either excited or has a secret his tail twitches with excitement. MarcoPolo is a happy person, he loves to make people laugh, and he loves to have a good time. When MarcoPolo is around everyone is sure to have a good time, or get in a lot of trouble.
Fears:
-Evil Creatures
-Being in a Fight and Not Winning
-Losing His Friends
-Being Alone
-People Treating Him Like a Kid
-Being Made Fun Of
Likes:
-Being In Nature
-Having Fun
-Making People Laugh
-Adventuring
-Making New Friends
-Learning New Things
-Defeating All His Foes
-Exercising His Tail in Fighting Practice
History: MarcoPolo was born into the most important and feared clan of Kunites, the Kunite Elites. His father Juan Flores was the descendants of the first family of Kunite Elites. They are like royalty, since they are the only Kunites that can transform into one of the 5 Gods the Kunites worship. Kunites do not have one specific place of origin, they move around a lot. Usually they like to stay on the outskirts of Arcazia; being close enough to get supplies if they need it, but far enough to have their own rules and lives. His parents have a lot of money since some Kunites Elites can turn into Mother Wolf the goddess of wealth and health, the Kunites do a lot of herbal remedies on other creatures and heal them; for a large fee of course. His parents receive 30% of all the profits the Kunites make from different businesses they have. Kunites are known to have their paws in all different organizations, they are like the Animal Mafia, except they don’t wack someone for not giving them what they want; they just stop doing business with that said person or people. Kunites are very mysterious, meaning they only do business with people they trust. If you want to do business with the big wolves (Kunite Elites), you would have to start from bottom working with the Kunite Ravens the laborers of the Kunite clans. It takes years to get Kunite’s trust, and it takes seconds to lose that trust.
When MarcoPolo found out that people were going on adventures to find the lost city, he was down for it. Sure MarcoPolo didn’t need the money, but he loves to go on adventures so it was a no brainer for him. His parents and the other Kunite Adults didn’t think it was ok for him to go, but they knew that he would still sneak off. If MarcoPolo didn’t get what he wanted, he just made it difficult for him not to get it. His parents made him promise to stay safe, they also told him to follow whatever signs the Gods give him. They also told him to never ever show someone your true potential, until you can truly trust them. Other than that MarcoPolo is ready for anything, he can’t wait to meet new people, do new things, and even get into some trouble.
Inventory:
-Water Bottle (With a filter just in case.)
-Winter Coat (If it gets to cold.)
-12oz case of Medical cream (For minor cuts and burns, reduces risk of infection.)
-3 empty jars (Just in case MarcoPolo finds something he wants to collect.)
-His favorite book “The Wolf That Saved The Day” (He reads it every night before he goes to bed, no matter where he is; it’s kind of like a good luck charm for him.)
-Reinforced rain boots (Got to be prepared for anything, even a flood.)
Purse:10 Gold (His parents were kind of rich, if he wanted more he could’ve asked, but he wants to do this on his own.)
Weapons:Daggers
MarcoPolo’s trusty dual daggers Speed & Shadow. His father gave him those on his 10th birthday (100th in human years.) They connect together to be concealed inside of MarcoPolo’s back pocket. He simply has to pull them apart and voila! Your about to be decapitated. Other than that, since he does practice a lot in hand-to-hand combat his fist would be considered a weapon also. He calls them Thunder & Lighting, cheesy but that’s what he calls them.
Armor: MarcoPolo wears light armor under his everyday clothes. They are flexible enough for him to move around quickly, and they give some protection when he is in a fight or is being attacked.
Fighting style: MarcoPolo fighting style is to get in and get out, clean and simple. MarcoPolo would be called a mix of M.A. and an Assassin, seeing that he only likes to use daggers or his fists to fight against his opponents. To MarcoPolo those are the only weapons quick enough to keep up with his speed, he likes to hit quick and fast. Most people would call MarcoPolo the Prince of Shadows seeing that in a fight you barely see him coming, it’s like he appeared out of thin air or something.
