[CHAR] Under the Red Sun

[Maxx]

Accepted Character Sheets

All accepted sheets go in here.

DISCLAIMER

This section is for ACCEPTED SHEETS ONLY. Do not post here under the premise that you will be accepted immediately, because you won't. Run your sheet by me first, and we'll work out any issues that may exist within it. Disregarding this rule will get you prohibited from participating in the game and boinked by a Jabberwock.

So instead of having one post per-character like usual, in this rp we will instead post one post and then edit each sheet into it. All sheets must be flanked by hiders.

[Maxx]

<Temporarily moved here by Mahz>

[SepticGentleman]

Darsi Ruuk

Name: Darsi Ruuk Age: 21 Gender: Male Species: Dorak Kingdom of Origin: Dorakis Physical Appearance: Darsi stands at six feet, two inches, just like his brother. His scales and underbelly are both of a brown ochre hue, also just like his brother. His three-fingered hands and three-toed feet have had their digging claws shaved down for ease of movement, again, just like his brother. That, however, is where the similarities end. Darsi has allowed his leathery dreadlocks to grow out, reaching down to his back in length. He’s also got a few much smaller ones adorning his chin. His scales are in a generally better condition than his Dosi’s, being that he has never roughed it out in the wilderness of Dorakis like he has. He has a bit of gunk encrusted in his eyes and nostrils, which always shows up again a few days later after he’s breathed in some more incenses. He’s definitely not as fit as his brother, having a bit of a beer gut, but nothing too plump. Attire: Darsi wears a light brown fabric vest that leaves his torso exposed, and a pair of trousers made of a similar, alebit darker fabric, held up with an improperly fastened leather belt. All of these items are not in their prime conditions, but they aren’t coming undone at the seams, so that’s good enough for him. He doesn’t possess any footwear, just like Dosi. Unlike Dosi, however, he has quite a few pieces of jewelry on at all times – bands, rings, necklaces, all the sort. Personality: Of the Ruuk brothers, Darsi exemplifies the more carefree, curious, and experimenting nature of the Dorak. He’s always one to try new things, and he most often enjoys them greatly. He possesses a distinct admiration for the cultural activities and traditions of other races, most often the ones that involve celebration and/or some kind of substance intake. Never one to turn down and opportunity to meet new folks and have a good time with them, often insisting they try his concoctions for the sake of fun. Hobbies/interests: Darsi enjoys collecting insectoids, plant life, and other materials wherever he and Dosi travel, in order to discover their effects as ingredients in his experiments. He’s also been practicing with a pair of drums made from a foreign leather, discovering new rhythms every now and again. Skills: Darsi is a brewer, an herbalist, a bomb maker, and a musician (somewhat). He loves nothing more than to bring a sense of joy and cheer to those around him, be that in the form of offering them his concocted beverages, herbal incenses, a song or two, and even a hand in battle. Darsi takes great pride in compiling list upon list of recipes for new drinks, drugs and bombs, often including foreign materials in his latest experiments, as well as trying new rhythms with his drums to soothe and mystify both friends and passersby alike. He’s adept at examining materials and discerning what they are comprised of and what effect they might have if eaten raw or mixed with something else, a skill on par with most alchemists (though he couldn’t tell you anything about a magic-infused material). Backstory: Darsi and Dosi Ruuk were both born twenty-one years ago to the lead family of the Ruuk Patriarchy. Before them came an eldest brother and an older sister, and afterwards came two more sisters, and finally, one last younger brother. Thus, it was a sizeable family, as was common with the Dorak. From the moment the two were born less than a minute apart (the family forgot who came first), they were nigh inseparable. Always playing together, always doing chores in tandem, everything. The only hint of a division came between their interests. Dosi grew up admiring the stories his father Damatas told of hunts and excursions and taming monstrous creatures all across the vastness of Dorakis, always aiming to follow in a similar line of service to the Patriarchy. Darsi, on the other hand, was much more enamored by the cultural liveliness of his people, aspiring to become a brewer and herbalist like his mother Carmessi. During the boys’ early years, they each took up their desired fields of skillsets from one of their parents, Dosi training daily with his father, and Darsi with his mother. Time went on, and the two quickly displayed their talents for their respective works. Fast forward some years. By the time the twins were in their teens, their parents had begun slowing down their training them and focusing more on the Patriarchy, which they were disheartened by. The Ruuk Patriarchy had been dwindling in numbers and resources at that point in time, and needed to focus on stockpiling resources. Darsi had learned how to brew quite a few drinks and incenses, and even helped domesticate a newly hatched Gimian Skora – a twin-tailed scorpion - for the Patriarchy to use as a service creature, which Dosi had helped his older brother and father to recover from a nest. They named her Karkada, after not much thought. While the twins understood their parents’ relocation of attention, they still wanted to perfect their skills. Thus, they asked to spend some time with their aunt Goka, who lived topside as an Omnik (a Dorak who has chosen not to serve a Patriarchy) atop a Varaka Bertis, along with many other experienced masters of Dorak traditions and practices. While it took some convincing and pleading, and a promise to visit every once in a while, the twins eventually got their wish. They next morning they bid the Patriarchy and Karkada farewell, and met with their aunt a short walk away. The next seven years in the twins’ lives were spent riding atop a Varaka Bertis, living with Goka. She was firm friends with some very stories individuals – hunters, brewers, crafters, herbalists, bomb makers, so on and so forth. She’d gotten them to agree to train the boys to the best of their abilities. Some were happy to pass on their knowledge and techniques, while others were a little lazy about the whole ordeal. Whatever the case, Darsi and Dosi both began training under masters that same day. Darsi took up a job as a brewer’s assistant, serving the lively community atop the Varaka Bertis with new recipes for drinks and dishes he learned, all the while practicing his other skills when he was free. Dosi joined up with a hunting group who tracked down and cleared out troublesome nests and hives, and brought back the spoils for their fellow Dorak to enjoy, learning as well to craft his own material goods like weapons and armor. The twins worked well together – Dosi went out to kill insects and gather plants and brought them back to Darsi, who used most of the resources to make food, drinks and incenses, and the unusable materials he gave back to his brother to craft into goods. The two were quickly becoming masters themselves, impressive for two Dorak at such a young age. They visited their Patriarchy frequently, bringing with them plentiful resources to help them in their trying times, for which they were grateful. But there was always an underlying sense of wanderlust between the two that made them want to see what lied beyond Dorakis. They talked and dreamed of it, but that’s all they ever did. Talk and dream. Beyond their wondering, they continued with their work. It was a productive life that the twins cherished. The good times, however, eventually came to an end. A tragedy fell upon the Ruuk Patriarchy one night when Damatas and Maliko were leading a burrowing expansion to make for more storage room. They unknowingly burrowed right into a dormant nest of Araki Dimos – Devil Spiders. The group was unprepared to face the creatures, and thus, lost several members. Among the victims, to the horror and sadness of Damatas and the rest of the Patriarchy, was Maliko, who was slated to inherit the role of Patriarch upon the former’s passing. The day after this event, Damatas sent for Darsi and Dosi to return home immediately, and of course, they did. After a brief period of mourning, Damatas explained to the twins that, with Maliko gone, one of them had to take his place as heir to the Patriarchy. And they had to decide who. The issue was, however, that neither of them wished to take over upon their father’s passing, whenever that may be. They’d grown far too accustomed to their lives topside, and had even been considering assuming Omnik status. As expected, their father was both disheartened and angered by this, reminding them that their youngest brother Koba was far too young to assume the role himself. Everything got more and more heated from that point onward. The argument eventually ended on a poor note, and Damatas resigned for the night, postponing the issue. The twins stuck around in their old den and talked the whole situation over. And after quite some thought, they decided on a course of action. The next morning, the twins were gone. They’d left a note explaining how neither of them wanted to be forced into the role of Patriarch, and how that they had officially declared themselves Omnik. They went further than that, however. After leaving with Karkada in tow – now fully grown and fitted with a small hut on her shell – they returned to Goka and explained the problem to her. She told them that Damatas would most likely have the Patriarchy come and drag them back home. Thus, she presented them with a solution – leave Dorakis. Travel around Tithe for a bit. Think things over, come back when Damatas had mellowed some. Goka said if he came around, she’d do her best to keep him from finding out where they’d gone. She herself had traveled the land some in her youth, and it was an experience she couldn’t recommend on any higher degree. In the end, the twins agreed to follow up on her suggestion with a bit of an added goal. They suddenly aspired to become merchants. Make a bit of a living outside instead of just sightseeing. They took all of their belongings and resources, stocked them up atop Karkada, hugged Goka goodbye, and set out for the borders of Dorakis. Family:

• Carmessi Ruuk, 43 (mother)
• Damatas Ruuk, 46 (father)
• Dosi Ruuk, 21 (twin brother)
• Goka, 45 (aunt)
• Koba Ruuk, 14 (youngest brother)
• Lakshmi Ruuk, 25 (older sister)
• Maliko Ruuk, 26 (eldest brother, deceased)
• Sangessa Ruuk, 17 (younger sister)
• Tava Ruuk, 15 (youngest sister)

Relationships: | Dosi Ruuk | Great | Twin Brother | “Me blood, man. Me blood. Dosi an’ I be bonded since births. Maybe we ain’t got the same likings and doings, but together? We’s everything we need to be. Wouldn’t change that evah.” Weaponry: Darsi keeps a stockpile of homebrewed explosives aboard Karkada. Molotov cocktails, smoke grenades, caltrops, gases, all the sort and beyond, all kinds of volatile concoctions and deterrents, all labeled and expertly crafted. Abilities: As far as physical, combat-employable abilities go, Darsi is experienced in only one regard – throwing stuff. Beyond that, he can’t do much else for you but get your mind clear and your stomach full with a meal and a smoke before battle. Weaknesses: Like all Dorak, Darsi’s four eyes are completely useless in dark or unlit areas, and even out in the daylight, his vision is at most times unreliable, meaning he has to rely on his senses. Therein lies the issue with his constant drink and herbal intake – his senses are usually clogged by gunk and fluid, encrusted in his nostrils and eye sockets, which he has to clean regularly. Darsi is in no way experienced with live combat and is thus rubbish in a fight without his stockpile of bombs, and Dosi and Karkada by his side. Companion: Darsi and Dosi both ride atop a Gimian Skora – a gigantic, female, twin-tailed scorpion – named Karkada. Armored in a sturdy black shell with white fur packed between the crevices, Karkada is an imposing creature to behold. The twins raised her since she was a hatchling and, with the use of expertly crafted pacifying incenses, managed to tame her and turn her into a loyal companion. Thanks to Karkada’s sheer size and strength, she can carry the weight equivalent of a small, one-room hut atop her shell – which, incidentally, she does. Darsi and Dosi use her as a pack mule, a mobile home, and bodyguard when they are traveling through dangerous areas. Karkada, unfortunately, had her stingers removed when she was young, a precaution taken in case she ever attacked the family. Her venom glands still remain however, which Darsi uses in some of his concoctions, and Dosi coats his spears with the lethal substance. Other: Darsi’s inventory stock includes custom-brewed drinks, on-the-spot food dishes, incenses that provide varying beneficial (and sometimes negative) effects, the ingredients to craft either (which may entice some alchemists), homemade throwing bombs, and maybe even songs if he’s feeling up to it. Also he has no idea who the hell Polaris is. Or any of the Red Legion, for that matter.

Dosi Ruuk

Name: Dosi Ruuk Age: 21 Gender: Male Species: Dorak Kingdom of Origin: Dorakis Physical Appearance: Dosi stands at six feet, two inches, just like his brother. His scales and underbelly are both of a brown ochre hue, also just like his brother. His three-fingered hands and three-toed feet have had their digging claws clipped for ease of movement, again, just like his brother. And that’s where the similarities end between the two. Dosi has kept his dreadlocks and chin hair trimmed clean. His face, however, has collected a scant few scars from his hunting days in Dorakis, all of which he doesn’t have much of a problem displaying. In fact, most of his entire exterior body has been weathered down from traveling in the hostile desert. Attire: Dosi adorns himself in the hand-crafted hunting gear he wore during his earlier life in Dorakis. It’s comprised of a hooded, tanned leather tunic and trousers, strapped with several pieces of armor made from the shells of assorted “small” insects native to Dorakis, some of which possess the trademark white hair packed between the cracks and crevices, a common motif among the wildlife there. Several belts and pouches are strapped along the outfit to give Dosi a good level of storage space when he’s on his lonesome. Personality: Unlike Darsi, Dosi is more focused on the matters at hand rather than any curiosities or wonders of what could be. A reliable sort, he shows determination and a desire to excel in just about anything he does, and he is not unfamiliar with taking charge of situations. But he works best with his brother, that’s a given, and he will always do his best to fulfill a goal he’s set out for himself or for anyone else. Hobbies/interests: In his spare time, Dosi often looks for materials and goods to use in his crafts, carving quality wood and stone into spears, staves, and bows. Every now and again you can find him practicing his embroidering with a knife and improving his attention to detail. Skills: Dosi is much more combat experienced than Darsi. He’s been trained to fight with several different types of weaponry, including battle staves, javelins, and bows. He’s definitely more capable in hunting down creatures than any humanoid enemies, though. That’s not to say he wouldn’t be able to hold his own in such a circumstance. Backstory: Darsi and Dosi Ruuk were both born twenty-one years ago to the lead family of the Ruuk Patriarchy. Before them came an eldest brother and an older sister, and afterwards came two more sisters, and finally, one last younger brother. Thus, it was a sizeable family, as was common with the Dorak. From the moment the two were born less than a minute apart (the family forgot who came first), they were nigh inseparable. Always playing together, always doing chores in tandem, everything. The only hint of a division came between their interests. Dosi grew up admiring the stories his father Damatas told of hunts and excursions and taming monstrous creatures all across the vastness of Dorakis, always aiming to follow in a similar line of service to the Patriarchy. Darsi, on the other hand, was much more enamored by the cultural liveliness of his people, aspiring to become a brewer and herbalist like his mother Carmessi. During the boys’ early years, they each took up their desired fields of skillsets from one of their parents, Dosi training daily with his father, and Darsi with his mother. Time went on, and the two quickly displayed their talents for their respective works. Fast forward some years. By the time the twins were in their teens, their parents had begun slowing down their training them and focusing more on the Patriarchy, which they were disheartened by. The Ruuk Patriarchy had been dwindling in numbers and resources at that point in time, and needed to focus on stockpiling resources. Darsi had learned how to brew quite a few drinks and incenses, and even helped domesticate a newly hatched Gimian Skora – a twin-tailed scorpion - for the Patriarchy to use as a service creature, which Dosi had helped his older brother and father to recover from a nest. They named her Karkada, after not much thought. While the twins understood their parents’ relocation of attention, they still wanted to perfect their skills. Thus, they asked to spend some time with their aunt Goka, who lived topside as an Omnik (a Dorak who has chosen not to serve a Patriarchy) atop a Varaka Bertis, along with many other experienced masters of Dorak traditions and practices. While it took some convincing and pleading, and a promise to visit every once in a while, the twins eventually got their wish. They next morning they bid the Patriarchy and Karkada farewell, and met with their aunt a short walk away. The next seven years in the twins’ lives were spent riding atop a Varaka Bertis, living with Goka. She was firm friends with some very stories individuals – hunters, brewers, crafters, herbalists, bomb makers, so on and so forth. She’d gotten them to agree to train the boys to the best of their abilities. Some were happy to pass on their knowledge and techniques, while others were a little lazy about the whole ordeal. Whatever the case, Darsi and Dosi both began training under masters that same day. Darsi took up a job as a brewer’s assistant, serving the lively community atop the Varaka Bertis with new recipes for drinks and dishes he learned, all the while practicing his other skills when he was free. Dosi joined up with a hunting group who tracked down and cleared out troublesome nests and hives, and brought back the spoils for their fellow Dorak to enjoy, learning as well to craft his own material goods like weapons and armor. The twins worked well together – Dosi went out to kill insects and gather plants and brought them back to Darsi, who used most of the resources to make food, drinks and incenses, and the unusable materials he gave back to his brother to craft into goods. The two were quickly becoming masters themselves, impressive for two Dorak at such a young age. They visited their Patriarchy frequently, bringing with them plentiful resources to help them in their trying times, for which they were grateful. But there was always an underlying sense of wanderlust between the two that made them want to see what lied beyond Dorakis. They talked and dreamed of it, but that’s all they ever did. Talk and dream. Beyond their wondering, they continued with their work. It was a productive life that the twins cherished. The good times, however, eventually came to an end. A tragedy fell upon the Ruuk Patriarchy one night when Damatas and Maliko were leading a burrowing expansion to make for more storage room. They unknowingly burrowed right into a dormant nest of Araki Dimos – Devil Spiders. The group was unprepared to face the creatures, and thus, lost several members. Among the victims, to the horror and sadness of Damatas and the rest of the Patriarchy, was Maliko, who was slated to inherit the role of Patriarch upon the former’s passing. The day after this event, Damatas sent for Darsi and Dosi to return home immediately, and of course, they did. After a brief period of mourning, Damatas explained to the twins that, with Maliko gone, one of them had to take his place as heir to the Patriarchy. And they had to decide who. The issue was, however, that neither of them wished to take over upon their father’s passing, whenever that may be. They’d grown far too accustomed to their lives topside, and had even been considering assuming Omnik status. As expected, their father was both disheartened and angered by this, reminding them that their youngest brother Koba was far too young to assume the role himself. Everything got more and more heated from that point onward. The argument eventually ended on a poor note, and Damatas resigned for the night, postponing the issue. The twins stuck around in their old den and talked the whole situation over. And after quite some thought, they decided on a course of action. The next morning, the twins were gone. They’d left a note explaining how neither of them wanted to be forced into the role of Patriarch, and how that they had officially declared themselves Omnik. They went further than that, however. After leaving with Karkada in tow – now fully grown and fitted with a small hut on her shell – they returned to Goka and explained the problem to her. She told them that Damatas would most likely have the Patriarchy come and drag them back home. Thus, she presented them with a solution – leave Dorakis. Travel around Tithe for a bit. Think things over, come back when Damatas had mellowed some. Goka said if he came around, she’d do her best to keep him from finding out where they’d gone. She herself had traveled the land some in her youth, and it was an experience she couldn’t recommend on any higher degree. In the end, the twins agreed to follow up on her suggestion with a bit of an added goal. They suddenly aspired to become merchants. Make a bit of a living outside instead of just sightseeing. They took all of their belongings and resources, stocked them up atop Karkada, hugged Goka goodbye, and set out for the borders of Dorakis. Family:

• Carmessi Ruuk, 43 (mother)
• Damatas Ruuk, 46 (father)
• Darsi Ruuk. 21 (twin brother)
• Koba Ruuk, 14 (younger brother)
• Lakshmi Ruuk, 25 (older sister)
• Maliko Ruuk, 26 (eldest brother, deceased)
• Sangessa Ruuk, 17 (younger sister)
• Tava Ruuk, 15 (youngest sister)

Relationships: | Darsi Ruuk | Great | Twin Brother | “Everything Darsi and I are, we owe to each other. I know I wouldn’t be who I am without him. And whatever happens to us out there… I hope we can both benefit from it for when we go back home. And we have to go back eventually.” Weapons: Dosi carries a reinforced battle staff with him at all times. Made from the densest wood to be found in Dorakis (which isn’t saying much, seeing as there’s only so few kinds of trees there that grow in hard-to-reach spots, but it’s still sturdy enough to be usable today), and strung about with spider silk bands and sharp ornaments taken from the spoils of past hunts. He also carries with him a small bundle of compact throwing spears (maximum of five in a quiver), all affixed with thorns from some other dangerous creature back in Dorakis, which he also coats with Karkada’s extracted venom to give them a bit more lethality. Abilities: Dosi is much more capable in combat than his brother. Swift, agile, quick to respond, Dosi is vastly experienced with fighting in both enclosed spaces and open areas. However, his experience falls primarily on hunting large, hostile creatures, and not individual soldiers (especially soldiers with guns). However, Dosi is nothing but adaptable, and he has sparred with other Dorak in the past for fun, so he’s confident in his ability to handle such situations if they ever arise. Weaknesses: Dosi’s vision is much the same as Darsi’s, and every other Dorak for that matter. Save for, however, that his senses aren’t clogged by the residue of copious incenses (he doesn’t partake in them as much as his brother does). Dosi is intent on becoming a merchant, but seeing as he has no idea how outside trade values work, he might be easily scammed the first few times until he learns how much his stock is really worth. Companion: Darsi and Dosi both ride atop a Gimian Skora – a gigantic, female, twin-tailed scorpion – named Karkada. Armored in a sturdy black shell with white fur packed between the crevices, Karkada is an imposing creature to behold. The twins raised her since she was a hatchling and, with the use of expertly crafted pacifying incenses, managed to tame her and turn her into a loyal companion. Thanks to Karkada’s sheer size and strength, she can carry the weight equivalent of a small, one-room hut atop her shell – which, incidentally, she does. Darsi and Dosi use her as a pack mule, a mobile home, and bodyguard when they are traveling through dangerous areas. Karkada, unfortunately, had her stingers removed when she was young, a precaution taken in case she ever attacked the family. Her venom glands still remain however, which Darsi uses in some of his concoctions, and Dosi coats his spears with the lethal substance. Other: Dosi sells more practical items than Darsi, including Doraki weapons such as battle staves, throwing spears, bows, and arrows. Along with them, he sells plates and guards made from the bodily remains of insects from Dorakis, all in well-kept condition. The rest of his stock is miscellaneous wares and crafts, none of which would really interest a wayward mercenary or someone of the like. And he, too, has no idea who the hell Polaris or the Red Legion are.

Lord of Owls

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Name: Lord of Owls Age: ??? Gender: ??? Species: ??? Kingdom of Origin: ??? Physical Appearance: We know not its true face. It hides it all too well. Attire: The demon hides its visage behind a mask made to depict a sinister owl, with darkened feathers, a jagged beak, and wide, blank eyes. It is dressed in a mismatch of ornate robes and cloaks, all of unknown make and manufacture. Personality: A vile thing. Wants naught to act but for its own desires. No one knows its truest intentions. Hobbies/interests: It is a collector. Keeper. Knowledge seeker. It strives to uncover the most well kept secrets of the Red Legion. By abducting their soldiers. Working its way to their Generals. Skills: The Lord of Owls is as it is named to be – silent and unseen. It hunts the Red Legion in the night and burrows its way into their minds with archaic needles and contraptions. It knows well the bodies of Tithe, as if it has picked and plucked its way through all of them. Backstory: The siege. The subjugation. The abduction. The Red Legion knows full well their crimes. Following far behind them, a horrid shadow that recalls their actions. Months prior, it began its work. Stalking patrols and encampments in the dead of night. Forcing his image into the nightmares of the slumbering. Breaking down the incorporeal walls. The Generals play it off as ghost story. Someone playing a game. But they know they have lost men to this demon. A scant few have returned, shaken and horrified, unfit for further duty. They say it has a goal. They say it wants to tear asunder the Red Legion from the inside out. They are told to never speak of it again. But amidst the ranks, the rumors persist. They saw its mask and named it the Lord of Owls. Family: ??? Relationships: Who would dare associate themselves with this creature? Weaponry: Needles. Archaic contraptions. Horrifying devices built solely for the torment and suffering of others. All of which play as mere pathways for its illusions to convey. Abilities: It may wield its nightmarish devices, but it possesses a greater power – that which stems from the fear of those who face the demon. Illusions, conjurations, lies and whispers, it utilizes all of these terrible things to break down the psyche of its prey. And when they are most vulnerable, it takes them away. And it deprives them of their secrets. Weaknesses: A soldier claimed he saw the Lord of Owls once, during a patrol. It stalked him and his compatriots in the night. Two were stolen away. But the remaining soldier fended off the demon with naught but a torch. The next light, there was no trace of its being there. But the two soldiers were still missing. The rest are somewhat at ease knowing it cannot, or will not, hunt in the day. Companion: The demon hunts alone. Much to the fortune of many a Red Legion soldier. Other: Polaris knows of the demon. He passes it off as a superstitious conjuration by naught but his men and their fearful minds. He is mistaken. The Lord of Owls will come for him. And the other Generals as well.

[Luminous Beings]

Calder

Name: Calder Age: 32 Gender: Male Species: Minotaur Kingdom of Origin: Wilderness. Physical appearance: Calder, unsurprisingly, is a big hoss. Standing at around 8’4, he’s certainly not lacking in the size department. He weighs an even 700 lbs and has been known to consume wildebeest for midnight snacks. Calder, like most of his kind, is extremely muscular. His fur is a dark black while his skin is white (albeit deeply, deeply tanned-Calder has never worn a shirt a day in his life, and could be mistaken for a Navajo or Latin American based off his skin tone. Barring, ya know, the bull’s head.), with a litany of faded scars all over his chest. He does not have the “ripped” build of most male celebrities-instead, he has the quiet, bulked strength, muscles pushing out a thin layer of fat over his arms and chest. He eats too heartily to be ripped, but is by no means out of shape-Calder’s among the strongest of his species, and is capable of great physical abilities. Calder’s horns are set wide and darken as they reach their tips-a feature many a lady minotaur has praised him for. Calder’s eyes are dark, and he has rather lovely long eyelashes. Calder’s teeth are about as nice as you’d expect, and around his neck he often wears a bone necklace. Calder’s hands are big, easily larger than any humans, and his fingernails are chipped and his fingers pretty callused. Thick dark hair covers his forearms and chest. Calder walks slowly, with his head slightly hunched. One might occasionally find a songbird perched on his horns or shoulder, or the occasional flowers littering his fur. His legs are thick-you couldn’t hope to connect your hands around them-and powerful, considerably stronger than his arms as a result of supporting his heavy upper body his whole life. His hooves are tough and, while a bit scarred, undeniably durable. Stretching up from his right hoof, there is a white, jagged line running up his fur. It branches off and coils off in some places, like an albino lightning scar. As it dances up his fur, along the side of his thigh, it reaches his waist. Once it touches flesh, it turns into a dark mark, not unlike blood poisoning. It is moving upwards towards his heart. (think this: https://images.search.yahoo.com/yhs/search;_ylt=A0LEV7.fVcxUVlYAuGInnIlQ?p=lightning+scars&fr=&fr2=piv-web&hspart=mozilla&hsimp=yhs-001 ) Attire: Calder isn’t super fond of clothes. However, he wears a simple leather kilt for the sake of decency, and while his hide is thick enough to resist most glancing blows, he also has armor that he wears more or less all the time. This is not at all up to the caliber of other nations’ armors, and is instead a hodgepodge assembly of various bones and pieces of armor from those that Calder has bested. Over his right shoulder is a curved bone plate of…some animal, gods only know what. Leather cords and some chain attach the various pieces together, with another similar (but noticeably smaller) plate covering his other shoulder, a thick leather breastplate hanging over his front, with criss-crossing chains covering his gut and back. A large rucksack is normally slung over his shoulder. Personality: Calder is an anomaly. In him rages the violence and simple strength of all Minotaur-he yearns for battle and opportunities to prove his strength over others. However, he is also far more nuanced than that. Calder craves something else-some deeper meaning, some philosophical intricacies that tribal life could not offer him. He tried fighting more. It was still there. He bested others and took their women for his own. It was still there. He ran for days on end and wrestled the strongest beasts in the Wilderness and it was still there. Calder is an avid student of the arts. He is…abysmal…at music, literature (he is not entirely literate), and painting, but he is nonetheless interested. What little money he has he often spends on books to try and improve his reading abilities, and Calder carries a sketchbook and charcoal with him (these sketches are not considered good by anyone’s definition of the word, but carry a sort of honest beauty to them). Calder is also not very intelligent-however, he seeks to understand, and is very wise in his own way. Calder considers the world around him often, and is a good judge of character. He is easily deceived and slightly gullible, almost stupidly held to a code of honor, but he is a good soul. Calder enjoys helping others and greatly enjoys meeting people. He is not very skilled with rhetoric or speaking, and is not entirely good at picking up on social cues. His ravenous hunger also tends to alarm any who break bread with Calder. Calder’s not being the smartest leads to his slow mentality. Not mentally slow, but rather a slow pace of life. Calder is never in a rush. He will mull over the same verse of poetry for days on end, trying to figure out what it means, take his time travelling from one town to the next. He often pauses to think over his words before he says them, and continues to consider a topic of conversation long after it has changed. Calder is a lover of animals. He, in fact, has an almost magical ability to interact with them. His child-at-heart nature seems to win over most creatures, and on his many journeys he has crossed paths with a great number of beasts, some of whom accompanied him a ways. Calder claims to be able to talk with them. Whether this means he is deluded into believing he can or is mentally close enough to them to be able to do so is anyone’s guess. Regardless, songbirds often find a welcome perch on Calder’s horns and can enjoy a respite from flight for many hours there. Calder appreciates beauty. He finds this in the bloodrush of defeating one’s enemies, in the sunsets that he always takes time to watch, and in the curves of a nimble dryad. He is simple and plain. He is confident but also humble. Calder does not desire much in the world-he is rugged and capable of enduring harsh conditions with relative ease. Perhaps owing to his lesser intelligence, Calder is very difficult to dismay. His determination is remarkable, and it is extremely difficult to break his morale. Upon learning of his condition, Calder’s outlook on life has greatly changed. Calder savors every moment. He takes time to watch every sunset. He always stops to talk with people. He contemplates issues a lot and looks to live life to the fullest before his time comes. Calder is at peace with the thought of death, and has a quiet, steady faith in whatever powers exist that all will be right when that time comes. Hobbies/interests: Sketches and writing poetry. He is also teaching himself to read and analyze poetry with varying degrees of success. He loves hiking and observing nature, meeting new people, and generally taking in the world around him. Calder also keeps a diary. It is almost comically terse, and occasionally cryptic (although this is a possible unintentional side effect of his writing abilities). Skills: He is hardy survivalist, tanner, and quite strong. Calder can locate food and get a fire going with very little difficulty. He is knowledgeable about a wide range of animal life and plant life and capable of applying all of his focus and energy towards a task at once. He is extremely stubborn and possesses great force of will. He’s relatively famous amongst minotaur, and can command respect if not obedience from most of them. He has traveled a great deal and is not only an experienced trekker but knows a bit about a lot of places and peoples. His understanding may be...limited...but Calder is certainly well-traveled, and can tell you a great many stories about a great many places. Backstory: Calder’s life is a story of victories. He was born and became stronger than his brothers. He fought them and bested them. Then he fought his father and bested him. Then he fought his chieftain and bested him. Then he fought other chieftains. Then he fought great wild beasts. He bested them. Calder is one of the more skilled Minotaurs in existence today. He is naturally strong, fierce, and a prime example of a warrior. He is simply good at warfare, at staying alert for days on end, at fighting on an empty stomach and bitter throat, at staying hopeful in the face of imminent death. Calder has weathered many battles and fought many adversaries. He has emerged with scars and stories but he has emerged. Calder’s life, after about seventeen, became rather dull. There simply did not seem to be much for him to do. There was a lot of fighting, but Calder found he became tired of it. Never during the act-Calder relished it, the adrenaline rush, the feel of breaking someone-there is nothing quite like it. But at night when his mates had long since begun to snore and the weeping of those he had beaten quieted down Calder came to thinking, which is something Minotaurs did not do very often. Why was he here? Was he just going to fight until one day he died? Why were his people slaves? Why did humans do that to them? What was there to life beyond his tribe? He asked his brothers these questions. They just said it was that way. He got the same answer from his father, his chieftain, the other chieftains. and, in their own way, he received the same answer from the beasts around him and the nature he delved into. Calder, one day, packed his meager belongings and set off. He bid his family goodbye and went about his way. He traveled a great many miles. There was lots of fighting to be had-sometimes to get a meal, he would agree to serve as a bouncer for a bar, a mercenary for a brief while. Slavers tried to take him sometimes. They failed. Beasts tried to kill him sometimes. They failed too. Calder grew in strength and in wisdom. He walked the earth for many years. He saw the colors of the sky dancing in the Northern Isles. He saw (and killed) a dragon in the Lonesome Valley. He saw many wondrous things. He ate. He drank. He walked some more. He is closer to finding what he is looking for, the minotaur equivalent of enlightenment, but he is not there yet. Calder is now reaching the end of his life. Not that he is anywhere close to the end of his natural life span-Calder, in his travels, came across a remnant of Cyclopian society, an old piece of magic that had been left dormant for eons. He unwittingly activated it-a booby trap of sorts. He survived the encounter, but later noticed a strange mark on his hoof. Some months later, he noticed it had progressed up a ways, burning the fur white as it went. Sometimes at night Calder thought he could feel it creeping up along his veins, working its way towards his heart as he slept. He tried sleeping standing up but that did not help, and also it made his neck hurt. He talked with wizards. They did not know what to do. He talked with soldiers. They did not know what to do. He talked with-no, actually, he didn’t talk with dryads. He blushed and started stammering when he talked to them. He started having strange dreams. Violent dreams. Scary dreams. Calder did not like fear-he felt it only very rarely. He felt somehow that when the strange ancient magic made its way to his heart he would die. For a while Calder panicked. He went feral. He drank himself into a stupor for nights on end and fought and fought and fought. It did not make him feel any better. He has since come to terms with it, and now only seeks to enjoy the remaining months he has left. He has noticed no deterioration of his physical abilities, but figures that he has roughly six months to a year left before it reaches his heart. Family: Father, brothers, mother. All of whom he has bested. Several mates. Relationships: None. Calder is a wanderer. Weaponry: He primarily wields a flammenschwert variant of a zweihander which is about seven feet long. Many braids and bones strung to leather cords hang from the pommel-likely trophies of some kind. Calder has named it Sylvia. Years of experience and his supreme physical abilities let him wield this with considerable dexterity. He has a war hammer that is about four feet long and is primarily used for carpentry work and disassembling human heads. He has named it Anastasia. He has a small knife he uses for skinning and such. He has named it Delilah. Calder also carries around a bag of primitive, minotaurian tribal cures. The efficacy of these is…strongly debatable. He is also quite skilled with taking a length of chain and beating the fuck out of something with it. He finds it cathartic, and beautifully ironic given his species’ tendency to be taken as slaves. Abilities: They will be brought before Calder and they shall be broken. Calder is an experienced, seasoned warrior who possesses about two decades of combat training on top of raw physical ability. Calder, beyond that, does not have much he can offer. He is simple, both in his gifts and in his mindset. Calder will go and fight the Red Legion because that seems like a good thing to do. There is not much more to it. That being said, this is his one ability. A hammer may only be good for driving in nails, but it is really fucking good at driving in nails. Calder understands warfare on a great many levels, and approaches combat with both calm, fatalist acceptance and the fury and passion that drives his race. He is an absolute motherfucker to fight and, while he will likely be brought low by his curse before he can see Ignion burn, he will do his tribe proud before he does. He has the barest of magical abilities that manifests in his affinity for animals. Calder can deal with animals very, very well, and loves them all dearly. This does not stop him from eating some of them. Weaknesses: Dryads. Also females of any kind. Also he’s terminally afflicted by a curse. Also he’s not very subtle. Also he’s really shitty with money. Companion: Many, but few stay for extended periods of time. Other: Polaris.

[UrbanEvolution]

Tucker Clayden

Name: Tucker Clayden Age: 25 Gender: He is man. Species: Human. Kingdom of Origin: Nepharie Physical appearance: Tucker is what most of the population would consider an attractive young human male, standing at 5’8, and being about 160-ish pounds. He’s not the big burly man that you see so often from his race, rather, he has the lean and mean kind of build. Being built thinner than most humans, he is faster than them too, and more agile as a person. He had long and messy blonde hair and that falls to the bridge of his nose and would cover his eyes if he didn’t brush it to the side messily. Due to being what is equivalent to a European complexion, he has fair skin. He has a boyish face. Described as having a square face that’s slightly thinner than average, with a razorblade jawline that’s covered in stubble that runs up and long his lip, and up the center of his chin. His nose is what would be described as ‘greek’. His high cheekbones and thin lips give him a general masculine, but fairly attractive appearance. His eyebrows, because he is a natural blonde, share a slightly darker shade of his hair making them only barely noticeable from time to time. He has almond shaped eyes, and vivid Irish green irises. His body has a few burn marks, and some scars from crazy exes, but after that he’s pretty well off appearance wise. (Based loosely on this image, credit to author: http://i.imgur.com/u7FseTl.jpg ) Attire: His outfit now is partly leather around his upper body with what appears to be a type of armor along with arm brackets that seem to all be designed by himself. This leather armor can be removed somewhat easily, but because it is light, is fairly comfortable in most situations. It is adjourned with a blue beaked cloth hood that goes over his light armoring making him look more like his dragon. The beak allows him to pull it over his head and still keep it on while in the air, as to keep his appearance hidden even more so. He has brown leggings, with fur booths that are held up but a thick leather belt. This belt not only restricts his other dragon, but also holds up a sheath that holds a short sword. On his back he has a bow and arrow quiver strapped down to his back, held down by a leather strap that goes across his chest and over the hood. He keeps a flute on him at almost all times, and his messenger bag is almost always on his figure, effectively allowing him to carry some money, basic first aid, a few concoctions Arya makes, and various other trinkets like a canteen and stuff. On his hip opposite to his sword he has his throwing knives sheathed, but ready for use at almost any given time. Personality: Hide yo kids, hide yo wife, and hide yo husbands, because Tucker the fucker be banging everything with a heartbeat out there. Tucker, being a bard, is excellent at playing music, and is just as good at playing people. He can look at how people act and normally be able to come to a fairly accurate conclusion about them within a few minutes. He’s also pretty good at talking sweet, talking trash, and striking up conversation. He’s the classy sonovagun that everyone kind of dislikes but never seems to hate enough to get rid of because he’s the kind of person to call it as he sees it. He’s not really a leader of a person, anyone with his kind of sarcasm and general personality doesn’t have the qualities required to demand authority like a real leader does, even if he does ride a dragon. He’s infamous for doing his own thing more than anything else. Swinging along with Arya or because there’s something interesting. Most people see him as a womanizer, and he can be sometimes. At his age, while he might be that somewhat, is actually less forward physically as he is verbally. In some ways he’s not quite as bad as other men, but that won't stop him from walking around with his head held high if he got the prettiest girl in the bar into a room with him for the night. Skills: Well for one he’s pretty good at getting laid, and is pretty good at holding his alcohol. He’s excellent in the air and despite being a general nuisance he is pretty good at working as a team with Arya. He is, after all, the most deadly then. Being a bard, he is especially good at the flute, drums, Violin, and guitar. He’s also damn good at preparing food. Backstory: Tucker’s life didn’t get interesting until he was ten, when he essentially was left a gift by an unknown person late in the night. It was a break in, and they left the huge ovular object in the family’s living room. His family initially planned to eat it, but he stepped in, wanting to see what it was. He regretted that decision a few days later when he touched it for the first time. Essentially it had some magical aspect to it, which traveled and burnt his hand badly on the palm, leaving the mark of a serpent of some kind. The egg hatched only moments later. Yeah, uh, lets say that they had another mouth to feed, which turned into a much larger mouth within a few years. His family was intent on putting the beast down at this point, but was stopped by the one of the city’s prodigies, Arya Faylen, who was intent on studying the creature. Pretty soon he was being forced to go hunting with the bull-sized beast on his own time in order for the family to be able to feed themselves, the wyvern being allowed to live on the case that it was an educational tool that was very hard to come by for well… anyone. Needless to say, that’s how Tucker became good with his bow and hunting, as well as preparing food. He’d be gone for days at a time now and then after all. Arya and himself became close over the years; her being so intelligent and knowledgeable in so many things drew his interest. She, for the most part, took very little interest in him until the Dragon, whom he had named Calypso (Cali for short) turned on the young woman, intent on very much trying to force her upon her rider. She was calmed down of course (Bad dragon, very bad dragon!), but Arya took notice of how well he did with the beast and began learning more about him as a person. Initially it was to learn to get closer to the dragon, but soon they ended up as very close friends. One night of drinking however rocked their boat a lot when they woke up naked with each other. Tucker being uncharacteristically confused, and Arya politely kicking him the fuck out of the room so she could. They had a fallout after that for a while, but came back together again as friends when Arya herself accidentally met him at a bar one time. That was a few years ago. Now they’re about as close as can be, comfortable enough with one another to the point of which Arya challenged him their bet after hearing him boast about being the manliest man to ever walk Tithe. Now they travel, in search of females, adventure, magic, and the best alcohol one can taste. Oh, and a map. They’ve been lost for a while. Family: He’s got his mom and pop, and then he has his best friend Arya and then Cali, who is bonded to him for life. Relationships: | Arya | Excellent | Kinda Loves | “Arya and I have been with each other for a long time, a really long time. She’s smart, too much so to go for someone like me. She’s my best friend and I always find myself tracking myself back to her.” | Weaponry: Large: Bow Medium: Short Gladius sword Small: Throwing knives. Abilities: While he is not exactly a big bloke, he is still fairly strong for his size, and is excellent with his weapons of choice (he’s also pretty good at swinging his guitar, but Maxx wont let me count that as a weapon, that shit) (if you hit someone with a guitar the instrument would shatter after the first hit. And don’t call me a shit or I’ll fire you) (I know full well it would and that doesnt stop me from wanting to hit someone with one you poop). He’s quick on his feet for a man and knows how to throw a punch. If worst comes to worst, his dragon is always close by and ready to back him up. He is also excellent when it comes to aim with his knives. Weaknesses: Well for one, he’s not as built as the average person, meaning he’s not as strong and doesn’t take hits as well. His tactic is to mainly just dart in and out and be flexible and adaptable and work with his dragon. Speaking of his dragon, while it might be an excellent companion with intelligence akin to that of a human’s itself; it is big and therefore not very sneaky. Sure, when it’s hunting elk or something it knows how to be a stealthy flier but in caves and other situations the creature can be a hassle to be around and deal with. There’s also the fact that she has a bad habit to breathing small puffs of fire when she sneezes or coughs or whatever and her smoke isn’t exactly a good thing always. Tucker’s personality makes him hard to get along with at times and more often than not he’ll end up storming off with his dragon in tow, leaving Arya to either slap him back to reality or let him go, hoping he’ll come back. He’s stubborn as a mule sometimes. Also when he throws one of his knives there is the chance that the enemy gets out of the way and then suddenly they can pick up a throwing knife themselves. He knows no magic, despite pretty much spending every waking moment with a wizard. Companion: Tucker here is what the people call a ‘dragon rider’. His companion is a relatively large blue dragon that he has named Cali (Short for Calypso). Cali is a Victorian blue Wyvern style dragon, meaning it was no front limbs and walks on two legs using a long and powerful tail to balance. It’s skin is smooth and has very few bumps and spikes on it. The dragon’s main method of movement is it’s long and powerful back legs, which free it’s huge and dexterous bat like wings. Despite being over ten feet tall and over thirty feet long, with a sixty foot wingspan, Cali only weighs about two tons, meaning she is relatively light for a creature her size. She IS capable of breathing fire. In fact, she can breath it in several forms. The first is a high powered, concentrated blast that only lasts a few seconds but has high impact and incredible heat, the second is regular fire (can't go wrong!) and the final is smoke, her favorite. In fact, she often blows smoke in Tucker’s face when he annoys her. This elemental ability has a range of up to forty feet, and is used almost too often by the damn drake as if it were an instrument of music to a bard. She knows it annoys both Arya and Tucker and that’s probably why she does it. As an extremely intelligent variation of dragon, she is capable of understanding nearly everything said to her and reacts to it in a way akin to that of a fellow human or elf (only difference being she can't say anything back). So much so she’s actually pretty interested in political or religious conversations when they do spike up. She gets pissy, she gets angry, and can be excited and prideful and proud and friendly and jealous and tends to display all of these emotions and everything between on a regular basis. However, perhaps her most valuable aspect is her speed and maneuverability in the air. She has an aerodynamic frame, and her gargantuan wingspan (which is about twice her already impressive length) gives her incredible propulsion, so much so that there is the potential to knock a man over with a few wingbeats. This speed allows her to hit hunting dive of two hundred miles an hour, and have a maximum horizontal flight speed of about 105 mph. On the base of her back, just behind her long and powerful neck, is Tucker’s two person saddle, which has several things tied to it. She has a leather bag or two of this and that on one side, and Tucker’s Guitar and violin on the other side to balance it out. She doesn’t carry too much because she needs to fly, but she still has some of the things they need, the essentials mainly. Like all dragons, her scales are tough and hard to penetrate. Most arrowheads, while they might be able to go poke through, won't go deep enough to cause a serious amount of harm if removed soon after. Swords and axes however are best avoided. Cali has gargantuan wings, and uses them effectively, the problem is, these wings are huge targets if she’s planning to dive in or spew fire all over the prey she or Tucker set. The skin is fairly thin on her wing membranes, and therefore things like arrowheads will go through them. While this initially won’t be a huge issue, several arrows can cause her wings to tear which is very painful and can leave her stranded on the ground if she survives the crash landing. While the wings will heal, it can take a while for this to occur. There is also the factor that if she hits her maximum nose dive speed, she can sometimes have a hard time pulling up without hurting herself. (Based off of this image, credit to author: http://th04.deviantart.net/fs71/PRE/i/2012/262/9/0/___dragon_rider____by_sinistereternity-d5f8mh2.png ) Other: Tucker claims he can speak to Cali with his mind, and even see through her eyes with her. Arya think’s its a load of shit. He is also in a bet with Arya to bed every race in Tithe. Polaris ain’t got shit.

Arya Falen

Name: Arya Falen Age: 27 Gender: Female. Species: Elf Kingdom of Origin: Nepharie Physical appearance: Being an elf, she is not a very large person by genetics. At 5’5, she’s fractionally smaller than the average human. Very few people actually know what kind of elf she is, as she looks more like a halfling than anything else. She has an odd skin color, a pale white that seems to almost glow like that of the moon at night, like a snow elf of some kind. She’s thin, but wiry in build, as is the nature of her species. To start things off, she has an oval shaped face and thin almond shaped with long eyelashes, curious blue eyes that seem to analyze anything and everything she see. She has a small mouth adjourned with full natural lips. Her nose is somewhat small, and round in shape. Her body is visibly taught with wiry muscle by nature, and her thin frame has worked against her somewhat, making her breasts and rear smaller than the preferred size. Her legs are what make her so tall for a female elf, being long and thin. Being built like a runner, she is in fact good at running, but not so much in terms of physical value, making her wits and her magic her strongest aspects. She has very long brown hair, often tied into a ponytail and split at the center of her forehead into long curtain like bangs that fall past her chin. Her eyebrows are thin and brown like her hair. Light freckling goes across her nose. Like all elves, she has long pointy ears that stick out of her hair. She has a golden ear ring pierced into the right one. Her body is almost scarless due to healing magic being used almost as soon as an injury is acquired. (Based upon this image, credit to author: http://th03.deviantart.net/fs12/300W/i/2006/298/c/3/Female_Wizard_by_Kuroi1nu.jpg ) Attire: Her attire is well... odd. She visibly looks like a person who performs the ethereal arts often. On her forearms which are padded and made of light metal. Obviously not meant for much protection. Along it however it has intricate inscriptions and art carved into it by no doubt a master craftsman. Her upper body is covered by brown leather and a blue wool undershirt, the leather bearing similar designs pressed into it with some portions cut out to hold small stones or her undershirt. Above that, she wears a thick leather and wool half cape, which falls to the middle of her back and partially covers her arms, leaving only her forearms and elbows exposed. Along her neck, underneath the collar folds of the half cape, she has a golden amulet with three jewels pressed into it, blue, green, and red each. The amulet is no doubt worth a lot of money, and she always keeps it on her person because of it. Her waist is covered with two criss-crossed straps that rest on her hips, each holding a medium sized pack that rests on either side of her thigh, tightly held in place. On her legs she wears black leggings and trekking boots over her feet, with light leather padding on the front of her legs and on her knees. Personality: There's only one kind of person who can be around Tucker for such a long period of time, and that is the kind of cool, calculated genius with a sprinkle of wicked sarcasm and dark humor that can not only use your jabs against you, but make an idiot out of everything you are and do should they choose to. Arya is incredibly smart, too much so for her own good at times. She won't even attempt to fight some battles if she knows the chances are small and will almost always try to find the easiest route or a win-win situation. In that way, she's incredibly lazy. She's an incredibly studious woman, her nose is almost always in some book, or writing something down in her note pad. when she's not dragging Tuck out of trouble. Being a mage, she's a practiced analytic and while Tucker might be better at reading people, she's superior in well... Reading everything else. Very few things get her legitimately excited or happy that aren't books of magic or Tucker making a fool of himself. She can be awkward with new people, more often than not coming off as cold until she deems them worthy of her attention. She will often question life in general, and anything else that falls under the purview of philosophy. What is, what has been, what could've been, and what could be are very big questions she often asks herself. Hobbies/interests: Reading, writing, philosophy, as an alchemist in training she’s fairly good at making concoctions that stimulate healing or strength or buff something or another. She’s taken to writing music for Tucker. She’s spent many years working with various forms of magic and in doing so has learned how to identify a few of the more well known magical or exotic creatures in the land. Skills: Alchemy, spellcasting, working under pressure, multi tasking, confusing the hell out of people with hard questions, etc. She is excellent at using magic for practical purposes and often does use it to assist in various everyday things. New spells are used on Tucker for practice. Backstory: Arya's life has been relatively streamlined since she was young. Due to her family being elite and wealthy scholars in the magical field, as soon as she could walk and talk she was taught how to use Light magic. The basics mainly, but it was clear she was a prodigy at it from the start. Her affinity to the arts were uncanny even by her heritage. At the age of ten she was sent to college of the ethereal arts to learn how to use light magic. She spent several years in this school, only having a day off during a week of almost constant schooling and direction in her art and other various things (for example, she knows how to read and write, while Tucker didn't know how to read until she taught him). At the age of thirteen she came to know Tucker's family and his dragon, whom she saved from being slaughtered by the family for lack of means to take care of it. Assisting the family with some of her own family's money, the young drake was spared and life continued on relatively normally after that, except now she had a tool to study. A creature of myth and legend to conduct research on. When she was sixteen the dragon turned upon her for an unknown reason, and Tucker stepped in to calm the beast. It was then that they began getting closer. Arya initially did so to gain protection from the now fairly large beast, but quickly became attached to Tucker's magnetic personality. The years trailed on and Arya continued her schooling. At the age of twenty one things went odd when she went out drinking with Tucker and other friends. Essentially the two woke up to one another. They drifted from one another for a while, only to reunite again at the same bar a few years later at the age of twenty-three. Basically they ended up hugging one another and have been virtually inseparable ever since. One night she made a bet with him to bed every race in Tithe. Now they travel, looking for spellbooks, gold, females, and glory. And a map, because they've been lost as shit since Cali burnt the map up on accident. (“accident”) Family: She is of an elite line, and and therefore her family has taken good care of itself. Her mother, father, brother, and even her grandparents are still alive. Relationships: | Tucker | Good | Best Friend | “He’s a good man, a valuable ally, and I dare say he’s the only person I'd put my life on the line for.” | Weaponry: Large: A Staff. Medium: Magic Small: Various vials of potions she’s made, A dagger. Abilities: She is a prodigy at magic, and has expertly acted upon her natural affinity with the art. She has been learning to use and control light magic since she could talk. Initially from her parents, and then from her college, where she stayed for the better portion of her life. She has been practicing the art in depth for over seventeen years diligently and has therefore become very adept at using the elements she has at her disposal, with mishaps here and there of course. But generally she's reliable and an excellent backup. She also carries her staff which she sometimes used as a medium for casting and/or hitting. She has developed the very interesting ability to cast electricity, and in doing so has figured out how to chain it to closeby targets as to harm them at the same time. Her alchemy has been something she’s always been fairly good at, and in her satchels she normally carries various ingredients and vials which she will brew at a later date. She almost always has a few healing potions on her person at all times in case magic can’t be relied on, normally has an emergency seed she can plant if she starts feeling unnaturally tired. Weaknesses: While she is powerful and agile, she is not very good on the physical front. She is a spellcaster, a mage, not a brawler or an up close fighter. If you manage to get past her tricks, she is left relatively defenseless. She also doesn't have much protection from ranged weaponry such as bullets, bolts, or arrows that are not wards of some kind or ironflesh. She also needs to plant seeds fairly often due to her common use of magic. She is limited in the same ways all elves are. On the personal side, while she is fairly dexterous she does wear glasses and if those are knocked off her vision is severely impaired. Companion: She and Tucker both consider Cali their dragonic companion, even though Cali is imprinted upon and is Tucker's dragon. Other: Polaris doesn't like magic? He ain't seen nothing yet.

Tooth-In-The-Sea

Name: Tooth-In-The-Sea (Tooth for short). Age: 53 Gender: Male Species: Saurian Kingdom of Origin: Tropics Physical appearance: Tooth is a very large being, standing in the upper sizes of the Saurian race, being 8'1 and weighing about six hundred pounds give or take (without his armor he’s probably in the 500’s). He's really just a big guy. He's covered in short square charcoal colored feathers, and has deep black scales. These feathers usually maroon in coloration at the ends. On the underside of his arms and insides of his legs and belly, he has white, pristine feathers. Along his neck he has red plumage that is normally relaxed against his neck, but like a bird's can stand on end when alarmed. He has four fingers and three toes, each tipped with small and somewhat pointy claws. His feathers cover up his vast array of scars and healed wounds. (Based upon this image: http://th09.deviantart.net/fs70/PRE/f/2011/104/a/a/iomethus_by_silvac-d3dyb91.png ) Attire: A simple long sleeve leather and cloth tunic is what he wears over his feathers and scales, but over that, his exteriors looks far more intimidating. He has two huge metal and fur padded shoulder pads that are strapped across his chest, and two thick and dark steel metal gauntlets that rest over his forearms and the back of his hand, held in place by furs and gauze like straps that go around the underside of his hands, leaving his fingers free. His chest is covered with thick bone armor, most likely taken from something that was armored in life. His leggings are composed of thick leather and much like his arms, has thick metal guards over his shins half in place by leather and gauze like straps. He wears no shoes on his feet. On his tail he has segmented armor that goes along the base, but disappears somewhat abruptly as it flattens out. He wears no helmet, instead he has a hood attached, which he often has up. On each of his hips he has the blades strapped in their sheaths, and on his back he has his crossbow. Behind the sheath on his left hip his crossbow bolt case, and on the right he has his satchel. (Based upon this image: http://img3.wikia.nocookie.net/__cb20140904013204/elderscrolls/images/0/07/FmOnK.jpg ) Personality: Overall, Tooth is what most view as the quiet one. The person who enjoys their 'me time' more than anyone else. He watches and listens when need be but is otherwise near the back, quiet. Some might define him as a follower, or two unintelligent to add to it. They'd be dead wrong. Tooth is a very intelligent person who, when listening to plans, fonds their faults and does his best to cover them. He is an extremely patient person. Having spent so many years on voyages or trading routes, he has built up a resilience to the effects of time most men never have. This resilience has been applied to most of her personality, making him slow to anger or become frustrated, as well as slow to be entertained or befriended. He is a very hesitant person because he has seen a lot of different people. From the nicest to the most twisted there are, and he's met a lot of the latter. This makes him slow to trust people in general and while others rely on him, he always has an eye out for himself. He always watches his own back with diligent regard. Going as far as to set trip wires around his sleeping quarters or water buckets at the top of doors to alert him if he sleeps. If he is in the presence of a particular individual, he won't sleep at all. He is a firm believer in forgive but do not forget. For some, like Apollos, he does not regard them as scum of the earth or to be killed on sight any longer. However he keeps his money close to his person at all times, and still regards him as the person he once was and knows what he's capable of doing. This mental dictionary has saved his life before. He always seems to be in a state of zen, with his voice being flat and devoid of emotion even if he feels it. He never lets his opposition, or even his friends and allies, know that he's tiring or angry. He sees some emotions as having nothing but negative and useless value, and therefore makes every attempt to separate himself from them. Hobbies/interests: Carving, mapmaking, fishing, listening, and watching. He has an appreciation for music, and generally keeps a logbook of his adventures and travels. He can often be found writing or drawing things that he’d found or discovered in their journey. Skills: As a sailor he is extremely well versed in the lands and almost always has a good sense of where he is in the world. Time zones, land formations, battlegrounds, unsafe territory, he can give a good idea of where they are and point the group in the right direction. He also speaks several languages, and is able to communicate with most people enough to get an idea of what’s going on or what is being sold. As a trader, he is excellent at finding good deals and sniffing out rip offs. Due to his area of origin and experience outside of it he’s also pretty good on telling you what his edible and what is not, and what ingredients have what effect. He’s not a good alchemist, but he knows what the good alchemists want. He also knows how to set up camp and is very knowledgeable in the ‘how to’s of surviving in the wild during traveling. Backstory: Tooth is fairly secretive person when it comes to his life. What IS known however is that he was and is a sailor and has been one for upwards of twenty years, the only reason he's not sailing is due to wanting to travel the land for a while. In being a sailor he's met a lot of people, and has learned a lot of things about about the land of Tithe. In being a sailor he has also had to deal with his fair share of marauders in the past. He's nearly been killed several times, has been thrown off his ship, been taken as prisoner, etc. In all of these cases, he has survived. He has been through a few ships, and eventually, he learned how to really become a man worth being feared. Some of the most feared pirates of the seas learned to fear his name and avoid his ships. His swordsmanship was unmatched, his wits and ability to sail the seas were unrivaled, and his ability to strike a good deal? Legendary. It’s been several years since then, but many markets still know his name, and he has many stories to tell, and many to be made. Family: Most of his family has passed away of older age, but he does have a divorced mate and two children. All three of which he doesn’t see often anymore, due to not being in the Tropics. Relationships: Placeholder. Weaponry: Large: Crossbow Medium: A four foot long steel Khopesh sword. Small: A Tomahawk, and a blowpipe with a few (about six) nonlethal hallucinogenic poison darts. Abilities: As a Saurian, he enjoys several of the advantages that the other races do not, such as size and his senses. He will smell or hear people coming before anyone else sees them. There is also the fact that his size makes him hard to directly confront. There is also the fact that as a sailor he has learned how to fight, and he has learned how to fight well, as far as to besting Apollos in a swordfight all those years ago. Years of defending his ship has left him with incredible swordsman skills and his extra limb that is his tail gives him an extra edge in a fight. His vision is excellent in the dark, so far as to be considered night vision, allowing him to see things where others cannot. He is an excellent shot with his crossbow. Finally, he knows how to set traps, and knows some… interesting methods for beating enemies such as literally starting forest fires to starve them out before moving on, for example. Weaknesses: While he is a rather intimidating person, he isn’t without weakness. He is subject to the same weaknesses that the Saurian race is normally subject to (such as being colorblind and sensory overloaded), as well as the ever present cold blooded factor that is unique to his species. Finally, while he was once one of the most deadly men to roam the seven seas that even pirates feared happening upon, the is the fact that he is not what he used to be. Being in his early fifties, Tooth is starting to slow down. His race tends to live to the seventies or eighties, so he is beginning to reach that point where his ability to heal is getting slower, he can’t throw himself around like he used to be able to, hangovers are all days things, if he bangs his arm or falls down he feels it in the morning, he’s past his prime by now. While he might’ve been able to beat enemies like he did once before, he himself recognizes that he probably doesn’t have the youth required to best some of the toughest foes around any longer. Companion: N/A Other: “There are some men who need to be stopped. Polaris is one of them.”

[Nron]

Sikarthis

@Credit for image used in Physical Appearance goes to lowenael over at dA Name: Sikarthis Age: 470 Gender: Male Species: Glacial Knight Kingdom of Origin: Glaces, The Northlands Physical appearance: Standing at a sizable height of 6'5", Sikarthis is readily recognizable even among a throng of his fellow Glacial Knights. Though somewhat slender, his frosty form has been honed and hardened by centuries of warfare, training, and hardships into an almost unmatched fighting machine. Narrow eyes, high cheekbones and a permanent look of irritation give Sikarthis a rather unapproachable appearance that mirrors his feelings towards the majority of those he is forced to deal with. Sikarthis keeps his hair long, preferring to keep it on either side of his face and out of his eyes. As he shaves only every so often it is not uncommon to find him with stubble or the beginnings of a beard on his face. His skin, like all Glacial Knights, has the appearance of a frosted, iced over lake. Attire: Like all Glacial Knights, Sikarthis dons a uniquely crafted set of armor made of extremely hard and durable ice, though he had changed quite a bit of it throughout the centuries. His armor consists of shoulder pauldrons, a cuirass with an attached groin and thigh guard, flexible 'mail and micro-plate' sleeve coverings that extend over his hands, and a pair of greaves. Sikarthis has long chosen to forfeit the use of a helm, choosing instead a simple head wrap that leaves little more than the area around his eyes exposed. This has serves the dual purposes of protecting him from smoke and similiar battlefield hazards as well as keeping his identity hidden from his enemies. Much of this armor is lighter than the kind commonly worn by Glacial Knights and therefore not quite as good at protecting him from harm. This does mean however that he is significantly more flexible and agile than most of his fellows, allowing him to make full use of his weapon of choice and the fighting style that goes with it. When not wearing his armor Sikarthis wears a simple covering over his genitalia for decency's sake. Personality: Among the speciesist Glacial Knights Sikarthis is counted as one of the most difficult members of leadership to pinpoint in terms of political standing. While he makes no attempt to hide his contempt and irritation towards those outside his own species it has not gone unnoticed that he has little praise or time even for his fellow Knights. Added to that are recent rumors that he and the Haderlock envoy Tári Númenessë have been attending to one another at night, further putting doubts on his views towards outsiders. Whatever his actual stance on the matter, none can argue that he is unfit for his current position as both lead diplomat and renowned lieutenant for Glaces. Renowned for his cold, calculating approach to both diplomacy and war, Sikarthis views every conversation, debate, engagement and even every tumble in the sheets as a battle of wits and wills where one side must come out on top. Lacking nothing for patience he bides his time in all matters, feigning disinterest or foolishness until such a time that he can make use of an opponent's overconfidence or laxness to gain the upper hand. This approach to life has won him many battles and enemies, both on the field and inside the walls of Glaces. Despite any misgivings about his views on foreigners his success as a commander and a tactician have also earned him great respect from those serving under him and it is rare to find him without attendants or hanger-ons looking for approval or handouts. He is fond of using simple board games as a means of gauging his opponents off of the battlefield as well, much to the irritation of several of his regular correspondents. Sikarthis, unlike the rest of his kind, has for the past century had his gaze turned towards the south, past the borders of the Northlands and into The Wilderness where he claims untold power and resources await his people. His fellow officers (and indeed the general himself) have attempted to dissuade him from that line of thought, pointing out that the distance, weather difference, and manpower required to make such an expedition and hold any territory claimed would stretch thin their already small numbers. Were he more approachable Sikarthis might find allies in his arguments but as it were his blunt, callous approach to dealing with others does not translate well to making friends or good first impressions. Some have wondered how he managed to become the finest diplomat in Glaces given this fact. Hobbies/interests: Sikarthis generally spends his free time locked away in his chambers while inside the walls of Glaces, reading from an extensive and ever expanding library of scrolls, tomes, tablets and carvings on a variety of subjects. Often his focus is on military and political history and the tactics of the past, both inside and outside of the Northlands. Trade with Haderlock has given him many a new avenue with which to pursue this interest. Not content just read about such matters, it is not uncommon to find Sikarthis one of the many training halls about Glaces, practicing constantly to turn studied material into practical, proven techniques. As Tári Númenessë is currently the only ambassador in Glaces he has recently spent a sizable amount of time verbally sparring with her about matters both important and inane. The two have also taken to bouncing languages off the other in a sort of impromptu dialect trade. So far Sikarthis has learned more words in more languages for the male genitalia than he had likely been expecting. Skills: Sikarthis speaks several languages and dialects thanks to his centuries of dedicated study, though his understanding of some is more rudimentary at best. Diplomacy is also a strong suit of his and he is well known for his ability to gain the upper hand (or at least even the playing field) in even the most seemingly one sided of talks. He for finding Backstory: While it is no mystery that Sikarthis has risen to two positions of power within Glaces few seem to recall exactly how it was that he managed to reach the heights he has today. Many attribute his position and power to connections within the king's court while others talk of favoritism from the general. In reality however Sikarthis rose through the ranks as anyone did, from the very bottom upwards by his own hand. Low ranking soldiers themselves, the young Glacial Knight was groomed for war long before he had reached even his first decade of life. In the years before his enlistment into the military proper Sikarthis had little interaction with his family outside of daily training when they were stationed inside of Glaces, preferring instead to spend his time out by the harbor watching and waiting for ships to come in. Serving as little more than a foot soldier for half of his first century of life Sikarthis drew the attention of his commanding officers through his tactical insight and prowess with his redaktsyia on the battlefield. The young soldier was difficult not to notice, his unwillingness to back down from a challenge and his apparent skill making it quite clear to his superiors that he intended to do better for himself than his low ranking parents ever had for themselves. From there it was not long until he was leading small squads of his own men and eventually taking orders directly from the general himself. No matter the task Sikarthis proved himself to be an able and adaptable commander as well as a talented warrior. After two centuries of continually proving his worth there were few above him who could deny that a lieutenant's rank was his by rights and even those detractors fell silent on the day that Sikarthis held a mountain pass with a small number of soldiers at his command against a force several times their size. Despite heavy losses, his own parents among them, Sikarthis managed not only to drive back the assaulting force but even beheaded the enemy commander in single combat before leading a counter attack that left the enemy force entirely shattered. A lieutenant's rank now attached to his name, Sikarthis was able to focus on other matters of interests him, namely the study of history and diplomacy. Three decades of study brought him to a point where he believed he could match wits with the best of them and it quickly became apparent to those in Glaces that he was right. As the decades have passed his studies have continued alongside his military career, his experience in both expanding along with his power within the ranks of the general populace. Recently, with the trade between Glaces and Haderlock as well as the arrival of their diminutive ambassador, Sikarthis has stepped up his discussions about expanding south of the Frost River. So far few have been willing to give the idea much thought. Family: Both of Sikarthis' parents died in battle under his command. They were low ranking soldiers of little importance and therefore not worth mentioning as far as he is concerned. Relationships: Tári Númenessë | Questionable | Frienemy | As cunning as she is small, yet overly fond of vulgarities. Little more than an irritating elf in my book. And yet... Weaponry: Large: Sikarthis carries into battle the same weapon he has carried since the first day he stepped onto a battlefield, a redaktsyia (Bladestaff in the Iceman tongue) forged from the same enchanted ice as all Glacial Knight weapons. Perfectly balanced and fairly light despite its size, this polearm gives Sikarthis an impressive amount of flexibility in how he uses it as well as quite a bit of breathing room to work with. The weapon is around ten nine feet in height, the extremely sharp and durable blade making up three of those feet. (It's basically just a really big, reinforced naginata) Medium: Though he rarely uses it, Sikarthis possesses a short sword measuring roughly two and a half feet in length. It is crafted from the same material as his polearm, though the design is less elegant and more designed around causing maximum trauma upon retracting a stab. Small Abilities: Centuries of study, training, and combat experience have turned Sikarthis into one of the most dangerous warriors in the Northlands, his icy polearm leaving bloody trails through the air as it cleaves through flesh and bone alike. Lethality and grace mark his every movement, from the way he seems to dance away from blows to the twirling of his hands as he slices through the neck of a hapless foe. With his body tempered and his mind razor sharp it is no wonder that he has amassed a collection of heads belonging to the commanders and champions who faced him in battle and lost. Where Sikarthis is truly skilled however is in his grasp of military tactics and his ability to marshal men to his side. Few lieutenants are as capable of inspiring their soldiers into an unwavering fighting machine or playing mind games with an enemy commander until he finds himself surrounded and half his troops dead at his feet as Sikarthis is. Weaknesses: Along with all of the usual weaknesses common among Glacial Knights Sikarthis adheres to a strict warrior code (and a nagging voice in the back of his head) that prevents him from turning away from most challenges presented to him. Given the choice he will gladly face an opposing force twice his size with little more than a handful of men, so sure of his own abilities that he fails to foresee any negative outcome. His attitude towards others is also often a hindrance, as despite his current positions within the Glacial Knight society he has little in the way of allies or friends and even less luck making any outside of his species. With this comes an unwillingness to accept support from most individuals, seeing it as a sign of weakness when he cannot rely fully on himself. Some within Glaces would say that the recent arrival of a certain ambassador has also count as a weakness, though not within his earshot. Companion: Loshad' - A horse made of enchanted ice. Loyal, quiet, and with an attitude quite similar to his master's. Other: Capricus

Tári Númenessë

Name: Tári Númenessë Age: 70 Gender: Female Species: Elf - Volcanic Kingdom of Origin: Originally: The Wilderness, Phoenix mountains. Currently serving as Ambassador of Haderlock to the Glacial Knights of Glaces. Physical appearance: Weighing in at a grand total of 93 lbs and an impressive height of 4'9" it is small wonder that Tári often goes unnoticed, the fact that her ebony skin is in direct contrast with her naturally red hair keeping her from fading entirely into the background. Of course, her slender but shapely form also plays a large part in gaining attention, making up in other places what she lacks in height. Tári prefers to keep her hair off her back and shoulders, sweeping a portion of it over her the left side of her face in order to keep her scar and clouded eye hidden from immediate view. She has a button nose, largish eyes, a rosy complexion (difficult to notice with her skin tone) and the shape of her face could best be described as an inverted triangle. The edges of her mouth appear to have a natural upward curve as well as it seems there is always a smile of one kind or another on her face. Not entirely cut off from her culture, Tári maintains the ceremonial markings of her tribe, though they lack the reddish pigment commonly used by her people. (And because I'm a visual person here's the closest I could make of this 2lewd shorty x x x) Attire: Due to the extreme temperatures of Glaces and the Northlands in general, Tári is more often than not wearing several layers of woolen underclothes and a fur coat given to her on her initial arrival to Glaces that extends down to around her shins. A fur hat of some kind is not out of the question and gloves are a must in the frigid city as well, though due to her higher than normal body temperature she can often forgo a few layers on the warmer days. When not bundled up (generally when she is in her private quarters where there is actual heat) Tári tends towards rather revealing dresses or gowns of a reddish hue. Bangles, necklaces, earrings and other jewelry also makes an appearance during such times. Personality: Many in history have questioned what a cat would be like if it were turned into a human. Tári is likely the closest answer to that question. Possessed of a 'Do-As-I-Like' attitude and the self assurance that the world revolves around and will adapt to her, Tári has waltzed her way through life so far with hardly a care. Charming to the extreme and well aware of the effect she has on most men (and some women), she's never been afraid to use her 'talents' to further her own goals. Coming from a tribe of volcanic elves in a harsh, unforgiving terrain that takes more lives than it gives the nubile young elf has always viewed intimacy as a daily part of life that someone with the right attitude can use to their advantage. Notoriously lazy as well, it is often a wonder to her peers how she managed to become an ambassador at all. It is not uncommon to find her slumped into a chair in front of a warm fire, fast asleep after a meal or discussion with the Glacial Knight leadership. When not snoozing or floozing she can often be found enjoying the finer things in life. This normally includes copious amounts of fermented alcohol, decadent desserts and succulent meat. Tári is, as befits her job, a social butterfly who excels at conversation, bartering, and manipulating small numbers of individuals towards a certain subject or train of thought. This, her looks, and her ability to debate with the best of them made her an ideal candidate to act as ambassador from Haderlock to Glaces. Hobbies/interests: The fineries afforded to her by her position. Food, drink, soft fabrics, exotic creatures and extravagant clothing. Dancing, painting and digging up juicy gossip are also on that list. She also has an interest in jewelery crafting and body markings, both things her people are quite skilled at. Skills: Tári is a people person. She enjoys conversation, she enjoys debate, and she enjoys manipulating others into doing what she wants with as little effort as possible. Her years of fine living and time spent at a counsel table discussing trade agreements have left her with a better understanding of bartering and the cost of goods than most, making her a dangerous customer in any store. Furthermore, Tári has a knack for learning languages both written and spoken, shown by her unofficial tutoring of Sikarthis. She knows over a hundred and six words or slang terms for various genitalia. Backstory: Born into a small tribe of volcanic elves on one of the many slopes of the Phoenix mountains, surrounded by volcanic ash and dangerous magma flows, Tári Númenessë was born into the world ready to confuse and irritate quite a large number of people. Since the time she could walk the young elf was finding her way into places that she shouldn't be and hoarding sweets and other goodies that belonged to other children. Once she had learned to speak it was all any of the tribe's adults could do to keep her from arguing with them or tricking the other kids into relinquishing their treasures. Eventually Tári's own parents were forced to take action, secluding their troublesome child in their forge where they taught her the basics of their trade. It wasn't until the young girl had reached her tenth year of life that she was given permission to leave the forge every so often again. It was on one such occasion that Tári spotted something she had never seen before, a massive caravan line passing far below the village at the base of the mountain slope. Rather than sit around and tell an adult, Tári ran down to see what the long train of people was all about, slipping one of her parents jeweled daggers onto her person as she passed the forge just to be safe. When she reached the base of the mountain the caravan was still proceeding along with wagons, sleds and pack animals deepening the depressions in the newly stomped path left by those that came before them. Making little effort to hide herself at all Tári was surprised to find that nobody paid her much attention, exhaustion set in everyone's eyes as they trudged alongside the wagons holding their worldly belongings. For the young elf it was far too interesting to simply head back the way she had come and so she decided to tag along for a while and investigate further. Several hours (and many many miles) later she realized that she could no longer see the mountain her village was located on. As would end up being the norm for her in later years however she took it in stride, certain that she could find her way back eventually. Suffice to say she never did and it took several months, right up until the caravan reached it's destination at what would become Haderlock, for anyone to say "Wait who's kid is this?" By then however Tári had integrated herself into the daily life of the exiles, making herself useful in little ways while managing to avoid trouble (or at least managing to avoid getting caught). With nobody willing to make the journey to return the youth it was agreed that it would be best to wait until she was older and capable of undertaking such a trip by herself. As the years passed and Haderlock began to blossom it became readily apparent to many that the young elf had a knack for bartering and talking herself out of nasty situations and into sweeter ones. She found herself taken in by merchants and con-men alike, each hoping to monopolize on her promising skills only to be disappointment when she turned the tables on them, her purse heavy with coin and several new tricks up her sleeve at their expense. It wasn't long until she began to inject herself into the social lives of the upper class where she worked tirelessly to expand her list of contacts and 'friends' using whatever means were available to her. From there it was a one way track towards diplomatic work, her 'friends' pulling strings to land her a comfortable and safe job working for the kingdom by handling trade agreements. When the alliance was signed months ago with the Glacial Knights, Tári was chosen to act as acting Ambassador, a position she accepted with relish for both the increase in salary as well as the chance to expand her influence outside of Juvegol. Currently she resides in the newly constructed Haderlock embassy located in Glaces where she spends much of her time in her tightly sealed chambers in front of quite possibly the only fireplace within a hundred mild radius. Family: Tári's father and mother are likely both back at the Phoenix Mountains, extracting rare gems from the lava flows and crafting items from them as was their trade. Relationships: Sikarthis|Questionable|Useful|Tall, cold, kind of a dick. Honestly, you'd think with the way I've been handling him he'd be a bit more warm. Guess it'll take a bit more to melt that ice. Hrmmm... Weaponry: Small: A stiletto dagger forged of blackened steel and jeweled with rubies. A "gift" from her parents according to her. Abilities: Due to the treacherous nature of the Phoenix mountains Tári's people have long been sure of foot and naturally adept at moving unseen when they need to. The shadows are her friends when she has need of them, blending into the darkest corners with hardly a sound before resurfacing inside of what should have been a locked room or holding documents that were in a lockbox moments before. While she is far from combat effective she is quite skilled with holding peoples attention and interest once she has it making her fairly useful in situations that call for going mostly unnoticed. In her free time she has also continued to learn the trade of jewelry crafting, fetching a modest second income off her creations and ensuring that she'll never be short of coin should the demand remain. Weaknesses: Tári has a tendency to prefer lazing about to doing actual work and she can be difficult to motivate into doing anything for others that won't directly benefit her in some way or another. Along with that she holds grudges easily and often attempts to return any slights against her person twice over. Companion: None Other: (anything I didn’t cover in this sheet.)

[Fat Boy Kyle]

Honoria

Name: Honoria, aka ‘The Grey Lady’ (formally ‘The Wandering Lady’) Age: 491 Gender: Female Species: Shade Kingdom of Origin: Concordius Physical appearance: Honoria stands at around 5’7” and weighs about 115lbs. Her skin, as a Shade, is now a dark grey colour rather than the silvery white that she once was. Her dark smoky eyes are as alluring as they are intimidating, and it’s impossible to tell which direction she is looking in. She has some faint scaring around her body from where she was chained with Iron, a grim reminder of the pain she was put through. Her voice is deep (for a female) and somewhat majestic sounding, similar to the voice of Galadriel in the LOTR movies. She has great posture and walks with a royal grace. Attire: She is covered by root like things that are in fact a part of her body. She is able to extend these for better coverage and provide some minimal defense. Fortunately her turning did not seem to affect her control of this. Her only real clothing is a belt which she wears purely to house a money bag and her dagger. She also wears a small vial on a necklace, filled with a small few drop from Matrem’s Well. The necklace was a gift she received from a suitor when she was very young. She has contemplated getting some armour but after half a millennium of being naked, she struggles with the idea. Personality: Honoria was once a kind and gentle soul, willing to help any who came to her for aid. Since turning into a shade however, she has changed drastically. Feeling as if her entire world has been stripped from her, she is now an incredibly vengeful entity and finds herself in fits of rage from time to time. She is very slow to make friends, being distrustful of most (especially humans) but she is willing to cooperate if it means achieving her goals. She has also grown bitter and has grown jealous of others who have a close connection with nature, feeling as if her own connection has been permanently severed. She is angered by those who don’t understand nature or wish to do it harm. In fact, she seemed to be quickly angered by anyone these days but at least is able to control her emotions and vent them in creative ways. Hobbies/interests: She mostly spends her time brooding, but can occasionally make time to retrain her magical abilities or to sing. Skills: Honoria has a natural penchant for befriending and even (to a certain extent) understanding animals and creatures. This doesn’t mean to say that she can talk to them or read their minds, but can, on some strange level, empathise with what they currently feel. She is also a nice singer, as are most Dryads. Backstory: Honoria was until recently known by many as ‘The Wandering Lady’ because of the tree that she was bound to, for it was a moving tree known as ‘Young Bark’. Young Bark was a gigantic tree that, unlike other moving trees, rarely stopped. For more nearly 500 hundred years Honoria sat atop Young Bark as the colossus drifted around Concrodius, protecting it when need be. Some of the more religious people of the world, including many Fairfolk, would find and tend the tree. Others sometimes came looking for The Wandering Lady because her healing skills were extraordinary. And so it was a peaceful existence for Honoria, one that lasted almost half a millennium… but unfortunately all good things must come to an end. When the Red Legion begun attacking settlements in the Wilderness, twas not only the forces of Brighton and Pyreton that felt the Legion’s sting. There were many small scale attacks and shows of support from their agents and secret sympathisers in the south and as it was, Honoria was one of the victims. A mob of twenty human men tracked down The Wandering Lady, claiming they sought her help with their afflictions. But when Honoria left the safety of Young Bark to aid them, they brandished weapons of Cold Iron and pinned her down. She tried to fight them off but her combat magic was limited and she was easily overpowered. They wrapped her in Iron chains and made her watch as they sprung an ambush for Young Bark, who had heard her cries and rushed to her aid. It was torture in every sense for her as she watched in agony as the tree was set aflame and her natural object was destroyed. They no doubt would have killed her (and worse) were it not for arrival of Fairfolk who had seen the flames from a distance. Much to her anger, the Fairfolk managed to assure Honoria's release through intimidation rather than go to blows. Meaning that the men responsible for this defilement are still out there somewhere. In the time since then she has been staying at the Temple of Matrem. Not much time has passed and yet her personality has already changed drastically. At first she spent her time trying to reconnect with nature or find some semblance of peace or purpose, but to no avail. Her world is shattered and now all she seeks is revenge. Much to the disdain of the Fairfolk around her, she has begun to learn Dark Magic with worrying speed. Given this and the fact she is now a Shade, some have begun to refer to her as ‘The Grey Lady’, especially when telling the tale of her defilement. Family: (Optional. Talk about your character’s family. If you are a dryad, this is going to be depressing) Relationships: WIP Weaponry: Large Weapon: Staff | Medium Weapon: Magic | Small Weapon: Daggers

Honoria has a Staff named Remembrance, which was made of Young Bark’s charred remains as a gift of condolence. Though the gift giver meant well, it was not a gift she happily accepted for what should have been obvious reasons. While it is a bitter reminder of what happened, a part of her is slightly grateful to have a part of Young Bark close to her. It is a moderately powerful staff, and is especially potent at helping her channel dark magic due to the connection between them. The staff itself looks like a long charred piece of wood that has been heavily mangled at one end. Despite its appearance however, the staff’s creator took care to make it sturdier; although it would still be broken in two by most swords. Honoria also has a small decorate silver dagger that she wears on her belt. It is adorned with swirling patterns and was clearly intended to be an ornament rather than a weapon. Still, it certainly does the job when needed.

Abilities: Honoria has only recently become a shade and so is still trying to relearn magic. Rather than relearning light magic however, she appears to only be able to practice dark magic. She believes this is because her connection to nature has been lost, although some of the High Priests assure her this is not the case and that she just needs to give it time. Unfortunately for the Red Legion, she does seem to be picking up Dark Magic rather quickly, thanks to her utter lust for vengeance and her staff. Most of her abilities are courtesy of her race or use empathy on some level. Her abilities include:

• Her ability to grow roots around herself could be considered a magic ability in itself, although it is hardly a game changer (not since becoming a shade anyway). The roots do provide some very mild protection, but certainly not enough to stop a decent thrust. It does help her grip things with her hands and feet, meaning she has more balance. It is now used more for modesty's sake than anything else.
• Her singing, as a Dryad, could also be considered a magical ability as it helps nearby wildlife grow. This is nowhere near as potent as it was now that she's a shade, but she has managed to alter this ability slightly through Dark Magic: By singing with certain emotions she can conjure certain emotions in others (but they have to be fairly weak willed and even then it's only a mild effect).
• How to cast chain lightning. This requires her to conjure strong feelings of wrath and anger. This is much harder to control than the light magic counterpart, but can be more devastating. If her feelings are not strong enough then she may only generate a small shock at best. However if her feelings are too strong then she will be unable to direct the lightning or will loose control of the Dark Magic completely (until she rests).
• By remembering the torment she went through and the emotions she felt, she is able to inflict a similar pain onto others. That is to say that she is able to make them feeling as if they are wrapped in burning chains, leaving them in pain and restricting their movement. This is only possible because of the severity of the memory, and it requires a very great amount of strength and concentration to work. As such, she is only able to cast it on a single target and normally finds herself having to rest afterwards before using any more magic.
• She also has the ability to control and see through the eyes of Colubra (her companion) but this leaves her own body vulnerable. This ability is fairly easy for her to use but she has to be within a certain range to maintain this.

Weaknesses: Like all Dryads, she is vulnerable to fire and Cold Iron, and is not very physically strong. As a shade she is also not as magically powerful as she once was and is somewhat more cut off from nature. At just the sight of fire she becomes emotional, filled with feelings of both fear and utter anger. As a new practitioner of Dark Magic she can lose control of her magic and suffer some negative effects due to her temper flaring out of her control. Socially she has become an outcast at almost every turn, meaning that she cannot rely on others as well as most. Companion: Honoria has a companion named Colubra (pronounced Col-oo-bra), a massive shadow-snake that lived with her atop of Young Bark. Colubra resembles a giant anaconda and its skin is currently black with streaks of varying shades of green. She is currently around 5.5m long and is fairly thick. As a shadow-snake she gradually changes her skin colour to blend in with her surroundings. This is hardly a quick process and its effectiveness varies depending on her movement and on how much the colours in her environment are shifting. She can also only do this once per skin-shed, which in itself is a long process. She is poisonous, but only mildly so; her bites are likely to leave you feverish and weak but will only kill you when combined with other afflictions. She relies more on biting and restriction than she does poison. In terms of personality Colubra is perhaps what one would expect from a giant shadow-snake: she’s a sneaky, vicious b****. However she is extremely loyal to Honoria and will glad put herself in harm’s way to protect her. She has been trained not to attack sentient beings unless in defense or when commanded. Honoria has recently gained the ability to see through Colubra’s eyes and control her. They have to be within a certain range for this to work. Surprisingly, Colubra is either unaware of this or simply doesn’t appear to mind. Other: Oh Polaris, how I miss you so!

Kuruk

Name: Kuruk (son of Beodrum) Age: 61 Gender: Male Species: Centaur Kingdom of Origin: Nomadic Physical appearance: Kuruk stands at an impressive 7ft tall and weighs around two thousand pounds, making him a giant even amongst his kin. He is very strong and heavy set, with large defined muscles that seem ridiculously big when compared to a human or elf. His skin is very dark and is almost as dark as the jet black hair that covers most of his body. He has a strong square face with clearly chiseled features, although it’s fair to say that in this case it makes him look more brutish than handsome. He has a messy set of hair that he never allows to stretch further down than his shoulders, and which extends into an equally messy beard. His entire body is covered in scars, with many being superficial. His most prominent scars include one that stretches from his left shoulder down to his right nipple, a long bald scar on his hide that stretches down his back left outer thigh, and a scar that runs from his hairline to his eyebrow. His voice is low, loud, and coarse and has a sinister ring to it. Due to his nomadic lifestyle and his estrangement from his clan, Kuruk has no easily identifiable accent. Attire: He wears a gladiatorial style helmet made of steel, which he adorns with streaks of blood for no apparent reason. He wears chain-mail armour that drapes back to cover a fair section of his lower half, and which is supplemented by leather shoulders and arms. He would like to buy better armour, but his current armour alone cost him a bomb because it had to be specially made and tailored. He has recently had his horse shoes replaced, an event neither he nor the fitter enjoyed. He wears a large leather belt over his mail which has various sized pouches. He only carries what he needs. His helmet is based off this. And his armour of a mixture of this and this. Personality: Kuruk is a combination of some of the worst traits a person can have; he’s short tempered, arrogant, stubborn, vicious and pretty stupid for the most part. He has a raging blood-lust that might be considered psychopathic were it not for the odd bout of sympathy or lust. He has little time for loyalty, though he has the audacity to expect it from others. He has never lost his sense of entitlement and will take whatever he thinks he deserves. Overall, he’s just a nasty p**** that most should stay clear of. Two of his few redeeming features include the fact that not only does he not discriminate against any race, but he is also angered by slavery and has often worked to free slaves for cheap pay. Hobbies/interests: He lives for three things: Fighting, drinking, and having sex. The last of which is a rather nightmarish sight to behold. He has little time for anything else unless it can help him achieve the first three things. Skills: Besides being a fighter, Kuruk is a very good drinker. He is good at manual labour, but anything that requires him to rub a few brain cells together is probably going to leave him stumped. Backstory: Kuruk was the first born son of Beodrum the Brave, Alpha of the Numidian Herd. The herd was, and still is, one of the largest and most powerful centaur herds in the known lands. His father was also gifted with a titanic body but had a sharp mind to accompany it, making him a powerful entity. Kuruk was therefore brought up in his father’s shadow and was made to believe that one day he would rise to become the herd’s alpha. As a result he spent the first 25 years of his life growing into a fine warrior, though that’s about all. Even from a young age it was clear that he lacked his father’s mind and in fact was rather dim and odd. However his younger brother, Yao Guai, actually seemed to surpass their father’s intellect if anything. When Beodrum eventually passed away the herd followed Centaur custom and held a series of duals to determine who would be the next Alpha. Kuruk cleaved through the competition until he came across his final opponent. Much to his shock, his younger brother had also decided to fight for the title and clearly seemed to have the crowds favour. Kuruk thought the fight would be a breeze, but he was terribly mistaken. Not only did Yao Guai best him in speed and agility, but he had also spent years studying Kuruk and his fighting style. Kuruk wasn’t just beaten, he was humiliated. Yao Guai did not rush to beat his brother and spent time showboating to the crowd, who clearly had expected the spectacle (much to Kuruk’s confusion). When the fight eventually drew to a close Kuruk was forced to the floor and was told to grovel at the new Alpha’s feet. Yao Guai did not want to kill his brother, but he did want to make it abundantly clear who was in charge. Kuruk was too full or pride and anger though, and he would not submit. Instead he took out his brother’s legs and fled, incurring the herd’s anger. A few chased after him and one Centaur even managed to hit Kuruk with a spear, but fortunately they quickly gave up the chase having thought he would be too stupid to survive on his own. For a few years he wandered aimlessly about and only survived by robbing the odd unfortunate traveler, until he had a rather juicy bounty on his head that is. As it would turn out, one of the many people he had robbed was actually a rather wealthy nobleman and slaver, a man by the name of Vasilly. This resulted in Kuruk being captured and made a slave himself. He was taken to a mining town and was forced to do various tasks, from dragging around ores to working a horse mill. He spent nine years a slave in Shimmerock at the mercy of Vasilly and his friends. In that time he befriended both Icemen and Minotaurs, realising that at their cores these strangers were not so different. He even had his way with some of the female Minotaurs when the guards were not around. It was not long after his 38th birthday that he was pulled from his normal duties to undertake a rather unusual task. Due to an attempted escape attempt by a few icemen the previous night, Vasilly found himself with a bunch of dead horses and a wagon that was unable to pull itself. Vasilly therefore given the option of going to trade with one less wagon full of ore, or to have Kuruk pull a wagon beside his own steed. His greed quickly made up his mind for him. That said, Vasilly was not foolish and so sacrificed some of his load in order to accommodate a few extra guards. The expedition was agonisingly long and took the convoy all the way south to Olenport, the blackmarket port city of Talbor. Unfortunately for Vasilly however, he did live long enough to set his eyes upon the rich assortment of market stools or the deep blue sea. It was as they approached the city that Kuruk finally found his chance at freedom, for the convoy was forced along a rocky bank. Unwilling to live another day as a slave, Kuruk charged down the slope with Vasilly’s wagon right behind him. In a feat of utter insanity Kuruk managed to break free of the carriage by jumping over a pile of rocks which the carriage then buckled against and shattered with the speed. He was not completely uninjured, but was still together enough to recover his master and drag him into the nearby forest. A small manhunt did eventually pursue him but all they ever found were Vasilly’s various limbs scattered around. After this Kuruk fled into the south and spent the next few decades working as a mercenary, having learned from other slaves that such a business promised both blood and gold. He worked with various groups and individuals, and at one point even led his own ragtag company of Orcs, Saurians and Doraks. He eventually began to specialise in slave rescues and other messy operations. Over the last few years he has begun to venture North again, but really he just goes where the work takes him. Family: Both his parents have been dead for decades. His only other family is Yao Guai, the Alpha of the Numidian Herd, whom he hates and has not seen in more than thirty years. Relationships: WIP Weaponry: Large Weapons: Warhammer | Medium Weapon: Whip | Small Weapon: Medicine

Kuruk is rarely seen without a Warhammer in his hand. He currently uses a heavy steel mace that would be too heavy for most to use. In fact the smith that made the weapon forged it to be a showpiece, thus the neat engravings of chains and skulls. Due to its weight it is not the easiest thing to handle, but in Kuruk’s strong hands can be swung with devastating force, made worse by the spikes that adorn it. Even if someone was to get caught with the staff part of it they would suffer severely. He tends to use both his hands when using it, but can alternate between either of his hands for a weaker one handed swing. It looks a lot like this but bigger and thicker. Kuruk also carries with him his former master’s whip. A nasty little thing with multiple metal tipped lashes. He rarely uses it in battle, and instead saves it for whenever he gets the opportunity to go head to head with a slaver. He keeps this on his belt. Lastly, Kuruk is currently carrying 3 small vials of ‘Stone Blood’ and 2 bottles of weak health poultice. Stone Blood grants its consumer a much higher pain threshold, but arguably to a risky extent. It should be noted that whilst the consumer may feelless pain, the amount of damage they take is no different. The Health Poultices (which are called something stupid too) are applied to wounds to relieve inflammation, prevent infection, and aid in the healing process.

Abilities: Kuruk relies purely on sheer strength and power, and to be fair, it has served him fairly well the majority of the time. Whilst he might not be as fast or agile as other centaurs due to his bulkiness, he makes up for it in endurance. He is good at leading a charge due to his confidence and presence, but to call him a good leader in general would mean that you have failed to see his stupidity and rashness. Weaknesses: Like all centaurs, Kuruk is weak to cold iron and his legs provide four easy weak points. Due to his bulkiness he finds it particularly hard to protect his back end, and so you are likely to see him spinning about wildly during battle in a dizzy attempt to combat this. He is easily outsmarted, but one should be cautious when trying to take advantage of him. He really is the perfect archetype of a dim-witted brute. Companion: Though not really a companion per se, there is currently a chocolate flavoured coloured wing lemur stalking him. It is a small thing that looks like an earth lemur but with larger ears, larger eyes and has furry parachute like wings beneath its arms. It has a habit of randomly appearing to steal Kuruks food just as he’s about to eat it. It also appears to be relatively clever, having learned to sit on a particular spot on Kuruks hide which he can never reach (with angers him to no end). Kuruk has not named the fiend and will often go berserk in an attempt to catch and crush it. Other: P-P-P-Polaris! Don’t you dare go changin’! I know you want me! Ooooohhhh ohhh oh oh ooooo!

[The_written_John]

Bartleby Sterling

Gender: Male Species: Human Kingdom of Origin: Talbor Physical appearance: Bartleby is a 6 foot 1 tall male with Caucasian white skin, green eyes with dark bags under his eyes, ginger swept back hair and a soul patch beard. He supports a skinny, non athletic build and is missing a single front tooth. He has a high pitched and generally whiny tone of voice, (something along the lines of Yuri Lowenthal), and walks very carefree, with a spring in his step. Attire: Bartleby wears a set of jet black nobleman shoes, and a set of black scale skin leggings wrapped with jet black belts. (All the cool kids are doing it, in Bartleby's defense). Supporting a white frilled shirt, a blue and gold trimmed noblemans vest and a golden cravat and a jet black cloak. To top it all off, he wears an eccentric jet black musketeer styled hat, with a blue feather lodged at the side. Personality: Bartleby is a very selfish and greedy individual, but isn't evil. He'll take whatever he can find and get, having a problem due to being a klepto. He finds himself always attempting to get the best offer out of a situation and will do what is necessary to save himself. Which usually involves running away. He is a coward and a liar, and will always try and bluff himself out of a situation. Bartleby is also a freeloader and a moocher but he generally desires the destruction of the red legion... He'll just try and offer... mortal support... if he can't help it! He can be kind, thoughtful and understanding, but when it comes to survival, he will either run off or demand safety. Hobbies/interests: Bartleby finds enjoyment in drinking, reading and enjoys "collecting" things from everywhere he goes, always having some sort of new item after each place he visits, he likes to call it a hobby. He also enjoys brothels, silence and not being bothered. He also enjoys getting free stuff! Skills: Bartleby's main skills lie in his non combat standpoint. He is great at lying and playing the poker faced expression, giving him excellent negotiating skills, being able to bribe or weasel his way into many establishments. Bartleby also has the ability to forge new identities and can help hide his allies whereabouts with false Intel, giving them a good amount of time to escape from a bad situation if it comes to it. With being a cheating, lying and selfish prat, he also has the ability to lie straight through his teeth with "charm", allowing him to persuade others for information and get Intel for the group that others might not be able to get. Backstory: Bartleby, who had no name at the time, but would later on gain one grew up like many humans within Talbor, as a child he was adopted and raised by a merchant family, though the memories were vague, the only way to describe it was that Bartleby was chosen to be raised merely to help whatever business his adopted parents owned, to help their little scheme flourish therefore as a young boy, Bartleby was raised to be a liar, to cheat and to steal, to use others for personal gain and to never betray his parents. As a child all this information was confusing for the young boy, as he was privately tutored by an arrogant and rough teacher, never even getting to know other children, he was forcibly and abusively banned from interacting with anyone his young age, and grew up in an isolated environment where only his parents could "teach" him about what mattered. Growing up to learn history, merchandising skills, thievery and much more, along the lines of language and culture, but only to exploit, they had a child they could raise as their own little money maker, and had it not been for their "accidental" deaths, it would have continued that way. Fortunately however, when you become too much of an ass in life, life does you straight in it, and that happened smoothly by the time of Bartleby's eleventh birthday. Simply doing his parents chores and being taught the values of "merchandising", a group of armed men broke into the home and slew both his adoptive mother and father, causing the young child to fail to process what just happened, he never had any love for them, as they showed no love back, but the incident left him almost scarred, when the armed men approached him, it had come to his attention that his parents were in fact scum, nothing but dirty thieves and con artists who seeked to con every single individual out of their gold, and was a potential" threat". With nobody else to take care of him, the armed man agree'd to bring him to a much more "profitable business" And that's how Bartleby was first introduced to the life of the stereotypical criminal underground. Raised by his new father, named Daniels, a short, black haired tanned male with a talent for crossbows, he acted more like a father than his older parents ever could. Raising him in the criminal underground, and with his thievery and merchandising skills, his new father Daniels raised him on how to lie properly, and taught him the use of his weapon, however Bartleby wasn't a very brave child, and always simply put on a brave face to fool the people around him, skipping any boring and trivial details, Bartleby continued how to use a crossbow, was taught how to lie and cheat and got taught how to trade much more effectively, and with his effort and his adopted father, the two were able to make quite a small fortune in the black market and with their thievery, selling and conning, the two were impressive at their jobs, and ran this for 9 years until Bartleby was twenty years old... and able to outsmart his own father... and meet an individual which would stay in his life for better or more realistically for worse for the rest of his life. Shortly after the black market business had flourished, and after 9 long years, Bartleby became over such a long time very skilled with using the crossbow and a skillful negotiator, and with these skills and a business partner none the wiser, along with bartleby's own kleptomaniac tendencies which grew over the course of his life of crime, in one single day, and with his adoptive fathers back turned, he killed him... If he was brave and cruel enough, no instead he simple snagged a key to the groups savings and bolted as fast as his legs out carry him with the mass of funds, however it didn't take long for the black market to catch onto his scheme, as he fled with thick bags of gold and hot stolen items all within a giant rucksack, he barely escaped with his life, used his skills to acquire himself with the gold he bought a new outfit, to mask his old appearance and get himself under a new name, or alias. His original name is unknown, and is known only as Bartleby Sterling, the original name given to him is not even known to himself, having never had a name giving to him by either his newer father of his adoptive parents back when he was a child. Hidden away within an abandoned basement at a corner street within Talbor, Bartleby investigated the contents of the stolen goods and money, enough money to keep him fed for years and within the stolen rucksack of valuables were gems, hot stolen gems fresh for selling and another items curiously popped itself out of the bag... a small, chubby looking Siamese kitten poked its little head out and stared cutely at Bartleby, the conman and merchant coward not knowing just how much agony the cat would bring to him, Bartleby decided to take the cat in, and raise it himself as the two quickly and using bartleby's talents, sold the hot merchandise for a thick profit before fleeing and escaping the criminal clutches of the underground, deciding to use his fine money to start a new life. Now at age 23, Bartleby has been able to quickly amass his wealth, shown through his very eccentric and interesting attire to look as flashy as possible along with his fat, round cat sucking up every gold piece he had at the same time, now he is starting to feel the pressure of his fortune draining no help to his cat, his conning, thievery and merchant skills having only gotten him so far, if he didn't try and get better merchandise, he was going to start losing money and eventually go poor. Bartleby decided. "The red legion... such powerful weapons... If perchance I was able to steal some of that technology and pretend I was on a major quest to save everyone... I could probably get my riches back again.!" And with this foolish plan, Bartleby would find himself going up against forces which were vastly superior in skill to him, in a mission he would refer to as his greatest and most biggest cock up. Family: N/A Relationships: No relationships yet. Weaponry: Two handed crossbow: Beatrix with 30 bolts in a boxed quiver just above his rear, hidden under his cloak. (more bombs but takes up an extra slot) two slots: Magical explosives: 20 in a bagged pouch at the side of his hip, hidden under his cloak. Medicine: Potions, healing ones, hidden under his cloak, it contains 3 healing potions and a poison cure. Abilities: Crossbow training: Despite being overly pathetic in almost all areas, Bartleby finds himself safest when he is as far away from his opponent as possible... Which is why as a child he got trained how to use a crossbow! And he loves his Big Beatrix! However this is probably one of his only known skills, his expert ability with crossbows gives him a great perceptive insight on how to fire upon an enemy with it, and with this skill he is able to execute his foes from a huge distance. Explosives: Make things explode and then RUN. How does Bartleby handle himself if he's out of crossbow bolts and an angry red legion man is coming at him with murder in his eyes... Aside from urinating himself, Bartleby has the ability to use elemental explosives, thanks to his connections and secret buyers, he has amassed and is skilled in using these bombs to his advantage. Running away: Ah yes, one of his many great and ferocious talents is that he can run away like a sissy girl at a speed of something pretty fast if it was getting chased by a lion. Using his ability to be unpredictable, one of his many fine traits is creating a distraction big enough to let himself escape the area in the hopes of being able to out maneuver and escape his foes so he may live to fight another day.

Hider

Bartleby: SMOKE BOMB! -runs away like a little girl at the speed of a deer-

Weaknesses: race: below-average agility, less harmony with nature, short lifespans Personal: Weak defense, no ability to use magic, cowardly nature makes him run away if he can, at every opportunity he can get. Companion: Oh Bartleby has a beast of burden... in the shape of a roly poly shaped obese Siamese cat called Shin... This beast of burden can be summerised as a food engulfing black hole, and it nags people just as much as Bartleby does, a major bothering bother which bothers our bothersome Bartleby until it can't be bothered to bother anymore! A cat who's main desire is eating, and sleeping, and meowing, and repeating... Though it does make for some good laughs when it annoys Bartleby to the point of frustration, it is his only true friend though, and he loves shin dearly, and hates the every lasting guts out of the monstrous fatass at the same time... But what can ya' do? Other: GET THE POLARIS OUT OF MY EYES...!

[sibelius]

Apologies - wrong section. Looking how to delete

[Nib]

Heoron

Name: Heoron Age: 22 Gender: Male Species: Ogre Kingdom of Origin: Concordius Physical appearance: Heoron is on the short side for his race, standing just under six feet with a lanky yet trim and toned frame thanks to his orc lineage. His skin is a slightly darker grey-blue color than what is average for his race. His sharp eyes stand out from his skin, blazing as a yellow-orange color under his thin, arched eyebrows. Pointed ears, the left one being adorned with a small hoop-shaped brass earring halfway up the ear, inherited from his father can be seen poking through his silver-colored hair that hangs down to barely brush the tops of his shoulders, and he will at times tie it back in a horsetail or braid it to make it more manageable. Heoron has very pointed and angular features with high cheekbones and a long, pointed chin due to his father’s elven features being more dominant than his mother’s, though some of her orcish traits can be seen in her son, one such being the slightly elongated lower canine teeth. Attire: Heoron wears a light-colored linen shirt with long sleeves with a small v-neck opening held together with leather strings laced through small holes on either side of the opening, dark trousers with a few patches sewn on here and there, and tall boots stretching halfway up his shins. Over his clothes, Heoron wears thick robes made of a soft material dyed a faded black with a dark yellow trim; the neck of the robes can be pulled up to cover the lower half of his face. His cloak is dyed the same color as his robes with the same trim around the hood with a brass button to keep the cloak on.

Visual Aid

Personality: On the surface, Heoron appears to be a calm and almost unemotional man. If one could see the inner workings of his mine, however, they would know his mind is a constant buzz, keeping his emotions in check so he can better call upon these emotions at a later time to utilize his magic more effectively. Because of this, Heoron also seems cold and distant to anyone around him. The ability to keep his emotions in check makes him an even-tempered person, leading to him being a calm and collected individual in most situations. Of course, this does not completely excuse him from the pull of emotions at times; it only means he is much better at controlling his emotions than most people. Hobbies/interests: Heoron’s main hobby is reading the journal left behind by his surrogate father and any other book he can get ahold of. He also spends his time studying the history of the different kingdoms and attempting to track down any information he can about his parents. Skills: Heoron has become skilled in Dark Magic, focusing more on the illusion aspects. Because of his magical abilities, Heoron is able to keep his emotions in check most of the time, separate and identify them and then draw upon them at a later date to power his magic, and in turn because of his ability to keep his emotions in check Heoron is able to remain calm in most situations others would panic during and think his way out if possible. He is also light footed and can walk with little to no noise, using his magic to mask his presence and blend into the shadows in combination with this skill in order to sneak his way through the world. Years of study have made Heoron into a knowledgeable historian and an expert on what is known about Cyclops culture and history. The obsession with his parents and hunting any lead he could find about them has made Heoron into a formidable tracker and detective of sorts; he is able to gather quite a bit of clues on someone and then track them down quickly based on what he gathers about them. Backstory: Heoron was born to a male elf named Artuous and a female orc named Gretsia, but Heoron remembers nothing about them as they died when he was barely two years old. When they died, Heoron was taken in by a human named Wilem; he raised Heoron as best as he could. When Heoron was seven, Wilem began teaching him Dark Magic. Wilem lived in a small cabin in the forest and chose to train his adopted son here to prevent him from causing any damage to others or the nearby village since he could not yet control his magic with his emotions being so erratic as such a young age. In the forests of his homeland, Heoron once came across the Will-o-Wisps one night. Being a child of barely eight, Heoron ran at the glowing orbs of blue fire, sending most of the orbs scattering into the night, but there was one that did not scatter at the sight of the boy. The Will-o-Wisp was strange, it spoke to the child and had a name. This strangeness in the magical being led to the two becoming friends and companions. Because he did not have a strong hold of his emotions at first, Heoron came very near to dying and losing his magic permanently when he lost control in a fit of rage, injuring Wilem in the process. This episode happened when he was ten, and after it occurred Heoron refused to use magic after he saw what he had done to Wilem when he lost control. The two were training on a cliffside, Wilem thinking the sight and sound of the ocean would keep the boy calm, but for some reason the child couldn’t shake the thought of his parents that day and flew into a fit of rage and sorrow at their passing, sending a violent torrent of energy all around, burning Wilem badly enough to scar and wound but not fatally. After a year of coaxing after the accident, Wilem finally convinced Heoron to take up learning magic again. The child, now age eleven, took to learning how to master his emotions with a new zeal, pouring over texts and hanging on to Wilem’s every word. Heoron trained under his surrogate father for ten more years after he began anew. In learning Dark Magic, Heoron was first taught how to control and identify his emotions to control his magic and then he began learning how to turn his emotions into magical energy. Throughout these years of training, Wilem also taught Heoron how to fight with a dirk. All the while through his training, Heoron couldn’t shake the nagging feeling at the back of his head to learn more about his parents, so Wilem promised to help Heoron track down any information he could on his parents. After his training was complete, Heoron stayed with Wilem for a year until his adoptive father died of disease, which had been worsening steadily throughout Heoron’s training. In his death, Wilem left Heoron his journal with a list of names and few details on his parents. With his newly gained knowledge on his parents, Heoron has recently set out, now twenty-two to find the other members in the group of treasure hunters they belonged to. Family:

• Wilem is the human who took Heoron in when his parents died.
• Artuous is Heoron’s elven father.
• Gretsia is Heoron’s orcish mother.

Relationships: |Name of person|one-word general impression | relationship to said person |Thoughts on the character| Weaponry:

• Staff: Heoron uses his wooden staff to channel his magic. The staff itself comes to Heron’s shoulder and is made of an old dark wood. The staff looks as though it is made of multiple thick branches twisting around one another, ending with the top sloping up in two places like small wooden waves; this opening is usually occupied by Ithenul, making the staff look like it has a blue orb floating between the two small wooden slopes.
• Magic: Heoron is a practiced user of Dark Magic, focusing more on the illusionary skills within this field of magic.
• Dirk: Heoron keeps a dirk with a blade measuring one and a half feet strapped to his waist.
• Dagger: Heoron also carries a silver dagger hidden away in a sheath built into the back of his left boot.

Abilities: In a fight, Heoron is most skilled in close quarters combat, using his illusion magic to distract and confuse his enemies and then closing in to dispatch them. He is also skilled in the other aspects of Dark Magic. Despite his race’s natural slowness Heoron is able to dodge around and parry enemy blows, the former aided from his illusion magic. His main advantage comes from ambush attacks, using his magic to hide his presence and then getting the drop on his enemies. Weaknesses: Heoron’s poor eyesight prevents him from engaging in any long range combat and forces him to get close to his enemies in a fight. In a straight fight, Heoron, while not completely useless, will not last too long before he needs to flee. Of course being slow hinders his escape skills. Without his staff and his magical capabilities, Heoron is significantly hindered in his combat abilities, being much slower in blocking and parrying. Companion: Heoron’s sole companion is his familiar, a Will-o-Wisp called Ithenul. He also owns a dark chestnut-colored horse, but he does not count it as a companion since he cannot have conversations with the animal. Other: Polaris

[Jonnyh447]

Tobias Fischer

Name: Tobias Fischer Age: 41 Gender: Male Species: Orc Kingdom of origin: Jikari Physical Appearance: Standing above the rest at 6'8 people began confusing Tobias for his father from an early age, Lukas Fischer already stood a head taller than the other orcs that lived in Blackstone bay and his son was quickly catching up. For the past year it's become a necessity for Tobias to duck when entering the houses that littered the bayfront, Tobias couldn't complain though - his long arms and slim body meant he could climb the masts faster than anyone else; even the stronger, bulkier, older boys that would loiter around the harbour couldn't beat Toby to the top - not even if they wagered a few copper coins on it. A fishing accident had left a deep scar running from the bottom of his left ear to the left side of his mouth, he has dark, piercing blue eyes and a jaunt face with defined features. His hair is silky black with dark brown streaks in colour, he leaves it grow wildly only occasionally styling it for special occasions. Despite being taller than most orcs Tobias would regularly lose battles of pure strength, arm wrestling and barrel throwing was to be avoided against the muscle-bound, bruiser types that roam the bay however years of hard work on the boats have given Tobias a lean, toned physique with decent enough power and body strength to prove troublesome to the pirate raiders that whilst infrequently encountered, are quick to shed the blood of any race if it meant a shiny prize or a purse full of coins. Attire: Tobias usually wears loose, linen shirts of the varying dull colours that are accessible at Blackstone beneath the thin, boar-hide, tribal jacket/waistcoat that keeps him safe during skirmishes with the raiders. He also wears puffy pants that are taped tightly around the ankle so that the bottoms fold to hang over the tough, grippy boots that Tobias preferred to wear around the ship. Tobias rarely felt the need to change clothes often wearing the same garments for weeks at a time, jumping in the sea seemed to stop them from smelling like anything other than sea-salt and Tobias loves that smell. Personality: Tobias is very curious of the world around him, he knows that a huge world exists but has never really left Blackstone bay to explore it. However he often dreams and speaks of adventuring one day, but moans that their isn't an easy enough reason to just up and leave. He's often opinionated but ultimately wishes to prove that there's more to orcs than meets the eye with his caring, loyal and compassionate nature. He's keen to learn and despite being rather intelligent acknowledges that he's got a lot to learn before he becomes the Orc he aspires to be. He will avoid confrontation when he can but ain't afraid to come out swinging once he's backed into a corner. Hobbies/interests: Fishing, gambling around the dock and searching the seabed for valuables. Skills: Tobias was taught to fish by his father: Lukas, who is widely regarded as one of the most skilled in his profession, tales are told around the bay how he took a group of fishermen out to sea on the darkest, coldest night of winter when the food had run scarce and the people were starving, they thought him dead but three days later the veteran returned with plentiful enough fish to last the next two winters. Tobias has also developed a good idea of game theory and if there's a clever bet to be made he'll be the first one to make it. Tobias has a basic understanding of alchemy that he learned from an old, tatty diary written by his mother, he treasures the diary more than anything else in the world and a lot of the pages he can not understand. Backstory: Born in the mostly quiet fishing village of Blackstone bay Tobias Fischer was far away from the complexities and worries that a lot of people in Tithe face. That's not to say life was easy for Tobias, he only knew his mother until the age of sixteen when she was taken by a rival tribe (not sure how much backstory you wanted to do on the orcs but I recall you said there were different tribes, also she was a shamanistic, witch-doctor killed in a brutal fashion but Tobias' father has made it his mission to ensure Tobias never finds out), Lukas was far away in Haderlock at the time collecting bounties placed on a few of the pesky rebel groups that would consistently wreak havoc in the region and couldn't do anything to stop what happened. Luckily on the night of the raid young Toby was whisked away quickly from the madness that ensued by a family friend who in turn handed him over to the Lukkleberg family who generously looked after him until Lukas returned. Tobias never saw the man who saved him again after that. Tobias worked on his father's fishing boat and made good friends with a lot of the older orcs who made it a habit of calling him 'Long Toby'. One of them, Klaus Skuller, greatly admired Toby from a young age and ensured that he had a sea-worthy vessel of his own for his thirtieth birthday. Tobias decided to call his boat 'Lucky Peace' - he couldn't decide whether he wanted to wish for luck or peace and eventually just stuck the two together, happy with his result. Tobias would work hard selling what he could to pay back the debt for the boat, Klaus politely declined the return payments but Tobias kept a lockbox beneath his bed which was slowly filling enough to afford the boat's materials. In Lucky Peace Tobias would work for just over ten years; three years along the coast where the water was easy to traverse, and the rest in the harsher, deeper seas wherein exotic catches could fetch months of wage for the crew, yet wherever Lucky Peace went the crew would work hard to keep up with the more experienced fishermen and their oft larger, better equipped rigs. It's only been for the past few years though that Tobias has consistently larger yields than the rest but watching the hundreds of fish pour onto the deck was beginning to take it's toll and the days where he'd intensely scan how many fish were caught were replaced with days of gazing into the sunset or the mountains up north. Gargoyles lived in those mountains and Tobias had never even seen one... Family: Lukas Fischer - proud father who wants his son to have the adventure filled life that he lead, dealt with his wife's death by putting a lot of time and effort into bringing up Tobias. Miri Fischer - mother who was killed when Tobias was young, locally held in very high regard. People often tell Tobias that he has his mother's eyes. Relationships: Klaus Skuller | Boisterous | Family friend (uncle figure) : 'Long Toby? Aye the kid's a good laugh he'll grow to be a great Orc like his father, lord knows he's big enough.' Adran Lukkleberg | Hard-working, Shy | Best friend : 'He showed me kindness when I felt worthless, the guy gave me a job and introduced me to Starla, I'd do a lot for him, I know I would; I owe it to him' Weapons: Tobias usually fights with a basic bone scimitar although has begun to practise using a two-bladed elven sword he found whilst scavenging the sea bed. (Unless he meets someone proficient with the weapon he'll use an improvised orcish fighting style with an elven blade. I want him to be an awkward enemy as opposed to an overly strong or magically gifted enemy.) He also is proficient at using a bone, bladed boomerang after years of launching it out over the waves only to have to swim out and retrieve it. Skills: Tobias is sure-footed and has incredible balancing and acrobatic ability for his size. He is capable of crafting basic potions mainly specialising those that harbour resistance and healing powers (superficial wounds, sea-sickness remedies, lesser poison resistance potions... Basically nothing too powerful I just want him to inherit that small amount of raw magical ability demonstrated by his mother). He's also incredibly quick to learn and his fascination of the unexplained and eagerness to explore has earned him a reputation of being a fearless (sometimes even reckless) young orc that would excel in a naval combat scenario. Weaknesses: Despite being tall and fit Tobias isn't as strong as you'd expect for an orc (I want to balance out his swiftness and range with the lack of brute strength an ordinary orc might possess, so he's still stronger than the average human but can't perform great feats of strength). He's also very naive and is too quick to see the kindness in people, he has good principles and values and expects others to behave and think in a similar way. He's quick to learn but avoids battles of wits with the more educated citizens of the bay and the politicians - as his father once said 'if the Fischer's were as good at words as we are at fishing the world would be a nicer place'. Other: wonga radium Polaris.

Adelaide

Name:Adelaide del Monte Age:29 Gender: Female Species: Mountain Elf Kingdom of origin: Southern Nepharie Physical Appearance: Adelaide's the first to acknowledge that she'll be the last of Senator del Monte's brood to marry. An older sister with mother's hazel eyes; Asta had legs that never seem to end, full lips that would demand the gaze of even the meekest of men and beautiful, flowing blonde hair. Then there's Ciara, two years younger and ten years shorter but with the bust of someone twice her age! Adelaide never could figure out how such a thin waist could support knockers that size and for every gaze that Asta's lips caught you could guarantee Ciara would get ten more. A cute, rounded little nose rested between the most beaming smile and a set of bright, inviting blue eyes that were always wide open and gave Ciara a look of unparalleled innocence. Then there was Adelaide... Adelaide; awkwardly in the middle. Not the tallest and not the shortest she seemed to be the only one of the three del Monte girl's to inherit more of her father's ordinary genes. Dark, solid brown eyes and a rounded, plain face with the exception of a few unevenly dispersed freckles. Adelaide thought she looked more like Ciara than Asta but never seemed to get the same attention as her younger sibling. Maybe it was because where Ciara's mass was in all the right places Adelaide's was in all the worst - a thick neck, burly shoulders and wide hips spawning large thighs and equally as impressive calves often left Adelaide feeling grateful for at least being thin at the waist and even then if she'd sit around for a week even that hourglass figure (or so she consoled herself) would begin to fade. Adelaide was never as keen to spend hours getting her hair cut and styled as her sisters and often just let her hair grow and grow regularly finding new ways to fashion the chestnut brown locks into something grandiose and feminine. Attire: When going to important events and gatherings Adelaide wears a varying assortment of dresses and gowns in a multitude of colours. For even though she resents having her hair done and beauty therapy she must confess that she enjoys getting all dressed up and putting on some jewels for the right occasion. Adelaide isn't too afraid of showing a little skin either - when she's out running errands around the mountains she trades a rather sensible, formal style for that of a flamboyant, very informal style that displays a wild side neither of her sisters possess. A beautiful, flowing one-piece swapped out for a leopard-skin skirt with the sides torn for mobility, her top half is always well protected with a well-fitted, dragon hide cuirass, dark maroon in colour and interwoven with tanned, tough leather of a lightly tanned colour. The cuirass was a gift from a wealthy politician over in the tropics, Adelaide's father told her that the man expressed a desire to marry her even though they've never met and promptly gave the man her measurements, after-all dragon hide was hard to acquire and Pierro del Monte never looked a gift horse in the mouth. The guy even refuses to leave his name on the gifts he sends, which Adelaide could never figure out - after all, she couldn't fall in love with a question mark. Adelaide also wears various fur-lined vambraces, boots and gloves depending on what she feels like on the day. Personality: Adelaide's very grounded considering she's always had anything she's ever wanted on a silver spoon. She enjoys adventure and jumps at the chance to run errands for her father, whom she idolises, despite him oft being reluctant to let her go - truth be told these are the only times she doesn't have to act like a proper lady. Her down-to-earth attitude, unlimited patience and a willingness to learn has lead to her being well liked and respected amongst peers and teachers alike. That's not to say, however, that she's academically gifted (that was always Asta's forte), in fact she never could understand words, numbers or magic very well. While other students would excel at performing fabulous examples of magic Adelaide would protest that if she wanted to make the rocks fly she'd pick 'em up and throw 'em. Even though Adelaide was hopeless at performing magic growing up, like most elves she's fascinated with nature and always takes the time to respect and care for whatever environment she finds herself in. Growing up with two sisters Adelaide can sometimes have a sharp tongue and doesn't fully understand the possible consequences of nattering about lords and ladies, kings and queens or anything else she finds remotely interesting to talk about. She doesn't like to be alone and regularly looks for reasons to be around people. Despite not being noticeably good at anything Adelaide feels as though she was meant for something bigger than just an ordinary life living in the mountains, marrying a senator and then playing happy for the world to see. Hobbies/interests: Adelaide enjoys nothing more than being out in nature and for each thing she didn't know about magic she could teach you two about her environment - mainly the mountains. When the giant ramp Castle Alma is sealed tight it can begin to feel like a cold, lonely place (especially since Ciara's been spending all of her time studying at Stormfront, just like Asta did and Adelaide rarely sees her older sister anymore). When Adelaide feels sad she enjoys finding old books in the library and reading through them - even though the books could sometimes be confusing to her they were always sure to have illustrious and grand pictures; of animals, beasts, trees, the world. Adelaide remembers the ramp being up for two whole months one time during a particularly fierce sandstorm, she got a lot of reading done in that time and when the storm eased up she could be free once again. Free meant being outside - running and climbing across the mountains, slipping down the mudslides, swinging and leaping across crevices. Outside is the only time Adelaide ever truly feels herself and she's always ecstatically excited when she knows she gets to go out next. She enjoys tending to animals of any sort and tries her best to keep all the plants in her garden in tip-top condition (yes, father gave his daughter a garden). Skills: Years of climbing around the mountains has lead to Adelaide being very fit and quite agile considering her almost frumpy frame (kinda like that sexy bitch from the croods). Adelaide's best talent appears to be keeping the animals happy - Volak refuses to get fed by anyone other than her and Pierro. During her "studying" at the Grand Tower Adelaide was toughened up a little bit and even got around to trying her hand at combat with some of the younger boys, needless to say she wasn't very good at it. She never completed her time there and eventually went back to the comfort of castle Alma complaining that she didn't feel ready to go out into the world on her own. Her intelligence seems to be at a slightly below average. Backstory: Adelaide grew up behind the great stone walls of Castel Alma, a cliff dwelling thats walls were human-built using thousands of hardy, orange rocks that were gathered from miles around. The structure lay discretely on the landscape and was almost invisible to the eye during even the lightest of sandstorms, unless the humongous flat stone that passed as a ramp was lowered but the only entrance to the castle was ALWAYS closed in a storm. The castle is between the centre of Southern Nepharie and the bay of clams, rumour has it that it was the del Monte's ancestors that were responsible for exotic goods of lobster, spices, oysters and mostly; pineapples, flooding into the more populated regions of Tithe and considering the vast wealth of the family lots say that the islanders were exploited by the Del Monte's but that was then and this is now and Pierro's accepted by the local communities of both Nepharie and the Tropics. Adelaide didn't get accepted to study at Isaiah Stormfront's castle like her sisters, and she was sure Ciara only got invited because Isaiah took a personal liking to Asta, instead she spent a few years trying her hardest to do magic but after a few years found that nobody there understood her and promptly returned home. Other than that the biggest adventure she's been on is a trip to the tropics when she was much younger and even that, one of the few memories she has of her family being together as five, was beginning to fade. For Adelaide the story begins here... Family: Father: Senator Pierro del Monte - Ruler of Castle Alma and Ambassador of peoples within and around its walls - Nothing about Pierro would strike out as making him different from any other senator: Ambitious, proud and servile are just a few words that have been thrown around the courtroom when describing him. Constantly striving to increase his position in the empire he doesn't spend much time with his family, though when he does he appears to be a kind and caring man. Pierro is also capable of taming wild creatures and has an unmatched affinity for the mountains, through his year's he's attempted to tame many beasts with various success - the two that stuck around are 'Volak'; a mangy looking giant vulture with a bad attitude if left unchecked and 'Archibald'; an overweight desert pig (I was thinking desert pigs could be like boars but without the tusks if that could be a thing) who has a young and vigorous spirit despite his weight problem. Mother: Sibelle del Monte - Adelaide's mother is also ambitious, although unlike the rather indecisive, sometimes rash, sometimes collected attitude displayed by her father Sibelle is always politically calculating, perceptive and insightful. She loves her husband and children and would do anything to protect them. She used to be a powerful Mage but vowed never to do magic again after an accident she chooses not to speak of, truth be told she knows that she's lost a lot of her mojo. She doesn't feel it necessary to spend time relearning what she once knew now that she's happy with where her life is. Older Sister: Asta del Monte - A powerful Mage who has decided to continue learning from old books in the academy of Ostracus after completing her studies at Stormfront castle. She specialises in air magic and is particularly interested in spells of concealment using a combination of mists and smokes. Younger sister: Ciara del Monte - A promising Mage who is still midway through her studies at Stormfront. She is bubbly, playful, flirty and fascinated with earth magic. Relationships: Same as above. Adelaide is Father's favorite, Mother's least favorite (putting it bluntly) and gets along equally as well with both of her sisters although she's spent more time growing up with Ciara (who's 2 years younger) than Asta (about 30 years older). Weapons: being rich? Skills: If you haven't put the dots together yet you're not too far away from Adelaide's mindset... With her mother's renown raw magical talent that we know has passed to Adelaide's sisters and her father's fondness of all things living, particularly animals, she has the POTENTIAL to be quite a powerful beast tamer. Quite powerful indeed. Weaknesses: Hates to be alone, clueless about a lot of things, happy-go-lucky attitude that sometimes leads to her not trying too hard to obtain things that she's perfectly capable of, early signs of attention deficit disorder, next to no technical combat ability, sometimes irritating, doesn't compare herself to her sisters maybe as much as she should (especially if you ask her mother). Companion:yet to come? Other: Polaris rectum.

[SirBeowulf]

Beo's Sheety Sheet of Sheetiness - Tanzanno

Name: Sir Tanzanno Fernando. Age: Getting up in his thirties, probably around thirty-seven. Gender: The one with a big donk. Species: Just a boring Human. Kingdom of Origin: Nepharie, somewhere to the south. Physical appearance: Tanzanno, or Tanz for short, is only just starting to get old. Of course, he's still in his prime, but he's been on the downswing for a while now. His short, angled hair is starting to get a few grayer bits, even more every day. Tanz' eyes and face are starting to show signs of crow's feet and the hollowing of his cheeks. Still, at five foot nine, he certainly has a bit of height over the average man. Don't think you can get the upper hand over him since he's getting old, he'll show any recruit he can still get them behind the ear with one hand behind his back. The many old scars and remnants of wounds certainly can attest to that.

Tanzanno

Attire: While most knights would prefer to charge into battle wielding full plate armor and hefting swords taller than them, Tanz would do otherwise. He prefers to run in wearing light chainmail, small iron plating, and generally a good chest plate. These combinations allow for Tanz to gracefully dodge and weave while fighting at the sake of less protection. Not like he needs it, anyways. Other than that, he prefers to wear a mix of light cloth and linen to stave off the heat of summers in southern Nepharie. You probably won't ever see him without his two weapons clipped to his belt. Personality: Most people would call Tanzanno a cryptic bastard when they first meet him. And they're right, he is a cryptic bastard, preferring to speak in rhymes and riddles and metaphors when teaching his students in the ways of swordplay. If you can make it past the first week, he's a pretty nice person. From the lowest recruit to the stubborn nobleman's son, he'll find a way to help them. Years of teaching have instilled a personal sense of responsibility that he takes up on most people he meet. Most of the flair and grace he had during his younger days are gone, replaced by a calm and cool personality. Swordplay is his passion, though, and he is usually automatically interested in anything related to it. That doesn't mean he's a sword freak, he loves politics. Debate and discussion with nobles often fills his schedule. Hobbies/interests: From swordplay to debate, to even an unhealthy interest in flowers, Tanzanno enjoys lots of things in the coastal hub of Port Orarius. Wines and exotic fruits grown nearby are his favorite things to eat. Skills: While his career is teaching the art of swordplay, Tanzanno has learned many things along the way. How to deal with nobles for example. There is a certain precise method you have to uphold around their kind, and he's become an expert at it. Debate and discussion is probably second on the list, with many a council influenced by his tacit smooth tongue. Other than that, Tanz has become an addict to the growth of horticulture. For someone first visiting his home, you would be extremely surprised at how he rivals that of a Dryad with his growing. Backstory: The Fernando family is popularly known throughout most of southern Nepharie. The common folk dream big when hearing of the family's down to earth roots and their rise, the barons and princes from over the land flock to get a chance to be taught by a Fernando. The Fernando family started off simple. Three or four centuries ago, a fairly large family of grape growers had all of their men were drafted off and sent to fight for Nepharie. While most would expect the men to return in a state of dread with many killed and wounded, the Fernando men proved them wrong. Bravery in the heart of battle and a bond grown while scraping the earth, the men stuck together. While some did indeed die, the majority managed to survive. And with it, their first tastes of sword fighting. The legend stops there, as many details have been lost, and most people only know the general story. Tanzanno was born under Marie Charlotte Tencinna and Rondero Fernando, his father being an important general in the Nepharian army and his mother being an important woman under a family of rich land owners. For the most part, he never really saw his mother on the small plantation he lived at for his young life. She had tastes like any other noblewoman, and therefor preferred lounging in castles and on the beaches of southern Nepharie. Being a man under the Fernando family had expectations of you, and once he turned ten years old, he was thrusted into learning swordplay. As a young man, Tanz caught onto the sword as a carpenter would a hammer. The art came naturally, as it did most of the Fernando family. Their style came not from drilling or swinging a sword the entire day, it came from fierce sparring. The standard Fernando style consists of an adaptation of the common rapier. Thicker and with a keener edge, the estoc mixed the slashing of a longsword with the penetration of fencing. Not only that, but wielded in the offhand is a smaller sword known as an espada, bordering on the line between shortsword and dagger. Their original style consists of a rapid flurry of blows meant to stagger the target, while at the same time parrying and blocking with the espada, combining the two to harry an opponent into making mistakes. Tanzanno's skills in the art meant that he could get away with a lot of things, and he did. Tanzanna really didn't develop much of a taste for war as his father did. He preferred to stay at his home of Port Orarius, but found a way to do so. Teaching the art was his goal. From lowly soldiers to elite noblemen, he taught them all. While some left in pure stubbornness, most found his skills in teaching others to be the best option. Many southern Nepharian men have been taught and improved their skills in the twenty years or so he has been teaching. Family: While Tanzanno for the most part rarely knew his mother who so easily left him, he knew his father well. Many an evening would be spent sparring with wooden sticks with his own father, and many an evening spent nursing bruises given by his own father. Being a general made it hard, though. Rondero was often away on campaigns, either solving riots or fighting on distant battlefields. Relationships: Weaponry: In standard Fernando style, Tanzanno wields the main weapons of his family. The longsword estoc and the shortsword espada. More often than not, he has found himself in need of a backup weapon of sorts, so Tanzanno keeps a curved dagger hidden in the small of his back. Abilities: Being a special kind of sword fighter, Tanz is very agile and quick. Attacks focused more on accuracy and speed than pure brute force can often force a person not experienced in aggressive fighting to make mistakes. A relentless attack is the core of every Fernando style, and with the two weapons, it certainly forces a person to go on the defensive. Other than that, Tanz is still strong and fast for his growing age, with a keen sense of reaction drilled from youth. Weaknesses: Being focused on the attack often leaves you exposed. The drawbacks of wearing light armor are pretty obvious, and the lack of a shield increases the chances of getting hit by a projectile. The Ferdinando style, while very effective against people simply hiding behind a shield, has problems when going up against another aggressive style. In such a situation, both sides will likely be injured heavily simply due to the fact that neither are able to properly defend. His slightly larger size also works to disadvantage him. While agile and fast, his stature just works against him on that playing field. Also, being of noble birth, Tanz has never really experienced any sort of hard work. Of course, he's not a soft weakling, but he knows nothing of the plights of farming or mining. Nor does he have knowledge over the wilderness. Toss him out into the woods with no equipment and he might just be tempted to chase after squirrels with his sword. Really, the only thing he does well is fighting and debating. Companion: Do flowers count? Other: Not much other than this.

[Mixtape Ghost N]

Mr Allen J (The King of Swag)

Morag-Nog

Name:  Morag-Nog Age: 72 Gender: Female Species: Orc Kingdom of Origin: Nepharie Physical appearance: A statuesque Orcess. Much like other orcs, Morag-Nog is taller than humans. Standing at a solid 6'4, and weighing 250, her very thick bones add a curvature to her body. Broad shoulders, thick limbs. All accentuated by her thick muscles that are common to all orcs. She's an imposing force, the kind of Orcess you don't want to meet in a dark alley. Or else you might get your balls strung up on a rope. However, plenty of that intimidating factor disappears once she starts talking. That, or they see her choice of clothing. If there was any left, it would be gone by the time someone eyeballs her bad leg and her cane she uses to support herself. Years ago, Morag-Nog had suffered an injury to her leg that had ruined it. While it healed, the damage was so severe that it left some permanent damage. She always walks with a limp, and puts a disproportionate amount of weight on the other leg. If she does put too much weight on her bad leg, then it's almost always followed by groans of pain and agony. Now, Morag-Nog has typical orc characteristics. Thick, green, skin. That has been scarred many a times. The most notable scar is the one that is on the knee of her bad leg, and goes down to her ankle. Slashed open by a longsword. There are plenty of other blade scars that aren't as severe, all over her, but I don't feel like describing them all! Her head is diamond shaped, with a very thick and strong jaw. That jaw accents her underbite, two large, razorsharp teeth. With thick, red lips that are of a lighter hue, and a small, triangle-shape and hooked nose. Her eyes are large, and olive color, usually having an annoyed glare to them directed at the world. Her ears are large, round, and very pointed at the tips. Finally, Morag-Nog's hair is a deep-black color, not exactly too maintained. But she keeps it in five thick cornrows that start at her hairline, and go to the back of her head. Attire: Morag-Nog dresses classily. Almost out-of-character for what people expect Orcs to dress. Morag-Nog wears dresses, and puts on jewelry. The kind of outfits that look more on place with royalty. That's when she's out on the town. When she's at home, or inventing, she goes for the more practical outfits. Or practical for this time era. I don't know shit. Morag-Nog is always seen with a thin black cane. Personality: Classy, well spoken, and more. Morag-Nog is certainly not the typical hard-headed Orc, she talks and carries herself with class compared to nobility (Despite not being one). She never speaks unless she has something to say, and, when she does, people tend to listen. One thing she does despise are people who run their mouths constantly. She'll either break her silence to shut them up with a few choice words, or more. Otherwise, she's silent. Quietly waiting and absorbing all the information these fools have to give. It's more about her apathy and cynical attitude rather than arrogance. She has seen the world before, and lost what had really mattered to her. People can call her bitter, and ruthless at worse. Morag-Nog doesn't care too much for her morals anymore. Since she's a crippled woman, and feels as if she owes the world nothing. Only thing keeping her on track would be her goal of taking technology from the Red Legion. Which, in her eyes, is more important than most of the shitstains she encounters (Especially nations and the politics of the world). However, she rarely uses violence or her brutality as the first option. Instead she goes for the cleaner route of talking her way through problems rather than killing. Morag-Nog is not a monster. She values her allies, and long as they don't act as detriments to her, she will treat them right. A give and take thing. Hobbies/interests: Hard-fapping Skills: Morag-Nog has a mechanical mastery that is unmatched in the Kingdom (Perhaps, on par with the Red Legion if she gets an opportunity to compare. Wink, wink). If someone presents a device to her, she will take it apart and have it put back together in record time. She'll also be able to tell people what it's made of, and what it does. For Morag-Nog's knowledge spans far and wide. It needs to in order for her to invent stuffz. She can put together trinkets if she has the materials. Backstory: How did Morag-Nog, inventor extraordinaire, come to be? Well, get on my knee and I'll tell you.... Her father was an Orc Bandit, Dubok-Nog, leader of a group that was infamous for pillaging and raping alongside the Haderlock borders. Stealing all gold they could get their grubby little mits on - for no particular reason other than the fact that they could. He had mustered a large group of bandits that was comprised of Orcs and Humans, working in harmony as they committed filthy acts at a reasonable price. They were only truly active for a year. After awhile, people got pretty pissed off about their stolen gold. So bounty hunters, adventurers, and soldiers, came gunning for them. To the point they could operate without someone attacking them, or some ambush being sprung on them. Most of the wise chose to quit while they were ahead and leave the bandit group. While Dubok let greed take over him and try one last raid. Which was the last thing he ever did. However, before their fall, Morag-Nog was born in secrecy, with her mother being, Avalog, one of the former bandits that jumped ship once things looked bad. But, Avalog was alone, with an Orc daughter. She didn't want anything to do with the child now that Dubok was dead. So she caught up with one of her former "co-workers", Cole and Ingrid (Lovers that were planning to get married), who were close friends to Dubok (Also attempted to talk him out of his last score), and convinced them to take Morag-Nog. Before disappearing and probably fell off a cliff or something. The couple took Morag-Nog to Nepharie, where they lived out in the wilderness. Forming a little warm. Huntin' the booty ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°). Now, growing up in a location that was primarily owned by humans was not exactly easy. There wasn't exactly too much of a community for Morag-Nog to integrate into. Being one odd Orc in a primarily human community. Morag-Nog was mostly kept at home, at the farm. Where she was taught everything she needed to know. How to fight. How to maintain weapons. How the world works. And more. Of course, that kept her satisfied until she got older and older. Realizing that her place was not in this farming community, Morag-Nog bid farewell to that life and kept moving. She was given a horse and enough money to get started. The only problem was that she didn't know where to start. She figured that she had no choice but to put that fighting training she received to good use. She became a mercenary, a sword for hire. Her first job was to take out some thugs that were harassing a small town. Fortunately for her, they weren't trained, nor armed. So they were taken care of relatively easily. She kept doing jobs like this - which got progressively harder and harder. Morag-Nog got better and better, until she was capable of taking them. Morag-Nog made a name for herself being a brutal, but effective, mercenary that would do jobs for anyone. Eventually, she joined a group of Mercenaries comprised of multiple races. Humans, Orcs, Minotaurs, and more, all working together to take on big jobs. Like stop bandits, and beat up kids for their lunch money. And it was the life that Morag-Nog loved. A place where she felt at home, instead of being a farm hand, she was a mercenary. Everything changed once she took a mission to take out a bandit group that were hold out in a cave. However, the group had an ambush set up to deter anyone else planning on capturing them. Morag-Nog's group were the first to show up. An epic battle took place between both groups. There was blood, body parts, and hats flying all over the place. It turned out that Morag-Nog's team were the superior fighters and had the bandits on the ropes. That's what made her get a little cocky. During her climatic fight, someone snuck up on her and nearly took her leg off with a full force sword swing. It damaged her leg badly and made her keel over. By the time the fight was over, she was rushed to the doctor. Potions and other things helped her heal faster. In a few months, her leg was healed! Mostly. She could never walk right again. That was the end of Morag-Nog's mercenary adventures at the age of twenty-five. She took her money, and her mercenary team left her to continue their adventures. Leaving Morag-Nog's life rather empty. Confined to a town in the Kingdom of Talbor, Morag-Nog was probably going to throw herself off a bridge or something. However, she was approached by one of the people whom she did a job for in that town. A human inventor named Sarah that wanted an apprentice. Since Morag-Nog had suffered a career ending injury, she wanted the Orcess to be that person. Which was an odd request for a warrior, but she was desperate to find purpose, so she just went for it. Morag-Nog was taught everything Sarah knew about inventing, and worked on many projects with the woman. Some of them going hilariously wrong. Well, many of them weren't wrong. Morag-Nog had taken a talent to inventing, something that she felt that she did better than fighting. It was years before she managed to separate herself from Sarah and stand out on her own. Decades past, and Morag-Nog continued and became a master. A few months before current events, and Morag-Nog's was seventy-two, and Sarah had passed away. Leaving behind all of her knowledge of machinery to Morag. Who wanted to change the world with her inventions. When the Fire Nati- I mean Red Legion, attacked, initially Morag-Nog was apathetic to it. Long as they don't disrupt her work, she didn't care about who was a king or a queen. That changed once she learned what technological feats they were capable of. She figured that she should get back into adventuring in order to get some of their technology and study it. In order to reverse engineer it and somehow come up with a counter to it. And maybe find someone who will fix her leg. Relationships: N/A Weaponry: Morag-Nog still has her double-ended battleax from her youth. She keeps it nice and polished, even though it hasn't tasted blood for years. For protection, she carries around two daggers with her at all times. Abilities: Morag-Nog is strong as hell and equally tough. Much like other orcs. Combat used to be something Morag-Nog excelled at. Fighting whoever paid the best. Bandits, monsters, your grandmother. However, those days have long past. She hasn't exactly seen a real fight in years. Other than fighting a mugger or someone who runs their mouth too much. Morag-Nog has been taught how to use longswords, but she has learned how to use battleaxes - which became her main weapon. She used to be able to cut someone's head off with one well placed swing. It's harder to do with her disability, but she has been practicing how to fight on one bad leg. But she prefers subtly and stealth these days. As much stealth as a giant-ass Orcess can muster! Weaknesses: Morag-Nog shares the same weaknesses as other orcs. Slow, bad senses, and smells bad. Morag-Nog has that aforementioned bad leg. It limits her mobility greatly, and if she stands on it the wrong way, it's gonna hurt. Someone can also take advantage of this weakness. Anyone can really. Which is why she isn't exactly too keen on fighting anymore. Even then, Morag-Nog has not seen a real fight in years, and she's pretty rusty compared to the more youthful and experienced cast members. Companion: N/A Other: FUCK YO Polaris!

[Leonerdo]

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