Name: Jasce Nighteye
Age: 17
Gender: Male
Personality: If the opening paragraph doesn't help any, here we go. Jasce is a goofball, but it's honestly to entertain others. It's a semi-depressing town they live in, so he tries to be a sort of comic relief. He is actually quite serious- you have to be in a town like this. He's not exactly quick witted but he isn't as stupid as he pretends to be. He is very protective of his friends, and you might find yourself with a knife in your rib cage, usually on the left side, if you try to hurt them. When it's time to get down to business, Jasce straightens up and is quite capable of taking care of things.
History: Jasce was born and raised in the beautiful town of Meidiba. His parents were murdered early on his life and he sort of came under the wing of the boss man, though he wasn't actually raised by him. He was passed around between people who had the time to deal with someone of his high energy level. Because of this, he's quite loyal to the boss man. He doesn't question much what he's told to do and seeing the other two factions get stronger over the years feels like an insult to the boss. But the boss said not to do anything with them, just to focus on what he told them to do because he wasn't worried about "the little pissing match" that would come to be if they got too powerful.
He has a friend Levlonggir but he usually just calls him Lev because he feels it's too much to say. They're kind of polar opposites, but that's kind of what makes them work. When he became old enough to start doing odd jobs, they worked together to accomplish the goals, though it was usually Lev dragging Jasce along and cleaning up his messes. The boss finds it quite entertaining when the two come back to report to him cause of the conversations/arguments that ensue. His lackeys would prefer to go on to the next item of business, but they don't exactly tell the boss that since he's too busy just sitting back and watching them.
In the past few months, the boss has introduced a new member to the group- a female dark elf, he calls her Zoobie. Jasce has treated the whole thing like a big game. He likes getting to explain things like he actually knows what he's talking about, but then Lev comes in and ruins the whole thing by explaining it properly.
He knows this town like the back of his hand, so if you're trying to catch him for some reason, you're going to lose. The only person who can is Lev, because he knows where he's mostly likely to pop back out at. He can't get lost in his town, but he will pretend to be lost if he accidentally runs in to Bloodthirst or Lady Z's crew because they don't tend to like him- something to do with him constantly running his mouth.
Another reason he might likely come back out of hiding is because Zoobie gets "kidnapped," aka because he forgot she was following him and she got lost in the process of him trying to get away from something. Lev usually finds her by the time that lightbulb finally goes off. The lecture that follows has become a broken record.
Abilities: He's quick with a knife, but he's not likely to be all that stealthy if he isn't used to the terrain. In his hometown? Good luck catching him once he's completed his job. When he's got something to complete, there's point in trying to joke with him, because he's focused. If he's in a terrain where he doesn't really know how to easily get away, the shadows become his best friend and the easiest means of escape.
Anything extra?:https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=1zagQpB_c0M
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ScarlettWaters16 Level 80 Assassin Badass
Member
Seen
9 yrs ago
Name: Fox Ironwall
Age: 16
Gender: Female
Personality: Fox is a very arrogant person. She is loyal to no one but herself and she does what she feels she needs to do to survive, even if that means betraying her friends. She is very quiet at times, but when it comes to a heist, she is never afraid to be loud and obnoxious about the score that comes out of it. She never has partners in fear of them betraying her and she always keeps her distance from things like love. She is sometimes a cold person and it is rare for her to do something nice for anyone.
History: Fox grew up in this town not knowing her parents. She was dumped on the streets when she was only three years old and was taken in by a group of older kids who wound up feeling bad for her. They all stayed in the same house that she did and they were all thieves, as she grew up to be. She grew up being the baby of the group, always getting the smallest share from any big heist they did and always getting the crumbs of any meal that they could scrape by on. She didn’t mind because they were her family and she loved them like it.
That all changed when she found the necklace. A red and black choker necklace with a black diamond on the very front. She saw it and immediately she wanted it. So, in the dead of night, she stole into the house that contained the necklace and she took it for herself. She did not tell the others about it and as soon as she put it on, she began to feel different. She began to feel stronger, quicker, and stealthier all at the same time. She was fourteen at the time and she began to gain more heists, score more dough than any of her friends. And her friends began to get jealous.
One night when she was fifteen, they confronted her about what had been going on and they got into a fight. Two of her family was killed and others badly injured, but she walked away unscathed. She knew it was the necklace, and somewhere deep in the back of her mind, she knew she should take it off, but she couldn’t. That necklace was a part of her now and she could not bear to part from it. So, in the dead of night, she went away. She found a new place on her own and stays there now.
Abilities: She is great with a bow and arrow and very skilled at hand to hand combat, but when it comes to her, you don’t want to be around her when she’s made and has a throwing knife. The necklace makes her stealthier, so she is more silent and able to blend into shadows and darkness easier. She also seems to know what fight moves a person does before they even make it.
Anything extra?: She always has the necklace on. No matter what. She never takes it off."Women, wine, brawling, arguing about theology... it is best in life, no?"
6.5ft, naturally strong and fit with some hints to a beer gut, his body is covered in a number of tattoos symbolysing his criminal life (on his back - a large castle with five towers, telling how many years he spent in dungeon; on his right forearm - a tankard, meaning he killed in a tavern brawl; on the back of his left hand - a cat in a hat, saying that he robbed a house; on his calves - various religious symbols, meaning that he does not kneel; on his chest - a pair of eyes, symbolysing that he watched over other prisoners in the dungeon; at the base of his neck - a bleeding wound, meaning that he killed and believes he will die a violent death)
Name: Strogobor Moravec
Age: 39
Gender: Male
Personality: Strogobor is, according to the people that know him, a bundle of contradictions. Cocksure, yet knows when to back away. A scoundrel who adheres to some code of conduct. A braggart, but can't take a compliment. Likes to chase anything wearing a skirt, but never loses his head over a woman. Quick to anger with adults, enviably patient with children. He is naturally solemn to the point that he views smiling without a reason as a sign of stupidity. And yet, he doesn't shy away from tomfoolery and taverns if opportunity arises - in fact, if taverns did not require coin for their services, he'd spend his days making rounds between them. As a consequence, Strogobor rather enjoys music and he is quite likely to whistle a tune while pummeling some poor sod that owes him.
History: Strogobor hails from the harsh and tumultuous lands in the east, though he avoids to define which land exactly he comes from. He only ever admits that he is from a peasant family that had a horse and that he lived near a river. Parts of his life were spent fighting wars, both as a soldier and a mercenary, and with a lot of luck, Strogobor survived the nearly constant conflicts, losing only sight in his left eye and a small part of his right ear in the process. Growing tired of risking his neck for little to no gain, he saddled his horse, took his sabre and rode out toward the west at the age of 27. During that journey, he came to call himself "a professional criminal" as he stole, robbed, gambled, smuggled and killed for a living.
Eventually, Strogobor settled in Meidiba, tired of wandering around. Over the years, he managed to avoid aligning with any of the big cheeses of the city, preferring to work as a sort of a freelancer by doing carefully chosen odd jobs for all of them. He even earned some respect in the criminal underworld as someone reliable and sufficiently, but not overly cunning. On the other side of the coin, his way of living left him on a bit of an ugly side in terms of appearance, somewhat spiritual and without a retirement plan. Fortunately for him, his mare Wojda is still well and kicking. There still might be work for a mounted mercenary.
Abilities: Strogobor is extremely proficient with a sabre, especially on horseback, and when pure skill fails, he knows every dirty trick in the book when it comes to fighting. Being big and brutish has its good sides and its bad sides. Though he is naturally ambidextrous, he prefers using his right hand for apparent reasons. His other positive traits are that he is quite lucid when inebriated and that he can play string instruments quite well.
Anything extra?: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=BcZrhJDoIac
6.5ft, naturally strong and fit with some hints to a beer gut, his body is covered in a number of tattoos symbolysing his criminal life (on his back - a large castle with five towers, telling how many years he spent in dungeon; on his right forearm - a tankard, meaning he killed in a tavern brawl; on the back of his left hand - a cat in a hat, saying that he robbed a house; on his calves - various religious symbols, meaning that he does not kneel; on his chest - a pair of eyes, symbolysing that he watched over other prisoners in the dungeon; at the base of his neck - a bleeding wound, meaning that he killed and believes he will die a violent death)
Name: Strogobor Moravec
Age: 39
Gender: Male
Personality: Strogobor is, according to the people that know him, a bundle of contradictions. Cocksure, yet knows when to back away. A scoundrel who adheres to some code of conduct. A braggart, but can't take a compliment. Likes to chase anything wearing a skirt, but never loses his head over a woman. Quick to anger with adults, enviably patient with children. He is naturally solemn to the point that he views smiling without a reason as a sign of stupidity. And yet, he doesn't shy away from tomfoolery and taverns if opportunity arises - in fact, if taverns did not require coin for their services, he'd spend his days making rounds between them. As a consequence, Strogobor rather enjoys music and he is quite likely to whistle a tune while pummeling some poor sod that owes him.
History: Strogobor hails from the harsh and tumultuous lands in the east, though he avoids to define which land exactly he comes from. He only ever admits that he is from a peasant family that had a horse and that he lived near a river. Parts of his life were spent fighting wars, both as a soldier and a mercenary, and with a lot of luck, Strogobor survived the nearly constant conflicts, losing only sight in his left eye and a small part of his right ear in the process. Growing tired of risking his neck for little to no gain, he saddled his horse, took his sabre and rode out toward the west at the age of 27. During that journey, he came to call himself "a professional criminal" as he stole, robbed, gambled, smuggled and killed for a living.
Eventually, Strogobor settled in Meidiba, tired of wandering around. Over the years, he managed to avoid aligning with any of the big cheeses of the city, preferring to work as a sort of a freelancer by doing carefully chosen odd jobs for all of them. He even earned some respect in the criminal underworld as someone reliable and sufficiently, but not overly cunning. On the other side of the coin, his way of living left him on a bit of an ugly side in terms of appearance, somewhat spiritual and without a retirement plan. Fortunately for him, his mare Wojda is still well and kicking. There still might be work for a mounted mercenary.
Abilities: Strogobor is extremely proficient with a sabre, especially on horseback, and when pure skill fails, he knows every dirty trick in the book when it comes to fighting. Being big and brutish has its good sides and its bad sides. Though he is naturally ambidextrous, he prefers using his right hand for apparent reasons. His other positive traits are that he is quite lucid when inebriated and that he can play string instruments quite well.
Anything extra?: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=BcZrhJDoIac
"The fact that I am blind does not mean I cannot see"
5ft 5in, her eyes have been ripped out. There is nothing but ragged holes where they should be.
Name: Rhian 'The Priestess of the Damned'.
Age: 33
Gender: Female
Personality: I care for those that the rest of society leaves for dead. When others hiss at the disfigured, the diseased, or the insane, I care for them. I treat them with the kindness and the compassion they deserve, and I bring the word of the gods to them. They are the Damned of Society, and I am their Priestess. They are my flock, my children. Like any mother, I grow angry whenever my children are threatened. Specifically, I kill those who threaten them. I'm really typically nice and peaceful. Just don't threaten my children, or I'll show you what it really is to be damned. I have a stubborn streak a mile wide, it should be said.
History: I was blinded at a young age. I don't remember who did it, or why. I only remember the intense pain of having both eyes carved out of my head, and passing out. As I slipped into blissful unconsciousness, I assumed I was going to die. Afterall, typically when you lose your eyes that violently, you bleed out. But, I didn't die. I was visited by a multitude of beings of shadow. They were too dark to make out more than just their forms, but they spoke to me. I won't go into the details of all they said, as that would be a telling that would take days. They told me I had been chosen to guide the damned, the forgotten, and the shunned. I had been chosen to save them from themselves, and protect them from the rest of the world. They would give me the powers necessary to both overcome my blindness, and protect my flock. I accepted their offer gladly. When the only other choice is death, you don't accept an offer any other way, do you?
The going was hard, at first. After all, no one respects a little girl, least of all a blind one in the slums, near the crags. But my Gods provide. Those who threatened me paid dearly for their insolence. Those who merely ignored me were forgiven, and later brought into the fold. As I grew, so did my powers and my ability to understand people and comfort them. It is harder than you think, to make someone open up to you. Especially near the crag. These people have been hated, insulted, and attacked their entire lives. Getting them to open up to me, to my Gods, and to let themselves be comforted. I suppose that's where my stubborn streak came from. I refused to give up on them, no matter how many times they threw me back. No matter how many times they screamed an insulted me. I always came back.
Now, there's a tension in the air. There's a trembling through the lifeforces. Something is coming. I don't know what, but I do know one thing. I will weather the storm, and I will protect my children. As I always have. As I always will.
Abilities:
Lifeforce sight- My magic, a gift from the Gods, more than makes up for my lack of sight. I can see the life force of people and animals like burning candles in the dark. Even inanimate objects can be seen by me, a dark grey glow. They even have their own colors, according to the person's personality. I can also erase some objects from my sight, like my mask. After all , it would be ridiculous to be blinded because I couldn't see through my mask. Thanks to my power, I know better than most how easily the flame of life can be snuffed out. I've watched it happen.
Healing- I can heal wounds, though naturally the more severe the wound the longer it takes. A minor stab or cut takes seconds. A mortal wound to the heart takes days.
Hellfire and Black Lightning- I can wield the nastier versions of fire and lightning. My Hellfire, a lovely blue, burns the soul as well as the flesh, and burns with a greater intensity than your average flame. So those struck with it might recover quickly from the physical wounds, the spiritual pain would last for years. My black lighting is as dark as night, and rather than only just throwing the lightning bolt and praying, I can manipulate it unnaturally. A lighting whip, or a ball, or a sword. Things like that. It too leaves a lasting spiritual damage. If this sounds unholy, good. *She gives a small smile.*I am a priestess of the Damned after all.
Disease immune- Be they plagues or common colds, I am immune to them.
5ft 5in, her eyes have been ripped out. There is nothing but ragged holes where they should be.
Name: Rhian 'The Priestess of the Damned'.
Age: 33
Gender: Female
Personality: I care for those that the rest of society leaves for dead. When others hiss at the disfigured, the diseased, or the insane, I care for them. I treat them with the kindness and the compassion they deserve, and I bring the word of the gods to them. They are the Damned of Society, and I am their Priestess. They are my flock, my children. Like any mother, I grow angry whenever my children are threatened. Specifically, I kill those who threaten them. I'm really typically nice and peaceful. Just don't threaten my children, or I'll show you what it really is to be damned. I have a stubborn streak a mile wide, it should be said.
History: I was blinded at a young age. I don't remember who did it, or why. I only remember the intense pain of having both eyes carved out of my head, and passing out. As I slipped into blissful unconsciousness, I assumed I was going to die. Afterall, typically when you lose your eyes that violently, you bleed out. But, I didn't die. I was visited by a multitude of beings of shadow. They were too dark to make out more than just their forms, but they spoke to me. I won't go into the details of all they said, as that would be a telling that would take days. They told me I had been chosen to guide the damned, the forgotten, and the shunned. I had been chosen to save them from themselves, and protect them from the rest of the world. They would give me the powers necessary to both overcome my blindness, and protect my flock. I accepted their offer gladly. When the only other choice is death, you don't accept an offer any other way, do you?
The going was hard, at first. After all, no one respects a little girl, least of all a blind one in the slums, near the crags. But my Gods provide. Those who threatened me paid dearly for their insolence. Those who merely ignored me were forgiven, and later brought into the fold. As I grew, so did my powers and my ability to understand people and comfort them. It is harder than you think, to make someone open up to you. Especially near the crag. These people have been hated, insulted, and attacked their entire lives. Getting them to open up to me, to my Gods, and to let themselves be comforted. I suppose that's where my stubborn streak came from. I refused to give up on them, no matter how many times they threw me back. No matter how many times they screamed an insulted me. I always came back.
Now, there's a tension in the air. There's a trembling through the lifeforces. Something is coming. I don't know what, but I do know one thing. I will weather the storm, and I will protect my children. As I always have. As I always will.
Abilities:
Lifeforce sight- My magic, a gift from the Gods, more than makes up for my lack of sight. I can see the life force of people and animals like burning candles in the dark. Even inanimate objects can be seen by me, a dark grey glow. They even have their own colors, according to the person's personality. I can also erase some objects from my sight, like my mask. After all , it would be ridiculous to be blinded because I couldn't see through my mask. Thanks to my power, I know better than most how easily the flame of life can be snuffed out. I've watched it happen.
Healing- I can heal wounds, though naturally the more severe the wound the longer it takes. A minor stab or cut takes seconds. A mortal wound to the heart takes days.
Hellfire and Black Lightning- I can wield the nastier versions of fire and lightning. My Hellfire, a lovely blue, burns the soul as well as the flesh, and burns with a greater intensity than your average flame. So those struck with it might recover quickly from the physical wounds, the spiritual pain would last for years. My black lighting is as dark as night, and rather than only just throwing the lightning bolt and praying, I can manipulate it unnaturally. A lighting whip, or a ball, or a sword. Things like that. It too leaves a lasting spiritual damage. If this sounds unholy, good. *She gives a small smile.*I am a priestess of the Damned after all.
Disease immune- Be they plagues or common colds, I am immune to them.Twistedgrin
Member
Seen
10 yrs ago
Name: Levlongir Runstoffa "Lev"
Age: 22
Gender: GIRLYMAN Man
Personality: BUZZKILLLLLLLLLLL Lev is a driven individual. As his goal is to become the boss he tends to think about "PANTIIIIES"the impact that their actives have, and makes sure that nothing that could be damaging is tied to him or Jayce. Family is priceless and at the same time its the biggest pain in the neck. His attention to detail can be borderline Obsessive, and often leads to him over planning. He can be a bit of a nag and has a habit of assuming everyone is going to fail and basically shoulders everything himself. Hes an egocentric douchewaffle who cant relax ever
History: In the mouth of hell a demon gave birth to the truest evil Growing up on the streets of Meidiba is not the best place for a child, let alone an orphan. His arrival in the red rose, one of Lady Z's most profitable establishments came as a bit of a shock, but what was more shocking was Lady Z's affection for the "beautiful boy" His survival was secured as no one would dare touch him after that. But she was not a merciful woman, he earned his keep, stealing information from patrons and securing his own meals. It was when he was five he stumbled across some shady dealings involving purchasing a baby.
Lev armed with a simple broken bit of rebar charged the two men determined that no explanation would be good enough for purchasing a child, even among thieves and killers certain things are just wrong.AND THEN HE GOT HIS ASS WHOPPED Good intentions where not enough to hurt let alone stop two grown men, who nearly beat him the poor child to death. It was when he almost blacked out that he saw one of the men sail over him their face practually caved in, the other didn't even get to scream the only sound that Lev heard was likely the last breath as the unseen man had his throat crushed. "The BOSS" leaned over the young Lev holding the infant, That grows into the best dude ever his look impressed but his laugh so condescending that it hurt worse than the beating he had just received. From this event Lady Z and the Boss became more neutral towards one another, but that's not important now.
Lady Z armed Lev with a sword far to large for him at the time, but its like she told the girls, "if it doesn't fit find a way".....DUDE Training was all Lev cared about for years trying to push the mans laughing from his head with the whistle of his blade cutting air and the screams when it cut flesh. Somewhere along this way I TOTALLY JACKED HIS SWORD he ran into the infant once more, and while it was strange at first the twos polar opposite attitudes made them constantly worry for the other. Time and time again IT WASNT THAT MANY Lev ended up stepping into messes to try and get the young idiotic foolhardy insufferable harsh bro out alive.
In recent memory both the boys have grown into a rather influential pair throughout Medibia if its not their actions for their respective foster parents if you can call them that it was their shenanigans that passed the time...often ending up with someone somewhere flat broke OR DEAD You cant strike through that they die bro
Abilities: AWESOMNESS...
Blade dancer: A make shift sword style all his own, making use of his strength speed and intellect he gracefully dodges most attacks while instantly countering without loosing momentum.
Cruelty: Lev has a rather cold side, allowing him to feel no remorse for maiming or wounding in order to reach a great goal or leave a lasting impact. Seriously shits fucked
Incubus: Perhaps it was his upbringing but Lev knows just what to say or not to say, to turn almost any woman into a temporary ally.
Anything extra?: Like theme songs and such.
Age: 22
Gender: GIRLYMAN Man
Personality: BUZZKILLLLLLLLLLL Lev is a driven individual. As his goal is to become the boss he tends to think about "PANTIIIIES"the impact that their actives have, and makes sure that nothing that could be damaging is tied to him or Jayce. Family is priceless and at the same time its the biggest pain in the neck. His attention to detail can be borderline Obsessive, and often leads to him over planning. He can be a bit of a nag and has a habit of assuming everyone is going to fail and basically shoulders everything himself. Hes an egocentric douchewaffle who cant relax ever
History: In the mouth of hell a demon gave birth to the truest evil Growing up on the streets of Meidiba is not the best place for a child, let alone an orphan. His arrival in the red rose, one of Lady Z's most profitable establishments came as a bit of a shock, but what was more shocking was Lady Z's affection for the "beautiful boy" His survival was secured as no one would dare touch him after that. But she was not a merciful woman, he earned his keep, stealing information from patrons and securing his own meals. It was when he was five he stumbled across some shady dealings involving purchasing a baby.
Lev armed with a simple broken bit of rebar charged the two men determined that no explanation would be good enough for purchasing a child, even among thieves and killers certain things are just wrong.AND THEN HE GOT HIS ASS WHOPPED Good intentions where not enough to hurt let alone stop two grown men, who nearly beat him the poor child to death. It was when he almost blacked out that he saw one of the men sail over him their face practually caved in, the other didn't even get to scream the only sound that Lev heard was likely the last breath as the unseen man had his throat crushed. "The BOSS" leaned over the young Lev holding the infant, That grows into the best dude ever his look impressed but his laugh so condescending that it hurt worse than the beating he had just received. From this event Lady Z and the Boss became more neutral towards one another, but that's not important now.
Lady Z armed Lev with a sword far to large for him at the time, but its like she told the girls, "if it doesn't fit find a way".....DUDE Training was all Lev cared about for years trying to push the mans laughing from his head with the whistle of his blade cutting air and the screams when it cut flesh. Somewhere along this way I TOTALLY JACKED HIS SWORD he ran into the infant once more, and while it was strange at first the twos polar opposite attitudes made them constantly worry for the other. Time and time again IT WASNT THAT MANY Lev ended up stepping into messes to try and get the young idiotic foolhardy insufferable harsh bro out alive.
In recent memory both the boys have grown into a rather influential pair throughout Medibia if its not their actions for their respective foster parents if you can call them that it was their shenanigans that passed the time...often ending up with someone somewhere flat broke OR DEAD You cant strike through that they die bro
Abilities: AWESOMNESS...
Blade dancer: A make shift sword style all his own, making use of his strength speed and intellect he gracefully dodges most attacks while instantly countering without loosing momentum.
Cruelty: Lev has a rather cold side, allowing him to feel no remorse for maiming or wounding in order to reach a great goal or leave a lasting impact. Seriously shits fucked
Incubus: Perhaps it was his upbringing but Lev knows just what to say or not to say, to turn almost any woman into a temporary ally.
Anything extra?: Like theme songs and such.
The Roman07
Member
Seen
8 yrs ago
Name: Jack and Roman Drachir (The Drake Bros.)
Age: 24 & 22
Gender: males
Personality: Jack- Jacks a lover not a fighter. As well as a schemer a scammer and a cheat. Always looking for the next best score. As long as theres gold to be made Jack is a step ahead figuring out how to get more. Intelligent, cunning and a tongue of silver. If push comes to shove and his big bro aint around to push them back, hes got a few alchemical tricks up his sleeve.
Roman- The mind and body equavilent to a boulder. Strong, hardy, and stubborn to beat. All in all quite intimidating at first but as gentle as a teddy bear. Roman has the brain capacity of a 13 year old kid but a loyalty to his brother that would last a lifetime.
History: Unfamiliar with Crag both Jack and Roman were told of rumors that their father once ventured through here. Being raised by only their mother since birth and told only stories of his courage, power and such high reknown, they naturally want to follow in his footsteps if not out of curiosity then out of the want and need of having a complete family again. Obviously this is not told to a soul and if questioned they are simply mercenaries out to make a name for themselves. Roman loves the stories his mother told him of their father, but Jack thinks she was hiding something. Nobody is ever that good of a person without doing some shady things on the side to help his way up the ladder of sucess.
The Brothers are not unfamiliar with "unsavory places" this was not their first stop from their tiny cottage up in the west mountains. They have been folowing dribs and drabs of rumors and clues to their fathers wereabouts for nearly 7 years now. The trail had nearly gone cold until an information broker from the east gave word of this weird town called Crag. "Crag is a town where stories of many a men start and end." Unsure exactly what the man meant by that he had this nagging tick to start looking there.
(I purposefully left a bit out because i would like to build on their backstory in game. Im a fan of using the world around me to create the character but due to the slight lack of detail given about the world they live in i cannot exactly do that. To no fault of the GM since he purposefully did that so please dont take this in any offense)
Abilities: Jack- A quick mind and a quicker tongue is his greatest asset, but he also dabbles in alchemy thanks to his brother constantly hurting himself one way or another. Healing salves are his expertise but thanks to some on the fly experimenting with ingredients along the roadside he has developed a few other vials of special mixtures resulting in powders that create flashes of light, oils that burn and cannot be put out by water and even an insence that would bring a giant to his knees from the horrid hallucinations induced. Hes been known to sell these on the road as well to make a quick coin...
Roman- Strength of an Ox, endurance of a running river and a skull as thick as the queens mattress. Unsure if its magic or just a gifted vigor from generations of hardy family but Roman can squeeze milk from a stone if Jack asks him to. He carries a Claymore like one would carry a longsword and over time has learned how to use it quite well. Thanks to all the fights Roman had to finish thanks to Jacks scamming of course. He is no strategist though, he fights purely by instinct but that has suited him just fine so far...
Anything extra?: The Drake Brothers have made a bit of a name for themselves doing some mercenary work on the side. Some things good, others bad but one thing is always clear. They either go all out or not at all. They never do things half assed and always try to get the most gold for the job.
Alexia
5' foot 7' inches
118 Ibs
Age: Twenty-Seven
Gender: Female
Personality: Forged from the fires of insidious creation, dusted with the ash of what little remains of her former, and meek self, Alexia is a strong-willed and powerful woman. The taint of the crag's magic transformed her, almost completely shifting her character. Playing with the hearts of those she can use, molding them like clay in her hands. Her time in Meidiba is normally spent conning things off of merchants, flowing through the crowds of those like her like a stream of water, too fluid to be seen - noticed only when she bats her lashes. Alexia is proud, and carries herself with a strong resolve, a fiery depth in her amber eyes. Not known to be entirely trustworthy, considering her line of work..
History: Alexia traversed lands vast and wild, though nothing in her travels could prepare her for what lay in wait - a hungry beast with a heart of pure black, never filled despite the souls it devoured. She would find herself trapped in the belly of the beast, never to resurface. Hearing tales of the crag, young Alexia, a shaman in the making, headed off to uncover the mysteries surrounding the veil of darkness that shrouded itself over the split that spread apart their world.
The horse she borrowed from the cluster whinnied below her, it's steps getting progressively heavier, ears tilted back. Something was wrong. She could feel it in the air, engulfing her slowly, bathing her in warning. 'Turn back', it said, 'There is naught but despair on this path you take.' Yet, she pressed forward, heart purged by curiosity and the whispers promising that she would be the first to undertake the magic, to embrace it so closely. The shroud of darkness lay just ahead, hiding the crevice within from prying eyes, the magic was plainly visible, hovering in the air and shimmering, hiding the taint with a welcoming burst of warmth. Just before crossing through the veil of magic, the white horse she was riding bucked, lifting her high off of it's back and onto the muddy floor below, still wet from last nights storm. Landing with a thud that knocked all of the wind from her lungs, Alexia watched helplessly as her horse ran from the shroud of magic - from her.
Taking a deep breath and wiping her face of mud splatters, Alexia shakily rose on her legs, light blue eyes searching the area for any sign of the white coat of her horse. She searched to no avail, not trace of her horse remained beside the hoof-prints left behind in the mud, already leading far off. Pursing her lips, the young healer turned back to the seemingly thicker blanket of magic, raising a brow at it with ample curiosity. Lifting a hand, she placed her palm flat against the veil, closing her eyes as a flood of warmth flushed over her skin, listening as the whispers claimed her mind. Her hand pressed further, passing through the magic was like pushing through water, a slow process, but refreshing. The whispers grew louder, egging her on, pushing her forward. The magic took it's time, seeping into her, swirling around her. It was everywhere, even in her head. The change was almost instantaneous. The mass of magic taking over, molding itself to her, flowing through her veins and swallowing her whole. She pushed against the mass of water-thick magic, tears streaking her face, "Please, let me go!" She screamed into the abyss while falling, always falling farther and farther. There was no exit, no white horse, no light. It wanted her, to feed from her magic. Or, so she thought. The whispers calmed, slowing until they became nothing more than a dull hum of memory, ringing in her ears. The pressure of the warm magic was gone, she could see the woods once more, the density of the forest a welcome comfort. Turning around, she noted that she was once again on the other side of the veil, she closed her eyes, quickly backing away from the tug of magic, shutting out the start of whispers.
She had followed her horses tracks all the way back to Meidiba, taking refuge in the dark town until she could send word to her cluster. Deciding to wait a day, to let the shock wear off, Alexia took what little gold she had packed away with her, thankfully she'd decided to carry that, and not put her coin purse on that horse as well. She'd managed to barter with the innkeeper about the price of her stay, if only by a few coins, and was sent to her room with a gilded key. After cleaning herself off, she traded her muddy dress for a new sky blue one, soft and easy to maneuver in. Once she had settled, Alexia laid back onto the hard bed, closing her eyes and hoping to find sleep. An immense warmth began to overtake her body, whispers calling to her amidst the dark of her room. She gasped, feeling a familiar pressure against her body, slowly beginning to overtake her. The whispers roared in her head, confirming her fears, that the magic had become a part of her. The brunette could feel herself slipping, falling ever more into the inescapable abyss, letting the whispers grow into shouts, kindling the warmth into a burning fire that raged within her. It didn't take long for her to fall completely into the darkness.
Waking with a start, Alexia sat up from where she had collapsed onto the ground, her brows raising at the dull glow reflecting off of the wooden floor. Averting her gaze down, she looked at her hands, tears forming in her eyes. Her hands, they were discolored, tainted into a purplish haze, like the tips of a freshly lit flame. Letting her eyes travel up her arms, tinted a deep red, the colors would be comforting, if they didn't belong to her body. Wasting no time, she rushed off to the restroom, careful not to wake or disturb anyone - hard as it was, considering she was glowing like wall torch. Moving was increasingly hard however, as her head had something on it, something she'd tried to remove along the way, but with no luck. Entering the bathroom, she moved to light the lamp beside her, only to jump back in surprise as the lamp began to light the room, lit with a flame. Though, what truly surprised her, wasn't the lamp at all. It was herself. Mouth agape, the tears that had been brimming in her now glowing red eyes streamed down her cheeks. She was a monster, magic rippling around her skin, horns upon her head and eyes aglow. The whispers started to speak once more, this time sounding similar to her own voice, a reassuring presence in her mind. Her warmth grew, and the tears turned into steam, drifting into the air around her, swirling beside the purple bursts of magic. A knock at the door interrupted the whispers, "Are you all right in there, lass?" The innkeeper.
Turning her head away from the door and back to the mirror, Alexia took herself in, her eyes burning darkly. "Oh yes, dear. I'm fine." A smile stretched it's way across her face, "I'm perfect."
Abilities:
Human
- Skilled in persuasion, she can be quite the diplomat, dominating the verbal battlefield.
- A gifted Pyromancer, she is able to create and manipulate fire.
- Her time in the cluster provided her with knowledge of plants with toxic, and healing properties.
- Minimal hand to hand combat experience.
- Influence within Meidiba's merchant place.
- Enhanced pyromancy.
- Able to plant subconscious suggestions in the mind of hostiles.
- Agile, though strength is greatly reduced.
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