[CHAR] Vampire Hunters: Purge in the North

[Medjedovic]

These hiders will be filled as the RP progresses.

NPCs

TBA

Monsters

TBA

Vampires

TBA

Locations

Yorrick
Yorrick was a typical mountain settlement, with houses scattered around the whole mountain it was on, but this part of the village along the main road surrounded by a wooden palisade represented the core of it. Here you could find a village hall, tavern, church and a blacksmith. All incredibly modest, as it suited a place this far away North.

[Leolycan]

Appearance

"Rumors of walking corpses? Is that all? Hard to believe they'd muster up this much of a force for petty rumors."

[Name]
Jorn Segundis
[Class]
Skirmisher
[Age]
32
[Gender]
Male
[Background]

Born Telrio Delicor Ingmar, Jorn began his life as the son of a rather large noble family in the eastern kingdom of Fariche. Able to provide everything the boy could ever want in his life, one would say he lived a life of extreme privilege... Though if you were to ask the man now, he'd say it was the most boring experiences of his life. Now he didn't mind the female attention, or how most of the merchants jumped through hoops to appease him... Still, it was all mundane. This is why the boy began to foster an interest in the family house guard and the local army. Surely the life of a soldier was filled with more thrills and adventures then just sitting at home being pampered. So- when he was able- Jorn would sneak from his family's estate to the local barracks and guardhouses in order to train with the troops.

The mountainous terrain that enveloped his home land had led to several oddities in training- at least in regards to the central kingdoms- focusing more on movement of small squads and dispersal then forming of ranks and 'proper' combat. War was neither fair nor chivalrous, you misdirect your opponent and strike hard when they're not looking. Or at least that was what the senior soldiers and officers offered the boy as they tutored him. Though his family never approved of his 'uncivilized' interests, they did nothing to divert the boys attention. Being so far down the family inheritance (being the second youngest out of 7 male heirs) they figured becoming a well established knight or honor guard was the best opportunity for their son. And the soldiers loved him! He became a mascot to the guard, a young boy who trained in a field not far from where they held their drills. Everyday, mimicking their movements and emulating their routines to the best of the young boy's abilities. It didn't take long for the officers to notice and offer the boy a proper station, a squire to the Lord-Commander, Lerique. Faithfully Jorn served his adoptive family for many years, but around the age of 23, that all changed. Having worked his way up to a Master Scout, the young warrior had reports that a tragedy had befallen his family and forced the man to retire from service.

It was no mystery to anyone that Jorn's father had dabbled in the art of 'dueling', a dangerous sport in the Kingdom of Fariche that was usually frowned upon... At least if not endorsed by local arenas and Lords. This was not to say that the Lord Ingmar was particularly any good at the combat-sport (losing about as many fights as he had won) but one particular exchange had gone horribly wrong. Despite the name, the spars were often times fought to a surrender or conceited due to injury, but very rarely was a life taken and so abruptly as Lord Ingmar's. Reports came in that the noble had suffered a grievous wound and attempted to withdraw from the duel, only to be slain with his back turned as the assailant fled with the family sword. It was this that sparked Telrio into becoming a 'Duelist', a practitioner of the sport, and saw him fight in many tournaments and illegal sessions in hopes of finding his father's killer.

Hoping to cover his tracks, Telrio adopted a new name. 'Jorn Segundis', that's what people would begin to know him by. His training with the soldiers of his land had led to great success in this hobby, able to nimbly dodge his assailants and often outflank them for the victory. He was famous, you couldn't speak the name Jorn without some story of his latest exploits in the arena. It was this fame that brought to him the moment he had sought after his whole career... The showdown with his father's murderer. To Jorn, it was just another fight, a paid event by the Lords and Ladies of the capital city of Reinmarch to celebrate a bountiful harvest and booming economy. Personally invited, Jorn had no problem working his way up the tournament's ladder, dispatching foe after foe until the time came for the quarter finals.

Seven years since his father had passed, seven years since some coward cut him down... Who would've thought that the same bastard would be who he faced now. Though unsure at first, as the fight progressed there was something odd about the blade his opponent was using, and it was only after a successful parry that brought about the identity of the blade. A small shield insignia adorned with a rounded green gem that held a cameo of a weeping woman flanked by sentry towers... His family's crest upon his family's blade. In a fit of rage, he'd cripple the man with a strike to the back of his legs, causing him to fall to his knees as he lifted his open hands in surrender. That wasn't good enough, not for Jorn. So in a brutal display he toppled the man over with a knee to his nose, stood firmly upon his chest, and stabbed his helpless victim through the throat with his family blade.

Arrested and put on trial for the blatant disregard for the rules of the tournament and the murder of a fellow combatant, Jorn was set to rot away in prison. Though evidence hinted that this man was indeed his father's killer, without a confession there was nothing that could save the duelist from his fate. That is, until a rather well dressed official stepped forth. It was then that the 'Priest' offered a different solution, having the man exiled and forced into the service of the Sunlight Lance. He spun it in such a way that it would be considered mercy for Jorn, having served his country both in military service and publicity with his dueling. Though hesitant, the Council of Judges agreed, and so Jorn's fate was sealed.

Two years have passed since Jorn's conscription. Though somewhat annoyed by the bureaucracy, Jorn understands that the Lances are responsible for his continued longevity. So, faithfully has he served without question. And when the officers of the Lances came to offer a new job to the man, he answered the call without hesitation.

Personality:

Cynical and boastful, Jorn would come off as a pompous ass to those who had not known him. However, he adheres to a strict sense of morality and honor... Well honor among thieves anyways. He's been known to smuggle small baubles and trinkets from his missions, displaying them as trophies of his deeds. However, theft is the only grey area for the man, any other act of lawlessness is immediately frowned upon and berated by Jorn.

'I won't let you tarnish the name of our patrons. Act right, or I'll set you right.'

Still, he has his soft spots, helping the young initiates with their duties while doing his best to shepard them from acts that would cause problems for themselves or the order. Many have come around to calling him, 'Big Brother Segundis', just don't let him hear you call him that.


[Skills]
A:
B:
C: Reflex,
D: Throw, Stealth, Armor, Acrobatics, Weapon Proficiency (Sword)
E: Survival

[Equipment]
Sword
Light Shield (Armor E)
Medium Armor (Armor C)
Crossbow (10 bolts)
Smoke Bomb (x4)
Fire Bomb (x2)

[The_written_John]

[Name]

Jonathan McKenna

[Class]

Soldier

[Age]

20

[Gender]

Male

[Background]

Personality:

Jonathan is both a realist and a pessimist, years of bad luck and personal suffering have caused him to become ferociously dependent, craving the desire of safety, craving the desire to be loved, he is affectionate, loving and selfless, seeing himself as a maggot, a pest and a piece of dirt, he would gladly give his life for someone else, despite him greatly fearing the thought of dying. Despite his selfless attitude, Jonathan can be a control freak and rather demanding, fearful of being forgotten, fearful of being left behind, Jonathan tries for force scenarios to go a certain way, to aid him at times, unknowingly by himself, Jonathan deep down is a coward, and weak, and possesses a mass amount of self-loathing.

Appearance:

Standing at six feet and two inches tall, Jonathan is physically athletic but rather plump in appearance, a caucasian skintoned male having a set of long incredibly dark brown hair that reaches down his back, however tied near the back of the head into a ponytail, the hair is swept back neatly as a result. He also possesses a patch of hair reminiscent to that of a soul patch upon his chin. Despite his age, his facial features are reminiscent of that of a 15 year old, with less serious, innocent light blue eyes with his outfit consisting of a long sleeve pure white cotton shirt, with steel armour plating, a brown belt tied around his waist and a pair of armored steel leggings and boots. He also wears a fake silver necklace, a silver pendent attached.

Biography:

Jonathan grew up in a rather bustling and overcrowded city, a happy and optimistic young lad, possessing a slight learning disability when he was younger, however due to this minor setback, others would treat him differently, as he grew up, he found out that, he had no talent, no skills, no reason to exist, to top it off, as he grew up, the friends who he met over the course of many of his childhood years merely abused their relationship with him, living and being forced to manual labor almost broke the child, from his weakness, and the only allies he ever had took advantage of his pain, his emotions and his suffering, and played him like a fool.

As such, the child was sexually abused, kicked, beaten and forced into servitude for entertainment by richer families, which is own family could do nothing about, enslaved practically under those families as well, and for years he was emotionally and physically tortured. Between the ages of six and fifteen, they didn't see a human who was weeping and crying, just a broken toy who wouldn't entertain their narcissistic desires.

The child was also forced to fight for them, forced to hunt for their food, and forced to assist their forces to fight other noble families, all for entertainment of course, this helped to strengthen his bludgeoning arm... Something they would soon regret.

He however had one reason to continue living, there was another servant in their services who cared for his safety... however this friend had crushed the joy within his heart, the only one he could call his best friend didn't really care about what he felt or the struggles he has experienced, and merely abused his weakness to find ways for the masters to torture him further. He didn't even care, and turned his back on the weeping depressed male, punishing him to a life of true loneliness...

The event pushed him over the edge, and Jonathan while their back was turned, used a smithing hammer, and proceeded to slaughter his abusers one by one, four deaths. It didn't take long before he was relinquished of his weapon, beaten by guardsman and locked away. Luckily for him however, one had witnessed his mass rampage, a member of the Sunlight Lance... And his life was changed forever.

He would have been sentenced to the gallows to hang, but, through careful negotiations, the member of the Sunlight Lance, in exchange for his life, brought him into their ranks forever. Forced into the vampire hunting guild of the Sunlight Lance, Jonathan pondered if it was a blessing... or a curse. The Sunlight Lance were intrigued by his ferocious tenacity, and his skills when under stress, and sought to train him, and train they did. Jonathan felt more... at peace. For the next five years, he lived with the sunlight lance. Lived and felt like he was part of a true family. Though his own personal feelings about himself, never really changed, though his prowess in bludgeoning tools certainly improved, as did his desire to survive... He had no choice but to move on.

[Skills]

A:
B: Vigour
C: Armor
D: Weapon Proficiency (maces and hammers), Reflex, Awareness
E: Athletics, Discipline,
( Upgraded vigor - C to B, Armor - D to C, Awareness - E to D)

[Equipment]

War Hammer (Weapon D)
Medium Shield (Armor D)
Heavy Armor (Armor B)
Arquebus (10 shots)
Painkiller (x4)
Rumelian Ale (x2)
Grenade (x2)

[Lone Wanderer]

"Mine honour is my life; Both grow in one; Take honour from me and my life is done"

[Name]
Ser Angriff Kalstan
[Class]
Knight
[Age]
29
[Gender]
Male
[Background]
The son of Tavion Kalstan and Raina Kalstan, Angriff was raised to a life, most considered privileged. While peasants worked the land and fought in their lords name. Angriff lived a life with little want, at-least in his early years. His father was one such lord, governing his ancestral lands earned a hundred years ago through bloodshed and war with the vampires alongside the Fair Lady. The self proclaimed king taking rule over what the Vampires once ruled and rewarding those he deemed worthy with parcels of land. Angriff was trained and lived in a society of chivalrous conduct and warfare. He was trained in combat, to fight honorably and tutored how to govern ones land and taught an education, expected of one of his noble bloodline and station. For he was to become a lord. In a time where stories of knights during the war with the Vampires were commonplace, Angriff aspired to become such a Knight as the stories foretold. When he came of age, he was presented with a suit of plate by his father, forged intricately and clearly by the hand of a talented smith. This would be the armour that would allow Angriff to fight with chivalry and honour and to beat back the darkness.

However, all good things must end. With humanity swiftly turning against itself. With high society turning to war against one another over philosophy and the treatment of surfs. We was doing what the vampires could not do. Destroy us. Eventually, war found itself in the region controlled by family Kalstan. The people fed by ideals and seeing an opportunity, began to rebel in the region, inspired by the war across the kingdom despite the Kalstans rather fair treatment of it's surfs. Tavion ordered that his son and wife be smuggled out of the castle, while he and his knights stayed behind to defend the castle.

Angriff and Raina made their way to a neighboring region, t'was a hard journey, wearing on the both of them. Angriff bared the weight of the plate armour given to him by his father. The region they had traveled to was not yet reached by the war, nor would it be. Here, Angriff got his first job working as a scribe, setting the armour to one side as he made money to support him and his mothers living. After a few years had passed. His mother had died from plague that ravaged lands. With nothing else left, Angriff returned to Castle Kalstan to learn more about his father and his fate. Finding nothing but a heap of rubble and bones where the Castle once stood. Angriff, at that moment vowed to fight much like the knights of old. Donning the plate, he vowed to embody honour and chivalry in a land of turmoil. To fight the good fight and to bring to justice to those that ruined his ancestral land and any that preyed on the weak.

A few years of travelling the kingdom, rumors began to circulate about the travelling knight. These rumors are likely the reason that he would later be found by a knight of the holy order of the Sunlight Lance. Upon hearing the orders goals, Angriff pledged himself to their service and has remained ever since.

[Skills]
A:
B: Weapon Proficiency (Sword), Armor
C: Bravery, Vigor, Discipline
D: Ride
E: Speech
[Equipment]
Longsword
Heavy Shield (Armor C)
Massive Armor (Armor A)
Warhorse
Healing Draught (x3) - Speeds up recovery of bruises, cuts and broken bones.

[Voltus_Ventus]

finished product

Name: Zoltan Tamzarian

Class: Skirmisher

Age: 28

Gender: Male

Appearance: Zoltan stands about about 6ft 2inches tall and is fairly slim, not slim enough to be slight but not muscular enough to be bulky, one would almost go as far as lank but not quite, he's got enough muscle to heft his weapon effectively. He has a well rounded head, with soft slavic features and tinge of grubbiness to his white skin, his face lightly flecked with light freckles. On his head he has a thick brown hair, flattened haphazardly to his scalp due to the helmet he wears and large muttonchops on either side of his face. His eyes are discolored, one of the eyes (the right one) is the original brown whereas the other (left) is a venomous green, turned that way by the near hit magic of a witch, it also glows, casting a cone of eery green light.

The rest of his body is marred with scars and pocks and marks from run in's with unsavory types out on the open road, most notably a scar running from the top of his right shoulder blade going across diagonally before stopping at his left hip. 

When on the road or on a task, Zoltan wears his armor. It consists of a chainmail tunic with a firm patchwork hide vest over top and one large plate shoulder guard on his right shoulder, and a steel morion; around his neck he wears a blue and orange scarf, the colors of the lord he fought for. On his legs he wears hide chaps over his pantaloons and studded boots for good grip on surfaces. When not in combat, he wears a simple white tunic and removes his chaps.

Background:

Zoltan had never lead a privileged life, he was born to two parents who barely scraped by, farming the allotments of rich lords with too much land for just their serfs to work. From a young age he knew he wouldn't grow to be much, he lacked the vital substance that made important men important, he didn't have an education, nor did he have a title or wealth, he had nothing. Though one day he would lose everything and gain one thing.

He was working the fields with has ma and pa, the hot sun beating down on them when the lord of the borough came down from his castle on horseback, followed by his squires and stewards, he was fuming but Zoltan paid no attention to it, instead toiling in the earth. His father likewise wasn't paying attention, though now after the events of that day he developed a suspicion that his father was pretending to not pay attention. It seemed to be the case when the Lord stopped his horse in from of father.

His father gulped but did not look up, he knew what was coming to him. The Lord let loose a torrent of yells and the people in the field stopped to watch, the man was seething and his father just took it. Zoltan's mother held her only son and turned him around so he didn't have to see but Zoltan could hear. He heard the sword being drawn, the gasp of the workers and the gently thump of a body hitting the ground. He had a vague idea of what just happened, though it was reinforced by his mothers whimpers. The Lord rode off, without saying one more word. 

Zoltan's mother whispered in to his ear, "Walk forward and don't look back, Go home and pack your things." He did so, he didn't turn around as he walked, didn't turn around when he heard his mother howl in sorrow, nor when he heard the crowd of workers yelling and the sounds of stone started clanking off armor. He walked on.

Eventually his mother came back to their earthen hovel, her eyes red and her forehead bruised but otherwise unscathed. Wordlessly she went about the house and took everything of value, putting them all in a cast iron crockpot and tying it to her back. She took little Zoltan's hand and they left the hovel, they walked for days to the next borough and here, Zoltan found himself under the wing of senior squire. Zoltan had practiced hard and proved himself to be proficient in the thick of a fight but it seemed that, like he acknowledged when he was young, it would get him nowhere. He had no title and came from a lowly family of impoverished surfs, he couldn't be a knight, instead they made him a spearman and made him watch the stables. He resented them then, all of them but the squire that tried to help, this resentment made him bitter. He had to live with the weight of being robbed of his future because of what he was. 

Though his life is not only tragedy, he has had his victories and one such victory will remain with him forever.

A war had broken out in the kingdom, the Lords had turned against each other, two sides at each others throats like wild dogs. One side, wanted to give surfs the right to move from Borough to Borough and the other wanted them to be locked to their lords. The lord which Zoltan had found himself working for wanted the prior and thus rallied his men to fight in the nearest enemy borough, the borough that Zoltan had once called home.

They threw him like so many else as cannon fodder, so was the job of a spearmen, to be at the front of the line to face off the cavalry attacks. Wave after wave came after them and wave after wave of spearmen fell, accompanied by the shrill screams of dying horse and riders, thrashing in churned up soil and crimson blood. Eventually in was Zoltan and a few dozen left when the army stormed the keep and surrounded the Lord and his men. Upon seeing the man who had killed his father, Zoltan's blood boiled, he shouldn't have done what he did but he couldn't help himself. He pushed and shoved to the front of the line, where the Lord he was working for was passing his ultimatum to the rivals and lunged outwards with his spear, catching the enemy Lord in the neck. 

He was dishonorably discharged then, a light sentence considering he killed a Lord but harsh for only one act of insubordination.

From that point on, Zoltan felt he had achieved his goal and sunk into a rut of bad jobs and alcohol abuse, eventually he left town all together, leaving his savings in the hands of his mother and going out to wander the world. During his travels, he learned that fighting with a spear was harder without other spearmen by your side, so quickly he had to develop a solo method of fighting, more defensive and more brutal.

It was during one of these skirmishes that he became acquainted with the Sunlight Lance. He was on dire straights, running out of money and food, however he saw something that could save him, a caravan being attacked. He was hoping that if he helped fend off the raiders, they'd give him some money or at east something to eat. So he came in form behind and joined in the fighting, beating people back with his spear then stabbing at them with practiced ease. Upon the battle's end, he found that there was no reward for him, they thanked him and asked him if they would accompany them. He was under the illusion that at the end of their trip he would be payed, it turned out that instead he got more work. 

Though he is not officially part of the Sunlight Lance, he is often called on to help them fight, his low fees and good skills making him somewhat useful.

Skills:

A:
B: Reflex
C: Acrobatics, Weapon Proficiency (Spear)
D: Ride, Stealth, Armor
E: Survival

Equipment:

Spear 
Light Shield (Armor E)
Medium Armor (Armor C)
Crossbow (10 bolts)
Smoke Bomb (x4)
Fire Bomb (x2)

[Aphelion]

Azalea Crowe

By the Grace of the Fair Lady, let these Psalms I sing be heard by all. They shall uplift the holy and righteous, and cast down the unholy from whence they slithered.

[Name]
Azalea Crowe

[Class]
Priestess

[Age]
28

[Gender]
Female

[Background]
Azalea was born into the household of an esteemed seamstress and a simple blacksmith, her mother and father respectively. Countless noblewomen would come to her mother for the latest fashion they could adorn, while knights and townsguard came to her father for affordable and reliable repairs to their armor. Azalea lived a good life, which had it's minor ups and downs, most of them trivial in comparison to the suffering of other, less fortunate folk.

From her time among the noblewomen and their daughters, she learned the proper etiquette of nobility. She was a quick study, and often impressed the noblewomen with her well-refined manners. She was being carefully groomed into taking over her mother's seamstress business, yet something else stirred her heart.

The holy songs from the Cathedral drew her in, and she would go to listen to them with her face pressed up against the stained glass windows for hours. Priests and Priestesses would practice their Psalms within the holy walls and each sang within young Azalea's heart. Something about them felt right, and she found herself trying to mimic them out of awe.

It wasn't long before a Priestess found Azalea doing this and reprimanded the young girl for attempting the Psalms without proper training or a bloodstone. In response, Azalea simply said, "Well, might you train me then?"

That simple question changed Azalea's life. She became inducted into the Church at the young age of 9 years old, and studied under the Priestess who had found her. Her parents, while shocked at her sudden choice, were honored that their daughter could be counted among the Holy Church. Azalea's innocent personality faded away as she learned the darkest truths of the world.

It was from her teachings, day in and day out, that Azalea became determined to help heal this world. With a heavy heart, she bade the home she had known goodbye and entered into the Sunlight Lance.

[Personality]
Azalea is extremely refined and polite in her mannerisms and speech, and tries to keep a level head in even the most dire of situations. Though she can be snooty and slightly judgemental towards folk who have not walked the straight and narrow path as she has, she will not deny them aid. She believes to honor the Fair Lady she must extend a helping hand to all, no matter if she may disagree with what they've done, or how they behave.

She finds happiness in finding and reading new books. Each tome presents to her new knowledge and therefore a broader understanding of the world.

[Skills]
A:
B:
C: Faith, Willpower, First Aid, Speech
D: Discipline
E: Armor, Survival
(Upgraded First Aid - D to C, Discipline - E to D, Speech - D to C)

[Psalms]
"Be cleansed of injury and disease" - Heals target's minor injuries, such as cuts and bruises.
"There is no sanctuary for evil" - Detects supernatural creatures in 100 meter radius around caster.
"Surrounded by darkness faith shines brightest" - Creates a bright golden light from Bloodstone which illuminates area 30 meters in front of the caster, lasting 5 minutes.

[Equipment]
Bloodstone (9/10 charges) - Stores vampire blood. Bloodstone can hold up to 10 charges. You refill it by letting it touch the blood of a vampire.
Mace
Medium Armor (Armor C)
Healing Draught (x3) - Speeds up recovery of bruises, cuts and broken bones.
Bandages (x10)
Disease Cure (x3) - Cures natural diseases.
Disinfectant (x10) - Apply to open wounds to prevent infection.
Greta's Boon (x2) - A concoction whose vapor clears the mind and grants 1 rank increase to Willpower and Awareness. It also removes any effects of mind control. Lasts 2 updates.
Flaming Extract (x2) - Works only on undead. When weapon coated with this extract inflicts wound on a vampire it will slow down its regeneration.

[Quextamon]

Cataline Cassius CS

[Name]
Cateline Cassius

[Class]
Ranger

[Age]
26

[Gender]
Female

[Background]
Cateline was born into a small, loving family in a town surrounded by thick forests. Though the civic was quaint, it was a good place to be, for there was little oppression and interference from the governing lord of the land. As an only child for some time, Cateline grew introverted. She was quick to offer assistance to those who would teach her in return, but never received any formal education. Because of the involved network of socialization that the citizens had with her and each other, she learned to rely on other people who could compensate for the skills she lacked and flourished in temporary partnerships.

Always sneaking around the woods behind her grandmother’s house since she was a child, Cateline has become adept at blending in to her surroundings and traversing difficult terrain. On one of her longer ventures, she stumbled upon a bubbling creek bed. Near the sandy edge of this brook, an abandoned baby chick of a buzzard hawk was nestled in some of the vibrantly green underbrush of the trees. Cateline searched for the nest the bird had likely fell from overhead, but found nothing, and decided to help the creature. Beginning to dabble in first aid, Cateline restored the animal’s health and started to assist wounded people where her slim knowledge of medicine was enough.

Though she enjoyed being able to sooth the pain of others, Cateline soon found herself more interested in the active sport of bows and arrows, and her focus in life began to shift.

In her late teens and early twenties, Cateline began to study archery. Coming from a family lacking much esteem or wealth, she crafted her weapon and ammunition herself with the assistance anyone more knowledgeable than her would offer her and through trial and error. At first, she wanted to learn simply for the sake of protecting of herself and her small family, and to participate in friendly competition among other archers, but as time passed, her skills increased enough that she felt an obligation to do more than remain passive.

The final prompt for this change in her life came from the Sunlight Lance, who had recognized her skills and penchant for kindness at an archery tournament she had recently attended. Though she wrestled with the choice to leave the home she had lived in her entire life, her family urged her to join the organization, and she agreed to swear herself into the order. A fight for the greater good of humanity was more important than her own feelings or slim familial obligations.

Cateline does not like the sight of death and thus chooses a way of fighting that allows her to partially remove herself from the field, but she knows the work she does is invaluable in protecting civilization as a whole. This keeps her motivated more than anything. While she can be somewhat timid when it comes to interacting with other individuals, Cateline wholly believes in the work of the Fair Lady and in protecting those who cannot fight. Despite her accomplishments, she still struggles with feelings of guilt for leaving her family.

[Skills]
You can improve 3 skills by 1 rank, regardless of their rank.
A:
B: Weapon Proficiency (Bows),
C: Survival, Reflex, Stealth
D: Awareness, Hawkeye
E: First Aid

[Equipment]
Shortsword
Longbow (30 arrows)
Light Armor (Armor D)
Painkiller (x4)
Bandages (x5)
Disinfectant (x5)
Animal Companion (Hawk)

[Voltus_Ventus]

Disregard.