[CHAR] Stories from Idumea: Children of Avveel

[BytheSpleen]

Lyra

Name: Shteivel / "Lyra" Leevva
Age: 45
Gender: Female
Race: Pure Mountain Elf
Shteivel is the child of two artificers of enchantments, who were both exiled and later assassinated for making enchantments that would steal the magic potential from Mountain Elves specifically.

Nature: Lyra is quite a motherly individual, to the point where she almost coddles her comrades. She brings stricture and order to any sort of lodging, but is extremely susceptible to fall for seemingly vulnerable things. She's rather easy to trust (as she easily trusts just about anyone), provided no one's taking advantage of her kindness...

Looks:

Lyra would be, by the hedonistic standards of lords and ladies with the time to spare, a beautiful creature to pry apart at with one's eyes. She stands at a comfortable 5'6, which isn't too terribly tall nor short, except for the fact that people usually think she'd be a half-elf. She weighs 125 lb., which explains her rather average (but again, comfortable!) curves. Despite her given age, her face seems devoid of wrinkles and blemishes - a sign that the beginning of her near-eternal clock has begun to tick.

She is slightly bow-legged, which slightly causes her hips to naturally spread a little wider, and like all elves, she has tipped ears. Her hair, like most Mountain Elves, is a flaxen hue so devoid of color it may be likened to the unpicked grains of wheat in the winter. Her hair is usually tied in a skewered bun or a loose bun, whichever works better. Her eyes are quite beautiful and gentle, as her irises are an incredibly soft and matte powder blue. They are so matte that they refuse to shine sunlight, but instead leave only an ever-soft color to lose one's self in. Her skin is deathly pale with a soft pink twist, as her rigorous mountain-side lifestyle has breathed at least a small burst of life into her cheeks (which are, most times, quite thin). She has slim lips and a cute button nose to boot.

Her only adornment is a brilliantly blue earring on her left ear. A tattoo of what appears to be half of a gear fans out from her tailbone, though what purpose it serves is unknown.

Class: Necromancy
Lyra is a genius at necromancy, especially in the art of manipulating corpses to do her bidding. However, she isn't a terribly skilled spiritualist, which means it's harder for her to talk to spirits and clearly make out their requests and contracts. That's why she refuses to sign any, and instead relies on her own power, which includes death rays alongside her manipulation of corpses.

Story:
Shteivel was once part of the highest of the Mountain Elves, via her family. Most of the people who lived up on the peaks were master artificers; the Leevvas were no exception. Their trade was the enchantment of various objects, and so they were renowned even among the Mountain Elves as among the most precise enchanters of their time. Clocks, compasses, and other instruments of measurement gain unparalleled accuracy. Industrial saws were strengthened to outlast even the most well-maintained of swords. It become a point of controversy : that the Leevvas began to dabble in innovations, not improvements. Strange tools, though far inferior to that of the magic-imbued instruments, were produced and made cheaply, as they were powered by the sun. For a time, the Mountain Elves enjoyed this dubious technology...only to realize that an entire generation of their children were talentless - stripped of magic.

The one thing the Mountain Elves could call their strength was briefly taken away : magic. These tools did not capture the sun's light for power - they ripped the futures from the wombs of children unborn. Thus, borne in a time of uncertainty and fear was the Vile Generation. The weak ones were tossed and disposed of; the stronger ones, however, were exiled and sold into slavery.

Shteivel, the first of the Viles, was kidnapped and processed into this system as her parents were obliterated by angered parents. She was 10 then. In this system, she was subject to hard labor and plenty of types of abuse, until she was picked up by no less a half-breed wizard for cheap coin, and became his test subject, apprentice, liason, and eventually confidant. Her final labor, which happened 6 years into her servitude of the wizard, was one last experiment, one that would scar her forever. She was to bind a spirit into her womb, so as to lock it inside the fetus, and then raise it as a conduit for immense magical power. Only, this attempt was futile.

Although she did learn how to perform magic to an uncannily powerful extent, there was something inside her, a void that originated from her stolen power. The spirit rejected and fled Shteivel, and tore her from the inside out.

She awoke, weeks later, as a girl without any possibility to bear children, thanks to her incredibly warped womb. As part of the contract, she was christened "Lyra" as a free woman, though without a future, all things considered...except for what she was taught : necromancy.

Life had other plans, and she ended up tutoring aristocrats' children when she was 40. The time in between that change is best left in the dust.

Motive: Will PM.

[Lord Santa]

Name: Steven Steelfist

Age: 17

Gender: Male

Race: Human

Nature: Steven’s rather stoic, but he’s hardly unemotional. Despite being carefree, he’s also practical and tends to be simple. Steven tries not to overcomplicate things. He can be fairly stubborn and petty, however, though it doesn’t seem like it. Nevertheless, he doesn’t hold grudges and typically does whatever needs to be done, even if he usually doesn’t do anything else. He’s the kind of guy who doesn’t set his mind on much, but when he does, he goes all the way, and he’s adaptable enough to make it work.

Looks: Steven sports black hair and dark eyes, and at first glance, his features have little that are distinct about them. He’s slightly taller than average, and his build is a little bigger. His expression is usually neutral and rarely changes. However, if you look deeper into his eyes, then you realise that he actually doesn’t really care about a lot of things, bringing about a certain air of calmness which translates to his body language.

Steven is currently wearing his normal clothes and is wielding his dad’s halberd, as well as carrying stuff in a backpack and lugging around his dad’s old plate armour. Looks heavy, but it isn’t to Steven.

Class: Farmer/knight/juggernaut, kinda. Let me explain.

Practically from the first time he could walk, Steven was trained to help out on the farm. And then, after a little of that, he was taught how to fight from his dad. He learned knight skills and built up his strength in order to use them effectively should the situation call for it. Over his lifetime, Steven’s managed to build up an uncommon amount of endurance and strength, enough to carry almost anything unencumbered, though this isn’t purely because of his upbringing.

Story: Steven’s story begins with his father. Steven’s father was a relatively successful knight famed for his endurance on the battlefield. He rose up the ranks to be quite a respected knight, but decided to settle down with Steven’s mother and return to his roots. Buying a sizeable property, he began tilling the soil like he did in his youth.

Steven was born as part of 8 siblings. 4 sisters, 3 brothers, though Steven was the oldest son (not oldest sibling, mind). As such, he got trained for the sword stuff first. He kind of just accepted it, as none of his other siblings really wanted it, mainly to spare his dad’s feelings. In all honesty, Steven just wanted to live life for a while, doing stuff. Not really anything specific, just stuff.

His life passed rather uneventfully for a while, until…

Motive: The announcement came! His dad couldn't take the call (old wounds and stuff) and the rest of his siblings weren't really ideal so Steven decided to shoulder it by himself. The way he figured it, his dad would be pretty happy, and it wasn't like he was doing anything else with his life. And besides, seeing stuff he’d never seen couldn't be a bad thing, right?

[nrtashi]

Name: Elisha Veer
Age: 22
Gender: female
Race: Human
Hailing from warm, southern lands where people are naturally more dark-skinned then their northern brethren.

Nature: A kind heart, ready to reach out to those in need, sometimes even at the expense of her own immediate self-interest. She doesn't like seeing innocent people get hurt, and holds altruism and noble "effort"(understood as self-sacrifice) as the highest virtue. And what higher kindness can there be, how better can she protect the good humans and non-humans of this world, if not by eradicating the evil lurking in the shadows?

Yes, this world is full of corruption, vice, depravity, ever-threatening the well being of innocents and sometimes, even very existence of Idomea. During her rigorous training in the Monastery she was taught the value of self-restraint and temperance. Righteous must be ever vigilant and ever observant, else the evil will go unnoticed and unpunished. She rarely speaks more then it is necessary, and she's always wearing an artificial smile to mask her true thoughts and emotions- a veil to cloud the minds of corrupt so to speak..or a shield to give courage to the innocent.

She also speaks with a slight, yet discernible accent, which marks her as foreigner in these lands.

Looks: Standing at 5'4 she's rather on the "short" end of the spectrum- especially compared to other warriors, most of whom are male and often, a foot or two taller then herself. Her short height and female gender sometimes makes a potential employer question her ability, especially if she's visiting someplace new where they didn't hear about her or her Order.

Like most southern people, she has an easily distinguishable tanned skin and sharp, edged facial features. What differs Elisha from her brethren, though, is her hair color-while most of her brethren are black, even "raven"-haired, she is a natural blonde-a sneaking suspicion that her ancestors might have been immigrants from the north. She usually keeps it no longer then at jaw-lenght, so that it won't interfere during combat.

First and foremost, she's a swordfighter, but she's also been trained in basic martial arts, wrestling and crossbow shooting. Her sword, like most of her order's equipment, is a masterwork of it's kind, forged deeply in the halls of the Monastery by expert blacksmiths who devote all their lives to the art and duty of crafting the finest equipment for the warriors of the Guardian.

Under the long, brown cloak, Elisha's wearing a studded leather armor, preferring it's relative lightness to heavy plate armors or chainmails usually associated with Paladins. Because she's working alone, and often, traveling alone, she can't afford not to be flexible.

Class: A warrior hailing from a Cult of Guardian Rose, a southern off shot from the main religion, that emphasizes physical combat as a best way of crusading against the evils of this world-with a strong emphasis on resisting, detecting and eradicating supernatural corruption, such a demons, undead, black magic....Famed for it's Paladins, who's mission is to travel the world, either alone or in small groups, working as mercenaries for the righteous causes and eradicating evil whenever encountered. However, sword and might alone often fail against magic-therefore, these warrior monks are trained in the art of Detecting and Resisting magical enchantments, psychic manipulation, and all other forms of body and mind altering powers that they might encounter. Elisha's abilities are especially potent against magically infused weapons and objects-both in the terms of recognizing such items and resisting their influence. This, however, has it's price-using such objects herself gives her physical pain, and might even be lethal in the long term. That's why she doesn't use any enchanted weapons or armors, nor potions, nor anything that might have even a slight drop of magic in it. All such items are extremly rare anyway.

Story: Like most Paladins of this particular Cult, she has been sent off to Monastery-a huge, training complex serving also as Guardian Rose's HQ- at the age of 10. It wasn't a sad occasion-the locals hold the cult in the highest esteem and both she and her family were proud that Elisha has been selected as a potential recruit. There, she received a rigorous training in fighting-chosing a sword as her weapon of choice-strategy, Paladin's magic and anti-magic arts, literature, history and geography. And of course, a religious education in the spirit of this particular theological doctrine.

Unfortunately, she never saw her family again. Around two years after she left, her village was devastated by a plague, and everyone died. She was it as a divine omen -God, the Guardian, saved her life for greater purpose. Ever since then, she's been training her hardest, and when the day of graduation came several years later, she was on top of her class in almost all disciplines, hailed a prodigy and offered a rank and place in one of their famed mercenary corps.

However, Elisha refused, explaining that her calling is to travel the world alone. In fact, she was just sick of all the pompous formality surrounding her comrades and superiors-and feared that either she or the cult lost it's way. So she left, and like many other like minded Paladins, she traveled the North, enlisting as a mercenary, a sword-for-hire or an investigator, learning, observing, growing in character. Sometimes as a warrior of the Guardian Rose, sometimes incognito. However, during these years of adventuring, she always kept to the moral code that has been drilled into her along with the knowledge of the sword, and never stained her hands with the blood of the innocent- something not all of her friends can proudly admit to. Not long ago, she's met one of her classmates back from her training days-and to her disgust, discovered that she's now a renegade, a mage killer for higher. Their branch of faith does not condemn all magic-just the branches labeled as "evil"-and thus, killing all and any mages for anyone willing to pay was a heresy, and a betrayal of the order's most basic principles. And so, around 5 years since she left homeland, Elisha found herself traveling back south in order to report this and other disturbing news from the northern lands....

Motive:...when she was contacted by the messenger of King Gonagas...and given how Helsset is on the way south, decided to get sidetracked for her last quest.

[Baklava]

Name: Abel Abramsen
Age: 24
Gender: male
Race: Albmot (dwarf and dark elf)

His origin springs from a love story that is wordlessly fawned over by some and blatantly spat at by most in Abel's small dwarven village, where he lives with his father, Anton. His mother, to him, is nothing but a mysterious storybook character. His father was always one to exaggerate when he told stories, so he doubts that very much of what his father has told him about her is true. Abel’s father is well known throughout the village as a humble, hard working, and good-humored dwarf.

His reputation was obviously tarnished when he returned one day from a long, arduous trading expedition with a pale, feeble looking child in his arms (feeble meaning he wasn’t nearly as stocky and strong looking as most dwarven babes). Anton had always been Abel’s saving grace, however. Abel had it in his mind that the only reason they tolerated him at all was because of how well liked his father was—as well as how fun it was to crack jokes about how the only reason his mother fell for him was because she likely had a blindfold on.

Nature:

Abel is a very independent young albmot who, weathered by years of upturned noses that were a good foot or two below his own, has grown accustomed to a life of solitude. This forced isolation has never stood in the way of his desire for companionship, however. Abel is very outgoing and inherited much of his father’s good humor. He is perhaps a bit egotistical at times, but has never bruised easily- at least not on the inside. He possesses a sharp wit to match the sharp senses he inherited from his mother. Never quite impressed with the ridiculous stories surrounding “how the dwarves came to be” Abel is agnostic and can, at times, be quite cynical.

Looks:

Abel stands at a very “human-like” height of 5’7”, quite stuck between his tall mother and his father, who could just barely get away with calling himself 5’1”. Abel has pointed ears that seem a bit dulled in comparison to the few pure elves he’s seen. He has light brown hair that is often tied at the nape of his neck in a short pony-tail with almond shaped eyes that are a light grey-green color. Although it was a term he was accustomed to hearing back home, Abel is by no means scrawny. He stands on a good middle ground. He isn’t nearly as strong as some, but knows how to take a hit as well as return the favor. (That being said, mindless competitions of brute strength have never been very appealing to Abel. He prefers to think his way out of most situations.)

Class: Summoning

Extra

Being the “filthy mixbreed” that Abel is, friends were not a luxury he found himself in possession of. When he was 7 years old, Abel witnessed a young human mage summon a small beetle-like spirit just outside a shop he and his father were purchasing supplies from a few towns over. The boy extended a small hat to the crowd as the tiny beetle stood on two legs and spit fire into the air in the shape of a circle. Some members of the crowd stopped and dropped coins into the child’s hat. Others stopped to ruffle the boy’s hair and commend him for being such a skilled summoner at such a young age.

He immediately told his father of what he had witnessed. His father, being the kind hearted man he was, supported the idea and bought him several books to train with over the coarse of several years. At first, his desire stemmed from impressing the other dwarves with what a powerful summoner he would be. It wasn’t until his first summon, when he was 11 years old, that he learned the true value of the skill. He couldn’t make friends… but he could summon them.

Abel has made pacts with four different spirits thus far:

--Pavel (wood) : A Chinchilla spirit. Abel’s first and weakest summon. He is completely useless in battle.
--Ruuti (wood) : A Maned Wolf spirit. He is very versatile and attacks quickly.
--Tiburtius (soil) : A Massive Mountain Lion. He is very strong and very stubborn. By far, Abel’s most abrasive summon.
--Selin (water) : A Massive Vanilla Python. She is the largest and most powerful of Abel’s summons. Abel has only recently acquired Selin.

Story:

Abel grew up in a small dwarven village whose name he would never dream of providing to a newcomer should he be forced to explain how dreadfully puny and crude it was. He spent his childhood days exploring the nearby forest with imaginary friends and eventually some of his summoned spirits.

He had virtually no friends growing up, although he often thinks of a dwarven girl named Abbygail whenever he thinks that to himself. His father was quite certain the girl, who was only a year or two younger than Abel, had a massive crush on him. She once left a batch of flat, rock-hard homemade cookies on his porch for his 6th birthday. He actually chipped one of his teeth while attempting to eat it. Later that day he took them to a nearby pond and skipped them on the water. Every year after that, the cookies reappeared, growing less hard and “skip-worthy” by the year.

By the time he turned 18, he actually looked forward to receiving them. That was the year he found the cookies stomped and smashed outside the door. Later that day he’d spotted her crying behind some crates in the market place with mud all over her frizzy red hair. He left her alone.

When he wasn’t out exploring (something he often got the opportunity to do with his father being the local traveling trade merchant), he had his nose deep in a book. Knowledge was not an attribute that dwarves tended to emphasis and Abel gave up on trying to fit in at an early age. He was more-or-less an obedient son, if not a bit lazy when it came to helping out at times. He and his father tended to keep to themselves when they were around each other. They connected on very few levels. Abel never had much interest in learning how to arm wrestle or down 10 gallons of ale in under 30 minutes without barfing.

In spite of his filling the role as the village outcast, Abel refers to his childhood as being an overall pleasant one. He doubts he would have enjoyed spending time with the dwarves even if they had accepted him with open arms. He never imagined he would be staying in the dwarf village his whole life- not when there were so many other places to go.

Motive: Abel’s father has passed away. With no further reason to stay in his dreary little dwarven village, Abel feels he must move on to bigger and better things. He considers himself to be a very adept young summoner and figured the King would be overjoyed to have him among his ranks. As he turned around for one last glance at his poor excuse for a home, he spotted little Miss Abbygail standing at the village gate with a small white handkerchief pressed beneath her big, rosy round nose.

[Shikaru]

Name: Illumina Nightblade

Age: 20

Gender: Female

Race: Human

Nature: Cunning and stealthy, she'll stab you in the back, literally and figuratively and rob your corpse. Growing up on the streets she doesn't trust people, not really trust anyway. She'll pretend to trust you until she gets what she wants.

Looks: Long brown hair covering her right eye, blue eyes. She wears a skin tight leather suit along with a black tattered cloak. On her back is a sheath for her switchsword,two normal length Falchion blades co-joined by a iron peg.

About her waist is a belt with a small dagger sheath on either side housing 6 inch dangers. Clipped to one side of the belt is a claw, used to grapple up walls and the like. Various bottles of poisons line the belt as well for her to dip her daggers in.

She is 5'7 with an athletic build, a scar running down her left cheek beginning at the eye.

Class: Assassin.

Story: Ever since she could remember she was alone having to fend for herself, no one she could trust, no family, no friends. She took to a life of stealing to get by, of course at first she wasn't very good at it and got caught more times than she suceeded.

Over the years she got better, stealth became her friend and only true ally. She lurked in the shadows, robbing those that passed by. Eventually she grew bolder and began robbing houses and shops, word got around to the underworld about a popular new thief.

She began accepting jobs to steal certain things, eventually taking on missions of assasinations. Of thus she was highly skilled. Until she heard the decree, goodbye petty change, hello kingdom treasury.

Motive: To get in good with the King and steal everything not nailed down, even possibly steal from the others that decided to take up this little request.

[Jozarin]

Kristan Saillis

Name: Baroness Kristan Detot Saillis
Age: 32
Gender: Female
Race: Human

Nature: Kristan is studious, having dedicated her life to the study of the forces. She has great loyalty towards her liege, and her people.
Looks: She is good looking for her age, with pale skin and long, dirty blonde hair. She usually dresses in gowns, with the mantle associated with her office as court magician. When she expects to enter combat, she wears a simple tunic with hose.
Class: Magician
She has long studied the arts of alchemy and summoning, in an effort to understand the forces that guide the world.

Story: She was born into the barony of Saillis, having a good education. She was married to the neighbouring baron of Zerillet, and their daughter is now 15. She took particular interest in the arts of magic, and after her marriage, she took up residence as the court magician in the court of the Count of Selrith. She has yet to make a covenant with any spirit, but she has much academic knowledge, giving advice to her liege and her husband in arcane matters.

Motive: She came at her lord's orders, to learn practical magic, and to win glory for the count.