[CHAR] Mirror, Fox, Key

[needlingAsklepios]

Name: Novas Laquis (No-vas La-koys)
The Inventive Smith



The Art of Creation

There was little that Novas couldn't make. From door handles, to jewelry, to weapons of war and giant machines of destruction. As a child, he had learned that there was little he couldn't make, with the proper materials and a good imagination. He had always been in awe of the travelers, despite their reputation among the more upstanding citizens. There was little they couldn't do, and they always had tales of monsters and magic and the world beyond.... The thing that fascinated him most however, was the magic of creation. The ability to create items out of a material, such as ice or metal, with magic sigils and a few words.... Novas dreamed of learning more about this... Art of Creation.

Learning His Craft

Novas apprenticed under his father, working the smith from a young age. By the time he was 12, he was proficient in making most things, able to craft a sword, a spear, or even fashion a necklace from silver. His father was a great craftsman, but working the forge for 40 years was beginning to take its toll on the man. His father began to teach him more. Secret ways to remove impurities, special additives and processes to make the metals stronger or shinier. With his father's teaching, Novas quickly became a very influential blacksmith in the city, working the walls and reinforcing them.

The Approach of the Traveler's "Guild"

When he was twenty, Novas was running the shop alone. Both his parents had passed, and he had no siblings to speak of. No wife or child either. He would later figure it was this reasoning that the two masked men approached him. They entered his house and sat, speaking to him of a proposition. These men and their associates wished to create a specialized marketplace where travelers could find materials, items, and weapons that were restricted from the common folk. They wanted the travelers well equipped for some odd reason, which they chose not to disclose. What they did tell him was that they would pay him handsomely for one of a kind products. Novas knew that with these men, he would be able to come closer to his childhood dream, to discovering the truth of the Art of Creation, as he now referred to it. The magic of creating something out of something else. Novas agreed, and began to use his imagination and skill to craft special weapons, as well as odd devices. He was the first smith to create a rifled barrel, greatly increasing the accuracy of his firearms over his competitors. This discovery gave him a singular edge in the market, and he only sold these advanced weapons to the men from the "Traveler's Guild", and in this way, kept his design from being stolen while still making money from it.

Hope of Discovery

Four years passed since he had begun selling his wares to the guild. Now he saw his opportunity to go out. A traveler would be good protection, and would be a good source of knowledge. He had no ties here. No chances of ever moving forward, of ever finding his dream. At the age of 25, He gathered his most prized possessions, paid his home forward for the next ten years, (Thanks to the funds given by the Traveler's Guild) and headed for the gate. On his back was a backpack with some small supplies. Mostly things like a bedroll and flint and steel. He also carried with him several gun parts, including two of his specially designed barrels. One for a rifle, the other for a pistol. Nothing was assembled. however, between his body and the backpack hung a weapon that would have weighed down a weaker male. A brightly shining battle axe, the last, and best, weapon that Novas had ever forged hung in a specially made sling. "Shall we go then, Mountain Slayer?" He asked, ready to head out the wall and calling his axe by the affectionate nickname he had given the large weapon.

Pre IC edit list: Added a photo --- Changed weapons carried from a rifle and sword to a single axe with spare gun parts in his bag.

[jordy0403]

Name: Alexander (Alex) Haile

Abstract: A jokester militiaman with a habit of troublemaking and a drive for adventure.

Appearance: Short-ish brown hair, lightly tanned skin, bright blue eyes, almost permanent half smirk, light cloth/leather armour, sword, buckler shield, pistol and slung rucksack.

Details: Alex joined the Enn City Guard at the age of 16, 3 years ago, and patrolled Enn for that whole time without a promotion, most likely from the fact that he plays pranks on nearly everyone he meets. Despite this, he takes his job very seriously, never misleading or pranking someone while on duty. His weapons of choice are the sword, buckler shield and pistol.
Before he joined the guard, and even after, to some extent, Alex looked for adventure wherever he could, climbing buildings, sneaking into the kitchens, running down the alleyways, and more. Because of this, he is rather physically able, a good sneaker, and knows where and where not to take handholds.
His personal life was fine, healthy and caring parents, grandparents and siblings, nothing to worry about. He actually joined the City Guard so that his father wouldn’t make him a farmer, one of the most boring jobs in Enn, he thought.

[NorthernGR]

Name: Ronken Vusetten

Abstract: The all in one package deal, ladies.

Detail: When people think of Ronken, they think of victory. A man standing tall through the many adversities the city throws at you. When they look upon him, they feel pride, envy, inspiration, and for some, lust. Indeed, there were few as well liked as Ronken Vusettan.

Well, that's what he liked to think anyways.

In reality, the name Ronken was often muttered in the same breath as "Cheat, Brute, Idiot, Addict" and for good reason. He was a terrible cheat at poker, he solved more problems with his his fists than his mouth (And when he did use his mouth, it only caused more trouble), his booksmarts were as he put it 'below average', and yes he- may have a substance abuse problem. But he can quit anytime he wants!

When asked about his childhood Ronken's stories will vary from being raised in the wild by vampiric lycan to being the bastard son of the city's ruler. The truth is actually quite dull, like many of the denizens of Cogswall he was a street urchin. Where perhaps that may be an interesting tragedy or even make a good story at most bars, in Cogswall it was merely the norm. Normal was so boring, and Ronken was not a boring man. No, he'd need a much more exciting story.

Ronken made his livelihood with his own two hands, well fists more accurately. He was a fighter in "underground" fighting clubs. The Nobles knew full well about all the weird stuff the 'riffraff' got up to. They just let them have their fun so they wouldn't stir the pot.

Fine by him. He enjoyed fighting. In his eyes he was the best. And to be fair there was some merit to that. His ratio of wins to losses was quite impressive, and when it came to betting he was always smart money. Just don't believe him when he goes on a drunken rant about how he's 'invincible'.

As you've probably deduced Ronken hit the drink hard. When he wasn't fighting he was hitting up whatever bars he wasn't banned from. He'd drink from morning to night some days and still not quit. Half the time the only reason he'd leave was because he was kicked out for starting a fight. He uh, he liked fighting, if you couldn't tell.

Now at this point you probably think you know everything about the enchanting enigma known as Ronken. Wrong!

Ronken is a sampler of only the finest narcotics. Some of his favorites include; Happyroot, Cloudheart, and Sweet tooth. Before a fight, after a fight, during a fight, at a bar, at the toilet, Ronken is usually on something at some point. Some would call him an addict, he would call himself an enthusiast. He gets his goodies from a local gang called the Slum demons, who he may owe a considerable debt to. But Ronken's sure nothing bad can come of that, right?

In the end, as Ronken often puts it, he loves the finer things in life. A good and rough brawl whether its in a ring or at a bar, A drink stouter than his chiseled physique, and the latest in Cogswall's ever growing industry of narcotics.

[SgtEasy]

"A smuggler dealing with the transport of illegal goods between every part of the city and a part-time gigolo, Djandré is a man of profit."

---

Detail:
Djandré is the definition of a miser. His dreams and values are all based on greed and getting rich. He has no care for anything but money and is angered very quickly if he doesn't get what he want, usually killing poor innocents in the process of letting steam. His aggressive and greedy lifestyle makes him a true loner and if he wanted to, he would escape the city and set up a money profiteering empire. He is a boisterous and talkative man, he loves toying and annoying people. He is by no means stupid otherwise he would've been caught an age ago.

He is clever and know when to bribe, when to hide and when to just fuck shit up. He is hardheaded however and once set on a decision, you will never reach a compromise. He is tall, muscular and quite sadistic, enjoying as people squirm as he stabs his sword through their gut. He is known for his swordplay but is an absolutely terrible shot. As a trickster and a man of mischievous conduct, he has many faces and his fingers are in many deals. Currently, he walks as "Jordan Sparge", gigolo and the gentleman in the night, the personality he uses the most. A clever, seductive and humorous man, Jordan Sparge can be called the perfect man although it is all a lie made by some smuggler from the slums. Djandré made the character for the fun of it and the money a high-class gigolo can gain.

[Xionist]

Scarlet Grimmson

A callous youth who is always looking at the skies.

Scarlet Grimmson grew up as an orphan in a church replacing a father with the Father and mother with the Sister. Father Grimmson and Sister Lilac. Scarlet was found in a tattered old trunk with no note and no clue as to who had left him there in the first place. Sister Lilac was who had originally found him when she was arriving for the morning sermon. This was, of course, nothing new for the Sister as the church is well known for taking in any that the city has abandoned. Scarlet was accepted into the fold just as easily as any other child before him. It was Sister Lilac's idea to name him Scarlet after initially mistaking him for a girl and wishing to name him after his crimson irises. Here Scarlet grew up with his many brothers and sisters.

As the years passed by Scarlet eventually learned that the world outside the church was not as cozy and warm as Father Grimmson had told it to be many a time. To Scarlet the real world was a hard, gritty place where one had to pull down the other to survive. By the age of 10 he had practically stopped living at the Church all together. Instead he flourished in the streets as an urchin who wore nothing but the rags he could find and took anything that wasn't bolted down. Scarlet has had his fair share of hungry nights and bruises, however. The city had roughened up the perfect shell that the church wanted to mould and left Scarlet with nothing but hunger and the rags on his back. Only his pride keeping him from ever returning to the church.

When it comes to dealing with other people Scarlet isn't exactly considered to be very practical. He treats most with venomous glares and when he does actually feel like speaking it's never anything pretty or kind. Insults flow from his lips just as easily as curses which not only keeps the adults from treating him fairly but also drives away his fellow urchins. No gang wants a kid who can't listen and refuses to respect anyone around him. On his own, though, Scarlet is always looking up at the skies wondering just what it'd be like to be one of the birds that inhabit it. More than once he's caught himself daydreaming about soaring above the clouds free from all the restrictions of the world. If he had half the chance he'd never come back down to the ground where there's naught but blood and dirt.

[chukklehed]

NAME: Feela

APPEARANCE:
Feela is 5'6 with jet black, shoulder length hair, piercing blue eyes and dark, heavily tanned skin. She wears rough, homemade clothing fashioned from animal leathers and bones

ABSTRACT: A wild-child demon hunter

DETAIL: Feela was born into a small, isolated tribe in the wilds, knowing nothing about larger civilization. Her mother was a clothing maker for the tribe, and until she was 12 she was supposed to follow the same path. That was when her mostly peaceful tribe was attacked by a larger, more savage one looking to expand their territory. Feela's entire tribe was massacred, every man woman and child slaughtered, except for herself and the tribe's shaman. The shaman was an old woman, the founder of the original tribe after she had been banished from her own. Despite her peaceful ways, she had been raised and trained by a tribe of demon hunters, and still remembered all their traditions well enough to keep the invaders at bay long enough to escape with the only person she could find alive.

Now alone with a child to protect, and knowing she wouldn't live forever, the Shaman fell back on her old teachings to prepare the child for the world. She emulated her own teacher's harsh physical training, pushing Feela to her absolute limits day after day. She transferred the Hunter Sigils inscribed on her own flesh to Feela, teaching her to use each by thrusting the child into danger. For six years Feela's life was nothing but learning and training, until suddenly it wasn't anymore. Like all living things, her teacher's life came to an end, finally succumbing to her frailty at the age of one hundred and four. The last thing she ever taught her student was never to trust another person, since they all had reasons to betray others. With those final words, the Shaman closed her eyes for the final time, leaving her student truly alone in the world.

MAGIC:

Mantis Blade Sigil - A sigil on the back of the right hand which creates a blade of light from the hunter's fingers.

Tortoise Shell Sigil - A sigil on the back of the left hand which creates a shield of light dependent on the user's will.

Hawk's Wing Sigil - A sigil on the lower back that flings the bearer with force. The direction and strength of the flight depends on the will caster.

Owl's Eye Sigil - A sigil under the right eye that enhances the user's vision and allows them to see in the dark.

Gecko's Paw Sigil - A sigil on the back of the neck that allows the user to climb any surface. The more weight they are carrying, the more energy this takes.