[CHAR] A Prized bride (The return)

[agentmanatee]

Character Template

Name here

Race:
(input here)
Age:
(input here)
Element(s):
(Drakkens's two and Gem's One)
Height:
(input here)

Bio:
(The bio doesn't have to long, as I like developing the character and their background as the rp goes. But you can write as much as you like.)Other:
(input here)

OOC: You are welcome to customize the above character sheet :)

We will be matching Brides to their Lords in OOC before starting the RP. That way we can skip the long introductions and get to playing.

This is a list with everyone with one bride so far. Some of you may get another bride later, so no worries all brides will be used.

Pairings so far

Lugft Huron: Aerienna Cassiel and Atallia Faeron
Zakroti Unalim: Aymiria Cassiel and Kasari Liesma
Cuwarr Naxremis: Sorici Amberra and Kalani Solle
Kaivor Igvrius: Onyx Briyll
Azilon Dantanath: Aelia Snowblood
Rynek Darion: Lienna Orhhneaht
Siadamkiru Beneni: Unnamed air gem played by Libby
Exon Xe’Jah: Nadia Parnel and Saisri Tyalanthe

[agentmanatee]

Lugft Huron

Lugft Huron

Appearance

Along with black hair

Race: Drakken

Age: 213

Height: 7'10

Elements
Fire and Earth

Bio
Born to a prominent drakken family, Lugft was originally thought to be small and weak as he grew slower than most other Drakken. But, he compensated by having possibly the shortest fuse in existence and being one hell of a fighter. A beast on the battlefield, even among Drakkens he is often seen as a brute. However, he can put on airs of grace if he must, though he is never truly civilized. He is also a fan of trophies, and his manor is bedecked with helmets, weapons and other trophies. His most prized trophies however, are his bride(s), showing them off in only the finest of anything. But, he is still far from a kind man, as he is war mongering, quick to anger, and intensely stubborn.

In recent years he became the head of his house in spite of being the fourth son due to the wishes of his father, who died under mysterious circumstances whilst at war 3 years ago. It is his third time needing brides as he still lacks heirs, he has gone through 4 Gems and each have died before they could give birth. He snapped the first ones neck on accident when drunk, and the c second died from falling off her horse during a hunt he insisted she come on. The last two committed tandem suicide in Lugft's bed while he was away, their guards were flayed alive for their failure.

He is also known to not fight like regular Drakken. After a campaign in a strange northern country he returned with a man in chains, who taught him in a different martial art based around a segmented pike that folds up when not in use. The compact weapon is used only by Lugft, and he is quite good at meeting out brutal death with the exotic weapon.

Other: Has been known to wear clothing and armor that exposes his bear chest

[Vesuvius00]

Nadia Parnel

Nadia Parnel

Race:
Gemminite
Age:
18
Element:
Fire
Height:
5'4"

Bio:
Nadia's parents were both Fire Gemminites who lived and raised her in a woodland cottage a little ways away from any towns or cities. They preferred the calm solitude that life in the woods offered as opposed to the busy life of a townsperson, and the relative safety of living like this. Her father worked as a merchant and so was away often, trading around the country, while her mother was a seamstress. Nadia eventually picked up the skills of both her parent's trades, learning how to make deals with people and how to make basically anything needed for the home that could be done with a needle and thread.

Nadia grew to be shy and nervous around other people at first, but good-natured enough that she would make friends easily. She didn't spend much time in town, but she was known around as a kind, well-mannered girl. She was taken in a reaping that was happening during a visit into town with her father, when a Drakken who was collecting another girl decided that she was a better catch.

Other:
Though her element is fire, it doesn't seem to reflect in her personality as much as it does others of her element. She is shy and contains her thoughts and emotions very well, she does not call attention to herself on purpose and excels at blending in, at least among Gems. She is kind and gentle towards others, but also very fragile, both mentally and physically- she's afraid to use her power around other people. If someone were to say that Fire Gems are like a campfire or a blazing torch, then Nadia is a lit candle on a calm night.

Dress

Onyx Briyll

Onyx Briyll

Race:
Gemminite
Age:
18
Element:
Earth
Height:
5'9"

Bio:
A librarian's daughter, her mother died when she was too young to remember, and her father was always busy with work around the city's library, so she was pretty much on her own for most of her childhood. With nothing else to do whenever she got bored, she taught herself how to read. She soon fell in love with the fictions she found, mysteries and adventures all just waiting to be read, feelings and images expressed on paper. She spent as much time as possible in the library, and that's where she was when the Drakkens came for her, lost in a fantasy. She didn't fight being taken at all, but only made one request- that she be allowed to bring her favorite book with her.

Other:
Onyx likes wordplay and writes poetry in her free time, her knowledge of books and fantasy making her very imaginative and childish when she wants to be. This fluidity of emotion and imagination makes it easy for her to come up with ideas and plans on the fly, and she's pretty good at lying too. She pictures herself as if the heroine of one of the novels she loves so much, and her confidence could be her downfall.

Dress

Zane Parnel

Zane Parnel

Race:
Gemminite
Age:
34
Element:
Fire
Height:
5'11"

Bio:
Zane is a merchant, just as his father was, and his father's father before him. He's also a part of a group that is pretty much convinced that the Drakkens will eventually make war on their peaceful country, a cult of sorts. His home -where he lives with his wife and their only child, Nadia- is just one part of a vast network of underground, hidden pathways and safe places which the cult uses to get around unnoticed, and could use to evacuate whole cities if needed. Zane himself is a messenger and a fighter for the group, using his travels as a merchant as a way to get across the border into other countries (mostly Drakka) and obtain information.

Other:
Zane's personality is a little unpredictable, though he is very good at keeping up an act. He is good at manipulation and negotiating deals. He has the fighting ability of the average member of the cult, though his role is much more subterfuge. His family doesn't know anything about the cult at all.

[darkwolf687]

Zakroti Unalim

One could not find a less impressive looking Drakken if they were given a lifetime to search. Easily 6 inches shorter than most Drakken with short, stubby horns which he commonly covers with a hood or helmet, apparently out of shame. His build is also far less imposing and his arms far thinner than those of his taller brethren, lacking the same degree of muscle when compared to other drakken. At a glance one could be forgiven for not realising he was one of the Drakken and perhaps merely an extremely muscular if dull looking Gem. However, those seemingly mundane brown eyes hide a burning lust for power, supported by an expertise in military strategy and a sound grasp of how to weave his elemental powers into combat. The darkest creatures of the blighted south would be hard pressed match his brutality. - Description of Zakroti Unalim as given by a Gem Representative

Zakroti Unalim "The Usurper"

Race:
Drakken
Age:
72
Element(s):
Fire, Earth
Height:
5'11

Bio:
Zakroti was easily identifiable as a runt upon his birth and in accordance with the wishes of his father, Orstaki Unalim, was to be left out to die in the elements. His mother managed to placate his father and convince him not to have the baby put to death.
His father abhorred him growing up and he was routinely looked down upon by his taller siblings, indeed Zakroti existed as a blot in his immediate families gaze. Outside of his immediate family, his other relations did not care much for him as he was simply another nephew or grandson and were it not for his remarkably small stature he doubted any would even remember his name.

His small size was and in many ways still is a source of humiliation for him and as a child he was only able to take solace in his mothers presence. She was one of the very few members of his family to show him any kindness and he was understandably devastated by her death despite her position in Drakken society being little better than a concubine.

On his 15th Birthday Zakroti led a small force of Drakken warriors across the border into the territory of a foreign peoples and sacked two small towns, returning with nearly one hundred and fifty slaves. The fledgling lord sent them off to his father as a gift. Grudglingly, his father acknowledged the achievement and granted the boy the holding of Mu'Fanla, a small fortress situated in the otherwise barren mountains to the south of his families holdings. Although this was somewhat impressive for a first military achievement, given that few expected to see him in any form of leadership role at any point in his life time and certainly not so young, he first rose to true prominence during a conflict in the western lands, in which he saved the life of a prominent noble and was gifted the holding of Mu'Kasi, a large fortress situate overlooking the pass out of Drakka and into the neighbouring territory. Zakroti exacted a toll on armies passing through and raised considerable funds from this, which drew the ire of several nobles.

Mu'Kasi was eventually levelled after the toll fees offended a particularly ill tempered noble, which resulted in a retaliatory campaign that culminated in a six month siege; The lord agreed to pay for the reconstruction of Mu'Kasi and Zakroti has been careful to ensure that it has a considerable garrison at any given time. By this point, a number of Drakken nobles and even a handful of members within his family had begun to see Zakroti's potential as an ally.

At age 50 an opportunity presented its self that Zakroti could not ignore; His father had fallen out of favour with the family and the king and, as such, Zakroti seized the chance and met in secret with a number of family members and Drakken nobles to hatch an insidious plot

With all the pieces on the board set, Zakroti challenged his father to honourable combat. As expected, his father refused; Consequently, Zakroti led a force of Drakken and mercenaries to sacked his fathers estate, winning in spite of the fact that his army was outnumbered two to one. The young lord had his father thrown into an oubliette where he allegedly remains to this very day.

Zakroti claimed dominion over his fathers lands and vassals by right of conquest and alleged that his father had refused to fight him out of cowardice. This was upheld by the family court which ruled in favour of Zakroti, though not out of any love for the young lord himself but rather so as to avoid invalidating a right of conquest claim that the family's head was pursuing; His father had already fallen out of favour after refusing to commit his forces to a war effort two years prior and so this was considered to be an acceptable trade. Further, two key family members with positions in court had been amongst those who conspired with Zakroti to bring about his fathers downfall.

A considerable number his siblings refused to accept the leadership of their runt of a brother and openly rebelled against him and by extent the ruling of the family court. As such, Zakroti engaged in a half decade long internal war of stabilisation with the nominal support of his grandfather. This war was drawn out by repeated outside interference as many Drakken nobles joined the war on various sides simply for the joy of fighting or in order to further their own ambitions. The war ended with the Sack of his brother Lalika's estate, crushing the final credible threat to his rule.

The consolidation that followed this infighting resulted in Zakroti having five of his brothers and three of his sisters hung, drawn and quartered. Two of his brothers were forced to eat pieces of their own skin as they were flayed alive. Lalika himself was sewn into a bag along with various venomous serpents and diseased animals before being tossed into the river and washing off downstream into the ocean; His body was later found washed up on Gemminite shores, shrivelled up like a prune. Zakroti had two of his sisters publically defiled and enslaved, giving them off to be handed around the Drakken nobles who had supported his side in the rebellion. Initially, Zakroti had planned to engage in a war with the nobles who had supported his brothers cause, however the Drakken Court had been planning a major offensive and did not wish to see their numbers decreased by the infighting and thus passed down an official order to prevent further escalation. This edict officially declared Zakroti to be the rightful successor of his father by right of conflict in order to prevent any further infighting. Asa result both sides reluctantly backed down with neither willing to incur the ire of the Drakken Court or King, knowing that they would be all too willing to crush the weakened lords if given an excuse. The Court, however, did not force the family to accept Zakroti onto its internal council and as such Zakroti was not allowed to claim his fathers seat under the pretence that it still de jure belonged to his living father

Regardless, resistance had been crushed and many had been sent to meet Krenta during these efforts. Any siblings that still harboured misgivings about his position wisely fell silent after this; After all, the strong rule in Drakka. With his position finally secured, Zakroti spent his 55th birthday plotting out reconstruction efforts and rebuilding his power base in preparation for another conflict

Towards the end of his 71st year, Zakroti pledged his armies to his families cause during an invasion of the dreaded south and was elevated in status due his exceptional performance, finally being allowed to claim his fathers seat and thus a member of the family court and gaining significant prestige as a result. With his new station came the privilege (and indeed, the obligation) of taking a bride or several. Zakroti was ordered by his great grand father, the head of the family and one of the powerful Drakken warlords, to take at least one Gem Bride from the next group of selectees, a decision the lord is somewhat reluctantly obeying. Indeed, Zakroti has shown little interest in taking a bride outside of the pure pragmatic value.

Other:
Zakroti's small stance and the humiliation that was derived from it has led to the development of a superiority complex; That is to say, he presents an elevated sense of importance in order to mask his underlying fears of inferiority. As such his primary driving force was to find some validation in the world, to find some way in which he doesn't always feel so... Weak. He found that power and brutality brought him reslect and fear, and has cloaked himself in the two ever since.
Zakroti holds a considerable envy of the Gems due to the condition of their homeland, though purely because he believes Gemminia would serve as a better powerbase than Drakka as it would be able to support more people and in turn field larger armies, though this view has proven to be unpopular among the Drakken and thus he is usually rather quiet about it.
As a slave trader, Zakroti has made an immense fortune trafficking in human prisoners. He and augments his warriors with an army of slave soldiers and uses his money to hire bands of mercenaries. This huge military potential coupled with his penchant for trading in slaves has made him a widely feared and despised Lord.
Zakroti is the Muth (Duke) of Varlasmoras and Orth (Count) of Varlasmoras and Qearakas

[WilsonTurner]

Valence Sayal, the Cultist

Valence "Val" Sayal

Race:
Gem

Age:
20

Element(s):
Air

Height:
6' 2"

Bio:
Val grew up in a sort-of 'cult' of the more paranoid members of the Gem race- the ones that always expected the Drakkens to go to war against them. For the most part, they were completely and totally secret, only occasionally recruiting members throughout the ages, keeping a small force trained and ready to go. The cult, of sorts, was called the Pasirengimas Pabaiga- "Preparation of the End." They wanted to be prepared when the Drakkens finally decided to attack the Gems as a whole, and thus had far-reaching roots in major families and communities. Because of the great wisdom the elders had, this held an advantage- they believed that violence wouldn't happen anytime soon, if at all, but saw the value in having some armed force ready to go.

Val grew up in this secret community, which dwelled in the hearts of multiple of the largest cities, and the largest forests. They were few-numbered, but they kept a long vigil, making alliances with Gems within the Drakken lands, and sometimes with Drakken themselves, promising power to them, should they ever help them in the downfall of their superiors. Sometimes it worked; sometimes Drakken went missing. Either way, Val was trained using weapons long since forgotten, with techniques long since passed, against an enemy that had changed surprisingly little.

Val, among others, was taught a wide array of skills suitable for assassination, espionage, commanding, or front-line fighting. Each of the members of the cult should be able to perform a wide variety of tasks, in the event of Drakken war- which is exactly what's happening.

During the latter half of Val's current lifespan, he moved from one of the forest outposts to one of the many mountainous bunkers of sorts, dug out over centuries as secret places to defend Gem from the Drakken. Here, he learned the more brutal sides of things- practice fights often ended with blood being shed. They learned how to hunt, how to sneak, how to snap a Drakken's neck. They beat captured Drakkens to a pulp, and they used ancient techniques from a long-past time to wield blades whose secrets to forging have been lost- khopeshes.

Being surprisingly sane for a cultist, Valence was chosen to serve as his generation's leader, and to begin working against the Drakken. Things were changing; subtle warnings via dreams began plaguing the cult, until they all vanished- and soon after, they found out the Drakkens were coming.

Valence was, throughout his training, a very dedicated, undistracted pupil, who was a natural at fighting and warfare. Some other cultist Gems would whisper that he was a Drakken in Gem skin; he let the rumors continue on their merry way, ignoring them in favor of more training- if people were scared of and respected you, they would be that more likely to follow you in the heat of battle. He had an unusual drive to be the best he could be- his teachers often told him that he was Pyrus's champion, the one that'd save them all. He knew they didn't mean it; they wanted to encourage him to be better, to do more, but he still took it to heart.

Other:
The cult numbers close to two thousand, all across the lands of the Gem. Up to three hundred are stationed within the various 'fortresses' within the mountains on either side of the Gem-Drakken pass, hiding and waiting, training new recruits. Meanwhile, the other ~1700 or so Gems of the cultist live normal lives among the people, sit in outposts across the land, or work in Drakken or other nations to keep war from coming, or to delay it.

They actually receive fairly decent support from the water royalty, seeing the sense in the cult's motto- "Offer one hand in peace, and arm the other." The cult does nothing more than keep a sort-of 'Elite' group of soldiers at the ready, prepare hiding places for the population, and construct weapons and armor in secret, for the day that Drakkens, or others, will invade.

The Cult- Pasirengimas Pabaiga

Pasirengimas Pabaiga- "Preparation of the End."
This is a Gem-only cult/group of doomsday preparers- that is, people who have been recruited to secretly lie in wait to fight against outside threats- primarily the Drakken, should they ever tire of the Geminites and decide to lay waste to their people.

"Offer one hand in peace; arm the other."

Synopsis:
A group of 2,000+ members around every known Gem population center- in forests, city centers, etc., outposts everywhere, anywhere from one to twenty manning each. Occasionally, one of them will receive permission to 'snatch' a kid or young adult, to bring them into the Cult's fold after showing some amount of natural talent and anti-Drakken mentality. Snatches are usually done with the parents' consent- thus, the Cult has a reputation, very secret, among the population. They have an amount of credibility as well- they receive secret aid and supply from the majority of the royalty. The Cult is primarily based near the Gem capital.

Locations:
All over Gem territory, in forests and in cities, hiding in the darkwoods and in plain sight.
The headquarters is outside the Gem capital, underground.
The primary training center is in the mountain between the Gems and the Drakkens; the fortress hidden within the mountains is armed to the teeth with siege weapons, traps, and the best of the Cult.

Structure:
A very military command structure is in play.
The leader commands from the headquarters outside of the Gem capital; the leader-in-training is trained at the mountain fortress (Valence). From there, each outpost or fortress is a cell- each one has its own command structure, and remains independent of the other cells. In the case of an outpost being found, the rest of the Cult wouldn't be at risk.

Training:
Everyone is trained.
Period.
Everyone knows how to wield the Cult's signature weapon- a khopesh, the curved, hooked blade that can be used as a sword or an axe- and how to use a bow. Most are also taught to use a stave and in extensive hand-to-hand combat. Most of the techniques are from long, long ago, back when the Geminites had an actual army, however pitiful it might've been, and when they learned from everyone. Incorporating the best they could back then, and it's continued to be taught today. Every Cultist has sunk their fist in a Drakken before- many times, some are captured, in secret, and brought to the fortresses for practice.

As a to-be war leader in a cult that is expecting battle soon, Valence has been training vigorously with every weapon he knows to prepare.

[RomanAria]

The Twins

Miry is on the left and Aery is on the right.

Miry

Aymiria “Miry” Cassiel

Race:
Gemminite
Age:
18
Element:
Water
Height:
4’5”
Other: Is arguably the more levelheaded one of the twins; is less likely to go through with harebrained schemes. Also tends to remain quiet until she’s sure of what to say and how to say it, so as to minimize her chances of getting hurt. Has a lot of confidence issues about the fact that her sister is an inch and a half taller than her, despite both of them still being pretty much midgets.
Miry also keeps a pet rabbit, a small white rabbit whose name is simply, "Bunny".

Aery

Aerienna “Aery” Cassiel

Race:
Gemminite
Age:
18
Element(s):
Air
Height:
4’7”
Other: Aery’s a bit more… spontaneous than her sister. She’s also more prone to getting harebrained schemes in her head… and following them through. She’s also more vocal about her thoughts, in a way that’s likely to get her hurt.

Biography:
The Cassiel family has long been in service to the gemminite royal household. First as slaves, then as the lowest levels of willing servants, slowly climbing upwards due to loyalty and exceptional dedication to their tasks.

The twins’ mother, Alessa, was a seamstress for the queen herself, and favored for her fine embroidery work. When she bore twin daughters, it was hoped that the girls would follow in their mothers’ footsteps.

Unfortunately, or perhaps fortunately, that didn’t happen. Growing up the children showed no interest in embroidery. But they also showed no interest in hunting or any such violent pastimes. Alessa had her heart set on her little Air gem daughter being a flutist and playing in the royal orchestra, and her Water gem being one of the artists employed by the court.

The twins went along with it until they were about five years old; then they realized that they could switch places and could fool even their tutors. For a while they would only switch once or twice a week, but then as they grew up and the lessons got harder, they would go for weeks on end before switching back to their normal roles. And not even their mother caught it.

They finally came clean about the deception when they were fourteen; by that time Miry had secured her place in the ensemble as a flutist, and Aery was a student of one of the many artists. They also revealed that Miry had often done both her own, and Aery’s, history, literature, logic, and philosophy, while Aery did almost all of Miry’s science and math. Their mother had looked at them and had just shaken her head, saying, “When I can’t tell my daughters apart for nine whole years, what does that say about my lack of parenting skill?”

Siadamkiru Beneni

Lady Siadamkiru Beneni

Race:
Drakken
Age:
88
Element(s):
Fire and Earth
Height:
6’4”

Bio:
Sia was the only daughter, and the middle child, of thirteen children. Her father, a Drakken general quite successful in the campaigns against the south, naturally had several Gemminite wives and several more slaves. So Sia grew up surrounded by her half-brothers. It wasn’t a loving home but she made the most of it. The whole time she was growing up she saw how her father and brothers mistreated the women who made and kept their home.

As the family was growing up, naturally all the siblings trained in martial arts, blade combat, and ranged weaponry. Sia was as good as her brothers in accuracy, slightly less good in brute force, and a good deal better in agility, endurance, and speed exercises.

One day, when she was twenty years old, she watched two of her elder brothers harassing one of the slave women. One of the younger ones, still quite attractive. They were trying to force the girl to do something she clearly did not want to do; she tried to resist but they overpowered her. Sia stepped in at that point, challenging her brothers. They told her to mind her manners. She told them to remember that the woman they were so brutally mistreating was the mother of one of their brothers. Her eldest brother slapped her; in a fit of rage she drew her dagger and rammed it into his heart. He was dead instantly.

Her family exiled her, naturally. Threw her out, disowned her. She vanished off the map for almost four decades; they figured she’d died or gone off in shame. What they certainly did not expect was for an armed, armored Sia, carrying the decomposing head of one of the great Southern war generals, and leading about 100 chained slaves, to come knocking on the front gates and demand entry.

The slaves were a gift to her fifth brother, whom had inherited the household (as several of her brothers had killed each other in the years that she was gone). Naturally, with her sudden, unexplained rise to military glory, she demanded to be reinstated as a member of the family.

Over the next few years, unfortunate… accidents met her older brothers as they went off to wage war. Currently she is the head of an almost-empty household, as the elder half of her household is deceased, and the younger half is off waging war to gain glory.

And Sia? She’s mostly bored, stuck at home waiting. She needs something to entertain her. So she finally decided to call in her military victories and come claim a bride or two.

Sia’s Minions

Rizan Vesque (37) Rizan is the captain of her guard. Fights with the standard sword and shield combination, is also proficient in dagger, crossbow, longbow glaive, lance, unarmed combat, and probably a whole bunch of other things. Rizan = df4517
Acadea Drais (24) and Aldar Drais (30) These two sisters are probably Sia’s favorite minions. They’re more like her little sisters than they are her guards. Both wield glaives as their primary weapon; on the battlefield they are a terrifying duo because they always seem to know exactly where the other is and subconsciously time their attacks in perfect sync. Acadea = 539a00 and Aldar = 3895db
Meiva Rilan (16) A new addition to Sia’s pack, Meiva is young and scared—very small for a drakken, though she’s also probably not done growing. A skilled medic and a fast runner with good endurance, but extremely lacking in strength for combat. Meiva = c03feb
Kelyn Em’vere (29) Another all-around warrior – best with lances/spears, but also proficient with swords, daggers, and in unarmed combat. Kelyn = 3efbe3
Kintha Lortas (34) An archer through and through, though also proficient with dagger and sword-and-shield. A friend of Rizan’s. Kintha = df17b8

Saisri

Saisri Tyalanthe

Race:
Gemminite
Age:
19
Element(s):
Water
Height:
5’7”

Bio:
Saisri had a fairly normal upbringing. With two brothers, one older and one younger, she was given a loving kind family and a happy, healthy home. Like most water Gems she was fond of her element; her family lived on a lake and she would spend every single day of the spring and summer, as soon as the water had thawed, swimming. She grew to be rather strong, muscular, and… well, beautiful. The day she was taken from her family, her brothers promised that they would come find her and free her; a promise that she prays will come true one day.

Liana

I apologize for the sloppy image- I was getting frustrated at the dollmakers and then inkscape kept crashing and just ugggggh.

Liana Kasmussen

Race:
Gemminite
Age:
18
Element(s):
Fire, but… it’s complicated… See bio.
Height:
5’1”

Bio:
When a Fire gem from the southern border and a Water gem from the farthest north fell in love, no one had any idea what the child was going to be, but they certainly didn’t expect someone with Liana’s coloring. From the moment she was born she seemed to be a patchwork of tiny whorls and specks of alabaster and golden flecks, her hair streaks of dark copper mixed with lines of platinum blonde, one eye deep golden and the other icy blue. She was certainly odd-looking, but beautiful, in her alien way.

As she grew up, there were other oddities about her, most notably in her command of elements. While most gemminites had some level of proficiency, if not mastery, of one kind of elemental magic, Liana seemed to have none. It was believed that her father and mother, both very accomplished with their elements, had seemingly cancelled each other's out. She could muster only the barest sparks, no matter how hard she worked.

That said, the girl learned to fight in other ways. While others trained their magics, she trained her mind and body. Quick-witted, intelligent, as well as physically in great shape-- fast, strong, with good endurance. She now faces the Choosing, confident that she can prove herself a match for any Drakken who tries to claim her.

[Cubix]

Cuwarr Naxremis

"What's this?! Oh, my! Ohhhh... A glorious painting of the glory of war! Look at that brutal streak of scarlet glittering outside the flawless rings of this rich yellow burst! Tell me, worthless one, what message of battle does this masterpiece aim to convey?"

"M-my Lord... t-this... uhhh... is just a sunrise..."

-A conversation between Cuwarr and an artist in Gem.

Lord Cuwarr Naxremis

Warlord of Clan Naxremis; the Blood Art Collector; the Deathsworn

Race

:Drakken:

Age

:105:

Element(s)

:Wind and Water:

Height

:6'3:

Bio
The Naxremis clan grew to prominence among the families in Drakka through their intricate and sophisticated understanding of the weapons of war. The family Naxremis delved in the art of weapon-crafting, smithing out deadly and gruesome claymores, axes, recurves, and arrows. Every twist, every inch of detail and metal in each weapon had a brutal purpose-- whether to tear tissues on contact, or to cause the victim to bleed out on the spot among others. Thus, as the Naxremis grew in strength and influence, Stezius, the past leader, grew complacent with his weapons' quality. Confident that the drakkens were too stupid to notice the drop in quality within their weapons, Stezius held back on materials and resources, eventually hoarding a great portion of all minerals for himself whilst causing the arms to easily break and bend. During one of the battles, the Naxremis' weapons were naught but dull, and as such, the drakkens had to resort to unarmed combat (a battle they still won, by the way). Thus, the warlords seized Stezius, and incarcerated him for producing weapons sub par to the glorious fighting skills of their nation. Without a clan head, the young Cuwarr was left to inherit his father's chair in the dishonored Naxremis name.

Cuwarr was unlike any other drakken in terms of their art of war. While most drakkens preferred the usual guillotine-esque slashes, and one hit, one kill manoeuvres, Cuwarr saw something in the crimson field: a sense of meaning and purpose. Surely, war was not only about lifting a sword and swinging it at enemies; no, war was about sending a message to the cowards and infants of the less significant tribes-- a message that will forever imprint the gore that the drakkens left on the field of blood. Every death on the field deserved a beautiful passage towards the afterlife of cowards! Every cut must be felt in a certain body part, and every slice must build towards a climactic end. There should be a pattern, a drawing! After all, their enemies' bodies were nothing but flailing canvases! Why waste such willing blank slates, when you could leave your masterpiece there forever?

Thus, fuelled by a lunatic's drive for art in war, Cuwarr set about straightening the slacking skills of the naxremis weapon and armour smiths. The warriors may have forgotten the fear of a twisted and vicious edge of a serrated claymore during Stezius' droll reign, but as the grand artist, Cuwarr, took to the reins of the clan, all of them remembered the feeling of a wind-cutting blade. Of course, Cuwarr refuses to merely share his art to the drakkens alone (which was like throwing pearls in front of swine), but he also smuggles them to other tribes where he gains immense profits from it. Naturally, Cuwarr denied all accusations, and besides, all of his critics were short-lived (in that, they lived a short life).

However, the repetition of the boring and cliché life of the drakkens began to gnaw at Cuwarr's heart. And, he thirsted for more exposure and experiences aside from just artfully killing their enemies. Thus, he joined in one of the expeditions towards the land of the Gem. There, he became enthralled and fascinated by miniature, painted canvases. These paintings, as what the gemminites fearfully told him, brought out unspoken feelings inside Cuwarr, and his mouth opened at such a sight. The canvas, so brightly painted with gradients of red and yellow incited terrific and inspiring feelings of war and victory within the warlord, and he couldn't help but take all of the paintings (without paying, naturally). Cuwarr wondered how such a backward and weak race could house so much artistic talent that not even Cuwarr, himself, could surpass. He drooled at all the magnificent statues and architectures, and, painstakingly, Cuwarr admitted to himself that his art was pathetic compared to all of these.

However, if he could learn the art of these gemminites, his work could transcend war and victory! His work would be remembered for all battles and massacres to come! People would call his art sublime, phenomenal, and perfect! Turned on by the thought, Cuwarr decided to take a bride for himself, if only because that gemminite woman could teach him the art and splendour that Cuwarr could never find in his plain and predictable nation.

Other
-Cuwarr wears a translucent piece of intricately designed cloth over his eyes. This doesn't really do anything other than make him look ridiculous, but he wears it for a certain 'artistic' purpose.
-Cuwarr is calmer as compared to his drakken kindred, but he does share the same bloodlust and thirst of war as his nation. He has a longer fuse, but he is often sadistic in terms of making his enemies suffer. Also, he is a crude-mouthed person.
-Cuwarr prides himself in his marksman or archery skills. While he is experienced with the blade, his real ability lies in his bow, dubbed as the Paintbrush, and his arrows, dubbed as the Paint. He can accurately shoot a target from over a hundred yards away. However, his raw strength is weaker than most of his comrades, but he can still hold his own.

[Obscene Symphony]

Lienna Orhhneaht

Lienna Orhhneaht

Note: Her eyes are actually mostly silvery grey with flecks of pink and blue, giving them a violet hue from a distance, though close up one can easily see the three conflicting colours.
Race:
Gem
Age:
19
Element(s):
Water
Height:
5'4

bio

Bio:
Lienna was born to a poor single mother outside a Gem village in the far North, where the land never thawed and the sea, a blanket of ice. Though they were Water gems, just like almost everyone in the village, they were outcasts; the highly superstitious townspeople thought Lienna's mother a fool for not drowning her child when she showed signs of beauty. They believed that beautiful daughters brought the Drakken upon the village, thus more likely to Reap from them again, and believed that killing a beautiful infant was more humane a fate than the possibility of being Reaped. In hindsight, Lienna believes that they may have been right.

From the get-go Lienna was taught to be self-reliant, not out of necessity, but out of her mother’s need to have a child who could fare well on her own. Looking back, Lienna figures that her mother saw the Reaping coming, and predicted that Lienna may be chosen. She went so far to teach her about the Drakken gods )under the guise that she learn about all of Vivari's children, not just the good ones) and even some basic knowledge of the Drakken tongue. Lienna always knew, deep down, that her mother was preparing her for Reaping, hoping that this knowledge would help preserve her. Of course, she loved her daughter with all her might, and did her best to teach her how to be strong.
“A strong woman makes choices to improve her life and the lives of others, no matter what those choices may be,” she’d always said, “A strong woman will never give up, not even when all hope is lost and everything is dark and broken.”

The village in which they lived was very religious, and Lienna and her mother were no different. They held strong faith with Naia, the goddess of Water. Her mother taught her many things about her goddess and her faith, but perhaps the most resounding of her mother's lessons was this:

"Water always finds a way."

This became a mantra for Lienna as she faced life’s natural challenges, but never did she truly understand what those words meant until the Reaping.
On the day she was taken, Lienna shared tearful goodbyes with her mother, and while she loathed the idea of becoming a bride to a monster, her mother convinced her to go willingly. Lienna obeyed, knowing that it would be easier on everyone just to cooperate. However, her mother did leave her one remnant of home; into Lienna’s hands she thrust a tiny ivory statue of an owl with shining amethyst eyes (a small idol of Naia and also the symbol of her family).

Lienna identifies with water in every sense. She has always been calm and as wise as a young lady can be without age to help her, as well as a free spirit with a gentle hand and a harsh, yet tolerant temper. She has always taken life's challenges in stride, with the phrase in her mind, "Water always finds a way."

Other:
Lienna has some trouble with reading and numbers, as she never had the opportunity to go to school or access many books. She fears that her illiteracy might get her into trouble. Her preferred use of her elemental magic is freezing water into ice, and her pale white hair/skin and strange eyes are due to albinism, making her look somewhat odd, but posing as a rare beauty nonetheless.

[SevenStormStyle]

Sorici Amberra

Sorici (Sore-ee-see) Amberra

Sorici has fairly wide shoulders and hips, a full bust, and an overall toned look rather than curvy or skinny.

Bride Choosing Dress:

Hider

Race:
Gemminite
Age:
19
Element:
Earth
Height:
5' 6"

Bio:
Sorici grew up in an underground outpost only a short distance from Valence, on the Drakken side of the mountains. Orphaned at a young age, she was taken in by members of Pasirengimas Pabaiga after showing both potential in combat and a very anti-Drakken attitude at only about eight years of age. While not nearly as physically strong as her male peers, she excelled in speed, stealth, and agility.
Unfortunately, her outpost was eventually discovered and almost all of the gemminites within were slaughtered by Drakkens for existing on territory that did not belong to them. The only ones spared were young women who it was decided would be brides for their former(?) enemies.
Other:
*Though she carries a powerful hatred of Drakkens, Sorici is the very picture of submissive and respectful when in their presence.
*To say she is not a delicate little flower would be an understatement. She often carries herself with a calm and firm, almost expressionless air, and is athletic in comparison to the average gemminite female.
*Though she may seem cold at first, Sorici is very fond of other gemminite brides and children, whatever race they may be. She will often step up to the role of being a comforting and reassuring presence for other brides who may be afraid and homesick.
*She often carries a jewel-studded khopesh on her hip whenever possible. If asked, she merely responds that it is an antique meant to be worn as a fashion accessory.

[Nevix]

Kaivor

Kaivor has broad shoulders, but is surprisingly thin overall. While he's not muscled, his build is trim and athletic.

Name:
Kaivor Igvrius (Kai-vohr Igg-vree-us)

Race:
Drakken

Age:
97

Element(s):
Wind,Water

Height:
6’ 3”

Bio:
Kaivor was born to a stoic mother and a ruthless father, both nobles. His father drilled him for years, training him into a skillful combatant and an even better tactician. His older brother, a better Drakken in every sense, was mostly in the spotlight, allowing him some modicum of freedom. He spent his time reading Gemmite books, and this combined with his first-hand experience with his father’s cruelty started sending questions through his mind. He’s now feeling as though the Drakken lifestyle isn’t right, but as he’s never had any doubts, he hasn’t a clue what to do with these thoughts. As such, he’s locked them deep within himself and continued acting as a Drakken should.

Other:
N/A

[karamonnom]

Kalani

Kalani Solle

Race:
Gemminite
Age:
18
Element(s):
Fire
Height:
5"10

Bio:
Kalani was raised by two Fire Gemminites who only expected the very best from their only daughter. While they were strict in raising her, Kalani managed to flourish and even exceed their expectations. Kalani grew up to be a beautiful, independent, and proud woman. She was ready to take on the world when she was Chosen, much to her dismay. Her parents, though upset at first, knew that they had to give up their daughter and sternly told her that even though it was not what she wanted, she had to be the best at whatever she ended up doing; be the best Gem bride she could be. Whether or not she listened to their advice, we'll find out soon.
Other:
Kalani is a passionate perfectionist; expecting only the best from herself.
However in regards to other people, she is more cynical and doubts they have any true capabilities.
She is also fiercely competitive.

[WeepingLiberty]

Characters x3

Kasari ("Ari") Liesma

Race:
Gemminite
Age:
19
Element(s):
Fire
Height:
5'8"

Bio:
Full of life and brimming with energy, Kasari's family is known for their bolder than average personalities and the fire behind their eyes. A lively bunch, Kasari grew up surrounded by love and laughter, a sentiment readily spread to their neighbors and community. For the most part they were able to keep themselves in check, however the Liesma family could be too bold for their own good and had pulled the suspicion of a few Drakken passing through on more than one occasion. Kasari herself could be found working alongside her father and elder brother as an equal despite the strenuous tasks Gemminites of the fire element were allotted. This being said, she was just as graceful as she was powerful when it came to the art of dance. Once a year, the community would gather to pray to their patron god of Fire usually moving carefully so as not to draw too much attention from Drakken scouts. It was at the most recent of these gatherings that a Drakken scout happened across the scene, liking what he saw and deciding that Kasari would make a perfect Bride for the next Reaping. Mere days after they came for her, tearing her kicking and screaming from her equally distraught family.

Other:
Kasari is quite attached to a pet lizard she had found in the garden as a child. His name is Leo.

((BTW, wings not included with this model. XD At least not naturally grown.))

Azilon “The Wraith” Dantanath

Race:
Drakken

Age:
105

Element(s):
Water and Air

Height:
6’7”

Bio:
Azilon isn’t what you’d call a typical Drakken warrior. His love for war and battle is present but it is the way he prefers to go about it that differs so greatly. He earned his title of “The Wraith” in one of many battles with the restless south, his name infamous amongst those present at the time.

Rumors spread of a warrior who strayed from the main force to terrorize a small village a little out of their ways. When the force finally found him, he was surrounded by the bodies of the villagers who had apparently attacked each other or committed suicide. Not much is actually known about the man aside from rumors and speculation, even his face is a mystery as he doesn’t show it very often even amongst fellow warriors.

According to said speculation Azilon’s patron god is Krenta, and it is unknown whether he prays to any other god. What is known about the man, however, is that he has never once shown up to a Gem Reaping… Not that he hasn’t earned a bride, but it has been assumed he was uninterested at the time. But as the winds shift towards war, it seems Azilon’s days in the shadows might come to a brief end as he makes a rare appearance to what just might turn out to be the very last Reaping.

~~~

Most of what is known about Azilon comes from speculation and rumors, however his reality tells a slightly different tale. A Drakken infamous for his unwillingness to appear before others stems from a childhood under a ruthless father figure. He had been the product of a Gem Reaping, a Lady of the Water by the name of Naomi. Like most Gemminites, she had been ripped from her familiar life to be thrust into the arms of a warrior that would only love her in the cruelest of ways. While pregnant with Azilon, she tried to flee her life under his strict rule but was ultimately caught and chained in the dungeon until Azilon was born.

Being the son of a "traitor Gem" Azilon was regularly beaten to ensure his loyalty to his father. As he grew, it became apparent that his body structure was naturally smaller than your average Drakken leading his father to keep the embarrassment hidden away in the dungeons with his mother (whom bit by bit was losing her mind). Her shrieking and crying began to effect the boy as he sat in the darkness, his boredom and Drakken ferocity getting the better of him. To pass the time he resorted to torturing his own mother to stave off the boredom and in the end killed her, earning him a new spot in his father's eyes.

As soon as he was able, Azilon left to live on his own, taking up residence in the darkest forest the Drakken lands knew. It was this seclusion from the world added up with the sadistic way he killed his enemies that resulted in the many rumors about his cold and heartless demeanour... But is he really heartless? Or is he still just that lonely child chained up in the dungeon?

Other:
He has no wives prior, but enough slaves to keep his home comfortable. He makes his home in the Svartálfar Forest, the darkest region in the Drakken homeland, and requires his household to pray to one or both of two gods: Krenta or Norric.

(Dragon not included this time xD)

Sorrin Lucielle

Race:
Gemminite
Age:
18
Element(s):
Air
Height:
5'4"

Bio:
Sorrin is a sweet girl who was raised by her aunt since the age of 6, having lost both her parents in a tragic accident. She wasn't the brightest kid but there was something about her that made those around her smile. Easily distracted by the world around her Sorrin was always getting lost, running into things or leaving something behind, but she never failed to remember the important things about another person. Unfortunately, she selfless and caring nature leaves her wide open to being taken advantage of. She's incredibly gullible and easy to forgive others in most cases; hurt an animal or child, however, and you will see a girl very different from the normally docile Sorrin.

Due to the nature of the accident that took her parents from her, a landslide that trapped the family for several days, Sorrin is afraid of the dark and doesn't react well to small and enclosed spaces. Whenever the nights get too dark for her, Sorrin's only source of comfort is a song that her mother used to sing to her when she was younger. On moonless nights she can be heard humming or singing it to herself in private, to nervous to ever sing in front of others.
Other:
N/A

[Ellion]

Exon

Exon Xe’Jah

Race:
Drakken
Age:
123
Element(s):
Earth and Water
Height:
7'0

Bio:
Exon is the third son of his father’s and first son of his mother’s, his father’s second wife. Being a prominent darken family allowed his father the privilege of having multiple Gem wives. His mother…never got over being a bride and Exon seemed to be a constant painful reminder of the life that she’d be dealt. She was a ghost in the house.

That was something Exon never wanted to be saddled with. No amount of yelling, punishment, threats or bribery could make someone be happy. Which is why he’d been putting off getting a bride for so long. It is his dream to have a bride who takes pride in her role. To relish in raising his hoard of sons. Not that that is what he expects to receive and no matter what he does get, he will ensure that she did not bring shame on his branch by accepting anything less than perfection from his bride. He’d almost not even bother with the whole thing, rather an empty household than a cold one. However, his father had been…pushing the issue, perhaps hoping that caring about the future of the clan by saddling him with a bride and offspring might make him more invested with its politics.

Being the third son, he was expected and never tried to take a lead role in family politics, whether in the high court or in the family one. Favoring instead to let his elder brothers come to him and then decided who’s side he like to through his favor to. He discovered early one that his opinion held a lot of weight in the family. At this point in their lives, the elders were from his father generation and his uncles votes counted for almost nothing in the clan. That left the future of the clan with his generation and typically his younger siblings and cousins would follow his lead, seeming to think that choosing any side but the one he picked would be choosing the weaker side. When, in reality, he was more likely to flip a coin than actually think on an issue. With his father growing older, it is only be a matter of time until either Atreyu or Panitra make a move to be the head of the household. Exon would never be able to take the family himself, but the whole household seemed to be waiting on batted breath from Exon to finally announce his support for one brother or another.

Like his father and brothers before him, he typically favors a two handed sword, more prone to attack an enemy, then to try and defend from it. Which, shockingly, has not been a detrimental strategy to their numbers.

Rya Mire

Rya Mire

Race:
Gem
Age:
18
Element(s):
Earth
Height:
5’6”

Bio:
Rya wasn’t the first member of her family to simple disappear. Despite being from a small village on the edge of a swap, not eight years had passed since her older cousin, Elena, had been made to disappear. Although she was only ten at the time, it was a memory that haunted her childhood. The sight of Elena being drug from her parents’ house without even the chance to say goodbye. How Elena’s mother howled for days and days. When the howling died down, nobody ever even mentioned Elena’s name. It was also though she never existed in the first place. She disappeared.

Rya didn’t want to disappear.

But it also seemed to bring a sense of relief to the family. While there was no exact science to how brides where selected, it was simply unlikely that the family would loose another one for many years to come.

So, life went on. Rya and her brother and sister grew up, learning to live from the swamp near their house. Learning to hide in its depths when the Drakkan drew near. Rya learned to garden with her mother, working to domesticate the wild swap plants for medicinal and recreational usages, like her family had been doing for many years. While she thought it was okay, exploring the swap was her favorite thing to do. Rya’s father seemed convinced that, somewhere in the swamps murky depths, among the caiman, bugs and trees, there was the secret to all their problems. While Rya doesn’t believe that anymore, she had to admit that what the swamp had to offer was little short of magic.

Plants that could stop a womb from quickening and plants that would cause visions to appear for hours at a time. Plants for healing and hurting and something in between. Like her mother and father, she thought she’d have the rest of her life to explore its wonders.

But sometimes children have to find out that parents lie. That Rya and her sister Ayr were not guaranteed the right to grow old in their swamp just because Elena had been lost. That telling children to hide wasn’t just a fun game or a way to stay out from underfoot. Especially when the Drakken seemed to know what they were looking for.
Rya’s own exit was a lot less…dramatic than Elena’s, or she’d like to think so. The Drakkan allowed her to return home, still covered in swamp slime, to pack a trunk. She didn’t take much, just clothing, her journal of discoveries, stuff to remind her of home. And a small bag of seeds. To “Take a piece of home to where ever that may be”. Rya can’t remember what she had said, but what ever it was, it was the wrong thing to say. Probably “I love you” or “It’ll be okay” But once the shock was over and the anger set it, she knew what it should have been.

What it should have been was
“Don’t let me disappear”

Other:

wifenumbertwo

Aubree Lamay

Bree

morebree

Race:
Gem
Age:
19
Element(s):
Fire
Height:
5’9”

Bio:
It had never been a question on if Aubree was selected, only a matter of when. From the time she was old enough to know that she was pretty, Aubree knew that her fate and future lay not in her homeland, but that of their neighbors and overlords, the drakkan. It was a common thing that occurred for female members of the Lamay family, which had only survived though the male line alone. It was a sick joke that the Lamay's mothered half the Drakkan alive today. Since the history of the deal, none had every bore a Gem.

If she had been ever sad about it though, it passed the day she met Allie. The shy girl who blushed something fierce when Bree told her she was pretty. But it was the truth, from the first time Bree saw her, she knew Allie to be the most beautiful girl in Bree’s entire world. Together, they convinced themselves that the selection was not something to fear, but rather, the start of their true lives.

Much of Bree's childhood was filled with all the learnings of the drakken that were available to the gems. She was well versed in the history, lore, religion and most of the prominent culture traits. Taught to her to make the transition as smooth as possible. All of this information she shared openly and freely with Allie. As soon as they were old enough, the two girls took their studies even further. Researching how things such as how brides were selected and basic psychology of the Drakken race. After all, if they were going to be selected together, they would have to be prepared.

They planned for every thing that would occur after they were selected to be brides. The best course of action to ensure they were selected by the same drakken husband. They choreographed exactly how the first night would play out, creating a system to ensure they would always have enough time for each other at the end of the day. They studied different plants that could be turned into balms that would keep tried husbands sleeping while the mice played. Beyond even that, they discussed at length the various methods they could be used in training a Drakken without him noticing, often using angry bulls as testers for their techniques.

As the year passed, and their time drew nearer, their plans became more vivid, discussing at length all the things they would do to each other, beyond kissing. Have planned to save each other for their first night of sisterwives. Whatever had to happen with their husband was always thought of as a price to pay for being able to love each other fully, each and everyday.

When the day came though…all their plans fell apart.

They didn’t choose Allie. They didn’t even look twice at her. They just took Bree and left.

It took the whole journey for Bree to figure out what her next step was: She was going to spin a tale of the most beautiful girl in the world. One her husband couldn't live without. It might take a year, maybe two, but she would have her love again.

[NarcissisticPotato]

Atallia Faeron

Appearance

Atallia ("Talli") Faeron

Race:
Gemminite
Age:
18
Element(s):
Fire
Height:
5'2"

Bio:
If you believed that most if not all Gemminites were naught but some peace-loving, air-headed fools then Atallia is the living argument against that. Born in the north to the Faeron clan, she was taught from a young age that living under the boot of the Drakken was a nefarious business - they could either remain passive and wait until the boot stomped down or they could push back. Her family were one of the few in the whole nation that argued for the latter. After losing a sister to the Drakken, her father imbued within her that the continuation of the Drakken's very existence was a mockery to the Earth.

Despite those rather serious lessons and the pressures of raising a daughter who was very clearly beautiful, her parents were good to her and gave her freedom to explore the world around her. It could have been the fire flowing through her but it seemed that from the outset, she was a flighty little thing with no regards for danger or rules. It landed her in more trouble than it was worth but she had quite a bit of fun annoying neighbours and numerous townsfolk.

As she grew, Atallia didn't really change. Granted, she garnered a bit more attention from the males --a harsh curse that she remained unaware of-- and although she was a little more likely to wear a dress, you could almost always expect her to be causing a ruckus. Her ascent to womanhood was grateful, at best, but instead of just echoing the dying embers of rebellion, she became a soaring ember - something that the Gemminites could stand behind. Quick-witted and armed with a tongue sharp enough to draw blood, very little people could hold up an argument against her. Like a roaring flame, she was unpredictable and answered to no one. No one, that is, until the Drakken guards came calling.

Talli had heard the stories like any Gemminite child of how the Drakken came and took their brides from the beautiful swathes of Gemminite youth. She had heard the stories of the Huron families and how girls suffered a life of abuse that was only ceased upon pregnancy. And the Zagmars, who became known as the "Defilers" for the fact that their brides went through horrors of catastrophic levels and more often than not, bucked under the pressure. Naturally, she didn't credit herself with much in terms of beauty but she was enough to warrant being chosen to become a bride. Strangely, as she was taken, she didn't fight or argue - this was an opportunity for her. Her intent was abnormal. She was going to show her people that they should not fear the Drakkens; she was going to have them hesitate the next time they picked their wives and there was no way in Hell she was going to destroy some light-hearted fellow.

She would find the best of them and tear him a new one.

Other:
Atallia has a tattoo of a dragon upon her left shoulder. The origins of said tattoo will probably be explained IC.
Her eyes are a gold colour but they've been known to light to a powerful red when she's particularly angry.
Isn't the strongest in terms of magic but has enough cunning and tactical genius to use it where it counts.

---

Rynek Darion

Appearance

Armour

Prince Rynek Darion

Race:
Drakken
Age:
146
Element(s):
Fire
Wind
Height:
6'7"

Bio:
It was said that the Drakken throne had been built on the bones of thousands of their enemies, sacrificed to the Old Gods when the wicked thing was formed. Rynek would have been envious of his brother who was destined to sit atop it if it wasn't for the fact that Rynek had already made his peace with the dead - it was the living he craved. There's an art to killing that can't be ignored. The thick stench of death that airs the nose, the screams of dying men that enlightens the ears, the weight of a blood-drenched blade that has all cower before you and the pleasure of taking a whore straight after killing; devine. Of course, if whores are in short supply, men nearly always have wives and daughters.

It's the job of the king to rule and the job of his brothers to issue his justice with blood and steel. Rynek himself was a weak thing at birth, a shame to his family. Thankfully, he wasn't slaughtered as his true powers revealed themselves only a few short years later. The boy was a vicious bastard with little to no care of others and his fighting displayed a cunning that outweighed that of even the harshest of Drakken fighters. He didn't have an ounce of honour but by damn was he a fine killer. His people were heavy things, capable of fighting with weapons that were nearly half their size but Rynek preferred the eloquent dance of the sword.

Trained for a couple of years by Wilheim the Black, considered the strongest Drakken in existence, Rynek was slowly moulded into a well-oiled killing machine with no regard who fell in front of his blade as long as someone did. Over the decades as he has fought and defended the throne of his brother, he has diverged away from the typical fighting styles of the Drakken and adopted styles from the far east - styles that his brothers couldn't even begin to perceive. Abandoning his bastard sword, he had a curved blade forged and took up training in increasing his speed exponentially using his powers.

Every man has fell before him all except for one - his mentor Wilheim the Black. Being the only man to ever land a hit on the legendary warrior, Rynek has been placed as the second strongest Drakkan alive and is just as dreaded by his enemies. Despite his... psychopathic tendencies, his anger and lust for battle can quickly fade if he finds a pretty enough girl. Of course, she has to keep things entertaining or it typically won't end well for her.

As of now, Rynek is only returning from a long trek to the South to crush a king who thought that he could harass their southern borders. The war was long with well over five years of absence from the Prince.

Other:
Was rumoured to have urged his father to obliterate the Gemminite nation after hearing of the beauty of a princess there.
One of the few Drakkens with a sense of humour - although a brutal one at that.

---

Aeila Snowblood

Appearance

Aeila Snowblood

Race:
Drakken

Age:
73

Element(s):
Water
Earth

Height:
5'8"

Bio:
All throughout the history of Drakka, there has been one defining factor - the strong will live and the weak shall perish. The small, the puny and the insignificant have no place in the Drakken machine. Their's is an early death to avoid shame. However, there will always be an exception. In Drakka, the strong live but the weak also live if the strong wish to protect them. It was only inevitable, then, that it was the strongest who chose to protect the weakest.

There's a story told to Geminite children in hushed voices in the quiet darkness of nightfall but it's uncertain on whether it intends to inspire fear or hope. There was once a great, horned warrior, proud and bitter. His way was of the blade and any who faced him met a cruel fate. He was a wicked man but his strength was such that total power was his. As the years went by, the power darkened the man until he became nothing more than a wraith, inflicting torment upon the weak and innocent. He married and bore two sons but still he darkened. Killing could no longer satisfy him - there was no sport in slaughtering the weak who could put up not a shred of resistance. So he called his men to his side and abandoned his home to find an enemy truly worth killing, an enemy worthy of his might. He found his enemy but what he found was something greater than he could have possibly imagined. They were camped close to the Gem capital and seeking the cover of an Inn for the night, the great warrior found a young Gem woman. Her hair was the colour of blood and fire danced in the green of her eyes. In that moment, the darkness collapsed and his icy heart was thawed.

He promised her the sun and the moon and gave her both - his days he would spend with her, hearing her sing and dance. His nights would be a passionate gift and they would be trapped in one another's arms. So blissfully unaware was he, that he forgot about his young family back home. Eventually, the young Gem fell heavy with child and the great warrior was called back to his homeland to answer warcries from the South. He became lost in his war but even he could see that he was no longer the same - he lacked desire to kill and his heart wandered back to his secret bride and child. Little did the great warrior know that his secret had already spread amongst the court. His wife, furious and sick with envy, summoned the Gem to the court at once. Such was her anger that she charged the girl with treason and stealing her own husband away from her. Before the warrior could stop her, she took his hunting blade and split the girl from end to end. In a pool of her own blood, she died smiling, her hands locked with the tiny hands of another, too young to even have her horns.

And, as it was, the darkness crept back into his heart and he sealed it once and all for love was no use for a bitter world that only knew pain and woe. His wife, giddy with bloodlust, raised her blade at the child next but the warrior was fast. His strike sent her reeling and in silent anger, he had the child guarded. She was a monument to his weakness, a reminder of his pain. She was his punishment from the Gods for believing that there was something more than death. In the first few nights, he found himself at her bedside, knife in-hand. He wanted nothing more than to end her, to forget what he had done, to cover his weakness but he could never quite do it.

And so, she grew, the bane of those around her. Her father could only see her mother in her and ashamed of his weakness and sin, he cast her aside. His response was of violence, a wicked upbringing that was better suited for the likes of her brothers. Her stepmother hated her with a passion that burned white-hot, her weapons were words, sharp and twisted. Her brothers weren't much better either. She was the runt, the weak thing that didn't even deserve their time. They kept her shielded, however, under orders from her father. The younger brother liked hurting people and given his royal burden, he hurt people that hurt her. He never really liked her and she was terrified of him but he wouldn't let anyone cross her or his family name.

Despite this, she survived. Changed greatly, of course, but survived nonetheless. Meek and timid, she was no true Drakken princess nor was she a legitimate child of the king. Her name was for her position - the lowest of the low, a bastard.

The great warrior aged and bittered, his heart growing darker by the day. Violence could be beat into any child, he insisted, but anytime she raised a blade she was all-but uselesss. Eventually, he gave up, they all gave up and she was forgotten. She was a pretty young thing and the occassional suitor who reckoned his chances offered to take her from the warrior but each one was declined. The suitors forgot about her too and by maturity, she almost became a myth. Never seen by the public and locked away from those in better positions, she was only spoken about in tales and stories. Stories that were told with quiet voices - there weren't pleasant endings for those who spoke about where the little bastard came from.

Eventually, the warrior deemed that she was useless to him and she had to find her own way in the world. Not knowing a single thing about the culture and society of those around her, she sought the help of the only person to ever help her. Her brother had gotten crazier since she saw him last but despite this, he insisted that she attend the collection of Geminite brides with him. Too meek and unknowing, she agreed.

Other:
(input here)

[WilsonTurner]

Sorja, a Svelten, known as Malrakki of Fjall

Srnja Melrakki Fjall

"Sorja, the White Fox of Mountainfolk"

Race:
Svelten

The Race of the Svelten

Extending from that, Svelten vary greatly. Plainsfolk are tanned, darkened, and used to the sun relentlessly bearing down on them, using the skins and bones of the hunted as their shelters. Forestfolk are lighter skinned from the shade, fleet-footed and clever, always hiding among the trees. And Mountainfolk, forever in the overcast skies of the high taiga of the mountains, are light-skinned, fair-haired, and swift even upon the rockiest of grounds. They do, on rare occasion, mix their element with their words, singing what they need from the great trees known as Soultrees from their lands.

Soultrees are, of course, trees with souls; they speak to the Svelten, and the Svelten speak to them.

Svelten often fight with each other, but few rarely die- it takes nearly a hundred years before a Svelten becomes old enough to really be taught, after all. Even though prey is in far greater numbers, predators are few and far and have a tendency to avoid Svelten, or bond with them, the Svelten won't be able to sustain themselves if they are involved with bloody wars with each other. Culture has, of course, accepted this and integrated it- many ways of settling a dispute is a blade-dance until one draws blood; thus, they win.

Svelten all have glowing eyes- not greatly glowing, but enough to suspect it in the day, and know it for sure in the night. Intensity depends on passion; if they are very, very angry, it burns brighter. If they are angry but don't really care so much, it glows dully.

Age:
About 367
He is, technically, immortal. If someone does not drive a blade through his heart, he will live forever. Theoretically. He can still get sick or break his neck. However, insanity starts licking on the edges of a Svelten when they near the ripe age of 1,600 years, and are well into mental instability by 1,700. Not even those who tend to nature can live as long as it.

Element(s):
Life

Element of Life

All Svelten, by default, could be considered as wielding the element of life. They are attuned to nature and all living things, and live in trees, meadows, and caves, rather than making fortresses, houses, and the like. They hunt when they need, eat when they must, and care for their surroundings as a mother would for their children.

Svelten wielding notable measures of this can heal others, heal themselves, and sense life all around them and their emotions. It's difficult to lie to a Svelten; they sense dishonesty as a wolf would smell fear- a wolf smells the hormones given off when you're afraid, and a Svelten senses the change in life energies when one's mood changes, or if they are attempting to deceive. Excellent liars can still lie easily- but one has to maintain calm and convince themselves as well that they are telling the truth.

There is no offensive or defensive ability to this- they can passively heal, where themselves and anyone around them feels a little more rejuvenated, recovers a little faster. When actively focusing on healing, they can repair torn flesh and speed the healing between broken bones. Those around them feel notably better, and anyone sleeping with him nearby find themselves waking up even fresher than ever.

Height:
5' 7"

Weight:
168 lbs

Skin Tone:
Pale, untanned. Quite white.

Hair Color:
Platinum blond

Personality:

Sorja in a quick nutshell:

He's kind, and a bit of joker. He's easily amused and endlessly optimistic, though he has an excellent grasp on what's realistic. He just chooses to see the bright sides of things, and forget about the foul.

He enjoys teaching, enjoys being taught, but absolutely hates feeling like he forgot something. He's fine with not knowing, but if he feels that he knows it, but can't recall it, it rubs him in a way nothing else can.

Beyond that, he prefers spending some time to himself. While being quiet overall, those that used to know him would say that he definitely became more withdrawn when he arrived at the land of Drakken and Gem. He harbors a deep sadness, regret, and a fair share of depression.

Bio:

Long story somewhat shorter:

He grew up as part of what would be transcribed as the Mountainfolk, or Mountainclan. As one of the lower children of the society, he didn't have so many options. So, he began training with one of their rangers, as an apprentice. He learned to wield short swords, bows, knives, and many other weapons. He learned to track, to hunt, to kill, to live life in the process.

It came time for challenges and tests to prove the worthiness of the apprentices, and so him and others were sent out in multiple different things- tracking, hunting, raiding, etc. After a couple decades of acting as his people's soldiers, hunters, gatherers, guards, and otherwise, a unique opportunity opened up: delegations of all the clans were heading to the coast, where a small fleet of ships- just three- were going to embark across the ocean for distant lands, which have only been visited twice, both times more than two thousand years earlier.

Sorja found himself in a Drakken-occupied coastal city with the four hundred others of the three sailing ships of theirs. The ships themselves were beautiful; every single piece was sung from Soultrees, painstakingly built over decades. The ship was organic, subtly growing larger from their trip, the sails the finest spidersilk and their clothing from the best cotton grown. Many of them were offered refuge in these peoples' homes: they were sheltered and fed, met grandly by the Drakken leaders in charge of the city.

That night, Drakken soldiers captured or killed almost every single Svelten. Except for him- the family he stayed with happened to be Cultists, of sorts. They gathered intelligence and helped spread rumors if needbe, and so, seeing what would happen to Sorja, knocked him out with a sleeping drug, and hid him away as thoroughly as possible. They hurt themselves and arranged everything as if there was a fight; when the Drakken came knocking, it was all too convincing that Sorja had 'heard' the screams of his people and ran, fighting through those who tried to calm him in the process.

A day later, Sorja awoke to find supplies and clothing being thrust at him, and a map- leading him to the nearest Cultist outpost.

From there, Sorja traveled across Drakken territory to find the Cultist strongholds inside their homeland, and was promptly introduced to Vance- Valence's father.

Years later, shortly before Vance's death, he was charged with the upbringing and training of Valence and those of his generation at the Mountain Fortress. There was no going home, as he had long since found out; no way to get there, no way to contact them. But there was a chance to tear apart the Drakken, to join the little preparation force and help them prepare even better. He came to terms that it was kill or be killed; no one stood down after getting a cut. Such is Sorja's story.

Other:
He's very skilled. What Drakken are to Gems, Svelten are to Drakken. Although, Drakken are stronger than Svelten and Gems. Likewise, Svelten are faster than Drakken and Gems. Gems can just reproduce faster. Go Gems. Gem build for their children and their childrens' children. Drakken conquer for themselves and maybe their heirs. Svelten sing for themselves and that's about it.

@WilsonTurner

[agentmanatee]

ignore

[Belle]

Amalia Solair

Gem

18

Earth

5'6

Daughter of the Earth and the Sky, Amalia's mother was an Earth elemental and her father an Air elemental. Amalia is a bit of a wonder among her kind, for to look at her you would think she was an Air elemental. While she got her father's looks, she recieved her mother's element.
Amalia has been raised to embody the qualities of Vivari, the Great Mother. She tries to be kind and strong and brave and nurturing, just as the Goddess and the Earth itself. She is very caring and gentle. When she was reaped more then a few cried for the gentle young soul that would be so tarnished by the cruel disgusting Drakken. Amalia fears for herself, but also for any children she may bear, should she survive long enough to bear any at all. The thought of leaving her parent's beautiful garden home and going to the dark realm of the Drakken fills her with dread and heartache. She is conflicted within, having been raised to care for all creatures and yet being filled with hatred for the Drakken for soon destroying her life. Amalia is the embodiment of quiet resolve. She is terrified, but behind that terror lies a solid strength that will be hard to break.

[Saltwater Thief]

Hider

Dorian Fimbulvetr

Race:
Drakken
Age:
207
Element(s):
Wind, Earth
Height:
6'8"

Bio:
In Drakken Lore, there exists no shortage of tales portraying the fearsome Wilhelm the Black. A merciless warrior, said by some to be the incarnation of Krenta himself, and oft christened the strongest Drakken in history, but also a cultured and refined man, exceptionally odd for his race. In particular, he was known for only ever taking three wives at any one time, rather than the expansive harems others chose to keep. But the stories are all well known; what is of concern is the last of them.

For all his potency with a blade, there was one enemy not even Wilhelm could defeat, in the end; time itself. He stayed strong and forceful until the end, but even the mightiest must fall before the rigors of age. He was found dead one morning in his favorite chair, a cup of wine and a sword still in his hands, having gone to sleep and never awakened. Two of his three wives at the time fled the castle upon the news, but one stayed behind; Violet III, the royal bride he'd claimed at his final selection. How he had managed to claim two separate Princesses nearly two centuries apart was a marvel, but even more so was that Violet remained by his side. Even as she was disputed over by would-be inheritors along with the rest of the estate, she remained where she stood at her husband's left hand.

Things soon turn to swords and fists, as they do with Drakken, and it wasn't long before an angered contestant made to roughly grab hold of her. His attempt was cut short, not by blade, but by air; the wind abandoned his lungs and throat, and as he collapsed to the floor the others stood back. Such suffocation was Wilhelm's trademark technique, surely nobody else could wield it so?

"I will thank you," a voice rang from the balcony overlooking the hall, "To leave your hands off of my cousin there, and to leave my castle at once."

"Your castle?! Who do you think-" began another of them before the air was taken from him as well.

"My name is Dorian Fimbulvetr," the new arrival stated, "I am the only son of Wilhelm the Black. And upon his death, all that was his... passes to me. But, if any of you wish to dispute my claim, please say so."

The rattle of a sword accompanied his next words. "You will find my control of the air is not all that my father instructed me in..."

Other:
Dorian wields two swords in combat; one is his, the other is Wilhelm's black blade.

[Belle]

Layla Torens

Race: Gem

Age: 18

Element(s): Air

Height: 5'6"

Bio: Layla was taken in place of her stepsister, a plot of her stepmother to keep her own daughter safe. Layla is sweet but stubborn. Once she decides something she rarely changes her mind. First impressions with her are lasting. She is not considered as unearthly beautiful as other Gems. Her beauty is quieter, subtle, like a sunrise that gets more beautiful the longer you view it. She doesn't turn heads but once she is noticed she is hard to ignore.
She has already faced brutality at the hands of the Drakken guards who brought them here, having spoken out of turn and paying the price with a blow to the face that left her with a cut lip. As she watched the more strikingly beautiful Gems around her be chosen Layla feels a mixture of relief at not being chosen... and the disappointment of not being chosen.

Other: Has a birthmark in the shape of a raindrop on the inside of her left wrist.