A Lowly Wretch

Razelia: The Kingdom Of Magic (FINISHED)

Thessir

Submerged in black waters he thrashed. The light was too far to see and all that surrounded him was the cold grip of the pool starting to pull him underneath. As he felt the current start to jostle his flailing form he recalled watching the bowl floating away, the sickly yellow paste inside dissipating into the stream. He couldn't breath. He was moving but he was too cold to struggle. The nothing he could see was joined by the darkness behind his eyelids as he lost consciousness.

_
It was evening. The sun was just starting to touch against the horizon. The beams of light were cast through the clear windows below, faint particles of dust caught in the illumination. Up above, in the dark shadows of the rafters slept the diminutive young elf. With his head rest against the wall while he slept atop the roof beam he had his hat set over his face to block out any stray light to save from discomfort.

"Omigosh! I can't wait to see who shows up at the tournament!" One overly cheery voice from below remarked in what was clearly not their indoor voice.

"I hope plenty of cuties sign up this year!" The girl's accompanying friend added, speaking with an annoyingly shrill and squeaky voice.

Thessir stirred, rudely roused from his slumber by the two empty-headed girls passing under, gossiping about the upcoming tournament. He never cared for sleep, not with the dreams such rest brought however waking was never pleasant either, especially when it was still daytime.

"Tournamint this, tournamint that." He muttered in irritation, largely to himself. Pushing himself up he sat his hat back upon his crown and stretched, yawning deeply as he did. Grabbing hold of the side of the beam he lowered himself a bit before letting go and landing on the floor below with deft grace.

"Weire it not for the lightniss in my pouch and the locks to the library I'd say nay but here I am no liss, off to sign up in the hopes of moving forward." He rambled on, talking to himself until he caught notice of someone staring from the corner of his eye. A flower beast-kin half submerged in the garden soil was looking out from under her petals at him questioningly. After all, talking to one's self was not normal behavior, at least not in Zauberheim. Seeing her staring back at him he grumbled and turned away, cutting through the garden on his way out of the academy.

_
He had made his way to the market where he purchased a wooden dowel for a measly few coins. While of little use for him now after some work he saw potential in it as a weapon. Perhaps not a fine weapon of elegant make but a weapon no less.

Heading into the northern courtyards of the academy he found himself enjoying the experience less and less. Bustling crowds of people filled the streets, most of them a fair bit taller than him making it quite hard to navigate. Even from underneath the brim of his hat the sunlight made the world far too bright, hurting his sensitive eyes as he looked around. Keeping to the walls and trekking through shade whenever possible he eventually made it to the pavilion where numerous purple registration tents were set and ready to recieve applicants.

With his hat low he kept a low profile and continue towards one of the tents chosen largely at random. There were people that knew him but none he'd really describe as friends. He was a strange sort and strangeness often brought a sense of alienation with it. Affiliated with neither elf nor beast nor man despite his racial heritage he stood out from the accepted and the welcome. It wasn't so much discrimination as it was isolation. No one had much to do with him or his kind and he even less so.

So he had no real friends to speak of, which was fine in his opinion. In the wake of his failure solitude has clung to him like the scent of sea water no matter how many people surrounded him. They did not know, he did not need for them to know.

He was Thessir, he was not from here. That's all he'd ever share.

Razelia: The Kingdom Of Magic (FINISHED)

@PaulHaynek - Excellent. And yes, Leomund is no more.

Razelia: The Kingdom Of Magic (FINISHED)

@PaulHaynek - Here's my replacement character, Thessir. I decided to go with something a little different from the shadow hand model which is hopefully acceptable. It's a useful alteration spell but it comes with some strong drawbacks which hold it back from being too strong. Hopefully he's a bit more palatable than my last two.

Thessir

Appearance:

Thessir

(What the picture doesn't show is that he has pointed ears.)

Name: Thessir.

Race: Rogue Elf.

Magic/Abilities:

Given his people's ways his dark magic well supercedes his other fields of study. Despite his skill however his range of spells is rather low, lavishing most of his attention on improving one spell instead of learning a diverse collection like others. Beyond that he's an alchemist, knowing a few concoctions due to his brief role as lead alchemist. Here are some examples of his spells:

Living Dark Form
His piece de resistance, his greatest spell yet, this spell is favored above all else for him and yet it still has yet to reach it's full potential. This work in progress is the result of several years worth of study and adjustments to the original iteration.

When cast this spell infuses it's caster's body with pure darkness, transforming it into a something existing in a halfway state between a solid and a liquid like some sort of ooze. This gooey form is quite malleable and able to shift it's shape with ease, moving completely according to the caster's will. In this state the caster is much harder to hurt physically, able to reform wounds and regain lost parts by reabsorbing them into the main mass. This form is far more susceptable to light however. When exposed to almost any form of light the substance comprising the caster's physical mass will begin to corrode, the brighter the light the faster the corrosion. Natural sunlight causes the fastest deterioration out of all forms of light, light magic included.

The caster is able to gain mass by absorbing the darkness around them but only to a certain limit. The total mass of darkness the caster can absorb is equal to the total mass of the caster plus the strength of their magical potency divided in half. In addition the caster must remain in physical contact with all portions of their dark mass or else upon the spell's end they will be missing parts of themself. The amount of the caster's body missing is equal to the amount of mass missing in the Living Darkness form. The missing sections of course will be deducted by percentage so a caster who loses a third of themselves during the spell will only be missing a third of their body instead of losing the amount of mass lost when they were much larger in size. The same rules apply to mass that is lost to light corrosion. Upon the spell's end the caster will return to the condition they were at before casting the spell while also taking upon the wounds suffered as a result of the Living Dark Form.

The dark mass much like other fluids is susceptable to being frozen. When frozen it will no longer be under the caster's control and will not be able to transform back until the mass is freed from the ice. The dark mass is not flammable however the light produced from flames will corrode it. All light magically created, both directly and as a byproduct of the spell cast such as flashes from lightning and light from a fire, will corrode the dark mass like any other source of light. Light produced by an illusion spell will not corrode the dark mass however as the light created is simply an image of illumination and thus holds no sway over real darkness.

As of currently Thessir can only transform up to half of himself into a Living Dark Form as he has yet to fully master the spell.

Stain
Upon casting this spell causes everything the caster physically touches to become stained with darkness. The stain itself does little more than cover any surface touched by any part of the caster with an ink black splotch that cannot be washed away with normal methods. The caster however is able to sense the location of anything which is stained that is within a radius of five miles of him. The caster can only tell what something stained is by the shape of the stain so the more of something a stain covers the better an idea he'll have as to what it is. The stains can only be cleansed by magic designed to remove curses or by directly exposing the stains to natural sunlight. The stains vanish when the spell ends.

Shadow Jump
The caster can use this spell to sink into any shadow of sufficient size and emerge out another shadow. Both the entrance shadow and the exit shadow have to be within twenty feet of each other. If either shadow is destroyed by light and any part of the caster is still passing through then the caster is roughly ejected out the exit shadow. This spell cannot be used in complete darkness as it requires at least a modicum of light in order to create shadows. This spell cannot be used on shadows either created with dark magic or manipulated with it, only natural shadows will suffice. The caster can use their own shadow as an entrance shadow but since the shadow vanishes as the caster passes through every exit using this method results in a violent ejection.

Shadow Puppetry
A rather simple spell, this spell allows the caster to manipulate shadows. This particular spell does not give shadows any special properties, the shadows only do as they always do. The shadows are able to travel across lit surfaces however. Spells that depend on shadows cannot use shadows manipulated by Shadow Puppetry. Since this spell is not particularly difficult it is quite fast to cast and can be performed quite quietly too.

Dark Vision
This spell gifts it's caster with the ability to see in perfect darkness with excellent clarity. Though the caster can see all things in the dark the spell does not include the ability to see colors in the darkness however so everything will appear monochrome until they return to the light. The caster can cast this spell on others though they have a limit as to how many they can cast this on. The capacity for how many subjects the caster can bestow this spell's effects upon is limited by the caster's magical prowess.

Acid Flask
With the right ingredients and tools Thessir can brew an acid which can dissolve most organic materials and slowly eat through some weaker metals.

Lesser Healing Potion
With the right ingredients and tools Thessir can create a fluid mixture which when imbibed bestows the drinker an effect similar to a weak healing spell.

Personality:

"Here lies Thessir. He didn't come from here." - A Thessirian Epitath.

Thessir is many things. A scholar, a thief, a wanderer and a mourner in one.

His kind have always focused on dark magic over any other discipline and he is no different. He finds great interest in exploring that field of magic's potential and bringing new understanding into his art. A major factor in his motivation is his thirst for knowledge, coming to the academy simply for better access to the city's wealth of arcane knowledge.

His ways are strange to outsiders and duly so. As a cavern dweller his childhood has prepared him for a vastly different kind of life than the one he leads now. Where once giant bats and massive spiders once lurked around dark crevices he only sees humans trudging about dark alleys now. The day brings him pain so the night is his true day. While the sun is high he'll do things if he must but he much prefers to take cat naps in rafters and dark corners. He is a light sleeper since those who were slow to wake back in the caverns were often soon to become spider food. During the night he travels much, often choosing routes which require a great deal of climbing and acrobatics to get around since it's closer to how travel was like back in the caverns, pathways veering as much vertically as they did horizontally.

Having started with little to his name he's had to make his way up the hard way, doing what was necessary just to get by. Luckily for him most of what was needed was largely stealing and occasionally fending off the human folk. He's gotten quite skilled with his use of knives, both the regular variety and the thrown kind. While he's above taking advantage of those who are worse off than him he sees little issue in taking from folks who have more than him since they clearly have plenty to share that they're just too greedy to relinquish on their own.

Aside from his native differences in behavior Thessir often plays up his eccentricities as a mask of sorts to hide his real feelings. He's yet to forgive himself for failing his people, likely condemning them to a horrible death. The guilt eats at him every waking hour but he trusts nobody enough to let them see his vulnerability so he wears a smile and has a chuckle as though he were always in on some joke that no one else heard. His humor is strange and often grim. He is fond of playing the fool, coming off as beneath most people's notice. He is even more fond of subverting other folk's expectations whenever possible, sometimes for good and sometimes not.

At heart he doesn't mean anyone much harm, simply trying to get by as he lives on for the sheer sake of living. While he carries a great sorrow he still can appreciate the sheer beauty of the world at large and marvel at all the things he never could have even imagined from the pitch black tunnels that he used to call home. To see and to learn is his calling now.

But first a bit of money could be useful if only just to get around.

Background:

A long time ago a tribe of elves who lived deep in caverns were sealed off from the outside world by a massive earthquake which collapsed all entrances and exits out of the mountain. While these elves were recovering from the devastation a massive rock-borer worm dug it's way up and started attacking their village, devouring entire clusters of homes and hundreds of elves in a single go every time it passed through. In their desperation a famous hero of theirs concocted an alchemical formula which would keep the worm at bay. This formula was painted in a long ring around their village and the worm steered clear of them. While they celebrated their success whilst mourning their losses they were now burdened with a new albeit less immediate problem. The worm that attacked them did not continue it's attack but it never left the mountain, resting below them it made it's new home and hunted in the local area around them. There would now never be a day when the worm would not be present for long enough for them to escape, even if they did manage to tunnel through the rocks barring them from freedom.

Many generations of elves past. In memory of their great hero every generation one of them would be given the role of chief alchemist. The new chief alchemist would usually be chosen by the former chief alchemist and was almost always the apprentice of the former chief alchemist. The chief alchemist is a position that's just as important as the chieftan of the village and equally as respected. The elf we know as Thessir was an apprentice to one such chief alchemist.

As they were buried, unable to tell night from day beneath the stone of the earth, they had go by a different method of telling time. The lived by cycles, the time it took for the formula to begin to dry and flake off the walls. Every cycle the Chief Alchemist would perform the Ritual of Renewal which was essentially just repainting the old formula with a new coat. The whole village would attend to witness the event and upon it's completion they would hold celebrate. It was basically a major holiday for them, the celebration of a new cycle safely secured.

_
Come the day of the Ritual of Renewal all were gathered to bear witness to the maintenance of the formula band. The former Chief Alchemist was very old by then, old enough that he deemed it proper to finally retire and pass on his title to his pupil. Thessir was still young but the old man felt he was well and ready to uphold the mantle.

As Thessir was approaching the wall however something occured. The ground began to rumble and shake. From the depths below the bridge massive carnivorous bats flew up and began attacking all they could see. Producing his dagger he attempted to fight the bats off but there were too many. One smacked right into him and sent him falling to what he believed to be his certain death.

What he did not know was that in the hundreds of years since they were buried the worms movements had moved the earth, pushing stone aside and creating tunnels. After falling for what felt like forever but in reality was no longer than about ten seconds or so instead of hitting stone like he expected he splashed into a deep pool of water. He did not know how to swim however and quickly found himself drowning. His vision grew dim and it seemed like death was upon him.

_
When he awoke he was not in a cavern at all but aboard a ship, stuck in a net no less. He was caught in a fishing net and now aboard a fishing boat, something he had no experience with whatsoever. It was only when he started struggling against the confines of the net while the heavy weight of fish pressed on him to an effect which felt crushing that the fishermen noticed he was among their catch. When they let him down he spoke but his language was far too different from their own. They looked confused but took him to shore anyways since he didn't look very threatening.

In the port city Thessir took his time learning the local language, still reeling from the knowledge that everyone he's known for all his life was now likely dead since he failed his duty to replace the formula. The empty basin which once held the formula but was now rinsed clean with sea water was clear enough evidence of his tragic failure.

Once he could understand the language of the land he went out of his way to seek out knowledge of dark magic. His people had pretty much practiced dark magic at the exclusion of all else due to the fact the only light his people had ever known came from the small bioluminescent mushrooms that grew within the mountain in sporadic patches. The days were harsh as his eyes definitely not adapted to handling natural light at such volume, not to mention his skin was pale as snow. His complete lack of pigment as a result of the lack of sunlight meant he burnt with ease under the sun's harsh rays. The nights however were a marvelous sight. The twinkling stars and softly glowing moon set upon such a vast night sky were no less wondrous no matter how often he viewed them.

_
So he worked mostly at night. Without any skills of value to the people of this port he had to resort to pickpocketing to make a living. He saved up his money until he could leave for a place the locals called Zauberheim. It was said that this place was the magic capital of the world. With his fascination with dark magic he was determined to set off and find this city to see what knowledge of the dark they have stored.

For a small pittance of all the money he had saved up he paid a caravan to let him ride with them on the cart as a passenger. They traveled for many days and night until they finally arrived at the capital. It was a massive place, practically as big as the biggest cavern they had back at his former home. Setting off into the city it wasn't long until he was directed to Seraph Academy, the premier facility for those wishing to learn magic. Determined to deepen his understanding of dark magic he signed up to become a student.

Such was merely the beginning of his troubles.

Writing Sample

Thessir

The waves lapped against the side of the ship's hull. It canted with the undulant motions of the sea below. Raised above the deck in a swaying net he laid, pressed firm against the criss-crossed bands by a pile of cod. He sputtered and coughed, his body purging the unwelcome water from his lungs. He opened his eyes, the world still a blur awash with colors and motion without solidity. The light stung his dark eyes, encouraging him to close them once more. He coughed further and muttered deleriously.

"Hey! I think we caught someone in our net!"

He heard a sailor yell up to the captain. There was motion below, more talking too. The pulley slowly lowered the net down until it was resting against the deck. He felt himself grabbed by the collar and pulled from the pile of fish by rough calloused hands. His eyes peered through half-opened lids as he tried to limit the exposure his eyes recieved from the light. He saw a grizzled man, much taller than himself with a salt & pepper beard and a navy blue coat. He was clearly fairly old though not decrepid as of yet, well muscled from years of sailing the many seas.

"Hey, do you speak our language elf?" The older man the other sailors referred to as the captain asked in a language Thessir did not speak.

"E?" Thessir answered back in his own language to no one's benefit.

"Bloody hell. The captain stroked his beard, deep in thought.

"Captain, what do you plan to do with 'em?" The previous sailor asked.

"Well, we ain't no slavers and we sure as hell ain't sellin' him to none either." The captain grumbled with a frown. "We'll drop him off at port and wash our hands of it."

The rest of the crew mumbled to themselves and traded whispers with one another. Some agreed with his decision, some wanted to see if they could make some money off this stranger stuck on their boat but none of them raised issue with the captain's decision. As the rest of the people went back to work he felt a hand take him by the shoulder and lead him down into the ship's hold.

_
As he was lead into the dark doorway he awoke. The wagon rolled along the dirt trail under the autumn orange sky, the sun setting in the distance. As he stirred he could hear talking in the distance. They were approaching the city, namely the entrance where guards were inspecting the wares of merchants for contraband.

"Hey, we got guards checking the cart so wake up." The man sitting across from him gave him a firm but restrained kick on the leg to make sure he was awake. Thessir pulled his leg back and gave a bit of a hiss but otherwise didn't act on it. He simply straightened his hat out and sat himself inbetween the large squid and the basket of fish, making himself appear less prominently.

"Ho there! We need to check your wears before we can let you enter!" the guard ordered authoritatively.

"Oh ho ho, sure thing good sirs. Feel free!" The portly merchant put on his jolly airs and motioned to the men to come on over. Normally the fat man was anything but pleasant but he wasn't going to give guards any attitude, not if he wanted to actually do business in the city.

The armored men dismounted their horses and proceeded up to the back of the wagon where they peered in to check the goods. The man sitting across from him gave the guards a friendly nod. As they went over the buckets of fish one man noticed Thessir. He just gave him a friendly smile and a wave.

"Good eve'n ssirs." Thessir greeted the man with a thick accent that drew out the S's in his words. The guard simply looked at him quizzically.

"What be you, Beastkin or elf?" He questioned.

"I am Thessir. I do not come frrom here." His accent gave emphasis at strange points in his sentences, complete with a frequent rolling of the R's.

"That does not answer my question"

"Ah, er... A- Elf." He answered though his certainty was anemic. The guard didn't look too happy with the answer.

"... Whatever." Not bothered enough to care the guard simply finished up his search of the wagon before rejoining his comrade. They had finished their inspection and mounted back up, awaiting the next merchant's cart to roll up. They rolled on through the gates into the big city itself.

Thessir looked up at the large buildings which loomed overhead as the wagon rolled on over the cobbled streets. Though he had his uncertainties he knew that what he wanted was within his reach. All he needed to do was sort some stuff out first. It was never going to be that easy but he already knew that.

Razelia: The Kingdom Of Magic (FINISHED)

@PaulHaynek - Alright then. I have two choices for alternatives.

1: I swap Gang out for a fellow student who uses alchemy to enhance himself at a severe cost.

Or

2: I scrap them both and replace Leomund with a student that's a rogue elf who uses darkness magic to conjure shadowy hands that can grapple opponents and wield weapons.

Which sounds better?

Edit: Actually, I'll just go with the second choice myself. I like the idea better and it's easier to work with being a single character.

Razelia: The Kingdom Of Magic (FINISHED)

@PaulHaynek - I got the character's appearances up. I'm planning a joint writing sample featuring the two of them but I'm holding off because if Gangraena simply cannot be I'll have to do some major rewrites to both Leomund and the character replacing her and that's if I don't scrap both of them and write up someone else. Also I made the changes to Gangraena, removing the resistance to dark magic as well as her healing effect from curses.

Anyhow here's the updated sheets, complete with everything except the writing sample.

Leomund Anglehook

Name: Leomund Anglehook.

Appearance:

For a young man he's not terrible looking if a little plain. He's got straight chestnut brown hair that comes down just a little bit above his neck and stormy dark grey eyes. He stands at just a little bit under six feet tall weighing a modest one hundred and sixty four pounds. With skin that's seen it's fair share of sun his frame is quite skinny and his physique is nothing to be impressed with. He's got some muscle but it hardly shows and he's not that particularly strong either.

His standard apparel is largely that of the average fisherman: Light brown pants cut off just above the knees and a white shirt with short sleeves. He has big leather boots that are a size larger than his feet since that was all he could afford. On sunny days he'll wear a wide straw hat for shade. To carry stuff he typically carries around a large brown sack which he either carries by it's draw string or hangs it from a walking stick.

In combat he wears an iron kettle helmet and a hardened leather vest with three bands of iron on each shoulder. He wears leather bracers with bands of iron riveted on in a vertical arrangement. He wears greaves which are largely just brown boots with a plate of iron both on top of the foot and along the front of the shin. Over his pants he wears a skirt of iron bands hanging from a belt by iron rings. Under his chest armor he wears a white cotton gambison to pad against impact and keep the edges of the armor from digging into his skin. He wears brown leather gloves to protect his hands from the splinters on his weapon's handle. His weapon is a Goedendag, a large two handed club with spikes run through it, the longest spike at the very top which allows it to serve as both a spear and a spiked club.

Race: Human.

Magic/Abilities:

His range of spells is fairly small and not the strongest by far. There are three basic fields he has shown more aptitude in than others.

Blessings
Among the various fields he's dabbled in during his schooling one that seems to come easier than others is the ability to strengthening one's physical capabilities and other forms of aid. He can imbue himself and others with greater strength, fleeter movement and enhanced durability. He can only grant someone as many as two of these boons at once, never more. These blessings last for as long as he wants them to, the spell only ending with a conscious thought to cancel them. For every person gifted with one of his blessings the total potency of the blessings is divided by the total number of people in possession of such blessing. This is due to the active nature of the spell, taking away from his magic in a constant stream which forks with each additional individual selected. While this connection is not limited by distance magics that distrupt the flow will prematurely end the blessing.

Wards
A magic which offers protection both to individuals and over designated areas against a wide variety of foes and magics alike. These spells form an invisible bubble either around a person or a select area, hedging out a single subject of the caster's choosing. Most wards only have one designated subject to bar from trespass, allowing everything else to pass through freely. Certain things are more difficult to ward against than others simply for the practical reason that just as the subject cannot enter a ward the owner of said ward also cannot approach the subject. For example if the caster were to ward against dirt or stone they might find it hard to walk as the ward thusly prevents them from reaching the ground. Things that are already inside a ward at the time of casting are free to exit the ward just fine but if they are the subject of the ward they will be barred from re-entry afterwards. Wards aren't even a perfect defense against their subject either. The strength of a ward's protection is based on the strength of the spell which is largely decided by the caster and what they are capable of casting.

Healing
Exactly what it says on the tin. He's not super at it but it'll suffice.

Apart from these three arts he's only really got one direct offense spell that he's able to use effectively in the middle of a fight.

Mine
This spell deploys a small mote of white light which can detonate in a small explosion of pure force. The strength of the spell isn't very strong, the actual force of the explosion comparable to the hind kick of a large horse. The radius of the explosion is roughly five feet or so, only detonating when an enemy is within a couple feet of the mote of light itself. The mine can either be left to stay where it's created or it can be set to repeatedly travel upon a designated path, floating gently along in a steady patrol until an enemy triggers it. It cannot travel through solid objects. It can only be triggered by those the caster has designated as foes so if anyone else walks into one it will not explode or cause any other form of harm.

Personality:

Calm, simple and rational. He's a fairly closed in type, not the most outgoing short. Some might even describe him as a bit shy. He doesn't like talking about himself much. His ambitions aren't particularly grandiose. He just wants to graduate so he can help those close to him. Seeing as it's a fair honor to receive an invitation to study at such a prestigious academy it would be a disservice to his family not to accept. The money and position in society offered by such a scholarship would benefit his father and it gives him an opportunity to learn more about the world in general. He's a curious one, quite fascinated by things that would normally frighten normal folk.

Perhaps that might be because he's fairly nervous around pretty much everything to begin with. He's not a bold soul, his shyness not helping that matter. Despite this he'll go above and beyond to do right to those he owes it to. He almost never breaks a promise and holds strongly to his word. In fact a majority of his study is centered around helping out the friend he made. Outside of that he studies but as mentioned before he has little to no ambition of his own. Power is of little interest as he has few things he'd use it for and riches would only make life harder to manage so he purposefully avoids accumulating wealth to himself. Fame has little draw for him as he's nervous around company, especially crowds. Really once he's met his needs and fulfilled his obligations left to his own devices he'd largely just read up on various curiosities largely as a hobby.

He's learned to fight not out of any desire to actually see combat but rather so he can handle himself should he be separated from his friends and left to fend for himself. His natural aptitudes leave him paltry as a war magus, hardly capable of laying any degree of men to waste with any of his magic alone. He makes due with using his magic to boost his ability to fight and using brute force to fight off others. Given the chance he'd much rather let others do the fighting and simply support them with his magic but sadly that's not always an option.

Background:

Leomund is little more than a simple fisherman's son from a quaint fishing village off the shore of a great sea by the mainland. His mother died giving birth to him so for the most part it's just been him and his father. The two of them fished for a living, paying their taxes and keeping what was left for food. On good months they'd have some left over to sell in the markets. The money helped smooth over some of the poorer hauls they had so in the end it was all balanced out.

Of course his father wanted a good life for his son so naturally as a sort of plea to the fortunes he put forward an application for his son to join Seraph Academy. While ordinarily a fisherman's son would have little to no chance in joining a school like theirs luck just so happened to be in their favor. While going over application letters his application was mistakenly placed in the accepted pile which was then taken and issued congratulatory letters for their acceptance into their school. When the news got back his father celebrated.

While this was a chance for them to make it big and strike out of the humble lifestyle of simple fishermen this ultimately meant that Leomund had a long road to walk ahead of him, both figuratively and literally. Renting out the only spellbook the village held from the village elder his father had him study hard to learn a cursory amount of magic, just enough to fake an understanding of magic that would hopefully be enough to get him by at the start. Soon enough the school year would begin so to get him in on time they set him up with a pack of his belongings and set him out to go and make a future for himself in the big city.

So he set forth.

And not long after he left the village after many hours of walking night fell. With night came a band of vicious bandits, armed men who waylaid his campsite and tied him up while they looted him of all his possessions. Just as they were finished robbing him they were going to leave him for dead when from the inky depths of the darkened woods a menacing figure trudged forth. Stepping into the light of the campfire the tall and intimidating figure of a dark armored foe was revealed. She towered over each and every one of them, a veritable statue of metal, and clutched in her grip was a massive ship's anchor. It might of been rusted all across but the great bend of iron was more than thick enough to hold strong ever still. With each resounding step the chains which bound the loop of the anchor to her left arm rattled, giving off this aura of dread which filled the hearts of all who faced her. Peering down at the quivering mortals beneath her the glowing yellow eyes from the yawning darkness that was the inside of the helmet cast their dread-filling light upon the terrified rogues.

She needed not deliver a single blow as they scattered before she could even face them down. Little did they know that she had no clue what was even going on. She just wanted to say hi. Luckily for Leomund her approach was all that was needed to drive his captors off, leaving him now free albeit still bereft of all possessions with the exception of his acceptance letter which he cleverly hid in the dirt when the bandits weren't observing him.

Despite her imposing apparel Leomund found himself more thankful to this strange ominous savior of his rather than intimidated like all the others. When she spoke it was quite clear she meant him no harm. She was a wandering mercenary who traveled the land taking money in exchange for use of her unnatural strength to crush foes with the ship anchor she wielded. He asked her what the price for her service was. She just shrugged. She had no real acumen for coin so she would just accept whatever sounded good for the job. With this in mind he basically offered her the job of guarding him and in exchange when he finally made it big as a caster of some sort he'd pay for all her expenses. She agreed to it because it sounded like a good trade and he was nice about it.

And so the two of them set forward to Zauberheim. Along the way he learned that she was in fact a drowned sailor who's spent a very long time walking the ocean floor before she finally found land. Neither of them are sure how long but it was probably pretty long given how much rust her anchor had gathered. She was a strange sort with a few marbles missing for sure but given how she stepped in and helped him when he was staring at a very immediate death he's able to overlook such eccentricities.

Such is the story of how Leomund got to school. The rest, as they say, is a tale for another time. Maybe soon. Probably.

&

Gangraena

Name: Gangraena the Abyss Treader.

Appearance:

Truly a figure which most would dread to see coming at them. She stands at an even six foot tall and weighs a solid one hundred and ninety pounds though most wouldn't be able to tell since she looks like she weighs half that. Most would assume a warrior such as herself would have sizeable muscles but her body looks soft and feminine. This is due to the fact that the mesh of writhing tendrils lurking beneath her flesh grant her a great deal more strength than she aught to have. If one were to look closely at her exposed flesh they could see shallow movements beneath the skin, like eels beneath opaque water.

Her skin is a blue tinged grey like that of a drowned corpse. Her body might be a bit less bloated than the average floater but she looks no less drowned. Her hair is a murky dark green, not unlike kelp. Her hair is straight albeit messy more often than not and cut just above her neckline. Her face while bearing some of the characteristic slender femininity of the light elves is a bit rounder, a softer jawline with cheeks that are more full with a lower cheekbone that eccentuates the eyes which... Well, require some explanation.

The sockets which once housed eyes are empty now. More than that the eyelids themselves are missing as well, leaving the eye sockets open up to the edges of the skull, leaving only the eyebrows. Inside the hollow apertures her eyes once occupied is a deep darkness, an abyss so black staring deeply into them can leave one's grip on sanity loosened. As though swimming in the shores of the fathomless darkness which appears to stretch on for eternity are two spheres of winding light in an unearthly yellow hue, one mote for each socket.

Her armor is no less imposing than herself despite it's piecemeal collection of parts. Her helmet is a large dark iron greathelm, concealing all but the intangible clots of yellow light that serve as her eyes which shine through the narrow eye slots. Her body armor was actually taken from a knight of a tribe of turtlemen, a massive breastplate far too heavy for any normal man or elf to use. It's plates are half an inch thick and are designed to fit onto a curved shell but Gangraena wears it anyway since she can move it about despite it's bulk. For shoulder protection she wears a large set of dark iron pauldrons. On her arms she wears dark iron gauntlets and vambraces. Her legs are protected with a set of gilded but scratched iron greaves complete with once elaborate cuisses that look like whatever designs they were embossed with has been smashed into a spangle of loose metal atop the plates. Her weapon is a large ship anchor which has been covered with more than few centuries worth of rust, wielded by the loop it's tied by. It's attached to a chain which is wrapped several times around her left arm which is her dominant arm.

Race: Light Elf.

Magic/Abilities:

Having been restored by some ancient entity at the bottom of the ocean's deepest chasms she possesses unusual alterations to her body which have changed her greatly. The dark graft which keeps her alive also grants her an unnatural level of strength as well as nearly endless stamina. As a result of this unearthly change her ability to use any form of magic is completely forfeit. Even despite her heritages natural inclination she's never had any talent in casting anyhow.

Perhaps the strangest thing about this are the dark creatures which confer these gifts. Her body is filled with a tightly pact network of tiny ichorous tendrils which grasp one another, forming a network capable of exerting such force. They communicate each other through the dark magic they've been fused with. There is no part of her that ceases to move regardless of how badly she's torn apart. Even in the case of decapitation her body will continue to move as if still connected to her head, albeit a bit more awkwardly given the disconnect between her head's position and her body's. Thanks to the tendrils breathing is no longer required and they are sustained by the dark magic, sustaining her in turn. Her tolerance for pain much like her stamina is no less plentiful and despite completely lacking eyes the dark magic confers a special sight which allows her to see as any normal person of her former species would.

These symbiotes have some other curious properties that it confers upon it's host. Due to the nature of the tendrils within a large variety of curses will have no effect on her other than the vague excitement of the squirming masses inside her flesh.

Lastly as a result of an ancient pact between her dark benefactor and the oceans themselves the water will never bring her damage or decay. While variety of aquatic beastmen can decide for themselves at large many of the true beasts of the deep will ignore her.

Personality:

Despite being a creature close to all would consider wholly unnatural she's pretty chipper about it all. She's a bright and sunny soul who just so happens to be a barnacle-ridden mess of dark magic who has spent several thousand years trudging the deepest reaches of the ocean in search of land. While many a mind would shatter in the fathomless length of time spent wandering in pitch black waters she seems to have come away from it rather well. Perhaps maybe that alone is it's own form of insanity.

Even in life she was never the sharpest tool in the shed. She's extremely trusting and often a poor judge of character. Though she might be quite naive her experience in combat during her time ashore clearly shows. She understands violence quite well and quickly resorts to such methods in the face of most obstacles. She's nearly impossible to threaten and negative emotions run past her with plenty of haste as she flits back to a positive frame of mind quite easily.

As a bit of a side effect from the whole process her knowledge of her own past is spotty at best. Bits and pieces are left floating in a gulph of darkness and not just the stretch of time occupying her memory where nothing but walking occured and darkness was all she could see. Oftentimes she can be rather addle-minded, forgetful and quite easily confused as well. She means well though and generally holds little ill-will towards most folks. Her aims are simply enough to go from day to day, surviving and spending time with good friends when she can. Quite frankly anything is better than wandering the depths of the ocean so she's quite easy to please.

Background:

A long time ago in a large port city run by the light elves were a family of sailors. When she was of age she'd join her father on his voyages, traveling the waters aboard their seaworthy vessel. One night however the weather was particularly stormy and the ship was overturned. Most of the sailors aboard the ship drowned that night but Gangraena's fate was chosen by a different force. As she begun to drown shadowy forces dragged her below, pulling her body well into the depths. Even as she lost consciousness her form drifted inbetween the great oceanic crags and into the great tear in the earth's face below the waves.

So deep below she was pulled. She was dragged into depths which in ordinary circumstances would hold pressures too great for the soft bodies of most surface dwellers. This was no ordinary circumstance however, dark magic protecting her from the dangers of the deep until she was brought into a long forgotten temple which had sunk into the ocean ages ago. This mysterious entity took her into it's flooded halls and set her upon it's unearthly altar. Though drowned she was not wholly dead before it began the process.

When she awoke everything was dark. There was only water in her lungs and there was no light to see by. Without anything to go by she started to float about without direction. As she left the temple she was starting to float away so she grasped around herself for something to hold onto. She managed to grab hold of the anchor which had fallen off her ship which was destroyed in the storm. With the anchor weighing her down she was able to set her feet on the ground and begin her long trek, dragging the anchor along behind her like it was some old oar.

_
From then on she simply walked. She had no direction to follow so she'd simply walk until she ran into something and then try to walk around that. This continued for thousands upon thousands of years. Though long as such a trek might be it could of been shorter but she had a terrible sense of direction and often wound up walking in circles for many years at a time. Sometimes she would fall into pits that could swallow mountains and occasionally she'd run into mountains that make those of the surface world seem pitifully small by comparison. Being a realm vastly larger than the surface land it's features often dwarfed those that appeared above.

For a time so long it beggars the imagination she simply wandered the depths, anchor in hand. Eventually she stumbled into a village of deep ones. They fled at the sight of her though she couldn't understand why. She followed where some of them went and it led her near a city by the shore. She tried to go through the city but the guards kept yelling and sticking spears in her so she went around it instead. Eventually she reached shore at long last. She walked along the beach after that, dragging along her rust crusted anchor until she eventually found a port town. There she hung around until she learned their language, the locals giving her reasonable distance given her appearance but otherwise simply assuming she's just another deep one.

Once she was able to understand people she used her great strength to help people, asking very little in exchange. Most of the armor she's now owner of are pieces from warriors she's felled in her travels. One night she came and scared off a group of bandits, rescuing a young man named Leomund. As thanks he offered to pay her back later on when he was a more renown mage. She accepted, offering in turn to keep him safe until then. She didn't have anything better to do so it seemed like a fair deal.

And such is the story of how Gangraena met Leomund. Also some other stuff.

Razelia: The Kingdom Of Magic (FINISHED)

@PaulHaynek - There are a couple things I'll argue in her defense.

Firstly as far as toughness goes she's fairly strong but her flesh is no tougher than most light elves. She's far easier to put together but depending on the damage sustained that can be made quite a bit harder. I've put a high resistance to dark spells and the ability to shirk certain types of curses but all other forms of magic work just as intended on her. By herself she's a powerhouse physically but her range and especially her speed are both lacking. Her attacks tend to be big single hit strikes while she makes little effort in dodging, usually opting to sustain blows in favor of a more aggressive attack.

Secondly while she is definitely more powerful than Leomund who quite frankly sucks when he's left alone they do make a potent team. This said she is not a student at the academy so plots that exclude outsiders will typically leave her uninvolved. She is by large a secondary character so her involvement will be largely circumstantial, especially for the tournament arc where her role will be quite passive indeed. When she is involved as a team they are quite powerful but Leomund will always be the weak link in the duo. Taking him out makes Gangraena much easier to fight as it deprives her of his support magic.

If needed I can remove the resistance to dark spells to give her a bit more magic vulnerability since she lacks the ability to cast spells herself. If you have any other suggestions regarding changes I'll definitely be watching out for input.

Razelia: The Kingdom Of Magic (FINISHED)

@PaulHaynek - I've decided to change the second character to downplay the reanimation concept so now it's more organic in nature. The only thing missing from the sheets currently are the appearances. I'll be adding those after a short break but I felt like sharing what I've got written thus far since all of the sufficiently important details are already covered. Hopefully these two are acceptable. The appearances shouldn't take long to write.

Leomund Anglehook

Name: Leomund Anglehook.

Appearance:

Race: Human.

Magic/Abilities:

His range of spells is fairly small and not the strongest by far. There are three basic fields he has shown more aptitude in than others.

Blessings
Among the various fields he's dabbled in during his schooling one that seems to come easier than others is the ability to strengthening one's physical capabilities and other forms of aid. He can imbue himself and others with greater strength, fleeter movement and enhanced durability. He can only grant someone as many as two of these boons at once, never more. These blessings last for as long as he wants them to, the spell only ending with a conscious thought to cancel them. For every person gifted with one of his blessings the total potency of the blessings is divided by the total number of people in possession of such blessing. This is due to the active nature of the spell, taking away from his magic in a constant stream which forks with each additional individual selected. While this connection is not limited by distance magics that distrupt the flow will prematurely end the blessing.

Wards
A magic which offers protection both to individuals and over designated areas against a wide variety of foes and magics alike. These spells form an invisible bubble either around a person or a select area, hedging out a single subject of the caster's choosing. Most wards only have one designated subject to bar from trespass, allowing everything else to pass through freely. Certain things are more difficult to ward against than others simply for the practical reason that just as the subject cannot enter a ward the owner of said ward also cannot approach the subject. For example if the caster were to ward against dirt or stone they might find it hard to walk as the ward thusly prevents them from reaching the ground. Things that are already inside a ward at the time of casting are free to exit the ward just fine but if they are the subject of the ward they will be barred from re-entry afterwards. Wards aren't even a perfect defense against their subject either. The strength of a ward's protection is based on the strength of the spell which is largely decided by the caster and what they are capable of casting.

Healing
Exactly what it says on the tin. He's not super at it but it'll suffice.

Apart from these three arts he's only really got one direct offense spell that he's able to use effectively in the middle of a fight.

Mine
This spell deploys a small mote of white light which can detonate in a small explosion of pure force. The strength of the spell isn't very strong, the actual force of the explosion comparable to the hind kick of a large horse. The radius of the explosion is roughly five feet or so, only detonating when an enemy is within a couple feet of the mote of light itself. The mine can either be left to stay where it's created or it can be set to repeatedly travel upon a designated path, floating gently along in a steady patrol until an enemy triggers it. It cannot travel through solid objects. It can only be triggered by those the caster has designated as foes so if anyone else walks into one it will not explode or cause any other form of harm.

Personality:

Calm, simple and rational. He's a fairly closed in type, not the most outgoing short. Some might even describe him as a bit shy. He doesn't like talking about himself much. His ambitions aren't particularly grandiose. He just wants to graduate so he can help those close to him. Seeing as it's a fair honor to receive an invitation to study at such a prestigious academy it would be a disservice to his family not to accept. The money and position in society offered by such a scholarship would benefit his father and it gives him an opportunity to learn more about the world in general. He's a curious one, quite fascinated by things that would normally frighten normal folk.

Perhaps that might be because he's fairly nervous around pretty much everything to begin with. He's not a bold soul, his shyness not helping that matter. Despite this he'll go above and beyond to do right to those he owes it to. He almost never breaks a promise and holds strongly to his word. In fact a majority of his study is centered around helping out the friend he made. Outside of that he studies but as mentioned before he has little to no ambition of his own. Power is of little interest as he has few things he'd use it for and riches would only make life harder to manage so he purposefully avoids accumulating wealth to himself. Fame has little draw for him as he's nervous around company, especially crowds. Really once he's met his needs and fulfilled his obligations left to his own devices he'd largely just read up on various curiosities largely as a hobby.

He's learned to fight not out of any desire to actually see combat but rather so he can handle himself should he be separated from his friends and left to fend for himself. His natural aptitudes leave him paltry as a war magus, hardly capable of laying any degree of men to waste with any of his magic alone. He makes due with using his magic to boost his ability to fight and using brute force to fight off others. Given the chance he'd much rather let others do the fighting and simply support them with his magic but sadly that's not always an option.

Background:

Leomund is little more than a simple fisherman's son from a quaint fishing village off the shore of a great sea by the mainland. His mother died giving birth to him so for the most part it's just been him and his father. The two of them fished for a living, paying their taxes and keeping what was left for food. On good months they'd have some left over to sell in the markets. The money helped smooth over some of the poorer hauls they had so in the end it was all balanced out.

Of course his father wanted a good life for his son so naturally as a sort of plea to the fortunes he put forward an application for his son to join Seraph Academy. While ordinarily a fisherman's son would have little to no chance in joining a school like theirs luck just so happened to be in their favor. While going over application letters his application was mistakenly placed in the accepted pile which was then taken and issued congratulatory letters for their acceptance into their school. When the news got back his father celebrated.

While this was a chance for them to make it big and strike out of the humble lifestyle of simple fishermen this ultimately meant that Leomund had a long road to walk ahead of him, both figuratively and literally. Renting out the only spellbook the village held from the village elder his father had him study hard to learn a cursory amount of magic, just enough to fake an understanding of magic that would hopefully be enough to get him by at the start. Soon enough the school year would begin so to get him in on time they set him up with a pack of his belongings and set him out to go and make a future for himself in the big city.

So he set forth.

And not long after he left the village after many hours of walking night fell. With night came a band of vicious bandits, armed men who waylaid his campsite and tied him up while they looted him of all his possessions. Just as they were finished robbing him they were going to leave him for dead when from the inky depths of the darkened woods a menacing figure trudged forth. Stepping into the light of the campfire the tall and intimidating figure of a dark armored foe was revealed. She towered over each and every one of them, a veritable statue of metal, and clutched in her grip was a massive ship's anchor. It might of been rusted all across but the great bend of iron was more than thick enough to hold strong ever still. With each resounding step the chains which bound the loop of the anchor to her left arm rattled, giving off this aura of dread which filled the hearts of all who faced her. Peering down at the quivering mortals beneath her the glowing yellow eyes from the yawning darkness that was the inside of the helmet cast their dread-filling light upon the terrified rogues.

She needed not deliver a single blow as they scattered before she could even face them down. Little did they know that she had no clue what was even going on. She just wanted to say hi. Luckily for Leomund her approach was all that was needed to drive his captors off, leaving him now free albeit still bereft of all possessions with the exception of his acceptance letter which he cleverly hid in the dirt when the bandits weren't observing him.

Despite her imposing apparel Leomund found himself more thankful to this strange ominous savior of his rather than intimidated like all the others. When she spoke it was quite clear she meant him no harm. She was a wandering mercenary who traveled the land taking money in exchange for use of her unnatural strength to crush foes with the ship anchor she wielded. He asked her what the price for her service was. She just shrugged. She had no real acumen for coin so she would just accept whatever sounded good for the job. With this in mind he basically offered her the job of guarding him and in exchange when he finally made it big as a caster of some sort he'd pay for all her expenses. She agreed to it because it sounded like a good trade and he was nice about it.

And so the two of them set forward to Zauberheim. Along the way he learned that she was in fact a drowned sailor who's spent a very long time walking the ocean floor before she finally found land. Neither of them are sure how long but it was probably pretty long given how much rust her anchor had gathered. She was a strange sort with a few marbles missing for sure but given how she stepped in and helped him when he was staring at a very immediate death he's able to overlook such eccentricities.

Such is the story of how Leomund got to school. The rest, as they say, is a tale for another time. Maybe soon. Probably.

&

Gangraena

Name: Gangraena the Abyss Treader.

Appearance:

Race: Light Elf.

Magic/Abilities:

Having been restored by some ancient entity at the bottom of the ocean's deepest chasms she possesses unusual alterations to her body which have changed her greatly. The dark graft which keeps her alive also grants her an unnatural level of strength as well as nearly endless stamina. As a result of this unearthly change her ability to use any form of magic is completely forfeit. Even despite her heritages natural inclination she's never had any talent in casting anyhow.

Perhaps the strangest thing about this are the dark creatures which confer these gifts. Her body is filled with a tightly pact network of tiny ichorous tendrils which grasp one another, forming a network capable of exerting such force. They communicate each other through the dark magic they've been fused with. There is no part of her that ceases to move regardless of how badly she's torn apart. Even in the case of decapitation her body will continue to move as if still connected to her head, albeit a bit more awkwardly given the disconnect between her head's position and her body's. Thanks to the tendrils breathing is no longer required and they are sustained by the dark magic, sustaining her in turn. Her tolerance for pain much like her stamina is no less plentiful and despite completely lacking eyes the dark magic confers a special sight which allows her to see as any normal person of her former species would.

These symbiotes have some other curious properties that it confers upon it's host. She is highly resiliant to dark magic and while normal methods of healing bear no effect on her some curses will actually restore her vitality.

Lastly as a result of an ancient pact between her dark benefactor and the oceans themselves the water will never bring her damage or decay. While variety of aquatic beastmen can decide for themselves at large many of the true beasts of the deep will ignore her.

Personality:

Despite being a creature close to all would consider wholly unnatural she's pretty chipper about it all. She's a bright and sunny soul who just so happens to be a barnacle-ridden mess of dark magic who has spent several thousand years trudging the deepest reaches of the ocean in search of land. While many a mind would shatter in the fathomless length of time spent wandering in pitch black waters she seems to have come away from it rather well. Perhaps maybe that alone is it's own form of insanity.

Even in life she was never the sharpest tool in the shed. She's extremely trusting and often a poor judge of character. Though she might be quite naive her experience in combat during her time ashore clearly shows. She understands violence quite well and quickly resorts to such methods in the face of most obstacles. She's nearly impossible to threaten and negative emotions run past her with plenty of haste as she flits back to a positive frame of mind quite easily.

As a bit of a side effect from the whole process her knowledge of her own past is spotty at best. Bits and pieces are left floating in a gulph of darkness and not just the stretch of time occupying her memory where nothing but walking occured and darkness was all she could see. Oftentimes she can be rather addle-minded, forgetful and quite easily confused as well. She means well though and generally holds little ill-will towards most folks. Her aims are simply enough to go from day to day, surviving and spending time with good friends when she can. Quite frankly anything is better than wandering the depths of the ocean so she's quite easy to please.

Background:

A long time ago in a large port city run by the light elves were a family of sailors. When she was of age she'd join her father on his voyages, traveling the waters aboard their seaworthy vessel. One night however the weather was particularly stormy and the ship was overturned. Most of the sailors aboard the ship drowned that night but Gangraena's fate was chosen by a different force. As she begun to drown shadowy forces dragged her below, pulling her body well into the depths. Even as she lost consciousness her form drifted inbetween the great oceanic crags and into the great tear in the earth's face below the waves.

So deep below she was pulled. She was dragged into depths which in ordinary circumstances would hold pressures too great for the soft bodies of most surface dwellers. This was no ordinary circumstance however, dark magic protecting her from the dangers of the deep until she was brought into a long forgotten temple which had sunk into the ocean ages ago. This mysterious entity took her into it's flooded halls and set her upon it's unearthly altar. Though drowned she was not wholly dead before it began the process.

When she awoke everything was dark. There was only water in her lungs and there was no light to see by. Without anything to go by she started to float about without direction. As she left the temple she was starting to float away so she grasped around herself for something to hold onto. She managed to grab hold of the anchor which had fallen off her ship which was destroyed in the storm. With the anchor weighing her down she was able to set her feet on the ground and begin her long trek, dragging the anchor along behind her like it was some old oar.

_
From then on she simply walked. She had no direction to follow so she'd simply walk until she ran into something and then try to walk around that. This continued for thousands upon thousands of years. Though long as such a trek might be it could of been shorter but she had a terrible sense of direction and often wound up walking in circles for many years at a time. Sometimes she would fall into pits that could swallow mountains and occasionally she'd run into mountains that make those of the surface world seem pitifully small by comparison. Being a realm vastly larger than the surface land it's features often dwarfed those that appeared above.

For a time so long it beggars the imagination she simply wandered the depths, anchor in hand. Eventually she stumbled into a village of deep ones. They fled at the sight of her though she couldn't understand why. She followed where some of them went and it led her near a city by the shore. She tried to go through the city but the guards kept yelling and sticking spears in her so she went around it instead. Eventually she reached shore at long last. She walked along the beach after that, dragging along her rust crusted anchor until she eventually found a port town. There she hung around until she learned their language, the locals giving her reasonable distance given her appearance but otherwise simply assuming she's just another deep one.

Once she was able to understand people she used her great strength to help people, asking very little in exchange. Most of the armor she's now owner of are pieces from warriors she's felled in her travels. One night she came and scared off a group of bandits, rescuing a young man named Leomund. As thanks he offered to pay her back later on when he was a more renown mage. She accepted, offering in turn to keep him safe until then. She didn't have anything better to do so it seemed like a fair deal.

And such is the story of how Gangraena met Leomund. Also some other stuff.

Razelia: The Kingdom Of Magic (FINISHED)

@PaulHaynek Alright. I suppose redefining this character's state as "Questionably alive" in that they aren't wholly dead but also behave rather different from most living beings would be more appropriate?

Razelia: The Kingdom Of Magic (FINISHED)

@PaulHaynek - Excellent news that. I may be able to suffice for one but for the other there simply is little substituting anything else in for it.

As far as your mention regarding death and spirits the method of reanimation is barred only to extremely powerful beings such as gods correct? Is there a concrete understanding to which entities exist in this realm that fit something close to that description or is that flexible? I'm happy to discuss possible alterations to the background I'm designing for her if you have changes that would help make her better suit your setting. I'll have something more concrete to present when I finish her background. I'm just doing my student's background first before I get to her CS.

Razelia: The Kingdom Of Magic (FINISHED)

Excellent. I shall get my CS's written up.

@PaulHaynek - By the way, in regards to appearance is an image strictly requires or will text suffice?