Bartimaeus

Grimm Noir [Rebooting~]

“The Grimm give us no mercy. They deserve none in turn.”

Dune on fighting the Grimm

Dune Hatchet

Name

Dune Hatchet

Age

18

Race

Faunus (Grey Wolf)

Nationality

Mistrali

Physical Description

Dune isn't a particularly outstanding individual, at least among the Faunus. She possesses a head of partially-unkempt, dim gray hair which she is content to leave where it lies, not bothering to style it in any particular fashion. This dark silvery hair contrasts the fairness of her skin and highlights the light golden hue of her eyes, which seem especially watchful. These features combined with the mature mien she expresses can make her seem as though she leans toward the more sober
side - which isn't wrong.

When it comes to physique, Dune also isn't unusual in any outstanding regard, aside from her androgynous appearance, if one were to count that. She boasts some muscle definition from training, but she isn't strapped. She does, however, possess a more unique physical feature in a slim, thick-furred canid tail with the same coloration as her hair, though with a darker gray tip.

She prefers to keep a wardrobe of mostly darker colors, and prefers comfort and/or function over fashion - though she does regularly wear a clean, black Bolero hat which once belonged to her mother.

Characterization

Sedate is likely the most apt way to describe Dune in one word. Her sober mood is the forwardmost detail of her personality, most who've met her would say. Though that's not to say she's a killjoy - she is open to venturesome activities, but her hesitance to get close to others makes her a tad bit awkward when it comes to pursuing such things.

Her stolidity of sorts is, however, a steadfast effigy for others to rely on in intense situations. Dune is seemingly very strong-willed - even if she takes no opportunity to show it day to day, she has stalwart nerves. Were she more communicative, this resolute nature would make her a very good leader - though as is, her teamwork skills are lacking.

Backstory

Dune's upbringing was a bit of an unusual one.

She was born the only child to two wealthy Mistrali. Arylide and Fallow Hatchet were wed shareholders of a respectable stock in the Mistral Mining Company, and were active members in one of the leading institutions of Grimm field-study. Due to the latter of these facts, they duo took it upon themselves to reside amongst one of the small villages situated in the lands west of Mistral. They bolstered the village against the Grimm with their wealth, allowing them to live there more comfortably than one may expect.

It was only a year or so that they'd live in the village before Fallow discovered her enceintity. There was a short period of worry for them about raising their child in such a dangerous area when all of Mistral was available to them, but ultimately they decided it was safe enough. Which was true enough - mostly. Although the village was well defended for quite a time, it was in Dune's pre-teen years that their confidence proved to be in vain. The village was sieged by a group of Grimm that managed to catch a gap in its defenses, wreaking absolutely destruction on the people. It was a horror of an attack for the village goers, but for Dune the destruction around her was almost in slow motion - for one of the first attacks of the Grimm decimated her home and trapped the whole family inside. It was in desperation that Dune tried to free her parents from the flaming ruin of the house, trying to persevere against the heat and blaze of the destruction. Her efforts were in vain though and she was eventually rescued herself from the inferno by her emerging semblance, though not without physical and emotional scars of her own - for the flames scarred her body and the sudden loss of her parents scarred her mind.

It took her quite a time to recover from the physical trauma - her body eventually returning to "normal" through the use of grafts, and a robotic prosthetic for her right arm - but the mental trauma shaped her personality to the current day. After that day she was less responsive - and certainly less outgoing. It even took her a time to begin talking to her grandmother, who she began to live with in Mistral. Even though she became a solemn and distant girl - she still had aspirations. One of which was to destroy the Grimm to achieve a form of justice for her family. It wouldn't bring them back, nothing would - but she didn't know how else to cope. And so from a young age, she pled a fealty to the destruction of the Grimm. Her grandmother was concerned, but couldn't stop the girl from getting what she wanted, and Dune eventually reached the point where she could finally take the initiation exam.

Semblance

Scatter
Dune's semblance is one that, although not well-exercised, is still very useful for escaping problematic scenarios and enabling more devastating attacks. Scatter allows Dune to warp anything her aura runs through in a special manner, rupturing it into billions of tiny, bright particles for a very brief period before reforming it. Her articulation of her Semblance isn't very progressed, so she has only managed to utilize it when directing it at herself and materials on her person. She has, however, learned how to move the particles since she's started trying to train it. Scatter becomes more and more taxing with successive activations.

Weapon & Fighting Style

Dune's weapon^* has yet to be named, but is nonetheless a formidable tool. Upon donning the thick yet lightweight gauntlet, the set of dormant coils wrapped around it come to life as Dune's Aura surges through them, causing them to swell into two long and flexible, yet exceptionally durable, tendrils. The tendrils appear to be very much completely prehensile and can extend quite a distance, allowing them serviceable reach with the slim blades that grace each tip. The gauntlet is capable of taking in dust crystals - usually gravity dust, to allow the tendrils to contend with the strength of the Grimm - which it can also expel in a close-range, medium-strength blast through a disc situated on the palm.

Dune uses the physical strength and agility of her tendril weapon to outmaneuver and sometimes match the strength of the Grimm. Their reach and general girth of utility make them a particularly useful weapon offensively and defensively, however they are rather risky compared to true ranged weapons, as she still has to get somewhat close - only being able to outrange the Grimm by a small margin, in most cases.

Intangibles

Dune is both fortunate and not in the sense that her past has both strengthened and weakened her. After the incident when she was younger, her left eye was replaced by a robotic prosthetic eye, and her right arm in a similar manner - giving her a tokenbag of advantages over her colleagues. However, she is clearly not a team player, yet - and she is reluctant to retreat even if those around her are unwilling to help her against slim odds. This is not to say she isn't a capable strategist - she is fairly quick-witted in a battle, but taking others into account isn't hardwired into her brain.

Grimm Noir [Rebooting~]

Ayy, let's go. I look forward to getting into it with you lot.

Grimm Noir [Rebooting~]

Personally I've only had good experiences with discord involved in RPs. Just allows for extremely quick communication in comparison to posting in ooc imo. It's not for everyone tho ofc.

[CLOSED DUE TO INACTIVITY] Persona Ω: Antumbra Joker Pandemonium

I'll just throw my WIP here cuz am sleepy.

Aaxie

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Name

Aaxie Kelly

Age

20

Gender

Female

Appearance

Aaxie, as one would probably expect from a voguish pop singer, is a rather fashionable individual. Her heart-shaped face is framed partially by her tussled blonde hair, which is usually styled in a messily textured, long-pixie cut. Beneath her thin eyebrows rest a set of striking and expressive bright-cherry-red eyes, which she usually contrasts using opposite-colored earrings, of which helixes are her favorite. It's easy to find her youthful lips formed into any form of smirk or smile.

When pertaining to physique, Aaxie isn't a slouch when it comes to keeping in shape. She's still a bit on the smaller side, standing only at 5'4", but weighs a little more than average at around 140lbs due to her regular workout routine. Her shoulders are slim but defined in musculature, and the same can be said for her arms; she can at least elicit a few hoots with some flexing. Although it doesn't particularly help with her career, Aaxie especially enjoys powerlifting as a hobby, which is also somewhat evident in her legs and general physique. All in all she's a leanly muscular, yet petite, girl.

When it comes to her wardrobe, she mostly just wears whatever she feels like. She doesn't stick to one particular style and just mish-mashes her wardrobe together on a whim. She does, however, very much prioritize comfortable clothes and smallish accessories that she thinks are attractive or otherwise cute, such as chokers, various types of earrings, thigh straps, etc. etc. She's also no stranger to the occasional cross-dress-ish outfits - if it's cute or cool, she'll wear it. One thing she refuses to wear though is makeup - although she does enjoy eyeliner, that's the extent of her makeup desires.

Personality

Aaxie is a pretty lively girl. She's outgoing, playful, and curious. She gets along with most people, and those she doesn't(usually through them not liking her), she'll still probably try to get to know them. She enjoys being adventurous, and is usually easy to talk into trying new things. She's a decidedly down-to-earth girl, and doesn't give off any signs conceitedness, often genuinely downplaying her popularity or achievements.
Although it's difficult to find the girl in a downcast mood, she does have her moments in her lone time. On the note of serious topics or situations, the girl has a surprising amount of firmity in her beliefs - social, political, or otherwise - and, on the softer side, is always willing to lend a shoulder to cry on to those in need.

Backstory

Aaxie had a simple and cushy upbringing. She was born in Sydney, Australia to two successful doctors. Being an only child, she was very much expected to carry on the family profession - which she entertained for a bit. But in reality, she wasn't entirely interested in becoming a doctor. She defiantly attended vocal and singing classes through money she stole from her mother's purse on a regular basis - reasoning that they definitely wouldn't miss it. She got away with doing so for a few years before she eventually confessed her desires to be a singer to her parents, who quickly brushed off the idea - but when they heard her sing they were visibly shocked. Okay, maybe singing wasn't such a bad idea for the young girl, but they didn't particularly like the type of music she chose to sing. They convinced (read: forced) her to choose something "more classy than rock or metal". Feeling a little heartbroken, she chose the next closest thing: pop. Her parents still weren't too thrilled, but at least it wasn't metal.

With their daughter's newfound talent at hand, they hurriedly rushed her into vocal classes, unknowing of the ones she previously took. She sailed through the classes, thoroughly enjoying the praise she received at her well-controlled vocals, but she was equally conflicted that she wouldn't be performing what she truly wanted to. She pushed through regardless, and quickly found herself sponsored by her own parents with everything she would need to start a singing career.

She was 17 when she started gaining popularity. Her vocals were a hit immediately, possessing a bright and easily flexible voice with a ton of range, making it easy for her to sing in ways other young artists couldn't. Over the next few years she became very popular, easing comfortably into the top-echelon of singers - she wasn't a household name, but every music-nerd worth their salt knew her name. Not that she particularly sought the attention or needed the praise - in truth, the girl loved making others happy and sharing her passion for singing, and would try her best to inspire her audience. All the while though, she felt her true desire sit heavily in her gut. She would give anything to sing what she truly wanted - that being rock and metal music - but it seemed like she was meant to sing pop. Or at least, that's what everybody else seemed to think. And who was she to tell them they're wrong?

Skills

Aaxie's practical skills are pretty few, due to the nature of her career. She's a very talented singer, and has a penchant for making things look nice, whether it be hair, clothes, or whatever else. She's also a talented lifter and could serve as a decent fitness coach. Beyond that, her skills are limited. She does know a few self-defense techniques though - learned at the behest of her career team, of course.

Abilities

Aaxie's Arcana grants her the obvious enhanced physicality as well as a handful of magical effects that reside within the Water and Psychic elements.

• Swerve [Psychic]: Enables the user to alter the accuracy of attacks that she focuses on through an invisible psychic beam - hindering her foes or aiding her allies.
• Detainment Bubble [Psychic/Water]: Creates a tear-shaped bubble of psychically-infused water a few meters across to capture enemies or their attacks. She can control and manipulate this bubble as she pleases, and can expel its contents violently - enabling her to send attacks back at opponents. She can only hold something in the bubble for around six seconds before it destabilizes. When idle, the bubble floats next to the user.
• Frost Bite [Water]: The user summons water before it bursts into flaky white snow, which falls into her hands in the shape of dual Frost-axes. They function as normal axes, but inflict a painful slowing effect onto those they wound.
• Bellow [Psychic]: Releases a powerful boom of sound that violently concusses anything in a four-meter cone from the user. The bellow grows stronger the emptier the cone's area is, so it is extremely disruptive against projectile attacks, making them fly very much off-course - but even one person being within its area will weaken it to just a moderate concussive blast that's capable of rendering civilians unconscious, and stun Persona users with a deafening toll. Can also be cast as a stationary trap which will trigger intelligently via the user's whims.

Arcana

Aaxie is blessed by the Arcana of Temperance - featuring the compromises she endures in life, the duality of her desires and her true destiny, and the synthesis of realization that is to come.

Shadow

The Shadow of Aaxie's psyche is formed through her nigh-crippling fears of rejection and outstanding failure that she keeps at bay deep down. Despite the success of her career, she still is very much afraid of being suddenly shunned by everyone. She disappointed her parents in her younger days and felt how hurtful it was to be unappreciated, and the memory of that urges her to chase a twisted compromise of her own dreams.

The regular form of her shadow is simply an ichor reflection of Aaxie's own visage, albeit dressed a little more biker-y. However, the 'monstrous' form of her shadow is a bit more unnerving, as it forms into a featureless, robotic mannequin of sorts. The face is blank yet somehow glaring, offering only an invisible stare and hushed yet coarse musical cords flowing through a small speaker that replaces its mouth.

Persona

Talos, The Bronze Automaton.
Talos represents the epitome of being what you are destined to be. Talos was created to protect, and that he did. Aaxie's destiny seems to be that of a singer - but one must realize their destiny in its entirety to truly reach their potential - hence, her Persona is a defective manifestation of The Bronze Automaton. He takes an old, alien form of dusty bronze and ancient materials - tubular vessels lay exposed at his joints, housing the magical energy that runs through his body. Dirty, scratched plates of bygone metals form the exterior of his body, and a blank, wearied face plate appears ever-watchful to its surroundings.

In its current defective form, Talos still possesses a great hardiness, offering him minor resistances to Earth and Psychic elements, and major resistances to the Air and Water elements. He is, however, very vulnerable to the fire element.
Aside from Talos' immense strength and fortitude, he has a solid grasp on his raw ability to manipulate the magical forms of the Air element, and the physical forms of the Earth element, putting them to great use defensively and offensively.

Grimm Noir [Rebooting~]

Mmm, yes, indubitably 🧐

[CLOSED DUE TO INACTIVITY] Persona Ω: Antumbra Joker Pandemonium

I don't know much about Persona, but I've always enjoyed some pieces of its premise, so I may be interested.

Plus Yam and BC are here, so that's pretty cool.

Itiner: Heroes of Ardenfeld

Yeah Genasi seems like a tad bit of a fetch, I'd think Gowi would say - though of course I don't speak for her. She also does not like Genies apparently so there's that xP

Also I'm sure fire magic definitely wont trigger ptsd in any of our party members. Not at all..

Itiner: Heroes of Ardenfeld

Aethra, Witch of the Argent Vale

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D&D Character Sheet

Who I Am

Though she is known as something of a cryptid to the locals still inhabiting the area around the ruins of Ardenfeld, the so-called "Witch of the Argent Vale" really... doesn't live up to the hype. Spoken of in hushed tones, she is reputed to be a horned demoness who preys upon those who go too close to the old village, searing them to the bone with hellfire. In some tellings, she is a vengeful spirit -- a village maiden who gave herself over to the dark powers to survive the disaster, now driven mad with agony by the very flame she bears within her. In others, she is simply a fiend called forth by death and destruction that needs to be called down. Still others claim she's nothing but an old wives' tale, while others claim to have caught glimpses of her with their own eyes; a fleeting horned shadow in a black cloak seen watching from afar, her eyes burning like embers amidst the shadows of the forest.

Despite these fanciful stories and poetic descriptions, however, the truth of the matter is significantly more mundane. Aethra is simply a sheltered, reclusive individual who, seeing how feared she is, withdraws from any and all human contact. And, sure, perhaps she might have used her powers to create eerie, flickering fires to scare off people who got too close to her camp, but she never actually attacked anyone!

In any case, she is painfully shy, and though she hides it well, dislikes being looked at and doesn't really know how to talk to anyone with two legs. She doesn't become a blushing, stammering mess when forced to interact with others, mind you -- but even if she keeps her composure, she seldom says more than a couple words unless they're practically forced out of her. This may give the impression that rather than being shy, she's simply without feeling, or actively hateful of others. But though she never forgets an insult -- a scornful glance, or a derisive remark about her horns -- she does not hate people for acting this way. Rather, interacting with them simply makes her sad, and so she'd just rather not bother. Needless to say, this also makes her somewhat neurotic about her appearance, to the point that she usually wraps her forked tail around one of her legs and hides it under her skirt, and keeps her head down in dark places to avoid having the fiery glow of her eyes seen. Only her horns are too large to adequately hide, but even then, she does the best she can, draping a hood over her head at all times to hide the point where they actually connect to her scalp. Maybe she hopes they'll be taken for some form of decoration or garish accessory, rather than an intrinsic part of her person?

She's much more comfortable with animals, however -- especially when she thinks she's alone -- and can often be seen conversing quite cheerfully with various creatures she encounters, using the magic taught her by the spirits to communicate with and befriend anything she thinks won't judge her too harshly for being different. While her unnatural heritage does sometimes thwart these attempts too, most animals don't think twice about her horns, tail, or gleaming eyes -- after all, in this sense, she's quite similar to them.

Despite her cold exterior, she's also quite childish, displaying no small measure of awe or even fear in the face of very simple things. Big cities are utterly foreign to her, having lived first as a country girl, then as a hermit. Fanciful baubles and trinkets catch her eye quite readily, and she has a tendency to fiddle with almost any unusual or interesting thing she encounters, displaying an almost magpie-like attraction to shiny objects. And, thanks to her deprived upbringing, her standoffish attitude can oftentimes be defeated with the help of tasty food, especially sweets. Wild berries, roasted fish, and the occasional morsel of meat are all well and good, but given her insatiable curiosity and voracious appetite, she just can't resist.

My Story

Born as a peasant girl, the girl now christened with the fanciful appellation "Aethra" originally bore the much simpler name of "Mary." Her father was one of the village of Ardenfeld's foremost hunters, and was a gruff-but-gentle man who doted upon his daughter extensively. Her mother, on the other hand, was a wanderer from elsewhere -- a gypsy of sorts of unknown heritage who had ended up in Ardenfeld on her travels and cared for her father when he was, coincidentally, injured during a boar hunt. Ultimately, she decided to settle down there and marry him, and though her origins were originally regarded with some measure of suspicion at first, the other villagers quickly stopped caring. The family didn't have any outlandish customs, nor did the foreign lady have any particularly alarming physical traits. They got along well with the community and all did their part, and so quickly became just as ordinary a sight as anyone else.

Her parents loved her very much, and she would often help her mother around the house with chores or errands. She learned to cook, the basics of mending clothing, and other common household skills -- as well as a few small tricks her father taught her, such as how to carve and play a reed flute. They would wile away the hours sitting on their back step, with Mary clumsily tooting away on a small, shabby instrument of her own creation, and her mother singing along from inside. The memories are bright and warm, like a flame -- but they have since flickered and faded as the years drag on, until only embers of those warm, happy days remain. Aethra remembers little of that time now, for her peaceful childhood ended when she was only eight years old -- and after that, she tried her hardest to forget.

Her father's voice, telling them to run.

His hand, clutching an old sword.

His back as he rushed out of the house.

Her mother's grip on her hand.

A stifled cry as that grip went slack.

The fire, all around her.

The pain, the heat, the choking smoke -- and then suddenly, nothing at all.

Someone had pulled her from the flames and carried her to where the other children were hiding. Miraculously, she was mostly unharmed. Her skin was burned in places, leaving scars upon her back that persist to this day -- but she survived. Initially, this was seen as simple good fortune; but when a fire mysteriously broke out in her room at the orphanage, too -- from which she also emerged almost entirely unscathed -- people began to grow worried.

It was around this point when the dreams began. Nightmares, visions of fire and death and bloodshed -- landscapes left barren and lifeless by war. Whether it was the trauma of the attack or some kind of vision of things to come hardly mattered to her at the time, however -- because the more immediate concern was that the flames in her dreams persisted when she awoke. Opening her eyes to find fire in the palm of her hand would set her screaming, only for it to disappear when people came rushing in to check on her. She thought she was losing her mind... and others thought she was possessed. These fears only became more founded when one morning, after a particularly bad nightmare, she awoke to find that her hair had become white like an old woman's, her ears pointed, her teeth sharp, her eyes like blazing embers, and, worst of all -- horns and a forked tail had grown upon her during the night. She panicked, and this in turn once more drew people to come running to her room -- only this time, the evidence didn't just go away.

She was locked in her room, priests were called to conduct an exorcism, and Mary, not unfamiliar with what happened to monsters in fairy tales and already quite aware that she was feared by those around her, was certain that she was going to be killed. In her panic, she broke out of her room and made a run for her life. Though several people caught sight of a horned girl fleeing the city, the search parties that followed lost her trail in the deep woods, as she instinctively began to follow old hunting paths that led her back to her old home.

Arriving amidst the ruins of Ardenfeld, she found an unexpected sight. The fallen houses, the charred landscape, and the ravaged ruins that had haunted her dreams had long since given way to verdant greenery. Vines, flowers, trees, and shrubs had completely overtaken the former town, leaving nary a trace of the hell she remembered from her nightmares. There was a certain tragic beauty to it -- one that burned itself into her memories even more strongly than the trauma of that fateful night.

She wandered aimlessly through the ruins for longer than she can really remember. For a while, she occupied herself with searching for familiar places or items -- old, burnt dolls pulls from the wreckage of her house, a broken reed flute found trampled in the village lane, or a book of fairy tales she couldn't read that the headman's wife had once read aloud to the village children during the harvest festival. She gathered all these mementos in one place, and then, not knowing what else to do with them, with her tiny hands she set about burying them as a kind of memorial to what once had been.

The final trinket she found, however, she couldn't bring herself to bury. It was the broken-off handle of a shattered sword -- an heirloom that had never been meant to see combat. It must have failed its user in his hour of direst need, or surely -- surely, he would have been able to save them all. If only the blade hadn't broken, her father never would have lost his noble fight. Yet, even though he must surely have been defeated without a weapon, she couldn't find any signs of his body. Perhaps it had just burned to ash along with the others, but maybe... just maybe. Hope rekindled itself in her heart, not because she truly believed it to be possible, but quite simply because she needed something to believe in. So, she held on to this ruined keepsake, promising that she wouldn't bury it until she was certain her father was dead.

It was in this state, however, that someone -- or rather, something -- found her. On the first night, it came as a great wolf, from which the young girl hid in terror. Since it could not find her, it left -- but returned upon the second night in the guise of an owl, circling high overhead to search her out. When it found her hiding place, it left, and then returned upon the third night as a white deer -- a doe, but bearing horns like a stag. It came to her hiding place and asked of her...

"Why do you linger here, mortal? This land has already been lost to your kind, and none here yet live."

She, unsure of how to respond, answered only that she had nowhere else to go.

"Why do you not go among the living? Among your own people?"

She shook her head and said that she could not go back, for she was not welcome among them.

"And why is that?"

Because she was a monster. A bringer of fire and destruction -- and so, she only belonged in a place like this, where there was nothing left for her to destroy.

"Tell me, Little Flame, what do you see around you?"

A graveyard.

"Nay. I prithee look again, for you will find not a graveyard, but a garden. The end of your people need not be the end of this place. For the birds will build their nests among your fallen homes, and their songs shall be a lullaby to those who sleep beneath the soil. Look, Little Flame. Look and see. Even atop these graves you have dug, flowers will one day bloom."

It was beautiful, yes... but she wasn't any less lonely for knowing that. And, if that was truly the case, then she had no place here, either -- for she would only serve to destroy what nature hoped to build.

"Then, what if there were another like yourself here? Another with no place and no purpose, save to wait for and tend to what comes after the flames?"

If there was such a person, then she wouldn't want to hurt them. It would be better for her to stay alone.

"Ah, but that person needs you more than you know, Little Flame. There is a place not far from here where few tread -- a blighted, sorrowful land where the trees can no more grow, where the grass withers and fails, and from which all creatures shy away. That place was once her home, as this was once yours. And if you were to burn the rot away, then that place, too, might become a beautiful garden. I'm sure that she, and all those who once shared that home with her, would be happy."

It beggared belief that the strange power she had been granted might be used for such a purpose... but ultimately, she accepted. If that person showed herself, and could accept her as she was, then maybe she could do some good for someone who shared a similar sorrow to her own.

And so, on the fourth night, the one who came to visit her was not a wolf, or an owl, or a deer -- but rather, an old woman with a kindly smile, who introduced herself as Mithra. The girl said that she had been named Mary, but all those who knew her by that name probably hated her by now. And so, the woman gave her a new name: Aethra. A little flame, but one which could offer much to the world by burning brightly, be it in the seclusion of the wilderness or for all mankind to see. It was a name weighted with expectation, but made light by hope and joy -- for finally, there was someone who would walk with her and talk with her, and tell her that she wasn't mad and that neither the world nor her place in it had yet come to an end.

In the years that followed, she learned much under Mithra's tutelage. They lived together amidst the wild, with Aethra tending to the chores that were appointed her by her new mentor, and Mithra teaching the young Tiefling to control the flames within her, and to suppress them if need be. She learned that her powers could be used to heal and to create life in addition to simply destroying it... but also that there was a place for destruction, just as there was a place for new life to take the place of the old. Within an ever-snowy northern forest of rotted, whitened trees, hidden in a secluded valley unknown to mortal men, she worked tirelessly to perfect her craft, so that she could at last fulfill her promise to Mithra, and create for her a garden amidst this wasteland.

But there was another promise that weighed heavily upon her mind -- and as the time came to fulfill it, Mithra ordered her not to break her word, reluctant though she was to leave. And so, her two tasks became one. She would go back to the home she had left behind once more, and tend to the garden there. She would make good on her promise to speak once more with her old friends, even if they hated her or didn't recognize her after all the changes she had gone through. She would travel the world outside the Argent Vale once more, and once she had learned everything she could learn from seeing all the hopeful beginnings and fiery ends that life had to offer... she would return to Mithra, and share the fruits of her knowledge, creating a beautiful garden amidst that lifeless valley.

And yet, throughout all of this, still she is haunted by the dreams of all that she has seen -- and all that may wait for her in the world beyond. Something dark and terrible looms upon the edge of her awareness, and all that Mithra has taught her may not be enough to prepare her for it. If that day comes where her flame fails her as her father's sword failed him, or where the essence of life she strives to uphold slips from her grasp as her mother's hand slipped from hers... what will she do then?

Going Forward

At the moment, Aethra would say that she simply wants to make her mentor and surrogate grandmother Mithra proud of her, and to fulfill her promises. However, that's not entirely true. In part, her real goal upon this journey is to try to prove, both to herself and to those who once called her a monster, that her power really can be used to do great things, and that she's not the bringer of destruction she once feared she was. In seeking this, she'll also have to contend with the difficulty involved in changing people's perceptions of her, and her own wavering confidence in her own abilities as she wonders what, precisely, even is the right way for someone like her to live.

Secretly, she also perhaps holds out hope that her father might have survived the attack and still be alive somewhere... and that maybe, just maybe, some of her old friends who might still remember her from her childhood as Mary won't hate her when they see what she has become. Finally, she's also curious as to why she was cursed with the flame she bears to begin with, and from whence her daemonic heritage springs -- hoping that, perhaps, if she understands the roots of her own nature, that may bring her closer to triumphing over it, and over people's perceptions of her as a result of it.

But even leaving aside her plethora of emotional issues, the fact remains that Aethra is horribly sheltered and ignorant as to the workings of civilization and society as a whole, and she has a lot to learn before she is ready to truly save -- or destroy -- anything. Where her path and her reunion with the other survivors can take her, who can say? And what further trials fate has in store for her, only time will tell...

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@Feyblue

This sheet is amazing. Love it.

Also cats ftw. 🐈

Itiner: Heroes of Ardenfeld

nou

Itiner: Heroes of Ardenfeld

WITHDRAWN
I'm afraid I think I'm gonna have to withdraw my potentially participation in this for the time being. Still seems like a fun time so I hope y'all do have fun uwu

Twilight Worshipper

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Who I Am

River is a mellow person, most who'd met him would say. His face usually holds a neutral if not slightly soft expression, and he carries himself with respect, but not even the slightest hint of haughtiness. He is very responsive to those around him, regularly willing to offer a helping hand or word of advice - or just listen, when needed. This neighborly bearing grew from him throughout the years he spent travelling with his mentor -- the two of whom trekked through many countrysides and towns alike, greeting all inhabitants with friendly hands and faces. River adopted many of his mentor's beliefs, having been with him from a young age, but there was always a difference between them that sometimes worried the older individual. River was perhaps a bit too eager to assault the crimes of those who harmed the innocent. His mentor saw in his eyes a twisted spark whenever the young Tabaxi witnessed violent misjustice. There'd been more than one occasion where River had shocked bystanders with the viciousness with which he dealt with those who attacked the innocent. The anger embedded within him was no mystery to his mentor - the young man was clearly vengeful towards the bandit type - he remembered his beginnings - how much damage and pain those types of people could cause. And although it brought concern, it was some measure of consolation that the anger was directed towards the right people, at least.

My Story

River's origins are humble. The singular son of a cobbler and a housewife, growing up was an unexciting venture in Ardenfeld. In many towns, raising children amongst humans would be a difficult task for a family of Tabaxi - but for those who resided in Ardenfeld, it was a normal existence, the town being a melting pot as it were. Most of River's young days consisted of his mother providing him a crude education from home, and his father mentoring him in his family craft of cobbling. It was a contenting life. Until that fateful day.

After the destruction of Ardenfeld, life in the city of Sarinan was a much less comfortable existence. Despite the number of people around him increasing by quite a bit after being shoved into an orphanage, River felt more lonely than he ever had. He was confused and stricken with grief for quite a time - but eventually that grief slowly melded into a slow-burning anger. Not that he could do much about it, but it was still there. The pent-up anger settled in his stomach over the next couple years as he lived in the orphanage, feeling like a rat in a cage the entire time.

Eventually though, it had come his time to get kicked out. He turned fourteen, and the orphanage wasted no time in getting rid of him. He only had a couple days left to enjoy the relative comfort of the shelter before he'd be kicked out onto the cold stones of the street. But.. fate had different plans.

The day before River would be ejected from the orphanage a man passed by him as he sat on the lonely steps in front of what was soon to be his estranged home. The older human - perhaps in his late thirties - paused, studying the boy for a time and looking him up and down. Eventually the man stepped past the boy and entered the orphanage, closing the door behind him. He was gone for a minute...two minutes...five minutes.. and then finally the door opened again. The man stooped to River's level and asked him one simple question.

"What is your name, little one?"

There was a hesitance in the young Tabaxi's face, and he remained silent for a time before answering.

"River."

It was then that the man told him he'd been adopted. The man, named Raulin, took care of him, buying him clothes and food and whatever else he needed. He wasn't a rich man, but he had enough to care for the both of them. From that point the two of them began to travel together, leading a nomadic lifestyle. It was a bit dangerous at times, but Raulin took care of him. River learned almost everything physical he knows from Raulin. But physical skills are not everything one can learn in this world. Raulin was a follower of The Moonmaiden, Selûne. When the young Tabaxi grew curious, it was with great reverence that Raulin relayed the tales of Selûne's blessings and benevolence. And it was with great happiness that he discovered the boy's interest in learning the ways of Selûne's graciousness. This curiosity led him onto his own path of benevolence, and in part made him who he is to this day.

Going Foward

Even though he has lived a largely nomadic lifestyle since the age of 14, River isn't entirely familiar with what moving "forward" really is to him. He has traveled for a long time, gathering stories and trading them with the villages he met next, helping people along the way as well as he could, and managing to keep himself going as his final concern. The bandits who ruined his childhood have always sat somewhere in the back of his mind, but he has yet to form any sort of physical vendetta to bring justice to them - mostly because he wouldn't know quite where to start.

Beyond that, River truly wishes to make a difference in this world. He feels his ongoing good deeds are but a miniscule effect in a world that could be helped in much greater ways, and doesn't truly value himself as a helpful person. However, he is unsure as to how he can make a bigger difference. He has thrown around ideas in the past, one being military service, or perhaps clergy-ship, but ultimately figured that he isn't up to par for militant work, and not worthy enough to become a clergyman. He has however, more recently, thought over the idea of forming some sort of benefactor company/guild, but isn't exactly in the position to do so with his current resources and way of life.

What he is capable of doing, however, is keeping the promise he made all those years ago. Returning to where his life had taken a sharp turn as a child would be hard. But he had faith that Selûne would grant him the strength to do it. He was an intermediate yet devote follower of Selûne, and since his mentor's passing, she has been his only conduit in which he could entrust his innermost thoughts and feelings. Perhaps this congregation would be a chance to see himself grow stronger.