CaliforniaState

OBLIVION

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“Are you sure my hair looks okay? I don’t know maybe I just need to touch up in the bathroom really quick before they get here. You think I have time? I have time right?” Ivy exhaled in a last minute self conscious frenzy. Her fingers twirled one of her many rungs of curly hair that extended well past her shoulder. The one thing that gave Ivy away when she was stressed, was her emphatic need to be touching or fiddling with something. And what seemed like a conversation to herself was more of her just talking at the bartender. He knew not where this new found camaraderie came from, for her it was the countless days she vented at him while planning the whole thing. “Your hair looks fine for the 12th time, your lucky I don’t double your tab—“ Before he could finish, she jumped up in excitement. “They’re here!” She shouted at him, not actually certain that anyone had arrived. Though the sound of a motorcycle and various other engines sputtering out gave her inclination to believe her assumption. Ivy straightened herself up from the bar, breathed into a cupped hand and then sniffed the air, teased her hair a few more times and cleared her throat. Silhouette’s of figures scattered about like shadows jumping from a flame. They just lingered there, making Ivy wonder if they just chose to ignore her detailed directions. It wasn’t much later that the first familiar face popped in. Hanna Whittle. The race to see who’s lips coiled up into a smile first was on. It was a photo finish, quickly interrupted by Hanna practically engulfing and tackling Ivy into the the bar stand. All the warmth and memories rushed back into her persons despite being out of touch for years now. Processing the moment, her arms worked their way up the small of her back into a deep embrace. “I would say you’re suffocating me, but I don’t mind at the moment. How are you? You look great as always.” ▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔

█ #1.01 WAY DOWN WE GO grown up — danny brown hilton suites ▸ p. johnson's interacting with: barkeep ▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔

OBLIVION

Ivory

^-

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████████ PERSONAL DETAILS ████████ █ AGE Twenty-three █ GENDER Female █ SEXUALITY Queer █ OCCUPATION International Environmental Program Specialist with EPA OITA █ QUALIFICATIONS B.S. in Environmental Science George Washington Law School Alumnus Community Counsel Member █ RESIDENCE Washington D.C. ████████ PHYSICAL DETAILS ████████ █ SCARS N/A █ TATTOOS N/A █ PIERCINGS Standard Ear Piercings █ MARKINGS N/A █ HEIGHT 5'6" █ BUILD 118 lbs ██████████ MISC NOTES ██████████ [+] Jorja Smith X Preditah - On My Mind ▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔

---- Ivory Williams was a name that everyone had on their tongue, mostly because she was the second face of Ritman High, outside of the sports teams honestly. Being the head of student government meant that she did what any good President would do, understand her patrons. She wanted to see the ecosystem of their school thrive, so she made it a point to befriend and honor her friendships with basically every individual and niche group that inhabited the conventicle of Magpies. She was never fake and always found a way in her stacked schedule to help and guide those who needed it while still maintaining a healthy social life with everyone else. She was almost viewed as inhuman, and while she didn’t sit at the top of the academic ladder, she was still in the top 5. You can’t do it all without giving something in exchange, and that was enough for Ivory ---- Ivory has always been altruistic and humanitarian at heart from the onset of her consciousness. And while the world is wicked and tends to beat down on people of the same merit, it had no effect on Ivory. Perhaps from the protection and nourishment that her parents had granted her or just the sheer tenacity of her vibrant personality. She never had issue making friends and naturally attracting those to her like a bear to a fresh hive of honeycomb. Despite her aura of nobility, she does have a rather sharp sense of justice which carried her onto the path of law school. Not in the sense where she adheres to the rules and roles prescribed by old men from the past, but the protection and inalienable rights it allots to citizens and those alike. She’s organized, way more organized than one needs to be. She had a planner for her planner. Each time slot for every day of the week meticulously curated so she could make the most of her time without overwhelming herself. Structure was important to her and while she wasn’t too rigid with making addendums, she prefers to stick to the script unless persuaded otherwise. Equality is mostly what she prides herself on, whether that be socially or environmentally. Being in the school’s assembly of governance served to make the career of public administration quite enticing. She was always fighting to be the voice for her peers who were or could not be heard. Being born a Black-American woman meant she identified with several minority groups, each with its own avenue of discrimination. Her families’ roots were important to her, which led her to personally subscribe to the fight to end inequality. Ritman high was the first manifestation for this. Leaving Ritman in the rearview never really bothered her, she knew she was destined for bigger things, but she did feel as though she could have made deeper connections, attended more games, or even been part of other clubs that weren’t just resume and experience builders. She knew her reputation preceded her and was quite intimidating, but she was always approachable. ▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔

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---- Everyone is familiar with how the dinosaurs were wiped out. In case you didn’t know, it was a giant meteor from outer space. Now what they didn’t tell you is that it wasn’t just some ordinary meteor that wiped them out, but something much more powerful. Over the next several millennia the first civilization of men unearthed the remnants of this prolific meteor. What they found inside the meteor was something else something greater, within the meteor were shards of celestial energy that remained alive all these centuries. This abundance of energy stored inside was treated as a gift from the gods and worshiped as so. During ceremonial rituals the most suitable candidate to represent the village would be chosen to consume a small shard of this radiant energy. Once bonded with the host the shard granted powerful magic and a surplus of new knowledge and ideas. Civilizations prospered and thrived under the leadership of these powered individuals, much faster than what normal homo sapiens could achieve in the same timeline. However, this amount of power was uncontrollable back in the day and for all their success there was a harvest. Unable to master the power in their vessel the crystal would corrupt and overpower the user, wiping out entire civilizations seemingly overnight, forever branded as ‘lost’. Many historians theorize that civilizations such as the Maya, Indus, Anasazi, Cahokia etc. were lost, but they were just the dregs of once great civilizations. This didn’t mean the crystal was lost however, instead the crystal would trap the bonded soul inside which was intended for use by the new owner. Thus, in turn creating a link to past crystal owners and serving as an encyclopedia on information such as language, architecture, and innovation. And so, the shard was passed from civilization to civilization across the ages until one day it was marked too powerful for use. Instead of implanting it into a person the elders locked it away, planting the crystal within the front of a book. The pages had no writing or invisible ink, there were no photographs or illustrations, just simply a crystal in the front of an otherwise normal book. The powers granted by the shard granted the user a tether to the celestial plane allowing for access to magic. With the shard serving as a connection to past lives, the user can incant and recite the words necessary for these spells. This takes shape into what Ivory calls Constellation Magic which she can then use to mimic spatial anomalies into magical powers. Her powers and past lives also grant her access to preordained abilities learned from past magicians. These include illusion casting (limited) and telekinesis while the rest are still being learned. ---- For Ivory the reunion would bring her a lot of happiness and a chance to form the bonds of friendship she didn’t have time for while in High School. No background or label given to these people would matter to her. They wouldn’t grow much in the sense of personality, but in the way of learning more empathy for other backgrounds outside her career focus. Despite being the catalyst for their subjugation of the supernatural, Ivory is unaware of the consequences of wielding such power. The book will slowly poison Ivory’s soul and begin to turn her maleficent. ▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔

- █████ STRENGTHS & WEAKNESSES █████ + In a world ruled by science and logic, magic is only reserved for people who perform party tricks or those desperate enough to busk on the street. Having an otherworldly power and magic that is beyond explanation allows for potent weapons against those in opposition. Magic is rather versatile and can be choreographed with several other spells at once. Not only that but depending on the amount of magic used and incantation length directly affects the strength of the spell being used. It’s almost limitless to say as magic requires constant learning for the exploration of new possibilities. Despite being quite powerful so early on with magic and the possibilities being so endless, Ivory is still a newly anointed magician. While she has access to telekinesis, illusion casting, and her own magic, she is restricted to only being able to use one at a time. Ivory is also very weak in hand-to-hand combat and her best defense works from a good distance. Despite having mana flowing throw her veins she can overuse her powers easily, thus forcing her to be smart on use and conservation of magical energy. − ▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔

OBLIVION

@Benzaiten

Alas me as well

OBLIVION

Ivory

^-

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████████ PERSONAL DETAILS ████████ █ AGE Twenty-three █ GENDER Female █ SEXUALITY Queer █ OCCUPATION International Environmental Program Specialist with EPA OITA █ QUALIFICATIONS B.S. in Environmental Science George Washington Law School Alumnus Community Counsel Member █ RESIDENCE Washington D.C. ████████ PHYSICAL DETAILS ████████ █ SCARS N/A █ TATTOOS N/A █ PIERCINGS Standard Ear Piercings █ MARKINGS N/A █ HEIGHT 5'6" █ BUILD 118 lbs ██████████ MISC NOTES ██████████ [+] Jorja Smith X Preditah - On My Mind ▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔

---- Ivory Williams was a name that everyone had on their tongue, mostly because she was the second face of Ritman High, outside of the sports teams honestly. Being the head of student government meant that she did what any good President would do, understand her patrons. She wanted to see the ecosystem of their school thrive, so she made it a point to befriend and honor her friendships with basically every individual and niche group that inhabited the conventicle of Magpies. She was never fake and always found a way in her stacked schedule to help and guide those who needed it while still maintaining a healthy social life with everyone else. She was almost viewed as inhuman, and while she didn’t sit at the top of the academic ladder, she was still in the top 5. You can’t do it all without giving something in exchange, and that was enough for Ivory ---- Ivory has always been altruistic and humanitarian at heart from the onset of her consciousness. And while the world is wicked and tends to beat down on people of the same merit, it had no effect on Ivory. Perhaps from the protection and nourishment that her parents had granted her or just the sheer tenacity of her vibrant personality. She never had issue making friends and naturally attracting those to her like a bear to a fresh hive of honeycomb. Despite her aura of nobility, she does have a rather sharp sense of justice which carried her onto the path of law school. Not in the sense where she adheres to the rules and roles prescribed by old men from the past, but the protection and inalienable rights it allots to citizens and those alike. She’s organized, way more organized than one needs to be. She had a planner for her planner. Each time slot for every day of the week meticulously curated so she could make the most of her time without overwhelming herself. Structure was important to her and while she wasn’t too rigid with making addendums, she prefers to stick to the script unless persuaded otherwise. Equality is mostly what she prides herself on, whether that be socially or environmentally. Being in the school’s assembly of governance served to make the career of public administration quite enticing. She was always fighting to be the voice for her peers who were or could not be heard. Being born a Black-American woman meant she identified with several minority groups, each with its own avenue of discrimination. Her families’ roots were important to her, which led her to personally subscribe to the fight to end inequality. Ritman high was the first manifestation for this. Leaving Ritman in the rearview never really bothered her, she knew she was destined for bigger things, but she did feel as though she could have made deeper connections, attended more games, or even been part of other clubs that weren’t just resume and experience builders. She knew her reputation preceded her and was quite intimidating, but she was always approachable. ▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔

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---- Everyone is familiar with how the dinosaurs were wiped out. In case you didn’t know, it was a giant meteor from outer space. Now what they didn’t tell you is that it wasn’t just some ordinary meteor that wiped them out, but something much more powerful. Over the next several millennia the first civilization of men unearthed the remnants of this prolific meteor. What they found inside the meteor was something else something greater, within the meteor were shards of celestial energy that remained alive all these centuries. This abundance of energy stored inside was treated as a gift from the gods and worshiped as so. During ceremonial rituals the most suitable candidate to represent the village would be chosen to consume a small shard of this radiant energy. Once bonded with the host the shard granted powerful magic and a surplus of new knowledge and ideas. Civilizations prospered and thrived under the leadership of these powered individuals, much faster than what normal homo sapiens could achieve in the same timeline. However, this amount of power was uncontrollable back in the day and for all their success there was a harvest. Unable to master the power in their vessel the crystal would corrupt and overpower the user, wiping out entire civilizations seemingly overnight, forever branded as ‘lost’. Many historians theorize that civilizations such as the Maya, Indus, Anasazi, Cahokia etc. were lost, but they were just the dregs of once great civilizations. This didn’t mean the crystal was lost however, instead the crystal would trap the bonded soul inside which was intended for use by the new owner. Thus, in turn creating a link to past crystal owners and serving as an encyclopedia on information such as language, architecture, and innovation. And so, the shard was passed from civilization to civilization across the ages until one day it was marked too powerful for use. Instead of implanting it into a person the elders locked it away, planting the crystal within the front of a book. The pages had no writing or invisible ink, there were no photographs or illustrations, just simply a crystal in the front of an otherwise normal book. The powers granted by the shard granted the user a tether to the celestial plane allowing for access to magic. With the shard serving as a connection to past lives, the user can incant and recite the words necessary for these spells. This takes shape into what Ivory calls Constellation Magic which she can then use to mimic spatial anomalies into magical powers. Her powers and past lives also grant her access to preordained abilities learned from past magicians. These include illusion casting (limited) and telekinesis while the rest are still being learned. ---- For Ivory the reunion would bring her a lot of happiness and a chance to form the bonds of friendship she didn’t have time for while in High School. No background or label given to these people would matter to her. They wouldn’t grow much in the sense of personality, but in the way of learning more empathy for other backgrounds outside her career focus. Despite being the catalyst for their subjugation of the supernatural, Ivory is unaware of the consequences of wielding such power. The book will slowly poison Ivory’s soul and begin to turn her maleficent. ▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔

- █████ STRENGTHS & WEAKNESSES █████ + In a world ruled by science and logic, magic is only reserved for people who perform party tricks or those desperate enough to busk on the street. Having an otherworldly power and magic that is beyond explanation allows for potent weapons against those in opposition. Magic is rather versatile and can be choreographed with several other spells at once. Not only that but depending on the amount of magic used and incantation length directly affects the strength of the spell being used. It’s almost limitless to say as magic requires constant learning for the exploration of new possibilities. Despite being quite powerful so early on with magic and the possibilities being so endless, Ivory is still a newly anointed magician. While she has access to telekinesis, illusion casting, and her own magic, she is restricted to only being able to use one at a time. Ivory is also very weak in hand-to-hand combat and her best defense works from a good distance. Despite having mana flowing throw her veins she can overuse her powers easily, thus forcing her to be smart on use and conservation of magical energy. − ▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔

OBLIVION ▋ a linear superhero roleplay

Boop

A Thousand Legends ~ Sundered Veil

Bizi-Gan

Bizi-Gan, The Betrayer

The monkey's paw was always both of my hands.

---

___________________________________ P R O F I L E Age 37 Race Mokeu Sex Male Height 195.58 cm Weight 85 kg Level 1 Health Points 28 ___________________________________ I N V E N T O R Y -Gourd -Coiling Dragon Staff -Large jade pot secured on back ____________________________________ E Q U I P M E N T - Coiling Dragon Staff - Jade Pot - Jade and leather belt, with a leather and jade wrist guard on his left forearm. ____________________________________ A T T R I B U T E S Might: 16 (+3) Dexterity: 16 (+3) Perception: 10 Wisdom: 12 (+2) Charisma: 10 Constitution: 14 (+4)

____________________________________________________________________________ APPEARANCE Aged. The most apt way to describe the elder Mokeu. It’s not that the Mokeu didn’t age gracefully, it was just that Bizi-Gan did not. Life on the road and seated with a thousand emotions had casually stripped away the grace and longevity from his skin. Instead of regaling himself in armors and cloths of the finest that the kingdom had to offer, he instead wore tattered tunics and ripped scraps of leather bound by non-uniform-colored straps. The hodge-podge outfit really pulled together his ancient look. The hair on his face has gone decades without being shaven or seen sufficient upkeep. Instead, it runs wildly, unable to pinpoint where it starts and when it ends. It lines the outer rim of his jaw before seamlessly connecting to the sideburns of his head and joining the mess of hair, somewhat stabilized, held by a single jade cuff. There’s three things distinct and unique to Bizi-Gan compared to the rest of his clan. The menacing cumulonimbus clouds that swirled around his eyes to shape his eyebrows. A singular canine that hooked upwards on his left side, meaning his right had been taken. And the adornments of jade that littered his body and weapons. Perhaps it was a memento from a clan once known. ____________________________________________________________________________ BACKSTORY Bizi-Gan wasn’t always the bitter old man that had little in the way of pleasantries and time. Growing up in the Jade Plains saw freedom and a life left of wanting for naught. Cool air grazing over high fields of grass and the smell of spring always induced a natural curiosity and comfort in Bizi. The Jade Plains Tribe was a small one, but that made his time with them all the more intimate. Most of the tribe worried about politics, but Bizi never really had an eye nor an ear out for those state of affairs. And why should an adolescent need to do so anyways? Instead, he found his calling in being a warrior. It wasn’t anything revolutionary as you were either a farmer a warrior or a politician. The feeling only solidified when his paw touched the smooth but hardened texture of a practice staff. From there on, Bizi would do everything to become an accomplished warrior, distinguished between the rest. However, there was one in the tribe that always kept him on his toes and made a pass for excellence as well. Zhao-Fu, a Mokeu with an inviting, gentle face, but with the down stroke of a falling tree. The two started off as enemies but that rivalry that simmered quickly turned to companionship as no one else was obsessed with mastery quite like them. The jealousy became admiration and then the rest was history. The two were nearly inseparable, comparting meals together, bathing together, and training together obviously. Yet as they aged, the fire within Zhao-Fu began to grow pale. It seemed liked he was torn between martial arts and doing what was best for the village. Bizi-Gan was unable to see what the world politics had to offer that martial arts couldn’t. Being the strongest under heaven meant that their power could bring anyone to their knees. Something even the most eloquent Mokeu could not accomplish with just words. The more Zhao-Fu matured with age, the opposite held true for Bizi. Like an unripe fruit, Bizi was sour, sour at the thought that their traditions of honoring their ancestors and nature was stupid. The clan leaders approach to the clans future with peace and acceptance of others was simply going to get them killed. Bizi-Gan wouldn’t lay down and die, he would live on and become the strongest of the two kingdoms. One final fight between the two old friends had served as the schism that pushed, or rather forced, the two to travel on their own paths. There was a slightly reluctance for Bizi to leave as he wanted his friend to fight for him to stay more, but he knew being exiled was the best for both students. So he left and disappeared into the clouds and the mountains. In the beginning of his youth he traveled, fighting his way through villages and kingdoms to gain money and fame. He found his way being a hired hand and knew opulence for a while. You can only sharpen a weapon to a point and soon the fire in him was beginning to burn out as well. Power meant nothing if he could not do anything with it, specifically to help his tribe. Instead he decided to rescind his power and return to the Jade Plains tribe in hopes of amnesty with his former friend and tribesman. Except what he found was destruction and death in wake of his return. His knees trembled and for the first time in a while he felt weak and gaunt. The smell of rotting flesh and blood curdled in his nose and sucked the life from his bones. Bizi-Gan rampaged through the village looking for his friend, but to no avail. He had either survived or had been taken. Either way, Bizi-Gan would have his revenge. That’s when he saw his reflection in a pool of water, he was mortified by his own image. Hatred is all he saw, and he knew that his intentions of finding peace were fleeting ambitions. Disgusted by his narrowness, he summited the tallest mountain in their valley and locked himself away from humanity to begin his journey to salvation. When it was time, he would come down and reintroduce himself to the world. ____________________________________________________________________________ PERSONALITY Weathered. Bizi-Gan has seen a lot and done even more within the allotted amount of years provided to his species. Life has casually eroded at him like stone facing the brunt of constant onslaught of rapid waves. This has allowed him to become rounded, smooth at the edges, and overall more refined. It wasn’t always like this. In his younger days he was more of the wave than the stone, he was a constant force of nature with only one track to follow. Sure there were ebbs and flows and even natural borders that diverted his path, but like water he was able to change shape to get through and meet up again and continue on. Having spent a lot of time in isolation gave way to learning how to slow down and take the world in for what it was. What he discarded as a teen he regained in his old age. He was now attuned with the spirituality that held a grip on the politics of the Mokeu people. His rage had been reigned in and instead he acted with nature in mind. While he has done a complete paradigm shift, the isolation took a toll on his social skills. He is still very plain and dry, curt in his offerings, and seemingly always judging with a grimace on his face. However, he’s never of ill intent and is looking for the most direct point and advice he can give. ____________________________________________________________________________ MOTIVATION AND OUTLOOK Bizi-Gan has a few motivations and outlooks now that he’s entered the realm of living once more. Although almost impossible, he looks to revive the Jade Plains Tribe, how he will, no one knows? He’s also looking to take on a pupil. What he wasn’t able to teach himself or correct he can find in a student as if looking in a mirror. He’s looking to continue his cheery outlook by learning more about cultures and knowledge afforded to him on his journey. Lastly he hopes to find his lost friend and make amends for the damage he imparted upon his exile. ____________________________________________________________________________ MISC The jade capsule attached to his back is an excellent source of stamina training and weight training. Taking it off makes him light on his feet, much faster than he already is. Secondly, he stores powders on him that he pours into the capsule and then ignites. The smoke that emits from the capsule can have several varying properties. The most common, a smoke screen, that aids in his martial arts and staff combat.

A Thousand Legends ~ Sundered Veil

Wind swept through the great plains with a force seeking to shake the landscape of the lush green grass in the foreground. Tall grass flickered and rustled in every which direction, almost dancing in the presence of the wind. To Bizi Gan it looked more like cowering which left him unamused. His gaze was fixated on the unmoving and stoic presence of the dense trees that created a thicket of understory canopy for him to relax in. While their leaves shuttered from the wind only a few fell, perhaps their only purpose. Beyond the howling was the incessant noise of scratching, the sound of stubby fingers running through coarse, matted fur. It was enough to know that he had gone a few days without bathing from the sheer scrunching. As noble and intelligent of a race they were, escaping the primal ceremonies of the Mokeu ancestors was harder than anticipated.

He spent an unsanctimonious amount of time properly grooming himself and checking for any hitchhikers that accompanied him like a ferry. A strand of barley or some kind of wheat stuck out of his mouth, slowly moving back and forth through his molars. It only took a few months, but the old coot had finally decided to begin his descent from his perch above it all. He wasn’t confident in his assumption, but there could be more information on Zhao-Fu. Wishful thinking it may have been, yet it was enough for him to begin his journey. Assuring he had everything he needed he took in the surrounding once more before turning his back on his home for the last time. This time the grass didn’t look like a dance ensemble, instead in some sense, they were waving him farewell.

Days turned into nights, terrain turned from grass to mud to stone and back again. Some days were sweltering hot only to be disrupted by swelling of clouds followed by a downpour that felt like salvation. Nights brought on a brisk cold that was no match for his fur. Bizi-Gan experienced it all with unwavering patience. And while the scenery changed around him, he remained unnerved with the same unyielding expression. It was rather obvious when he was entering civilization once more, open fields were replaced with decadent buildings of varying sizes. Livestock was huddled into little farms connected to bridges and paved roads. The shrill sound of children’s happiness and sadness echoed through bustling streets of commerce. Had the opinion of Mokeu people changed since he locked himself away?

Whatever the case he ate when he wanted, rested when he needed and continued on. With the entrance of humanity he was able to learn of gossip and news loose on the lips of anyone who would have it. The most poignant information that burned through the towns was the talks of the emperor’s death. The festivities of Wan Yue cut short in the grand city of Bianewi by imposters adorned in regalia of the people. Bizi-Gan traced the grooves on his jade bracers when they mentioned the Ruby Palace. The contrast of the two minerals felt intentional, with his being a bit more auspicious. He rose from his seat and decided to venture to the Imperial Square. More questions than answers it seemed to pose.

It wasn’t more than a few days before Bizi-Gan arrived. The city was clearly still in a period of mourning. The people had fallen on harsh times and even worse living conditions. Finding suitable work or information here would be harder than he imagined. Nevertheless, he ventured into the once source that flowed with information in the shape of a glass, a tavern.

A Thousand Legends ~ Sundered Veil

Bizi-Gan

Bizi-Gan, The Betrayer

The monkey's paw was always both of my hands.

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___________________________________ P R O F I L E Age 37 Race Mokeu Sex Male Height 195.58 cm Weight 85 kg Level 1 Health Points 28 ___________________________________ I N V E N T O R Y -Gourd -Coiling Dragon Staff -Large jade pot secured on back ____________________________________ E Q U I P M E N T - Coiling Dragon Staff - Jade Pot - Jade and leather belt, with a leather and jade wrist guard on his left forearm. ____________________________________ A T T R I B U T E S Might: 16 (+3) Dexterity: 16 (+3) Perception: 10 Wisdom: 12 (+2) Charisma: 10 Constitution: 14 (+4)

____________________________________________________________________________ APPEARANCE Aged. The most apt way to describe the elder Mokeu. It’s not that the Mokeu didn’t age gracefully, it was just that Bizi-Gan did not. Life on the road and seated with a thousand emotions had casually stripped away the grace and longevity from his skin. Instead of regaling himself in armors and cloths of the finest that the kingdom had to offer, he instead wore tattered tunics and ripped scraps of leather bound by non-uniform-colored straps. The hodge-podge outfit really pulled together his ancient look. The hair on his face has gone decades without being shaven or seen sufficient upkeep. Instead, it runs wildly, unable to pinpoint where it starts and when it ends. It lines the outer rim of his jaw before seamlessly connecting to the sideburns of his head and joining the mess of hair, somewhat stabilized, held by a single jade cuff. There’s three things distinct and unique to Bizi-Gan compared to the rest of his clan. The menacing cumulonimbus clouds that swirled around his eyes to shape his eyebrows. A singular canine that hooked upwards on his left side, meaning his right had been taken. And the adornments of jade that littered his body and weapons. Perhaps it was a memento from a clan once known. ____________________________________________________________________________ BACKSTORY Bizi-Gan wasn’t always the bitter old man that had little in the way of pleasantries and time. Growing up in the Jade Plains saw freedom and a life left of wanting for naught. Cool air grazing over high fields of grass and the smell of spring always induced a natural curiosity and comfort in Bizi. The Jade Plains Tribe was a small one, but that made his time with them all the more intimate. Most of the tribe worried about politics, but Bizi never really had an eye nor an ear out for those state of affairs. And why should an adolescent need to do so anyways? Instead, he found his calling in being a warrior. It wasn’t anything revolutionary as you were either a farmer a warrior or a politician. The feeling only solidified when his paw touched the smooth but hardened texture of a practice staff. From there on, Bizi would do everything to become an accomplished warrior, distinguished between the rest. However, there was one in the tribe that always kept him on his toes and made a pass for excellence as well. Zhao-Fu, a Mokeu with an inviting, gentle face, but with the down stroke of a falling tree. The two started off as enemies but that rivalry that simmered quickly turned to companionship as no one else was obsessed with mastery quite like them. The jealousy became admiration and then the rest was history. The two were nearly inseparable, comparting meals together, bathing together, and training together obviously. Yet as they aged, the fire within Zhao-Fu began to grow pale. It seemed liked he was torn between martial arts and doing what was best for the village. Bizi-Gan was unable to see what the world politics had to offer that martial arts couldn’t. Being the strongest under heaven meant that their power could bring anyone to their knees. Something even the most eloquent Mokeu could not accomplish with just words. The more Zhao-Fu matured with age, the opposite held true for Bizi. Like an unripe fruit, Bizi was sour, sour at the thought that their traditions of honoring their ancestors and nature was stupid. The clan leaders approach to the clans future with peace and acceptance of others was simply going to get them killed. Bizi-Gan wouldn’t lay down and die, he would live on and become the strongest of the two kingdoms. One final fight between the two old friends had served as the schism that pushed, or rather forced, the two to travel on their own paths. There was a slightly reluctance for Bizi to leave as he wanted his friend to fight for him to stay more, but he knew being exiled was the best for both students. So he left and disappeared into the clouds and the mountains. In the beginning of his youth he traveled, fighting his way through villages and kingdoms to gain money and fame. He found his way being a hired hand and knew opulence for a while. You can only sharpen a weapon to a point and soon the fire in him was beginning to burn out as well. Power meant nothing if he could not do anything with it, specifically to help his tribe. Instead he decided to rescind his power and return to the Jade Plains tribe in hopes of amnesty with his former friend and tribesman. Except what he found was destruction and death in wake of his return. His knees trembled and for the first time in a while he felt weak and gaunt. The smell of rotting flesh and blood curdled in his nose and sucked the life from his bones. Bizi-Gan rampaged through the village looking for his friend, but to no avail. He had either survived or had been taken. Either way, Bizi-Gan would have his revenge. That’s when he saw his reflection in a pool of water, he was mortified by his own image. Hatred is all he saw, and he knew that his intentions of finding peace were fleeting ambitions. Disgusted by his narrowness, he summited the tallest mountain in their valley and locked himself away from humanity to begin his journey to salvation. When it was time, he would come down and reintroduce himself to the world. ____________________________________________________________________________ PERSONALITY Weathered. Bizi-Gan has seen a lot and done even more within the allotted amount of years provided to his species. Life has casually eroded at him like stone facing the brunt of constant onslaught of rapid waves. This has allowed him to become rounded, smooth at the edges, and overall more refined. It wasn’t always like this. In his younger days he was more of the wave than the stone, he was a constant force of nature with only one track to follow. Sure there were ebbs and flows and even natural borders that diverted his path, but like water he was able to change shape to get through and meet up again and continue on. Having spent a lot of time in isolation gave way to learning how to slow down and take the world in for what it was. What he discarded as a teen he regained in his old age. He was now attuned with the spirituality that held a grip on the politics of the Mokeu people. His rage had been reigned in and instead he acted with nature in mind. While he has done a complete paradigm shift, the isolation took a toll on his social skills. He is still very plain and dry, curt in his offerings, and seemingly always judging with a grimace on his face. However, he’s never of ill intent and is looking for the most direct point and advice he can give. ____________________________________________________________________________ MOTIVATION AND OUTLOOK Bizi-Gan has a few motivations and outlooks now that he’s entered the realm of living once more. Although almost impossible, he looks to revive the Jade Plains Tribe, how he will, no one knows? He’s also looking to take on a pupil. What he wasn’t able to teach himself or correct he can find in a student as if looking in a mirror. He’s looking to continue his cheery outlook by learning more about cultures and knowledge afforded to him on his journey. Lastly he hopes to find his lost friend and make amends for the damage he imparted upon his exile. ____________________________________________________________________________ MISC The jade capsule attached to his back is an excellent source of stamina training and weight training. Taking it off makes him light on his feet, much faster than he already is. Secondly, he stores powders on him that he pours into the capsule and then ignites. The smoke that emits from the capsule can have several varying properties. The most common, a smoke screen, that aids in his martial arts and staff combat.

O R I F L A M M E

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Interacting with: Self
Opportunity: Eskand-aligned Players – Siege Chamonix.

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Event: Ebbs & Flows Location: Outskirts of Chamonix

Ulfhild was slightly suffering from imposters syndrome, it seemed like she was right for this war when she nearly delivered the Queen of Parrench a just duel and then managed to strike down a horse back warrior later in the field. Yet, battle after battle from that point she would be thwarted and nearly brought to the precipice of death. Had she gotten too overconfident or were the gods simply mocking her? Whatever it was she would still mentally persevere knowing the war was still in its infancy and the chance to snatch glory and solidify her place in the Æresvaktr.

Four days had passed since Sweyn had saved her by means of divine intervention, that’s not to say the enemy faction did not have one of their own. The king was incredibly powerful, one blessed with the ability to manipulate time. Undoing the vicious dismemberment of the savage warrior that sent Olaf to the table with their peers. The ace up their sleeve revealed, something invaluable to the Black King, if the information would find its way to him in time. As for Ulfhild, she had spent her days licking her wounds and getting her armaments in order for the siege to come.

She readied the raiding parties she was now at the helm of and made her way to the hilltop strongpoint they had sent for themselves. Many of them rode on horseback while others took the field with shields, keeping their stapled shield wall approach if needed to turn on the defensive of a provoked army. Others laid in wait in any of the cover behind them, a bit away back. Ulfhild herself had a plan to slip in once the chaos and battle erupted. For now she would ready their forces to siege the city and avoid finding herself between two Parrench forces.

DRAGON AGE : Lost Convictions

Roderick wasn’t slow to notice the shift in the qun’s bow position. His eyes failed from her eyes for what was less than a second’s second. He was making progress and that was all that concerned him in terms of his own safety. He wasn’t daft enough to meet a Qunari in open combat after going on a speed date with the maker just before. An annoying smile transformed into a grin, blond curls that sank like fresh sap, fell over his face. He eyed her through the gaps in the curtains that hung over his face, before sweeping them up and laughing, pushing out his chest and looking at the sky. “A mockingbird? I prefer the song of a thrush, wouldn’t you? But if that makes me a passerine what does that make you my dear?” his porcelain white teeth and flair for the flamboyant made him seem more fox of cunning than bird of song.

His eyebrows perked up at the showmanship of her dexterity, she was clearly a skilled marksman, if she weren’t perhaps the arrow would have grazed the mage and sunk into him. “Nimble fingers, I’ll have to remember that” she seemed to be true in her words, which sent him scurrying towards her side with chainmail clinking with each upheaval. “That makes two of at least, I’m sure they would regale you if you were to silence me. The templars of now are just obsessed with politics and positions.”

Roderick followed her to the slowly petrifying body as she retrieved her bow. The squelching of flesh and blood wasn’t anything new to him, but still occupied the realm of unpleasant. “Coincidence or not, we had been hunting this apostate for many nights. He took down my entire party in the woods just outside of Ferelden. I was one of the few that survived, perhaps by will of the divine I do not know. I lay at the neck of a stream collecting water when I return to find my camp decimated and the sickly sweet scent of iron wafting through the air, mixed with smoke and flame” Roderick's gaze traveled past the mage despite his line of sight being planted on the mage. His demeanor became hollow and lost all perspicacity, reverting into what could be attributed to a hardened templar or a recount of Orlesian tragedy. “I tracked him down to Kirkwall and here I am. Shame I didn’t end it on my own terms.”

The jovial expression returned to his face, his body resurging with energy, “Well! He still met his justice and even brought me to you. Now I’m not too familiar with your language, but I think this will suffice” he cleared his throat, remembering a phrase taught to him by another Qun inside a bar, piss drunk. “Taarsidath-an halsaam, I think that means thank you” he said bowing before her. “So, what brought you here?” eager to know why their paths might have crossed.