Falling, slipping through consciousness, her body was weighed down by the weight of what felt like heavy metal chains as she sank into the depths of the uncomfortable cold and dampness. Ruby's mind was filled with images of her sinking to the bottom of the ocean as her mind started to stir awake. Then there was that chilling voice, and her eyes abruptly burst open with glaring glowing red eyes.
You have woken.
Ruby's slumped over head quickly shot up and turned towards the woman she only knew as 'The Warden'. Though if she had to bet on it, she seemed no less a woman than she was human. Just looking at her seemed to be wrong, an icy chill filling her veins as she continued to stare at the being before her. Even as her instincts screamed for her to look away, she still glowered with her own unsettling crimson eyes.
She made no attempt to escape the bindings, physical or not; the fabric gag on her was frustrating, but she had not expected anything different. The only thing that seemed to be of interest was the softness of the cloth she wore. Finally tearing her stubborn glare away from the woman, she looked down to see the dark black dress with yellow embroidery. Even more surprisingly, there at her side, she could see her little pathetic excuse of a knife.
... What was going on?
This wasn't right. This wasn't right at all!
She was supposed to be dead by now. She was supposed to be gone. Gone from this world with one simple slice of a sword, or hidden in that dark filthy cell.
Patience, the Warden says, her voice like breaking glass. All in due time. They are waking.
Ruby's eyes swept through the room, finally taking in the shadowy figures as they, too, became restless and lashed out with insults and demands. Letting out a heavy sigh, she fell back to waiting as she contemplated that maybe being at the bottom of the ocean would have been more peaceful than whatever was planned for next.
Silver blonde hair, a pale complexion with evidence of old fight scars, that of small blades and impacts. He really isn't all that interesting looking. He's tall and lanky, doesn't look like he weighs much more then 200 pounds soaking wet. His hands are rough from working, unsure of with what, and his knuckles are scarred likely from fights. His eyes are a blazing red with a yellow. Which seem to ignite with flares of flame boiling from his eyes when he's utilizing his magic. He's constantly followed by small licks of flame that bob and weave about him and seem to exhibit a small amount of intelligence even. His clothing is shades of fire reds, burnt browns, solar yellows and yellow-whites. An underlayer that is the blackest of coal like blacks. Leather guantlets, pauldrons and greaves in a burnt brown color end his normal combat outfit. He will wear these same colors but in soft supple leathers when not in a fighting situation.
Personality
Cocky, self sure and confident are three main words to describe the personality and attitude of Ricon. He knows what he's capable of, and those who have seen him know it too. And he takes pride in that, he's very proud. And very cock sure.
Long moments of being the cock of the walk in alot of situations has caused Ricon's personal filter to be a little off. And will often be the first one to throw a cuss, fist or a spell. And he sees nothing wrong with this at all.
Background
What can you do? You get born, you grow up, and you die. It's how it happens. Or sometimes you don't die and you get a second chance.
Ricon was born to a humble cobbler and a talented carpenter. His mother and father were good people. And he was born healthy and hale.
Until he was five. And the house they all lived in, him, his older brother and parents mysteriously caught fire one night.
WOOSH! FLAMES! EMBERS!
And all that remained of the house after was ashes and coals...and an oddly unaffected baby Ricon. He was picked out of the guttering blaze, bare as the day he was born, but without a mark on him. Sadly his nearest kin were an aunt who wanted nothing to do with him, and a grandparent who was already on deaths door. So he was turned over to the state. And into an Orphanage. Where he really didn't get along with people at all. So at ten, he ran away. And started to live on the streets.
This is where things started to get interesting. Out there on the mean streets of the capitol he fell in with a small gang of street urchins, and here he learned the fine arts of sneak thievery, pick pocketing, lock picking and various other skills in being a thief. And he was good at it too. He could work a lay like no one else, and became an outstanding member of the gang. And likely would have continued too. Just your odd little thief in the streets for the rest of his life. Until one of the older members of the gang, planned a pay roll heist. They wanted to filch the pay roll of a masonry guild. And Ricon was chosen to help pick the lock on the safe in the guild house. Nine people went in. And that's how it all went to shite. The casing of the joint was botched, and when they went in, rather then a quiet empty guildhouse, the guild was holding a late night meeting. Three of the group were pinched on entry. Another two when they were running in the halls. One was killed when a guild member hit him on the head with a hammer. And the last four were run down and arrested. Ricon was just seventeen.
Time time they gave him to the army.
Now remember those flames from when he was a toddler? It was his third day with the army, in bootcamp when a senior trainee decided to try and haze Ricon, he and five others decided to jump the little larcen after last bell. There was an explosion all of a sudden. A pillar of flames. The training sargeants came running. And found Ricon standing in a circle of roiling flames, one of his tormentors screaming in pain as white hot flames licked at his leg stumps. The ring leader? His charred skeleton still held onto Ricon's lapel. The others had run. It was an awakening. Ricon, had turned out to be a Pyromancer, and had just had an awakening that the College of the Arcane Arts Grandmages, would say hadn't been seen in generations.
Ricon would join the College of Arcane Arts just before his eighteenth birthday. He would stay there for six years.
He found magic, to be absolutely astounding. He dabbled at first, learning conjuration, summoning, alteration and other magical schools, while also studying his Pyromancy. But it was clear, he didn't really belong. Most of the students in the College were Social Elite. A generals son, a Lady Marquis with talent, or a Lords scion with a dream. And here is Ricon, a low born orphan, who was a former street thief, briefly a soldier and now one of the most powerful Pyromancers on record. The others hated him, and though Ricon loved magic, he hated them too. So Ricon put the screws to himself, he studied hard and gained a mastery in pyromancy as fast as he could. He was already considered a master in fire magic, by the time he looted his yearmates bedrooms of anything of value, and skipped school.
Now really none of this would have garnered a stay in the Maw. He would have been just branded a Rogue Mage and he would have had a bounty on his head. And that's that right?
After he left the College though, Ricon started to perform his old thievery tricks again. But this time, deaths occured. why shouldn't he back up his threats with real consequences? Didn't give up your jewelry? Then he burns your hands. Refuse to give up your coins? He'd slowly cripple you with flames. He earned the moniker of "The Infernomancer" Though, when he tried to extort a mining town. Thirty Five Thousand gold coins, or he'd immolate their town. They thought he lied. This is when he created his signature move. He procured a old steel broadsword, and set the blade aflame, then jammed the tip into the ground. Igniting a wave of white hot flame, a wall of scorn and rage. That roiled down and burned the town to the ground. he then walked in, casually and gathered up all the valuables he could find that still remained unmelted, and even gathered up some of the melted stuff, silver, and gold is still good even in a melted lump.
He did this several more times. And amassed a large fortune. That's when the King sent a task force after him. Six College Arch Mages, Twenty Royal Paladins, twenty eight knights and fifty elite soldiers. Against only the most powerful pyromancer in several generations. The fight would be recorded as "The Immolation of Yargo Pass". It lasted for seven hours. And by the end one arch mage was killed, two paladins, one knight and forty soldiers. Burned at the hands of The Infernomancer. But he would be captured, tried and convicted. No orphanage this time. No army, no college. The King sentenced him to the Maw.
Where his cell would be equipped with ice and water spells set to douse him and interrupt his fire magic. He'd often be heard to say while in solitary after burning a Maw guard, "I'm only in here because She, won't let me go. You have no power over me! Only that one does!" coupled with laughter, confident laughter, of a man who knows it's only a matter of time.
Talents
Skills
Incredible Pyromancy ability - The man is strong enough to summon flames so hot that he could melt the legendary Adamant steel of the dwarves with ease. He can pull flames out of the air like a street magician can pull rabbits out of a hat.
A myriad of minor magical ability. Such as healing, alteration, conjuration and a smattering of summoning magic.
Powers
The Inferno - A spell he created, that he channels through his burnt and warped broadsword. Creating a wall of flames white hot in nature.
Plume of Fire - One of his simplest and most effective spells, a simple blast of fire and heat.
Magic "Missile" - A staple of mages everywhere. But in Ricon's case it's fire themed. And he tends to make it so it tracks his targets.
Most of Ricon's Magic in general will tend towards fire enhanced. Even a simple Magical Hand will be wreathed in fire.
Flame Familiar - Those small little fire spirits that will flit and fly about, little bubbly and cute giggles can be heard from them, and they can swell and flare up, or can be used to spark any number of his fire spells.
Training
Thieves Training - Picking Pockets, Sneak Thievery, Lock Picking and general larceny. Often enough he can recognize another thief with ease. He learned how to fight dirty as a thief. Handful of sand, low blows that kind of thing.
Infantry training - It lasted only a few days, but Ricon picked up the ability to reliably use a sword and a dagger in his time with the army. He learned how to fight efficiently with the army. Conservation of energy and all that.
College Education - He picked up how to read and write at the College of the arcane. He can do his numbers too. So now he knows how much he has stolen. And it's value.
Flaws
Ice and Water - Anathema to his fire magic, a good well placed water or ice spell can cancel out all but his most powerful spells.
Thalassophobia - The fear of what lurks under deep and unknown waters. Pairs well with the Ice and Water flaw. Fire and deep water don't mix. One of the Arch Mages used the illusion of a deep dark underwater scene to slow Ricon at Yargo Pass.
Equipment
Linen and leather out fit, his casual outfit, a backpack where he had stored all his belongings during his rogue days. A grimoire, the Archmages tried to take it, as Ricon had written all his Pyromancy knowledge in it, but the King ordered it taken by the Warden instead. And lastly, his Sword, which he would name Embershard, because of it's warped and blackened state after the many focusing of Inferno through it.
Miscellaneous
Ricon is endlessly denied anything he can set alight, for fear that he will use it to conjure one of his spells.
No less then six guards as assigned to him when he's let out of his cell. And two must always be in his blindspot to make it harder for him to get them all in a Blaze. And one must have a magical bottle of ice or water to stop him from starting too many flames.
Ricon if allowed too will always have atleast three of his small flame familiars flitting about him. But if more then three appear he's usually doused immediately to put them out.
I instantly want to have Ruby feed the fire familiars flammable things when no one else is looking lol
ey lads. a certain other person i talk to is feeling awkward to say but they request I demand a discord on their behalf. it would be pretty sweet, we can share memes coordinate our shenanigans and also do some shipping as tends to happen. so what does everyone think?
Also I might reveal a secret about myself that no one knows except for everybody I told it too. That may or may not be a bribe. there will be cookies. That was a bribe.
I was like I wonder if the group wants to do a discord thing, and then said I was too socially awkward at the moment to mention it.... and I get this instead XXXD Teaches me to be socially awkward lol
With pale white skin and long white, straggly hair, she could be easily mistaken for a fresh corpse if it wasn't for the blood-red eyes that bore into anyone who met her. Her eyes are usually the first thing people notice about her, especially when she tends to hide in the shadows and the glow of the red is the only thing one can see.
Otherwise, her physique is not remarkable. She is slightly smaller than average, has a thin build, and has no real muscle tone.
Personality
Ruby appears to be very quiet and hidden, though most of this is probably due to her muteness. She might not take the stage often, preferring to manipulate and organise the situation from the background and let others truly shine. She would rather wait until death is certain and then step out to the light to show her true colours.
Just because she is mute does not mean she doesn't have opinions, though. Tiring easily of those people who can't interpret her gestures and true intentions. She tends to like very few people because of this, and those that she does like, she tends to bond intensely with and act like their protector from the dark. It's exactly why you might occasionally find her fiddling with a small and dead dried violet in her hands.
Background
Many wonder how a banshee comes along, and one can be created or born in many ways. However, in Ruby's case, it was that her mother had tried so hard to hide her pregnancy from the madam at the brothel that she ended up causing not only her death but also her child's. Well... almost.
A small, pale, and undead child, Ruby lived and worked around the brothel, doing small tasks in the shadows until she was of age. Unlike most trainees, she wasn't brought in front of the customers, as all her appearance did was tend to scare them. Instead, she learned the skills of a physician and a musician. Tending to the cares of the women in the household and playing music from the shadows, Ruby did well for herself, all things considered.
The only real thing that seemed to catch her up was, well, the fact that she was a banshee. She couldn't help the fact that she knew when someone was going to die; she couldn't help the scream that would come screeching from her mouth at the sight of them. Leaving her hiding from the people who were terrified of her, no words being uttered from her, as she lived in the shadows.
This was her life until around her 20s when things were becoming increasingly obvious to the young woman. Many of the injuries that she treated on her fellow sisters were not naturally caused but were caused by bad habits by customers. Customers that all the escorts agreed they would be better off without but could not turn away.
Ruby took matters into her own hands, trailing the often drunk and disorderly men down the dark alleyways, pushing them gently in the right direction of their fate. Towards a runaway horse, a slick staircase, or, in the most desperate situations, just in the way of her knife. Finally, as fate seemed to accept her terms, she would take a deep, enthralling breath as their death was sealed.
There she sang to them, in a language no one had ever been able to place, so lullingly soft and beautiful, entrancing them as she pulled away their life force. She had started to defend her sisters, but the more she participated, the more addicting it got.
She had seen justice done to dozens of patrons before the law even caught wind of her. Another handful died at her hands before they finally found her, hidden in the shadows of the whore house. Clamping on the metal binds, she surrendered silently as she looked up at them with glowing red eyes that bored into them and saw into their lifelines.
She just had to wait... everyone died, eventually.
Talents
Phasing through walls made of wood or stone
Moves eerily quiet
Seems to become one with the shadows while hiding
Precognition - knowing when people are going to die
Sonic screams - high amplitude
Death song - pulls their life force into her
Mimicry - Can repeat words she has heard others say back to them in their voice
Supernatural detection
Ages very slowly
Basic physician skills
Flaws
Selectively mute - except for death song, which is in a language she doesn't even know
Death song only works when she can tell they are about to die
Not a strong physical fighter
Can't phase through metal or glass
Doesn't like being touched
Equipment
One dried flower, a violet
One knife looks like a basic but sharp kitchen knife
Miscellaneous
Even though Ruby does not talk, she still makes sounds like humming or groans.
With pale white skin and long white, straggly hair, she could be easily mistaken for a fresh corpse if it wasn't for the blood-red eyes that bore into anyone who met her. Her eyes are usually the first thing people notice about her, especially when she tends to hide in the shadows and the glow of the red is the only thing one can see.
Otherwise, her physique is not remarkable. She is slightly smaller than average, has a thin build, and has no real muscle tone.
Personality
Ruby appears to be very quiet and hidden, though most of this is probably due to her muteness. She might not take the stage often, preferring to manipulate and organise the situation from the background and let others truly shine. She would rather wait until death is certain and then step out to the light to show her true colours.
Just because she is mute does not mean she doesn't have opinions, though. Tiring easily of those people who can't interpret her gestures and true intentions. She tends to like very few people because of this, and those that she does like, she tends to bond intensely with and act like their protector from the dark. It's exactly why you might occasionally find her fiddling with a small and dead dried violet in her hands.
Background
Many wonder how a banshee comes along, and one can be created or born in many ways. However, in Ruby's case, it was that her mother had tried so hard to hide her pregnancy from the madam at the brothel that she ended up causing not only her death but also her child's. Well... almost.
A small, pale, and undead child, Ruby lived and worked around the brothel, doing small tasks in the shadows until she was of age. Unlike most trainees, she wasn't brought in front of the customers, as all her appearance did was tend to scare them. Instead, she learned the skills of a physician and a musician. Tending to the cares of the women in the household and playing music from the shadows, Ruby did well for herself, all things considered.
The only real thing that seemed to catch her up was, well, the fact that she was a banshee. She couldn't help the fact that she knew when someone was going to die; she couldn't help the scream that would come screeching from her mouth at the sight of them. Leaving her hiding from the people who were terrified of her, no words being uttered from her, as she lived in the shadows.
This was her life until around her 20s when things were becoming increasingly obvious to the young woman. Many of the injuries that she treated on her fellow sisters were not naturally caused but were caused by bad habits by customers. Customers that all the escorts agreed they would be better off without but could not turn away.
Ruby took matters into her own hands, trailing the often drunk and disorderly men down the dark alleyways, pushing them gently in the right direction of their fate. Towards a runaway horse, a slick staircase, or, in the most desperate situations, just in the way of her knife. Finally, as fate seemed to accept her terms, she would take a deep, enthralling breath as their death was sealed.
There she sang to them, in a language no one had ever been able to place, so lullingly soft and beautiful, entrancing them as she pulled away their life force. She had started to defend her sisters, but the more she participated, the more addicting it got.
She had seen justice done to dozens of patrons before the law even caught wind of her. Another handful died at her hands before they finally found her, hidden in the shadows of the whore house. Clamping on the metal binds, she surrendered silently as she looked up at them with glowing red eyes that bored into them and saw into their lifelines.
She just had to wait... everyone died, eventually.
Talents
Phasing through walls made of wood or stone
Moves eerily quiet
Seems to become one with the shadows while hiding
Precognition (knowing when people are going to die)
Sonic screams (high amplitude)
Death song (pulls their life force into her)
Supernatural detection
Ages very slowly
Basic physician skills
Flaws
Selectively mute (except for death song, which is in a language she doesn't even know)
Death song only works when she can tell they are about to die
Not a strong physical fighter
Can't phase through metal or glass
Doesn't like being touched
Equipment
One dried flower, a violet
One knife looks like a basic but sharp kitchen knife
Miscellaneous
Even though Ruby does not talk, she still makes sounds like humming or groans.