Dezuel

Final Fantasy: Lightseekers

Zeidgram

Neve's cheeks had gotten a hue which the red mage found most suitable, and while that colour was fine to behold...

The table of the kirin had begun to reveal it's many other colours. Galahad and Izayoi had suggested that the group would move towards Osprey, while it wasn't necessarily the worst choice on the list of things, it wasn't the place which he had held in first place himself. The ruins of Lunaris had much more alure. But he knew he would have to chose his battles in order to win the war, thus Osprey would have to end up being the destination.

'Ranbu no Izayoi. I know this name... the limbtaker. She's the one who sent all those men and women to the healers, and even more to the graveyard. Seems the rumors of her death were false after all, but I am not one to believe fully into mere rumors, gossip and hearsay. Fairytales are a completely different matter though. This woman is akin to a beast, yet even a beast has right in their basic instincts. Her statements of the other groups waiting to lunge at oneanother rings true, for such is greed. I know it all too well. Her desire to go to Osprey is a personal matter no doubt, just how many lives have she ruined and what has she to show for it? To ultimately find herself at the doorstep of her old enemy? The irony would be sweet, would it not be so tragic. Even a broken clock shows the right time at some point during the day. Time will however tell if the furious feline will bend or break... a little poking might yield profitable results.' The bluehaired man pondered as he observed those by his table, his attention setting on Galahad momentarily.

'As expected from that man, he is going to follow in the wake of the closest thing resembling a firebreathing dragon. That feline woman. But he does bring up a fair point, which is likely one half of a broader truth. That the blight is manmade, or as I would label it. Warped. Changed. Manipulated. The silence of the light as these people label it is no doubt connected to the blight. Someone has found a connection between the worlds of mortals and gods, a gateway into the very ether itself no doubt. And in their arrogance and greed, tried to become like gods by using an artificial device to attempt to control it. Which has led to the world becoming blighted. A lesson for the mortal realms, an expensive lesson, but a lesson nontheless.' The man's judgemental gaze continued on it's way, looking over Ibraham, which had recently joined them by the table.

'A fortune seeker like many others, but this man is dangerous. Those who speak alot or not at all, those are the kinds one ought to be wary of. This man seems much like the gil-hearted mercenaries, the type who will change his footing depending on where the wind blows. His words are no doubt as reliable as the black mage were in fetching butter, or sending the limbtaker as a diplomat to Valheim itself. Still there may be some uses for the man, for someone who knows where to twist... and turn.' Zeidgram had offered a friendly smile towards Ibraham, a greeting gift and promise of times to come, then the red mage offered a polite nod to Arton, allowing his piercing gaze to attempt to borrow into the man's own eyes.

'This man shows much promise, out of the ones present, he and the blonde woman bears the most promise. They appear to be genuine, if they are not then they've play the game better than I. If such is to be my loss, then there's no more fitting an end. It takes a master, to stop a master.' It was with calm expression on his face that his gaze wandered over to inspect Leifur and Aelphis, the latter which had so ineptly dropped the butter and proclaimed himself a black mage. There was something about the black mage that made him feel instant contempt for him, such a seemingly carefree and panicky figure, so reckless in his proclaimation of being a black mage. It had made the red mage's skin crawl, and would his own master not have been struck down, and had been present he would no doubt have died from embarassment alone.

But all things considered, Zeidgram still knew that whilst the sharp-eared faye did indeed seem completely useless... looks could be deceiving, and if he would take the boy lightly it could prove fatal. The dark powers were potent and to not be taken lightly, even in the hands of this... child? He should know as he wielded that power himself, even if such were not common knowledge. Black mages were feared for a reason, his master had hid his powers for a reason and so had Zeidgram followed in the same steps. People were quick to judge those who wielded those powers, even more so than whose who used white magic. People like his father and the self-rightious fools would never have understood such a pathway, even if the red mage only chose to tread upon it half-ways.

While he had not pondered on it much, he could ultimately only pass his complete respects to someone who walked at the edge, someone who strode into the twilight zone. His father and his mentor, white and black, light and dark, both had gone far enough that it had blinded them. Like nature, magic... the ether was meant to be kept in balance.

That said, even the red mage couldn't stop a chuckle when he heard the black mage dropping the butter. It felt like such a primal thing to do, laugh at someone else's unfortune, but it did pack quite the punch. The whole idea of humor made him think of Galahad, did that man even have an ounce of it in him? He didn't seem the sort. Neither did the sellsword viera, Leifur. A simple man, if one were to trust his introduction. A man who went where he was told to go. If there was something the red mage could not stand it were those kind of people, not because he didn't see them as being useful or capable, but it made him think of the mindless guards that patrolled the various settlements. People who didn't think for themselves and instead let others do it for them. What made the matter worse to him were that often those people which did end up making the choices for them were often even more the fools. Compared to the guards however, this viera sellsword seemed capable, his words were not elegant or refined, but they were more beliable than most.

Then there were the flamehaired young sollan lady which had been for the most unremarkable in her words, but remarkable in the manner that she stood out amidst the table for that very reason. She was asking others for what they thought, a good idea if one wishes to know the thoughts of others. Zeidgram knew he had to keep a close eye on her, much like the overly talkative one named Ibraham.

It had also been with a slight smirk that Zeidgram took being refered to by Arbora.

'Such an inquisitive way to arrange your words, too bad that you are wrong. The girl is in question, a young woman, besides eavesdropping is such a unladylike thing to do. So take that hippety-hoppety and turn it into quippity-stoppity. Speaking of foundation of trust, I shall remember to summon that one for later. I wonder how you'd fare in a true joust of words, surely a different flavor than farming for carrots amidst the tribes.' The man mused in his head, before he stood up to introduce himself.

"The name is Zeidgram, I am a mere caretaker and a mender of the great cathedral of Lunaris. Unlike so many other capable champions here, I find myself insufficient in your esteemed presence. Thank you for allowing someone as boorish as myself to join such a prestigious quest." He had offered a bow to those present, his hair falling over his eyes as he did, obscuring his ambitious gaze, and the glimmer in it. He could feel his very core laughing at his own display. But it didn't matter, it all served a purpose. Whereof they label him a fool or some noble-want-to-be, they would gradually show to him their true selves whilst his true self would remain shrouded, amidst the blinding light and the engulfing dark. For if they would find out his intentions, no doubt they would attempt to stop him. It couldn't be helped, because people could only understand that which they have experienced, wasn't that so? Perhaps a few of them would see through his guise, if so they would be rewarded well.

As inquisite as Arbora and Galahad had been, neither one had been able to see that what he had shown them was a display, an act. At least that was what he could tell. To most present, they would simply see a world of raining gil or a big table with food. What the red mage saw was greed, gluttony, poison and underlying ambitions. The king himself is after the source of the blight. The power to subdue the world. What caused the Edren and Osprey war to begin with? Were it just for abit of land? Some insults or mistakes? Or was it because of something that was found. Something precious, something priceless. Something which could upset the balance of the world. Whatever would lie ahead, there was only one person he knew he could trust fully with this quest. Himself.

Some time later...

The kirin group had been given rooms and split up into smaller groups, when the red mage finally saw who he would be spending the night with he was met with disappointment. Out of all the people available, these two were about the two worst options present. The two quiet types, he couldn't learn a thing from them without prying, and if one were to pry then one would reveal oneself to such people.

Zeidgram found himself looking out the window of the room he had been assigned to, the view was different from Lunaris. It felt far too artificial, but knowing fully well where he were and how people had flocked to Leonhart's call, he had to take in the view abit. How many of those that had answered the call had been genuine and who amongst them were agents serving foreign powers? The man shook his head softly as he walked over to inspect his gear which had been delivered to the room, making sure everything was there, and sniffing his waterskin and supplies for traces of poison. He could have sworn he packed a red hat with a feather? Oh bother. He allowed himself to take abit of jerky into his mouth after some consideration and some water, after all he had not eaten anything at the feast below, neither drank anything. He did however prior to his arrival, it was all a precaution.

'It doesn't matter. Edren, Drana Asnaeu, Osprey, Skael and Valheim. Neither shall seize the power behind the blight. The balance of the world lies in the hands of the grey, guised under the blood-red moon. Like the double-edged sword, my Kiltia. The path trodden is narrow, cold and sharp, yet one must thrust forwards if one desires to pierce through the deceptions and illuminate the truth... isn't that right, Danube? The current of the river may be strong, but blood is thicker, and isn't it far more interesting to see one wade against the current than simply allow oneself to be swept away by it?' He allowed himself a few silent moments to himself before hurling glances to Leifur and Noelle, he however chose to remain silent. That's when there were sounds of a commotion outside of the room.

'This better not be the black mage again. No. It sounds louder...' He furrowed his eyebrows while grabbing hold of his sheathed sword.

"Missy and gentlebunny, we have company." He said aloud as the door was opened and some figures came into the room. They were most certainly hostile. Like he had previously made clear to himself, it didn't matter who or what these things were. No matter who had sent them, the quest would remain the same. With that in mind he drew his sword and pointed it towards the uninvited guests. What or who were they? It didn't matter. They would dissappear forever.

The red mage began to quickly cast his spells in quick succession, the first [Stun Cloud] spell was hurled at the closest enemy, temporary paralyzing him. The following spell that was hurled shortly after targetted the man next to the first target. [Spirit Surge] A beam of light shot straight into the other enemy's chest. This had been the most potent white magic spell he knew, it was used to end fights in a swift and merciful manner. Much unlike the black magic which his mentor taught him, but in the current company, for the time being these powers would have to be concealed. At least to these two whose nature he had yet to discern.

@Ambra@Vertigo@Lucky@Cu Chulainn@vietmyke@Psyker Landshark@Ithradine@Ogobrogo

Final Fantasy: Lightseekers

Zeidgram

There had been a variety of reactions to his words, some were eager to simply get a move on already. While the matter was an urgent one, and he felt that the sooner they would be on their way the better. The darkhaired sollan on the opposing side of the table looked like he had seen battle and overall seemed to be a warrior in his own right. While he didn't exactly strike Zeidgram as someone remarkable, the red mage knew that looks could be deceiving and that his final judgements on the man would be done later. Lord Caradoc, the hunter of the dragons had stood up and offered his views on things. While his response had been a calm one, it was also filled with some useful information about what kind of man he were.

'A man hunting dragons, a path very different from one where you are hunting for words... or other things. A man who wouldn't coddle his peers, yet I suspect he has been the subject of pampering since his birth. A man who goes out to slay dragons to prove he's a man. I need not to climb a mountain to prove something to myself. For with the clarity of mine path being trodden, I already am above such.' He mentally mused to himself as he observed the tall and graceful dragonhunter straight across the table.

It was then that a mystrel spoke up, a stark contrast to the soft tone used by Galahad. Her mouth were spitting fire, which took the shape of words and went on to become sentences. Eagerness, anger and with such a defiant and unyielding tone. It was something which Zeidgram didn't enjoy being at the other end of, hotheaded people were harder to read than those of a calmer mindset.

'This one has a temper... a lack of self-discipline and there's a fire there. I wonder just what makes her... burn? I suppose I may find out in dear time, those whom are patient will be rewarded in the end. Yet those which do not seize a moment when it presents itself are truly fools. I do not wish to count myself amongst them. Despite it all, the old crone seems to speak directly from her core, that is more than can be said for most people. An admirable trait in itself, but a fatal weakness that others may exploit. Perhaps abit of... resistance training could do wonders?' The mage pondered as Izayoi finished addressing the room, then the red mage knew that if he didn't seize the moment, it would slip away. He couldn't allow that to happen with all the things stacked in his favor.

But alas the king, Leonhart had apparently been waiting for such a moment himself and seized the moment first. It was with some inner irritation that he had been prevented from hurling out some words towards the mystrel on the other side of the table.

'Oh what a pity. Oh well, I suppose it cannot be helped. But that mystrel is no lady at all. Claiming that these tables are filled with fools and brigands? Then would she not be the biggest fool of all? Because she would be sitting by the very same table as those she'd label to be that very thing... outmost laughable.' The sollan allowed himself a soft upturn at the corner of his mouth, his ear taking in what the king was saying, it wasn't necessarily a bad speech by any means, but to the red mage it offered nothing new than what he already knew. That the blight had to be stopped, and whatever thing was pulling the strings behind the scenes. The red mage had already his theories of what the reason could be, yet such a pathway was often forked, where the dark and the light could both render one blind.

'Ten million gil? Hah... no doubt such a sum would sway many a heart to such a cause, to the point their minds would lead them down a path of corruption. They say wealth is a sort of power, used by those whom have it against those which do not. They would likely even try to buy themselves out of death itself if they could. People's hearts and minds are too easily swayed. My heart cannot be bought by such a thing.' He mused to himself waiting for the king to finish his speech and the onlookers to have a moment of whispering and gossip. He knew all too well just how fond the rich were fond of doing that, and no doubt those which were not would be overjoyed by promise of wealth. But life cannot be bought. What use were coin to the dead? He chuckled to himself, before taking hold of his goblet and standing up again to support Leonhart's inspirational speech, offering a nod to the king first and then to others present, til his gaze finally settled on the empty goblet he had lifted up.

'If the goblet is half-empty, or half-full. That is what most ponder. But what if it is empty? Ever pondered on that have you? The power behind the blight, I shall grasp it with my own hands.' Zeidgram allowed his eyes to wander to Neva.

"Red suits your cheeks well, pretty missy." He said in a quiet and soft manner towards Neva, his lips forming a soft smile, his eyes trying to lock into hers. He seemed to blow some air from his lips out into the room, as if he was sighing or from relief.

@Ambra

Final Fantasy: Lightseekers

Zeidgram

It was with a calm and assertive manner in which Zeidgram observed the vast room in which they were all gathered into, like sheep into a pen. The nobles and their overflowing display of wealth in decoration, food variety, expensive fabrics and clothing. It was enough to make him feel disgusted, it was because of pompous people too lazy to see beyond their own golden goblets that the world had gotten to the place it were in. Not just being taken by surprise by the blight, but by their wars that seemed to serve no purpose other than to waste lives for no other reason than possibly greed. Greed was such a dangerous thing, it was a thing which he had experienced himself, but never taken to that degree. While he had been eager like any young person in his younger years, he had grown much since then and were no longer tempted by things which could potentially destroy his body and mind alike.

But all those thoughts were to be reserved for later, as now there were more pressing things to concern oneself with. Having looked over the various people that had answered the king's call, he became pleased as his eyes wandered over them. He knew some of these people, he was certain of it. But it didn't matter, in time he would certainly get to know them all, much like they would come to learn just who he were. Right next to him sat a young woman, which seemed to have some trouble reaching what appeared to be drink that the more thickheaded brutes at the inn's would find themselves indulging in. Honey was one of it's ingridients. He was certain of it. Nontheless he still reached out with his arm and hand to take hold of the flagon, before bringing it in to hand it to Neva. It was then with a soft smile on his lips and a tilt of his head, that he looked her face over, looking at her reaction before he allowed his soft tone of voice speak out, it was low, like a whisper to her alone.

"Such a fair young rose does not need this honeyed drink to be sweet, for you already are. Take it from a man who can tell a diamond from the coal, a rose from the weeds and beauty from bleak." His lips formed each and every word in an elegant manner, his eyes looked over Neva's facial expression as if there were words written all over her face, which he could decipher with just a glance or two. He offered a slight upturn again, at the corner of his lips before he rose up from his seat, taking hold of his empty glass, clinking a fork upon it to get the attention of the people gathered.

"Your majesty, lords and ladies. They say the blight has vanquished the light, today we can clearly see that isn't the case. For here are capable champions from all over the realms, civil and martial both. Ready to do what is needed for the good for all the realms. At the very forefront of this grand task, before this blight upon our world, is you... your majesty and your loyal subjects. Which is no doubt more than enough reason to spark the flames of admiration in people across the world near and far, and for those who may still have their doubts of just what is at stake.

They need not look further than upon all the fair and brave young women which has answered such a grand call, pillars of shining starlight, in these darkest of hours. If men such as myself were not to be moved by seeing these wonders, and by your majesty's divine call, how could we ever be able to face the world as men? What say you men? We are not going to let these beautiful, yet capable young women do all the hard work all by themselves are we? What say you, Lord Caradoc?" Zeidgram bowed gracefully with his head and upper body, before elegantly reaching out his free hand towards Galahad, his palm facing the ceiling of the large room. As if he was just handing over the attention of the entire room over towards Galahad.

'You who handle dragons, let see how you handle these...' The red mage thought to himself as he softly offered a polite nod towards Galahad and then towards the King and his entourage, before finally sitting back down. The moment had presented itself, and either one would seize it, or it would slip away forever. It wasn't about showing off to the pompous nobles, or the king. It was to guage how the entire room would judge him, and in turn what he could learn from them. Were the Lord Caradoc bold enough to speak up before the king, would he chastise the red mage. Many were the scenarios, but either way one would have to be prepared for either one.

@Ambra

Final Fantasy: Lightseekers

Zeidgram

"I'll rather break the world, than let the world break me. People will always do what is in their nature to do, find out their true nature and you can foresee the future and the daggers which seeks to plant themselves in your back."

GENERAL INFORMATION

Name: Zeidgram Wündelleá (pron:Wynn-delle-eA)

Age: 36

Gender: Male

Race: Sollan

Origin: Lunaris (Edren)

COMBAT INFORMATION

Class: Red Mage

Weapon: Kiltia (Double-edged epée)

Inventory:

Waterskin
Rations
Small metal bowl
Small mirror
Silk rope
Grappling hook
Locket containing portrait of his parents and himself as a child.
Coinpouch (Enough coin for lodging and food for one month)


Materia: Summoning, Teleportation

Limit Breaks: Redlight Restriction: Zeidgram shoots out homing beams of red light towards his target(s), these rays themselves deal no pain or physical harm. But it draws the mana and the very lifeforces out of those hit by it, and pulls it back towards Zeidgram as if he would become it's vessel. Before unleashing all the energy out from himself in the shape of homing orbs of red light.

In the case of there being only a single enemy, his limitbreak is very very weak compared to others. Whereof if he faces several or a larger amount of enemies it significantly increases in power to become truly destructive as he would have then gathered more energy to unleash. Great for fighting large amounts of foes, but not very effective against a lone target.

PERSONAL INFORMATION

Appearance Details: Wears a red longcoat with a set of black and gold shoulderpads, he wears a white long scarf around his neck, his pants are also white, his undershirt is black, he sports a pair of black and gold gauntlets. The back of his long hair is tied up in a broad ponytail which hangs down along his back, ending just above his rear end.

Personality: A cautious, calculating and steadfast individual. There are many ways to describe the red mage, to some he is regarded as dangerous, infuriating and cowardly. In other cases he may be regarded highly for his insightful words, his ability to discern the nature of people and his way with words. Zeidgram is someone who gets along well with people who are submissive, calm and those who view life in a darker way, while on the other hand he doesn't get along well with hotheaded, impulsive and in-your-face personalities.

As far as he is concerned, those who have no order in their mind and heart are inferior to those which do. He respects those who show patience, willingness to listen and share their innermost feelings and thoughts. People who refuse to heed his words, or display recklessness or display signs of secrecy are regarded in a much more negative light. While he respects people's privacy and will not press overly much to have people tell him what he desires to know, he is still highly intrigued in learning about people.

Perhaps it is due to his desire to find like-minded individuals. While he almost never admit to his wrongdoings he does acknowledge them when they occur, he is for example not as hungry for knowledge as he were in his younger years, now he is more cautious and plays in his own mind various possibilities and scenarios, in an attempt to foresee what lies beyond the present.

Biography: Zeidgram is a native to the settlement known as Lunaris, born and raised in the place by his parents. His father was a white mage which was highly respected and influencial in Lunaris due to his ability to cure ailments and bring relief to many who could find no curatives in the mundane ways. He was also in charge of a cathedral dedicated to Danube, and that's where his father first met with Zeidgram's mother, a scholar who shared his faith and was investigating the old ruins near Lunaris. As the years passed, the white mage and the scholar brought a child into the world, and it was common belief amidst the close circle of the duo that this boy were surely meant to bring about great things for Lunaris and Edren as a whole.

The boy's parents saw to giving their child a good upbringing, his father passing along his own trade to his son, teaching him how to heal and remove ailments, among other defensive magics. But due to his son's early craving for knowledge, saw to pass along offensive white magic aswell. Albeit with some reluctance, the father realized that it would surely be good if his son could defend himself if the need would arise. Nontheless the white mage did what was within his power to make certain that his son could someday take over his work at the cathedral. While the boy's mother had other plans entirely, for she saw her son's craving for knowledge in a similar light to her own craving to learn about old trinkets and places. Thus the boy also came to practice scholarly ways of thinking, debating, philosophies and ways to understand the past of not only Edren, but even a few things beyond it's borders. Both parents had their own desire for the boy's future, yet were it their place to chose it for him? When he became 16 years of age, the boy found himself overlooking the old ruins near Lunaris, and while he was gazing over it, someone else was gazing over at him. A man. A man who were around his father's age, yet his stature and overall aura was reeking of power.

This man, Dranek was a local nobleman, a lord of a large amount of land in Lunaris. While Zeidgram were not impressed by fancy titles nor about material wealth, the boy found a mentor in the older man. Lord Dranek Volkazas, was no ordinary nobleman. He was in fact a black mage, not just any black mage but one who had once in a time been a companion to his mother, a lover of the past. Much like his mother, Dranek was intrigued by the old ruins near Lunaris, believing some great power was hidden within it, just waiting for the right kind of person to find. To Zeidgram, the ruins had always been in the back of his mind, the source of much intrigue, yet he had never gone there, on the request of both his parents.

It wasn't as he was dreading the place like many others, but neither was he foolish enough to hurl himself into a dark pit. He was young. Not a fool. Perhaps it was traces of his mother that the black mage saw in him, or the resemblence of the man which had beaten him in the game of love. Lord Volkazas took the young man as a student, teaching him about things which his father would not, could not teach him. The dark arts. He had only heard his father mention it, and how it were something to stay clear of. Yet much like a moth to the flame, he was drawn to learn more about it. Knowing just one half of the puzzle was simply not going to do it, he had to delve into the more tabbooed dark arts. Rid himself of any doubts.

He was the wielder of the power, it would not ever rule over him. It was his knowledge and his choice in life to take, to tread upon the greyed out path between the light and the dark. Perhaps by doing so he would understand the world better... As the years passed and the young man became an adult, he was now the second in command of the cathedral under his father, but in secret he was also the closest retainer to Lord Volkazas. During ten years time he was studying the very thing his father had warned him about, and he had gotten good at calling forth the dark arts much to a similar manner as his white magic. But his dual-treaded path would soon find itself and obstacle.

His mother who were studying the ruins finally took the leap and joined an expedition to explore it's depths, without having notified Zeidgram nor his father of doing so. When the matter finally dawned on them, his father commanded the now 26 year old to stay in the cathedral and forbade him from following him. It lasted for a few moments, then the man left for his mentor Lord Volkazas and notified him of what had just happened. The teacher and the student quickly left towards the ruins, getting to it's border just in time to collide with the white mage.

Then began a short hurling of words between the two men, his mentor who blamed his father for allowing his wife to enter the place, and the father blamed the black mage for having had a hand in it. Was it fate that caused the both men to instantly begin to unleash their respective magics upon each other. The explosions caused the settlement to notice and they dispatched many men and women to investigate. What they witnessed was a clash of the light and dark, until their duel engulfed both of them in fire. When the dust finally settled, amidst the craters and the scorched earth he found his father's lifeless body, his hand clenching his staff. Next to him a locket containing a picture of himself, his wife and child. Not too far away stood the black mage, his mentor, mortally wounded but still standing.

The people gazed upon the black mage with fear, for what they had seen had been how one of the local lords had now struck down a man they respected, who had helped many of them. It were with determined steps that Zeidgram had strode forth towards his teacher, the tip of the blade found itself sliding into the chest of the mage. His larger body began to slump forwards, over the younger man. It were with sorrowful words that the younger man lamented what he had to do, but before the black mage's life went out of him. Zeidgram parted a few words close to his mentor's ear which only he could hear, they were words of gratefulness and with the promise that someday his efforts would not be in vain. That someday. The secret of those ruins would be uncovered, and that it would be thanks to his teachings. And that the student would become a master himself.

To the people of Lunaris, they now had a champion in the new head of the cathedral of Danube, he who struck down the black mage and avenged the respected white mage. It did not come to him as a surprise that a new generation sought to learn the path of the white mage so that they someday could defend Lunaris from a similar threat. Their enthusiasm was admirable, as were their eagerness to learn. But their view of what had happened had been wrong, light was as blinding as the darkest of voids. As far as Zeidgram was concerned, only someone who walked upon the edge of the coin could properly judge both sides of it. Thus it came to be, that the student became a teacher to the young and old alike, to the degree that a new faction rose in Lunaris known as the Order of the Red Moon. It was their duty to track down black mages anywhere they could be found and bring them in to the cathedral to be interrogated and incarcerated by Zeidgram. Many of these mages were never heard from again, it was rumored that they were deported to faraway lands or possibly sealed away in some prison underneath the old cathedral.

Whereof the truth of the matter were that these suspected black mages were in fact recruited by Zeidgram himself and turned into an underground movement dedicated to gather magical devices, old tomes and trinkets. They became known as Vigilants of Vol, and in secrecy they begun to pull strings and practices in the dark. Amidst the workings of the light and dark, each unaware of the other, it was only Zeidgram who had the view of the full picture.

It were also around this time that the man found himself a confidant, a local master of the sword, Trieyne Throne. While the two men were certainly of different origins, and quite different personalities alltogether, they seemed to get along well. Zeidgram received someone who could train him to better master the sword, so that it wouldn't just be a decoration piece but a viable weapon. Even if he had already struck down his mentor with it, he had formerly never truly relied on it. Nor had he felt the need to do so, as he was adept with his words alone. But his comeradeship with Trieyne did change his mind and he took the offer. In return he offered the more martial minded man some advice so that he could solve his own life's issues. In the end, Trieyne became his right hand man and was left in charge of the underground movement whenever he was absent. The cathedral was left in the temporary care of a senior student in return.

Several years would pass, and the red mage would grow both in knowledge of the world, people and the magic that were at his beck and call. Gradually he felt that he was getting a few steps closer towards his dream. However when the blight made itself known across the land, Zeidgram was naturally bothered by such a thing and sought to find out the truth about it, perhaps it held some connection to the ruins of his dreams. So it was only natural that he answered Lord Leonhart's call for champions. Perhaps he could find some people which would dare venture into the place alongside him? Only time would tell.



Traits:

- Mentor mentality. Tends to preach as if he were hundreds of years old, even in the presence of older folks.
- Calculating. There's always a plan in motion inside his head.
- Doesn't indulge in alcohol at all.
- Capable swordsman.
- Corruptive philosophies. Like sweet poison, this man's honeyed words are seductive as they are sedative.
- Conversation craving.
- Guarded. Will check all things for poison. Light sleeper. Has weapon close-by. Distrusts people and believes only in that they will abide by their individual nature.
- Knowledge of flora and fauna. Knows what to eat and survive in the wilds. Also will check for poisons.
- Can read old magical scriptures and tomes.
- Knowledge how to handle magical devices.
- Dislikes bards, fishing and people who talk to themselves.

Relationships:

Trieyne Throne: Swordsman of Lunaris, close confidant and right hand. In charge of the Vigilants of Vol in Zeidgram's absence.
Zurman Wündelleá (Deceased): Father. Former leader of the Cathedral of Danube in Lunaris. Taught his son how to use white magic. Died in a clash with his son's mentor.
Laulie Wündelleá (Missing): Mother. Scholar and archeologist investigating old ruins near Lunaris.
Lord Dranek Volkazas (Deceased): Mentor. Taught him the dark arts (black magic) and was a close confidant. Was mortally wounded in a battle with Zeidgram's father and finally put to death by the son.

Personal theme music

youtube.com/watch?v=3YfxT85qwCg&list=…

Voice

youtube.com/watch?v=Qep52PiDzuY&t=70s

Final Fantasy: Lightseekers

Cut by a thousands ducks!

Final Fantasy: Lightseekers

I am very sorry about the three which didn't make it through, I would have loved to have roleplayed with each one of you. I was already pondering about how my character would have interacted with yours, even if I was uncertain if he would make it due to the large text-cluster of my sheet and how I had arranged things. I would like to have thought my character would have been highly intrigued in a fellow red mage, and been abit too nosy around him to basically pry him open. "Reveal to me thine secrets!" Sort of manner. Rheine on the other hand might have come to feel like a librarian being picked up by a biker and placed on his motorbike, such an interaction between an extrovert like my character and an introvert like Rheine would have been very amusing. Lastly with Solace, my character would have leapt on that PTSD sort of guy and probably seen about adding a couple of more layers of things to be worried about, that and cringe everytime hearing a song or any music being played. All things considered, I can imagine the choice wasn't easy to pick only 8, and I did enjoy reading your character sheets, so keep your heads raised high. /Dez.

Final Fantasy: Lightseekers

Still waiting to get back home, still on that 24 hour shift. Will tidy up my sheet, add some coinpouch to his inventory and after reading Izayoi's sheet, I gotta add a theme and who would voice my guy haha 😁

Final Fantasy: Lightseekers

Zeidgram

"I'll rather break the world, than let the world break me. People will always do what is in their nature to do, find out their true nature and you can foresee the future and the daggers which seeks to plant themselves in your back."

GENERAL INFORMATION

Name: Zeidgram Wündelleá (pron:Wynn-delle-eA)

Age: 36

Gender: Male

Race: Sollan

Origin: Lunaris (Edren)

COMBAT INFORMATION

Class: Red Mage

Weapon: Kiltia (Double-edged epée)

Inventory:

Waterskin
Rations
Small metal bowl
Small mirror
Silk rope
Grappling hook
Locket containing portrait of his parents and himself as a child.
Coinpouch (Enough coin for lodging and food for one month)

Materia: Summoning, Teleportation

Limit Breaks: Redlight Restriction: Zeidgram shoots out homing beams of red light towards his target(s), these rays themselves deal no pain or physical harm. But it draws the mana and the very lifeforces out of those hit by it, and pulls it back towards Zeidgram as if he would become it's vessel. Before unleashing all the energy out from himself in the shape of homing orbs of red light.

In the case of there being only a single enemy, his limitbreak is very very weak compared to others. Whereof if he faces several or a larger amount of enemies it significantly increases in power to become truly destructive as he would have then gathered more energy to unleash. Great for fighting large amounts of foes, but not very effective against a lone target.

PERSONAL INFORMATION

Appearance Details: Wears a red longcoat with a set of black and gold shoulderpads, he wears a white long scarf around his neck, his pants are also white, his undershirt is black, he sports a pair of black and gold gauntlets. The back of his long hair is tied up in a broad ponytail which hangs down along his back, ending just above his rear end.

Personality: A cautious, calculating and steadfast individual. There are many ways to describe the red mage, to some he is regarded as dangerous, infuriating and cowardly. In other cases he may be regarded highly for his insightful words, his ability to discern the nature of people and his way with words. Zeidgram is someone who gets along well with people who are submissive, calm and those who view life in a darker way, while on the other hand he doesn't get along well with hotheaded, impulsive and in-your-face personalities.

As far as he is concerned, those who have no order in their mind and heart are inferior to those which do. He respects those who show patience, willingness to listen and share their innermost feelings and thoughts. People who refuse to heed his words, or display recklessness or display signs of secrecy are regarded in a much more negative light. While he respects people's privacy and will not press overly much to have people tell him what he desires to know, he is still highly intrigued in learning about people.

Perhaps it is due to his desire to find like-minded individuals. While he almost never admit to his wrongdoings he does acknowledge them when they occur, he is for example not as hungry for knowledge as he were in his younger years, now he is more cautious and plays in his own mind various possibilities and scenarios, in an attempt to foresee what lies beyond the present.

Biography: Zeidgram is a native to the settlement known as Lunaris, born and raised in the place by his parents. His father was a white mage which was highly respected and influencial in Lunaris due to his ability to cure ailments and bring relief to many who could find no curatives in the mundane ways. He was also in charge of a cathedral dedicated to Danube, and that's where his father first met with Zeidgram's mother, a scholar who shared his faith and was investigating the old ruins near Lunaris. As the years passed, the white mage and the scholar brought a child into the world, and it was common belief amidst the close circle of the duo that this boy were surely meant to bring about great things for Lunaris and Edren as a whole.

The boy's parents saw to giving their child a good upbringing, his father passing along his own trade to his son, teaching him how to heal and remove ailments, among other defensive magics. But due to his son's early craving for knowledge, saw to pass along offensive white magic aswell. Albeit with some reluctance, the father realized that it would surely be good if his son could defend himself if the need would arise. Nontheless the white mage did what was within his power to make certain that his son could someday take over his work at the cathedral. While the boy's mother had other plans entirely, for she saw her son's craving for knowledge in a similar light to her own craving to learn about old trinkets and places. Thus the boy also came to practice scholarly ways of thinking, debating, philosophies and ways to understand the past of not only Edren, but even a few things beyond it's borders. Both parents had their own desire for the boy's future, yet were it their place to chose it for him? When he became 16 years of age, the boy found himself overlooking the old ruins near Lunaris, and while he was gazing over it, someone else was gazing over at him. A man. A man who were around his father's age, yet his stature and overall aura was reeking of power.

This man, Dranek was a local nobleman, a lord of a large amount of land in Lunaris. While Zeidgram were not impressed by fancy titles nor about material wealth, the boy found a mentor in the older man. Lord Dranek Volkazas, was no ordinary nobleman. He was in fact a black mage, not just any black mage but one who had once in a time been a companion to his mother, a lover of the past. Much like his mother, Dranek was intrigued by the old ruins near Lunaris, believing some great power was hidden within it, just waiting for the right kind of person to find. To Zeidgram, the ruins had always been in the back of his mind, the source of much intrigue, yet he had never gone there, on the request of both his parents.

It wasn't as he was dreading the place like many others, but neither was he foolish enough to hurl himself into a dark pit. He was young. Not a fool. Perhaps it was traces of his mother that the black mage saw in him, or the resemblence of the man which had beaten him in the game of love. Lord Volkazas took the young man as a student, teaching him about things which his father would not, could not teach him. The dark arts. He had only heard his father mention it, and how it were something to stay clear of. Yet much like a moth to the flame, he was drawn to learn more about it. Knowing just one half of the puzzle was simply not going to do it, he had to delve into the more tabbooed dark arts. Rid himself of any doubts.

He was the wielder of the power, it would not ever rule over him. It was his knowledge and his choice in life to take, to tread upon the greyed out path between the light and the dark. Perhaps by doing so he would understand the world better... As the years passed and the young man became an adult, he was now the second in command of the cathedral under his father, but in secret he was also the closest retainer to Lord Volkazas. During ten years time he was studying the very thing his father had warned him about, and he had gotten good at calling forth the dark arts much to a similar manner as his white magic. But his dual-treaded path would soon find itself and obstacle.

His mother who were studying the ruins finally took the leap and joined an expedition to explore it's depths, without having notified Zeidgram nor his father of doing so. When the matter finally dawned on them, his father commanded the now 26 year old to stay in the cathedral and forbade him from following him. It lasted for a few moments, then the man left for his mentor Lord Volkazas and notified him of what had just happened. The teacher and the student quickly left towards the ruins, getting to it's border just in time to collide with the white mage.

Then began a short hurling of words between the two men, his mentor who blamed his father for allowing his wife to enter the place, and the father blamed the black mage for having had a hand in it. Was it fate that caused the both men to instantly begin to unleash their respective magics upon each other. The explosions caused the settlement to notice and they dispatched many men and women to investigate. What they witnessed was a clash of the light and dark, until their duel engulfed both of them in fire. When the dust finally settled, amidst the craters and the scorched earth he found his father's lifeless body, his hand clenching his staff. Next to him a locket containing a picture of himself, his wife and child. Not too far away stood the black mage, his mentor, mortally wounded but still standing.

The people gazed upon the black mage with fear, for what they had seen had been how one of the local lords had now struck down a man they respected, who had helped many of them. It were with determined steps that Zeidgram had strode forth towards his teacher, the tip of the blade found itself sliding into the chest of the mage. His larger body began to slump forwards, over the younger man. It were with sorrowful words that the younger man lamented what he had to do, but before the black mage's life went out of him. Zeidgram parted a few words close to his mentor's ear which only he could hear, they were words of gratefulness and with the promise that someday his efforts would not be in vain. That someday. The secret of those ruins would be uncovered, and that it would be thanks to his teachings. And that the student would become a master himself.

To the people of Lunaris, they now had a champion in the new head of the cathedral of Danube, he who struck down the black mage and avenged the respected white mage. It did not come to him as a surprise that a new generation sought to learn the path of the white mage so that they someday could defend Lunaris from a similar threat. Their enthusiasm was admirable, as were their eagerness to learn. But their view of what had happened had been wrong, light was as blinding as the darkest of voids. As far as Zeidgram was concerned, only someone who walked upon the edge of the coin could properly judge both sides of it. Thus it came to be, that the student became a teacher to the young and old alike, to the degree that a new faction rose in Lunaris known as the Order of the Red Moon. It was their duty to track down black mages anywhere they could be found and bring them in to the cathedral to be interrogated and incarcerated by Zeidgram. Many of these mages were never heard from again, it was rumored that they were deported to faraway lands or possibly sealed away in some prison underneath the old cathedral.

Whereof the truth of the matter were that these suspected black mages were in fact recruited by Zeidgram himself and turned into an underground movement dedicated to gather magical devices, old tomes and trinkets. They became known as Vigilants of Vol, and in secrecy they begun to pull strings and practices in the dark. Amidst the workings of the light and dark, each unaware of the other, it was only Zeidgram who had the view of the full picture.

It were also around this time that the man found himself a confidant, a local master of the sword, Trieyne Throne. While the two men were certainly of different origins, and quite different personalities alltogether, they seemed to get along well. Zeidgram received someone who could train him to better master the sword, so that it wouldn't just be a decoration piece but a viable weapon. Even if he had already struck down his mentor with it, he had formerly never truly relied on it. Nor had he felt the need to do so, as he was adept with his words alone. But his comeradeship with Trieyne did change his mind and he took the offer. In return he offered the more martial minded man some advice so that he could solve his own life's issues. In the end, Trieyne became his right hand man and was left in charge of the underground movement whenever he was absent. The cathedral was left in the temporary care of a senior student in return.

Several years would pass, and the red mage would grow both in knowledge of the world, people and the magic that were at his beck and call. Gradually he felt that he was getting a few steps closer towards his dream. However when the blight made itself known across the land, Zeidgram was naturally bothered by such a thing and sought to find out the truth about it, perhaps it held some connection to the ruins of his dreams. So it was only natural that he answered Lord Leonhart's call for champions. Perhaps he could find some people which would dare venture into the place alongside him? Only time would tell.



Traits:

- Mentor mentality. Tends to preach as if he were hundreds of years old, even in the presence of older folks.
- Calculating. There's always a plan in motion inside his head.
- Doesn't indulge in alcohol at all.
- Capable swordsman.
- Corruptive philosophies. Like sweet poison, this man's honeyed words are seductive as they are sedative.
- Conversation craving.
- Guarded. Will check all things for poison. Light sleeper. Has weapon close-by. Distrusts people and believes only in that they will abide by their individual nature.
- Knowledge of flora and fauna. Knows what to eat and survive in the wilds. Also will check for poisons.
- Can read old magical scriptures and tomes.
- Knowledge how to handle magical devices.
- Dislikes bards, fishing and people who talk to themselves.

Relationships:

Trieyne Throne: Swordsman of Lunaris, close confidant and right hand. In charge of the Vigilants of Vol in Zeidgram's absence.
Zurman Wündelleá (Deceased): Father. Former leader of the Cathedral of Danube in Lunaris. Taught his son how to use white magic. Died in a clash with his son's mentor.
Laulie Wündelleá (Missing): Mother. Scholar and archeologist investigating old ruins near Lunaris.
Lord Dranek Volkazas (Deceased): Mentor. Taught him the dark arts (black magic) and was a close confidant. Was mortally wounded in a battle with Zeidgram's father and finally put to death by the son.

Personal theme music

youtube.com/watch?v=3YfxT85qwCg&list=…

Voice

youtube.com/watch?v=Qep52PiDzuY&t=70s

I am going to post this abit early (still feel like I want to put in a colour code, spelling check, alter some words and add a few more details on biography and personality section and make it look prettier. Also possible alterations to the two NPC groups my character would be involved with and it's members. But I won't be able to get to that til Sunday.

Final Fantasy: Lightseekers

Allright! Thanks!

Final Fantasy: Lightseekers

Can white magic be offensive in nature? (Example: Rays of light, Holy smiting blast, Cleansing fire)