Suicharte
BlackRoseSiren
Lildear18
Carlyle
Fallenreaper
Ti
Jumbus
Silly
Echotech71
AstroNPC Character Sheets_________ __ __ _ _
Arcel Pellegrin__ _ _ _ _
2 6 | M A L E | P A R R E N C E | F O R C E & T H U N D E R | K N I G H T / W I Z A R D__ _ _ _ _
C H A R A C T E R I S T I C S__ _ _ _ _
Newly crowned crowned king of the Parrench, Arcel is an enigma to all but those closest to him. He appears a thoughtful and steadfast young man, devout in faith and just in deed. Open to counsel, he is nonetheless resolute in his course once it is set. Rarely is Arcel's blood seen to run hot, though his voice is often raised in quip or jape, as his humour is almost invariably good. Indeed, he hears praise for this from the Somnian order. His is the calm of one chosen by Dami to lead. There are those who whisper that it is all-but unnatural. A young man should have passions. He should make mistakes! Yet, even they would admit that they are glad of his readiness to take the throne and lead so well at such a green age. At all times, this young ruler comports himself in a manner befitting his position.
Yet there may be more to the king than there appears. Many call him Arcel the Blessed, for it is almost without doubt that he is Dami's favourite son, or else beloved of Vyshta in the eyes of his handful of yasoi subjects. The near constant good fortune that follows him through life simply cannot be explained by mundane acts of man and nature. Truly, it stretches even the bounds of magic. Everything goes Arcel's way: at least personally. In battle, otherwise brave enemy soldiers turn coward miles from encountering him, bowstrings snap, castle foundations crack, roots trip charging knights, and swords stick in scabbards. In the palace, there has never been a conspiracy that he has not rooted out, but these are remarkably few. Always, even the most insidious of schemers seem to feel remorse when within the walls of Solenne. On the sea, storms seem to dissipate before he can sail through them and even shoals seem to collapse or make way for the vessel on which he travels. Truly, Arcel the Blessed is a holy man.
And yet, the young king remains in a constant state of readiness. One can feel the constant glow of energies, bound together in an almost yasoi fashion, that seem to follow him. He is always drawing, always prepared and, more than once, it has saved - if not his own life - the lives of his friends, family, and allies. Heavy is the head that wears the crown, but Arcel the Blessed, First of his name, King of Parrence, wears it with the utmost grace and dignity.
B A C K G R O U N D__ _ _ _ _
While most people in the present recognize Arcel as 'Blessed' and supreme in his good fortune, this was not always the case. Born third child and second son to King Rouis of Ile de Parrence, his boyhood would see the relatively large domain of his father expand to eventually encompass what are now the borders of the modern Parrench state. Through sword, trade, and diplomacy, the various duchies, counties, and lesser kingdoms were brought to heel and the two princes and princess lived in awe of their father.
Yet for all of the king's triumphs, it seemed as if the second son's young life compensated by way of tragedy. First came the death of his brother Laurent shortly before Arcel's seventh birthday, elevating him to the position of heir presumptive. It is not known for certain what impact this had on the boy, and the man does not speak of it, but those who were close to him note that he became solemn and gravitated immediately and with great seriousness towards his newfound duty.
It was four months after his tenth birthday, when he was just starting to gain his first magic, that the crown prince fell while climbing a ruined stone watchtower. It was an old thing from the Avincian days that occupied a far corner of the castle grounds and a favourite spot for him, his sister Adeline, and many other children. While Arcel was able to recover, partly thanks to the immediate help of the royal Wizard of the Blood, he very nearly broke his neck. His father had the accursed structure torn down, but similar incidents of misfortune followed: a foot slipping out of the stirrup while climbing onto a horse caused the animal to bolt and nearly led to him being trampled, a trip on the stairs was only prevented from being disastrous by a passing knight's well-timed intervention, and a terrible frostbite from playing in the snow for too long on a hundri's day nearly cost him a few toes. The whispers that he was somehow cursed grew in volume until he heard them given firm voice by his own parents.
It is unknown what sickness took him that year, but it must have been a grave one, as King Rouis called, in confidence, upon the finest physicians and wizards that the realm had to offer. When they could not resolve the issue to their ruler's satisfaction, young Arcel found himself packed up and shipped off to Grands-Arbres to seek healing among the yasoi. Meanwhile, the Queen, close to her fortieth year, walked about heavily pregnant and, nine months after her son's departure, died in childbirth. The infant, a girl named Tiphanie, was stillborn and revived only through blood magic, ineligible to inherit. Told of the calamity, Arcel wished to come home and was forbidden from doing so. Thus, with an initially heavy but increasingly light heart, he lived among the yasoi within the towering cloud forests that they called home for three and a half years, until the day after his fourteenth birthday.
It is unknown precisely what took place there and even the normally affable yasoi remain tight-lipped about it, but the Arcel that returned seemed healed in body, mind, and spirit: ready and eager to take the reins as heir to the kingdom. For the next ten years, the youth would travel about the lands of the Parrench peoples, incorporating ever more into his father's growing kingdom. He personally brought the ferocious Tourrare of the Northeast steppes into the fold and he remains the only king to which their proud lords have willingly bowed since the days of the Avincians. He also took as his wife the brilliant and beautiful Eleanor of Nazaire, daughter of the powerful Duke Odo, bringing the expansive duchy and its vassal holdings into the realm and effectively ending the consolidation of the Parrench kingdom. Nine months after their wedding night, she produced twin children: Rouis, named for his grandfather, and Joan. In between her patronages of various religious orders, Eleanor began seeing immediately to their care and education.
Yet, with the ink on the writ of homage only recently dried and King Rouis' second crowning still under preparation, the old monarch found himself called to join Aun-Echeran in rest. The Eskandr, vile paiens that they are, did not even wait for the period of mourning to end, nor did they give a thought to the Gods in which they had chosen not to believe. On the first day of Loël, the holiest feast of the year, they poured over the Southern frontier, looting, raping, and murdering. The uncrowned king completed the final three days of the mourning period before casting off his black robes. If Arcel's manner was calm and steady, it was resolute. The Eskandr would ever prey upon the peace-loving peoples of Parrence if they were unable or unwilling to defend themselves. The southern barbarians were without morals or honour and needed to be routed so thoroughly that they would never march north again: so thoroughly that they would now be the ones to guard their borders in fear of Parrench hordes.
Crowned on the Ides of Verdi in the Cathédrale de l'Etoile Sacrée in the capital of Solenne, King Arcel now turns his wroth upon those who would harm his people and his realm and promises to fight them with every fibre of his being. In this great Holy War, one people will flourish and the other will fall. He is determined that his will be the former.
I N V E N T O R Y__ _ _ _ _
❖ Kingly Articles, including the great seal of Parrence
❖ Longsword of the finest Mycormish steel, named Silver Ghost
❖ A rich coinpurse
❖ A trio of mysterious vials that serve an unknown purpose but are always on his person
❖ A brooch with the portraits of his dear children filigreed inside
❖ Horses galore, of the finest pedigree. His favourite is an ivory white plains charger named Éclair
T H E G I F T__ _ _ _ _
Wheel Rating: unknown (rumoured either very high or rather low depending on your source)
Schools: Essence, Force, and [REDACTED]
Unlike many of the noble caste who make a great show of lifting apples into their mouths at dinnertime, inducing their banners to flutter grandly, and warming the drinks of their ungifted allies, Arcel is rarely seen to put this set of abilities to use. Outside of more domestic uses, few have actually seen him fight, and scurrilous and unfounded rumours occasionally find whispered voice that perhaps the young king is not actually much use in war. There are some, however, who swear to have witnessed him on the battlefield. All that they warn is to never, ever make him angry. Fortunately, they amend, the king is a very patient man.
S T R E N G T H S & S K I L L S__ _ _ _ _
❖ When stirred to emotion, Arcel is a passionate and powerful speaker.
❖ The King is generally an excellent consensus builder. He is reasonable, gives the impression that he actually listens and, if all else fails, can rely on a commanding presence despite his young age.
❖ Arcel has received the finest of educations in both the mundane and the magical. He his very literate, well-spoken and read, and can communicate well in yasoi, Avincian, Drudgunzean, the Tourrare dialect, and some Eskandr in addition to his mother tongue.
❖ There is something subtle but unplaceable that makes it seem like a very unwise decision to set oneself against the king.
W E A K N E S S E S & F L A W S__ _ _ _ _
❖ In his fortress of stoicism, Arcel can often seem remote from the everyday concerns of his peers.
❖ There are rumours that his mysterious childhood illness is not truly cured but rather merely held at bay.
❖ Arcel's humble nature often precludes him from seizing opportunities that may come his way for fear of appearing arrogant.
❖ His degree of battle prowess is not widely known. This, compared with his young age and youthful appearance ensure that he does not command very much respect from his enemies (and even some potential or tentative allies).
C O L O U R C O D E & O T H E R__ _ _ _ _
❖ Hex code: 00aeef
Talit'yrash'osmax__ _ _ _ _
placeholder
2 3 | F E M A L E | Y A S O I | F O R C E, S P A T I A L & B L O O D | D E R V I S H__ _ _ _ _
C H A R A C T E R I S T I C S__ _ _ _ _
Talit is, in many ways, the most yasoi of yasoi imaginable. Tall, slim, and dark-haired, with large gold-green eyes and bold, colourful tetsoi, she is quite striking and stands out immediately in a crowd. She is perhaps closest to caricature in character for she is never not pacing, fidgeting, absorbed in multiple pursuits, or talking at someone regardless of whether they're even pretending to pay attention or not. Talit loves being amusing and original. She relishes those chances to show other people something fun or interesting. Her lust for adventure and intriguing experiences and possessions seems to know virtually no bounds, and she seems summarily unlikely to let anything get in her way. Overprotective older family members? That's Disney princess shit. A human race increasingly wary and unwelcoming of her people? A mere trope. Not a coin to her name? Slaying dragons makes you money... An entire missing leg? 'Tis but a flesh wound!
Well, that's the rub, isn't it? That last one's a bit of an inconvenience. On the surface, Talit (or Tali, as she's known to humans) just kind of takes it in stride and is able to stand on her own two feet foot without much issue. She's really just putting her best foot forward, though, and I think you may be starting to get the picture of what she's like. Beneath the veneer of easygoing, self-deprecating good humour, having one leg does bother her a bit. Truth be told, it isn't even so much the disability - she's otherwise a magnificent physical specimen and has ample magic to compensate - it's the fact that it has to be such a big deal. She is, has been for a dozen years, and has also grudgingly accepted that she will probably always be recognized primarily as 'that one-legged lady' in the eyes of others. It also doesn't help when you come from a culture that assigns your middle name based on your most obvious characteristic or widely known deed. Talit is going to do something so great someday that they'll have to call her 'seramosh' (dragon slayer) instead of 'yrash' (one leg) once and for all.
Beyond being a slightly frustrated caricature of yasoiness, Tali is rather self-aware, especially by the standards of her people. She has strong opinions and strong opinions often cause conflict, so she has become a master of deflection and distraction: an offhand comment, a joke, a question about something that a conversational partner is passionate about. She has a whole repertoire of tricks: anything to avoid conflict or unpleasantness. Life is short (and even shorter for puny humans - ha!) and she's determined to enjoy every ounce of it. Like most of her people, Tali has a strong dislike for anyone who infringes upon the freedoms and safety of others, but she won't express it. A direct attack is often too costly and opens oneself up to harm. Sudden and absolute is the path to take. You finish your enemies without mercy and - if possible - before they even know that they're your enemies.
Truth be, told, though, Tali would really rather avoid making enemies at all. She was raised on the stories of epic journeys that her triple-great-grandmother told her. They were fodder for her young imagination and remain favourite subjects of her various paintings, alongside things that she encounters during everyday life. She'd like to see more, though, and do so safely. Tali often (semi)jokingly comments that she wishes she could snap her fingers, make herself empress of the world, and bring about a utopia. Sadly, she acknowledges that things just don't work that way. Maybe she could change them though. Maybe she should! The question just is... where to begin?
B A C K G R O U N D__ _ _ _ _
A child of prophecy...or not. Tali is secretly relieved that she's not some goddess incarnate. She'd like to stick around past age twenty-five. More coming soon!
I N V E N T O R Y__ _ _ _ _
❖ Belts, straps, and bandoliers galore
❖ A small pouch full of flavoured chicle gum from a Myxashim tree. She has learned not to chew while doing Dervish things.
❖ A brightly-coloured kerchief that a man she loves friend gave her years ago, when they were kids.
❖ A couple of rolled up pieces of parchment, a horsehair brush, and some oils to help make natural paints.
❖ A pair of 'cane crutches' which are basically just a primitive version of forearm crutches. She goes through these like toothpicks and just uses her skill in Blood Magic to create more on demand.
❖ A coinpurse which, in theory, is full of coins. It's usually tucked somewhere hard for pickpockets to reach.
❖ A dagger tucked into her boot. Don't worry. It's mostly for mundane things. Mostly.
❖ Knapsack full of her Dervish gear when she's not wearing it and needs to bring it somewhere.
T H E G I F T__ _ _ _ _
Wheel Rating: Fifth Wheel. Yup.
Magic Schools: Force, Blood, Spatial, Essence (in that order)
Tali was first identified as a prodigy with the Gift at about the age of nine. Since then, with some ups and downs, she has grown considerably in her ability to use it. Originally well over fifth wheel, it was believed by many that she was destined to be one of the Five Bringers since she was born in the right year as well. The loss of her leg and the blood that it held cost her close to a fifth of her mana and ended speculation that she might be any sort of deity.
That said, Tali is still both prodigiously strong and determined not to make the most of her Gift. It's not that there's some active antipathy. She's just chosen a path that doesn't focus on the independent use of magic. As a Dervish, she uses chains or cables (she prefers neither) to travel rapidly through forests, urban, and other elevated areas, rapidly uncoiling them with Force magic and launching them at obstacles. When anchored, she can pull herself instantly in three dimensions, moving with great speed and fluidity, detaching and reattaching from anchor points. In combat, she makes use of punch or kick-daggers, poisoned dart launchers, the chains themselves, and mid-length pop-out blades to compliment her movement and launch dizzying attacks from unexpected directions. Indeed, given the irrelevance of traditional locomotion, all of her extremities are tipped with weapons and, occasionally, even her elbows, knee, and stump. Unlike Dervishes of lesser power, often in the 1.5 - 3 range, Tali's ability to draw and create matter with Blood Magic allows her to rotate her weaponry in and out in moments and at will: crucial in making up for the disadvantage of having one less limb to work with. She often doesn't carry chains or cables either. After years of practice and a number of near-falls to her death, she has mastered the art of creating and dissolving these on demand and while in motion in a near-endless loop.
On open ground, Dervishes focus on creating an exclusion zone of whirling chains and blades, picking off approaching enemies and projectiles with these. In general, they must be excellent at keeping track of multiple stimuli at once, and Talit excels at this. While most are reliant upon switching out blades before combat, she once again uses her abilities with Blood Magic to simply reshape them. She puts these talents to further use, forming dagger-tipped chains that she will only whirl temporarily before releasing as projectiles at enemies, guiding them with Force Magic. Finally, she often modifies the chains themselves to either be great reverse 'sails', generating massive winds, or to be razor sharp blades, screaming along at over two hundred miles per hour, ready to scythe through anything within a radius of ten yards. Of course she can just clumsily use magic the traditional way too or... smack you with her crutches. Where's the fun in that, though?
S T R E N G T H S & S K I L L S__ _ _ _ _
❖ Three
❖ to four
❖ of these
❖ go here
W E A K N E S S E S & F L A W S__ _ _ _ _
❖ Three
❖ to four
❖ of these
❖ go here
C O L O U R C O D E & O T H E R__ _ _ _ _
Your character's hex code and any other miscellaneous information. Feel free to use bullet points.
❖ Hex Code: 598527
