Nosuchthing

Baybridge: Old Ghosts [COMPLETED]

---

Alice Barrett

---

Springtown

“Stay down you piece of shit.”

The man’s chest slammed into the asphalt as Alice materialised on his back. She pulled his hands behind his back and zip tied them with a practised movement. He struggled futilely for a moment, complaining.

“You’re hurting me!”

Alice stood up, “yeah? And you weren’t going to hurt that couple?”

“They’re metas! Freaks!”

Alice grimaced, “probably could have picked up that I’m one of those freaks you don’t like.”

Another voice interrupted, “Agent! Sorry… you’re… faster than us…”

The cops weren’t particularly out of breath, they didn’t look like they’d really been running all that hard. If she’d still been in NYC she would have thought that it was simply because they knew she’d run him down easily. Here though, they didn’t look too happy that she’d caught up with the man who had gone after the mother with the furry child.

She read the perp his rights, then handed him over to the officers, after first making sure she knew his name and address so she could check up that he was processed correctly later. Things had been tense since the mall last week, since the market. Alice couldn’t entirely blame people. It was hard enough just be normal without having to worry about those people that weren’t, those people that could bend space or freeze a person solid with a thought. It terrified Alice, and she could do it herself.

In most situations it should have just been cops taking the man down, not a RAVEN agent. There was too much anti-metahuman sentiment on the streets however, and RAVEN was working flat-out to deal with the aftermath of last week’s events. She could only imagine how busy DOVE must be, dozens of people had spontaneously manifested abilities, and then subsequently lost control. Several of them were no killers, through no fault of their own, but Alice pitied them all the same.

It meant that they were now hated, and RAVEN was hated for not preventing it. She’d heard from DOVEs that more than a dozen metahumans had complained about losing their jobs since the riot in Greencrest. People were doing stupid things, she looked back in disgust at the man being shepherded into the squad car. For a moment she’d wanted to smash his face into the asphalt, but it would only have confirmed his view.

The world was becoming a darker, dirtier place by the minute; she only prayed that she could escape it still clean.

---

Ellen Nile

---

Academy 61

Ellen enjoyed school about as much as the next kid, although the next kid had his head on the desk beside her and she was pretty sure he was asleep. That was beyond her, once a week she could sleep, no more, and no less. It would sound like hell to anyone else, most people her age struggled just to get up in the morning, and an all-nighter would put them in an awful mood for the rest of the day. Not her, she was as bright and chipper after four all-nighters as anyone was after a full night of deep refreshing sleep. At least it meant she had escaped the caffeine addiction that seemed to be sweeping her class. Her altered brain chemistry meant that when she actually needed to sleep, no amount of drugs could keep her awake, or at least not caffeine.

She squinted at the board, it seemed unusually bright, and she toned down her perception a little, careful not to tone down the actual light in the room. Experimentation had absorbed most of her first day with her new ability, it frequently did with something like this. It wasn’t as easy as the physiology she’d had last week, that came with a whole parcel of instincts and movements sort of built in. This ability seemed a lot more complex than anything she’d had so far, and she knew she would never be able to understand all of it.

She’d screamed when she’d first opened her eyes, the enormous amount of input overwhelming sensory organs that might be evolved for it, but certainly weren’t prepared for it. She’d locked herself in her room for hours and painstakingly tuned out each frequency until she worked out which one was the normal one.

She hadn’t taken the drug.

It was concealed now at the bottom of a draw, wrapped in a jumper, away from prying eyes. Not that the Academy was in the habit of searching her rooms, but she felt like she shouldn’t discuss it. She didn’t know who the strange ceramic creature had been, and now thought of him as her mysterious benefactor, enjoying that thought a little. She needed to talk to someone about it though, and was pretty sure that he would not be the best candidate.

She pulled her phone out as she stepped out of class, pulling up a contact and heading towards a more private area so she could talk without someone else accidentally listening in.

“Hi mom.”

“Hey honey, what’s up?”

Ellen tried to call her mom at least once or twice a week anyway, and had in fact called her yesterday. She could hardly be called clingy, and she didn’t really get homesick, just Academy sick, so another call so soon was out of character.

“Can you talk?”

“Sure, I’m on my break, you ok?”

Her mom sounded concerned, though not exactly worried, she knew Ellen could mostly look after herself. Even so, she was a mother, and a child doing something out of character would always be a cause for concern for a mother.

Ellen paused, already unsure of how to continue, hey mom, some random stranger gave me a drug to control my power, I thought I might take it.

“Do you think… maybe one day they might fix me?”

“Oh honey,” Her sigh on the other end of the line was faint, but audible, “you don’t need fixing, you’re amazing just as you are.”

“Thanks mom, but really… do you think it’ll ever become easier?”

“I don’t know hon, maybe, you know they’re always discovering new things, but you don’t need it. You know I love you no matter what right?”

“I know mom.”

The bell for next period began to ring.

“I gotta go.”

“Ok honey, I love you, I’ll talk to you later ok?”

“Sure, love you.”

“Love you too.”

Ellen hung up and began walking to her next lesson, though she kept her head down, composing an email.

>_To: [e-mail]
Hi agent Keagan, I think I need to have another meeting with you. Can I book something with you some time this week?

Ellen

She doubted that Agent Keagan would have any answers, but the vial freaked her out. She’d been tempted to take it straight away after she woke up, the light pouring into her eyes and leaving her barely able to move for the pain in her head. She’d put it back, but it kept creeping in, lurking at the back of her mind. It could be a chance to avoid situations like that, to avoid looking like a freak. She was afraid of that too. You’d have to be stupid not to notice what was going on in Baybridge. People hated metahumans, and looking different was a sure sign of that. She didn’t want to become an easy target for people like that. Worse still, she didn’t know what RAVEN or DOVE were doing about it, whatever it was didn’t seem to be enough.

Knights of Melarus

@Nosuchthing I updated the OP. Do you have any particular perspective color in mind for Vyri?

@Maxx

Sure, I'm gonna go with this purple

Knights of Melarus

Pietro: He’s an ass, just the same as any of the spoiled, bratty kids at the academy.

Karkadin: He seems nice, really, but those tentacles…

Theresa: I wish I could be as strong as she is, she just makes me realise how much I shouldn’t be here.

Kane: He seems to care, but then he looks at everything like it’s just part of one of those equations the Sages are always talking about, just numbers, not people. I don’t quite know what to make of him.

Wizzlebee: He seems nice, and fun, and clever, and something about him annoys Eleuril to no end. That alone would be enough to make me like him.

Benedict: He speaks honestly, I prefer that to silvertongued sneering nobles. Seriously though… what is he? How did he end up like that?

Arya : Finally, someone who understands what sarcasm is!

Shux: It’s like he has two faces, he’s like the boys back home, charming and sweet if you have something he wants, like your honour…

Kathleen: I feel like we have a lot in common, or at least the habit of poking our noses where they don’t belong.

Royce: I know exactly where I will be hiding when things go wrong. And they will go wrong.

Anna: I wonder if this is what Eleuril was like when he was young and not stuck inside my head? She takes herself far too seriously.

Baybridge: Old Ghosts [COMPLETED]

And updated with Ellen's new power for this week :)

Power:

Light Manipulation – Ellen’s latest ability is considerably different to the last one, and allows her to fiddle with certain things considered inalienable by physics. She now possesses photokinesis, the power to manipulate light. She can perceive light on any spectrum, which led to a number of migraine headaches at the beginning of her current metamorphosis. Now she simply blocks out what she can, though occasionally some slips through, causing confusion or discomfort when she observes things humans are not meant to see.

This also allows her to create strange effects in their air, literally bending light, or even preventing it from entering an area entirely. Though her powers are limited by her understanding and complete lack of practice. In a small area about herself, perhaps twenty feet, she can block out all light, creating what appears to be a black orb. This doesn’t stop anything else, bullets can still enter the area, and since the orb is centred on her it is not impossible to hit her. She can also perform the opposite, and magnify light, concentrating it in an area with such blazing brilliance that in can scorch retinas and cause temporary blindness.

She can even, with considerable concentration, generate illusions, although not quite. By manipulating the direction light travels she can slightly adjust the apparent locations of people. For the most observant of people there will still remain a slight shimmer at the true location of the person, but they will appear to be stood instead a few feet to the side.

Limits:

She can only manipulate light within about twenty feet of herself, beyond that she has no power over it, though if she stopped light travelling through that radius, it would not simply continue its travel on the other side.

Weaknesses/Drawbacks:

As already mentioned Ellen can perceive light on every spectrum, but has limited tolerance for it, having only just about got the hang of blocking out everything but the normal visible spectrum, as such, flooding an area with a wide variety of differing spectrums can put her in considerable distress.

Knights of Melarus

Pietro:

Vyri: Let's b-actually, let's not.

@Maxx

Yeah, Vyri can't even look at herself in the mirror anymore, lets just not go there XD

Knights of Melarus

Vyri Underfoot

Name: Vyri Underfoot
Age: 19
Gender: Female
Species: Human

Background

Kingdom of Origin: Nepharie
Parents: Mari Underfoot
Alanan Underfoot

Backstory: Vyri is a servant, or rather, was a servant. The National Academy of Sorcery is a huge institution, and like all huge institutions, has a great deal more below the surface than most are aware of. Dozens of forgotten corridors honeycomb the ancient buildings, forgotten except to the legions of servants, footmen, maids, cooks, deliverymen and other staff without whom the Academy would swiftly grind to a halt.

It is much the same in all of the institutions upon Creation, for every opulent feast there are a dozen cooks sweating over the ovens, for every alchemist’s accident there is a maid scrubbing the soot marks from the walls. They are the people who make the world go round, but they are never particularly important in the grand scheme of things, content simply to go home after a job well done. The world does not rest on their shoulders, and the fate of nations does not depend on their decision. It is, for the most part, a peaceful life.

It is about this time that Vyri is dearly wishing she had never wanted something more. The life of a servant in the Academy of Sorcery is simple. They are well looked after, with adequate servant quarters and pay that is to be expected, plus free access to any leftovers from Academy meals. The Underfoots, as the name suggests, have served at the Academy for as far back as the family can remember. Vyri’s father was a servant, his father was a servant, and his father before him. It was the same for her mother’s family.

Vyri didn’t want that, she wasn’t content, she wanted to leave, to adventure, to live the life her parent’s had never had an interest in. They told her it would just be a phase, to just stay for a little longer. There was not really anywhere for her to go anywhere, they were paid, but not enough that she could simply go adventuring.

It was stupid, how could she have been so stupid? That one decision that changed her life had to be the most foolish thing she had ever done.

The National Academy of Sorcery contains perhaps the premier collection of sorcerous artefacts in the world. Though each of them pales in comparison to Godbane they still represent power unmatched by an private collection. The most powerful artefacts are locked behind sealed portals, access available only to the most senior of the Academy’s mages and the Council themselves.

Other items are kept in various strong rooms, their magic faded or the purpose long since forgotten. Vyri stole one.

How she wishes she could put it back. It appears to be a simple ring made of iron, clearly of magical origin to those with the sense, but with no apparent power of its own. Such is often the case when things are not truly understood. Though the Academy has long forgotten the rings origin, the ring has not. It has lain undisturbed for centuries, even millennia, until finally it found someone to bear it.

Vyri took something that she though would not be missed. She only wanted a thrill, that sense of adventure she was denied within the walls of the Academy. Had she committed her act of rebellion a year earlier then perhaps she would have remained there. Things are changing in Tithe, the dead roam the land, and it has stirred other things that lie just beyond the veil.

The being that dwelt within the ring awoke when she placed it upon her finger, and Eleuril, ancient Sage of the Faefolk, a figure forgotten by history and legend, spoke into her mind.

Vyri is stuck with the ring. She cannot remove it from her finger, try as she might, and she cannot ignore the voice that speaks inside her head. That and it was only a matter of time before someone realised that the ring was missing. She stole what little money she could, and fled the Academy, heading north towards Talbor, following the hordes of the undead.

The ring has its own history. Once a great academic, Eleuril became obsessed with the thought that his knowledge and understanding would be lost and dedicated what remained of his years to prolonging his life indefinitely. The amount of God-blood that would have been required to accomplish such a task would have been impossible to acquire, even so long ago, so he sought other routes, and eventually fell into darker studies, exploring the tenuous link between the soul, the body, and magic. He came across a text, something old even in his time, but preserved far beyond its natural end by the sorcery of its author. It spoke of the soul, and the body, and how to manipulate and separate the two. These petty manipulations and pursuits of power held no interest for the Sage however, he wanted something far simpler, and perhaps far more costly. Though he succeeded in prolonging his life far beyond what it should have been he could still feel his strength seeping away, his life gradually ending. A slip, a misbalance of power, and he ripped his own soul from his body, binding it within the ring he used as a foci. When the Council realised what one of their most prized Sages had been doing they obliterated all record of him, and now only brief mention can be found of him in the footnotes of history, much to his chagrin.

Physical Appearance:

Height: 5'7
Weight: 100lbs
Appearance: Vyri is relatively tall for a servant, standing a slightly gangly 5’7. She has the sort of form that suggests she is wanting of a few square meals, but is rather a product of a hyperactive metabolism instead of a lack of food. She bears the typical complexion of those of Nepharie, swarthy, though only particularly dark when exposed to the sun for long periods of time. Her hair is dark, too frizzy, and usually pulled back into a ponytail for convenience.

Her eyes are large, green, and not unattractive, though often too expressive. She’s not a natural liar, and catching her off guard can often lead to her giving away the truth through her expression.

She was raised a servant, has lived as a servant, and, in her mind, will probably die a servant. She has that uncanny knack that servants acquire of simply fading into the foreground, being so much a part of the situation that they are almost unnoticeable. She walks hunched over, trying to make herself as small as possible, even more so in the time since she stole the ring, terrified of what might happen should someone discover what she hides beneath her gloves.
Attire: Solid and serviceable clothing is the order of the day for Vyri, with a long dress of cheap woollen cloth covered by an apron. She has acquired a cheap second hand cloak of heavy, faded wool and a pair of leather gloves that she rarely takes off in company.

Personality:

Personality: The spark of adventure is still alight in Vyri, she loves to visit new places and meet new people, and has an almost insatiable curiosity when it comes to either of those subjects, perhaps to the point of annoyance. With that spark of adventure comes a rebellious streak, and she has an embarrassing (for her parents) habit of answering back, with little patience for arrogance, especially in her ‘superiors’. Still, there is a part of her that regrets the road she has taken, and wishes that she could simply go home to her parents, to the life that was a lot simpler and a lot safer, without a sarcastic, grouch fairy in her head.

She doesn’t want fame, or recognition, and will happily pass the credit onto others if they want it. It helps that she has no desire to draw attention to herself, fearful that the Academy will find her and remove the ring by force, as every other technique she has tried has failed. Other than her habit of arguing with arrogant noble children she is mostly a kind and patient soul, though her patience is wearing thin now that her own head is not private. She has a tendency to irritability of late, though it is not her true nature.

She can be sarcastic, and has a rather sarcastic sense of humour, as well as a somewhat pessimistic outlook on life. Since taking the ring everything seems to have become a lot more complex and difficult, and she really sees no reason why it would possibly get any better.

Eleuril is equally as sarcastic, making them the perfect match. He is bad tempered though, and has none of her patience, especially for her and her unwillingness to allow him to use magic. He is cantankerous and ill-tempered, with little time for the foolish and even less time for those he considers beneath him, which fits just about everyone short of royalty. He does however, have some enjoyment of the debates of magic and magical theories with others of sufficient understanding. Unfortunately Vyri is not someone of sufficient understanding.
Hobbies: The life of a servant, even in the Academy of Sorcery is hardly filled with thrills, and having long since grown out of childish games she has instead acquired a taste for games of the mind, riddles and such.
Skills: Vyri was raised the daughter of a footman and a cook, and as such has acquired a number of skills from both. Though she would not be ready to serve food at a banquet, she knows her way around a cooking fire and can recognise and make use of natural herbs and seasonings. She also knows all she could ever need to know about maintaining cooking equipment, including sharpening knives, which could be extended to weaponry, though it is unlikely any warrior would let her near their sword.

She is also a gifted needlewoman, when clothing is supposed to last a long time you become accustomed to repairing tears and even adding simple embroidery. She could not match the skill of a professional tailor, but has an undeniable talent.

Abilities/Combat:
Abilities: As a servant, Vyri is comfortable blending into crowds, even in places she shouldn’t be, taking advantage of the fact that most of the higher classes wouldn’t even deign to notice her presence, let alone question it.

Eleuril however, is a very different matter. An ancient Sage, he remembers magic that has long since been forgotten, and is capable of wielding potent sorceries from eons past. Unfortunately, the fact that it is no longer his body means that his abilities are incredibly reduced from their great heights, and a Sage who once would have dwarfed even members of the Council is now brought down to what he considers a demeaning level.

When Vyri grants Eleuril permission to wield his powers then he effectively takes over control of her body, she can take it back, albeit it can take some effort. She also still retains some limited degree of control even after the fact, for example interfering with any spells or gestures he may make, throwing his aim or the predicted effect wildly off. It is possible that the two could come to something of a compromise, though neither is anywhere near such an event. His presence behind the spells becomes more or less apparent depending on the level of power they require. It can vary from simple incantations in which his control will simply cause her face to take on an expression of complete serenity, to mighty spells in which the presence of the Fae sage is tangible, even visible, a faint shadowy figure surrounding her, mimicking her movements.

The first element Eleuril mastered was that of air, long before he became a Sage, and it is still the element which comes to him easiest. It could be called instinctive, if it weren’t for instincts being long since forgotten along with his mortal remains. He is capable of a whole multitude of feats, from the simple task of an unexplained wind casting aside arrows, to more complex weavings that could pull the air from about a target, leaving them to gasp desperately at the vacuum that now surrounds them. He can shape the air about Vyri’s limbs, allowing her to move far more swiftly than she would otherwise be able to, and even achieve the same effect with allies should he wish, while hindering the motions of opponents. A simple application of basic meteorology also allows him to generate lightning bolts, hurling them like an angry god.

Though as a Sage he has an understanding and mastery of the other elements, and it is this that truly proves his greatest weapon. He was a learner first and foremost, someone who sought the deepest secrets of magic and wished to understand the workings of the world itself. As such he has a talent for understanding the spells of others, for deconstructing them and redirecting them. Though this can theoretically be applied to any spell, it isn’t much use if it is hurtling at Vyri at speed, greater workings, or enchantments however, will swiftly receive the scalpel like curiosity of his mind.
Weaponry: A handful of knives for preparing food, a frying pan, and a saucepan, in as much as they can be quantified as weapons. She also has a small sewing kit, and though thread is hardly lethal, the needles are wickedly sharp.
Weaknesses: Vyri is no warrior, she is a servant. Any fight with someone of actual skill will lead to her loss without a severe handicap to her opponent, and even then, she’d have to be lucky. Also, although the magical abilities Eleuril can wield through her would best most living sorcerer’s she has little fondness for them, disliking the sensation of being worn that comes with the ancient Sage’s will. He seems to require her permission in order to utilise magic, or at least has so far shown no ability to override her own free will, or no reason to.
Mount:

Other:

Knights of Melarus

Vyri Underfoot

Name: Vyri Underfoot
Age: 19
Gender: Female
Species: Human

Background

Kingdom of Origin: Nepharie
Parents: Mari Underfoot
Alanan Underfoot

Backstory: Vyri is a servant, or rather, was a servant. The National Academy of Sorcery is a huge institution, and like all huge institutions, has a great deal more below the surface than most are aware of. Dozens of forgotten corridors honeycomb the ancient buildings, forgotten except to the legions of servants, footmen, maids, cooks, deliverymen and other staff without whom the Academy would swiftly grind to a halt.

It is much the same in all of the institutions upon Creation, for every opulent feast there are a dozen cooks sweating over the ovens, for every alchemist’s accident there is a maid scrubbing the soot marks from the walls. They are the people who make the world go round, but they are never particularly important in the grand scheme of things, content simply to go home after a job well done. The world does not rest on their shoulders, and the fate of nations does not depend on their decision. It is, for the most part, a peaceful life.

It is about this time that Vyri is dearly wishing she had never wanted something more. The life of a servant in the Academy of Sorcery is simple. They are well looked after, with adequate servant quarters and pay that is to be expected, plus free access to any leftovers from Academy meals. The Underfoots, as the name suggests, have served at the Academy for as far back as the family can remember. Vyri’s father was a servant, his father was a servant, and his father before him. It was the same for her mother’s family.

Vyri didn’t want that, she wasn’t content, she wanted to leave, to adventure, to live the life her parent’s had never had an interest in. They told her it would just be a phase, to just stay for a little longer. There was not really anywhere for her to go anywhere, they were paid, but not enough that she could simply go adventuring.

It was stupid, how could she have been so stupid? That one decision that changed her life had to be the most foolish thing she had ever done.

The National Academy of Sorcery contains perhaps the premier collection of sorcerous artefacts in the world. Though each of them pales in comparison to Godbane they still represent power unmatched by an private collection. The most powerful artefacts are locked behind sealed portals, access available only to the most senior of the Academy’s mages and the Council themselves.

Other items are kept in various strong rooms, their magic faded or the purpose long since forgotten. Vyri stole one.

How she wishes she could put it back. It appears to be a simple ring made of iron, clearly of magical origin to those with the sense, but with no apparent power of its own. Such is often the case when things are not truly understood. Though the Academy has long forgotten the rings origin, the ring has not. It has lain undisturbed for centuries, even millennia, until finally it found someone to bear it.

Vyri took something that she though would not be missed. She only wanted a thrill, that sense of adventure she was denied within the walls of the Academy. Had she committed her act of rebellion a year earlier then perhaps she would have remained there. Things are changing in Tithe, the dead roam the land, and it has stirred other things that lie just beyond the veil.

The being that dwelt within the ring awoke when she placed it upon her finger, and Eleuril, ancient Sage of the Faefolk, a figure forgotten by history and legend, spoke into her mind.

Vyri is stuck with the ring. She cannot remove it from her finger, try as she might, and she cannot ignore the voice that speaks inside her head. That and it was only a matter of time before someone realised that the ring was missing. She stole what little money she could, and fled the Academy, heading north towards Talbor, following the hordes of the undead.

The ring has its own history. Once a great academic, Eleuril became obsessed with the thought that his knowledge and understanding would be lost and dedicated what remained of his years to prolonging his life indefinitely. The amount of God-blood that would have been required to accomplish such a task would have been impossible to acquire, even so long ago, so he sought other routes, and eventually fell into darker studies, exploring the tenuous link between the soul, the body, and magic. He came across a text, something old even in his time, but preserved far beyond its natural end by the sorcery of its author. It spoke of the soul, and the body, and how to manipulate and separate the two. These petty manipulations and pursuits of power held no interest for the Sage however, he wanted something far simpler, and perhaps far more costly. Though he succeeded in prolonging his life far beyond what it should have been he could still feel his strength seeping away, his life gradually ending. A slip, a misbalance of power, and he ripped his own soul from his body, binding it within the ring he used as a foci. When the Council realised what one of their most prized Sages had been doing they obliterated all record of him, and now only brief mention can be found of him in the footnotes of history, much to his chagrin.

Physical Appearance:

Height: 5'7
Weight: 90lbs
Appearance: Vyri is relatively tall for a servant, standing a slightly gangly 5’7. She has the sort of form that suggests she is wanting of a few square meals, but is rather a product of a hyperactive metabolism instead of a lack of food. She bears the typical complexion of those of Nepharie, swarthy, though only particularly dark when exposed to the sun for long periods of time. Her hair is dark, too frizzy, and usually pulled back into a ponytail for convenience.

Her eyes are large, green, and not unattractive, though often too expressive. She’s not a natural liar, and catching her off guard can often lead to her giving away the truth through her expression.

She was raised a servant, has lived as a servant, and, in her mind, will probably die a servant. She has that uncanny knack that servants acquire of simply fading into the foreground, being so much a part of the situation that they are almost unnoticeable. She walks hunched over, trying to make herself as small as possible, even more so in the time since she stole the ring, terrified of what might happen should someone discover what she hides beneath her gloves.
Attire: Solid and serviceable clothing is the order of the day for Vyri, with a long dress of cheap woollen cloth covered by an apron. She has acquired a cheap second hand cloak of heavy, faded wool and a pair of leather gloves that she rarely takes off in company.

Personality:

Personality: The spark of adventure is still alight in Vyri, she loves to visit new places and meet new people, and has an almost insatiable curiosity when it comes to either of those subjects, perhaps to the point of annoyance. With that spark of adventure comes a rebellious streak, and she has an embarrassing (for her parents) habit of answering back, with little patience for arrogance, especially in her ‘superiors’. Still, there is a part of her that regrets the road she has taken, and wishes that she could simply go home to her parents, to the life that was a lot simpler and a lot safer, without a sarcastic, grouch fairy in her head.

She doesn’t want fame, or recognition, and will happily pass the credit onto others if they want it. It helps that she has no desire to draw attention to herself, fearful that the Academy will find her and remove the ring by force, as every other technique she has tried has failed. Other than her habit of arguing with arrogant noble children she is mostly a kind and patient soul, though her patience is wearing thin now that her own head is not private. She has a tendency to irritability of late, though it is not her true nature.

She can be sarcastic, and has a rather sarcastic sense of humour, as well as a somewhat pessimistic outlook on life. Since taking the ring everything seems to have become a lot more complex and difficult, and she really sees no reason why it would possibly get any better.

Eleuril is equally as sarcastic, making them the perfect match. He is bad tempered though, and has none of her patience, especially for her and her unwillingness to allow him to use magic. He is cantankerous and ill-tempered, with little time for the foolish and even less time for those he considers beneath him, which fits just about everyone short of royalty. He does however, have some enjoyment of the debates of magic and magical theories with others of sufficient understanding. Unfortunately Vyri is not someone of sufficient understanding.
Hobbies: The life of a servant, even in the Academy of Sorcery is hardly filled with thrills, and having long since grown out of childish games she has instead acquired a taste for games of the mind, riddles and such.
Skills: Vyri was raised the daughter of a footman and a cook, and as such has acquired a number of skills from both. Though she would not be ready to serve food at a banquet, she knows her way around a cooking fire and can recognise and make use of natural herbs and seasonings. She also knows all she could ever need to know about maintaining cooking equipment, including sharpening knives, which could be extended to weaponry, though it is unlikely any warrior would let her near their sword.

She is also a gifted needlewoman, when clothing is supposed to last a long time you become accustomed to repairing tears and even adding simple embroidery. She could not match the skill of a professional tailor, but has an undeniable talent.

Abilities/Combat:
Abilities: As a servant, Vyri is comfortable blending into crowds, even in places she shouldn’t be, taking advantage of the fact that most of the higher classes wouldn’t even deign to notice her presence, let alone question it.

Eleuril however, is a very different matter. An ancient Sage, he remembers magic that has long since been forgotten, and is capable of wielding potent sorceries from eons past. Unfortunately, the fact that it is no longer his body means that his abilities are incredibly reduced from their great heights, and a Sage who once would have dwarfed even members of the Council is now brought down to what he considers a demeaning level.

When Vyri grants Eleuril permission to wield his powers then he effectively takes over control of her body, she can take it back, albeit it can take some effort. She also still retains some limited degree of control even after the fact, for example interfering with any spells or gestures he may make, throwing his aim or the predicted effect wildly off. It is possible that the two could come to something of a compromise, though neither is anywhere near such an event. His presence behind the spells becomes more or less apparent depending on the level of power they require. It can vary from simple incantations in which his control will simply cause her face to take on an expression of complete serenity, to mighty spells in which the presence of the Fae sage is tangible, even visible, a faint shadowy figure surrounding her, mimicking her movements.

The first element Eleuril mastered was that of air, long before he became a Sage, and it is still the element which comes to him easiest. It could be called instinctive, if it weren’t for instincts being long since forgotten along with his mortal remains. He is capable of a whole multitude of feats, from the simple task of an unexplained wind casting aside arrows, to more complex weavings that could pull the air from about a target, leaving them to gasp desperately at the vacuum that now surrounds them. He can shape the air about Vyri’s limbs, allowing her to move far more swiftly than she would otherwise be able to, and even achieve the same effect with allies should he wish, while hindering the motions of opponents. A simple application of basic meteorology also allows him to generate lightning bolts, hurling them like an angry god.

Though as a Sage he has an understanding and mastery of the other elements, and it is this that truly proves his greatest weapon. He was a learner first and foremost, someone who sought the deepest secrets of magic and wished to understand the workings of the world itself. As such he has a talent for understanding the spells of others, for deconstructing them and redirecting them. Though this can theoretically be applied to any spell, it isn’t much use if it is hurtling at Vyri at speed, greater workings, or enchantments however, will swiftly receive the scalpel like curiosity of his mind.
Weaponry: A handful of knives for preparing food, a frying pan, and a saucepan, in as much as they can be quantified as weapons. She also has a small sewing kit, and though thread is hardly lethal, the needles are wickedly sharp.
Weaknesses: Vyri is no warrior, she is a servant. Any fight with someone of actual skill will lead to her loss without a severe handicap to her opponent, and even then, she’d have to be lucky. Also, although the magical abilities Eleuril can wield through her would best most living sorcerer’s she has little fondness for them, disliking the sensation of being worn that comes with the ancient Sage’s will. He seems to require her permission in order to utilise magic, or at least has so far shown no ability to override her own free will, or no reason to.
Mount:

Other:

Thought I'd just drop my updated sheet here :)

Knights of Melarus

@Nosuchthing It's a good start, but I'd like to know more. You didn't describe Eleuril's abilities at all. Like, I have no idea what kind of magic he is capable of using. If you'd like, PM me and I can answer any questions that you have about what kind of magic he could use. I'd also like to see more of exactly how Eleuril projects his magic through Underfoot. Like, does he overshadow her, or is she in control? As he is a being with his own personality, maybe you should add a personality section for him. it doesn't have to be long at all. Just let me understand how this guy acts.

@Maxx

Off to work again I'm afraid, but I will PM you on my return :)

Knights of Melarus

Vyri Underfoot

Name: Vyri Underfoot
Age: 19
Gender: Female
Species: Human

Background

Kingdom of Origin: Nepharie
Parents: Mari Underfoot
Alanan Underfoot

Backstory: Vyri is a servant, or rather, was a servant. The National Academy of Sorcery is a huge institution, and like all huge institutions, has a great deal more below the surface than most are aware of. Dozens of forgotten corridors honeycomb the ancient buildings, forgotten except to the legions of servants, footmen, maids, cooks, deliverymen and other staff without whom the Academy would swiftly grind to a halt.

It is much the same in all of the institutions upon Creation, for every opulent feast there are a dozen cooks sweating over the ovens, for every alchemist’s accident there is a maid scrubbing the soot marks from the walls. They are the people who make the world go round, but they are never particularly important in the grand scheme of things, content simply to go home after a job well done. The world does not rest on their shoulders, and the fate of nations does not depend on their decision. It is, for the most part, a peaceful life.

It is about this time that Vyri is dearly wishing she had never wanted something more. The life of a servant in the Academy of Sorcery is simple. They are well looked after, with adequate servant quarters and pay that is to be expected, plus free access to any leftovers from Academy meals. The Underfoots, as the name suggests, have served at the Academy for as far back as the family can remember. Vyri’s father was a servant, his father was a servant, and his father before him. It was the same for her mother’s family.

Vyri didn’t want that, she wasn’t content, she wanted to leave, to adventure, to live the life her parent’s had never had an interest in. They told her it would just be a phase, to just stay for a little longer. There was not really anywhere for her to go anywhere, they were paid, but not enough that she could simply go adventuring.

It was stupid, how could she have been so stupid? That one decision that changed her life had to be the most foolish thing she had ever done.

The National Academy of Sorcery contains perhaps the premier collection of sorcerous artefacts in the world. Though each of them pales in comparison to Godbane they still represent power unmatched by an private collection. The most powerful artefacts are locked behind sealed portals, access available only to the most senior of the Academy’s mages and the Council themselves.

Other items are kept in various strong rooms, their magic faded or the purpose long since forgotten. Vyri stole one.

How she wishes she could put it back. It appears to be a simple ring made of iron, clearly of magical origin to those with the sense, but with no apparent power of its own. Such is often the case when things are not truly understood. Though the Academy has long forgotten the rings origin, the ring has not. It has lain undisturbed for centuries, even millennia, until finally it found someone to bear it.

Vyri took something that she though would not be missed. She only wanted a thrill, that sense of adventure she was denied within the walls of the Academy. Had she committed her act of rebellion a year earlier then perhaps she would have remained there. Things are changing in Tithe, the dead roam the land, and it has stirred other things that lie just beyond the veil.

The being that dwelt within the ring awoke when she placed it upon her finger, and Eleuril, ancient Sage of the Faefolk, a figure forgotten by history and legend, spoke into her mind.

Vyri is stuck with the ring. She cannot remove it from her finger, try as she might, and she cannot ignore the voice that speaks inside her head. That and it was only a matter of time before someone realised that the ring was missing. She stole what little money she could, and fled the Academy, heading north towards Talbor, following the hordes of the undead.

Physical Appearance:

Height: 5'7
Weight: 90lbs
Appearance: Vyri is relatively tall for a servant, standing a slightly gangly 5’7. She has the sort of form that suggests she is wanting of a few square meals, but is rather a product of a hyperactive metabolism instead of a lack of food. She bears the typical complexion of those of Nepharie, swarthy, though only particularly dark when exposed to the sun for long periods of time. Her hair is dark, too frizzy, and usually pulled back into a ponytail for convenience.

Her eyes are large, green, and not unattractive, though often too expressive. She’s not a natural liar, and catching her off guard can often lead to her giving away the truth through her expression.

She was raised a servant, has lived as a servant, and, in her mind, will probably die a servant. She has that uncanny knack that servants acquire of simply fading into the foreground, being so much a part of the situation that they are almost unnoticeable. She walks hunched over, trying to make herself as small as possible, even more so in the time since she stole the ring, terrified of what might happen should someone discover what she hides beneath her gloves.
Attire: Solid and serviceable clothing is the order of the day for Vyri, with a long dress of cheap woollen cloth covered by an apron. She has acquired a cheap second hand cloak of heavy, faded wool and a pair of leather gloves that she rarely takes off in company.

Personality:

Personality: The spark of adventure is still alight in Vyri, she loves to visit new places and meet new people, and has an almost insatiable curiosity when it comes to either of those subjects, perhaps to the point of annoyance. With that spark of adventure comes a rebellious streak, and she has an embarrassing (for her parents) habit of answering back, with little patience for arrogance, especially in her ‘superiors’. Still, there is a part of her that regrets the road she has taken, and wishes that she could simply go home to her parents, to the life that was a lot simpler and a lot safer, without a sarcastic, grouch fairy in her head.

She doesn’t want fame, or recognition, and will happily pass the credit onto others if they want it. It helps that she has no desire to draw attention to herself, fearful that the Academy will find her and remove the ring by force, as every other technique she has tried has failed. Other than her habit of arguing with arrogant noble children she is mostly a kind and patient soul, though her patience is wearing thin now that her own head is not private. She has a tendency to irritability of late, though it is not her true nature.

She can be sarcastic, and has a rather sarcastic sense of humour, as well as a somewhat pessimistic outlook on life. Since taking the ring everything seems to have become a lot more complex and difficult, and she really sees no reason why it would possibly get any better.
Hobbies: The life of a servant, even in the Academy of Sorcery is hardly filled with thrills, and having long since grown out of childish games she has instead acquired a taste for games of the mind, riddles and such.
Skills: Vyri was raised the daughter of a footman and a cook, and as such has acquired a number of skills from both. Though she would not be ready to serve food at a banquet, she knows her way around a cooking fire and can recognise and make use of natural herbs and seasonings. She also knows all she could ever need to know about maintaining cooking equipment, including sharpening knives, which could be extended to weaponry, though it is unlikely any warrior would let her near their sword.

She is also a gifted needlewoman, when clothing is supposed to last a long time you become accustomed to repairing tears and even adding simple embroidery. She could not match the skill of a professional tailor, but has an undeniable talent.

Abilities/Combat:
Abilities: As a servant, Vyri is comfortable blending into crowds, even in places she shouldn’t be, taking advantage of the fact that most of the higher classes wouldn’t even deign to notice her presence, let alone question it.

Eleuril however, is a very different matter. An ancient Sage, he remembers magic that has long since been forgotten, and is capable of wielding potent sorceries from eons past. Once a great academic, he became obsessed with the thought that his knowledge and understanding would be lost and dedicated what remained of his years to prolonging his life indefinitely. The amount of God-blood that would have been required to accomplish such a task would have been impossible to acquire, even so long ago, so he sought other routes, and eventually fell into darker studies, exploring the tenuous link between the soul, the body, and magic. The art of necromancy was still a fledgling branch of sorcery so long ago, and Eleuril remembers a magic that did not hold the negative connotations it does now. Unfortunately, the fact that it is no longer his body means that his abilities are incredibly reduced from their great heights, and a Sage who once would have dwarfed even members of the Council is now brought down to what he considers a demeaning level.
Weaponry: A handful of knives for preparing food, a frying pan, and a saucepan, in as much as they can be quantified as weapons. She also has a small sewing kit, and though thread is hardly lethal, the needles are wickedly sharp.
Weaknesses: Vyri is no warrior, she is a servant. Any fight with someone of actual skill will lead to her loss without a severe handicap to her opponent, and even then, she’d have to be lucky. Also, although the magical abilities Eleuril can wield through her would best most living sorcerer’s she has little fondness for them, disliking the sensation of being worn that comes with the ancient Sage’s will. He seems to require her permission in order to utilise magic, or at least has so far shown no ability to override her own free will, or no reason to.
Mount:

Other:

Ok, I need to sleep now as I have QTS tomorrow but until then, my CS :).

Knights of Melarus

Off to work for the day :(. Expect my sheet incoming tonight :)