Yes, fortunately. :]
God, it feels like I move to Alaska. o.0 There's more than three feet of it piled around my driveway. ~.~
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The sheer amount of people seated in Mr. Seil’s audience was anxiety inducing, which made its mark upon Calista as she eased her way through the crowd and into a seat. He eyes darted between the squirming mass of bodies all around her, which eventually started to coalesce into the provided pews and sundry chairs strewed around the stage. There were familiar faces amongst the sea of countenances, though each show of teeth held a deceptive sweet poison of wicked proportions. The hair on the back of the mage’s neck rose, her collar bones raising from her delicate shoulders in her tense mood. She saw Celleci approach from the writhing horde, and she watched the fallen angel’s approach with capturing eyes; a smile was there, though it held no particular warmth.
“Good morning, CeCi, I see the night has treated you well,” She returned the other’s greeting openly with an inclination of her head. Her eyes marked every movement of the other’s in her satchel, the glinting of tools catching her intention and she blew a heavy breath from her nose in an effort to calm the rising urge to force herself on the angel, to finally come about their final confrontation that lurked at the edges of every encounter. That was not for this day; Calista merely glutched down the chaotic impulse. She did, however, very much tense and tighten as the other made physical contact. It was miniscule at best, a mere accident perhaps. Though, as she immediately looked to the source, the look gracing the angel’s visage was one of intention. Calista grit her teeth, but kept her face neutral as the other spoke, harmonic tone signing through the witch’s ear.
“The turning of tides and rotating of pedestals is a prevalent force here, indeed,” She said in response, nodding to the apprehensive faces of those in the audience. Calista followed the angel’s gaze, letting her face fall out of her peripherals uneasily. She often tried to act non-judgemental around those she made frequent contact with, though she suspected their cursed souls suspected her dread. This angel, so different from others of her kind but sharing more than she possibly realized, was quite odd comparatively speaking. These thoughts were justified as weight was added to the illusionist’s slender frame, that of the head of the angel at her side.
Her pulse rose, and slight color came to her alabaster skin. The other’s mouth, so close to the thudding jugular hidden just behind meager skin, ghosted clouds of hot, moist breath across her flesh. She swallow again, looking down to the mischievous imp of an angel under fanning lashes, as honeyed words made their way to her ears once more. “It is… Indescribable to those who have not done so.” She started hesitantly, wondering just how deep the other’s reluctance to her own taint ran. “At first, it felt incriminating, and the water of my baths ran red with the blood of those I cursed to eternal perdition…” She trailed off for a moment, honestly remembering the feeling of horror at her own actions. But the feeling was replaced by the regular catharsis that guarded and reimbursed the mage persistently. “But as all types of pain, the guilt faded. My survival is just as important as those around me: I took comfort that my deeds were not baseless.”
Her gray eyes, set in large sockets particularly set to watch as many and much as she could, took in the image of the fallen with unabashed, unrelenting scrutiny. Her imagination, so colorful and wandering, rooted a pulsating terror of deception and lead to terrible fantasies of death. Slender, tanned fingers, reaching inside of folded cloth for a hidden dagger, drawing it and slicing unerringly at the throat at hand. Pointed, insidious teeth coated in tasteless poison, breaching fragile skin to sink deep into undulating veins. Tight, gripping hands around her neck, cutting off vital air and sending her into a sputtering coughing fit.Too many variables to limit the possibilities. “As for the effects on the victim,” She used the word freely, caring not for the accusation toward herself, “If I were to answer, my words would be lies. I know not what fate befalls them.” The physical contact continued, at first to her dismay, but after a moment she decided that it’d be best this way: any attempt against her would be noticed. The angel fell silent after a statement of personal damnation, and Calista felt it fitting for the angel to finally come around.
As the Wish Master made his appearance, to the quieting and stilling of the crowd, Calista perked, features forsaken of her usual fleeting attention and diverted directly at the single entity. A dire feeling, comprising of fear, suspicion, and grim determination to succeed past those already taken, settled on her taut shoulders. Her breath caught, hands shook, and she swallowed as a few beads of sweat made their way lazily down the back of her neck. She strained to hear every world, especially those of the questions that spilled from her comrades’ lips. CeCi eventually retreated from her throbbing skin, and she leaned forward, enraptured by the serious implications of the Ringmaster’s words.
She settled back in her seat as the public conversation turned comical, nausea roiling her stomach into a fit. She placed a hand on her abdomen and worked to quiet her breathing. The introduction of a third party in her lurid delusions did not bode well for the skittish witch. It was unexpected, unnerving, and certainly unwanted. Her eyes flickered around her, to the shocked and frightened faces that were just moments ago alit with carefree pleasantries, and felt an acidic feeling of betrayal in their lying eyes. Her thoughts burned in her skull, reverberating and clashing in a paranoid frenzy as the Witch recalled every recent interaction she could, scanning her memory for any hint of subversion or suspicion. The list was too grand, and too detailed for her to comb through without error, and the thought of letting something slip by frightened her to her core. For all her preparedness, for all her precautions, something, or someone, slipped through the infinitesimal cracks in her perpetual surveillance.
“Good morning, CeCi, I see the night has treated you well,” She returned the other’s greeting openly with an inclination of her head. Her eyes marked every movement of the other’s in her satchel, the glinting of tools catching her intention and she blew a heavy breath from her nose in an effort to calm the rising urge to force herself on the angel, to finally come about their final confrontation that lurked at the edges of every encounter. That was not for this day; Calista merely glutched down the chaotic impulse. She did, however, very much tense and tighten as the other made physical contact. It was miniscule at best, a mere accident perhaps. Though, as she immediately looked to the source, the look gracing the angel’s visage was one of intention. Calista grit her teeth, but kept her face neutral as the other spoke, harmonic tone signing through the witch’s ear.
“The turning of tides and rotating of pedestals is a prevalent force here, indeed,” She said in response, nodding to the apprehensive faces of those in the audience. Calista followed the angel’s gaze, letting her face fall out of her peripherals uneasily. She often tried to act non-judgemental around those she made frequent contact with, though she suspected their cursed souls suspected her dread. This angel, so different from others of her kind but sharing more than she possibly realized, was quite odd comparatively speaking. These thoughts were justified as weight was added to the illusionist’s slender frame, that of the head of the angel at her side.
Her pulse rose, and slight color came to her alabaster skin. The other’s mouth, so close to the thudding jugular hidden just behind meager skin, ghosted clouds of hot, moist breath across her flesh. She swallow again, looking down to the mischievous imp of an angel under fanning lashes, as honeyed words made their way to her ears once more. “It is… Indescribable to those who have not done so.” She started hesitantly, wondering just how deep the other’s reluctance to her own taint ran. “At first, it felt incriminating, and the water of my baths ran red with the blood of those I cursed to eternal perdition…” She trailed off for a moment, honestly remembering the feeling of horror at her own actions. But the feeling was replaced by the regular catharsis that guarded and reimbursed the mage persistently. “But as all types of pain, the guilt faded. My survival is just as important as those around me: I took comfort that my deeds were not baseless.”
Her gray eyes, set in large sockets particularly set to watch as many and much as she could, took in the image of the fallen with unabashed, unrelenting scrutiny. Her imagination, so colorful and wandering, rooted a pulsating terror of deception and lead to terrible fantasies of death. Slender, tanned fingers, reaching inside of folded cloth for a hidden dagger, drawing it and slicing unerringly at the throat at hand. Pointed, insidious teeth coated in tasteless poison, breaching fragile skin to sink deep into undulating veins. Tight, gripping hands around her neck, cutting off vital air and sending her into a sputtering coughing fit.Too many variables to limit the possibilities. “As for the effects on the victim,” She used the word freely, caring not for the accusation toward herself, “If I were to answer, my words would be lies. I know not what fate befalls them.” The physical contact continued, at first to her dismay, but after a moment she decided that it’d be best this way: any attempt against her would be noticed. The angel fell silent after a statement of personal damnation, and Calista felt it fitting for the angel to finally come around.
As the Wish Master made his appearance, to the quieting and stilling of the crowd, Calista perked, features forsaken of her usual fleeting attention and diverted directly at the single entity. A dire feeling, comprising of fear, suspicion, and grim determination to succeed past those already taken, settled on her taut shoulders. Her breath caught, hands shook, and she swallowed as a few beads of sweat made their way lazily down the back of her neck. She strained to hear every world, especially those of the questions that spilled from her comrades’ lips. CeCi eventually retreated from her throbbing skin, and she leaned forward, enraptured by the serious implications of the Ringmaster’s words.
She settled back in her seat as the public conversation turned comical, nausea roiling her stomach into a fit. She placed a hand on her abdomen and worked to quiet her breathing. The introduction of a third party in her lurid delusions did not bode well for the skittish witch. It was unexpected, unnerving, and certainly unwanted. Her eyes flickered around her, to the shocked and frightened faces that were just moments ago alit with carefree pleasantries, and felt an acidic feeling of betrayal in their lying eyes. Her thoughts burned in her skull, reverberating and clashing in a paranoid frenzy as the Witch recalled every recent interaction she could, scanning her memory for any hint of subversion or suspicion. The list was too grand, and too detailed for her to comb through without error, and the thought of letting something slip by frightened her to her core. For all her preparedness, for all her precautions, something, or someone, slipped through the infinitesimal cracks in her perpetual surveillance.
waitwaitwait
Im actually almost done with my post! :D
I shoveled so much yesterday that I died as soon as i went to bed, so when i woke up i was very refreshed~
Im actually almost done with my post! :D
I shoveled so much yesterday that I died as soon as i went to bed, so when i woke up i was very refreshed~
ohmigod...
So. Much. Snow. =.=
I wont have a post up today. :x
So. Much. Snow. =.=
I wont have a post up today. :x
I wouldn't say the octopus is molesting him. It's just... on him, I guess? Yeah, that sounds about right,
In
Chasing Away Shadows - near future military sci-fi RP (Metal Gear inspired)
→
11 yrs ago
Forum: Casual Roleplay
...I'd just like to say that my knowledge of actually military tactics/terms/professions/ect. is kinda limited. :x I hope that doesn’t mean Im in the wrong place. I mean, im not ignorant of it, i just need to google most of your acronyms. xD
So yeah, if you read something and are just like ‘bitch has no idea what shes doing,’ just let me know.
Name: Celeste 'Doc' Ruthold
Age: 28
Appearance:
Personality:
Celeste is a caring woman, which probably fueled her desire to study medicine. She is often a carefree, warm person, who always has an ear open to the stresses and hardships of life in the military. She is not judgmental, and views life with eyes wide open, accepting and congenial to all she encounters - except enemies. She is not weak, or innocent, and should not be expected or treated as such. The one thing that can get on her nerves is the denial of her ability or experience, but rarely will she get angry. She just does her best to prove the accusation wrong. However, there are instances where she is inexperienced, especially those dealing with politics. Her experience is quite... specific, and although she likes to think she is prepared for this life, she is not afraid of asking for help or advice. At times, she can be seen staring off into the distant at painful memories, and though she’ll talk of them freely, she dislikes to dwell on them. She has mourned her losses already - the past should stay in the past.
History:
Celeste was born to a lower class family in rural America, and has had financial troubles since her youth. Her family was close, just the three of them against a harsh and unforgiving world, but they found solace in each other. She was very much loved, and happy, despite the occasional rumbling belly. Her childhood and adolescence passed without serious marring.
When she was a young woman, Celeste found her purpose in helping others, and her analytical mind called for a daring profession. She had always wanted to study medicine, and at this time her dream was to become a trauma doctor, to see all of the ways people managed to harm themselves and bring them back from the brink of life. Her parents, although frightful of their ability to send her, encouraged her to follow that path and go to medical school. But Celeste, ever considerate, knew her parents couldn't afford it. Her only option, as she saw it, was to go into the military; specifically, the air force.
Although not particularly set for such a profession, Celeste eventually fell into the position with an unexpected grace. She served two tours in Afghanistan without any specific incident, although the missions were not specifically difficult or clandestine. It wasn’t until she was stationed in Egypt that she gained renown.
Deployed to a health center along the border for Egyptian soldiers while the civil war was at its height, Celeste was met daily with gruesome injuries and mangled bodies from the relentless and ruthless tactics employed in the area. The clinic (it was actually a base, but the only notable part about it was the clinic), due in small part to Celeste’s notable skill and steady hands, grew exponentially, becoming a beacon to the friendly forces in the area. It grew in popularity as well, which was eventually its downfall. Hearing of the respite, enemy forces took the clinic under siege. Most of the workers, including maintenance personnel, nurses, doctors, physicians, psychiatrists, and combat medics within its wall were either savagely beaten to death, or kept under siege in the clinic. Due to its location, un-strategically placed far from major civilization, the clinic was kept under enemy control for 18 months. During this time, the employees and volunteers stuck there were forced to treat the soldiers in all ways, and were often beaten, raped, or starved to reinforce submission.
By the tenth month of subversion, most of the original workers were dead or worse. Celeste managed to stay in their good graces with her skill alone (though they used her for many things). Celeste became the leader of the remaining civilians, but only because by that time she was the only person with such experience left. She managed to care for the remaining 17 survivors with the miniscule provisions the hostages were provided. It wasn’t until the territorial lines were changes and pushed that friendly forces finally took back the base, only managing to be successful because of an organized riot within its walls. Celeste was not awarded much past a flight home, and the only things that stuck with her was the reputation she gained amongst enemy lines: that of a resourceful savior, bringing men back from the edge of death with the most infinitesimal resources.
She spent much time out of active service after that, living on different bases and moving around the country, unable to settle or bring herself to go back into the fight. But the call of the front lines were strong, and Celeste was offered a place in the Blaze Unit after expressing desire to return to combat for the fact that she can keep men alive in just about any situation.
Special Talents or Skills: Celeste has an impressive knowledge for the workings of the human body, and has a knack for caring for such with little more than her hands and some gauze. She has been seen performing minor surgery on the battlefield if the life of a soldier hangs in the balance, and can tie a tourniquet faster than any other medic she has encountered. Her knowledge does extend to herbal and holistic medicine, but she prefers to work with western advances. She can shoot well, but not exceptionally so, and holds little knowledge in mechanics, engineering, and culture, but she is not ignorant.
Personal Weapons & Equipment:
Other than weapons, the most prevalent thing on Celeste’s person is her medical kit. It holds just about all one could think of for combat medical attention, including but not limited to the following list.
Materials:
Gauze of varying sizes, medical tape, syringes, hemostats, forceps, scalpels, scissors, cotton balls and sponges, catheters, an inhaler, cold and hot packs, stents and ace bandages(both wide and narrow), tweezers, thermometer, safety pins, latex gloves, moleskin
Medicines:
Penicillin and other antibiotic ointments, smelling salts, anti-itch creams, iodine solutions and hydrogen peroxide, antihistamines, decongestants and expectorants, painkillers (nsaids mostly, but also small amounts of opiates), burn cream, and mild sedatives, sodium bicarbonate and other digestive soothers
And she carries a multi-tool.
Personal Theme: Erm… Hold on I'll find one
So yeah, if you read something and are just like ‘bitch has no idea what shes doing,’ just let me know.
Name: Celeste 'Doc' Ruthold
Age: 28
Appearance:
Personality:
Celeste is a caring woman, which probably fueled her desire to study medicine. She is often a carefree, warm person, who always has an ear open to the stresses and hardships of life in the military. She is not judgmental, and views life with eyes wide open, accepting and congenial to all she encounters - except enemies. She is not weak, or innocent, and should not be expected or treated as such. The one thing that can get on her nerves is the denial of her ability or experience, but rarely will she get angry. She just does her best to prove the accusation wrong. However, there are instances where she is inexperienced, especially those dealing with politics. Her experience is quite... specific, and although she likes to think she is prepared for this life, she is not afraid of asking for help or advice. At times, she can be seen staring off into the distant at painful memories, and though she’ll talk of them freely, she dislikes to dwell on them. She has mourned her losses already - the past should stay in the past.
History:
Celeste was born to a lower class family in rural America, and has had financial troubles since her youth. Her family was close, just the three of them against a harsh and unforgiving world, but they found solace in each other. She was very much loved, and happy, despite the occasional rumbling belly. Her childhood and adolescence passed without serious marring.
When she was a young woman, Celeste found her purpose in helping others, and her analytical mind called for a daring profession. She had always wanted to study medicine, and at this time her dream was to become a trauma doctor, to see all of the ways people managed to harm themselves and bring them back from the brink of life. Her parents, although frightful of their ability to send her, encouraged her to follow that path and go to medical school. But Celeste, ever considerate, knew her parents couldn't afford it. Her only option, as she saw it, was to go into the military; specifically, the air force.
Although not particularly set for such a profession, Celeste eventually fell into the position with an unexpected grace. She served two tours in Afghanistan without any specific incident, although the missions were not specifically difficult or clandestine. It wasn’t until she was stationed in Egypt that she gained renown.
Deployed to a health center along the border for Egyptian soldiers while the civil war was at its height, Celeste was met daily with gruesome injuries and mangled bodies from the relentless and ruthless tactics employed in the area. The clinic (it was actually a base, but the only notable part about it was the clinic), due in small part to Celeste’s notable skill and steady hands, grew exponentially, becoming a beacon to the friendly forces in the area. It grew in popularity as well, which was eventually its downfall. Hearing of the respite, enemy forces took the clinic under siege. Most of the workers, including maintenance personnel, nurses, doctors, physicians, psychiatrists, and combat medics within its wall were either savagely beaten to death, or kept under siege in the clinic. Due to its location, un-strategically placed far from major civilization, the clinic was kept under enemy control for 18 months. During this time, the employees and volunteers stuck there were forced to treat the soldiers in all ways, and were often beaten, raped, or starved to reinforce submission.
By the tenth month of subversion, most of the original workers were dead or worse. Celeste managed to stay in their good graces with her skill alone (though they used her for many things). Celeste became the leader of the remaining civilians, but only because by that time she was the only person with such experience left. She managed to care for the remaining 17 survivors with the miniscule provisions the hostages were provided. It wasn’t until the territorial lines were changes and pushed that friendly forces finally took back the base, only managing to be successful because of an organized riot within its walls. Celeste was not awarded much past a flight home, and the only things that stuck with her was the reputation she gained amongst enemy lines: that of a resourceful savior, bringing men back from the edge of death with the most infinitesimal resources.
She spent much time out of active service after that, living on different bases and moving around the country, unable to settle or bring herself to go back into the fight. But the call of the front lines were strong, and Celeste was offered a place in the Blaze Unit after expressing desire to return to combat for the fact that she can keep men alive in just about any situation.
Special Talents or Skills: Celeste has an impressive knowledge for the workings of the human body, and has a knack for caring for such with little more than her hands and some gauze. She has been seen performing minor surgery on the battlefield if the life of a soldier hangs in the balance, and can tie a tourniquet faster than any other medic she has encountered. Her knowledge does extend to herbal and holistic medicine, but she prefers to work with western advances. She can shoot well, but not exceptionally so, and holds little knowledge in mechanics, engineering, and culture, but she is not ignorant.
Personal Weapons & Equipment:
Other than weapons, the most prevalent thing on Celeste’s person is her medical kit. It holds just about all one could think of for combat medical attention, including but not limited to the following list.
Materials:
Gauze of varying sizes, medical tape, syringes, hemostats, forceps, scalpels, scissors, cotton balls and sponges, catheters, an inhaler, cold and hot packs, stents and ace bandages(both wide and narrow), tweezers, thermometer, safety pins, latex gloves, moleskin
Medicines:
Penicillin and other antibiotic ointments, smelling salts, anti-itch creams, iodine solutions and hydrogen peroxide, antihistamines, decongestants and expectorants, painkillers (nsaids mostly, but also small amounts of opiates), burn cream, and mild sedatives, sodium bicarbonate and other digestive soothers
And she carries a multi-tool.
Personal Theme: Erm… Hold on I'll find one
So much action. o.0
And you people have some cool characters. :p
And you people have some cool characters. :p
>.> This place is busy.
Imma try and get a post up today, but my area is being destroyed by snow, so I might lose power/have to shovel/slip on ice. Hopefully not, but I will post by tomorrow at latest..
Imma try and get a post up today, but my area is being destroyed by snow, so I might lose power/have to shovel/slip on ice. Hopefully not, but I will post by tomorrow at latest..
Finally finished my CS
Name:
Seralis Mirlay
Gender:
Male
Age:
36
Race:
Kuzal Elf
Appearance:
Gear & Possessions:
Other than his leather armor and ironoak bow(for which he can craft arrows), Seralis carries little in the manner of personal effects. He carries traveling equipment with him, or course, but other than that he holds no possession worthy of mention.
Skills & Abilities:
First and foremost, Seralis is a formidable archer. He has been using a bow seen he had been old enough to hunt, and his years of practical experience are apparent in his well toned arms and steady aim. Used to traversing twisted tree limbs and scattered rocks, sinking bogs and entangling vines, Seralis can navigate close to any environ with relative ease, and has come to have an imposing acrobatics skill set. He is also a proficient alchemist and herbalist, as he hails from one of the most prosperous sources of such ingredients around. He also has an easy time taming, riding and communicating with animals, especially those of bestial proportions.
Personality:
Seralis is a personable man, with pleasing colloquy and a congenial attitude, although he does at times appear reserved. It is not hesitation that stills his tongue, but the fact that he finds some humans quite strange here in the North. He likes to laugh, and believes life is to be enjoyed. He is morally upright, but not to the point of preaching. He is kindhearted and good-natured, and often puts others before himself. He'll help those in need without payment, or an expectation of reward. It is important to note that he has integrity, not callowness.
History:
Seralis was raised among his reclusive kin in the Southern Kazul Jungle. Here, the bogs would freeze in the night, and leave the elves in a dreadfully cold, inhospitable mire of muck and creeping flora. The clan made temporary homes in mangrove orchards, moving with the seasons to stay alive. He was conditioned since youth to survive in unfavorable conditions. The clan was small, but its size was in part due to the difficulty to provide for large groups of people in this environment. There were others his age, luckily for him, companions in a harsh world of baying beasts and perpetual fog. They were all driven hard by necessity; Seralis was carrying a bow when it was larger than he was.
When he was just 14, Seralis's tribe discovered upon an Alderian settlement while traveling through unfamiliar coast land. The humans seemed surprised, because often the elves ignored their presence. Their settlement was small, but had a port for the transport of harvested goods. At first, the two did not interact past passing glances on the edge of the forest. However, that winter was particularly harsh. He doesn't remember exactly how it started, whether it be from a gift or service exchange, but the elves and the humans were unexpectedly brought together by that winter. In the following warmer months, the settlement and the tribe reached an understand. The elves could bring them rare and expensive herbs, flowers, and other natural resources, while the elves benefited from the human's agriculture and farming. Seralis didn't spend much time with humans until he was older - around 20 years old.
When he came of age, Seralis was able to mingle amongst the humans freely. There weren't many people in the settlement, but he was fascinated by the variety between them. Seralis could speak to ten humans, and get ten completely different perspectives. He spent much time with the humans, even staying with them when his tribe left for short periods of time. Seralis grew fond of the shorter lived race, and had decided to stay as an ambassador of sorts, because their cultivation of the surrounding grounds sometimes came with the vexation of elves that wandered near. He was happy to help, and be a bridge between to two peoples.
The more time he spent in that settlement, the more Seralis was enamored by the ships sailing away on rolling waves and churning winds; the dock was his favorite place to visit. Eventually, his wanderlust took hold, and he sailed away on one of those ships, looking forward to adventuring in human lands. He became fast friends with the crew, and actually stayed with the cargo ship as a guard (as well as a deckhand - he thoroughly enjoyed doing such). The traveled from Alderia to Avignon, which he found unsavory with a pompous air of superiority, and then north the Vekia, where he departed from the ship with promises to return in later years. Seralis has been in Vekia for a little more than three years, and has enjoyed every second of it, for it is rife with human diversity.
Seralis Mirlay
Gender:
Male
Age:
36
Race:
Kuzal Elf
Appearance:
Gear & Possessions:
Other than his leather armor and ironoak bow(for which he can craft arrows), Seralis carries little in the manner of personal effects. He carries traveling equipment with him, or course, but other than that he holds no possession worthy of mention.
Skills & Abilities:
First and foremost, Seralis is a formidable archer. He has been using a bow seen he had been old enough to hunt, and his years of practical experience are apparent in his well toned arms and steady aim. Used to traversing twisted tree limbs and scattered rocks, sinking bogs and entangling vines, Seralis can navigate close to any environ with relative ease, and has come to have an imposing acrobatics skill set. He is also a proficient alchemist and herbalist, as he hails from one of the most prosperous sources of such ingredients around. He also has an easy time taming, riding and communicating with animals, especially those of bestial proportions.
Personality:
Seralis is a personable man, with pleasing colloquy and a congenial attitude, although he does at times appear reserved. It is not hesitation that stills his tongue, but the fact that he finds some humans quite strange here in the North. He likes to laugh, and believes life is to be enjoyed. He is morally upright, but not to the point of preaching. He is kindhearted and good-natured, and often puts others before himself. He'll help those in need without payment, or an expectation of reward. It is important to note that he has integrity, not callowness.
History:
Seralis was raised among his reclusive kin in the Southern Kazul Jungle. Here, the bogs would freeze in the night, and leave the elves in a dreadfully cold, inhospitable mire of muck and creeping flora. The clan made temporary homes in mangrove orchards, moving with the seasons to stay alive. He was conditioned since youth to survive in unfavorable conditions. The clan was small, but its size was in part due to the difficulty to provide for large groups of people in this environment. There were others his age, luckily for him, companions in a harsh world of baying beasts and perpetual fog. They were all driven hard by necessity; Seralis was carrying a bow when it was larger than he was.
When he was just 14, Seralis's tribe discovered upon an Alderian settlement while traveling through unfamiliar coast land. The humans seemed surprised, because often the elves ignored their presence. Their settlement was small, but had a port for the transport of harvested goods. At first, the two did not interact past passing glances on the edge of the forest. However, that winter was particularly harsh. He doesn't remember exactly how it started, whether it be from a gift or service exchange, but the elves and the humans were unexpectedly brought together by that winter. In the following warmer months, the settlement and the tribe reached an understand. The elves could bring them rare and expensive herbs, flowers, and other natural resources, while the elves benefited from the human's agriculture and farming. Seralis didn't spend much time with humans until he was older - around 20 years old.
When he came of age, Seralis was able to mingle amongst the humans freely. There weren't many people in the settlement, but he was fascinated by the variety between them. Seralis could speak to ten humans, and get ten completely different perspectives. He spent much time with the humans, even staying with them when his tribe left for short periods of time. Seralis grew fond of the shorter lived race, and had decided to stay as an ambassador of sorts, because their cultivation of the surrounding grounds sometimes came with the vexation of elves that wandered near. He was happy to help, and be a bridge between to two peoples.
The more time he spent in that settlement, the more Seralis was enamored by the ships sailing away on rolling waves and churning winds; the dock was his favorite place to visit. Eventually, his wanderlust took hold, and he sailed away on one of those ships, looking forward to adventuring in human lands. He became fast friends with the crew, and actually stayed with the cargo ship as a guard (as well as a deckhand - he thoroughly enjoyed doing such). The traveled from Alderia to Avignon, which he found unsavory with a pompous air of superiority, and then north the Vekia, where he departed from the ship with promises to return in later years. Seralis has been in Vekia for a little more than three years, and has enjoyed every second of it, for it is rife with human diversity.
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