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Tales of Alethrion

Maybe interested, if I think of something.

Edit: Here we are.

Name: Arusi Ekene Ayo

Age: 25

Race: Prith

Gender: Female

Appearance:

Other than her large, black, beetle head, like most prith have, Arusi is rather plain. Neither too fat, skinny, tall, or short. She's exceedingly average, taking after her father, especially when compared to the ethereal beauties that are her mother and sisters.

Arusi wears a simple white linen dress that falls to her mid-calf and a dark red cowl. For shoes a simple pair of work sandals have always sufficed. The only extravagant parts of her ensemble are the jeweled bracelets and necklaces she wears. Glittering in the sun with all manner of metals and stones, Arusi has a weak spot for jewelry in any form.

Backstory: Arusi's family hails from a village close to the cursed sands of Kahltofal. There they would have remained if not for her father and how he "borrowed" the Caliph's favorite horse. Their flight took them to Fireside, where they settled in. That was two years ago.

Now Arusi works as a potter, much like she did before. Unfortunately all her funds are being siphoned away by the expensive habits of her mother and sisters or to bail her father out of jail once again. Maybe her father will clean up his act and maybe her sisters can finally find someone else to provide for them, but frankly Arusi isn't going to hold her breath. No, she's just about ready to give up on all of them.

Aspirations or Desires: To do something worthwhile with her family name.

Skills prior to adventuring: Arusi is a potter and has been for as long as she can remember.

Personality: Arusi is a real Type A personality and planner. Everything has an end-goal and contributes to the whole. Frustrations don't cause her to despair, they cause her to rage. She's also fairly loyal and bull-headed (that was a terrible joke and I apologize), causing her to put up with the ridiculousness of those she cares about for far longer than is probably healthy. Last, but not least, she tends to slip into the Kahl language when he gets excited or flustered.

Protea - The Ebon Flow

<Snipped quote by Lord Santa>

That's why I just stick to what little I know of old English, Victorian, medieval times. Even though none of those time periods are anywhere near the 1920s.

@harinezumikouken

It's not too hard to work with. Just look at the 1920s on wikipedia. Television became a thing in that decade. Movies started to to be produced with sound. Automobiles are really replacing the horse. People are flying now. Technology is everywhere and people want more of it for status and convenience. The world urban world started to look a lot more like today instead of Victorian or earlier.

Protea - The Ebon Flow

Underneath the the reply section at the bottom of the page is a formatting cheatsheet. It's in there as "hider."

Protea - The Ebon Flow

Ebon Flow. Nice Lug. ;)

Protea - The Ebon Flow

Mr. Ghurst

Name: Rhastulah Ghurst or preferably Mr. Ghurst
Sex: Male
Age: 32
Race: Parili
Affinity: Sensus

Personality: Ghurst is a driven individual, almost bordering on the obsessive. When something catches his interest, he'll usually pursue it to the exclusion of almost all else. It's this mentality that caused him to leave the Arcadian Commune. The people there had no spirit. They lacked desires and he was worried that he might follow the same path if he stayed. This also means he tends to be fairly critical of the lazy.

Despite this aloof attitude, Ghurst can be very personable when he chooses to be. He has close friends in the NC, AO, and PC. He stands by his word and stands by the people he gives it to.

Greatest Love: To challenge the unknown and return with it's secrets.

Motivation: Ghurst hopes that the cure can be found in the knowledge of the past. There have been hints of a thing called the "Panacea" that once existed to cure what magic could not. He is determined to find it.

Fighting Style: Ghurst is fond of his Zelmein rollvolver, a sturdy thing of dwarven make, that he uses to great effect on those that would meet him with violence. Carrying only eighteen bullets altogether, it's a weapon of defense to aid in a quick get away or to stop a fight before it starts. Without the gun, Ghurst is a capable brawler, using whatever he can lay his hands on as a weapon. With how dangerous some of his jobs have been getting, Ghurst is beginning to wonder if he should take to something more permanent like a cudgel or a knife.

Bio: Growing up in the Arcadian Commune, Rhastulah benefited greatly educational resources provided by the country. Fiercly intelligent, a trait mostly owed to his academic parents, as a teen Rhastulah grew bored with common topics and instead was drawn to more... eclectic knowledge. Lest their son become a member of the Coven, or something equally as barbarous, his parents sought to fill their son's free time with arts or sports. This only drove Rhastulah to continue his studies in secret.

After graduating with honors in history, archaeology, and chemistry Rhastulah left his homeland and began a career as an investigator of the occult and the strange. In short time he became a private consultant to Fogi's executives, known for sussing out secrets. Recently though, Rhastulah's thoughts have been turning towards the Commune again. His father, it seems, has developed disparitis. A degenerative disease with no known cure, it slowly forces anyone, even humans, who shares parili blood to degenerate into disparis. Though the disease only runs along familial lines, that's small comfort to Rhastulah. For now, all he can do is try to find some means to a cure for his father and himself.

Appearance:

Other than the deer antlers sprouting from his forehead, there is nothing particularly outstanding about Ghurst. He keeps his brown hair neatly combed back to keep it out of his hazel eyes. From the passive expression on his face to the plain clothes he wears, in all ways he locks like a common member of the Republic of Fogi. It is an image Rhastulah fosters. The only thing that might have been a bit much is his handlebar mustache.

Typically, unless he needs something more formal or rugged, Ghurst wears a coal gray, tweed suit with a black waistcoat, and a white shirt underneath. A dark blue tie with matching suede gloves add a bit of color without being too brash. A pair of brown toe cap boots and a matching wool overcoat complete the look.

Eresa Aedon

Name: Eresa Aedon
Sex: Female
Age: 246
Race: Golem
Affinity: Metallum, specifically bronze.

Personality: Eresa fosters the appearance of a bored dilettante. She collects as much art, clothing, and people as her savings can afford, but holding very little affection for any of it beyond its price for resale. No, what truly captures her heart and soul is power. She had all the power she could want, once. If she could have it again, and hold on to it better this time, then perhaps she could fill the void in her purposeless life.

Greatest Love: Herself.

Motivator: To regain the power and influence she once possessed.

Fighting Style: As a being made of bronze and a Spirit of the same, Eresa has unparalleled control over her body's structure and the metals which comprise the alloy (copper, tin, etc.). She can form her hands into blades or other tools, increase her size, or even mend damage. For these benefits, there are also some serious deficits. Bronze is a soft alloy, bending and shearing far easier than steel, and the mending process takes quite a lot if time as Eresa has to concentrate to remake her fine components.

To be honest, if Eresa found herself in combat she'd most likely be chiding herself for being stupid. She would much rather hire some thugs, poison, or throw money at a problem until it goes away. Despite her prowess if it came to combat, Eresa is not a combatant.

Bio: 246 years ago Mother Eresa Aedon, Lux Matron of the Coven and holder of the 5th Mystery, died on a pyre. For 43 years previous she had clawed her way up the ranks of her order and tore down her rivals. The title of Arch-matron was within her grasp. But she'd grown complacent. Betrayed by a rival, she was one of the first flames that would set the whole of the Old Coven alight. But the fire didn't truly end her. She was saved.

Salvation pushed her soul into a worker of Monolith. There she toiled, bitter for it, but without the knowledge of why. In time she managed to find others like her, dissatisfied with their lot in life with the vague feeling that something had been wrongfully stolen. These disparate workers formed the Autonomous League, pooling their skills to find a way to slip the shackles of Providence's Blessings. From their labor the Converter was born.

Able to siphon Blessings away from their intended recipients, the converter stored the mystical energy for later use, to be shared by the League. The next, logical step was to see if they could concentrate the power of the Blessings enough to create a Traveler. Eresa was their first volunteer. The refinement and gathering processes were painstaking, but finally they were certain they could mimic the intensity of Providence for just a few seconds. They theorized that exposure to that much untamed energy would be enough to jump-start the Traveler metamorphosis. They were right, to a point.

When it was over Eresa felt like herself again. Her affinity for Lux had been wiped out by the transformation, but the loss paled before the return of her memories and the sense of being complete. After regaining her senses, she informed her fellows that they had succeeded. She then proceeded to kill them all using the Converter, destroyed it, and stole its design notes. She knew that somehow Monolith's god had sensed her apotheosis. The Spinnermen, workers who had given their minds and bodies to Providence to become temple guardians, were on their way. She made a harrowing escape from the city, Spinnermen tracking her the whole way until their Blessings failed them.

With her freedom assured, so long as he never returned, Eresa began to explore her new world. She raided her old boltholes for funds and sold the stockpiled charms and scrolls that she could no longer use. With the bureaucracy of the New Coven earning her bitter disdain, Eresa decided to enjoy her new lease on life. She earned it.

Appearance:


Eresa's "skin" is a dull bronze that, if looked at from afar, would almost pass for human. The mistake ends there as one would notice her eyes were the same color as the skin, almost like they and the rest of her face were sculpted as a formality from one piece of bronze. Her hair is much the same as its polished form doesn't actually hang free, but is another molded part of her head.

Eresa's taste for the finer things extends to her wardrobe. The latest fashions from across Protea usually find their way onto her 7' frame. By far her favorite is a glossy black gown that hugs her form without being inappropriately snug. A long drape off her right shoulder and a bronze sash around her hips completes the look.

The War Over Driahn Peaks (High Fantasy)

K, figured it was best to ask before just charging ahead.

The War Over Driahn Peaks (High Fantasy)

I can't remember if this has been asked yet, but do we have a posting order?

Protea - No Ordinary Interest Check - Help me!

That should take care of the glaring errors. Eresa will share the rimary character spot with Ghurst. I do it so if the story gets bogged down in one place, I have another character free to work with until a log-jam sorts itself. I'm fine with setting her up as a person of importance in Ebb. Scheming is, after all, her true element.

Protea - No Ordinary Interest Check - Help me!

Here's the second. Lots of sources of inspiration on this one. Statues, dress guides, wikipedia... But I think I have something workable and might edit some stuff later once I get a chance to take another look.



Name: Eresa Aedon
Sex: Female
Age: 246
Race: Golem
Affinity: Metallum, specifically bronze.

Personality: Eresa fosters the appearance of a bored dilettante. She collects as much art, clothing, and people as her savings can afford, but holding very little affection for any of it beyond its price for resale. No, what truly captures her heart and soul is power. She had all the power she could want, once. If she could have it again, and hold on to it better this time, then perhaps she could fill the void in her purposeless life.

Fighting Style: As a being made of bronze and a Spirit of the same, Eresa has unparalleled control over her body's structure and the metals which comprise the alloy (copper, tin, etc.). She can form her hands into blades or other tools, increase her size, or even mend damage. For these benefits, there are also some serious deficits. Bronze is a soft alloy, bending and shearing far easier than steel, and the mending process takes quite a lot if time as Eresa has to concentrate to remake her fine components.

To be honest, if Eresa found herself in combat she'd most likely be chiding herself for being stupid. She would much rather hire some thugs, poison, or throw money at a problem until it goes away. Despite her prowess if it came to combat, Eresa is not a combatant.

Bio: 246 years ago Mother Eresa Aedon, Lux Matron of the Coven and holder of the 5th Mystery, died on a pyre. For 43 years previous she had clawed her way up the ranks of her order and tore down her rivals. The title of Arch-matron was within her grasp. But she'd grown complacent. Betrayed by a rival, she was one of the first flames that would set the whole of the Old Coven alight. But the fire didn't truly end her. She was saved.

Salvation pushed her soul into a worker of Monolith. There she toiled, bitter for it, but without the knowledge of why. In time she managed to find others like her, dissatisfied with their lot in life with the vague feeling that something had been wrongfully stolen. These disparate workers formed the Autonomous League, pooling their skills to find a way to slip the shackles of Providence's Blessings. From their labor the Converter was born.

Able to siphon Blessings away from their intended recipients, the converter stored the mystical energy for later use, to be shared by the League. The next, logical step was to see if they could concentrate the power of the Blessings enough to create a Traveler. Eresa was their first volunteer. The refinement and gathering processes were painstaking, but finally they were certain they could mimic the intensity of Providence for just a few seconds. They theorized that exposure to that much untamed energy would be enough to jump-start the Traveler metamorphosis. They were right, to a point.

When it was over Eresa felt like herself again. Her affinity for Lux had been wiped out by the transformation, but the loss paled before the return of her memories and the sense of being complete. After regaining her senses, she informed her fellows that they had succeeded. She then proceeded to kill them all using the Converter, destroyed it, and stole its design notes. She knew that somehow Monolith's god had sensed her apotheosis. The Spinnermen, workers who had given their minds and bodies to Providence to become temple guardians, were on their way. She made a harrowing escape from the city, Spinnermen tracking her the whole way until their Blessings failed them.

With her freedom assured, so long as he never returned, Eresa began to explore her new world. She raided her old boltholes for funds and sold the stockpiled charms and scrolls that she could no longer use. With the bureaucracy of the New Coven earning her bitter disdain, Eresa decided to enjoy her new lease on life. She earned it.

Appearance:


Eresa's "skin" is a dull bronze that, if looked at from afar, would almost pass for human. The mistake ends there as one would notice her eyes were the same color as the skin, almost like they and the rest of her face were sculpted as a formality from one piece of bronze. Her hair is much the same as its polished form doesn't actually hang free, but is another molded part of her head.

Eresa's taste for the finer things extends to her wardrobe. The latest fashions from across Protea usually find their way onto her 7' frame. By far her favorite is a glossy black gown that hugs her form without being inappropriately snug. A long drape off her right shoulder and a bronze sash around her hips completes the look.

The War Over Driahn Peaks (High Fantasy)

Einin was bored. Just three words and yet they summarized the entirety of her existence. She. Was. Bored.

It was a rather slow day, truth be told, but that was hardly an excuse. She had set herself in front of her loom and was determined to do something productive until some poor soul would grace her shop with their presence. The hours she'd spent perusing colors, finding the perfect pattern, laying everything out perfectly and precisely... And there she stopped.

She'd been looking at the loom for two hours now, practically willing the thing to at start on its own. She had spent her energy perusing, her creativity imagining, and her patience on precision. Now that the crucial moment had come, she had nothing left. Yet another day wasted in the pursuit of nothing.

"Just like the rest of my life," said the dark, little voice in her head. The one who had become way too talkative as of late.

The rest was a blur of stomping, throwing open doors, and the need to get away from the cramped shop.