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The Hourglass Order

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The Hourglass Order

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S I L A S R I E G E R

"Closed minds are always the smallest."

15 | Male | Eskandr/Unknown | Commoner | 6.22

P E R S O N A L I T Y

❖ [Mischievous]
❖ [Compassionate]
❖ [Garrulous]
❖ [Optimistic]
❖ [Juvenile]

Barely a teenager, it comes as no surprise that many of Silas' more childish characteristics still linger. His lack of proper upbringing is evident upon meeting, but what he lacks in manners he makes up for in joviality and witt. On the surface this act may come across as flippant and aloof, but he possesses and earnest and loyal heart for those few he truly holds dear. It is years of isolation the knowing only the self-serving culture of vagrants that makes him slow to trust. He abhors violence and is squeamish to the point he'd likely faint at the mere sight of his own blood, if he was actually capable of seeing it.

C H A R A C T E R A P P E A R A N C E

Silas' eyes often generate the most stares and attention, the white-less and almost in-human tissue that remains in his sockets has made the occasional child scream, so he most often keeps them covered with a simple head-wrap. The rest of his features lack the same uniqueness. He is short, even for his age, barely scarping past five feet and has still has yet to shake the gaunt frame of a child from the slums. Hollow cheeks and dark circles under his sockets make his face much less child-like than expected, but his dark hair is thick and healthy, reaching nearly to his shoulders. Finally, the visible parts of his face include a straight nose a touch to long to be handsome, and a mouth too wide to look attractive in any position other than a smile.

L A N G U A G E S

Avincian. No writing/reading abilities.

T H E G I F T

_{6.22 | Redblood | Icevien | Powergazer}

While of middling capacity for a student of Ersand'Enise, Silas' talent shows through the form of his speed and methods. His drawing time is near instant, especially if he is facing the target to be drawn from - the strange tissue that takes the place of his eyes absorbing energy as readily as they sense it.

While most kinetic users only use active forces to draw, Silas's power-gazing abilities allow him to visualize static and potential energies as-well. It is after studying these elements more closely that Silas has developed his own form of movement augmentation based around friction. Be it by drawing from or casting to amplify the static and kinetic friction of surfaces Silas can make them impossibly slick or completely immovable respectively.

His practice in arcane magics had produced much less excitement. Drawing heat comes naturally with his icevien mana, but so far he has had great difficulty casting it as outward heat or even light. His one particular arcane skill is focused on drawing, and was discovered by accident during a time in hiding; drawing all of his own body's heat Silas can approximate death, appearing corpse-like with barely heartbeat for a few hours. He is currently oblivious to how dangerous this actually is, but avoids it purely for fear of the splitting headache that comes as part of its extensive recovery period. Illusion magic or altering his appearance through the use of light is the skill he most desires to learn.

B A C K G R O U N D

The identity of Silas' father may forever remain a mystery but his mother's story is one he knows well. Aline Rieger, an Eskandr slave, found herself unexpectedly free after her master died of typhus shortly after arriving in Ersand'Enise. Naive and vulnerable, it took little time for the city to take advantage of her. Madame Copin became her employer, at a brothel near the docks in Mudville of so little repute it didn't even have a proper name. Her pay was barely more than the room and board her employer charged her each month, and less once Silas was born; ensuring her eternal debt to the woman. Destitute as Silas' beginnings may have been, they were a happy time in memory for a child who was decently fed and well loved by an communal family in the brothel. At least until his eyes began to rot out of his head.

Or so was the deduction of the Madame, after taking one look at the boy's shrinking, dark eyes. Fearing a new disease that might deter customers, Silas was suddenly ripped from communal life to quarantine in a closet-sized room with a blanket and pillow. He was kept there for the first season of his 7th year, nightly kicking at the door and screaming for help as his entire world grew dark. Only his mother ever came, in the early hours of morning while the rest of the house was quiet. She would wrap him in her arms and tie cool, sweet-smelling bandages around his eyes as she told him about the gods, her homeland, and the life he had left outside.

When he remained healthy and the deterioration of his eyes had ceased; leaving only soft black tissue in its place, did the Madame send for a healer. No academy mage or priest came, but Moriff - a man middling renown in Ersand'Enise's underworld. He was known to take take jobs for less conventional pay than coin, and when he'd heard a description of the boy's condition had come to see it himself. Oblivious to the man's reputation, Silas was in awe as he was told not only would he see again, but use the gift as-well. The man left, with instructions on how to find him if Silas ever wanted further instruction.

It wasn't until his tenth year that Moriff's words came true. What Silas saw could never be called true sight, but it was more than the darkness that came before and he was grateful. Aline was loathe to let her son leave her to follow a swindler, but she had little power to stop him, and they were always desperate for coin.

The work for Moriff had very little to do with the gift at all. The man did help Silas learn to navigate his strange new vision and how to draw from the energies he saw, but mostly employed the boy as an urchin. First he used him as one of his many child beggars, hoping travelers would pity a blind boy. But it quickly became apparent that Silas had much more useful talents. He could make himself vanish at a moments notice, scale walls with ease, and could pockets off the most scrupulous merchants. It didn't take long for his employment to become that of a full time larcenist.

Silas reveled in that time, the pittance he earned as more money than he knew what to do with. He also gained an entire new family; one that didn't care about his ruined eyes, even relished them. His mother was never as excited about his new life as he liked, but she couldn't complain either; he'd grown to old to remain at the brothel as a child and what Moriff lacked in morality he made up for by keeping her son in close proximity and relative safety from the streets.

With the help of Silas and the other children in him employ Moriff eventually grew to become one of the larger forces within the underworld, and began the plan for bigger moves. Silas was sent to steal a crate off a merchant ship in the docks. It was too heavy to be carried out without the help of force magic, and it didn't take long for curiosity to win out over good sense, and Silas opened the package for a look. Inside were dozens of riles, pistols, grenades, and ammunition. He remembered Moriff's words about coming war and arming themselves. Fear of violence for his make-shift family made him drop the crate into the water of the docks, fear of Moriff made him run before the man could know what had happened. With nowhere to go and in desperate need of hiding Silas hid in one of the only place Moriff couldn't reach, a place he even feared. The Academy.

There was plenty of extra room for him there, between forgotten passages, dusty attics, and gaps between the walls he was able to move around most of the campus without being seen. Food was so abundant the little he took at night were never missed. Most importantly, Silas was able to do what he'd imagined doing for half his life, study his gift.

It was Giacomo Giarrone that found him. An inevitability to the point that Silas remains un-sure if his time spend undetected in the walls wasn't elaborate joke by the Arch-Zeno on the rest of his colleagues. If it was the case, the effect was dramatic. He may not have exactly seen their faces, shock was clear as the small filthy child recounted every lesson he had eavesdropped and display his gift. Whether it was pity, amusement, or genuine excitement about his skills, Silas left the meeting a Zenith's Scholar of Ersand'Enise's Academy of Thaumaturgy.

M O T I V A T I O N

Silas will one day become a great and powerful mage. Once he gains enough influence and wealth he will return to his not-mother and take them both somewhere far north where they could begin a new life free from debtors and prejudice.

I N V E N T O R Y

He has only what he brought with him during his escape; a shirt and trousers. Not that he had many possessions to begin with. His wardrobe has been supplemented with used clothing left by former students. A small collection of valuables from the wealthier students have made their way to his possession, only Dami knows how.

S T R E N G T H S & S K I L L S

❖ Powergazer
❖ Slight of hand
❖ Stealth/Thievery
❖ Ersand'Enise City Expert
❖ Quick

W E A K N E S S E S & F L A W S

❖ Pacifist-nature
❖ "Blind"
❖ Illiterate
❖ Uneducated/trained
❖ Underworld fugitive

M I S C E L L A N E O U S

BB Colour code = 7B68EE

O R I F L A M M E

Lyen'Ivhere'Zulc

---

Defense Of Relouse II

Lyen's work made little visible difference to the beach. Especially in comparison to the variable forest the small swamp witch had created. A close inspection might reveal the tops the jagged stone barely making themselves visible as the waves rolled back from the shore: But high tide would hide them better when the enemies landed. Let them wade through the high waters; at the mercy of thunder-mages before reaching the barely covered sand traps placed along the path inland. Her hands were covered in sand and clothes crusted with salt spray by the time she was done. It was growing late but she'd have time to at least change before the battle began. She was stopped on her way back to the camps by another Yasoi, a man a least a decade her junior tried re-directing her towards the Witch Wood.

"We're to meet Talit at the tree line." He finished his rehearsed message and turned before she could respond, he was so certain she would follow.

"I was assigned to a human Captain this morning and received no such orders." Lyen had no desire to hide in the woods while the first battle of Perrence waged barely a mile away. The main force of Eskand would be arriving on the beach and she would be there to witness it.

"As you say I suppose" Was all he said with barely a shrug, but this time Lyen took hold of him before he moved away.

"Just one thing" Oblivious, or simply uncaring about surrounding watchers, Lyen hiked her skirts past her calf, removing the blade strapped there. Unsheathed, it was bight polished silver, barely more than a flash light as she dragged it, without hesitation, across the back of her own forearm. The font of blood made its way down to her finger tips, where did not drip to the ground but instead flowed back upwards, twisting between each finger until a coin-sized pool rested in her palm. The Yasoi man, apparently familiar enough with the process, rolled his sleeve to expose his shoulder, where Lyen finally allowed the blood to fall. Most disappeared into the skin, until only a small raised freckle remained. In her own body, Lyen reached out and felt the man's heartbeat, just barely out of rhythm with her own, and loud at this proximity, but it was a distraction she was accustomed to tuning out.

"Ilbin ist Oirase triec" With a tight smile, he nodded in thanks for her blessing and they finally parted ways.

---

It wasn't clear just how controlled and organized the chaos in the camps had been until true disorder and panic erupted. Lyen had only just finished changing when the shouting and crowd of people drew her out of the tent. There was a stretcher, still mounted knights, and far too many pushing hands to see much else. Above it all a splitting howl of agony.

"A binder! Someone fetch a binder!" Lyen's heart sank. The role of medic had been the one she'd most carefully avoided up to this point. She'd already spent the better part of two decades tending to the wounds of humans, and had learned as much as she cared to about the subject. But when she saw hands pulling off pieces of armor still fused to skin of the awake and screaming man she stepped forward.

"Stop! You're making it worse, step away and let me bind him." She dropped two small vials from the pouch of her hip and stepped on them. Using the small wisp of essence they produced she placed a hand on each side of the screaming man's head. Almost instantly his eyes closed and he stilled to silence. It was finally quiet enough for the others surrounding them to hear what she was saying.

"He needs water and space. You two, take him into my tent. Someone tell me what happened." The inside space of her quarters was tight with Lyen, her patient, and his squire kneeling beside her, keeping the basin water clean and full while retelling the events of Cap Redame to the best of his ability.

Lyen listened as she diligently dissolved the plate attached to burnt skin, which she did her best to repair. It was tedious work, gruesome and slow but resulting in much of the man's own flesh being saved. One of the few less fortunate areas was his left torso: The heat there had been enough to melt through the fat and muscle to expose the beginning of his rib cage. She had only just finished grafting the area from some of her preserved remains when a feeling intense dread hit her so suddenly Lyen froze in the midst of her labours.

"Something's wrong-" Dread quickly melted to panic as the realization for the feeling finally dawned. It was the second heartbeat - the connection to the Yasoi in the woods. He was dying. The impossibility of it stunned Lyen for longer still. It should have been impossible, there weren't nearly enough forces north to face a contingent of Yasoi in the trees.

She stood, abruptly ending her work. When the squire began asking questions and demanded she remain she brushed his concerns aside. "He'll live." She said. Badly scared with and with extensive damage to the nerves, but he would survive well enough without any more intervention from her. The second heartbeat she could hear continued to skip and fade.

"Zulc!" Her Captain from the morning had suddenly appeared and was blocking her path. He'd allowed himself in her tent, leaving barely enough room for the three conscious occupants to stand. At least someone had reminded him of her name this time. "You're needed on the beach-head." He took no notice of the squire, patient, or blood staining everything including Lyen herself.

"I'm needed in the Witch Wood." She countered, pushing him out of the crowded space with her. If the Yasoi were overwhelmed, had they failed to even get warning out? She could imagine their bodies littering the forest floor, only to be trampled by a Eskandr vanguard. They'd already been wrong once about Cap Redame. The stories of mistakes made at the city of Vitroux rang in her ears louder than the captain's commands.

"Orders are for the second battalion to make for the beach. Its too late for reassignments now. Beach-head Yosai. Now." Lyen glared after him until he turned out of view, when she poked her head back into her tent.

"You rode back here on a horse?" The squire nodded. "I'll need to borrow it."

Within five minutes she was riding north of the camp, towards the Witch Wood, and getting her first real view of war.

summary

- Traps set up on beach include rocks to hinder boats trying to come ashore and sand traps for those that make it to the beach to fall into.
- Lyen helps save one of the Knights almost killed in Cap Redame
- Worried the Yasoi are overwhelmed at the Witch Wood Lyen disobeys orders to go to the beachhead and instead rides for the forest.

O R I F L A M M E

Lyen'Ivhere'Zulc

---

Defense Of Relouse I

It really was a beautiful place to start a war. From Lyen's place on the walls of the city proper she could see across the far empty plains stretching west only to suddenly stop at the cliffs of Relouse, where the land made a sudden drop into the sea. The morning mist was clearing and far on the eastern shore she could see the final remaining friendly ships making their arrival. It was a magnificent view, a paradise only beginning to be transformed into a battlefield with fortifications being placed at the city's base and the fabric signaling the tents of the army encampment barely visible from her current line of sight.

"Yasoi!" The Captain she'd been assigned to that morning had re-appeared and shouted for her attention while still on the approach. His manner was arrogant and name such a jumble of Parrench syllables she'd opted put as much effort into learning it as he had her own. It had done little to aid their extremely short but already strained relationship.

"Captain."

"Finished here?"

Her assigned task was to help with minor repairs of the city walls: Small cracks and holes acceptable during peace times were to sealed and reinforced in effort to breaching as difficult and time consuming as possible for the expected invaders. Lyen rested her hands on ramparts and let the final remains of her drawn magic leech downwards to fill any of the remaining weaknesses."The south-side wall at least. Haven't run into the others."

The Captain gave a single nod of approval and continued his tour of Relouse's walls. "They've requested more binders to help set traps on the beach." Apparently having already given up on her ability follow the traditional formalities of military command he hadn't even slowed his stride to speak with her. Wariness and distrust of strange outsiders was a problem that had become as familiar to Lyen as her own name, but not one that had no clear remedy. She found humans often close-minded, but rarely hateful, it was fear that fueled their prejudices and with looming war there was plenty to go around.

---

Not having been given a direct order, Lyen took her time leaving the city. It was something of a marvel to witness how the streets had emptied themselves in barely two days: The able bodied were helping in the camps, while the unable that failed flee to city stayed locked in their homes with their prayers. Only the odd squadron of soldiers crossed her path, each giving a second glance over their shoulders before disappearing around a corner. It wasn't until reaching the gate that the eerie quiet was replaced with arguing men; an integral part to war-making it seemed. The discussion hinged on whether the gate was to be operated with magic or the installed pulley mechanism. As was habit, she listened without comment, at least until a higher ranking officer arrived to sort out the disagreement. Reluctant get roped into more glorified city maintenance work, Lyen slipped away with as little remark as she'd come.

By the time she arrived that the edge of the camp a small crowd was gathering, and without invitation she followed to the center of the mayhem at the stables. She ducked between jogging squires and servants carrying around weapons and riding equipment until she found the stable-master she'd met two days before.

"What's going on?" She grabbed his arm, interrupting his work and earning a quick look of surprise that quickly turned to scorn as recognition dawned on the man.

"Advanced scout team. Taking the fight to Cape Redame." With a sharp tug away from her and a short, gruff response he made intent to be done with the conversation clear.

A pang of regret hit Lyen; she'd have liked to join them, had she not sold her horse to the same dismissive man two days prior. The lightness of her purse had outweighed both sentiment and forethought when she'd first arrived and the faithful beast was sold for too small a price. Ignoring his tone, she continued to follow him, hopeful they could renegotiate. "And I don't suppose we could discuss..." But the stable-master was already deliberately putting bodies between them, both horse and man, to get away from her. Not quite fast enough for his barking laugh to be out of Lyen's earshot. Apparently he'd not been impressed with her bartering before.

"Short lives, long resentments." She muttered to herself, watching with great envy as the group of horses set off north. Only after they passed the limits of her vision did Lyen to remember her original directive to attend to the beach where she found a group large enough to call into question how much her aid was truly needed.

badpost;didn'tread

- Lyen and a handful of other binders have repaired/fortified city walls.
- Lyen saw the Cape Redame party but couldn't go with them, very sad
- Lyen arrives at beach to help make traps

O R I F L A M M E

Lyen

Lyen'Ivhere'Zulc__ _ _ _ _

42 | F E M A L E | Y A S O I | B L O O D & E S S E N C E | M A L E D I C T____ _ _ _ _

C H A R A C T E R I S T I C S__ _ _ _ _

At a glance, Lyen fits all the negative preconceptions of Maledicts and swamp witches. She is a collector of the macabre, practices strange and dangerous magic, and may have a startling appearance and candour to any unfamiliar with Yasoi. In truth she is simply curious and genuine, and will very happily discuss the very practical uses of keeping a preserved brain on hand with anyone who asks.

Though she has been apart from her people for some time still carries their ways and features with her: The inexhaustible energy that keeps her unable to stay seated for long, bright eyes that are constantly searching for the next preoccupation, and a direct way of communicating that leaves little room for deception or subtlety. The greatest change in her time away has been her manner of dress, over years she has come to to feel comfortable in Drudgunzean fashion, which somewhat helps lessen the attention her grey skin and yellow markings draw. She ornaments herself with small pieces of her ever-growing collection braided into her thin dark hair, or pinned to the fabric of her clothes; items of varying values from Avincian coins to bird bones.

B A C K G R O U N D__ _ _ _ _

Lyen was born far from the lands of the Yasoi. Her parents were constant travellers and had happened to find themselves on the border of Drudgunze and Eskand when their daughter was born. While they set out to return, it wouldn't be until Lyen's twelfth year that she would meet another of her own kind. Her mother a ranger, and father a healer of blood magic there always seemed another diversion that kept them in human lands for just a month or year longer.

Their eventual return was met with a Mette'stiroi in celebration. The party marked an impossibly large shift in Lyen's young life. It was the night she discovered her people, her gift, and her future. She was tested amidst the festivities by Byln'Keh'Sibur, an elder who has spotted her showing off blood magic to other young Yosai. She was tested four times in total that night, each with a different group of witnesses to cheer for her results.

Byln herself accepted her as an apprentice by the end of the week, and initially things went perfectly. Lyen was fascinated by and devoted to her training and new home. But as time went on, restlessness began to set in and the confines of her new life became apparent. Five years into her teachings she ran away for the first time. Only to be tracked with a spell and pair of Dervishers and promptly returned to Byln's care. She managed another year before running off again. Eventually the attempts became frequent enough that the her mentor conceded; the remainder of Lyen's study would send her travelling the Yasoi settlements, and find teachers in elders along the way.

The offer was meant to be something of a joke, the Yasoi are spread far with great distances between them, but Lyen's thirst for freedom and knowledge was greater than Byln had expected. She was over 30 by the time she returned to Anentso, having earned golden Tetsoy and her cognomen of 'eternal student' rightly, she wore the mocking joke as a badge of honour. Byln was dead, and deciding there was little left to learn there, Leyn looked east, to return to the human lands of her childhood.

For the past ten years Lyen has lived among humans, only returning west for the occasional Mette'stiroi where she trades in artifacts and stories with others of her kind, and always leaves with an additional Tetsoy to remind her to return again. Her search for knowledge has taken her over most of the continent, but now she arrives in Parrence come to see exactly what sorts of heroes have come to answer the boy-king's call.

I N V E N T O R Y__ _ _ _ _

Karambit - A curved blade of four inches, equally useful as a tool and close quarters weapon.
Dagger - A thin five inch dagger made of silver, solely used for letting her own blood for use in spells.
Surgical Tools - Self explanatory
Preserved Tissue - The most unsettling of her collections are about half a dozen jars of organic samples including two brains. Useful tools when it comes to internal essence and blood magic, but few seem keen to learn much more into her research of the subject.
Spores of Vil'Drece - a mushroom found in Yasoi lands known for its anti-inflammatory effects when brewed as tea and intense psychedelic effects when eaten raw.

T H E G I F T__ _ _ _ _

4W - Blood - Essence - Truecaster

When the elders first discovered her gift, Lyen was using it to make lewd sculptures and small fireworks for amusement. While her magic now takes a much different form, she still regards it as an exquisite tool of nature to be studied and marvelled as much as any of the more gentle types, and finds the idea of 'good' and 'bad' magic absurd although all to common in humans.

While her truecasting limitation makes external blood and essence magics rather predictable and unimpressive, her precision and power on the internal level is anything but. Her maledict studies included detail study of the effect of poisons and remedies on the body's composition allowing her to mimic, or even repress, most symptoms with a simple touch of drawn essence.

Internal blood magic is more complex; generally these spells require drawing from her own mana by blood a producing parasites to infect the bodies of others. There 'parasites', while only surviving for a few days, may have any of a variety of uses: Tracking, energy leeching, monitoring, or damage.

S T R E N G T H S & S K I L L S__ _ _ _ _

❖ Adaptable: Owing to both her love of learning and complete lack of discipline Lyen is something of a jack-of-all-trades. While she doesn't excel at much anything beyond the use and study of her gift, she has tried a wide assortment of skills for varying amounts of time with poor to middling results. These include; whittling, archery, midwifing, cake-making, tailoring, fishing, plan-fluting, and more.
❖ Anatomical knowledge: A consequence to her studies and precision required to preform maledict spells Lyen knows more about the internal processes of human and yasoi than most medical practitioners.

W E A K N E S S E S & F L A W S__ _ _ _ _

❖ Inhuman: Her skin being a greyer tone and tall lithe figure make it hard for Lyen to blend in. Humans are exceptionally wary of her after learning about her particular type of magic of reasons she will never fully understand but has grown accustomed to.
❖ Magical Limits: In addition to only being able to truecast, Lyen has a limited drawing range and can only cast within arms reach.
❖ Impulsive: While Lyen might be willing enough to go along with a plan, its rare she's ever able to stick to it; especially if something interesting comes up.

C O L O U R C O D E & O T H E R__ _ _ _ _

❖ D4E637

O R I F L A M M E

[+]

Lyen'Ivhere'Zulc__ _ _ _ _

42 | F E M A L E | Y A S O I | B L O O D & E S S E N C E | M A L E D I C T____ _ _ _ _

C H A R A C T E R I S T I C S__ _ _ _ _

At a glance, Lyen fits all the negative preconceptions of Maledicts and swamp witches. She is a collector of the macabre, practices strange and dangerous magic, and may have a startling appearance and candour to any unfamiliar with Yasoi. In truth she is simply curious and genuine, and will very happily discuss the very practical uses of keeping a preserved brain on hand with anyone who asks.

Though she has been apart from her people for some time still carries their ways and features with her: The inexhaustible energy that keeps her unable to stay seated for long, bright eyes that are constantly searching for the next preoccupation, and a direct way of communicating that leaves little room for deception or subtlety. The greatest change in her time away has been her manner of dress, over years she has come to to feel comfortable in Drudgunzean fashion, which somewhat helps lessen the attention her grey skin and yellow markings draw. She ornaments herself with small pieces of her ever-growing collection braided into her thin dark hair, or pinned to the fabric of her clothes; items of varying values from Avincian coins to bird bones.

B A C K G R O U N D__ _ _ _ _

Lyen was born far from the lands of the Yasoi. Her parents were constant travellers and had happened to find themselves on the border of Drudgunze and Eskand when their daughter was born. While they set out to return, it wouldn't be until Lyen's twelfth year that she would meet another of her own kind. Her mother a ranger, and father a healer of blood magic there always seemed another diversion that kept them in human lands for just a month or year longer.

Their eventual return was met with a Mette'stiroi in celebration. The party marked an impossibly large shift in Lyen's young life. It was the night she discovered her people, her gift, and her future. She was tested amidst the festivities by Byln'Keh'Sibur, an elder who has spotted her showing off blood magic to other young Yosai. She was tested four times in total that night, each with a different group of witnesses to cheer for her results.

Byln herself accepted her as an apprentice by the end of the week, and initially things went perfectly. Lyen was fascinated by and devoted to her training and new home. But as time went on, restlessness began to set in and the confines of her new life became apparent. Five years into her teachings she ran away for the first time. Only to be tracked with a spell and pair of Dervishers and promptly returned to Byln's care. She managed another year before running off again. Eventually the attempts became frequent enough that the her mentor conceded; the remainder of Lyen's study would send her travelling the Yasoi settlements, and find teachers in elders along the way.

The offer was meant to be something of a joke, the Yasoi are spread far with great distances between them, but Lyen's thirst for freedom and knowledge was greater than Byln had expected. She was over 30 by the time she returned to Anentso, having earned golden Tetsoy and her cognomen of 'eternal student' rightly, she wore the mocking joke as a badge of honour. Byln was dead, and deciding there was little left to learn there, Leyn looked east, to return to the human lands of her childhood.

For the past ten years Lyen has lived among humans, only returning west for the occasional Mette'stiroi where she trades in artifacts and stories with others of her kind, and always leaves with an additional Tetsoy to remind her to return again. Her search for knowledge has taken her over most of the continent, but now she arrives in Parrence come to see exactly what sorts of heroes have come to answer the boy-king's call.

I N V E N T O R Y__ _ _ _ _

Karambit - A curved blade of four inches, equally useful as a tool and close quarters weapon.
Dagger - A thin five inch dagger made of silver, solely used for letting her own blood for use in spells.
Surgical Tools - Self explanatory
Preserved Tissue - The most unsettling of her collections are about half a dozen jars of organic samples including two brains. Useful tools when it comes to internal essence and blood magic, but few seem keen to learn much more into her research of the subject.
Spores of Vil'Drece - a mushroom found in Yasoi lands known for its anti-inflammatory effects when brewed as tea and intense psychedelic effects when eaten raw.

T H E G I F T__ _ _ _ _

4W - Blood - Essence - Truecaster

When the elders first discovered her gift, Lyen was using it to make lewd sculptures and small fireworks for amusement. While her magic now takes a much different form, she still regards it as an exquisite tool of nature to be studied and marvelled as much as any of the more gentle types, and finds the idea of 'good' and 'bad' magic absurd although all to common in humans.

While her truecasting limitation makes external blood and essence magics rather predictable and unimpressive, her precision and power on the internal level is anything but. Her maledict studies included detail study of the effect of poisons and remedies on the body's composition allowing her to mimic, or even repress, most symptoms with a simple touch of drawn essence.

Internal blood magic is more complex; generally these spells require drawing from her own mana by blood a producing parasites to infect the bodies of others. There 'parasites', while only surviving for a few days, may have any of a variety of uses: Tracking, energy leeching, monitoring, or damage.

S T R E N G T H S & S K I L L S__ _ _ _ _

❖ Adaptable: Owing to both her love of learning and complete lack of discipline Lyen is something of a jack-of-all-trades. While she doesn't excel at much anything beyond the use and study of her gift, she has tried a wide assortment of skills for varying amounts of time with poor to middling results. These include; whittling, archery, midwifing, cake-making, tailoring, fishing, plan-fluting, and more.
❖ Anatomical knowledge: A consequence to her studies and precision required to preform maledict spells Lyen knows more about the internal processes of human and yasoi than most medical practitioners.

W E A K N E S S E S & F L A W S__ _ _ _ _

❖ Inhuman: Her skin being a greyer tone and tall lithe figure make it hard for Lyen to blend in. Humans are exceptionally wary of her after learning about her particular type of magic of reasons she will never fully understand but has grown accustomed to.
❖ Magical Limits: In addition to only being able to truecast, Lyen has a limited drawing range and can only cast within arms reach.
❖ Impulsive: While Lyen might be willing enough to go along with a plan, its rare she's ever able to stick to it; especially if something interesting comes up.

C O L O U R C O D E & O T H E R__ _ _ _ _

❖ D4E637

O R I F L A M M E

Voicing my interest as well.

Political RP

I'm interested, is a discord server up yet?

Young Justice Renegades: A Team Worth Dying For

<Snipped quote by Tackytaff>

Shameful display. You shame your grandmother, your grandfather, your dog and your pet pelican.

That do it?

@Hillan

I typed it up through tears

Young Justice Renegades: A Team Worth Dying For

It didn't take long for the lounge to fill out, everyone entering with their own greeting and comment on the movie choice. Selene herself hadn't originally been too keen on Cece's selection, but her enthusiasm was contagious enough that she found herself thoroughly focused on the opening credits when Skeets entered through the window.

"Are you sure we shouldn't at least send the League a message or something?" While they technically weren't affiliated and many members had resentments towards the League, Booster very much was with them; not to mention a more monitored member in the group. It figured he would get himself into trouble while the heads of the League were on the other side of the globe. The thought brought the dawning of an idea to Selene, who was suddenly sitting up straight and intently listening to the rest of the party.

"I might sit this one out, seems like you have enough eager volunteers already" She nodded in the direction of the open window Hana had just launched herself from. A few weeks ago she probably would have followed, desperate to prove a point. As it was she had just seen half a dozen teenagers who hadn't worked together before all go off to fight a handful of B-list crime-fighters. Whatever addition she could bring would only add more chaos to the situation. Not to mention she was familiar enough with Booster to know his failure didn't always indicate a very serious level of threat. At least not for a team like theirs.

"Good luck!" She waved goodbye as the last of the team left her alone in the lounge. Carefully, she picked up the small humming robot on the coffee table. It was dense, and slightly warm but could easily fit inside the front pouch of her sweatshirt.

Once she returned to her room she locked her door and placed Skeets down on her desk. It remained dim and motionless. After only a few seconds Selene took up pacing and worrying her already badly bitten nails to no avail. Her plan involved both both using Wonder Woman's personal login credentials and tapping into the League database, and while she hadn't been specifically forbidden from doing either she doubted Diana would react positively. If she found out. Indifferent to her nerves and impatience, the robot remained still. Selene finally opted to sit and stare at it from the bed while trying to slow her racing heart.