Tendo

Clandestine: Academy of the Supernaturals

Made a quick post, not too happy about it but I'll have to work for the next 10-11 hours and would hate to hold you guys up.

EDIT: Feel free to move my character to the ball in order to move the plot forward

Clandestine: Academy of the Supernaturals

«I do look ravishing.» Nellia said as she admired herself in front of the mirror, the dress a perfect fit and the mask excellently complimenting her eyes as she styled her fiery red hair in a side ponytail.
«And these heels should fit in nicely. Although if I trip, I'll probably die.»

Nellia stared at her image for a bit longer. She wasn't used to seeing herself so formally dressed thus she was memorizing the moment, who knew if she'd ever get the chance again.

Yet, she wasn't as cheerful as she had been when she arrived a few minutes ago. Being alone brought out the worst in her, thoughts and feelings she fought every second of every day to suppress. And that's when she heard the front door of the dorm open and someone getting in. In the very same moment, all of herself was flooded by pure childish-like excitement.

Alright, we've gone through this before, just stay calm and don't ask whether she has an imaginary fish. We have to make this one like us, we cannot afford to let our roommate join those who consider us broken.

There was a knock on the door. Nellia almost had to literally hold her mouth closed in order not to reply ''Who's there?''. In her own mind, it would sound hilarious but as she had come to know, not everyone appreciated her humor.

«Hello, am Gracie. I think that we are dormmates.» a voice said, one belonging to a face which was firmly set on a body. Off to a good start she thought.

«Hi. Am Nellia.»

Introduced myself. Now I have to make me interesting while sounding casual. Wasn't that what the book said? Or was it a dream? I'd really love me some ice-cream right now. Her thoughts followed one another in an endless inner monologue. At least she wasn't blurting them out loud.

«I like airplanes. I like anywhere that isn't a proper place. I like in-betweens.»

She took a step closer to the new arrival, a small and cautious step, as if she was approaching something she didn't want to scare away.

«There is a ball tonight. We have to dress up and wear masks and look ravishing. Ravishing is a nice word, I like it. Let's go together, I am a bit afraid of the corridors, some of them get you lost and I'd really hate to be late.»

Clandestine: Academy of the Supernaturals

Forest pathway>>>Academy

«The sky's a bit crowded, isn't it Mr. Beetle?» Nellia whispered as she stared intently at the night sky, full of stars and moons. In her closed hands, a beetle she had just caught was squirming uncomfortably, fear flooding its every cell. She found the train a bit too fast and a tad too busy for her taste although she did enjoy all the people around her, laughing and talking with each other as if they were friends of old and not men and women who met just minutes ago.

Nellia strolled casually down the well-trodden path as she entertained herself by smelling the various plants and whispering words of comfort to her captive bug which was most certainly by this time, praying to whatever God beetles pray to.

«You know Mr. Beetle, this forest ain't empty. And I don't mean that it's full of birds and deers and your kin but full of... full of something else too. Forests are like that though, aren't they Mr. Beetle? Full of mystery?... You're awfully quiet. I don't like it. I don't like you. Perhaps you're hiding your true self. Perhaps deep down you are a very interesting beetle. I want to see, Mr. Beetle, I want to take just a tiny little look in your tiny little core.»

The small beetle didn't feel much after that. Only its prison tightening around it to the point that its mangled body was covered in its very own intestines. Perhaps beetle-heaven was a thing and he would live an eternity in sheer bliss. Or not.

«Am sorry, Mr. Beetle. Turns out we were too different.» she whispered as she wiped her hands with some leaves and continued her walk through the forest until she reached the grand yet visibly aged entrance of the Academy. She stopp-

«Stop narrating! You've been doing that since I got on that damned train and it's driving me bonkers!» she suddenly started yelling, attracting lots of attention from a lot of people. Sudden outbursts like that weren't that rare for those who had spent time around Nellia yet only when she was particularly stressed or angry did she resort to expressions like ''bonkers''.

«You little gobshite! You stop this-- Oh look, there's a ball coming up that am supposed to attend!» With the attention span of a mosquito on ecstasy, Nellia finally remembered that she had been assigned to a dorm and that she would have to attend a ball later. In fact, she did wonder how could she forget such a thing. Without hesitation, she started running towards the stairs on the far side of the hall she was in despite the fact that she had absolutely no idea where ''Ivory'' was located.

Ivory

«Finally. For a moment there, I thought the corridors forgot where they were supposed to lead.» she exclaimed, sweaty and and flushed from all the running. She entered the room and immediatelly fell in love with it and the part she would call her personal space. She felt it calling to her, the bed near the window, right next to the wall, a bit secluded and with the most beautiful mask she had ever set eyes upon on it. She left her small, leather, patched up backpack on the bed and opened the closet, eager to see what would accompany that glorious mask.

And she wasn't disappointed. Her dress would compliment her figure perfectly. It wasn't as colorful as she would have liked but perhaps a simple and modest debut was a good enough introduction.

«I'll probably look ravishing in that dress. I hate it when I do that, someone might have his heart broken...Oh well, it's not like hearts aren't supposed to break, if that was the case, we wouldn't have to be really careful when walking. Broken hearts are sharp.»

She put the dress back in the closet and started playing with her bright red hair as she watched the world move outside her window. New beginnings scared her and this one more than usual and she would definitely wish on a shooting star that this adventure would be worth it.

Clandestine: Academy of the Supernaturals

Leviathan said
Third Floor | Ivory Room:

Gracie & Nellia

PS: Working on a post.

Clandestine: Academy of the Supernaturals [CHBN]

Appearance

Standing at 5' 7'' and with a skinny build Nellia isn't a menacing figure at all. In fact, despite the bright red color of her hair and the abundance of earrings on her face, she looks more like a teen and less like an adult. Her wardrobe is full of clothes matching almost every color of the spectrum which could cause a stylist a heart attack as soon as he saw yet she doesn't think about it at all. In fact, she dresses in her own weird and wonderful way, mixing and matching colors and styles according to what she's feeling at the moment.

Name
Nellia O'Dell

Nickname
TBR

Gender:
Female

Age
20

Supernatural
TBR

Abilities
TBR

Secret
TBR

Sexuality
Pan-sexual

A bit about your character
Nellia was born on a cold winter's day in a secluded forest of Ireland where she spent the first 11 years of her life alone with her mentally ill mother who kept her away from the world in order to protect her from the humans and those who ''look and feel human yet are not'' as she said. She doesn't know who her father is and her mother always went berserk whenever Nellia mentioned him and one day she simply stopped bothering. They were eventually found though and the local authorities got her mother in a clinic and sent her to an orphanage where she kept on living until her 16th birthday when the voices told her that it was time to go. Yes, the voices. The four years of her life following her escape from the orphanage are a complete mystery to everyone as she simply showed up one day in front of the Academy with a suitcase full of cash which she gave away to a homeless man, perfect knowledge of English, Russian, Japanese, Latin, Ancient and Modern Greek and last but not least even crazier than before.

Pros & Cons
TBR

Class President:
TBR

Theme Song

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Is your character open for romance?
Yes

Would you like a Private Dorm Room?
No

Katawa Shoujo: School for the Disabled REBOOT

Guys, I've decided to withdraw my CS as it does not match the standards I have set for myself. Creating an original character with a physical disability different than blindness, hearing loss etc. was hard (as Elmo who has been a long standing character of mine originally is a mentally ill teen) and once I came up with the 24-hour memory reset, I wanted it to be much more than that therefore I chose Susac's syndrome (which was and still is relatively unknown to me) with its symptoms which I felt at the time would fit in well. Now, having read through all your comments and opinions regarding Susac's which truth be told isn't known to cause memory loss, I simply cannot go on with Elmo the way he is pictured now.

TL;DR: Am not happy with Elmo and the way am forcing the character to be. Hence no ''Personality'' filled.

Thank you for your time and have fun y'all.

Katawa Shoujo: School for the Disabled REBOOT

Name
Anselmo "Elmo" O'Dell

Age
15

Grade (1st/2nd/3rd year)
1st Year

Disability
Susac's syndrome

Personality:
TBR

Background:
Elmo was born in Ireland although he never stayed long enough to call it his homeland. Both his parents travelled around the world on a weekly basis since their professions demanded them so and he followed since he was an infant. He was homeschooled therefore he never really got the chance to sharpen his social skills, something which impacted his life greatly. However, everything changed when he woke up one day and started screaming while holding his head. After lots of tests and thousands spent in the best hospitals of the world, the diagnosis was clear; Elmo suffered from Susac's Syndrome, a disease so rare that modern medicine didn't even know what caused it.

After the grim news, 13 year old Elmo moved to Japan -his father's homeland- along with his parents who finally decided to settle down in order for him to adapt to his situation and learn how to cope with it. Nowadays, he and his parents finally decided that it is time for him to take his first steps towards the world outside the sheltered life he had until now.

Truth is, things will be hard for a teen boy who forgets every single thing that he experienced in the last 24 hours every time he falls asleep. More than hard, provided that memory loss is just the most bizarre part of his condition.

Other Info:
-Always carries his digital voice recorder with him in order to take notes on anything and anyone he feels he should remember next time he wakes up. His laptop where notes on everything regarding his life and condition are stored is also quite valuable as it is the first thing he checks every morning he wakes up in an unknown place and the last thing he updates before falling asleep.

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Regarding the ''Personality'' part, am not really sure about him therefore I'd like to shape him as the RP progresses. If that is something you won't allow, just say so and I'll see what I can do.

Clandestine: Academy of the Supernaturals [INCK]

Colour me interested. Will start working on a CS.

Ten-Dom

Bryn

Name
Brynnulf "Bryn" Innamorte

Age
26

Gender
Male

Sexual Orientation
Heterosexual

Role in Society
Royal Family

Occupation
Healer

Legend

Few know Bryn by name and even fewer by his full. Most have come to know him as Heavenly Demon due to his dreadful appearance and his saintly behaviour while others as the Pilgrim, considering that he's restlessly travelling from one town to the next, one day facing a plague and the other saving a dying child yet he never takes any payment, only a bed for the night and food. Countless have heard of him fighting a mysterious disease in a border town or of the time when he operated on an entire battalion which had been attacked by an ogre in a single night, not losing a single soldier yet these are only bedtime stories. His legend was formed back in the days when he was enlisted in his father's army as Vice-Commander. Royal blood after all does offer some advantages.

It was his first time in a true battlefield and he couldn't be more proud in his shining armor with a few hundred souls relying on him for victory. Then the battle started. He never really forgot the smell of it, the flowers and their crimson stains, the blood of commoners, knights and nobles. He, too, soon joined the fray. Stabbed a man and watched him fall in the dirt, moments before all his royalty came crashing down as he shortly after fell on his knees and held the dying soldier in his very last moments, an act he instinctively performed. His pain was so great that he vowed to never forget his sin and to redeem himself not in the eyes of the Gods but in his very own. He disappeared a few days later from the palace and wasn't found despite his father's best efforts only to reemerge two years later in the middle of a battle, softly speaking to dying soldiers, reassuring others that they will survive or stitching deep wounds. Many attacked him in the heat of battle and they all were knocked out by his quarterstaff. He kept on going like that for hours until the plain white cloak he had been wearing soon turned scarlet from the blood of many, an image many would remember, the man in the blood-soaked cloak who saved dozens and held even more in their last moments, the Ferryman as he is also known among soldiers, someone they can count on to deliver them to the afterlife instead of their bloodthirsty leaders.

Nowadays, the Ferryman, the Heavenly Demon or whatever name you wish to call him has become a heartwarming legend in Iliviace, a symbol of hope and peace, someone who will do his utmost to save you even if you are the greatest villain to ever live. And he will be there even when the sounds of war echoe in the distance, in his soon-to-turn-red white cloak doing what he had done innumerable times before. Risking himself so others may live. A healer's job.

Appearance Picture

Personality
Bryn isn't a bad person, doesn't do drugs and would never steal. Yet his ridiculously intimidating appearance combined with his royal origin often makes commoners hide. He hasn't been called Heavenly Demon without a reason after all.

He would happily give his life away if that meant saving one more person, he considers himself a tool of Jergal, someone meant to lift some of the weight off the common man's shoulders.

Regarding his relationship with others, he does have a few contacts who have come to know him but doesn't really stay anywhere long enough to grow fond of anyone as despite his demeanor he hardly ever trusts people.

Skills
Master Healer - Be it a simple cut or an infectious plague, he will be there and he will make you feel better even for a few moments.

Master Alchemist - As a non-magic healer, potions are his one and only weapon against disease and poison thus it was mandatory that he became a great alchemist. Instead, his unyielding will forced him to become one of the best.

Quarterstaff Mastery - Knowing that the world isn't full of butterflies and rainbows, his trusty quarterstaff never failed him against all kinds of threats although his abnormal skill plays quite the part.

Flaws
Combat Flaws
•No matter the enemy or the situation, he will do his best in order not to kill, even allow himself to be hit or his allies.

Personality Flaws
•Doesn't really do well with anything other than healing.
•His intimidating appearance often makes him look as if dread is his middle name despite the fact that he wouldn't hurt a fly.

Magic Spells
None.

Abilities
•Legendary Healer: His devotion to his ideals along with his selfless living were deemed worthy of Jergal's favor.
-Empathic Touch: Through touch, Bryn is able to sense the status of any living thing. For example, by touching a pregnant woman he is able to determine whether it's a boy or a girl, the child's health status or even if the mother feels tired.
-My Life For Yours: He can always hear the sick, recently dead or dying. Be they in the next room or down the street, he can sense their agony and through touch, he can form a bond with them where he will endure their pain in their place for a set amount of time.
-Panacea: Bryn is immune to any and all diseases and poisons.
•Legendary Alchemist:
Well-Prepared: His satchel, a gift from his mentor seems to never run out of basic materials like vials, bandages etc.

Backstory

Brynnulf Innamorte was born in the Kingdom of Ischael, son of Breinval the Wise and future heir to the throne and only child. His childhood was that of the highest nobility, luxurious and with many scholars giving him the short version of the entire human knowledge thus far. Despite the ways of the world where nobility belongs to a higher caste than the common man, he never looked down on them. Instead he often left the castle in order to hold common meals for the poor and organising classes for the children.

His uneventful childhood and teen years gave way to balls where he flirted with the daughters of many Houses hoping to marry into the Royal bloodline, a ticket to endless riches and long hunts with his father who had many things to say to his firstborn, words of wisdom and advice on how to run a kingdom.

Some time after the five-day feast for his 19th birthday, his father decided to destroy the bandit settlement in northern Ischael and thus Bryn rode alongside him and 800 heavily armored soldiers expecting an easy win. It was indeed an easy win yet for Bryn, it certainly didn't feel like it when he got his first kill. Moments later, the future King of Ischael knelt beside a commoner and held him dearly in his hands as he passed away. Twenty-four hours later, half the royal guard was looking for him in the capital while the rest spread throughout the plains, to no avail.

Bryn had taken his decision to abandon his Kingdom or at least leave it to his father's hands for a while, until he felt that he truly deserved to play a major role in the lives of thousands. He headed south, to warmer climates and away from the always cold foothills of the north where he studied the art of healing and alchemy under great scholars, eager to start redeeming himself.

Over the next few years, he started visiting distant settlements where he healed whoever needed healing and comforting whoever needed a shoulder to lean on, even for a minute building a reputation of a mysterious pilgrim in rags, helping all in need and asking for nothing in return. As soon as he finished his studies, he returned to Ischael in disguise in order to attend his father's funeral who ironically fell victim to a disease, further steeling his will to save lives and find a way to save even more. He remained in Ischael for the next few months, watching the kingdom almost crumbling since he as the heir was missing and many families openly fought for a chance at the crown. He shaped his legend in one of those fights, the mysterious healer, while leaving the House Innamorte medallion on his father's secluded grave, a message for a select few that he knew would be able to understand. Soon after a Lord Regent was elected whose responsibility was to run the country until 40 years passed or the lost prince returned.

Since then, Bryn has been travelling all around the lands, saving all kinds of people with Jergal by his side as the great God once revealed himself in his dream, blessing him with the power to heal more efficiently as a gift for his selfless living and great responsibility as a motive to keep him moving forward.

Ten-Dom

Whispers of Hope: The Juggernaut

2

3

Jukka Fenrirsson

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Age
44

Alias
Bloodbeard, Juggernaut

Gender
Male

Race
Human

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Personality
First thing you see about Jukka is definitely not his eyes. Being 213cm tall (7ft) and weighing around 150kg (330pounds) along with a thick, long beard and menacing eyes, not many can stand his gaze. The world would be a much better place if you could call him a giant with a heart of gold but he ain't. He has taken countless lives, be them lives of men, women or children, he will not hesitate. Never did really, except for the few years of his long life when he was happy.

He is afraid of no man. Never have been, never will be. But monsters? Now, monsters are a completely different thing. He's seen many, fought them but never got used to them, there's something unnatural about them that he just can't accept.

Until now, Jukka had been a killer. A merciless, cold blooded killer. Well, he still is one yet nowadays he's only after those he considers evil, those who he thinks will bring him closer to being worthy of meeting his family, in the afterlife. His twisted logic makes every single life prone to his whims. On his bad days.

He's also an alcoholic. A life such as his can't really be dealt with without alcohol or something to take the thinking away. When it gets too hard, when he starts getting flashbacks, that's when you'll see him drink the most or join the fray with no fear.

He doesn't really value his life, after all. He's old, he's tired and he just wants to be done with this hell they call living. If he can just do enough good to see his family again, he'll be the happiest man in the world.

Jukka can be called somewhat bipolar. Or moody, depending on who you ask. Some days, he's a wise old man who just wants to repent, get rid of some of his sins. Other days, he's the Juggernaut, you can practically see the bloodlust in his eyes, dancing widly from man to man, calculating angles of attack, timings, anything really.

To conclude, Jukka is indeed a man of low intelligence yet of immense experience. He will do anything for his so called repentance, his flawed logic dictating that the more of those he defines as evil he kills, the more worthy he'll become. He does not and probably can not understand that he won't find absolution through his acts, be they good or bad but from within.

Until then, killing is his truth.

Biography

Early life

Jukka was born in the heart of winter, in a shabby ol' hut his family owned, last of four children and with a knack for eating much more than his share dictated. They weren't poor, being considered poor would be a blessing for their little struggling family since the frozen land couldn't give them enough to last a winter and there's only so much prey in the never-ending Everwood. Not that his father, Bjorg, would dare venture deep into the lands of the knife-ears although necessity did eventually make them do just that, with deadly results as his older brother Enki was gravely injured by a black bear.

His sickly mother, Noomi, died the following summer and a few weeks after her demise, her eldest, Sifkur, left their desolate little house wanting to find a better future. Anything really, would be better than that life.
Eventually, he was robbed and killed.

Jukka on the other hand, survived winter after winter along with his father and his sister, Ashelga. The blood of his ancestors was obvious in him, with his imposing physique and immense strength before he even reached 15 winters of age as he, like his father, came from a long line of warriors. He was well versed in the way of the axe and the sword, of shields and tactics in the battlefield.

Bjorg Fenrirsson

After all, his father Bjorg had shed blood fighting all kinds of enemies. From the patrols of Gaelia or Haedrion to bandits, highwaymen, monsters, innocents, anyone who stood in his way really. He eventually formed and led his own band of killers and thiefs and terrorised whoever he could, always careful not to annoy the Empires nor any force greater than his.
After a particularly bloody skirmish against a caravan though and a little more than three dozen dead soldiers along with many traders and the gruesome torture and subsequent murder of an influential noble's bride, his and his band's luck ran out. They were eventually massacred down to the last man by a professional mercenary company although Bjorg did manage to hide until it was all over, an act he never felt guilty of despite his countless speeches about honor and loyalty to his now dead comrades.

By age 17, Jukka was ready to either best the world or be bested by it. He knew that leaving his old father and his sister alone was most likely a death sentence but his ambition was burning far too strongly, he wanted to travel and he wanted to fight. He said his goodbyes, accepted War-Fang, a two-handed axe passed down for generations and went on his way with everything he thought he'd ever need, good knowledge of living in the wilds, a proper weapon and the skill to use it effectively. To be honest, in these ages, you don't need much more.

Pre-banditry

He spent many months as a hired blade, guarding caravans, nobles, livestock but never staying in one place long. He had a few good brawls, earned his fair share of scars and coppers yet he kept on moving, burning his money on women and mead, his downfall as it would prove later on.

A few good years later, having made a name for himself among commoners, Jukka had gotten cocky, a deadly trait for someone who bets his life on his blade pretty much daily. After one particularly heavy drinking session, he woke up covered in blood and two dead women next to him, a crime he didn't wonder whether he actually committed but knew that would end his life as he knew it. Soon enough, he was named a murderer and got a bounty on his head for two whole silver Dahls, a bounty he'd gladly go after if it wasn't for his own head.

The Juggernaut

Jukka, of course, wouldn't just sit idle and wait to be driven to the hangman so he became a bandit himself and joined the first ragtag band of cutthroats he found, not that he gave them much choice. After they fell apart, sometimes literally, due to monsters or men, he found others. Then he moved on to the next one and the next one for many moons until he decided to make his own, like his father, and earned his living by threatening, pillaging, murdering or just plain stealing. No one would really stand up to him or his men, they had surely earned their reputation as merciless.

The Juggernaut, they called him after he once impaled a man by charging him with his horned helmet. His axe was stuck on a skull and it was too late to draw his blade as the man was already pulling an arrow out of his quiver.

Bloodbeard, after he pulled his head away from that poor sod's innards. Jukka's usually light brown beard now had a deep crimson shade.

By age 38, Jukka's head was worth 30 silver Dahls. And he was proud of it yet the years on his back started to show their effects. He wasn't as bloodthirsty nor as cruel as he used to be. Hell, he even showed mercy on occasion. He'd prefer targeting bandits and gangs than villages and hamlets. His captains didn't take that well although none of them dare speak of betrayal, Jukka wasn't someone any one of them could best.

Erinya

On a particularly warm night, Jukka and his men raided a bandit encampment. Not too much of a fight nor loot but it would be a night to remember as that was the time he met Erinya, a woman the slain men had captured and quite literally used. She was in a terrible state and many of his men pleaded for him to just end her, knowing his brutal nature, yet she woke something in him he never ever knew before. He carried her himself and used every last bit of his knowledge about wounds and herbs to nurse her back to health. Minds though, he didn't know how to heal so instead of being the loud brute he was used to be, he remained silent and just listened. From her sobs in the middle of the night when everyone was asleep, to her curses and screams in her sleep. Not much else was said. He did offer her freedom but she had nowhere to go, her family had been slain. He offered her a place in any village she wished yet she wanted nothing to do with society anymore. So she stayed with him and as the months passed, they grew closer, a broken beauty like her and a beast like him.

It wasn't long before she bore his child and Jukka felt like a new man. She hated his brutish ways so he did his absolute best to change them. From being the scourge of those lands he was now protecting them. That, of course, didn't sit well with the rest of his men who called her a witch behind her back and were certain that their leader was under her devilish influence. So they planned and conspired for months, trying to figure out a way to break her hold on him while keeping him from turning against them. Yet they didn't get their chance as Jukka himself announced that he was leaving with his future bride and their unborn child, something which they accepted.

They travelled for days, to places Jukka had never been before, he always preferred the cold mountains and thick forests to the warm valleys. Yet he did it for her. They settled in a cozy little hut bordering parts of the Everwood he didn't know and that's where they built a new life for both of them. Jukka buried his axe and everything reminding him of his old life and she buried her traumas, to the best of her ability.

A couple of months later, little Hope was born, his daughter.
Shortly followed by Delph, his son and Hope's twin brother.

And Jukka was happier than he had ever been, holding his children in his huge hands. He was living a dream, the crops were good, the weather was nice and sunny and he couldn't get enough of his wife and his children. But dreams have a nasty way of turning into nightmares, sometimes, don't they?

Of Monsters & Men

Jukka still had a bounty of 30 silver Dahls. And his former comrades came in force to collect. He was out hunting when they fell upon his wife and took away her pride, her sanity and lastly, her life. They impaled her on a spear and left her outside their hut, the crying of her children an elegy for a woman they'd never really know.

If they had survived, that is.

Jukka always wondered who the true monsters really were. Was he better than the wolf or the wraith which lived by instinct while men chose to do unspeakable Evil. The smell of fire shook him down to his core. There weren't any settlements close enough other than his home. He ran through that thick forest faster than he had ever ran before and the closer he got the more he felt his heart sink deep into his chest. His Erinya was the first thing he saw. Then his burning hut and maybe, just maybe, he was never sure, his babies crying.

And an army between him and them.

He didn't hesitate. He still had an axe and a bow with him. The first three men to charge him fell dead by his arrows. He didn't wait for the rest to come, he charged them head on and let me tell you, that was a sight to behold. The Juggernaut, charging down against impossible odds. He never learned how many he killed that day or whether the blood dripping down his body was his or theirs. Or how many ran for their lives at the sight of the terrifying brute, screaming at the top of his lungs for vengeance and retribution.

He was only a man. And no man can escape fate. He fought through the agony caused by the countless wounds on his body until the first spear went through his guts. He still took the head of the one who pierced him. The sword between his ribs though rendered him breathless. The sight of his dead lover was the last thing he saw before the blackness took him.

He woke up a few days later, bandaged and sheltered amongst Elves, the knife-ears as he called them until then. One of their patrols attacked the bandits as they were ready to impale his body too and saved his life through witchcraft and the elven ways. He left them the moment he could stand and if not for Aunas, one of their trackers, he'd never find his way out of Everwood. He spent three days and three nights mourning his family, weeping like a child for the first time in his life. On the fourth, he set their funeral pyres ablaze and dug out his axe.

He spent the following year completely dismantling his former gang, leaving a trail of bodies behind him. He wasn't a man anymore, he could feel it. He didn't go after his men. He went after everything they ever loved, he knew them well enough to do that. Families, friends, inns they liked, hidden camps, everything. He murdered countless innocents before the fell upon them like disease. He left his captains for last and for three days they suffered at his hands. When he was done, he cleaned himself and drank more mead than he ever had, trying to lose his head with good ol' alcohol. When he woke up, he had absolutely no clue what was next for him, he was pretty sure that he'd die there.

But he lived.

Current days

He let his beard grow and got back in fighting shape. Sharpened his axe and looted the bodies for armor, not that it really fit him but he made due. With his axe on his back and an iron shield alongside a sword, he made his way home and took an oath in front of his wife and children to fix it. To become what she wanted him to be and be worthy of them, maybe in the afterlife. Seeing them just once more, would do, if he could only earn it.

He joined the Order of the Traveller, he always liked the stories about this God, he seemed the most human out of the many deities people put their faith in. After that, he simply did his best to help absolutely everyone in need. From plowing a field to helping an old lady with a rat problem. A fair amount of killing too but never against the weak, not anymore. As for his payment? A warm bed, food and drink. That's all he wanted.

As for coin, he looted those who had no use for it anymore and he let some street urchins steal it from him, acting drunk or just gave it away sometimes, to the widows. Not everyone lives, after all.

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Equipment: (Armor, Weapons, Etc.)
•War-fang: Jukka's trusty two-handed axe has served him better than anything and anyone else. An old family heirloom which served his father in countless skirmishes, probably worth more money than he ever had or will have in his hands. He treats it better than he treated any living being, carefully applying various oils on it or sharpening it or even training with it.
•Ironback: His shield which is almost his height in order to cover from his shoulders to his knees.
•Armor: Generic iron armor along with his infamous helmet.
•Weapons: Since Bjorg doesn't give just about everyone the honor of using War-Fang, a generic iron sword or an axe will do. He doesn't specifically care about these weapons as he usually loots the dead for better equipment. And valuables. And any spare coin will do really, mead is expensive these days.

•Misc: His flask made of bone, medicinal herbs, hunting supplies, various leather pouches where he stores money, valuables, trinkets and the middle finger bones of his family, like tradition demands, for protection.

Skills
•Master tracker when sober, quite a skilled botanist too.
•Has been hunting since he was 8 years old. Knows how to survive in the wilds plus he can deal with wounds. He is no surgeon but he can take care of his body.
•Battle-hardened veteran, you don't get to reach 44 years of age in his profession without being a damn fine warrior. Or one lucky bastard, both will do. He has seen things that would drive a commoner crazy and he has their teeth in his trophy pouch most likely. His experience against all sort of enemies along with his brutish strength and imposing physique make him a scary opponent for anyone in these lands and a really sought after mercenary by traders, nobles, anyone really. But, his drinking habits along with his somewhat troubling behaviour have made him starve more than once.
•He can empty a mead barrel in 270 heartbeats.
•Way of the Berserker: Jukka's unique battle form has been passed down his family for generations and allows him to completely give in to his bloodlust and battle rage, ignoring wounds, exhaustion, his physical limits in general. Combine that with his already terrifying physique and experience and you got an absolute monster of a warrior. Although, there are stories of him attacking his own, blindly, if he's not satisfied with the blood he spills.

Magic
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Misc

The Thaumaturge

Mivian "The Thaumaturge" Blueshimmer

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Age
101

Alias(es)
The Thaumaturge

Gender
Female

Race
Elf

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Personality
Mivian is the heiress of House Blueshimmer, one of the few royal bloodlines which survived the Desolation of Ter'Anel and the mass slaughter or enslavement of the Elf-Folk started by King Haedron the Accursed

Elven superiority
Throw humans to the sea
Reclaim the glory of the olden days
charismatic
in constant conflict
kind hearted yet traumatized
easily scared
being royalty, sheltered life

Biography
Mivian Blueshimmer is the heiress of House Blueshimmer, one of the few royal bloodlines which survived the Desolation of Ter'Anel and the mass slaughter or enslavement of the Elf-Folk started by King Haedron the Accursed hundreds of years ago.

She was born in Everwood

She's royalty. Many years of her life studying runes and their application on wounds and the like. Part of patrols until she was caught by humans and raped before her comrades could save her, kept secret. Joined the order in order to learn as much as possible about humans since she's the heir of her House and her voice will be extremely influential among Elves.
She will treat EVERYONE, part of her oath as a healer.
addicted to elven substance abuse
soft spot for children
deep trauma / was caught by humans once
has never killed

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Equipment
Runes
Bow
Silver daggers
Iron sword
healer's equipment

Skills
• Mivian, like most of the Elf-kin, is an excellent tracker and knows her way around Everwood far better than any human. She also is a great botanist.
• Decades worth of lessons with her father and her teachers have made her an above average fighter, be it with her daggers or her bow. She can defend herself in hand to hand combat against most combatants by utilising her years of training and her agility which is considered extreme even among Elves. However, she always has been a far better sharpshooter, like most who dabble in magic since the basic principle behind both magic and archery is tranquility and complete control over body and mind.
•Her revolutionary ways of utilising Runes in order to treat a wound, a disease or even perform surgery made her look like a miracle worker among her kin, giving hope where there was none. Thus, the Thaumaturge as she came to be known, is quite possibly one of the best healers on Erith.

Magic
Mivian uses Runes of all elements, mostly for treating her patients or anyone in need. While she can't physically support a Rune for more than 3 seconds, she more than makes up for that with her mental prowess, often driving herself to unconsciousness in order to save another life.

She has never used her Runes offensively as that would break the oath she took in front of her family and teachers, when she was finally ready to proudly wear the mantle of a healer. She fully understands that magic isn't meant to be used as a weapon but as a gift.

Misc