Exidus

Starlighter · Sep 3, 2017

[fieldbox="Jonas LaMonté, #3f759b, ridge, 6, Papyrus"]

~Location/Tags~

145 Lorem ipsum dolor sit amet, consectetur adipiscing elit. Cras lobortis, purus nec commodo cursus, erat felis ornare arcu, quis cursus elit ex non ex. Vivamus rutrum sit amet ante eu consectetur. Vestibulum elementum sit amet nisl at lobortis. Sed ex neque, cursus a lorem in, ornare pellentesque arcu. Integer posuere vitae dolor nec aliquet. Phasellus sodales ex in ipsum laoreet, vel consequat est tincidunt. Donec lobortis, turpis id vulputate hendrerit, nunc neque consectetur lorem, at maximus quam dolor nec felis. Donec pulvinar nibh est, in tincidunt mi ornare a. Suspendisse ultricies viverra mattis. Morbi consectetur magna sit amet dolor hendrerit, in sollicitudin massa semper.

145 Lorem ipsum dolor sit amet, consectetur adipiscing elit. Cras lobortis, purus nec commodo cursus, erat felis ornare arcu, quis cursus elit ex non ex. Vivamus rutrum sit amet ante eu consectetur. Vestibulum elementum sit amet nisl at lobortis. Sed ex neque, cursus a lorem in, ornare pellentesque arcu. Integer posuere vitae dolor nec.
145 Lorem ipsum dolor sit amet, consectetur adipiscing elit. Cras lobortis, purus nec commodo cursus, erat felis ornare arcu, quis cursus elit ex non ex. Vivamus rutrum sit amet ante eu consectetur. Vestibulum elementum sit amet nisl at lobortis. Sed ex neque, cursus a lorem in, ornare pellentesque arcu. Integer posuere vitae dolor nec aliquet. Phasellus sodales ex in ipsum laoreet, vel consequat est tincidunt. Donec lobortis, turpis id vulputate hendrerit, nunc neque consec tetur lorem, at maximus quam dolor nec felis. Donec pulvinar nibh est, in tincidunt mi ornare a.[/fieldbox]

[fieldbox="Lacey Silverstein, #9e9999, ridge, 6, Papyrus"]

~Location/Tags~

145 Lorem ipsum dolor sit amet, consectetur adipiscing elit. Cras lobortis, purus nec commodo cursus, erat felis ornare arcu, quis cursus elit ex non ex. Vivamus rutrum sit amet ante eu consectetur. Vestibulum elementum sit amet nisl at lobortis. Sed ex neque, cursus a lorem in, ornare pellentesque arcu. Integer posuere vitae dolor nec aliquet. Phasellus sodales ex in ipsum laoreet, vel consequat est tincidunt. Donec lobortis, turpis id vulputate hendrerit, nunc neque consectetur lorem, at maximus quam dolor nec felis. Donec pulvinar nibh est, in tincidunt mi ornare a. Suspendisse ultricies viverra mattis.
145 Lorem ipsum dolor sit amet, consectetur adipiscing elit. Cras lobortis, purus nec commodo cursus, erat felis ornare arcu, quis cursus elit ex non ex. Vivamus rutrum sit amet ante eu consectetur. Vestibulum elementum sit amet nisl at lobortis. Sed ex neque, cursus a lorem in, ornare pellentesque arcu. Integer posuere vitae dolor nec.
145 Lorem ipsum dolor sit amet, consectetur adipiscing elit. Cras lobortis, purus nec commodo cursus, erat felis ornare arcu, quis cursus elit ex non ex. Vivamus rutrum sit amet ante eu consectetur. Vestibulum elementum sit amet nisl at lobortis. Sed ex neque, cursus a lorem in, ornare pellentesque arcu. Integer posuere vitae dolor nec aliquet. Phasellus sodales ex in ipsum laoreet, vel consequat est tincidunt. Donec lobortis, turpis id vulputate hendrerit, nunc neque consec tetur lorem, at maximus quam dolor nec felis. Donec pulvinar nibh est, in tincidunt mi ornare a.[/fieldbox]

Starlighter · Sep 28, 2017

[fieldbox="Appearance, #473939, outset, 6, Papyrus"]

~Personality~

Zaxa is thoroughly consumed with selfish ambition; she is motivated exclusively by personal gain and achievement, and has yet to experience a scenario where she would not perform an action that would provide her with advancement. She is straightforward in her desires, and ferocious in her pursuit of them. Her actions occur in the moment, leaving patience and forethought somewhat lacking. She is confidant, arrogant, self absorbed, and often controlled by her emotions. Her temper is quick to rise, burns hot and long, and is not easily sated.

~Brief History~

Born in the slums of Coruscant to a new Sith Apprentice on an errand from her Master, it was a miracle that she ever lived. Her mother threw her in a garbage compactor, not an hour after she was born, and left her to die. Luckily for her, the compactor malfunctioned, and she was rescued by the technician sent to diagnose and remedy the problem.

The human technician erred to keep her rather than giving her up for adoption and raised her as his eldest daughter. A pacifist with a strong belief that all races and cultures were important and worthy of respect, her adoptive father did his best to raise her knowing her heritage and the pitfalls associated with it. She had little patience for such ideals however and rebelled against the peaceful morals that her parents tried so desperately to instill in her character.

At last, the struggle between the upbringing forced upon her and Zaxa's ancestral tendencies came to a head approximately one standard year ago when she killed her adoptive parents and siblings in a fit of rage. Satisfied to be free of their weakness holding her back, she absconded with the family's sole blaster and the entirety of their credits and made her way off world. Determined to follow the path of her ancestors and become a Sith, she dedicated her time to scraping together every bit of Force knowledge that she could and making a bit of noise to gain the attention of the Sith.

It took time, but at long last, a Trueborn Sith Lord took notice of her. Seeing her as someone he could manipulate to his own ends once she had acquired proper training and grown in power of her own, the Sith Lord saw fit to make arrangements for her to attend the Academy, planning to return to call in the debt owed to him at a later time.

~Other~

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[/fieldbox]

Stats:
HP: 5
AC: (10 + Dex + Armor value) 13
FD: (10+ Wisdom) 11

Strength: 1
Dexterity: 2
Constitution: 2
Intelligence: 1
Wisdom: 2
Charisma: 1

Starlighter · Sep 28, 2017

[fieldbox="The Path of Passion, #473939, outset, 6, Papyrus"]

~Location~

145 Lorem ipsum dolor sit amet, consectetur adipiscing elit. Cras lobortis, purus nec commodo cursus, erat felis ornare arcu, quis cursus elit ex non ex. Vivamus rutrum sit amet ante eu consectetur. Vestibulum elementum sit amet nisl at lobortis. Sed ex neque, cursus a lorem in, ornare pellentesque arcu. Integer posuere vitae dolor nec aliquet. Phasellus sodales ex in ipsum laoreet, vel consequat est tincidunt. Donec lobortis, turpis id vulputate hendrerit, nunc neque consectetur lorem, at maximus quam dolor nec felis. Donec pulvinar nibh est, in tincidunt mi ornare a. Suspendisse ultricies viverra mattis. Morbi consectetur magna sit amet dolor hendrerit, in sollicitudin massa semper. Phasellus nulla ex, tristique a hendrerit non.

Lorem ipsum dolor sit amet, consectetur adipiscing elit. Cras lobortis, purus nec commodo cursus, erat felis ornare arcu, quis cursus elit ex non ex. Vivamus rutrum sit amet ante eu consectetur. Vestibulum elementum sit amet nisl at lobortis. Sed ex neque, cursus a lorem in, ornare pellentesque arcu. Integer posuere vitae dolor nec aliquet. Phasellus sodales ex in ipsum laoreet, vel consequat est tincidunt. Donec lobortis, turpis id vulputate hendrerit, nunc neque consectetur lorem, at maximus quam dolor nec felis. Donec pulvinar nibh est, in tincidunt mi ornare a. Suspendisse ultricies viverra mattis. Morbi consectetur magna sit amet dolor hendrerit, in sollicitudin massa semper. Phasellus nulla ex, tristique a hendrerit non, ullamcorper nec leo. Integer bibendum nisi eu aliquet feugiat. Nulla non neque sed enim volutpat mattis. Curabitur eu lobortis ipsum

Lorem ipsum dolor sit amet, consectetur adipiscing elit. Cras lobortis, purus nec commodo cursus, erat felis ornare arcu, quis cursus elit ex non ex. Vivamus rutrum sit amet ante eu consectetur. Vestibulum elementum sit amet nisl at lobortis. Sed ex neque, cursus a lorem in, ornare pellentesque arcu. Donec pulvinar nibh est, in tincidunt mi ornare a. Suspendisse ultricies viverra mattis. Morbi consectetur magna sit amet dolor hendrerit, in sollicitudin massa semper. Phasellus nulla ex, tristique a hendrerit non, ullamcorper nec leo. Integer bibendum nisi eu aliquet feugiat. Nulla non neque sed enim volutpat mattis. [/fieldbox]

Starlighter · Sep 29, 2017

[fieldbox="Appearance, #c11d07, outset, 6, papyrus"]

~Personality~

Zaxa is thoroughly consumed with selfish ambition; she is motivated exclusively by personal gain and achievement, and has yet to experience a scenario where she would not perform an action that would provide her with advancement. She is straightforward in her desires, and ferocious in her pursuit of them. Her actions occur in the moment, leaving patience and forethought somewhat lacking. She is confidant, arrogant, self absorbed, and often controlled by her emotions. Her temper is quick to rise, burns hot and long, and is not easily sated.

~Brief History~

Born somewhere in the slums of Coruscant, the identities of Zaxa's biological parents remain unknown to her. She seemed to be hardly more than a few days old when she was found in a garbage compactor by a human mechanic sent to repair it. Her rescuer erred to keep her rather than giving her up for adoption and raised her as his eldest daughter. A pacifist with a strong belief that all races and cultures were important and worthy of respect, her adoptive father did his best to raise her knowing her heritage and the pitfalls associated with it. She had little patience for such ideals however and rebelled against the peaceful morals that her parents tried so desperately to instill in her character.

At last, the struggle between the upbringing forced upon her and Zaxa's ancestral tendencies came to a head approximately one standard year ago when she killed her adoptive parents and siblings in a fit of rage. Satisfied to be free of their weakness, she absconded with the family's sole blaster and the entirety of their credits and made her way off world. Determined to follow the path of her ancestors and become a Sith, she dedicated her time to scraping together every bit of Force knowledge that she could and making a bit of noise to gain the attention of the Sith.

It took time, but at long last, a Trueborn Sith Lord took notice of her. Seeing her as someone he could manipulate to his own ends once she had acquired proper training and grown in power of her own, the Sith Lord saw fit to make arrangements for her to attend the Academy, planning to return to call in the debt owed to him at a later time.

~Other~

[tabs][/tabs]

Items Lightsaber Forms Random

-Vibroknuckler*
-The clothes on her back.

*Disguised as ornamentation on her glove, see Random
-TBA
She intentionally contracted a contagious skin disease on her right hand, prompting the necessity of a glove to keep it from spreading further or transferring to others.

[/fieldbox]

Starlighter · Oct 6, 2017

ILIAS ARANTHON

The Fading Light
Age: 28

Race: Human - Maldviri Vindicator

Magic: Inner Light

Specialization for the Cult: Espionage
The ability to transport his soul over short distances allows Ilias a distinct advantage when it comes to spying. From strategic vantage points, he can observe events up close without being seen, search for signs of trouble or traps without physically endangering himself, and easily listen to conversations out of physical earshot.

Weapon(s) of choice: A staff used equally as walking stick and weapon.

APPEARANCE

Standing at 6'1'' with a weight of 135lbs, Ilias is the very near walking visualization of a human beanpole. He stands ramrod straight and dresses neatly, preferably in varying degrees of white. His movements and gestures are stiff and measured, with an almost irritating calculated precision. His limbs and fingers carry the bare minimum by way of muscle (as if to protest even bearing their own weight) giving him a semi-gaunt appearance at first glance. His eyes are a deep, warm brown offset by a naturally dark skin tone, and light, fine black hair. Not one to maintain a perfectly clean shave, he is most often seen with the tell-tale signs of a five-o-clock shadow.

HISTORY

Ilias never had the benefit of knowing his father, raised instead by a young, nomadic mother with a penchant for Shadow Magic. Most of his early childhood was spent traveling from one place to another, never settling down for more than a few months at a time. Bordering on neurotic even apart from Shadow Magic, his mother practiced with a greedy relentlessness, always pushing far past the limits of caution and lending herself to less than reputable actions.

When Ilias reached his fifth year, his mother reached her breaking point. In her last weeks, she returned to Maldvir with her son and made arrangements for him to be cared for by her cousins. While her intention was to leave and end her life quickly before her rabid use of Shadow Magic could end her, her time was gone and it took her all the same.

Throughout the rest of his upbringing, Ilias was firm in his resolve to follow in the opposite direction of his mother's ways. Having witnessed the corruption and agony brought to the world by the Darkness not only to those who made use of its power but those whose lives they influenced, he promised himself that he would spend his days eradicating it.

In his early adult years, Ilias pursued the life of a Vindicator with abandon, dedicating himself to the pursuit of a pure, vibrant soul to combat the Shadow he would face. When the alliances between Maldvir and Faledrin fell into place, he took advantage of the opportunity to travel to Faledrin with a few others contracted to assist with troubling scenarios involving Shadow Magic.

At the end of a year, a particular situation arose where Ilias suffered a difference of opinion from the official facilitating the duties handed to him and the others. Shortly thereafter, they parted ways and Ilias found himself working alone, chasing rumors of Shadow Casters that eventually led him to Windfell.

PERSONALITY

STRENGTHS

| Cautious | | Patient | Rational |

WEAKNESSES

| Passive | | Judgemental | | Closed Minded |

Ilias is a quiet man who reserves his words for what he believes truly needs to be said. Being passive and entirely non-assertive, he will often wait to offer his opinions until asked to provide them. He is calm and evenly tempered, taking tension and stress in stride. It is difficult to raise his anger, and simply a matter of asking to earn his forgiveness when wronged.

While he is forgiving by nature, he often harbors unspoken judgments of others, criticizing them by comparison to himself. He believes that all men have a far greater capacity for goodness than they typically portray, and is irritated when it is evident that a person is not endeavoring to apply themselves to the pursuit of such goodness.

Perhaps his most prized possession is his reputation. He cares deeply about how others see him and how he will be remembered and strives daily towards the goal of leaving behind a legacy of good character.

On occasions where he is asked to speak up or offer advice, Ilias is not one to sugar coat facts or ease the impact of hard truths. He is blunt and concise and would tell anyone who doesn't like what they hear that they should not have asked to hear it, or that being upset by honesty and denying the truth of it will not help them.

Contrary to what one might expect, he can at times seem to be more cynic than optimist. One might hear him profess such beliefs as that most men are inclined to be more good than evil, but less good than they should be. He also rarely assumes that people are likely to be honest or trustworthy, and is quick to note the extensiveness of their faults.

Windfell was not a nice city. It was cramped, dirty, it stank, and even on sunny days it felt gloomy and depressing. On this particular day, the pouring rain and rumbling clouds pushed the air of the city past appearances into a pit of mud and chilling damp. Despite the months Ilias had spent in Windfell, only rumors and hearsay of Shadow Casting had reached him. Every idle comment or detailed account led nowhere but to the most reasonable conclusion of lonely, self-depraved people leading dull lives and making excitement for themselves through danger that was not real.

Today, the common room of the inn where he lodged was filled with patrons in search of liquor to warm them from the inside as well as a roof and warm hearth to shelter from the rain. The crowded space filled the air with the musky scent of half-damp clothes and bodies washed in all likelihood most recently by the rain. Coarse laughter and the think-slosh of toasts banished all pretense of peace from the room. Ilias sat in the corner with a bowl of soup on the table before him, silently watching the occupants of the room while he ate.

The front door burst inward, ushering in a gust of cold wind and wet mist in the wake of a short, gangly man. He latched the door to shut out the harsh outdoors, eliminating the brief draft to restore heavy, warm stillness to the air. Ilias tracked the man with his eyes as he barreled his way up to the bar and elbowed into a spot near the bartender, loudly demanding a drink.

Quickly losing interest in another gutter rat looking for a temporary cure to his sorrows, Ilias returned to scanning the room. If the rain let up today, he planned to make a trip down to the harbor and inquire of any trade ships returning to Maldvir. The fruitlessness of his efforts to date was beginning to wear on him, and the urge to visit the family he hadn't seen in nearly two years grew strong with the passing days. Once rejuvenated, it would be time to return and begin the fight again.

A tankard dropping heavily onto the table across from him jolted Ilias from his thoughts. He looked up to see the man who had entered several minutes before inviting himself into the only other available chair. He propped it back, and raised his feet to rest on the edge of the table. Ilias straightened and leaned back, eyeing the man with a frown.

"Are ye from them Southlyn parts?" the man asked, taking a long, slurping gulp of his ale. He lowered it long enough to add, "Maldvir, is it?"

Ilias folded his hands, holding the man's gaze with an even stare. "I am." The man chuckled, taking another long sip.

"Thought so. I don't s'pose you be one of 'em - " he gestured with his hands, spilling a bit of ale out of the cup and prompting a curse, " - 'em sunshine dally-doers, er whatever they be called."

"If you are referring to the practice of the Inner Light, it is the practice of our people, yes. But it has little to do with the sun. Is there some way I can help you, sir?" Ilias was curious as to why this man wished to approach him, but if as he expected the extent of it was to poke fun at a foreigner, then he did not intend to encourage it further.

The man pounded his mug back onto the table and dropped his feet to the floor, leaning across the table with an angry flare to his features. "I jest been comin' from Caterly street. There me was, goin' about me business, when some god-fooled Tainted comes barreling down the street, hackin' n' slashin' at 'erryone 'e got close to. Some bloody fools got 'em down and turned t' normal looks, and we was right close t' beatin' the tainted life right out 'o 'is sorry hide, but one of 'em fools gets up an' flashes some fancy steel, and sends us all off." He leaned back slowly, shaking his head. "I cain't tell ya what them fools did with 'em, but" he slammed his fist against the hard wood of the table, shaking it hard enough to knock Ilias' spoon to the floor, "I ain't lettin' some masked fool bandits make off rescuin' some Tainted. Ought to die, it does" he added in a mutter.

Ilias bent to snatch his spoon from the floor, and dusted it off with his fingers before setting it carefully back in place beside his bowl. "You say you just came from there? How long ago was this?" The man shrugged his beefy shoulders.

"Not more n' an hour, I'd wager." Ilias pushed back his chair and stood, sliding his bowl of soup across the table to the stranger.

"I bid you a good day, sir" he said quietly, turning to take his staff and cloak from where they rested against the wall. Throwing his cloak around his shoulders, he ignored the man's protests and demands, making swiftly for the door with staff in hand.

He had business with a Tainted and the band of thieves that stole it.

Starlighter · Oct 11, 2017

To-Do/Fix-It List:
>Mobile compatability check
>Theme check

LUKE ESTLEY

"If seeing is believing, people might not be so stupid if they could manage not to look once in a while"

>Appearance >Personality >History >The Man in the Mirror >Skills/Weaknesses

Age: 26

Sex: Male

Height: 5'10

Weight: 178

Eye colour: Grey-green

Hair colour: Dirty Blonde

Build: Lean

Clothing Style: Casual

Luke carries himself like he's constantly cold, often keeping his head slightly down and hiding his hands in his pockets. While at first glance from a distance he might seem aloof, he'll usually smile and let his friendly side flourish when others approach him.
On a surface level, Luke enjoys the company of others; he appreciates a nice, light conversation and casual companions, and rather a long list of people would be safe to call him their friend. He, however, might not bestow quite the same level of feeling. While his companions are many, he considers his true friends to be a very select few. While his ability to make easy going acquaintances is quite prevalent, he rarely enters into relationships of true depth, primarily due to past experiences of being failed by those he trusted most.

Dependability is one of his foremost values; he expects it of himself without question and requires it of anyone who will ever have a chance at being truly close to him. He takes disappointment even on a small scale to be indicative of an entire lack of responsibility, and will rarely afford someone who has let him down with any kind of warm sentiments or second chances.

While not fully devoted to actions inspired solely on the whims of his emotions, Luke is acutely aware that logic has times and places where it is needed just as much as it has the same where it is at a disadvantage, and even unnecessary. His outlook on life and others tends to be somewhat bleak, but he accepts things for what they are without much complaint.
From birth until the age of two, Luke was raised in a highly questionable Russian orphanage. He was among the fortunate few to be illegally adopted into a home that improved significantly on his situation - albeit not perfecting matters. The American couple who took him in fell far short of perfection, struggling frequently in their marriage. Sadly, they failed to realize the added drain of raising a child until after they had also adopted a little girl in the same manner, Lillian.

Throughout their childhood, Luke assumed the high road while Lillian slowly but surely devolved into a life of adolescent crime. She barely made it through highschool before she was arrested during a drug bust, and found herself in rehab. A few days following this, Luke discovered for the first time that his parents didn't belong to him by blood - during the fight that finally sealed their divorce. The toxicity of it all was the last straw, and Luke finally bailed on the family that had failed him.

Halfway through his first semester at university, he dropped out and buckled down to get a job at a restaurant, far away from anyone he'd ever known in the hopes of starting his life over again and forgetting about the past - and, also avoiding deportation. For a few years, it worked; he rebuilt, he kept going, and he put it behind him as much as possible.

And then, after the Calamity that Wasn't, there came a Calamity in his own life. His sister got her life together and came looking for him, and all hell broke out of mirrors. When she finally found him, he'd gotten to a point where he had a handle on the disaster of a superpower that he'd acquired, but she brought an old set of problems straight out of the past: specifically, border protection.

So there he was, sitting on the literal verge of deportation when the Fuck Squad called.
Luke earned the nickname 'The man in the mirror' fairly early into his career at PRIT for how it quite literally applies to his powers. He can manipulate reflections, insert himself into mirrors/reflective surfaces and move around in them, and even trap objects or other people inside them. Some of his more memorable experiences upon manifestation include accidentally getting stuck inside mirrors on more than one occasion, leading to an inconveniently long debacle aimed at getting back out again. Such experiences quickly bred an innate fear of his own abilities, sparking more trepidation and angst regarding them than may have been reasonable.

For the first few months, Luke avoided mirrors and reflections like rotten tomatoes. Unfortunately for him, however, such things are rather inescapable in a world that likes shine and sheer. He was subject to rather uncomfortable accidents semi-frequently, leading to even further anxiety. Slowly, however, he was forced to learn by being repeatedly thrown headfirst into the deep end when he least expected it.

For some time, Luke found his own abilities more a nuisance than they are useful, especially considering their lack of practical application. Eventually, he came to a realization that changed this; as much as his abilities screw with him, with the right touch, they can screw with others far, far more. As frightening as it may be to inadvertently trap oneself inside a mirror, the human mind is far more likely to be broken by having its self-image shattered and replaced with something truly horrifying.

Understandably, such a skill would naturally incline to be more useful for nefarious purposes, but fortunately for PRIT, they got dibs.
SKILLS

Interpersonal Communication

Luke is good at getting his point across and generally handling the transfer of information between people and groups in whatever format suits the situation best. He is also able to explain things clearly and talk to anyone in a way that is easy for them to understand.

Diplomacy

Hand in hand with his ability to communicate effectively, Luke is also good at being the middle man when it comes to conflicts between those around him. While he won't intervene unasked, when he does step into a fight he has a natural knack for smothering the flames.

Menial Organization

Luke is nothing if not meticulous. When it comes to personal areas like his house or workspace, everything has a place and stays in it. He is incredibly good at cleaning up messes, and organizing things in a way that works well for their intended purpose.

Self Discipline

Not only in his dedication to organization, Luke is a very calm, self controlled person. He doesn't allow things to get the better of him easily, and when he sets his mind to do something, he will see it through. On the flip side, however, this does make him extremely cautious of everything he chooses to commit to.

Calligraphy

Although it may be a dying skill in the age of digital communication, Luke practices flawless calligraphy and cursive as a hobby. His handwriting is impeccable, not only easily legible but also rather elegant and pleasant to read.

WEAKNESSES

Uptight

At times he can overreact to those who lack his own sense of organization and personal control, leading to somewhat select tastes in the types of people he approves of. While not fully snobbish, he is overtly intolerant of others' inability to conform to his own standards.

Overly Critical

With a keen eye for flaws comes an inconvenient judgemental response, both on himself and others. While he will rarely be heard expressing the dissatisfaction he often feels at his own failings and inadequacies, he will semi-frequently point out those of others.

Unrealistic Expectations

No matter how impractical it may be to execute, he never expects less than absolute perfection. Over the years he has come to understand that others can seldom be relied upon to deliver, and while this doesn't stop him from demanding it, by default he anticipates disappointment with a somewhat cynical disposition.

Poor Adaptability

Being as stuck in his ways as he is, when change inevitably occurs in any area of his life, Luke has a tendency to avoid it as much as possible. He doesn't like it one tiny bit, and it takes him a long time to adjust to new things.

Physically Weak

Not leading a lifestyle that lends particularly well towards physical exertion and exercise, Luke is by no means physically strong. If anything in fact, he is considerably weaker than may be expected.

EQUIPMENT

Tools

A compact mirror, reflective sunglasses.

Starlighter · Oct 12, 2017

ILIANA DOROVA

"If anyone ever bothered to listen to the sound of their own voice, they might realize how irritating they sound and shut the hell up"

>Appearance >Personality >History >The Voices in My Head >Skills/Weaknesses

Age: 22

Sex: Female

Height: 5'8

Weight: 127

Eye colour: Brown

Hair colour: Blonde

Build: Athletic

Clothing Style: Punk-casual
(Doesn't have to be long or particularly developed, unless the character calls for it - really only required to put in things that are inferrable. Development and expansion through RP is the way to go, otherwise.)

Lorem ipsum dolor sit amet, consectetur adipiscing elit. Ut placerat aliquam nisl, in tristique sem mollis feugiat. Quisque vel tortor suscipit, pharetra neque a, mattis mauris. Mauris sit amet mauris vitae arcu sollicitudin vehicula sit amet a est. Aenean posuere neque eget erat dapibus pretium. Curabitur sodales auctor fringilla. Sed cursus pellentesque odio quis facilisis. Donec libero eros, efficitur venenatis ligula sed, commodo fringilla lectus. Quisque lobortis non dui sit amet efficitur. Vestibulum congue pellentesque tortor, sit amet condimentum sem dictum non. Nunc quis luctus ligula. Proin elit orci, bibendum varius ultricies sed, porttitor non nunc. Curabitur auctor quam accumsan hendrerit suscipit. Nulla vitae commodo turpis, in sollicitudin lectus. Fusce feugiat magna id ante mattis, sit amet viverra felis vehicula. Nunc fringilla tincidunt risus.

Phasellus eget vehicula enim, a pharetra neque. Mauris mattis vulputate diam, eget lobortis risus laoreet nec. Proin commodo urna ex, elementum porttitor nulla mollis nec. Cras ut magna ornare, venenatis massa vitae, rhoncus metus. Vivamus at nunc rutrum, rhoncus diam eu, fringilla arcu. Vestibulum eget fringilla nisl. Vivamus lorem mauris, suscipit sit amet tempor sed, porttitor id tellus. Sed ante ante, mollis vitae lectus in, commodo suscipit eros. Proin id nunc bibendum, congue lacus gravida, fringilla nisi. Aliquam finibus urna at nisl maximus, non porta dolor placerat. Nunc sed vehicula dui, ut imperdiet leo. Praesent vehicula sed dolor vel tempor. Cras a dapibus diam, eu pellentesque nisi. Donec ultrices est vitae dolor mollis, sed condimentum tellus vulputate.

In pharetra felis suscipit auctor sagittis. Cras ut sodales diam, sed pharetra ante. Mauris sed dui tristique, feugiat ligula a, aliquet ipsum. Nam id quam eget tortor malesuada auctor non a turpis. Nullam vel ex sapien. Praesent sollicitudin lectus metus, vitae consequat quam finibus in. Morbi accumsan sapien ante, dictum vestibulum libero rhoncus ac. Nullam ut justo sodales, pretium lorem non, volutpat mi. Vestibulum vitae mi mollis, egestas magna in, dapibus sapien. Nam id nibh tincidunt, finibus arcu sed, sodales nunc. Ut a orci feugiat, aliquet nibh a, vehicula enim. Suspendisse nunc lorem, vehicula at ligula at, convallis porta ante. Aenean pretium elementum urna, blandit dictum risus sodales vitae. In hac habitasse platea dictumst.
From birth until the age of five, Iliana was raised in a highly questionable Russian orphanage. She was lucky enough to be adopted by an American couple living in New Jersey, who raised her as their only child. Over the years, she never really found it in her heart to love and cherish the parents who landed upon her, for although they were incredibly wealthy and she spent her childhood years in a mansion surrounded by everything she could possibly want, the rarest item of value to be found was a strong family bond. Her parent's marriage began deteriorating shortly after she was adopted, leaving a young girl in a new country surrounded by conflict.

Into her teen years, Iliana took to the use and dealing of drugs to escape reality and inject something distracting into it. Shortly before her Manifestation, she was busted by the cops, and placed in rehab. Barely two weeks through her therapy, the incident with Jude happened, and she found herself struggling with the entirety of her mind becoming an open book to those around her. It turned out to be something of a mixed blessing, mortifying her stoney exterior while allowing those helping her to know everything they needed to.

Immediately after being released, Iliana set out to gain independance from her parents. By hunting her way through the illegal adoption records, she discovered her birth name and went through the hellish process of officially changing her name back. By the time she was through with it all, the less than legal aspects of it landed her on the PRIT radar, and she grudgingly agreed to assist them - but only because she needed a job. Eventually, she got hooked on the thrill, and decided against making a move to leave.
Upon Manifestation, Iliana was faced with uncomfortable scenario after uncomfortable scenario of others responding verbally to her thoughts or telling her to be quiet, or that she needed to get herself an oral filter. For some time as she grappled with the lack of privacy in her own mind, she simply believed that somehow, she had been cursed with the opposite of the ability to read minds - making her own thoughts transparent to those around her.

Then, gradually, she began to build her barriers. Once they were in place, she realized she could let them down at will, allowing a two-way street for her thoughts to flow into the minds of others, and for other's thoughts to flow into hers if they trained themselves to allow it.
.

Lorem ipsum dolor sit amet, consectetur adipiscing elit. Ut placerat aliquam nisl, in tristique sem mollis feugiat. Quisque vel tortor suscipit, pharetra neque a, mattis mauris. Mauris sit amet mauris vitae arcu sollicitudin vehicula sit amet a est. Aenean posuere neque eget erat dapibus pretium. Curabitur sodales auctor fringilla. Sed cursus pellentesque odio quis facilisis. Donec libero eros, efficitur venenatis ligula sed, commodo fringilla lectus. Quisque lobortis non dui sit amet efficitur. Vestibulum congue pellentesque tortor, sit amet condimentum sem dictum non. Nunc quis luctus ligula. Proin elit orci, bibendum varius ultricies sed, porttitor non nunc. Curabitur auctor quam accumsan hendrerit suscipit. Nulla vitae commodo turpis, in sollicitudin lectus. Fusce feugiat magna id ante mattis, sit amet viverra felis vehicula. Nunc fringilla tincidunt risus.

Phasellus eget vehicula enim, a pharetra neque. Mauris mattis vulputate diam, eget lobortis risus laoreet nec. Proin commodo urna ex, elementum porttitor nulla mollis nec. Cras ut magna ornare, venenatis massa vitae, rhoncus metus. Vivamus at nunc rutrum, rhoncus diam eu, fringilla arcu. Vestibulum eget fringilla nisl. Vivamus lorem mauris, suscipit sit amet tempor sed, porttitor id tellus. Sed ante ante, mollis vitae lectus in, commodo suscipit eros. Proin id nunc bibendum, congue lacus gravida, fringilla nisi. Aliquam finibus urna at nisl maximus, non porta dolor placerat. Nunc sed vehicula dui, ut imperdiet leo. Praesent vehicula sed dolor vel tempor. Cras a dapibus diam, eu pellentesque nisi. Donec ultrices est vitae dolor mollis, sed condimentum tellus vulputate.

In pharetra felis suscipit auctor sagittis. Cras ut sodales diam, sed pharetra ante. Mauris sed dui tristique, feugiat ligula a, aliquet ipsum. Nam id quam eget tortor malesuada auctor non a turpis. Nullam vel ex sapien. Praesent sollicitudin lectus metus, vitae consequat quam finibus in. Morbi accumsan sapien ante, dictum vestibulum libero rhoncus ac. Nullam ut justo sodales, pretium lorem non, volutpat mi. Vestibulum vitae mi mollis, egestas magna in, dapibus sapien. Nam id nibh tincidunt, finibus arcu sed, sodales nunc. Ut a orci feugiat, aliquet nibh a, vehicula enim. Suspendisse nunc lorem, vehicula at ligula at, convallis porta ante. Aenean pretium elementum urna, blandit dictum risus sodales vitae. In hac habitasse platea dictumst.

>Skills/Weaknesses

Starlighter · Oct 16, 2017

SKILLS
skill
skill
skill
skill

WEAKNESSES
weakness
weakness
weakness
weakness

Starlighter · Oct 19, 2017

SKILLS

WEAKNESSES

Starlighter · Oct 20, 2017

*Please note that due to this format being less condusive to the easy organization of a large amount of information, certain less essential details are not included.

Name: Luke Estley
Age: 26
Sex: Male
Appearance:[spoili]

[/spoili]

Personality: On a surface level, Luke enjoys the company of others; he appreciates a nice, light conversation and casual companions, and rather a long list of people would be safe to call him their friend. He, however, might not bestow quite the same level of feeling. While his companions are many, he considers his true friends to be a very select few. While his ability to make easy going acquaintances is quite prevalent, he rarely enters into relationships of true depth, primarily due to past experiences of being failed by those he trusted most.

Dependability is one of his foremost values; he expects it of himself without question and requires it of anyone who will ever have a chance at being truly close to him. He takes disappointment even on a small scale to be indicative of an entire lack of responsibility, and will rarely afford someone who has let him down with any kind of warm sentiments or second chances.

While not fully devoted to actions inspired solely on the whims of his emotions, Luke is acutely aware that logic has times and places where it is needed just as much as it has the same where it is at a disadvantage, and even unnecessary. His outlook on life and others tends to be somewhat bleak, but he accepts things for what they are without much complaint.

History: From birth until the age of two, Luke was raised in a highly questionable Russian orphanage. He was among the fortunate few to be illegally adopted into a home that improved significantly on his situation - albeit not perfecting matters. The American couple who took him in fell far short of perfection, struggling frequently in their marriage. Sadly, they failed to realize the added drain of raising a child until after they had also adopted a little girl in the same manner, Lillian.

Throughout their childhood, Luke assumed the high road while Lillian slowly but surely devolved into a life of adolescent crime. She barely made it through highschool before she was arrested during a drug bust, and found herself in rehab. A few days following this, Luke discovered for the first time that his parents didn't belong to him by blood - during the fight that finally sealed their divorce. The toxicity of it all was the last straw, and Luke finally bailed on the family that had failed him.

Halfway through his first semester at university, he dropped out and buckled down to get a job at a restaurant, far away from anyone he'd ever known in the hopes of starting his life over again and forgetting about the past - and, also avoiding deportation. For a few years, it worked; he rebuilt, he kept going, and he put it behind him as much as possible.

And then, after the Calamity that Wasn't, there came a Calamity in his own life. His sister got her life together and came looking for him, and all hell broke out of mirrors. When she finally found him, he'd gotten to a point where he had a handle on the disaster of a superpower that he'd acquired, but she brought an old set of problems straight out of the past: specifically, border protection.

So there he was, sitting on the literal verge of deportation when the Fuck Squad called.

Skills/Abilities:
-Mirror/Reflection Manipulation
-Interpersonal Communication
-Diplomacy
-Menial Organization
-Calligraphy

Starlighter · Oct 21, 2017

ILIAS ARANTHON

The Fading Light
Age: 28

Race: Human - Maldviri Vindicator

Magic: Inner Light

Specialization for the Cult: Espionage
The ability to transport his soul over short distances allows Ilias a distinct advantage when it comes to spying. From strategic vantage points, he can observe events up close without being seen, search for signs of trouble or traps without physically endangering himself, and easily listen to conversations out of physical earshot.

Weapon(s) of choice: A staff used equally as walking stick and weapon.

APPEARANCE

Standing at 6'1'' with a weight of 135lbs, Ilias is the very near walking visualization of a human beanpole. He stands ramrod straight and dresses neatly, preferably in varying degrees of white. His movements and gestures are stiff and measured, with an almost irritating calculated precision. His limbs and fingers carry the bare minimum by way of muscle (as if to protest even bearing their own weight) giving him a semi-gaunt appearance at first glance. His eyes are a deep, warm brown offset by a naturally dark skin tone, and light, fine black hair. Not one to maintain a perfectly clean shave, he is most often seen with the tell-tale signs of a five-o-clock shadow.

HISTORY

Ilias never had the benefit of knowing his father, raised instead by a young, nomadic mother with a penchant for Shadow Magic. Most of his early childhood was spent traveling from one place to another, never settling down for more than a few months at a time. Bordering on neurotic even apart from Shadow Magic, his mother practiced with a greedy relentlessness, always pushing far past the limits of caution and lending herself to less than reputable actions.

When Ilias reached his fifth year, his mother reached her breaking point. In her last weeks, she returned to Maldvir with her son and made arrangements for him to be cared for by her cousins. While her intention was to leave and end her life quickly before her rabid use of Shadow Magic could end her, her time was gone and it took her all the same.

Throughout the rest of his upbringing, Ilias was firm in his resolve to follow in the opposite direction of his mother's ways. Having witnessed the corruption and agony brought to the world by the Darkness not only to those who made use of its power but those whose lives they influenced, he promised himself that he would spend his days eradicating it.

In his early adult years, Ilias pursued the life of a Vindicator with abandon, dedicating himself to the pursuit of a pure, vibrant soul to combat the Shadow he would face. When the alliances between Maldvir and Faledrin fell into place, he took advantage of the opportunity to travel to Faledrin with a few others contracted to assist with troubling scenarios involving Shadow Magic.

At the end of a year, a particular situation arose where Ilias suffered a difference of opinion from the official facilitating the duties handed to him and the others. Shortly thereafter, they parted ways and Ilias found himself working alone, chasing rumors of Shadow Casters that eventually led him to Windfell.

PERSONALITY

STRENGTHS

| Cautious | | Patient | Rational |

WEAKNESSES

| Passive | | Judgemental | | Closed Minded |

Ilias is a quiet man who reserves his words for what he believes truly needs to be said. Being passive and entirely non-assertive, he will often wait to offer his opinions until asked to provide them. He is calm and evenly tempered, taking tension and stress in stride. It is difficult to raise his anger, and simply a matter of asking to earn his forgiveness when wronged.

While he is forgiving by nature, he often harbors unspoken judgments of others, criticizing them by comparison to himself. He believes that all men have a far greater capacity for goodness than they typically portray, and is irritated when it is evident that a person is not endeavoring to apply themselves to the pursuit of such goodness.

Perhaps his most prized possession is his reputation. He cares deeply about how others see him and how he will be remembered and strives daily towards the goal of leaving behind a legacy of good character.

On occasions where he is asked to speak up or offer advice, Ilias is not one to sugar coat facts or ease the impact of hard truths. He is blunt and concise and would tell anyone who doesn't like what they hear that they should not have asked to hear it, or that being upset by honesty and denying the truth of it will not help them.

Contrary to what one might expect, he can at times seem to be more cynic than optimist. One might hear him profess such beliefs as that most men are inclined to be more good than evil, but less good than they should be. He also rarely assumes that people are likely to be honest or trustworthy, and is quick to note the extensiveness of their faults.

Windfell was not a nice city. It was cramped, dirty, it stank, and even on sunny days it felt gloomy and depressing. On this particular day, the pouring rain and rumbling clouds pushed the air of the city past appearances into a pit of mud and chilling damp. Despite the months Ilias had spent in Windfell, only rumors and hearsay of Shadow Casting had reached him. Every idle comment or detailed account led nowhere but to the most reasonable conclusion of lonely, self-depraved people leading dull lives and making excitement for themselves through danger that was not real.

Today, the common room of the inn where he lodged was filled with patrons in search of liquor to warm them from the inside as well as a roof and warm hearth to shelter from the rain. The crowded space filled the air with the musky scent of half-damp clothes and bodies washed in all likelihood most recently by the rain. Coarse laughter and the think-slosh of toasts banished all pretense of peace from the room. Ilias sat in the corner with a bowl of soup on the table before him, silently watching the occupants of the room while he ate.

The front door burst inward, ushering in a gust of cold wind and wet mist in the wake of a short, gangly man. He latched the door to shut out the harsh outdoors, eliminating the brief draft to restore heavy, warm stillness to the air. Ilias tracked the man with his eyes as he barreled his way up to the bar and elbowed into a spot near the bartender, loudly demanding a drink.

Quickly losing interest in another gutter rat looking for a temporary cure to his sorrows, Ilias returned to scanning the room. If the rain let up today, he planned to make a trip down to the harbor and inquire of any trade ships returning to Maldvir. The fruitlessness of his efforts to date was beginning to wear on him, and the urge to visit the family he hadn't seen in nearly two years grew strong with the passing days. Once rejuvenated, it would be time to return and begin the fight again.

A tankard dropping heavily onto the table across from him jolted Ilias from his thoughts. He looked up to see the man who had entered several minutes before inviting himself into the only other available chair. He propped it back, and raised his feet to rest on the edge of the table. Ilias straightened and leaned back, eyeing the man with a frown.

"Are ye from them Southlyn parts?" the man asked, taking a long, slurping gulp of his ale. He lowered it long enough to add, "Maldvir, is it?"

Ilias folded his hands, holding the man's gaze with an even stare. "I am." The man chuckled, taking another long sip.

"Thought so. I don't s'pose you be one of 'em - " he gestured with his hands, spilling a bit of ale out of the cup and prompting a curse, " - 'em sunshine dally-doers, er whatever they be called."

"If you are referring to the practice of the Inner Light, it is the practice of our people, yes. But it has little to do with the sun. Is there some way I can help you, sir?" Ilias was curious as to why this man wished to approach him, but if as he expected the extent of it was to poke fun at a foreigner, then he did not intend to encourage it further.

The man pounded his mug back onto the table and dropped his feet to the floor, leaning across the table with an angry flare to his features. "I jest been comin' from Caterly street. There me was, goin' about me business, when some god-fooled Tainted comes barreling down the street, hackin' n' slashin' at 'erryone 'e got close to. Some bloody fools got 'em down and turned t' normal looks, and we was right close t' beatin' the tainted life right out 'o 'is sorry hide, but one of 'em fools gets up an' flashes some fancy steel, and sends us all off." He leaned back slowly, shaking his head. "I cain't tell ya what them fools did with 'em, but" he slammed his fist against the hard wood of the table, shaking it hard enough to knock Ilias' spoon to the floor, "I ain't lettin' some masked fool bandits make off rescuin' some Tainted. Ought to die, it does" he added in a mutter.

Ilias bent to snatch his spoon from the floor, and dusted it off with his fingers before setting it carefully back in place beside his bowl. "You say you just came from there? How long ago was this?" The man shrugged his beefy shoulders.

"Not more n' an hour, I'd wager." Ilias pushed back his chair and stood, sliding his bowl of soup across the table to the stranger.

"I bid you a good day, sir" he said quietly, turning to take his staff and cloak from where they rested against the wall. Throwing his cloak around his shoulders, he ignored the man's protests and demands, making swiftly for the door with staff in hand.

He had business with a Tainted and the band of thieves that stole it.

Starlighter · Nov 5, 2017

*

"May Our Fire Burn Forever" "Character Development": | Age | Gender | Height | Weight |

~Physical Description~

Lorem ipsum dolor sit amet, consectetur adipiscing elit. Cras lobortis, purus nec commodo cursus, erat felis ornare arcu, quis cursus elit ex non ex. Vivamus rutrum sit amet ante eu consectetur. Vestibulum elementum sit amet nisl at lobortis. Sed ex neque, cursus a lorem in, ornare pellentesque arcu. Integer posuere vitae dolor nec aliquet. Phasellus sodales ex in ipsum laoreet, vel consequat est tincidunt. Donec lobortis, turpis id vulputate hendrerit, nunc neque consectetur lorem, at maximus quam dolor nec felis. Donec pulvinar nibh est, in tincidunt mi ornare a. Suspendisse ultricies viverra mattis. Morbi consectetur magna sit amet dolor hendrerit, in sollicitudin massa semper. Phasellus nulla ex, tristique a hendrerit non, ullamcorper nec leo. Integer bibendum nisi eu aliquet feugiat. Nulla non neque sed enim volutpat mattis. Curabitur eu lobortis ipsum.

~External Presentation~

Phasellus sodales ex in ipsum laoreet, vel consequat est tincidunt. Donec lobortis, turpis id vulputate hendrerit, nunc neque consectetur lorem, at maximus quam dolor nec felis. Donec pulvinar nibh est, in tincidunt mi ornare a. Suspendisse ultricies viverra mattis. Morbi consectetur magna sit amet dolor hendrerit, in sollicitudin massa semper. Phasellus nulla ex, tristique a hendrerit non, ullamcorper nec leo. Integer bibendum nisi eu aliquet feugiat. Nulla non neque sed enim volutpat mattis. Curabitur eu lobortis ipsum.

HISTORY: EARLY CHILDHOOD

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ADOLESENCE

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YOUNG ADULT

Lorem ipsum dolor sit amet, consectetur adipiscing elit, sed do eiusmod tempor incididunt ut labore et dolore magna aliqua. Ut enim ad minim veniam, quis nostrud exercitation ullamco laboris nisi ut aliquip ex ea commodo consequat. Duis aute irure dolor in reprehenderit in voluptate velit esse cillum dolore eu fugiat nulla pariatur. Excepteur sint occaecat cupidatat non proident, sunt in culpa qui officia deserunt mollit anim id est laborum. Lorem ipsum dolor sit amet, consectetur adipiscing elit, sed do eiusmod tempor incididunt ut labore et dolore magna aliqua. Ut enim ad minim veniam, quis nostrud exercitation ullamco laboris nisi ut aliquip ex ea commodo consequat. Duis aute irure dolor in reprehenderit in voluptate velit esse cillum dolore eu fugiat nulla pariatur. Excepteur sint occaecat cupidatat non proident, sunt in culpa qui officia deserunt mollit anim id est laborum.

MID-LIFE

Lorem ipsum dolor sit amet, consectetur adipiscing elit, sed do eiusmod tempor incididunt ut labore et dolore magna aliqua. Ut enim ad minim veniam, quis nostrud exercitation ullamco laboris nisi ut aliquip ex ea commodo consequat. Duis aute irure dolor in reprehenderit in voluptate velit esse cillum dolore eu fugiat nulla pariatur. Excepteur sint occaecat cupidatat non proident, sunt in culpa qui officia deserunt mollit anim id est laborum. Lorem ipsum dolor sit amet, consectetur adipiscing elit, sed do eiusmod tempor incididunt ut labore et dolore magna aliqua. Ut enim ad minim veniam, quis nostrud exercitation ullamco laboris nisi ut aliquip ex ea commodo consequat. Duis aute irure dolor in reprehenderit in voluptate velit esse cillum dolore eu fugiat nulla pariatur. Excepteur sint occaecat cupidatat non proident, sunt in culpa qui officia deserunt mollit anim id est laborum.

CHARACTER: -General Personality Description
-Flaws
-Strengths
-Skills
-Inabilities
-Quirks
-Quote(s)/Opinion(s)
-Combat Preferences

ARSONATE: APTITUDE:
LEVEL:

TRAINING

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EXPERIENCE

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WRITING SAMPLE: Lorem ipsum dolor sit amet, consectetur adipiscing elit, sed do eiusmod tempor incididunt ut labore et dolore magna aliqua. Ut enim ad minim veniam, quis nostrud exercitation ullamco laboris nisi ut aliquip ex ea commodo consequat. Duis aute irure dolor in reprehenderit in voluptate velit esse cillum dolore eu fugiat nulla pariatur. Excepteur sint occaecat cupidatat non proident, sunt in culpa qui officia deserunt mollit anim id est laborum. Lorem ipsum dolor sit amet, consectetur adipiscing elit, sed do eiusmod tempor incididunt ut labore et dolore magna aliqua. Ut enim ad minim veniam, quis nostrud exercitation ullamco laboris nisi ut aliquip ex ea commodo consequat. Duis aute irure dolor in reprehenderit in voluptate velit esse cillum dolore eu fugiat nulla pariatur. Excepteur sint occaecat cupidatat non proident, sunt in culpa qui officia deserunt mollit anim id est laborum.

Lorem ipsum dolor sit amet, consectetur adipiscing elit, sed do eiusmod tempor incididunt ut labore et dolore magna aliqua. Ut enim ad minim veniam, quis nostrud exercitation ullamco laboris nisi ut aliquip ex ea commodo consequat. Duis aute irure dolor in reprehenderit in voluptate velit esse cillum dolore eu fugiat nulla pariatur. Excepteur sint occaecat cupidatat non proident, sunt in culpa qui officia deserunt mollit anim id est laborum. Lorem ipsum dolor sit amet, consectetur adipiscing elit, sed do eiusmod tempor incididunt ut labore et dolore magna aliqua. Ut enim ad minim veniam, quis nostrud exercitation ullamco laboris nisi ut aliquip ex ea commodo consequat. Duis aute irure dolor in reprehenderit in voluptate velit esse cillum dolore eu fugiat nulla pariatur. Excepteur sint occaecat cupidatat non proident, sunt in culpa qui officia deserunt mollit anim id est laborum.

Lorem ipsum dolor sit amet, consectetur adipiscing elit, sed do eiusmod tempor incididunt ut labore et dolore magna aliqua. Ut enim ad minim veniam, quis nostrud exercitation ullamco laboris nisi ut aliquip ex ea commodo consequat. Duis aute irure dolor in reprehenderit in voluptate velit esse cillum dolore eu fugiat nulla pariatur. Excepteur sint occaecat cupidatat non proident, sunt in culpa qui officia deserunt mollit anim id est laborum. Lorem ipsum dolor sit amet, consectetur adipiscing elit, sed do eiusmod tempor incididunt ut labore et dolore magna aliqua. Ut enim ad minim veniam, quis nostrud exercitation ullamco laboris nisi ut aliquip ex ea commodo consequat. Duis aute irure dolor in reprehenderit in voluptate velit esse cillum dolore eu fugiat nulla pariatur. Excepteur sint occaecat cupidatat non proident, sunt in culpa qui officia deserunt mollit anim id est laborum.

Starlighter · Nov 13, 2017

With the session ended for the day, Zaxani hesitated, torn between remaining to practice further and perhaps even trying to rope Primus into showing her a few things right away and returning indoors to pursue other matters. Turning and striding confidently towards the steps leading back down into the Academy, she made her up mind that there would be plenty of other opportunities to make use of Primus and what he could teach her. Before they came, however, she had a question that needed answering.

Unsure of where to go to find the person she intended to speak with - and loathe to search the endless tomes of the library despite their accessibility - she hesitated at the entrance to the mess hall. Perhaps she could ask someone there where she would find Drascar at this time of the day, or at least discern whether or not approaching him at all would be a wise choice to make. Further tempted by the aromas of a wide variety of foods, she stepped into the hall and made her way to the nearest dish. She gave it a sniff, and once satisfied that it smelled alright, scooped a heap of it onto a plate without bothering to check what it was.

Idly taking one bite at a time, she scanned the room searching for somewhere to sit and gain useful information. Her attention was drawn to the distinct form of the other Pureblood, who sat across from the lippy blonde. She had yet to formally meet of either of the two, and she was curious to begin assessing the strengths and weaknesses of the only other Acolyte here who possessed a right to it by birth. And, there weren't many other tables with open seats. Ignoring anyone in her path, she crossed the room towards them. At the table immediately behind theirs, she set down her plate on the far side, vaulted over, snatched the plate again, and slid into a seat facing the other Pureblood.

"Hope you don't mind me dropping in," she said politely, nodding by way of greeting to them both, and digging into her food with gusto with a gesture of her hand for them to carry on their conversation as before.

Starlighter · Nov 20, 2017

To Do/Fix-It List:
-Flesh out Personality
-Finalize Skills/Limitations
hex: #50f442

IRL INFO GAME INFO THE BORING STUFF

<Real> Name: Isaac Adrian Ziegler

<Real> Age: 23

<Real> Gender: Male

<Real> Appearance:

His eyes are a light, clear blue that tones well with his extremely pale skin, gained from a severe lack of sunlight. His hair is dirty blonde, and he has a slight build - he's tall but very thin and not very strong. He usually dresses formally in a loose fitting shirt and jacket paired with expensive shoes, regardless of the occasion.
<Character Type> Player Character
<Username> Castrys Versayn
<Avatar-Gender> Female
<Race> Gnome
<Tier> Advanced
<Primary Spec> Enthraller - Shaman (Flocks)
<Secondary Spec> Warrior-Druid

Avatar-Appearance

Castrys makes use of virtually no armor (with the exception of vambraces), dressing instead in furs and animal hides. Short of stature with a light but compact build, her pointed Gnome ears are usually hidden under the layers of her short brown hair and hood. Her complexion is quite light, contrasting her darker eyes and furs.
Equipment
Fishing rod & net

Hood, vambraces, boots, cloak, shirt, trousers

Water jug

Rucksack containing various animal training implements (which are actually toys for the more domesticated ones but shhhhh)

Blanket

Flint & Steel

Sling and pouch of stones

A knife used for practical everyday purposes with almost no use in combat
Additional Info

Castrys usually tries to keep a few animals around her at all times in case of an emergency. Most notably, she almost always has a crow perched on her shoulder or flying around somewhere nearby.

Skills/Abilities

{Race} The Gaze of Death - When she looks into the eyes of the recently deceased, be they beast or sentient race, she is unable to resist being drawn into a vision of their dying moments.
Limits: Unable to break the trance until the vision concludes.

Mythic Transformation - Castrys is able to transform into a fairly wide variety of mundane creatures - wolves, birds, felines, fish, deer, boar, etc. etc.

Alpha - After summoning a flock or pack, Castrys routinely transforms herself into the form of one of these creatures, and assumes the position of the Alpha in order to control their actions while simultaneously disguising herself as being indistinguishable from the masses.
Limits: Creates difficulty in controlling the creatures directly through telepathic pathways.

Bird's Eye View - Castrys is able to transplant her vision and senses into a beast under her thrall, seeing what they see and hearing what they hear. She will often use this technique to obtain information, or simply scout ahead.
Limits: Since she is unskilled at controlling/enhancing a single creature, she often ends up split between several different animals at the same time, which makes for a disorienting and chaotic experience.

Watchdog - A simple thrall to place on one beast or many, this results in the enthralled creature becoming protective of the Shaman. They will prowl for threats, intimidate any who come too close, and fight to the death to protect their Shaman's safety. It is also possible, although more difficult, to assign creatures to watch over certain objects, areas, and other people.
Limits: When Watching over others, the thrall will break if Castrys begins performing another thrall, or transforms.

Strength in Numbers - One of the easiest attacks for Castrys to throw at her enemies is an overwhelming flood of creatures swarming a single target all at once.
Limits: Only effective against a single isolated target.

Predator, Prey - For hunting, Castrys will often enthrall a creature that naturally preys on whatever she wants to catch, and when needed, enthrall a creature to be used as bait. If her desired catch is prey to an animal she is able to transform into herself, she will hunt it that way.
Limits: When hunting herself, she does not necessarily inherit all of the natural hunting instincts of her chosen creature.

Divide and Conquer - During a battle, Castrys will often direct either multiple flocks, or individual creatures within a flock to perform different tasks.
Limits: Cannot be done while distracted.

Distraction - The flocks under Castrys' control are easily directed to attack one area or target while she transforms and moves in for a surprise attack somewhere else, and vice versa. When using her Alpha technique, she will often move in for an attack while transformed, then surprise her opponent by taking control of nearby creatures and summoning them to attack from behind.
Limits: Fails when lacking the element of surprise, excellent coordination, or good responsiveness from the flock while she is transformed.
P ER S ON A LI T Y:

<general>

Isaac is generally very quiet and doesn't socialize with others much for fear of their reactions to his eccentricities. He can be comedically paranoid at times but despises being laughed at or made fun of. He has a difficult time letting loose and going with the flow, instead preferring for everything to be planned and structured in a way that is predictable and reliable.

He holds himself to high personal standards of organization and dependability, though from past experiences rarely expects the same from others, assuming that there is little chance of them coming through on promises made. For this reason, he typically aims to work alone in an environment he can control to his own level of comfort.

<strengths>

- Thorough to the point of extreme precision
- Learns quickly, minimizing the amount of time to satisfy his thoroughness

<flaws>

- Very indecisive/poor decision maker
- Overemphasizes the negative to a near handicapping extent

H IS T OR Y

As a young child, it was obvious that Isaac had mental issues. However, his parents were too poor and too distracted taking care of his siblings to be able to have anything done about it. He kept back from his family quite a bit, becoming almost an outsider in his own home.

At 18, he went to live with his Uncle, who was wealthy but estranged to the family. His Uncle was more than happy to take him in and supported him emotionally, but due to somewhat radical/extremist ideas that ran in the family, never acquired professional help. Isaac is currently applying to university, which his Uncle is more than happy to pay for, as he wants to see Isaac make something more stable in his life.

A few weeks ago, Isaac began dating a girl named Caitlyn, a foreign exchange student from Europe. While they held many interests and values in common, one love they did not share was that of gaming. Isaac held to being thoroughly grounded in the real world and its challenges while Caitlyn was wrapped up in flights of fancy and escapist games. With a little nudging and persistence, she eventually convinced him to give it a try and see if he could eventually come to enjoy gaming or not. Her brilliant strategy was for him to have a go at her favourite game - Altera. Unfortunately for both of them, the first day he logged in to play her character was the day the players became trapped.

Starlighter · Nov 25, 2017

A LA ETERNAL WIP

Elstia LeTrey

Age: Gender: Occupation: Species:

Personality:

History:

Equipment:

Abilities and Skills:

Strengths: Weaknesses:

Starlighter · Nov 27, 2017

*
JONAS ARMONT || CHEF EXTRAORDINAIRE

Medical Report

Age 28
Sex Male
Height/Weight 5'10 175lbs
Country of Origin France
Distinguishing Features (In case of postmortem identification)

Curriculum Vitae
Work History:
Personal Statement:
Notable Skills:
Notable Accomplishments: Has served in [insert notable hotel abroad], completed a robust culinary education, and been head cook to the house of an English Duke.

Character Assessment
Temperament/Personality:
Psychological Evaluation:
Possible Agitators:

Starlighter · Dec 15, 2017

-Single/solid background
-Border (grey/black?)
-Change to Red
-Font/Text
-Layout

Lorem ipsum dolor sit amet, consectetur adipiscing elit, sed do eiusmod tempor incididunt ut labore et dolore magna aliqua. Ut enim ad minim veniam, quis nostrud exercitation ullamco laboris nisi ut aliquip ex ea commodo consequat. Duis aute irure dolor in reprehenderit in voluptate velit esse cillum dolore eu fugiat nulla pariatur. Excepteur sint occaecat cupidatat non proident, sunt in culpa qui officia deserunt mollit anim id est laborum.

Lorem ipsum dolor sit amet, consectetur adipiscing elit, sed do eiusmod tempor incididunt ut labore et dolore magna aliqua. Ut enim ad minim veniam, quis nostrud exercitation ullamco laboris nisi ut aliquip ex ea commodo consequat. Duis aute irure dolor in reprehenderit in voluptate velit esse cillum dolore eu fugiat nulla pariatur. Excepteur sint occaecat cupidatat non proident, sunt in culpa qui officia deserunt mollit anim id est laborum.

Lorem ipsum dolor sit amet, consectetur adipiscing elit, sed do eiusmod tempor incididunt ut labore et dolore magna aliqua. Ut enim ad minim veniam, quis nostrud exercitation ullamco laboris nisi ut aliquip ex ea commodo consequat. Duis aute irure dolor in reprehenderit in voluptate velit esse cillum dolore eu fugiat nulla pariatur. Excepteur sint occaecat cupidatat non proident, sunt in culpa qui officia deserunt mollit anim id est laborum.

Lorem ipsum dolor sit amet, consectetur adipiscing elit, sed do eiusmod tempor incididunt ut labore et dolore magna aliqua. Ut enim ad minim veniam, quis nostrud exercitation ullamco laboris nisi ut aliquip ex ea commodo consequat. Duis aute irure dolor in reprehenderit in voluptate velit esse cillum dolore eu fugiat nulla pariatur. Excepteur sint occaecat cupidatat non proident, sunt in culpa qui officia deserunt mollit anim id est laborum.

Starlighter · Dec 15, 2017

Sitting along the ridgepole of the shop across the street from the Golden Retreat and scattered along the edge of the roof, a small flock of sparrows perched, chittering crisply to one another. Indistinguishable from the mass surrounding her, Castrys sat stock still with her talons wrapped tightly around her foothold, watching a wavering blur of patrons flow into the establishment sober and ebb out inebriated. She let her eyes close, allowed a few deep breaths, and waited for her focus to return. Searching out the fastest way to reach the Inn using the eyes of the flock surrounding her had left a mark of disorientation that her brief experience informed her would pass shortly.

After several minutes had passed, she was able to observe her surroundings with singular clarity, now able to distinguish one individual from another. A trio of whooping and hollering Orsi could be heard approaching from the head of the street, clearing a path for themselves to the door of the Golden Retreat. Upon collapsing onto the threshold, the rowdy three proceeded to drunkenly shout and fumble with the basic mechanism until they at last burst through, leaving the entry gaping open.

Silent as a leaf drifting to the ground on a breath of wind, Castrys dove from her spot on the opposite roof and darted through. She aimed upwards on the opposite side of the upper doorframe, fluttering quietly above the heads of the patrons towards the rafters. She alighted on a beam just above the bar that afforded a clear view of the happenings below, both behind the counter and throughout the room.

From her perch, she eyed the array of available options by way of beverages, but soon turned to silently observing the patrons. It was tempting to indulge in a little bit of liquid courage before the meeting began, yet upon further consideration, it seemed ill advised to enter into such arrangements while lacking in full mental faculty.

She eyed the mass of bodies filling the room carefully in search of the Man in Red, but a brief inspection revealed that he had not yet arrived. Among the crowd below her there was the odd face or two that piqued familiarity in passing, but ultimately, it was a tide of strangers.

What if Caitlyn knew these people? She cursed mentally. At this level, it was a near guarantee that the face of Castrys Versayn had at least some friends or relative acquaintances, but such certainty was useless as confirmation that any such persons might currently be present. The prospect of an awkward meeting with a person that she should know yet who remained a perfect stranger brought a shuffle and a shiver to the small frame of the bird form she currently occupied. Unfortunately, there was nothing within her power that could be done about it.

Barely two minutes had passed before the altercation erupted. Castrys hopped nimbly over to a beam that afforded a slightly clearer view, watching with growing angst as weapons were drawn and bystanders began to intervene - a veritable army of them, in fact. The display of chivalry was…. unanticipated, but heartwarming all the same.

Certain that any involvement on her part would either serve to exacerbate the situation or be entirely ineffectual, Castrys remained where she was, albeit ready to take flight at a moment's notice. It was abundantly clear that more than one of the knights in shining armor already involved were of a level significant enough to diffuse any violence - especially with their strength combined, although the usefulness of the tipsy elf may have been arguable. Nevertheless, in a moment's notice she could jump from the beam to the floor and be transformed in time to land in front of the white clad subject of aggression as a shield. Ideally, it would be unnecessary.

Starlighter · Jan 11, 2018

.

FLIES TO A FEAST

Brought to You in Collaboration with @Elle Joyner

As the line of horses entered the gates, Eifion took note of the singular representative sent to greet them - a gesture that hardly imparted feelings of an honoured welcome. While outwardly he did not allow his demeanor to show his concern at such a reception, it bothered him. If this was any accurate indication of the sentiment towards Islaryn that was felt by Thornwild as a whole, the execution of his intentions for this visit would either be easier or much harder than he had anticipated.

The streets cleared to make way for the entourage as they approached Danthos. Eifion reined in his horse, and those behind him followed suit to bring them to a halt. He inclined his head to the man sent to greet them and waited for him to initiate the process of formalities.

Irin was, generally speaking, quite a magnificent showman. There was a reason that he had been so entrusted by the King, and also why for so long, his own deceptions had gone unnoticed. He was, by all consideration, a markedly good actor.

As the prince and his men arrived, the advisor plowed forward into a deep, sweeping bow, bringing himself upright with a wave of his hand, "Your Grace... I apologize for so humble a greeting. I was only just made aware of your visit. Welcome to Thornwild." Eifion took a moment to glance quickly to his right, and after receiving a nearly imperceptible nod from Sai, he bowed his head politely and forced a fleeting smile.

"Thank you; it is a pleasure to be here. And I'm sure that under the circumstances you have far greater concerns than visitors knocking at your doors. You have my deepest sympathies for the loss of the King."

"I thank you. It is, indeed, a most terrible tragedy." Putting a hand to his chest, Irin nodded, "I knew His Majesty for quite some time, and his passing... it's still difficult to comprehend. Please..." He swept his hand behind him in a broad gesture, "Rest your horses. My men will take them to the stables. You must be exhausted from your journey. Do come inside..."

"It would be our honour." Eifion dismounted and passed off the reins to the handiest attendant, Sai and Jaren not far behind. For the older, larger man it was a bit more of an ordeal to make the journey from saddle to ground, and in the meantime Eifion allowed Danthos to usher him inside.

"I must apologize for the imposition; I would have sent word of our coming sooner, but I confess that it was not our original intention to travel this route."

A brow quirked, though in truth Irin was hardly surprised by the visit at all. Flies, after all, were quite predictable.

"No apologies necessary. You are most welcome, and even in such troubling times, we are honored, always, by the visit of such noble men. I take it, then, you've reason for this detour? May I inquire as to where Your Grace was headed?"

Eifion was forced to admit, this man was an excellent talker. He knew his way around a conversation better than most knew their own homes, and that was a skill he both envied and admired. And, to an extent, found irritating.

"Cain'loren" he answered, "I'm engaged to Lady Abrigel Baelston, and am traveling there to see her. When I received word of the King, we were already close and it seemed a waste not to visit and offer our condolences and support; I hope for the Council to be assured that our friendship remains firm despite the uncertainties Thornwild may face."

Irin bit back a smile as he nodded, "Cain'loren, hmm? A fine kingdom to align oneself to, I'm sure." As they entered the palace, he turned to the prince with a small nod, "The Council will be pleased to hear as much. I know personally, my concerns have been great that Thornwild will become a target in these trying times... Your support is most welcome."

Finally catching up with them, Sai Marca positioned himself near Eifion's side but remained silent and out of the way as the conversation continued.

"Undoubtedly a duly warranted concern. If they wish to hear it from me, I would be more than happy to assure the Council that so long as our alliances stand, Thornwild need have no fear of any threat approaching from the sea."

"I daresay they would be most relieved. I've only just tried to assuage their concerns this morning that we need review the treaties in place. I imagine your reassurance would be most welcome... And enlightening."

Sai Marca took a step forward then, glancing quickly to Eifion for approval before turning to Danthos and interjecting himself into the conversation. "We understand entirely if the Council is taken up with other matters at such a time, but would it be possible to meet with them to discuss such things while we are here?"

"Indeed... I can arrange it, personally. I imagine they'll be quite prepared to put aside other business to accommodate his majesty. It will take perhaps the afternoon to gather the members, but if you and your men would like, you may rest in the hall, until then. I will have food and wine delivered... anything else you require."

Eifion's expression warmed slightly. He hadn't expected it to go quite that easily, but all the better. Perhaps Thornwild was a better host than he had first imagined. "That sounds excellent; I am sure we will require little else."

Flies to the carcass.

"Very well. If you'll just follow me." The men were led down the length of a hall and into a room with a grand, sweeping arched doorway. The enormous hall was sparsely decorated, simple iron work and tapestries of a hunt the only company to a massive wooden table and the chairs that surrounded it.

Gesturing, Irin nodded, "Here you are, your majesty." With a bow of his head, he straightened towards the door, "I'll send a servant by with some fare and then see to the council. Please, make yourselves comfortable."

"Thank you; you really are too kind" Eifion said, making an effort to smile politely. He moved to take a seat at the table, Sai not far behind. He thought he heard the man mutter something quietly to himself in a foreign language, most likely to the effect of an assessment of the comfort of his chair.

Meanwhile, Jaren slowly wandered his way around the perimeter of the room, one hand resting idly on his sword hilt as he examined the tapestries, checking for anything out of the ordinary. Once satisfied, he returned to stand near the entryway.

Irin was gone for some time, and in his absence, several servants arrived, carrying trays laden with food, pitchers brimming with wine.

He returned perhaps an hour later, stepping into the room with an air of fatigue, "Gentlemen, my apologies. I've managed to convince the council to see you. If you're ready?"

Eifion was the first to stand, acknowledging Irin with a slight bow of his head. In all honesty, he was a little surprised the man had managed to gather the Council that quickly, not that it was much of an inconvenience to wait. It allowed more time to think about what he was going to say and to relax after the long ride.

"Yes of course; after you," he said, gesturing to the door.

Nodding, Irin turned and stepped out into the hallway, in front of the men. It wasn't a long walk - only a few doors away, another room waited, this with a similar table, round and surrounded by great wooden chairs. Six of these were occupied by men, a myriad of ages, though none younger than middle-age, each one wearing stern, stoic expressions.

As Irin entered, he stepped aside and bowed, courteously, "May I present his Lordship of Islaryn, Regent Eifion Valerys. And to you, Sire. The council of Thornwild. Please, gentlemen... sit."

Receiving a knowing look from Sai as they entered the room, Eifion straightened his posture and pasted on an entirely serious expression. He bowed formally as Irin handled the introductions, and assumed the seat most directly opposite the Council. Sai slowly maneuvered in to sit beside him. Rather than taking one of the remaining chairs, Jaren stood behind Eifion's right shoulder with his sword hand resting casually on the hilt of his weapon.

"My lords, you have my gratitude for taking the time to meet with me. I must apologize for the inconvenience of so little warning."

As Eifion sank into his seat, Irin followed suit, looking to the surly, solemn men across the way. There was a tone in the room, a sense of sobriety that only came with men far too overworked, too overwhelmed.

"No gratitude necessary, M'lord." One of the men answered, folding his hands before him, "I imagine you will not be the first visitor from afar to interrupt our convergence. I find myself curious, however, what it is we can do for Islaryn at this time."

Eifion found that forming a concise answer was more difficult than it should have been. For the first time since leaving Port Aryncair, he almost regretted coming here. He replied with as much self-assurance as he could muster.

"Our chief reason for visiting was to offer condolences for the loss of the late king; a terrible unexpected tragedy." He faltered slightly, unsure how to proceed from niceties to the real reason that he was here. Thankfully, Sai stepped in before the silence would be noticed.

"It also seemed convenient; we wished to assure your Lordships that we remain ever your steadfast allies. However, as there does not seem to be an immediate successor about to take the throne, there is naturally some uncertainty for us. There is no way to measure how an unknown ruler will handle the alliances of his predecessor."

Lowering his gaze to his hands on the table, Irin smirked ever so slightly, as the council members straightened, a throat clearing before the eldest of the small group spoke, an edge of irritation behind his voice.

"...I must say, I credit you for waiting this long, at least, to voice your concerns. Some of our neighboring kingdoms did not give so much consideration. How intriguing that our land has acquired so much attention as of recent... when we've had very little diplomatic stature, previously. Tell me honestly, young man... do you intend to bid for the throne? Is that why you've come?"

With a side glance, Eifion restrained Sai from answering for him. An intelligent man would have allowed someone wiser and better versed in the handling of diplomacies to handle such a blunt yet delicate subject or at least conferred with them to gain an opinion.

Eifion, however, believed that was only necessary if one did not already know what such a wise and intelligent person would say, and he knew that Sai would politely deny the claim.

He leaned forward, bracing his hands against the table and leveling his gaze at the elderly man who had spoken. Half a beat of silence passed before he raised his voice to speak.

"The thought has crossed my mind, I'll admit. But, I do not really know Thornwild, or her people, in the way that I know and am able to rule my own. I'm not about to waste my time making arrangements to wield authority over a nation that will crumble through my fingers. So, tell me...." he glanced at each of them in turn, inquisitive but firm. "In your experienced estimation, would Thornwild even take me as her king?"

While those around the table appeared to show no indication of having even listened to the younger man, the one who spoke smiled faintly, their fingertips tapping their chin.

"I appreciate your honesty. Most men would have balked at the idea... Suggested it to be unreasonable or show offense at having been asked. I find it refreshing that you don't deny the thought occurred to you."

Sitting back, he studied Eifion for a moment, "As for what Thornwild might do, I cannot say. We are her council, but her people have changed over the years. We've lost much, and I imagine they're ready for something new. I return the question to you, then... do you think you could rule Thornwild?"

Eifion's lips twitched with the barest indication of a smile. He hadn't expected that to go over quite so smoothly, rather anticipating much the same reaction from them as the Councilman had described most would give to their question. Perhaps this particular man was habitually forthright. It would be a useful thing to remember in the future.

"To be perfectly frank with you, I don't think any man was ever born or made to rule a kingdom, and yet we do all the same, despite being categorically predisposed to being terrible at it. I've had one kingdom land on me unexpectedly already, and it wouldn't be unfair to say that I've made a decent go of it. That success, however, was equally if not more so due to those who supported and advised me as were my own efforts."

He paused, drilling a firm gaze into the men of the Council who had been lacklustre thus far, daring them to speak up and challenge him if nothing else. "With a seasoned Council such as yourselves who know Thornwild and where she stands working with me, I do believe I am able."

The other faces softened at his words, and the man speaking smiled, nodding his head.

"Thank you. You've given us something to consider... I will say. There's little we can say for Thornwild's certain future... But you may indeed find yourself at the forefront. I understand you've business in Cain'loren. Are you aware they too have made motions towards Thornwild's throne?"

A sickening dread turned in Eifion's stomach. He'd heard rumors of course, but none of it had ever been fully substantiated. As much as it failed to surprise him, the news opened numerous avenues of political suicide if he made the wrong move.

"I am," he said with a nod, "Although I have had little time to explore the exact nature of their intentions."

The man smiled, faintly, and shook his head, "Then it seems as though you've some thinking to do, my young man. You'll need to decide which diplomatic moves are the most important for the future of your country. I don't imagine this will be an easy decision... And I don't envy you."

"No one with any sense would" Eifion answered, his tone bordering on dull. "I do assure you, however, that our affiliations with Thornwild are of significant import both to me, and our nation as a whole, regardless of our relations with other entities. Especially those with whom our position is not yet solidified. Whatever comes of our discourse with Cain'Loren, it will be pointless without benefit for our alignment as well."

Smiling again, the man nodded. "Very well, then. In two weeks time, we will play host to a memorial gala for the king. It is my hope that you would return then... As it seems we've some matters to discuss. But for now, it's best you see to your future bride. Thornwild's, Islaryn's and Cain'loren's futures may very well intertwine, Your Grace. Let us hope they are for the best."

.

THE FOOL AND THE FARMER
(PART I)

Brought to You in Collaboration With @Elle Joyner

The Fool spun in place, reaching up towards the coin flying in his direction, and snatched it out of the air between two fingers. He quickly rolled it over his knuckles before tucking it into his pocket and leaning into a dramatic bow.

He spoke with a flare of despairing drama, hoping that the subtleties of his accent would fail to show through and that the sheer ridiculousness would ensure he wasn't taken even a bit seriously.

"Alas, but for my humiliation to be deemed a low amusement for the eyes of noble men where I aspire to but a pure talent void of failure." He cackled gleefully, and simply for effect spun in a full circle while still slightly bowed, almost pretending that the man was no longer there.

He straightened slowly, peering at the man before him with a maniacal smile. No one ever ventured to approach him directly outside of his performances, and curious as he was about what this man could want, he was equally skeptical as to the nature of the intentions at hand.

A brow raised, and while it could not be called entirely amused, Jace's lip curved ever so slightly upwards. The Fool, for whatever he was, was good... And Jace could afford a man his due, even if he was unsettling to look at.

"...Not much difference to me, truth be told." He muttered in response, "Between a Fool and a nobleman, these days. Except one knows his worth, while the other only imagines it greater than it is. Haven't seen you 'round here, before. Not many come to this part of town on purpose..."

Terin sniggered gleefully, clapping his hands together and rubbing them together while rapidly tapping his heels against the ground - something like an overzealous child in a state of euphoric anticipation. He jabbed a finger in the man's face and quickly drew it back.

"I didn't say noblemen you dear darling daffodil you, I said nobler men." He sniggered quietly to himself again, allowing a moment to think of a proper justification for being where he was. It wasn't often that he heard idle comments demeaning the socially blessed, and when he did it occasionally led to more.... interesting talk.

"Oh, I move about, here and there you know." He stretched out his arm and walked two fingers up and back down it, imitating a torsoless running person. He lowered his voice to a hoarse whisper and shuffled close enough to just slightly invade the man's personal space.

"Lately I've been having a turn 'round the palace if you catch my jist. But see I find the more money a man's got, the more loathe he be to part with it, eh? So, now and then a man's got to graze in greener pastures, you see?"

"Once..." Jace continued, wrinkling his nose at the wagging finger, before brushing the back of his palm across the bridge, "Those two things coincided. A strange time we live in, that they no longer do."

As the man pressed closer, Jace didn't move, but for his hand, which very casually rested at his hip, where a small concealed blade would be his dearest ally in cases of trouble, "Honest labor isn't appreciated by those content to sit on their fat backsides, anymore. You're better tolling for coin in these parts, even if it's an odd sight to see." A brow quirked, he stepped back then, surveying the man curiously, "Not a friendly place, these days, the palace. I'd watch my step if I were you."

Feeling the need to move again, Terin danced lightly back on the balls of his feet, shaking his head back and forth just enough to get a slight jingle from the bells on his hat.

"The palace has friends for those who seek to aide her better ends" he chirped in a sing-song voice, coming to a standstill facing sideways. He turned sharply, tilting his head over to rest one ear almost flat against his shoulder.

"Even if they aren't keen to pay for it," he said, speaking more seriously, "Now and again they do enjoy a bit of a show, I think. They've not thrown me out yet, so I must not be doing everything wrong. I imagine it makes for a better story than I'd make on my own, perchance could it be, how a lad lowly as yourself is so wise on such matters?"

"Prince Jasper was my best mate, growing up... before those dogs in Bastillos murdered him." Looking to the jester, Jace frowned in thought, "I learned young enough you can't trust anyone with enough money to hide who they really are. Not all masks are as obvious as the one you wear, Friend."

Looking down the path, Jace frowned in thought, "How'd you like to make a little extra coin... hm? I might have a task for you."

Unable to help himself, Terin burst out in shrill, nervous laughter. The best friend of the bloody murdered Prince. He'd never have guessed it to look at the lad.

Calming himself, he nodded vigorously and gave the spot where he'd tucked away the coin thrown at him earlier. If there was more where that came from, he was all for it. Unfortunately being so far removed from his employers meant that receiving his wages happened on rather an infrequent basis, and if he could make a few extra coins on an errand or two, why not?

"As long as it's not enough coin to make me fat and lazy - got to keep a nice figure, you know - and not a chore that'll lose me any health, I'd like that plenty fine."

Chuckling dryly, Jace shook his head, "It's simple enough... There's a girl in the palace. The ward of the late king. Her name is Aeona..." Reaching into his pocket, he produced a small purse, and thumbing out a few coins, he held them to the jester, "I will double this, if you can get her out, safely, and bring her to the western gate of the city."

The Fool slowly wiggled his fingers out in the direction of the offered coins only to freeze abruptly, staring unblinkingly at the man offering them. "And might I be so bold as to confirm that her beautyness will anticipate an envoy of yourself to be sent for her?" he asked, a note of suspicion in his voice. If by some chance this man expected him to abduct an unwitting young lady, he might find himself seeking the uncomfortable company of Thornwild authorities.

Smiling dryly, Jace nodded, "She'll expect it. Tell her Jace sent you."

With a deft flourish, the Fool made the coins vanish, smiling perhaps a little maniacally. "Very well sir; you shall be reunited with your dear lady as soon as my poor self can contrive it."

"Just be cautious..." He noted, with a small nod, "If you must, abandon the plan... but it must be absolutely certain her departure is not discovered. When you've delivered her safely to the gates, I will award you another payment."

The Fool slowly rubbed his fingers together, nodding eagerly. "Yours truly is the very soul of discrete..... ness," he coughed slightly, then went on. "One last item, if I might add; am I simply to leave her at the gates, or will there be someone who shall meet us there?"

"Indeed. I shall meet you. Just wait by the gate until I arrive." Frowning in thought, Jace pulled a simple metal ring from his thumb, holding it to the Fool, "Give her this. She'll know it's me."

The Fool snatched the ring quickly from his hand, and quickly dropped his arm with an exclamation of surprise, pretending to have dropped it. He caught it easily, however, and cackled quietly to himself as he tucked it away with the coins. "Excellent, excellent, very very good. I shall see you in the short time then, yes?"

He began skipping backward, nodding his head to make the bells jingle quietly. "The gate with the pretty lady in a jiffy, yessir."

Watching the man go, Jace shook his head, hoping silently he hadn't made a mistake. When the Fool disappeared, Jace turned back in the way he had come.

.

DAMSEL IN DISTRESS

Brought to You in Collaboration with @Elle Joyner

Terin skipped cheerfully down the street, humming shrilly to himself on and off. It was practically impossible to go anywhere unnoticed, and he'd learned quickly that the way to make the most of it was to get noticed as much as possible. Heads turned and passersby shot him either irritated or amused looks, and he heard a child or two giggling off to the side.

He had quite a ways yet before he reached the palace, and hoped to have a decent plan in mind before arriving there. Equally important, however, was the matter of communicating what he had learned to those who would make use of it. He'd heard rumors that the Regent himself was coming to Thornwild, but as to whether or not he had arrived, he couldn't be certain. He sincerely hoped not, for if he was indeed here, that would place him in the very self-same palace that a young lady of interest needed extracting from.

And that would mean that if he were to fail on his mission and be discovered, the consequences could fall immediately to the Regent, who would in all likelihood be assumed as the originator of the plot, which would in turn generally not be a desirable outcome for anyone.

Well then, best not to make a mucky mess of it.

Through the last few streets before he began approaching the palace gate, Terin put together the essential elements of his plan. For now, the most important bit was to get the attention of the lovely Lady Aeona and communicate his intended purpose. If he could not attract her presence by way of his usual performance, there was a slightly riskier act he could use, though it ran the risk of being all too easily traced back to him once the Lady was discovered missing.

Regardless, there were the gates, and here was the Fool. It was time to begin. Slipping into a maniacal smile, Terin hunched over and launched into his most tried and true method of attracting the attention of everyone around him, without exception.

He began dancing and squawking like a chicken.

***

"Like a chicken! I know... I hear..." As Aeona passed by the younger serving girl, a brow quirked at the words that met her ears. The elder of the pair laughed brightly, and shook her head.

"Just dancing around, out there. Bloody mad, the man. I can't understand why anyone would want that sort of job."

"What sort of job is that?" She asked, and the women paused, turning to face her.

"Ah. Lady!" With a curtsy, the younger smiled delicately, "So sorry, Miss. Didn't see you there. We's just talkin' about the Jester's all."

"Jester?"

"Aye, Miss. By the gates... Dancin' like a fool."

"Thank you." Giving a nod, Aeona turned and with a curious expression, headed off in the direction the women had come from, oblivious to their continued chatter, as it turned to the topic of the Thornwild Ward...

Outside, she pulled her cloak around her and crossing the yard, she made her way to the gates, where she could make out the unusual noise... her eyes falling finally on the figure, dancing around with ridiculous airs.

Blinking, she paused and leaning up against the stone, she smiled to herself, before reaching into her pocket for a coin, tossing it to the Fool.

Amid the flurry of flapping and squawking, one might never expect the fool in the midst of it to be entirely aware of the onlookers. He saw a few trickle down to gawk from the other side of the gate, but it was at this particular point that he realized there was rather a significant problem.

He had no idea whatsoever what the lovely Lady Aeona looked like or any way to identify her.

His thoughts on this unwanted complication, however, were interrupted when he turned sharply and found a coin flying towards his face. In less time than most would take to blink, reflexes honed by years of precise practice regarding airborne objects reacted for him. Terin snatched the coin from the air much the same way he had before, and for the space of a moment, he was still.

When his brain caught up, he quickly recovered and launched back into the familiar routine, exaggerating it to distract from the momentary pause. He moved a little closer to the gate, mindful of the distance. On one rather memorable occasion, he'd gotten a little too cozy without being invited in, and it hadn't been particularly well appreciated by the guards.

He took a second glance at the young woman who had thrown the coin, and an idea struck him. A friend of the man who hired him was logically going to hold similar values and opinions, and this particular Lady was the only onlooker thus far to have thrown a coin. The rest were gawking and whispering, assuming him to simply be mad rather than to be putting on a skillful act.

So, he erred to take a chance. Maneuvering just a little closer still to the gate, he withdrew the ring Jace had given him, and with a deft flick of his wrist, flashed it briefly before the eyes of the young lady, pausing for a single beat to meet her gaze and give a slight nod of his head.

Aeona might not have noticed at all, had she turned away as she intended. It was hard to find joy in frivolous things, as it was, and most particularly with the darker tone the recent events had taken. But she was, if nothing else, polite, and he had put on a good show... good enough that she had thought it proper to reward him.

As it turned out, the reward was her own. She saw the flash, the familiar shape of the ring and her heart gave a start as she pushed closer to the gates, eyes widening for a moment. Prepared, fully, to convince herself she was mad... or desperate, she spotted the nod and gave up on reason, instead gesturing the Fool to a small door in the side of the wall, before making her way there, cracking it open.

Gracefully bowing out of his performance and allowing a few moments for the onlookers to cease their relentless gawking, the Fool approached the door and casually leaned against the wall next to it. He spoke softly, keeping his voice low enough to avoid catching any attention.

"My lady; I apologize for the unorthodoxy of my ah, 'entrance' if you will; but there seemed no better way to meet with you."

Looking behind her, ensuring at first that she wasn't seen by any wandering or curious eyes, Aeona nodded, smiling faintly, "It was clever... I might not have come, otherwise. Did... did he send you then? My Jace? Is he alright? Please say he's alright..."

He spoke slowly, focusing on keeping his tone level and speech free of silliness. Being as accustomed as he was to idiocy, it was something of a challenge to converse like a sane man.

"Aye, he was fit as a far away fiddle when I spoke to him not an hour ago. He sent me to retrieve you with all due haste... but I must confess that we may have some difficulty reaching the agreed upon rendezvous if pursued; how quickly will your absence be noted?"

Smiling then, Aeona straightened, "Not so quickly, I imagine. I anticipated Jace would take me away, soon... and I've been careful to keep myself to my rooms. They won't notice I've gone until supper time. But we should move fast..."

"Excellent, marvelous!" Clearing his throat to subdue his instinctive dramatized reaction, Terin turned his head to take stock of the street and their surroundings, then looked back to her and gestured urgently, reaching to take her hand and guide her through the gate.

"Now, if we're not going to attract notice, I'm afraid we'll need to do a little something about your appearance; if you would be so kind, I recommend that you let your hair down and mess it a bit."

Releasing her hand, he bent to scoop up a handful of dirt from the road, and smeared it across her face, dusting the excess onto her skirts and gown. "Apologies," he said hastily, "but fresh faces and clean clothing will attract attention where we're going."

Aeona made no protestations, as he moved to smudge the dirt, pulling the comb from her hair to shake it lose. She'd been all too aware there might be a need for discomfort, and it was a small price to pay, indeed.

Holding out the comb for a moment, she considered the gold and jade piece and smiling, handed it to the clown, "Please. For your troubles..."

Hard focused on choosing the most optimal imminent course to reach their desired destination, Terin broke his concentration to swivel and face the Lady with a quiet, "Hmm?" and then a surprised "Oh!" He waved his hands frantically in a gesture of refusal.

"No dreary dreadful dilly devastation no no no!" he exclaimed in a whisper, "I assure you our - ahem, er - mutual acquaintance has gone to far more than sufficient levels of due compensation, m'lady; and folly me, I'd be at a loss for what to do with such a familiar gift from a lady, no no no; twouldn't have a use for it, I'm most frightfully afraid...."

Laughing softly, Aeona shook her head, "I didn't mean for you to wear it. Please... at least take it. And if you've no use for it, you may as well just give it away. I won't have any need for it, where I'm heading. What you're doing... it... it's quite dangerous, and I wouldn't feel right if I didn't... Just. Please..."

Terin scowled, spinning the comb playfully through his fingers. With a flourish, he tucked it into a pocket disguised under a myriad of patterned decoration just above his knee, clicking his tongue in disapproval.

"Ah, well well; we haven't time to argue now, or we'll be caught before we've even done anything to be caught about."

With a flourishing gesture that morphed into a dramatic bow, he indicated a small side street. "If you please, madame, freedom awaits a-thataway."

Indeed, it seemed to lift Aeona's spirits considerably, and she followed the jester without another word, soft feet padding after him with an anxious swiftness. The gate was a small hike, but their journey went without incident. Upon arrival, a skinny young boy pushed off his perch and approached them.

"M'lady. The Prince sends his regards and 'pologies he can't be here himself yet. Got you a carriage though. And uh..." Turning to the jester, the kid fumbled inside his pocket, before handing over a small bag, "His Majesty asks if you would escort the lady out of the city. He'd like a word when he arrives."

Buried somewhere beneath the ever smiling facade, the Jester frowned. Thus far, his involvement in this matter had not had anything to do with any 'Prince.' He shot a brief assessing glance at the Lady, and noted that she seemed unaffected by the comment; meaning, therefore, that if she was expecting it, there was no cause for concern in regards to his immediate errand.

This business of getting in a carriage and escorting the lady further, however.... the man who hired him had contracted him only to bring her thus far, and at the moment he accepted the proferred coin and made it vanish into some invisible crevice of his costume, their arrangement had been fully satisfied.

He hesitated, sizing up the boy, mentally calculating the situation. His first instinct was to avoid attracting the attention of someone as notable as a royal; there could be dangerous consequences if anything were to go awry, especially if the nature of his true reason for being in Thornwild was discovered. And yet, on the other hand.... here for the taking was an opportunity like no other. The whole matter of spiriting away important young ladies at the bequest of a Prince veritably reeked of political intrigue.

Unfortunately for his more cautious side, aforementioned reek might as well have been blood to a hound.

Although it may not have been necessary, Terin delivered a low bow to the boy upon making up his mind. "But of course, but of course." He stepped over to the carriage to assist the Lady inside, then followed by joining her.

Starlighter · Jan 12, 2018

Ilias Aranthon

Ilias couldn't shake an uncomfortable sensation settling deep in his gut with the woman's distinctly bright eyes focused on him. Moving with the stiff reservation of practiced formality, he bowed towards her slightly before assuming the offered place at the table. "The pleasure is all mine, Lady Gema; thank you for your kind welcome." Despite the warmth of his voice, the greeting felt hollow. Lines of weariness were etched clearly into the corners of his eyes, and only by sheer force of will did he remain ramrod straight against the fatigue tugging at him.

Hesitantly, he glanced to Emrys, allowing a beat of silence to pass in order to see if he would further elaborate on introductions. When no immediate explanation appeared evident, he addressed Gema in a polite tone, making an effort to err more on the side of friendliness than aloofness. "I trust you slept well?"

While his outward demeanour remained nearly impassive, the slightest indication of a frown began to form, and he peered just a little closer at Gema's face than may have been in good taste. He could feel the Shadow in her the same as Emrys, dark and powerful. A force of evil. Any appetite he might have had fled as his mind wandered to considerations of the current situation - dining pleasantly with a pair of Shadow Casters.

In the interest of a higher purpose he reminded himself. And yet, he could only pray that there would be no judgement for whatever compromise he may soon be forced to face.
[] Effervescent [] Elle Joyner

Exidus

Consider this the hint of the century

Consider this the hint of the century

Consider this the hint of the century

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Consider this the hint of the century

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Consider this the hint of the century

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Consider this the hint of the century

Consider this the hint of the century

Consider this the hint of the century

Consider this the hint of the century

Consider this the hint of the century