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hello and welcome to the the thread where i post a thing and edit it into death (and still somehow manage to have embarrassing typos)
 
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TALES of TALVIEN: The Maddening Mist a medieval fantasy roleplay inspiration from the Pathfinder rule set and more!

PREMISE
It was just 12 years ago when the last of the halfling kingdom Nadever was drowned in a sick fog. A fog that, while it seemed like any other mist by appearance, was actually capable of driving those caught into a vicious and bloody rage. The afflicted could do nothing but tear at those around them and once there was nothing else to attack, they would turn to their own bodies. A gruesome fate, and one that the entire continent of Talvien believed awaited them, until as suddenly as it appeared, the fog halted its advance. It became dormant, seemingly content to settle on Nadever and refrain from spreading its torturous effects to the neighboring dwarven nation or elven clans.

Until now...​

Chaos. Talvien found its descent into madness all too quick the moment a young dwarven merchant caravan reported one of their regular stops on the surface, a tiny farm village, had been lost to the fog since their last visit. The calamity, the Maddening Mist, was spreading once more and if the technological marvel that was the halfling capital and all of its researchers and alchemists couldn't halt it what hope did the rest of the races have?

The dwarves were quick to close ranks. They fooled themselves into believing their citadel buried deep within the Iron Hills would be spared with some preparation. The elven clansmen and their nomadic villages had no choice but move further east and into human territories, inciting outrage from the peasants as they complain to their local lords about not wanting "no damn flesh munchers digging up our dead uns."

All the while a feverish nightmare plagues the continent come evening. None of the civilized race are spared from the dream of a haunting divine halfblood, calling out for help, crying for salvation. Between her seemingly universal place in the minds of the people and the second coming of the Mist, many are convinced without a doubt that these are the end of times. It has to be.

And yet...
There are those who refuse the chaos. Those who refuse to watch the Maddening Mist swallow the world. Those who, just like Thirteen had nearly a millennia ago, stand to face the unknown despite it all. Cadeira, the illustrious and ambitious lizard empire, has funded an expedition party. With the miraculous arrival of a mysterious young mage capable of moving himself and others through the fog unharmed, there comes a hope. A chance.

And you my dear friend are one of the brave (or perhaps insane) souls destined to help stop the madness.


LORE AND OTHER INFORMATION

History
A vast and ultimately unforgiving continent, Talvien is defined by bloody conflicts of far too many forms. War and strife has been wrought between the races throughout the years. The continent and the founding of its current kingdoms can be traced back to The Thirteen, a legendary and now timeless band of heroes. A millennia ago, the Goddess who's name has since been forgotten at the behest of the heroes who defeated her, brought life to the wastes and created Talvien and the races that inhabited it. She bestowed upon her creations food, water, shelter and the ability to think and therefore grow.

As free will has always allowed, it was only a matter of time before her grateful subjects turned to selfishness, conflict and debauchery. Centuries passed before war and violence took root in Talvien but it was inevitable. For awhile the six races fought against one another other vehemently, the Goddess unable to do anything but watch her creations slaughter each other, until in an act of savagery (or in the eyes of the offenders--liberation) the Goddess true children, the Celestials, were slaughtered.

The Goddess was thrown into fury. Into insanity. Using her immense power she erected an army of the fallen, the corpses left behind after hundreds of years worth of conflict risen to destroy those who had destroyed them, risen to destroy the races she had foolishly allowed to grow too strong for her to face on her own.

The six races; humans, elves, dwarves, halflings, orcs and lizards had to band together in order to stand a chance against their creator. Against their progenitor. Centuries worth of racial pride and prejudice were overturned out of desperation thanks solely to the eleven representatives that forced their kin to open their eyes and the two eldest celestial twins that saw their mother and their siblings descent to madness before anyone else.

Together they made The Thirteen and together they led the armies of their people in a holy war. Countless died but they fought with valor and with absolutely everything on the line. The conflicted ended with the Goddess' defeat and her incomprehensible power as the creator of the world separated equally among the heroes that led the charge.

The Thirteen opted to watch over the world in a way far less involved than the Godess had, leaving behind their racial forms behind and transcending into the stars where they became the new Gods of Talvien and its six races.

And as it always has and always will, the world moved on. Generations passed and the peace and cooperation between the races were destined to end. Now nearly a millennia later, the idea of the races working together is nothing more than a pipe dream. The elves and the dwarves have become isolationists with only a few outliers here and there. The humans and the lizards are constantly expanding their empires and pushing uncomfortably against the races around them. The haflings have been decimated by the Mist and the orcs are either in hiding, dead or enslaved by the lizards that they had gone to war against.

Talvien is splintered and shattered and there are those beyond the fog that intend to benefit from it.
Deities
THE THIRTEEN

OCTAVIUS
/ PATRON OF THE LAW / LN, LG, LE / MARTIAL - SWORD AND SHIELD
Before divinity, Octavius was a dedicated paladin born to defend the helpless and smite those who would harm them, regardless if it was their intention or not. He was the mortal human who stood in front and led everyone into the decisive battle against the Goddess. Godhood has done little to change his attitude towards honor and tradition and he blesses those who evoke his name to serve justice.

Octavius holds domain over: Law, walls, blades, and discipline.

SYBIL
/ LADY OF LOVE / N, CN, CG, CE / ARCANE - ILLUSION
Sybil was a powerful sorceress who's diplomacy and persuasiveness rallied both her human kin and united the mortal eleven when the Celestial twins came to her in hopes of an ally. Her bloodline is rich with magical power and her followers tend to follow in suit. Sybil's passion for love and life remains the central focus to those who follow her however, so the non-magical are just as welcome as the those talented in the arcane.

Sybil holds domain over: Free love, free will, magic and roses.

GARNAG
/ EMBODIMENT OF RAGE / N, NE, CN, CE / MARTIAL - ALL WEAPONS
Garnag is the most fearsome and most ferocious warrior of the thirteen, a slave turned gladiator and later--a liberator. Above all else Garnag values and blesses those who lose themselves in the fight, those who turn to instinct rather than training, and those who call his name while they charge.

Garnag holds domain over: War, feasts, wild beasts, and strength.

SAHABI / KEEPER OF THE DEAD / LN, LE, N, NE / ARCANE - NECROMANCY
Formerly a cruel but unmatched elven shaman, Sahabi both in divinity and before it forgoes her relation to nature as an elf to focus on the dead and the realms they inhabit. She went from overseeing the ritual and preservation of the graveyard of her clan to overseeing the plane of everest where all souls go when they leave the world. Those who follow this deity understand the inevitably of death and embrace in its certainty.

Sahabi holds domain over: Death, sleep, pain, and rest.

AKADUM
/ THE ALL-FORGER / N, LN, CN / MARTIAL - ALL ARMORS
Akadum was the prodigal dwarven smith whose armor could withstand blows from the Celestial, from the Goddess herself, and whose weapons cut the a new path for the world underneath the Thirteen and not the progenitor Goddess. Followers of Akadum are all craftsman of some kind and are incredibly dedicated to their chosen craft.

Akadum holds domain over: Creation, armor, hammers, and metal.

CADE
/ THE MIND ABOVE MINDS / N, NG, CN, CG, / MARTIAL - CROSSBOW
Cade Havernash was the halfing whose intelligence knew no bounds. His methodical battle tactics and stunning alchemical creations turned the tides of battle time and time again, even thought man was more than happy pursuing knowledge as opposed to using it to harm others. Cade's temples are more akin to schools and libraries than a place of worship. He encourages all forms of gaining knowledge and free thought in his followers.

Cade holds domain over: Intelligence, knowledge, alchemy and books.

OBANIR
/ THE TONGUE DRIPPED IN SILVER / N, CN, CG, CE / MARTIAL - RAPIER
Obanir was a lizard who's charm and wit was incredible enough to compel beast, man and celestial alike! Those who swear to Obanir are the people who see the value in words and relations and charm. They seek to talk thing through and gain whatever they want with just the right set of compliments and favors.

Obanir holds domain over: Speechcraft, diplomacy, written words, and social places.

ENA
/ MASTER OF THE HUNT / N, NG, CN, CG / MARTIAL - BOW
Ena is she whose arrows tore the world asunder, who rose from a humble forest to become the patron of all nature and it's more docile beasts. Followers of Ena choose to live away from cities and commune with nature, be they druids who speak to animals or hunters who understand and respect their place in the cycle of life. Followers of Ena place the most value on life than any other religious following.

Ena holds domain over: Life, nature, calm beasts, the fey.

SEBASTYAN
/ GUARDIAN OF THE LIGHT / NG, LG, CG / DIVINE - ABJURATION
Before divinity, Sebastyan was a beautiful young man and cleric who's honeyed incantation and unrelenting hope inspired the faithful and god. After taking a part of the original Goddess' power he has become the embodiment of light, its guardian, and the Faith of Sebastyan is one of the most prevalent, if not oppressive, religious sects in Talvien.

Sebastyan holds domain over: Light, holiness, warmth and goodness.

ERDALEH
/ KEEPER OF THE ARTS / N, NG, CN, CG / MARTIAL - DAGGERS
Erdaleh was a scaled and enchanting bard who not only fought alongside her brother and sisters in arms, but recorded it in songs and painting so that the world might never forget where it comes from. An increasing need of survival in Talvien has meant the arts have lost their place among whats valued and followers of Erdaleh seem to grow fewer and fewer each day.

Erdaleh holds domain over: Music, singing, painting, and dancing.

L'ÉTOILE
/ THE MORNING STAR / LN, LE, LG / DIVINE - EVOCATION
L'étoile was the Goddess' first true kin, her first daughter, and her first child. For centuries she served as her mother's righteous and unforgiving right hand and she would later become the only Celestial who knew her mother's fall was inevitable. L'étoile would go on to become a goddess herself and parent angels, divine beings who seek out injustices and correct them. Followers of L'étoile are steadfast, blunt, and have named themselves The Order of the Morning in her honor. They are particularly ruthless in their judgement and dole out justice in a way that some followers of Octavius might feel uncomfortable about.

L'étoile holds domain over: Righteousness, flames, order, and the sun.

ÉTOILE
/ THE NIGHT'S HERALD / CN, CE, CG / ARCANE - EVOCATION
Étoile is the younger twin brother of L'étoile and therefore the Goddess second true child. He was her free spirited and pleasure driven left hand and would later become the unfortunate father of demons when he tried to take on some of the Goddess' pain and insanity in hopes of trying to save his dear mother's life. In the end he worked alongside the Thirteen to stop her and thus earned his place in divinity, even if his older sister and Sebastyan hold him in distaste for his chaotic nature. Years of slander at the hands of the followers of Sebastyan and L'étoile alike as well as his ties to the nefarious demons known for leading mortals to awful deaths have made the followers of Étoile scarce and heavily judged if one if revealed to be one.

Étoile holds domain over: Pleasure, flames, indulgence and the moon.
Races

HUMANS are expansive, ambitious, versatile and heavily outnumber all the other races. They are second only to the lizards even though unlike their fellow races they are rather plain physically. What they lack in natural strength and abilities, they make up for with their determination and ideas. They are also the only race capable of crossbreeding though these relationships are usually frowned upon by most.

(Humans can have mixed breed children with elves, dwarves, halflings, demons and angels)
DWARVES are hardy, stubborn, industrial and defiantly proud. They've an extensive network built within the Iron Hills that's so developed and large that many dwarves go about their whole lives without seeing the surface world. Surfacers are usually looked down upon even though a large part of the dwarven economical success and security is thanks to their above-grounder's hard work.

They care little for interacting or dealing with the other races, too busy and too tied up in their own traditions and political storm to see what's wrong with everyone else.

ELVES are illusive and heavy isolationists. They are universally considered beautiful but also generally misunderstood/judged for their inherent fascination with death and the afterlife. They live longer than any of the races, their eldest nearing almost four hundred years in age before finally passing on to Sahabi's graveyard.

They live in, respect, and work to protect nature.
LIZARDS are aristocratic, haughty and probably the most openly racist group... though mostly because they are so assured in their superiority. They excel in just about every area, warfare and swordplay, magic and the arts, and they are naturally resistant to nature and sickness. All these attributes play in their empire's favor, the sheer power of the lizard race enough to force human, elves, and halflings into pursuing diplomacy for security's sake.

Lizards have recently overcome their orc neighbors and overtaken their land quite readily after a century long conflict in the making reached its boiling point.
HALFINGS are mischievous but undeniably ingenious little creatures. They've usually got luck on their side, but ever since the Maddening Mist, it seems like they have anything but. Most of their advanced technology and innovations have been lost to the fog, and the few Haflings that weren't affected are spread too thin across the continent to make a conscious effort to better their races statuses beyond unfortunate, intelligent refugees.

ORCS are bloodthirsty, direct and aggressive. They value strength both personally and strengthening their tribe regardless of the type of contribution. An orc who pursues an intellectual study is valued just as much as a warrior so long as he uses his abilities to benefit his tribe as best as he can.

Most orcs are either in hiding or enslaved however since their brutal loss against the lizard empire. They are the only race to have ever challenged the lizards head on.
TIEFLINGS are incredibly rare and the result of an unholy communion with a human and a demon. They share many traits with your typical human but there is an inherent duality with a more fiendish being within them, depending on the kind of demon that fathered them all Tieflings struggle to control their urge to satiate a certain pleasure, most often give in and develop infamy for their actions.

Tieflings can have unusually colored skin, unusually colored eyes, horns, and a tail. They usually have at least one of these attributes.
AASIMARS are also incredibly rare but are actually a result of a rather unlikely communion between a human and an angel. Like tieflings, they are quite human with the exception of a desire to exact or display or demand the chosen virtue of the angel that parented them. Many become paladins and clerics for the holier deities.

Assimars usually have unusually colored hair and glowing eyes. Very rarely do they possess wings and when they do, they're often a target of blackmarket dealers with clients who will pay a heavy sum for this defining feature.
(NPC) ANGELS are lawful, merciless creatures that pursue and enforce their virtue of choice. They are not playable.

(NPC) DEMONS are chaotic, unpredictable creatures that pursue and draw people to their pleasure of choice--more often into unhealthy excess.
Map
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Plain for clarity's sake. Will be updated as the group finds more and more locations.
LOCATIONS OF NOTE:
THE WHITE ISLE is an unexplored island just off the coast of the rest of Talvien. Its named after the everlasting blizzard that shrouds the island. Time and time again adventurerers have set off for its mysterious shores and time time again the cold storm has ripped their expedition to shreds.

THE KALESHIAN EMPIRE is the expansive and fruitful land of all lizards. The empire started as a thin strip along the southern coast and has since expanded northwards into orc territory. Cadeira is the nation's capital and it is a sprawling metropolis spreading from a central palace. The land is ruled by Ashara--a cutthroat but intoxicatingly persuasive politician who finessed her way to empress. She rules alongside a board of senators, said senators having their own estates across the empire's reach.

THE NORTHERN SHELF is the last stand of the orc tribes. Formerly a sacred mountain range where orc shamans prayed and worshipped Garnag, it has since become the race's last bastion against the lizards. The orc's knowledge and familiarity of the terrain have made it too difficult for the lizards to finish their conquest so the latter is more than happy to let them stay freezing in the north while they enjoy the benefits of the their newly acquired lands.

THE THIRTEEN'S TRIUMPH is the only neutral land in all of Talvien. It is the site of the Thirteen's war against the goddess and is characterized by series of rough mountain tops. A monastery has been built here to serve as a neutral space for the rulers of the land to meet and discuss Talvien's future. It has been many years since such a diplomatic boon was utilized.

DELPHINE, DOROTHEA, AND DIANE are the three human nations that hold Talvien's north. They are ruled by three noble families that, despite their differences, cooperate well with each other. House Dorothea is the cultural capital of Talvien where taverns, brothels and dance halls are around every corner. House Delphine sits on bountiful land and supplies enough resources for itself and its two sister nations. Diane is the human's military stronghold and their rather isolated position has promoted racism against the others of Talvien for far too many centuries.

NATURE'S THROAT refers to the lands of Talvien that have remained untamed and wild. Beasts roam here and the two natives to the area--the dwarves and the elves--are far too concerned with their own societies to bother with enforcing law and civility. The throat is no man's land and one that requires you to be strong in order to survive the local animals, bandits and even fauna.

THE FOG'S HOLD is the title the former halfling kingdom has taken. It has been decades since anyone has stepped foot in the hold and returned sane enough to tell of what they saw. There is no way to know what or who might lurk in the mist.
Magic

BASICS
There are two types of casters in Talvien. The ARCANE who derive power from personality and birthright and the DIVINE who evoke either L'etoile or Sebastyan in order to cast down holy fire/mend wounds. The Arcane are incredibly more versatile than their counterparts but have been on the receiving end of centuries worth of slander and defamation from clerics. It's gotten to the point that nobody in a village would bat an eye at a travelling cleric magically healing wounds but the moment a sorceress does something as simple as cause flowers to grow exponentially, the dirty looks and whispering will commence. In the worse case, so will torches and pitch forks.
ARCANE
Arcane magic is a natural occurring phenomenon believed to be passed from person to person through bloodlines. Such power was distinctly rare a millennia ago but due to the teachings of Sybil and those who followed them, such magic takes root in more family lines each and every generation. Still, the arcane blooded makes up a small portion of the general population.

The magical ability available to a sorcerer/sorceress is dependent on the magical being that tainted their blood at some prior point in history.

All arcane magic users experience the same physical and mental cost of casting however. Repeated spell use will not only cause physical exhaustion, but if driven to an extreme point, the loss of one's sanity. Such a level of abuse is not recoverable and many asylums (and graveyards) house mages who did not respect boundaries/were not trained to exhibit self control.
DIVINE
Divine magic is a product of reverent prayer and devotion to either Sebastyan or L'etoile. Those who follow the former are capable of healing wounds, lighting the dark path before them, and instilling the likes of hope and calmness in their allies. Those who follow the latter are much more offensive comparatively. L'etoile's followers are capable of evoking fireballs, spraying flames from their hands and mouth, and are particularly potent against the undead or demonic.
Bloodlines
AASIMARS
"Aasimars are humans with a significant amount of celestial or other good outsider blood in their ancestry. While not always benevolent, aasimars are more inclined toward acts of kindness rather than evil. It must be acknowledged that some aasimars take advantage of the reputation of their kind, brutally subverting the expectations of others with acts of terrifying cruelty or abject venality."

The following bloodlines are available for Aasimars:

Angelkin (Angel-Blooded): Angelkin are mortal paragons of exceptional beauty, and they serve as exemplars of good and light regardless of the myriad forms they may take.

Emberkin (Peri-Blooded): Emberkin feel the dual pull of their peri forebear as well as that of a fallen angel further down their ancestry, and wrestle with their urges to do both good and evil.

Idyllkin (Agathion-Blooded): Idyllkin possess bestial aspects and calm dispositions, and often act as peaceful intermediaries between lawful and chaotic agent of good.

Lawbringer (Archon-Blooded): Lawbringers are champions of justice and of doling out punishment to the wicked, and often believe chaos is the cause of all mortal suffering.

Musetouched (Azata-Blooded): The musetouched epitomize freedom and joy, and travel the world to liberate less fortunate individuals.

TIEFLINGS
"Simultaneously more and less than mortal, tieflings are the offspring of humans and fiends. With otherworldly blood and traits to match, tieflings are often shunned and despised out of reactionary fear. Despite their fiendish appearance and netherworld origins, tieflings have a human's capacity of choosing their fate, and while many embrace their dark heritage and side with fiendish powers, others reject their darker predilections."

The following bloodlines are available for Tieflings:

Beastbrood (Rakshasa-Spawn): Beastbrood regard themselves as deserving of appreciation and opulence. Through deceit and sheer willpower, they often achieve privileged stations in society.

Faultspawn (Asura-Spawn): Lacking any sense of empathy or pity, faultspawn often abhor all ways of life but their own. They inflict severe emotional and physical pain on others, and never stop picking at the resulting psychological scars.

Foulspawn (Demodand-Spawn): Crude and boorish, foulspawn take a particular delight in giving offence and scandalising polite society. They enjoy violating taboos even more than breaking laws, especially if it means degrading or repulsing an innocent.

Grimspawn (Daemon-Spawn): Dreary and pessimistic, grimspawn are so enthralled by death, disease, and dilapidation that they often dedicate themselves to ending lives from behind the scenes as macabre saboteurs.

Hellspawn (Devil-Spawn): While often rigid, stubborn, and highly focused on sticking to plans and schedules, hellspawn also have a rare talent for penetrating others' facades. They know a lie when they hear one, and can often determine what hidden vice or secret shame motivates another.

Motherless (Qlippoth-Spawn): No woman survives the birth of a babe whose qlippoth ancestry has emerged. At best, qlippoth-spawn rip their mothers apart during labor. At worst, they tear themselves out even earlier.

Pitborn (Demon-Spawn): Pitborn delight in destruction, especially while unleashing their havoc on what others consider valuable or precious.

ARCANE
"Scions of innately magical bloodlines, the spawn of monsters, pawns of fate and destiny, or simply flukes of fickle magic, sorcerers look within themselves for arcane prowess and draw forth might few mortals can imagine. Emboldened by lives ever threatening to be consumed by their innate powers, these magic-touched souls endlessly indulge in and refine their mysterious abilities, gradually learning how to harness their birthright and coax forth ever greater arcane feats.

Arcane Bloodline: Those of this bloodline (with great effort) can trace their roots all the way back to Sybil herself. They retain her natural inclination towards magic that manipulates the mind. Arcane sorcerers are capable of weaving confusing images, granting invisibility, and can even create phantoms to baffle and vex their foes.

Draconic Bloodline: The sorcerers who find themselves with a rather unnatural endurance and hardiness than other arcane magic users can attribute their longevity to the dragons of old having tainted their family bloodline. Their skin is harder, their blows are stronger, and they are the least likely of all the lines to lose themselves to mania. Depending on the color of the dragon that affected your ancestors, you can cast elemental spells of a specific element (but not to the potency of an Elemental bloodline sorcerer).

Elemental Bloodline: Elemental bloodline sorcerers have the power of the elements within them and at times can hardly control it's raw power at times. This ability comes from a time in one's history where their relatives were exposed to a powerful elemental force. This bloodline can evoke fireballs, shooting rays of frost from their hands and call down lighting to strike those who get in their way.

Serpentine Bloodline: Those with the blood of the serpent are gifted with cold cunning and an affinity for subtle manipulation. Deception and mesmeric charm are their birthright, but there is an inherent duality with serpent bloods that make it difficult for them to be genuine or vulnerable. Serpent blooded sorcerers are capable of affecting, confusing and even controlling the mind. Unlike most bloodlines though, physical touch is required. This bloodline is very rarely found outside of the lizard race.

Fey Bloodline: Sorcerers who are fey blooded are far more emotional and impulsive than the other lines. They can seem childish at times but usually mean well. They are also equipped with the ability to manipulate nature to their liking and use fauna/woodland creatures to hinder or hurt their enemies.

Undead Bloodline: The undead bloodline are drawn and moved by the forces of death. They are fascinated by it and study it, learn from it, grow from it, and ultimately accept its inevitability. At some point in an undead blooded sorcerer's family history someone had dabbled with necromancy or found themselves transformed into a lich, either way they are capable of instilling fear into their foes, causing them to decay physically or even raise the undead to serve them. This is a bloodline very rarely found outside of the elven race.


CHARACTER SHEET
Format however you please. Do not be afraid to push or even break the boundaries or traditions set within the lore. If there are any uncertainties or questions of "can i do this or is it okay to do that" please don't be afraid to ask me! Also once your character is accepted expect me to PM you to do some brainstorming about a "quest" for your character. It'll tie into your backstory and it will be another goal for our little rag tag group to accomplish as they travel through Talvien.

Name:
Age:
Gender:
Race:
Alignment:
Deity:
Class: Arcane/Martial/Divine
Bloodline: (if applicable)

Appearance: Written description + photo please! I have a personal preference for art in medieval fantasy roleplays. Y'all know the vibe.


Personality: How does your character act within their certain alignment? Is there potential for that alignment to change?


History: What made your character into who they are today? Why are they joining the expedition? To save the world--or perhaps for the gold? Let me know if you need any help with this one btw--I know it's a little sketch sometimes making a solid backstory for a character in a world that isn't already fully fleshed out.


NOTES: I'm totally cool and actually encourage dual classes with the exception of running both Arcane and Divine. They are never meant to be in the same side in this universe! Imagine a romance between the two of em tho oof. Also, tieflings can't be divine casters and aasimars can't be arcane casters.
NOTES 2: I'm also definitely not opposed to some crossblooded shenanigans, but it'd be weird if everyone was cross blooded you know? So we'll see what happens with that.
NOTES 3: If you made it this far, wow. idk how u survived reading all this lore dump but i love you for it.
 
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OZZTARAK "OZZ" CRANE


"I don't know what happened that night. All I know is I woke up to villagers tearing each other apart and the fog refusing to touch me alone. Damned mess..."
NAME: Ozztarak Crane
RACE: Half-Orc
GENDER: Male
AGE: 33
ALIGNMENT: Chaotic Neutral
DEITY: Sybil the Lady of Love
CLASS: Arcane/Martial
BLOODLINE: Draconic (Electricity)
APPEARANCE: Ozz is a rugged type of handsome, his physicality clearly orc and his eyes displaying a surprising amount of humanity. Years as a practiced mercenary has given him a strong build and thanks to his blood he stands taller than most other races. He has a rather specific love for overcoats and belts.

PERSONALITY: Ozz has always been a free spirit who doesn't let the arbitrary rules of society get in the way of how he lives, loves, and lays. He's a thunderstorm who crashes into someone's life one moment and dissipates the next. He banters, teases, and argues with nothing but absolute certainty in himself. With that said there are times where the orc blood in his veins boil and he can feel himself on the cusp of a blood rage, but Ozz has learned to control it better than most of his kin--half blooded or not.

HISTORY: Ozz never knew his father and has always considered it for the best. After all, if he stood face to face with the barbarian that had promised his mother his devotion and abandoned her once he realized he sired a halfblood, Ozz would without a doubt succumb to the rage. Regardless, he was raised by his mother Olivia Crane with a great deal of love. They were forced to move often as not many regions would let a dirty crossbreed family remain on their lands for too long. Whether it was nobility or peasantry running them out, Olivia always kept her chin up however and Ozz learned to to do the same.

Out of love for his mother and an undeniable want to make up for all the pain he caused her, the moment Ozz came of age he found her a humble home on the countryside and left to become a mercenary. This way she would finally be able to settle and he would be able to support her from afar. His mercenary worked proved fruitful but it led him down many reckless roads. Alcoholism, trysts with far too many men and women, gambling--Ozztarak did it all and without relent.

It was such desires that brought him to the outskirts Diane. His favorite bar sat nestled in a settlement along the border of the former halfling kingdom. It wasn't his first time staying in such a precariously located village but the fog hadn't advanced in over a decade and it was the home of one of his favorite taverns. He had no reason to believe something would go wrong. So Ozz drank himself to a stupor and woke without his memory and a bar full of corpses.

Horror set in and yet, the newly creeping fog refused to get too close to him. With little choice otherwise, Ozz traveled to the capital of Diane and shared his story with the nobility, sharing them the horrible realization that the fog had begun spreading once more. Without his consent he was shackled (for his "protection) and shipped off to the Cadeira in the Kaleshian Empire where they had already began planning countermeasures against the mist.
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Professor Beaumont Benedetti
Horned | Forty-nine | Wyndfel
Name:
Beaumont Elias Benedetti

Nickname:
Beau to friends.

Race:
Horned

Age:
Forty nine

Home Territory:
Windmere, Wyndfel

Profession:
Professor of Fine Arts

Description:
Beaumont Benedetti is one of the more lankier examples of his race, always standing tall and lean in a dapper outfit just messy enough to conceal the amount of effort he actually put into its appearance. A contrast to his rather colorful personality, Beau's skin is a gloomy grey but it is maintained well alongside his tousled white hair and perfectly manicured goatee. His eyes are kind and match his hair neatly, though all of those features are in contrast to the prominent, dark horns crowning his forehead. Beaumont is no stranger to jewelry or piercings as well, having a rather clear preference for gold and all its complementary shades. Lastly the professor's look wouldn't be complete without a pair of glasses resting just a tad too low on the bend of his nose and a lit cigar held lightly between his delicate fingers.​

Personality:
The professor is three things always and without apology. First, he is enamored and in the constant pursuit of beauty--beauty in himself, in his work, and in life in it's entirety. Second, he's a man of passion and known for diving too deep into his interests. It's not uncommon for Beau to forget (or forgo really) essentials like eating and sleeping when he's working on a project he's particularly driven about. Third, despite all his eccentrics and quirks he is a man who believes that a kinder more beautiful world is possible and should be worked towards. He's far from perfect however, the man has seen many years and has shared far too many drinks, love, and pain over the course of them. Alcohol and meaningless trysts started out as sources of inspiration; they were just another way for the professor to see the beauty of life. Over the decades they became habits, addictions, and to this day he struggles to find the balance between living life fully and living life foolishly.​

Ultimately, Beau is an idealist, an artist, and a man of indulgence.​

Bio:

Beau's long winding tale of art, love, and beauty started at his father's side in Windmere. The professor grew up watching his old man work without rest at the forge alongside his four siblings, all their young eyes entranced by the glow of molted metal and the sparks that flew with every strike of the hammer. Beau's father always wanted to be a painter and he found a way to express it by using precise, fire magic to carve designs along the length of his metalwork. Rumors of a smith who could accomplish all that and more was enough to bring a multitude of colorful individuals through the doors of their humble little forge. The most important one was a beautiful human from Taithros. His name was Octavius and his skin was the color of olives. He was radiant. He was a lover of art and the finer things in life and he was everything that Beaumont, then twenty two, wanted. They had a passionate affair and Beau would later leave Wyndfel to join him in Taitelle.

There they were happy for the longest time. Octavius' ties to Magisteria Academy allowed Beaumont to study and refine his own fire magic. He was talented enough to be offered a position among the faculty at thirty but turned it down in favor for a smaller position in Khal Miras as a professor of the fine arts. That way, he could pursue his artistry fully and be closer to the family he had come to miss dearly over the years. At forty five, Beau lost the love of his life to a sudden illness and poured all his energy into his students and his art. Such focus would only change with the discovery of a secret cache in the home he had shared with Octavius; hidden in the compartment were countless letters tying his lover to the growing rebellion. Longing to feel a connection to him once more, no matter what form it came in, Beaumont decided that he would continue Octavius' work. To the shock and dismay students both current and former, Beau resigned from the small university that had been his home for so many years and set off to change the world for the man that had changed his.​

Magic:

» Elemental - Fire
It would be easy to expect Beaumont to specialize in beautifully illustrated runes but true to his unconventional nature, Beau sees beauty like no other in a simple flame. Indeed there's something truly alluring to him about an element that is heralded both as a force of destruction and a form of purification. As flowery as he can get, Beau acknowledges that beauty can be easily found in simplicity--and what's more easier to understand than a fireball flying at one's head?​

Skills:

» Painting
» Dueling
» Dancing
» Harp-Playing
» Tailoring

Strengths:

» Impassioned - Whatever project has captured his muse, be it a painting or a full blown plot of rebellion, Beaumont pursues it with absolutely every fiber of his being. He possesses incredible focus, determination and drive that, when applied, can be a boon to any budding artwork or movement.
» Intellectual - A professor as well as an artist, Beau is a man who actively aims to learn new information in hopes that he can share it with those around him. He thinks first before acting and is always happy to discuss complex topics with like-minded individuals.
» Idealist - Beaumont believes that the world and those that inhabit it are always capable of better and so he holds himself to such standards. He is always trying to improve himself as a man and as an ally. Part of that is making sure he and his companions' spirits are high.

Weaknesses:

» Physicality - Beaumont's always been more of a scholar than a warrior. Years of comfortable study, debauchery, and artistry has made him less sturdy than what would be expected of your typical Horned.
» Excitable - Beau's tendency to dive head first (and often far too intensely) into whatever project has him inspired is a double edged sword. If left to his own devices, Beaumont will toss aside a lot for the sake of finishing what he set out to do. He'll forget to eat or deprive himself from sleep. He's even snapped at those who would dare try to point out unhealthy and perhaps even obsessive he can get.
» Proud - Like many of his race, Beaumont holds a great deal of pride at his accomplishments, his title, and his accolades. At times such self recognition can come off as conceited or vapid.
» Indulgence - As an artist who promotes free will, free thinking and happiness, Beau is more than inclined to the many vices available in this world. He's reached a point where he takes part in such immoralities far too often but even as he is messily shuffling around like the city drunk he insists that he does his best work while inebriated.

Romanceable:
Of course!
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If anyone knows the artist behind these beautiful illustrations please let me know!
 
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BEAUMONT BENEDETTI & PENELOPE PEXORI
mentions @Lillian Gray
The letters had been all too much, the lot of them practically ineligible while they shook in his grey hands. Beaumont Benedetti had been drunk that night in Khal Miras, groaning and shuffling around the space he had shared with Oct for so many years. The professor had tripped, his shoulder smacking into the wall and knocking something he was never meant to find out of its place. It was a beautiful sight at first--the cascade of faded white papers slowly drifting downwards to meet him on the floor--but from the very first sentence he managed to read it became clear all too quickly who had authored the letters.

And he cried. Beaumont cried like it was the night after the funeral all over again. He cried like he had while his beloved apprentice and her cat waited outside his locked door, unwilling to leave the professor alone all those years ago. But there was no time for such fragility in the present day. The remnants of his lover that had broken him down then had become the fire in his chest that kept Beau and his chin up now.

Octavius had a goal, a worthy one, and Beaumont would stop at nothing to see it realized. He was just grateful that he needn't face such a momentous task alone. So the professor turned to the bard at his side as they neared their destination and offered her a hit from his pipe.

"So where exactly are we heading again, Pen, my dear? It's been oh so long since I found myself in Taithros..."

Penelope Pexori turned and hummed in response to hearing her name. The hour was late, and the gates to Taithros were looming on the horizon. She could just make out the details of the large gate which separated the well to do from the rest of the masses. She accepted his pipe and brought it to her lips, tapping the stem on her lower lip as she contemplated where it was they were supposed to be going. Beaumont wasn't the only one with a history in Taithros, but Penny had seen to it to keep those memories distant the day she left. Dredging up so much as a common street made her skin crawl as flashes of her childhood came with them.

She took a long drag from the pipe and exhaled cooly.

"You're asking me?" She grinned. Her bright blue eyes glanced sideways at Beaumont. "Oh, Beau, I thought you knew me better."

Penelope shook her head in mock annoyance before offering the pipe back to her teacher with a shaking hand. If she held onto it any longer, she might have smoked it dry. That wasn't one of her habits and she preferred to keep it that way. Being back had her on edge.

"Some Randy Gandy? Goose? Ah! A gander, the Randy Gander." Penelope exclaimed. "I've no idea where it is but-"

In the distance there was a loud crack and suddenly the sky turned bright orange. Penelope yelped in reaction to the loud bang which sent shockwaves even beyond the gates they approachedAWK. Flames licked the sky as a pillar of smoke rose into the heavens. Penelope stared in awe at the horizon as something unseen caught fire within the walls of the city. It had been some time since she'd been in the city, true, but she didn't remember there being anything that was supposed to be on fire. The large black and gray cat which had been close on her heel fell flat in the grass with his ears pointed back, and hissed.

Whatever it was, whoever caused it, the moment of transition was an absolute sight. Beaumont could not help himself, it was in his nature to think first of beauty and second of cause and consequence. The flash, the flames, from where they stood the whole world seemed to bend to this moment. It was a sight like no other and it took the professor more than a moment to step back from his passion and think about the implications of such a sight.

"Oh dear." Was all Beau could bring himself to say before wordlessly bringing the pipe back to his lips for another hit. As he exhaled he made a motion to tuck the pipe away but a moment of thought deemed one more drag a necessity. When he spoke once more his breath was earthy and herbal, the gravity of the situation only truly settling in his gaze. "That can't be good."

Instinct told her to run from the danger. To pretend she was nothing more than a bard on the road with her teacher. Master and apprentice travelling for the sake of entertainment and knowledge. The letters in Beaumont's pack screamed otherwise. What were the odds that the ones they were searching for were related to the explosion of color on the night's sky? There wasn't a doubt in her mind. Penelope would have bet her lyre on it. Whoever had penned the mysterious letter, Kholas, was somewhere inside the city at that very moment and they had to find him, fast.

"We need to go." Penelope bent over and pulled her pack off her shoulders. She presented the open satchel to Jack, who happily curled on top of her travel supplies before Penelope threw her pack on once more. "This might be our only chance, Beau."

The phrase 'only chance' had such finality, such severity, that Beaumont could only acknowledge it with a firm nod. Beau took only a moment to fasten his belongings closer to his person, the grip he had on his harp case tightening. His old bones already ached at the thought of a sprint but as Penelope had already aptly put, there was little choice.

"I only ask that how I look when I run does not find its way into any of your rhymes or songs." He sighed. "Lead the way darling."

"Ha!" Penelope snorted with glee, "I'm already penning the first verse now-"

She skipped forward a few steps, turning back to sneer at Beau before darting towards the main gates of Taithros. There were plenty of people rushing about inside, struck by the horror of whatever it was that had caught on fire. It had been too long for Penelope to recall exactly what building it was, but as the finer details of the architecture came into view, she had to guess it was the prestigious academy Beau was always boasting about.

Penelope stopped just shy of the gate and her courage faltered. They had talked about the rebellion at length. Through tears and too many bottles of liquor, Penelope had listened to Beaumont recite Octavius' correspondences with unfamiliar faces well into the night, for many nights. She'd read the letters firsthand until the beautifully inked messages didn't sound like they were in her language any more. Save Aetheria, they said. The tree is dying, they claimed. In her heart the horned woman knew that facing the Empire was a bold act of defiance, but standing at the gates of Taithros had her feeling wholly unprepared for the consequences behind her allegiance. The moment of hesitation cost her, and the massive doors swung shut just in time for a single figure to slip out into the night. She was nimble, quick on her feet until she dropped at the treeline not twenty yards from the city walls. Penelope was about to scold herself for not acting until she spotted the odd arrangement of branches quite literally growing out of the woman's head. A nymph? What was a nymph doing in Taithros, Penelope wondered.

This was someone she recognized. Penelope moved towards the nymph with her arms held out, eyes unblinking as they kept their gaze on the woman's hand to watch for how she might react to the sudden appearance of two strangers. She must have heard her coming. The nymph sat straight up and attempted to crawl back, but fell onto her wrist and cried painfully.

"Stay back!" The nymph ordered. She clutched her broken wrist to her chest, the skin was black and blistered, likely from the fire in the city. "Take one more step and I will break you where you stand." The nymph's free hand sunk into the earth and the ground began to quiver, roots breached the surface of the earth as easily as if it were water.

"Wait, we've been looking for you!" Penelope threw up her hands and took a step back.

"I do not know you." The nymph spat.

"You're Lin- Linnae?" Penelope took a stab in the dark and threw out the only name that fit her description. A nymph with holly for hair and a deep distrust of strangers. It was in a letter a man named Kiernan had once written, a jovial warning to Octavius to keep his distance should he find himself in Taithros without the familiar mage's company.

Penelope took a measured step forward. At first, Linnae didn't respond. She was too startled by the fact that an apparent stranger knew who she was without them ever having met before. The second step she took, however, was met with agitation as Linnae issued a second warning.

"I said to stay back." She hissed with much less venom in her tone.

Beau followed his apprentice to the best of his ability… which wasn't much. He was paces behind by the time the gates were brought to close and totally out of breath by the time Pen had turned her attention to a nymph. Still right as the bard recognized her, so did the professor, and Beau's expression softened as he approached even if it was between labored breaths.

When he could bring himself to talk his gentle hand found Peneleope's shoulder and urged her to take just a single step backwards.

"She speaks the truth." Beau said simply, his tone serious but not unkind. For a moment he turned to scan the area around them, making sure that the three of them were alone in the clearing before lowering his voice and speaking once more. "We're a tad new to this rebellion business but my partner he… he used to worked closely alongside Kiernan."

The professor shifted uncomfortably as the name passed his lips but he continued all the same, hands raising with caution though there was confidence in the way that he spoke. "The empire has taken so many good people from us already, it'd be a shame if we let distrust between its dissenters take out a few more don't you think?"

His gaze shifted towards Penelope and back to Linnae. "Especially ones as cute as us."

Penelope's cheeks turned a bright red with Beaumont's words. She brushed his hand from her shoulder and huffed, flustered he would say something so embarrassing in front of someone else. And not just any someone, a prominent and established member within the rebellion!

Linnae looked to the city walls as if contemplating her options. Accept the truth the strangers had offered her, or face the odds fighting them off should it turn out they were liars. Something Beaumont said resonated in her, it was clear only in the brief moment which her ruby colored eyes darted to the ground with a glint of shame to them. The fist curled against her chest relaxed and the roots which she had conjured slipped back down beneath the earth once more. Penelope offered her hand to help the nymph rise and she responded by raising her own with a great amount of reluctance. Closing the distance between them, Penelope reached down and gripped Linnae's forearm, Linnae doing the same.

"Quickly, we need to move." Linnae's aura had shifted into something else entirely. Although not completely casual between the two strangers, she seemed to have less of an edge now. "This way. Go."

She ushered them into the treeline and waited until they were a few paces ahead before turning to follow. It was only then when Beaumont nudged his favorite apprentice ever so slightly, shooting the woman a wink as they walked just ahead of the nymph.

"I'm sorry about catching you off guard back there by the by." He whispered lightly. "It's just... you're the absolute cutest when you blush like that. I just knew Linnae wouldn't be able to turn us away after she caught a glance."​
 
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"She drove him mad, entirely mad, and there was nothing he could do about it but feel himself fall for it, time and time again."
 
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