[OOC][INVITE ONLY] Reign of Discord - Silence Falls

[Malkuthe Highwind]

[LINK] to IC Thread

[malk]GM: @Malkuthe Highwind[/malk]
[malk]CO-GM: @Faulkner[/malk]​

[DASH=#ADD8E6]

Discord's dominion is the heart that knows no restraint​

A fist came crashing down on the hard wooden table, hewn from timbers unknown to those who lived south of the Edge of the World, a realm explorable only by the hardiest of men, by its centuries-old order of guardians: the Swordsingers. There was a palpable air of hostility and frustration between the two men. The larger and older of the two was evidently angered by what he'd just learned. The man's heavy steel gauntlet left a visible dent on the dense, otherwise durable wood. "Where are my Dansers, Marksmen and Singers?" he asked. "My Maestros?" He leaned over the table. "My Instruments?" He growled angrily. "Where in all the known realms are the Swordsingers?" he demanded, settling both his fists on the table in a manner far less aggressive than he had prior. "Pray, tell, how many men and women did you see as you ascended the steps to my Eyrie?" The Choirmaster's gaze burned through his helm's visor — he hated the damnable thing, but for formality's sake he had to wear it while convening with the other, smaller, mousier man in front of him. The Lord Courier was unable to maintain eye-contact, flinching, instead, when the Choirmaster leaned closer. From the courtyard of the Citadel a decent ways below them, the soft, pleasant sound of song and steel clashing against steel rose up to the Eyrie in the dead silence that followed.

The Lord Courier fidgeted where he stood, unsure how to answer the query. He fiddled with the collar of his blue silken tunic with golden trim. He was only meant to be the messenger. He had no authority, nor did he have training to answer such things. "There could not have been more than one or two hundred, my Lord Choirmaster, but I do not see what this has to do with the Crownsong's comm—"

The Choirmaster cut the Lord Courier off with a sharp glare. "One or two hundred, my Lord Courier, one or two hundred! Are you aware of our strength in numbers in years long gone, during my youth as a Mockingbird?" The Lord Courier shrank away from the glare, and shook his head in response to the question. "There were thousands" he hissed, contempt evident in the menace that crept into his voice. "Do you hear the clash of sword and song from the courtyard, Lord Courier?" queried the Choirmaster as he walked over to one of the windows in the Eyrie, flinging it open to allow the full volume of the glorious, Harmonious noise rise to the lofty room.

"Yes, my Lord Choirmaster, but the Crownsong insists tha—"

"It's pleasant, soft, and mellow, yes?" pressed the Choirmaster, interrupting the Lord Courier once more. He would hear talk of the Crownsong when he wished to heart of it. At the moment, he had no desire whatsoever to hear of the rumoured-to-be-Discordant king. The gods damn him and his enemies.

"Yes, Milord, but please, listen to what the Crownso—"

"You will be silent" stated the Choirmaster simply, bristling rage barely contained by a facade of necessary professionalism. "You are in my Citadel and it would do you good to not evoke my wrath. I am halfway tempted to hurl you through this window for your incessant talk of that greedy, hot-headed bastard." The Lord Courier made a disdainful face and opened his mouth to protest the treasonous address of his king, but the Choirmaster needed only to throw open the window a little further to silence him. "Good. In the days of yore, the sound from the courtyard was uproarious. Come Zenithstime, these coloured glass windows would shake from the force of the battles there. Now nothing can be heard compared to the clangor that once was."

The Choirmaster paced back to behind his desk and regarded the Lord Courier with a level gaze. "Where do my Swordsingers go after they leave these halls of learning these days? In the Old World, when humanity still valued Harmony, they would go to serve the noble Houses, become sworn Voices for the Crownsong's Orchesgard!" The older man scoffed before clasping his hands behind his back and continuing. "Gods, if you were lucky, you could become a gallant knight, saving princesses from villainous Flamesingers." The Choirmaster cast his gaze out the window, a morose and sad tune creeping into his voice. "Alas. These days they become godsdamnable sellswords. Merchant guards. Mercenaries! It's shameful, what this once-glorious order has become under my rule. Unfortunately, in a world not interested in upholding the virtues of Harmony, it is what we must do to keep our order alive."

He walked to the window in the opposite side of his study in the Eyrie, flinging it open with little regard for the coloured glass that formed its panes or its intricate designs. If they had been able to take the raucous uproar from the courtyard when it had once been filled with children learning the Art, they would be able to take slamming into the wall of the Eyrie. Staring out into the blue of the High Hour just after the morning Zenithstime, he asked the Lord Courier, almost in a dismissive manner, "What does the Crownsong want?"

The smaller wiry man walked up to his desk and set upon it a scroll sealed with the blue wax jay of house Skynne, the ruling family. "He wants you to rally the Swordsingers. The Wolfsong of Renala has declared war upon us." The man waited for a response. It did not come. After a couple of minutes of waiting, he walked out of the study, back stiff in anger. The man was unused to being commanded when to speak.

The Choirmaster shook his head, massaging his temples. "Damn you Skynne. The gods damn you seven times to the Silence" he growled under his breath.

[/DASH]

---

OOC Info, #ADD8E6

For a moment, I considered making a condensed OOC for Reign of Discord. However, condensing all the information necessary to understand this world of my creation will not do it justice. There is a daunting amount of information, however, it is all that is necessary. The only one that is remotely optional to read is "The Known Histories." Apart from that, creating a character necessitates the others. This is not by design, however, it helps, as it will filter out those that I am afraid will be unable to fulfill the vision that I have for this RP.

All you need to know about the Swordsingers

Reign of Discord

• The Swordsingers
• The Song
• The Known Histories
• Dovry, Renala, and the Citadel

Character Sheet, #ADD8E6

NOTE 1: As much as possible, make sure your submitted characters are Swordsingers. However, note that Knight Swordsingers require a partner, so find someone OOC to play as your partner if you'd like. You could always remain a Mockingbird or a Nightingale, in any case, if you can't find one.

NOTE 2: For the love of all that is good and holy, no Japanese sounding names, please! Think of the naming conventions as middle-ages English. Names with the /ai/ sound are preferred in this land. Names that begin with an A are also quite popular.

Name:
Age:
Nationality:
Gender:
Appearance:
Short Background:
Personality:
Rank: Skylark, Mockingjay, Initiate, Nightingale, Swordsinger
Band: Danser, Singer, Marksman, Maestro, or Instrument
Equipment/Magical Abilities:

Rules and Standards, #ADD8E6

1. Proper Grammar and Spelling are a Must! A few spelling mistakes here and there are totally forgivable, but if you give me a post that looks like it was raked over by a hen, we will have a problem. Most word processing software comes bundled with spell-checkers these days, and it doesn't take too long to make use of the feature, so use it.

2. Quality and Substance, Please! There is a certain length that I like to see in posts to my RP. A good rule of thumb is that on average, you should be posting three to four well-formed paragraphs. Less is acceptable, but only when it is necessary. One of my idiosyncrasies as a GM is that I love to read. If you want a good reference for post-lengths that I like, read the posts in my RP Dwindling Glory - Lament of the Fallen.

3. Invest Time and Effort into Writing your Best. The worlds I create take a lot of time and effort. I pour my heart and soul into every world that I bring to life. While I don't expect the same amount of dedication from my players, I do expect some of it. Don't join if you know that you will have a tight schedule that will keep you from making anything but rushed posts. However, I know that real life happens. Please. If possible, INFORM ME.

4. Communicate! One of the most vital things you can do to help contribute to an RP is to communicate with your fellow RP'ers in-and-out of character. This game will involve a lot of necessary cooperation and conflict between players. The best way to resolve combat scenes is to talk about them beforehand OOC. So please. Communicate!

5. The Usual. No god-modding, no meta-gaming, no Mary Sues or Gary Stus, no power-playing, et cetera. None of those things that are universally distasteful in RP.

6. Follow Iwaku content guidelines! Last, but gods know definitely not the least, this RP is being hosted and played on Iwaku and as such needs to follow the content guidelines. No mature content in the main thread, please! And no minor-adult mature content even outside the main thread. Also make sure you follow the terms of service of the site. Remember, your GM is a Staff Member, I will enforce Iwaku policy here.

Preliminary Information, #ADD8E6

Where to Begin the RP:

The Swordsingers are an order caught between a rock and a hard place, trapped between their sworn duty to protect Harmony, and their need for funding in order to survive. The Crownsong of Dovry has demanded that the Swordsingers accompany his troops into the field of battle against the neighbouring, hostile kingdom of Renala. The Choirmaster has refused, and as a result, the Crownsong has sentenced the entire order to death for the crime of treason. You were a part of a delegation that had been sent to the city a month or two prior to this sentence. The delegation was sent for various reasons: research, diplomacy, fundraising and mercenarial duties, among others.

Fortunately, a noble order such as the Swordsingers has many supporters, even amongst the nobility and the palace livery. Thanks to informants in the Crownsong's court, you and a few of your companions from the delegation managed to escape the city just in the nick of time. You witness some of your brothers and sisters being captured by the Crown. In fact the vast majority of them are. The few of you that have managed to escape the city are not safe. You don't know how, but some hellish beast managed to track down many of you. The handful that have managed to return to the Citadel have a harrowing tale to tell.

You are one of those that have made it back.

ADDENDUM[1]​: There were some people that were quite important to you that accompanied your small delegation. In the chaos you lost them, and, as you have slowly come to realize after days of waiting for them to show up at the Citadel, they have been captured and possibly executed. Ohnoes. This is an important part of the opening scenes of the RP, and is pivotal in establishing the tone for the early plot. You have to include this in your introduction posts!

The Goal:

Currently, you are relatively safe in the Citadel, however, things are far from peaceful in the age-old fortress of your order. Battle preparations are being made, and the three walls are being fortified for a protracted siege. The goal, for now, is to help in preparations, make sure the Citadel can withstand the assuredly approaching Dovryn army, and make sure that the place is stocked up with enough supplies to last a while.

If you have any questions, feel free to ask!

ADDENDUM[2]​: Knights Swordsinger may require a partner to be raised to the Adryn, however, it is entirely possible that your Swordsinger is a bit older, and has already lost their partner. Do keep in mind that they will be a bit unstable if you do. Losing a partner is a very traumatic experience.

 

[Malkuthe Highwind]

Reserved for Castlist

Cast, #ADD8E6

Name	Player	Rank	Band	Partner	Link	Status
Gwyne Kortan	@Malkuthe Highwind	Nightingale	Instrument	Tomas Fylan(U)​	[LINK]	Alive
Adelia of Nurnberg	@RiverNotch	Skylark	Maestro	N/A	[LINK]	Alive
Adrienne Alvier	@Taleweaver	Nightingale	Danser	N/A	[LINK]	Alive
Arien Lothyriel	@Vinyl	Skylark	Undecided	N/A	[LINK]	Alive
Blainkos Dorwanin	@Cerulean	Skylark	Singer	Taliat Forne(U?D)​	[LINK]	Alive
Tomas Fylan	@Faulkner	Uninitiated	Maestro	Gwyne Kortan(U)​	[LINK]	Alive
Eric Onseen	@ET4252	Swordsinger	Singer	Delphene Onseen(?D)​	[LINK]	Alive

U​ - Unofficial
?D​ - Possibly dead

 

[RiverNotch]

PLONK
Gonna edit in a charrie sheet here once I've finished reading all the lore.

Name: Adelia of Nurnberg
Age: Young (18)
Nationality: Dovryn
Gender: Female
Appearance:

Spoiler

Short Background: Her mother is a distant Lupendren; her father, a distant Skynne. Emphasis on distant; no benefits (except the extremely rare possibility of inheriting a crown or two) are begotten from these blood bonds. The art of singing, she learned from both parents, both of whom are members of their hometown's guild of singers. The Art of Singing, she is currently learning from the Preceptors of the Citadel. She was forced to join the Swordsingers when she was quite young (well, forced is actually much too strong a word, as she was the one who insisted she join the Swordsingers), and currently, she is a Maestro approaching the rank of Nightingale. All (she thinks) she really needs now is a partner to resonate with....

Personality: Describing this through the five precepts, the following is a basic outline of her personality:
Self-control - She has enough restraint to resist basic troubles, though she is one to lose control when things get rather too passionate.
Courage - This, she has plenty of; sometimes, excessively so, to the point of rather headstrong stupidity.
Patience - Considering the intensity of her temper and her too-great an amount of boldness, she has, surprisingly, a great amount of patience, especially for people.
Fortitude - She would not be a Maestro if she did not have a lot of this. (Of course, the Nightingales did tell her to become a Marksman instead....) Anyway, mentally, she is quite strong, though really deep psychological attacks she isn't yet a master of handling; physically, though, she is surprisingly resistant, considering the general delicacy of her physique.
Responsibility - She is also quite responsible, always taking responsibility for whatever wrongdoings she may or may not have done (that is, even other's sins, she is oft willing to take responsibility for, which isn't necessarily a good thing). And she never forgets her duties, no, except maybe for the *simpler* ones.

Rank: Skylark
Band: Maestro
Equipment/Magical Abilities:
The Queen of the Night - Her natural voice is of an astounding quality and strength; even with her lack of training, she is able to Sing some of the most powerful Songs in the Maestros' repertoire, albeit with a clear lack of control.

Bracelets of Aida - Instead of bangles, Adelia has two long snake-shaped coils of gold wrapped around her arms, parting gifts by her blacksmith father to her, which she has since extended to follow her natural growth. Numerous rings of different metals have been attached to the two coils, her take on the maestro tradition of adding to the bangle count. The bracelets don't actually have any magical value, though shaking their rings around or even simply looking at them does help Adelia concentrate on her Singing.

Le Grand Macabre - A Dirge she learned from one of her instructors from before she became a Skylark. The Dirge isn't exactly unique as compared to most other Dirges; however, as a sort of project in memory of said instructor (the man was captured, and possibly executed, when they escaped the hands of the Crownsong), she is rearranging the song to have a different effect - she plans on turning it into a song that resurrects the dead fully, without turning them into thralls.

Dido's Lament - Another powerful Song. This one, she'd learned when she was a little girl: a Lupendren lament, in both senses of the word, though she only learned its magical applications recently, from when she acquired the rank of Skylark. The Song is famous for having been used by the Lupendrens in the great Civil War, and for having an unusually vast reach; however, the Song itself isn't known, so not many people should recognize it.

Addendum - The people she lost:
A Swordsinger named Jochanaan, her primary instructor for most of the time she was an Initiate and a Mockingjay. He's the instructor referred to in the description of the Song "Le Grand Macabre".

 

[Nevvy]

The links in the ooc info section seem to be broken or for some reason, I cannot access them.

 

[RiverNotch]

The links in the ooc info section seem to be broken or for some reason, I cannot access them.

Remove the "https/" at the beginning. That's what I did, and it worked.
Or search Malku's blog posts. That also works.

 

[Malkuthe Highwind]

It should be working now. Sorry about that. My mistake.

 

[Nevvy]

It does, thanks.

Would it be permissible for a swordsinger to have broken one of the precepts in the process of escaping and surviving, have a personality change in pennance, and proceed to begin again from the very bottom in another band? Previous abilities would be worthless after the change given that the personality has changed from tranquil to forceful or vice versa, leaving him or her incompatible with them.

 

[Malkuthe Highwind]

Looks good so far, RiverNotch.

 

[Malkuthe Highwind]

Name: Gwyne(Guh-wine) Kortan
Age: 22
Nationality: Dovryn
Gender: Male

Background:

Born and raised to one of the not-so-well-off houses of Dovry, Gwyne never truly lived a life of luxury. Born sixth of eight children, he was far enough from the lineage as the Seat of the House to be ignored for most of the time.

House Kortan is far from the good graces of the Crownsong. After all, the reason they were no longer well-off was that they exhausted their coffers supporting the rebels that would later form Mindary. They also vouched for House Lupendren, but would not send any men to their aid, for while the Kortans were once rich, they never really had many soldiers to spare.

There is a constant animosity between the Crownsong and House Kortan. On the other hand, there is a bond between House Lupendren and House Kortan. Regardless, Gwyne never wanted anything to do with the House politics. Tired of being ignored, he decided to make a name for himself and, at age 13, left for the Citadel.

He has since then been training. He had no qualms in training. However, he did not do exceptionally well. At age 22, he has now spent just about four years as a Nightingale, unable to find a partner.

Personality:

Timid but frank, well, timid most of the time. He does not like being bullied into anything and will lash out at anyone who tries it. He's a dedicated person, though there are simply days that he wants to do nothing more than to lie in bed.

He does not like to be treated like a kid. He had already experienced that far too much in House Kortan's estates. He also despises hard-headed people and would rather try to teach a rock to climb than deal with an ox-headed lummox.

He has a guarded tongue and tries to watch what he says. Whenever asked for advice, he is often at a loss for a minute or two, twiddling his thumbs unconsciously, racking his brain for a good answer.

Unfortunately for the budding Instrument, the sight of blood makes him queasy. The wound itself, not so much. He can look at a cauterized, severed limb for a day without feeling anything, but blood would make him sick.
Rank: Nightingale
Band: Instrument

Equipment/Magical Abilities:

Equipment:

Healing Charm - Around his wrist, Gwyne wears a healing charm. It helps him focus his Song when healing and has been itself enchanted to aid in healing the body of whomever wears it. It took him three months to create during his training as a Nightingale and earned him a good place in his Preceptor's eyes. It is a vital part of Gwyne's ensemble, apart from the light armor, because his inability to stand blood impairs his ability to heal and he needs all the help he can get.

Magical Abilities:

Song Delving - An uncommon ability in general, but quite common amongst Instruments, Song Delving is the ability to hear the lifesongs of people. It is limited in that it could never tell who the lifesong belongs to, but it does help determine exactly what's wrong with the person. When a person is killed, his lifesong is cut off. When a person succumbs to disease or old age, the lifesong fades out with a final crescendo.

Arcane Focus - Despite his limited abilities to heal, Gwyne redeemed himself by being one of the best Arcane Foci amongst the instruments. Though his true strength with the discipline is yet to be tested due to his lack of a partner, Gwyne has been able to successfully increase a friend's power twofold for a minute. Arcane Foci are able to use themselves as a conduit for their partner or another person's Song and they are able to amplify it with their own Song.

Valorous Hymn - When in an area brimming with positive energy, Gwyne can use this Song to bolster the strength, agility and stamina of his allies within earshot. It leaves him drained afterward however, and he will be unable to do anything but the smallest spells for a day or two afterwards.

 

[Malkuthe Highwind]

@Nevvy, apologies, I didn't notice the amendment you put in your post.

Generally speaking, a Swordsinger cannot be stripped of the title Knight Swordsinger, unless they violate their oaths(there are very few ways to do so, as the -are- allowed to take title, wife, and land, just not hold an executive position in governance), or for the most egregious offenses possible: namely becoming 'Discordant.' I presume that if this person instead approached the Choirmaster, the Choirmaster would allow them to set aside their old band for the moment, and instead go through the training of the other band until such time that said other band deems them a proper member of their little organization, and takes them in.

All that being said, violating one of the precepts is not as terrible a crime as the Swordsingers may make it seem, however, they do that to discourage doing anything of the sort.

 

[The Taleweaver]

Name: Adrienne Alvier
Age: 21
Nationality: Dovryn
Gender: Female

Background:

The child of one of the numerous fishermen of Ashnaile, Adrienne is the youngest of four children. Though not entirely destitute, her family is still far from wealthy. Her older brothers both chose to follow their father into his profession, in order to keep the family fed. Her older sister, Evelyn, was swiftly married off once she was of age, in order to obtain her bride's price. It wasn't long before Adrienne suffered the same fate, married off to a shipping magnate of the port city. Her bride's price was hefty, but nowhere near worth what her new 'husband' forced her to endure.

Treated less like a wife and more like a possession, she was trussed and prettied and paraded to function after function, shown off as arm candy. In public, she was merely humiliated and degraded. In private, she suffered far worse at his hands.

Being put through indignity after indignity as the man's wife for two years, Adrienne finally snapped. Gathering her few meager possessions, the young woman fled her home city, unable to so much as say goodbye to her family... Despite the eagerness with which they sold her off, she did miss them, from time to time. She found her refuge at the Citadel, where she all but threw herself into her training, intent on leaving her past behind and immersing herself in her new 'home' and 'family'.


Personality:

Her experiences as that man's 'wife' have left Adrienne a quiet, contemplative stoic. Rarely speaking unless spoken to, the young woman choses to keep her opinions to herself the vast majority of the time. On those rare occasions she does provide her input, her voice is measured and deliberate. Seldom does an emotional outburst of any sort leave her, even whilst training or in the thick of battle. It is her frosty demeanor, some say, that has prevented her from finding an appropriate partner, which leaves her stuck at Nightingale rank for the foreseeable future.

Adrienne's behavior in combat is nearly identical to her voice: cold, calculating, deliberate. Every action considered, weighed, measured, before being taken. She makes no jibes, no comments on the opponent's prowess. Her silence, her complete and utter lack of cries, grunts, or speech during combat training, has done little to improve her reputation, oft leaving her training partners unnerved. The only time she makes a sound is when she begins to Sing.

Despite her reputation as an uncaring, frigid woman, Adrienne does wish to find a partner she can consider an equal; if only she could manage to shed her 'ice queen' exterior in order to do so.

Rank: Nightingale
Band: Danser

Equipment/Magical Abilities:

Equipment:

Joyeuse - One of the two blades at her hip, and the one that she arrived at the Citadel carrying. Though far from the most masterfully crafted, the weapon holds some sentimental value to her, it seems. She is tireless in her upkeep of the sword, keeping it sharp and clean, the sheathe oiled and immaculate.

Dyrnwyn - The second of Adrienne's two blades. While in training, her masters told her with some disdain that she needed a 'proper' weapon. Despite her protests, she was forced to obtain one that met their standards. Balanced, plain, and serviceable, Dyrnwyn is a double-edged longsword of roughly three and a half feet in length.

Magical Abilities:

Adrienne's Rhapsody - Slow in starting, this eerie Song lends a haunting feel to the battlefield. The tempo at which Adrienne sings it determines the severity of the effect. At it's height, the Danser becomes a whirling dervish of Song and steel, blades blurring. While wielding Dyrnwyn, the longsword seems to blaze with an inner light, searing enemies with it's scorching edge.

Autumnal Lament - Perhaps the more effective of her two Songs, those in the vicinity of Adrienne's Autumnal Lament find themselves overtaken by an overpowering lethargy. She often begins combat with the Lament, only to transition into her Rhapsody in an attempt to utterly overwhelm her foes. Unfortunately, Adrienne has yet to perfect the Song, unable to target specific individuals. Friend and foe alike suffer from it's effects.

Important People:

Auguste Benoit - A young man she met in her early years at the Citadel. Though she'd originally tried to drive him off with her usual icy demeanor, the boy was an endless font of optimism. He'd stuck by her through most of her more harrowing tribulations as a Danser. He often expressed regret at being a Danser himself, claiming he would have made a wonderful partner for her. She would never admit it, but she'd grown somewhat accustomed to his company.

Christophe Benoit - Auguste's younger brother, Christophe was never quite as optimistic as the other Benoit. Still, he refused to leave Auguste's side, and Adrienne appreciated that level of familial dedication. If anyone at the Citadel could be considered her 'friends', the pair of them would qualify.

 

[Nevvy]

I don't mind so much. Stuff happens.

I see. So to the swordsingers as an organization, there is an understood flexibility with the breaking or not living up to the precepts on the reasonable standpoint that they are human but it is perfectly reasonable for one to be harsher on him or herself as an individual, overzealous as that might be. Or did you mean something more along the lines of inside the organization being flexible while putting on the illusion of being near flawless to everyone else?

 

[Malkuthe Highwind]

The first one. *nods*

 

[Vinyl]

Saving a little spot here while I create my characters~

 

[Malkuthe Highwind]

@RiverNotch, @Fyrra, @Nevvy, @Taleweaver, @Vinyl

As testament to my reputation as a terrifying GM, I will unveil a further requirement for your opening posts. ;).

At any point between now and when the RP begins, I would like you all to add to the bottom of the posts where you put your character sheets, one or two individuals within the Swordsingers with whom your characters are very emotionally attached. They're close to these people. Best friends, et cetera. You will have to mention them in your first posts. And guess what? They were captured.

And possibly executed. I'd like to know how your characters react to this knowledge once the adrenaline rush of getting away has worn off.

 

[Malkuthe Highwind]

@Taleweaver sorry for the dislike. My internet's being butts and the mouse slipped. -__-

 

[Vinyl]

Name: Arien Lothyriel
Age: 20
Nationality: Meranin
Gender: Male

Appearance

Click the pretty...

Background:

Arien has been swathed in Discord since the very beginning; the boy was conceived in jealous rage and carried within a choleric womb. When he was born, he didn't cry. He screamed. His mother still calls it his first battle cry, but anyone else would describe it as a feral roar - one devoid of meaning or purpose. Growing up, Arien was the sort of child to yank hair, scowl, and chuck any and all items over the side of his home ship. He rarely laughed unless there were arguments to be watched, and when he cried it was often, racuously, and for no understandable reason. For many other people, the sheer amount of negativity Arien wrought upon his surroundings may have been irreparably disturbing.
Luckily for Arien, his family was the Tidefyres - a small group of calamitous Meranin who made it a point to hate the world and just about everything else. They not only thrive in dissonance but embrace it, connected almost solely by their unusual capacity for contempt. A volitile life, most assuredly, and perhaps frowned upon by the rest of the Meranin, but also incredibly effective.
Hatred can be just as binding a force as love.

Around four or five, Arien finally began to manifest characteristics not purely bound to discord. Courage, for one. Determination. A love of valor and honesty - at least from everyone other than himself. He proved himself both clever and particularly sensitive time and time again, and perhaps, in a roundabout way, even kind. Though he had to work hard for it, he began to amass a formidable amount of respect, tainted only by the promises of his parents that he would always be just as discordant as them.

The ship met an untimely demise, along with the rest of its inhabitants.

While saddened by the event, Arien also considered the disaster a new start. A new ship took him in, and life began to get better at a blissfully quick rate...up until a deliberate and disturbing string of events.

Rather abruptly, Arien left his home and practically thrust himself amongst the Swordsingers.

Arien refuses to discuss his background with most. While he harbors many stories he is willing to tell, he's never too slow to warn others that his history is not one of them. Most Swordsingers are aware(or could guess by the look of his step) that he's a Meranin born, but not one can fathom why he left, or why he then joined the Swordsingers with such fervor. Arien alone knows that the reason he's immersed himself so fully in their culture goes hand in hand with the very thing that opposes it, and at times the burden is near impossible to bear.


Personality:

At best, Arien could be described as curiously awkward. The kind of guy to be blunt one moment and guarded the next, laugh or joke with his comrades and then suddenly shut it and take off. He's more than a little quirky and less than bearably predictable, which perhaps is the reason he hasn't yet found a partner.
Well...that and the fact that he gets a bit standoffish at the mention of partnership.
That and the fact that his reputation isn't particularly desirable.
Arien is just as whimsical and unpredictable as his songs, which range from ineffective to weak and occassionally to below average in strength.
God knows why his Nightingale recommended he take the path of the Maestro, and no-one knows why he vehemently refused.

But amid the barrage of quirks and whims lay a small group of constants for Arien. He's both headstrong and courageous in whatever he sets his mind to, quirky or not. If he wants to talk, he'll find someone to talk to godammit, and if he doesn't wish to be involved he quite simply will not be. He's a bit of a flirt when he isn't being guarded as fuck, and his seafaring roots frequently present him as a tad bit more vulgar in tongue than his peers. He's loyal if nothing else, and while many question both his ability and his intentions, his devotion to the legion and all who earn it is a force to be reckoned with.

Personality by Precept:

Self Control - Of all the Precepts, Arien struggles with Self Control the most - whether it be anger ,curiosity, or lust, his proclivity to give into his own desires is almost impressivley strong. He does try to resist temptation. The prolem is that the resisting usually happens at the same time as the giving in.
Courage - It is yet to be found that Arien is afraid of anything worth being afraid of. He's a very headstrong young man.
Patience - Not really. Life aboard a ship has made him feel very much that everything that needs to happen should happen as quickly as possible.
Fortitude- He very much likes to think that he is proficient in Fortitude, but it could use a bit of work. Psychological attacks are probably his greatest weakness, but he can certainly hold his own in a fist fight.
Responsibility- Arien is actually very responsible, holding his obligations in as high esteem as his promises. He does, however, maintain that he cannot be held responsible for things he doesn't remember.

For the sake of becoming a Swordsinger though, Arien can often play the part of either precept with incredible skill for shorter amounts of time.

Rank: Skylark
Band:

Arien's Band gets a little tricky. He's a Singer - or at least, he would like to be a Singer. He claimed Singer. He has trained as a Singer. When he pictures himself in the future, he fantasizes about being a Singer.
But it feels so wrong - in his gut, in his lifesong, even in the Song that he Sings from his lips. A feeling of detachment, and perhaps even asphyxiation, as if he were trying to squeeze himself into a space he simply could never fit - a feeling, of course, he chooses to ignore.
The unease has prevented him from finding a proper Danser partner, but he tries occassionally to help partnerless Dansers in need.

Equipment/Magical Abilities:

Equipment:

Riven Valuable - A gorgeous charm upon the end of a necklace, now battered, black, and broken. It doesn't seem to serve a purpose, other than making Arien's collarbone more attractive. Perhaps it once resembled a bird. Or a cat.
Or an octopus.
It's impossible to tell, really.

Magical Abilities:

Tidefyre Shanty - A borderline dissonant hum-whistle which seems to perpetually rise and then abruptly lower in volume and pitch, like the crashing of waves and the flighty whine of sharp winds. It's a song passed down through the generations of Arien's family. When sung under the breath it brings water to a pleasurable heat, but anything louder results in simmering, splashing, boiling, and even searing hot steam. Any water in earshot - including water in people. The beginning parts of the song can be somewhat confined to a single target, but has a tendency to spread and explode throughout the area without warning. For that reason, Arien tries not to use it for anything more than an isolated brewing of morning tea. It has a fourty five percent chance of doing absolutely nothing.

Pyrexia - His voice is slightly musical, as is the pulse of his breath. Other than that, Arien has no idea what the source of this 'ability' is. Emotions are simply amplified in his midst, along with those characteristics which defy the five precepts - not to an overwhelming point, but enough to be noticeable. Some claim it's harder to Sing properly when Arien is Singing nearby, but that claim has yet to be proven. He doesn't particularly enjoy this effect he has on people, and thus has not explored nor invested much into this 'gift'. He would much rather it go away.

Ersatz Canticle - A fairly effective canticle - energy boosting, morale boosting, and sense boosting to all who hear it within a certain targeted radius. The effect radiates from the target to those around it like gravity effects the planets around a larger body - potent in the central and then lesser with each mass added to the equation. It has been known to produce a feeling of confident invincibility.
It has also been known to spike blood pressure, cause fever, spawn detached feelings from the body and blur peripheral vision. The most practical use seems to be using it on foes and hoping that an ally isn't completely overwhelmed before the side effects kick in, but it's quite the risk. It has a thirty percent chance of doing nothing and a ten percent chance of spiraling out of control or backfiring.

Because of the nature of his Songs, Arien tends to stick with a single, simple temporal tune he learned as an Initiate, which hasn't helped him find a partner either.

Important People:

Kevyn Skent - Who he's known for years. They came in as initiates the same year, trained together, ate together, laughed, fought. She's the only one who's seen him cry, knows where he came from, what he's afraid of. She would tease him. She made things hard for him to manage, in the worst of situations - kick him while he was down all the while yelling for him to get up. But if it weren't for her, Arien's pretty sure he may not have made it so far in the legion. She kept him from snapping. Kevyn was his patience, his self control - and more importantly, his friend.

Amber - Who he didn't actually know much about (not even her last name), and never felt the need to. Amber was a quiet girl, patient, kind, and understanding. The only time he really heard her voice was when she Sang. Her meek attitude had a tendency to get on his nerves from time to time, but she never laughed at him when he fucked up, and had always possesed a respect for those less talented than herself that he'd found somewhat endearing. They weren't actually friends, but they were friendly, which was enough for Arien. She was also Kevyn's partner - as her Singer but also romantically - and therefore a constant source of curiosity.

 

[Nevvy]

Name: Alexander Klein
In progress. I seriously need to clean up my computer since it is typing at about 2 letters per second no matter what I do.

Age: 22
Nationality: Dovry
Gender: Male
Appearance:

Short Background: Alexander is a true example of a patriot that sought to do even more than that. He is a person with extremely lofty ideals and near delusions of perfection to describe what he sees the swordsingers as. Under any number of other circumstances, he could have found himself in the military but it went without saying that the military may have embodied power but it did not embody that idealism that the swordsingers did. While the military had the force to change things, he felt that the swordsingers would hold true to the ideals better. So in a sense, he joined them out of a more childish and shallow view of the world. As it turned out, he was very single minded and adept at seizing the song in general. He rose in the ranks of the swordsingers quickly, perhaps a little too quickly based on that ability before his maturity caught up to his unnatural level of focus. This lapse would come back to bite him. Just recently promoted to the rank of swordsinger at a relatively young age, he ended up in the middle of the capital of his home country at the absolute worst time. When they began to round up all the swordsingers, he was consumed by confusion at why this was all happening, something that proved disastrous to the allies around him. He released a round of the military march after a breaking point when one of those strange beasts showed up. The result of his mistake was hitting everyone in the area, catching more than a few of his fellow swordsingers in the crossfire. In fear, he fled, leaving them behind. He takes this personal failure heavy upon his shoulders and while he did escape, it wouldn't be incorrect to say that he didn't escape in one piece.

Personality:

Self control: It is very easy to have self control when you feel you have some control over the situation. In this case, it was wide spreading but shallow, something he will have to rebuild from the ground up.
Courage: This is usually one of Alexander's stong points though not in the good way. There is a fine line between overconfidence and courage and till this point, he tended to be closer to the overconfident side.
Patience: For being relatively talented, Alexander tends to display a fair amount of patience and dedication. He has always believed in trusting in his preparation. While this has other not so good ramifications, his patience is near unshakeable because of it.
Fortitude: Usually very independent and self sufficient, Alexander exceeds in this area. Used to working by himself with minimal help, he makes his way through with self effort and tempering. He will almost always first seek to solve his problems on his own.
Responsibility: This is one of those things that he excels in just a little too much to the point that he goes off the deep end. While he carefully weighs his own actions and readily accepts them, he considers his failures entirely his own and holds himself up to an impossible standard in the process. In one sense, he is the pinnacle role model when things happen within reason but when things happen that are completely out of expectation, he becomes the model of responsibility to the point of irresponsibility. A healthily balanced person would carry it with himself and move on but Alexander will take such extreme measures to right it and prevent it from ever happening again that it can be borderline self destructive or at least not very good use of his time. This is how he ended up swearing off siezing the song until such a time that he could be sure that he could control it. As the world rarely has absolutes, it might as well have been never. That was tantamount to resigning as a maestro.

Rank: Swordsinger but soon to be working from scratch ability-wise
Band: Currently Maestro, will be Danser
Equipment/Magical Abilities:
The Military March - A warsong (or a ballad if warsongs are exclusively destructive) tuned as a variant of the national anthem of Dovry. This song was Alexander's calling card. While he had sworn to forsake his ties, including to his country, it was not as though his pride in his original country could be erased and it certainly shows in the military march. This song forces a heavy weight on his enemies, impressing upon them intimidation like the feeling of fighting a hopeless battle. It will suck the will to fight out of those without the fortitude to resist it, leaving them alive but effectively unable to lift a finger in battle for a while. It takes a great deal of concentration and a strong grip on the song to direct properly.

Banners Raised - A destructive warsong, meant to be used in tandem with a group. This song is directed to flow just in front of the front line and burn down everything in front of them, clearing a path and leaving charred corpses in its wake.

The above songs have been sworn off by Alexander.

People and stuff:

Floriane Martel - Alexander's nagging instrument partner. They have a very rocky sort of relationship of sorts, operating very differently and often getting on each other's nerves. Floriane thinks that he's too impulsive and forceful about how he does things, like a kid. Alexander sees her like a wannabe mother hen despite the fact that she is all of a year older than him. She by all rights should probably be dead, having been right next to him when the Imperial march went awry.

Dorian Page - A friend of sorts to Alexander and a skylark maestro. Once upon a time, they had been rivals of sorts... for about a month as Dorian had gotten left in the dust. The rivalry part for dumped to the wayside. Alexander helps him with his warsongs now and then though he is irritatingly cocky about it.

 

[Malkuthe Highwind]

@Vinyl: You're in. :D

@Nevvy: What strange beasts are you pertaining to?

 

[Vinyl]

SQUEEE ^ ^

Thank you Malk, I cannot wait~
Now I have only to compulsivley obsess over my CS and scheme for a week before the rp actually starts lD