PEARLS OF PERSIA

[Kuno]

PEARLS OF PERSIA

Nascence - Ambient Background Music

It is said that shifting sands do not a good foundation make*, and yet the seat of Eastern power has rested on the golden sands of Persia for nearly a hundred years. Peace in its basest form has managed to persist by the shah's order. And in that peace, a restlessness has grown in any aspiring individual. Idle hours can only draw discontent, and to those with formidable spirits, the remaining option to them is often one of great enterprise.

One need not go far to seek thrill and adventure in the Persian Empire.

The silk road takes many a bravehearted man or woman through Persia's sprawling reaches. Through arid deserts teeming with the treacherous Rocs and sand golems, and over jagged, snow-capped mountains, where scaled, winged monstrosities are rumoured to perch in their lofty peaks. Sailor upon sailor cross the waxing iridescence of the Black Sea, hoping and praying that the massive Leviathan that lurks below does not come to surface. Fantastical beasts flock the skies above. And the mysterious djinn of Arabia lie amongst the shadows, a fleeting dream to the unsuspecting traveler. The simurgh's song rises above it all, falling across the great city of Isfahan like a sitar's lullaby.

And adventure still lies in the folds of Eastern deities. For where there are gods, there is trickery, and none are so tempting, so tantalizing as the ones that surround the treasure they covet and hoard. It is said to solve Ananias' Square will leave a man richer than even the shah himself. And legend tells it that to find the temple of Bastet will lead to the discovery of the greatest treasure trove history has ever seen.

It would be a shame to leave such treasures untouched...would it not?

It almost seems too good to be true.

Treasure hunting is hardly a viable profession. Often occupied by the of the odd scholar, bandit, and wayman, those who pursue the riddles of the gods and ancients often come away empty-handed. Most ventures are fruitless and needlessly expensive. Rarely do those succeed.

But the taste of adventure often lingers in one's soul. And wasted efforts or not, the promise of unimaginable riches is sweetness to the mind.

The dawn of the first day of Huvarshta you receive the letter. Sent by falcon, no doubt, leaving no question about the financial status of the sender. When you open it, it is a simple invitation embossed in gold lettering to the home of a man named Habbas for the first night of the festival. You pay careful attention to the subscript near the end.

"I hear you are a person of great enterprise. I would like to propose to you a show of generosity...the gift of limitless treasure."

The letter ends there. And there the questions begin.

RULES

• We all know the basic Iwaku rules. No powerplaying, godmodding, etc.
• I accept only art images for characters. Sorry, I'm racist towards real life.
• No doubling up on characters. Stick to your one and done.
• Characters must be posted for at minimum biweekly. If you can not meet that requirement, please let me know. If I do not hear from you after two posting periods (four weeks), you will be ejected from the rp.
• I encourage players to create lore and explore the world as they set fit. However, no changes will be made to pre-established lore. Before you implement something new into the world, discuss it with me. More often than not I'll accept it - so long as it does not interfere with the lore already in place. And speaking of lore…
• Please, please, PLEASE read the lore before asking questions! I know there's a lot of info there, but 9 times out of 10 your rp question just might be answered by information already there.
• Don't post WIPs on the sign-ups. I will break you.
• This is NOT first come, first serve. Again, I am capping the players off at 6. I reserve the right to reject character sheets. Please do not take it personally if you aren't chosen!
• I'll be accepting a maximum of two Aspect characters. If this is something you are interested in, please DM me, and we can discuss your abilities.
  The most important rule: if your username is Applo, you can't join. I will shoot on sight.

CHARACTER SHEET

Name:
Race: (human, aspect, or Puntling)
Nationality: (If you're attempting to make a character whose nationality does NOT fall under those pertaining to the Persian Empire, message me first.)
Age:
Gender:

Appearance: (not required if you have a picture)
Personality: (can be brief. 1-2 paragraphs)

Occupation: (What do they do? Sum up their work for me)
Backstory: (can be brief as well. I'll take anything at or more than a paragraph)

Inventory: (WHAT'S IN THE BOX?!)(totally optional, btw LOL)
Skills: (what's ur guy/gal good at? Can they fight? Do they even lift?)

 

[Kuno]

Whoops, I forgot the lore. Clicky here.

Part Two - Bestiary will be up tomorrow!

 

[Dakota K5]

Name: Cyrus Drakos
Race: Human
Nationality: Greek
Age: 30
Gender: Male

Appearance:

Cyrus

Physical Appearance: Cyrus stands at a little over 5'9" with what could be described as a "Stocky build" with a slightly better defined muscular look on his left side, specifically his arm this is nothing drastic or extreme but noticeable if you stare at the man when facing his left and right sides.
Personality: Cyrus is a man of simple tastes, good food, good wine and pleasurable company. A man of relaxed and easy nature even in the worst of times. Cyrus is what you'd call laid back in his outlook of life, willing and very much able to brush off the worst people have to offer while playing host to a myriad of concerns, fears or dreams people wish to unload should they need a sympathetic ear or simply a target to went to but there is a stress Cyrus holds in his own heart that sometimes colors his reactions and actions in general.

Occupation: Cyrus was a solider, a Hoplite, a warrior to the core, but now he serves as a sell sword for the enterprising trader, merchant or anyone else that can pay his price
Backstory: Cyrus was born into a family of warriors, men who were born, raised and died as Hoplites and women who birthed, nursed and raised Hoplites. All his brothers, all his uncles, everyone of the Drakos family, be they male or female, lived to serve as warriors in some way, but Cyrus was always a bit different. Where the strict discipline his father meted out to he and his siblings turned most of them into Stoic warriors in the making but for Cyrus is just made him push the other way, not in the sense of not wanting to be a Hoplite but greeting his life grimly with a frown, no Cyrus desired to be outward facing and enthusiastic in his life. Despite his father's best efforts Cyrus was the rebel in the family but he more than made up for it in his training, top of his class so to speak as the ones he was trained with were left in the dust, not due to any skill that Cyrus inherently had over them but because Cyrus threw himself into every bit of training like someone in a desert throwing themselves at a glass of water. By the time Cyrus was mustered into the ranks of his home's military, Cyrus was on the fast track to a leading position in the local government by the time his life in service was done, but fate seemed to have a much different plan. Something happened when Cyrus was away from home, he isn't aware of what happened but when he returned his family had been wiped out, father, mother, brothers and sisters, Cyrus didn't have much time to ponder or worry as the same ones he assumed had done in his family were in wait for him. Assassins fell upon him, but he was still armed and armored and while not in a phalanx he was more than capable of holding his own ending the lives of those who set upon him and while he had wanted to stay to try and find answers the smell of burning smoke forced his hand as a fire had been started in the kitchens of his family home, the only thing he was able to escape with was his father's Kopis. Cyrus's choice to flee wasn't a thought out choice but the only one he could take, and soon he was faced with the rumors being spread that he had done it all, killed his family and started the blaze to cover up the crime though Cyrus had his own theory that another prominent family had paid a lot of money to wipe the Drakos line out he had no proof and as the pressure to try him for the crime and knowing that he wouldn't have much of a fair trial Cyrus fled Greece, fled his home and headed east to the land of Persia to find his future there.

Inventory: Spear, Hoplon shield, his father's Kopis, hoplite armor (Worn on a job not in his day to day) and finally a Corinthian helmet with a nice horse hair plum to attract clients who want to hire the "fancy foreign warrior"
Skills: Cyrus is first and foremost a warrior, that's what his life has been from the start, but he is also a novice diplomat as his father had started grooming him to take a government position after his term of service so negotiation and speaking are very much in his wheelhouse of skills.

 

[Red Thunder]

RAZIN AL-FARSI​

Name: "Razin Al-Farsi, youngest daughter of Habbas Al-Farsi the Venerable, at your service. The pleasure is all yours."

Race: "I'm Human. Obviously. Even if I weren't, do you think I'd tell you?"

Nationality: "The Al-Farsi family hails from Arabia, land of deserts and superstitious bumpkins."

Age: "27 years, thank you. And no, don't ask for my hand."

Gender: "That's rather impertinent. I'm a woman, thank you. Please remember that the next time you feel like asking such a stupid question. Better, just use your eyes, least they shrivel."

Personality: "Why, I'm remarkably sweet, amiable, generous, and very, very honest. I have patience beyond measure, and there is no one quite so humble as I.

"Others, of course, might tell you that I am stubborn, mouthy, irresponsible with word and deed, somewhat careless, and too much of a free spirit. In fact, I once had an ugly fish merchant named Sinbad tell me that he wished he was my father so he could cut out my tongue. I politely reminded him that, given the form with which Allah has blessed him, the gift of a woman's tongue is far better than he can expect in this life.

"My father gave me a- talking to after that, but twas worth it."

Occupation: "I've taken up as my father's caretaker in his older years. Someone had to; he is getting so old. I suppose I help him manage his affairs, usually serving as his memory. He doesn't often allow me to speak to his guests. Not alone, anyway; he probably thinks I would make trouble. … He isn't wrong."

Backstory: "My story is the Al-Farsi story: a tale of adventure, of intrigue, of enlightenment, and of boredom in retirement. I cannot recall when my father last did anything of special note. We celebrate the festivals and conduct our business and remain thoroughly uninteresting.

"In childhood, I was surrounded by the desert. The sands were my friends, and the east wind was my brother. My blood siblings were, of course, a great deal older than me, so I received all the care and doting love an old man can give a youngest child. At least, until his actual youngest was born around my seventh year. She's a darling, so I didn't begrudge her- much. Instead, my father involved me in other ways. He had gotten into a bit of trading by that point, so I shadowed him in that, learning what I could. Occasionally, we'd make trips to far off locations, but it was only for business, and was never for long: never more than a few months.

"Once I left childhood, my father entrusted greater amounts of asset movement and the like to me. I- it wasn't to my liking. The sands call me, you know. And the east wind. Maybe I shall go back. Some day…"

Inventory: "I have but my staff, a prop upon which to lean in the Arabian sandstorms and a weapon against undissuadeable suitors. And perhaps a dagger or two as actual weapons for protection. Obviously, as my father's assistant, I carry a small satchel with quill, ink, and parchment, not to mention a hand-sized abacus."

Skills: "My skill set is secretarial in nature. Perhaps also a bit servant and nursemaid in the care of my father. … Hm? My mother? Hah! No; she is a remarkably capable woman who has no need of care from her children. Her spirit and body is strong. She married Habbas Al-Farsi, after all…"

Powers: "Nothing worth speaking of."

 

[Doctor Jax]

Mohamed 'Hama' Ibn Sina || Human || Arabian || Male, 32

​

Disposition
Doctor. Scholar. Astronomer. Professional traveler.

Hama is a man of many talents, not that he would be one to tell you of them. Boasting brings him no joy, though others are far more apt to sing his praises in his absence. Instead, he is of quiet bearing, preferring to work in the background on his numerous projects, as many as the grains of sands stuck in his boots. That humble nature is not to be mistaken for timidness, however, especially where safety is involved, quickly turning into a nag where one's health becomes the main concern. After all, he is well-versed in the many, many ways a man can come to his untimely and painful end, and he would hate to see a member of the party reach the same ends.

History
An Arabian by birth, Hama's early life was fraught with political intrigue. His father was a minor noble with political ambitions, and in addition to his first wife, he married another - the sickly daughter of an incredibly dangerous and learned man who helped elevate his father to the position of governor. It did not take long to realize why such a marriage was arranged, and quickly - his mother was an Endowed, and Hama would soon become a prize possession.

As a child it became clear he had the ability to heal as his mother did, and already his grandfather had designs on how to use Hama as a bargaining chip in the politics of the city of Ctesiphon. However, the boy grew clever, and unwilling to become a pawn, he approached his father at a young age to send him to for schooling in medicine to Agrabah, the city of shining lights, the only place his illustrious grandfather could not reach him.

It was not solely to escape. Hama showed a distinct and passionate love for medicine, perhaps helped by his Endowment. He quickly caught on, but just as soon, he found himself starving for more knowledge. He began to travel, then, first to Turkey, then to Egypt, and then to Greece, to absorb what offerings they might have for a young and starving mind. Philosophy, astronomy, and medicine soon became his life, and it wasn't long before he made his way into the fold of Sigil, that clandestine society of learned men and philanthropists. He fit in well - already, he was volunteering his services to those plagued by ailments considered lost causes to most doctors, and for no charge.

However, eventually, his wanderlust had him heading to Persia. He collected his mother and moved them both to Isfahan, where he has found employment in a hospital. He has since adopted it as his home, though he goes on frequent trips abroad - and much to his mother's consternation, has yet to find himself a wife and produce for her grandchildren.

Abilities, Skills, and Tools
He has escaped yet again from her biting questions, taking with him his medicine bag, his astrolabe, his staff, his scimitar, and his scrolls. A very seasoned traveler, he's become especially good at navigating by the stars. He is only a decent swordfighter, however, and an even worse liar. His Endowment has come in handy for whatever group he travels in. Unfortunately, his ability has its limits. While he can heal trauma, such as slashes and crushes, if the wound has 'healed' already into a scar, there is technically nothing to fix, and he must use more conventional means to fix a badly set bone, a massive scar, poorly healed lungs, etc. His ability to heal does extend to poisons and certain ailments, such as ague and cholera, but healed damage from such ailments are beyond his control.

 

[Xenotrix Metamorph]

Would you object to me making an Egyptian character? I just read through your info but it's a lot ( nice work) so I'll be going back over it to try and Absorb more of it.

 

[Kuno]

Would you object to me making an Egyptian character? I just read through your info but it's a lot ( nice work) so I'll be going back over it to try and Absorb more of it.

Nope! Any nation that falls under the Persian Empire is fine.

 

[Red Thunder]

Would you object to me making an Egyptian character?

@Kuno

 

[Kabboom]

Is this for good guys only, or are outlaws and criminals allowed too?

 

[Kuno]

Treasure hunting is a viable career for anyone - criminal rap sheet bedamned. If your guy/gal is good at what they do, so long as they're not a murdering psychopath then they get an invite :^)

 

[Kabboom]

this Persian Empire postal service is no joke

 

[A Crow]

Enaya Ershadi
Race: Aspect
Nationality: Greek
Age: 28
Gender: Male

Appearance:
Enaya is a staggering 6'5 with long, muscular legs that stride forward with grace and confidence. His arms are proportionately just as lengthy, with large hands and elongated, slender fingers at the ends of his limbs. His shoulders are broad and powerful, framing his sturdy chest. Enaya has a thick neck adorned by his long and flowing platinum blonde, almost white, hair. He has strong facial features and a stern brow that cause him to appear harsh and critical, as if nothing he would say could possibly be anything other than scornful. His piercingly ice cold irises, which surround the dark, mysterious abyss of his pupils don't make him any more approachable.

Black tribal tattoos are sprawled over his entire body, everywhere aside from his clean-shaven face. Enaya is a lion Aspect. From this he derives pointed ears, cat-like pupils, sharp teeth and a wideset jaw, a long lion's tail and claws that extend and retract from where a human's fingernails would be. When angered, the wrinkles around his nose make him appear all the more like his lion counterpart.

Appears pale during colder seasons, but will gain a golden hue when tanned.

Prefers to wear furs over his shoulders that extend below his waist. Bandage wrappings over his wrists, around his waist and pelvis, and covering the entirety of his legs and feet. (All but his toes and heels.) Wears silver mini hoop earrings from time to time.

Personality:
Despite his harsh and cold appearance, Enaya is as gentle as can be. That is, if you are kind yourself. He has no tolerance of those with unnecessary attitudes, those who perceive themselves to be above others, or those who know no respect. But if you are not a foe, Enaya is thoughtful, considerate, generous, and very kind. He doesn't like to talk much, preferring rather to keep his thoughts within his mind. He believes in personal freedom, as he lives his life as freely as he can, as long as nobody is harming anyone else. Justice is a grey area for Enaya.

He will step in to defend others, but there are days where he simply does not care enough to be bothered with anyone else's problems. These days are rare, but they will occur. When overwhelmed, threatened, or misspoken to, Enaya will become annoyed, even infuriated, to the point he might want to hurt you. He will feel bad afterwards, though, and will undoubtedly offer you a hand up.

Rarely interested in romance. He is non-committal, as he doesn't believe there is anyone who could truly understand the complexities of his inner mind. Or anyone who could handle it, if understood, for that matter. On occasion, he is prone to become lost in his daydreams and can take a minute to snap out of it.

Prefers to remain relatively unnoticed.

Will growl or even roar if seriously pissed. Could slash you and will almost certainly deal you a black eye if you really insult him or hurt his pride.

Occupation:
Enaya is an unparalleled huntsman. He makes a living off of selling his kills to the local butchers.

Backstory:
Enaya was raised in a pack of Aspects just like himself. Lion Aspects, who truly acted just as though they were a pride in the African Savannah. Of course, with more humane morals and values. While the others were comfortable being around those that were similar to themselves, Enaya had always enjoyed time alone. His clan pondered about him, but didn't pay much mind to his preference.

As a youth, Enaya did not play well with others. Despite the gentle teachings of his mother and stern reminders from his father, Enaya had a distaste for other children. He would often shove and hit other children, insult their intelligence, and would even find himself in a few minor scraps with the kids that really challenged his patience.

Enaya began to accompany his father on his hunts, which were necessary to keep their family fed. He was quick to pick up on the idea of hunting, even aiding his father in traps, tracking, and killing with honor. His father was impressed and proud, and Enaya saw then a future in this aptitude of his.

His attitude remained a problem to be solved, however. Becoming the top huntsman in his hometown, and even in cities as far as fifty miles away at his young age did nothing to humble his ego. He walked taller and became all the more disrespectful. He eventually was threatened to have his right to hunt revoked if he did not learn to be more civil.

Another kid around his age, by the name of Ethis, took notice of Enaya. He approached him one day about his anger issues. Enaya was insulted and questioned who this stranger thought he was, then proceeded to threaten Ethis. But Ethis pursued until Enaya opened up, and became willing to listen.

When Enaya was 17, Ethis and his family once again picked up and moved away, despite their protest against it. It was not up to them, for his father had important work in Egypt. He hasn't seen or heard from him since.

His displays of arrogance are rare (but not unseen), as he has practiced a more peaceful way of life for many years in honor of his friend.

Enaya has since migrated to the flourishing city of Isfahan, Persia. Here, the requests for lamb and goat meat are nearly endless. It is different from what he is used to having to do, as it is more common to shepherd these types of animals. Still, he will hunt different animals, such as bears, deer, as wolves. Their meat and fur sell high to his customers. He makes a decent enough living.

Enaya has always dreamed of a bigger purpose in life, though any specific details on what that could entail were always obscure.

Inventory:
Enaya carries a medium-sized blade, sheathed and strapped to his right leg.
Medium leather bag strapped to his back that carries his currency, wire coil, twine, rope, a few hunting knives, a slab of cooked meat, and a roll of bandage wrappings
Snowflake obsidian necklace, silver arm cuffs, silver chain anklets with small charms.
A mysterious key he found buried in the sand when he was 14.

Skills:
-Tracking
-Hunting
-Hand-to-Hand combat
-Using small blades
-Using large blades
-Bartering and Negotiating
-Problem Resolution/ Great at solving puzzles
-Hyperobservation

Abilities:
Enaya encompasses immense strength. He can break through solid stone and even occasionally iron, but steel or titanium would be pushing it. He can lift a boulder twice his size without breaking a sweat.

Enaya can deafen those within a 200 ft. radius with his roar, including his allies and his friends. This is only if he puts enough power into it. His normal angered roars will not deafen anybody. The affected will have ringing ears, and the closest to him, within a range of 20 feet, will have shattered eardrums. His roar can be heard from three miles away.​

 

[Kuno]

Hi everyone! Posting this here so everyone can see it.

Do your scatterbrained GM a huge favor: Disregard the Powers section of the CS. If it's already filled out on your posted CS, that's fine! You won't be penalized since this is my mistake. I've already amended the template for future sheets so the Powers section is not included.

I have a couple of reasons for this. One is that due to the limited variants of Aspect clans and Endowed powers, I thought it would be best to clarify the limitations and spectrum of abilities given to each class in the ever-expanding lore.

Also, as recompense for this blunder, I have a special surprise for accepted characters :^)

Thank you guys for your patience!

 

[MiharuAya]

The Mystical Simurgh​

​

Name
Errol Demir

Aspect Type
Bird

Age
18

Birthdate
December 5th

Gender
Male

Species
Aspect

Occupation
Street Performer/Theif

Nationality
Turkish

Appearance

Hair: While from a distance, Errol appears to have medium-length, wavy golden-brown hair. It is only under closer inspection that it can be discovered that his hair is really no hair at all. Instead, it is actually feathers. The top of his head or crest is covered in speckled golden-brown feathers, that like most birds can fluff up and down when startled or angry. At the sides of his head sits a pair of ear tufts that stand upright when he is alert, or drape down the side of his face when calm. (Example: One, Two)​

​

Eyes: With a pair of sharp amber-colored eyes, his orbs are about one and a half times as large as a normal human. Like birds, the increase in size contributes in part to their visual acuity. Errol also has ciliary muscles that help to view objects at varying distances.​

​

Height: At a meager five foot three inches, Errol is considered quite short by human standards. However, for his species, this is very normal. Similarly to birds, the body is designed to be as lightweight as possible to make it easier to achieve flight. Therefore, having a short frame is beneficial to his species.​

​

Weight: Errol weighs just over a hundred pounds. Errol has a low percentage of body fat, and muscles. Although part of his low amount of body fat is due to food scarcity, he also has a high metabolism that prevents him from gaining weight or muscles easily.​

​

Build: With being both short and slim, Errol has a petite frame. His wings, which double as his arms, are slightly long, while his legs are more average for his build. (Example: One, Two, Three)​

​

Complexion: While his skin is a beautiful bronze tone, the feathers that adorn his wings and body are a range of bright rainbow colors. (Example: One)​

​

Plumage: The feathers start at the top of his head, spreading down the back of his neck to where his wings connect to his back. From there, his feathers continue to travel down his spine until the tailbone. At the tailbone, a two-foot-long fan-shaped tail protrudes from his body.​

​

Wings: Errol has an approximately five-foot wingspan when they are fully stretched. At the end of the wings are his hands, each finger ending in a sharp claw.​

Personality

Affectionate, Curious, Loyal, Naive, Clever, Intuitive, Excitable, Compassionate, Ambitious, Charismatic, Playful, Courageous, Empathetic, Selfless, Genuine, Sociable, Individualistic, Proud, Secretive, Passionate​

​

Strengths​

Optimistic: Despite all the hardships that Errol has had to face, he still believes that with enough hard work and determination that he can change both his situation and that of his clans. Even though he has many obstacles, he is determined to achieve the life that he wants.​

​

Selfless: In everything he does, it is for the benefit of his clan. Ever since he was a child, he vowed to one day give them a life where they could live comfortably and without any fears. This is his main goal in life and the reason that he is able to keep moving forward in the face of hardships. Even in his daily life, it is not unusual for him to stop to help someone in need.​

​

Weaknesses​

Prejudiced: Despite being a Turk himself, Errol has come to resent his homeland. After being persecuted and forced to flee, his outlook on the country and its people has gone sour. Even now he feels a great deal of animosity towards them, and others with similar opinions of Aspects. It isn't unusual for him to become irritable or ignore them altogether when forced to be around them.​

​

Meddlesome: With his inquisitive nature, Errol often ends up sticking his nose into other people's business. Although he always has good intentions, it doesn't always appear that way to others. At times he can be unknowingly intrusive. This, combined with his sympathetic attitude towards others, means that he inserts himself into situations that don't involve him and try to help or fix them. Often unable to turn a blind eye knowing someone is struggling. But, this behavior doesn't always have a good outcome.​

​

Suspicious: After years of persecution and oppression, Errol has become distrustful of people and constantly has to question their intentions. He has grown accustomed to having to hide from people. Even when he appears friendly, he is always waiting for the moment that they will betray or hurt him. Despite his desperate desire for connections, it takes him a long time to fully trust someone.​

Biography

Occupation: Street Performer & Theif​

When in need of money, Errol will often perform on the street to passing crowds. While this usually consists of aerial routines, he has also been a roadside oddity. Although at times this can be humiliating, he takes advantage of people's distractions to pickpocket and steal their valuables.​

​

Backstory: Errol was born in Turkey in a clan of other bird Aspects. When he was just a young boy, his clan was often harassed and persecuted. This continued until they were chased from their homes and had to flee with nothing but the clothes on their back. Since then, they often migrate around without settling anywhere for too long. Errol will often venture into nearby cities and settlements to make money for his clan.​

Extra

[/INDENT]

Inventory:​

Hooded Cloak: He often wears this in order to go unnoticed, and avoid trouble due to his feathers and wings.​

​

Dagger: This is solely for his protection, though he doesn't like to use it unless necessary. He stole it off of some affluent-looking man.​

​

Skills: ​

Voice: With a wide vocal range, Errol has a bewitching singing voice. His clan has songs and melodies that have been passed down for generating that he learned as a small child. As he grew older, he practiced and improved. He has now collected songs from all over Persia.​

​

Pickpocketing: After years of watching his family live in poverty while the rich sultans and officials grew richer, Errol decided to take some of that wealth for himself. He has spent years perfecting his movements to the point he can steal valuables from someone with ease.​

​

Aerial Performer: Errol has never been against using his beautiful and unique body to make money. With the help of his wings, he is able to delicately glide through the air, performing intricate maneuvers and routines.​

​

Drawbacks:​

Fragile: Like most birds, Errol has thin and hollow bones which help to make his body lighter. However, this makes him much more susceptible to injuries than the average person. A fall from a decent height could easily break his legs while being struck could easily break his rips or nose.​

​

Code by @DANAsaur

 

[Princess Rose]

Are you still accepting characters?

 

[Kuno]

Are you still accepting characters?

Hi! I set the deadline for character sheets for July 11th. I will be accepting a maximum of six players. Members are free to submit sheets until that date.

Thanks for your interest!

 

[Princess Rose]

if you are still accepting I can get a character sheet out in that time.

 

[Hell Hound Woof]

YOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO I'm building an app rn

 

[Takumi]

Name: Emry Yilmaz

Race: Aspect

Aspect Type: Goat

Nationality: Turkish

Age: 21

Gender: Male



Appearance:

Emry has a lean build, with platinum blonde, almost white hair and gray fur starting at his hips and down to his hooved feet. Atop his head are two pronged horns that have stopped maturing, but add an inch or two to his height of 5'4". Due to spending quite a bit of time in the sun most days, he tans easily into a more tanned skin tone.



Personality:

Emry is rather quiet, finding it hard to sometimes clearly and efficiently express his thoughts through words alone, and sometimes depends more on actions to convey what he's feeling or wants to say/get across. While he can be friendly to most he keeps his distance in most cases of first meeting someone.

Emry can sometimes be so in his head that the rest of the world around him fades into background noise. It doesn't happen too often, but when it does he may need something repeated to him a few times. Otherwise, he does his best at most tasks and works hard, wanting to help his family at heart.

Occupation: Fisherman, Merchant, and self proclaimed rock collector. If the rock has an odd shape or color, you bet it's going in his 'rock pouch'. While the term merchant is one he uses rather loosely, he doesn't mind trading or selling whatever baubles or odds and ends he's found to anyone interested if it'll give him a little extra coin, and has once or twice traded away or sold some of his rocks in his collection when in need of coin for simple medical supplies.



Backstory:

Growing up in a rather small Aspect clan that had a few among them that left and traveled or were once merchants, Emry always looked up to the Elders of their clan, but none more than old Burak Caliskan, who looked after him and his older sibling like a grandparent would and back when he was much younger, was a part of another clan that was nomadic, and was once much bigger before splitting into smaller groups. Burak always teased him growing up by commenting that unlike his older half brother Ahmet, who took more after their Father Nadir in looks and temperment, Emry ended up getting his hair and fur color more so from their calm and cool tempered Mother Deniz, yet seemed more so like the wind to the old goat, unpredictable and always on the move.

While many in their clan were either too old and frail or too young to work, both his father and mother did what they could to ensure that both he and Ahmet were as comfortable as can be, his father turning to labor to provide some form of money while his mother sold and traded whatever odd baubles and ends she'd find or make. She'd taught him to make simple bead or thread bracelets and how to mend cloth, and once when their clan started to become nomadic once more, took him to the nearest body of water to collect stones which started his hobby of rock collecting, mostly for a passtime, but also to see if they could find anything that could be of value. This is also when she began teaching him how to swim.

This eventually led to her having him begin working with her as a sort of assistant, where he quickly began to see just how deep the dislike for those of Aspect clans seemed to run. She told him that, no matter what he will do in life, to always be careful around humans. While many in Turkey sought academia and scientific advancements for the country while looking down to Aspects and relied on them for servitude and other fields of work, his clan continued to struggle outside of those being able bodied to pick up jobs of labor with varying degrees of pay until they found themselves outside of Rasht shortly after he turned twenty. Here, Emry had found some rather decent work in the fishing city, at least for a while due to an old man that was willing to employ any able bodied young men up for the job no matter the pay and his clan settled into the city proper to give their elderly some rest.

Inventory:

On Emry's person he carries a satchel with thread and needle, a pouch with what remains of his rock collection, a few bracelets and bangles tucked away in a separate, brown pouch for potential sale, a waterskin and knife in his sash as well as a cloak in case he needs to cover and hide his horns and ears. He also has a tunic top (something like this) that he wears on occasion, which he usually keeps folded in his satchel.

Skills: Fishing, swimming, sewing, very basic first aid, and climbing. Emry can traverse rough rocky terrain due to his hooves, and has done so a few times during his clans travels. While Emry can fight, he's not very skilled or trained outside of childhood wrestling matches with the few other goat Aspects his age or slightly older, and his skills with a knife are mostly used for tasks such as cooking or gutting fish or game. Though, he can pack quite a strong kick or headbutt. In fact, he has a rather sturdy and hard skull, as many of the goat aspect have.

 

[Kabboom]

Name: Alim Arslan Yafir

Race: Human

Nationality: Turkish

Age: 26

Gender: Male


Appearance:

Personality: None of your business. Alim is very secretive of his habits, per his occupational hazards. The facade that most people see is of a cold, unscrupulous, immoral scoundrel. He would be the kind of man to try and sell counterfeit goods at nearly double the price, and kill the buyer anyway for his goods back. Always chomping at the bit for a scam or a crime, he doesn't seem to perceive people based on their attributes or personality traits - only on how much value he can get out of manipulating them or killing them outright.

Those who somehow pierce his veil of contempt will find a different person entirely. Trust issues, abandonment issues, sleeping issues, Alim is damaged goods personified. Years of being on the run, being a pariah among society and treating others like expendable pawns has taken a toll on his mind - he doesn't know who to trust but himself, and dreads the day when his life is put in the hands of others.

Occupation: Saboteur, resistance fighter, drug smuggler, spreadsheet filler, criminal

Backstory: Rebellion is like a tree - the leaves can be plucked, whole branches cut off, and the bark can be smothered of its life, but its deep roots will live on. Alim's roots grew from his father, who showed his leaves quite proudly. He was born in Istanbul as the son of a businessman and a seamstress, and young Alim was his mother's helper when his father was gone; when Yafir Sr. came home, he would often be accompanied by business partners, and he often sent Alim to play with his childhood friends in the alleyway. They didn't make much money, but it was enough to keep Alim fed at night and to buy him new toys, even if they were of cheap quality and only lasted for a day or two. Young Yafir went to school, proved himself in the field of mathematics, made his family proud, and even had a budding relationship with a cute girl he knew. He was happy with his life - that's why it fell apart.

His father spoke openly among his business friends, and sometimes as a child, Alim would eavesdrop on their conversations - he would inevitably lose interest though, as the talks always became too complicated for him to follow. What he did grasp was that his father was fond of Aysel the Effervescent's predecessor - a fondness that turned to bitterness when the usurpation came to pass. Alim wouldn't have paid it any mind; old fathers ramble for a living after all. He thought it was only natural, the new consumes the old and the world moves on. He was nervous about his future under Aysel for a moment, how his future with the lovely girl would go.

He was silent when he returned to a destroyed home with his father's corpse strewn in front, slain by city guards. His mother was arrested for collusion and harboring his father, and his mother's humble storefront trashed, her assets seized. His thoughts of the old future, of normal life, ceased ever since. There was nothing left but burning vengeance. Young Yafir's roots of rebellion dug deep, and soon blossomed into hatred when he stabbed a city guard to death later that night.

Alim retreated into the slums and wilds ever since, making friends on the unsavory side of life in Istanbul. Using his previous schooling and specialization in mathematics, he was able to make a name for himself as a neat organizer and logistics wizard, earmarking him as an invaluable asset to aspiring crime lords and revolutionaries alike. After a brief stint with the former, Alim flocked to the latter like a moth to the flame, becoming as Accursed as his father once was; only one thought dominated his mind: justice for his father, death for Aysel the Persian Puppet. Being hunted by Persia's best meant that he could no longer live any singular life with a modicum of honesty - thus began his long streak of aliases and secret tasks among his new family.

Perhaps he stabbed two city guards in the throat after they crept too close to a 'friendly' establishment. Maybe he led an Aspect gang in a night raid on a rural garrison, stealing their weapons and slitting the guards' throats in their sleep. Mayhaps he orchestrated the ruthless assassination of a pro-Aysel bureaucrat in front of his own family on a busy street that was bizarrely devoid of available witnesses. Some days he was called 'Lion', other days he was 'Khalq', and some nights he was 'Camel Boss', and those were just the aliases he fancied. Young Yafir travelled far and wide across Turkey and Persia, made many friends, even helped establish an opium smuggling ring from Kerman all the way to Tehran to generate profit for his Accursed associates.

His life on the wrong side of the law may never fully be known - maybe none of it is even true. What is certain, however, is his current situation. Alim's burning hatred had brought him a long way, from a lowly son of an outspoken rebel to a secretive Accursed coordinator keeping notes on Allah knows how many rebel assets across Turkey and Persia. When the Headmen nipped a sizeable Turkish rebel force in the bud before they could carry out their assassination attempt on Aysel, was it any surprise that their weaponry were traced directly back to Alim?

His safehouse was soon raided by government forces - Alim escaped through a tunnel. The Persians scoured the outskirts for him, going from house to house - Alim hid beneath a companion's bed while she deceived the soldiers. The Persians blocked the main routes of travel and interrogated everyone who travelled on those paths - Alim took the pass less travelled, and almost got killed by a slumbering Golem on the way. In a mundane secondary safehouse disguised as a hookah shop, the 'Lion' sits alone; his most precious papers, plans, inventories, weapons, all destroyed or seized. The leaves have been plucked, and the tree burnt down - but the roots dug deep, and with a new letter delivered via falcon, perhaps Alim will get the riches required to regrow his tree of rebellion after all.

Inventory: Alim travels light on purpose. Anything not worn externally is crammed into his traveling satchel.

• A well-worn Shamshir, sheathed in a sand-battered scabbard
• Tailored chestplate with pauldrons and armored gauntlets, thin and discrete enough to fit beneath most robes
• Three (3) short khanjar blades in homemade straps
• A good sling (the one for throwing stones at unhealthy speeds) coiled on the inside of his waist sash
• A slightly burnt and heavily weathered red patch of cloth weaved by his mother

Skills:

• Lying and being a belligerent asshole
• Practical swordfighting techniques
• Good enough aim with a sling
• Dirty fighting
• Mental computation
• Traversing and navigating new and/or inhospitable lands
• Juggling