Ray Heart (Completed/Finished)

Novama

Edgepeasant
Original poster
FOLKLORE MEMBER
Posting Speed
  1. One post per day
Online Availability
7pm-10pm est
Writing Levels
  1. Beginner
  2. Elementary
  3. Intermediate
  4. Adept
  5. Advanced
  6. Adaptable
Preferred Character Gender
  1. Male
Genres
Fantasy, Scifi, Magical
This is the RP Ray Heart. It is a fantasy, adventure, action roleplay where roleplayers will take on the roles of citizens in a fantasy city filled to bursting with conflict and wonder.

Link to our OOC Discord: Join the Beasts & Preists Discord Server!
 
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Setting
Ray City
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A massive, walled city surrounded by rolling hills and fields with mountains and forests beyond those, it is the capital of The Kingdom. A city state with the surrounding land its soveign territory, the comparably small political body is on the border of a few different countries. The world is currently in an uneasy peace between the major countries of the world and Ray City is at the heart of it all. A melting pot of people, culture, and ideals.

While the world beyond the walls is a somewhat dangerous place with magical beasts roaming the land and occasionally causing trouble, the city is a mostly civilized space where law and order attempts to fight back against the growing chaos in the world. However, too much control can also bring about undesirable consequences.

The city is governed by an elected body of representatives from each of the major districts in the city. The elected body's word is law and to carry out their bidding is a militaristic police force. Generally, the decrees of the council are fair and just and lead to the betterment of the city in some way. However, with such a diverse populace, it is hard for any one law or piece of guidance to go unchallenged.

Eldritch Knights
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The law enforcing and protective body of the city, the knights are a wide array of individuals particularly gifted in a number of ways. Believing in the rule of law and that adherence to them will ultimately lead to a better and more peaceful world, they carry out their role in society with pride. To become a knight, one must possess one or more supernatural qualities or potentials and then they may be accepted into the squire program. Many apply every year to join the corp, but few are chosen and fewer still remain in the program until they are knighted. Despite the thorough process through which the knights are chosen and cultivated, bad apples are still able to get in or appear. What's more, a sword and shield are only as merciful and just as the one that uses them.

Merchantile
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Another large faction in the city next to the Eldritch Knights, Mercantile is a collection of merchants, mercs, traders, adventurers. The chaotic answer to the order of the city, this gathering of individuals are more in favor of personal freedoms and the right to do as they please. Many of the city's businesses and self employed citizens associate or are members with this faction. Their ideals regularly bring them into conflict with the Eldritch Knights and the city council. Anyone can join Mercantile, but there is no handholding. You make it or get left behind by your own merits. In a way, it is more cutthroat than the Eldritch Knight's training program. Due to the Mercantile faction being made up of several businesses and 'Bosses', there is only the loosest of leadership for the faction made of some of the more senior or ambitious members. Any group endeavor is like herding cats, however.

Technology
The city enjoy lamp lit streets and indoor plumbing. While they do not have electricity, magic has made a number of conveniences possible in the home. Beast pulled carriages and carts are the main forms of travel. There are rumors the council has access to airships although none have been widely witnessed in the sky. While black powder exists and is used by the Eldritch Knights in the city's wall defense with cannons, personal firearms do not exist. Attempts to use them in such a way have resulted in bodily and property damage.

Races
The dominant race is human with the next most prevalent racing being that have beast kin.
Beast kin is the term used for any humanoid with a distant animal/beast ancestry. Gnolls, Were-folk, Mer-folk, dracokin, and many more fall into this category. Despite their more wild and emotional natures, they are more tamed than the beasts they descend from and find enough excitement and kinship in the city to keep them just content enough.
Fae are the next most prevalent. Entities tied to nature and magic, they tend to be the most long lived and magically inclined. While most prefer to live in the farthest reaches of the world far from man, many still come to the human world and Ray City in particular to experience what they never could in the mountains, forests, and oceans depths. Elves, dwarves, fairies, gnomes, and other creatures such as these make up this race.
Lastly, there's the Undead.
The undead are made up of all the creatures not traditionally born. They are not alive in the traditional sense, but they are not dead either. From flesh golems, souls trapped in automotons, and vampires to zombies, ghouls, and Ghosts, the group is as diverse as it is few. The lower their mental capabilities are, the more likely they are excised on sight or forced into slave labor. The more intelligent of their number are cursed/blessed with seemingly endless life.

The various races live together, but the tendency for some of the races to feed on or kill the others has led to tension regularly. Sins of the past and slave labor of some in the present also rubs some the wrong way. However, the diversity has led to a mixing of ideas and ideals that have led to many of the advances in technology and governance that the city enjoys over the rest of the continent.

Mysticism
This world has magic. The magic is created, granted, conjured, pulled, or summoned from all manner of sources and for just as many purposes. The only real constant is that it's chaotic. Any magic performed uses the host as a conduit through which it flows. As a consequence, all those who dabble in the supernatural have less durable bodies. What's more, even those most simple of magics has the potential to backfire on its caster. Magic in this world goes by many names: magic, ki, chi, spirit, psionics, blessings, curses, etc..
 
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  • Creative
Reactions: BigBirdie
Rules
  1. Post in 3rd person​
  2. Post at least a few sentences. (what is the character doing, what are they saying, has the scene changed any)​
  3. I'm the only one that moves time in rp.​
  4. Please message me with any questions or problems you have with the rp or its members.​
  5. Message me the filled out character sheet before you start posting​
  6. You may post as soon as you send me the character sheet (even if it has not been posted to the list)​
  7. Do not auto-hit or auto-succeed at everything. Combat and skill based outcomes are decided by me​
  8. Any roleplay for the rp or the characters that does not take place in the main roleplay thread is not canon​
  9. Let people know if you can't post for a while or if you are dropping the rp.​
  10. You may only have one active character in the rp at one time. 2nd characters can only come in when first is retired/dead.​
  11. Any npc's that are created/referenced can and will be controlled by me as the need arises.​
 
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Character Skeleton
(copy it, fill it out, message it to me for approval and adding)
(you may post in the rp once you send it to me)
Player Name:
Character Name:
Faction: Mercantile or Eldritch Knights (other options are possible but won't necessarily have story support)
Job: (What is the character's profession or what do they do for a living. This will dictate what knowledge, skills, and resources they would likely have access to. The more specific, the better. Ex: Shoe Merchant, Roaming swordsman, Geology Scholar, etc...)
Source: (if you can use some form of supernatural energy aka magic, list a 2nd job that indicates where your magic comes from and how it might be used/channeled. The more specific the better. Ex: Priest of the one true god, Scholarly fire wizard, Accursed of Cthulhu, etc..)
Body: ( list a number from 1 to 5. Body represents how capable your character ((along with all its skills, magic, items, and other enhancements)) is when it comes to physical activities. Climbing, swinging a sword, and weathering a period without food might all be impacted by this.)
Mind: (list a number from 1 to 5. Mind represents how capable your character is when it comes to mental activities. Knowing things, recalling information, and performing skilled based activities where it's more about knowing how to do it than actually doing it are all examples)
Magic: (list a number from 1 to 5. Magic represents how capable your character is when it comes to the use of magic to perform supernatural feats. Casting a fireball, sending out a shockwave with the swing of your sword, and enhancing your body to withstand cannon fire are all examples of magic use.)
Health: (this is a number I will fill in and update over the course of the rp. it represents how close your character is to dying or being knocked unconscious. The higher your body, mind, magic are, the lower your health with be at max.)
Character Appearance: (either picture or word description. Real and cartoon pictures are both accepted)
Extras: (anything else you wish to share about your character to have a permanent record of in the character list. common things may be aliases, nicknames, physical measurements, sexual preferences, pronouns, specific skills, equipped items, abilities, backstory etc....)
 
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Character List
Character Name: Nyxus Aragon (Nicks-us eh-ruh-gaan)
Faction: Mercantile
Job: Roaming freelance sorcerer

Having no concrete occupation, Nyxus spends most of his time doing odd jobs and small-time missions in the places he visits. He often takes jobs requiring the extermination of low-grade creatures or innocuous fetch quests, though he sometimes partakes in dangerous missions to test himself and hone his skills.

Unless stationed by an employer, Nyxus is often on the move: traveling from village to city to find work. Due to this, he prefers not to stay in their confines: usually setting up a small camp outside of their walls, allowing him to tune his spells and cultivate his mushrooms in peace.

Source: With a peculiar ability unique to his kingdom, Nyxus can tap into a latent power to improve his defenses or temporarily enchant weapons. One oddity to this power is that it can’t be used freely: one must consume a special fungus known as an Ethercap beforehand. These mushrooms contain a unique substance that temporarily unlocks this latent power, allowing the user to channel it into various forms of magic.

Ethercaps only sprout in areas with zero sunlight and require ample time to grow. Though an uncommon sight in caverns and dungeons alike, they are highly identifiable by their ghostly blue hue and the celeste mist-like spores they constantly emit.
Body: 2
Mind: 4
Magic: 5
Health: 11
Appearance:
Image


Extras:
Nicknames/Aliases: Nyx
Height: 5’11 (180.34 CM)
Age: 25
Gender: Male
Sexuality: Heterosexual
Pronouns: He/Him

Skills: Nyxus primarily uses his magic to enchant his weapons or apply buffs to himself. By channeling his magic into his body, he can harden his natural defenses, such as: making his body more resilient to stabbing or slashing attacks, resist the effects of heat or cold, stave off ailments like fear, or resist the effects of weaker magic.

-By channeling his magic into his weapons, Nyxus can make them lighter, pierce or slash through armor easier, or set them ablaze with a mystical flame for extra effect. These enhancements can only be applied to himself, however.

-Nyxus has considerable knowledge in the use and maintenance of greatswords. His greatsword is light compared to most, allowing him to be more nimble on his feet.

-Outside of combat, Nyxus has several skills in the topic of survival. He knows how to set up a camp, start a fire, hunt creatures, and cook a meal. He is also knowledgeable in viniculture: being able to grow an assortment of edible mushrooms.

Equipment:

Wyrm’s Tooth: A light greatsword created from a special metal alloy that reduces its weight. Named by Nyxus during his time underground, there several runic letters located on the handle, reading its name. Though purchased from a local blacksmith in his clan, Nyxus can temporarily enchant it for added effects to his attacks. Depending on the enchantment, the sword becomes enveloped in an ethereal hue - though it goes back to normal once it wears off.

Dagger: A simple steel dagger used if Nyxus cannot use his greatsword. Light and dependable, it comes in handy for simple tasks like cutting rope, meat, et cetera.

Leather knapsack: An small unordinary knapsack used to store Nyxus’ Ethercaps. Sealed tightly to prevent sunlight exposure, it can hold up to 20 individual caps at once. Curiously, the bag seems to have a faint blue glow when placed in a dark environment.

Background:

Hidden deep within the caverns near the western mountains, Nyxus was born a prince to the Beryl Throne: a kingdom of subterranean dracokin driven underground generations ago. He had a luxurious upbringing: enjoying the exotic foods served daily, the boundless riches from above, and all the power granted by his title. While he and his father wallowed in unbridled luxury, conflict began to stir deep within the hearts of their subject. Essential resources were taxed and made inaccessible to the public, leading to scarcity and desperation.

As he came of age, Nyxus was introduced to the strange arts of magic. His father taught him how to tap into his latent power and channel its influence into his body - with the assistance of the humble Ethercap, of course. Meanwhile, Nyxus would take up the blade, training under his father’s general watch. Soon he would accompany the merchants traveling in and out of his kingdom to the surface, granting safe passage to travelers and assisting the guards with keeping the trails safe. He would become a common sight in public areas, often offering civilians the surplus of his plunders.

Despite his attempts to equate with his subjects, Nyxus could not quell the growing contempt towards the royal family.

It all culminated in one fateful night. Rather than being awoken by his royal advisor, he was met with the sound of yelling and commotion. Peering out the window, he could see waves of resentful civilians outside his castle: some yelling brazen threats to the King and some brandishing crudely forged weapons, their intent very clear.

Immediately, Nyxus hurried to his father’s chambers only to be met with a disheartening sight. The once-proud king of the Beryl Throne was now reduced to a sniveling, frightened man. Nyxus didn’t have time to comfort his father before he heard the yelling in the halls and the unhinging of the chamber’s door.

Now he is no longer royalty; The once-great prince, now an aimless vagabond: a husk of his former self.

...

Nyxus is now on his way towards Ray City: a giant melting-pot where anyone can make a name for themselves. He hopes he can reclaim just a smidgen of his former glory. He’ll just have to see what this city’s got in store for him.
Player Name: Valkan
Character Name: Aramil Argannon

Faction: Eldritch Knights

Job: Outrider Knight
Aramil hates sitting around too much, so in order to expand his knowledge in all areas (mostly for destructive purposes), he takes on missions all over the land. Anything from gathering information, to gathering plants. However, where he truly shines is in combat. Where he is an ace in causing damage, be it to opponents, or a targeted building.

Source: Spiritual Bond
When young and naïve, eager to learn the secrets of magic. Aramil came across a spirit named Quighal. The spirit offered power and magical knowledge to him, in exchange for the magic being used as Quighal willed. Not knowing any better, Aramil sealed the deal with the spirit, which indeed granted him a great influx of power. The catch the spirit had put on their deal was that Aramil's magic was bound to be a destructive force, or one to make said force last. So while he does have some skill in other areas of magic, they don't excel unless they somehow help Quighal's chaotic whim.

Body: 3
Mind: 2
Magic: 5
Health: 12

Character Appearance:
Here

Extras:
  • Race: Human
  • Height: 181 cm
  • Weight: 79 kg
  • Aliases/nicknames: Dusk Lightning, Spear of Quighal, Lord Argannon, Ari (close people)
  • Color: Indigo
  • Equipment: A black staff, a couple of hidden knives, vials with several poisons, their antidotes, some potions, and his blessed cloak of great shielding capabilities.
  • Likes: Forests, windy days, sculpting, (begrudgingly) destruction
  • Dislikes: Complex puzzles, drinking, staleness, obscene greed
Backstory:
Aramil was born the son of a middle class family of brewers. Unexceptional brothers and sisters, unexceptional parents, uneventful childhood. But he had dreams of greatness, from all the books of magic he read as he grew up. And while his dedication was slowly paying off, and he began to show magical prowess, he felt like it was not enough. So he started to delve deeper into shady methods of acquiring power. That's how one day he met Quighal. The spirit quickly lured Aramil into a deal, taking advantage of the young boy's greed for strength. Entrapping him into a deal which forced him into using magic to destroy if he wanted to live the life he wanted.

This contract he took had his family quite upset. In fear this contract may envelop the household in misery, Aramil's parents kicked him out. Having nowhere else to go, and nothing else to do. Aramil wandered around the lands of Ray City, perfecting the cursed gift of Quighal as he did. Years passed, and by then Aramil was accustomed to his life as a vagrant who lived off of odd jobs, when a particularly angry mob started a violent riot near a place he was sleeping. An Eldritch Knight was assigned to track down this mob, as the riot was something premeditated. By the time he stepped in, Aramil had taken the whole group out of commission. It was done tad bit violently for the Knight's taste, but there was no denying this vagrant's might. The two talked over a nice meal, where Aramil was convinced to try for the Eldritch Knights.

In no time, Aramil was now a part of the Knights, wandering the land yet again. Not to subsist though, but to help the city. He had gotten used so much to his travelling style, that despite having a fine residence in a comfortable spot inside the walls, he barely uses it.
Player Name: Nero Kunivas

Character Name: Kallias Drakos

Faction: Mercantile

Job: Hired Mercenary and Apothecary, often taking odd jobs, urgent tasks and hits in the former and the latter wherein Kallias makes use of his Blood Magic to heal ailments medicine cannot. Often Kallias will not scruple as to the nature of his jobs, as most people who have hits/bounty's put on them or the beasts he is paid to slay have brought it upon themselves or are just too much of a problem to ignore. Even his healing powers are not used out of altruism.

Source: Cursed. Kallias's father was a vindictive and devious man who had somehow won the affections of a beautiful maiden and conceived a son together. But during her pregnancy, Kallias's mother found herself as the subject of many experiments by the father who sought to create "the perfect son" and as a result, Kallias is for all intents and purposes: An abomination of alchemy and dark magics.

Body: 3
Mind: 4
Magic: 5
Health: 11

Character Appearance: Kallias Drakos is 6'3, underweight and as such rather skinny, with deathly pale skin, faded lips and lengthy white hair that goes below the shoulders. By contrast, his eyes are a brilliant red and only serve as another marker of his altered self. His facial features are sharp, he is clean shaven and the absence of dark circles around his eyes and generally energetic demeanor give lie to the appearance of a weak and sickly man.

Kallias wears a predominantly red ensemble, with a long coat deliberately coloured the same as blood with a wide and high collar along with an exaggerated lapel, a darker red button up shirt hidden under the ludicrous coat, slacks and boots. His entire fashion sense carries the air of a pompous aristocrat with a sinister edge coupled with an extra flair for the dramatic.

Extras:

Aliases/Titles: Lord Drakos, The Bloody Handyman, Sanguine Claw, Master, Kali (Close friends only)

Abilities: Cursed since birth, Kallias has become a strong practitioner of Hemomancy, able to use it to mend as well as maim whomever he pleases, as well as other dark magics.

Before his powers manifested, Kallias has always been plagued by one particular side effect: The Thirst. Manifesting as a constantly feeling of being parched and unable to quench it through water, soon developing into a deep desire to feed upon blood and if left unchecked, will gradually cause Kallias's instincts to take over and turn him feral. To Kallias, blood is as nourishing as a refreshing drink or hot bowl of soup, depending on his mood, but either way was deliberately ordained by his father to keep him feeding.

To mend, Kallias's Hemomancy can be used to soothe pain, clear blood of what ails it, i.e: Poison, and even restore youth and strength.

To maim, Kallias's Hemomancy lets him drain the life from foes to heal himself, blast them with blood bolts individually or in a charged up nova and infect his targets with a virulent blood-plague, which temporarily weakens targets before it bursts, harming them further and healing Kallias. If he is able to drain a target multiple times in quick succession, Kallias will enter a "Blood Rush" where he will become faster and hit harder for a very short time.

More advanced techniques include sinking into a pool of blood to avoid harm, duplicating himself via clones of blood, harming himself to amplify his powers, using blood to extend his weapon's reach or apply a blood-based poison to it. Along with the creation of blood weapons, these powers seem to have roots in the darker magics his father provided.

Equipment: Clawed gloves of which he is titled after, the Sanguine Claws are one of his main ways to injure his enemies to get blood out of them quickly. He possesses a spellbook of his own making that allows him to use very advanced blood magic and teach others his ways, along with a pocket watch that holds sentimental value to him.

- Kallias is not a Vampire, he is a Human, cursed by a father who's true desires still remain a mystery. Did he want a Vampire son, to artificially make himself one? No one will ever know, as he was Kallias's first and likely most vengeful kill.
- Kallias is much older than he looks, exactly how long he will not say, but he has lived for at least longer than a century or two if any of this occasional trivia is anything to go by.
- Kallias is the head of a cult called the "Sanguine Ring", where like-minded individuals, or just those enamored by his personality, can learn the ways of Hemomancy in a far more safe and less detrimental fashion than he himself did, but are otherwise free to do what they want with their power.
- Being an affluent man, Kallias has connections and influence in the right places to keep him out of trouble and get him the latest intelligence on which scoundrel he can feed upon next.
- Due to magical backfire, Kallias's blood vessels in his hands and arms are greatly pronounced and scarred, thus he hides them under his long sleeves and gloves.
- Kallias's blood is a blackish red, functions as an igniting element and is poisonous to actual Vampires. When his own blood is exposed to air, it seems to emanate dark energy.
- His pronouns are He/Him and he is Pansexual.

Backstory: Not too much is known about his past life, only what Kallias has told his cult: Even before he was born, Kallias was the subject of his father's deplorable experimentation that transformed him into the man he is today. Frequently during his childhood, Kallias's father would lock him in a room with whatever homeless wretch he could find at the time and just wait until the poor boy went feral and devoured the victim, just so he could observe how quickly a blood-deprived hemomancer could drain someone dry. The very last time this occurred was when Kallias's own mother was thrown into his cage.

Growing up into a anger filled and resentful teenager, Kallias learned how to use his Hemomancy, both according to his father's demands and his own desire to get strong enough to kill him. It was only after he finally did the deed did he discover that his father was a wealthy aristocrat that had always delighted in causing suffering without anyone ever stopping him. A spoiled brat turned sadist, essentially. What's more, he was grooming Kallias to be his heir and intended to leave him everything in his Last Will, which he had already written up in preparation for his son's ascension. He just didn't quite imagine the boy would kill him himself.

Covering up the murder, he would claim his father's money, titles and position, as was his written right and live a very comfortable life, burying his issues and pain under the persona he projects to this day. Throughout his long life, he has felt a wanderlust and desire to just, do things, no matter what they were, which quickly evolved into joining the Mercantile and taking whatever jobs were on offer, executing many of the ones that required killing, and healing, with ruthless efficiency.

No matter what he did though, he could not stop his Thirst. It was genetic and had nothing to do with his Hemomancy at all, just a lingering act of spite from his father. He could only adapt his technique, teach it to others who were interested and spare them the horrors he himself had to suffer to become the Hemomancer he is today. Though this noble desire was quickly twisted when he realized just how much influence he could command and soon transformed his teaching ways into a cult of personality around himself, bathing in his adoring fans attention and the blood of his victims, typically that of criminals, scumbags or anyone who attempts to swindle him out of his life at the top.

Personality: Kallias is incredibly eccentric, arrogant and most definitely narcissistic, being the head of a cult, frequently commissioning artists to create works in his image, addressing himself as Lord and Master to his Cultists and having an extremely hedonistic lifestyle. This is but a shroud, all in the name of burying his latent pain and mental trauma while ensuring he can indulge in everything life can offer him, to make up for his former imprisonment.

When working with others in the Mercantile, he is noticeably more affable and down to earth if still a little bit haughty (With a posh accent) and creepy (Dark tone of voice and a penchant for morbid curiosity), but he tries to be friendly and courteous to those in his line of work.

Those he heals he treats with a decent bedside manner and while it's primarily in the name of promoting his Hemomancy to those who might be interested, he does derive a degree of joy from healing what ails them. Kallias occasionally demonstrates genuine sympathy when working on those who have suffered to a similar degree as he, such as victims of captivity, experimentation and torture.

Having been forced to feed on the innocent in the past, Kallias only feeds upon criminals and those in his cult who are willing to part with a pint of blood to serve their master. The latter he will never kill, but the former shall be drained dry for their crimes. In general, Kallias is an enigma to those around him, but most of all, to himself.
Player Name: EldridSmith
Name: Emathe Ena
Faction: Eldritch Knights
Job: Monk (Martial artist/scholar)
Source: Monk/Ki
Body: 5
Mind: 3
Magic: 2
Health: 12
Appearance: Here
Extras:
Height: 6'
Orientation: Straight
Oaths:
Poverty: He is not possess or use money beyond what he needs for his daily life, as such he only eats cheap yet healthy food, uses only what he needs, and only has a few sets of clothes. He is however allowed to spend money for the purposes of learning.
Abstinence: He does not partake in wine, substances, or intercourse (till marriage).

Backstory:
Seventh son of a noble house, Emathe had no claim to the title. However he was fine with that as he was free to play around and enjoy his childhood as he pleased. However when he ventured out of the confines of his home he found that his family was far more well off than many others, to the point of needless excess. Emanthe, having been requested to join the Eldritch Knights by a captain who was close with the family, agreed. During his training he found his talent with weapons was abysmal, but his skills in a fist fight were above most others. As such he was assigned to learn under a master monk. However the monk required he take two vows, which Emanthe didn't mind in the slightest. He returned to the knights after a few months and took up his position once more, now far more self disciplined and capable.
Player Name: Soverign
Character Name: Baloc
Faction: Mercantile
Job: Renown Blacksmith and part time Warrior. Baloc though has interest in people she is cautious and only takes jobs or associates with those that can prove to have some honor. With this she has been renown for a strong magical restraint but also ruthless fury once enraged.
Source: Having been born Baloc was forced by her power to never speak a word. The only sounds she can make are the brutal and harsh tones of her species. Her father having a strong power in telepathy and her mother a renown smith with her telekinetic powers had her and the only draw back was Baloc was muted for life and can only communicate with her telepathy using words. Otherwise she makes due with her Shuriken's and Knives. Due to the intimacy that her mind meld requires she has nearly never preformed such a connection. Instead her daggers and Shuriken's have statements and words engraved on them so she can ask questions. Also having a strong grasp on sign language though few have ever learned it to her knowledge. Many written languages also help her get by in a life that will often be harsh or lethal.
Body: 3
Mind: 4
Magic: 5
Health: 11
Character Appearance:
Image

Extras:
- 24 years of age
- 6' 4" in Height not including her wings.
- Mental voice is a soothing melodic voice that can easily turn to a volcanic snarl once angered, if one ever experiences her trust that is.
- Bisexual
- Carries Shuriken's and Knives all in her bag or strapped to her person.
- Her weapons are adorned with jewels that have magical effects. Some display fire or electrical magics once the blades hit a target. She only has a few of these most are normal blades.
- She has no need to see the object she is controlling as long as she has time to sense it or has used it extensively.
- She has a fancy for weapons of exquisite make and will often look around blacksmith's work for ages if left alone.
- Has innate understanding of a weapon's forging process and can see when swords or other craft were made with cheap materials.
Bio: Growing up in a respectable family Baloc was the oldest daughter of a noble mother and a diplomat father. Though given a noble beginning she like her mother wanted a more honest life. Her mother raised her by the smith's hammer and to value one's craft. Cursed to be silent but in her mind Baloc grew to understand her powers from a young age using her mother's tools without touching them. Helping her make works of lethal beauty.

Upon her twentieth birthday Baloc was trained the best she could have been. Though the world taught her harsh and nearly fatal lessons she grew stronger each time. Taking jobs as a blacksmith and part time fighter she tested her weapons on those she saw were either not law abiding or without honor. Coming into several conflicts with authorities she merely defended those she could when she was pushing to far on vigilantly justice.
Player Name: CaptainLiterally
Character Name: Naeva Richman
Faction: Mercantile
Job: Conman, smuggler, or any other shady jobs that are best utilized under the radar
Source: Of elven descent: due to the distance in her lineage from the nearest elf, the only skills she acquired from her magical ancestor are light feet and well-tuned senses which attribute to her excellent combat skills.
Body: 4
Mind: 3
Magic: 1
Health: 13
Character Appearance:

Appearance


Perhaps, if Naeva Richman was born with a silver spoon in her mouth and was groomed every day from childhood, she would have been considered pretty with her bright blue eyes and satisfactory bone structure. But growing up as she did leave no room for such pampering. Dirt encrusted her fingernails and uneven hair draped her thin shoulders for as long as she could remember. Naeva’s too-pale skin could be attributed to spending daytime in the shadowed underground of Ray City, as she did not have much time for lazing about in the sun. A willowy, thin figure allowed her to sneak through the tightest crowds and fit through the smallest spaces without the slightest noise.
Measurements: 5’5 tall and about 110 lbs.
Age: 20
Nicknames: Nave, Richman (she made up her own last name, having forgotten her own and instead choosing her dream occupation)
Personality: Naeva, despite her keen mind and fast feet, is not very quick when it comes to caring about other people’s feelings. She’s incredibly blunt and her knack for picking up too many opinions gives her many opportunities to show off this characteristic. She rarely keeps up a formal demeanor, either wisecracking or sitting in lazy silence in the presence of others. Naeva is intense, but she is not exactly determined: it is difficult to tell exactly where her allegiance lies, and her reliability can change from time to time. Trivial things such as emotions or kindness are only shown in the direst of situations.
Backstory: Naeva couldn’t remember a time that she wasn’t eluding the prestigious police of Ray City. The details of her childhood are forgettable and unimportant as they were all equally monotonous: stealing to eat and eating only to steal more the next day, or stealing things that she didn’t understand for people who would give her a pretty penny. For most of her life survival was all that mattered. Now that she was capable of much more hefty heists, money wasn’t so much of a problem. But her roots in the underground are far too deep for Naeva to be leaving the scene any time soon.
Equipped items: She works best with small knives that she carries in her belt. Naeva wears comfortable pants, boots, a blouse, and sometimes a heavy traveling cloak.
Abilities: Close combat (with small weapons or without), above-average speed and agility, extensive knowledge of the inner workings of Ray City, and a winning personality

Player Name: The Queer Alien
Character Name: Kieran Crestwood
Faction: Mercantile
Job: Someone's Apprentice
Source: Birth
Body: 2
Mind: 4
Magic: 1
Health: 14
Character Appearance: Image

Extras: (anything else you wish to share about your character to have a permanent record of in the character list. common things may be aliases, nicknames, physical measurements, sexual preferences, pronouns, specific skills, equipped items, abilities, backstory, etc....)
  • 19 Y.O
  • He/They. Pansexual.
  • Born from a human father and an Elven mother, meaning he CAN do magic, they just suck at it
  • Stands at 5'5 and weighs about 110 lb.
  • While he may not be very strong, accurate, or any good at a fight, they are capable of running pretty fast
  • Kieran is an avid reader, a very skilled artist, a fine craftsman as well as good with machines. His hands are capable of holding hot objects (with gloves of course)
  • Kieran always brings a book with him as well as his sketchbook and a pencil.
  • They grew up in Ray City, their dad was a merchant And their mom was a teacher. He always looked up to an older girl in his neighborhood whose father was an engineer and taught her how to fix things. Almost everything he learned about engineering he learned from her. Growing up Kieran was a curious and adventurous kid, always wanted to learn more about the things they were interested in and always getting lost to go on whatever adventure and eventually coming back to see his parents tired. Eventually, his parents stopped worrying so much about their child going on any adventures knowing he'll come back safely but they would still ask if they left to make sure they didn't leave alone. At age 18 he bought his own apartment and moved out of their parent's house, now working as an apprentice, Kieran wishes to someday scrape up enough money to travel the world.
  • Kieran is a very friendly and approachable person. Though he prefers staying within small groups of friends, he at first nice to everyone he meets, but if you give them a reason to be an asshole they will be an asshole. Along with his friendly persona, Kieran has a great sense of humor. Kieran is a very ambitious person who works hard towards anything he sets his mind to and has an almost unbreakable concentration. While he doesn't like confrontation Kieran would be willing to beat anyone who messes with their friends to a pulp (or at least try). Kieran is not part of Mercantile because of trauma, revenge or anything fancy like that but simply because he knows how unjust the knights can be and genuinely belives in what they stand for.
Player Name: Slifer
Character Name: Kyrian Zamir
Faction: Mercantile
Job: Cleric- Nurse/Doctor type healer who uses his skills and magic to heal on the battlefield and in the temple. Mostly does defensive and healing abilities, but can harm others in a pinch, as he knows that healing and harming are two sides of the same coin.
Source: Priest of a powerful Archfey who grants him his gifts and abilities.
Body: 3
Mind: 4
Magic: 3
Health: 13
Character Appearance:

Image

Extras: He's a young Merfolk, aged 25, bisexual. He usually has a pouch of healing supplies on him. His magic focus is a ring on his middle right hand from his Patron, the symbol binding him to his fey lord. More to come later when we RP.
-Has extensive knowledge of different illnessess/diseases/curses, both magical and non-magical
-Has extensive healing abilities, having trained in healing both on the field and in the temple, using all sorts of magic and non-magic items to bring people back from the brink.
-Can cast blessings and such to help enhance their abilities.
-Has learned self-defense, enough to hold his own in a fight if necessary
-Has that priestlyness to him which lets him into most temples, even if they're not of his own patron.
-Knows some Scripture. Mostly for birth rites, death rites, and marriage rites.
-Can get away with having a sharp knife on him as a part of his medical supplies. He knows how to use said knife.
-can do some magical damage in a pinch, knowing an offensive spell or two.
-Can swim well underwater
-Can breathe underwater
Player Name: Elvario
Character Name: Verity

Faction: Eldritch Knights (knighted).

Job: Internal Investigator
She uses her knowledge and magic to investigate any rumours of corruption on her fellow Eldritch Knights and those they were in contact with (the latter often leads her to chase down any related corrupted representatives and mercantile faction members as well).

Source: Scholarly Pursuits
Years of training and research (both practical and theoretical) have allowed her to gauge and subtly influence the emotional state of those around her, as well as subtly dulling their senses. The latter ability is the strongest when a single target is chosen, rather than multiple. Upon maintaining physical contact with someone, she is capable of reading their minds and memories and of sharing her own memories with them.

Body: 2
Mind: 4
Magic: 4
Health: 12

Character Appearance:

Image

Extras:
  • Race: Beast Kin
  • Aliases/nicknames: Lady Verity | Memory Invader
  • Color code: #DA70D6
  • Equipment: Set of hidden daggers, first aid kit, notebook and writing utensils, candied dried oranges, small flask of orange liqueur.
  • Likes: Oranges (in any shape or form), clear displays of virtue, classical music, colourful dresses, going on long walks through new places.
  • Dislikes: Apples, (blatant) corruption, sloppy handwriting, naïve thinking.
Backstory:
She's the daughter of a famous Eldritch Knight, who was known for her great strength and powerful magic. While Verity was mostly raised by her father, due to her mother always being busy with her work as a knight, it was her mother she truly looked up too. When her mother was killed under mysterious circumstances, she channelled all her grief and frustration into a promise; that she wouldn't rest until she found the one responsible. This eventually lead her to research magic that'd allow her to reveal the truth of what others were thinking, as it was the only thing that'd allow her to find out the truth. The following investigation lead her to her own father, as it was revealed that he'd set up his own wife in an attempt to hide the fact that he was having multiple affairs behind her back. The revelation triggered her to get rid of her father and surname alike.

Having no close relatives left and with her quest suddenly ending in another tragedy, she found herself lost and without purpose. Luckily enough, her efforts had been noticed by another Eldritch Knight, a former friend of her mother's, who offered her a place in their ranks due to her unique talents. From then on out, she worked hard to flush out any sign of corruption among the Eldritch Knights. Needlessly to say she was loved and hated in equal measures, depending on how much others had to hide from her mind-prying magic.

Player Name: Ur Degaton

Character Name: Solomon Aquila (Also goes by Scholar Knight Aquila)

Faction: Eldritch Knights

Job: Solomon is a fierce scholar of the mystical arts, having had an unhealthy obsession with magic and cosmic mysticism from a young age. While his official job is that of an Eldritch knight, he spends most of his time researching the arcane and unknown, and generally practicing his magic to become more powerful. His passion and lust for knowledge has led to him spending countless hours in the city library, to the point where quite many people consider him the city’s secondary librarian, much to the chagrin of the real librarian.

Source: Most of his magic is self taught via the many tomes and scrolls his adventurous family owns. Since childhood he has read and absorbed everything he could from his family’s study to become as powerful and knowledgeable in the mystic arts as possible.

Body: 1

Mind: 5

Magic: 5

Health: 10

Appearance: Image

Backstory: Solomon Maximus Aquila was a sickly and weak child born into the prestigious house of Aquila, a family of adventurers and knights. His father was an ex-adventurer and an Eldritch knight, same with his mother and uncles. Unfortunately, due to his fragile state, his family favored his brother and sister, Titus Aquila and Diana Aquila, who were born strong and healthy. Solomon was metaphorically ostracized from his family, who viewed him as an extremely weak link in a very strong chain. Miserable and seeking solace, young Solomon discovered his family manor’s study, which contained numerous books detailing magical theory and practices. Apparently, years back when his parents were adventurers, they had slain countless enemy sorcerers and took their tomes as loot. His parents, having no need for something as pathetic as magic, put the books in what would eventually be their study to collect dust and be forgotten. While his parents saw the books as nothing more than worthless trinkets to show off, Solomon saw the books as his ticket to greatness and ultimate power. Fueled by his desire for strength and hatred towards his family, he would spend all his time researching the powers of the arcane and expanding his knowledge of magic to make up for his weak and frail body. As was mandatory in his family, he and his siblings were required to go to the academy and become knights. While his siblings were more than enthusiastic about becoming “guardians of order” as his father put it, he himself cared less about the knights and their creed, only viewing the academy as an obstacle to be overcome. Though he was weak, frail, and verging on anorexia, Solomon used potions and charms to artificially yet temporarily increase his physical abilities to pass the trials of knighthood, and while his siblings knew of his deception, the teachers and knights of the academy were clueless. After becoming a knight he uses his newfound authority to gain access to even more avenues of magical knowledge, whether it be through governmental archives only accessible by knights or the public library, Solomon always finds a way to get what he wants, consequences be damned.

Other:

•He wears chainmail underneath his cloak

•He carries a multitude of potions with him at all times

•He possesses a superiority complex given birth by his insecurities about his weak nature.
Rper: SkyHunter
Character Name: Kaz Bloodhawk

Faction: Mercantile later on

Job: Native Hunter, later on becomes a mercenary.

Source: The son of two tribes, which is forbidden, who have been 'blessed' with the gift of the 'Real Beings' which is the basic elements. Both powers come from two different tribes, the Bloodhawks which can conjure and control fire and the Thynderwings which can control Lightning.

Body: 4, growing up in a tribe that looked down at him as a mistake, he was beaten and ridiculed most of his life and had to toughen up and learn to defend himself.

Mind: 2, due to the mental hardships and cult-like properties he went through growing up he is a bit crazy.

Magic: 4, most of his life he has been able to use both elements, of course he did make a lot of mistakes and hurt himself but learned from those mistakes and was able to control his powers, although he is trying to combine both powers and is having a very difficult time doing so and may never be able to actually combine these elements together.

Health: 12, His magic does wear on his body after using it too much, and is willing to go above and beyond even if he knows he may lose or die, the more magic he uses, the more his body will give out.

Character Appearance: Image
His left arm is burned from his hand to his shoulder due to a accident as a kid when he tried to use his inferno abilities and left his arm scarred.

Extras: Kaz is pretty sarcastic and laid back, he doesn't really take serious situations very serious, especially with how he handled being raised, its a defense mechanism.
Player Name: TheEccentric
Character Name: Gattas Windle
Faction: Mercantile
Job: Proud Owner of the Cringing Cockatrice, a Tavern-Inn that caters for the strange and stranger!
Source: Inked Warrior of an isolated goblin tribe. They channeled the might of slain foes through tattoos, and Gattas was a praised warrior that could conjure his marked weapons and attain supernatural athletic abilities.
Body: 4
Mind: 2
Magic: 2
Health: 14
Character Appearance:

https://cdn.discordapp.com/attachme...2/815376715676385300/cartoon1537270869880.jpg

Standing at a proud 3 feet and 6 inches, a very respectable height for his kin, Gattas Windle is the iconic blue-collar worker. Small but firm muscles hide beneath his collared shirt and overalls, and hidden beneath those muscles are his tattoos that manifest only if he wills it. His bushy eyebrows and beard are his pride and joy, while the lasting wisps are a source of great remorse and gloominess. He's well-beyond his youthful years, but he's deep into his prime. The bright red nose with the bright red warts is always a good conversation starter, because not everyone gets stung by giant cursed wasps and live to tell the tale.

Extras:
Alias: Uncle Windle / Three-Arms (On account of his present arm, missing arm, and the arm in his loins. Aha, penis joke.)

Background:
Once the most skilled warrior in his tribe, the years of his youth were spent training and slaying the foes and outsiders that dared crawl into the hidden patch of caverns he and his ancestors claimed as their own. The blood of fallen monsters and powerful adventurers served as the medium for their power; through archaic rituals, they turned blood into ink that gave them similar abilities to the creatures the blood came from. Although he never got to be an Ink Master, the next best thing was well within reach: an Ink Warrior, a combatant that is recognised for their great ability and even greater kills.

His lifestyle continued until a particular group of Adventurers entered their domain, and with them was the woman of his dreams. Her skin was a bright and lively green, in contrast to his deep and subdued tones, eyes that could enamore the most stoic of goblins, and a face that only a goblin could truly appreciate. He found love, and he was whisked away by his wanderlust and normal lust. From barbaric warrior to staunch adventurer, he lived a life of excitement and wonders. Time flashed by in a blink, and he's now a retired. His gains became the foundation of the Cringing Cockatrice, a tavern-inn named after the foul creature that took his left arm.

Now he's a family man, making good use of his time hefting barrels and beating up wily drunkards. Father of the century, his children and wife adore him as much as he does them. The stories and jokes he brings to the table make him an enjoyed face whenever he strolls around the mess room of the inn, sharing laughs and tears with the young and old adventurers he considers his second Family.

It's a good goblin life.

Family Members:
Wife - Nevas Windle
Firstborn - Gonnas Windle
Secondborn - Haftas Windle
Thirdborn - Miranda Windle ( She's adopted.)

Unique Equipment:
Storage Bracelet: Bonded to him by magic, he has a bracelet that contains an extradimensional pocket that allows him to store and produce items. It has 10 by 10 feet of space and can carry up to a ton. A gift from the arcanist of his old adventuring group, he now uses it to store his mementos, his finest booze, and the occasional trinket he finds. It also contains a few copies of his deeds and documents, just in case.

Gorilla Gloves: Made from the hand of a mighty demonic gorilla, these fingerless gloves were drenched in its progenitor's blood and enchanted by the Ink Masters of his tribe. One of the few Painted Relics of his people, it allows him to wield immense weapons with ease. He used to wield giant stone clubs and greatswords of bone in each hand, but alas, he lost his other arm. The other glove is now an ornamental piece over the fireplace of his tavern, alongside the rest of his hunting and adventuring prizes. Despite his condition though, he can still expertly wield large and heavy objects with his single hand. That, and it's always an interesting attraction, seeing a one-armed goblin juggle kegs.

Tattoos:
Call of Arms - He can absorb and manifest specific weapons that's he's marked over the course of a day. He can at most have two of such weapons; one of them is a mundane-looking axe typically used for chopping wood, while the other is a serpentine whip 10 feet long with a fine metallic tip.
Crawling Megapede - This tattoo allows him to scale walls and other vertical or tilted surfaces easily as if they're normal terrain. He can do the same on ceilings and such, but he gets a migraine so he doesn't like doing that.
Slithering Mass of the Boulder Slime - This tattoo allows him to fit into tight spaces without risk of causing harm to his internal organs. He can't fit through the gaps of a door, but he can certainly fit through a foot of space despite his dad bod. His skin also takes the texture of grayish stone, which can aid in blending with rough earthy environments.
Player Name: ShiroKiyoshi
Character Name: John Herald
Faction: Mercantile
Job: John’s primary work is metalworking and alchemy. He gets secondary income from teaching hand-to-hand combat. He has a career in exploration so he outsources his skills as a guard to roaming caravans. Then sometimes he gets fight money.
Source: John’s village specializes in working with metal. Through constant dedication of the craft his people eventually mixed in the use of pyromancy to increase their efficiency. Naturally, John is well versed in this pyromancy as well.
Body: 4
Mind: 2
Magic: 2
Health: 14
Character Appearance:

Image


Extras:
  • John is a savant in that he: Always knows where north is, what time it is, and the approximate measurements of something with just a look.
  • John carries an enchanted broadsword that pairs with a necklace he wears. The sword expends fire based magic to coat itself in plasma while the necklace collects this energy for the sword to use.
  • When exploring he carries a toolkit in his pack in addition to rations, rope, woolskin, and a telescope. With this kit he can fix cracks in metal and other similar materials as well as correct alchemical reactions, but any work beyond that and he needs a smithy and/or crafting table.
  • John periodically appears in underground fighting rings. He goes by Smiling Green, a title lovingly given to him for getting his ass kicked the first time, but still standing up and smiling.
  • Waving the name Smiling Green is more likely to get John a laugh and a pat on the back than it is going to get him what he wants. Shockingly though this brings customers in to be trained by him. He is viewed as tough.
  • John is not from Ray City. He comes from villages outside its borders that lie within the mountains. There are only humans in these villages so other races are new experiences for him.
  • His village specializes in harvesting the ore in the mountains that protect them and converting this ore into various metal crafts. They also emphasize the use of alchemy to improve their weapons making them a main trader of magical items. A person who learns both of these trades is known as a Guardian. John is a Guardian of this knowledge.
  • John’s swordsmanship and combat abilities are something he sought out himself. In exchange for taking care of a wandering swordsman’s repairs John learned to fight

Player Name: Wiggin
Character Name: Thorne Glowbrew
Faction: Mercantile
Job: hired mercenary, primary gigs include assassination of the corrupt, smuggling, bodyguarding, and overall the shadier and more morally grey side of things
Source: dimensional ripper, caused due to his unstable creation into an undead his continuous connection to death (powers would include teleportation of himself and objects through a pocket dimension or keeping those objects in that dimension)
Body: 3
Mind: 4
Magic: 3
Health: 13
Character Appearance:

Image


Thorne’s actual features are rarely seen as a way to hide his identity and race. He is seen usually wearing a fox mask of some sort, but the markings on the mask itself vary in color and style. On his back are two swords, each made of a metal that shines like oil does when it meets with water. Thorne wears a dark black cloak most of the time along with a suit underneath that looks skintight and covers him from the neck downwards. Underneath is a mixture of organs and bone, as most of his flesh was already rotted away during his resurrection. His head is a clean white skull with glowing blue eyes within the hollow eyeholes. He wears a pair of loosely tightened combat boots on his feet. Over his head he wears a skin-toned mask and a wig, both varying in color, to hide his identity even more.

Extras:
Aliases/titles: Shadow man, Dark fox, Null, Dale, and the hidden blade

Abilities: Transporting objects or himself in and out of a pocket dimension instantly between different locations that he has visited. Any metal items gain the same sheen as Thorne’s blades.
Equipment (this also includes those items housed in the pocket dimension): A safe with currency he has acquired from his work, A hand crossbow with several bolts, throwing daggers, Fake identification, several different colored wigs and skin masks, paralysis poison, different fox masks, three different colored cloaks and skin tight suits, A yo-yo

-Thorne can easily blend into a crowd with his different ways to hide his identity and his ability to disappear into a pocket dimension
-Thorne has connections in the underground part of the mercantile and can gather information due to his almost legendary status as a mercenary
-Thorne is 6’1’’ tall with a very slim build even with all of his faking of his identity
-Thorne belongs to the undead, and can be identified as a possessed skeleton
-pronouns are He/him and he is heterosexual
Backstory: Thorne was resurrected into the world by a curious necromancer. The necromancer was doing experiments on the undead he had summoned, wondering just how much he could mess with the process to create an extremely powerful undead that bended to his will. Thorne was one of the first among many, but didn’t quite have the physical ability or the direct magical power that someone who prioritizes in fire magic would have. Thorne was forced to become a servant to the necromancer, becoming a simple butler of sorts for him as he concocted his plans. Thorne served under the necromancer for several years before someone broke in and killed the man in the middle of the night. From there, Thorne’s servitude was null and void and he was free to do his bidding. This idea of freedom then led him to the Mercantile faction within Ray city. From there, he built up his reputation as a mercenary, mainly working to help those who desired control or those in need. He had no real reason for doing so, it just felt instinctual to him. Thorne grew a few connections in the mercantile, but he was mostly cold and distant due to the fact that he was undead and would rather not reveal that to those without knowledge.

Personality: Thorne is seen as a wisecracking individual at times, often making jokes to taunt certain people around him. This is mostly all that is seen to those who are not directly involved with hiring him or being protected by him. To those that are involved with the business end of his life, he can be cold, calculating, and almost robotic in the way he speaks. It’s clear that he had no real connection to the living, yet his actions tell another story. He gives to beggars on the street, saves those who are in danger, and will sometimes derail a plan all so that Throne cannot break an unspoken promise to himself about his morality. These oftentimes can lead to complications in his work, but he is willing to pay the price.
 
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Current Rp Stats

See latest Novama post in thread for rp stats.
 
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It was late at night in the museum of life. The polished marble floors and finely crafted stone walls echoed with the footsteps of the few visitors that remained after closing. The lights of the city streamed in through the glass domed ceilings and reflected off the finely polished decorations making the building feel like it was bathed in sunlight despite the time. Despite the brilliance, it was rather chilly in the spacious halls and chambers.

In a central chamber, looking at one of the original trees of the land forever preserved in magic, stood a lady demoness of the fae folk. She was dressed in an elegant gown and warm furs whose colors contrasted with her red skin. Standing a few yards off was her entourage of armed guards. She sipped from a crystal glass filled with champagne as she looked at the tree with a somber expression.

Aside from the woman's four armed, burly guards, there were cleaners and scholars also in the room. The cleaners swept the floors and some aided the scholars in the maintaining or moving of exhibits. This work was generally done in off hours after everyone had left. The demoness appeared to be an exception to the rule.

Approaching from the direction of the main entrance, a group of individuals outnumbering the four guards approached. They were not uniformly dressed, but they were all armed and it was quickly apparent they meant harm.

"Prepare to die, Hellspawn,"

One of the roughly dressed men called as the group rushed towards the tree and the demoness with weapons drawn.

2e5ed8aa384d5dead6082bade5dbdfc5.jpg
 
\/~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~\/
Thorne Glowbrew
/\~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~/\

It honestly hadn’t taken long for Thorne to infiltrate the museum to steal some precious artifacts after he had visited in the day. The area’s structure had already been implanted in his mind and therefore he could teleport to certain parts of it. The only real challenge he faced was the unexpected arrival of a fae demoness and her group of hired men. This woman looked to be wealthy, but didn’t give off the same snobbish feeling than other wealthy individuals Thorne had seen.

Thorne himself was stationed on one of the ledges of the hollow domes on the ceiling, watching from a distance. He had been tasked with stealing some sort of glass orb that was rumored to have magic. Thorne didn’t exactly care for the reason this object was wanted, and besides, it was a decently paid job. Even in Thorne’s scouting of the museum beforehand, he had not been able to discover its whereabouts and assumed it was in the storage area of the museum, which would be easier to access in the off hours when civilians weren’t running about.

Thorne would have to answer a lot of questions and risk his job if he got involved with this little affair, but he needed to help somehow. He couldn’t exactly stand back and watch someone get attacked for being called hellspawn. He had a certain code to uphold, being a part of the undead himself. Thorne then reached out his hand from his perch and reality began to warp around his palm until a hole seemed to form in the air for a split second. Several of the attackers would notice this rift around the weapons they held, and when the hole formed the objects would no longer be there. Instead, the items would be individually given to Thorne, who was not gently setting them down next to him on the perch. “That seems more fair…” Thorne mumbled to himself, after making those with weapons and those without weapons an even amount. He then sat there and watched, wanting to see what would happen after his meddling.
 
John was spending a day without work at the museum for fun. Though, it being his first visit and all, it was really underwhelming. The building was pretty, sure, but nothing really kept his attention. He found himself glancing at things here and there or stopping at the larger attractions like the tree. Again, John was faced with the same emotions. The tree was marvelous to look at, but it didn't do anything and thus lost his interest rather quickly.

"I guess this just isn't my speed." John muttered to himself. "Shame. That customer spoke very highly of this place too."

As John lifted his arms and rested his hands behind his head he heard the stomping of boots. Looking over his shoulder he spotted several mercenaries -- armed -- targeting a lone woman in the room. John then turned his head to this "hellspawn" and his jaw dropped. Her skin was red.

Now, that's more my speed.

However, John -- being a normal law abiding citizen -- did not bring his sword into a public place. The only thing that could be considered lethal on his person were his fists, but he wasn't going to draw his weapons unprovoked. Instead, John would try diplomacy. He dashed in front of the swordsman, using the leather of his shirt to protect him -- as John had yet to be registered as a threat at this point -- and pressed his arm against the flat edge of the blade to move it aside before quickly, with both hands, grabbing the base of hilt and the tip of the blade. Then with all his might John attempted to tear the blade away.

"Hey, woah, woah. What's got you so angry?" John laughed.

John tried to exercise as much caution as possible, but an angry man with a blade was rather unpredictable.
 
Kyrian stood out of the way of the cleaners and the scholars, his presence somewhat unnoticed- just the way he liked it. He had the night to himself, the occasional gift he gave to himself to stave off exhaustion that would come with days upon days of working at the temple. Tonight's trip had taken him to the museum- the brilliance of the museum always picked up his spirits. The preserved tree was one of his favorite sights, and it always grounded him, giving him a sense of peace that could only come from the sight of nature, even though it was just a single tree surrounded by magic and stone.

He was known as an indiscriminate healer- human or undead or beastkin alike could come to him and ask for help, and he would heal them- they would pay him what they could afford and he would do all he could under his power to help them. His gifts opened many doors that otherwise would have been shut to him, a perk that pleased him to no end- even if he wasn't a human, but a Merfolk.


Kyr's silent contemplation was broken with the appearance of armed men- and it wasn't hard to guess what they were after when they zeroed in on a demoness. He tended to stay neutral in a fight, unless there was a clear side for him to be on, so he waited for an opportunity to help out somehow.

Then there it was- a man in the leather shirt had gone the diplomatic route- running up to place himself in between the warring parties. Well, he wasn't all that useful in a fight, but he could do what he did best- keep others from getting hurt.
His hands moved in silent formation, a protection charm aimed at the man, designed to make him a little tougher to hit, to make his skin just a bit harder so he could withstand an attack that had a decent chance of coming. Even so, the man might have been acting a bit rashly, but it was to prevent a fight, and Kyr could get behind that.
 
" Hmm, gotta find a job before the day ends. " Kaz was muttering to himself holding a tattered and wet parchment with indescribable wording on it, he stared at it for a moment then his eyes looked up at what was a giant building, " Mew-zee-um. " The native spoke staring at a plaque near the entrance. Kaz shrugged as the wind blew a little, it was getting chilly, might as well enter and see if he could find some type of work. Bloodhawk moved towards the doors and pushed them open like a grand entrance and entered, staring up ahead he saw a small group of different people facing off. Ah, that didn't bother him so much, he was so used to seeing people bicker, that he just kinda ignored it and went up to the first person he saw, being one of the guards of the demoness.

Kaz tapped his shoulder holding the parchment in both hands, when he turned, Kaz stood up straight and had a smile on his face like he was about to present something. " Hey, uh. " Kaz looked at the parchment closely before speaking. " I am looking for work. " He spoke slowly like even he didn't understand what was written. " Hire me and i can show you what i am able to do. " His eyes looked up to the guard, still unaware of the situation and even proceeded to hand the guard the wet and tattered parchment, even though it looked days old, the wording was nearly faded and scribbled and finally, would probably fall into pieces if handled too roughly.

Kaz' eyes peered pass the guard and his eyes lit up, even glowing from his excitement " Oh! Is there about to be a fight! I love fights! " The inexperienced Native cried out for all to hear with a fist raised in the air and a smile on his face. " Hey! I want in on this too! "
 
Always a fine day it was, wherever Gattas Windle walked. Exiting from one of the doors reserved explicitly for personnel of the museum, the good-natured face of Gattas basked in the soothing light, his simple eyes admiring the sheer beauty of the scene in front of him. This is his city, and he's sure as hell that he's going to get the most out of its facilities and people! Aside from his duties as a father and peacekeeper of his tavern, hours are spent getting introduced to notable figures amongst the populace in an attempt to cement his significance in the eyes of those above. Former barbarian he may be, but the decades of travel and adventure have long wrung him dry of his youthful foolishness and the illusion that the world would always follow his wills and desires. Nay, an old crusty goblin like him has spent enough times drowned in the blood of both allies and foes alike to know that a single person can't change the world, but a single person with many friends certainly can. Granted, changing the world is too large of a goal, thus he's satisfied with setting himself and his family up to be a permanent and useful part of the city's society and culture, in both the eyes of the people and the government.

Extensive intentions aside, his mind swiftly wanders to that enjoyable chat he just had with a few of the museum curator's personal aids, and satisfaction for a job well done blooms in his chest. Though, said flowering sentiments are immediately quenched after seeing the display in front of him. Drawn weapons, insulting slurs, and eccentric displays of personality and skill? He's had a few rodeos before, and some of them following that exact same format in chronological order, but that doesn't mean he'll celebrate the fact that they're consistent. His brows quickly furrow as he takes a few steps forward, though not in the direction of the conflict. Being a hero was never his specialty, especially now that he has a family and business to weigh before he takes any significant actions like getting embroiled in a conflict like this. He swiftly approaches one of the nearby staff and grunts in a tone only the person-in-question could hear.


"Ey sonny, ah know it be a entertanin' sight watchin' blood be spilt an' all that, but could ya not stand like there be a dragon's barbed cock up yer arse an' stead' be runnin' ta fetch them law abidin' sword-danglers outside?"

Saying all that in a gruff but calm voice, his hand slowly moves to his side as an imperceptible change happens on his palm. The image of an axe manifests silently, the detail on it reaching nigh perfect levels as if a miniature axe was actually branded on his skin. Just a little preparation on his side of things in case things happen faster than the fellow he asked could walk. He'll conjure his axe if things get bloody, but he won't be getting into the thick of things, at least not yet.
 
Verity

Interactions/mentions: John @ShiroKiyoshi | Kaz @Skyhunter

One of her most recent investigations lead Verity to believe that something was about to go down at the museum. However, she hadn't been able to pin down any details, so she'd been hesitant to call in the other knights. After all, she'd lose face if she sent them after something that wouldn't amount to more than a mere little brawl. On the other hand, she hadn't been given much time to investigate further, so there was a chance this was going to be something major. This made her decide to go and check it out herself.

It didn't take her long to find what she was looking for, after arriving in the museum. There was a fae demoness, who she didn't recognize at first sight (but maybe at a second glance?), accompanied by four-armed guards. They were opposed by a group of roughly dressed men that simply radiated all manners of bad intentions. To add to the mix, some rather colourful folk were observing the situating, which suggested this could end up messy. One of them (John) seemed to have the right idea, as he was trying to calm down the leader of the group. She figured she'd give him a hand, by attempting to use her magic to subtly dull that leader's senses just enough to make him a little more docile.

Whether successful or not, she'd continue what she started with words. “Regardless of the occasion, fighting in a museum is simply distasteful.” She took another glance at the demoness and her guards. “That, and you'd probably just be throwing your lives away. This isn't the type of person you want to take on.” She then turned towards one of the other bystanders (Kaz), who's behaviour was a bit concerning, combined by what she could gather from his attitude towards the events that were unfolding. She decided to extend the friendly warning. “That also goes for you, for that matter.”
 
Solomon was walking down the roads of the city. Bobbing and weaving his way through crowds big and small while simultaneously reading a book on “The Importance of Botanical Magic — By Cornelius Rum.”

He was supposed to be wandering around and keeping an eye out for any dangers or disturbances as was his duty, but nobody said he couldn’t do something more productive like research at the same time. The city was pretty well protected by do-gooders and the like, so he wasn’t all that concerned with conflict , save for the occasional argument between stall vendors and their customers that needed deescalating. His shift was almost over so soon he could return to the solitude of his home and carry out the experiments he’d been meaning to do.

As the knight was passing the museum, he noticed the sounds of a commotion coming from within. Now usually he wouldn’t care, but from the noises alone he could tell it wasn’t a pretty situation. With a sigh, the sorcerer closed his book with an audible clap before walking into the building. Upon opening the doors he was greeted with a confusing sight. There were quite a lot of individuals present, but what really caught his eye was the Fae at the center of it all. The only person he recognized was the investigative Knight Verity, who was trying to defuse the situation with diplomacy. Solomon couldn’t help but role his eyes at her attempted reasoning with criminals.

“While I applaud your attempt Knight Verity, I don’t think these savages know the very meaning of distasteful” He mused while walking next to her. “How about this, if you don’t put down your weapons, you will die, plain and simple, I will not tolerate unsheathed swords in this city regardless of profession or purpose.” He explained as his hands became engulfed in blue flames.
 
Thorne's idea to steal the weapons to reduce the chance of conflict was admirable, but to forcefully confiscate half a dozen weapons at once from moving targets tightly gripping their weapons was a bit too much in the moment. He only managed to steal 3 weapons: club, hand axe, shortsword. The weapons were in poor repair and not of particularly good materials. Although his efforts were not quite successful, since most of the attackers had more than one weapon on them, the 3 men who suddenly found themselves without weapons in hand did pause a moment to gawk and draw another weapon if they had one.

Meanwhile, John's man was still armed when the two met. John easily swatted the blade to the side and disarmed the other man but not without hurting his hands on the dull blade (1 damage). Despite being unarmed, the man didn't seem to want to give up and drew a large knife. He then attempted to stab John in the abdomen, but the blade *plinks* off a golden light that suddenly ripples around John before fading to nothing. The repulsion of the blade was so strong, the knife flew from the attacking man's hand. Blood trickles from his hand freely as the man gripped it with a yelp of pain. He glared at everyone angrily, clearly unsure who to address with his fury, but his forward progress stopped, unlike most of the rest of his allies.

While defenders of the demonness clashed with the unruly men who stormed the museum, Kaz's defender struggled to hold a man off as he took Kaz's paper. He didn't even look at it before he was forced to defend himself from a warhammer, the paper going flying and slightly ripped as it went.

"Sure, whatever, kid! Help me!"

The guard cried has he forced the guy back. Gattas wasn't nearly so persuasive or well timed. The poor museum sweeper ran for his life deeper into the museum screaming about the ugly, goblin demon wanting to club him. Gattas may have to deal with the authorities later. Most other staff that were unware or barely aware of the situation also started to flee.

Soon the room was a cacophony of cries and clashes of metal. The defenders were not yet overrun thanks to the diversions of the newcomers. The leader seemed to be somewhat pacified, as if by magic, despite the situation as well as he stood before John. Soon the defenders would be outnumbered and driven back if things continued. However, Solomon's sudden showing of magical prowess in his hands coupled with his threats was enough to reach a handful of those on the fringes of the brawl. Men on both sides were more hesitant to continue at the prospect of getting fireballed from their blindspots.

Despite the chaos and its flow and ebb, Verity kept tabs on the Demonness. She somewhat recognized the woman as a lesser noble, the wife of a baron VonRichten. Her husband should be out defending his barony on the fridges of the city-state's influence. It was not clear why the demon was here in the capital. The woman was currently backing away from the violence towards the great tree, seemingly unamused by the whole ordeal and having no interest in participating.

Although the ringleader seemed to have given up the fight for the moment, most of the 10 men with him seemed ready to continue the fight. Only 1 was left completely unarmed and 3 more becoming hesitant due to Solomon's threat.
 
Verity

Interactions/mentions: Solomon @Ur Degaton

Verity could feel a headache arise when she spotted her bookworm colleague, who wasn't exactly her favourite person to work with. Threatening someone with violence inside a museum was about as distasteful as committing the act itself, but the situation pointed him out to be the more successful one at the moment. After all, she was only holding back half a target (seeing how John was also involved), while Solomon was getting the attention of three others. She did have a slight worry with regards to Solomon's involvement, which she ended up voicing. “Just be a dear and try not to burn down this place or blow up anything of value.” All in all, stopping 3,5 men out of 10 was still a better score than the combined score of Verity's and Solomon's average fitness tests with the Knights. That reminded her. Where were all their buff and muscular colleagues at? They could surely use some of them right now.

That said, they had no such back-up, so she'd try drawing her only weapons once more, which were here magic and words. She tried to keep the leader magically pacified whilst aiming her words at his companions. “Do you really think anything good will come of attacking a noblewoman? Her husband is helping us keep our country safe as we speak, so in the best case scenario, you'll succeed and end up being tried for treason with nobody willing to listen to whatever your justifications for these actions are. Whatever justice you're trying to seek here, this isn't the way to find it, as you'll only create more injustice. It's not yet too late to stop these foolish actions.”
 
Gritting his teeth together, Gattas just gave a momentary glare at the retreating cleaner as the scene beneath the boughs of the resplendent tree somehow found itself in a sudden stalemate despite the threatening entrance the ten assailants made. The quick arrival of the Eldritch Knights once more reminds Gattas that the city is crawling with powerhouses that could rival or even surpass his own abilities. A single glance spoke more volume than the words uttered though as he swiftly noticed the fact that the two knights seemed to lean towards the frailer side of their titles. Though the lick of azure flames could serve as a deterrent, it wouldn't last long in the face of surging masses at that distance, at least that's what his instincts are screaming at him. Spellslingers, in his opinion, can't function properly without a powerful vanguard to address their more physical concerns, and he just so happened to be an adept in that regard. The tenseness in the atmosphere gave him even more reason to take a stand, especially now that the presence of both factions are now very much verified within the room.

Striding forward with a warm smile on his face, the yellowed eyes of the old goblin swim through the members of both crowds while his hand raised itself in a calming motion. "
Now hold yer' ponies, gents. Ah suggest ya follow 'em words o' wisdom right there, mainly cuz yer numbers ain't really a big advantage foh ya. Ya standin' in the presence of two Eldritch Knights, not only that, two astoudin' knights widely recognized foh their strength an' talents." At this point of his entrance, Gattas gives a slow and respectful bow towards the knights and the fellow who stood for the demoness, that same smile still on his face.

"
The Lady Verity an' the infamous bookwork, Mistah Aquila. Ah swear on me knickers that ah'll have a toast shared in yer name in me tavern foh this display o' heroism. Speakin' of me tavern, lots o' mouths and ears be yappin' and jigglin' there everyday, woulds be a shame if word spread o' ten knuckleheads tryin' their darndest ta ruin the day of us simplefolks and highfolks alike. Lotsa magics here in the city, some even able ta share memories an' divine identities." Finishing his excessive utterance, a sense of exhaustion immediately fills the old goblin as all that thinking basically drained him of his mental juices. He is far from being the smartest there is, and it's only recently he learned how to sweet-talk thanks to his sugary stepdaughter. That's probably all he had for today when it comes to using his brain, because his next display just used his other muscles instead.

"
Or if ya still wanna go toe ta toe..." With a snap of his fingers, his trusty hand-axe quickly manifests in his palm as its sharpened edge gleams from the luminescence of the room. The crawling images of centipedes flash into existence along his neck and cheeks like living scars, their hundred legs shifting and crawling as if they were actually alive. A simple change in his posture changed his aura entirely as his tight clothes become even tighter, his thick sculpted bicep making itself known along his arm. "Ah can take yer' swings foh 'em, been a while since last ah painted meself with lifeblood."

Gone is the civil demeanor of a homely father, and replacing it is the natural savagery of a goblin long spent in bloodshed and feud.
Of course, Gattas is giving himself a mental high-five and a pat on the back, because he fully believes he looks cool and intimidating right now. His son was right, there are moments where the universe gives you the chance to be epic, and there's no doubt one of those moments is happening right now!
 
As Kaz' eyes looked away for a moment from the guard when he heard he had been talked to, he saw a very beauitful beast-kin woman, his eyes widen for a moment, the world had slowed a bit for him as he gazed upon Verity, totally ignoring what she had just told him as all he saw was her beauty. The world darkened a little as both his eyes glowed momentarily.

But just as he was daydreaming, he was immediately knocked out of it, the guard who had just 'hired' him brought him back to reality, being asked for help as Kaz dunked to avoid a Warhammer across the skull and the guard blocking the attack. The unaware outsider stood up straight with a wide and unsettling smile on his face, his left eye, being blue. Glowed a bright sky blue, he took the guards shoulder and pulled him away from another attack " Let me 'andle this then. " the Native had a lot of confidence in his voice, quickly raising his right hand up towards the attacker, his fingers released wisps of blue strings that ignited through the air, shocking their target in a short stun. Kaz used this time to slide forward, both his hands being engulfed in the bright blue torrent of electricity. Quickly Kaz, with a smile on his face and a knack for violence, began to swing on the stunned attacker, each hit would deliver a shock of electricty through their body, each hit would sound like what a electric powered fly swatter would sound like. Kaz made sure to hit in precise places. One in the gut to weaken the legs, another in the kidneys to really bring in the pain. The next flurry of punches he aimed for the head, after about the fifth punch, Kaz took their forearm where they held their weapon and gave a more violent shock to force them to let go of their weapon.

Once the Warhammer had fallen to the floor, Kaz stopped using his electrical abilities, his eye returning to normal, he brought his arm arm back behind his body in a fist, delivering a charged straight punch into the head on the attacker, knocking them back onto the floor, Kaz took a step back as his arms and clothes were smoldering, "
Who's next? " The insatiable outsider asked to all with the same unsettling smile on his face, although it did seem he was generally trying to help now. He stood in a offensive fighting stance with one arm pointed out in a fist and his other arm raised above his head, also in a fist, his legs widen in a stance, ready for anyone else to attack. " Wait, where's my parchment? " he completely abandoned his stance as his head turned around looking for the paper he once held earlier.
 
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Things had gotten quite dire, to say the least, as the fighting raged on, and it was time for him to act.
A plan formed in his mind, as he took stock of the newcomers who had just shown up. Most of the people here could handle themselves in a fight. The goblin man and the man shooting electricity seemed to be doing just fine on their own. The man who acting quite diplomatic had a soft golden aura around him, a sign of his magic's success. He could keep it up for a little while longer, and maybe he help out one more person, just enough to help them avoid getting hurt- which he would be bandaging up anyway.

IT only took a moment, to step out from his corner, not enough to get into the thick of battle, but enough to show himself to others. "Verity." All he needed was to say her name to get his point across, that he was here to help, in his own special way. She wasn't stupid, and she would probably know who he was, and that he was here to help. The moment she would see and register his presence, he would let his magic flow, using the same magic spell he had cast on the diplomatic fellow to protect Verity, to give her the extra edge needed to not get hurt, or to deflect a blow. Then, he maneuvered his way to the diplomat fellow, staying just long enough to give him a wave, a little sign that the golden aura around him was friendly and not harmful.

When that was done, he quietly took off, jogging around the periphery of the fight and avoiding conflict as best as he could, hoping to reach the demoness, and at least get her out of the thick of the battle, aiming to make known his presence to the noble-looking woman. At this point, his goal was to find her a way to slip out quietly from the battle, so she wasn't trapped against the tree- using his brain instead of his brawn.