Warden

tired and broke
Original poster
LURKER MEMBER
FOLKLORE MEMBER
Invitation Status
Posting Speed
  1. 1-3 posts per week
Writing Levels
  1. Adaptable
Preferred Character Gender
  1. No Preferences
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PROTAGONISTS
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ANTAGONISTS
The Venomeroth

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NOTABLE NPCS
Aesyth

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Credit: Frappe7

Her pale appearance amidst the earthy hues in her home continent of Gualtierrez made Estefania stick out no matter where she went, or what she wore. Her wardrobe mostly consists of conservative (but fashionable) high-necked dresses, with skirts cut just barely above the knee to allow easy motion, then a scant handful of shirts and pants. 5’1” at her tallest.

"House Villanueva triumphs yet again."

Name:
(Condesa) Estefania Iñíguez [de Villanueva]

Age: 18

Race: Human

Nationality: Gualtierran

Class: Fencer

Weapon: Short Rapier, with the Carnation of Gualtierrez molded on its guard.

Personality & Background: Competitive, unrelenting, and with a lofty standard for those around her to fulfill, Estefania is nearly every stereotype about a noble rolled into one person. A proud Gualtierran through and through, sometimes to the point of insolence. Years of etiquette training molded Estefania to have a pleasing charm, though what softness she exudes will be snapped away in a second should somebody cross her. Though her temper is nearly as short as a match stick and lasts just as long, it is a rare occasion when the future Condesa goes beyond sneers and scoffs to show her real anger. She has a difficulty expressing deeper, more vulnerable emotions beyond this and may come off as playing coy, to her own dismay. She holds a high opinion of herself when it comes to intellectual matters, though she will not push her own opinion unto others without listening to their sentiments. Estefania is an avid reader and seeker of knowledge, though theories without any practical use with catch her attention at best.

Estefania grew up in House Villanueva in the city of Asturias, the financial capital of Gualtierrez. Amidst rumors of her illegitimacy because of her foreign coloring, she was treated as a true member of the family and named heir by her grandparents. Estefania thrived in the generous, albeit sheltered, environment and established a routine of reading the books in her grandmother’s study after combat training. The yearly competitions were barely worth fussing over, as she consistently won those anyway. Such a lifestyle might seem monotonous, yes, but to her it was everything she ever wanted in life and she couldn’t imagine anything else.

However, the growing economic unrest in Asturias unsettled her grandfather. Estefania, unconcerned with such trivial things and a tiny bit interested to see more of the world, agreed to his request for her to take a trip elsewhere and left with much ado.

Abilities: Estefania is the scion of an old and distinguished noble family which prides itself on being among the last keepers of a dying branch of combat. Reared on a strict regimen of training and competitions, her footwork is noteworthy and her knowledge of theory is peerless. The fencing style itself complements her petite frame, allowing Estefania to slip in and out of her opponent’s reach and yet maintain a strong defense while standing at ease. However, all of these actions were done in a controlled environment. It only remains to be seen how she’ll do in a no-holds-barred fight, wherein her favored tactics could be easily countered.

Extras:
Likes spicy food, and spice in general
Coffee gremlin. Dislikes tea
Prone to gloating in Gualtierran instead of the Common language
Hoards pretty stationary

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5'2 | 115lbs

"WHAAAT? You've never heard of me? I betcha you're one of the few who hasn't, mister! I'm The Innovative Inventor of Ivalon, a visonary, an alchemist - a magical mastermind all wrapped up into one!"​

Name: Anais Kendrix
Age: 18
Race: Human
Class: Pyromancer​

Personality & Background:

A Pyromancer from Luzvimin, Anais hails from the small town of Ivalon - a place that would have been rather peaceful if not for her shenanigans. The girl's presence has made for some interesting events over the past eighteen years.​

Anais made a frog explode at the age of eight, burned down a bakery at the age of 14, and nearly set fire to a forest the night before her 16th birthday - all of these combined have earned Anais several magnificent titles:​
  • Detonator of Doom
  • Absolutely Hopeless
  • The Village Fuck-up
Had she been anyone else, she would have given up on magic completely as she contemplated on life and the meaning of her fleeting existence, but she had big shoes to fill so she rolled with the punches that life threw her way and smiled whenever anyone told her she'd be better off quitting. She had to do her parents proud.​

The only child of the Heroes of Ivalon, Anais has no memories of her parents but she's heard people talk fondly about them and has read the research papers they'd left with her uncle before they disappeared. The girl has placed them on some sort of pedestal, and while her feelings of respect and pride run deep, there's just a hint of resentment beneath her starry-eyed compliments and toothy grins.​

Anais has made finding her parents one of her goals, and while she's aware that they're most-likely dead (no one has seen them in 17 years), it hasn't stopped her from searching for some form of closure.​

Abilities:
  • Pyromancy - The best of her mediocre skills
  • Alchemy - she's really mediocre at it and you'd be better off avoiding any "potion" she tries to give you
Extra:
  • Finds anything and everything relating to magic and monsters interesting
  • Wears two bracelets that she uses as a focus for her magic
  • Likes to take things apart to figure out how they work
  • Was home schooled by her uncle. Similar to her parents, he's a researcher for a nearby mage's guild and is studying the magical properties and uses of the local flora and fauna in Luzvimin
  • Her parents are known as the Heroes of Ivalon because seventeen years ago they helped lead a small team of mages and successfully protected Ivalon from a bandit raid. They disappeared shortly after on a research expedition gone wrong.
 
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6'2 | 225 lbs
“Names aren’t given. They’re earned.”
Jagred Stone-of-Heart
Age: 20
Race: Huma
Nationality: Lida
Class: Shieldbearer​

Personality & Background
One of many nomadic tribes that continued to persist independently even after Alexander Sucre unified the majority of Lidarans, the Lizard Tongues of central Lida roamed over cracked earth, chasing after beastly herds, fighting off giant scorpions, wearing the skin of reptiles. When their paths aligned with merchant caravans, they served as protectors in exchange for refined steel. When their paths aligned with mercenaries, they served as fellow warriors desiring glory and blood. When their paths aligned with the Others, they served as traders, swapping information and knowledge, crafts and tools. Never stuck in one place, in one role, the Lizard Tongues carried on a spirit of exploration and adaptability that persisted even as other clans became ‘civilized’, turning themselves into just one cog of the great industrial machine that chewed away at the wildlands of Lida.

It was in such a time that Jagred was born, as the lands that his ancestors discovered and rediscovered were tamed, domesticated, terrible and wonderful landscapes overwritten by steam-spewing metropolises. Unnaturally tenacious and wild even amongst other children his age, he was doubtlessly a troublemaker, always trying to go hunts himself, getting into fights over nothing, and running amok whenever he managed to escape his mother’s grasp. Far from reining him in, tales of monstrous Others that would gobble up bad children only made Jagred want to fight those baby-eating monsters. With his favorite stone axe and a thick stick, as well as a healthy appetite and earnest attitude towards everything new, he became the first amongst his age to partake in tasks reserved for adults.

An unnerving tenacity that did not balk at death. A towering body forged by hardship and friendship. A dozen marvelous exploits that earned him his first Spirit Name. He was Stone-of-Heart, for a heart without strength was useless, and strength without heart was meaningless.

Young, open-minded, and heroic, it was a surprise to all that he could fall so far from grace, so quickly.

At 18 years old, Jagred was exiled from his home, setting off to challenge the world that was changing too quickly, too violently.

Abilities:
Jagred’s tough and strong for a man his age, built like a horse, with tolerance for pain and a love for combat. Though not an absolute madman, he doesn’t think about the future when in the throes of a deathmatch, perfectly willing to offer blood for a victory feast that he may not even partake in. He has no particular combat style, and doesn’t even use a proper weapon. Instead, true to the deeds that earned him his name, Jagred carries two shields with him, a tower shield of strong oak and a steel buckler. One for body slamming into people, and another for punching people out with.

Ever since he was exiled, he no longer wielded a ‘real’ weapon.

Extra: An affection for drowning out natural flavors with spices. A preference towards hard beds. A lover of tall tales. A born adventurer.
 
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She stands at 5"7

"I do not know if I feel pity for humans, destroying something so wonderful to look at, or hatred, for the same reason."

Name: Vesara Destinia Asheran

Age: 109

Race: Wood Nymph

Class: Close Combat Fighter

Weapon: A spear, woven completely of vines and wood, allowing her to form it and then dismantle it at her will.

Personality & Background: Strong of will and able to take care of herself, Vesara is what most would imagine a tribe woman to be. She is incredibly loyal to her tribe, to the point where it can lead her into bad decisions. She is skilled at hunting and combat, having an incredibly long patience and a good mind for learning. However, her years of solidarity with naught but her tribe have left her both incredibly lacking in regards to social etiquette and skills, along with having an insatiable desire for new friends. She does not understand many social cues such as sarcasm or flirtation, as her tribe are straight-forward in their intentions.

Since birth, Vesara was trained by her 'mother' to be the next leader of the tribe, carrying on the tradition that the Asherans were led by nymphs, learning the ways of combat and diplomacy within the alliance. Her tribe was one of the more isolated of all tribes, being very deep into the dense forests and jungles, but it still participated within the alliance. There was little time between the training and responsibilities for fun, leading to a very boring childhood that left her dreaming for more. But, her tribe was her home, and she would do anything for them.

After many years of training and preparation, she had completed the learning required of her to become the new chieftess. But, her mother still ruled, many years out from giving up the title, and instructed her to go and see the world. Due to their tribe's isolation, there was little knowledge of what lay beyond their forests, something that her mother wished to change.

Abilities: Magic is her preferred form of combat, having a strong control over plant life. She is able to manipulate local flora to take shapes that she desires, using them as projectiles, obstacles and attack aids during combat, allowing her to get close to and immobilise the enemy, meaning she can follow up with her spear, that itself utilises her abilities of plant manipulation, woven with vines and seeds to utilise in combat.

Vindaloo bbys​
 
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Appearance: Victoria wears a confident and smug grin on her visage most of the time, betraying her lack of experience and technique. She wields her blade naturally, almost as if it were a part of her body. Rarely is she ever seen wearing anything else other than her armor, but in the rare instances that she is seen outside of it, she prefers to wear light clothing that is easy to move in and breathes easily, usually in a shade of purple. She stands at 5'3" and weighs 153 lbs.

"Just you wait...Someday that's going to be ME in the big leagues..."

Name: Victoria Claire-Lacan

Age: 17

Race: Human

Nationality: Gualtierran

Class: Knight-In-Training

Weapon: A longsword that she likes to dub "Virtue"

Personality & Background: Energetic, headstrong, and optimistic to a fault, Victoria is an idealistic individual who earnestly hopes that she too, will be like the knights she aspires and trains to be. Victoria likes to run her mouth and boast about the little things she has accomplished, unaware that many of the events she likes to brag about are quite unimpressive and could probably be done with the utmost ease. Perhaps it can be seen as a pseudo defense mechanism that she resorts to when she knows that her chances of being a an actual REAL knight are close to none. One of her most defining traits is her optimism, luck be damned and all, there are very few things that make Victoria to even think about the things that would bring her down. This becomes problematic when, even when against all-odds or a surely unwinnable situation, she is willing to risk her life just to get a favorable end result.

Raised in Asturias for all she can remember, Victoria is the second child of Señor Alvarez Claire and Señorita Floresita Lacan. Her older brother, Stefan is a highly-respected knight and the one who inspired her to follow in his footsteps of the way of the sword. She has a younger sister, Eleanor who took up more scholarly pursuits and always has her nose buried in a book. Victoria's parents urged her to do the same and did not fully support the path she had chosen herself, their attempts at persuading her fell to deaf ears. While eager to learn how to swing a sword and don their armor, Victoria proved to be an incompetent student, her finesse lacking and her technique could only be described as "flailing wildly like a madwoman"
Her parents once again offered her a chance to focus more on academic endeavors, reluctant to give up a sword in exchange for a dusty, old tome, the young girl looked at her parents and she fondly remembers why she's so stubborn; because her parents are too. As a way of showing affection, she hesitantly began to bury her nose in different pages as time went on.

Although the occasional wanderlust and desire to have her hands grip the handle of a blade would strike, Victoria knew that her parents only had the best interests for her, and she didn't want to disappoint them more than she already could. So it was the least that she could do. Although the once-quaint days of spending hours in the local library would come to a halt when Señor Alvarez was delivered a letter informing the father that his eldest son had gone missing in action following a fight that resulted in him falling off of a ravine, the two aristocrats could only fear for the worse and held on to bleak hope that there was still a possibility of him being alive. Victoria, overhearing the bad news, resolved that she had finally found a way to make her parents proud of her. With the help of her younger sister, she slipped into the night while donning her old training armor and sword.

Willing to throw away her sanctuary of safety and risking the ire of her parents in a daring move, Victoria earnestly hopes that Stefan is somewhere, out there. And she's willing to show everyone that she means business...most of the time.


Abilities: Owing to her lack of any professional experience, many of Victoria's dueling techniques are self-taught and modified versions of the moves she was taught, adding her own extra spin to them so that it makes things easier for her. She peppers her floral motif over these skills and gives them flamboyantly grandiose nicknames for even the simplest of abilities. Since she has no prior training with a shield, Victoria relies on her somewhat above-average agility to dodge incoming attacks and hopefully counterattack them, as her defenses are very fragile and a barrage of blows could easily send her to her downfall.

Extra: Things she likes include; chivalry and honor, cats, spending time in her family's garden and studying flowers, and tea.
Things she dislikes include; ignoble actions, gaudy dresses, insects (especially if they're gigantic), and books that go on for too long.

 
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She has pale skin, with short white hair and icy blue eyes. Her wardrobe consists mostly of short skirts or cheap pants, along with corsets or blouses, and a signature jacket. Her most worn outfit is the short skirts with corset, along with her knee high boots (See picture). She stands at 5’4.

“My guns are fast, but still aren’t the fastest I’ve seen a barrel blow its load.”

Name:
Liberty Rebecca Florence


Age: 20


Race: Lidaran Human


Class: Gunslinger


Weapon: She uses 3 pistols, always 2 in hand and the third one for when one runs out of ammo.

Personality & Background: Liberty is the definition of a mercenary with a mouth. Incredibly sarcastic, flirty and witty, she makes little effort to filter her words and make sure that they are acceptable in the current situation. She is incredibly honest and blunt to anyone that annoys her, but an incredible socialite to those that are either worth her time, or have something she needs. She is very unpredictable and volatile, a temper to rival the greats, never having had an authoritative figure in her childhood to help her calm down.

When she was born, Liberty didn’t know her father, told simply that he was dead before she was born. As for her mother, she was only with her for a brief time before the woman got thrown into prison for the murder of her father. When this happened, Liberty was taken into foster care before the age of 1, sent off to live with a peasant family somewhere in Lida. It wasn’t an easy childhood, her new family were abusive, using her only for free labour and helping around the house, as soon as she was of the age to do so.

But, bad news followed, and by the age of 12 her new family were murdered. Apparently, her adoptive father had been dealing with a ring of smugglers, helping them get items in and out of Alexandria. But, when her father threatened to rat them out if they didn’t pay, they took it personally and killed him and his wife.

Liberty was taken in by the gang, and this is where she developed the smug, flirtatious, cocky attitude that is now a staple of her being. She learnt to live the lifestyle of the underground powerfuls, learning to enjoy drinking, smoking and all the other benefits of wealth in the underworld. But her skill was in her smuggling, being a young, unsuspicious girl who could get things through the guards, making her one of the best runners in the game.

But recently, the gang found out who her father was. It turns out that he was one of their enemies, and also that he was actually still alive. She was exiled from the gang because of her lineage, told that she was not worth their time. But, now she knew that her father was alive, and he was last tracked to the Circle. So she headed there, to see if she could find anything about where he was.

Abilities: Liberty does not possess any magical traits or abilities, but her prowess using her pistols is very great. She has spent many years training the art of gun-fu, the ability to use her guns, along with implementing hand to hand combat in her tactics. This tactic makes her an aggressive fighter, always pressing the advantage against her enemies and ensuring that they are incapacitated, due to the use of concussive round, as she never wanted to kill any of her enemies unless that was no other option.. But, if she can avoid fighting, she prefers it, and she mainly does so by flirtation, getting her targets to give her what she wants willingly.
 
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[fieldbox=" Lawrence "Lore" Norbert, #854545, solid, 10, Courter New"]
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Appearance:
Lawrence is 5'9" and weighs about 185 lbs. His built with a fast metabolism that provides his body with a lean appearance. While he does have finely toned muscles he lack's bulk, designed to have strengths in agility, flexibility, and speed. Lawrence's hands are surprisingly long and nimble as well as calloused from constant use. While his complexion is pale it has the ability to tan well without sustaining too much injury from burning and bears quite a few blemishes and marks from years of experience with the world.

Lawrence's most noticeable feature, however, that instantly marks him as a Solistian are his gold eyes and red hair. Often said in lore to be a result of staring at the sun for too long, Lawrence's eyes always seem to gleam with some kind of mischievous, playful intent that is paired with a crooked, charming smile.

Lawrence lets his hair do its thing, so usually its wild and unruly.

Solistian culture focuses heavily on storytelling and as a result, Lawrence has a tattoo of the sun on his chest which he received once he passed his coming of age ceremony (typically between the ages of 16 and 18 for both boys and girls). On his back, he has a compass to represent his achievement as a sailor as well as a few smaller markings on his biceps that represent his accomplishment as a fisherman (a school of fish 'swimming' around his arm). Currently, he is aspiring to earn his badge as an astounding Explorer and dreams of earning the ultimate recognition; challenging the King of the Sea, the Leviathan (a sea creature that resembles a sea serpent and is said to live in the waters around Solistia. Sightings are rare and the creature is slowly turning into more of legend than a reality, but a few die-hard believes still go searching for it).

Character Quote:
"Life's too short to take it easy, better to pass into the next world guns blazing if you ask me!"

Name:
Lawrence Norbert

Age: 25 Years Old

Race: Human; Solistian

Lawrence was born in Solistia, his home country across the sea. The climate is normally dry and sunny, more of desert island continent with a variety of different terrain from one shore to the next. Rain is typically rare and only during the winter months with an occasional shower due to storms coming from overseas. The country specializes in weaving and fishing and is known for their silk and cotton. Fabrics of Solistian culture are usually bright or consist of colors that complement their surroundings. Reds, oranges, and yellows are popular colors but the softer spectrum is also well liked (blues, greens, and whites).

Solistians are known for their exotic jewelry and body art that help to enhance different parts of their culture such as their love for storytelling (as mentioned above), dancing, and trials. As they continue to grow and experience the world Solistians earn tattoos for their achievements. It is not uncommon to see elder Solistian citizens with a majority of their bodies covered in black ink.

Class: Swashbuckler

Personality & Background:
Lawrence could be your typical hero with a heart of gold and—in this case—naivity and ignorance as well. While his heart is in the right place his intentions may not always be helpful, but you can count on him to stay and clean up his mess (or make it accidentally worse). This character trait could be considered his mortal flaw as it leaves him open to manipulation. But it also means that Lawrence has the capability to build lasting bonds with people and those that earn Lawrence's trust and loyalty can always count on him to have their back.

For the most part, Lawrence is a kind, compassionate fellow with a never-ending well of positive energy. He strives to view life through rose-tinted lenses but despite his cheerful point of view, the Solistian is very aware of just how ugly the world can be. And there are moments where a darker side of Lawrence may breach his beaming smile. A rare thing to see but still very much there. The Solistian is not opposed to violence and the sight of gore or blood usually don't faze him (though he will be very concerned) however he will resist killing another being unless his own survival or the survival of another demand it. Having come from a land almost as harsh as Lida, Lawrence understands would survival of the fittest means and has been in plenty of brawls before. He has even killed before and despite his usual disposition, they still burden him.

His cheerful persona is credited to his older brother, Roman Norbert. Just a few years after Lawrence was born, both their parents were killed in a rock slide, leaving the boys by themselves. Obviously, Solistian culture would not allow for these boys to be forgotten and they were quickly taken in by their village but the loss still put a heavy strain on Roman as he, barely a teen himself, not only had to provide for himself but Lawrence as well. Roman's resolve and determination were the only things that kept him from falling into despair as well as the innocent vulnerability of his baby brother. If he gave up Roman wouldn't just condemn himself to the merciless land.

And so Roman raised Lawrence and taught his younger brother to never let the world drag them down. The constant preaching of positive thinking and observing Roman's own behavior influenced the way Lawrence saw the world. There were moments where he witnessed it at its utmost best and moments where Lawrence was forced to see it at its worst. These experiences only strengthen his own beliefs.

Its a wonder too, if Roman is anything like Lawrence then he probably runs straight into danger all the time will reckless abandon and a thirst for adventure. Fear seems to kick in a little too late at times for Lawrence and he often pays the price for his reckless caution (which is practically nonexistent). He's also rather passionate about his morals and may jump to a conclusion without gathering the appropriate information first.
*(Looks to the Magic Circle Incident)*


Abilities:
Agile Swordsman | What Lawrence lacks in strength he makes up for in speed and agility, outmaneuvering most of his opponents.

Incredible Endurance | Self Explanatory

Impeccable Aim | Lawrence is an excellent marksman and has mastered the ability to shoot targets upon moving mounts or modes of transportation. He specializes more in pistols but does admittedly well with larger rifles too.

Monkey Boy | Lawrence has a knack for climbing and reaching hard to get places, a result of maneuvering the rocky terrain of Solistian mountains and canyons.

Intuitive | Despite his naive-ish looks and overly trusting nature, Lawrence was gifted with an eye for observation. Little details stick to his mind hours after he had seen them and he can predict his opponents movements with relative accuracy. This helps him stay a few steps ahead in any fight, especially handy against larger rivals.

Creative/Imaginative | An experienced survivor, Lawrence can make due with the most basic of tools and can even craft things from scratch. He also has an incredible sense of direction.

Extra:
Likes | Food, adventure, pretty things, unique things, strange things, danger, the ocean, his home, his friends, people in general, new swords, new guns, ships, etc.
Dislikes | Malicious Intent, tomatoes, being cooped up, small/tight places (slight claustrophobia), starving, overly humid places, etc.

His all time favorite food is sushi!

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"The world is full of mysteries and great wonders. After all, silver and gold isn't the only treasure out there!"

NAME
Faora Kaynord

AGE
23

RACE
Human, Gualtierrez

CLASS
Pirate

PERSONALITY
Faora is woman who is extremely social. She is funny, active, and loves adventure. Bares no ill-will towards others, unless there's a really good reason for that. Is daring, or one could say she is fearless. Loves to explore the unknown. Dungeons, caves and the likes, you name it. Does not back down from a challenge. One could say she is a good pirate, but does know how to plunder or talk her way out of tricky situations. However, if there is something she really really wants to explore, she may not pay attention to anything else. Heck, she may even drag people she finds interesting with her. Yes, Faora is persistence in some situations and others might even find it annoying or just accept and go with what she wants. Yes, she is very energetic. During tough situations, she is either very serious or a trickster with a cheeky smile plastered on her face. Oh yes, she can also be very clumsy and do something that may create a situation for those around her.

HISTORY
Faora Kaynord was born into a simple family, though her energetic spirit was extremely loveable. Since she was born, she was one hyper kid. Pulling pranks, running down the streets, ending up in fights against other kids. She did end up in a lot of trouble during her time in Gualtierrez. While she grew up, she had the knack of exploring and becoming lost. Yes, she did wander about a lot and even entered one too many places in order to see the wonders that were inside. Though most of the time the guards brought her back to her family. Scolded with love, she decided to become a little trickster when it came to breaking and entering.

Obviously, Faora did not do it by herself, she had a bunch of friends she persuaded into coming with her when she wanted to explore. Gualtierrez was already an amazing and a beautiful place, and imagine what the world had to offer. At a young age, she had thoughts like that. However, Faora, at the age of sixteen, managed to see a ship that was beautiful as ever. What better way than to check it out? Eventually, she was once again caught by the pirate crew of The Albatross. Yes, the ship and its crew were called The Albatross.

They were all pirates and her tenacity, her spirit piqued their interest, but obviously, this was after she was caught by them, or rather, their captain, Nero Greyhart. It was quite funny in her mind, because she was told most if not all pirates were people with bad intentions, though in this case, it wasn't. Even if The Albatross were known around the continents to a certain degree, they were also the type who would help anyone in need. Plunder rich and disgusting people, villagers and so on. However, they were not exactly all good-hearted. They were more or less in the grey zone if anything.

Faora was awe-inspired by the lot and as the days passed, she would always come to the docks. Persuade the captain to let her onboard, to make her a part of the crew. Rejected over and over again, she would still never give up. Even the crew of The Albatross started to like her. Even if Faora wasn't a part of the crew, she even offered to help them in trading goods and the likes. Even if these pirates knew what they were doing, an helping hand would only benefit them.

Faora could've been considered a trickster at that point, which she actually was. She was persuasive as ever and was even an independent woman if anything. Once the ship left the docks of Gualtierrez, she snuck in. Though she told her parents she was going to explore the world. They obviously accepted her wish and allowed for her to go with a few people they very well trusted in. This was a lie though, which they would later find out from the many letters she would send their way.

The crew of the Albatross, or rather the captain could only sigh and accept her as a crew member when they found out she had snuck inside. By then, it was already too late. They were far away from Gualtierrez. To be an official part of the crew, she had to accept what came from it. She had to become a pirate who could handle tough situations. Therefore, at the age of seventeen, she was trained in using a gun, a rifle, and a blade. And now, she is twenty five, and has been a part of The Albatross for almost a decade.

She is the second-in-command of the crew of the Albatross. Rumors has it that the captain considers her a daughter of his if anything, and due to their close relationship as a student-mentor/trainer, their bond grew ever so significantly with one another.

ABILITIES
Swordswoman - Faora has trained with the pirates and Nero Greyhart, their captain for many years. She knows how to use a blade and is really good with it. It should not come as a surprise that the woman has been honing her skills ever since.

Gunmanship - This is what she is really good at. Faora knows how to use a handgun. A pirate having a gun is obvious. Though she mostly excels in using a sniper rifle for long range. For reconnaisance and for other reasons. Though you would only see her using a handgun or a sniper rifle. In order to survive in the world of a pirate, one has to be prepared for anything.

Archery - Faora can also use a bow and arrow, but it is not her first choice of weaponry. She is merely good at it, slightly above the normal skillset.

Trader/Merchant - Being a pirate, one has to be good at trading. With her tenacity, and her persuasive attitude, she can haggle a good price. One can even say that Faora is silver tongued, if anything.

Estía - An artifact she found during her life as a pirate. A green gem in the form of a triangle she can activate and deactivate. A mark appears across her right eye. The said eye glows, giving her the ability to look longer than a normal human. This is basically why she excels in using a rifle and in general, the ability to snipe.
 
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Cain stands at a height of 6'4, without his wolf ears, with a weight of 183lbs(83kg); in addition to the above shown appearance, he also sports large wolf-like ears, a tail that juts out from the small of his back, a tuft of thick, black fur along his sternum, and crimson red irises. In terms of clothing, he tends to also sport a long, hooded cloak, black in color, that reaches down to his ankles.

"Sometimes in life, you just have to go where the winds take you...even if that ends up being the other side of the continent from where you meant to go."

Name: Cain Vik'tal

Age: 558 years.

Race:

Main: 'Magicals'

Subrace: Gwyllgi – The Twilight Wolf

Class: Shadow Brawler – Martial Artist who uses Darkness-type magic to control the battlefield.

Weapon: Weighted Leather Gloves and Boots

Personality:

Cain is commonly known as a whimsical individual driven by his ever changing desires, regardless of the consequences. He cares little for right and wrong, and instead relishes in his personal freedom; the thoughts of 'that is/ could be interesting' and 'I'm bored, I'm going to have a little fun' control him as if he were a shred of paper on the far blowing winds. Though this remains true most of the time, certain factors do often override even these simplistic and ever-present motivations, past grudges accumulated over the span of his long life, the desire to aid his companions, and other similar occurrences have occasionally led even him to do that which he did not want.

Background:

Cain, to put it simply, has been around for a very long time; his earliest memories are of the conflict between the Lidaran Magicals and the Ironskins, fleeing from the retaliatory slaughters of his people as the bioweapon of the Sucre family killed regardless of one's participation, or rather, the lack of, in the growing conflict. His memories of this time have always been hazy, though he does recall that he once had a family in the form of close friends, both Magical and not, before the bioweapon spread to the area he lived; afterwards, he learned to travel alone to prevent the pain of loss as he fled towards the recently discovered continent of Luzvimin.

For the next one hundred years, Cain would travel the continent, wandering between the growing settlements and villages as a hired hand for those Magicals worried about the dangers of humanity. It would only be once the world experienced the first Withering that Cain would vanish off the map, vanishing into the mountains of Luzvimin with several hundred other Magicals to help found the hidden city-state/ country of Sidhe - a haven for refugee Magicals and the first place that he would come to call his home. It would be another few decades before Cain would once again take to the road, leaving behind the comfortable bed and safety of Sidhe in order to take to the road once more.

For the next few centuries, Cain would search for answers relating to the Withering effect that had claimed many lives in the years prior; it wouldn't be long until his searches would lead him after tales of the ancient Magical civilizations from before the creation of the Empire, from a time forgotten by all.

Abilities:

Innate Darkness Magic – His specialty is manifestation, creating temporary items and shadow creatures from his magic as well as producing spheres of darkness.

Transformation – He has the ability to shift between his humanoid appearance and his large dire wolf form.

Likes:

- Traveling

- Reading

- Diving into ancient ruins

Dislikes:

- Lida

- The Sucre family

- Being stuck in the same place for an extended period of time​
 

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Height: 2’3 l Weight: 12 lb

Vi’s pearly scales gleam with the emerald and sapphire hues of the deep waters surrounding her home. Her light blue skin and hair helps keep her camouflaged even when she is swimming in shallower waters. While these adaptations make her an efficient hunter out in the open sea, her doe-eyes, twitchy nose and bunny ears - physical traits shared by all carbuncles - result in other races brushing her off as cute and harmless.

“The waters tell me all I need to know.”
Name: Vivi Whiffle
Age: 137 (Human Equivalent: 26)
Race: Water Sprite (Subspecies: Carbuncle)
Class: Healer

Weapon: Trident

Personality and Background

Vi lived a sheltered life on Florencia Island, a tropical paradise rich in food and sunshine all year round. It was in this safe bubble that Vi grew up oblivious to the problems plaguing the rest of Gualtierrez. She was in her late teens when her parents married her off to a male a decade older. Motherhood followed shortly after, forcing the young carbuncle to adapt quickly to her ever expanding roles within the community.

Her experience was not unusual. The females in the village were raised to be obedient daughters, dutiful wives and loving mothers. The more ambitious ones may run a small family business while the cleverer ones take on apprenticeships. Vi being slightly brighter than her sisters was apprenticed off to her aunt. Her thoughts on the matter were virtually nonexistent. She accepted the new role meekly, because she wanted to make her parents happy.

Like a Hobbit in the Shire, Vi had to be shaken out of her complacency. A strange illness hit the Florencian shores about four months ago. It started with an infected adult in his twilight years but soon many children and elderly were afflicted. Among them was Vi's son. Desperate to cure him, Vi dug deep inside herself and found the courage to volunteer.

A naive carbuncle left the safety of the island weeks after the pestilence arrived. She held onto her optimism as long as she could but reality hit her hard. The discrimination she faced yanked away her rose-tinted glasses and left her feeling increasingly nervous around strangers. An anxiety often amplified by the sight of large crowds packed into confine spaces. Deep down, though, she is the same innocent Magical wishing to find someone she could trust in this bewildering world.

Abilities

Healing – Vi channels her magic into water to give it curative properties. Bathing the injured areas with this water allows her to disinfect open wounds, purge poisons from the body and promote faster healing. Small cuts may close up quickly but grievous wounds will need time to heal.

Hydrokinesis – Being an apprentice healer meant that Vi didn’t time to hone her offensive abilities. She knows enough to be able to deter would be predators using jets of water or imprisoning them inside bubbles. She tends to rely on available sources of water (e.g. the water beads she carries around in her sling) because she hasn’t learned how to extract water from alternative sources (e.g. the air and plants).

Herbalism - Vi is able to recognize medicinal plants that can be used to make soothing salves for burns, bites and stings. Her current knowledge is limited to aquatic plants growing in the waters near her home island because those are the type of plants her village prefers using for food and medicine.

Current Skills

Enchant - Infuse water with magic before using it for healing or spell casting.
Heal - Seals cuts, reduces swelling and makes bruises fade away. Pain will be dulled to some extent. Severe wounds will take a longer time to heal. Small cuts can be healed almost instantaneously.
Healing Sleep - Puts patient to sleep to conserve energy while internal injuries are being healed. Some patients may continue sleeping for hours after they have been healed.
Cleanse - Removes toxins from the body. When Vi is more proficient, she can remove debuffs.
Bubble - Create bubbles or beads of water. Ratio of air to water depends on the caster.
Water Whip - Hurl jets of water in a chosen direction.

Extras
  1. She manages the family seaweed farm while her husband is out at sea.
  2. Her favorite drink is melrose tea.
  3. Although the Florencian carbuncles live on a pescaltarian diet, Vi avoids eating meat when possible.
  4. Favourite food - seaweed biscuits <3
 
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"Pleased to meet you, good sir and madam!"

Name: Theodore Madsen IV
Age: 132
Race: Draugr
Class: Gentleman Scholar

Personality & Background:

A scholarly chap with a strange fixation on tea and all things human, Theodore is a curious soul with a passion for learning and exploring - attributes that serve him quite well, considering his position as a researcher for the Draugr empire.

Theodore was sent above ground on his 131st year, the mission, to study humans and the world above for academic purposes. He'd always dreamed of exploring the surface and he was absolutely elated.

The humans who encountered him however, were not as enthusiastic as he was. Almost immediately after he'd set out on his grand adventure, he was labeled a monster and chased down by several city guards. The same thing happened in the next city and in the city after that. He adapted (as best as he could) and bought several layers of clothing to hide his bony form. He also attempted to pose as a human researcher, and while guards stopped chasing him out of cities, dogs continued to do so.

After a month of this continuous suffering, a dog ate his map (it almost ate his leg too) and he wound up horribly lost.

Theodore has been roaming the surface world ever since, and eventually, he stumbled upon Aesyth.

Abilities:

  • Osteokinesis - Theodore can manipulate his bone density and regenerate broken or fractured bones. He can also morph his bones into weapons or use them as projectiles in combat. Also, because of this power, he can mend broken bones.
Extra:
  • Poses as a human whenever he firsts meets people in hopes of avoiding descrimination
  • Wears layers and layers of clothing to hide his undead-ness
  • Dislikes dogs because he is often attacked by them, thinks they're demons
  • His best friend is a mangy stray cat he named Percy. The two have been traveling together ever since his first day on the surface
  • Is surprisingly well, has a soft spot for poetry and literature
  • Despite his hatred for dogs, he likes animals because unlike humans, they don't judge people based on their appearances
  • Generally polite, old-fashioned, very respectful towards ladies
  • Likes to eat and sleep even though he doesn't need it, human customs interest him greatly
 
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Appearance: Shiroi stands at about 6'2" and prefers to keep his weight a secret, though one glance at
him will reveal he's relatively heavy underneath all that fluff and fur. His posture is stiff, almost like a soldier or a knight standing in place or guarding an entrance, never lax or letting his guard down at any given moment. He's never seen wearing anything else other than his ceremonial robes and prayer beads, claiming that they enhance his abilities. Two long and large fox tails swish behind him, almost prehensile in nature, as if they have a mind of their own.

"Humans never cease to both amuse and disappoint me."

Name: Shiroi Hiroshi

Age: 234

Race: Tamamo, of the Kuzunoha variety.

Class: Onmyoji

Personality & Background: There are those in the village who say that Shiroi is a killjoy, a stick in
the mud, a guy who takes his job way too seriously. Truth be told, Shiroi doesn't necessarily see
himself as any of those things, all he knows is that he's doing his job as a member within their close-
knit community, but perhaps he's being a little too dedicated with his duty. He's a stern individual who
prefers to keep to himself and prefers spending time at home with his son than at a large marketplace
full of noise. Humor and jokes tend to fly pass him as he never seems to get the point to them. He's not
one for showing lovey-dovey affections out in the open as he feels uncomfortable, and would prefer to
let his actions speak louder than his words.

Having never set foot off of Konohana for over two centuries, Shiroi has acted as a guardian of sorts for the hidden village. Deterring would-be invaders that seek to disrupt the peace and serenity of their home, much of the majority of his life has revolved around fighting, not for violence or conquest but to protect and keep order. Sometime in his lifetime, he attracted the attention of a long-time admirer of his, a vixen calling herself Kayo. The young woman admitted that she looked up to him as a hero of sorts, how he boldly stands at the front lines whenever danger approaches or how serene he always seems to be when he's just sitting around and guarding the perimeters, bashfully she even told him how she wanted to be a defender like him and not just some frumpy girl serving snacks and drinks at the local tea house for some idiots who probably don't even know how to call up a flame. At first Shiroi dismissed her as nothing more than a fanatic, explaining to her that he was nobody special and brushed her off.

Time passed and Kayo proved to be just as persistent as the fox man, visiting him daily and taking up most of his free time when he wasn't out on the fields, even giving him the occasional gift or lunch, to the point where she would persuade him to visit and eat at the tea house she was working at every single day, eventually Shiroi couldn't deny that he admired the girl's enthusiasm and tenacity, and under the moonlight, the vixen looked absolutely captivating. Many winters passed and Shiroi admitted to himself that he felt a connection from Kayo, a spark that ignited more than a few flames and said as much to her. Overwhelmed by glee, he and Kayo had become inseparable from then on.

At least that's what he thought...As fate would have it, Kayo passed on, but not before bestowing her lover with a child; Ryota. Panting, heaving, and crying, Kayo was proud of the gift she had given to Shiroi this time, knowing full well he'd appreciate it with all his life, the fox man could swear that even as she faded away, a smile still painted her face. Years passed once more and Shiroi began to grew weary and forlorn with the absence of Kayo, his child taking notice of how distant he'd always be whenever her name would come up, and even stepping down from his duty as a guardian to spend the rest of his days drinking rice wine at the tea house, reflecting on the days that have gone past.

However, a change in the wind was stirring up chaos, and even the inexperienced Tamamo felt an ever-so slight disturbance stirring up, something was coming...something unpleasant, one that could inevitably affect them for better or worse. The fox man sighed and groaned, he knows that if he and the others didn't make a stand, they'd never hear the end of it, or worse; be blamed for the deaths of many. Clutching his child for what felt like the last time, Shiroi vowed to Ryota that he and the others tasked with defending their home would come back safe. Hopefully in one piece too.

Abilities: Shiroi exhibits the usual racial skills of his kind; shapeshifting, pyromancy, and illusion magic.
His second tail is proof of his above-average skill of manipulating flames and conjuring them from thin-air. He can create balls of fire and pillars of flame, and even shroud himself in a coat of flames. Of note is that he cannot control or manipulate another individual's fire.


His shapeshifting and illusionary abilities however leave much to be desired. Shiroi has troubles controlling his disguises and often always leave one detail of his identity uncovered and his illusions are a risky bet when it comes to even the regular human. As such, the fox man's guises are situational and he only uses them whenever necessary. His illusions are better geared toward creatures and animals; targets that have little mental defenses.

Extra: Things he likes include; His son, fried tofu, poetry (He's not good at it though.), the spring
season, gaining new tails, warm baths, and sleeping.
Things he dislikes include; crowded and loud places, Daji Tamamo, touchy-feely individuals, being called
"dog", "mutt", "fat" or any derivatives thereof, getting his fur dirty, snow, and grapes.


#NoRagrets​
 
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Appearance: At a height of 5'6" (167cm) and weighing in at 144lb (65kg), Yadira is a rather well proportioned woman. Physically fit and muscular for her frame and size. Dexterous and agile, she is surprisingly fast when confronted. A parasol is her constant companion, wearing long leggings, red shoes or brown boots, a red plaid dress, yellow ascot and three leather belts are her constant companions. Of note is her nearly constant smile, piercing red eyes and short green hair. Something about her appearance seems to alternate between putting others on edge or off their guard depending on the situation.

Character Quote: "Oh my, whatever gave you such fanciful ideas? I am rather harmless you know, yet a rose has it's thorns.."

Name: Yadira Arella Rahman Reyes

Age: 21

Race: Human, Queendom of Gualtierrez

Class: Minstrel / Journeyman Protector

Personality: An always smiling and fairly observant woman, Yadira is often well mannered, soft spoken and proper in her conduct. With a good memory and a strong sense of justice, the woman often wanders towns and roads to at face value gather stories and songs, recording them for historical records in the Imperial Homeland. One to not fear force or the use of it, she seems to go out of her way to not kill others to an extent, using her parasol in a most unorthodox fashion to fend off and beat down foes. Typically she tries to avoid drawing attention, though some events may force her hand. Unless there is another need she claims to be a Wandering Minstrel traveling the lands to spread natures bounty in the form of flowers which she seems to love and enjoy the sight of.

While she has a strong sense of the law, she doesn't seem to have a problem with eaves dropping and "crossing the line" on some occasions, such as with breaking and entry on probable cause.

Background: Born on the plains at the far reaches of the Empire, Yadira's parents perished at an early age given an unfortunate and unforeseen famine in her area, living with two younger siblings, a brother and a sister, Yadira would live with her Grandfather and Grandmother, who were bakers of the local Village of Florence. Running a farm on the side the small family largely grew it's own wheat and sunflowers for sail at the market and processing into grain for bread making, it was mostly a boring life, but Yadira's habits in regards to information gathering and being nosey would start here as she took on a role well before her age.


Studying at the local monastery, Yadira took up under the practice of an aging drunk Monk trained in the use of hook swords simply known as Father Morton. Not wanting to see a woman with a real weapon in her hands and not wanting to put up with the never-ending whining and sneaking he took the young girl under his tutelage, but only under the agreement that she would use a weapon fitting for a woman furnished by him, in this case simply parasol. Expecting the girl to back off or give up, Father Morton was rather dismayed and impressed by the tactics she would come up with and how she could copy his sword style. Eventually he would warm up slightly, teaching her the ways of the hidden blade, upgrading her weapon in turn. Worried that she would make the same mistake as his last pupil and turn to evil he sat about installing the Ethos of justice into the woman while encouraging she learn other things than the sword, which would set her on an unexpected path. Though her prying into others affairs would cause no shortage of problems for the Monk or her Grandparents.


Upon reaching her Adulthood Yadira wasted little time in venturing out to the Capital to meet with the Journeymen Protectors until she knew what she wanted to do. Feeling what she learned could be useful here, and with a little refinement and official training from her side, she would get the chance to see much more of the world, with a few instructions here and there it was a test of her capabilities and future in the organization. A little over a year later and she's now sat her sights on the City of the Circle.

(Details on the Journeymen to follow at another time in the Lore section.)

Abilities:

Parasol Proficiency: Using her traveling Parasol as a weapon she seems fairly well trained in it's use but needs refinement or combat experience in it's practice, unnervingly she can use it to glide down, and perhaps with magical enhancement to fly some distance with the aid of the wind.

Swordsmanship: The Parasol contains a hidden blade that is used only under circumstances approved by the Lucieri Journeyman Code. Her swordsmanship is comparable to the average guardsmen or soldier fresh from training.

Espionage
: Skilled at spying on others and collecting details of their conversations and meetings, Yadira also is skilled at less lawful means of entry, such as stealth or lock picking.

Extra:
- Generally loves green tea and flowers, especially sunflowers.

- She can play a few musical instruments and can tell stories somewhat well but she's not experienced enough to totally be her cover occupation past a level.

- Yadira generally hates petty and selfish people.

- Tends to like kids, even if at times she scares them.

- Plants flower seeds and picks wild flowers along her journeys.

- Seems to dislike bandits and criminals can be an iffy spot for her depending on motives.

- Seems to think highly of her old master and family.

- Has no preference in food but seems to mostly enjoy fruits and vegetables with a bit of meat, rarely eats bread having ate it most of her life.
 
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"Order and virtue, guide my blade."
Myara Loreis
Standing at 5'6", Myara is hardly as an imposing figure as she tries to be. Her refined appearance may fool others into believing she is some form of royalty, specially due to her long, straight, black hair flowing down to her lower thighs and flat cut bangs resting on her forehead. The young girl is shrouded in an aura of honor and can be seen by outsiders as someone who rarely smiles, instead wearing mostly a stern expression to her face. Rarely wears any casual clothes, instead wearing the uniform of the Golden Blades.
Age: 20
Race: Human
Nationality: Vesiria, Gualtierrez
Class: Ronin Samurai

Weapon
Myara wields a very special and unique weapon. It is a part of the many extremely successful experiments produced by a group named Esclarecer(Enlighten).

Specifically, the blade was specially forged with magical material and infused with the essence of a Fiend. Particularly, Myara's straight Nodachi possesses the essence of a being known as Asura, who represents the evil in Pride. Asura can and will constantly affect Myara's state of mind, many times tempting her, at others attempting to draw out negative emotions out of her to power itself.

Being a blade forged and infused with the essence of a Fiend, the sword has special characteristics that wouldn't be seen in any enchanted item. Firstly, the blade possesses a naturally high temperature on normal, thus making it easier to cut through objects. Secondly, the monster inside the blade grows stronger the more people it's wielder kills. Killing Magicals seem to increase it's power even more than humans by a ten times scale, depending on the killed Magical's power.

Asura holds an immense magical potential inside of itself, but careful usage is required, as the blade acts much akin to a parasite, and sucks it's user's control the more it's power is used.

Personality & Background
At the northern edge of the Gualtierran landmass lies a country left most untouched by the Church, and kept to their own machinations and cultural premises: Vesiria. There, military might and honor are prized far more than monetary wealth. Their titles are often given to the most strong and brave. The courageous are exalted and praised. Even the smallest amount of dignity is valued at their sight. Being a country that benefits from the war greatly, they have recently pledged to assist the Empire in it's war effort, and as a result was added to the roster of allied forces. Even so, their politics and culture have been left completely untouched, to the point where the country doesn't even feel to be truly part of the Queendom. While politically and officially, Vesiria is a part of the Empire, in truth they are left mostly to themselves, mainly as the Queendom finds it too difficult to change their ideology at this point.

Myara was the daughter of a prominent figure in the country, and because of that was pushed towards military lifestyle. She was taught most of the ideological tenants of Vesiria, and though she didn't believe in all of them, she lived by them. Many say that living by the sword is not the best form of life, but in Vesiria, living or dying by the sword is the only form of life. In the country where military and politic lines are so blurred it is difficult to tell which is which, the choices are often thinned to the point of there being no choices. The young girl lived her life as she could, and was renowned as an honorable figure among the Golden Blades, a mercenary group among Vesiria. All things considered, she was happy with her style of life. The young woman possessed friends, allies and the prized honor that she had managed to conquer.

It was a shame that it all ended 2 years ago. In an unprecedented incident, Myara lost her rank, her honor and her allies. The Golden Blades was disbanded and she was Dishonored. Stripped of all but her sword, her clothes and her name, Myara was banished from Vesiria. It was thus that she had lost all that she once had. All but one thing... And this thing, she will hunt down until she recovers, no matter what.

Abilities

  • Expert Swordsmanship: Basic swordsmanship is often taught to even the youngest children of Vesiria. It is in their curriculum to know all about combat and, as they grow older, duels are often tests of rank and considered of utmost importance. Myara is no different. She was taught much in the ways of the sword, particularly of the exquisite blades forged in Vesiriaa.
  • Basic History Knowledge: Taught to some members of the Golden Blade, they're often taught in the history of their own country and other surrounding countries. Their knowledge is mostly focused in the Gualtierrez continent, however, and involve a great portion of studying the military side of the situation. In general, she's well versed in this type of knowledge.
  • Court Etiquette: Although not nobility, in Vesiria, all military and mercenary are taught the basics of Court Etiquette as to represent the honorable treatment to all who are part of the military ranks. In general, the military is often more in the presence of nobility than the opposite, and their treatment of the military greatly resembles the treatment of nobility, making the lines between the two severely blurry. As a part of her mentor's ideal teaching method, she was taught how to behave in court, which adds to her refined manner of speech and of act.

Extra:
  • Her favorite drink is hot chocolate milk, as she was often given to by her mentor during the cold winter of Vesiria.
  • Possesses an uncanny hatred for any form of dishonorable or craven act. This results in her being very dense and disliking people who "dance with words" too much, often wishing they instead go directly to the point.
  • Her favorite food types are vegetables and meat, and she'll often state this is so because soldiers need nutrients to grow strong.
  • Will often attempt to teach others in the art of swordsmanship as her mentor did, dreaming of becoming a mentor herself one day.
  • Has great interest in the art of forging weapons, weapons in general and the science behind Lida's technological weaponry.
  • Often prefers to be led instead of leading. Will not follow those weak of heart, however.
  • Despises killing and unnecessary deaths, to the point where she won't kill a person no matter how dangerous they can be to her. Will often seek peaceful solutions before going towards violent methods.
 
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Appearance​
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Usually, with knapsack slung over shoulder and head panning from left to right. Bryte at first glance is the picture of a ship adrift at sea. Standing a few inches shy of six feet and sporting the fiery red bangs known to Lida. Bryte tends to wear mismatch clothing that doesn't adhere to codes of dress. Giving a rugged impression from his tendency to sleep outdoors and forage for food, he prefers travel atop his ambling footsteps.

"Hmm. Was this the poison? *Sip* Yea-hm... that's it... Where was... the nullifier? *Cough*"


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Bryte - The Wanderer​
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  • Age: 24
  • Race: Human
  • Nationality: Lidaran
  • Class: Tempest

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Personality & Background​
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Bryte put simply is a free spirit. Choosing to roam wherever the next horizon lays and explore what's beyond it. He displays an almost childish fascination and joy for discovery. When others traverse a town with the use of map, he strolls about it in order to see what the map does not tell. The living community behind the lines on paper with its special quirks and distinct appearance. A man of experience in this way, he must take the journey not read about it.

Daring to push the limits of boundaries on just about anything. He is far from above testing his potions personally which at times leads to disastrous results. In battle, he is the first to commit fully and willing to take the gamble over the defensive play. Weathering the dangers of the wild and uncharted depths of the world with a smile. Carrying a sense of humor tends to be his best ally in these endeavors.

Born and partly raised among a small forested village on the continent of Lida. Living beside a woodland that nurtured one's natural interest for exploration. It wasn't all that surprising that Bryte began to leave home for the rest of the world at an early age. Beginning when he was just fourteen, his first adventures were to the woods and the next village over. Often returning home a few days later, with earned experience the return trips began to grow more lengthy. Branching further after each return, eventually the day came when he decided to say goodbye to the little cottage in the woods and become a travelling apothecary.

Teaching of nature's remedies for the ill and injured as well as offering his fair share of nostrum. Bryte roamed for several years across the treacherous backyard of Lida until his travels had him stumble into the neighboring continents. Which then after a time, he found himself settling within Gualtierrez. There enthralled by the rich history and ruins to dot the kingdom, he began making a living not only from his alchemy, but as a treasure hunter.

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Extra​
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  • Dislikes spicy food.
  • Keeps rather large leather journals.
  • Carries a six foot whip.
  • Favorite Food - Apples
 
The Venomeroth

Amos "Havoc" Deanston
H A V O C

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Gender:
Male

Age:
26 years old

Appearance:
5'9"
142 lbs
Lean, slim, nimble. Built for agility, stealth, and flexible.
Pure white hair with glowing violet eyes (the intensity of the glow depends on the use of magical items). Pale skin, appearing to be ghostly pale or phantom-like. Jumps between bored expressions to sinister sneers and smirks, often verging on insanity.

Personality:
Havoc, by nature, is destructive. He lives for it. He has a twisted sense of humor in witnessing the destruction of things and finds more pleasure being the one to cause it. You could say Havoc views it as a twisted form of art. It satisfies a certain part of him that remains broken, a side of him that finds comfort in the ruined society.

Besides being sadistic and cruel, Havoc gets bored very easily and because of that is prone to bouts of depression or temper tantrums. However, when something interesting comes along, like a challenge, he perks right up. One might describe his mannerisms as that of a cat. He enjoys toying with people, taunting them and trying to coax out a response. A typically bully if you will.

But despite being roguish, rude, and overly proud Havoc does possess the ability to recognize an individual's skills or power and will openly acknowledge it. A sign of respect if you will. If he likes you, expect lots of teasing and taunting and perhaps some rough and tough affection (in the form of explosives, brutal punches, highly poisonous guests in your bed, etc). If he hates you, well, don't expect to see tomorrow.

Havoc doesn't create grudges easily but will if the situation was less than pleasant for him. He's not the kind of guy that has a vendetta against anyone. He's just here to have fun and make life more "exciting". Money doesn't really matter to him.

Bio:
Havoc's history is anything but happy. He was born to a rich and noble family in Lida. His mother perished during his birth and he was left within the care of his wet nurse. Havoc's father spent little time with him and when he did it typically never ended well for the young boy. Sir Deanston was a cruel man and very abusive. His treatment of Havoc left the boy bruised and scarred. Havoc was never an emotional soul, more of a quiet child at least until the age of 5. His quiet spell was broken, revealing an energized child with devious intentions. It wasn't long before the staff grew irksome with his impish deeds but despite his worst pranks, no one ever laid a finger on him. Perhaps it was the number of markings he bore on his body, all gained from encounters with the master of the house, that kept them from punishing him.

It was never determined if their reluctance was due to pity or true affection for the boy, whatever the case, they all survived the sudden fire that burned down the Deanston Manor during Havoc's eighteenth birthday. Witnesses say there were ungodly explosions and a great burst of light that took out the entire north wing of the house, right where Sir Deanston's office was.

Authorities soon discovered that the young Amos Deanston had been responsible for his father's death and have been searching for him ever since.

Skills:
Havoc stole prototype gauntlets that allowed him to plant explosive magic circles where ever he threw them. These along with other magical gadgets, allow the young Lidan to move with inhuman speed and withstand heavy blows. His gauntlets are his signature weapons however and he is never seen without them. Besides planting magic circles they can also repel a force of manual or magical origins and send them back to the attacker.

Depending on the mods he has handy, Havoc can switch from different modes on his gauntlets that can let him teleport short distances, run-up vertical surfaces as well as ceilings, give him super strength, and (as mentioned before) shield him. The only drawback is he can only use one mod at a time and must switch between them in order to operate his different gauntlet mods.

While Havoc is no charismatic sweet talker, he has a knack for hitting nervous and riling people up. He's a seasoned fighter but resorts to underhanded methods and dirty tricks to mess with his opponents.

Havoc is very observant despite his rash and reckless personality. He can easily pick out weaknesses in others as well as other little details, like where they have hidden weapons on their persons and the such.


Ruvaen "Rev" Ermer
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GENDER
Male

AGE
29

RACE
Shyn

APPEARANCE
Ruvaen is 6'1 in height and weighs about 173 LBS. He is tanned with an athletic and well built body. Sharp blue eyes with his white hair and black furry ears. Ruvaen is nothing but half man and half beast. If anything, you can say he is half a wolf. This allows him to be extremely fast and flexible. Tends to keep a rather indifferent expression plastered on his face, but it can change, as it often does.

PERSONALITY
Ruvaen or Rev, is a rather simple man. Being a mercenary, he goes by a code. If a job is requested and they accept it, there is no turning back, even if an offer with more gold is on the table. He relishes in battles and has a rather sheepish side to him. Tends to observe and then act, rather then go straight into a fight. Is extremely blunt and yes, even condescending towards those who go against him, and turns out to be weak. Can be considered a lenient man but he definetely isn't. Has a rather professional attitude in some cases.

If someone is worthy of his attention, his blood would boil. When he gets serious, you would definetely see a wide grin plastered on his face, and his glare intense. He has a strong dislike for humans but rarely shows it.

BIOGRAPHY
A Magical like many out there, he was and is, also a Mage. Born into a well established family in Luhain, they kept to the forest because of the humans. Keeping to themselves and thriving, surviving, they had a relative good life. Obviously, they were a race called the Cait, and they were mostly referred to people with furry ears. Some even had a tail. Such a wide and broad race could mean anything. People would resemble a wolf, or a cat and so on. Obviously, the race never really had a place to call home, or a city. They were spread about in the World. Some attempted to blend in with the humans, some did not.

However, Luzvimin was a place for any type of Magical, because there, the relationship between humans and Magicals was good. They co-existed together and that was one of the things that made Luzvimin such a great place. Ruvaen on the other hand felt the same way during his younger days, but unfortunately, it changed. It was only inevitable that hunters would eventually find out where his family were staying. And in an attempt to save him during the unfortunate event, they all perished by the hands of the humans.

Ruvaen managed to escape. He ran and ran for as long as he could before he passed out. Taken in by a Magical, who was nothing but a Gwyllgi, he managed to survive for the time being. Obviously, one could say that the Cait is very similar to the Gwyllgi but that was not the case here. The Cait may have animal features such as a tail and furry ears, but thats pretty much it.

This Gwyllgi was an old man who helped him cope with his loss. It was very odd for someone as a Gwyllgi to take in Ruvaen. Anyhow, staying with him at some point, Ruvaen became independent and learned much from the old Gwyllgi. He eventually set out and became a lone wolf, a wanderer, but his hate for the humans never changed.

Eventually, he became a part of a mercenary group, and has then stayed with them because of a few particular reasons. Ruvaen is exceptionally good at blending in with the humans and to take his time.

SKILLS
Gunslinger
- Is extremely good with guns of any type, and can use it well in combination with his flexibilty and martial arts. He also has magical imbued bullets that would explode on impact. It can be from a poisonous cloud to a simple explosion.

Shadow Manipulation - Has the ability to tap into his magical side to conjure and manifest shadows around him. They can be used both offensively and to teleport around. But the latter can only happen in short distances. He cannot travel from a city to another. Is mostly used to trick and defeat his opponents, or to infiltrate a place, or kidnap a target if anything.

VOICE


Adanna
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Age: 30

Appearance: As the Vice-Commander of a freelance mercenary company, "Adie" cuts an imposing figure with a height of 5'11" and a fit, sturdy physique scarred by years of experience on the field. Compared to the blustering exterior of their Chief, his second-in-command maintains a cool and unobtrusive demeanor throughout their missions--unimpressive like the stone walls of a cliff, and just as enduring. She is rarely seen wearing anything frivolous or too different from the form and function of their formal corps uniform.

Biography: A lot of rumors about Adie's well-hidden past have come to surface during her long tenure with the group, but none have gained so much widespread support as that which points to a career as a Pit Fighter in Lida's infamous clan arenas. Underground arenas, where clans from all hidden corners and stretches of the poisonous wasteland convened and threw their strongest blades in the pit, were a rare but culturally significant event throughout Lida. Participants were made to fight with each other, not to mention great beasts, for their own self-fulfillment or the more pragmatic reason of staying alive. There was supposedly good reason for this conjecture; Adie was a survivalist, and she was damn good at holding her own during a fight. Upon hearing the grand debates conjured up to pick apart her past, however, Adie denied everything and reminded the mercenaries to focus on their assignments.

Of course, the peace never lasted long.

Most importantly, the group has recently run through a spectacularly bad stretch of jobs and financial problems thanks to the inadequacy --and spending habits--of their leader. Adie has been de facto Chief for the better part of three months now, but even she can only do so much; their current mission is one of the few ones that might pay enough to get them back on their feet.

Skills:
Scrapper -- Adie may be using a polearm as her primary weapon, but she has a passing knowledge of other weapons--and more importantly, where to hit to hurt the most. She has no concept of fairness in a fight, and will use every bit of hard-earned tactics she has accumulated over the years to bring her opponent to their knees.

Advanced Pyromancy -- Adie has a good grasp of elemental fire magic, which she uses for both offense and defense purposes. She prefers keeping her spells tight and close to her body, or as enchantment for her weapon, instead of lobbing around magic.

Athleticism -- Feats of physical activity and extended exercise are common fare to Adie.
 
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"Ya all thinking too much. if we just hit em' hard 'nough, won't have to be worryin' 'bout em' lettin' everyone else know 'bout us. Ain't no way in' bein' sneakier, then just rippin' his nob off!""


[bg=#8A0829]Personal Info[/bg]
Name: Aeor "Eir (Air)" Ulo
Age: 115, seems early twenties
Race: Tiefling
Class: Savage

[bg=#8A0829]Personality & Background:[/bg]

Aeor is, well, she is in a single word; blunt. In every meaning of the word, the Tiefling embodies what the rumors of the tribal race say, and that is unruly, violent, savages. Though, she would tell you that, as far as her people are considered, she is certainly one of the more tame ones. Oh, yes, and among the Tiefling tribes, Aer might as well be wearing ankle length dresses. With a fowl, loud mouth, and the lack of modesty to boot, Aeor has always been curious how she always manages to find herself in as much trouble as she does. It seems that after leaving her tribe and joining civilization, she hadn't expected to be considered lesser then everyone else, or that shouting curses at anyone who might dressed snazzy or said something she didn't like might just start a fight. Figured it out pretty quick though, Aeor did.

Any civilized person wouldn't be able to tell, but Aeor was once a Tiefling princess! Funny, when she mentions it, no one believes her, but it's true! She earned the title in a tribe-wide contest, pitting the woman against each other in combat for an unknown prize. Greedy, as she is, the contest was plenty bait to draw in Aeor, and through blood, sweat, and more blood she won the contest. To her infinite disappointment, however, the contest had been a ploy for the Chieftan's son to find a suitable mate, and Aeor wanted no part in any of that. The man's horns grew from his cheeks, and came out his mouth. He was literally a boar! Not to mention, the only reason he even hunted was to eat, not for the spirit of the hunt, or the glory. He was a boar, and a bore. Fat, too.

Knowing that refusing to partake in the joining rituals of the Tiefling would mean her face would end up stapled to a wall of the prince's hut, she did what any being with a sense for survival would do, and ran. The Tiefling know their are cities beyond their forests, and deserts, but those people are lame, and over-considerate. They give value to metals that should be turned into things to beat their enemies with, for goodness sake! Alas, it was her only hope of keeping life and face.

The onyx-horned girl may be the first of her kind to meld into civilization, but apart from constant fights, arrests, and running from would-be slavers, she'd say she's done a pretty good job blending in. Of course, 'blending in' to her is to just hitting something before it has the chance to decline or flee.

[bg=#8A0829]Abilities: [/bg]

  • Enraged Strength - Using a spellbound spirit, Tieflings are able to morph their body. Not exactly at will, but in correlation with their emotions. Aeor, with growing anger can take advantage of the strengths of this animal. This can multiply her strength, speed, sense and durability. Of course, this takes time and practice to hone. This 'rage mode' is exhausting. Imagine doing everything you're already doing, while also sprinting.
  • Hybrid Form - When enraged past a certain point, a Aeor's body will break, change and mutate to become half of the beast she is bound to. In this state, her skin hardens, she is covered in thick bear fur and down and takes on a beastly visage. Where her mouth and nose once was, their is a fanged beak, and her eyes become large, in the likeness of an owl. From her fore arms down into her back, extend large wings that allow her advantage in vertical movement, temporary flight, and then gliding. Her hands become larger, and clawed, and her adorned with deadly talons. This does come with a price, however. When the anger subsides, the pain of changing your body in such an extreme matter, along with any damage the hybrid takes, falls onto Aeor. It can leave her indisposed for days.
  • Complete Beast Form - Although she's never experienced it, it is said that a Tiefling of the Ulo tribe can fully transform into body of the beast they are bound to. This is said to happen in times of loss, and life or death situations, When Aeor becomes an Owlbear, she becomes a behemoth of a monster; standing on all fours at nearly five and a half feet tall, and when standing bipedal, nearly nine feet. The Owlbear is a monster; with huge, barbed claws and talons, and the ability to see in the night.
  • Improvised Weapons - Thanks to a rather vast pool of strength, Aeor has a rather... peculiar way of fighting. Whether it be a building support, long tables, whole pieces of wall, she doesn't really have a preference of what she wants to hit things with. These improvised weapons seem to be a better choice for a savage then, say, a sword. If Aeor were to ever say, 'the pen is mightier then the sword', one might take into consideration how hard the Tiefling can stab things with a pen.


    • [bg=#8A0829]Other Stuff[/bg]
      Likes:
      • Meat
      • Fruit
      • Battle
      • Fire-dancing
      • Hunting
      • Drinking
      • Full moon nights

      Dislikes:
      • Vegetables
      • Bows and crossbows
      • Fighting spell-casters
      • Slow music
      • Strategies
      • Restraining clothing

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      • Tiefling's use a different calendar then most the rest of the world; five human years, is equivalent to one Tiefling year. So while Aeor will state she is 23, by human standards, she would be 115.


 
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  • Bucket of Rainbows
Reactions: Warden
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5'11"

"Aye, I used to think it best to travel alone. But I learned that the hard way - ye cannae rely on just yerself. Ye need someone to hold your hair back when it all goes tits up."

Bran Lewis
Age: 34
Race: Human
Nationality: Lidan
Class: Arcane Ranger
Weapon: A longbow, along with two kinds of arrow - some standard, wooden shaft and steel headed arrows, and two cork headed, wooden shafted arrows. The cork tipped arrows are used in conjunction with his magic, due to their non-piercing heads.

Appearance:
Bran is a fair and freckled man, with a pleasant smile despite his heavily scarred right side.
He walks with an air of certainty and purpose, past arrogance tempered with horrifying failure leaving him a much more rounded man. He has a reasonable amount of lean musculature, especially around his legs, and his left hand is rough and calloused through wear and tear. His right arm is missing a few inches below the shoulder, around halfway down his upper arm.
He however does wear a somewhat primative prosthetic, at least when he feels he needs to. It's bulky form is not suited to fine motor control such as writing or tying knots, but enables him to wield his bow just fine. He claims it irritates him however, so will go without during times of rest.

Background and Personality:
He didn't want to die.

Well, nobody wants to die. But right until this point, Bran felt... invincible. Naive. And now, here he was, dying anyway. His entire being was screaming against this fate, his mind running a thousand miles an hour, his heart smashing itself against his ribcage. But his body just cooled as his blood pooled beneath him, as he clutched at the mess which used to be his arm.
He screamed out in defiance. He could barely even move, but he had to. He was not going to die. Not here. He willed his body to stop what it was doing and move with every fibre of his being. At the time, with the adrenaline running, he didn't realise what he was doing. He hauled himself up and dragged himself, half dead, away from where he had fell. It was supposed to be an easy job. Sure, the creatures were dangerous here, but he had always been fine before. He knew them. He knew what they could do. Until now. He kept moving, forcing each impossibly heavy foot in front of the other. He couldn't die. Not in this wasteland, to be devoured by beasts. He lost track of time. Five minutes stretched into eternity, a foot into miles. He stumbled and slipped, unsteady by the lack of balance as he moved.

A shriek pulled him out of his haze. A girl cradling a bundle of wheat to her chest in horror, a farmhouse behind her. Oh. He managed to make it. Huh. He blinked a couple of times, before looking down at himself. He stared at his bloodied hand in a glazed daze, at the pale pinkish mist softly eminating from his fingers and permiating his stump. It was strange. The familiar warmth of an old friend he had never met. Oh, he thought numbly. That... explains a lot of things. It was at this point that he lost consciousness, crumpling into a heap as the bloodflow resumed to full strength from his wounds. And that was how Bran discovered he had a gift in the healing arts.

Since then Bran had forsaken the lone wanderer life he had until that point. He commissioned a cheap arm with what little money he had, one he could take off at will. And he began a new life as a mercenary. He enjoys travelling the world, but would quite like his chance of revenge on the creature that got the jump on him.

In terms of personality he is somewhat well balanced, difficult to get a rise out of even when insulted. He is also somewhat amicable and has a pretty decent sense of humour, even the self-depricating kind. He had come up against the terrible monsters of his homeland and lost, leaving him with a more realistic rather than optimistic mindset. He is still a little proud and a tad stubborn, and dislikes having to ask others to help with tasks he thinks he should be able to do by himself. He has a particularly strong sense of self-preservation, and will struggle to hang around for a losing battle. He really likes cats.

Abilities:
Bran is first and foremost a highly skilled archer. His talents have been dulled somewhat by the loss of his arm, although his prosthetic allows him to continue to wield the bow. He still possesses a somewhat uncanny ability to read the winds, as well as an above average keeness of sight. He is more likely to miss these days, but he still knows how to spot a target.

His secondary ability is more unusual - his magic is an unrefined but restorative faint pink mist he can manifest from his remaining hand and transmit through touch. It can slowly close small wounds, and can help prevent larger wounds from deteriorating provided that touch and concentration is maintained throughout. This limit does mean that he cannot actively heal a larger wound by himself, and obviously his magic has limits with how large a wound it can even stablise. His magic cannot prevent scarring, nor can it remove toxins, diseases or foreign bodies... at least as he is now.
His magic however posesses a quirk which he exploits as much as he can. And that is that his magic can cling to a small object, allowing him to effectively use it as a proxy. An object such as an arrow. These charged items can only hold the magic for a few seconds, and the potency of the magic is weaker than if Bran touched them directly. He cannot close wounds with this ability, but he can slow bleeding in smaller wounds or give himself a few precious seconds more to reach the target himself with larger wounds.
Higher quality arrows can hold hold the magic for a second longer. Refined metal, such as a crossbow bolt, cannot hold it at all.

Extras:
Has a bit of a gambling problem, and is prone to losing all his money. As such he complains about the cost of pretty much anything.
Coincidentally, he's very, very good at living off the land.
Likes his alcohol, his resistance to it is nothing special though.
If it isn't already apparent, he has a Scottish accent. I'll keep it mild, because legibility is a thing.
Despite his freckles, he does not get sunburn. Psst, it's because of the magic.

Bran is designed to be weaker at shooting than Faora and weaker at healing than Vivi - with the idea that he can compliment them both without ever overtaking them as he finds his place in the group. Please let me know if you want to talk about it!​
 
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6’1”, 144 lbs, a slender and flexible physique. She has tan skin tinged green by the patches of snake scales on her body. Particularly on her forearms, thighs, back and beneath her eyes. Her face has serpentine features; like depicted above, her eyes are brownish-gold with slits as pupils, her brow more pronounced, no nose bridge, her mouth wide with thin lips, fangs, and a snake's forked tongue. Because of these features, Zenzi covers up her snake skin, wears goggles, and sometimes a mask (also seen in pic).

"Maydanoz olma.”
(Don’t be a parsley.)

Zenzi Soydan
Age: 84
Race: Yilani (Subspecies: engreck)
Class: Scavenger

Personality & Background:
Zenzi primarily hails from Pan, an industrial city located in western Lida, but she was born as a gypsy. A caravan of Magicals banded together and roamed across Luzvimin and west Lida, performing entertainment with their magics and bringing a myriad of skills from smiths to inventors, jewelers to fortune tellers, tailors, tinkers, hunters, etc. They are a close-knit people with large families; hardworking yet surprisingly easy-going. Anyone can join the caravan, no matter the race, as long as they contribute to the caravan's survival and never endangered them. Zenzi was the middle child among a dozen siblings, two "second" mothers, aunts and uncles and countless cousins. She was often forgotten, or ignored, and coupled with her tendency to wander off it was inevitable she would get lost in a city one day and left behind by the gypsies.

Which was exactly what happened, in Pan.

The gypsies have a code of once they are on the road, they don't turn back, as they must constantly move lest animosity against the Magicals should bring danger. Zenzi knew this, and recognized it could be years before they would return. Independent and resourceful, Zenzi managed to keep alive on the streets before being found by a fire-mage tinker who wanted someone to find materials he needed. From there, she excelled, learning a little about her own magic and fighting, but making connections to mages, scholars, inventors and independent businesses who needed specific items and willing to pay for her services. She saved her money until she could begin traveling, and has become a wandering scavenger, taking the odd jobs, and keeping an open ear for news on her long-lost family.

Abilities:

  • Trapping: As a scavenger, Zenzi often is on the road and has become apt at living off the land as she travels. She makes traps for hunting...and protecting her campsite from potential bandits.
  • Stealth: Zenzi can move in utter silence when she wishes, stay hidden, and is a patient stalker.
  • Mid-range combat: Zenzi carries a metal staff as her primary weapon, and is very skilled with it. She is also extremely flexible, thanks to her snake-like attributes, making her hard to pin down during a fight. However, she is more a defensive than an offensive fighter.
  • Light magic: As a Magical, Zenzi was born with the ability to manipulate light. As an engreck, who have eyes sensitive to light, this is a bit of a conundrum. Zenzi’s primary skill with magic is bending light to make something turn invisible (adding to her stealthiness). She can also produce a flash of light meant to blind when she is in danger, but this has the chance of affecting herself and used sparingly, or a simple ball of light when needed.
Extra:
Zenzi is an engreck, which means she is capable of ‘seeing’ heat signatures, like pit vipers. This makes her eyes incredibly sensitive to light generated by heat. She wears goggles specifically designed to filter this ability, protecting her eyes.. She keeps these on during the day, and has grown accustomed to wearing her mask as well, to keep her identity as a Yilani and Magical hidden from humans.
 
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