Fantasy ~ Ⱳƴℓɖ ~ Character pages

[SilverFlight]

Characters
​

Rules


- All RPN rules apply. In the thread and in the OOC.

- All character sheets must follow the guidelines I have set. You can add more, you cannot do less.

- I must accept your character before you can start posting. I reserve the right to refuse your character if I do not believe you have followed the guidelines or if I believe you will not be a good fit for the team.

- Respect all other players, their ideas and their right to a safe space.

- You can use coding, but if I can’t read the CS I won’t accept it.

- I'm really looking for characters who can at least superficially work well in a group. The group dynamic is a key part of this rp.


- This is a detailed thread so one good paragraph at the very least per post.

- Write in full sentences in the thread and in your CS. I will not be accepting point form.

- IC writing is third person past tense for all IC posts please.

• Character sheet guidelines

• 
  Name:
  
  Age:
  
  Race:
  
  Appearance: description, photo or artwork
  
  
  Affiliation: Institute mage or Wyld mage
  
  Track or Wyld gift: What type of magic do you have?
  
  Weaving echo: all mages have a signature to their magic, when weaving with another mage, traces of it can be sensed: a vision, or feeling, a scent or sound. Does your magic have the rigid precise feel of clockwork, or the flowing sensation of water? Perhaps it smells like rain in a garden, or sulfur and smoke?
  
  Extra weapons and items:
  
  Personality:
  
  Character flaws:
  
  Background:
  
  (optional) Three rumours: Make up three rumours people have heard about your character, two are true, and one is a complete fabrication, it can be as ridiculous as you like.
  

• Active players

• TBD

 

[LadyOfStars]

Mitsunari Seikatsu

Age: 27

Species: Kitsune

Affiliation: Academy Mage

Track: Energy/Fire

Weaving Echo: When Weaving, Mitsunari's partner will notice the odor of burning fur. And after the death of the people closest to him his weaving has become rigid due to his reluctance.

Extra Weapons & Items: Mitsunari's Pearl - As a kitsune he possesses a Pearl which is where his soul is housed. Despite the risk of it being stolen and used to control or manipulate him, Mitsunari wears his pearl as a necklace, whereas others of his kind might hide it away.

Spoiler: Pearl

Personality:
As a child destined to be a spy, Mitsunari was taught at an early age how to read people and discern their character, but it wasn't until he would get to the academy that he would hone these skills. Watching people and observing them from afar he would learn how to better read a person or a situation and learn to trust his instincts on both subjects.
Having separated from his clan by defying them, Mitsunari experienced the freedom of choice while at the academy, able to choose his own destiny. All that new freedom went a little to his head as he would go on to set big goals for himself. His drive and passion never waned and its possible the bonds he built sparked him to dream even bigger. His ambitious side is something to admire and really what gets him through the day recently.
After suffering the loss of the two most important people in his life, Mitsunari has become somewhat of a wildcard with many people saying they wouldn't trust him. With his only reason for living now being his dreams and aspirations the kitsune has become a little careless with the mental and physical wellbeing of others.


Character Flaws:

• Stubborn - Perhaps one of his greatest flaws, Mitsunari hates to be told how he must do something or that something can't be done.
• Withdrawn - With no real connection to his biological family and his chosen family now gone, Mitsunari has become quite distant and has few words for others.
• Nightmares - Nothing erases the image of burnt carcasses from your mind, especially when they used to be your family. Mitsunari is plagued by nightmares of his discovery of those bodies in their burnt house.

Backstory:
In the Seikatsu Clan, Druidic magic is tradition, no a must. As a child, Mitsunari was extremely curious about the origins and the secrets of magic. He always asked his elders where it came from, how they controlled it, and while his questioning was laughed at and seen as childish curiosity, it was more. The clan taught their children at an early age that druidic magic and spy work would be their destinies and that the clan must come before all else. As a child Mitsunari couldn't name the feeling he felt for the clan and their ideals, but he would later come to know it was disdain. So much was being asked of them and having seen his older brother grow sick and still commit, Mitsunari knew he didn't want that for himself.

Finally he was sent to the academy where he was expected to learn druidic magic, but instead took to energy. The young kitsune made up his mind right away that the sneaking and lurking of his clan would not gain him the answers he wanted and he didn't want to be just another cog in their machine. This act of defiance angered the clan's elders and forced them to shun and disown Mitsunari. With no outside distractions he devoted himself to his school work, becoming the ideal student. Studying and practicing his magic was giving him the answers that he had sought all those years, but those answers only lead to more questions. So he took to observing other students and analyzing the way that they used their particular magic. He wanted to familiarize himself with the different ways different types of magic behaved.

It wasn't until he met Val, another student in his year, that Mitsunari would look up from his books The two were fast friends as they bonded over their family troubles with Val being sent to the Academy so that he would be out of sight and out of mind. Later they would meet a freshmen who was teased for being an orphan and right away Mitsunari and Val would become the people she leaned on. Together the three of them gained a reputation for being unloved kids, but they always had one another. When his hobby of watching people became and obsession, Val and Cora were the only ones who could snap him out of his trance and bring him to the mess hall. But Mitsunari was certain that he could uncover great secrets of magic through this method and so his obsession would become his life's work when he graduated from the academy.

Together Mitsunari and Val graduated and as everyone expected they moved in with one another. Cora would come to visit during her days off from school until she graduated and officially moved in. Their little family thrived in their lovely home on a hill, but it wasn't meant to last. The fading of magic caused an accident with in the house that saw it consumed by flames. Cora nor Val would be able to escape or put the flames out. Mitsunari would return to a collapsed house and the smoldering remains of his family. wracked with pain and anger he would commit himself even further to understanding magic.

He'd always wanted to explore the Wyldwood, but partners and funding was scarce so when the expedition was announced he felt obligated to accept the invitation to join. He would find out the cause for magic's decline and the reason his loved ones died.

Rumors:

• Spy - Being that he is of Clan Seikatsu, Mitsunari true purpose for joining the Academy and the expedition is to note and keep track of the progression of magic and those that influence.
• Experiments - His interest in the casting and general magic of others has lead Mitsunari to abduct and experiment on other mages, often times forcing them to attempt dangerous types of magic for his study.
• Secrets - Following the death of his loved ones Mitsunari did not invite any of their family to the funeral.

 

[Zazz]

WIP




Name: Almalexia Hawthorn (but everyone calls her by her surname. Barely anyone even knows her first name)

Age: 29

Race: Human

Appearance:


Affiliation: Institute mage

Track: Weather

Weaving echo: As one first comes into contact with it, it feels like a rigid wall of icicles, bared to keep unwanted guests out. But once past her harsh, cold exterior, one is met with the loneliness of a single, gnarled, wyld tree.

Extra weapons and items:

An old amulet made of wood, carved with hawthorn berries, is worn around her neck. It has been passed down through generations as a warning; it is said to host the essence of an ancestor who was corrupted by wyld magic.

Pack of Weightlessness - A leather satchel enchanted to hold whatever fits in it without becoming heavy. As long as the items fit in it, the bag will only ever weigh as much as the empty bag itself. About 5L of space.

A silvery grey cloak, enchanted to withstand wet and cold weather while staying light and dry.

Two journals - one for charcoal drawings, one for notes.

Personality: (Dear gods, Silver, why) Hawthorn generally comes across as calm, cold, and conceited. Raised the way she was, she views others one of two ways: power-seeking, to be bested, or not power-seeking, and stupid. More beastial races are seen as lesser. To her students, she is both to be feared, and potentially their best mentor. The Institute teachers pale at her very presence in their classrooms.

Character flaws: Raised in high society, she is incredibly judgemental and bigoted. While highly skilled, she is too quick to use magic for everything. She is very hard on herself.

Background: Almalexia was born to Gareth and Zolene Hawthorn, and named after her great ancestor, Alma Hawthorn. The women in her family carry their surname down the line. The Hawthorns are a well established clan of powerful mages, well known in the Institute and government for being ruthless and cunning. If you've a trial to be sentenced by Gareth Hawthorn, count your blessings if you live.

Almalexia Hawthorn grew up in the capital, enjoying a life of abundance and strict tutelage from a young age. High expectations, of course. Naturally, she rose through school at the top of her class, and is now Dean of Weather at the Institute, if only to get her hands on the biggest collection of books to further her magical prowess. Her family is now constantly on her case about producing an heir, a role she avoids with much disdain.

Odd Tidbits: Her office is crammed with stacks of books, files, and trinkets. It's chaotic at the best of times.

Three rumours:

1) She once snowed in the entirety of Krowne in class.

2) Her unborn sibling died because of her.

3)

 

[RikuXIII]

Name: Isa Sheerye

Age: 23

Race: Viera

Appearance:

Affiliation: Wyld mage

Wyld gift: Wyld Wood

Spoiler

Wyld Seed; Isa was implanted with a tainted seed from the Wyld Wood, allowing her to call forth tainted wood and spores from herself. The wood is often used to form a protective armor around her, along with using vines and thorns to harm enemies. The spores can be exhaled as a cloud that can cause enemies to choke to death or otherwise poisoned by them. Spore growth can be accelerated in the dead to cause them to rise for a short time as fungal zombies. Beneficial spores can be produced that aid in in a body's natural healing process.

Weaving echo: Isa’s echo leaves behind the smell of damp earth, and a slight sensation of stickiness.

Extra weapons and items:

Personality: Isa is big and bombastic. She loves life and intents to live it to the fullest on her own terms. Despite her life, she has managed to keep hold of an upbeat attitude that survives even in the face of defeat. When not on task, she’ll be looking for the simple pleasures of good food and drink.
Isa’s direct nature tends to make her seem simple. If there is a locked door, her response is to kick it in. She thinks too many people try to over complicate the world with unnecessary limitations. Though not a deep thinker, Isa does have a level of common sense that keeps her from getting in over her head.
While she’ll only admit to wanting allies to help evade her former boss, she deeply wants friends she feels she can actually trust and confide in. She has only had a few true friends and doesn’t know if any of her family remains. She hopes that the skills and gifts she has can be turned to something brighter.

Character flaws:

• Uncomplicated thinker; When presented with a problem, Isa will usually come up with a direct answer to the situation and not bother with a new plan until abject failure.
• Rebellious; Issues with authority stemming from both her childhood and servitude. Don't talk down to her, and she'll be fine.
• Impatient in social matters; Isa doesn't care for much of the way of courtly behavior, so can come off brutish when she pushes aside flowery speech to get to the point.
• Superstitious when it comes to luck.

Background: Isa Sheerye was born on a northern island of Akonis, though she and her pride were displaced by the encroaching Wyld Wood when she was about 8 years old. Despite promises that they would be cared for, the Viera Pride was left in squalor on preserves. The young Isa grew to distrust the hollow promises of those in power, and just wished her people could be left alone to rebuild on their own. She gained a reputation as a delinquent, getting caught a couple of times carving graffiti on anything that look official.
When Isa was 10 years old, she was tested for the Potential and was found capable of magic. While she tried to refuse going to the academy, her parents overruled her, seeing this as her opportunity for a better life. An unwilling and bitter Isa was put on a boat for the academy, but never arrived. Officially, the boat was hit with storms and lost some of it's crew and passengers. Then the files on those lost were stealthily destroyed to ensure anyone coming to look for them had nothing to go on.
While she at first had no idea what was going on, it became apparent to Isa that something had gone wrong. She was told she was a special case, thus would be placed under the personal tutelage of Lady Ozaira, an elvish noble and legendary mage. Lady Ozaira was curious about the Wyld Wood and it's magic. Wanting to learn how to tame it, she stole Isa away, hoping that one born in close proximity to the wood would have some talent and resistances to it. For the next few years, Isa was put through a grueling program where she was taught Wyld Magic, an early connection to the tainted flora and fauna developed. While she was proving powerful, Lady Ozaira was certain she could get more out of her "protegee". A strange corrupted seed was found and brought from the Wyld Wood by Lady Ozaira's, which was surgically implanted into Isa. This allowed her to generate tainted wood and fungi from her own body. It was painful to use, but her body adapted and appeared to be stable.
Like student's of the actual Academy, Isa's main training ended when she reached 18 years of age. With her power and body honed, Lady Ozaira wanted to continue her test of Wyld Magic in more settings. Isa was forced to become her Ladyship's personal enforcer and assassin. Her obedience was enforced through magical shackles and an elixir that was suppose to keep the seed from growing more. For the next 5 years, Isa killed for Lady Ozaira, her only real comfort was when she brought a dead squirrel back from the dead by infusing it with her power. That day, her friend Skedar was born.
After one particularly grueling mission, Isa decided she had enough. She would risk going without the elixir just to be freed from this damned existence. With some preparation, she made her break on a mission to kill a political rival of her Ladyship. Using Skedar's claws and magical blows from the guards, Isa was able to break her shackles and disappeared into the night. She has been on the run for a month now. Pains in her chest make her worry that the elixir wasn't just for show. She hopes to find a way north to her pride's old lands. Maybe there she can find freedom and a cure to her current afflictions.

Three rumours:

• Is suspected to be involved in the murder of a up and coming institute official looking to battle political corruption.
• Has a lovely singing voice, but is self conscious about it.
• Knows where a buried chest of ill-gotten gains is.

Familiar: Skedar

Spoiler

Wyld magic tainted squirrel missing a tail and has prosthetic claws instead of a right front paw.

 

[SilverFlight]

Artist: Luisa Preissler

Name: Kaernavella “Vella” or “Vells” Muir

Age: 33

Race: Human

Affiliation: Institute mage

Track: Blood magic

Weaving echo: Vells’ echo sounds like the beating of wings, the rush of soft feathers on skin and the scent of feather dust in the sun.

Extra weapons and items: Vells’ carries a dueling saber, and she knows how to use it. Fencing was part of her clan’s heritage, and the art of drawing blood is a useful aid to her magic.

• Personality
• Background

• 
  Many people would remember Vells fondly: she was bright, and passionate in most everything she did. With a keen mind and a spark of hope, even in the gloomy light of dying magic. Vells was sure she would be the one to fix it. With Devanya at her side, she thought she was invincible.
  
  The council members remember her temper, and her humour. Vells’ indominable spirit inspired even the most jaded of mages. She was one of the few students sent on expeditions to quell the wyld wood, augmenting ‘Vanya’s energy magic, she was as good at playing support as she was leading the charge.
  After she lost Vanya however, Vells changed. Losing Vanya broke her.
  
  Now she is one of the most severe teachers in the academy; dour and cantankerous, quick with a biting remark and no patience for fools. She does have patience for students however, and surprisingly is a very good teacher despite her reputation. She still cares, though she would rather not.
  
  Earning her respect is done by standing on your own two feet, and making sure your own mistakes don’t cost anyone else. Time had tempered her grief into something hard, but warm words tend to reach beneath the shields, and she acknowledges earnest effort.
  
  Genuine expression softens her, and someone being true to their feelings, whatever those feelings are. Vells does have a sense of humour, hidden under all that grump, and she does enjoy using it from time to time.
  
  Overall Vells’ is a crabby veteran, and has gotten a little too comfortable with this persona. Deep down there is still some of that passion left, and a fragment of hope that one day, the magic will be saved.
  
  Character flaws:
  
  Overly harsh: Vells’ does not mince words and will tell you precisely what she thinks of you. When a soft hand is needed, Vells may have to make a mistake first before she realizes what she should have done.
  
  Risk-adverse: Since losing Vanya Vells has clung to the book of protocols. She will fight any deviation from normal procedure and fight anyone who speaks against it.
  
  Temper: Vells usually keeps her temper in check, but her passion often gets the better of her, especially outside of a classroom setting, when dealing with her equals. When that happens, her words become like daggers, prepped to cut quickly and without mercy.
  
  
• 
  Vella’s story began much like any other in Krowne: a young mage born to a prominent family with members in the council and the academy. Everyone expected little Vella to gravitate to the energy track, and it surprised them all when she chose blood magic. Vella was well-known and well-liked in her won circle of friends, when she chose blood magic however, that changed. The stigma attached to her track followed her like a shadow, earning her whispers and fearful glances. Vella knew all too well the dark things that could be accomplished with blood magic, but its capacity for healing was what drew her.
  It drew Vanya too, who became enamoured with Vella’s passion for her craft. Vanya was not half the mage Vella was, so she helped her. The pair became inseparable friends, and as the years passed at the academy, everyone could see their bond growing into something more.
  
  Vanya and Vella swiftly became an unstoppable team. They were unmatched in Weaving class, and were so adept and working with each other’s magic, the final year before graduation they were sent to the Wyld front lines to help the mages there. The Wyld proved a fearful opponent, but they were able to withstand the feared corruption and helped push the wood back, saving a village that had almost been swallowed. It was there, in the smoke and dust, in the aftermath of battle, Vella found her obsession.
  She would stop the wood, together with Vanya, there was nothing the pair couldn’t do. Vanya was less sure, but because she loved Vella, she agreed.
  
  They began researching how best to weave their magic into the spell that could burn away the wood. Blood magic may not have the power of fire, but it was powerful in a different way. Vella spent long, sleepless nights working on improving the restoration spell, making more potent, more damaging, requiring a Weaving bond that she knew she had with Vanya.
  
  They both became teachers at the academy and for a time, they were happy…and then, Vella finished the spell. She went with Vanya to the Wyld Wood the next day, her heart filled with hope, blinded by the power she knew they could summon. On the cusp of the start, Vanya looked at the wood, and begged Vella to reconsider. With the magic dying and unstable, and the sheer amount of power they would need to draw on, it would be too dangerous to try. Vella would not be swayed, and with reluctance, Vanya followed her into the spell.
  
  At first, it went well, the forest began to recede, branches creaking and coiling, some catching fire and burning, writhing as they did as if they were limbs and the forest was a breathing creature. Suddenly there was a backlash. The magic faltered, jarred their control. The spell slipped from Vella’s will, her blood magic turned itself on anything in the vicinity. It sprawled out, corrupting all in its path. The village they had saved the time before was now about to be destroyed by the out of control magic. Vanya stepped inside of it, offered her life as a sacrifice to channel the spell and end it. Vella watched this happen, but the thing she remembers most clearly, the thing that was burned into her mind that day, was Vanya’s look of desperate betrayal. She had warned Vella, begged her not to do this. Vanya died, and Vella watched, knowing she had given up the one thing could not bear losing.
  
  Vella returned to Krowne, a failure. The village was swallowed within moments, leaving hundreds homeless, and only alive by grace of Vanya’s blood. Vella refused to let anyone call her "Vella" again, choosing Vells instead, or her surname. Vells never went out to the wood again, and spent her next three years teaching and hating herself every moment.
  
  Three rumours:

 

[Arai]

Wyld Mage

Thys Tomonar

• xxxBASIC INFORMATIONxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx
• xxxBACKSTORYxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx
• xxxABILITIESxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx
• xxxEXTRA NOTESxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

• “

  ”

  Not much gets by me these days...

  Name

  Thys Tomonar

  Race

  Human

  Affiliation

  Wyld Mage (Dreamwalker)

  Age

  32

  Weaving Echo

  Thys' echo presents as a sense of vertigo and impossible vastness, making one dizzy. If one can overcome the sensation, ity transistions into a feeling of being watched by an unknown entity.

  Appearance

  Well worn leathers and trinkets that evoke the Oracle Track, Thys looks like a man who prefers to go unnoticed, wrapped in rough cloth and beads. His long hair and shaggy clothes hide an intelligence and apathy.

  Personality

  Those who have known Thys for long enough would decrbe him like a good bartender. Door always open, ear always ready to listen. Between his talents and his attitude, most come away from an encounter with him feeling better, regardless of the circumstance of the conversation. Rather pragmatic and straightforward, Thys is often the peacemaker of any situation as required, though seems to act on intuition rather than analysis. A naturally gifted communicator, Thys is very good at remaining composed, no matter the situation. Despite an initial concern and fear for his powers, Thys has a gratitude for his source of magic, and feels bound to prove that Wyld magic can be controlled, or at least managed. He has a deep passion and love for Wyld Magic and it’s mages, believing it to be simply a transformation in the way magic works, rather than a corruption.
  

  Personal Flaws

  Prideful

  Thys has no qualms about using his magic, despite it's branding as illegal and the ethical concerns of poking around another's mind.
  
  

  Obsessed

  Thys has used Wyld magic for some time without retribution, and is obsessed with discovering a way of harmonizing it with true magic, that he would jepeordise his orders if it helped with his goal.
  
  

  Rebellious

  Thys has operated outside of the laws of Krowne and it's mages for so long, he has no trouble deviating from their laws when required.
• Backstory

  Contrary to the bulk of his classmates, Thys was not born into a powerful family, or tutored from a young age to join the academy, or applied on one of the academy’s many interview days for those further than Krowne. Thys was found by the Dean of Oracles at the time, and recognised Thys’ natural aptitude for the school. The Dean was on a trip to the small village of Copper Peaks, seeking new materials for apparatus and had felt a pull to the specific village for his materials. Upon realising Thys’ aptitude, the Dean invited him to move to the capital to study among peers. His parents quickly gave their blessing for his moving to the capital, though Thys did not think this strange at the time.
  
  Already stamped for the Oracle track, Thys studied and grew in his school life, making friends and learning more about both magic and the kind of mage he wanted to be. He aspired to use his foresight and divination to predict who needed help before catastrophes occurred, that the resources of the mages could be better directed. He was on track to achieve this goal up until the age of 16. Shortly after his birthday, to his surprise, his magic left him. Everything he had learnt and studied, while he could perform the actions, recite the incantations, the natural aptitude was gone.
  
  This wasn’t an uncommon occurrence in the academy, sometimes prospective students talents simply fizzled out. Those who had no aptitude for magic any longer were politely escorted from the academy, given a month or 2 to get their affairs in order before they would be told to make their own way in the world. Thys couldn’t even bear to wait that long, sick of the long looks and pity comments.
  
  With no other plans and desperate to leave, Thys made his exit from the majesty of Krowne quickly, returning back to his old village. It was here he realised it wasn’t just his magic that he had lost, but his home. In the years he had been away, the Wyld Wood had encroached and overran his home, something his parents had perhaps realised when they sent him away. As he slept that night, unsure of what to do, he felt himself unwillingly transformed.
  
  Whether he could say the destruction of his home was the catalyst of this change, or the very environment he grew up in had an effect on his natural magic, Thys gave up on searching for the answer years ago. What he knows is that when he awoke, his magic had been replaced by that of a Dreamwalker. Familiar, but different all the same. He could feel the fears of those he walked by, their desires, hopes, doubts. And, he found he could manipulate their senses with the right amount of push to feel those emotions themselves.
  
  These days, Thys works within Krowne as a Weaving Tutor, his natural talents of knowing a person before they know him making him an easy target to pair with. Outside of his days though, he spends his nights in libraries and the streets, seeking information from other hidden wyld mages about both their abilities and their thoughts on the spread of the Wyld Wood. Most people think him harmless, but if that is because he directs them to feel that way, who is to say.
  

  Relationships

  Dean Almalexia Hawthorn

  A couple years her senior, Thys has only met the Dean of Weather on occasion. The Dean is aware he is a private tutor for Weaving, and may have sent a student or 2 his way.
  
  

  Mistress Vells Muir

  In his time at the academy, Thys considered Vella a close friend, up until his leaving. The two didn't fall out, but the friendship has dwindled with time and distance. He doesn't know why she prefers to go by Vells now (or why there is a huge stick up her ass) but is aware she teaches in the academy.
  
• Extra Weapons and Items

  Oracle Track Charms

  Lots of merchants sell items and necklaces said to allow for minor feats in dreammastery or divination. Thys keeps several he knows have some minor magical properties.
  
  

  Hand Crossbow

  You don't go looking for trouble in the cities underbelly every night without knowing how to protect yourself. Thys' crossbow is mounted to his wrist, easily concealed.
  
  
• Rumours

  
  Thys doesn't require sleep (Kind of true. Thys needs to rest his body, but cannot willingly rest his mind, instead hopping from dream to dream.
  
  Thys' magic is just the remnants of his Oracle track training (False, though he tries to make it look as similar as he can)
  
  Thys can read your mind (False, Thys is what he calls a Tele-empath. He can read emotions and feelings, but not thoughts. He can project them back as well)
  

  Writing Sample

  Thys opened his eyes, and with it, closed the Weaving between himself and the young mage sat across him. Harriet, her name was? Or Wren maybe, he struggled to keep those he'd taught straight in his head. Her echo was one of the more pleasant, a forceful yet relaxing river, winding it's way through a thick forest. But when he opened his eyes, the two of them were back in his modest office, the smell of roasted coffee beans and 2 unfinished pastries from the bakery shop downstairs. The woman there harbored a crush on him, and Thys was not above using said knowledge to flirt for free food. And her dreams made for good evening entertainment - big hot baps indeed.
  
  WrenOrHarriet looked quite releived, and quick poke around revealed to Thys that she had afraid of doing poorly on her Weaving exam next month. "That wasn't too bad for a first session," He started, the girls' shoulders relaxing out of the tense and high strung position they had been locked in when she walked in 2 hours ago. "I think you have the talent, you just needed to know what to expect going into it. It's different for everyone, but for most it's just a case of opening up and listening," He tried to emphasise the listening part to her. The girl's passion and drive would've rolled right over and flattened anyone else trying to connect to her, but someone who could anticipate it could simply get out of the way. He'd felt all of her high strung energy and fear of failure when she came in. There was a lot of shouting in her weave, not a lot of listening. But he'd handled worse. "Couple more sessions and you should have no trouble, just need to get a feel for the give and take. Come by this weekend and we'll try again," A couple more thank yous. An exchange of gold. A reminder to pick up her scone. The girl was out of the door in 5 minutes and Thys was alone again.
  
  Glancing out of his window to ensure no one was coming in (His next appointment wasn't for another hour), he opened a lock drawer at his desk, producing the key from his jacket pocket, and flipped through his newest journal, idly skipping past notes on Wyldfyre and a list of nearby transformation mages, settling on a page of tallies, and added a line to a column marked "Negative". The Negative column had about twice as many marks as it's siblings, "Positive" and "Neutral", written below a title that read Wyld Magic Public Opinion. Part of his questionaire getting to know his students always asked their thoughts on Wyld magic, and those thoughts, whether scaremongered by thier tutors or concoted amongst themselves, were mainly of concern, anger and fear. "Dissapointing," he thought.
  
  A clatter at his door startled him, and he quickly put the book back in the drawer, glancing up to catch a letter fluttering to the floor. It wasn't his buxom lady friend downstairs, she tended to telegraph her desires so loudly it was hard not to hear them. Whoever had sent the letter had taken measurements against his talents, which narrowed down his suspect list considerably to a few likeminded mages. He grabbed the letter, adressed to him with all the pomp and circumstance the High mages possessed, summoning him for a matter most urgent concerning the Wyld Wood. Curious, if nothing else. He gathered his jacket and journal, stuffing them roughly into his pockets before looking at the shortsword in his umbrella stand for a moment. Sighing, he grabbed the blade and sheathe and strapped it to his belt, making his way out the door in the direction of the Academy. Baps would have to wait.
  

code by Nano

 

[thinking]

​

art, anyaboz, room guardian.
Name:Lata Ramos

Age: Physically, 20 years old. With the mental development of someone in an older generation. Her extended life is a gift.

Race: Beast; a sapient bipedal skunk.

Gender: Female.

Affiliation: Institute mage.

Track: Nature magic.

Description: Those devilish eyes glow with defiance, a human-like disposition lathering in wit and intelligence yet at the same time, they are beady and animalistic. Lata’s height is around 3 foot, a stature not dissimilar to that of a gnome yet she seems more elongated and not as compact. Her beastly appearance is reminiscent of a skunk yet the stark white patterning against her smokey fur is unique; it’s own perpetual design. Her tail is medium length (just about reaches the floor from where she stands) and the strands of hair are more bristly, almost straw like. Compared to the short, velvety fur of her body the dampened shades of black, white and grey are dull rather than glossy.

There is a small scar on the right hand side of her face, under her eye. This is a seemingly cursed branding spelling one word: R-A-M-O-S.

Weaving echo: Weaving will induce an aroma similar to the heady scent of smokeleaf. A strong odour that engulfs the senses, bitter on the tongue, slightly intoxicating yet very addictive.

---

Extra weapons and items:- A pair of gloves- that’ll only fit who it was tailored for, in this case, Lata- that accentuates her claws with steel tip points. This is her primary weapon of self defence.
-A satchel- containing useless stolen goods, including items such as sewing needles, pieces of beading and rarely little silver coins. It also is what holds her bouquet of odd fragrances..
-a [what seems to be] bouquet garni- of multiple dried herbs, fragrances and a bunch of pine needles. It keeps her grounded, mentally and holds undisclosed sentimental value.

Personality:Her ability to glide through conversation with utmost perception is extraordinary for a beast so primitively put together. Her intellect is outstanding and to actually be able to understand the concept of magic is seemingly otherworldly. Lata possesses an adaptable psyche with a strange gift of manipulating conversation to go her way though still, she keeps an amiable demeanour.
She lathers in curiosity, always eager to learn and study in her field of magic. Her inquisitive nature may cause some negativity; probing the wrong people makes her judged as somewhat annoying…. Once something is on her mind she must complete the desire, making her quite the headstrong character. She may dwell on unfavourable experiences; she is fair but unforgiving. Lata can be perceived as absentminded and inattentive; quite distracted and preoccupied. However in reality she is grappling with an abundance of thought, multitasking that with a conversation is a great feat.

Despite being a younger graduate of the Institute, Lata is far more competent than she looks. Her perception of Earth magic is an understanding the finest of mages lack. Whether this is because she was once an offspring of most primitive earth itself?

As a side interest, Lata is very knowledgeable in the culinary field, she has been granted an outstanding chef by peers. She can switch the most simple ingredients into exotic, tantalising dishes.

Character flaws: -Unpredictable nature and exaggerated emotions- despite her intelligence, she still may exhibit some beastly qualities such as aggressive and irrepressible instinct.
- Earnest student- She is keenly dedicated to studying that the devout commitment to it may cost friendship. Those who understand her seriousness will respect her.
-Judged by stereotype- her original form was that of a wild skunk so she shares the same features as the creature. Though predominantly she is more humanoid; with more human-like pronounced features, Lata still shares the same abilities with the beast she once was. This unfortunately allows her to be judged by other mages and beings for her inferior life form as well as the avoidance of her company by many.

Background: The corrupt practice of meddling with species has been frowned upon for millenia yet still, it continues. The subjects used in this crime were almost always lower level lifeforms like animals and other non-sapient creatures. These beings would be magically contorted, making them unnatural products of human ignorance… Mutants by design, serving no purpose but to exuberate blasphemy. These experiments usually succumbed to hysteria before being able to produce legible interaction. Most were discarded; reduced to nothing more than pelts for black market or as accessories and even food for poverty stricken communities. This activity was what produced the sapient skunk now known as Lata Ramos.

Known as the Master, this crazed wizard’s motive for such crude animal experimentation was simple; because he could. The reason the Master was able to create her so faultlessly, was due to his perverse relationship with nature. He denied nature much respect but he was so passionate about change. He channelled this chaos to contort the natural order of life itself.

The first memory that she could really recall was meeting his eyes. Those vituperative eyes, full of gloat; relishing in such illegal exploitation. The second thing was this strange pain, the rapid growth she’d experienced was dull, that didn’t hurt; it was the pain of the most foreign rage. Such emotion was so intense it was on the verge of explosion but something in the back of all that confusion told her to keep silent. Patience was not easy for a creature so used to impulse… To go from a simple life with limited emotion to suddenly experiencing the most unimaginable pain was a conflict. For two weeks she managed to stay malleable, following complex orders without hesitation. Even when the repetitive tasks grew tedious, she patiently followed, listening and absorbing as much information as she could. But ebbing away at her heart was that rage again. Her streak of perfection was an outstanding breakthrough- she was never set out to be such a success, the only thing faltering her was the aggressive palpating of this fury. This self proclaimed Master was not at all masterful. He was too corrupt with blasphemy to realise what he was meddling with was dangerous. The Master attempted to contract Wyld magic for controlling the beasts, accidentally summoning his own Hell before he could even reach the Wyld magic.
After the Master’s demise, there was much debate on what to do with his creations, almost all were selflessly euthanised; their suffering was a cruel existence and it was inhumane to keep them alive. All except Lata, who managed to escape without a trace.

*​

The Lo’ark’r Clan of Forest Gnomes do not settle. Their home is seasonal and wandering; travelling through an ancient path across the many forests of their Akonis [currently unnamed] island. This instinct is primal, as if a bird on a migration; they follow a laid out path despite dangers ahead. The people are shy and conservative; rarely contacting or accepting of other races or creatures despite the ability to converse with animals (usually due to taking druidic magic).

She was adopted by an affluent forest-gnome household after three months on the loose. This is where she was taught manners and discipline: her wild nature partially tamed. Here she was named, Lata, meaning Creeping Vine in ancient script.

Lata’s keenness for magic grew by the day and so it was decided she would be a destined harvester of natural, Earth magic. She sought solitude in the idea of studying at the Institute and could only dream of becoming welcomed in such a prestigious academy. After effort and proof of wellness she was accepted into the Institution. It brought mixed reception to the forest gnomes, being such a private group of people, they were unsure whether or not it would work in their favour. The authority of this community, Lo’ark’r Laming IV, gave her the task to bring prosperity to the dying race as symptoms of Wyld Wood were encroaching on their predetermined path. They were foolish to not deter their path. It was decided for the best, for Lata to leave the sanctuary of the Lo’ark’r clan’s embrace.
She was given a bundle of herbs. If she ever needed to find them, then snap one of the leaves.

After completing the courses at the Institute yet still an apprentice mage, Lata found herself unable to contact the Lo’ark’r tribe. Even attempts to contact them through their bouquet of pine and herbs did not avail. (Still a work in progress. I need to develop her more in writing. I must admit, backstories are my weakest).

The three rumours:
She murdered her creator. x This is untrue. Greed buried him under eternal agony.
The scent of her defense lingers in the nostrils for a year. ✓ This is true; those with a sense of smell and respiratory system will succumb to great discomfort.
The reason why she is sapient is due to a crazed wizard. ✓ the taboo of her existence. She should not exist.

 

[RikuXIII]

SilverFlight Isa ready to go. I've gone a little experimental with her magic. I hope it works with what you have built up.

 

[Eccentric_Undead]

Name:
Avanok the Necromonger

Age:
25

Race:
Giant Reaper Owl

Appearance:

(Art by L-I-J)

Affiliation: Institute Mage

Track: Necromancy

Weaving Echo:
The Mage weaving with Avanok will sense a great chill. Silhouettes with glowing eyes of people long dead will surround them, but it won't be a fearful type. Oddly enough, his cold nightmare will feel almost inviting. As if calling you towards it. Sort of like the souls on the other side are calling to you with everything they have. Of course, this is only a trick. The dead often want to lure the living towards them, but only to gain what they no longer have. Life. Cold, dark and haunting. Such is the echo of his power.

Extra weapons and items:
None

Personality:
Thoughtful and logical. Every move is thought out three steps ahead. Inquisitive, Avanok never let something that interests him go without study. He is intelligent, wise and cautious. He doesn't like to go into anything without a few backup plans. Mostly because he finds himself baffled by humans or any other sentient race. He finds them confusing. All of them seem to be so lost in contradictions. Emotions run most of their thought process rather than logic. It's something he could never quite get the hang of.

This however translates well into his work. When on a mission or when he has a goal, there is nothing that will get him off of it. He is partially obsessive, knowing when to stop, but the problem is getting himself to stop. Unyielding in his desire to finish his tasks, making him seem a bit cold and distant from others. He has been described as emotionless and callous, but he feels emotions deeper than anyone could ever understand. So much so that he does not know how to deal with them. In order to cope with his massive feelings, he dived into a world of logic at a young age. He is willing to do anything to avoid emotions, labeling them as just another way logic is impaired.

Character flaws:
Overly Cautious - While caution is usually a welcome trait, Avanok takes this to a different level. He would happily spend his time creating backup plans and contingencies for every possible outcome that could come from any given situation. This can be a debilitating flaw, depending on how obsessed he gets with it.

Perfectionist - He isn't a perfectionist in every aspect of his life. Rather, it's only on a few certain things or whatever catches his eye at that moment in time. This could happen at any time, with anything that he may see or hear. He cannot control it, though he has tried.

Ruthlessly Efficient - If it is for the completion of a goal or a mission, he will not hesitate to do anything. He believes in following through, no matter the cost or expense. If he tells you he's going to do something, he will do it. No matter what it might cost. If taking a life is what is needed, he will do it.

Communication - He find other people to be baffling. Talk of emotion and other things like that simply confuse him as he has so deluded himself. As such, this has led him to speak in such a way that he understands, but he has a nasty habit of cutting out details that everybody else might not know. This leads to confusion on both ends and forces him to waste time to explain it. It's something he hates to do.

Background:
It was but a single moment. One moment when he could finally see with clear eyes. His species had always been smart for animals, but this was different. It was the winter of his 10th year. He can't remember much before then, but he remembered this moment distinctly. Perched on one of the large trees that could hold his massive body. He opened his eyes after shaking his head for a moment, seeing the world in a new light as he gained sentience, the likes of which his species had probably never even thought about. He became self-aware, aware of his own mortality and became capable of speech, though he would not use that for a long while. It was as if he was seeing this Forest he had grown up in for the first time. Aware of his place within it. Something he had never thought about before. It was a slew of new experiences and thought. Things that would have never crossed his mind before he had awoken. The certainty of death, his place in the world and philosophy he had never comprehended before. Much like a child, he indulged these thoughts and curiosities at a whim. Experiencing the full spectrum of emotions as it came. Joy when he played with his food. Rage when his favorite tree died. Peace when he looked at the sunset from the tallest perch he could find. He could experience the Ecstasy and beauty of the world, but unfortunately, he could also experience the tragedy and sorrow.

The first experience this when he came across his first town since his Awakening. He flew down and landed on a home. Just to watch people walk through the thoroughfare. He was met with fear, dread and a whole host of attacking. As he fled away from the townsfolk hurling stones in pitchforks at him, he experienced fear for the first time. As he landed back at the entrance to his den, soon a worse emotion surfaced. Loneliness. He had never felt this before. Never felt the need to have company. It was confusing. Why did he want somebody around? Why did it hurt so much? It was something he simply couldn't understand. After a moment of sulking, he's turned his head to see the lifeless carcass of a deer he had killed not hours before. Something was drawing him in. He didn't know where this emotion came from or where this thought manifested in his body, but he was certain he could bring it back to life. Maybe then he would have a companion. Stepping over, he used his massive talons to lift the carcass, inspecting it for a moment before the first Rush of that cold feeling took over his body. It came naturally to him. He just knew how to use his magic. The carcass jerked to life, stumbling to find its undead footing.

Avanok looked at the zombie, circling and taking in the work. He knew it was unlike anything else. Odd and unique. Kind of chilling if he were to be honest, but all the same, it was something to fill that loneliness.

As it turned out, a local advisor from the magic institute was doing some research in Avanok's home forest. This man witnessed the massive owls Necromancy and, after a small bit of bemused conversation, cautiously recommended the owl try studying at some school. Avanok was confused. School? Study? It was all foreign to him. However, he was open to it. He left with the man and joined the institute where he not only gained knowledge of Necromancy, but learned to speak, read and many other basic skills. Now, after graduating, he simply works and tries to further his knowledge, trying to fill a void he doesn't understand.

Three rumours:
True - Avanok has a stock pile of corpses, always at the ready just in case he needs them.

True - Avanok, at least at one point, preyed upon humans and basically anyone he could. This includes all other sentient races that crossed his path. It's unclear if he still does this, but he definitely has.

False - Avanok is the embodiment of death. There are a few scattered, backwater towns that have legends of the Death Owl. The guide and omen of death. (There are towns that have legends about him, but he is not the embodiment of death)

Theme Song:

 

[Goonfire]

​

Name: Hew Thalassan
Age: 23
Race: Mixed-breed Elf
Appearance:
The pallid, almost grayish color of Hew's skin and his blue-green eyes are the first sign of his mixed elven heritage. Frustratingly, he stands just half an inch short of six feet tall when barefoot. He dons a chain shirt between layers of teal fabric accented with black obsidian beads.

Affiliation: Institute Mage
Track: Necromancy

Weaving echo:
Hew's echo sends a chill up one's spine as their peripheral vision darkens and indecipherable whispers echo in their mind under the cold glare of a full moon. It is an uncomfortable sensation overall, which makes many hesitant to weave with him.

Extra weapons and items:

• Poignard - An elven dagger with a graceful, tapering blade.
• Mace - A simple bludgeon, helpful versus skeletons, on the off chance something turns them against him.

Personality:
Hew is a man of many secrets. Quiet and observant, he finds it better to listen than to talk a lot. It is common to find him taking notes and silently plotting ahead based on the information he receives. Though most consider him unsavory or aloof, his quiet nature also makes him a great choice of company when one simply needs to vent. He is responsible and discreet, not repeating anything said unless the other party requests otherwise. He doesn't value unfounded opinions and hunches much, instead preferring to lay out the facts and come to a logical conclusion when determining the best course of action.

Though he has no idea why, Hew tends to clam up when asked to speak about himself in-depth or present before more than a handful of people. He is fairly courageous and willing to tackle almost any task, though he downplays his own role in any case. He always returns favors, but dislikes it when one abuses this fact to get more than what they are owed. It is a 1:1 trade with him, with few exceptions. It is a sign he cares for someone when he gives more than he receives, in addition to being slightly more talkative.

A few of the misconceptions surrounding necromancy irritate Hew. He does not defile graves, and the labor his undead do is essential; few actually volunteer to do the work in an undead worker's place. He disapproves of those who bash the pursuit of knowledge and his track.

Character flaws:

• Cynical - Hew doesn't expect gifts or any kind acts. When someone is generous, he often wonders what's in it for them; it is always a trade, never free.
• Absent-minded - He remembers facts pertaining to his hobbies and just about everything from his studies, but will forget small things, like clothes on the line, food over the fire, or even a new acquaintance's name.
• Private - It takes much prying and snooping to find out more about Hew. He tends to not divulge much about himself, making it difficult to form a deep bond with him initially.

Background:

Spoiler: Before Krowne

The island of Spirethir is known for two things: its scenic beauty and its inhabitants, the elves. Here, high elves and wood elves are the surface dwellers, governing the mountains and forests, respectively. Their skin is often radiant and smooth, their hair ranging from golden blonde to chestnut brown. They frequently feud with their "cousins", the gray-skinned, white-haired drow or "dark elves"—inhabitants of the caverns deep below the surface. Due to their typical defiant nature and penchant for poisons, ambush tactics, and privacy, drow are often seen as rebels, criminals, and heretics. They often furiously debate the ownership of the caverns under elven cities and find themselves in subterranean skirmishes almost yearly.

Hew Aykin was the product of a taboo meeting between a wood elf woman and a drow man. Half-breeds often carried a great social stigma, and the pale Hew was no exception. One side saw too much of the other in him for their liking. One day, while playing alone in the woods, Hew discovered a scroll that contained forbidden knowledge. He found too late that prudent silence was wise, and it earned him severe punishment. It was an elven religious practice to let their gods determine his fate, as the blood of a heretic would curse the soil on which it was spilled. Rather than execute or even flog him, he was given to a secret committee of elven pariahs, who sealed his memories and sent him out to sea on a raft with nothing but the clothes on his back. If the gods were gracious and carried him ashore, he would have no memory of his own offense and had the opportunity to start a better life. If he died at sea, the harshest judgment was cast and the world was a better place.

It was a rainy day across the archipelago when a strange raft washed ashore. By some miracle, the rough sea had not claimed the raft or its contents—a pale elven boy of about 11. He was bound by his wrists to the mast and suffered from hypothermia. The fishermen brought him to a clinic so the abrasions on his wrists could br treated and he could warm up. The healers thought he was an amnesiac; all he knew was his first name: Hew. Other elves who learned about him and his arrival also called him a Thalassan, also known as an oceanborn.

The wild-haired half-breed had to re-learn many basic skills, such as reading and writing, but he also exhibited signs of magical aptitude. All his learning needs were rolled up into one education, thanks to tutors and his peers. He proved exceptional, but his track was easily one of the most frowned-upon: necromancy. He also worked hard to earn extra coin, controlling multiple skeletons that performed manual labor. Though he proved excellent at commanding the undead, his specialty was speaking to the dead. In one of his finest moments, Hew masterfully probed a handful of murder victims for details about their killer. In this memorable moment, he said, "The victim is always the best witness." The information he gleaned led to the arrest and execution of a vicious serial killer. Of course, the only payment Hew accepted was the murderer's corpse. The deed garnered much attention from other Institute necromancers.

Last year, one of Hew's most influential teachers died. With his studies reaching their peak, Hew thought a lot about his own mortality, so he had an official contract drafted and signed. In it, he agreed to donate his body to the Institute for necromantic studies in the event of his death. Who could say what the future held, exactly?

Three Rumours:

• The secret to Hew's success is the skull of a deceased necromancy professor, which he keeps in his room and regularly asks for advice using his magic.
• He seeks the secret of lichdom—a fabled and forbidden transformation described in elven legends.
• Hew practices ballroom dancing with skeletons in private.

 

[joshuadim]

MAKE WAY FOR YOUR KING!

​

---

Name: Jirin

Age: 43

Race: Symyan

Affiliation: Wyld Mage

Wyld Gift: Transformation

Weaving Echo:
His eminence's echo leaves a sensational taste of fresh peaches and the finest rice wine, a meal fit for a ruler so esteemed as him to enjoy on any given day; away from the worries and concerns of the world at large.

His Majesty's Trustworthy Battle Companion:
A staff made of wood and reinforced with copper and iron, jirin's companion piece plays in tangent with his wyld gift as he often changes the very properties of the weapon to suit his needs - from length to density and much more.

The Towering Personality of His Excellency:
Haughty as he is magnanimous. Beastly as he is civilized. And genuine as he is a trickster. Jirin, the self proclaimed "Monkey King", is a amalgam of contradictions that creates an image of grandeur to some and pesterence to others. He can be clever and - to an extent - wise, but also lazy and aloof as he prefers to take the easy way out of whatever situation he might be in. And for those among the institutional mages, he is also a nuisance that flagrantly breaks their customs and laws to spread a bit of fun where it is sorely needed outside his own little realm. After all, how boring is the world if his eminence isn't there to liven up the party?

Character Flaws Fun Facts:
-Arrogant, as the great trickster thinks highly of himself with a self proclaimed monarchy at his disposal. The other monkeys of his "fiefdom" go along with it so as to not draw his complaints.

-Unaware, as the lord of Symyans often ignores decorum and standards sometimes without realizing it - leading to potentially insulting others without intending to do so.

-Decadent, as his wondrous presence indulges in excesses of various kinds: mostly good drink and food. He wouldn't say no to a nice neck massage with a jug of sweet rice wine either should he demand it so.

-Mischievous, as his highness has a tendency to not only take things in an unserious manner but he also has an urge to commit to acts of minor chaos to the potential annoyance of others.

Three Great Legends:
-Once stole the most precious gemstone from a great ruler, only to later toss it into the river when he got bored of it.
-Has defeated a great mountain dragon in a drinking contest when his honor was called into question.
-Accidentally was married to the Warchief of the Orcs for a night after a round of partying with her. Both sides mutually agreed to never speak of the matter again and separated.

---

The Legendary Story of His Highness​

Truth be told, it is the story of my people that were this all begins. It was not so long ago in the grand scheme that we were content to pick fruits off trees and climb on branches, while picking lice and bugs out of our fur. It was all so simple, indeed. Animals, we were. But then, there was something odd that happened to our woodlands - they changed. And so did we, as we began to speak and walk on hind legs and do whatever it is the naked apes outside do.

By the time I was born we already had a collection of small villages to claim as our own, nestled in the canopies. And I was also the only one to come out of this with... interesting abilities. I could change to whatever form I thought of! I could change other things to what I wanted! And many other quirks that showed up. Naturally, everyone was confused at first as I began to figure these things out. Greatness is, indeed, a burden when so few can actually understand it. It was then that a nice old man stopped by for a time to teach me.

I grew more refined in my ways, and ever more confident. But I think he grew annoyed with me as well such as the time when I replaced his tea leaves blend with sour berries.Oho, his face! Priceless. It also meant that he eventually left. Despite this abrupt end to my tutelage, I was given charge to protect my people. As the wyld has created many dangerous creatures, this meant that one needed to be strong enough to be on guard. This included the fearsome eldbeast, with its devilish horns and dagger like teeth! Snatching away younglings that ventured too far from company... I said no more!

With many as my witnesses I confronted the beast in its lair, driving it out to never return! It was, from then on, I was named King... by myself.The others were confused by the title I had ordained myself, but figured that it was the same as Protector. So I suppose it fits. Regardless, being in the wyldwood all the time would be boring and so I ventured outside to see the world beyond. A King must always make known his surroundings. But there too I discovered that there were a whole collection of naked apes who didn't like what I was doing. A bunch of party-killers if you ask me... that one mayor had that pile of poop flung at his face coming to him! In any case, the world outside was ever so violent and gruesome... I didn't like it.

So I went home and stayed, content to drink and eat and - occasionally - whack some heads of whomever came close to my domain.

 

[Dest]

Name: Serena Fowling

Age: 19

Race: Human

Appearance:


Affiliation: Institute Mage

Track: Alchemy

Weaving echo: Serena's Echo contains the faint smell of old parchment, ink, and quills that bring to mind the recesses of a great library. Scraps of sentences can be heard within it as well, most often from things that have been read recently by the listening party.

Extra weapons and items:
A pair of daggers called 'Book' and 'Quill', a small Flute, and a satchel containing parchment, quills, and ink.

Personality: Kind and cheerful, Serena does her best to bring a light of happiness with her no matter where she goes. This is offset by her often overly blunt nature, many times saying things that offend others without realizing she has done so. She is willing and often able to help any who she considers a friend, going far out of her way to offer any aid that may be needed. She is passionate about learning and teaching in equal measure, often more than many would expect should they have never seen one of her research binges.

Character flaws:
Overly Inquisitive - Serena will often go onto research binges or get distracted by the most mundane of things, often leading her to ignore danger in her attempts to learn about whatever it is that has caught her fancy.

Physically Weak - Serena is not a strong person, the heaviest thing that she lifts most often being thick tomes or large piles of parchment.

Overly Blunt - At times Serena can be overly blunt, not always understanding the dynamics of a social circle and coming off as rude as a result.

Background:
Serena was born as the youngest of three upon a small island to the east of Krowne. Her parents, a Bookkeeper and a Historian, raised her to study and learn all that she could almost from the moment that she could speak and, as a result, she quickly grew to find a love of learning that surpassed any expectation that the pair might have had. As soon as she could walk the young girl began to wander their home, peering into the darkened corners and hidden spots to try to find something new and exciting. As she grew older these adventures more and more often left the family’s home, often taking her into the village or wilderness that surrounded them and often only her siblings were able to find her and return her to home.

It wasn’t until Serena was seven that she learned the true danger her ranging could have, however. What had begun as a simple trek in the woods after following a butterfly quickly turned into a nightmare as she stumbled into the cave of a great bear, and it was there that she first felt a taste of death. As per the usual, her brother had followed her in an effort to keep her from getting lost and as she discovered the bear, and it discovered her in turn, he rushed forwards to try to save her. He told the young girl to run, to get help, and so she did. Through the woods she ran, tears streaming down her face, but it was for naught. By the time that the villagers had been able to go to rescue her brother, it was far too late.

Serena blamed herself for the disaster, and for the next three years it was all anyone could do to even get her to speak. She lost herself in tomes that her parents kept and withdrew from all her previous friends and even the others among her family. It wasn’t until the time of her testing that even the barest spark was returned to her in the form of finding that she had passed the test and would be taken away to Krowne. With tears in her eyes and promises to remain in contact with her family, Serena left her home for the next journey in her life.

The young girl was nervous as she walked into the academy and found herself drawn to the familiar in the first few days, finding the library and spending as much time as she could there. As the weeks went by Serena found that she was being watched by an older student, one who finally approached her after her second month. Her name was Lauren Virgos, and she took Serena under her wing. As more and more time went on the young girl was broken more and more out of her shell by her new friend, helping her to heal and grow once more into the inquisitive girl she had once been.

And so the years went on, Lauren eventually graduating six years later and Serena two years later, the now young woman once more as bright and curious as she had ever been.

(optional) Three rumours: Make up three rumours people have heard about your character, two are true, and one is a complete fabrication, it can be as ridiculous as you like.

True - Serena knows of every publicly book held within the Academy's library.

True - Serena has gone a week without sleep due to being deep within a research binge.

False - Serena remembers everything she has ever read.