Fantasy 𝘛𝘩𝘦 𝘎𝘢𝘵𝘦 𝘰𝘧 𝘚𝘰𝘳𝘥𝘦𝘮 - 𝘊𝘩𝘢𝘳𝘢𝘤𝘵𝘦𝘳 𝘚𝘩𝘦𝘦𝘵

[SleepyConley]

The Gate of Sordem
Music

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Character Sheet​

Name:

Age:

Pronouns:

Race:

Height:

Weight:

Personality:

Background:

Religion: (which god do they follow?)

Region: (where are they from, if not from the empire, use the map of the continent and make up your own origin! Create lore, I don't mind!)

Total Mana: (how much mana were you born with? A lot or a little or an average amount.)

Magical Affinity: (what affinity does your character have?)

Fighting Style: (how are you going to be fighting? rouge with daggers, mage with an enchanted staff?)

Skills: (feel free to get creative and make up some skills, I'll let you do 3 for the start, if you want to have a unique skill please message me!)

Other: (got any items you're bringing you wanna share?)

 

[SleepyConley]

Crown​

Age: 24

Race: Human

Pronouns: He/Him

Height: 5'9 or 175cm

Weight: 180lbs

Personality: Crown is an often serious person, however he has a playful side to him. Crown likes to study and train, to be in control, that doesn't mean he doesn't have feelings though. He has plenty of feelings, Crown is a lover and will desperately fight tooth and bone to safe the life of someone he cares about.

Background: Crown grew up in the city-state of Bruton in the empire, Rothdane. He was considered to be royalty, related to the duke of the region. He grew up with a better life than most in Bruton, the poverty center of the empire. He got an education, proper training, he had friends, food, warmth. However, soon that would all change. Crown was only 4 when the Gate of Sordem opened. His entire life has been him training to fight against the demons, when he turned 14, his life of luxury would come to an end. His father, mother and sister all three would decide to become demon hunters and leave him all alone, under the care of the duke. However, It would seem that all of them would die to the demons. In despair Crown would travel to the city-state of Fenci, the military capital of the empire and enlist in the military. Here, for the next 4 years, he would be trained to be a demon hunter until he turned 18. For the next 6 years after that, Crown would isolate himself, meditating, practicing his magic, practicing his sword skills, all for revenge. To kill the demons who ruined his life of luxury, to kill the demons who took everything he cared about away, to put an end to the madness, like many others who have lost those close to them, he will set out to hunt demons.

Religion: Synaya

Region: Bruton, The Rothdane Empire

Total Mana: Being from royalty, Crown was born with a lot of mana.

Magical Affinity: Fire

Fighting Style: Spellsword, one-handed sword in one hand, magic in the other.

Skills:

Crown - when the skill is activated, a red crown will appear on Crown's head. It gives him a boost to his senses, speed, strength and mana regeneration.
Phantom Chains - when the skill is activated, 4 phantom chains will appear from Crown's back. He is able to control these chains like a limb and make excellent weapons.
Fire Dance - while using a sword, Crown can activate this skill to imbue his sword in flames.

 

[Bambiholic]

Name: Senna of House Elendir

Age: 102

Pronouns: Uses she/her but is fine with any pronouns

Race: Elf

Height: 5’2

Weight: 48kg
​

---

PERSONALITY:
Senna has a captivating blend of traits. Despite her slender frame and lack of physical strength, her spirit possesses an unwavering strength and determination that many find hard to match. Head-strong and optimistic, Senna isn’t hesitant to stand up for whatever she believes is the right thing to do in a situation, always being ready to stand up for the underdog.

Though she hails from a well-respected family and is prideful of that fact, Senna swallows any pride she has when it comes to her allies, willingly following orders from others regardless of their societal status and putting every ounce of her trust in whoever she is being lead by. While Senna is fully capable of independence, her compassionate nature fuels her urge to care for others (even strangers) and so she prefers making her allies stronger as oppose to being strong by herself.

She tries her best to see the good in everyone, firmly believing that compassion and understanding can transform even the darkest of hearts. This unwavering faith in the inherent goodness of people, however, does not always act as a catalyst for positive change and can quickly become a weakness in the event that her faith in someone who doesn’t deserve it backfires, causing her to be taken advantage of. In this situation, her compassion for that person would cease to exist as Senna never dishes out third chances.

BACKGROUND:
Senna Elendir (pronounced elen-deer) was born into the esteemed Elendir family, an affluent and noble lineage deeply rooted in the history of Eldencor, the thriving elven city-state renowned for its alchemy and scholars. The Elendir name is one that resonates with many elves, for their lineage has produced generations of scholars, mages and well-rounded individuals. Being 102 years old, Senna is the youngest of the Elendirs, though she wasn’t always the only young one.

A sensitive subject among the family, her older half-brother Yosei who was half-human embarked on a perilous journey a long time ago, dedicating his skill in battle to the fight against the demons. As time passed and hope dwindled, Yosei failed to return alongside the last of his team, leaving his fate shrouded in uncertainty. Amidst her family’s despair and mourning, Senna was the only Elendir that clung to an unwavering belief that Yosei could still be alive. Despite her parents reminding her that its impossible for a lonesome soul survive those lands without perishing or losing their mind, Senna's hope will remain undying until she finds out exactly what became of him.

In the face of adversity, she insisted that she joined the team that would be venturing towards the perilous lands of Tetan, fuelled by the hope that she might find evidence of her brothers survival along the way. Being a more knowledgeable healer than most and a competent archer, there was no real reason for her parents to decline her request. Elendirs are head-strong and persistent, after all - if they had declined, she would only have joined the team without their permission. Senna fully intends to do her duty in the team and protect her allies from the danger that awaits, but finding Yosei will always be in the back of her mind.

RELIGION:
Senna prays to the goddess Cera.

REGION:
Eldencor, the majority elven city-state.

TOTAL MANA:
Certainly above average, but not as much as the royals.

MAGICAL AFFINITY:
Light magic.

FIGHTING STYLE:
Since Senna is a light mage whose prowess is healing, during combat she tends not to take the enemy head-on, but this is not to say she is completely useless at offence. As well as wielding the elven bow Lucille that is passed down as an Elendir family heirloom named after the legendary marksman Lucille Elendir, Senna can also utilise some of her skills to inflict damage.
​

---

SKILLS:
Looking Glass: If properly timed, Senna can negate any magic damage that an ally is struck with. At her current skill level, Looking Glass is able to absorb fifty percent of the damage and deflect it back onto whoever the hostile caster was. This currently only works on magic damage and cannot deter any illusions caused by dark magic.

Helping Hand: Senna restores health to an ally, the runes on her skin turning white as she does so. This ability is stronger when Senna makes skin contact with whoever she is healing and can work on all life forms including that of animals and plants, but during battles Senna heals allies from a distance so as to not get in the way of their combat.

Archery: Despite being a healer, Senna is also a fine archer. Senna can infuse the tip of a regular arrow with light magic which does bonus damage to demons and anyone whose affinity is dark magic, but this doesn’t have any added effect on anyone else.

ITEMS:​

• Lucille, a family heirloom and elven bow.​
• A small satchel containing some health potions and a mana potion that Senna recently purchased.​

 

[Deepfish]

The King of the Peaks


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Character Sheet​

Name: Egregor Bor’Khanik

Age: 59yrs

Pronouns: He/Him, Lord/Majesty

Race: Giant

Height: 11ft 7in

Weight: 376lbs

Personality: A serious but fair and honest being, This giant will boldly tell you what is on his mind wether or not you like what he has to say. He treats all beings about the same, judging based on what a person does rather than what they say or their circumstances. While he may feel fear few people will ever see such things and those who do will see and being that swallows his fears and charges ever forward into the storm, often times being one of his own creation. The giants of his mountaintop city are typically very respectful of his decrees but when questioned he is not above responding to their concerns, or bashing their heads in if their concerns are merely falsehoods and attempts to undermine him. Due to his past he tends to be very suspicious of charity and kindness, often seeing it as a means for an individual to claim he owes them a debt. Because of this he can be seen as shrewd and often ungrateful, but in truth he has good reason for holding his trust close and only a few beings will ever get themselves a piece of this. Politics and deceit are among his least favorite things in this or any world, the only thing he hates more are any being who chooses to see other races as inferior, he has spilled blood of giants who hold that belief, and will not hesitate to do so to non giants who express such views in front of him.

Background: Egregor was not born a king, but he was born on a particularly important day for Giantkind. The day called Mountainfall, where giants of the frigid mountains recall the fall of their empire and in a day of mourning acknowledge that their decline was their own doing. He was not the only giant born on this day, but he was born with a few differences to the others, some more notable than others. Firstly his skin was blue with bright red hair, both of which were not common for his bloodline. Less apparent was his tremendous amounts of mana, which paired with a dual elemental affinity had his parents and family friends sure he would be great one day…they had no idea how right they were.

Egregor was naturally talented in magic, and as he grew it would become obvious that no trade in strength or stature was made for this gift he was blessed with. He was balanced in both blade and spell-craft, enough to land him in a spot within the military at an early age. It was all uphill for him after that, in the Frosthyte giant army he was able quickly climb through the ranks displaying not only greater physical prowess and mystical talant than his peers, he seems able to quickly grasp tactics and strategy allowing him to best those who rivaled him in one category or another. Finally at the age of 45 he was dubbed The Giants Grand champion, an honor that earned him the right to sit beside the king during ceremonies and important events.

He would become close with the king as they would bond on a passion they shared, the Study of the once great Giant empire of Titainius. However their interest was for different reasons which Egregor came to find out in the time to come. For two years the giants were inseparable, until in a public setting he and the king were drinking on the night of Mountainfall and the king brought up how much the Giants would benefit from the growing chaos in the rest of the world if they performed a Giant march and took all the lands they passed. Egregor countered by mentioning how many people Giant and Smolfolk aloke would perish and was met with the response that Smolfolk were not people. Voices raised as Egregor tried to argue that was the very mindset that caused the fall of the old empire. They would have a huge argument and Egregor would flip the banquet table in his fury demanding that the King be silent and retract his words.

The banquet hall fell silent and the king was put in a bad position, either heed Egregors words and appear to be weak, or Declare his tone and actions treacherous and call for his head. Perhaps under a clearer head he would have told the guards to clear the room and discuss things in private with Egregor, But alcohol is called liquid courage for a reason and The king chose option two. Calling for Egregors head in a frantic fury. But you see Egregor had also been drinking, and the little voice inside him that would have said “this is not worth it” was at the time face down in its own inebriated state. This he drew his axe the moment the guards drew their swords, it happened fast, all say it was but an instant. The guard to Egregors left stopped in his tracks his skin turning blue as he fell, the one to his right reacted quickly and attempted to bring his sword down on Egregor, but as his blade connected with egregors axe he realized quickly the error of his ways, with a furious hum the axe began to heat and a few moments later the sword gave out, bending and caving in as the axe head embedded itself into his shoulder.

The king would rise to his feet drawing his own ornate short sword and making a move towards Egregor whilst his ace was occupied, but this king was no warrior, he had not been on the battlefield much, and Egregor was his peoples champion. It was rather easy for him to catch the kings wrist, step beside him, and use his own hip as a fulcrum to slam the king back into his throne, taking the discombobulated giants hand afterwards and driving his own short sword into his heart was even easier than that.

The month that followed that would be known as the month of Bloodletting, upon realizing what he had done Egregor leaned into his decision claiming what happened was just. Many disagreed and wished to see his head on a pike. He would spend the month hunting down each one and having them the opportunity, but none had the Ability. Thirteen years he has sat upon the throne he took from his old friend, and though progress is slow he has made leaps and bounds in trying to build relations with the nations outside of his people’s territory. Starting with him sending out Giant mercenaries to bolster defensive forces around the continent, and most recently building a tower at the foot of the mountain just north of Fenci, this tower reads “New Titainius Embassy” and is currently empty except for the Four guards stationed at the properties four corners. They claim their King will soon come to parley with the people of Fenci.

Religion: Egregor is not religious. He doe’s believe that the gods exist and has respect for them all, but he sees prayer as begging, ceremonies as pandering, and asking the gods for more power than they saw fit to give you as being blasphemous. While he respects no religion, he respects the people who can adhere to any belief that he does not find abominable. That said he will chastened those who disrespect gods in his presence.

Region: New Titainius- The nation of Giantd existing in the megalithic ruins of the mountains north of Fenci. The ruins date back to between 3000-4000 years old and were clearly made by and for Giants. Giants have occupied this land since before then and have never been driven out of their home. As such little is known of these areas, aside from the fact that it is full of Giants, Mammoths, Dire beasts, And even Frost worms. The giants dwelling there for a long time were only spotted holding bone and stone tools, however in the past two centuries they have begun to be seen more frequently with steel and some claim to have seen them actually writing with their own language again.

Total Mana: Egregor has a massive Pool of mana to draw from. Enough to Remove any stealth capacity he might have had in spite of being a giant. Anyone with the ability to detect magic can feel him from a good distance, and up close he would actually feel a bit unnerving (if possible. Otherwise he would just be well above average on par with royals.)

Magical Affinity: Fire & water (Specifically Heat manipulation)

Fighting Style: Egregor has a two phase fighting style. First slow or immobilize his targets with mid range AoE effects that pull heat, Freeze, and obstruct. Before switching to Potent Melee swings with his axe, which will by then be heated to a point that it can melt steel in a few moments of prolonged contact. The Giants have taken to Call this style, The Dance of Ice and Fire, as Egregor is surprisingly quick and elegant looking while using them.

Skills:
Cloak of Blizzard- the Main spell of Egregor is his Cloak of blizzard spell which causes his exhalations to swirl with the natural wind and accumulate speed, while rapidly losing heat, and gathering moisture. This essentially makes him the epicenter of a small blizzard. While active Everything within 30ft begin to take small amounts of frost damage, and can be slowed down if not properly equipped. Visual range is reduced to about 3ft within this storm, thermal sensory capacity still functions. (Antifrost clothing such as jackets and warmer clothing can get rid of the damage and slow effects but not the visual restrictions.)

Frost Vortices- A more focused ice spell for those who remembered their winter clothes, this spell creates a 45ft long cone that is 15ft wide at its widest. Anything within the cone will have their heat drained rapidly and will fall into hypothermic conditions. This does not damage the target conventionally but actually weakens and immobilizes them by rendering them unconscious via hypothermia. Those of sufficient willpower can remain conscious with effort, and those with sufficient reflexes can spring out of the cones radius before the effects set in. About a full second in the cone is sufficient to suffer negative effects, with three full seconds being enough to lower the body temperature to the local environment. All heat stolen by this spell is stored for later use within the rune in his Worm bone Axe.

Searing Strike- A worm bone Axe is the focal point of the most powerful offensive attack in Egregor’s technique list. The runes carved in the bone handle absorb all heat stolen by the frost vorticies and add that to the intense heat generated by the spell itself. Using this his axe is superheated to a point of being able to melt steel in a few seconds. This will stay heated like this for around three minutes or until he triggers the end of his spell by shouting “burst” causing the axe to unleash any remaining heat it may have stored. The earlier the burst is used to larger its radius. The maximum size of the flame burst is around 30ft perfectly matching his cloak of blizzard. A fact he likes to use to surprise those caught in its radius.

Other: (every epic hero needs a themesong.)

 

[Aquarin]

Quint Kelayn (Kwint Keh-Layn)

Age: 63

Pronouns: He/Him


Race: Half-Elf; Half-Human

Height: 5'6 or 168cm

Weight: 139lbs or 63kg

Personality

Quint is a stoic person. He prefers the solitude of silence and the predictability of nature over the loudness and rashness of other talking beings, getting quite overwhelmed by too many loud personalities. There‘s a certain distance he likes to keep between other people and himself, both physically and on an interpersonal level. He is guarded about things he considers personal and is never truly relaxed around others; he is always tense, as if ready to strike.

Considering his impairment, he does bring it up whenever he deems it necessary, but only explains the bare minimum as it is a rather sore point of his. It is also the only thing he truly reacts strongly to when teased about or otherwise wronged in that regard. His go-to response is either isolating himself completely for a while or retorting with petty, but overall not harmful, actions or words.

His nature is that of a perfectionist and a pragmatist, infused with the stubbornness of a mule once he has an idea in mind. Quint is also deeply intrigued and curious about unknown and strange things, which can lead to a rather selfish pursuit of trying to understand them regardless of how that could affect his allies. A rather unfortunate combination of traits.

Although he is rather closed off around strangers or acquaintances, once he warms up or even starts to trust them, he is way more relaxed and loose-tongued. He starts to have fun with them, tolerates more and more of their little quirks, or even shows them the little plant wonders like his father once did to him.

Backstory

Quint was born to a merchant and an alchemist who called Ayrith, a small town in the southern part of Elden, their home. Enjoying the perks of both worlds, he spent the majority of his early childhood either helping out his father with researching and analyzing unknown plants or watching his mother command the busy morning streets. Between the both of them, his family was well off, and the only thing Quint was truly lacking were friends he could connect with. Instead of that, he turned to the woodland animals and the surrounding forests, finding comfort in their serene and peaceful presence.

At the age of twenty-five, a highly infectious disease made its rounds in his village, to which Quint also fell prey. To his luck, his father was able to keep his body breathing while it was being ravaged by a high fever and randomly occurring episodes of seizures. Although he was able to recover from the sickness weeks later, it permanently impaired his vision and left him unable to recognize anything or anyone. Most of it was reduced to blurry blobs of color. At the beginning, this left Quint highly moody and irritated. Not being used to needing help for basic things like traversing the roads on his own made him lash out at his supportive but overprotective parents.

During this time, he often escaped into the woods in an attempt to get away from his failures at trying to adapt to his new situation and all the sensory overload. There he stumbled, or rather was found, by a wandering mage scholar. She taught him ways to overcome his struggles, honed his other, still intact senses, and, with the support of his parents, showed him how to use his magic. His magic became his sixth sense.

When the Gate of Sordem opened his teacher left, wanting to be home during all the chaos and despair. His parents, also not feeling safe in Ayrith anymore, decided to relocated to Eldencor.

At first, Quint followed them to Eldencor, but quickly realized that he felt unsatisfied in the bigger elven city. He didn‘t feel any joy in the craft his parents were doing, even with their numerous attempts to make it appealing to him. Quint caught himself desiring what his teacher did before the Gate opened, and that was traveling the country.

So he did that.

He spent the next years of his life moving from town to town, visiting most of the City States, while keeping his funds alive with peculiar local requests ranging from retrieving lost objects to petty revenge quests.

Quint’s goal is simple: He wants to feel what the whole world looks like.

Religion: He prays to both Betura and Duekallan, as there is still a small spark inside of him that hopes for the miracle of recovery. Be it because of a literal wonder or the lucky discovery of a scholar.

Region: Ayrith, southern part of Elden. It relies heavily on its local environment to sustain itself. The only noteworthy things are the crystal lake, around which the town is built, and the nearby underground steel mine. There is certainly more comfort than utility here.

Total Mana: Average

Magical Affinity: Air

Fighting Style

Quint‘s talent lies in detection and information gathering, so he rather keeps to the backlines, calling out the position and movement of enemies in an actual fight. His main ways to engage actively in a battle are stealthy takedowns, either with a quick dagger to the throat or his preferred options, a poisonous arrow tip, and his magic. When possible, he does want to avoid close combat in a fight, though. Outside of a fight, or rather before it, he is the one to scout out unknown areas, either relying on his magic to get a sense of the environment or infiltrating it personally with his rather unthreatening and unassuming presence, which can easily get overlooked.

Skills

Bird’s Eye - The skill allows Quint to detect any presence and movement in an 80ft (24m) circle around him with him as the center. It combines his high sensibility to mana and his air affinity to constantly transmit a 3D picture into his head, similar to a bat with echolocation. As long as either mana or flowing air, that can reach Quint, is present, this detection will work and can‘t be prevented. There are ways to work around this detection though, ranging from completely preventing any air to leave the room or overloading an area with mana sources, that makes distinguishing them impossible. Sound can be transmitted, but it gets muddy over longer distances and hard to understand. He could theoretically read their lips, though. To avoid sensory overload, Quint is able to reduce the radius of the circle to his liking. This skill is passively active and helps him traverse the world outside of combat situations.

Safe Flight - When activating this skill, Quint is able to change the trajectory of any already airborne objects. The heavier the object or the more force put into it, the harder it is for him to change its flying path freely, and the more it drains from his mana. He mainly uses this to change the direction of his arrows mid-flight or deflect hostile projectiles.

Hollow Bones - Quint is able to reduce his body weight to a fifth of his usual weight and slightly suppress all the noises he creates, making his movement almost completely silent. With the use of general air magic, he can traverse hard-to-reach places almost effortlessly, either floating or even flying with no high mana usage. Unlike what the skill name suggests, it doesn‘t decrease the thickness of his bones, but it does make Quint easier to be manhandled.

Items: A reinforced steel flask containing a fast-acting poison that paralyzes movement when it comes in contact with the bloodstream; it is created out of special herbs native to Eldencor.

Others

Theme Songs/Vibe

• Caution
• Journey

• I Can See The Danger - Valor Valor
  
• Imbre - Jordan Critz
  
  

 

[Sylvio]

Nun of the Shadows

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Character Sheet​

Name: Cary Llewelyn

Age: 28

Pronouns: She/Her

Race: Human

Height: 5'6"

Weight: 53 kg/116 lbs

Personality: A true believer in Betura. She is a compassionate person and spreads the teachings of the Church of Betura as well as she can. She believes in the good of others and wants to protect the innocent, but just cause she prays doesn’t mean she can’t defend herself. She will not hesitate to fight if she has to and she always does it out of defense, protecting all that she cares about. She has been around all walks of life and has been in enough situations with people where she knows who and who not to trust, as a result, she’s undoubtedly honest and blunt towards those close to her. But she does have an impending sense of doom and dread that eats away at her. Her anxiety tends to get the best of her which causes her to shut away and avoid others as much as possible until she can cope with her anxiety.

Background: Cary was another nobody from Bruton. For many kids like her, you either worked or committed crime. Cary and her brother would be thieves but that didn’t last long until her brother got caught by a street wrong who he tried to pickpocket and his body was dumped in the river.

Paralyzed and lost, Cary was unsure of what to do until she came across the Church of Betura. She wasn’t the only one who felt pain or had lost someone they loved to the disparities of Bruton. When she attended church services she found out how the church wasn’t just a place of worship, but they were attempting to aid the community with food pantries, medical aid, and teaching self-defense.

But how did they get this funding for these services? They themselves stole from the crime families in Bruton who took advantage of the economic disparity in the city-state. Through banding together, and giving back to the needy could they alleviate the pressures brought onto the people of Bruton. Cary's criminality soon coalesced into a new purpose. It was used to help others and fight back against those who benefitted from their suffering.

Eventually, there was a call to arms for people to sign up as demon hunters. This was a chance for the church to spread influence and find allies in which Cary jumped at the opportunity and joined.

Religion: Betura. A nun of the Church of Betura, she remains convicted in her cause to spread compassioned to the misfortunate and the kind to make the world a better place.

Region: Bruton

Total Mana: Average

Magical Affinity: Dark

Fighting Style: Cary's fighting style matches that of a rogue with her choice weapon being a sword and dagger. She's very agile on her feet and uses dark magic to enhance her abilities to regard to infiltration and stealth.

Skills:
Pacify - Normally works on non-demon beings, tempers a hostile organism giving someone enough time to de-escalate a situation.
Kleptomaniac - As a thief, Cary has very nimble hands and can pretty much nab anything given proper concentration.
Invisibility - A physically and mentally demanding spell but very useful when trying to get the job on someone or gather intelligence.

Other: She carries the Tomes of Betura on her at almost all times.

 

[ItcamefromtheVoid]

The Beast Tamer

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Rinn Dumwevar​

Name: Rinn Dumwevar (Doom Weaver)

Age: 21

Pronouns: She, Her

Race: Human

Height: 5'11"

Weight: 80 Kg

Personality
Out going and adventurous, she is fearless. Having grown up living in the wild Rinn is more akin to an animal than a civilized person. Wearing her emotions on her sleeve it's very clear she is passionate about anything she does. Loyal to a fault, Rinn loves making friends and travel companions. She will always show a mutual respect. Anyone she has the privilege of calling a friend she will protect ruthlessly with her life. She can be a wildfire with her anger, which could be a double-edged sword if she is fighting, as rage can make her predictable in battle. When she is relaxing, Rinn can become rambunctious when left on her own. A sense of curiosity and the need to explore has gotten her into trouble in the past. But she will never recklessly endanger her friends or family.

Background
In the most southern region of Asherdan, there is the Hantonas forest, a tropical region of Asherdan, home to many creatures, including humans. The Nogio tribe, often referred to as Wild Folk, are humans that are somewhere between wild animals and civilization. The Nogio tribe is known for their mounted warriors. Beast taming is a rite of passage in their community. Those with the skill of taming the wild animals of the Hantonas Forest are among the highest members within the tribe. None are renowned as Rinn Dumwevar, second daughter of chieftain Hektar Dumwevar. As a young girl, Rinn was adventurous and often had to be saved by her father when she found herself in danger. But that never stopped her from exploring the forest surrounding the village of Dunwich. Her family has been at the threshold of the village for nearly two centuries. Rinn, growing up, admired the mounted warriors of the Nogio Tribe, wanting to become one herself. As soon as she was strong enough to hold a weapon, she began training as a warrior.

As a young adult, Hektar took Rinn under his wing to become his retainer after his passing. She took on this role dotingly without fail, but she had always wanted to do more with her life. Explore other lands and spread the Dumwevar name across the world of Eznia. Her parents had their concerns for her ability to survive in the world, thus Hektar gave her an impossible task of obtaining a dragon as her mount. Rinn took on this challenge with a head strong mentality. She explored the forest in search of a cave. It had taken her several years to get her egg, but she found one. Rinn raised that dragon from a hatchling to maturity, naming him Kharr. The beast had grown so large it couldn't stay within the stables of the village. It ventured into the mountains to roost in a cave hidden deep within the peaks of the mountains southeast of Hantonas forest. When it came time for her to set out on her adventure, Hektar gave her his prized weapon. A dragon tooth great hammer. Saying her goodbyes, Rinn took the hammer and climbed onto Kharr, heading out into the world.

The Day the Demons Cried Rinn was blooming into a young woman and a fine warrior. She had seen much of Eznia, but there was still much more to see. In her travels, Rinn had helped refugees escape the demons. But after three years of exploration, she returns home. But Nogio Village was not the same place she had remembered. Her eldest sister had married before she left. Upon return, Rinn learned of her sister's death, along with her nieces and nephews. Her father had lost his vision and ability to fight and her brother, now becoming a young man, had taken up the chief role of the village. Devastated, Rinn continues to blame herself for the deaths of her sister, her husband and their children. Their village had grown with refugees and newcomers from the empire. Rinn praised her brother for his strength and courage. Then she set out to the royal capital Cordis, to pledge herself as a warrior to the emperor.

Religion
Cera and Synaya- The religion of two gods stems from the legends of Cera and her son Synaya. They worship Cera for fair weather, harvests, hunts, and births. The Nogio tribe worships Synaya for his strength in battle and his magic from the earth. Often holding ceremonies and festivals during the seasons or weddings.

Total Mana: Lower than average, born with very little Mana Rinn, is more focused on her physical abilities than her magic

Magical Affinity: Earth

Region
Southern Asherdan, a small tribal village called Dunwich (Dune Wick)

Fighting Style
Rinn's style of fighting is unique to herself. With some of the basic training coming from the tribal warriors, Rinn uses her strength and agility to combat foes. Fighting with noble beasts of the forest and others that would consider humans weak has made Rinn strong. Experience has been her greatest teacher. Rinn has grown comfortable with a wide variety of weapons, though she still holds her Dragon Tooth Great Hammer as her strongest weapon next to her companion Kharr. Rinn's mounted combat is her strongest ability. Kharr can use his fire breathing to attack from the air. Kharr can also fight independently when needed. Her low mana only held Rinn's combat prowess back. But what she lacks in magical ability, she makes up for with her tenacity and battlefield awareness.

Skills
Beast Tamer- Rinn's upbringing brought her closer to nature than most humans get in their lifetime. This has allowed her to encounter wild animals from dragons to Wolves. Rinn has tussled with them in the Hantonas forest. Her tribe has passed down the skill of domestication since their origins from deep in the jungles of Asherdan. This skill allows Rinn to subdue a monster she has fought if it is tired enough to become docile. The skill has a higher chance of working if the animal is juvenile or a prey animal that humans have historically domesticated.

Mounted Combat- A trademark to her tribe. The Nogio tribe's mounted warriors have picked animals that are deadly to ride into combat. They fight together and often make life long bonds. Rinn's relationship with Kharr is one of deep respect and trust. Rinn Raised Kharr from egg to maturity. While he can only make grunts, growls, roars, and snarls. They have a unique understanding of each other. Kharr will consider though anyone other than Rinn that approaches Kharr as a threat if Rinn is accompanying them, Kharr will be docile and welcoming to them. Kharr's natural abilities allow Rinn to fight from the air or even have Kharr fight on his own supporting Rinn and her allies with his physical size and fire breath.

Warrior's Resolve- Rinn's determination is second to none. She will fight endlessly until she is dead or too weak to stand. This inner strength comes from her upbringing. The many scars that cover her body are stories of times she has foughten to the bitter end with enemies. The Warrior's Resolve is a skill that comes from years of honing her skills, her dedication and will power. This skill applies to Rinn's mental and physical fortitude. It allows her to dig deep in dire straights and overcome obstacles or defeat powerful enemies. Though not a unique skill to herself, as most warriors know how to dig deep. This means another warrior could be stronger than her and bring defeat.

Other

Spoiler: Kharr the Black Dragon

Spoiler: Theme Song

 

[Deepfish]

The Hero No More
Music

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Character Sheet​

Name: Yoseph Moarkrupt

Age: 66yrs (appears early 20’s)

Pronouns: He frankly doesn’t give a damn what you call him

Race: Human

Height: 5ft 11in

Weight: 151lbs

Personality: When a man is put through hell and comes out the other side it shows, and in this man it might as well be a billboard. He can reliably be found in a bar nihilistically punishing his liver and antagonizing all he can with his cynical passive aggressive jabs and insults. He has been a bit of a rabble rouser since moving to fenci, yet half the time this is because he will interrupt a crime in progress and get caught Tousling with the perpetrator when the guards arrive. Because of this he tends to sleep in a jail cell most nights, only to be released later on. He is known as the town drunk, a tough cat to tango with and one who certainly has his claws. Though he seems to wear his uncaring mask, his altruism will occasionally shine through, he just cant seem to ignore an obviously unfair situation and will almost always butt in and promptly make himself a target to whatever the biggest threat seems to be. He is clearly a good man, but one with a death wish, a metric ton of regret, A serious case of Survivors guilt, and an inability or maybe an lack of motivation to actually deal with any of those problems.

Background: in the middle westernmost island of Okan there was once a people called the Mokei. Made up of seven Nomadic peoples With a semi-celtic asthetic. Though they wandered about on their small land constantly cycling to protect the land they saw as sacred, they were still a proud people who did not enjoy the company of outsiders and thus had little warning when all hell broke loose. Yet Yosephs story begins before that. Born a little over six and a half decades ago. One wouldn’t have though much of the kid. His build, mana, and life was about as average as one could find for the Mokai People.

He would train with his bow as a lad, roughhouse with his friends and father, and eventually grow to be a hunter. Yet his third foray into the woods to hunt changed his life forever. He was always told to stay with his partner whenever he hunted, it was dangerous to go alone. Yoseph could barely stand how slow the older hunter was though, and after seeing a deer sprint off into the brush he would give chase, only to sprint directly into the path of a angry bear. He loosed his arrow at around the same time the paw connected with his neck and slashed a gushing line into his throat. Panicked and choking on his own blood yoseph’s vision blurred and eventually went black, his last sight being an arrow striking the bear in the eye and dropping it beside him with a thud, then it went black.

The blackness was cold and deep and after a while he could hear a voice calling to him in a soothing tone, that quickly became cynical and annoyed. His bad luck as it turned out wasnt just a crappy draw from the deck of life, Yoseph had found himself as an unwilling player in a contest of the gods Duja & Sheiyu. His soul was the reward, his life the wager. He was taken to a grayish empty field with a target about a hundred meters away, and his bow in his hand. Duja Pointed at the target saying “take your best shot boy, where the arrow rests determines your fate.” and it began to move, along with the ground which rolled and bounced like the surface of the ocean, While sheiyu just gave him an arrow and said “good luck!” Yoseph tried to find his footing, and when he felt a bit sure he fired…yet his shot did not land true, a stone shifted upwards deflecting the arrow causing it to bounce backwards, the death gods laughed had only just begun when Yoseph reacted without thinking, he timed his jump with the sway of the ground, leapt into the air, caught the arrow, nocked and fired it before he touched the ground, and struck the target clean in its center at the same moment he fell back to the ground.

Duja growled in displeasure while Sheiyu laughed and said “i guess that means I win?” Yet the death god shook his head. “We agreed to His Best shot, Not two. You have cheated and thus the victory is mine. Yoseph felt his soul begin to be drawn towards Duja, but it slowed as Sheiyu reached his own hand out saying “we never agreed to a set number of shots, the arrow never came to rest, it was still in play.” Yet the pull once again started as Duja scoffed “Enough, i will not be denied my right.” And with that Duja touched Yoseph and that was it…or rather it should have been.

In the material world the old ranger who was Yosephs partner sat on his knees applying what healing magic he could while begging the boy to come back. “Betura please raise this lad, lest his father lay me down beside him.” Now this old man was a devout follower of the goddess, one in whom no wickedness could be found, and thus the goddess heeded his call. Granted the poor boy being caught up in her family’s antics helped her make that decision, and thus she went into the Realm between life and death with her brothers.

On her approach she found the two tugging the young boys soul and she joined in getting her own grip and pulling. That was when his soul tore in half. The part of him that allowed him to contain mana in his bones, and cross over to the other world was taken by Duja, while the part that held his memories and emotions went into the hands of Shieyu and Betura, who quickly flung it back to the world of the living.

The boy shot up with a gasp at the same moment the healing magic closed his wound, but he was different after that. No longer did he have any mana or the ability to cast spells, nor would his wounds heal on their own, bruises would persist until someone healed him or until he consumed a healing potion. Likewise with cuts though they strangely would only bleed for a little while. It would be another three years at the age of 19 that he would realize just how much he had changed. He and a friend had just spotted a boat landing on shore and went to investigate only to find them to be raiders. The brave or rather foolhardy young men decided to launch an ambush before fleeing to the town. This turned out to be a terrible idea as the first shot they fired had revealed their position and return shots came their way. Now Yoseph had been a hunter for nearly five years, and a warrior for two. He knew full well where a mans heart was. So when one of these arrows plunged into him he knew it had landed smack dab in his heart. Yet he didn’t fall, sure it hurt like all hell, especially after he pulled it out and shot it back at them then ran to catch up with his buddy on their route home, and he did begin to get lightheaded on the way back. But, he did not fall.

He would continue on discovering just how far he could push this newfound blessing. He would need healing often, and not everything would be cured by healing magic. Poisons and venoms would run their course through him, subjecting him to every symptom short of death, up until it broke down in his bloodstream. Wasn’t much a healer could do about that without a specialization in anti-toxin treatment. He found that enough blood loss would result in his becoming lightheaded and exhausting his stamina rapidly. Eventually he would start trying to avoid damage, as no amount of exposure seemed to help him adjust to pain, it was like every wound he took was the first he had felt, he found he could not adapt to the pain, but could raise his tolerance to it. Still having your bones break and organs rupture is no picnic, and over time he got good at avoiding it through distance. And he got downright scary with that bow over the years.

He began to worry after twenty years went by, yes he was beloved, his people saw him as a protector and a great hero. He had even begun to see himself in that light, and while he sat at the bittersweet burial party of his father he began to wonder if he would ever grow old, he didn’t seem to be aging much, heck it took him nearly a year to grow a five o clock shadow. Watching his youthful crush begin to wrinkle and have children while he still seemed to be a young man. He eventually resigned himself to the fact that he was going to be outliving everyone he knew, but it was a pill he could swallow knowing that he could use his gift and the experience gained through it to make their lives better, more peaceful, and without having to face the worst dangers of this world. How unfortunate for him, that his purpose became his people, for his people were not to survive.

When the gates of hell opened and the legions of hell started to flood the world, the close proximity of Okan to the epicenter of this disaster put in line to be one of the first neighboring nations to fall. Yoseph saw them coming and prepared to face them with many young warriors he would lead into battle, but he soon found himself leading these men to a slaughter. He had taken wounds through the charge but pressed on and only realized all to late that he was the last man standing of the charge only a few minutes after it met the enemy lines. He tried his best to fell as many as he could on his way back to warn the tribes to evacuate, but then he was struck by a large harpoon like crossbow bolt right in the belly and pinned to a tree. As he painfully tugged the bolt out and returned a shot, a second bolt struck his shoulder once again stopping in the tree behind him. He had just plucked the second one out and was about to return fire again when the third shot struck him in the forehead leaving him standing motionless in front of the tree suspended by the projectile.

He didn’t know how long he was out, but when the weight of his body finally tilted the harpoon enough that his head slid off of it, he would wake up, dizzy, with a headache to end all headaches, not to mention the woozy lightheaded feeling of bloodloss, but all that was secondary to the smell, the smell of a town burning. He pleaded with the gods on his way home, begging them to somehow let this be a dream, it couldn’t be real. But when he got to his peoples camp the brutal reality set in. None were left, not a single man woman or child. Every last one had been butchered and left out for display. His small camp had nothing left in it worth value and so the enemy moved on. Through his pain, physical and emotional mind you, he worked ceaselessly for nearly a week, he buried his people, he performed their rituals, and he prayed to their gods for them, and when done he cursed the gods. He swore that he would see them die, that he would outlast the world to spit them, and when it came time to bury the gods, he would be the one to lay them in their graves.

He fled to Fenci afterwards a different man entirely. No longer did he trouble himself with the lives of others, no more did he praise the gods for walking him each morning, no longer did he crave adventure and valor. The wounds of that day were far more severe than the ones the healers had patched up. The Hero of Mokai was dead, gone with the people he protected, what remained was the undying husk, a haunting memory of the people torn apart by this spreading darkness. Or perhaps, the Embers of The passionate fire that once drove him to be a hero, simply need to be rekindled.

Religion: Yoseph kinda hates the gods. He blames them for his life being so full if pain and has yet to hear and argument that convinces him otherwise.

Region: Originally from Okan, specifically the middle western island. Currently Fenci

Total mana: None

Magical affinity: None

Fighting style: Yoseph tends to fight at a distance picking off opponents and luring them into spots where he can pin them down or rack up multiple kills per shot, while rare if he does get into a melee battle, he tends to ignore most opponents attacks that would not delimb him or render him unconscious, while trying to plunge his short sword and dagger into the target as many times as possible. Yet he tries to avoid melee battles as they are more likely to get him injured

Skills: Trickshot Ricochet- After decades of practice Yoseph has mastered the art of bouncing, skipping, and slipping arrows around cover, under shields, and into his targets. To date his best shot has been a triple bounce into a bandits throat as he was shouting to regroup.

Trickshot Sitawe- short for situational awareness the Sitawe trickshots target things like a potted plant on a ledge, the rope of a drawbridge, a loose rooftile. Using the surroundings of a target to bring them down in ways that appear to be freak accidents. He also uses this for sabotage and escape attempts.

Trickshot Stepfire- a method of firing ones bow where drawing, knocking, and firing become a fluid motion that synchronizes with the archers steps allowing them to rapidly fire while in motion. Master archers can move at a near sprint and fire rapidly without losing much accuracy.

Other: while not usually with him due to his daily routine, he does have some specialty arrows he learned to make while hunting with the mokai. Each of these are attachments that can be stuck to an arrow to add a special effect to them.

Stink Arrows- Made of a mixture of mud, feces, stink glands from animals, the foul odor generated by this projectile bursting can water the eyes and gag the strongest of stomach’s. It also makes a target much much easier to track, if the tip of the arrow penetrates the target their risk of septic infection is high.

Blinding arrows- Arrows with a glass vial full of powdered glass shards. Upon impact it bursts letting out a puff of Microscopic shards of glass that can irritate the eyes and lungs of the target. Trying to rub the eyes after the cloud hits can result in permanent damage to the eyes. However one can wash it out with water to avoid this.

Flame arrows- arrows wrapped in a spongy plant material that is soaked in lantern oil before being lit and fired at the target. The spongy material can usually hold enough oil to ignite the targets clothes and skin.

Shard Arrows- Multiple arrows tied into a bundle where a slightly longer arrow sits in the center. The arrow in the center is what is fired and as it clears the bow its sharpened tip cuts the binding allowing the arrows tied to it to fly independently. He does not like using this method often as it is inaccurate and uses many arrows.

 

[yomi da great]

The Horned Scion
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Hexarim Derth​

Name: Hexarim Derth

Age: 22

Pronouns: She/Her

Race: Beastfolk

Height: 5'5

Weight: Isn't it rude to ask a lady her weight?

Personality: For a lady with such a rich background, Hexarim comes off as particularly sheltered. With nerves that are easy to rattle and a lack of a strong presence—one would be surprised at just how strong her will really is. Hexarim may not have been born strong, but being used to intimidation and threats has given her a special talent...a complete state of mind over matter. One may brush her off for any number of reasons: her high-strung moralism, her staunch dedication to civility and manners, her lack of worldly experience...
...But when a situation might shock even the most hardened of soldiers into a state of flight or fight, one can count on Hexarim to remain as focused as ever. Though, when one's magic is as dangerous as Hexarim's? Perhaps that state is not a product of sheer will...but of a caution that she can never afford to let go of.

Background: It was easy watching the end of the world from the safety of an estate.

The Derth Family has always been as shrewd as they are driven—perhaps due to the shorter lifespans of Beastfolk. When the demons came surging forth from the opened Gate of Sordem, the Derths said nothing as they silently pulled their merchant ships from foreign shores. It would be a significant blow to their overseas trading empire...but they were more concerned with lost revenue than lost lives. Perhaps they could have, or even should have sent money to aid those facing the Demons head-on. But why do that? There was so much else to still invest in, to spend on, after all! Bribes in attempts to make Rothdania the new capital; schemes that would place the Derths closer to dukedom; business with new trading partners, ones not being overran and massacred by Demons. There may have even been attempts to trade with the Demons themselves, if you are to believe in rumors...those doomed to die just weren't worth the money.

Though she was only 2 at the time, this family history would bother Hexarim—the young heiress to the Derth's merchant empire—her entire life. Granted, there was hardly ever any time to be focused on such things. She was always busy doing this and that! Hexarim had to study this field of business, or cozy up to that noble family, or negotiate with this big business partner...the Derth business was always on the move, after all, and she needed to be too. There was never any time to do the things that Hexarim herself wanted to do! Like visiting the marketplace, and mingling among the common people. Or attending classes at an academy, and learning about non-business things for a change. And most of all—

—Studying the magic she had always been forbidden to touch. Yes, she knew the latent dangers of her manapool! Yes, yes, yes, she had been told aaallllllll her life how dangerous it was, and how she should never use it, and how it was a super dark secret of the Derth family and whatnot. But Hexarim's dream...was not to be a merchant, but to become a grand mage. A wizard full of sagely wisdom and wisdomful sagelyness! Someone who didn't money off the common people, who didn't need to play any kind of political game...

Someone who could do what her father hadn't. That could save the people the Derth Family should have saved to begin with. Perhaps it was not a burden she needed to take, as it their inaction was not a guilt that belonged to her. But as Hexarim grew, so did the devastation of Sordem's Gate. And Hexarim, more than anybody else in world, could see each and every action that the the Derths—that her father—chose to not take. After all, in Rothdania, there was safety. In the Derth's business empire, there as a promise of a luxurious life. Beyond that peaceful sea...was a world Hexarim did not know, one that was already coming to an end. And their ashes wouldn't have the money needed for business.

But even if the the world had already ended past the Rothdania's peaceful seas, Hexarim wanted to at least help put the pieces back together. To do something, to do anything. For as long as she did nothing...her heart would never know peace.


Religion: Hexarim worships Duekallan first and foremost, aspiring to achieve his level of wisdom as a grand mage. However, she's been praying to Synaya quite often as of late, hoping for divine guidance in learning how to control her unstable magic. Overall, Hexarim wouldn't count herself as a particularly religious person and does not participate in any rituals or ceremonies.


Region: Rothdania


Total Mana: A dangerously high amount on par with a Royal's. Her manapool is known to be highly volatile, making regular spellcasting near impossible to control. Someone detecting magic might see her as a walking bomb waiting to go off.


Magical Affinity: Dark


Fighting Style: Hexarim is an inexperienced mage who can't control the power of her own spells. To counter this, she carves runes into smalls objects—typically, rocks and pebbles—and infuses these Runestones with mana to serve as safer catalysts for her casting. She typically holds them between her fingers, and throws them out as she casts. Though she may lack experience, careful use of her spells can turn the tide of any battle.


Skills:
Magic Missile: Hexarim turns a thrown Runestone into a small projectile made out of magical force. She can throw out anywhere from one to four Runestones per hand, but this (alongside rapid throwing) can decrease the overall accuracy of her missiles. While she cannot control their course (following the straight trajectory of the throw), it can be altered via outside means.
Shield Dome: After sacrificing a total of 8 Runestones, Hexarim can summon a protective dome with her at the center. This dome is 8 feet long, and 8 feet tall, andonly lasts for a total of...8 seconds. Or until it's broken. But that doesn't follow the nice eight rule, does it? Nothing can pass through either side while it is up.
Unstable Explosion: Requiring no Runestones at all...Hexarim can decide to let go of her restraint and unleash the full might of her unstable magic. Only Duekallan knows how much damage this will cause. Using this skill can have catastrophic consequences for those involved, and should be used with utmost caution.


Other: She keeps a small sack on each side of her hip, both containing up to 24 Runestones total (12 per sack). Other than this, Hexarim tends to keep parchment and a pen on her for when she needs to write anything down. Or to write Runes onto the stones she picks up.

 

[TheRealAngeloftheStorm]

The Gate of Sordem

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Character Sheet​

"We are what we pretend to be, so we must be careful about what we pretend to be."



Name: Elstoria II 'the Younger' Isorieth

Age: 117

Pronouns: She/Her

Race: Elf

Height: 6'4

Weight: 50kg

Personality:
The face she wears in public is that of a concerned woman, who cares about the commonfolk and strives to better their lot in life through helping them. Under the mask, though, lies a duplicitous liar out only for herself. But to an extent, the mask is part of her. A paradox. She does care about the commonfolk, but it is filtered through her needs and her desires. It is enlightened self-interest - she will help those in need, since assisting them will maintain her position in society and enabling her to pursue her plans in the long run.

Those who are privy to her secrets - of which there is only one - know this.

Background:
Elstoria II ‘the Younger’ Isorieth, as opposed to her mother, called ‘the Elder’, is the sole heir to the House of Isorieth, a relatively young noble bloodline under the shadow of the Elden Tree. Compared to the various Great Houses of Eldencor, the Isorieth line has far little in comparison. The line has had little to do with Eldencor’s affairs at large. As such, House Isorieth has funneled its endeavors into merchant ventures and the accumulation of wealth - something that has propelled it from a minor House within Eldencor to a name known in the upper echelons of the Empire. The point was only further punctuated when the family relocated to Vallenfargo, now the seat of its power and closer to their ventures.

In comparison to her wizened elder, she is a humble servant to the throne. But the idea of watching the world burn rankled at her. Were they not a glorious civilization, so long ago? The decline has been etched into their beings, letting the people of the Empire waste away time in petty scheming. Elstoria only need to look at her mother to see it; the malaise that has dragged the raging flame that burned so very brightly into blackened depths. When the Time of Ending arrived and Sordem arose from the depths of the underworld, civilizations crushed each other to survive the onslaught.

But with the apocalypse averted, the time had come to reclaim what Order had lost. Who better to lead the expeditions than Elstoria? House Isorieth has been steadfast, loyal. Their prodigal daughter has done much to alleviate the suffering of the commonfolk in acts of charity. Not only this, but she is accomplished in war and leadership, fighting in the Time of Ending against Sordem’s hosts. A hero worthy of leading the expedition to reclaim the world!

And yet, this is a lie.

The Threefold Serpent acts only in her own interests. Many elves have already accepted their place in the Empire. The Hydra has not. Perhaps it is greed, perhaps it is that vice of pride; no-one knows but the head of the Serpent. The main financier of Imperial expeditions to unholy Tetan seeks not to expand the domain of Rothdane, but to carve out one for herself. From the rotting carcass of the land that Sordem defiled, she will birth a new nation, free of the throne and the pathetic child that dares call himself Emperor. The coils of the Hydra have already tightened their grip on some of the expeditionary forces. More and more heads sprout, and by the time the Empire finds out about her duplicity, it may already be too late.

After all, to cut off one head of the Hydra will only allow two more to take its place.

Religion:
Completely uncaring of the gods bar Lujadae, as her portfolio includes the seas and tides.

Region:
As the seat of the House of Isorieth has shifted from Eldencor to Vallefargo, this is where she hails from.

Total Mana:
Average. Nothing to speak of.

Magical Affinity:
Dark

Fighting Style:
Never one for out and out fighting, Elstoria prefers misdirection, letting her allies spring traps and divide the enemy to pick them off. She will act through proxies, through daggers in the dark. Pragmatism rules over silly things like 'honor' and 'fair fights', and this is something that she has taken to wholeheartedly. But if push comes to shove and she is forced out of the dark, then she will sally forth without fear.

Skills:
Substitute
Allows Elstoria to swap places with someone of her choosing present around her. More often than not used to save herself from deathblows, or for making quick escapes.

Hydra's Head
Elstoria can take on the appearances of any of her agents - the so called Coils of the Hydra. All that is required of them is that they bear her mark. As it is illusion magic, it can still be dispelled, albeit with some more difficulty than other illusion spells.

Other:
Her personal armament is the Black Blade of Aeneath, the blade wielded by House Isorieth's founding father. Said to have been steeped in the blood of Eldencor's many enemies in a distant, far off age, it can cleave through armor and flesh with shocking ease.​

 

[Xen6n]

The Black Priest
Music

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Character Sheet​

​

Name: Kael Varnae

Age: 50

Pronouns: He/Him

Race: Human

Height: 6′2″ (1.88 m)

Weight: 280 lbs (81.65 kg)

Personality:
Kael is defined by several overpowering personality traits, some of which are at direct odds with one another. What bridges all of it is his confidence. Kael Varnae takes great pride in his ability to depend upon himself for just about anything, and never finds a situation too grim for hope. He's of the disposition to believe that anything can be overcome with sufficient know-how, and his wide variety of skills and resources only bolster this belief in himself. Nothing is ever impossible, and Kael has very little time for anyone who disagrees.

Kael is a very calm, determined individual when he wants something. He's not the type to explode into histrionics, or ever really let anyone get a good bead on how he's feeling -- stiff upper lip and all that. He can be stubborn, but only when he knows he's right, and frankly, he knows he's right 100 of the time. All the same, he's not the type to be goaded into a fight, what with cooler heads prevailing and all. Most attempts to bait him will fail.

Going hand in hand with his lone coyote persona, is the fact that Kael's a very proud individual. He doesn't like to admit that even he needs help sometimes, especially since he's been alone his entire life and made it through a helluva lot without assistance. His pride is what gets him into trouble quite often and it's not until things are dreadfully in danger of going bad does he breaks down and gets the help that he needs.

Kael's trauma, while overpowering, does not define him. Underneath his flaws is a person filled with curiosity, generosity, and an unyielding resolve to conquer his obstacles. His past has taught him the value of humility and compassion, both for himself and for others. Inspiring us to remember that even in the midst of hardship, one can still find strength and bravery to embrace life's uncertainties, Kael's path serves as a tribute to the power of resilience.

Background:
In the depths of a troubled and abusive childhood, a young boy named Kael who lived at the coast of the northernmost part of Fenci bore the burden of aplastic anemia, rendering him unable to access the magical powers that flowed within the bones of his body due to lack of marrow. As he transitioned into adulthood, Kael traveled to Eldencore and became a skilled blacksmith and doctor, channeling his energy into mending physical ailments and forging weapons. However, fate would intervene when he crossed paths with a powerless and crippled demon, shunned and battered by its kin. In an unexpected act of compassion, Kael attempted to save the demon's life, an act that would set him on a path to discovery and redemption.

Driven by an innate sense of empathy, Kael defied convention and extended a helping hand to a demon on the brink of death. Surprised by the human's benevolence, the demon (sensing the abnormality he was born with) in its final moments, bestowed upon Kael a map leading to the mysterious continent of Tyzen—a land cloaked in secrecy and imbued with ancient power.

Journeying to Tyzen, Kael and the remnants of the demon's guidance brought them to an ancient temple, consumed by time and neglect. Inside its crumbling walls, Kael discovered a repository of forgotten scrolls and tomes, containing knowledge that had been lost to the world. The parchments revealed the art of invocation, an arcane practice of harnessing supernatural powers bestowed by higher beings.

As Kael delved deeper into the ancient scrolls, he immersed himself in the intricate rituals and forgotten incantations of invocation. Through rigorous study and unwavering determination, he unearthed the true potential of his spirit, transcending the limitations of his physical ailment. The art of invocation became his lifeline, empowering him to wield magic and channel the supernatural forces that had eluded him in his past.

As Kael honed his skills in invocation in the ruined temples hiding in the mountains, the echoes of chaos resounded across the realm. The gates of hell were flung wide open, unleashing a horde of demons upon the world. Being in close proximity to Tyzen, Kael felt the tremors of the impending disaster. Driven by guilt for his delayed return, he braved the treacherous path back to his home continent, Asherdan, only to find it almost in ruins, infested with demons.

Haunted by the destruction he witnessed, Kael sought solace within the confines of Rothdania, the last bastion of safety amidst the chaos. Determined to make amends for his absence, he pledged to utilize his newfound powers of invocation to defend the remnants of his shattered world. Drawing upon his knowledge and courage, he would join a team to fight alongside fellow warriors, standing firm against the demonic onslaught, and seeking to rebuild what had been lost.

Religion: None. Kale does not worship any gods, but he respects them. At the end of the day, they are the same beings who give him power. Despite this, Kael disagrees with the concept of religion and considers it a waste of time, because in actuality, the gods are as remote as a long-forgotten memory and your life is ultimately up to you.

Region: Northernmost Region of Fenci, would later move to Eldencore for a decade. Traveled and resided in Tyzen for more than a decade and currently stays in Rothdania.

Total Mana: Above-average Mana. If he is to rely on Invocation, having an "above average" pool of mana to draw from is insufficient. He employs a combination of his innate mana reservoir and mystic potential; the inherent spiritual energy that exists within an individual's soul. And Kael has an enormous quantity of spiritual energy that, when combined with his mana, can be exploited and used in an "Equivalent Exchange" with said higher being he invokes.

Magical Affinity: N/A

Fighting Style: Fierce and dangerous in close and distant combat, Kael holds a pair of jade swords tied to lengthy chains that lengthen and abbreviate mystically from around his wrists. He utilized them as his primary weapons in warfare, but he also used them to scale cliffs and other difficult terrain. Kael frequently chooses to employ his magic in combat, but this does not hinder his ability in close combat.

Skills:
Efrits of Gondurr- This spell has the ability to invoke the power of the dark-souled Gondurr, a higher demon who resides in the farthest corners of the Hell Dimension, who's renowned for festering on the souls of his victims, whether its demon, human, spirit, whatever they may be. The spell unleashes the shredded souls who had been victims of Gondurr's wrath, sending forth the damned souls in a concentrated blast toward Kael’s target. When the target is struck by the spell, the target's soul is mutilated, and the target is subjected to excruciating anguish to the point where most beings would pass out from the agony. This does not destroy the target's soul; rather, it mutilates or tortures it in order for it to feel great anguish. This is merely a temporary phase. The spell can also cause physical harm to its target by behaving like a potent concussive blast.

The "Barriers of Betura" (also known as Betura's Great Barrier or Betura's Defense Spell) is a spell that invokes Betura, the goddess of the sun, life, angels, and hope, to conjure a mystical barrier that can only surround the caster, protecting them from both mystical and physical harm. It's especially powerful against demonic attacks (since she's a goddess of angels, and angels are the polar opposite of demons), and when struck, it releases a flash of divine energy that briefly stuns anyone malicious near it. It is less effective against physical harm, yet it is still a formidable shield.

Sapphire Bands of Stor'aahn- The Sapphire Bands of Stor'aahn is a spell that invokes the power of Stor'aahn, once a grand sorcerer who was infamous for their unrivaled ability to bind almost anything, especially spirits. The spell conjures blue ribbons of mystical energy to bind an opponent. This spell is notably weak when compared to higher-level spells such as the Crimson Bands of Cyt'turak. This spell, however, shines when used against spirits and other incorporeal entities.

Other:
(Attire)


Jaded Chain Swords- These chain-flail blades were crafted by Kael himself during his time in Tyzen when the gates of hell were opened, crafted in rare metals and the bones of mystical creatures, it is capable of withstanding the strongest of magical blows. This weapon has saved him when his magic had failed, keeping him alive in the most treacherous of situations.

 

[Deepfish]

The Master of the Deadly Paw

Music
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Character Sheet​

Name: Daikyo Matatabi

Age: 26yrs

Pronouns: He/Him/Sir

Race: Beastman/Mountain Lion

Height: 6ft 4in

Weight: 212lbs

Personality: if Stubborn dedication were a person apparently it would have whiskers claws and a tail. Because Daikyo is likely the most stubborn person you will ever meet, even if the world itself tells him something is impossible he will go above and beyond to find a loophole, but one achieved through hard work and endless training. No matter what the problem may be he will suggest you hone yourself and overcome the challenge fate has placed in your path. Never will you find him mourning his losses, only using them to find weaknesses that he can eliminate. Many think him a hopeful optimist but that isn’t exactly accurate, he says his creed even when he doesn’t believe it, hoping that the mantra’s will encourage him to carry on. One who looks closely can see his exhaustion, not physically mind you, but emotionally and mentally he has been carrying the hearts of his people as best as he can, but while he would never admit it, it is a very heavy burden, what do you tell the cub that has lost her mother, how does one comfort the lioness who has lost her mate? All his work and effort seems dedicated towards helping those around him get through his day, but he himself has allowed no one to be that for him. He is the Rock of the Matatabi, he cannot crack, he WILL NOT crack. Ironically his people are all waiting for him to do exactly that, and each one knows its coming one day, they do not judge him, they simply wait and ready themselves to hold their hero together. While daikyo comes from a peaceful people, he has apparently lost that peace and acts overprotectively towards the matatabi especially the Cubs. He is a Beast man who not only carries heavy responsibilities, he defines himself by them, as the last master of paws he carries a part of his peoples culture and history with him and he takes this very seriously.

Background: Between the Two Hadia’s there is a small island in the shallow eastern waters between the two continents. This island has been home to the Feline beast-man tribes for millennia now and is said to be their place of origin. For centuries it was ruled by the Nintabi clans with the Matatabi Clans being one of three subsidiary clans, Along side the Sarutabi & Rukaitabi. Each clan was known for their own religious traditions which had shaped their clans day to day life. The Matatabi were the only whose worship rituals revolved around a Fallen god, and due to this they were misunderstood and often mistreated but it was not unbearably so, the laws the clans had agreed too ensured that even though they might not agree on everything they could peacefully coexist. At least while the laws were followed.

Slowly but surely the peace began to deteriorate as suspicion rose, the Nintabi clan would encourage the others to persecute the Matatabi, it was small at first, Slurs and Unfair bartering, general disdain and disrespect. Eventually it became more severe, appropriating their property and homes, denying them access to markets and public settings. When the Matatabi were deemed a “threat” to the others way of life they were disarmed and it was made illegal for them practice their rituals in any public place. It was at this point that the Ritualistic Dances of the Matatabi were altered, becoming the Empty-handed martial arts that are passed down today. It was nearly a hundred years ago when the Matatabi Rose up against their unfair treatment, Driving the other three clans away from the island and claiming the entire thing as theirs. While this day was marked with ceremony and celebrated as a victory, perhaps it was a false victory. Many theorize that the combined Skills of the four Tabi clans Would have stood a much better chance against the hordes when they finally arrived.

Daikyo was born 99 years after the Island was taken by the matatabi and during this period his people were thriving. Their defensive arts had evolved to incorporate magic as well as their own physical prowess and will power. As a cub Daikyo would idolize his father and his elder brother who had both become masters of the are and were renown as the greatest guardians of the matatabi. Before he had grown his first orange hair he had learned all the traditional dance moves that served as a foundation for their defensive arts. Yet as driven by admiration as he was Daikyo never really shone as brightly as he could. He was still distracted by the whimsical peace his people had enjoyed for so long, being strong mattered less than having his form poised, strengthening his willpower took a backseat to running around with his friends and no one would have had it any other way, after all peace was reigning and children deserved to have their innocence. Luckily by the time hell broke he had already begun to take things a bit more seriously.

It was your usually peaceful day when the strange boats began to make shore. There were no envoys sent and no attempt made to communicate so the guardians began to gather and prepare for the worst. At this time Daikyo was a Zero Sash Guardian. Meaning he was still earning his first Sash, so he was tasked with guarding the Elders and Cubs. Meanwhile the One to three sash guardians would protect fhe village itself. Four sashes and above were going to meet the invaders. Except for Daikyo’s brother Souishin, who was given the important task of climbing the islands lone mountain and taking the Sacred Scrolls which held the instructions of all the clan’s rituals, arts, And magics. With each warrior in their place Daikyo was convinced that he would never even have a chance to see battle after all his father was going to meet the threat head on, surely it couldn’t push past such an encounter. Yet the alarms eventually rang out through the town announcing the breaching of the line. The village defenders went to their positions and the Zero Sash guardians were ordered to get the Elders and Cubs into the Canoes and fishing boats on shore. Shaken as he was he did his duty, the cubs were kept safe, the elders wisdom helped the zero sashes stay grounded. Even still they were not spared the fires of war.

The secondary alarms would ring out, signaling the fall of the gates, and all remaining guardians would flood to the town center to make their final stand. Daikyo saw his people giving their lives against horrific beings he couldn’t have imagined in his wildest dreams. Though he was only 16, and most certainly was terrified, he still did his duty. Swallowing the lump in his throat he would stand with the other zero years guarding the south gates as those who could not fight fled to the boats. Daikyo even managed to save an elder from an incoming projectile that looked like a red barbed arrow. Eventually he began to see the backs of his fellow guardians, a few were even Five and Four sash warriors, their Gi’s were torn and their breathing ragged with bloody patches of fur dotting their bodies. He looked for his father, but instead saw his brother, bleeding profusely, barbs in his back, and Burnt fur, but the pack on his back with the scrolls in them showed that he had succeeded in his mission. When his brother arrived he was to take command of the zero sash guardians and did exactly that, ordering them to fall back to the boats so as to cover the boats setting sail. They did just that, retreating even as the remaining guardians gave their lives to give them enough time.

As the boats left the shore the village finally fell, its back wall collapsing as the hordes closed in. The Zero Sash guardians were about to taste battle, as the demonic swarms crashed upon them like a wave. Daikyo was able to turn aside the first attacker, but the second pushed him off balance, earning a clawed kick for his troubles, the third knocked him flat, and he found himself on his back clawing for his life as they attempted to impale him and drag him away. The Other Zero sashes seemed to be fairing just as well with, their line having shattered in under a minute, but it was just long enough for the last boats to leave. Daikyo watched the last children leap onto and swim to the boat and he resigned to his fate. This was it, he would die here having given his life beside his brothers. Yet before the spears could find his body a tan blur would streak in and shatter the spear tip, swipe the hoards away and scoop daikyo off of the beach. A satchel was stuffed in his arms before a kick caught him in the gut and sent him sailing into unconsciousness.

When he came too, he was told how his brother came in when he was just about to perish and pulled him out of the jaws of hell, casting him onto the boat before turning to face the hordes as the last being between them and the water. For a few short but glorious minutes, he was a godly invincible hero. The weapons thrust towards him were shattered, enemy heads batted off with a well placed kick. Truly a perfect representation of the dance of destruction. But more importantly in his final act he had cast both the sacred scrolls, and the last Dancing Guardian, even if it was just a Zero Sash. As the last guardian he had a duty to his people, the elders would oversee his training for the next five years as he honed his arts to earn the five Sashes. On the sixth year he would add his own Step to the Dance of the Iron Fur, to the Sacred scroll. From there he would spend the next four years training a new generation of guardians, even those who were not Natural born matatabi and were married in got to train in the sacred arts. In the end he would Leave his status as a trainer when another was elevated to five sashes and they could take over. He now stands as the Master Guardian, Filling the shoes his father once did but feeling as though he is in way over his head. Now the elders have a deal with the nation that offered them refugee status, they must contribute to the war effort, and Daikyo was selected to be the one to lead the guardians to war. Two hundred young Warriors, Each of whom he trained and selected personally. The Elders have asked daikyo how he feels about his, and he admits that while he knows they are ready he has never been so afraid, even as his people fell. Then it wasnt him leading them to die, he was following orders and saving lives, the same is not true here and he understands that he might very well be taking the very children he saved to their demise.

Religion: Matatabi Dancers of Destruction -A small religious sect withing the beastman clans of the matatabi, these people praise the ideals of what Kalarei represented before the fall, seeing the fall itself as a lesson of what pride, unpreparedness,and a lack of Willpower gets you. Centuries ago this Religion was heavily persecuted to the point of near extinction, being forbidden from using weapons they would combine their dancing rituals with empty handed skills to create one of the most graceful and dangerous unarmed fighting styles on the planet. Going on to liberate themselves from opression and topple the Nintabi Kingdom. They are wanderers and rebels at heart, with a strong sense of justice and a firm belief in and willingness to defend sentient rights.

Region: The Small island between the Hadian continents, now they live in the Cordis countryside, in a refugee camp set up by their elders and the cordis leadership.

Total Mana: Average

Magical Affinity: Darkness

Fighting Style: The Matatabi have multiple fighting styles (see skills), all of which reject the concept of weapons, and adhere to a strict principle of either friendly Competition, or Quickly destroying the enemy so as to avoid injury. There are three styles, each one having a Friendly, and Deadly Stance.

Skills:
Dance of destruction- The martial arts of the Matatabi have three styles with Two gears each. The first gear or Competition Level combat, is purely physical martial arts and is very carefully controlled so as to minimize injury and allow for long term sparring. The second gear is the Lethal arts, in which the user will activate the magical runes on their sashes and channel a mixture of Mana and Stamina they call Chi allowing for their arts true hidden power to be released.

Dance of the Soft Paws- A Defensive stance where enemy blows are turned away with force applied from the side and defeats are achieved through submissions and grapples. In the Competitive form a master is said to be able to force a man to kiss the ground without any harm coming of them, or choke a foe into unconsciousness without them being hurt. Wide force dispersing palm strikes and kicks can force foes off balance or push them back without much actual impact damage. In the Deadly form, blows can be redirected into the attacker, submissions turn into dislocations and breaks. And the Force transfering wide blows become sharp deep striking blows capable of rupturing organs. With Chi applied to a Strike, one can snap the spine of a foe with a punch in the chest, or dislocate the Hip with a kick to the shoulder. This stance is notoriously hard to predict and thus difficult to defend against.

Dance of the Shadow Claw- A Obscuring Stance that uses stealth, flowing motion, and Sleight of hand to hide the single strike “kill”. In the competitive stance, the user will attempt to disarm and land a soft blow with the claws retracted. This blow is usually in a vital area that would kill the foe in a single strike. While it usually requires the knowledge of a foe’s anatomy to be fully used to its potential, even unknown targets will be bothered by strikes to the Eyes, ears, nose, and whatever they may breathe with. The Fatal stance is vastly more destructive, the user will throw their hands and feet at blinding speeds with their Runes active and producing illusionary afterimages. They will use these to distract and confuse their foes while lining up a piercing strike with their claws drawn (the cliche hand through the enemy anime trope). This stance is part of the reason why the clan is considered dishonorable as they will appear to be coming for a friendly/surrendering embrace and then drive a claw into someones heart.

Dance of the Iron Fur- As the name would imply this stance is a defensive one with a focus on using the flat, blunt, and mass filled parts of the body to overpower their foes. The competitive stance will use elbow strikes and palms to block punches but aiming to turn them aside, body presses, shoulder charges, and invasive movement keep the opponent from mustering enough leverage to deliver powerful strikes with Lariots, drop kicks, and Slams being the incapacitating moves. It is similar enough to the soft paw stance that a master of One is a master of the other, in the competitive stances at least thus the two competitive stances share the same sash which is why only five sashes exist. When the runes are active and their chi starts flowing is when the differences become apparent. Catching a Blow or turning it aside becomes Elbowing it hard enough to shatter stone, the slams and body presses become devestating as the Magical hardened fur becomes Razor sharp needles, attacks switch from direct blows to glancing ones made to set up the next one allowing them to shred foes incredibly quickly.

Other: Daikyo Matatabi and his clan have the demeanor of the Jedi from star wars, but Daikyo is more aggressive than the previous masters and is driven in part by his hatred of the demonic forces. This hatred manifests often when he is using the lethal styles as his “chi” is Like a black aura and his personality shifts to be more bloodthirsty. Elders worry he may be slowly becoming corrupted.

Spoiler: Lethal style theme

(May change)

 

[ThatWhichShouldBe]

THE SAINT OF SWORDS
[Theme Song]

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HOYUN, THE BLADELESS​

​

Name: Hoyun

Age: 22

Pronouns: He/Him

Race: Human

Height: 6' 6

Weight: 200 lbs

Spoiler: Personality

“Remember, oh student, this above all other laws: the grip of a sword is suffused with a deep and powerful poison that rots to the bone. It can never be rid of once touched, no matter how much you wish otherwise.”
- Ryo Ten Ryam, on Sword Law

If asked to describe himself, Hoyun would say he is an easy-going, resourceful young man with a penchant for mockery and banter. If he could, he would breeze through life like fog drifting across the surface of a lake, serene and joyful. He takes great relish in trying new foods, and eats heartily. As a child, he was often hungry, and so he tries to make up for it now. When confronted with a new place, he can take on an almost childlike demeanor as he seeks to explore it and see all its wonders and sights.

But still, he is a swordsman, and he is no stranger to bloodshed. Underneath his smiling demeanor is a lingering sense of regret. There have been times when he has been forced to use his blade against his desires otherwise. ‘Civilian’ life will, at times, sit... ill with him, and he subconsciously keeps his hands close to the handle of his sword at all times. When he kills, his hands are steady, and although he might hope otherwise, he is not at all shaken or disturbed, no matter how gory the blow. Hoyun has become too familiar with the sword to be anything but an old friend to death. He has asked himself, more than once, whether he is too far gone, if he is no longer someone capable of relinquishing a life of violence. He hopes not. He prays not.

Spoiler: Background

Hoyun was a street child in one of the great cities of Tetan. He grew up learning to do odd jobs, scavenging the waste bins of the High Districts for pieces of scrap, and fleeing whenever things would get dicey. He was fast and he was quick, but one day, he was not fast and quick enough. It was just another murder in the city, but he’d seen it, and so he was cornered by a group of thugs in an alleyway.

It was the end for him. He prepared to die, closing his eyes. He whispered prayers under his breath even as they closed, right up until he heard a voice. Hoyun opened his eyes to see the gangsters turning about, glaring at an interloper. The intruder was a portly old woman, dressed in layers upon layers of clothing, holding a broken sword. At her neck hung a begging bowl on a loop of beads. Distantly, Hoyun recognizes her garb. A Mendicant Knight.

The old woman asked the gangsters a single question.

“What do you think about Death?”

It was all over in a handful of heartbeats. The old woman moved faster than he could see, and the Gangsters were all ghosts before their heads slipped off their shoulders. Once she stopped moving, Hoyun realized the sword she was using… was broken. There was barely any blade at all, a mere 3 inches of the weapon remaining. The old woman introduced herself as Mathangi Ten Meti, and offered him a proverb for his troubles.

“If you should ever meet God on the Road”, she spoke serenely, “Kill him.”

Before the old master departed, Hoyun begged her to teach him how to wield a sword, how to fight as she had. He knelt before her and pressed his head to the ground, pleading for her tutelage. She deliberated on this for a moment, and shook her head.

“A sword is an ugly piece of metal,” the old woman explained with great patience, “and all its adherents idiots. I am, unfortunately, one of these idiots. You, however, can be much more than an idiot. You are still young.”

But Hoyun insisted, and the great master relented. She asked him to bring forth a piece of paper, readily found in one of the dead gangster’s belongings, and brought forth a brush, inkstone, and well. Upon it, Mathangi ten Meti wrote her teacher’s sword manual. It was astonishingly short, taking up only the two sides of the paper. The old swordswoman explained that if he learned the contents of the manual, truly understood it in his heart and soul, then Hoyun would be a better swordsman than she could ever be. She then picked up the broken sword of one of the gangsters and handed it to him, explaining that if he understood the contents of the manual, then all he would ever need in a battle… was this little piece of broken metal.

Hoyun grasped the piece of paper like it was gold, and devoured the contents, committing it to memory. And he became very confused. The closing lines of the brief preface exhorted him to become a farmer, of all things. It was profoundly unclear and unintuitive in its instructions in one line, and yet detailed the foundations of swordsmanship exactly in the next. Hoyun nodded in gratitude towards the old woman anyways, and took the piece of paper with him as he went home. He meditated upon it. Hoyun performed exercises as the manual described, and pondered its meaning, and practiced with the broken sword for hours on end. Weeks turned to months. Months to years.

Though the old master never imagined it would occur, Hoyun indeed began to understand the contents of Meti’s Sword Manual, comprehending the only written instruction left by one of the greater swordmasters the world had ever known.

Is it monstrous talent?

Is it simple luck?

The only certainty is that Hoyun has stepped from mundanity, into legend.

Religion: None.

Region: Tetan.

Total Mana: NONE. He is magically dry.

Magical Affinity: NONE. All he does is with pure mastery of the blade alone.

Fighting Style: Seemingly, all he has is a broken sword. But do not be deceived. He is a swordsman without compare, for he needs no blade to cut. He will cleave through flesh and bone with a single swing of his broken blade, and a whisper of death carried on a fell breeze.

Spoiler: Skills

Transcendent Sword: "Consider, there is no such thing as a sword."
Given any object that Hoyun can wield like a sword, it will behave like a sword. A wooden stick will cut flesh and parry metal blades. A fan held in the hand will decapitate. A mere sword-hilt will slice through bone and stop blows, even though they seem to only be striking air. It’s as if he projects an invisible blade out from them. This effect only lasts for the duration of a single ‘motion’, so he can’t ‘maintain’ these invisible blades for long. The blades are impossibly sharp, and he can project them out to a distance of up to twenty meters away from what he’s using as a ‘handle’. And as these blades are of his iron will, of course, so too can they cut magic and cleave through ephemera, allowing him to contest with sorcerous wonders with steel and skill.
Aside from this impossible swordsmanship, Hoyun is also more traditionally skilled with a sword as a matter of innate mastery. He is a true master of the fighting arts, and can deflect incoming projectiles with precise parries, blocks, and slashes. His style is based on an incredible mastery of the fundamentals rather than any specific special techniques. Simplicity is its strength. That being said, he can apply the same principles to just hand-to-hand martial arts, with great success. With a fingernail, he can cut through bone and sever steel. Little more must be said of its brutal effectiveness on his foe’s bodies.

The Killing Eye: "To know a thing is to be able to kill it."
His perception of the world goes far beyond sight and sound. His ‘sixth sense’ is so finely honed to the point that even without being able to see or hear them, he can sense the location of objects and effects around them and how they are moving, along with ‘killing intent’ from those in the area and who it is directed at. This effect extends out about one hundred meters around him. If you were to blind and deafen Hoyun, it certainly would not be a guarantee that you could take him in a fight.

Thought-Body Technique: "The body follows the mind. Free the mind, and your body will move as the wind moves."
Hoyun is capable of feats of agility and dexterity that beggar belief. Walking on smoke, jumping onto leaves that are being carried through the wind, running across water and more, all these things he is fully capable of. This also allows him to achieve truly ridiculous bursts of speed. This skill does consume a considerable amount of stamina to use for any truly extended periods of time, however.

Other:
A humble steel sword, the blade snapped off two inches above the hilt.