Fantasy Banners & Blood - Characters

[WlfSamurai]

Banners & Blood Characters

READ FIRST - RP RULES:

1. Respect RPN site rules
2. Respect other players and their characters
3. No god-moding, auto-hitting, etc. You are in control of your character and no one else's. You write your attack/action and then it is up the the player of targeted character if/how it lands/hits or how they react.
4. NPCs and enemies are controlled by me, the GM, unless I specify otherwise. If you want to play a previously NPC, you may ask but I reserve the right to say no.
5. Play is emergent. That means, things emerge as we play. Things like facts about the world, relationships, events, or experiences of your character. They are all up for grabs to be established during play. Make it up as you go. But if something is established already, it's concrete unless we can decide as a group if a change makes sense.
6. Please be active. That means more than one post per week. If you start to fall behind, I'll reach out to you and we can discuss.
7. Please write at least one paragraph, five lines ore more, for a post. And push the story forward as you do.
8. If you wish to play more than one character, talk to me so we can discuss it.

The Character sheet:

When I "like" your sheet, it is approved for play.

Name:
Age:
Race: (Allowed races: Aasimar, Dwarf, Elf, Gnome, Half-elf, Half-orc, Halfling, Human, Teifling. For others, ask first. If you're unsure what these are, ask.)
Look: (What you look like. Includes gender if applies. Pictures are nice, but not required.)
Class: (Make one up, if you like, but it's recommended to stick to Fantasy Character Classes.)

Personality: (Including 3 strengths and 3 weaknesses.)

Weapons & Armor: (What do you fight with?)
Skills & Abilities: (Non-magical abilities the character has.)
Spells & Magic: (Spells and magical abilities that the character has.)

History: (Choose at least one other character and describe a time you worked together.)
Background: (Optional. About your character's past. Can emerge during play or not at all.)

 

[Teh Frixz]

Name: Iiolete van Rutthe

Age: 25

Race: Aasimar

Look: Middle child in a large family, Iiolete sticks out like a sore thumb. A family under a middling lord, her lineage would suggest a swarthy thick build, her ancestry rooted to the Mediterranean shores of the Southlands. Instead Iiolete is a tall blonde, almost sculpted, figure that seems to radiate otherworldly femininity. Many outright question her relations to the dark haired members of her family but no evidence of adultery by her mother existed and her birth was highly publicized in her fief. Since little explanation was discovered, public consensus deemed her 'God Touched' and a visible half-child of some Deity.

Spoiler

Class: Powder Hunter: A rare blend of magics, technologies, and skill, Powder Hunters are those that take up the new arsenal of Firearms. It is with these Firearms and light but specialized armors that the Powder Hunters track down and kill both Beast and Man.

Personality: Iiolete is commonly called behind her back a 'Fallen' God Touched. One that has purposefully strayed away from their Celestial path. Not out of any evil inclination but more so the learned urge to rebel away from fate.

Seraphic: Despite her efforts, Iiolete comes off as an angel. Her words are sonorous, her movement flowing, and light seems to play off her like a spark of the divine. Personality wise, there is an almost irksome urge to consistently do good. But why should she? Those of the infernal bloodline are given to evil and seen as strong by throwing off their blood shackles, why is it the opposite for her?

Experimental: Iiolete is given to a predilection for the new and untested. New stratagem, new technology, new drinks, new foods, new languages, new places! It's all there for the taking. Some of it may be wrong or foolish but in the end, the benefit outweighs the cost. Iiolete will never say no to a new experience.

Deceptive: Despite the upfront and honest portrayal Iiolete seems to embody, She is really quite deceptive and playing a deeper game than she lets on. Commonly lying, fibbing, and portraying situations to her benefit, Iiolete has a silver tongue under the angelic visage.

Escapist: There are ways out, always. Fate is a lie and there are always options to take besides the most obvious one laid out for you. This is Iioltete's belief and be it true or false, it's something she sticks to.

Imprudent: The ends justify the means, so much so that Iiolete doesn't even think of the ends half the time. Her plans are by no means non-comprehensive but they tend to ignore the collateral damage she could inflict or what sort of 'food chain' or political web she could end up destabilizing.

Venal: Greed is a driving factor for Iiolete but in particular she enjoys the thrill of being bribed. Coins flow no smoother and sound no sweeter than when they come attached to a simple tasks or looking the other way.



Weapons & Armor:

Espirit Rifle Chassis: Developed by the renowned tinkering pair of Chaufane & Drewer, the Espirit is the latest in a series of prototype 'Chassis' for those with a taste for such things. Consisting of a cuirass, helmet and left arm, the device amplifying skill in stabilizing Firearms, tracking, and movement through terrain. Armed with a suite of gadgets to help the wearer survive any sort of situation, this particular model is powered by harvesting latent energies found emanating from those touched by planar ancestry.

Westchester Arms Artificed Rifle: Carefully hand crafted for the avid, multipurpose hunter, the WAAR is a long barreled, hammer fired rifle that is any powder hunter's dream. With an easy swap barrel for different ammunition types, built in self leveraging stock, dovetail scope mounting system and reinforced dampers, the WAAR rifle is the standard in excellence for any field rifle usage.

Spoiler

Skills & Abilities:

The Operator: Like a surgeon, Iiolete plans out her hunts to the nth degree. She doesn't like going in not taking advantage of everything possible. Ammunition, Barrels, traps, position, all done to perfection through constant work.

Natural Advantages: Having been on lengthy hunts with multiple guides, it's impossible to not pick up on tricks of the trade. Tracking, flora and & fauna and even the smell in the air are all signals Iiolete can read.

Experimental Technician: Exposed to a network of tinkerers, mad scientists, and engineers, Iiolete has some skill with the newfangled modern technologies and can often jerry rig broken equipment or pick up on how new things she encounters work.

Spells & Magic:

God-Touched: Iiolte was born of some sort of Celestial intervention and her blood, as well as her body show up when one searches for such things. She radiates 'positive' energy constantly that can actually be harnessed by the proper equipment and small animals/cute creatures are drawn to her presence.

History:

Voxi - Iiolete had rolled into town, her wagon full of gear in tow. No sooner than she got unloaded than in slipped the Elf Voxi who provided some monetary incentive to throw an impromptu show for the town. Iiolete setup and shot nearly a hundred barrels filled with powder, explosions echoing on into the night. How the bank that night was broken into, the earth exploded underneath, Iiolete had no idea!

Faythe - Marten fur, not some cheap dilly dally of wool or some sort of game fur but a marten. It was hard enough to take down easily without ruining the fur in the process but nooo Fatyhe had to make a rukus and take up all day while Iiolete tried to sell it. That feline thing got it eventually and made a couple good points but Iiolete would remember this.

Background: Middle child in a large semi-noble family, the Head of House, Brakus van Rutthe was blessed with a considerable fortune after his father unearthed multiple veins of precious metal on their once worthless land. Even the now coveted 'Earth Ichor' flows freely beneath the van Rutthe estate. This allowed the family to expand their powerbase and build up the village on their land into a large Town, complete with merchant guilds and faction outposts. Rutthe's Promise it is called, still rough around the edges but wealth continues to flow into the Town.

Raised in a neavuo-riche fashion, Iiolte was always an object of curiosity. Like gold being brought up out the muck of the van Rutthe estate, she seemingly popped out of the homely bloodline. Throghout her life, this was pointed out to her repeatedly and in order to avoid that sort of talk, Iiolete became very enamored with the rougher aspects of van Rutthe living. Wandering inside factories and working with smiths, she gained a fondness for forming metal into usable objects and in particular the new science of Powder. A black explosive powder that promised a new era in the rising Human Empire.

The other great love she developed in the van Rutthe tradition was hunting, and the two seemed to go hand in hand with the van Rutthe lands soon depleting as Iiolete and her siblings brought back larger and larger trophies. A mini arms race began within the family as they began building up their own private arsenals.

As the race continued on, a revelation struck Iiolete. Hunting for sport was all well but now she realized she had the skill and equipment to hunt for coin as well. And all throughout the Empire, Human and other, there was a need to clear the lands for safe passage and habitation as well as she'd helped clear her own homeland.

With the grace of her family, despite the loss of a political marriage card, Iiolete struck out into the world, riding the roads and stalking the countryside for coin and fame.

 

[Grammatic]

-Name: Tanner Smith
-Age: 32
-Race: Human
-Look: Tanner looks like a man beyond his years, despite his true age. What little of his brown hair that can be seen under the hood is streaked with pure white strands. He is clean shaven, showing off numerous scars across his face from countless injuries sustained over the course of his career. When he is not his usual hunched over self, he stands at exactly six feet in height, with a thin build that hides his surprising strength and speed. Sharp, piercing green eyes are always darting across the environment he is in, never missing a detail.

(Clothing)

(Under the hood)

-Class: Ranger Class

Personality: Tanner is a quite man, rarely speaking in public around strangers, unless he is incredibly drunk. He is always calculating what his best options are in any given situation, and many regard his demeanor as cold, lifeless. He is an outstanding archer, always carrying a bow and full quiver with him at all times. He is talented swordsman, though he would much rather prefer to refrain from getting that close to his opponent. Finally, he is a master of stealth and subterfuge, able to enter heavily guarded locations without anyone being the wiser, and leaving, often with much of their ale in his stomach.

Sadly, Tanner is sort of an alcoholic. He drinks constantly, whatever he can get his hands on usually. This sometimes dulls his reaction time, and clouds his judgement. The alcohol also is used to help him deal with his leg, which is constantly in pain. If anyone pays close enough attention to him, which he hates, they will notice a slight limp to his movement. This injury slows him, and prevents him from doing some of the tasks he did in his youth. Finally, Tanner is not a man that comes to trust others easily. His profession demands such separation, as anyone could be an enemy. This leads him to not working well with others, and will often never divulge his plans, or even lash out at them when they draw too close.

-Weapons and Armor: Tanner wears leather armor, rather than the more traditional metal variants. He prefers the mobility the lighter armor gives him, and the minor protection it does give if his foe is fast enough to catch him. The only metal he wears is his arm guard, which he will often use as a club if all else fails. He also is armed with a longbow, finely crafted by Tanner himself several years ago, and has since saved his life countless times. Lastly, he carries an assortment of knives and a short sword, of little note. His most prized possession though is his cloak. It is enchanted, allowing him to blend in much better with his environment than what he could normally be able to.

-Skills and Abilities: As a Ranger, Tanner is a phenomenal archer. He can hit a target at incredible distances with ease, or destroy several targets in a matter of moments up close. He can move without being seen or heard if he wants to, from years of harsh and brutal training. From years of experience, Tanner is a strong drinker, and can hold far more ale than a man his size should be able to, and not feel the effects. He has some understanding of medical practices, and can perform rudimentary medical help in the field.

-Magic: As a matter of principle, Tanner tries to stay away from magic. The only spell he uses regularly is a spell of concealment, making him become nothing better than a shadow for short periods of time. He also has minor ability to control wind currents, allowing him to change them with great concentration to aid the flight of his arrows.

-History:
Ash: Their paths crossed a long time ago, their missions just so happening to link up. A few drinks in between, a minor scuffle, and Tanner came face to face with the Lady Capper as he called her. Words and prisoners were exchanged, and ways were parted.
Finch: Despite his prestigious skills in the field of hunting, some prey can elude even him. When all else failed, Tanner sought out a local known for his tracking abilities to help him track down the beast that had killed many people in a nearby village. he was impressed enough to leave a Token of Unity with the lad, marking him as a friend to the entire Ranger organization.
Faythe: Tanner is not a subtle man. To achieve his goals, the life of the innocent sometimes has to be sacrificed. Such a thing is common knowledge among the Rangers, though it has led to conflict. From numerous encounters with Faythe, Tanner has fought these conflicts, with both sides emerging the victor from one time to another.
Cassandra Weaver: Wizards weren't generally in expertise of the Rangers, and so when orders came down from above, Tanner needed to draft whatever help he could find. With an old accomplice, Tanner tracked down the Wizard and wounded him, though saving the life of a young elf kept him from finishing off his target.

-Background: Tanner was chosen to become a Ranger at a young age, stolen from his family in the night to undergo the harsh training regime needed to create their kind. Taken to the Academy, he was advanced language understanding, tactical principles, and tracking. He was forced to fight the other Initiates at the Academy, honing his combat skills at the expense of others, and receiving numerous injuries himself. On graduation day, he faced his final opponent, another Initiate in the Reckoning. As is law, only one Initiate could emerge alive from the Reckoning, and so at the age of twelve, Tanner took his first life.

He was then assigned to the outskirts of the realm, where he learned on the field skills, archery among them. He was used as a tool to track down the threats that plagued the realm, rooting them out and slaughtering them without hesitation or regret. By the time he became a full Ranger and went off on his own, the number of bodies behind him had grown too large to count. He has made a name for himself across the realm, ending threats that others couldn't protecting those that had been abandoned by their friends and realm, and conquering every tavern that got in his path.

Numerous adventures and journeys have finally led him to Oakheart, one of his favored drinking holes. To his annoyance, what was supposed to be a simple relaxing visit is starting to shape up to be his next task.

 

[Ronan]

Alias: Bloody Ash.
Age: Physically thirty years old.
Race: Wraith, but a wraith of what?
Look: If "beauty" was a living being, then Ash was it- the definition of beauty. Her hair is thin and silver, held into a ponytail with a bow. Her lashes and brows are thick. She has dimpled cheeks, only apparent when she offers a rare smile. Her face has a few sun spots- some on the centre of her cheeks, others around her deep, green eyes. If her eyes were a scrying mirror, they be a forest. Not the forest of spring, but the forest of night- all-illusive and all-encompassing. Her outfit choice is masculine. She wears mens' waistcoats and cravats, paired with slim black pants and swashbuckler boots. On her cravat she wears a brooch and on her head is a black tricorne cap. It's no wonder that men and women fawn over her; a feminine face, and masculine physique. And finally, Ash is tall, standing at 180cm (or 5'11")- another physicality that has her easily mistaken for a man.

Spoiler: Ash's appearance.

Class: Corsair / duelist.

Personality: As the commander of a ship, Ash is required to be clear-headed and that trait alone sets her apart from other commanders. She has a firm grip on her emotions at all times: never too angry, never too happy, or too upset. It's a saturated shade of emotional depth. If there is an issue, she examines it as a whole and solves it in the most effective and beneficial way possible making her a leader. Ash listens to her crew (even if she disagrees), and places their safety first and foremost. No voyage or undertaking is worth risking lives for, especially with many of them having families to return to. For that, she is respected. Very few openly oppose Ash and if they do, they are quick to regret it. Ash is frighteningly dominating when challenged or disobeyed. Herla, her dwarven quartermaster, shares stories of how Ash made some abandon ship out of sheer terror of objecting her. That gets crew members in line quick.

If people outside of the Forty Elephants think a dominating woman is "boyish", then her blunt attitude has offended many. Ash speaks as is- the whole truth, even if it's harsh and hurtful. It's not that Ash is intentionally mean, no- if anything, she can't lie. She refuses to lie. It is a personal choice to remain truthful at all times, even if it hurts another or herself. And if for any reason she is unable to reveal the truth, she will dodge the topic rather than outright lie.

For that, you could say Ash is protective. As written above, Ash does not share her emotions, but she is protective. There is no reason for unnecessary deaths or failures, and if she can save someone, she will do it- often at her own expense. Another reason why her crew respects her. Ash treats them as her equal and not as people working in her service. She pays them well and the Forty Elephants is clean and well-kept and Ash listens. What more could a crew want but work they enjoy? Their lives are valued. But there is one thing that has made them wonder. One thing that contradicts everything that she is- or seems to be. Ash is religious. She shares bits and pieces of her faith, but no one knows what kind of faith it is or what lies hidden in the captain's room on the Forty Elephants. Herla suspected Ash to be royalty; no woman obtains that much money or has such a stature without secrets. But now, he's not so sure. As long as Ash's faith doesn't interfere with their work, he won't ask questions. Her faith, her backstory, her true character will remain left in the dark.

• [ + Leader, Clear-headed, Protective.]
• [ - Blunt, Dominating, Religious. ]

Weapons & Armour: Ash wields a versatile weapon capable of splitting into two. The top part becomes a rapier and the bottom a gladius. With it, she fights with two hands and if she wants, she can put the hilts of her gladius and rapier together to make a double-bladed glaive. The weapon itself is ornate; thin and perfectly polished and finished with metallic weavings and engravings both on the hilt and bottom of the blade.

Spoiler: Ash's rapier.

Skills & Abilities: Ash is easily the fastest sword-wielder that has ever walked the land. She is dexterous, light on her feet, and moves her rapier effortlessly through danger. As she plunges her sword into one foe, she's already plunging it into the next before they hit the ground. For that, she has earned her namesake of Bloody Ash. As another leverage to par her with magic-wielders, Ash is well-read with a pseudo-library of the world in her head, making her an invaluable tool and source of knowledge. If Ash is only thirty years old, then how does she have centuries of knowledge beyond what a human or a "thirty" year old can obtain?

Spells & Magic: Ash has no "magic", but one thing is for sure: she can't bleed. No matter how many gashes she receives, she will never bleed. Herla wonders if it's magic or something else- something inherently part of her.

Character History:

• Elias Beast-Bane: The Workshop and the Forty Elephants; She hunted with him once upon a time in a town of woods ruled by a Eldritch Baron and people, and together, Elias and Ash easily laid waste to it. Looking back, working with the Workshop was a nonpareil time- easy and exciting.

Background: This section is being revised! 9 Mars 2018.

 

[elie]

Name: Voxi Naehorn

Age: 30

Race: Elf

Look: Voxi is a bit of a different look. His hair is a sleek, curly black, pushed to his left side, out of the way of his face. His eyes are his right being an almost pink color, and his left being, for the most part, blind, is a bright golden color. He's very pristine and wears a seemingly noble attire which he swears is not stolen. He doesn't have much of an alibi, however, considering the giant scar on the right side of his neck.

Spoiler: Appearance

Class: Sorcerer

Personality: While growing up, people saw him as a very egotistical person, who was mostly just rude to others because they couldn't start a fire at the tip of their fingers. Over time, however, he slowly became the kind of person who would hide away their emotions. Naehorn would conceal his emotions because he believed them to be his weakness. He's quite cocky, and believes because of his knowledge in magic and sorcery, he will be able to defeat any non-magical being that would try to stand in his way. Aside from this, at a young age he learned to be quite, and cunning. He used his magic for mostly petty thievery, occasionally getting in contact with the wrong crowd to do large jobs, which he now views as a strength and a weakness in some ways.

Weapons & Armor: Voxi has little to no armor, and his only protection is in his leather clothing, and the copper lining and gold shoulderpads that he wears on his top. When it comes to his weapons, he makes sure to always be prepared. He makes himself seem almost defenseless, seeing as all weapons are concealed except for a small hand crossbow, equipped on his left side. Apart from this, he has a hidden blade attached to the end of his right leather glove. Although, he never sees a use for these, seeing as he is magic-wielding. Despite this, his physical weapons have come in handy from time to time.

Skills & Abilities: Aside from magic, he's not very skilled. His only real skills are minor knowledge in medicine and his abilities to maneuver well, allowing him to outrun his enemies, or simply defeat them.
(WIP. Need to extend from basics.)

Spells & Magic:
Control of the Elements - Naehorn has the ability to perform minor tasks with practically every major element he pleases. He could start a fire with the snap of his fingers, or extinguish one with the same snap.

Conjuration - He can conjure simple creatures to fight for him, such as bears, and wolves.

Restoration - Lastly, he has the ability to heal minor wounds, and major wounds over a longer period of time.

History: He and Iiolete ran into each other a few years back. Naehorn had a job to do, and Iiolete was able to assist him. While she was able to distract the town, Voxi was able to break into a vault. That was one of his biggest jobs as a thief, and he split some of the money with Iiolete.

 

[Aimless Vagabond]

Name: Elias Beast-Bane

Age: 29

Race: Human

Look: Tall, lean, and regal, Elias cuts a striking figure with light skin, long dark hair, and haunting grayish-green eyes that always seem to see more than what's visible to everyone else. His exact heritage remains unknown, but his height of 6'5 ft. and pale skin lead one to believe he came from the north, which is rumored to be the home of a long-dead race of giants. Despite this, Elias has a habit of blending in to the background unless attention is drawn to him.

Spoiler

Class: Workshop Hunter 1st Class: Elias belongs to a group of warriors known as Workshop Hunters, who hunt unnatural creatures from crazed lycanthropes to true eldritch abominations, which often require a significantly faster and more chaotic style of hunt than anything else. They work in tandem with smiths who forge unusual and often unique weapons, and together these two groups are collectively referred to as the Workshop. Recently, though, the beasts the Workshop hunts have been in short supply, and as such it has been picking up more typical mercenary work. Among the Workshop, Elias is marked as a 1st Class Hunter, making him one of the few experienced elite.

Personality: +Mild: Elias is typically very mild-mannered and friendly, though he has a sly silver tongue and an unexpected cleverness to his manner of speech that often allows him to get away with witty remarks that might otherwise be taken as insult.
+Creative: Being a part of the Workshop, Elias has picked up on little tips and tricks over the years that allow him to provide clever solutions to technical problems, though he lacks any real specialization.
+Curious: Elias seems to be driven by an almost insatiable curiosity, which has carried him to places far removed from civilization. Whether this curiosity is the reason for his chosen profession or a side effect of it remains unknown to all but him.
-Reckless: His insatiable curiosity almost always seems to lead Elias to trouble, which often results in someone getting hurt or even killed, as he never backs down once he's decided to explore. Most other Workshop Hunters tend to avoid working with him because of this, along with the way he acts in the midst of a hunt.
-Confident: Whether he's staring down a group of brawl-happy drunks or a beast born of the most abominable nightmares, Elias never believes himself truly outmatched, a dangerous combination with his habitual recklessness.
-Blood lust: Once Elias has tracked whatever beast or abomination he's hunting, his mild mannerisms give way to a palpable lust for battle that borders on mania. It's best to stay out of his way while he's in this state, as he won't hesitate to catch his allies in the crossfire of his hunt. Thankfully, this state only seems to apply to unnatural creatures; typical foes like other people or wild animals don't trigger this blood lust.


Weapons & Armor:

Spoiler: Armor

Elias sports a set of solid leather armor, which allows for quick movements while still providing decent enough defense, should his quarry catch him, though it was designed more for catching claws and fangs than metal blades, bullets, or magic.
Threaded Cane: Elias's weapon of choice for when he's off the hunt, a sword that was built into the handle of a typical cane. It can also be used as a whip, however, as some Workshop mechanism allows him to split the blade into many pieces along a razor wire with a release switch hidden on the handle.
Pistol: A lightweight pistol built to be raised and fired with haste. It lacks the stopping power typically associated with firearms, but this doesn't matter as Elias generally only uses it to blind or catch fleeing beasts. Typical of the Workshop, the weapon can be quickly reloaded with just one hand.
Whirligig Saw: Elias's signature weapon, this strange creation is a combination of a long-handled mace that can be slotted into a spinning pair of circular blades. Whatever magic went into the blades to make them spin rapidly is known only to the Workshop, but in the heat of battle it hardly matters. An unusual choice even among Workshop Hunters, this weapon is brutal, bloody, and inelegant, and is what earned Elias his title of Beast-Bane.

Skills & Abilities:
Tracker: Years of Workshop work have given Elias the experience he needs to track down most any type of quarry, natural or otherwise.
Experienced Combatant: Elias's fighting style is all about hitting fast and hitting hard, and odd mix of the smooth elegance of a well-trained warrior and the violent brutality of otherworldly beasts.
Good Cook: In spite of his line of work—or perhaps due to it after many nights on the road—Elias has become rather skilled as a chef.

Spells & Magic:
Mind Fortification: The only real spell Elias bothered to learn, this passive magic reinforces his mind against the creeping insanity that is often the demise of other Hunters. Though, to those who have seen him in the midst of his hunts, the effectiveness of this spell remains up for debate.

History:

• Ash: Elias once joined forces with her to uncover the dark secrets of a town rumored to be the home of monsters, only to find the entirety of the town's inhabitants were abominations serving under an Eldritch being. Elias remembers this Hunt as one of his favorites.

Background: TBD

 

[PJ-Flash]

Name: Finch Halcyon Affenkeep
Age: 22
Race: Human
Look: Finch descends from a line of.. birdkeepers. Who could have known? His mother, and his ancestors on her side, are excellent breeders, and his father a talented herbalist, but she is genetically lethargic and he couldn't be bothered with much outside of his desk work. As such, Finch shares their slow metabolism and inclination to slack off, yet he is the contrary to his parents, familiar with curiosity and as active as his body will allow. He possesses a youthful look from his mother, round cheeks that haven't grown out of their puffiness, a slightly dimpled smile; but he relishes this sweet appearance, as it lends a hand in petty bargaining.

He's lanky and isn't excessively muscular, however years of tree-climbing have given him an acceptable amount of upper body strength. Dusty auburn hair is often pulled back into short ponytails or speckled with small braids, messily, leaving strands to fall and frame blue-green eyes. His face is covered in freckles, as he lives and thrives in sunshine. He dons mostly homemade or secondhand wear, shirts in soft materials and puffy pants to provide some breathing room over a menagerie of scratchy coats, heavy belts, and pouches. He's a one-man storage unit, holding onto nearly everything that may just come in handy in an arbitrary situation.

Spoiler

(There is true pain in struggling to find a photo ref for a character you've already planned out ^^; )

Class: Alchemist

Personality:
+ Energetic
+ Ardent
+ Loyal
- Dependent
- Peevish
- Compulsive

Finch is what some might call passionate, and others may call obsessive. He's quick to jump on an adventure or even accept a simple task, but if he is unable to finish it instantly, the lure of completion entirely swallows him. He can get quite hung up on little things, ignoring the bigger picture or an obvious solution to stew over one small inconvenience. He has a short temper, but not enough fire to really blow up, instead adopting a petty, ignorant attitude or a childish irritation.

To keep himself busy, he's taken up alchemy, brewing and mixing on his off time and using the concoctions to his advantage in work. He typically works with traditional chemistry, but won't shy away from using a new spell to amp up a mixture if he can learn one. Although he does cast some spells, quite guiltily, he views those who rely only on magic as weak, no matter their natural talent or expertise. This prejudice may be born out of a feeling of inadequacy in comparison. His own spells are weak, slow words sprinkled into a brew to just slightly enhance it. Finch, physically, could be spat at, and would likely fall over. While he is quick on his feet and very adept at climbing, he does have a flimsy build that cannot withstand much brute force. If it isn't something he can run away from, he'll use a brew to aide him in some way. However, his only form of education is a small spellbook, and textbooks on brewery and avian behaviors. As such, he can be quite slow to understand most things where it can be frustrating; mostly for himself.

He is outgoing by nature and eager to please. Even if a majority of his deeds are done for cash, he still gains satisfaction and dare I say happiness from helping another. He makes many acquaintances, mostly to ask them for favors, but any few friends who last are very important to Finch. He is defensive of his companions and will fight for their behalf sometimes in contrary to his own beliefs. He has a light sense of humor and isn't above cracking stupid jokes to improve the atmosphere of a situation.

Weapons & Armor: Finch enjoys crafting tiny bombs embedded with short spells and chemistry, which can have a variety of uses and side effects. He prefers ranged weaponry to a brawl, and has a few crude blow-dart guns and a bow on hand. These are wooden, and carved with miscellaneous drawings and patterns. If he does need to get up close and personal, he has a small dagger that had been a gift from his father.

Spoiler: Raven's-Eye Dagger

Skills & Abilities: Finch is incredibly agile and deliberate with his movements. He can go mostly unnoticed in crowds and dark environments. He's quite the pickpocket as well.
Spells & Magic: A number of short enhancement skills, such as a short boost in stamina or eyesight.

History:
Tanner Smith: Finch sprung at the opportunity to assist a traveling hunstman by the name of Tanner. He offered to help him track down an elusive beast that had been outmaneuvering him. Using his own agility and a few potions, Finch was able to help Tanner track it down and finish it off. Not only had they conquered the beast, but Finch had been rewarded with this sweet token! 'Twas a winning day.

Iiolete van Rutthe: Iiolete has become a bit of an icon for poor Finch - "gunpowder lady." She's a frequent customer who orders maybe a bit too much gunpowder every time they meet, leading Fin to wonder what exactly she gets up to with all that. It sure is cool, though. Maybe she plunders dungeons!

Background:
For as long as little Finch Affenkeep had been alive, he'd believed he was nothing more than an ordinary child with an ordinary plan. For now, forever. He helped his parents run an aviary on a small acreage. For the lad, his future was foretold by the feathered creatures he lived with. He adored the birds and his parents, although something greater pulled at him. The youngster dreamed of changing the world! Tempted by trouble and adventure, he never really did grow up, spending days past eighteen prodding wildlife and mixing water with anything, really. This was what Finch excelled in - the fields of ethology and alchemy. Al-kimiya, the most simple form of magic. A lesser study. Though textbook authors and professors were proud of their craft, they noted, albeit begrudgingly, that their chemistry couldn't compare to the advances of spells and natural magic. Alchemy dissolved into the shadows shortly after its buzz, however Finch, try as he might, couldn't tear his eyes away from it. If magic could be developed and perfected far beyond its supposed limits, why couldn't alchemy?

So Affenkeep dedicated himself to alchemy, traveling and working to purchase new elements and create new things, primarily potions and medicines. The young man, at just 19, began to bridge the gap between magic and alchemy. Vials that glowed brighter than oil lanterns, mixtures to relieve migraine, simple painkillers. But his effort was for naught. The public had moved on; no local schools taught the subject anymore, instead indoctrinating their students with basic spells, fire-starters and light magic. In Finch's eyes, his discoveries and concoctions made waves toward bringing the practice back - unfortunately, the little dreamer watched his influence fizzle into ash as soon as the spark had lit. He sold potions on the streets of small towns, raking in unsustainable amounts of coin. Pelts and herbs he had picked up in his travels sold far more than the brews he worked so hard on. Infuriated, but not defeated, Finch continued to give his time to a small portable brewery, yielding a few satisfying results. His newer potions designed to enhance pre-existing physical ability made enough money for Finch to keep himself afloat.

Alas, though Finch poured his heart into it, alchemy was dying. The impact and ease of wizardry outweighed the benefits of the science. Finch had empty pockets and a sinking heart - he turned to odd jobs, hunting and gathering for locals just to afford a meal afterward. Despite how bleak his line of work seemed to be, he clung to it, having fallen in love with his studies and the happiness he felt perfecting every recipe. Travel and living expenses were more than he could afford, but for a while Finch was genuinely happy with what he had chosen to do with himself.

It didn't quite last. The winter of Finch's twentieth year was miserable; he couldn't pay for more than two days in a local inn, and had resorted to cooking dead birds found in snowbanks just to provide some energy. Shortly after spring began to peek through the clouds, Finch sought an apprenticeship with a traditional doctor to further hone his skills. He aimed to trick townsfolk into believing they are sick to treat them and bill them for his services. It felt extremely scummy, it haunted him - but he needed it. His mentor taught him only the basics of first aid, cleaning and bandaging wounds, treating illness. The study was short, but offered Fin three meals a day and a place to stay for its duration. Having completed the lessons, he returned to the streets, tongue tainted silver and wares polished as ever.

 

[Hestialuna]

WIP
Name: Eldor
Age: 19
Race: Half- elf
Look:
Class: Hunter

Personality:
Eldor is a fierce elf that is quiet, feeling no need to speak. He is catlike in his movements as well as agile and quick and doesn't make friends easily. He prefers to keep his hood over his eyes and ears at all time and wears predominantly black. Being an elf, he is inhumanly fast, and he is an excellent hunter, thought that is only from practicing since he could hold a bow. Eldor's one main weakness is that he sometimes looses his cool and can't get it back afterwards. His other weakness is that he doesn't ask for help even if he could die without it.
Weapons & Armor: Eldor fights with mainly with a bow, but also is reasonably efficient with hand to hand combat.
Skills & Abilities: Eldor is a very good hunter, and he has very good eyesight, he is also an ok blacksmith.
Spells & Magic: (Spells and magical abilities that the character has.) Eldor is not particularly skilled in magic, but he can perform simple spells.

History: Eldor is a newcomer to this town. yet he has gained respect as a good hunter with the people. He once worked with a half elf named Friera whom he helped to find a settlement for a small community of half elves.

Background: Not much is known about him, but let's just say there were rumors of an assassin in town that looked remarkably like him.....

 

[Hestialuna]

I finished

 

[marshmarrow]

》BASIC《​

NAME
Faythe Leander

GENDER
Female

AGE
28

RACE
Silvestris (humanoid with feline qualities)

CLASS
The Rogue

》TACTICAL《​

WEAPONS & ARMOR
Faythe has mastered an assortment of blades, but she favors the misericorde above all else. Faythe is adverse to using her teeth and nails to fight, finding them more intimidating than effective. She wears only gauntlets, pauldrons, greaves, and a breastplate, claiming that anything more will be a hindrance.

SKILLS & ABILITIES
STEALTH: Because of her lithe body, Faythe can work her way through the smallest of corridors and crawlspaces with ease.

BALANCE: Cats always land on their feet, and she is no exception. Despite her natural lack of a tail, she has a heightened sense of equilibrium and a rotating, allowing her to twist before she falls.

FLEXIBILITY: Faythe is agile and outmaneuvers her opponents before they can strike. She has rarely lost her footing in a fight. She never lingers in one position for too long, her body constantly twisting to dodge and parry oncoming attacks.

NIGHT VISION: Faythe can see easily in the dark. As her eyes dilute, the absorbed light is reflected back. She can detect movements in the dark quicker than humans can.

SPELLS & MAGIC
Silvestri aren't known for their magical abilities, but Faythe has taught herself a few spells to get by, and she's keen to learn more.

SHIFT: Faythe, like all Silvestri, can change from her human to feline form at will. However, this is physically exhausting, and difficult to do without her full concentration. It can be painful when changing forms rapidly without rest.

SMOKESCREEN: Unleashes dense fog within a 30-foot radius. Faythe uses this for surprise attacks or a quick getaway in a pinch. It is harmless and a very basic spell to cast.

HEAL: Casting this over a wound allows it to mend quickly. It is the best for surface wounds, having little effect on serious injury, disease, or infections. It is a simple spell, but one Faythe finds herself using the most.

》PERSONAL《​

APPEARANCE
Faythe is relatively average among Silvestri, but she stands out against pallid human faces. Her hair is a mass of honey-gold, as thick and unruly as a horse's mane, which she wrestles into a braid at the base of her skull. Her skin is a study of tan and caramel, her shoulders and spine dusted with faint jaguar's rosettes. Her eyes are a marble green in color, veined with yellow. Compared to humans, however, she is rather petite, standing at a modest 60 inches (5 feet) and lacking in upper body strength. Don't let her diminutive size deceive you, because her abs, neck, and back are taut with muscle--evidence of her cat-like grace.

PERSONALITY
Faythe is an ambitious spirit with a strong sense of what is right and wrong, and she is always right. She trusts her instincts over the opinions of others, but will often second-guess herself once her decisions go awry. She isn't easily intimidated, especially not by the likes of humans, and often sparks fear into others by her self-assured attitude and aloof nature. She is surprisingly high-strung, holding grudges for longer than necessary. Her moods quickly flip from relaxed to suspicious, but her awareness of her surroundings makes her very intuitive. Like all cats, she is less nonchalant than she thinks she is, but there are times no one can ever know what goes on in her head.

Faythe is fiercely independent, so she sometimes has difficulty working in large groups. She takes a more active role, used to being listened to and followed. She's not an aggressor, but she has difficulty handling conflict once the situation starts to escalate. However, she is keen to notice when someone else needs assistance, which allows a more compassionate side of her to show. She may come off as arrogant or crass, but she is far more intelligent than she lets on.

HISTORY
TANNER: Faythe has known of his exploits for some time. Their first encounter was a duel. After witnessing Tanner's cruelty firsthand, she had no choice but to defeat him in combat to teach him mercy. She lost that fight, but returned with vengeance shortly after. It became a contest; each fight a competition to one-up the other. Faythe can't bring herself to respect Tanner as a person, but she admires his skills in combat.

IIOLETE: Faythe knows fine craftsmanship when she sees it, so she was willing to pay for the hefty price the genteel hunter had asked for the marten cape. Unfortunately, in a lapse of miscommunication, Faythe somehow insulted the woman with small talk, informing her the marten would keep her warmer in her travels than fox or rabbit. When Iiolete refused her offer to pay double, the hunter flaunted her status in front of Faythe's face, humiliating her. She countered, making sure she had the last say before storming out of the tavern. It's a memory Faythe often looks back on with amusement, and she hopes to meet the hunter again to apologize for her juvenile attitude.

BACKGROUND
Born the single child of an aging Silvestri patriarch, Faythe was promptly thought to be the perfect sacrifice to stop the gradual decline of the hinterland. Cast out onto a peak and left to die soon after her birth. She was hoped to bring a stop to the ill fortune that plagued the pride her father ruled. She did not die, rather, the daughter was found by another. The woman named her, and raised her, and taught her the secrets of old.

She learned to pay homage to the skies and winds and sea, the mountains and the forests. She learned to use plants to heal and to harm, to read the skies and glimpse the future. To seduce and to manipulate, to fight and survive. Together, the woman and the girl became family, and when the girl learned all that she could from the woman, they parted, and Faythe moved north.

 

[Wackadoodle0987]

Hope it's not too late to apply. I've read the world-building thread and most of IC, plus some of OOC. Forgive me if anything that follows is out of place, but I'll change as necessary. This is two characters together, background at the end of the second.

Name: Amelie Henrietta Montclair

Pronunciation: Ah-meh-lyee Henry-ett-uh Mon-clayre

Alias(es): The Fair Lady.

Race: Vampire (Human?)

Age: A Lady must have some secrets.

Appearance: Female. White hair, pale skin, silver eyes. Her hair is tightly pulled into a braided bun. She has a slender figure, not much muscle, and she is of average height. Similarly to her sister, her shoulders are quite prominent, and her neck a little long (not weirdly so).

Class: Illusionist / Tempest Witch.

Personality: Amelie's a peculiar one. Often deemed to be ruthless, even cruel at times. She sees her 'ruthlessness' as determination, and recognition of necessity. She does what she must for the benefit of the majority, or for her house. Often resorts to underhand tactics, such as manipulation, deception, even assassination - but only if she deems it necessary. Her actual attitude is quite generous. She's calm, patient, understanding; but will not tolerate brashness. She does not lie though - neither does she tell the truth, most often skating between half-truths and avoiding elaborating her true intentions. She is an illusionist and alchemist most prevalently, though if forced into direct combat, Amelie will resort to using her vampiric claws. Her most deadly weapon is her wit and her sharp tongue though... with no small amount of poison in the mix.

Strengths:
- Ruthlessly intelligent.
- Pragmatic.
- Fantastic liar.

Weaknesses:
- Very self-confident.
- Makes many enemies.
- Her sister.

Weapons & Equipment: Oft donned in extravagant and lavish robes and dresses of the finest quality, Amelie is one to indulge her love of flair and drama... not melodrama, take note. A hand mirror... a necessity of course. Typically carries a vial or two of something especially potent. The Vampire was, and one may suppose still is a sorceress of considerable talent, and typically wields no weapon; though if the situation does arise, a Lady may be inclined to make use of her claws... literal or no. One would assume her attire would make movement a difficulty in combat situations... and you would be correct in doing so, but with her vampiric deftness and lady-like charm and wit, Amelie is a master of avoiding battle.

Her most powerful weapons however, are her tongue and her purse.

Spells: Amelie, during her time spent in solitude, showed great talent with illusions. Amelie pursued the field in search of the most applicable and potent uses, and her extensive lifespan, whether as sorceress or vampire, has provided her ample time to master such magics, as well as dabble even in other such arcane schools.

Aside from her primary focus, Amelie also trained herself in the art of a more direct form of magic... control of the elements. With a penchant for swiftness and sure strikes, one of very few similarities the sisters share, Amelie had a knack for lightning. At first, her discovery of said talent was an accident, and an unfortunate one at that, in the eyes of some - most obviously the blind and scarred apprentice whom the young woman (at the time) had grown increasingly frustrated with his inappropriate advances - an unfortunate side effect of her more visible features.

LIGHTNING - Amelie can conjure bolts of lightning from her hands, infuse her body with uncanny swiftness, and given enough preparation can even summon forth dangerous storms to wreak havoc. Such spells require a great deal of time and energy however, and are of no use in the midst of a battle.

ILLUSION - Summon apparitions to disorient or confuse her foes. Trick others' eyesight such as that she appears to be something she is not or to disappear entirely. Losing focus will swiftly dispel the illusion however, and trickier spells require great concentration.

Notable Skills: Amelie is a pragmatic, opportunistic and sly woman... though she would not deny it. And as such it is her duty to adopt the talents of such creatures. She would call herself an alchemist, her sister would call her a conniving, dishonourable, vicious serpent... and indeed is her bite poisonous. If the Fair Lady offers you a beverage or bite of any kind, think twice... and then think twice more.

ALCHEMY - Amelie is a masterful alchemist, prioritising mostly in poisons. She will often use this talent to her advantage, no matter how dishonourable.

FASHION - Exceptional taste. Not much of a talent, but Amelie will always be found dressed in exquisite clothing.

Racial Traits:
MIST FORM - Amelie can, temporarily, dematerialise her corporeal form into that of what can only be described as mist. It allows for a quick escape in desperate situations, though she never allows herself to be caught in one.

VAMPIRIC NATURE - Natural vampiric speed and strength. She can grow her nails/claws to dangerous length.

ENAMOUR - A trait only strengthened by her talents, Amelie can persuade the weak-willed to do her bidding.
--------------------------------
Name: Annalisa Bellatricia Montclair

Pronunciation: Annah-leez-uh Bella-trish-uh Mon-clayr.

Alias(es): Annalise, Anna, Grumpy Cow (sibling use only).

Race: Vampire (Human?)

Age: Doesn't care.

Appearance: White hair, pale skin, silver eyes. This is a family trait, however, Annalise's hair is shorter, barely reaching her shoulders. Her hair parts at the centre, framing her face in a some what rugged and messy fashion. The elder sister is taller than her sibling, and her muscular form is more prominent, though retains a somewhat slim build. On the right side of her face is a long, messy scar, running down from her eyebrow to her lower jaw.

Class: Duellist.

Personality: Quite different to her sister. Often finding the two together, one would also often find the two arguing. Annalise despises her sister's aptitude for dishonesty and 'underhandedness'. Annalise believes that one should combat on fair ground, and to at least make the enemy aware of your intent. Annalise, unlike her sister, will always tell the truth to the fullest extent (with only rare occasions that she might withhold a word or two). Though she too puts her kin first, Annalise cares less for the majority of people, but more so her own. And despite appearances, cares greatly for her younger sister. However, her downfall is her short temper. Quick to anger, though quick to calm herself as well - though Annalise does not forget an enemy, nor can she swiftly forgive a betrayal - Baron Zemithar found that out (a personal, unimportant side story). She wields a sword, and a dagger. Both made of pure silver, despite her vampirism, and are a symbolic gesture of their ascension above the more bestial of their kind. She fights with a martial technique borne in the East, favouring speed, agility and precision - a dangerous swordswoman.

Strengths:
- Ruthlessly intelligent.
- Brilliant fighter and tactician.
- Indomitable will.

Weaknesses:
- Awful at speaking amicably with people
- Can resort to violence quickly - it is her most effective method
- Is too serious for her own well-being
- Lacks diplomacy

Weapons & Equipment: She carries little at all in the manner of personal effects. She oft dons a set of silver armour, the greaves, boots, and gauntlets all made of strong plate, whilst the torso is crafted from silver mail, with a leather corset over the top. Her armour boasts exceptional resistance to the effects of magic, though her facial scar is testament to the fact she is not immune to it.

A Silver Longsword rests at her waist, forged long ago by a now deceased loyal friend of the family and smith, for Annalise; the blade is crafted from a Silver alloy, enchanted to silence magic. The vampire's distaste for mages is prevalent, though she makes an exception for her sister out of obligation. She has since kept the sword in exceptionally good repair, and spends too much ensuring it remain as such. She also carries a small curved silver dagger, which had belonged to their family perhaps since the founding of the Montclair name. Annalise didn't care about its history, only that it had been passed down to her, and when she did eventually die, it would be passed on to whichever incompetent fool was next in line to receive it.

Spells: Annalise, despite her sister, despises magic.

Notable Skills: Annalise is a duelist, a matriarch of the battlefield in all manner of respects. Having trained as a young woman at the hands of her father, and the order to which he belonged, the woman was raised by the laws of the martial arts. She believes honour to be a sacred thing, to fight with fairness, that the better may be the victor. It is no secret her distaste for Amelie's methods, but her opposition is clouded by her recognition of its effectiveness. Regardless, Annalise herself fights by way of the blade.

DUELIST - She is adept with both dagger and sword, as well as wielding them simultaneously. Anna is an agile fighter, but no doubt her blows are hard and strike with deadly precision. She focuses on punishing her opponents, but will gladly make an opening for herself if needs be.

ARMOUR - Enchanted to resist the effects of magic, Anna is the bane of mages whom deign to oppose her. Certainly she is far from immune to its effects, but the lack of a shield means she oft has to rely on such enchantments to lessen the damage.

Racial Traits:
MIST FORM - Annalise can, temporarily, dematerialise her corporeal form into that of what can only be described as mist. She will be reluctant to use it in battle, lest she be against multiple opponents, for she deems it unfair, though has no qualm in using it to retreat from an unfavourable situation.

VAMPIRIC NATURE - Natural vampiric speed and strength.

History: (To be established)

Background: Amelie and Annalise Montclair, heralded as the famous (or infamous) Montclair Sisters. Now the eldest surviving members of the Montclair line, the two belong to the one of the original bloodlines of Vampires.

Annalise Montclair, the eldest of the two, was born early in the first era of the vampiric people, to the noble house of the Montclairs. Her father, Christien Montclair, named the newborn Annalisa; though she later adopted the Imperialised name Annalise, believing her former to be too feminine. Annalise held a strong bond with her father, and spent her early years by his side almost religiously, resulting in what some would deem more masculine interests. Christien Montclair, while a noble, was a knight; and at her behest attempted to teach Annalisa the knightly virtues of his order – Dignity, strength, determination, compassion, and above all, honesty.

Before adulthood, during her thirteenth year, Annalisa was gifted a sibling, a baby sister. As the eldest, and sole sibling of young Amelie, Annalisa tasked herself with the protection of her sister, and vowed to always keep her safe; though it would seem fate was determined to set them on separate paths.

Unlike Annalisa, Amelie had little interest in knights, or swords, though don’t be mistaken in thinking she did not harbour the same love for her father and mother, for indeed she did – instead, Amelie found her solace in books. Books of history, magic, of prevalent individuals, and the other provinces; anything that interested her she was intent on studying. Thus it was that Amelie spent much of her sheltered childhood at home, in the presence of her mother and various tutors.

Annalise, as she entered womanhood, joined her father’s order of knights in his shadow; and what time she had spent at home with Amelie lessened more so. She trained away from the home, and though Amelie was engrossed in studies, she was not oblivious to Annalise’s absence.

When the war against the Lesser Races began, both Annalise and her father were sent to fight, to the dismay of Amelie and her mother whom feared they shouldn’t return. Amelie, on the brink of womanhood found herself confused, and though a mother’s advice was unlike any other, she knew Annalise understood her more, and yearned for her presence.

Their father returned many years into the war, though no sign of Annalise was to be found. After months of absence, they began to accept their fears of Annalise’s death; though would not abandon hope. In truth, Annalise had survived, though towards the end of her duty had been set upon by a party of humans. Easy pickings she thought, but they were unexpectedly proficient in the arts of ancient magics their kind had no right knowing - such magics only vampires could have taught them. Though her time amongst them was short, it was brutal. The humans, in an attempt to earn their lord’s favour, and bargain for strength, offered Annalise to a clan of Betrayers - Vampires that had forsaken the Elders. They looked upon their kin, knowing what the humans had done to her in their grotesque fashion, and nursed her wounds, and sheltered her – though it was no gift in her eyes.

She raged, day after day, night after night as she slaughtered her captors. She spared no pity, for it was they whom had brought it upon her.

Annalise’s bloodlust frightened her, as she feasted upon the blood of the dead for many nights; and in her mania feared to return home lest she endanger her family. It was thus that she remained in solitude for a time, until she could control herself. Eventually, the Vampire returned home, and into the welcoming arms of her family; at least for so long as they did not know the creature she had become. Annalise did not resent it though, in fact she embraced it. Her ordeal had opened her eyes to the brutality of humanity, and its viciousness; and true to her vow she would not allow Amelie to be under such threat – and so it was that Annalise drove her sister to dangerous lengths in order to grow her strength and her knowledge.

However, having lived such a sheltered life as she had, Amelie was overwhelmed by being thrust so suddenly into a world she had no understanding of, and that supposed strength gave her no comfort, for she felt more vulnerable than ever. Annalise attempted to encourage her, to make her realise that she was vulnerable, and this was the best way for her to be protected. And thus, with coercion, it was that Amelie began her hesitant pursuit of more impacting schools of magic.

As time passed, naturally their parents tired of the war, and they had long since realised their children’s afflictions; their obsessions.... and the little they could do to stop it. War raged on, and was brought even to their door, bringing with it death. Their parents were burned alive as the sisters battled and fled. Their path to the Eternal Citadel was littered with obstacles, and the many months spent traversing the land only built their anticipation to at last reach the bastion of the Elders.

Only it was abandoned, and the far country severed, beyond the sisters' reach. They had been left behind by all but each other.

They retreated to their old homestead, now but a ruin; looted and sacked bar what remained locked in the vault, and began rebuilding. Amelie kept to herself during her period of grieving. Left alone to deal with matters such as the burial of their long deceased parents, as well as her own grief, Annalise succumbed to a moment of weakness and violently cursed the Elders and their war. The Lesser Races, the Elders, the Betrayers... all were to blame for their loss.

The outside world began to rebuild, only to rage into another war. Though the sisters took no sides, they were not immune to its effects, and so they kept their nature hidden and remained amongst the humans.

For a time Amelie managed House Montclair, dealing with its rivals and ensuring it flourished. She even took it upon herself to invest the large sum stowed in their vault, and began a trading business; hiring caravaneers and opening deals with tradesmen in the towns and cities.

Now the Montclairs were merely an elusive, but prominent family of wealth and renown in the trade business. Their private lives were secretive, and they were sure to eliminate any threat that could ruin their cover. Still, in the public eye, the secretive House Montclair was generous and benevolent to the locals, and so they gave the Montclairs no trouble. Rumour had it that those whom did lived very short lives.

Still, sitting at home wasn't their way of life, and the sisters would frequent the far country in search of new experiences to abate their boredom - though Amelie's antics were growing increasingly mischievous and precariously dangerous in the eyes of her sister.

 

[Epiphany]

Name: Cassandra "Cassie" Weaver
Age: 102
Race: Elf
Look: Small, slender with a typically elven physique of compact muscle on a thin frame. Most of the time, she conceals her slight stature with layers of clothing, including a long-sleeved shirt, vest and cloak as well as canvas breaches tucked into stiff leather boots. She wears her blonde hair long, at times sweeping her tresses over her ears to obscure her heritage. Her voice is light and musical as any of her kind, but she speaks the common language flawlessly and, curiously, speaks Elven with a bit of an accent.
Class: Wizard

Personality: A lifetime spent among humans has left Cassie more 'human' than most elves. That said, she retains a certain reserved melancholy owing to watching generations of her adoptive family age and die while she remains young. Cassie's far more reserved with the occasional elf she encounters, though, as her upbringing leaves her utterly alienated from her own kind. Growing on a series of farms, the elven woman is a surprisingly hard worker for a Wizard and she has a natural good cheeriness about her, making it easy to find friends. A century of life has also left her as confident and self-assured as any veteran. That said, Cassie struggles with deep trust issues owing to her betrayal by the man she saw as her father, teacher and master. She also struggles with letting others get close, having lost so many friends and families over the years. Despite her human upbringing, Cassie remains elven enough to dislike conflict, avoiding it where possible and seeking to bring opposing elements into harmony rather than endure disagreement.

Weapons & Armor: Cassie carries a well-worn bow with a leather-wrapped grip and several bowstrings. Her arrows are kept in a slim quiver strapped across her back under her cloak, to protect the fragile fletching, as each arrow has a decidedly homemade look to them. Tucked in her waist is a sharp, long-bladed knife used as a tool more often than as a weapon. Her armor is as unique as her magic, described below.

Skills & Abilities:

She's a fair shot with her bow, as long as it's a deer or something she's hunted.​

Likewise, her knife work is good, reflecting lessons she received decades ago and has practiced but rarely employed. Cassie's rarely been in battle situations, though, and lacks the combat experience more commonly seen in professional archers or knife fighters.​

Her more practical abilities include an extensive knowledge of trails and the lay of the land, knowledge of tree and herb, how to camp, fashion arrows and canvas, rope-making and the like.​

Cassie also has more esoteric skills including the art of making paper and book binding, and she's literate in a number of languages (she theoretically speaks half a dozen but has only ever actually used Elven and the common tongue aloud).​

She's a fair student of history, culture and nation-states but lacked the interest and attention span to master the subject.​

And then there's more arcane knowledge, including the identification of spirits, powers, and the mysteries of the world, which is considerable but largely academic as well.​

​

Spells & Magic: Cassie is a well trained wizard, adept in a variety of spells for numerous situations. Most are the result of long hours of study with short hours of real application, however. Spells she knows include, but are not limited to, the following:

Furious Mote: With an incantation and motion of her hands, Cassie can conjure forth a pair of wings affixed to gleaming ball of light the size of an apple. The color varies depending on her mood. While theoretically able to be directed offensively, the Furious Mote chiefly operates by whirling about her, intercepting arrows or stones as well as swords meant for her. Wood is charred and set aflame when it comes into contact with the Mote and it also sheds enough light to read by.​

Home's Throw: A touch of her blood and an spoken spell can lay an enchantment over any stone she can fit in her hand. Once so enscorcelled, Cassie can toss the rock to the ground while naming an object she searches for. It will immediately begin rolling in the direction of what she seeks. It will not stop or even pause for any reasons, including meals or sleep, requiring long journeys to be managed through repeated castings. Not that the object of her quest will necessarily appreciate having a stone arrive daily to roll over their foot...​

Eskalion's Tendril: By bowing her head and intoning a ritualistic prayer twenty times, Cassie can cause a green vine threaded through with purple shoots to burst forth from the earth. It can be commanded to entangle anything she directs it at, though its slow invocation means it's best suited to an ambush or perhaps to create something to climb.​

Fireball: With a twist of her hands and a fiercely shouted word, Cassie can invoke the aspect of Elemental Fire and conjure forth a fiery ball of flame. It's inherently explosive, prone to setting her surroundings on fire, and it leaves a lingering essence of the flame, unsettling wildlife and even tamed animals for an hour after use.​

Leaves in Winter: As long as Cassie has a leaf in her hand and the means to whistle a twelve note tune, she can direct all stray leaves as if they're conveyed by wind to whatever she points at, obscuring the vision of her adversaries or even slowing their movements depending on number. An extra five notes, repeated emphatically, can also draw even living, still attached leaves away from bushes and trees to join their dead brethren in harassing whatever she chooses.​

History: Two years ago, Finch Affenkeep and Tanner Smith saved her life. Though they've only seen each other a handful of times in the two years since, Cassie remains deeply grateful to them both and would do nearly anything to repay them for taking a chance on her rather than avoiding a fight with a powerful Wizard as they could have.

Background: A hundred years ago, a small band of elven travelers were ambushed by something dark and fearsome outside the village of Oakheart. Wiped out, the only survivor was an infant, rescued by a reclusive and somewhat surly Wizard known as Ivers who occupied a crumbling tower two days from the village. Cassie was placed with the Weaver family, Paul and Iris, who agreed to raise the little girl in their farm halfway between Oakheart and the tower (particularly since Ivers promised a monthly stipend to cover her care).

So began the surreal childhood of Cassie Weaver. For when she'd grown to childhood, Paul and Iris' children had grown to adulthood and they took over her care when their parents grew too old. Cassie was an adolescent and old enough to truly grieve when Katie Sanders née Weaver, who'd been born within a year of her, died of old age. She spent another decade with Katie's adult children, helping out with the farm work and in the care of their children, before finally leaving them behind for Ivers tower.

For all her life, the Wizard Ivers had stopped by every month to see her. He'd given her a treat, asked about her growth and even offered to teach her his ways. Cassie had intermittent instruction for decades but she was in her seventies when the passing of her human family grieved her deeply enough to formally apprentice with Ivers. From that day forward, she stayed in his tower and studied at his feet, only visiting the Weavers and their extended families monthly or for holidays.

Decades more passed with her growing skilled and wise in the ways of wizardry. Or so she thought. On her hundredth birthday, Ivers took her to the top of his tower and gave her potion, claiming it and a ritual were the traditional elven way of honoring her true adulthood. It was a surprise to both of them when two acquaintances, Finch and Tanner, arrived just in time. Ivers had purchased most of the materials for his potion from the alchemist and Finch realized, almost too late, that such a potion when consumed in conjunction with certain arcane energies could be used to link lifeforce. His concern led Ivers to admit that he'd already dosed Cassie her entire life, in the form of that monthly 'treat', and he'd been enjoying an unnaturally long lifespan by siphoning hers into him. The ritual would have made the exchange permanent, with no need to keep her alive or close by for full efficacy.

The three fought a desperate battle and at last triumphed, though they merely drove Ivers away as they lacked the means to kill a Wizard of such power. Free of her apprenticeship and a lifetime spent being a battery for a Wizard, Cassie took up dwelling near Oakheart as the neighbors of a family of Weavers, lending her magical talents to the aid of the village and its people. She remains deeply loyal to the community, seeing them as her real home after all these years.

 

[frakncheese]

Name: "Mama would always say to me Calliope No! Calliope No! It must have been my name, sure as ice on a fairy's wing."
Age: 20
Race: Half-Elf
Look: "Why it changes all around, wee sparrow! The poppies always bloom green from my eye-holes - pluck themselves right out of the ground and grow to a tisket! Baskets of amaranth from my head, from my head. I do not understand the man and woman. Dark, soil flesh never holds its shape, wembles this way and that and it drains from my mind quick as air."
(in today's terms, they are genderfluid. sometimes i will use she, sometimes he, often they. i'll make sure it's easy to tell who i'm referring to via context. Their magical ability means that their appearance often shifts to reflect however they are feeling at the time, but they always have big eyes of green and straight, shoulder-length hair of purple. They have that lithe elven grace.)
Class: Bard (kind of)

Personality:
+ Empathic >> "Your colors have gone all funny ♪! They're dragging your head down ♪. Come talk about it." "He, he breathes in foul air, my dove. Or breathes it clean and makes it foul again. Corellon save us!"
+ Adventurous >> "I should like to die one day, but there's still much to do. What great stories to tell, wee sparrow! I only need to find them." "A mimsy sport! I'll follow, bold eagle. I am not so young in fight as in truth!"
+ Loyal >> "What, now! Do you think I'm as swishy as those leaves up there? I'm more a tree, you know! And now I've got you in my branches, whistling finch. Nest."
- Unpredictable >> "Hah! My bone is nothing. Watch me fix it! At any fly, I saw your horse gallumphing and was so taxeled to run to greet it! I have come plumping down now, like a sparrow from the sky ♪. "
- Traumatized >> "A scratch! I'll look. I'll shut this gate and shut it good! It is agony. Oh, if they had never sought my hand, they would still be standing where you stand ♪. I cannot shut the blood ♪ - please... go for a spell."
- Unwell >> "They say I am quite mad! Their whispers sneak around to come and find me. Well, they are right! And I get such fun from it."

Weapons & Armor: Simple clothing >> "Does a dove carry a sword? Do the little hopping birds wear sparkling raiment? I think not! I'll foolish close before the sweetly of my nature clanks and clackles sculpted shackles."
Skills & Abilities:
Singing >> "Corellon gives me lovely sounds ♪. He's moved me to the holy grounds, but I'm half here yet and whole posed just within the doorway closed ♪. I'll sing as must 'til back to dust ♪."
Anatomy, a little medieval-tier biochemistry >> "I've gone through such books as would flap far about your pointy ears, mute falcon. The liggy mens that make you bend, the stringy flesh that lets you swill your sword - you don't even think of them, do you! But I do."
Spells & Magic: "I'll stitch you not! You bird, have you broken your wing? I'll not set it. I'll set my hands on you instead. I'll sprinkly you back together, skin hopping back to brother skin, indeed! I'll not do you the other way - although I could. I have. Oh god, I've done the other way before I even knew it. I never will again."
(Cal can manipulate bodies with increasing difficulty the more their forms differ from their own. Most humanoids are easy. It requires their hands to make direct contact with the body in question. Even in their madness they vaguely try to keep the destructive potential of this a secret, framing it instead as a healing power. Cal has no aptitude for any other sort of magic. Cal can also modify bodies in addition to healing and harming them. Appearance is a trifle but internal structure requires a little more focus and can easily go topsy turvy if Cal's understanding of the exact minutae of the modification is lacking.)

Background: Cal is mad largely as a byproduct of the loss of their parents, in which Cal had an accidental hand, though there is arguably some outside influence. Since their deaths, Cal has wandered from village to village, getting by as a very unusual but very talented bard.

 

[ShadTheWerepire]

Name: Shae Veris
Age: 27
Race: Half-Elf

Look:
Overall innocent in her appearance, Shae is petite in stature but has a muscular frame. Human genes made Shae slower than her elven counterparts and a shorter physique. While her elven side granted her slightly pointed ears and a lean appearance to her impressive musculature. Her blond hair streaked with mud and twigs, she is not particularly clean but that does not mean she is uncivilized. She wears loose hanging fabrics smeared with unusual colors like pinks and purples from overlooked flowers in the woods.

Spoiler: Appearance

Class: Druid

Personality: Shae is not a tactician, she runs head first into anything that threatens her or others. Her impulsive nature guides her into perilous, life threatening situations for her and her companions. She’s been hunted, captured, and enslaved before, but she has only come out a stronger person. Therefore, she strives for freedom. Seeing the evil in this world has only made her believe truly good people must also exist.

She stubbornly believes she is good and knows what it means to be good. That doesn’t mean she’ll speak up for what she knows is right, she just won’t do what is wrong. Shae believes actions speak louder than words, so she might not be the talkative sort.

Shae never had a formal education and would never fit in among royals.

Weapons & Armor: She has no weapons or armor but the ones nature grants her, whether that be fists, claws, a shell, or fur.

Skills & Abilities:

Athletic- Capable of running, climbing, and swimming at an above average skill.

Spells & Magic:

Wild Shape- Shae can take the form of any animal she’s been in contact with. To first turn into a form she must complete an extensive ritual, which allows her to take that form whenever she pleases. The longer she stays in an animal form the longer she retains animalistic qualities when she returns to her human form. She can freely transform unless man-made metal objects are restricting her in some way such as handcuffs or chains.

Preferred Form:

Spoiler: Preferred Form

Other Prepared Forms: Finch, Deer (She fully regrets that ritual as she’s had many an arrow fired her way in that form), Orange Tabby, Snapping Turtle, Forest Ostrich (think Chocobo) and Kangaroo Rat.

Speak to animals- When you spend time as animals their language becomes clear. She can communicate with animals but finds translating difficult because of the emotion and instinct involved in animal speech.

Immunity to Poison- Instead of learning to cast proper druid spells she trained her body to use that magic to protect and transform her. This is not traditional for Druids but her ritualistic animal path has restricted magic use to physical enhancements. She has yet to augment her body in numerous ways, for now she just isn’t affected by all manners of poison.

History:

Finch Affenkeep- Eight years ago, Shae was brought to Finch’s Mother’s apiary as a new potential bird for her breeding stock. Luckily, Finch let her out of the metal cage that was trapping her in a bird form. She transformed back to her human form and thanked him profusely before flying off.

Tanner Smith- The cruel ranger hunted her as a deer once. He was very confused when he found a woman instead of a deer at the end of his shot. After a brief argument Shae angrily wandered off and vowed not to use that form so openly.

Background: (I'll add to this as I think more about it.)

Shae was a sickly child, her parents couldn't care for her so she was left with the church. The church healer cared for her and raised her as an assistant. But the education didn't stick, Shae couldn't focus, she had no inherent talent for something as structured as medical treatment. When she tied a bandage on a patient it was too tight, too loose. Her hands were never clean enough. Her hacking cough, all that remained of her childhood illness, would scare patients.

 

[Grammatic]

Name: Rycherd Alistair
Age: ...
Race: Human
Look:

Class: Sorcerer

Personality: Rycherd is overly confident in all his endeavors. In many years travelling across the Known World, he has yet to meet his equal. He will underestimate any potential foe he meets. With his age and learning though, he is also slightly insane. At times he will break down into incoherent babbling, only to suddenly come back to reality without warning. In the end, he also enjoys the pain others experience, and will go out of his way to ensure such things are plentiful, at the expense of his carefully laid plans. His mastery of countless forms of magic though counteract a few of these issues, and a unrelenting dedication to completing any task before him shall push him to immense accomplishments.

Weapons & Armor: Arcane Staff, covered in countless incomprehensible runes, glowing with an impossible number of colored flames. He also has numerous enchanted relics, including a blade unearthed long ago in an ancient crypt.
Skills & Abilities: He can read really well, and can understand almost every language, dead or otherwise.
Spells & Magic: Many.

History: ...
Background: ...

 

[Teh Frixz]

The Sacrifice

Name: Cinna 'Cinnamon' MacDonough

Age: 20

Race: Human

Look: Looking past the emaciation, ragged shaved head, and religious text burned into her flesh, Cinna's body betrays signs of goodly breeding. Ample muscle, fair complexion, decent build. A perfect choice if one had to choose a stock example of humanity. A shock of copper hair grows naturally from her head, darkened skin from a lifetime spent outdoors. Eyes are a pale brown, darkened by lack of sleep and the stress of life, all topped off by tall nose in the style of the ancients. Average in height, Cinna is severely malnourished and subsequently underweight. Across her body are a series of both tattoos and brands, all religious in nature. Hands and feet are devoid of nails and around her neck, ankles, and wrists the skin is tortured and raw. Currently manacled, her clothing is little more than grey cloth hanging together loosely with a rope belt.

Class: - Gift of Dagon -

The old gods only take. Centuries of secret worship, of forgotten tongue and ancient whispers have passed and for the first time in recorded history has that been changed. A virgin twin pair, on the eve of their twentieth year of celibacy in preparation of their offering shall be taken and if the texts are read, the stars align, and the offering accepted. One shall be returned in the name of Dagon, one to bring to bear their terrible wrath, and one to bring about the return of the Old and Dead. A once human form, desperately trying to contain the essence of the Old one harbored inside it. The Gift of Dagon acts as a physical conduit of their patron. Manifesting, when able, their horrific forms and purpose.

Personality:

With the mixture of inhuman chill and the heat of mortal passion comes eventual cracking. Cinna was expected to be raised in ignorance as she was to be a host for the cult, instead she was given the gift of a fairly normal life. As such, most of her personality is logical, generally kind hearted and very fun loving. Unfortunately this remains at odds with the God living inside her body. A cold alien intelligence with an agenda that has not so much parasitized Cinna’s Body as much as it has become her soul.

+ Dutiful
+ Playful
+ Well Rounded

- Dissolute
- Frivolous
- Secretive


Weapons & Armor:
While not armor, Cinna is shackled by the cold iron of Inquisitorial metal. Imbued with faith and magic, the Shackles help limit the possible manifestation of Dagon inside Cinna.

Skills & Abilities:
Before her sacrifice, Cinna was daughter to a competent and prolific Brewer. In their familial lands, Cinna had taken up this life with gusto. From seed to stein, Cinna was involved in all steps in the production of ale, porters, stouts, and generally all types of beer. This includes the farming, harvesting, and processing of all ingredients. As such, her palate for beer is on the level of a Cicerone and is subsequently difficult to inebriate.

Spells & Magic:
As the Gift of Dagon, the magic utilized is alien and bizarre. Beneath the skin of Cinna pulses the power of the Old Gods. A powerful form of aquatic and terrible merging. Emerging only when her skin is split, Dagon's form is obscenely strong, resistant to magics, and often capable of driving those of weak will mad. In this form, the Gift of tongues is bestowed and a form of alien knowledge that allows Cinna to host and perform elaborate ceremony dedicated to summoning forth servants of the Old Gods. These ceremonies require the assistance of those aware of Cinna's purpose in this realm, people that may be inducted by those having been turned mad by exposure to her true form.

Veil of Humanity:
When the skin is split, the guise of humanity is lost and Dagon's presence is revealed.

Gift of the sleeping Tongue:
Cinna can read and understand the inhuman script of the Deep cults and Old Ones

From Beyond:
These are not planar beings, they are the immeasurable, immaterial things and behave as such


History: (Choose at least one other character and describe a time you worked together.)

Background:

MacDonough's Tavern. One of the countless brewhouses that crop up in villages along major thoroughfares. It never did stand out during the century the building stood, but then again neither did the village where it stood, Marren's Eve. A dozen or so families had settled down to make a living through the basics. Lumber, hunting, and mining industry popped up on a small scale. This lead to a small trade center with all the basic amenities. A town council convened and governed fairly. It seemed as though Marren's Eve was blessed as neighboring towns fell to banditry or plague but Marren's Eve carried on. It was only when a new route, faster and safer, was cut through the land that bypassed Marren's Eve did the town begin to fall prey to dilapidation. Yet the founders remained, despite business and younger families moving off. Soon Marren's Eve was nothing but a functional ghost town avoided by even the most robust of brigands.

It was in this ghost town that Cinna was born and raised along with her twin sister. While the town was mostly empty, it was always fairly safe and there were an abundance of cousins and half siblings for the pair to play with. At the very least, the slow beating heart of their town was their one holding in an indifferent world, MacDonough's tavern. A warmth emanated from the place and with the occasional money earned by cloaked travelers or even fleeing refugees, the tavern persisted on.

With no education beyond that of their Town, Cinna and her sister Godwin were given to flights of imagination. Dreaming of leaving the crumbling town and finding a life outside their little town in the woods. This obviously was not to be. When the pair was due to turn 16, things began to happen fairly rapidly. Things neither of them could imagine. Taken by their parents to the courthouse and forcibly led below, a fearsome sight awaited them. A marble dias with a pair of black stone altars. Fearing the torches and incessant chanting, Godwin tried to escape, pulling a petrified Cinna along with them only for a cloaked figure to announce that the sacrifice has revealed themselves.

The twins were strapped down and ritualistically sacrificed to the Old God Dagon. A gift from the cult to their god who had kept their village alive for so long. A god who decided for the first time to return the gesture with a gift of his own.

The next day came and in the pit of death that served as disposal did Cinna awaken. The wound where her heart was torn out mysteriously closed and her mind nearly warped beyond comprehension, Cinna clawed her way past the corpses of her vanished friends and family and found the surface world unchanged. Villagers gasped at her visage, nude and covered in dirt and gore. They fell to their knees, silently praying to her feet as she walked past them in a state of shock. Even her parents would do nothing except pray silently at her feet. Terror and disgust began overwhelming Cinna. Taking a torch she screamed and threatened her town, pleading for them to stop this and leave her alone. Desperation turned to action and Cinna took the torch to the town, starting with the cursed Town Hall. With no reaction by the populace, the fires spread and Cinna watched in horror as the flames consumed them one by one.

The town burnt to the ground and Cinna was left alone. Fleeing into the woods, Cinna eventually made it to the newly built route and was met with pity. Given shelter and food, all seemed to be well and plans were made to find some sort of guardian for the lost girl when sanctioned mages near Cinna began growing violently ill. Fears of a magical plague were met by the calling for healers who inspected the girl and quickly discovered her form beneath her skin.

Thrown in irons and handed over to Magistrates, Cinna was branded a demon, subjected to experimentation and kept imprisoned for several years. With no headway being made about her condition, Cinna was to be transferred to a permanent location with the possibility of Execution to be discussed. During the transfer, misfortune befell the wagon transporting her and escape became possible. Cinna took her chance and ran with it, ignoring the screams of terror as she made her way into the town of Glewick to take shelter.