Fantasy Characters of The Arcane Guild of Barkbrew

[BlackoutThieving]

Information
The setting is very DnD-esque and highly inspired by Terry Pratchett’s Discworld, while also having the freedom and character-individuality of Fairy Tail. I act more as a GM, playing the NPC's and the world, rather than being a player myself and if you wanna buy supplies, explore and such you can ask me if your character would know where to go and such or you could do it yourself. I like the interaction, though. It is essentially a Fairy Tail type of guild with a mission board and the likes.

I am willing to incorporate a lot of magical creatures if you are willing to compromise, but as a baseline, here’s a list in case you need ideas.

Human
Elf ( Average lifespan of 150 years)
Half-elf
Dwarf
Halfling
Goblin
Half-orc (No orcs; Too dumb)
Dragonborn (In the style of Dungeons and Dragons, effectively strong humans with a breath weapon, not close to a dragon in terms of power)

Some people have proven themselves able to utilize magic without any significant risk and with natural ease, seemingly without any genetic correlation or other factor. Usually, these people don’t tap into their arcane abilities, but those who do typically do so by an inherently magical occurrence, a catalyst, activating their potential. These people are sought out by guilds and subsequently employed, being of high-value. You have been contacted by The Arcane Guild of Barkbrew, through a letter giving you bad directions to the guildhouse out in the forest of Sproutholm. You may have been given the letter by a crow, a random shady person, or anything you creative can come up with.

In terms of your magical prowess, you’re all going to start out weak. This is supposed to be a longer roleplay; You will progress. As for your magical powers, I will read through your character sheet and judge them for myself, telling you to change something if it’s too powerful. There’s mainly 4 types of magic in this world:

• Innate Magic, aka, Fairy Tail magic

Meaning that you just have some inherent affinity for a specific type of magic, typically centered around a certain concept or power (Flame, ice, monkey, ant-summoning, sound-manipulation, you know, whatever thing you may like) and can use it limited only by “energy” or mana, whatever you wanna call it. Just don’t spam things too much. It is activated by a magical event, which could be a magical frog spitting on you, a god tossing you a dime, falling into a well and waking up wet, whatever you want, as long as it’s supernatural.

• Patron magic, aka Warlockry, aka Magical Sugardaddy

You’re sitting in a tavern. Some random dude gives you a fiver and asks you to piss in a keg of beer down in the cellar every monday. That’s essentially the contract of a patron, except that same guy will come and drown you in piss, should you fail to fulfill your contract (And the fiver represents your magical powers, obviously). A patron can be any very powerful magical creature, if you can make the case. Patron powers have pretty limited growth but there might be workarounds.

• Spell Magic, aka The Hard Way (Why do this to yourself?)

Real wizards are the eighth son of an eighth son, and they don’t use innate magic, they use spellbooks and wacky incantations. If anyone wants to use this, it’s basically Vancian magic (Look it up).

• Magic items, aka Better Get A Wii Remote Strap

Magical items exist in many forms, but there’s rarely, if ever, anyway to progress the magic in them. Some items need attunement, meaning that you need to sleep with it every night and praise it for being a good little Flaming Trident, yes you are. You can this be your power, but it's more exciting to get the in the roleplay.

You can only use one type of magic, naturally, as using multiple is said to have catastrophic consequences. I assume the use of Innate Magic, unless you truly want one of the others.


Character Sheet:

Name:

Age:

Race:

Gender:

Appearance:

Personality:

Abilities and Skills:

Backstory:

Important Belongings:


These are merely the minimum requirements. You can add whatever sections to it you want, sexuality, religion, aliases etc. Abilities is your type of magic, martial arts etc. Backstory has to include your magical catalyst as mentioned in the Interest Check, if using Innate Magic. It can be a magical frog spitting on you, a god tossing you a dime, falling into a well and waking up wet, whatever you want, as long as it’s supernatural.

Be creative!

 

[Deadwood Deer]

Name: Eira Skysight
Age: 24
Race: Human
Gender: Female
Appearance:

Spoiler: Face and Attire cuz I couldn't find a close enough picture

Spoiler: Face

Spoiler: Attire

Except all the fur is white, and the shirt has sleeves, and she wears a hood, not a cap.

Eira stands at around 5'11 (1.80 meters) tall, weighing around 160 pounds (72.57 kilos), with snow white hair and icy blue eyes as a result of her magic. Most of her weight is muscle as a result of her lifestyle growing up and up until this point. She has a circular scar on her chest, somewhat larger than a fist, over her heart, as well as some talon scarring on her arms and shoulders.
She dresses for the freezing weather of her homeland, in thick clothing and white furs to blend with the snow, with leather parts as added protection against animals and brush.
Her hair falls to about elbow length, and usually she braids it and keeps it under her hood so it doesn't get in her face when she's aiming her bow. Her bow is dark brown with white and blue designs painted and carved into the wood and coated in a wax to keep it from splintering as a result. Her arrows have goosefeather fletchings dyed red so she can find them again in the snow, with sharp heads made of flint, obsidian, stone, or animal bone, it all depends on what she's had available to her to make heads of over the years, although metal was reserved for sturdier tools. She is also in possession of a hatchet and a hunting knife similar in theme to her bow, although with a steel head/blade.
Personality:
Eira comes off as cold, and not just because she's a cryomancer. She has difficulty understanding and expressing empathy towards other people, but strangely not towards creatures native to colder climates. She doesn't like being touched by other people, shying away from physical contact if she can help it. She also avoids sources of warmth like fire, as it burns her by proximity.
She has something of a temper, but fiery is the wrong adjective. Fire burns and then burns out, Eira isn't so easy to calm down when angered.
More comfortable in the woods than the city, Eira isn't very good with money, and has a tendency to get ripped off by merchants she hasn't built a business relationship with. She is also largely unfamiliar with the laws of society, and tends to skirt around trouble only because she doesn't actively seek it out, though on occasion she may say or do something that gets her in trouble, like drop snow on someone who insults her.
Abilities and Skills:
Cryomancy- Eira can turn water to or conjure ice to control. It takes more mana to create ice than to freeze water, however.
Ice Heart- As Eira literally has a heart of ice, she doesn't seem to be affected by cold weather and has some resistance to cold magicks. She has a much lower body temperature than most humans, causing her breath to always fog, and making her suffer more in hot climates. She is cold enough to give someone frostbite by touching them for a time, but strangely this doesn't seem to happen to people or animals she cares about, like Eae.
Falconer- Specializing in owls, Eira is a capable caretaker and trainer of birds of prey.
Tracking and Hunting- Food wasn't on her table if she couldn't find and kill it. She's more suited for tracking through snow, but the basic principles of tracking apply almost everywhere, and shooting a bow doesn't change.
Backstory:
Where Eira is from, the land is covered in snow year around. Eira and her family kept food on the table by raising and training owls and other birds of prey to help the hunters find food, which was among the only ways to feed the town.
Her village could not farm except for certain plants that thrive in snow or in personal gardens that the snow could be kept off of and heated with stones prepared by the village shaman. To produce these stones, the shaman would ritually remove the heart of a still living animal or a volunteering maiden or youth, and put all the heat it would ever produce into a stone, which could warm a hearth or garden for years or even decades before it cooled.
One year, there were few animals, no volunteers and not enough stones to go around. It's hard to chop frozen wood, let alone enough to warm a home through the dead of winter. Too many to feed and not enough to feed them with. Overall there just weren't enough resources that year to support the village. The chieftain needed to make a choice: either let his people starve or freeze to death, or reduce the number of mouths to feed. He decided that it was better the population was reduced and he angered some families than the entire village die, and began selecting random unmarried maidens and youths for Heat Stones.
Eira won this involuntary lottery. It would be her heart that warmed a home. She objected and struggled right up until the ceremonial dagger plunged into her chest and carved out her beating heart. She was buried just before a blizzard while her heat stone and food rations were distributed.
The winter cold heard her scream, and gave her a second chance. Ice filled the void left by her heart, breathing life back into her body as she clawed her way out of her grave. Covered in dirt and snow, but strangely not cold, Eira stumbled home.
Everyone was asleep when she slumped down by the remains of the cooking fire to try and warm herself, but this changed when the warmth of the fire burned her, even though she wasn't touching the hot coals or had her hand in the flames, it burned her hands the same.
Her father came into the room with his axe raised to deal with the intruder. He stopped in his tracks and dropped the axe when Eira looked at him. The two embraced, and that is when Eira learned of the unnatural chill that her body had in place of heat.
The family was woken up and fussed over her. Are you okay? You're freezing! Where did you get this burn? How are you alive? Her mother insisted on cleaning Eira up and giving her a proper meal before anyone could smother her with questions she didn't have answers for. And it was her mother that realized that wasn't snow in Eira's hair or a trick of the light with her eyes. In death and her icy reanimation, Eira's hair had turned white, and her eyes blue. She was cold enough to be unconscious from hypothermia, but didn't suffer from it. Food chilled when she touched it, but she didn't notice. Something was weird.
Deciding to take her to the shaman in the morning, the family settled down for the night. Morning came and Eira, cloaked and hooded, was accompanied by her father to the chieftain's home and requested to speak with the shaman. They were refused until Eira lowered her hood.
When the shaman came into the room and locked eyes with Eira, magic started moving. The entire house dropped thirty degrees in an instant, frost coating the walls and furniture, the heat stones simply fizzled out, the lanterns and candles flickered out. The old shaman should have worn the brown pants.
Without really knowing what she was doing, Eira walked over to the old shaman, put her hand over his heart, and put an icicle through it. "It hurts, don't it?", she asked as she pulled it out and the shaman fell back against the wall, his blood flowing like water from the hole in his chest. Her father and the chieftain's jaws hit the floor as Eira turned to the chieftain, "Now you have fewer people to worry about," she said as she left.
Knowing that she would be exiled for what she just did, Eira went home and began packing. Clothes, her bow, quiver, knife, a hatchet, some food, and some money, loading her belongings onto the hunting sledge. Her mother and sisters demanded to know what was going on, but Eira only told them she was leaving, it wasn't safe for the village with her around.
In a last ditch effort to keep Eira from leaving, her mother declared that Eira wasn't taking the dogs to drive that sledge. That was fine, they needed the dogs more, and it wasn't like she intended to return.
As Eira dragged her sledge out of town, her father and the chieftain had recovered their senses and were looking for her. To take her back and make her explain herself.
The blizzard didn't let them catch up.
The storm lasted for days, during which Eira trudged through the ever deepening snow towards a cavern she often stayed in while hunting. The cold didn't affect her. The snow seemed to help her move, parting or hardening as she moved to help her walk and move her sledge. She lacked wood for a fire, but the chill didn't bother her, so it wasn't too bad. While she waited out the blizzard, she practiced with the ice she now had. Where it came from took her a long time to understand, but by the time the blizzard passed she had enough control to not freeze everything she touched.
Which helped her avoid a potentially horrible situation when her hunting owl landed on her hood and pecked her forehead. "Hey, Eae." The bird hooted at her and flitted down to the sledge, landing on the quiver. The bird wanted to hunt.
That was how she made her living, trading furs and hides for coin and supplies. And she was good at it. Occasionally, some fool would attempt to rob or otherwise harass the hunter, and such was how she became a better cryokinetic.
Due to her nomadic lifestyle, traveling between towns and back to the wilds, she never stayed in one town long enough to build a local reputation, but stories traveled. Someone came running up to Eira and her sledge as she was leaving town. Eae, defensive as he was, flew at the man, clawing at his face and battering him with his wings.
He was a courier, as Eira learned when Eae finally let the man go and he regained his composure. Apparently he'd been trying to catch up with her for a while, but hadn't been able to find her because she never stayed in one place. He needed medical attention, so she followed him back into town and paid, he delivered his letter, and she read the letter. It was an invitation and some really poor directions to a guild.
Someone had gone through the trouble of tracking her down, she might as well find out what it was about.
Important Belongings:
Eae- (Pronounced AYY-uh) Eira's snowy owl. Once her hunting aid, now her companion. Eae's a bit of a goofball and somewhat territorial of his perch, his perch being Eira's head, shoulders, arm, or knee if she's sitting.
Bow and Arrows, Hatchet, and Knife, and a waterskin.

 

[BlackoutThieving]

Name: Eira Skysight
Age: 24
Race: Human
Gender: Female
Appearance:

Spoiler: Face and Attire cuz I couldn't find a close enough picture

Spoiler: Face

View attachment 685871

Spoiler: Attire

View attachment 685872
Except all the fur is white, and the shirt has sleeves, and she wears a hood, not a cap.

Eira stands at around 5'11 (1.80 meters) tall, weighing around 160 pounds (72.57 kilos), with snow white hair and icy blue eyes as a result of her magic. Most of her weight is muscle as a result of her lifestyle growing up and up until this point. She has a circular scar on her chest, somewhat larger than a fist, over her heart, as well as some talon scarring on her arms and shoulders.
She dresses for the freezing weather of her homeland, in thick clothing and white furs to blend with the snow, with leather parts as added protection against animals and brush.
Her hair falls to about elbow length, and usually she braids it and keeps it under her hood so it doesn't get in her face when she's aiming her bow. Her bow is dark brown with white and blue designs painted and carved into the wood and coated in a wax to keep it from splintering as a result. Her arrows have goosefeather fletchings dyed red so she can find them again in the snow, with sharp heads made of flint, obsidian, stone, or animal bone, it all depends on what she's had available to her to make heads of over the years, although metal was reserved for sturdier tools. She is also in possession of a hatchet and a hunting knife similar in theme to her bow, although with a steel head/blade.
Personality:
Eira comes off as cold, and not just because she's a cryomancer. She has difficulty understanding and expressing empathy towards other people, but strangely not towards creatures native to colder climates. She doesn't like being touched by other people, shying away from physical contact if she can help it. She also avoids sources of warmth like fire, as it burns her by proximity.
She has something of a temper, but fiery is the wrong adjective. Fire burns and then burns out, Eira isn't so easy to calm down when angered.
More comfortable in the woods than the city, Eira isn't very good with money, and has a tendency to get ripped off by merchants she hasn't built a business relationship with. She is also largely unfamiliar with the laws of society, and tends to skirt around trouble only because she doesn't actively seek it out, though on occasion she may say or do something that gets her in trouble, like drop snow on someone who insults her.
Abilities and Skills:
Cryomancy- Eira can turn water to or conjure ice to control. It takes more mana to create ice than to freeze water, however.
Ice Heart- As Eira literally has a heart of ice, she doesn't seem to be affected by cold weather and has some resistance to cold magicks. She has a much lower body temperature than most humans, causing her breath to always fog, and making her suffer more in hot climates. She is cold enough to give someone frostbite by touching them for a time, but strangely this doesn't seem to happen to people or animals she cares about, like Eae.
Falconer- Specializing in owls, Eira is a capable caretaker and trainer of birds of prey.
Tracking and Hunting- Food wasn't on her table if she couldn't find and kill it. She's more suited for tracking through snow, but the basic principles of tracking apply almost everywhere, and shooting a bow doesn't change.
Backstory:
Where Eira is from, the land is covered in snow year around. Eira and her family kept food on the table by raising and training owls and other birds of prey to help the hunters find food, which was among the only ways to feed the town.
Her village could not farm except for certain plants that thrive in snow or in personal gardens that the snow could be kept off of and heated with stones prepared by the village shaman. To produce these stones, the shaman would ritually remove the heart of a still living animal or a volunteering maiden or youth, and put all the heat it would ever produce into a stone, which could warm a hearth or garden for years or even decades before it cooled.
One year, there were few animals, no volunteers and not enough stones to go around. It's hard to chop frozen wood, let alone enough to warm a home through the dead of winter. Too many to feed and not enough to feed them with. Overall there just weren't enough resources that year to support the village. The chieftain needed to make a choice: either let his people starve or freeze to death, or reduce the number of mouths to feed. He decided that it was better the population was reduced and he angered some families than the entire village die, and began selecting random unmarried maidens and youths for Heat Stones.
Eira won this involuntary lottery. It would be her heart that warmed a home. She objected and struggled right up until the ceremonial dagger plunged into her chest and carved out her beating heart. She was buried just before a blizzard while her heat stone and food rations were distributed.
The winter cold heard her scream, and gave her a second chance. Ice filled the void left by her heart, breathing life back into her body as she clawed her way out of her grave. Covered in dirt and snow, but strangely not cold, Eira stumbled home.
Everyone was asleep when she slumped down by the remains of the cooking fire to try and warm herself, but this changed when the warmth of the fire burned her, even though she wasn't touching the hot coals or had her hand in the flames, it burned her hands the same.
Her father came into the room with his axe raised to deal with the intruder. He stopped in his tracks and dropped the axe when Eira looked at him. The two embraced, and that is when Eira learned of the unnatural chill that her body had in place of heat.
The family was woken up and fussed over her. Are you okay? You're freezing! Where did you get this burn? How are you alive? Her mother insisted on cleaning Eira up and giving her a proper meal before anyone could smother her with questions she didn't have answers for. And it was her mother that realized that wasn't snow in Eira's hair or a trick of the light with her eyes. In death and her icy reanimation, Eira's hair had turned white, and her eyes blue. She was cold enough to be unconscious from hypothermia, but didn't suffer from it. Food chilled when she touched it, but she didn't notice. Something was weird.
Deciding to take her to the shaman in the morning, the family settled down for the night. Morning came and Eira, cloaked and hooded, was accompanied by her father to the chieftain's home and requested to speak with the shaman. They were refused until Eira lowered her hood.
When the shaman came into the room and locked eyes with Eira, magic started moving. The entire house dropped thirty degrees in an instant, frost coating the walls and furniture, the heat stones simply fizzled out, the lanterns and candles flickered out. The old shaman should have worn the brown pants.
Without really knowing what she was doing, Eira walked over to the old shaman, put her hand over his heart, and put an icicle through it. "It hurts, don't it?", she asked as she pulled it out and the shaman fell back against the wall, his blood flowing like water from the hole in his chest. Her father and the chieftain's jaws hit the floor as Eira turned to the chieftain, "Now you have fewer people to worry about," she said as she left.
Knowing that she would be exiled for what she just did, Eira went home and began packing. Clothes, her bow, quiver, knife, a hatchet, some food, and some money, loading her belongings onto the hunting sledge. Her mother and sisters demanded to know what was going on, but Eira only told them she was leaving, it wasn't safe for the village with her around.
In a last ditch effort to keep Eira from leaving, her mother declared that Eira wasn't taking the dogs to drive that sledge. That was fine, they needed the dogs more, and it wasn't like she intended to return.
As Eira dragged her sledge out of town, her father and the chieftain had recovered their senses and were looking for her. To take her back and make her explain herself.
The blizzard didn't let them catch up.
The storm lasted for days, during which Eira trudged through the ever deepening snow towards a cavern she often stayed in while hunting. The cold didn't affect her. The snow seemed to help her move, parting or hardening as she moved to help her walk and move her sledge. She lacked wood for a fire, but the chill didn't bother her, so it wasn't too bad. While she waited out the blizzard, she practiced with the ice she now had. Where it came from took her a long time to understand, but by the time the blizzard passed she had enough control to not freeze everything she touched.
Which helped her avoid a potentially horrible situation when her hunting owl landed on her hood and pecked her forehead. "Hey, Eae." The bird hooted at her and flitted down to the sledge, landing on the quiver. The bird wanted to hunt.
That was how she made her living, trading furs and hides for coin and supplies. And she was good at it. Occasionally, some fool would attempt to rob or otherwise harass the hunter, and such was how she became a better cryokinetic.
Due to her nomadic lifestyle, traveling between towns and back to the wilds, she never stayed in one town long enough to build a local reputation, but stories traveled. Someone came running up to Eira and her sledge as she was leaving town. Eae, defensive as he was, flew at the man, clawing at his face and battering him with his wings.
He was a courier, as Eira learned when Eae finally let the man go and he regained his composure. Apparently he'd been trying to catch up with her for a while, but hadn't been able to find her because she never stayed in one place. He needed medical attention, so she followed him back into town and paid, he delivered his letter, and she read the letter. It was an invitation and some really poor directions to a guild.
Someone had gone through the trouble of tracking her down, she might as well find out what it was about.
Important Belongings:
Eae- (Pronounced AYY-uh) Eira's snowy owl. Once her hunting aid, now her companion. Eae's a bit of a goofball and somewhat territorial of his perch, his perch being Eira's head, shoulders, arm, or knee if she's sitting.
Bow and Arrows, Hatchet, and Knife, and a waterskin.

Accepted!

 

[Tigerman1211]

Name: Escan Galafey

Age: 22

Race: Half-Elf

Gender: Male

Appearance: Escan is about 5’10” and has green eyes with light brown hair, both of which will shift to a whiteish color when using his magic. While he isn’t scrawny, his brief time in the military could only do so much for a lanky bookworm like Escan, so he is only lightly built. His usual attire consists of wire-framed glasses, brown trousers, and a cuffed gray tunic, emblazoned on the back with the green “&” that signifies his position as a field medic.

Personality: Escan is cheerful and optimistic most of the time, but becomes serious when in combat or healing someone. Although he is an inherently friendly person, Escan dislikes those who are unnecessarily violent or cruel and is himself a pacifist who will only get violent to protect himself and those close to him. He is naturally curious and is constantly in search of new information and knowledge, no matter how useless, as well as being somewhat impulsive at times, as he makes many of his most important decisions on a whim.

Abilities and Skills:

Medicine: Escan was both a Healer’s apprentice and trained as a field medic for the Aery military, so he can heal or treat mild to moderate injuries, although major injuries and complex surgeries are beyond his current practical ability. He also has a working knowledge of the physiologies of all of the more prominent races.

Clerical: As an apprentice healer, Escan was made to do much of his master’s more tedious and routine documentation, communications and other such paperwork, and has become somewhat proficient in those kinds of things.

Bookworm: Escan spent most of his free time in Aery’s local libraries and has gathered a somewhat large amount of knowledge about various subjects. Sometimes this knowledge is useful, and other times it is just useless trivia.

Innate Magic(emptiness): as a result of the conditions of his catalyst, Escan’s magic is very limited and weak under most circumstances. Magic energy flows easily through him, like electricity through a conductor, allowing him to absorb, redirect, dissipate, and sense magic around him. He has very little magic energy of his own, all of his abilities are centered around the absorption of magic from external sources, whether it be from ambient magic or spells cast by other magic users. He has only a rudimentary understanding of his abilities, as he has only known he had them for about six months, despite having awakened them much earlier.

Backstory:
Escan hardly remembers his life before the Cave. Most of what he knows was told to him by his father, Pietro, and he didn’t know much of it anyways. It was some sad story about being raised in an orphanage, abandoned by his parents, and being forced into the town’s mines at a young age, but he didn’t really care for any of that. As far as he’s concerned, his life started when he fell into the Cave. Escan’s first real memories were in there, staring at the glowing crystals that littered the walls and ceiling, and feeling the magic of the Cave flowing through him. According to Pietro, he was in there for months before he was accidentally found by one of the other miner boys, dead to the world and as pale as a sheet. He would later realize that it was the time in the cave that activated his Innate Magic, as he had unconsciously been redirecting the ambient magic throughout his body, suffusing himself with energy and sustaining himself for the months he went without food or drink.
Escan’s next few memories are all centered around Pietro, a kindly doctor who both nursed him back to health and took him in, after a time. After staying in the town to take care of Escan for a few months, Pietro decided it was time to return to his home, the City of Aery. The next few years saw Escan apprenticing under Pietro, learning the arts of medicine and healing. Aery was, to him at least, a shining jewel of knowledge and learning, and over the next decade, he learned as much as he could about medicine, constantly learning and studying at Pietro’s side- that is, if he didn’t have his nose in a book at one of the city’s many libraries. The memories Escan made during those years are some of the happiest memories he has, it was a joyful time that he had hoped would never end, but like all good things, it came to an end when the Orcs showed up.
The tensions between the people of Aery and the nearby orcish horde had been increasing for many years, but nobody thought the orcs capable of organizing an attack. Somehow, though, they managed to raise enough of a force to completely surround the city, kicking off a month-long siege. During this time most of the young men of the city, including Escan, were drafted into military service to defend the walls, although due to his abilities as a healer, he was trained as a field medic instead of infantry. Although few people died, due to Aery’s defenses and talented doctors, many were injured on the walls. It was these people who Escan was assigned to look after, and keep alive long enough to get them to the medical tents. These were some of Escan’s worst memories, and the carnage he saw on the walls still haunts his dreams most nights.
Eventually, after a month of fighting, reinforcements from friendly cities managed to liberate Aery, driving the horde away. Most of the drafted troops were discharged but, on a whim, Escan decided to remain a field medic. He believed that he would be able to learn more from practical experience with the guards than from his books, for some reason. Regardless, he spent the next couple of years in the service of Aery's military, learning all he could and honing his abilities as a medic. It was during this time that Escan stumbled upon his forgotten magical abilities, accidentally redirecting a rogue mage’s fire spell while trying to protect a fellow soldier. He was given a token commendation for saving his comrade, but ultimately nothing changed and life went on as usual. This irritated Escan, who became fascinated with these newfound powers, and wished to learn more about them. After months of making no real progress in either his medical knowledge and magical ability, he decided that he needed to find somewhere else to learn about magic. So after saying farewell to his father, and receiving an old medical notebook as a farewell gift, he set out to find one of Sproutholm’s infamous magic guilds, because what better way to learn magic than from those guys, right?

Important Belongings:
Satchel with various medical supplies, Pietro’s medical notebook, wooden staff, and several overdue library books

 

[BlackoutThieving]

Name: Escan Galafey

Age: 22

Race: Half-Elf

Gender: Male

Appearance: Escan is about 5’10” and has green eyes with light brown hair, both of which will shift to a whiteish color when using his magic. While he isn’t scrawny, his brief time in the military could only do so much for a lanky bookworm like Escan, so he is only lightly built. His usual attire consists of wire-framed glasses, brown trousers, and a cuffed gray tunic, emblazoned on the back with the green “&” that signifies his position as a field medic.

Personality: Escan is cheerful and optimistic most of the time, but becomes serious when in combat or healing someone. Although he is an inherently friendly person, Escan dislikes those who are unnecessarily violent or cruel and is himself a pacifist who will only get violent to protect himself and those close to him. He is naturally curious and is constantly in search of new information and knowledge, no matter how useless, as well as being somewhat impulsive at times, as he makes many of his most important decisions on a whim.

Abilities and Skills:

Medicine: Escan was both a Healer’s apprentice and trained as a field medic for the Aery military, so he can heal or treat mild to moderate injuries, although major injuries and complex surgeries are beyond his current practical ability. He also has a working knowledge of the physiologies of all of the more prominent races.

Clerical: As an apprentice healer, Escan was made to do much of his master’s more tedious and routine documentation, communications and other such paperwork, and has become somewhat proficient in those kinds of things.

Bookworm: Escan spent most of his free time in Aery’s local libraries and has gathered a somewhat large amount of knowledge about various subjects. Sometimes this knowledge is useful, and other times it is just useless trivia.

Innate Magic(emptiness): as a result of the conditions of his catalyst, Escan’s magic is very limited and weak under most circumstances. Magic energy flows easily through him, like electricity through a conductor, allowing him to absorb, redirect, dissipate, and sense magic around him. He has very little magic energy of his own, all of his abilities are centered around the absorption of magic from external sources, whether it be from ambient magic or spells cast by other magic users. He has only a rudimentary understanding of his abilities, as he has only known he had them for about six months, despite having awakened them much earlier.

Backstory:
Escan hardly remembers his life before the Cave. Most of what he knows was told to him by his father, Pietro, and he didn’t know much of it anyways. It was some sad story about being raised in an orphanage, abandoned by his parents, and being forced into the town’s mines at a young age, but he didn’t really care for any of that. As far as he’s concerned, his life started when he fell into the Cave. Escan’s first real memories were in there, staring at the glowing crystals that littered the walls and ceiling, and feeling the magic of the Cave flowing through him. According to Pietro, he was in there for months before he was accidentally found by one of the other miner boys, dead to the world and as pale as a sheet. He would later realize that it was the time in the cave that activated his Innate Magic, as he had unconsciously been redirecting the ambient magic throughout his body, suffusing himself with energy and sustaining himself for the months he went without food or drink.
Escan’s next few memories are all centered around Pietro, a kindly doctor who both nursed him back to health and took him in, after a time. After staying in the town to take care of Escan for a few months, Pietro decided it was time to return to his home, the City of Aery. The next few years saw Escan apprenticing under Pietro, learning the arts of medicine and healing. Aery was, to him at least, a shining jewel of knowledge and learning, and over the next decade, he learned as much as he could about medicine, constantly learning and studying at Pietro’s side- that is, if he didn’t have his nose in a book at one of the city’s many libraries. The memories Escan made during those years are some of the happiest memories he has, it was a joyful time that he had hoped would never end, but like all good things, it came to an end when the Orcs showed up.
The tensions between the people of Aery and the nearby orcish horde had been increasing for many years, but nobody thought the orcs capable of organizing an attack. Somehow, though, they managed to raise enough of a force to completely surround the city, kicking off a month-long siege. During this time most of the young men of the city, including Escan, were drafted into military service to defend the walls, although due to his abilities as a healer, he was trained as a field medic instead of infantry. Although few people died, due to Aery’s defenses and talented doctors, many were injured on the walls. It was these people who Escan was assigned to look after, and keep alive long enough to get them to the medical tents. These were some of Escan’s worst memories, and the carnage he saw on the walls still haunts his dreams most nights.
Eventually, after a month of fighting, reinforcements from friendly cities managed to liberate Aery, driving the horde away. Most of the drafted troops were discharged but, on a whim, Escan decided to remain a field medic. He believed that he would be able to learn more from practical experience with the guards than from his books, for some reason. Regardless, he spent the next couple of years in the service of Aery's military, learning all he could and honing his abilities as a medic. It was during this time that Escan stumbled upon his forgotten magical abilities, accidentally redirecting a rogue mage’s fire spell while trying to protect a fellow soldier. He was given a token commendation for saving his comrade, but ultimately nothing changed and life went on as usual. This irritated Escan, who became fascinated with these newfound powers, and wished to learn more about them. After months of making no real progress in either his medical knowledge and magical ability, he decided that he needed to find somewhere else to learn about magic. So after saying farewell to his father, and receiving an old medical notebook as a farewell gift, he set out to find one of Sproutholm’s infamous magic guilds, because what better way to learn magic than from those guys, right?

Important Belongings:
Satchel with various medical supplies, Pietro’s medical notebook, wooden staff, and several overdue library books

Accepted!

 

[Aravini]

Name:
Zyk the Jester/ Zyk the Witch Hunter/ Zyk Ulric

Age:
26

Race:
Human

Gender:
Male

Appearance:
]
Zyk is a lanky man who stands at a height of 6'11. Most of the time he wears his jester suit that covers his entire body which consists of red and grey colouring, brown trousers and a small green overcoat. Due to a curse, Zyk has no face, only leaving behind a blank space of skin on his head. He hides his curse with his Jester mask which has a huge red grin and black intimidating painted eyes. Outside his suit, he has fairly tanned skin a black hair.

Spoiler: Jester Suit

Spoiler: Mask

Personality:
Zyk is a happy and jolly man that rarely shows any kind of negativity. In the most dangerous and dire situations, he would always try to make it seem like a joke or a fun game even if he was truly terrified.

Despite his jester appearance, he is an engineer at heart. He has a fascination with technology and creation, even going so far as to reject magic, preferring to use things of creation instead of the unnatural elements.

Often he would make jokes out of a person's expense and rarely stop with his jester persona, unless when talking to someone special or when facing down a witch, where he has a more threatening and sadistic personality.

Abilities and Skills:
-With the right equipment, Zyk could create almost any gadgets and devices needed to assist him and his allies on a mission.
-Zyk's body is extremely flexible, allowing him to fit in very small spaces if needed to and even assist him in fights.
-Despite what he is perceived to be, Zyk is able to use a sword quite well and even keep himself up in a duel as he practised once he started his vendetta against witches.
-Zyk has great aim when using any projectile weapons as long as they are mechanical (Dart guns, Crossbows, other similar weapons.)

Backstory:
Zyk had a simple life.

He was an orphan who lived in the streets for years and had good nack on comedy. To make money, he became a street Jester who would entertain anyone who's willing to pay him. A lot of people loved his acts, his street jester credits became massive, massive enough that even a few royals were willing to pay for him to entertain them.

In his teenage years, he gained a fascination for engineering and technology when he visited the fair in a local town where they displayed all types of technology.
His soon started confronting scholars to teach him engineering, exchanging his services which either involves being their servant or entertaining them. Most of the time the scholars either reject him or only taught him very simple things, but some were willing to give him a chance and teach him properly, making him learn proper skills and techniques.

His scholarship, however, was cut short when he tried to confront a cruel witch who instead cursed him, making his face vanish. His Jester job became difficult as his unnatural appearance made people uncomfortable and scholars rejected him as his curse drove them away. His life was ruined...until he gained a new purpose. He swore vengeance to that abuse their magic to hurt the innocent, he would use engineering to beat magic. His jester life was no more, he was now the witch hunter.

Over the years he had gained a new title, the Jester who hunts the wicked. He had created tools to help him on his hunt, gaining funds through mercenary jobs or on special occasions, entertaining those who were willing to pay.

During his time on the market, someone had picked pocket him. Some of his golds were gone and they were replaced instead with a letter. The letter was an invitation to a guild he had never heard off before and had terribly explained directions to the said guild. This could be promising, being part of the guild will allow him better pay and a better way to hunt the wicked. Zyk packed up his belongings and headed to the guild, he was sceptical about it but all the opportunities that came with it was a hard pass.

Important Belongings:
Arrow Gauntlet: A bronze gauntlet on his
left arm that could do two things. One is to fire two darts at once with great speed and power, the other objective of the device could is to fire a grappling claw which would propel Zyk to anything it is attached or pulls up objects or people towards him.

Flaming Jester Cane: A bronze coloured, mechanised cane where the head, shaped like a jester's head, has sharp parts and could be engulfed in flames using oil as fuel. Zyk loves using it on witches. The cane acts more of a flaming mace than an actual cane.

Bomb Balls: Bomb balls seems like regular juggling balls but are embedded with a small explosive inside it. When someone squeezes a ball hard enough, the bomb inside would be ignited and would have a 5-second fuse before exploding. The explosion is small but could seriously damage anyone who's close to it.

Jester Mask: His jester mask is used to hide his curse.

Leather Handbag: He has a leather handbag filled with coins, darts, and extra tools and parts for his gadgets.

 

[BlackoutThieving]

Name:
Zyk the Jester/ Zyk the Witch Hunter/ Zyk Ulric

Age:
26

Race:
Human

Gender:
Male

Appearance:
]View attachment 687927
Zyk is a lanky man who stands at a height of 6'11. Most of the time he wears his jester suit that covers his entire body which consists of red and grey colouring, brown trousers and a small green overcoat. Due to a curse, Zyk has no face, only leaving behind a blank space of skin on his head. He hides his curse with his Jester mask which has a huge red grin and black intimidating painted eyes. Outside his suit, he has fairly tanned skin a black hair.

Spoiler: Jester Suit

View attachment 687928

Spoiler: Mask

View attachment 687929

Personality:
Zyk is a happy and jolly man that rarely shows any kind of negativity. In the most dangerous and dire situations, he would always try to make it seem like a joke or a fun game even if he was truly terrified.

Despite his jester appearance, he is an engineer at heart. He has a fascination with technology and creation, even going so far as to reject magic, preferring to use things of creation instead of the unnatural elements.

Often he would make jokes out of a person's expense and rarely stop with his jester persona, unless when talking to someone special or when facing down a witch, where he has a more threatening and sadistic personality.

Abilities and Skills:
-With the right equipment, Zyk could create almost any gadgets and devices needed to assist him and his allies on a mission.
-Zyk's body is extremely flexible, allowing him to fit in very small spaces if needed to and even assist him in fights.
-Despite what he is perceived to be, Zyk is able to use a sword quite well and even keep himself up in a duel as he practised once he started his vendetta against witches.
-Zyk has great aim when using any projectile weapons as long as they are mechanical (Dart guns, Crossbows, other similar weapons.)

Backstory:
Zyk had a simple life.

He was an orphan who lived in the streets for years and had good nack on comedy. To make money, he became a street Jester who would entertain anyone who's willing to pay him. A lot of people loved his acts, his street jester credits became massive, massive enough that even a few royals were willing to pay for him to entertain them.

In his teenage years, he gained a fascination for engineering and technology when he visited the fair in a local town where they displayed all types of technology.
His soon started confronting scholars to teach him engineering, exchanging his services which either involves being their servant or entertaining them. Most of the time the scholars either reject him or only taught him very simple things, but some were willing to give him a chance and teach him properly, making him learn proper skills and techniques.

His scholarship, however, was cut short when he tried to confront a cruel witch who instead cursed him, making his face vanish. His Jester job became difficult as his unnatural appearance made people uncomfortable and scholars rejected him as his curse drove them away. His life was ruined...until he gained a new purpose. He swore vengeance to that abuse their magic to hurt the innocent, he would use engineering to beat magic. His jester life was no more, he was now the witch hunter.

Over the years he had gained a new title, the Jester who hunts the wicked. He had created tools to help him on his hunt, gaining funds through mercenary jobs or on special occasions, entertaining those who were willing to pay.

During his time on the market, someone had picked pocket him. Some of his golds were gone and they were replaced instead with a letter. The letter was an invitation to a guild he had never heard off before and had terribly explained directions to the said guild. This could be promising, being part of the guild will allow him better pay and a better way to hunt the wicked. Zyk packed up his belongings and headed to the guild, he was sceptical about it but all the opportunities that came with it was a hard pass.

Important Belongings:
Arrow Gauntlet: A bronze gauntlet on his
left arm that could do two things. One is to fire two darts at once with great speed and power, the other objective of the device could is to fire a grappling claw which would propel Zyk to anything it is attached or pulls up objects or people towards him.

Flaming Jester Cane: A bronze coloured, mechanised cane where the head, shaped like a jester's head, has sharp parts and could be engulfed in flames using oil as fuel. Zyk loves using it on witches. The cane acts more of a flaming mace than an actual cane.

Bomb Balls: Bomb balls seems like regular juggling balls but are embedded with a small explosive inside it. When someone squeezes a ball hard enough, the bomb inside would be ignited and would have a 5-second fuse before exploding. The explosion is small but could seriously damage anyone who's close to it.

Jester Mask: His jester mask is used to hide his curse.

Leather Handbag: He has a leather handbag filled with coins, darts, and extra tools and parts for his gadgets.

Accepted!

 

[RedLeftHand36]

Name: Aldous Von Krähen, usually referred to as Aldous the Crow

Age: 39

Race: Human

Gender: Male

Appearance:


Height: 209 cm

Weight: 124 kg

Build: Thin and lean, albeit somewhat muscular

Notable features: Extremely pale, with naturally white hair and extremely light blue-grey eyes, giving him a rather ghostly appearance. Has quite a few scars along his body, as well. These features make him look a bit older than he is.

Voice: "Shall we begin?"

Theme song!!!: "Potestatem Per Sanguine"


Personality:
To say Aldous is an eccentric person is an understatement, at the very least. The rather bizarre, self-described doctor craves knowledge beyond all else, seeing every occurrence in his eyes as various experiments, no matter how tame and mild they may be. While usually rather quiet, plenty of times shutting himself away from others with tomes of knowledge, or conducting his experiments when not in need of "human independent variables", alone, in quiet, this is offset by his tendency to often interact with others, usually in a manner of observation, and plenty of times inappropriately so, purely out of curiosity. It is also important to note his particular interest in oddities; The stranger something is, the more intent his interest is. As is Aldous, much of his affection for others is presented in the same way, often prying over them. He notably has a soft spot for the many types of small creatures that are denoted as undesirable or repulsive, the inverse of charismatic creatures that so many already adore. Insects, vermin, pests, many species with these kinds of labels. For in Aldous' eyes, they are all important, serving their niche roles in their ecosystems, providing balance, and ensuring the natural changes in a healthy manner. In his interest to understand the various, complicated aspects of all things, Aldous has a great understanding of others, be it animals or one of the myriad of sentient races in the world. Most importantly, Aldous believes that there is nothing wrong dabbling in dark magic to do good deeds, and loves learning secret and forbidden forms of the arcane.

Abilities and Skills: Aldous is adept at darker forms of magic, particularly utilizing his blood. Aldous is capable of utilizing necromantic spells through his blood, and often uses this to reanimate small, dead creatures, or otherwise have some sort of control or magical bond between himself and living creatures that partake of his blood. For living creatures, he often feeds them solidified pellets of his blood, continuing the bond, and sometimes strengthening it depending how the consistency of the feeding. On the other hand, he is capable to telekinetically manipulating and solidifying his blood to form tools and weaponry. Further, his blood can be quite poisonous unless he removes the toxins out of a specific amount of blood, and can seep into an enemy's wounds, and affect them rather quickly. The toxins of his blood slowly eat away at wounds and a small portion of their surroundings, to an extant, through a form of magical necrosis, and due to its dark and arcane nature, render the wounds untreatable save through magical means. While the toxin is quickly applied and nigh immediately starts attacking the body's cells, the cellular degradation process itself is somewhat slow. Other than all that, Aldous is extremely intelligent, with great insight on histories, the arcane, and the various sciences of the world, particularly the biology and anatomy of the various creatures that inhabit the realm, and well gifted in the knowledge of the body and mind of the different inhabiting races of sentient beings. Despite his height, he is particularly fast and light on his feet, fond of creeping and stalking through the shadows. On another note, it might sometimes be important to tell of Aldous' rather masochistic nature, which means, although he's certainly not the most physical type, he can certainly take a punch, and might even enjoy it.


Backstory: 39 years ago, an infant child was tossed out into the cold winter snow for unknown reasons. And like all discarded litter on the street, it was picked up, and put in a proper place. An strange and quiet boy, Aldous lived his youth in the grey light and cold shadows of an orphanage in Chronus, a coastal city in the north-east coast, often remarked to be as tall as it is wide; While it is a wealthy city, its borders are quite small, known for its dark and beautiful Gothic architecture, and a culture fitting of such architecture, filled with grim poets, morose artists, theatres, choirs, and great scholars. It would merely take a glance to see this was once home for Aldous. And though it was grand, it was cold and grey. Childhood was the most grey time of all. Quiet, cold, hidden in the dark. Aldous never spoke. The other children always passed him like a lingering shadow, sometimes glancing at eyes too cold and grey and quiet for them to trust. And for the longest time, that's what Aldous was: Cold and grey and quiet. And yet despite being treated like a mishap shadow, he was more of a ghost, pale of skin, hair so light coloured it was almost white, and pale eyes, incapable of understanding how to convey emotion. Even the adults treated him like a lingering mass of fog; passing glances if distrust, and nothing more... not a word. Aldous met the night in wake with greater comfort. People preferred the daytime, after all. Lit by moonlight and candlelight, Aldous found solace in books, helping him better understand the world around him, and finding new information to help his discomforts. Young Aldous believed himself to be essentially hollow, void of any colour, of any humanity, and thus the reason why he barely seemed to exist beyond all those brief, cold glances, like someone might have thought they saw something, but were wrong. If he could become more of a human, maybe he would exist. Of course, one could only find so many books lying around, and thus Aldous found a place of comfort and solitude, a home away from from the orphanage: The Coeus Grand Archives, a library of immense size, filled with a truly magnificent array of books, scrolls, and every other form of recording of information one could imagine. It was here Aldous spent near all his waking hours, reading book upon book to fill his mind. Here, Aldous forged his own self, preparing himself for a world learned only within dusty old pages, intent on setting out to expand his knowledge. The world was vast, he knew this much. Though still quite young, he left the orphanage at last, vanishing in the morning light without a trace, and headed out into the wilderness with his few belongings. With his formed knowledge, Aldous set out into the rural country, finding shelter at the occasional inn, or improvising a makeshift camp, making money by hunting, fishing, and selling his catches, and occasionally crafting basic potions with whatever ingredients he could find. He never stayed in one place for too long, and very, very rarely found himself in the same place more than once. But all of it seems a distant memory, in comparison to the day when everything changed. Far to the north, hidden within the mountains, laid a small, dreary village. A very notable aspect of the village was the fact that a majority of the land was an entire graveyard, filled with tombs and gravestones. Rain constantly poured down onto the village, and there was rarely a moment where fog did not swirl and churn about. Here, Aldous heard rumors of a necromancer, a scholar of dark and forbidden knowledge. And as a seeker of knowledge, Aldous decided to make it his mission to find that necromancer, and gain what knowledge he could. It was a fateful, and particularly cold afternoon, when Aldous discovered what one would initially assume to be a mine, though through brief inspection, it was, in fact, the entrance to a large network of catacombs that wormed their way beneath the village. In the dark and damp depths, lit by fiery torch, footsteps trampled ancient bones, crunching as Aldous went forth further and further into the belly of the skeleton pit. But it was strange; one would have thought a stranger entering the lair of a necromancer would have warranted an unwelcoming reaction, but when Aldous found himself standing in candlelight, facing towards an old, grey haired man writing upon parchment on a desk piled on by books, notes, and various ingredient filled glass jars, it seemed that he was even expected. There, at that moment, Aldous' heart skipped a beat as the man who would become a mentor turned to face him. Amadeus, more than a necromancer; The man was a scholar a magic old and dark, and, as Aldous would learn, on the precipice of a transformation that would not only alter himself, in the manner of a lich among liches, but possibly alter the realm of magic entirely, and maybe even the world itself. And it was fortune that smiled upon young Aldous, as Amadeus, seeing potential in the boy's great hunger for knowledge, so discreetly took him under his wing. Aldous thrived, learning the secrets of the dark and feared forms of the arcane, voraciously consuming what knowledge was lended to him, with a keen and nigh instinctual ability to learn. Poisons and blood rituals seemed particularly important to the various rites, and blossoming over some amount of years. But alas, it all would not last. Within the dark woods not all too far from where they had met and Aldous had studied in sanctuary, Amadeus and he had set out for a myriad of reasons. But who could foresee the treacherous circumstance of a large troop of knights, the strange recognizing of Amadeus as a rogue court sorcerer who had killed a lord, the cuts and wounds that ensued all too quickly, the fall down a deep ravine and into a rapid river, smashing and crashing into the jagged rocks, and spilling out over a waterfall? They were far too unprepared. They were far too slow. And they were more than half dead, bleeding profusely. With his last strength, it was Amadeus who crawled, and dripped his blood over Aldous. Chants. Blood. Ritual. With what little he had, in strength, in blood, in ability, Amadeus gave himself for Aldous. And the words echoed: "With this blood of ours, you shall live, and though my flesh will die and rot, my own blood, my own spirit, shall be laid anew within thee. A new age, Aldous. Through you, I shall be victorious. Through me, you will find great power, and greater knowledge." Blood, both of Amadeus, and Aldous, seeped into Aldous. Strength regained. And Amadeus embraced death with a smile. And so the crow flew onwards. The labyrinthine catacombs could no longer be sanctuary. Taking what he could, Aldous burned the rest, and Aldous the Crow again flew onwards. As the years passed, Aldous fashioned himself within the shadows and alleyways of civilization, sometimes a back-alley doctor, sometimes a hired thug of sorts, occasionally a mercenary, even, and plenty even an adventurer, and using his gained resources to further expand his knowledge, seeking out the darker aspects of arcane knowledge. One of his tricks that he had learned comparatively recently was the blood binding between him and small animals through his blood. While maintaining an actual relationship of affection between himself and these creatures, he often used them to find information. Imagine his surprise when this system was used to communicate with him. A letter of directions to an arcane guild. Though suspicious, Aldous could not help his curiosity. And if it was legitimate? Perhaps it could open a whole new world of possibilities.


Important Belongings:

• Plague Doctor's uniform
• Alchemist's kit
  • Various potion bottles
  • A mortar and pestle
  • Liquid flasks
  • Small jars of various herbs, powders, and animal products
• "Medical" kit - Seems more appropriate for torture than medical applications
  • Bone saw
  • Pliers
  • Scalpel
  • Syringes
  • Cauterizing torch
  • Cauterizing metal file
  • "Blood pills", magically enhance pellets of crystallized blood [with a few extra ingredients within], made to assist in the reproduction of blood cells dramatically, capable of restoring large quantities of lost blood within a particularly short time frame.
• A bandolier belt and side-pack to carry these things.

 

[BlackoutThieving]

Name: Aldous Von Krähen, usually referred to as Aldous the Crow

Age: 39

Race: Human

Gender: Male

Appearance:
View attachment 688359View attachment 688360

Height: 209 cm

Weight: 124 kg

Build: Thin and lean, albeit somewhat muscular

Notable features: Extremely pale, with naturally white hair and extremely light blue-grey eyes, giving him a rather ghostly appearance. Has quite a few scars along his body, as well. These features make him look a bit older than he is.

Voice: "Shall we begin?"

Theme song!!!: "Potestatem Per Sanguine"


Personality:
To say Aldous is an eccentric person is an understatement, at the very least. The rather bizarre, self-described doctor craves knowledge beyond all else, seeing every occurrence in his eyes as various experiments, no matter how tame and mild they may be. While usually rather quiet, plenty of times shutting himself away from others with tomes of knowledge, or conducting his experiments when not in need of "human independent variables", alone, in quiet, this is offset by his tendency to often interact with others, usually in a manner of observation, and plenty of times inappropriately so, purely out of curiosity. It is also important to note his particular interest in oddities; The stranger something is, the more intent his interest is. As is Aldous, much of his affection for others is presented in the same way, often prying over them. He notably has a soft spot for the many types of small creatures that are denoted as undesirable or repulsive, the inverse of charismatic creatures that so many already adore. Insects, vermin, pests, many species with these kinds of labels. For in Aldous' eyes, they are all important, serving their niche roles in their ecosystems, providing balance, and ensuring the natural changes in a healthy manner. In his interest to understand the various, complicated aspects of all things, Aldous has a great understanding of others, be it animals or one of the myriad of sentient races in the world. Most importantly, Aldous believes that there is nothing wrong dabbling in dark magic to do good deeds, and loves learning secret and forbidden forms of the arcane.

Abilities and Skills: Aldous is adept at darker forms of magic, particularly utilizing his blood. Aldous is capable of utilizing necromantic spells through his blood, and often uses this to reanimate small, dead creatures, or otherwise have some sort of control or magical bond between himself and living creatures that partake of his blood. For living creatures, he often feeds them solidified pellets of his blood, continuing the bond, and sometimes strengthening it depending how the consistency of the feeding. On the other hand, he is capable to telekinetically manipulating and solidifying his blood to form tools and weaponry. Further, his blood can be quite poisonous unless he removes the toxins out of a specific amount of blood, and can seep into an enemy's wounds, and affect them rather quickly. Other than all that, Aldous is extremely intelligent, with great insight on histories, the arcane, and the various sciences of the world, particularly the biology and anatomy of the various creatures that inhabit the realm, and well gifted in the knowledge of the body and mind of the different inhabiting races of sentient beings. Despite his height, he is particularly fast and light on his feet, fond of creeping and stalking through the shadows. On another note, it might sometimes be important to tell of Aldous' rather masochistic nature, which means, although he's certainly not the most physical type, he can certainly take a punch, and might even enjoy it.


Backstory: 36 years ago, an infant child was tossed out into the cold winter snow for unknown reasons. And like all discarded litter on the street, it was picked up, and put in a proper place. An strange and quiet boy, Aldous lived his youth in the grey light and cold shadows of an orphanage in Chronus, a coastal city in the north-east coast, often remarked to be as tall as it is wide; While it is a wealthy city, its borders are quite small, known for its dark and beautiful Gothic architecture, and a culture fitting of such architecture, filled with grim poets, morose artists, theatres, choirs, and great scholars. It would merely take a glance to see this was once home for Aldous. And though it was grand, it was cold and grey. Childhood was the most grey time of all. Quiet, cold, hidden in the dark. Aldous never spoke. The other children always passed him like a lingering shadow, sometimes glancing at eyes too cold and grey and quiet for them to trust. And for the longest time, that's what Aldous was: Cold and grey and quiet. And yet despite being treated like a mishap shadow, he was more of a ghost, pale of skin, hair so light coloured it was almost white, and pale eyes, incapable of understanding how to convey emotion. Even the adults treated him like a lingering mass of fog; passing glances if distrust, and nothing more... not a word. Aldous met the night in wake with greater comfort. People preferred the daytime, after all. Lit by moonlight and candlelight, Aldous found solace in books, helping him better understand the world around him, and finding new information to help his discomforts. Young Aldous believed himself to be essentially hollow, void of any colour, of any humanity, and thus the reason why he barely seemed to exist beyond all those brief, cold glances, like someone might have thought they saw something, but were wrong. If he could become more of a human, maybe he would exist. Of course, one could only find so many books lying around, and thus Aldous found a place of comfort and solitude, a home away from from the orphanage: The Coeus Grand Archives, a library of immense size, filled with a truly magnificent array of books, scrolls, and every other form of recording of information one could imagine. It was here Aldous spent near all his waking hours, reading book upon book to fill his mind. Here, Aldous forged his own self, preparing himself for a world learned only within dusty old pages, intent on setting out to expand his knowledge. The world was vast, he knew this much. Though still quite young, he left the orphanage at last, vanishing in the morning light without a trace, and headed out into the wilderness with his few belongings. With his formed knowledge, Aldous set out into the rural country, finding shelter at the occasional inn, or improvising a makeshift camp, making money by hunting, fishing, and selling his catches, and occasionally crafting basic potions with whatever ingredients he could find. He never stayed in one place for too long, and very, very rarely found himself in the same place more than once. But all of it seems a distant memory, in comparison to the day when everything changed. Far to the north, hidden within the mountains, laid a small, dreary village. A very notable aspect of the village was the fact that a majority of the land was an entire graveyard, filled with tombs and gravestones. Rain constantly poured down onto the village, and there was rarely a moment where fog did not swirl and churn about. Here, Aldous heard rumors of a necromancer, a scholar of dark and forbidden knowledge. And as a seeker of knowledge, Aldous decided to make it his mission to find that necromancer, and gain what knowledge he could. It was a fateful, and particularly cold afternoon, when Aldous discovered what one would initially assume to be a mine, though through brief inspection, it was, in fact, the entrance to a large network of catacombs that wormed their way beneath the village. In the dark and damp depths, lit by fiery torch, footsteps trampled ancient bones, crunching as Aldous went forth further and further into the belly of the skeleton pit. But it was strange; one would have thought a stranger entering the lair of a necromancer would have warranted an unwelcoming reaction, but when Aldous found himself standing in candlelight, facing towards an old, grey haired man writing upon parchment on a desk piled on by books, notes, and various ingredient filled glass jars, it seemed that he was even expected. There, at that moment, Aldous' heart skipped a beat as the man who would become a mentor turned to face him. Amadeus, more than a necromancer; The man was a scholar a magic old and dark, and, as Aldous would learn, on the precipice of a transformation that would not only alter himself, in the manner of a lich among liches, but possibly alter the realm of magic entirely, and maybe even the world itself. And it was fortune that smiled upon young Aldous, as Amadeus, seeing potential in the boy's great hunger for knowledge, so discreetly took him under his wing. Aldous thrived, learning the secrets of the dark and feared forms of the arcane, voraciously consuming what knowledge was lended to him, with a keen and nigh instinctual ability to learn. Poisons and blood rituals seemed particularly important to the various rites, and blossoming over some amount of years. But alas, it all would not last. Within the dark woods not all too far from where they had met and Aldous had studied in sanctuary, Amadeus and he had set out for a myriad of reasons. But who could foresee the treacherous circumstance of a large troop of knights, the strange recognizing of Amadeus as a rogue court sorcerer who had killed a lord, the cuts and wounds that ensued all too quickly, the fall down a deep ravine and into a rapid river, smashing and crashing into the jagged rocks, and spilling out over a waterfall? They were far too unprepared. They were far too slow. And they were more than half dead, bleeding profusely. With his last strength, it was Amadeus who crawled, and dripped his blood over Aldous. Chants. Blood. Ritual. With what little he had, in strength, in blood, in ability, Amadeus gave himself for Aldous. And the words echoed: "With this blood of ours, you shall live, and though my flesh will die and rot, my own blood, my own spirit, shall be laid anew within thee. A new age, Aldous. Through you, I shall be victorious. Through me, you will find great power, and greater knowledge." Blood, both of Amadeus, and Aldous, seeped into Aldous. Strength regained. And Amadeus embraced death with a smile. And so the crow flew onwards. The labyrinthine catacombs could no longer be sanctuary. Taking what he could, Aldous burned the rest, and Aldous the Crow again flew onwards. As the years passed, Aldous fashioned himself within the shadows and alleyways of civilization, sometimes a back-alley doctor, sometimes a hired thug of sorts, occasionally a mercenary, even, and plenty even an adventurer, and using his gained resources to further expand his knowledge, seeking out the darker aspects of arcane knowledge. One of his tricks that he had learned comparatively recently was the blood binding between him and small animals through his blood. While maintaining an actual relationship of affection between himself and these creatures, he often used them to find information. Imagine his surprise when this system was used to communicate with him. A letter of directions to an arcane guild. Though suspicious, Aldous could not help his curiosity. And if it was legitimate? Perhaps it could open a whole new world of possibilities.


Important Belongings:

• Plague Doctor's uniform
• Alchemist's kit
  • Various potion bottles
  • A mortar and pestle
  • Liquid flasks
  • Small jars of various herbs, powders, and animal products
• "Medical" kit - Seems more appropriate for torture than medical applications
  • Bone saw
  • Pliers
  • Scalpel
  • Syringes
  • Cauterizing torch
  • Cauterizing metal file
  • "Blood pills", magically enhance pellets of crystallized blood [with a few extra ingredients within], made to assist in the reproduction of blood cells dramatically, capable of restoring large quantities of lost blood within a particularly short time frame.
• A bandolier belt and side-pack to carry these things.

Accepted!