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Fantasy ~Journey~ Character Page



Tende altum, volare altius

Art by Chaoyuanxu

Interest Check

Character building chat


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

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

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

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

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

- Please state your character’s abilities clearly and in good detail, and remember that they cannot be too powerful at the start of the game.

- I am looking for engagement and character interaction, so characters described as “antisocial” or “not good in a team” will be automatically rejected. The demon characters in this thread are expected to follow the direction of the gods and of the humans they travel with, they can’t opt out.

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

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

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

  • Name:

    Race: (human, or a specific kind of demon or spirit)


    Appearance: (description or picture), if a demon, state what the ornament is and where it is worn.

    Skills and abilities: (This is both combat skills, magic and general talents and hobbies)

    Weapons and items:

    Personality: (minimum 2 paragraphs, likes, dislikes, motivations, how to make them happy, angry etc.)

    Backstory: (minimum 2 paragraphs, if playing a human, include how you were recruited for this quest, and if playing a demon, you must include the story of how the god queen bested you and trapped you in the power-restricting ornament).

    Personal goals: What does your character want?

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

Name: O’Korro, but most know him as just “Wolf”.

Race: Demon (winter demon)

Age: 253

Appearance: Korro looks human enough; about 24, he is of average height, but it is difficult to tell because he rarely stands straight, and crouches when at rest. His frame is sturdy but lean and wiry, betraying hardships in the recent past. His hair begins white at the roots, and quickly deepens to ash-grey and then black at the tips. It is long, but because it is so course and thick, he has trouble keeping it tied back, and pointed pieces of it are always playing about his cheeks and neck. His face is regal, if often a little dirty, and there is a cluster of freckles flecked across the bridge of his nose. His eyebrows are thick and also white-grey and his eyes are a deep, imposing yellow. His pointed canine teeth are revealed when he smiles and he walks with the air of something dangerous, the coiled, calculating energy of a predator. Korro’s clothes are made of fur and leather mostly, he has a dark, boar-hide vest, covered with a short cloak of black wolf fur. His trousers are wool, and tied off at the knee with leather bracers. He generally does not wear shoes, but prefers the ground on his feet, and the cold does not seem to bother him at all. Korro carries a hunting bow and a weighted blade, made to break the bones of large animals. The gold torc is around his neck, and is the most flamboyant thing on his person. He tries to hide it beneath the fur of his cloak whenever he can.

  • Korro wolf form (1).png
    Korro’s powers are much diminished since being trapped by the God queen: he cannot transform into his full monster form, his keen smell and hearing are now simply mediocre, and he only retains a fraction of his former strength. That said, he still has the strength of four human men, and this can be deadly when put behind his weapons. His bow is so strong a regular human could not even draw it. Korro can jump fairly large distances too, and run tirelessly for a day.

    His only alternate form for now is a lanky, white-grey wolf with deep yellow eyes. There is a very fine blue sheen to his fur in a certain light, the only thing giving him away as a demon, and not a regular wolf.

    Korro is an accomplished hunter, even after losing his keen senses. He is good with knots, and cleaning game.

    Korro is not a bad hand at weaving, and if he has the thread, can weave anything from ropes to baskets, decorative bracelets and small works of art.

    2 retained abilities:

    Korro can summon and speak to wolves. They make excellent scouts, when they can be found.

    Korro is a demon of winter and cold. He can imbue his blade or wolf bite with a freezing power for extra damage, especially against nature demons or spirits. This also prevents him from taking cold-related damage. He is quite comfortable living in snow for days with little else but the clothing on his back. In contrast however, he does not do well in heat, and is vulnerable to fire magic.

    Weapons and items:

    Korro carries a strong wooden hunting bow, carved with an inscription down the side. It isn’t in any common language, but may be one used by demons.

    Korro also carries a single-edged blade that is weighted on the dull side to lend strength to the blow. It is wide, and as good for defending as attacking. The blade is made of a strange blue crystal material, but the hilt is plain hardwood bound in leather.

    A small pendant of the same blue crystal is tied about his neck, kept hidden under his vest. It is rough-hewn and sharp, and is always cold to the touch.
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  • Name: Falarion

    Sun Wukong.png

    Race: Shapeshifting Demon

    Age: Appears to be in his young 20s

    Appearance: While mostly appearing human, he also sports a lion's tail. He has to be mindful of his tail, as he sometimes forgets he has one and can be rather clumsy. You'd think he'd be more aware after being around for a long time, but no. He isn't.
    His usual attire sticks very closely to what is pictured above. He is not afraid to show off his body and makes that a point with how he dresses. His ornament is a gold chain that he wears along his belt loop in his human form and it appears around his neck in his beast forms, changing size according to which form he takes.
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Too high? Ha! If you look up and there's nothing but sky above and mountain below, then congratulations, you're just high enough.

Koralia Stormcaller
25 / Asexual Female / Human
Lithe and scrappy, Koralia's hair is a dirty brown and cut short to crop just above her shoulders, an attempt to keep it out of the way when fighting. Her eyes are a stormy grey hue, and her skin a tan colour, a harsh consequence from her time outside on the mountains in the snow-reflected sunlight. She has a few scars on her arms and face from various previous scraps and attacks, as well as a birthmark on her neck. Her outfit is one of cold weather preparedness, with fur around every opening and the only exposed skin being that of her neck. Her leather cloak is padded and lightly armouered for her defense, but is primarily for weather protection rather than combat protection.

Koralia is a monk of gales, a relgious group that can control and manipulate wind and lighting to great effect. She revels in the abilities her worship has granted her, and treats it more as a reward for her service than a gift for her worship. She trusts the gods implicitly, and for her being asked to carry out a task for them is a point of pride, one she takes very seriously. She isn't above reprimanding others who may not take it as such an important task, and tries very hard to appeal to the Gods for any mistakes or wavers in their journey.

That said, outside of things that directly affect this God given quest, she is more relaxed, willing to joke and tease. Her younger age is very apparent and she is eager to learn and experience things that she hasn't heard of or seen before, especially things in the realm of demons. She also recognises the need to enjoy life, and will happily steer towards fun distractions: natural springs, waterfalls, beautiful views, all things that she finds inspiring and morale raising, and hopefully others would to! Her major downfall is her overconfidence in her abilities and her habit of bragging about her own talents. It would be charming if she knew when to stop, and she often annouces her beliefs that anything they can do, she can do better.

From a relativley young age, Koralia grew up with the Gale Monks, a nomadic group that travel across mountain ranges, following the wind currents and storms wherever they occur, taking them as divine signs (and often finding signs upon reaching such a storm) and working with nature. As she travelled, her kin trained her to be a Stormcaller, a warrior capable of heralding and redirecting storms. These abilities were not offered to everyone within the tribe, only those that had shown excellent tenacity at withstanding the environments associated with storms, blistering winds, cold stinging rain and the booms of thunder.

The training process was difficult, but at the end of it she was also introduced to Maeldon, a minor god of the wilds. Maeldon and Koralia took a shining to one another, and she followed what signs he left dilligently, something she says as a debt the God would repay for her years of service as a stormcaller. And, foolishly, she took a shining to him. When the God Queen sundered the demons of the world and forced them to flee or restore light, Koralia saw in it an opportunity to meet her idol in person, to know him in person. Willing to go on this quest, she was directed towards a group attempting to do the same under the request of the God Queen, and is all but too happy to join the quest.

Skills and Abilities

General Skills
Navigation and Travel: Having travelled most of her life around the world, it can certainly benefit ones athletic ability.
Endurance: Koralia can travel for longer than most humans when hiking, and her lungs are naturally acclimitised to higher altitudes, which means she doesn't struggle when climbing larger heights and can travel for longer.
All Terrain: Koralia is a capalbe Rock Climber and Stream Fjorder, more than willing to forge ahead without ropes in order to place pitons or safety lines for others.
Foraging: Koralia knows how and where to find food in the wilds if neccesary.

Combat Skills
Long Range Combat: Training with a weapon is mandatory for the monks, and Koralia's weapon of chioce is a set of simple throwing knives, preferring to strike at a distance quickly and impair rather than outright kill an opponent. Once they are slowed, she will take the time to strike in melee with her more magical means.

Magical Skills:
Lightning Manipulation: Koralia can add lighting to her knives, shocking opponents that she hits, as well as throwing lighting itself without a knife, though this process takes a lot out of her.
- Stormcallers can manifest themselves into a bolt of lightning to travel quickly across the land (false, though Koralia did once throw one across a room)
- Koralia can't manipulate water (True, she can only directly control wind and lightning)
- Koralia can change the weather (True in theory, in practice it may require more than 1 monk)

Personal Goals
- Koralia seeks to complete the duty granted by the Gods to her
- Koralia wants to meet and learn from other world beings, Demons and the like.

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Name: Zero


Age: 24 years old


- Close quarters combat: Zero being trained by many Notorious Warriors and Fightersin his family gave him a knack for up close and personal combat. He is an extremely talented striker but an even better defensive fighter excelling at capitalizing on counterattacks and taking advantage of nearly any opportunity presented to him.

- Tracking/Hunting : Zero memorizes characteristics, preferences, and habits of whatever he puts his mind too after a while making it fairly easy to piece together the direction something is headed or it’s probable location.

- Strategizing: A power thinker to say in short, Zero is one to put his brain to work before his brawn only to try and insure he is victorious due to the fact it could mean life or death in these times, so in his mind there’s no room for half baked ideas.


- physical Enhancement: an ability granted to him by the God of Strength and courage that allows him a great physical boost to his strength, speed, and dexterity. Though it’s a great tool it is a double edge sword Zero can only use Physical Enhancement in moments of heroism and the ability is tethered to his life source so the the more power he exerts the closer to death he is drawn in a soul pact with his god.

he has a great sword forged completely out of silver that is about 10 inches wide and 5 feet in length not including the hilt.

He also Carries 2 short swords also forged in silver, Zero preferably uses these when attempting to refrain from using a lot of power.

Zero keeps a series of journals that he writes in with a wide variety of notes he’s taken from what he saw one day to a characteristic he’s seen in deer in certain areas.

A Silver Totem ring he wears in worship of his god. Symbolizing his soul pact that would be what his soul will be sealed in the moment he walks astray from his god’s alignment.

Zero is a very strong minded, stoic, and persistent man. He is driven by one thing,being heroic and forever living to protect the peace. Just because he’s big on protecting the peace doesn’t mean he’s not a sarcastic sharp-tongued individual either. He has no remorse for the foul and wicked but will fight until his last breath to protect the good and unfortunate.

Although Zero has a brittle and cold exterior, he’s just been alone and hasn’t had many attached relationships in a while , so he isn’t the best at sparing feelings. That being said once he learns you, and lets his wall down, you’ll see he’s a big softy and will do anything for someone he considers a companion. Being so socially awkward he isn’t the best at expressing his feelings and often tries suppress them with writing, studying the best way to be the greatest vessel of his god, and working out (he is a human and you know has to stay in shape.)

Ironically Zero also has a fairly dark sense of humor, considering his upbringing jokes and humor was a rarity, that he enjoys very much. Being so wrapped up in his work he also hides the fact that he’s a certified lover boy who is longing deep down for someone to understand him and support his lifestyle, someone who would be able to make him not feel alone. Even though he hates those who do wrong he believes in repentance and redemption that all who exist is a vessel that can be used for good one day and evil the next depending on their guidance.

Zero was born under his original name Daemon Stone, the prodigal son of the Stone family, A family wealthy family of notorious fighters, and warriors, that was highly regarded by the human world. From the moment Zero could run he was involved in some type of training, learning from over four generations of his family’s patriarchs, becoming proficient and efficient with bladed weapons and studying books of many fighting styles. Zero was taught early in his childhood of Hercule the god of strength and heroism, a god who he thought his family were complete believers in, and were protected by, so he thought.

After 14 years of studying different books and codex on the god, it was finally time Daemons (Zero) faith was put to the test. The Stone family had a fairly large Estate in a southern Grassland near the ocean, that throughout the disappearance of the gods was left alone by Demons, that was until the night of his 17th birthday. On that night a group of lesser demons had attacked, Daemon rushed to the defense sounding an alarm that was short lived as before he knew it a demon had his throat clutched in its powerful hand before slamming him to the ground. Paralyzed with fear, and pain Daemon couldn’t move all he could do was scream, that was until the Stone family heard one of their own in peril the first face he had seen was his father standing with his great sword and a dozen of his relatives armed and ready. The battle was short lived, the Demons had cut through them in a flash as he laid there in disbelief, had Hercule forsaken, had he wasted years of his young life in belief that some god would protect his family that followed all of his beliefs and and pledged themselves to him. The Demons had moved on past the Estate leaving a massacre behind with only one survivor that was left mentally broken, and distraught.

After a few days he had finally dug enough holes to bury his family members, leaving Zero completely alone. After burying his family he spent a years time going through the Stone manuscripts of their history, battles they had won, hardships they overcame, and logs of moments of strength. It was in that instant when he had realized why it felt as if his family were abandoned by their god, they had not been walking in his light, they were strong yes, but there were no heroic moments in their history, all of the strength that the Stone family had was used to better themselves, not once did they use their power to protect the next person, they had forsaken Hercule in false worship. Shocked to his core, Zero realized that he would Drop his original name and was a Stone no more, taking his fathers silver sword, a carriage, along with whatever he could take of their capitol, and made off abandoning his families land.

Along his voyage Zero seen a small farm engulfed in flames blood curdling screams ringing out from it, standing there the hair on his arms began to raise on end, this was his chance to embrace the new belief in Hercule and actually save someone. Charging towards the burning building The screams got louder and louder until he stood just outside of the home they came from, kicking in the door he seen a man laying in a pool of blood the air reeking of iron and smoke. Clutching his fathers great sword he froze the shock of seeing a dead body sent waves of fear down to his bones, flashbacks of that dreadful night captivating his mind until a woman’s scream snapped him back to reality. “ This is what you have been training for, act accordingly to the will of Hercule and everything will be okay!” He whispered to himself in attempt to calm down his restless mind. Pressing forward Zero made it to the end of the hallway to a room where two men, a woman, and two small children were inside.

“Please leave! “ the woman screamed at the two men.

“ I wish we could but you’re family owes a great debt. Now we could take a child and let you live, or we can kill you and take both children .” One of the men said clutching a dagger.

Hearing that Zero could wait no more, heaving the great sword over his shoulder he swung it at the first man completely cutting through the man closest to him dismembering his arm at the shoulder, screaming and alarming the second man who turned around taking aim at Zero with his dagger, left Zero no choice but to plunge the great sword deep into his chest. Both men lay bleeding out on the wooden floors. Escorting the helpless trio outside of the now smoke filled house. Zero’s body was filled with a feeling he has never experienced but could only be one thing, his god was with hi., Making it outside the woman thanked him and begged him to stay, informing him of a Demon who had subjugated the town and demands a sacrifice of a child a night. Hearing the word Demon Zero was all but inclined to to stay but with Hercule on his side he feared death less than what may come about if he were to walk away knowing that not only this gang but this village needed a hero.

“I will kill this Demon or die in place of an innocent child! “ Zero said before he could even contemplate how or why he would even say that. As the sun began to set and the moon rose to replace it Zero awaited the Demon at the entrance to the town his blood boiling, heart throbbing and mind racing and full of thoughts of the unknown. But of all the thoughts in his head one thought was certain he’s saving one child at least one more day of survival and that was enough.

“ Where’s my human child ! “ a deep voice echoed out in the pure silence from a tall slender figure. The moment was upon him there no where to turn now and his mind cleared snatching his great sword of of his back it felt as if Jesse picked up a hollow toy. This sword has alway been necessary for him to wield with both hands. Now was not the time to question it with what’s in front of him and chalked it up to it being the adrenaline of his soon to come death just 30 feet away.

“There will be no child today demon, only me!” Zero called back to the monster pointing the blades towards him in a ready stance. And as the battle began the demon charged zero with outreached talon like claws, Zero knew he would have to play the defense lacking the attack power this demon displays, thrusting off of the ground zero spun away from the demon using the Silver greatsword nearly as a shield deflecting the claws. Letting out a deep roar the demon charged again this time sloppier out of anger, seeing a window of opportunity and spun again to the left,this time with his sword outstretched upward and to the right, with momentum doing a lot of the work, he had dismembered the demons right arm at the elbow. Hearing the demon scream it launched again with a lower strike, Zero couldn’t contain himself at this point his blood felt hot, as if his bones were in a stew. “ You will die for Hercule!” He said slashing toward the demons Head severing it but not at a cost feeling the demons claws pierce his hip near his kidney, passing out as he felt extremely cold his heart rate dropping as everything fade to black.

Out of the darkness came a Silver silhouette approaching calling to him “do you pledge your soul to protecting all thing’s good?” Over and over ringing out along with this burningly bright silhouette. “ Yes!” Zero said and with that being said the silhouette extended a silver ray of light to his left hand. Waking up in a small wooden room zero felt a excruciating burning sensation on his left hand looking down he seen a silver totem ring with the symbol of Hercule engraved in the side of it.

That started Zeros own personal journey of traveling the world doing what he can, learning, making acquaintances, and fighting for all things good. Zero had been traveling for the next six years until the God Queen came to him along with Hercule informing him of a new journey, a journey to save the world.

Personal goals:He wants to create peace amongst the world, for starters without conflict there will be no need for heroics so he would have a peaceful life. A second personal goal would be to start a family a selfless family at that , one who could spread the word of Hercule.

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


Name: Roshan

Age: 30

Race: Human

Appearance: Wherever he goes, Roshan cuts a striking, recognizable figure, dressing in rich- some might say gaudy- robes of blue, scarlet and white, ornamented with various golden baubles acquired throughout his exploits. For all this finery, his tanned complexion, wild mane of sun bleached dark brown hair, calloused hands and lean build bear witness to a life lived outdoors. Standing taller than most average men, he has a voice and a presence to match, carrying himself with natural confidence and authority. His gaze is forthright and friendly, and when not immediately occupied, his vivid green eyes always seem to be looking straight ahead, seeking something just beyond the horizon.

  • Skills:
    After many years wandering the Keshkarthan wilderness, Roshan is adept at all the skills needed to survive in this harsh environment, including hunting, foraging, finding water, and familiarity with the local flora and fauna. While he possesses rudimentary cooking skills, his repertoire only extends to what can be prepared in the wild, and not to more "civilized" fare. Utilizing his keen eyesight and sharp memory, he always makes note of landmarks in unfamiliar territory, picks out potential hiding places, and assesses the suitability of the terrain for battle. Be they the fruits of foraging, spoils of war, or legitimate purchases, he has a knack for conserving resources, and is thrifty with his coin when need be.

    Strong and agile, with sound instincts, Roshan was quick to acquire the arts of blade and bow, but his understanding also extends to tactics. Though unlettered, having received no formal education, he is quite clever when he decides to be. "Work smarter, not harder" is an adage he has taken to heart, though in practice, "Why take the straightforward approach when you can make a game of it?" is more accurate. Not one for theorizing, he prefers to learn through experience, tackle problems head-on, and plan on the go. This hands-on approach extends to the training of his troops. Those under his command have grown accustomed to his unorthodox ideas and quick changes of plan.

    As he sees it, Roshan never set out to become a leader- he pursues his own ambitions, and along the way, he tends to collect people who want to come along for the ride. Controlling others' destinies is the last thing he'd ever want. He'd rather everyone be free to pursue their own path. Nonetheless, it can't be denied that his charisma draws others in, and he has proved capable of rallying them under a shared vision. Rather than dictating to his followers, he draws out their talents and gives them the guidance they need to find their own way. Everyone can become strong, he believes, and if everyone also supports each other with their unique gifts, their strength is multiplied, and they become more than the sum of their parts.

    No matter what he's doing, Roshan gives it his all, whether that be battle or leisure. Contrary to his rough manners, he has a rather nice singing voice, and, while he is by no means a master musician, he can play several instruments, his favorites being tambourines and drums. He also dances very well. When it comes to drinking games, no one in the Brotherhood has been able to best him yet.

    When Roshan wields his spear, water will coalesce around the blade and follow his movements, increasing the area of his attacks and amplifying the damage done, especially to demons. The longer he keeps up an uninterrupted flow of movement, the more this effect will increase. This water is no ordinary water, but is lit from within by an ethereal glow, and has a purifying influence.

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Khatiy - Heiress of Usaama


Personal goals:
Above all else, Khatiy wishes to rule
Usaama her own way, distanced from the political wants and needs of her father, who Khatiy feels has puppeteered her and her upbringing. It is her wish to disband the ruling council established by her father, and bring forth onto Usaama a different era, one of peace and further spiritual harmony with the animals of Keshkartha.
In doing so, Khatiy also wishes to find and unite the Great Lion Spirits, who have become splintered and lost, displeased by the growing greed of humans.


  1. It is said that Khatiy can tame even the fiercest of lions of Keshkartha. Some say she can even turn into a lion herself. Many Usaamans refer to her as the Lion Princess.
  2. Rumor has it that Khatiy shares a close bond with Raiko, King of the Savannah, one of the Great Lion Dieties.
Backstory & Personality
Within the expansive Realm of Humans, there exists a distant and beautiful place known by its locals as Usaama. Secluded deep within the volatile wastes of Keshkartha, it is said that one will only find Usaama by travelling as south as the very word implies. To the very edge of the grand desert, a land where sand finally meets water at the Golden Shore. A nation as old as the ancient empire of Keshkartha itself, Usaama and its people have long withstood the trials and tribulations of time and everything it has brought. From origin, to the peak of the Keshkarthan empire, to the very present. For Usaama is so much greater than the mere humans that inhabit it. It is... So much more. A sacred place. The Land of Beasts.

Born to the
Sultan of Usaama, Lugulbunda, Khatiy's life was one of utmost importance and responsibility from the very beginning. Destined to inherit the Sultanate, the expectations placed upon her would range from demanding to outright excessive. Drilled arduously in many varying arts ranging from politics and statecraft to beastmastery and geology, the Heiress's upbringing was difficult to bear. As many would say, with great power also comes great responsibility-- But Khatiy remains young, and such power beckons many more years of education and understanding to properly harness.

It is said that the
Land of Beasts is an incredibly spiritual locality. The Usaamans have always shared loving bonds with all creatures, and were tasked by the spirits to forever safekeep the animals of Keshkartha. As legend goes, Usaama is home to not just its humans, but to the guardian spirits that share their mission of keeping the fauna of Keshkartha safe. Of particular veneration in Usaama are the Great Lion Dieties, who prowl the wild savannahs in eternal pursuit of any of would bring harm to the desert. The Sultans of Usaama have always shared a connection to the Lion Spirits, but some folks doubt their existence. Legends are simply legends after all.

Never one to allow herself to be pinned down by menial political responsibilities, Khatiy spent most of her later adolescence away from the palace, in pursuit of something greater.
One fateful day, a dreadful storm broke over the wastelands near Usaama. Rain here was rare, in fact, sometimes it could be years at a time ever struck the land. This particular storm seemed out of the ordinary, bringing unprecedented rainfall and dangerous winds. As Khatiy trekked through the cold winds to return home, what sounded like a dire call for aid took her attention away. Her ears flickered beneath the cover of her cloak.. The roar of lions. Why? The animals always take shelter during storms, whether rainstorms or sandstorms. Had one become injured? In pursuit of their cries, Khatiy scaled over the stiff dune of sand before her, and what she saw on the other side brought a frown of fury over her features.

The men below wieldes spears and nets as they encircled a small pride of frightened lions-- Poachers. They had taken the opportunity of rainfall to set out on a hunt, knowing the rangers of Usaama would hide from the rain too. The lions did their best to form a protective circle around their cubs, their defensive efforts headed by one particularly large and brave lion. He was so much bigger than any other lion, radiating with bravery and a strange spiritual energy. And yet, his valiant aura was not enough, as one spear and then another found itself rammed through his torso. It was at this moment that Khatiy found herself descending down the watery slope of sand with crimson wrath, khopesh in hand.

Red was the only thing the heiress saw. The affair did not last more than a handful of minutes, as when it all ended, only scattered corpses and bloody sand remained, sunlight beginning to pierce through the grey clouds. Khatiy strugged to control her breath-- for some reason, she had no recollection of anything that had just unfolded moments ago. As she looked down upon her hands, she saw that they had grown large, like paws, her claws stained with blood.. And as she gazed down at her reflection in a puddle at her feat, she saw not the features of the woman she was, but a different monster entirely. The features of a lion... She turned, however, to the cry of the wounded lion, rushing to his side to remove the spears from his body. Thankfully, the rest of the pride remained safe... But at what cost?

A divine light came bearing down from the heavens, carrying with it the radiance of the Goddess Queen, who's light began to enshroud the body of the lion. With awe, Khatiy watched as this light withdrew from the body the divine apparition of a beautiful, gallant lion. A remarkable beast, gilded with gold and bronze, his maw sharp like that of a shark. The Lion God introduced itself to Khatiy, yet she already knew who she was looking at. Her dearest and oldest friend-- Raiko, King of the Savannah. At his side, the apparition of the God Queen also made itself known, her presence restoring Khatiy's features back to normal. Together, they commended the Heiress for her bravery, making it known how her love for the animals of this world has always been appreciated. She is subsequently told, however, of the greater dangers that reside in this world, and how humans such as herself are what is needed to bring balance and peace. It did not take any convincing at all for Khatiy to agree to what was asked of her next, and so, from one day to the next, the Heiress of Usaama had vanished. Embarked away, on a greater quest, never having even informed her father or the Sultanate of this journey. The rangers of Usaama search the deserts every day for her.

The Heiress has always had a love for creatures, and has built close bonds across the animal kingdom from a young age. She has been raised as any heir would be, trained and tutored in magics, combat, intrigue, politics, as well as the ins and outs of what it means to lead Usaama. Nobody is perfect, but Khatiy has shown promise and potential in her youth, a potential which some began to question after a gradual development of a most rebellious attitude towards her father and his ruling council. Due to this resentment, which has been growing over the years, Khatiy has always been a solitary individual. She has little to no friends, preferring to spend her time with animals and away from her responsibilities. On the outside, she is cold, quiet, and unforgiving, keeping grudges towards those she does not like. This does not mean, however, that she is the 'antisocial' sort of person, rather, her attitude is a consequence of her circumstances. In truth, Khatiy always tries to see the best in people, and would likely have more friends if she didn't dread how her life has already been written for her by her father. She finds happiness in freedom, and freedom in happiness. In the simplest of terms, anybody that gets along with her animals is someone Khatiy herself can also get along with.

Khatiy is extremely emotionally driven, perhaps to her detriment, as she often allows emotions to prevail over logic and reasoning. A particular weakness of hers is her undying love for animals and nature, which anyone can easily exploit by posing any sort of harm towards an animal. Her temper is short, and there are a great deal of things that annoy her. Nevertheless, she has never been happier now that she is away from home, and has had a lot of room to grow as a human with her newfound responsibility, a quest from the God Queen herself.
Skills and Inventory

Skills and Abilities:
Khatiy can be classified as what some would call a Summoner. A more primitive and outdated practice, she relies on Summoning Scrolls to bring forth animals that have been previously tamed. Khatiy's secondary proficiency when it comes to magic is that of Beastmastery, which goes hand in hand with her use of summoning scrolls. A native Usaaman, Khatiy shares a special connection with animals of the Realm of Humans, and can employ magic to attempt to influence animals, calling for their aid when needed and granting her the ability to form a summoning pact with animals that have been succesfully tamed.

Raised to be a warrior and a leader, Khatiy can hold her own with many different weapons, but has always preferred two-handed swords and clubs as her main form of combat. She is particularly gifted at hand-to-hand combat as well.

Khatiy's Patron Diety is Raiko, King of the Savannah. A powerful Lion God, his connection with Khatiy allows her to inherit feline features in times of need. When this occurs, Khatiy is provided with increased agility, mobility, strength, while also partially inheriting the physical features of a lion, granting her claws, teeth, a mane of hair, increased hearing and increased scent.

Weapons and Items:
In battle, Khatiy wields the Khopesh of Amanirenas. It is a large, two-handed sword forged from copper and ancient minerals. A nimble weapon, yet hefty enough to split its foes asunder. According to legend, the sword once belonged to an ancient queen of Keshkartha, from a time before this place was even considered an empire.

Khatiy also carries with her many supplies-- rations, ropes, waterskins, knives, flints, and other knick-knacks necessarry for survival in the desert.

Thirdly, Khatiy carries with her a medium-sized summoning scroll that contains the summoning script of 1 basic animal.
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Name: Ying Yue.

Nickname: Yue.

Race: Benevolent Lunar Spirit.

Age: Appears to be in her early 20s.

Appearance: At first glance, Yue appears to be a slight, rather unimposing woman, donned in her black and white robes and a veiled bamboo hat fit for any wanderer. Her unnaturally pale face and white hair may start to flag that there is something unnatural about her to the common person, but it is Yue’s striking eyes, her jewels of iris the colour of blooming crimson the first sign that something isn’t entirely human about her.

Despite her strange eyes, Yue exudes a peculiar sense of comfort, and an odd sense that she’s put together. Her face is one of kindness and neutrality, it is rare for a harsh emotion to mar Yue’s sweet face. The long hair she wears half up and down never seems to never get tangled no matter the weather, always falling in delicate rivers down her back. Lips equally rouged as her eyes always seem to be curving into an inviting smile.

Dreamlike and whimsical, Yue’s mannerisms are soft and floaty. Her way of walking makes it so that it looks like she isn’t even taking steps at all as she strangely glides alongside whoever she happens to be with at the time.

→ Height: 5’1” | Body type: Ectomorph, lithe.



    Yue has a surprising amount of speed and skill with a sword, and an even more surprising amount of force she can get behind her strikes for being built so seemingly small.

    Despite most thinking her Fuchen is for decoration, Yue is well-versed with the weapon, favouring it more than her sword. Using it opens her to a multitude of options in combat. It enables her to aim for opponents' pressure points, strike and deflect attacks, and perhaps the most important of all, snatch a foe’s weapon and counter attack.

    Sweet treats are a favourite of Yue’s. Whilst it’s rare she gets the opportunity to bake, her creations are always divine and decorated with an experienced hand. They have earned her a pretty penny in the past.



    Yue can transform into a small, white rabbit. Whilst it has no value in combat, its unthreatening form can act as a quiet, unassuming scout or as a quick way to escape a tricky situation.

    Yue can bless herself or an ally and give whoever it is a temporary boost of sorts. Boosts can range from enhanced speed and strength to higher perception. The blessed will shimmer with a cold but not unpleasant aura of pale blue. Those who receive it should feel pleased for it is a token of her favour.

    All things must come to an end. Recently gained wounds and statuses can be returned to what they once were prior to their infliction, restarting the natural cycle. Broken skin can be mended under the delicate sweep of a hand. Infection and poison leached from those unlucky enough to be afflicted. The cost is it can only be used on a minor scale once a day, and on a major scale once a full moon has passed and a new moon begins, or another significant event occurs with the lunar cycle.

    Due to her natural affinity with the night, Yue has keen vision in the dark and a subtle glow to her under moonlight.



    Yue’s trusty sword that is strapped to her side. The blade is thin, but reliable, well crafted and engraved with lilies. Its sheath matches the design on the blade, white leather adorned with the same design that’s sprawled on the blade.

    Her favoured Fuchen is rarely seen out of her hands. The hilt is carved from deep mahogany, the hair the same white as her own, although she claims it’s not from her head.

    Forever favouring sweet treats, Yue has a habit of stashing away treats for herself when she gets bored or hungry. In the past, some of her stash has gone mouldy, so she needs to frequently check and replace what she is eating or even worse, sharing with others.


Name: Finyagur (FIN•yah•gər) (Also Finjagur or Hvitjagur, depending on region and dialect)
Race: Lesser Deity of the Hunt
Age: 730

Finyagur (or Fin as gods may call him) cuts an imposing silhouette at 6'6. He boasts an obviously powerful build, dark eyes, and silvery white hair with a beard. He doesn't appear to be old, maybe thirty-something. His clothing is best described as "respectfully minimalist"; it is not really provocative, but with mostly hides, a bare chest, and no luxurious fabrics or jewelry, it paints a slightly barbaric picture. His most characteristic garment is a giant wolf pelt that matches his hair in its normal state (more on the pelt below). His loincloth is decorated with small trophies like horns, feathers, and teeth.

Skills and abilities:

  • Physical Prowess - Even among others of his kind, Finyagur possesses excellent speed, strength, endurance, flexibility, and accuracy. He can run and climb quickly, but swimming is a weak point for him. His magical aptitude is also relatively low for a spirit; though he is strong against natural cold, manipulation of the deadly elements (especially fire and/or lightning) may best him.
  • Divine Inspiration - As a reward for one's piety, Fin may lace his words with magic. The spell woven breaks down the essence of each word, making it easier to absorb the knowledge of his teachings. It only works once per week, never twice on the same person, and the knowledge must be of a subject within his domain, such as survival skills, leather tanning, hunting and trapping, or archery.
  • Stealth - Fin's footprints fade in mere seconds, making him difficult to track. His footsteps also make reduced noise. His vision is superior at night, mitigating his need for a lantern or a torch.
  • Summon Roul - What hunter is complete without their dog? Roul, a lesser canine spirit who has not achieved sapience, serves as a loyal and intelligent companion. The phantom hound can only be summoned once per day, but is somewhat more powerful than an ordinary dog.
  • Arrow Conjuration - His most obvious magic gives him the ability to summon an ethereal bow and arrow that does piercing damage. Its power is comparable to that of a human longbow, currently—more suited for hunting ordinary beasts. It may need a power upgrade to handle demons efficiently. (Limit 5 arrows/day)
  • Leather tanning - Nothing goes to waste, and if Fin can't find some use for animal hide in its most basic form, he will once he tans it. While not a master craftsman, he can cobble together the essentials.
  • Cooking - He is an extremely thrifty cook, capable of making a soup or stew from just about anything. It probably won't be a five-star dish, but it will keep one nourished.
  • Rationing - As a survivalist deity, he is a master of budgeting his resources, be it for a season or a year-long journey.
Weapons and items:
  • Hrok - A beautifully made and seemingly indestructible spear with a broad, silvered blade decorated with etchings of crows, bears, and wolves. It returns to its wielder after being thrown (limit 3x/day). A gift from the gods as he ascended from a neutral spirit to one of them.
  • Seax - A single-edged dagger. Incredibly sturdy, but otherwise boasting no great properties.
  • Pelt of Mikylva - The pelt of a giant, savage wolf creature who preyed upon humans. Finyagur defeated the beast at a young age, starting his legend. Mikylva's pelt retains her power and changes color to camouflage the wearer, but is white when inactive. (Limit 1x/day)
Finyagur is an overall benevolent god (as he should be) who embodies many Northern traditions. He is a firm believer in teamwork, adventure, and abundance. He also advocates the carrying of weapons by all people; better to have a spear and not need it, than to need it and not have it. He is typically bold in both word and deed, often addressing matters with an up-front approach and not mincing words or pulling strings. Nothing goes to waste; he is resourceful and thrifty. Potential friends will challenge and engage him, and reciprocate any courtesies he extends to them. Few see his gentler, loving side, as his gruff and tough exterior, coupled with his intimidating physical stature, could make him difficult to approach. All for the best, because he is most comfortable with making the first move to initiate any sort of relationship or friendship. He is idealistic, holding other gods and himself to a high standard. Instead of gifting his followers magic, he offers insight and inspiration to help them overcome those problems that fall within his domain; simple cunning and ingenuity are a type of magic anyone can wield, in his opinion.

Fin is highly competitive and a chronic thrill-seeker. Anything he makes or repairs looks flagrantly "utilitarian"—not pretty, but functional. He doesn't take time to appreciate art beyond cave drawings that served some purpose like record keeping or a calendar. Though knowledgeable, he possesses practical wisdom instead of book smarts. He hasn't been known to possess a great sense of humor—it's dry and a touch morbid at best, though a few gallons of mead can remedy this. One of the few luxuries he thoroughly enjoys is alcohol; that may be one of the few "good" things he doesn't take in moderation. His pride often gets in the way of a proper apology in most cases, making the act of apologizing awkward.

700 years ago, when nomads first started settling in the North, a terrible famine struck them. The fall had brought a poor harvest to these tribes. Foraged berries and root vegetables only went so far, precious livestock was killed by disease, and the hunts grew increasingly perilous as a spectacularly cruel winter set in. One young tribe suffered greatly as they fought to stave off hunger. While many sat on the verge of cannibalism, an intrepid, inspiring hunting party set out in search of a mighty beast to feed their people.

The famine had left the Northerners weak, and these hunters were no exception. They were sure to face great adversity, as they barely had the strength to thrust their spears or draw their bowstrings. Worse yet, they had caught he attention of Mikylva, an enormous demon wolf said to prey upon men. However, the unfaltering prayers of those at home were with the hunters, and the phenomenon attracted a spirit of nature. As Mikylva revealed herself and leapt at the humans, an arrow of phasing light pierced her heart, killing her instantly. The hunters looked up, only to glimpse a naked, white-haired boy disappearing into the deep woods.

Having recognized this encounter was a miracle, the hunters dragged the carcass back home, where they skinned and butchered it. Nothing went to waste, as the great wolf sated the tribesmen's hunger, the bounty pulling them back from the brink of that ages-old taboo. The pelt was left upon an altar, from which it disappeared the next evening. The hunters made several more trips, gradually regaining their strength and tackling larger prey. Every now and then, they caught sight of that same boy, draped in the pelt of Mikylva and smiling upon them. Each encounter proved to be a positive omen, preceding a large catch.

Time wore on, and the boy grew into a powerful man and a deity of the hunt, nourished by the offerings of more tribes who came to believe in him as word of his generosity spread. Soon, those isolated tribes and their primitive villages grew into civilizations that traded and talked. The Northerners settled on a name for their god of the hunt, derived from multiple dialects to symbolize their shared reverence: Finyagur.

Over the centuries, a rich culture blossomed in the North. Though many refined the agricultural practices and domesticated a wider array of hardy vegetables, the fur trade became the most lucrative business. Salt came from the mines of mountain villages, unlocking new ways to help preserve and season their venison. The discovery of iron also made hunting easier because of the sturdier spear heads. Fierce thanes paid homage to their lords and defended their homes in exchange for silver, food, and drink.

It was Finyagur who helped plant the seeds of the famous Northern hunting tradition, visiting his most devout and teaching them what he knew. He found many had excellent ideas, but simply needed that extra inspiration to bring their concepts to fruition. They began to build snares and traps and refine their bow designs. Soon, communities held grand ceremonial hunts. Ladies would often hunt fowl with their bows, while lords and their thanes released their hounds and rode on horseback, tracking larger game with spears. The less capable started fires to prepare feasts before and after the hunt, with small offerings made to the gods and spirits for letting them have this bounty.

When the God King gave His decree, Fin was dragged away and practically imprisoned in the god realm, barred from intervening in mortal affairs. He felt castrated, having to comply with something he felt was wrong. The rich traditions he helped found became more difficult and dangerous to uphold, and offerings that would normally strengthen him have gone to appease demons. The lords were dethroned, many slaughtered for refusing to act as proxies and mouthpieces to spread new, hate-filled messages. Thanes became slave-warriors of their new overlords. Furious with this new status quo, he took the side of the Queen, awaiting the day her plans would come to fruition and he and other gods could return to the human realm.

That day came... for Fin, at least. Using his best stealth tactics in conjunction with the fleeting blessings of a circle of trickster gods, he managed to bypass security and reach the human realm once more. He is well aware that one poor choice could result in his immediate destruction, but he'll have died standing up for his beliefs.

Personal goals:

  • Carry on ancient traditions and gradually strengthen them once more.
  • Find ways to avoid the God King's wrath... at least until he finishes his journey.
  • Partake in the greatest hunt of all and drive the demons from their seat of power in the human realm. He wants trophies.
Three rumours:
  • Finyagur defied the God King and has actively been hunting demons.
  • Fin is a fantastic hunter, but an incompetent and impatient fisherman.
  • Fin has competed with other spirits and gods during hunts in both the human and god realms.
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Xe'likXe or Lik for short

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  • Race: Cave Dragon Demon (Essentially a Crag Linnorm from Pathfinder)

    Gender: Male

    Age: 285 years

    Appearance: Short, white hair and light grey eyes, Xe'lik looks so devoid of melanin that one may think he spent too much time away from the light. They are correct. Living in the caves has kept him from feeling any kind of burn, his more boyish features deceptive of his age, until you see the crows feet at the corner of his eyes and his farmer's build. He's 5'8" (172.72 cm), weighing in at 145 lbs (65.78 kg) of mostly a mix of lean and powerful muscle, his frame hiding the power of the bulk under his marred skin. While he may have pearly white skin, he also has patches of inflamed, red, peeling, cracking skin from a condition he received as a byproduct of the God Queen suppressing his powers, a bracelet around his right wrist to show his subservience. His body wasn't able to withstand the power of his magic that was caked onto his skin via soil, and it seeped through, causing a near-constant regenerative process that burns upon being hit by or submerged in water. In addition, another side effect appeared due to the birthing process of spirits-turned-demons within this cave: sharp rocks formed over his skin in random areas as he's unable to control their growth currently. It hurts to move...

    Clothes & Armor: His kind wore white robes with accented colors that were commonly a pastel green or blue, but they held other colors based on status or job, as well. Rarely did others of their kind wear primarily dark robes, as it was not as easy to spot in the depths of a cave if they were to fall. However, such bright robes wouldn’t work outside of caves. For this reason, he has two sets of clothes. His normal white, cotton shirt under a white robe with pastel green trim held together with a black band around his waist. He has red strings that are wrapped around his forearms much like that of bandages for fighters, and he wore light grey pants that weren’t too baggy, and black stone shoes with some cotton padding inside. Most of his clothes are for ease of comfort with not too much pressure put on his skin, the only exception being the black band around his waist. Because of his aching skin, he tends to have bandages wrapped around his body, spots of them bloodied.

    As for outside wear, he had a utility belt that held most of his weapons, belts to hold holsters for his other weapons, a harness to aid in carrying his backpack and to help put comfort on his aching skin by keeping it from moving. For armor, he had a deep brown gambison, a buckler, and thick padded armor around his thighs and shins. Each padded armor and the gambison has some iron plates to give it more durability while not completely restricting his movements. He even had shaded goggles to deal with his light sensitivity.

    Weapons & Items: Having a variety of weapons due to the nature of both tight tunnels and sprawling caverns, Xe'lik has quite a few weapons, though they are small and light as he focused on the use of his magic. He has a buckler strapped to his left wrist, and he can move the buckler to other key parts of his body with the leather straps. He also has four daggers - three hidden under his robes with one against his left side, and then one each on his thighs - with the last one strapped in his buckler, its hilt jutting out.

    Wearing a utility belt, he has a rapier attached to his left hip. The other side of his hip has his canteen, a chisel set for wood and rock, a small pickaxe with a sharper end than the other, a small and heavy iron mallet that can smash medium-sized rocks with ease, a bag of porous and soft rocks, and a slightly magical powder that the demonic mages in Xe’lik’s cult-like society have crushed rock and flower with, creating a very irritating, sneeze-inducing powder when blown in their face and can cover a five-foot area (enough to block a tunnel and allow ample time to flee).

    He also has a light crossbow with a quiver of bolts on his back, the light crossbow being so small he can mount it on his buckler or right wrist with attachments and it’s easier to set up for a home defense system than a regular crossbow. However, it doesn’t have a long enough range, and due to Xe’lik’s eyesight, he’s not accurate if they’re beyond twenty feet (~6m). It would honestly be better to give to someone else who can get more use out of it.

    In his backpack, he has survival equipment: compass, flint, fifty feet (~15 m) of rope, blanket, a spare change of clothes, bandages, and iron utensils. Attached to his backpack is a lute with strokes of paint seemingly haphazardly painted on but it all comes together as some chaotic mixture of colored wind. He also has a book on stonemasonry, and a journal he has written in since he was a hundred years old. However, the script is in their specific language due to their isolationist society. It has its roots in the original demonic script, but not even other demons outside of their society can read it without learning it, and many of the written words in both scripts may mean different things despite pronouncing it in similar ways.

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Name: Sovann

Race: Treasure Demon

Age: 93

Appearance: Regardless of how Sovann alters his appearance, there is always a certain gleam to his being. His eyes resemble molten gold, and his warm blonde hair reflects the light of the sun as if there is metal imbued with each strand. It is lustrous and long, almost reaching his waist when not tied together. Sovann's skin is unnaturally clear, invoking the feeling of porcelain with his rounded features and no visible blemishes. He stands tall, taller than most, with a lean build to support it.

His mannerisms and gait seem to be both perfect and horrendous at the same time. They feel like movements that were studied for too long and practised to such a degree that they don't feel natural anymore. It is as if he has no personal understanding of human behaviour but was taught by someone else. The same way a born blind person could never truly see colour, even when told what it looks like.

Sovann only owns one set of clothes, and those are the robes he woke up in. They are soft to the touch and don't seem to get dirty easily. His footwear is rather simple compared to the otherwise regal look, consisting of brown sandals that were not only worn by him. He wears various golden accessories, like the ornament attached to his belt or his one earring, which makes it hard to see the original one forced onto him by the God Queen. Most don't assume that it is the japamala loosely hanging around his neck, as it looks like it could fall off with the slightest shake of his head.

Believe him, he did try removing them, and it certainly didn't appreciate that.

To avoid too much attention—especially in regards to his hair—Sovann tends to throw a dark robe over his whole attire with a heavy hood to cover his head in the company of strangers. Apparently, he missed the memo that a veiled person usually attracts more eyes than a freely walking one. Though it still generally fulfils its purpose to some degree.

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    Although Sovann didn't have much time or opportunity to hone the craft, he is still able to wield his staff like an extension of his body. His strikes are precise and swift, with no wasted breath in between. What he lacks in experience, he compensates with his sheer observational ability and adaptability. Many tend to underestimate the force behind his hits based on the bluntness of his preferred weapon, which he gladly abuses. Sovann's endurance seems to be higher than seen in other demons, and he has an easier time enduring pain without it restricting his physical performance excessively.

    Sovann has a natural talent when it comes to the restoration and refinement of metal gear. A keen eye for detail and steady hands to follow through. His magic can certainly be of aid in that task, but normally he prefers to do it without its help. One could also call this his hobby.

    Despite his oblivion regarding human culture in most other aspects, Sovann is an excellent haggler. He always seems to know the exact worth of an object and manages to get it for a much lower price.

    Like most of his kind, Sovann is able to shapeshift into a second skin, representing the more inhumane nature of his being. However, since the suppression, the monster resembling a basilisk has been reduced to nothing more than a simple house snake with not even venom to defend himself. The only thing differentiating him from other black snakes is the warm molten gold spilling out from under his scales and out of his mouth.

    Eating from various questionable sources without any type of preparation for the first few years of his life, proved that his stomach is more durable than others. At the same time, Sovann is able to get most of his needed nutrients from raw ores and certain stones but has a general harder time digesting processed ones.


    Molten Shine - Sovann is able to bend metal (with the exception of silver) to his will. Closer proximity and directly touching it are mostly required for him to change it with finer control, but line of sight works just as fine if significantly cruder and random at worst. He is slightly able to sense all existing metal in a 5-metre radius around him, which makes any sort of ambush armed with metal gear rather fruitless against him.

    Suppressed Abilities: (More to be added when necessary)

    Equivalent Exchange - Sacrificing something of certain monetary or personal worth to Sovann allows him to temporarily strengthen his abilities and enhance his regeneration. The more valuable an object or creature is to him, the stronger the effect. He needs to directly be in contact with whatever he chooses as an offering. Shortly after selecting his sacrifice, it petrifies before crumbling into fine dust with the slightest touch.

    [Partially restrained]

    • Even when this ability gets unlocked, Sovann is no longer able to use any living sentient beings as an offering. This will result in him mostly sacrificing money, which is a rather expensive process.

    Midas' Touch - As the tale told in ancient times, Sovann is seemingly capable of turning whatever he touches into gold. However, in reality, all he does is cast a thin but sturdy layer of gold around the desired subject. Although it's rather durable, it isn't impossible to escape from, and it acts more as a temporary hindrance in combat than a permanent binding. Technically, this works on everything tangible, but it has a fairly diminishing effect on any liquid. Gold produced this way can not be controlled by Molten Shine.

    • When properly strengthened by Equivalent Exchange (this requires the sacrifice of a willing, sentient being that has a significant emotional bond with Sovann), he's able to turn everything in a small radius around him into pure gold. No direct contact is required and death is fairly certain. There was only one time in his life that all of these requirements were fulfilled, and it's very unlikely that the same situation will ever arrive again—especially with the restrictions.

    Weapons and Items

    An iron staff adorned in various copper patterns, most depicting coiled snakes, and a golden orb firmly attached to its top. The decorations are not necessarily meant to serve a visual effect, as they are more there to provide him with easy access to more metal to freely transmute in battle.

    Sovann wears an old string bracelet on his right wrist. It's already fraying at the ends and most of its vibrant color faded to a muted tone.

    His belt holds a small pouch filled with gold coins left from his birth place. They don't seem to hold any carvings nor initials and are basically just pure chips out of gold.
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Name: Alitheia Realyn Sera'lios

Age: Twenty-Nine

Race: Human

Appearance: Alitheia is not all that immediately impressive, but to a more detailed observer her experience becomes clear. She stands at 5'6" and her body is well honed. She moves purposefully and without waste. She has spent years handling spears, bows, and various other weaponry and her flesh reflects that, both in build and in marking. Scars criss-cross her back, arms, and legs, but the worst is the damage done to the left side of her face and neck.

Personality: Alitheia is by default calm and thoughtful. Most of the time she navigates the world around her with quiet confidence. Most of the time. There are few things that test her patience but among them are boastful attitudes, taking risks at the expense of others, and blatant disrespect. Once brought to anger she is ruthless.

As far as people are concerned, she prefers to keep to herself. She is often skeptical of leaders that are too self assured, and distrusts any strategy not formed under her watch. Her business is her own but once some level of trust is earned there is no part of herself she has reason to hide, save perhaps her nameless god or the events that lead to her servitude. She speaks frankly of most things and has a sharp tongue, prone to banter with those she's familiar with. Once relaxed she tends to warm, but those moments are farther between than they once were.

◈ the scent of overturned earth, fresh rain
◈ high places/mountain environs
◈ windy days
◈ singing
◈ new knowledge

◈ traveling in large groups
◈ hubris
◈ promises - simply do, or do not
◈ unnecessary violence
◈ deep water
◈ caves

  • Skills:
    Alitheia has ranged the human world at great length, and both through specific training and experience she is well versed in survival. Hunting, tracking and healing are all within her reach. She has specific strengths in herbalism and the body, often serving as a healer. Though she can handle a sword sufficiently, her preferred weapons are the spear and the bow. Despite her distaste for unnecessary bloodshed, she does not shy from violence and in a fight she is ruthless, her aim always falling back to survival.

    Alie is at her heart, a naturalist. She frequently documents the flora and fauna she encounters, to include their known properties or behaviors. The practice has made her a wealth of wild knowledge, and it has saved her more than once. She is well read, tactically intelligent, and irrevocably tied to the natural world.

    Shadow is drawn to her, and while it doesn't necessarily move according to her will, it does bend to her. When sitting in darkness, the shade seems to hug her a little more closely. A useful phenomenon if hiding.

    Whispers come to her in her sleep; terrible visions, but they are often laced with truth. Those threads of reality are often impossible to disentangle, but when she is able to the information can be helpful.

The Flower of Northern Plain
Name: Xie Dongmei [ 解 冬梅 ]

Race: Human

Age: 22

Xie Dongmei held the appearance of a saintess. Her hair was black and smooth, her skin was fair and light. Her lips held a permanent upward curl that held the warmth of the first peek of spring.

Xie Dongmei had a gaze as firm as steel above her dainty figure. She often dressed light, often white, and travel inevitably showed their mark for every step she took in her journey. Red and brown that stained her clothes always failed to affect her. In her path of righteousness, Xie Dongmei held her head high and her back straight and proud.

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    Cold Wind Magic​
    The signature magic of Zima, along with her divine abilities that pertained life and healing. Xie could create cold gale that hinder sight, threaten balance, deviate projectiles, or if concentrated to a line, cut like a blade. Her swordsmanship has close ties to her magic.

    An art to cleanse corruption and curses. Useful in recovery from demons.

    Xie Dongmei had enough proficiency to protect herself and fought some lesser demons. She was not someone who hadn't drawn blood.

    Without divine abilities, medical knowledge was the best tool to save life. Common ailments from hunting, women's troubles, or common sickness were familiar to Dongmei. In the same vein, Xie Dongmei was familiar with makeups and skincare. While not crucial for life-saving, they helped to uphold the reputation of the temple.

    Agriculture, Foraging, and Animal Processing​
    When it came to farming and living off the forest, Dongmei was not lacking. Of course, as a priestess of Zima, her proficiency skewed toward winter and the environment of the cold north. She was not a good hunter, but she could skin and treat fur, preserve meats, and dispose them properly.

    For a long time, she was in charge of cooking and processing what the other acolytes caught and gathered. Cooking was something a senior taught her. An asset that could help her marriage in the future, she jokingly said.

    Horse Riding and Handling​
    After the establishment of the temple, the need for fast travel became apparent as messages were often urgent in the cold land. The urgency only grew once she knew magic.

    Weapons and Items:
    A double-edged sword with a blue sheath. The most expensive object in Dongmei's possession.

    Medicinal pouch​
    The leather pouch is filled with herbs to treat open wounds, lower fever, and other common ailments. It also holds several precious antidote for poisons.

    A tassel that held the symbol of Zima. Dongmei wore it on her waist.
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