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Fantasy ♞Legends of Leohain♞ (Medieval High Fantasy - Character sheets - CLOSED)

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Lore
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Hawke.

Sleepin' on the blacktop


Intro/prologue

The sounds of hurried footsteps echoed through the high kings tower, dawn had only just broken and King Kester had already called upon his advisors. The king was known to have a short temper, and he did not like to be left waiting.
Kester stood in front of a large fireplace, his gaunt face cast in shadow. Heavy furs and expensive fabric hung from his sickly frame. He raised a hand and motioned to the chairs. “Sit, we have things we need to discuss.” His voice was deep and smooth, almost pleasant to listen to.
His advisors exchanged concerned glances, but obeyed and took their seats and the weathered oak table. “What is this about? Why have you called us this early?” Lady Thelind asked, an edge of annoyance in her voice. She did not appreciate being woken so early.
“In time, Thelind.” The king waved a dismissive hand as he sat down in his ornate high-backed chair.
“I am sure you’re all familiar with my wife, and her unfortunate death.”
The advisors nodded, of course they were. The whole continent knew at this point. The queen’s funeral was quite the affair.
“She died of illness, a wasting disease contracted when she visited the Veridipalus. You need to let this go-” Thelind flinched as Kester jumped to his feet, slamming his hands on the table.
“It was not a disease!’ He shouted, teeth bared. He took a breath and slumped back into his chair. “It could not have been a disease. It was a curse.”
“And what makes you think that?...”
“Nobody has ever seen a disease like that in humans. Not here.”
“The mangrove swamps are home to innumerable diseases, things only the Veridians have seen.”
“And the Veridians still couldn’t help us!”
Thelind sat back, searching Kester’s face for any sign of the man that had once been there. But there was none, in front of her now was an old man, consumed with grief for what he had lost. She didn’t think less of him for grieving, how could she? But he was not a fit king anymore, not by any means.
“...So. What is your decision?”
There was a pause, it lasted only for a few seconds but it felt like an eternity.
“Every mage on this continent will be dead or exiled by the next frostgrip. We will ensure this never happens again,”
The silence in the room was heavy, another advisor spoke now, Spymaster Zoja.
“The other kings will never agree to this, it violates laws put in place to protect mages!”
Thelind nodded in agreement, “They will take it as a declaration of war.”
“Then so be it, we will go to war.”
The other advisor, who had been mostly silent before then spoke up, he was a young lion catfolk, with a sparse mane and a heavy build.
“What of your own battlemages? How will you tell them?”
“They will be the first to go. I will make examples of them… You will make examples of them, general Shatter Roar.”
The catfolk gave a low, rumbling growl.

“Never.”





Rules
All normal RPnation rules apply
Do not harass other people
Don’t pressure other people into doing things they don’t want to.
Don’t flood the rp, waiting is hard but you should give everyone a chance to advance their interactions too
If you are in the middle of an interaction and you can’t get a reply in for any reason please let me or my Co-author ( DovahBeat DovahBeat ) know, though it may be best to finish up the interaction and let the other person move on.
If at any time you decide you aren’t interested in the rp you can leave or take a break, just make sure you tell us, please don’t ghost us.
This is a semi-literate rp, I consider semi-literate posts to be at least two lines of text.
Keep non IC drama out of OOC, IC drama may be discussed of course.
Be respectful of potentially triggering material, use spoilers with content warnings.





Character sheet

Name:
Age:
Pronouns:
Sexuality:
Race:

Weapons, if any:
Backstory:
Appearance: (Image preferred)
Likes: (optional)
Dislikes: (optional)

(Extra fun stuff, completely optional)
Theme song:

Pet/Familiar: (One mount and one pet per person. Add image and pets name)


♞♞

 
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DovahBeat

Dragon Cowboy
Name: Krow Skald
Age: he doesnt know and neither do I. Late teens, physically.
Pronouns: he/him
Sexuality: ¯\_(ツ)_/¯
Race: Fae, Sylphid

Weapons, if any: Thurible
Backstory: coming from a distant country that isn't very hospitable to Sylphids, Krow escaped at a young age from a very hostile environment. He was hunted, by a league of women-only hunters. He eventually escaped to Leohain, where a knight had taken him in and trained Krow to defend himself. He has since taken up adventuring, and writing songs about his adventures and other things he's heard.
Appearance:
(Got permission to use this kind of image from Hawke)
Likes: music, especially his fiddle, magic, has an interest in necromancy (shhh), adventuring
Dislikes: women (not in a misogynistic way, more like an "I'm terrified of you" way.) His wings being touched, being reminded of his not-so-fun childhood,

(Extra fun stuff, completely optional)
Theme song:
Pet/Familiar: he has a wicker horse, named Oakley.
 
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Huntertabbysandshark3

The lord of randomness and the warp
Name: Skotádi drakónios

Age: 70
Pronouns: he/him?
Sexuality: lizard
Race: scalefolk (crocadilus)

Weapons, if any: a large sword, and a fair deal of shadow magic mostly used for magical puppet shows.. oh and a frying pan.
Backstory:


Skotádi comes form the prestigious clan of Ooldesar. Mostly known outside of their homeland for a combination of great and brutal strength, plus intelligence and incredible long memories, not often associated with such brutal creatures. Often making them great guard and mercenaries, or cooks and loremasters. Usually, this wanderlust hits them at a younger age before the return with tales and exploits to share. In Skotádi case he spent much of his early life mastering there clan’s greatest secret, shadowmancy, while it could be used in an offensive manner, Skotádi focused more on the way it could help convey a story through weaving intricate and fabulous puppets so amazing one could get wrapped up in them. Of course this skill and memorizing every story his clan had left Skotádi to travel the world wanderlust kicking in at an old age, now he's out to make his own stories learn others and give people a fabulous show and cooking too.
Appearance: 1606971108758.png
he's 8 foot tall
Likes: cooking, telling stories, war fire places
Dislikes: strong smells, cold weather

(Extra fun stuff, completely optional)
Theme song:
Pet/Familiar: a raven he call Dimitri (former crow of judgment)


1607120959123.jpeg
 
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sraes

Shay
Helewys 9.png

Name: Helewys deGrey

Age: 29

Pronouns: They/Them

Sexuality: Pansexual

Race: Elf



Appearance:
Standing at 6'1"/185 cm, Helewys cuts a lithe figure but is deceptively solid - they have somewhat soft, androgynous features with bright gold-toned eyes. Their skin is tan and heavily freckled, their hands calloused and crossed with tiny nearly unnoticable scars from years of working with them, and their long, wavy red-blonde hair is left loose around their shoulders unless they are working. They have a preference for nicer clothes and ornamentation, almost always having some kind of jewelry on when it is practical, and take pride in presenting a neat and tidy appearance though they are not above getting down in the muck if required.
Helewys 8.png

Backstory: Born and raised in the capital city of Anan, Helewys worked hard after their magic began manifesting at a fairly young age to be accepted into training as a healer at the prestigious healing center of Khipia. They've spent many years there working their way up to an established position within the Center, working alongside various other healers in matters both magical and mundane for the various citizens of Khipia. It was a comfortable life with a job they enjoyed, one they could see themself staying with for many years. Maybe even long enough to become a senior healer, one of those hand-selected to tend to the ailments of the most powerful people in the country.

None of them expected it to change as suddenly as it did.

When the rumors first started circulating about the King's order it was met with heavy skepticism from most. Why would the King do something so foolhardy? His battle mages were a boon to the army - without them wouldn't the other countries have an edge should they go to war? And that wasn't even taking into account the more day to day matters magic was used for all throughout the country and even the castle itself - take them for instance! What would the King do without trained healers? Surely all of this was simply speculative nonsense.

Then Shatter Roar and Lady Thelind were gone, fled from the city with some of the King's battle mages, and the remaining battle mages were captured - presumed dead. Just like that the dismissive disdain was replaced with sheer panic.

Some in the Center held fast to hope - or denial - that this would blow over but the majority of them, Helewys included, were not about to stick around and find out. Hastily they grabbed who and what they could and fled the city before they could go the way of the battle mages. There was no plan, no true destination other than away. The ragtag group was mostly made of Center healers and some of their families, those that could be smuggled out in time, but was still a rather small group. Maybe twenty, twenty-five people in total.

They were no match for the King's men when they caught up to them near the border with Thoigard, horses outpacing their frantic running and weapons flashing red in the dusk light.

Few if any of the healers had even used their magic offensively, they had no weapons and were rather outnumbered. A few of the King's men were killed but it was, in the end, no contest. The fleeing group was slaughtered.

Helewys hadn't expected to wake up after that but luck and one stubborn healer intervened. They found themself pinned under the dead body of their savior as the soldiers finished off the last of the 'traitors to the crown' they'd been sent to kill and, at long last, left. Helewys waited until well into the night before moving. Still heavily injured they collected whatever was salvageable from the dead - including a horse and sword left behind by one of the dead soldiers - and got as far away as they could before the sun rose again.

They traveled that way, hiding in the daylight and fleeing by the light of the moon, until they made it to Thoigard where whispers of a resistance were just beginning to spring up.

Bloody, exhausted, and thoroughly furious they turned their new mount in the direction of Umbra Keep.

Weapons: A shortsword they looted off of a body that they have no solid idea how to use, some magic, spite.

Likes: Hot drinks, Populated Cities, Established routines, Not dying

Dislikes: Traveling long distances, Inaccessibility, Splinters, Uncomfortable shoes, The king of Anan

Theme song(s): "The Bells" by Edgar Allen Poe; Sung by Phil Ochs; Animation by Betsy Lee



Pet/Familiar:
"Horse" a buckskin mare that is not, technically speaking, theirs
17732995908ed3a0509c74001dee85e1.jpg
 
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Hawke.

Sleepin' on the blacktop
Elena Berezina.jpg
(art by Elena Berezina)

Name: Robert Warren
Age: 23
Pronouns: He/him
Sexuality: biromantic/ace
Race: human

Weapons, if any: none yet
Backstory: Robert Warren is the last remaining member of the noble Warren family, so named for the tunnels and catacombs that stretch like warrens beneath their Stronghold, Umbra Keep. He is the youngest son of the now deceased Lord Roland. Never particularly skilled in combat or magic Robert had mostly accepted his fate and decided to become a scholar. That was, until the kings men came, they stole away his mother and sister, both incredible mages. And when his father and brother tried to stop them they were murdered right in front of Robert. Robert was left alive, perhaps because he wasn't much of a threat, or perhaps as some cruel joke. Along with grieving the loss of his entire family Robert now found himself trying to figure out how to be a Lord. He provides support and shelter to the resistance.
 

Sleipnir

The Eight-Legged Norse Horse
Pictures Coming Soon


Name:

Silvyr Spicer
Age:
27
Pronouns:
He/him/they/them
He likely would not correct you if you were to use "She/her"
Sexuality:
Bisexual
Race:
Half-Sylphid
(Changeling)

Weapons, if any:

A longsword of house Warren
A shield bearing the sigil of house Warren
Evocation Manipulation. Silvyr himself cannot conjure or employ battle magics which might gift him the power to bend lightning, frost, or fire to his will. However, provided he has a focus through which to channel it and a source, he can manipulate sources which already exist to a point. Silvyr's preferred way to do so is to channel energies available to him through his sword, fighting then with a burning blade or throwing frostbite upon his enemies when he has the opportunity to do so.
Fey. While not a fully-realized sylphid, Silvyr does have the ability to fall great distances lightly and acrobatically.
Backstory:
A halfling who appeared in the cradle without warning, and who gradually grew aware of his status as half-blooded, Silvyr never asked his adoptive mother how precisely she and his father managed his apparent coming-to-be, nor did he ever even address it. He simply accepted that he was their child, and one way or another, it all clearly worked out.
Silvyr was raised by spice traders, and though he didn't object to his upbringing and his parents' desire for him to take the family business, he was not so inclined toward the art of sales as he was the martial varieties. The boy picked up a stick when he was young and, shrugging and accepting this passion, when he was 13, they put his first sword in his hand instead, and Silvyr trained with it relentlessly. It was an exhilarating feeling for a young man: To hold so much strength and power, to know that he was capable of protecting those weaker than him was a comfort to Silvyr. Raised outside Umbra Keep, he had no clue just how highly his drive would pay off.
As a young adult, Silvyr offered frequently to take his parents' wares to market for them. On one such trip, he had the fortune of crossing paths with a group of travellers carrying with them a young man. Silvyr's intuition told him early that something was amiss here, and it took little prying and probing to determine that he had stumbled upon a kidnapping in progress. Without hesitation, the boy leaped to action and, displaying his natural affinity for battle, handled the bandits -- and in the process, rescued who he would later learn was the eldest son of Lord Roland Warren, after offering to accompany the stranger back to safety.
For his unwitting heroism borne of compassion, Silvyr was offered a knighthood by house Warren. He took the offer without so much as a moment's consideration, and his commitment did not falter.
When the keep was raided, Silvyr was present in the fight, and fought to the last to defend house Warren. In the fight, he suffered a blow to the head which knocked him soundly unconscious, and it's likely only by this injury that he survived the fight at all -- something he had no intention of doing.


Appearance:
An image, at the very least a sketch, will be provided once able.
Tall and wiry, but of hard-trained muscle, Silvyr has striking blue eyes ringed with silver. He was never one to put thought into his appearance; with dense, silvery hair which he appears to have only considered combing and pale, freckled skin, Silvyr's armor marks that he once belonged to a fine noble house, but his shield speaks to what happened to it, damaged by the last battle he fought in their name. He refuses all the same to part with it, and cares for it as well as he can. He has scarred shoulders, and when not in armor, wears a blue tunic and long black scarf. He carries a fine longsword which he clearly takes more care of than he does himself, being one of his finest and most well-maintained possessions.


Likes:
A lover of birds, as well as mounts of all kind; Silvyr loves working with and training animals. Also lights up when presented with the prospect of a good meal: As Silvyr's surname would suggest, he was raised by spice traders, and so grew up with a deep appreciation for spices, teas, and other mulled products. He takes great pride in his knighthood, even if he is struggling now. He also writes poetry when he can, and finds comfort in verse.
Dislikes:
While not an objectionable type, Silvyr loathes injustices and is terribly incompetent with numbers.



(Extra fun stuff, completely optional)
Theme song:
Pet/Familiar:

A large, draft-sized riding drake. She's black, with scales that shimmer silver in the sunlight, and has pale green eyes. Her name is Sterling, and she is heavily built. Silvyr babies her incessantly.


Character sheet

Name:

Seia Vestivia
Age:
23
Pronouns:
Any and All
Sexuality:
Race:

Human

Weapons, if any:

A very large sword -- only slightly shorter than she herself is and just as wide as her shoulders, with a squared tip.
"Grit." While Blood Magic or Witchcraft may be more accurate, Seia dislikes the terms and uses this one to refer to her magic affinity. Channeled through the blade, she can use a form of necromancy which attacks the wounds and weakens her enemies. She can salt the ground around her, causing burning wounds to those who cross into her circle for a short time, and strike enemies from a short distance with this same magic. She can use it to siphon life energy from her enemies -- not much, but some. Enough to seal her less severe wounds. In the most dire of circumstances, though, she may invoke the magic of Living Death, and upon being delivered a blow that might otherwise kill her, through bleeding out or wounds that could not be repaired, she may choose instead to sustain herself on her own inherent magic reserves. However, this is not a way to evade death: Should her grievous wounds not be sealed before her magic is depleted, or should it not be possible, she will ultimately succumb to them when the magic runs out. It is instead a way to take her enemies with her.

Backstory:
Born in the eastern reaches of the Veridipalus, Seia is the daughter of a small, isolated village. She showed early an affinity for a variety of magic native to the mangrove swamps. It was, by most outside the reach, considered a dark art -- some called it blood magic. Some called it witchcraft. Seia, as she trained and perfected her battle magic, preferred to call it grit. Hardly a cloistered mage's term, she knew, but Seia Vestivia was not a cloistered mage. She was but a daughter of the swamps who knew that, should she not learn to master her art, it would without a doubt consume her. And so, Seia learned, and she found a word for it that frightened her less than blood magic or witchcraft.
Grit.
And she didn't have a need to use it at first: Not til she was perhaps 18 or 19, and her village was plagued by thugs hidden in the mangroves. The Veridian soldiers would not help them -- there was war further east, and they didn't want to spare soldiers for such a simple matter. It was for this reason Seia picked up the sword for the first time, for real. She didn't take pleasure in the work, but she took comfort in knowing she committed acts of violence to defend the weak.
She walked the boardwalks of the Veridipalus after that, greatsword on her shoulder, and committed to the work: Wherever the strong abused the meek, she would find them, and she would put an end to their cruelty. It was in this path of hers, among the edges of the swamps, that she first encountered High King Kester's men where they were raiding a fishing village. She stood by, burning inside, too aware then that in the middle of town she could not rescue an old man who practiced nothing more than manipulation of the currents from a dozen trained soldiers. Even draining the life from their very bones for her own benefit, Seia would fall upon their blades: She knew this. And so she had no choice but to stand back and watch.
She took to the swamps in the dark that night, and instead picked the soldiers off, and cloaked in shadow, returned the man home. He and the soldiers who survived told ghost stories of a demon in the dark who came to his rescue.
Seia left then, and returned to her lonely walk. She had a new purpose after that: The greatest oppressor she could seek out was the high king. So seek him out she would.
Appearance:
Though not especially tall, Seia can be something of an imposing figure, with muscular arms and a sturdy, soft midsection defined by muscle and virtually no tapering. Clearly, this is a young woman who's never seen a corset. Seia's face is soft and young-looking, and her dark brown, nearly black hair is often either tied up out of her face or half-down with a braid down her back. She carries no sigil or shield, and her armor is minimal. Seia's eyes are also very dark brown, nearly black. She has full lips, and a generally pretty, pleasant sort of face. She wears rough, worn boots from years walking the boardwalks of the Veridipalus, and one prominent scar across her midsection. She has tan skin from years in the sun. Her shoulders and face are heavily freckled from this.
Likes:
Seia enjoys history, and appreciates strange and new cultures. She is a collector of things, without any specific reason or topic of interest, and maintains a strong interest in the history and names of weapons.
Dislikes:
There is little Seia Vestivia truely loathes. She loathes bullies.


(Extra fun stuff, completely optional)
Theme song:
Pet/Familiar:

None yet, but I will be looking for one
 
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Hawke.

Sleepin' on the blacktop
Lion2 by Koutanagamori.jpg
art by Koutanagamori on Deviantart

Name: Shatter Roar
Age: 30
Pronouns: He/him
Sexuality: Pan/bi
Race: Catfolk (lion)

Weapons, if any:
A greatsword that whistles through the air when swung, its blade is forged with a metal known as Sunsteel, which seems to glow golden in the light of the sun.
Backstory:
The circumstances of Shatter Roar's birth are not known, only so much can be guessed. He was found an abandoned cub alone in the Savannah, starving and nearly eaten alive by fleas. He was taken in by a generous Lord who was known for taking orphans of all kinds, feeding and sheltering them and caring for them as if they were his own.
As he grew he became quite skilled in wrestling, winning many schoolyard brawls, and starting several himself much to his adoptive father's dismay.
In an attempt to put Shatter to work doing something useful he sent him off the Anan royal academy. There he learned the art of battle, putting his great strength and size to good use, he found that he was a skilled strategist as well as a good warrior, which made him a valuable soldier to have in the King's army.
Over time he rose through the ranks, proving his might again and again, Til he reached the rank of general, and was offered a position as the Kings strategic advisor. Many questioned this decision, as the Catfolk was young and brash, and nobody had ever seen a lionfolk appointed to such a high position.
But before Shatter could prove himself the queen passed, and all hell broke loose.

He led as many of the king's battlemages out of the city as he could aided by Lady Thelind, but they were ambushed, and many died.



 

Hawke.

Sleepin' on the blacktop
Sign ups close today once the intro is up. If you have unfinished forms you should finish them now

KaramelKarma KaramelKarma (tagged because they have unfinished sheets)​
 

infectedmouth

horns like the devil ✗
Name: Rodormuth
Age: Late 20's, early 30's
Pronouns:
He/him
Sexuality:
Ace/Aro
Race:
Scalefolk (Alligator)

Weapons, if any:
A three-sided dagger that vaguely resembles a dragon's tooth
Backstory:
Born and raised in Anan, Rodormuth had seen the rise of Kester's command. He often spent his time in the swamps with a few of his family members, but as the exiles began to really come around full force, Rodormuth had come to the vicious realization that the mages needed help. He quickly left for Umbra Keep upon hearing word about the stronghold, and found himself at their doors offering help.
Rodormuth had a friend who was a mage, and had witnessed them be pulled away from him, their hand was just inches from him. He couldn't grab them and pull themback, and every time he shut his eyes, he could only see their scared expression. His hatred for Kester grew more and more, needing to find them again.
The gator had learned of Shatter Roar and Thelind's escape and soon gained admiration for them. Having never been much of a fighter, Rodormuth feared that they would turn him away. He taught himself how to fight, and got the gull to ask Shatter Roar to help out here and there. Now, Rotormuth is a pretty good fighter, dirty with a blade. He is glad to be a part of the group.
Appearance:
Rodormuth is a 7" tall gator. He has a very large throat and a broad snout, housing many dull teeth. His eyes are a pale yellow, with black slits. A large scar runs from his eyebrow crest towards his nostrils. He holds a mean posture, slouching and constantly staring. He has wide shoulders and a round belly and rather stumpy legs and arms. He runs faster on all fours. He has a long, angular tail.
Likes:
It is unclear what he truly likes, but he enjoys the sun. It's obvious when he finds a nice spot for tanning under the sun when he just sinks onto the surface and rumbles.
Dislikes:
It's also very unsure what he doesn't like, but he generally does not like there not being any justice for the mages.

(Extra fun stuff, completely optional)
Theme song:
N/A
Pet/Familiar: Egyptian Plover

Name: Basite
Age: Late 30's
Pronouns:
He/him
Sexuality:
Pan
Race:
Centaur (Cold-blooded Draft)

Weapons, if any:
Bow and arrow
Backstory:
Sent to the Outlands for promising death upon Kester for the choice he made, Basite had learned not to trust, and quickly grew hostile to newcomers or anyone that tried to get close to him, unless they were mages or others seeking help from Kester's wrath. He would let them stay in the little hut he built himself until they were able to get back on their feet.
Basite grew up in Thoigard as a foal, with a wide family. As word spread about Kester's decision against the mages, the centaur found out that his family supported the High King. Often, Basite would try to change their minds, only to be shut down. With anger, Basite turned on a townsfolk that was sharing the news, and as he swore up and down to take down Kester, his family decided to rid of him. It was cloudy to the centaur on whether he was banished or if he had run away — all he knew was that he could not go back.
Basite learned that Umbra Keep was requiting for equality of mages, and he refused to stop when he set out to find said stronghold. He joined them with only one thing on his mind — saving those mages and finally having equality.
Appearance:
Basite is a rather large, Belgian draft centaur. He has a strongman physique on his human half, with incredibly wide and thick shoulders, a barrel chest, and a thick stomach and round arms. He has very long hair that covers his face most of the time, usually tangled. He has a wide nose and constantly furrowed brows. His eyes are a deep blue. He is a bay roan colour on his horse half.
Likes:
I'll be honest I have no clue rn, (N/A)
Dislikes:
Kootie infested Kooter Kermit

(Extra fun stuff, completely optional)
Theme song:
N/A
Pet/Familiar: N/A
 

Hawke.

Sleepin' on the blacktop

Thread is up! if you have a WIP post please finish them and they can be brought in later.
 

TheCrowKing

Junior Member
Name: Anziium Petrichoras Aravyre
Age: 26
Pronouns: He/Him
Sexuality: Pansexual
Race: Tiefling

Weapons:
- A Xiphos Sword
- Cleverly disguised, bladed hair stick


Backstory:
Tucked deeply within the surrounding forests of Thoigard lie a simple, although pleasant home built from the ground up by two former adventurers that just so happened to meet one another at just the right time. Despite their lengthy travels and the odds of meeting their end upon their journey, the two lovers, a tiefling rogue and a human ranger, managed to survive their ordeal and create a home for themselves and their eventual brood of half-devil children. Among this horde, our focus lies upon their first physical manifestation of their love for one another, their first-born son, Anziium.​

Anziium was near enough the perfect child; he was polite, kind, intelligent, a twinge of a shut in compared to the further ruffians that made up his sisters and brother, but none the less loved greatly. As the family grew in numbers, he would serve as the younger children's protector and caretaker. Despite the unmistakable ability for his parents to care for the family, basic needs as well as protection, he saw fit that his duty as the eldest son was to pay special care in keeping his siblings safe. Considering his youngest sister was a bit thick-headed, it was greatly appreciated by his parents.

Years living comfortably in this loving home would follow, with little more than some minor spats amongst the tiefling brood. Life carried on with the growth of the family as they lived off the spoils of their parents' adventures and the production of war horses. At least, until the early beginnings of the manifestations of the childrens' magical abilities. Being the eldest, Anziium's was the first to make its appearance, he practicing its usage under the watchful-eye of his elven lineage grandmother until he was old enough to attend a mage college further away from home. Of course, his family was certainly supportive, but was deeply saddened by how swiftly the years had came and that their first-born would leave the nest relatively soon. This would initiate the beginning of their son's adventure through life. With many well wishes and bittersweet tears, they sent their son off to begin his own life.

The duration of the college's lessons were certainly extensive, but well worth the studious student's efforts. He had grown quite adept at his abilities to create illusory magics as well as divination. Yet, with this newfound power and self-confidence, the young tiefling felt as though it were time to leave the nest, so to speak. After a short return to his childhood home to gather his belongings and approach his family with the desire to brave the world as an adult, he set off to begin his own journey. Unfortunately for this poor soul, mother and father's endeavors hadn't succeeded without the gathering of enemies; without his parents' protection, he was an easy enough target out in the tooth-and-nail world that await him. It wouldn't be long before his existence came to knowledge and an abduction taken place.

For the longest year of Anziium's life, the young lad was subjected to brutal conditions underneath the keep of individuals up to no good. Scores needed to be settled between themselves and his parents, pain shed. It would be first taken out upon their son in various forms of torture, the devious individuals finding amusement in the harm of their enemies offspring before eventually contacting Anziium's parents for a final battle they expected to win. In that case, the group was mistaken, for the tiefling's parents came with a vengeance to tear the kidnappers apart for the abduction of their son. Their lives would be taken, the tiefling boy rescued, but not at a hefty price. Injuries were sustained not only to his two parental figures, but himself as well.

While Anziium was retrieved from his imprisonment, he suffered from heavy wounds not only to his body, but his mind as well. Throughout the duration of his punishment for his parents achievements, Anziium suffered several cranial injuries that severely disrupted his mind in such a way that his memory failed him. So much so, he couldn't even recognize his rescuers for who they were, rescuers none the less, but utter strangers to him. With their son retrieved, the Aravyre family retreated to their home to begin the healing of their wounds and the hopeful praying that their son would return to his previous self. Yet, it never seemed that blessing would come. The approach of war against mages would come first, beckoning a concerned father to take up arms to protect his offspring against such dangers. Not being a magic-user himself, Anziium's father was more than eager to lie down his life for the sake of his family.

Now, despite having all but being taken in by what he considered strangers, Anziium did find himself loyal to these people he had yet to entirely believe to be his family. And where came loyalty, there came an underlying desire to pay back such a debt for saving himself from a life of pain and misery. Approaching them, he pushed for the exchangement of his father's taking up of arms for his own, he prepared to fight for the sake of these people despite his recovering mind. His body was fit enough, he able to defend himself in push came to shove. It was the least he could do, that lost sense of duty unconsciously pushing him to save those whom claim to be his family. While it wasn't the most liked declarement, his father's body had already been pushed to its limits and left only himself to take up the role to protect those he cared for most, even if he didn't remember them. What he didn't know as he began his venturing to Umbra Keep, was that his sister, the second-born of the children, followed him not only to act on protecting their family, but making it her turn to be the one to protect her brother after all he's done for her and her siblings.

Appearance:
Anziium stands at a generous 5'11" with a lithe build, near enough feminine for a male. His skin is very similar to his father's such being a darker grey skin tone that brings out his bronze-hued eyes. The male's hair is an envy of any female, his raven-silken locks framing his face before gracefully gliding down his back to rest just above the base of his bladed tail. Upon his shoulders, most of his back, and the nape of his neck bare the permanent reminders of his time spent captive, deep scarring viciously sprawling across the surface to form ugly, patched skin. Not only this, but his once grand horns, arced back like that of axe blades, now stand incomplete, one horn completely broken down to where it connects at his skull. Uncomfortable in tighter garb, the tiefling is generally concealed by several layers of robe-like garments similar to eastern culture. In his left ear is an obsidian and moonstone moon phase earring that is akin to a family crest, followed by a thinner choker wrapped around his neck.

Likes:
- Field Guides, Texts and Tomes, woodland creatures, a variety of teas, hot springs,
Dislikes:
- Sandy locations, overly rowdy individuals, canines, the disappointment in his family's eyes as their son can't even recognize them

Theme song:
X
Familiar: TBA
Mount:
Soot, a blue roan appaloosa mare
1615148501460.png


 

Attachments

  • Anziium Petrichoras Aravyre.jpg
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infectedmouth

horns like the devil ✗
Name: Vesania Bielschmidt
Age: 27 years
Pronouns: he/they
Sexuality: pan
Race: tiefling

Weapons, if any:
just his hands tbh, maybe a couple of daggers (he's a stabby type)
Backstory: Ves had grown up in Saphia, in a very secluded, quiet home. With rather, ah, unfriendly parents (father, mostly), Ves had grown up homeschooled because of many questions.He had two brothers, Axel and Chris. Chris fell sick at a young age and passed away. Axel was older than Ves and had basically raised him. When Henry, Ves' father, got word of High King Kester and his ideals about mages, the man, despite being that of magic himself, tried to teach the kids that magic was bad, and that they should never use it. Henry very closely followed Kester's rules. Their mother, Pheobe, did not follow Kester, but because of Henry's outrageous temper, she never said or did anything to stop him, though she did encourage small doses of magic when he was not around.
After a particularly heavy night, Henry met his demise in a freak accident. About the same time, as Ves stood at the top of the stairs, watching his father at the bottom, a stray spark in the fireplace struck their couch and it caught on fire. Axel and Ves made it out alive, but their mother was no where to be seen. Since then, Axel had been raising Ves. The two lived in a home with a mage whom they were sheltering. During a particularly normal morning, their house was broken into and Erin, the mage, had been abducted. Ves went after the abductors, and with no luck, had stumbled across the Keep.
Appearance: About 6ft, very lanky, and albino. He has red eyes and sharp ears. Covered head to toe in nonsensical tattoos and multiple piercings. Long, white hair that is shaved on left side, reaches just past his shoulder blade. Thick brows with a single piercing above left brow. Bull ring in nose and tongue ring. Often wears some sort of leather harness under vest, with ripped, tight pants. Doesn't usually wear much else unless forced to.
Likes: Chocolate milkshakes, preferably. Cats, alcohol, sleeping.
Dislikes: Dogs. He doe snot like dogs. Also, people. He's a social butterfly but doesn't like being around people too long (he's got what the kids call Separation Anxiety and he does not want to get too attached to people because he WILL suffer)

Theme song:
Verbatim ; Mother Mother
Pet/Familiar: Cat named Twinkie.
 
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TheCrowKing

Junior Member

Name:
Jonako
Age: Undetermined
Pronouns: He/Him
Sexuality: Undetermined
Race: Catfolk (Spirit)

Weapons:

His only weapon would be his sword. Able to summon the weapon at will, Jonako is the one and only person to wield the sword, it dissipating the moment it leaves his hands.
Backstory:

Before this period of war, before Kester’s decree, one particular mage worked out of her own home as a healer. She would carry herself from her cottage to treat the townsfolk of their ailments. The woman was rather kind, treating everyone equal when she did venture into the city. It was here that she found her first love, soon with child. The father though, rejected the responsibility for himself that he had caused, but no matter. The woman remained in the healing business until the war broke out, she soon realizing her situation. Fearing for herself and the unborn baby, she summoned a familiar that would sever as her assistant and protector. The universe brought to her what appeared as a young man whom could shift into a black feline, much easier to conceal in this awful world now. Taking him as her familiar, she named him Jonako. Now, for a while they were safe, protected by a magical barrier surrounding their hidden grove of the woods, but a close call forced the woman to part ways with her now toddler. Passing the young child to her lifelong human companion, she commanded Jonako to remain at her side, so the child grew and survived without the scent of magic clinging to it. To prevent him from disobeying her orders, for he cared greatly for the young child, the mage wiped clean his memories of the child, least he ever be captured and forced into spilling information. At this point, she realized that he would be in danger if she ever fell into the King's Mens' hands. Without his knowledge, she set a deep rune into the familiar, severing their ties if she were ever to chant its activation incantation.
To begin anew, the pair wandered until they came upon an abandoned cottage they could call their own, finding peace in their hidden grove, despite the raging war on their kind. As the hunt for mages drew on, the familiar only grew more anxious of his master venturing out, begging her to allow him to carryout any errands she had, for she still wished to heal others that secretly kept with the mages. Generally, Kelaraid would allow him to do so, but one particular day, she insisted it be her that ran the errand so that she could heal a rather sickly family in a separate dimension. She left with the promise she would return in a few days time. And so, Jonako wait....and wait...and wait. Unknowingly to him, his witch was captured and slaughtered among her kind by the King's Men. Before she could part from this world in blazing glory, she was able to release Jonako from being bound to her, setting him free as his own individual being.
Unable to follow his command any longer, the familiar set out to locate his master, wandering far and wide to find her. Jonako is bound and determined to find Kelaraid, and will not accept the possibility she may no longer remain in this world. It is during this search he will stumble upon Umbra Keep, taking up arms to help the effort, but accomplish his own goal.

He will find her, even if it comes to the day he is no longer.

Appearance:
In his humanoid form, Jonako stands at a solid 6' 3" with a weight of 193 lbs. Skin sun-kissed and peppered in scars of his labors, the familiar is graced with a toned , yet lithe figure. Eyes burning brightly with unbound curiousity, he takes in the treasures of new worlds with only one usable eye, it amber in color, the other dead, milky white. Among the edges of his eyes appear to be long scars, appearing as though they were self-inflicted. He is unknowing of their origin. His hair is a bit long, reaching well over his ears in a swirl of dark brown curls. If one were to view his back, it is illuminated with soft green runes, varying in purpose. In the feline familiar form, his eyes remain the same coloring, runes not visible.


Personality:

Jonako is a gentleman through and through. Having been risen up as a rather proper familiar, his attitude is geared more towards formal. Answering to others as Sir or Lady, he will often bow in greeting towards those he meets. Besides being the proper assistant he was meant to be, the familiar is genuinely a sweetheart. Always ready to learn something new of the world that surround him, he takes into careful consideration that some cultures are different, unique.

Other:
  • Jonako's two forms do not merge. He does not have cat ears or a tail whilst in his human form.
  • In the time of wandering the world, he had to hunt for himself, meaning mice, birds, etc. It isn't uncommon for him to switch to his feline form to dine on meals, more use to primitive meals that those prepared.
  • The skin on his heels are thick and heavily worn from his travels.
  • He bears his witch's family crest along the collar of his cloak, refusing to remove it, even with the dangers around him.
  • At his home, his witch kept several herbs, which resulted in him learning a majority of them and their medicinal purposes.
  • His master's favor scent was lavender, and to today he will find peace in the proximity of the scent.
  • Engraved in his back are six, varying runes. Each was painstakingly carved and sealed by his master to protect him from the evils of the world. Each rune glows brightly with a green hue.
 

DovahBeat

Dragon Cowboy

Name: Silent Quill (Quill for short)
Age: 22 (In human years equivalent)
Pronouns: he/him
Sexuality: Aro/Ace
Race: Catfolk (a cross between a lynx and domestic breed)

Weapons, if any: a bow with arrows, dagger, and short sword
Backstory:

Quill was born and raised in a mountainous jungle in a small village in Anan, called Wildepoint. His family lived as hunters/trappers and were very poor. This, and the fact Quill has a sickly younger sister, lead him to start stealing. Eventually, Quill became aware of a legend of some relic that could potentially cure his sister. He's been searching for it ever since, despite it possibly not even existing.
Quill also knows Thelind. He had been pickpocketing and stealing in Khipia when he got caught by guards and put in jail. This caught Thelind's attention and she showed interest in him. When Quill (then age 14) explained to Thelind why he was stealing (Which was to get money for medicine for Little Bird), she let Quill out secretly in the middle of the night, on the condition he becomes her apprentice. He has trained under her ever since.
Quill's Mother, Cloud in the Sky (Sky), takes care of their small house and Little Bird, basically a stay-at-home mom, while Quill's father, Mystery Trail (Mystery), provides for the family by hunting and using the wilderness to sustain them. What they don't use from his hunts they sell, such as extra pelts or extra meat. This doesn't leave them with much money, hence why Quill took to thievery to help sustain them. His family isn't exactly proud of the lifestyle choice, but they don't shame Quill for it. They know he won't take more than what he needs from any innocent person he steals from.
Quill's parents do worry for him while he's out on his adventures, and are more than relieved when he comes home safely or writes home that he's okay.
Wildepoint is small, and is mostly agricultural. The residents that aren’t farmers usually are hunters, or possess whatever necessary job the village needs. It doesn’t have many shops, only a general store that everyone goes to and maybe a few others out of necessity. Basically, if it’s a luxury, they wouldn’t likely have it.
Quill’s family lives on the outskirts of the town by the river. It is a humble home, not much in the ways of extras. It is one story, three bedrooms and one common room that functions as a living room, dining room, and kitchen. Quill’s father, Mystery Trail, provides for the family as a hunter. His mother, Cloud in the Sky, stays at home and looks after Little Bird, Quill’s kid sister.


Appearance:

Artwork courtesy of Sleipnir Sleipnir
Likes: gonna leave this secret for now shhhhhh
Dislikes:

(Extra fun stuff, completely optional)
Theme song:
Pet/Familiar: He hab hormse named Buck, and a tiny spider familiar.


♞♞
 

ThisAsian

New Member


Adelaide De Rivia Le Montcroix

Voiced By: Irelia [Ohara, Sayaka]
Theme: Drum Go Dum

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━
May the flames consume you all.

Pronouns: She/Her
Race: Human; Cursed Dragonborn
Age: 243
Weight: 170lbs
Height: 5'5
Sexuality: Hetero



Personality:

Adelaide is what you may typically know as the quiet, smart type. She trusts no one, and thus, is prone to being overly cautious when a stranger approaches her. Due to mannerisms and etiquette, she is forced to interact with everyone that decides to give her their time. Her general opinions of an individual, are again, held back by her tongue, unless that individual has established close relations to her. Adelaide, being a Noble Lady, is accustomed to insults and snide remarks. Her demeanor isnt exactly cold, its more distant. She will answer questions and delve into conversations. Those that are experienced in combat are seen as potential people that can garner her respect.

Backstory:
Weapons, if any: None

Adelaide is the only child and daughter to Alistair Montcroix, Duke of Rivia. He is known for his prowess during the Great Battles of the empire, gaining popularity and status from the king himself. Being a prime bachelor, his awards and renown reached only within the empire, but after attending the Academy, managed to find a wife. As he brought her home to build the dukedom, his wife fell ill during her pregnancy. For the next few months, his wife was under the influence of a curse that he received from the war. It would serve to destroy any potential children the duke attempted to conceive, but it seemed, in exchange for her mother's life, Adelaide took on the curse herself. Its the reason why she has immortal human parents while she herself looks adopted. With the curse came an almost ageless life, to the entire family. This didn't exclude them from dying a horrible death, however. To her, it granted her the ability to wield alchemy given her prior knowledge to it.


The beginning of the Rivia's dragon bloodline began with Adelaide, but she has no intention of continuing her bloodline, much to her parents dismay. Her mother adored her for her unique features, cherishing her child like no other. Adelaide herself refused to accept herself, and buried her mind in books of alchemy and warfare. From an early age, her father began to teach her how to defend herself against others, her affinity for combat growing day by day. At some point, the empire was on the warfront once again, and her father was called to help once more. Adelaide, being the headstrong woman that she was, refused to let her father go. He had not fought for over half a century, and she would be damned if he died in combat now.

Adelaide took her father's place, running away from home. A lot of people are going to yell at me for making a Mulan reference. BASICALLY. She went to the warfront, where she learned her combat abilities and had the opportunities to conjure alchemy in the field. Along with her allying dukedoms, she was able to complete her tasks in the war for the empire, returning home safe with very few injuries.

A few years passed and soon the King himself turned on his citizens. The fall of the Empress was felt kingdom wide, but the bloodshed for mages and magic abiding creatures were felt throughout the entire continent. Adelaide, being the only Montcroix to be seen as a threat, was subjected to a pardon upon her father's request and reasoning. She watched as her allies fell one by one, their blood soaking her hands indirectly. Adelaide realized the King needed to fall, and she would be checkmate in this fight.

“ May the flames consume you all.”



Hobbies:

→ Under The Tree: Being outside is more relaxing for her than being indoors; she's allowed to spread her wings and stretch. Oftentimes, Adelaide can be caught sleeping under one.

→ Water Affinity: Despite being a creature that has flame abilities, she's very fond of water. Again, this is also why she bathes for very long.

→ Turning Pages: During her time being homeschooled, Adelaide often read books every second of the day. Of course, the only ones that had interested her was magic and alchemy spell books and the 'how to'.

→ Athlete Much?: After returning home from war, it was nearly impossible for her to sit still if she wasnt reading a book. At the very least, Adelaide had to work out once a day for an hour to burn through her adrenaline.

→ How To Look Pretty: Adelaide has a soft feminine side to herself, the very basic at least. Her tastes parallel that of her mom's, and is often a picky woman when it comes to clothes.

→ Oh Look! Shiny Things: As all dragons do, Adelaide has a hoard that comes in the form of diamond jewelry. Specifically gold or rose gold.

Quirks:
→ Sleepy Dragon: Adelaide sleeps a lot. What follows her naps tend to be many crackhead hours of her finishing tasks quickly.

→ Iron Stomach: She can eat two cows if she tried, she really could. Her hunger gets worse during her time of the month.

→ Hygienic: Because a lot of dirt can get stuck between her scales, Adelaide spends a good amount of time in the bath simply tending to her own skincare.

→ Scale Dispersion: Her smaller scales shift throughout her body, often changing where they appear from her day to day appearance. Adelaide can even control her scales, allowing for her to appear with fully human skin if she wished.

Secrets:
→ Dragon's Bite: Adelaide will attempt to actually eat you if you annoy the shit out of her. She will physically bite your hand if you get close.

→ Spiked Tail: Her tail has spikes that are retractable. In many instances, she can force them out and hit someone with it.

→ No No, Dont Touch Me There, This Is My No No Square: Near the base of her tail, on the underside, is super sensitive.

→ Mother's Melody: Her mother had a voice that even sirens would envy. While she doesnt sing on the same level, her voice is still very melodic and carries notes very well. Adelaide doesnt sing in front of others, only normally to herself when shes alone and comfortable.

→ Not So Experienced: She's...only ever known alchemy, fighting, and warfare. Her game for romance isn't the best, if even there.



♞♞♞
 
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DovahBeat

Dragon Cowboy

Name: Kunkato
Age: Adult
Pronouns: He/him They/them
Sexuality: Uhhhh he’d Bi-gendered so I guess straight but also not? uhhhhhh
Race: Kirintaur

Weapons, if any: Kirin-scale and Damascus steel spear, lighting magic,
Backstory: Kunkato spent most of his childhood alone, and remained alone until he met his wife and joined her herd when she found him sick and injured in the outlands. He eventually came to lead the herd with her, until she was stolen from him and forced to marry a human noble. He nearly died in the conflict, suffering a long and deep wound from his hip down his barrel. His children were killed, his wife taken from him, and left for dead. He spent over a year recovering and only now is able to travel again and try to take back what he lost and get revenge. Until the outlaw of magic, that is. Still injured, he makes his way to the mage rebels in an attempt to seek help and gain allies.
Appearance: (image coming) A black-purple-iridescent kirintaur, he has a large scar going from his human hip down across his barrel. He has jagged, crystal-like antlers and horn, and long dark hair going down his back like a mane.
Likes:
Dislikes:

(Extra fun stuff, completely optional)
Theme song:
Pet/Familiar: (One mount and one pet per person. Add image and pets name)


♞♞♞
 

Huntertabbysandshark3

The lord of randomness and the warp
Name: Alno Teldor
Age: 37
Pronouns: he/him (has been mistaken for a girl enough that he may react to female pronouns out of habit)
Sexuality: heterosexual
Race: previously human now part wyvern due to curse

Weapons, if any: 2 shortswords capable of becoming superheated. and a stinger tail.

Backstory: Alno teldor was once a respected knight, and warrior, overconfident and cocky to the last, his reasoning for this was fairly well founded the tall muscular knight and his enchanted blade cut though anything in his path.. until one day he ran into a sorceress who instead of fighting him simply cursed the huge knight no long a tower gleaming armoured man.. but a small strange creature part wyvern part woman almost.. just to finish of the disgrace, shunned and outcast now he left to wander the land.. looking to get revenge on that sorceress, though he feels little reason to remove the curse anymore having grown comfortable with his new form as it offered a lot of useful boons... prehaps this wasn’t so bad afterall
Appearance:
1616908378548.png
Likes: (optional)
Dislikes: (optional)
 
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TheCrowKing

Junior Member

Name: Aurrari Leonelle Yveitteve
Age: Early 30s
Pronouns: He/Him/His
Sexuality: Bisexual
Race: Fae

Weapons:

+ A concoction of poisons
+ A set of well-loved knives
+ A cast-iron skillet

Backstory:
Born into a matriarchal society, Aurrari's birth wasn't a particularly celebrated one. His mother, Rhaskii Leonelle, known to many as The Tempest, only bore a child in hopes they would carry her legacy of a fierce warrior once she breathed her last breath on the battlefield. As with any other expectant mother in the tribe, she wished for her unborn child to be a girl, least they be nothing more than a worker and only shine when there was need for more offspring. It was here the great warrior's womb failed her, she producing her first heir, Aurrari. She cared very little for the child, all but kicking her offspring to the side for the midwife to care for until they grew old enough to be of any use to their civilization.

Now, the family sitter, Aushier Yveitteve, was a woman that despite societal views, cared greatly for the warriorress's child. As a woman who was incapable of producing any of her own young, she all but took the boy as her own. While she received horrid treatment for it, she mothered Aurrari until he was a thriving young man -as much as he could be in such a tribe-.

This would begin the brew of hatred towards his biological mother.

He worked, did what he was expected to do, but one such action from the warrioress had him speak out where he shouldn't.

Less than pleased with her inital heir, Rhaskii sought out a mate outside of the clan, searching for a race that would pair well with her own blood, to produce something far superior. The woman wanted even more power than she had, a title fit for someone fostering a new breed of soldiers for their future. And in such, charmed a poor, love-stricken male she had met in her travels. Morpheus Faelen was his name, a skinwalker that fell in love far too easily. After she was certain her womb carried the next to carry her name, she did away with the man. He was heartbroken, confused as to what her sudden distaste of him was for.

As the pregnancy carried on, she grew more and more suspecting of a curse befallen upon her by irking the man. It was a horrid period, she constantly fighting back illness throughout the duration. And by the time she birthed the child...well...she was certain he'd cursed her. Aushier delivered the child for her mistress, but it wasn't even close to Rhaskii's liking. The child, yet another male, did not hold the roseyness of a newborn, but had skin as white as chalk. Their hair was not golden, but clung to their scalp, a tarry black and sickly grey. Most horrid of all, was those sightless eyes, milken orbs of the dead that stared back at her.

She absolutely did not want it.
It might as well have died in the womb for all good it was.
If her body couldn't rid itself of the abomination before its birth, she could at least scrub her mistake from existence now.

Before she could, Aushier begged the soulless woman to spare the infant, allow her to remove it from her sight once and for all. Thoroughly disgusted from the groveling and overall uselessness of the woman before her, she begrudhgingly allowed her to take the child, with the condition of her removing herself from the clan. And with such offer given to her, she bore her wings to the hefty swing of a ceremonial dagger and trekked far away with her newly bundled infant. She knew Aurrari would never forgive her for leaving him to such a future, but she'd be damned if she allowed something so innocent as a child be murdered by its mother.

And so, she ventured far from her former clan, settling herself and the child in a dangerous bog, Fhein's Breath, one in which no one would bother them.

Alas, Aurrai never forgot the warm embrace of the woman he considered his true mother.
Years would pass before he decided to speak up, to address his mother on the topic, calling her out on her horrid nature. He wanted to know where Aushier had gone and what of the babe she had carried during her pregnancy. The boy was smart enough to know if it had been a success, she'd hadn't let the babe out of her sight; it was obvious her attempt at a superior breed had been a failure, only covered by the lie of a stillbirth to those around her.

He knew she lied.

As a gracious mother, one that most definitely loved her child, she let him know what had happened to his beloved Aushier.
In the form of the brutal removal of his own wings and tongue for speaking out against her.

Aurrari was exiled, his existence entirely expunged from the clan as he was punted into the cruel world, broken and voiceless.


To this day, he doesn't regret his decision. For after lengthy searching, he had managed to find those he loved most. Unfortunately, life was unfair in every such way, as the start up of the war threatened their very wellbeing, as this bog was full of magically-inclined creatures. The lands were torn apart to slay every magical beast that could be found, including the trio who only sought peace there.

Fate would decide that the reuniting of mother and son wasn't a relationship that would last, their time together cut short. Aushier, despite neither child of her own blood, did as any mother would have done in their position: Allow her children to have hopes at a future, even after she was gone. The kind woman gave up her own life to buy Aurrari more time to escape with his and his half-brother's life.

It is here that he had heard the first beginnings of rumors of a rebellion, immediately seeking any leads until he found Umbra Keep. Before they could turn him away, he fell to the ground and offered up his own life-long service in exchange for his brother's asylum.


Appearance:
Aurrari.png

(diastrons on tumblr)

+ 7' 1" gentle giant
+ Tanned Skin
+ Shorter white hair, very fluffy, braided on either side of the temple
+ Powder Blue Eyes
+ A set of scars along his back
+ Absence of a tongue
+ Sharper than average canines

Likes:
+ Any and all sweets, particularly sweet breads
+ Ironically, conversations with anyone willing
+ A gentle rain
+ Any task that keeps him busy and useful. He prefers kitchen work, but doesn't mind landscaping either

Dislikes:
- Meaningless arguments
- Rude commentary
- Others intentionally ruining his hard work
- Having to ask for help if he struggles at a task

Theme song: TBD
 
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Juju

now only dogs will follow me
Zephriel Starwind

Age: 26
Pronouns: She/her
Sexuality: Asexual
Race: Fae, Sylphid

Weapons, if any:
Fire magic (usually condenses it into a flaming sword). While quite good at elemental magic, she has only fought training dummies and sparred with other students. She has never been in a life-or-death fight. Nor has she ever taken a life.

Appearance: *see the above images. Though she is wearing shorts beneath her dress for ease of flying. There is an intricate moon tattoo on her shoulder.

Backstory:
Most of Zephriel's success was thanks to her being born into the right family. Both her parents were blessed with great magic prowess, and held positions as instructors in the city's Magic College. No matter what she did, onlookers would only see the best in her thanks to the luxurious, yet overbearing shadow of her parent's status. While her magic might have been average, all she received was lavish praise and comments about how 'gifted' she was.

Once that began, the real struggle became measuring up to the lofty standards she had unwillingly been associated with. Unlike her parents, magic did not come easy for Zephriel. She had to spend hours upon hours just to grasp magical theory, often consuming up her free time or sleeping schedule. It grew so out of hand that she could not ask for help from anyone, or else expose her true lack of talent, forcing her to often figure out things on her own.

She became quite good at acting like the effortless, gifted child, and managed to fool most people. Then she met Anziium. At first she hated him for how swiftly he caught on to spells that took her days to grasp.

Naturally, she thought it was the end of the world when he was the one to discover her secret struggles at magic. Yet instead of the end, it marked the beginning of a friendship. Rather than exposing her, Anziium offered to help her grasp the finer points of elemental magic she had been struggling to grasp. With his help, Zephriel needed to pretend less and less, and whenever she was with him, not at all. She had found a true friend, one that made the college years bright.

Yet even those blissful days came to an end. After graduation Zephriel and Anziium chose their paths, and while Anziium decided to head off into the unknown, Zephriel chose to remain in her life of safety and comfort. Yet before they went their separate ways, she made the tiefling promise not to die and to make sure not to forget her. They even got matching tattoos as a reminder.

While Anziium set off on adventure, Zephriel remained at the college's vast library, maintaining the collection of literature, records, and spell books. Letters between the two friends were exchanged as often as possible, yet one day Anziium's letters stopped arriving. At first Zephriel thought it was merely a delay, but as a year passed by she grew worried. Soon enough, more worries presented themselves whenever the king declared war on all magic.

People went into hiding, fleeing the college. Zephriel's family thought they were untouchable, that the college itself was untouchable, until the king's men came. They captured mages, killing those that resisted, and set the college and it's priceless library collection ablaze. Nothing was to be spared. Thousands of years worth of magical knowledge and history was burned away to ash, or so it would seem. While her parents protected the students, the head librarian entrusted Zephriel with an enchanted grimoire capable of mimicking, and if too close, consuming the knowledge of books around it. The library's last hope was that The Thief, as it was moved around the library over the years, had managed to create copies of most, if not all of the library's precious books. Including whatever was held in the restricted section.

Zephriel is currently on the run, trying to keep The Thief out of the hands of the king's men. She heard of Shatter Roar's resistance and is searching for their headquarters in hopes of protection and support to free the mages captured from the college... her parents included.

Likes: STARS. Tea, imported sweets, fine silk, the colour pink, being alone (some exceptions), reading, history, works of fiction and poetry, art, singing, music. FLYING.

Dislikes:
the wilderness, people who walk too slow, dirt, the dark, bugs, heavy accents, fish, technology.

Personality: Zeph is the poster-child of being booksmart without an ounce of streetsmarts. She was brought up in a life far removed from the struggles of the world, knowing only the comforts and pleasures it offered. However, the upper crust had its own survival tactics. The need to not only succeed, but to excel is deeply ingrained in her. She is a perfectionist and hates failure, even in the most simplest of things. She comes across as prideful and vain, but in reality is more obsessed with her short comings. Criticism is a sure way to put her on the defensive, and combined with her short temper can lead to emotional outbursts.

While bold and confident in her comfort zone, when outside of it she is indecisive and hesitant. She is afraid of many things beyond the city, such as monsters and brigades, and is almost entirely untested in true combat. Living in a life of comfort has also made her very picky and unable to cope with low quality living conditions.


Theme song:
Pet/Familiar: Aeonaxx
 
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