Fantasy [OPEN] World of Gea: The Greatest Adventure - An exploration Fantasy roleplay. [20/25]

[Fauxs]

Name: Callop Sidhe

Race: Half-Tuatha, Half-Human

Class: Summoner

Gender: Male

Age: 14

Nationality: Sótiran

Bio:

From within the warm forests of the Eonach Coillte where Tuatha reside in, a young half tuatha and his full-blooded tuathan mother live alone after being left by his human father because of their race’s “troubled relationship”. Clearly, his mother wasn’t positive of such an idea thus, the boy lived in a cold and distant household as his mother grew to dislike him. To him, the forest was his refuge. He felt a deeper connection with the forest as he felt safer there rather than his own home.

During one of his escapades in the forest, he met a wolf that appeared like a forest spirit covered in leaves and branches. At first, he feared the wolf, he ran as fast as he could but it catched up to him; however, the wolf appeared docile, like a friend of sorts in which he gravely needed. He befriended the wolf in no time and began to call it “Fauxs”. The result of having a relationship with the creature allowed the boy to develop a deep bond with nature and its inhabitants. On a day like any other, the tuathan mother’s feelings grew stronger, she then came to the conclusion of leaving her son. Eventually, the boy found himself living alone without a trace as to where his mother went. His emotions began to overwhelm him. Yes; he loved the idea of being outside, but knowing the thought of having no family made him feel weak and afraid. In the end, he had no choice. Having no idea how to live alone or what to eat, the boy decided to live the rest of his days in the forest; although, the wolf had other plans. The forest creature began to lead him out of the forest where he had a better view of the world around him. The boy then felt like he had a new purpose, although it wasn’t clear to him, he decided that he wanted to survive and be strong for him and his friend; the forest spirit.​

 

[Auda]

Name: #3435/Grunde
Race: Slime
Class: Sorcerer
Gender: None
Age: 9
Nationality: Created in Eranoire
Bio:
#3435 according to its maker, was a creation by an overzealous wizard named Azalie who was attempting to make a familiar with a limitless amount of magical energy to feed from. #3435, unlike the multiple experiments before him, showed promise for it is the only slime Azalie made that was able to continuously absorb the magical residue around it without becoming unstable. But as time continued to pass, Azalie’s expectations continued to grow alongside his ambition. The wizard, now filled with the desire for power, threw caution to the wind and infused #3435 with a copious amount of magical energy. The sudden rush of energy made the slime expand, its once smooth surface bubbling, flailing, as it tried to stabilise but failed. Azalie can feel the magic inside #3435 thrash, already knowing the outcome as he quickly grabbed what research he could before fleeing the scene just as the place erupted.

The massive explosion decimated a sizeable part of the lair, leaving nothing but rubble and destruction in its wake. Threads of slime can be seen all around the lair, some even splattering outside. The inhabitants of the land felt a massive earthquake and they went out to investigate the cause, but they weren’t able to come any closer because the area that surrounds the lair was filled with an unstable field of magical energy that lashes out to anything that comes near it. The inhabitants decided not to meddle with it and instead blocked the path towards the destruction in hopes of stopping people from randomly wandering into the area. The place then became infamous and was thought to be a result of a god’s anger. Ever since then, no one dared to walk in its direction.

Months have passed since the incident. The magical field is still present, preventing any signs of life to flourish. Silence permeated the area. Suddenly, movement could be observed in the barren land. Streaks of slime that littered the area seemed to move in one direction like ants. The chunks of slime, when gathered in the same place where #3435 exploded, and began reforming. Each individual slime sticking to one another, their cells combining to form one sentient being the size of a golf ball. #3435 is alive once more. As if it’s instinct, the slime’s first action was to absorb the magical residue from its previous explosion. The unstable field of magic did it no harm and instead, fed #3435 with a continuous supply of energy as it very slowly stabilized the area. With its previous strength returning, the slime wandered the lair, searching for its master only to be greeted by dust and an emotion it had never felt before. Loneliness. Its only company are the things Azalie left behind that weren’t touched by the explosion. With nothing left to do, it mourned the loss of its master.

Months turned into years as the once barren land met its first outside guest, a bird. #3435 had been stabilizing the area for years now and life started to welcome itself back to the land. A bird turned into a flock, followed by a herd, and fauna. All these years, the slime had been going through his master’s books. They were its only remaining connection to Azalie and it cherished every page. Along with the energy it had been absorbing, #3435 had been proficient in spell casting a long time ago. It had learned how to change its shape to appear more humanoid if needed and it learned how to create its own vocal cords as it sang with the birds on the trees. It was growing.

Life is good. #3435 was in the middle of reconstructing the lair when it felt a presence it has never experienced before, a human. It immediately rushed towards the human, excited for this is the first time it will meet someone, only to be immediately attacked by the said person. Shocked by the sudden hostility, the slime retreated and using its vocal cords, it let out a quiet ‘Stop’. The person, a woman now that they’re up close, immediately stopped and looked at the slime, not believing what she just heard. ‘Please. Stop.’ the slime repeated. The woman relaxed her stance, still surprised that a slime is seemingly sentient and can speak. #3435 approached the woman carefully, before introducing itself as ‘3. 4. 3. 5’. The woman replied with her own name, Cécilia. Thus, an unlikely friendship with a slime and a person was born. After a week of staying with the slime, Cécilia just learned all about #3435’s past and decided to take it with her in her journey which #3435 quickly agreed to, desperate to see the world beyond its home. With everything settled, Cécilia suggested a new name for the slime to mark its new life as an adventurer. Then, the world knew of Grunde for the first time.​

 

[FloweryMuffin]

Name: Korzhev

Race: Vodyanoy

Class: Shaman

Gender: Male

Age: 74

Nationality: Marshlands of Helmos

Bio: Ripped apart from his beloved swamps, Korzhev was thrown right into the hands of an unpredictable faith and left to wander an unknown world he cared very little for. The times where he would briefly wonder what lay beyond the trees manifested into a bleak reality. That was not how he would have liked to find the answer. Even so, Korzhev embarks on a journey into a vast sea of humans, armed only with his trusty staff. Constantly unimpressed by the sights presented to him, he would more often than not drown all of his complaints and worries into a glass of alcohol and continue on the next day, never to speak of the reason for this prolonged exile. He prays to the Greater Gods that he may soon find the road that leads to the home that he had forsaken.

 

[EdwardDewey98]

I wish to first thank you all very much for all these amazing characters! This looks like a crazy party of misfits, perfect for exploring this world. You are all awesome.

• Update 7/12/2020: The roleplay will officially start either the 9th or 10th of December depending on a few things. But it will start this week without a shadow of a doubt. While all the slots are filled in, we still need the full confirmation from one of our players, so for those interested, keep keeping an eye on this thread, who knows what awaits us this week!

 

[Develius]

Gonna plant this boy right here:

Spoiler: Dakari Aegypticus

• Name:
Dakarai Sarconocis Aegypticus

• Race:
Sobekan

• Class:
Warrior Cleric

• Gender:
Male

• Age:
47

• Nationality:
Entariushan

• Bio:
Once a fearsome warrior in a legion of Entariushanian Sobekans, Dakarai gave up the life of senseless conquest after seeing countless of his kin die and proceeded to run down a path of religious righteousness. He approached the great temple that worshipped his race's almighty reptilian god, Sobek'nia, for worship and after succeeding in their trials was he deemed worthy to become its protector. Serving the God's word, he was tasked to patrol the lands and vanquish any evil or misfortune that dare to tarnish the good will of Sobek'nia and regarding the well-beings of others. Despite his intense devotion to his god and his warrior heritage, Dakarai is a calm and patient individual which one could exchange advice and ideas with. Only in combat could one witness to Dakarai's old warrior habits in action; where he earned his mettle, honor and respect through brutal conflict.​

​

 

[EdwardDewey98]

(Sorry if this might be considered necroposting.)

• Update 31/05/2021: Sadly, due to various personal problems such as studies and general lack of time, we have lost the wonderful additions of Fauxs and Develius. Due to this, I am looking into recruiting two more players interested to join the expeditionary company. Currently, our players are in the city of Waterham solving a crime. I intend to introduce new player characters after the players solve the case. This will give newer players time to think about their characters. Feel free to ask any questions here or in private messages!

 

[Elenion Aura]

interested!

 

[Vexumin]

• Picture:

• Name: Noradriia Besile
• Race: Cambion (Gnome/Incubus)
• Class: Assassin/Rogue
• Gender: Female
• Age: 32 years old
• Nationality: Western Helmos Krasnoludek Clan
• Bio:
How it happened was anyone's guess. "It was forced" some would say. "Tillda would never sympathize or sleep with a demon," others would proclaim. Such a thing was never met with kindness, the bond of mortal and demon. So when the child of the young Krasnoludek woman was born, she would go unnamed. Her mother took her last breaths as her offspring took her first. The clans folk wouldn't have it. They would not let the existence of a halfling demon taint their clan. Out of kindness for the woman they fondly remembered before her passing, the child was not killed. Instead, they would sell the creature. It's life would be good for something, and someone out there would want it for one reason or another.

Years had passed, the child still went unnamed, still sitting in a caged wagon with other creatures like her. Unwanted. Uncared for. She had grown a little. There was nothing she had of her own clan. Her skin was a pale purple, her hair black as night, and her eyes a similar shade aside from the white hue of her iris. The one true feature that would never have her seen as a simple gnome though were the horns upon her head. They were still small, but they curved and pointed to the ceiling of the cage. They had so much room for growth, though each added inch would only bring the young girl more pain.

"Today we bring you a special prize! It's not often we see the product of such a bond in these halls, but we have one ripe and ready for the highest bidder. A Cambion!" The curtains were drawn, revealing her. She couldn't see a single face in the crowd, it was just a wave of color to her. She had not eaten in a while and she was dizzy. Numbers spat out with hands raised, things she didn't understand as well. All she could do was sit and wait for another to come and claim her from the stage. She wondered when she would be sold again as well. Would she hurt until then once again?

One final number was called in a deep and stern voice. No one continued on after it until the harrowing last word is shouted. "Sold!" the man before her said before she felt a hand under her arm, pulling her from the scratched and clawed at floorboards below. It was nothing but a mess of color once more as she was taken somewhere, though she passed out before too long. Exhaustion, starvation, dehydration all ate at her for so long. She wondered if she might have died before she could even be traded like the object she was raised to think she was.

Her eyes open and adjusted to the dark and swaying interior of a carriage. It was dim and exquisite. Whoever had purchased her certainly had the money to do so and be unphased by it. The face of the man across from her was finely toned. Some would think him a gentlemanly aristocrat were it not for the grim face he made. "You'll work and pay for your freedom. It shall be bought with blood. You will also need a name." The man reveals a small card in hand and then turns it so that the young girl could see. "Besile. This was your mothers family name. For your first name, you will be known as Noradriia. Do you understand this, Noradriia Besile?" Nora nods her head, eyes focused on the man. She understood.

Many years had passed and she had changed as well as all those around her. Trained to be a killer, marked with the scars of her profession and her removal of her horns. She became a trained assassin. She worked off her debts and claimed her freedom, but not before her master had passed. With his death marked her release from her duty, though she would always and forever carry the mark of her old master. The mark would be a promise that in his final moments she would continue on in his place and see more than he ever did.

 

[Elenion Aura]

• Name: Calocis Fellshade

• Race: Dökkálfar

• Class: Cleric of Nyarlaexedum

• Gender: Male

• Age: 32

• Nationality: Subterranean Dökkálfar City-State

• Bio: Calocis’ early life was bathed in Shadow, dedicated as a whelp to the service of the dark god of his people. For reasons yet unknown—as he does not seem over fond to share them—Cal stalks the surface world. Is he searching for something? Or is someone searching for him?

 

[BriiAngelic]

Sharif Amani Al-Kassam

Name: Amani Al-Kassam
Race: Human
Class: Spellsword
Gender: Male
Age: 27
Nationality: Kassemidian [The Kassemid Sultanate]
Bio:
Amani is one of the Sultana of Kassemid’s bastard children. Like his many half-siblings, he is currently in the running for the heir. While most of his sibling cohort all took to strength in their favored skill sets whether that be melee or magic, Amani decided to instead study multiple fields of both swordplay and magic. From a young age, Amani quickly showed favor in learning a wide skillset and an appreciation for training the mind.

As a bastard child of the sultana, he was raised with his half-siblings under the sultana's care. This led to him growing close to his half-siblings closer to his age. He was especially close to his elder sister, Sawda, and his elder brother, Amari, who both were the kindest to the young Amani. While tensions could always be higher in public the three managed a healthy relationship seemingly born from the brothers showing their support for Sawda as their believed best choice for ascension.

While Amani had initially given up on fighting for the ascension when the Mana Maelstorm hit Amani began to step up in ways that quickly drew attention to the then-teenaged Amani. In time this began to distance him from his sibling cohort, both due to the time Amani invested in new projects and the jealousy of the increasing eyes on Amani. Now was the time for research and Amani was more than ready to step up to the plate. Despite this he would not set out immediately, a good scholar prepares and knows when to strike. Instead, he consulted the aid of Sawda and Amani for the preparation of reexamining the world and helping the Kassemid Sultanate rise faster from the calamity.

Five years after the initial Maelstorm Amani was now prepared to set out to map the world once more. Armed with his trusty shortsword, knowledge of magic, his Mamluk, their mounts, and several weeks of provisions he felt ready to face the world. So of course it came to a violent wake-up call. Not many days out from the start of their journey, on the border of Kassemid Sultanate, his Mamluk attempted to assassinate Amani. With a resilience that came from a strong desire for life, he managed to overtake the man and kill him for the attempt. Once the shock had left him he managed to go through his items once more readying to leave back to his homelands, yet in going through the things once more he found something shocking. Evidence of the man being ordered to attempt the assassination, with a great deal pointing to his brother Amari as a potential culprit.

Instead, he decided to continue on the trek alone, trusting only his own wits. He chose to relay this in a letter to his elder sister Sawda left to the nearest town for sending.

He soon learned this was a stupid idea, and extremely difficult and all it took was three bad turns. For one traveling with two mounts may have allowed him to carry the extra provisions but on the other hand, it was extremely easy to steal said mount and provisions. Well, at least it wasn't his gold. However after two scrapes, one with a fierce beast and then once more with the same bandit, Amani decided it was worth looking into a traveling companion. Not but three months into his solo travel he met his first companion, Mihret, in the Entariush region.

The two journeyed together for three years before they would meet their next companion, Hazel, during a job for a nearby village to eliminate a certain threatening beast that was stopping trade between the neighboring forest villages. After several failed tracking attempts and continued attacks, the pair soon found they would not be able to proceed without the help of a well-versed local. After getting lost for a night they came upon Hazel's hometown and with some convincing managed to procure their aid. Once the beast was felled the trio went to collect their spoils.

The trio has been near inseparable ever since.

 

[The Prophet]

Mihret Vivar

• Name: Mihret Vivar
• Race: Human
• Class: Knight
• Gender: Male
• Age: 26
• Nationality: Empire of Hamala
• Bio: Mihret was born the only child of a minor noble in Hamala, though his ancestry goes back to the Empire of Entariush quite clearly. While others sought to grow to a higher position with political intrigue and magic, His family rose to it's relatively small power via knighthood. His father is a member of the Ritter von Sankt Friedwart, and Mihret both planned and was expected to so the same. Until he was seven Mihret studied academically, learning how to read/write and count, as well as accompany his family on trips to the religious capital of Ekxuma in Entariush. His favorite past-time when not being taught manners and whatnot were the tales of their monster hunting order, no matter how romanticized they could be. Tales of beasts, ogres, and even dragons falling to their great hunts; it was awe inspiring.

When the day eventually did come that he turned seven, he became a page to another lord, leaving his home in the countryside for one closer to the capital. Life as a page wasn't easy; running messages, serving, cleaning clothing and weapons, and learning the basics of combat. Might be required to arm or dress his lord in his armor, But the young page never complained, even when other local pages would complain as they waited outside meetings. In fact, his peers assumed him mute for the longest of times before realizing their mistake. In exchange for his service, his lord trained him in various forms of combat, hunting/hawking, and the paces of horse-riding. For his ceremony of becoming a squire at fourteen, Mihret had the honor of leading the hunt of a dangerous beast with his lord and some others. While they were successful, it left Mihret injured and needing rest for several days. When he recovered and awoke, he found his body quite cold despite the weather, frost building on his hand and grip whenever he held his sword. His years as a Squire went by quite fast; His duties ramped up exponentially, but he was responsible of much more and went along for many missions with the order. Assigned to a knight, he served as their personal attendant, performing anything they should ask for in exchange for their tutelage and training. Their code of chivalry was a common subject, but never more so than swordsmanship and athleticism. Marksmanship he never could pick up on; but he made up for it in spades with a sword or lance. Danger was common, but not something he was even allowed to shy from.

At twenty-one, Mihret had done it. He had become a fully fledged knight, and a member of his father's order at that. After he was knighted, Mihret had a selfish request. Unusual for such a reserved boy, they obliged when he asked to travel to Entariush in the name of their religion. Travelling from Lykos by sea, he visited the city and worshipped their god dutifully. It was his duty after all. He did not expect, however, to run into a man by the name of Amani. While initially weary, in the end they agreed to travel together. Fast companions, Mihret invited Amani back to Hamala, where once they returned Mihret sought another request of his order with his newfound self-thinking. He sought to travel with Amani, slaying monsters and beasts as their creed, whilst aiding his companion's ultimate goal. His ultimate goal? Slaying a fearsome dragon. After a few days they accepted his mission, allowing him to set out into the lands with his ally.

The two traveled together for three years, doing quite well for themselves until they reached a roadblock with a beast terrorizing the trade between villages. Despite their efforts they could not find the beast in such unfamiliar and sprawling lands, and got lost. They eventually found themselves upon Hazel's hometown and with some convincing, managed to procure their aid. The ended the beast handedly with his inclusion, and the trio has become inseparable ever since.

 

[AriAriAbabwa]

• Hazel
• Joy Jumpymuse

• 
  
  
  HAZEL
  
  #CB985B​
  
  
  
  Race: Human
  
  Class: Druid
  
  Gender: Male
  
  Age: 20 (technically a lot older)
  
  Nationality: Sotíran
  
  Bio:
  
  Spoiler: First Half (Not Necessary to Read)

  He was only four years old when his parents left him in the dense woods of the Eonach Coillte. They couldn’t afford to feed a third mouth. They never gave him a name, for they knew they would become too attached if they did. Upon waking up, he desperately cried for his mom and dad. With every step he took, the rigid ground of the woods struck at his fragile feet. He screamed until his throat grew sore. He cried until he had no more tears to spare. Besides his parents, nobody knew him. He was destined to die.
  
  He found a soft bed of foliage and passed out for the night.
  
  By next morning, he awoke on a crudely made bed to the sound of distant children’s singing. He was put in a tent, and his injuries healed. Now, only hunger rattled him out of dormancy. Confused, yet strangely warm and comforted, he stepped out of the tent in a pair of moccasins that sat before the bed. What besieged the boy was a fairytale: a lush forest, lit only by the glow of hundreds of fairies. One of them became the very first to notice Hazel: a fairy by the name of Joy Jumpymuse, what he thought was an unknown voice in his ear but flew arund him in circles.
  
  At this point, the residents of the hamlet finally noticed the newcomer. They were all children, the oldest being around 12-years-old. The younger ones ran and crowded around him, first, talking over their questions with their own words. Then came the others, all looking eager and curious about him. He took a step back, overwhelmed by their excitement. It wasn't until the leader of the group, the oldest boy named Cedar, silenced the group. He appeared with a warm smile, asking the newcomer of his name. He said he did not know. That he did not have one.
  
  "Then, Hazel," Cedar answered, almost instantaneously. "Because your eyes are Hazel."
  
  "Hazel," he echoed. For the first time in days, he smiled.
  
  They called themselves the Lost Boys, and they welcomed him with open arms, fulfilling an empty gap within Hazel: a need for love and affection. Where they were was a pocket dimension created by none other than Cedar, aptly called Neverland. Here, time slowed down to a snail's pace; it went by longer in Neverland than it did in reality. A year here could have been a decade in the real world.
  
  As the day neared an end, Cedar helped Hazel find a hut to live in, and he passed it onto Joy to help. She gave him all the comforts he could have asked for; the ones he didn't know he needed until he had them. Joy created clothing to replace his torn rags. She cleansed him of the dirt and filth in seconds. It was the first time there were people who cared about him.
  
  When Hazel begged and pleaded to learn how to master those same powers under Cedar's tutoring, Hazel was elated at how quickly he agreed. Cedar taught him everything he knows to this day. From what kind of magic he was capable of and the use of his staff. It took Hazel years upon years to master them, but it didn't matter―they had all the time in the world.
  
  Cedar, however, had plans he could not even tell Hazel or any of the Lost Boys. There came a day like any other, jovial and calm. He suddenly handed his staff to Hazel. There was a brief silence among the crowd, and everybody assumed this was a thing between master and student. Instead, they quickly learned it was a farewell gift. With only one sentence spared to Hazel, a crack in the air appeared, and Cedar jumped out of Neverland.
  
  Cedar spent the majority of his life in Neverland; a haven he created for himself to replenish everything he’d lacked for so long. After years in his self-made utopia, regret and guilt ate him inside out. He wanted it to continue on, though, so when Hazel arrived, he entrusted him to take his place. He wanted to experience the actual world again. He wanted to escape from the place he felt became his luxurious prison. He felt there was something more waiting for him. And so, after leaving it all to Hazel, he used his magic as an exit while everyone called his name.
  
  It was too late. Cedar was gone, leaving everyone with a new feeling: dread.
  
  However, Cedar’s exit did not disappear. Thus, Hazel organized the Lost Boys to form a desperate search and rescue party. None of them knew or remembered what the real world was like, but they were all willing to take the risk to bring back their dear friend. With help from the fairies, they packed their belongings from the huts, gathering together for one more time. Then, at last, all the Lost Boys ventured out of Neverland.
  
  But what was beyond the woods was astounding to them all. After so long in Neverland, they were used to the mystical properties and mythological creatures that roamed the land. The real world had become the fantasy. Carriages dashed across paved roads. Adults walked in fancy attire. Buildings scaled ten times higher than the biggest tree in Neverland, and there were so, so many people.
  
  The Lost Boys became like kids in a candy store, running around lost and towards anything that caught their eye. Hazel tried corralling together, but was met with a faint response or none at all. They each dashed in opposite directions, making it impossible for Hazel to gather them. However, it wasn’t long before he too was enthralled by the alien society. There were so many new things, it was impossible for none of them to captivate the Lost Boys.
  
  But by the end of the day, he never forgot his goal: Hazel was to find Cedar and bring him back home to Neverland. However, he was already separated from the entirety of the Lost Boys. And searching for Cedar proved to be a near impossible task. Days of searching turned to weeks. Weeks to months. Months to a year. Hazel relearned many of the things he felt centuries ago: hunger, fear, loneliness. At the same token, he met many people, learned many tricks and things.
  
  He believed the other Lost Boys had given up and returned home, but he wanted to surprise them by bringing Cedar back, too. Hazel became a vagabond, scrounging for food and making his own comfortable hideouts. He trekked to places he thought Cedar could be, but never found any sign of him.
  
  The last time he ventured back to Neverland, he had grown to be 18 years old. The Lost Boys were not there, and neither were the fairies—save for one Joy Jumpymuse. But, in contrast to the decade he’d spent, it was far more silent. He couldn’t find the same happiness there that was present back then. Cedar was right: as soon as the Lost Boys learned of the outside world, the magic of Neverland disappeared.
  
  With nothing left for them in there, Hazel and Joy left the pocket dimension for good.
  
  To people around the wood areas, Hazel was many things: a vagabond, a wanderer, a fateful guide for the lost, an enigma. With only a singular name to go by and constantly surrounded by a bright fairy, some even speculated him to be a fairy himself. Hazel had seemingly come from nowhere, and there was no denying he knew his way around the woods like the back of his hand. Some heralded him as a divine spirit in the woods, appearing to those in desperate need.
  
  It was to one pair of people, though, that truly changed Hazel's life.
  
  The duo had heard of Hazel via rumors of the nearby townsfolk, after having difficulty dealing with a monster that terrorized their lands. In fact, Hazel was just about to go deal with it when Amani and Mihret stumbled upon him. Together, they tracked down and repelled the beast in the woods, and Hazel planned to leave them as soon as possible.
  
  However... their foreign appearance piqued his interest. After some probing into their purpose, Hazel learned Amani's goal: to map the world. It was a simple one in hindsight, but something clung inside the forest-dweller. Another glimmer of hope that maybe, somewhere in the world, Cedar was still in hiding.
  
  It didn't take much convincing for Hazel to stick around them for good.
  
• 
  
  
  JOY JUMPYMUSE​
  
  
  
  Race: Fairy
  
  Class: World's Best Companion!
  
  Gender: Female
  
  Age: 217
  
  Nationality: Sotíran
  
  

 

[Jasno]

Clarissia Helwryx​

Name - Clarissia Helwryx
Race - Human
Class - Bladesinger
Gender - Female
Age - 19
Nationality - Aderian
Bio - Clarissia Helwryx was a girl who had watched her father sob. His shoulders shook and tears dropped to the ground from his cheeks. The man she hailed as a hero. The man who saved her from the monsters that came at night, apologized to her for being weak and bringing the family to ruin. The young her didn't understand the meaning behind those words at the time. It was only when her tiny world grew bigger and expanded beyond the small gardens of the manor house she lived in, that she finally understood. The Anicent and Most Noble House of Helwryx was impoverished. Tracing back to the beginning times of the Kingdom of Adereen, the Helwryx were once humble stewards that after an act of extreme loyalty, were elevated to nobility. Most looked down on these fresh and of peasant blood nobles but time would sweetly prove that either of that didn't matter. For as other Houses failed to withstand the test of time the Helwryx prevailed above them all.

However, like all ages of glory, the Helwryx's eventually came to an end. It came in the form of a conquest. The Kingdom of Hamala was like a storm and destroyed everything they touched. But there was resistance against these foreign conquerors. Among them was the proud Helwryx family. They defended their kingdom, their home with everything they had and they paid dearly for it. After Adereen had fallen to the invaders, the Helwryx's were stripped of their titles and demoted into barons. Powerless, the only thing they could do was move on.

Now seven hundred and eighty-six years later, here Clarissia Helwryx stood.

A blistering fire burned inside her. Things could not stay this way. Not at all. With an ailing father, dead mother, and absent heir for a brother, the task was up to her. To restore the Helwryx family name to glory. Just as it had been all those years ago. They wouldn't slip into obscurity and become more than a mere footnote in a history book. That wasn't a choice nor an option. She swore it upon the very blood that flowed within her veins.

Danse des Lames, or Blade Dance as it's commonly called, was an art created by Myrkálfar entertainers that held combined elements of swordsmanship and magical elements. Through hard and demanding work, It was an art that Clarissia taught herself. She had an unnatural bond with her blade, she called to it and it answered - it would never be far from her hand. It was so much more than just a weapon to her. A guardian, a defender, and her companion.

With a whispered goodbye to her sleeping father, Clarissia Helwryx disappeared into the night and began a journey that would save her House.

 

[Saturn_moon]

Kicks door open. I AM HERE.

 

[EdwardDewey98]

Kicks door open. I AM HERE.

Hell yeah! Feel free to ask question, and I shall help.

 

[Mook-LandStrider]

• Name: Pandora (of Lykos)
• Race: Human
• Class: Magus
• Gender: Female
• Age: 23
• Nationality: Lykossian
• Bio:
Presumably born in the Empire of Lykos, Pandora has little recollection of her early life. Her memory is rather hazy, the first full memory of hers being woken up by the screams of people around her fleeing the scene. The sound of those wolves seared into her memory the only indication of what saved her. In the end she realized she was almost sacrificed by a cult and the wolves disrupted it before they could kill her. Stumbling from the temple she was thrust into a society she knew nothing about but managed to land on her feet, intuition and instinct leading where memory was blank.

Over the next year she managed to reintegrate herself into the normal flow of the world, getting a position as an academic advisor to a Lykossian noble, her mind quickly sharpening up and her purse getting heavier. Proving herself as a solid minded individual she was placed into a position as direct advisor to the nobleman. The following year however was not nearly as good as the first. The nobleman she worked for fell out of favor following a dispute with a higher nobleman and she was quickly placed in a situation where she was no longer being paid.

Leaving the nobleman's house in the gutters she took the decent wealth she had gathered and settled in for several months, reading and gathering information about the world beyond the borders of the empire. Pouring over maps and text she eventually settled on a decision and packed her things in an enchanted sack before leaving Lykos behind, having no real ties binding her to the empire.

 

[SilverFlight]

• Name: Tatum-Aurani Fafner of Abertsleigh (Tate for short)
• Race: Human
• Class: Alchemist
• Gender: male
• Age: 24
• Nationality: Aelian
• Bio:
Tatum had to be told the story of his unusual enchantment, as he was far too young to remember when it was placed on him. His parents were notable alchemists from a distinguished Aelian family. What they generally didn’t tell people, was that they were also members of a secret alchemical order, The Order of the White Sun. It was a member of this order, who also studied strong magics that had come up with the spell: Whenever the boy was injured, whenever his blood was spilled, he would be transformed into a fearsome beast with near-impenetrable scales. He would change back when the blood stopped flowing. And so it was, Tatum learned to live with the enchantment, and the inevitable consequences that came with it. Tate was fairly sheltered as he grew, being schooled at home, taught alchemy by his mother, mathematics, astronomy and herbology. He was discouraged from rough activities and lead to pursue a life of science. The walls of his home couldn’t keep out everything though, and Tate grew with a love of the outside world, promising himself that one day, he would travel to its farthest reaches and record what he found.

At sixteen he was admitted to a prestigious academy and continued to master the art of alchemy. He made friends, and although he could no keep his secret from everyone, he found friends that were willing to accept his affliction. It was with their help that he finally made his big decision. On they day he was to return to his parents’ estate, he instead joined a notable alchemy guild and got a job with an adventuring company. And so, his journey began.
Tate learned a great deal adventuring for several years. By some miracle he managed to keep his enchantment a secret for three years, until one day, when he was injured saving the life of another party member. After that, the company thought it best that he no longer travel with them, so, he quietly resigned from the company, but he could not resign from adventuring.

• physical description
• skills and abilities

• 
  Tate is of small stature, standing at 5’7. His hair is red-blond, dusted with strands of brown. Round, brass-rimmed spectacles adorn his slender face at all times. He would be quite blind without them. Tate usually goes about in his alchemist guild’s official uniform, wearing simple cotton shirts and brown doeskin breeches under it. The coat is thick and warm, wine-red and has a special feature of being flame-retardant and as protective as light armour.
  
  Tate carries most things in an old, leather travel bag, but the item most precious to him is a gold pocket watch, which he keeps on a gold chain about his neck.
  
  As a dragon, Tate stands half again as tall, frame still slender, but sturdy. Great horns are planted firmly on his thick, defensive skull and frame a wild mane of blue-violet hair. His claws are sharp, his tail, powerfully destructive, yet he is not used to the strength, and can be clumsy and awkward in this form, thus, any threatening air he might have had is completely removed.
  
  Unlike a real dragon, Tate has no breath weapon, and no wings. His eyesight is just as poor as it is as a man, though his hearing and sense of smell are somewhat better. In this form, Tate is much more durable: his scales are like plate armour and fireproof, as well as resistant to most acids and topical poisons. For whatever twist of the magic, his clothes accompany him in transformation, and adorn his dragon body as a simple loin cloth and leather bracers. The watch is still hung safely about his thick, scaly neck, and his spectacles adapt to the broad bridge of his muzzle.
  
• 
  Abilities:
  
  Human form
  
  Alchemical potions
  
  Offensive
  
  Freeze formula: This potion, when broken over an enemy in combat can reduce movement speed. If the enemy is susceptible to ice, it might be able to do damage or freeze an opponent solid for a short period of time. It can also create solid platforms in water or freeze a path across rivers.
  
  Heat formula: This potion, when mixed with open air is able to heat to the point of combustion, starting fires where there is proper flammable material. When used in small doses and applied to clothing it can create a heat shield that can keep the user warm in subzero temperatures for a few hours. If cast into water, it can create a steam that can be used as an effective smokescreen, and if the vial is opened for just a few seconds and shaken, the potion will produce light for up to then hours.
  
  Soft: A dual use potion, this potion has the ability to soften armour plating, reducing defense and creating vulnerabilities in well-armoured foes. Works better against natural armours like scale, leather or bone. This potion can also be used to cure some forms of petrification.
  
  Defensive
  
  Featherweight formula: This potion can temporarily decrease the weight of objects and armour, allowing for the wearer to move and attack with more agility during battle. The weight of the item dictates the length of effectiveness. It can also be used to reduce the weight of cargo, so large objects can be moved easily. Warning: not for internal use. If swallowed, contact your nearest alchemist, and tie yourself down.
  
  Bounce formula: this formula can be applied to surfaces to create a spring back effect. It can be used on shields to increase the strength of a shield bash, and it can be applied to the soles of boots to allow for a greater jumping height. It can be applied to clothing to provide a light form of armour against blunt force attacks or falls. Does not protect against slicing or piercing attacks.
  
  Tate loves to experiment and is always coming up with new potions and elixirs to try, his repertoire is growing steadily, many of the additions of his own design.
  
  Dragon form
  
  Dragon scales: Tate’s defense is greatly increased as a dragon, he has an increased armour score and a resistance to fore damage.
  
  Dragon strength: Tate is much stronger in dragon form, able to lift four to five times what he could as a human. His tail is a lethal weapon in combat, and the bane to all things on waist-level surfaces outside of it.
  
  Dragon speed: It took a while for him to get used to it, but running on four legs allows Tate to reach speeds similar to that of a horse. His endurance allows him to run for long distances as well, and jump a good 20 feet horizontally, about 12 ft vertically.
  

 

[Immersive]

I'd play

 

[Saturn_moon]

Name: Clementine
Race: Spectre
Class: Discount Spellsword; Not that great with magic, but also not that great with swords
Gender: Female
Age: Appears 16 or 17 (Is actually around 70)
Nationality: Eranoiran

Biography:

Clementine grew up in a small coastal village within the empire of Eranoire, far away from the capital. As a child, it was discovered that she possessed some innate magical abilities. However, due to the naivety and ignorance of her parents and the lack of accessible resources around, she never had the opportunity to cultivate the skill. While seen as a little bit of an oddball because of her magic, Clementine led a relatively peaceful and unremarkable life. She was happy, content, and had parents who loved her dearly. Unfortunately, happiness did not last long for young Clementine. When she was 16, a strange plague overtook their village. No one knew where it came from. It started out with crops wilting and rotting overnight, followed by the fishes washing up dead on their shore. Freshwater sources turned toxic and then the land grew barren. It wasn't long before the plague reached the first villager.

She does not remember much while she was sick. Everything was mostly a haze. She recalls the vomiting, the painful sores, and the shivers. Her heart slowed, winding down like a music box, a season as its end. A hand slipped into hers. At last, the pain stopped and it was quiet once more.
When Clementine awoke, she found herself looking down on a pit filled with the bodies of those who had suffered the same fate as she. Except while they had remained dead, Clementine hadn't. Well, as not dead as you could count a spectre to be. She has spent the last fifty odd years trying to find the reason as to why she was cursed in such a way and the origins of the plague that overtook her home.

 

[EdwardDewey98]

I'd play

send me your character sheet in DMs if you have one, or you can just ask me any questions you might have.

 

[simj26]

it me

 

[simj26]

Name: Lucius
Race: Human
Class: Warmage
Gender: Male (?)
Age: 27
Nationality: North Brannorian
Bio:
A faceless mute vigilante from North Brannoria.

Once, he had a peaceful life, living and loving. Once, he had parents, and two older siblings whom he loved. Once, he had a village. Once, he was going to become a hunter, just like his father. Once, he was going to marry someone, come the next summer. Once, before it was all burned down in front of his eyes. He was one of the few who survived, and the only one from his family. More died in the cold, some to despair, taking their lives while the others slept. Brigands, thieves, bandits, they took more than just lives from him. Swearing fierce justice against them, once he recovered his full strength, he donned his armor, picked up his sword, and struck out alone into the world to punish wicked men. He swore a vow of silence to mourn the souls of the departed, of his loved ones.

In his overflowing pain, sadness, and hatred, he learned to wield the magic energies emanating from himself, daubing his zweihander with feral, fierce dark magicks to rend and tear his foes apart. Every scar he earns in his crusade, every wracking pain that courses through his body when he utilises his accursed magic, only serves to empower him further. His swordplay is self-taught and described as almost clumsy, but he more than makes up for it with ferocity and power.

He now lives as a masterless warrior, holding no title, no name, no voice, no face, just an overwhelming need to punish sinners, one and all. He lives off the charity of the more humble of folks, bounties, and the land itself. Though a rather unsettling sight for some, his will to protect the people is as strong as his will to put down all the blackguards in the world.

 

[123]

This is something I’d be interested in. Is it still open?

 

[EdwardDewey98]

This is something I’d be interested in. Is it still open?

Thank you so much for showing interest! But sadly, the last spot was taken. Again, thank you very much for your interest and if we ever lose a player I'll contact you first!

 

[VolcanicAccelerator]

Wow this is popular, I just counted like 8 different character submissions in the last few weeks alone. Well if anything ever opens up lemme know,been meaning to play a mercenary ogre