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Fantasy The Truth About Heroes -Characters

Toivoajarakkaus

Toivoajarakkaus

* Toi-Voie-Jar-A-Kker-Ar-Us (They/Them)
Roleplay Availability
Roleplay Type(s)

  • This is a basic sheet, but feel free to add anything you'd like to flesh out the character.

    Name:
    Age:
    Pronouns:
    Sexuality:
    Romanceable: (This just lets others know that later on, your character is available. If your character is under the age of 21, they are not romanceable. That doesn't prevent them from befriending other characters.)
    Class: (Classes, using DnD terms, is the style of how your character fights or interacts with the world.)
    Background: (Before the time the roleplay takes place, what was your character's career.)
    Race: (If an original creation, please describe in detail.)
    Powers: ( Powers given by your class are different than your race traits, so please separate them.)
    Appearance: (Photo/Paragraph. Include clothing choices, body mods, or if using a picture, anything not shown or different than what's in in the photo.)
    Equipment: (Weapons, Trinkets, etc.)
    Personality:
    History: (Be as detailed or as vague as you want, but if there is anything you mention here you want to appear in the roleplay, DM me.)




​
 
(WIP)

Name: Shinro Suke
Age: 16
Pronouns: He/him
sexuality: straight
Romanceable: No
Class: fighter
Background: Shinro finished his 3rd year of high school, He lives with his mother and step-father. Shinro is learning under the apprenticeship of a blacksmith so he can refine is blacksmithing skills. He is a skilled fighter, his mentor Kai Sonrow taught him everything he needed to know . Shinro travels a lot to learn more to blacksmithing.
race: Demigod
Powers: able to use a flame that is cold as ice but burns hot as hell. when he burns something with his flame he is able to use that item anytime (kinda like summons things). When he loses control of his powers he turn into his demons form (He is able to control it with enough training). Able to control any flame in sight.
Appearance: 5'9, he has hair that's down to his shoulders and his sides are shaved, color hair is brown, has blue eyes, semi-muscular. wears a gray tunic with a black cloak, he wears black fighting trouser and black boots
Equipment: carries a zanpakuto (An enchanted sword with powers as strong as shinro, named Azar) on his left side, has his right hand is covered in a fire proof cloth.
History: When Shinro was young he didn't know he was half demon nor did his family. When he got older he realized that he wasn't necessary normal. When he was 15 he was training with his mentor and his body caught on fire, he thought he was going to die of some curse. after the flame died out Kai pulled an ancient scroll with a Prophecy of a child born with the blood satan will be born with the powers unlike any other Demigod in the world. a year later learning to control his powers , when he turned 16 training with his mentor Kai his right arm lite on fire but it was not like when he first caught on fire, This was more controlled and something was forming. A sword was being made out of the flame on his arm, A Zanpakuto formed an old type of sword with powers just like his. When he looked at the sword it spoke it's name in his head (Azar), Sword of fire.
 
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Name: Qhelleas
Nickname: Leas, Q
Age: 28
Pronouns: He/Him
Sexuality: Bisexual
Romanceable: Yes
Class: Ranger
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Background:
Qhelleas is an Aaracokra who fell from the sky as a young birdling. He scarred his wings with it and now can only fly for a hour max. This greatly changes the way how Aaracokra's usually live. He was found by an old mage who happened to be very interested in the bird race. Qhelleas was kinda raised by him but they never had a father/son relationship. For that the two were too different. Qhelleas always longed back to the air, hearing the sky calling him. He left his home when he came of age to search for other Aaracokra's, he wanted to learn about his people and its culture and habits. He worked as a scout in local forests and traveled further when needed. (In case of meeting other Aaracokra, or when he is not needed anymore in the previous area). He volunteered in hope to find new information about his race and maybe to even find a cure for his wings so he can soar in the sky once again.

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Race: Aaracokra 1601936967797.png
Powers:
Race traits:
- Can fly (For an hour).
- Can talk with birds.

Class Powers:
- Very high dexterity
- Knows alot about nature and the food it provides (Knowledge about poisonous plants and healing plants)
- Has a soothing aura for animals, can easily calm them.
- Very good tracker
- Good with a bow.


Equipment:
- A long bow
- 20 arrows (Most of the time he picks them up or when he can't he buys them)
- Patch of herbs to heal small wounds with.
- A flute (to lure animals, scare them)
- A small dagger

Personality:
Leas is a very open minded being, despite his kin usually being not. This does not mean he tolerates company as much, he just isn't as opposed to it as his race usually is. He often retreats into the woods or high mountains to practice his ranger skills or to be with the animals. He knows the common tongue and some other languages as well, but he prefers to not say anything at all. Leas is a quiet and peaceful Aaracokra who will help people in need. Although his heart is good, he doesn't really stand for good or evil, not believing in such a black/white thing. Next to liking solitude he is also very curious and mainly about his people, he will always choose a Naturekin above other races.
 
[WIP]



  • Name: Adiv Isian

    Age: 25

    Pronouns: He/Him

    Sexuality: Pansexual

    Romanceable: Yes

    Class: Fighter

    Background: The newly crowned prince of the Isian Empire, leader of the rebellion against his father.

    Race: Human

    Appearance: Despite his stoic looks (a face structure he gained from his father), his more playful nature can be seen through a ball piercing on his tongue, and wrapping vine tattoos around his wrists. His soft, sun-bleached hair had been cut close to the scalp, but has been allowed to grow out and swept back into clean waves. He has a massive scar across his chest from a near-death injury during the brawl that allowed him to take the throne, along with small little knicks here and there from his time among the streets. Adiv is someone best known as a "person looks better rough than clean", the sharpness to his pale skin softening beneath earth to match his true personality. Not to mention that the dirt brings clarity to time he spent building up the muscle to carry the weight of his convictions upon his shoulders. Though sadly, sometimes his power is overlooked due to his height being only 4'8, though I wouldn't mention it unless you wanted a very frustrated bone-crushing hug.

    Equipment:
    - The rough sapphire gem that once sat upon his father's sword.
    - A small dagger gifted to him by Fine Edge.
    - His own sword, crafted by his own hands with the help of a dwarven smith.
    - Adiv's shield happens to handmade as well. But now as the crowned prince, he's had a carving that is generally representative of the first hero (Two roses intertwined in the shape of a heart) carved upon it.

    Personality: Years among the slyest of the street have given Adiv a very relaxed attitude and, at the surface, one might mistake that he doesn't care about anything. A grave misjudgment. Adiv stakes his life in his virtues, and let it not be said any other way. The young prince isn't someone to just half-heartedly do something, his words mean something, his affection means something, his passion means something. He's a man who would give away his heart piece by piece, even if it left him with nothing, if it meant making a difference in someone's life. This desire to help others often comes at the price of his own health, the scars he bears a testament to how far he will go. Adiv hides his fatigue behind a painted smile, his pain with a grin, and his sadness with laughter. As playful as he acts, he feels far older than he is.

    History: Adiv's life has always been a mixture of joy and tragedy. The Queen, his mother, had died bringing the prince into the world. And the world deposited into the hands of his father. King Loid Isain. Neither noble nor servant could tell if King Loid was a naturally occurring evil or had the loss of his wife twisted his love into hate. Adiv only knew him as a man who stifled him and yet expected him to thrive. Soon, it became too unbearable for such a young mind to hold so much responsibility and yet no control at all. So the boy snuck away under the cover of night, into the hands of a sympathic Taxabi named Fine Edge.

 
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Name: Ceira
Age: 22
Pronouns: She/Her
Sexuality: Heterosexual
Romanceable: Yes
Race: Aasimar
Class: Cleric

Powers:
Race Traits:
  • Light Bearer
  • Darkvision
  • Necrotic and Radiant damage Resistance
Class Powers:
  • Powerful healing aura
  • Ability to cast divine spells
  • Affinity/domain for Protection and Healing
Equipment: All of Ceira’s equipment is old and worn.
  • Large Warhammer
  • Small Seax
  • Waist pouch
Appearance: At first glance, Ceira is a seemingly quiet woman with a tendency to hide herself within her oversized, patchy grey cloak when off the clock. Beneath the cloak, Ceira wears a white blouse and light brown pants. At her job at the docks, Ceira can be seen replacing her grey cloak for a thick apron.

Ceira is tall and lean, with wiry muscles gained from previously living on the streets for years. On the rare occasion where Ceira has her cloak’s hood down, long, dark chestnut hair frames a tanned, copper face. However, her most startling features are the pale, pupiless silver‑white eyes that adorn her face. Similarly coloured small silver feathers can be seen sprouting from Ceira’s shoulders. Below these feathers, long jagged scars mark a large portion of her back. These scars look like they had been made by a heavy whip, and have healed poorly over time.

Background: Fishmonger at the docks. This is not a career, but rather a means of survival for Ceira. This job gives her the ability to put a roof over her head and food in her belly, excepting the times when she goes hungry in order to afford medicines or bandages for the less fortunate streets kids that come to her for aid.

Personality: To most strangers, Ceira is noted to be polite, yet cold and distant. After constant harassment from sailors and the other local fishmongers, Ceira realised that she would need to be blunt to gain any respect, or at the very least become tough and resilient to survive. As someone who prefers actions over words, a sharp seax was known to keep straying, groping hands away from her. To the younger street kids that know her well, Ceira is known to be warm, caring and selfless.

History: Ceira cannot remember much of her early years, nor can she remember ever having a typical family. Her earliest memories involve the nuns at her old orphanage telling her that she was unnatural and that her birth parents wanted nothing to do with a “devil-spawn”. During her time at the orphanage, she was treated poorly. At first, it was only her eyes that unsettled others and gave any hint to her being anything other than human; however, as she became an adolescent, Ceira noticed the silver feathery tips starting to crest her shoulders. Refusing the give the nuns another reason to hate and abuse her, she ran away.

Life on the streets was not much better than the orphanage, but it was on her terms and that was all that mattered to Ceira. Over time, she banded together with other street kids to survive. As one of the taller kids, Ceira often found herself protecting the younger children from rival street gangs or angered townspeople. Ceira embraced this protective role wholeheartedly and also tried to procure food, medicine and other essential supplies for the less capable street children.

This culminated one day when Ceira took the blame and subsequent punishment for one of the younger kids under her care. The merchant who caught the younger kid stealing some freshly baked goods was known to favour a thick whip with a heavy hand, and Ceira was sure the kid would not survive the fifteen lashes the angered merchant was aching to deliver. Frankly, the only reason Ceira survived the whipping herself was due to the help of the other kids, and the development of an uncanny ability of hers to heal quickly.

At the age of 18, Ceira lied her way into a job at the fishmarkets on the docks. De-scaling, gutting and filleting fish was how she made a living, and soon Ceira moved off the streets and into a small attic room above one of the local brothels. Still living up to her reputation, the street kids brought their injured to her and Ceira was able to care for their wounds. At both work and at home, Ceira constantly saw the injustice that plagued the less fortunate, and longed for change.
 
L Y S

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Name​
Lys of Margay.
'Lys' is pronounced: "L-ee-s". It also seems to be the shortened version of a longer name too, but apparently the whole thing's far too much of a mouthful, and 'Lys' suits them much better.

Age​
She's coming up 25 in a few weeks now, but truth be told, you'd never really know from looking at them. For poor old Lys suffers from a terrible outbreak of 'Baby-Face'.

Pronouns​
They/Them + She/Her
For the longest time, Lys was told they were something completely other-worldly and obscure, a being not of this earth at all. So it seemed odd for her to be using all Female pronouns if she indeed was something un-human altogether. Therefore, they don't mind being with she/her, or they/them.

Sexuality​
Pansexual

Romanceable?​
Yes

Race​
Aasimar

Class​
Paladin

Powers​
- Healing Hands: Due to her neglect at rearing and honing this skill during her years spent training at the Sanctuary, Lys' proficiency in this skill is not as strong as is should be for an Aasimar. However, that does not mean it is altogether pointless. An injured party that remains within her company close and long enough will not be able to feel the pain of their wounds, all felt hurt will being considerably softened. The womb itself however, will not heal from her presence alone. Lys has basic level knowledge of some simple healing magic, but otherwise she relies on earthy remedies and concoctions to help with injury.
- DarkVision: Similar to... well, a cat I suppose, Lys is able to see in the Dark. Nothing appears in colour, but she can see as well and as easily in dark as she can in the day. Additionally, although not a particularly powerful light, in darkness Lys appears to glow somewhat. A dim and soft light emits from her, but it is a light all the same, and useful for exploration of dark places, but not so useful for anything remotely stealthy. But then again, I guess Angelic beings aren't really supposed to be sneaking around in the dead of night getting up to mischief.

Abilities​
- Divine Sense: Both in part an ability gained from her Aasimar heritage, as well as her training as a Paladin, Lys is capable of detecting any particular evil or malicious presences as well as places and items that have been consecrated or desecrated within their extended radius. She personally describes the ability akin to: "Being able to smell someone's wet socks from up to ten miles away." But I suppose, 'Divine Sense' sounds a lot more exciting than that...
- Aura of Protection: A useful, but draining ability. When fighting with a group, Lys can extend a protective aura around as many people as she can manage. The more people she tries to protect however, the weaker said protection becomes. Although she has never reached such a point yet, Lys knows full well that overuse of this ability could do more harm than good.
- Emotional Awareness: Aasimar's can all supposedly sense immediate danger and corruption, and this much is true with Lys, but in addition to this, it seems Lys is also capable of sensing a persons inner pains, so to speak. Call it divine premonition, or mere madness, either way her assumptions of a persons inner thoughts and feelings hit their mark more than they miss it.

Appearance​
​
37c0122c233b6850ea69c93d304afb2a.jpg
​
Lys is about average height, standing at about 5'4 on her tip toes, and her build is relatively sturdy. Her skin is on the pinker side of pale (She burns very easily), and she remains completely free of blemishes and marks, as a celestial descendant should I guess. Her hair, although a stark blonde, is just that, blonde and not white. As for features go, as previously mentioned, she's got a perpetually young looking face, which again makes some sense considering an Aasimar's potential age range. Otherwise though, it's a face that's somewhat boyish in appearance. But it's the eyes that attract the most attention upon a first meeting. A seemingly common trait among Aasimar's is their disconcerting gaze. Hard to describe directly in appearance, but easy to recall in feeling, a Aasimar's stare seems to separate people into one of two groups. The first and smaller collection find the stare indifferent, sometimes even comforting, but the other larger majority struggle to hold an Aasimar's gaze. They feel put off and uneasy if looked upon for too long.

Interestingly with Lys, Both iris' were a pale green-ish colour for the majority of her life, however after the 'incident', her left iris now appears to be a sharp rather bright blue in colour. In addition and similarity to her newfound heterochromia, both Celestial and Necrotic symbols and runes have begun to appear across the body, most prominently on her arms. Far too connected to real life events to be a mere coincidence, Lys is convinced these changes in appearance are a direct message from the heavens to serve as a permanent reminder of what she has done in life so far.

Equipment​
- Hodge-Podge-Armour: Upon leaving the Sanctuary, Lys was gifted a suit of finely fitted and tailored Armour of a high quality. But over the years and deeds committed since, it has fallen into relative disrepair. With some areas now slightly rusted, other parts hastily repaired and upgraded with unmatching oversized leftovers, and a few smaller bits just missing altogether, her current suit is now rather oversized and, well, lets be kind and say 'unbalanced'. I suppose it serves its purpose, but just barely.
- The Basics: All the things simple boring bits and pieces a wandering traveller would need. A hunting knife, water pouch, a whetstone, piece of flint, an extra pair of socks and gloves, etc.
- "Tarnish": The name she gave to her sword, as she was told all good weapons should have one. It's a simple but sturdy thing, and one of the few possessions she owns not gifted to her from the Sanctuary. It bears a family crest that is not her own.
- Buckler Shield: Smaller than most other types, and with a slight protruding dome on its front. The Buckler shield favours itself particularly to Lys, as it is more of a companion weapon in hand-to-hand combat as well as a compact means of protection.

Personality​
Lys is certainly a... 'unique' being, I can say that much. At first appearance, she's a polite and kind enough girl. But look deeper and you'll find her mannerisms and nature seemingly work on a precisely balanced scale of morality. Do her a kindness and she will repay the turn in equal measure. Lie or trick her though, and be prepared for a reproof just as bad as the one initially provided. She can be charming sometimes, but she has to concentrate very hard to do so. Lys is a sharp one, but only when she wants to be.

Otherwise, their somewhat closeted upbringing within the Sanctuary shows in their nature and mannerisms. At times she can make situations unintentionally awkward, be it through her lack of knowledge of certain social interactions, or through her random outbursts of apparent divine intent. It seems Lys just doesn't quite understand that, say, revealing to the whole town during a crowded council meeting that the local butcher is feeling sad because his beloved pet chicken 'Cluckers' died, may not exactly be the best thing to do while everyone else is busy discussing Tax Laws. All in all, Lys ultimately means well enough, I think...

Background​
It was never really in the grand scheme of things for Lys to turn out to be an Aasimar. It certainly wasn't in her parents plans anyway. And yet, surprise! Along she came anyway. Her parents were not fantastically rich, but they were neither worryingly poor, instead they remained seated in the comfortable in-between demographic native to the Folk-Of-Trade's region. They were human merchants who knew little of what it truly meant to be an Aasimar, but were not willing to give up the opportunity to cash in on such a chance nonetheless. Everything about Lys' life was treated as a divine intervention or an act of the Gods, from the moment of her birth, to her first tooth falling out. She was forever told and reminded of what a blessing her life was, and was going to be. Day in day out, holy this and holy that, etc.

At about four or five years old Lys, along with six other young Aasimar's lucky enough to be from relatively good parentage, were sent to a small secluded Sanctuary, hidden within the pale snowy Mountains that dictated the border between the land of the Trading Folk, and the realms of the Divine-Touched. The rest of the world is often told that while staying at the Sanctuary, the children are taught of their Divine heritage, knowledge and powers. They receive regular training and teachings, and always kept under a keen and watchful eye. But Lys recounts a place far different from what is otherwise widely spoken of. It is not a period of her life she speaks of often, and with little to no fondness. Life there was strict, to say the least. Constant prayer and adoration, forever admitting to a higher power that will always remain higher than ones self. It certainly puts a dent in a persons self-confidence and belief, that can be certain. In addition, things can happen behind closed doors that otherwise cannot occur unnoticed out in the open. There was never any direct mistreatment given from her Guardians, however the other children she lived and grew up with, they are a completely different matter.
There's an old rhyme about the Sanctuary, told to small overly-curious children who live nearby,

A Remote place to stay,
Seven Children kept away.

In the Garden and the Yard,
There they lived, Unscarred.

Caspia, Lys, Aster,
Bruyere, Iris, Primerose...
And Auguste.

A Remote Place to stay,
Seven Children led astray.​

There were more verses once. But they've seemingly been forgotten now. Perhaps purposefully so.

Throughout her whole life, Lys believed she heard the voices of the Heavens within her mind. They told her what to do, how they should act, what was expected of her, and most of all, they seemed to constantly scold. Similar to the voices heard within the real world, they would remind her that a lot was expected of her. Most people saw her to be a literal representation of the very Heavens above, such a premise carries with it a heavy, heavy burden. And yet, she listened all the same, and tried her upmost best to uphold what was expected of her. But there was one day, where I suppose her best wasn't quite enough.

She might tell you what happened exactly on that day, if you asked her to. But otherwise, it is not a memory she looks back on keenly. Even though, it was seemingly grand enough to ruin her reputation and expectations completely. These days, she can still hear voices within her head. But now, they are garbled, confused and indirect. As time goes on, Lys wonders if they were ever truly Heavens commands at all. Perhaps it was simply herself, her own voice muttering loose and wild imaginings. She spends her days now somewhat aimlessly, simply roaming the country in search of some sort of purpose or promise once again. Sometimes, she tries to help people, act once again like the angelic being she was supposed to be. Other times though, she seeks to help nobody but herself. For what else can an Angelic being really do once it no longer serves Heaven?
 
1602218580879.png

Name: Delvin Vaz

Age: 22

Pronouns: Him/He

Sexuality: Bisexual

Romanceable: Yes

Class: Rogue

Background:

Delvin, with lack of the better term, is a travelling homeless man, going between cities to find quick work or someone as supper.

His work could be anything like cooking for a restaurant or cleaning the toilets, to assassination jobs or even kidnapping. Any jobs that gives him the right pay he takes

He only last within a city for a month, taking all he needed from a city then immediately leaving to the next one.


Race: Human

Powers and Abilities:
-Cunning Action(Move and Act quickly)
-Evasion(Able to dodge easily)
-Swift Hands(Able to easily steal and pickpocket someone with little detection)
-Flaming Sphere(mainly for cooking)

Appearance:

Delvin has clean blonde hair, standing 6'1 tall. He has pale skin and is fairly muscular but mostly lean. His face is soft and accompanied with pretty blue eyes, he could be considered as a pretty boy.

To most people, he is seen as very attractive, with a pretty boy face and lean body. Despite mostly living in the streets, he's always clean and tidy, making sure to have a good appearance to make good first impressions for people and to make good bait for his preys.

He wears a long black coat that goes all the way to his legs, and under that coat is a pristine white vest with gold outlines and brown pants. His clothes are always in pristine condition, contributing to his pretty appearance.

On his left arm is a long sleeve glove to hide a growing...infection. He doesn't know what is but ever since he started his cannibalism, his left arm had become grey and wrinkly, his nail long and sharp. The only time he unveils his left arm is when consuming a person alone.


Equipment:

-Kitchen Knife
-Various seasonings and spices
-Dagger
-Throwing knives
-Canteen full of water
-Bandages
-Small pan

Personality:

Delvin loves himself too much for his own good. He thinks his ideology of a "Dog eat Dog world" both figuratively and literally is absolute and those who's think differently is an idiot.

He always has a cool and collective attitude, rarely any words or insults can get under his skin. He always try to be welcoming to anyone he meets and interact with, especially those he considers good meat, but sometimes he makes use of his sharp tongue to those he believed it deserves. He doesn't consider it as a mean act, just a wake up call to those he believe blinded by fantasy.

The only times he acts more hastily and mean is when he's in the kitchen, adopting the rude mannerism of his uncle. When he cooks, he wants everything to be perfect, especially when cooking with more intelligent ingredients. Anyone makes a wrong step and their out of the kitchen.

Ever since he had eaten his first prey, they way he sees other people has been different.

It's hard to live among people if he all he ever thinks about is eating them. He only consumes once per month, just enough to feed his appetite and little as to avoid detection and leaving behind a trail of dead bodies.

He only consumes those he deem clean and healthy. If he starts eyeing someone, talking to them and even smelling them, he had picked his prey.

History:

Delvin used to live with his uncle, who was respected chef within its little town.

His parents had vanished from his life ever since he was born, his uncle was the only family member he knew.
The little town they resided was ran by a corrupted system, where the rich gets richer and common folks like him only suffer. It was the life Delvin accepted, but his uncle didn't. His uncle tried to help the rebels that was attempting to overthrow the people in power, even holding secret meetings within their restaurant. Delvin hated his uncle for that, especially since they were under debt and his uncle supporting the rebels wasn't helping their situation. On the age of 17, Delvin finally snapped. They were barely gaining any food and debts were just getting higher. He was not going to die for his uncle. Delvin snitched at his uncle and every rebel that had visited the restaurant. Every last one was immediately imprisoned and executed. As thanks, Delvin was allowed to reside in one of the noble's home and was given all the privilege he ever needed. That was when he realised that this world would not be forgiving to those who stand idle by or those who follows their false sense of "Justice." The only way to make it in this world was to play dirty, and screw the others over before they screw you.

He decided to leave the comfort of the home of the riches, he wanted to see the world as it was actually is. It was a dumb risk to take but it was something he felt he needed to do.

At first it didn't went well, the only skill he had was his cooking skill but no one took him in. He mostly slept on the streets with barely any food. Any food had a bad after taste because it reminded him of his uncle. Things went bad to worst when he took a simple expedition job to take a package to a snowy village. Should have been job simple right?

They ran out of food, him and his expedition buddies were starving. He was new, he felt like crap, and yet his expedition buddies seemed oddly content...then he realised it was because he was the food. Everything happened so fast, there was a knife to his throat and his thigh was bleeding. The struggle went on until he final took them all out by chance...

He tried to last as much as he could, but he was starving...and the meat of his fallen attackers was starting to rot. Good meat shouldn't be wasted.

At first, it was horrendous, unable to stomach a single piece. But then he started experimenting, started cooking them like proper ingredients for a meal. When he transformed and ate a human leg cooked like a roasted pork, his new lust for food was ignited.

It gave him the motivation to keep him travelling in his journey, to prevail against every challenge he took. Each city he travelled was a new challenge to face and learn from, and each was a new meat to experiment and cook with, despite the consequences of his left arm becoming ghoulish in nature. He was content with that, it was symbol of his strength. He became a simple wonderer of the world, a realist cannibal who would never let the world beat him.



Humans. Best cooked with great heat, ripen the skin...

Aaismar. Similar to humans, best cooked with great heat. Skin is less tasteful but the meat has a more enlightening aura...

Orc. Meat is more fatter, best eaten with sides of rice and seasoned...

Dragonborn. Prefers them skinned first, little edible meat. Better eaten with sauce and bread...
 
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