Fantasy Treblian CS

[Proletariat]

This is where you post your CS, use the following template.

Name:

Race:

Age:

Appearance (Height, weight, details, photo):

Personality:

Occupation:

Country of Origin:

Assets and Equipment:

Skills (Life skills and combat skills, younger characters have less, older characters have more):

Magic User Type (Only applies to magic users, Sorcerer, Warlock, Wizard, Cleric or Bard):

Known Spells (Only applies to magic users, refer to magic section in lore page to find out how many spells you can have):

Bio:

 

[FireMaiden]

Name:
Primrose Levillia
Race:
Northern Elf
Age:
22
Appearance: A little elf woman standing at 5'2", weighing roughly 120 pounds, she's not a very intemidating person. Her long white hair, green eyes, and fair skin give her a rather soft and sweet aura. Her markings, which symbolize her being a Sorceress, are a soft golden color. Now even a woman like Primrose is not without her scars. On both of her shoulder blades are three, four inch scars, all made from samr blade, but each of a different depth, or jagged line. Her ears also have scars, right where a humans would start to curve, are small divets.

Spoiler: Markings

Personality: Primrose is an optimistic young woman would like to believe that there's good in everyone. She's a little naive, and perhaps a bit to trusting. Always with a sweet smile, and warm laugh, no matter who she's interacting with, she's a woman with values beyond her time. Primrose hardly ever gets angry, and she does her best not to hold a grudge. Some people walk all over her because of the way she is, and hasn't really seemed to learn her lesson.
Occupation:
Adventurer/Alchemist
Country of Origin:
Elven Territories - Ilkstropos
Assets and Equipment:
- Mages Garb: A simple outfit seen in the picture provided. A colorful off the shoulder tunic with large hidden pockets, paired with a lightweight leather vest of sorts. She wears these with brown skin tight pants, soft leather boots, and fingerless gloves. Occoasianlly, She wears a hooded cloak, to help hid her ears when passing through rather hostile environments.
- Elven Staff: A staff made of ironbark and steel, obviously of Elven origin.

- Silver Dagger: A simple silver dagger for when close combat is nesecary. But mainly, she uses it for cutting ingredients and other things if the same sort.
- Shappire Necklace: A gift from her parents. Its very special.
- Hair ties and brush: She needs something too keep her hair in check.
- Small Alchemy Kit: A mortar and pestle, a small set of collapsible scales, and a tiny pair of scissors.
- Camping Supplies: A bedroll, and a small tent, big enough for one person. All neatly packed away in her rucksack.
- Food: Some bread, dried venison, an apple or two, some nuts, and a water skin that's nearly full.
- Book: This is a small book of recipes for the potions and salves she can make.
Skills:
- Gardening; Back home, She would help her grandmother grow ingredients and take care of the decorative plants around her house, so Primrose has picked up a few things.
- Alchemy; Making money while travelling can be a bit hard for someone like Primrose. She doesn't take on mercenary contracts, and rarely does she actually take any other contracts. So, She brews and sells potions and balms, and 9 times out of 10, they're successful.
- First Aid: She's a woman experienced with first aid and can do anything from fixing a dislocated shoulder, to just patching up a cut.
- Cooking: You have to know how to cook so you know, you don't starve.
- Ranged Combat: Most of her spells are long ranged, so she's more comfortable with keeping her enemies at a distance.
- Adept Blades: She knows how to use a dagger, and maybe a short sword, but she will easily be bested by people who actually know what they're doing.
- Bo Skills: Skilled with using a staff for both defense and offense.
- Bilingual: She can speak both Elvish and English.
Magic User Type:
Sorcerer
Known Spells:
Burning Hands - As Primrose holds her hands with thumbs touching and fingers spread, a thin sheet of flames shoots forth from her outstretched fingertips, creating a 15-foot cone if flames. She is also able to shoot flames from each hand one at a time in a 7.5 foot cone, or, keep the flames on her hands for close combat. The fire ignites any flammable objects in the area that aren't being worn or carried. Mana usage is light, leaving Primrose able to use this and other spells easily while applying this one frequently.

Fire Wall - Primrose creates a wall of fire on a solid surface within 15 feet of herself. She can make the wall up to 60 feet long, 20 feet high, and 1 foot thick, or a ringed wall up to 20 feet in diameter, 20 feet high, and 1 foot thick. The wall is opaque and lasts for the duration of 30 seconds to a minute if she leaves the wall behind, and 2 to three minutes if she chooses to sustain it. When the wall appears, there's first a blast of intense heat before the blaze of flames erupted form the ground. The side facing enemies will start to harm anyone who draws to near, but will not hurt those Primrose has deemed an ally. Mana use is moderate, sometimes near extreme depending on how she uses this abbilty. Mostly for crowd control, detaining, or for getaways.

Earth Tremor - Primrose cause a tremor in the ground within a 10ft radius. Anyone other than Primrose in the 10ft radius are effected by the shaking and possible breaking of their solid ground. When the ground in that area is loose earth or stone, there's an added chance of bludgeoning and extra injury. Mana usage is moderate, leaving Primrose to normally use this spell as crowd control and for bigger enemies.

Frostbite - Primrose can cause numbing frost to form on one person or creature that she sees within a range of 40ft, or she can focus the spell in her hands and maintain it to use in close combat or as torture if she ever needed to. Mana usage is light to moderate depending on how she uses it, the more moderate usage being when she focuses the spell.

Chain Lighting - By far her strongest spell as of yet, Primrose creates a bolt of lightning that arcs toward a target of her choice that you can see within a range of 115ft. Three bolts then leap from that target to as many as three other targets, each of which must be within 30 feet of the first target. A target can be a creature or an object and can be targeted by only one of the bolts. Mana usage is extreme, so this is not a spell you see Primrose using often.

Spoiler: Bio

Primrose was born in a very small village in the Southern part of Ilkstropos, a safe distance from borders. She has two older brothers, who were twins, her mother was a healer, a cleric, who was helped by her grandmother, an alchemist. Her father was a ranger, employed at the outpost nearly a day and half west of where they lived. None of them were like her. A sorcerer. The marks she was born with were a dead giveaway, but the last person in their family to have magical abbilites like the was born more than five generations ago. Everyone thought that they bloodline had run dry, or the magic had run out, but then in came this little gloworm.

For a while, she knew nothing, nothing of what these strange markings meant or why she had them. And wouldn't learn the truth until one day she accidentally set a tree on fire at the age of five. After the panic has passed, her mother and grandmother both sat her down to have a talk. Traced back hundreds of years, to one person in their families history, her name lost in time. She was a mighty warrior, gifted with powerful magic and upon her deathbed, that woman made sure that it would be passed on. But, Primrose was the first in many, many years to be born with it. The entire tale was awe inspiring, and Primrose was proud to know what her past held, and her future promised. Her brothers were another story.

They too, heard the tale, and grew jealous. They alienated her, refusing to have anything to do with their sister. But that didn't stop them from tormenting her when they had the chance. Because even from a young age, she was a sweet, naive child. Which would end up getting her hurt. For about four years, there only seemed to be one spell, which was not as promising as Primrose hoped, but her mother would reassure the little one. Things like this would take time, it was okay that she wasn't immdeiatly a powerful mage. It helped, but ideally Primrose would be strong immdeiatly. Then her brothers wouldn't pick on her.

Speaking of which, one incident, when she was 9, turned things for both the better and the worse. Her father could not often come and visit, but after some convincing, the family was allowed to come and visit him for his birthday as long as the celebration was not to long. The family, still a good safe distance from the river border, yet still in sight of the outpost, they enjoyed a small picnic so that everyone could spend time with each other. However, as the parents were packing up, her brothers grabbed Primrose's doll, and ran to the river. They threw it in once she caught up to them, and without thinking, she went down to the bank to retrieve it. But she slipped, maybe, she was pushed, and she fell in. Almost instantly, she was swept down stream. When she was pulled put, along with her doll, and began coughing and thanking whoever had pulled her out, expecting it to an elf. But she was wrong, and immdeiatly found herself in an extremely deadly situation.

Surrounding her were seven men, human men. She started to hyperventilate as she watched them, speaking absolute gibberish. But it was obvious that these men did not have good intentions. One man spoke up, holding her doll. He pointed to her, then the doll, and than back to Primrose as if he was trying to convince the others of something. He then asked her something, something that she couldn't understand. So she shook her head. He asked her the same thing, again she shook her head. Looking back at the others he said something, before a louder man with hateful blue eyes, obviously the ring leader, said something in response, something the other men agreed with. Most of them anyway, the one holding her doll just looked angry. The next thing she knew two men took ahold of her arm, while another ripped the back of her shirt. The ring leader took hold of her chin, and made her look into his eyes, before he said something she did understand, because he said it in Elvish. "þetta er lexía sem þú munt aldrei gleyma."

One by one, each of the six men participating in whatever he was trying to teach her carved a line into her back, each time she wailed in agony as the blade was excruciatingly more painful than it should have. When she was dropped, she landed on her side, quickly covering her head and face as someone sent five heavy kicks to her abdomen and ribcage, and one to her face as her arms moved when her ribs cracked. They gave her a few minutes, perhaps to make sure she wasn't going to pass out. But soon after, they sat her upright, and two men, one on eitherside of her, took daggers to her ears. Thats when her markings began to glow a bright blue, her eyes glazed over as the ground beneath them began to shake violently. The men lost their footing, and being somewhat intelligent, they retreated leaving an unconscious child behind them. When they returned to collect their prize, she was gone.

Unfortunately, everything happen to fast for anyone to stop her or the boys, and when they spotted her, her father and two other rangers could do nothing but watch as she was tortured. When she unintentionally cast that spell, it was the perfect opening. The men who pulled her out were from a nearby outpost, and were only out there checking for who knows what. But it still would have been risky to kill them. Her father, upon learning why what happened did, nearly beat her brothers senseless. When they all returned to their home, Primrose fell ill due to a slow acting poison. It took weeks for her to fully recover, and even longer to get over the nightmares and panic attacks the incident caused for her to sleep. One of her brothers, the one who only went along with his twins plan because he had no choice, was devastated by what happened, and started doing his best to make amends. While his twin only grew darker. Because, he knew what he was doing.

Years passed, at the age of 14, she began taking up a few different hobbies. Gardening and alchemy with her grandmother, as well as cooking with her mother. Her brothers went off to go train with her father and uncles to become rangers. And because of her mother, she learned how to fix a multitude of different wounds. She was once sent to the outpost with her mother to help heal injured scouts and hunters after a tangle with a rather large beast. While there, she asked a few of the elves speaking what she called, Human, to teach her some. Turns out they were learning as well, and for the few weeks she was there, they shared their books and scrolls, helping her learn along with them. Upon returning home, she had brought some with her, and continued studying on her own. She only became fluent when she was 18.

On her 19th birthday, she was gifted two heirlooms. A dagger, and a necklace. And then she announced she wanted to see the world. Her parents were shocked, her brothers laughed, but her grandmother hit them all and told them to listen. Primrose explained that she had only ever heard stories about the other lands, and she wanted to see it for herself. And reluctantly, her parents gave info her sense for adventure. It took a few months, but once she was ready, She made her way to the safest border there was. Velstrom.

The dwarves she met were Merchants, and two warriors who were traveling to one of the holds, invited the curious young elf woman to come along with then in exchange for alchemic skills. She accepted, and for nearly a year and a half she travelled with them, brewing potions and other remedies for personal use and sale. And it was because of them she experienced the Dwarven holds and a bit of the orc kingdoms. Learning the common tounge was a god send as not many people knew elvish, but that was fine. She enjoyed every bit of her travels through those lands, both the Orc's and the dwarves she met were very friendly. That whole innocent ray of sunshine thing she has going on was really working for her, as she hardly met anyone who was outright against her being there. The Orcs she had befriended were kind enough to escort her back through two of the dwarves holds as they were headed to the empire for mercenary work. Once they reached Jesien, Primrose bid them fairwell, and continued out on her own.

The human territories were a very large shift as to the others she had seen. Particularly the one she started in, and had the shortest stay. The people were lovely, but after a week, the religious fanatics were really starting to creep her out, so she moved on. Another year and a half almost, and she has recently made it to Dolmor. Juxtori to be precise, and if she has to tell one more person that her staff is not for sale, she is going to hit someone.

 

[IDIDMYTIME]

Name: Sha Kaa

Race:Lizardman, refers to self, and will be referred to as a Zenuzad

Age:31

Appearance (Height, weight, details, photo):
A 5'4 Zenuzad weighing in at 126 pounds Sha is a relatively thin Zenuzad, she wears a couple necklaces around her neck, adorned with vials, figurines, and the like. She is usually slouching, and has a purple hide, with yellow markings around her. She wears a couple rings around her tail and legs, as well as bracelets on her arms. and regularly wears tribal shaman clothes, with the addition of a headpiece fashioned from different bird feathers.

Spoiler: markings

Personality:
She wears a calm demeanor with her all day, she is usually secretive, only revealing and talking about obvious things to others. She does this to protect herself, and regularly practices her magic secretly, like under her cloak, as she practices necromancy, which is illegal in Treblian. She is a Zenuzad on a mission, and likes to get jobs done quick and easy, she is a good team player though, almost never abandoning ship. She is loyal and follows her teachings. Not much people turn to magic in her tribe anymore though, making her an easy person to excite. But if Sha is ever faced with a dangerous situation, she gets scared, and paranoid

Occupation: Shaman/Merchant

Country of Origin: Jesueola Desert-Monocreole Jungle region.

Assets and Equipment:

• Scepter- A Scepter with a small red jewel on the hilt of it.
• Potions- Mana Restoration(To a small degree), Healing(Also to a small degree)
• Charms-Lucky Charms(Do not eat)
• Food(Dried Crickets,Vegetables,Dried Fish and Beef)
• A Flask for water
• Scrolls and Books for most stuff essential to magic, alchemy, and travelling
• Map of the continent

Skills (Life skills and combat skills, younger characters have less, older characters have more)

• Cooking
• Vast Knowledge of most fields
• Heat Resistant
• Stitching
• Agile
• Good at Ranged Combat
• Basic Knowledge of Close Combat
• Basic Knowledge of Alchemy
• Carving
• Toymaking

Magic User Type: Sorceror

Known Spells:

Blind/Deafen(Necromancy)- Sha can blind or deafen one person within a 30 ft radius for 1 minute, mana cost is very light, due to the short duration of the spell. Rarely used in combat before the events of this RP, used to defend tribe from thieves and bandits.

Finger of Death(Necromancy)- Sha causes searing pain to one person in a 30 ft radius, if it kills, Sha can revive that person as a voodoo type zombie, still looking as if they were alive, just blank and emotionless. Light-Moderate mana cost to cast, An additional Moderate cost to create a zombie. Rarely used.

Mage Hand(Conjuration)-Sha summons a mage hand to help her open doors, pour contents out of vials, and bring things to her, cannot attack and be beyond 30 ft away from the user, Light Mana cost

Ray of Sickness(Necromancy)-A ray of sickness lashes out at a creature within a 60 ft radius, causing nausea, vomiting, and stomach pains for 1 minute, light to moderate mana cost.

Abi-Dalzim's Horrid Wilting- Her strongest and most time consuming spell, Sha can give the effects of Ray of Sickness, to every enemy in a 30 ft radius, plants in that radius also wither and wilt. Heavy Mana Cost.


Bio: Sha Kaa was a normal alchemist's apprentice, until one day bandits came, killing her master and several others. Enraged by this, Sha took off deep into the monocreole jungle, where she met with a shaman who practiced necromancy, Sha then persuaded the hermit to help her, using the spiel that other tribes need help. And so the hermit obliged, teaching her for 4 long years until she was 20, Sha returned with substantial knowledge of cures, spells, and potions, she used these to help cure other Zenuzad, and her Necromancy to be able to fend off bandits. Many years later merchants arrived, selling all sorts of books, scrolls, and medicine. Medicine. Something that the tribe needed most it made her work useless. Because who would trust a necromancer for healing? when they have medicine right then and there! She was a hermit in her hut, seeking knowledge, only making the occasional trip out to get food, supplies, and to visit family. She was useless, but not completely. She then became a merchant, selling goods to
the people, like food, charms, and the like. She became the wise not too old hermit. telling folk tales to kids and creating toys and figurines for them. She had almost forgotten about necromancy, setting aside her wand, those spells still in her mind. But not a main focal part of her life, until now. The Chancellor of the Sahari Kingdom put out a call, to adventurers, magic users, warriors, and other people with skills. To help him out, she was not entirely sure what that meant. But here she is, answering the call. Inspired and excited for the adventure, Sha took off.

 

[Proletariat]

Name: Hitayo Go-Mitsuki

Race: Eastern Elf

Age: 28

Appearance (Height, weight, details, photo): Mitsuki is a muscular woman who stands at 5'7" and weighs about 145 pounds. Her body is covered entirely in colored tribal tattoos even her brows and cheeks have symbols permanently inked onto them, as well as beneath her lips. Although she doesn't appear to be too large, her arms. legs, and torso are extremely toned. She appears to be made of nothing but muscle and skin. Her long hazel hair is typically pulled back tight into a high pony tail. In her natural environment, she wears a plethora of feathers, animal bones, and very little to no plant or leather based clothing. When abroad in more uptight and formal societies, Mitsuki typically wears a long green cloak with a hood. Beneath it she wears a dull colored corset and a dark green skirt with yellow trim. The cloak fastens at the indent beneath her throat and parts down the front middle. Her features are sharp and wild. Her ears are very pointed, as is her chin. Typically she looks like a predator sizing up prey, or she is eerily distant, with a very blank expression on her face. Her thin and tattooed eyebrows only show looks of subtle curiosity or savage animosity.

Spoiler

Personality: Mitsuki is a very eccentric and capricious person. She is highly unpredictable, even to her own people, which adds to her enigmatic nature. Mitsuki claims that her actions and speech are directed by the Gods, which isn't too much of a stretch considering that she is a Warlock. Other Eastern Elves would describe her as a fierce individual, who does nothing by accident and always pours herself into her endeavors. Mitsuki is very distant at times and typically doesn't seem to pay much attention to other people. In reality, she is a schemer who never reveals more than she has to, and pays attention to everything. Mitsuki is highly manipulative and not caring at all, she will use people as she deems necessary, or just for fun. Mitsuki can appear very promiscuous at times, strutting around with confidence and acting very seductive towards the men she sees as "prey." If Mitsuki does find a potential mate, male or female, that she deems worthy of her attention, she is just as likely to kill the individual as she is to fornicate with them. The only people worthy of her attention are those who she finds threatening, in this way she is like a true jungle predator. She does not speak common at all, the only languages she knows are Orcish, Elvish, and Zenuzadi. However, whenever her pact deity takes control of her body, the deity can speak in common. The only time she shows loyalty or honor are to her Gods and to her tribe, and even then, it can be difficult to determine whether or not her actions were truly beneficial..

Occupation: Huntress, Medicine Woman

Country of Origin: Xetchulkai (Eastern Elves)

Assets and Equipment:

• Two bone daggers
• Satchels full of herbal ingredients
• Ceremonial Headdress
• Public Outfit
• Tribal Outfit
• Poison vials
• Atlatl + throwing spears
• Barbed Devil's Talisman

Skills: Hunting, Survival, Athleticism, Climbing, Medicinal Healing, Alchemy, Telepathy

Magic User Type: Warlock

Known Spells:

Dissonant Whispers: Mitsuki whispers a discordant melody that only one creature of her choice within range can hear, wracking it with terrible pain. Weak willed creatures are instilled with mind-shattering fear and flee to the best of their ability. Light mana drain.

Phantasmal Force: Mitsuki attempts to craft an illusion that takes root in the mind of a creature that she can see within range (60ft). On a successful cast create a phantasmal object, creature, or other visible phenomenon of your choice that is no larger than a 10-foot cube and that is perceivable only to the target for the duration. This spell has no effect on undead or constructs. The phantasm includes sound, temperature, and other stimuli, also evident only to the creature. While a target is affected by the spell, the target treats the phantasm as if it were real. The target rationalizes any illogical outcomes from interacting with the phantasm. For example, a target attempting to walk across a phantasmal bridge that spans a chasm falls once it steps onto the bridge. If the target survives the fall, it still believes that the bridge exists and comes up with some other explanation for its fall - it was pushed, it slipped, or a strong wind might have knocked it off. An affected target is so convinced of the phantasm’s reality that it can even take damage from the illusion. A phantasm created to appear as a creature can attack the target. The spell lasts 1 minute and has a light mana drain, but requires full concentration.

Dominate Beast: Mitsuki attempts to beguile a beast that she can see within range. While the beast is charmed, she have a telepathic link with it as long as they are on the same plane of existence. She can use this telepathic link to issue commands to the creature while she are conscious (no action required), which it does its best to obey. This spell has a moderate mana drain.

Evard's Black Tentacles: Squirming, ebony tentacles fill a 20-foot square on ground that she can see within range (90ft). For the duration, these tentacles turn the ground in the area into difficult terrain. When a creature enters the affected area for the first time on a turn or starts its turn there, the creature must dodge the tentacles or take bludgeoning damage and be restrained by the tentacles until the spell ends. A creature in the area and is already restrained by the tentacles takes bludgeoning damage. This spell has a moderate mana cost and lasts 1 minute of complete concentration.

Create Thrall: Mitsuki can charm any incapacitated humanoid with her touch. This lasts until a dispelling spell is cast on them. This has no mana cost, as her patron deity performs this spell.

Booming Blade: After casting this spell and landing a melee attack, the target becomes cloaked in an energy ward. If the target moves in the next 10 seconds, the ward detonates with a remarkably loud boom, and the target takes kinetic damage. This spell has a very light mana drain.

Hellish Rebuke: Mitsuki points her finger, and the creature that damaged her is momentarily surrounded by hellish flames. The creature must dodge the flames or it takes magical fire damage. This spell has a light mana drain.

Infernal Calling: Mitsuki calls upon her demonic patron to send forth a demon from another plane for 1 hour. The demon is not bound to Mitsuki and may be unfriendly towards her or her allies if it thinks it can win the fight, or it may ask that she perform an evil action in exchange for temporary assistance. The demon is a type of her choosing and she can attempt to issue verbal commands to it, but this is unpredictable. This spell has a heavy mana drain.
Bio: WIP

 

[MiraAutumn]

Subject to a lot of change as more information is revealed in the lore section.

Name: Ghorza Sharn

Race: Kingdom Orc

Age: 20

Appearance:

Spoiler: Reference Picture

Ghorza's stout and muscled body makes her appear shorter from a proportionate angle, however, she stands slightly taller than most orcs at a height of 6'2, with a hefty weight of 215 lbs. Her skin colour is more of a forest green, which contrasts against her red-tinted hazel eyes. Her unruly mess of black hair is almost always kept firmly behind her head, however it does hinder her vision from time to time, almost convincing her to just chop it all off. Despite her age, her face remains quite round for an orc. She commonly wears medium armour, although she has the capacity to wear heavy armour, because she prefers being able to move around more freely. Beneath her armour, she wears simple garments sewn together to accomodate her size.

Personality: Ghorza is quite calm compared to her appearance and her other kin. She is dutiful towards her family and her patrons, and won't hesitate to do what she thinks is right in a given situation, although that trait may lead her into a trap. She is relatively polite towards strangers, although she doesn't usually seek out company. Her most intimidating trait is her smile on the battlefield. She innately enjoys fighting and wielding weapons which scares opponents off, not to mention her bloodthirstiness. She is also quite vengeful, not neccesarily petty, but dislikes it when people try to exploit her low intelligence. Her single-mindedness makes it difficult for her to multi-task, or even be alerted whilst she's concentrating, but at the same time makes her a dedicated individual. Perhaps her most 'human' characteristic is her innocent fascination at everything new to her. She likes new knowledge, despite her heritage.

Her favourite colour is light blue. Despite her love of battle and chaos, she enjoys the serenity of the sky.

Occupation: Mercenary-for-hire

Country of Origin: The Orc Kingdoms

Assets and Equipment:

• Medium iron armour - bought by her uncle when they passed through a merchant port in the Greco Republic
• An old warhammer - gifted by her father
• A sturdy belt which carries:
  • A gold pouch
  • A claw of the first lion she defeated in the savannah within the Nuezar Republic
  • A shortsword - used as a secondary weapon
  • A dagger - used as a tertiary weapon
  • A large waterskin - useful for long walks during missions(she bought it after experiencing painful dehydration during an escort job)
  • A small food pouch - where she saves food she cannot finish for later, a habit from her childhood(also acts as an emergency food supply, although she's too dumb to think of it like that)
  • A large map which covers the Sahari Empire

Skills (Life skills and combat skills, younger characters have less, older characters have more):

• Orc-level Weaponsmithing
• Terrible sewing (Can only just about sew clothes together for herself)
• Knows how to use a variety of weapons
• Proficient with her warhammer

Bio: Ghorza was born in the northern reaches of the Orc Kingdoms, alongside four younger siblings. Perhaps due to her being the oldest, she was calmer and more sensible compared to the rest of them. At a young age, due to the impoverished state of her home with so many mouths to feed, she began to take up her father's craft, and produce varying kinds of weapons for their family business. But she quickly realized, she preferred to test out the weapons rather than create them. The hefty but reliable weight of a mace, the fluid swings of a sword and the silent deadliness of daggers all fascinated her. Of course, none of the weapons were well-made compared to the other civillised races, and were therefore more tricky to use, but Ghorza enjoyed wielding them nonetheless. An old favourite of hers is her fathers old trusted warhammer, which felt as if it could obliterate the earth with one good swing, yet still be quite dexterous with it's sharper end.

For a long time, Ghorza was content with her lifestyle, simply making weapons every day, taking care of her siblings and playing with weapons when her father wasn't looking. But as stories began to arrive from places outside her little home, from mercenaries that had travelled around the continent, she began to long for adventure. Her father sensed this change in attitude, and allowed her to take his warhammer to pursue her ambitions. Initially, she was worried for her familys wellbeing without her, but they re-assured her they would be fine. Her siblings were no longer young and needy afterall.

At first, she travelled alongside her uncle, who took her across the goblin territory of Yarkand and sailed her down the river to reach the Sahari Empire. Unfortunately, he met his untimely end whilst working as a bodyguard for a rich human merchant. After his death, Ghorza felt as if she had been stranded in an unfamiliar land, but she adjusted with time. Currently, she resides in the Nuezar Republic, near one of the many marketplaces, where work as a mercenary is easy to find. Many merchants are in need of intimidating figures to defend their wares from thieves, or to protect them whilst travelling across the savnnah from ferocious animals. Ghorza managed to exploit this demand, despite her low intelligence levels. Her life had been quite fufilling so far, but she somehow felt as if there was much more in store for her.

 

[VeiledPariah]

Name:
Kal'Astair (Kaal)

Race:
Seku'Tuai

Age:
27 years of age

Appearance:
Kal stands approximately five feet eight inches, weighs roughly 188lbs his body muscular and defined from years of labor and training.
His features resemble those of his race his hair jet black along with his lips and nails, the only contrast amidst his raven visage are the emerald eyes that pierce into others before their deaths.

Spoiler: Kal's Appearance

Personality:
Kal is very focused on serving the one he calls master.
His apparent loyalty to the humans is dealt from time in slavery and sealed in blood and gold.
Kal will follow orders to the letter, even killing if told to, yet he is not without his own personal quirks.
Even though he feels connected with his people and does his best to take care of them when not in employ he does not completely agree with their beliefs of pacifism.
When hunting his targets he is calculating and very tactical in his approach often trying to find multiple ways to handle any given situation.
Kal has a sense of humor although it may be more dark in a sense.

Occupation:
Assassin/Slave

Country of Origin: K'sesk'ualar(Coastline)

Assets and Equipment:

Oaken short Bow with hip strapped quiver

Spoiler: Bow image

Two belts of throwing knives strapped to his left thigh and right arm.

Spoiler: Throwing knives

Falcata and serrated dagger

Spoiler: Kals Blades

Rations, water skin, and flint

Cloak muddy brown in color but sturdy against the elements
Steel cuirass and leather armor (See image for better understanding).
(Assassins Uniform)
Skills (Life skills and combat skills, younger characters have less, older characters have more):

Weapons Handling: Knows his way around many weapons but is only a true master of the bow, falcata, and dagger.



Disease Resistance: Race Ability, naturally immune or more resistant to poisons and disease.

Stalkers Gait:
Agile, Adept and skillful at moving quickly and silently.
As well as the ability to climb most vertical surfaces using his webbed/clawed hands.

Survivalist:
Can accomplish necessary everyday tasks that could sustain one in the wild.
I.E. hunt, fish, make a fire, dress and cook meat, navigate the land etc.

Bilingual: Can speak his native tongue as well as the Common language of man.

Bio:
((Bio will be in first and third person, IC will be third though))
The first memory that I recall is the sting of the lash opening the flesh of my back and the scent of my blood as it trickled onto the coarse white sand staining it a dark green.
Thinking back i had deserved that punishment for trying to fight back and resist the inevitable.
We are all mere beams of a foundation that supports a mighty structure that we could never begin to fathom or understand. That is how Marick explained it to me when i was but a child...
It's been so long and much has changed while much has stayed the same.
That man that human gave me more than i knew a slave could ever ask for.
He was a master, a mentor, a father...
If not for his keen eye i would still be in the fields being whipped and worked until i could no longer keep my eyes open.
Thinking of him reminds me of the first day we met.
I was but twelve years of age and my sister and I had snuck away from our duties yet again in an effort to find a rare herb that only grew on a specific part of the island. We thought it would please the overseers,get us extra rations or at least some reprieve from work for a time.
What we faced was much greater.
A jungle cat stalled us from the reeds and when we were eventually found by Marick and the guards it had already torn my sister to shreds.
They did nothing to interfere as the beast bare down on me its last adversary that is until Marick tossed me a blade of steel.
"Fight or die..Survive or let the beast take you..these are the only choices you will ever be free to make on your own child"
That is what he said and to this day...I have never forgotten them.
I grasped the blade and with a tenacity i had never known fought with the great feline until at last only i stood.
From that day i belonged to him.
He trained me in the ways of swordsmanship, The common tongue, and his culture.
I learned how to fight and kill but even upon surpassing him in skill I knew my place. After all these years.
So much has changed, yet so little...and i like it that way..
Kal'Astair is a Seku'Tuai in servitude to the house of Astair lead by the old war veteran turned entrepreneur Marick Astair.
The man saw in him great potential to become one of his top body guards and secretly a replacement for his lost sons who fell in battle alongside him many moons ago.
Kal has since his childhood years grown to become the houses finest warrior and of course his true purpose assassin.
His loyalty never wavering and in doing so his life has continued but the world is vast and many seek their own ways.
Will he find a path of his own?
Will fate take hold and greet him in indescribable ways?
Only time and this story will tell.

Spoiler: Mention

Proletariat
Let me know how this looks so far.

 

[oldbadname]

Name: Ashi, Son of Ish

Race: Xetchulkai

Age: 62

Appearance (Height, weight, details, photo):
6’1”, 170lb, Generally wears fur or leather, doesn’t mind cloth, never wears a lot of metal
Personality:
A light hearted man that turns savage whenever in combat. He likes poetry due to the songs they would sing day and night in the boats, and he small quipes that fellow miners would say to one another. He tends to believe anything that is said, but has gotten a little better over the years. Anyone who talks to him may tell you he “has the aura of an immigrant. He speaks of our culture, and knows our words, but he just isn’t us.” This makes him stand out noticeably at quiet places, but not loud.

Occupation:
Pirate
Country of Origin:
Eastern Elf Territory, Xetshul Forest
Assets and Equipment:
A single, rapier-style sword with hand guard and ring cross guard, usually coated in low-quality poison.
A primitive grenade: an iron cast around black powder with a fuse.
Skills (Life skills and combat skills, younger characters have less, older characters have more):
Life in the forest: (has to be in the woods to prepare items) 1-54 years old
-low quality Poison making
-mediocre herbal remedies
-mediocre barb weapons, like caltrops
-can pick the most beautiful flower
Life in the mines: 55-57 years old
-Can generally see in the dark, although it's not that great
-Is a pro at picking pivotal positions in terrain for destroying things (Even though it is not that great as a killing tool OR destroying places, only really for nature or obvious spots)
-mediocre planning
Life at sea: 59-62 years old
-swordfighting at a self-defending level (due to battles at sea being cluster-you-know-whats, pirate style swordfighting was more about defending yourself against one or two opponents quickly, then moving out of the way of the mayhem).
-how to talk like an actual person (this is way too OP, please nerf XD)
-Doesn’t get seasick
-Is able to ration effectively
+This moment in his life made his stealth skills rusty, almost nonexistent

=every gap in age is whenever he spent time not during a major point in his life, maybe in the wilderness, or in jail.
Bio:
According to a friend of his, whom he would occasionally sneak back into his home forest to see, Ashi had a small problem when it came to... 'talking to the spirits'. Every other day, Ashi would (supposedly) go to the local doctor and fake an illness, just for a taste of liquor. This, or whatever the true reason may be, is why the entire tribe of his had known him as a sickly boy. This was a problem mostly because he was declared, by Ish the tribe leader, to be the ‘next almighty hunter’. Some believed that old man, while others looked at his ‘sickly’ nature, and said that a man named Bimba, who was a clearly stronger and healthier hunter, would be the ‘next almighty hunter’. Perhaps Ashi loved being inebriated due to the colossal stress set on him by his father? Or perhaps he was just addicted? Or maybe it's not even true? Ashi doesn’t remember.
He didn’t remember much of the event. He didn’t remember when he supposedly would leave chicken eggs out front of door steps. He didn’t remember when Bimba was declared a blasphemer. The one thing he definitely doesn’t remember is attacking Bimba on the way back from a hunting trip, with the intent to kill. He was told that he ‘maliciously’ ordered his fellow hunters to ambush his enemy’s hunting troop, killing two and wounding Bimba. His friend and he both agreed that that didn’t happen, and that it wouldn’t happen over something as empty as ‘next almighty hunter’ especially when that name held no influence, and wasn’t an acknowledged title for anyone ever in the history of their tribe.
Nevertheless, Ashi had become the laughing stock of the tribe, on the account of the doctor’s words, who just so happened to be on Bimba’s side, and Ashi knew this to be true. On the account of an assault he didn’t remember doing, Ashi was exiled from tribe territory. He was afraid. He had never known what the outside would be like, except that it was full of infidel elves and weird, little, short-eared things that had the lifespan of a small lizard (humans).
However, venturing out of his homeland, as he was not considered welcome by the other tribes (for whatever reason… you would think that the tribes would use the man power), he discovered another sapient being he was never told about. Even shorter than what humans and northern elves were described as, he at first thought that the dwarves were human children. That, and his outlandish and revealing clothing, landed him in forced labor in a mine, unbeknownst to authorities.
(Let me speed this up.) This is where he learned civilized language. This is where he also learned how to use explosives effectively on terrain, and escaped using mining explosives. He was able to run from the mountains in the south of Velstrom all the way to a port in the northern part of Velstrom (not in one day of course). That is where he decided that he needed to get as far away from dwarvish-society as possible, and took the only offer that seemed to get him that far; Pirating.
This is where he learned sword skills. This is where he learned how to endure without food and good water for a couple days. This is where he obtained advanced lingual skills. Also, he didn’t have a drinking problem at this time, despite having to drink rum daily. (This is due to ships during that time period being unable to house water for long periods of time, and that's why everyone on the high seas were wasted).
When he was done with this life, he went back to his home forest. He met up with his friend, and told him all about what he had experienced: the slavery, the pirating, the glory of battle at seas, and the treasure. When he was done, his friend turned to him and told him about everything that had transpired in the village, including the death of Ish, the grasping of influence by another old warrior, and about his own adventures. When they were done talking, and his friend was done making fun of Ashi’s silly accent, they looked each other in the face.
Ashi let out his hand. “I, Ashi, will return.”
Bimba took his hand. “I, Bimba, will wait.” They shook hands, and Ashi left. This isn’t the last time that they see each other, but Ashi can not hang around the forest long.

Bimba, ‘his friend’, had set it all up, and Ashi never knew. Ashi was never a drunk, Ashi never killed nor hurt anything besides his prey, and Bimba has given him an herb that didn’t allow long term memory. What a terrible price Bimba paid for glory. Now Ashi looks for adventure with only a sword, his brain, and his silly accent.

 

[Snackofthefuture]

Name: Trellis Derk

Race: Human

Age:27

Appearance: 5'9, 168 lbs, Dirty blonde with blue eyes, Several regimental tattoos from the units he's served with.
An old brand mark above his left hip in the shape of a coiled serpent.

Guy on the left

Personality: A bastard soldier whose main concern is survival and the forwarding of his own desires. Not a hateful person like most born in the North
but its not cause he's a particularly good person, he just knows that to judge before-hand can remove benefits to yourself and put you at a disadvantage.
Pessimistic and pragmatic, his years as a soldier have dampened his enthusiasm for life. He resents the world for that, for stealing his joy.
Not particularly trusting but he acts like it in order to convey a persona resembling a kinder person.
Believes in the doctrine of "The more the merrier" trusting that having more bodies on your side is never a bad way of doing things. Also believes in "Knowledge is power" learning what he can when he can in order to deal with potential threats. A confident and successful soldier Trellis trusts in his abilities and his sword more than most his blood-relatives.
Trusts his gear and keeps it in good condition to keep himself in good condition, he's not one to spare expense in keeping himself healthy and fit.

Occupation: Mercenary with a bit of scholar thrown in.

Country of Origin: Central Alton

Assets and Equipment: Camaradrie with multiple units of soldiers. Knows people. Dwarven Broadsword and Shield with knife.

Skills: Thirst for knowledge, diplomacy skills, good with intoxicants

Bio: Born in Central Alton to a family of twelve, Trellis learned early on that numbers equal power and power gets you what you want. He was always very close with his family and they were close with him, so the day he decided to become a soldier was a day of intense fighting, granted not the sort he'd be experiencing soon but you get the idea. His family did not like his plans; Trellis didn't give a shit though and went through with his plan despite through the protests of everyone related to him by blood. Joining the military helped Trellis find the allies and friends he'd been looking for so badly; his connections run deep and are many despite his lack of societal standing. Soldiering however, did leave it's mark on him as having a lot of friends in the military has it's drawbacks, like the mourning; The young soldier has watched many friends die and heard tell of many others fall in battle and it's never any easier to deal with the losses. Each has torn a part from him and he has since learned to detach himself slightly, becoming more accepting of death despite the melancholy it brings.

 

[Nero Kunivas]

Name: Soren Monroe

Race: Human

Age: 34

Appearance: Soren stands at 6'5, weighs 185 lbs, possesses dark orange irises, raven-black neck-length unkempt hair, generally wears a high collar, knee-length dark grey jacket, the lower edges burnt by fire, buttoned up slightly lighter shirt, similar coloured slacks fastened by a belt, strong leather boots and a silver necklace with a sapphire gem pendant, seemingly holding sentimental value. His facial features are sharp and crisp, with a minor scar over both his lips on his left side.

Spoiler

https://pm1.narvii.com/6594/830601cb1c06b4d758021f8224df2883097027f4_hq.jpg

Personality: While often considered abrasive and a little harsh, Soren's best interests are firmly reserved with all races who live upon this rock. Humanity comes first, of course, yet Soren believes that understanding must be achieved across the races, maybe not so far as unity, but a mutual understanding and a truer period of peace would certainly be a start for him. As a result, he is a passionate man at heart, his experience thus far has not dulled his interest nor has it numbed his heart, for if an Elf, an Orc or whatever else came his way, he'd be a much kinder Human than most, even with his race being supposedly "tolerant", along with his being a perceptive man, understanding quicker and better than most who a person is or what they're feeling. By no means a therapist, Soren is still a prying man, eager to scratch away at the surface to uncover what truly lies underneath. When doing business, he is very capable of being both courteous and very direct with his employers and regular townsfolk.

Usually the eldest in the room, Soren finds himself needing to keep the headstrong, ambitious younger men and women under his watch in check, in the past due to his time in the Alton Army this was a frequent situation, though even Mercenary work can have this rear its head. His wit is quite dry as a result, his snark almost knowing no bounds, though the only thing that can be considered even slightly 'delightful' about him, is his love for cupcakes, particularly those of the pink and small variety.

Occupation: Ex-Military, Mercenary (With a Code of Honour, has fought for Garkland before.), occasional taker of odd jobs.

Country of Origin: Alton, Kreighold

Assets and Equipment: Light, yet strong armour under his clothing.
Greatsword, dwarven forged.

Spoiler

Dwarven Runes for Fire, used only to light his Greatsword's blade on fire.
Crudely made Fire Bombs, black powder but with additional, flammable liquid to boost flame damage, three can be thrown in quick succession.
Small, well-made Crossbow, usually holstered and deployable, can fire regular steel bolts.
Crossbow Bolts.
Flask for water.
Sack for gold coins.
Back-up dagger hidden in his boot.

Skills: Greatsword Proficiency; With its ability to deal crushing blows and difficulty parrying such a large sword, Soren's Greatsword is more of an extension of himself at this point.

Adaptable; Along with being on the offensive, Soren can gradually read his opponents and learn to adapt and counter. Not to the level of some warriors he has seen, but counter-attacks, parries and evasion are strong suits for a mostly magic-less Mercenary. Even agile moves such as attempting to vault over him won't work too many times.

Plan of Attack; As a Mercenary, Soren is often paid to enter dangerous situations, often requiring forethought and of course, a detailed plan. Most groups he is assigned to, if any, have him be the plan maker, with him designating comrades to roles more suited to their strengths before he leads the charge.

Intimate Knowledge of Hand-to-Hand Combat; Without his Greatsword, Bombs, Crossbow or anything else he picks up, Soren is far from defenseless. His physical strength helps him put more force into his punches and kicks, while being able to execute counter-throws against telegraphed attacks or simply rush his foe with a vicious attack-throw, often thrusting their head to the ground to incapacitate or at least, daze them.


Bio: Born to a single mother in Alton's capital, Soren's life has always been forged in fire right from the start, it would seem. In education, he was bullied for being a bastard or too quiet, but it never took long, no matter who it was who started the teasing, for him to fight back, be it with words of protest or those who tried to punch him, with greater levels of violence, his dense bone structure allowing him to do a number on bullies who, strangely enough, never bothered him again. During his teenage years, Soren always wanted to do his part, as it were, constantly taking odd jobs and aspiring to join Alton's military, to find purpose and organization in his life, something his mother was incredibly supportive about, which he doubted she would be at first, though this was helped by the time where he and his mother were the victims of an attempted mugging. 'Were' being the operative word, as he repelled the knife strike, broke the asshole's arm and made him eat the dirt with a throw to the ground. His quick thinking and above average strength had him make the cut with little trouble, finally enlisting as he always dreamed.

Despite rising the ranks, earning friends and commendations, Soren realized military life wasn't up to snuff, as he repeatedly butted heads with his superiors about their ideals, the orders he received and their problems with his conduct, though their issues were blown out of proportion, Soren would admit today that he had legitimate grievances back then...namely arrogance. He was only kept around as long as he was because he was an otherwise good soldier and over time, the higher-ups managed to get at least some sense into the headstrong Soren. But the true kicker was when Soren heard news about his mother back home; She had fallen deathly ill and had little to no hope of recovery, her death would be upon her any day from then. He was allowed to visit her and spent every waking hour his mother had left by her side, wishing her not to be alone in her final moments.

It was then that Soren's mother reached for her necklace, removing it and weakly handing it to Soren, who initially refused, citing that it was her late-boyfriend's final gift to her, but she insisted, wanting him to be its next keeper, to remember her by when she was gone. Reluctantly, Soren finally accepted the necklace, soon after closing his mothers eyes as she passed peacefully. All this forced a change within Soren, who immediately returned to the military...only to resign, seeking a different way of living despite his several years of faithful service. He was allowed to do so honourably and went on to become a professional Mercenary, his habit of taking odd jobs on the side still intact from childhood. Having seen much in battles within Alton's Military, Mercenary Work, a couple of battles for Garkland and the world itself, Soren now feels he can do something more, while still keeping to his more freeing career...perhaps now he'll get that chance.

(Sorry I'm late. I'm, hoping it's all right for him to use Dwarven Runes. It's only for one thing, after all. )