Fantasy Witcher Tales: Characters

[MrBossMan]

Characters
​

This is where all of our characters will go, make sure you read over the rules in the main page before you make a character. The character sheet deadline will be Saturday, April 28th. That's the latest I'll accept a character so have them done before then.

Spoiler: A basic CS code made by the amazing Coconut

character
sheet
​

Name: Self-explanatory

Age: Self-explanatory

Race: Elf/Dwarf/Human/Witcher/Other

Gender: Male or Female

Appearance: (At least 2 paragraphs)

Personality: (At least 2 paragraphs)

Flaws and Weaknesses: (If explained in the personality then you can skip this one)

Skills and Abilities (What does your character bring to the table? What would they offer to the group? What are they good at?)

Profession or Station: (Your characters job or title in the world)

Biography: (At least 3 paragraphs)

 

[Iskandar]

Henri Aep Lassic



Aliases/Titles:
The Tragic Playwright
The Raven

Age:
35

Race:
Human

Gender:
Male

Sexuality:
Heterosexual

Profession or Station:
Playwright, Author.

Appearance:
Henri Lassic stands just above six feet tall, sometimes six feet and one inch depending on the pair of boots he wears. The man has a light skin tone that almost borders on pale at times. His face is covered in that of a Russet beard that matches his messy yet soft hair. His eyes are that of amber but filled to the brim with a glint of eccentricity. Lassic's physique would be more towards the lean side, but in general he is not very athletic or muscular. Lassic has rather broad shoulders with long limbs and a slender torso.

As for clothing, Lassic attempts to stay up to date with fashion. The man wears one of two outfits most of the time. The first is his over the top black-red-gold suit with the extreme collar. He has a rather large hat that matches the outfit but rarely wears the thing. His other outfit is a tad more simple as it consists of a green shirt and matching coat, brown pants and a matching cape draped over one shoulder and an orange tie to make the whole thing pop. Lassic always has a black blank book with various empty pages in one hand and a quill in the other.

Personality:
Gentlemanly and soft-spoken at first. Placing the importance of the Story above all else, he will lie and cheat and by any means conduct himself that he might witness the unfolding of a grand tale, beautiful beyond compare. Consequently, he tends to distance himself from mentality of the "participant," taking instead the perspective of an abstract, "Authorial" third person. His regard for others differs by individual, dependent on their qualification as a special existence, or "protagonist." He interacts with "normal humans" only in a shallow, dismissive manner, and expresses an extreme interest in "protagonists." In slight narcissism, he frequently drops such self-authored quotes as, "Things bad begun make strong themselves by ill." He's taken a liking to certain terminology from modern fiction, such as "Death-Flagging." With short and effective words, Lassic brings to light that what humans usually keep hidden. This is like suddenly being poked by rambling, incongruous words, so one would probably feel shocked.

In essence, Lassic is an extremely narcissistic and arrogant man. While he may come off as friendly and flamboyant at first he is anything but that. He tends to talk down to people and views them all as mere characters for his writings and plays. Lassic is a sarcastic asshole and a sadist who enjoys seeing people in pain and enjoys teasing the hell out of those he finds tolerable. In the end his goal is to see everyone experience a tragedy so that he may write the greatest of plays.

Skills and Abilities:
Honestly? Lassic has no use in terms of combat. He is more useless than a infant when it comes to such things like fighting and violence. He is good at talking though. If need be he can charm the pants off anyone, granted he would rather not stoop so low as to talk with the characters of his work, but he will do it if strong armed. Lassic simply offers the chance to etch the names of this group into history. He will write the greatest story, one rivaled by none, about this group of individuals. Lassic does have one ability though that would help out in the toughest of spots.

First Folio: The ultimate play that Henri invokes. Depending on the circumstances, when invoked, the effects may vary. It is an ability that doesn't deal any physical damage, but it is the worst possible thing to face. Basically, there isn't anyone who doesn't have some kind of guilty conscience.

Regardless of friend or foe, he institutes the target group as characters in a drama of his making. Then on top of that, he confronts the target with a difficult challenge. To heroes, it would be their past regrets; to anti-heroes, it would be the moment they lost themselves. Henri can expose the traumas that everyone holds inside themselves, and by ridiculing or censuring them, he can completely break their hearts. In regards to the target's life, it replays the scenes that mentally damages the target the most. In Henri's words, it inflicts despair. An ability that closes the world, brings forth the script and forces the story along. Also, from the curtain rising to the curtain call, the target cannot deal physical damage. The probability of being drowned and trapped within this ability is greater the more someone is confident of their physical strength. The only ones who can overcome this ability are those who can declare that they have not a single dirty stain on their lives. There are very few who can believe in something and have no regrets at all. If it's someone who can directly confront the trauma they hold, they might be able to somehow manage to overturn Henri's piercing words. Though, when someone has had their heart broken by this ability, they receive the bad status of “absentmindedness”.


Biography:
Henri was born in the city of Nilfgaard to Lassic Var Winneburg and Iva Var Eiddon who were simple commoners. Henri's father was a cobbler and his mother a baker. They lived a steady and secure life in the capital of Nilfgaard. Henri himself wasn't much of standout character either. He'd help his father and mother with their work whenever needed. He'd keep to himself and was very anti-social. The child was a bookworm and loved spending all his spare time in the books his mother would buy for him.

When Henri entered his teenage years he began to write as he now dreamed of becoming an author. His goal in life was to write the best book the world had ever seen. That would all change when the young teenage boy saw his first play. He fell in love with the concept of plays and shifted his dream from book author to playwright. While his dreams may have shifted, Henri continued to write his book but focused more on plays and scripts. At the age of nineteen, after five years of grueling pain and dedication, Henri finished his first script. His parents supported him, and helped the young man find a company willing to look at his play. It was immediately rejected, and Henri was devastated, but he did not give up. He continued to try and sell his script to trope after trope, company after company. All rejecting his ideas until one small, almost forgettable company accepted his script.

The play was a hit with the commoners and lower class citizens. It was a comedy that the lower class were able to relate to. The play aired for six weeks and Henri, proud of it becoming popular, decided to immediately begin working on a new script. Sadly tragedy would strike the man and set him down a path he could not return from. His parents both died as thugs attempted to extort them for money. His parents had refused and they ended up with their throats slit. Devastated by the news that his parents were murdered, Henri became extremely depressed. He stayed indoors at all times, never allowed for visitors and rarely ate. Very few even spoke to him during this period in his life.

A year would pass and Henri would finally emerge from the despair that wrought over him. He immediately made an impact with a play filled to the brim with tragedy and chaos. It became and instant hit in Nilfgaard, being praised by both the commoners and nobles of the Empire. Company after company begged for Henri to let them put on his play at their theatre. At the age of 23, Henri was a superstar in the Empire of Nilfgaard. The young man was able to masterfully control the crowd. He managed to keep them in the palm of his hand with ease. He'd continue to churn out hit after hit for a few years before growing rather bored of Nilfgaard. He wished to test himself by seeing how his works would fair in the Northern Kingdoms.

At first Lassic was greeted with disgust and hate. Those of the Northern Kingdoms did hate Nilfgaard after all, and Lassic couldn't exactly blame them. Nilfgaardians were quite the snobby sort and the Empire did seem to impose on the Northern Kingdoms. Finding a place that would actually accept his plays were even harder. Lassic was faced with extreme prejudice until he arrived in Novigrad. There a rather crap theatre in need of money and customers took his script and produced it. At first very little people saw it, the prejudice towards Lassic still showing, but eventually people began to trickle in and on the last night of the play, the theatre had a full house. Out of thanks to the theatre, Henri would exclusively have his plays be produced by them, and eventually he would buy them and even buy a better and larger building for the company.

Soon after purchasing the company and theatre, Henri began to rapidly change once more. He'd once again lock himself in his room and not allow for visitors. He'd rarely eat and was only seen at night. The man kept to himself, his room littered with papers and books as if he had not cleaned it in months. Incidentally around this time, a string of mysterious cases occurred, where countless people were found wandering around Novigrad in an almost zombie like way. They were listless and their eyes devoid of color, but no one was able to figure out the cause and eventually the strange cases stopped. Soon after this the man returned to society but his personality had morphed into that of a narcissistic asshole who believed everyone was below him. That he was an author and everyone were his characters. No one knows what changed the man but he vowed that he would write the greatest play to ever be seen, and that he would only accept the finest of characters to write about. Until then he would not write any more plays. He would keep his theatre open, allowing for other playwrights to have their works produced and viewed by the masses.

Other:
Lassic has a pet Raven that is typically sat on his shoulders.

Theme Song:
​

 

[MrThe]

Name: Hubelet "The Handsome" LaBroche

Age: 100

Race: Witcher

Gender: Male

Appearance: Hubelet is dressed in the Gear of the Griffon School, always kept in impeccable condition if ever possible. He is pale-skinned and has straw blonde hair, remarkably unscathed for a witcher, he is only missing his left-hand pinky and two toes from his right foot, he is also missing a chunk out of both his ears which he covers with his wavy shoulder-length hair. His chest and back are crisscrossed with scars, as are all four of his limbs. His face is unadorned with scars or if there are any it is hidden by the short beard.

He is of medium height, being about 5 and a half feet tall, but is very well built. He is very handsome, having a sort of marbled look to him. His horse is a light tan or caramel color with a white nose, white feet, and white hair named Cuthbert.

Personality: Quite different from most other Witchers, Hubelet, rather than portraying a stoic exterior is quite affable and friendly to most people. Always trying to smooth over obstacles with honeyed words Hubelet is of the opinion that with so many dangerous creatures that threaten all of civilization, it behoves no one to be constantly at each other's throat. Despite such ideals, Hubelet knows that not all situations can be resolved peacefully and so has no qualms slaying the less monstrous races if the need arises. Hubelet is kind and generous, something that has laid him in hot water more than once. Overall he is a mellow sort not easily roused to anger. However, when his anger is roused, he is utterly ruthless in carrying out the Justice he feels is due. Earning him the nickname Hubelet the Hacker, and Hubelet the Heartless.

To give an example, the town of Grimsby was about to string up a girl accused of being a witch. Hubelet tried talking them down, but it was to no avail. Despite his efforts to the contrary Hubelet had to resort to violence. He managed to rescue the girl, but it turned out to be a massacre, that particular event earned him the Nickname the Grimsby Reaper. Despite all his attempts to appear the noble hero people treat him like a monster. But when people refuse to see you as anything but a monster it's hard not to act like one. I guess that's why he tried so hard to portray a heroic image, he couldn't give them the satisfaction of their justifying their vilification of him. He tried so hard to be Hubelet the Hero, but they only saw Hubelet the Hacker, Hubelet the Heartless. Some might call him vain, or a gloryhound, maybe that is true, but Hubelet just once wanted to be looked upon with admiration, or respect, anything but the hatred most people had in their eyes when looking at him.

Flaws and Weaknesses: He can sometimes be a bit too loathe to draw a blade.

Skills and Abilities: Besides the myriad benefits that are given to Witchers, Hubelet is a masterful orator, a smooth talker if you will, a skill he picked up through talking down the many, many pogroms that have been raised against him and other less than favorably looked upon people. Moreover, he is a gifted horseman and expert tracker. Hubelet is also quite skilled with Signs. He also tends to favor the lance when on horseback.

Profession or Station: Witcher

Biography: Hubelet was born in Toussaint, the son of a local lord and his courtier mistress. Raised on stories of the heroic knights that saved the day and always got the girl. You know, that kind of silly fairytale nonsense. As a child born out of wedlock there wasn't much Hubelet could end up as. So when a Witcher from the Griffon School arrived looking just like the knights-errant from the storybooks Hubelett leapt at the chance to become a witcher, laughing off all the attempts to dissuade him. At first, the Witcher refused to take Hubelet with him, so he decided that if the Witcher wouldn't take him, he'd have to follow him. So he tailed the witcher for nearly two weeks armed only with his trusty dagger and his wits. The Witcher was surprised that Hubelet could survive on his own like that and so decided to train him after all. But not only did he excel in the Grueling training, he also managed to survive the trials, and so, in the end, he got his wish.

But despite achieving his goals becoming a witcher he soon discovered that he was one of a dying breed. The School of the Griffon was nearly extinct, having only a few witchers left, and even fewer who knew the secret to make more. That was roughly 85 years ago, now there are even fewer witchers than before, and no one that knew how to create more, and worse, similar events have seemed to happen to all the other Schools. And so it became the mission of Hubelet to rediscover the means to administer the Trials and establish a new Witcher School, along with any surviving witchers. This time he would dub it the School of the Phoenix, to symbolize the rebirth of the Witchers.

Besides his mission to restore the Witchers to prominence is his other mission, to hunt down the monsters that prey upon ordinary people. Many Witchers hunt them down because they are paid to do so because it's their job. Hubelet viewed it a bit differently, for him it was no ordinary job, it was a sacred calling. He still believed in the Witcher's original purpose, to be the one thing standing between civilization and total extinction. Hubelet only took payment because it was expected of him and because it was necessary. While he wished to rediscover the process to create more witchers, that was simply a means to an end. That end being the security of the sentient races, and he could not neglect that duty while searching for the secrets of the Witcher Trials.

 

[peachuu]

Character Completion

.age: 207

.gender: female

.species: elf

LOVIA
AERASUME

.appearance: Standing 5' 5" tall, Lovia has broad shoulders and short arms, a slender torso and very large breasts, wide hips, and strong legs. White, silky hair slightly reveals a plump and cute face--short chin, hollow cheeks, and large ears. Her eyebrows are smooth, as squinting lilac eyes, set seductively within their sockets, watch heartily over the natives they've nearly died for for so long. This periwinkle skinned woman has an attractive feel about her; soft skin gorgeously compliments her small nose and leaves a delightful memory of her fortunate destiny. The is the face of Lovia Aerasume, a true romanticist among elves. She stands towering above others, despite her small frame. There's something mysterious about her, perhaps it's her flirtatious nature or perhaps it's simply her disposition. But nonetheless, people tend to stay on her good side, while trying to hide from her.

She usually wears new clothes, possibly stolen from or bought by the men she has interacted with. Her particularly noticeable features are her full lips, her expensive perfume and her smile. She usually tends to wear a long sleeved, leather jacket that covers her to well above her waist and is loosely tied with string at the bottom left side. The sleeves of her jacket are a little narrow and reach down to well below her wrists, they're decorated with a single thread lining and a decorative band. The jacket has a wide, rectangular neckline which reveals a short puffed blouse with bandage wrappings hidden discretly below it, showing much of her stomach as it is worn with a thin rope belt, which is held together by an intricate knot. The rope belt is slightly decorative, but mostly there to hang things from. Her pants are simple and hug to her body, then reach down to her hard leather calf-high boots. The shoes are made from a pretty unique leather, but are otherwise a common type.

.personality: Lovia is all about these qualities—self-confidence, sexual energy, sense of purpose, contentment—that most people lack and want. She particularly radiates outward, permeating the gestures of Charismatics, making her seem extraordinary and superior, and making the others imagine there is more to her than meets the eye: perhaps everyone's golden girl in bed. She can seduce on a grand scale; standing out from others through a distinctive and appealing style, she can make others want to watch her. At the same time, she are vague and ethereal, keeping her distance, and letting those imagine more than is there.

Unfortunately very few people like Lovia despite her attactive appearance, but the fact she's predatory and partially apathetic is just the tip of the iceberg. To make things worse she's also agonizing, irresponsible and blunt, but at least those are kept somewhat in check by habits of being companionably as well. But focus on her as this is what she's often despised. Plenty of days have been ruined because of this and her envy, which plenty have been a witness to. Fair is fair though, Lovia does have some lighter sides. She's brilliant and romantic for a start, it's not like we're dealing with pure evil here. Unfortunately her apathetic nature often pops up fast enough to ruin the chances of something good.

.profession or station: Elven waitress by day, thief by night.

.skills and abilities: Lovia radiates an aura of attractiveness, naturally inducing pleasure and desire while subtly lifting inhibitions. The affected targets remain fully themselves, but can't help but long for her favor and affection, and can't bring themselves to cause her harm except as a last resort, like an irreplaceable treasure too precious to be lost. Wtih this memorable ability in mind, she can form either and army of men or quickly use this to muster information out of someone.

.biography: WIP I KNOW SORRY KOSS

 

[ShadowRogue]

Kivan Il-Khan

General Information

Age: 32
Race: Half-elf
Gender: Male
Languages: Fluent in Elder speech and Common, knows some Dwarvish swear words.
Sexuality: Bisexual
Profession: Hunter and Ranger for the Redanian King, occasional guard for the court sorceress
Theme song:

Appearance

Kivan inherited more elven features than human. He has the classical elven ears, high cheekbones and a sharp jaw, a near spitting image of his elven father. From his human mother he inherited a tanned skin colour, contrasting with his normally pale elven kin, and her fine, chestnut locks which reached to his shoulders. He stands at a towering six feet and three inches, yet another trait from his elven heritage. He is long limbed and has a lean, lanky build and is very light footed. His eyes, like his mother’s, were a stormy grey. They are usually bright with amusement and a spark of intelligence and cunning is hidden in their depths. A distinguishing feature of his is the blue facial tattoo he had gotten which seemed to enhance the elven features of his face. Other than a few scars scattered here and there, the only notable one he has is a large, angry looking one diagonal across his back from right shoulder to left hip.

In terms of clothing, he generally prefers light yet durable leather armor, worn over a green tunic with brown accents. He generally wears dark brown hunting trousers as well as knee high leather boots and dark leather, fingerless gauntlets. Completing his ensemble is usually a dark green cloak fastened at his chest with a metal brooch depicting a leaf. He typically wore a hoop earring at his right ear lobe and had some beads woven into select locks of his hair.

Personality

Kivan is generally a pretty cheerful person, preferring to fight the world’s darkness and despair with pranks and practical jokes. He generally seems to shrug off insults, having been the target of them his whole life he was quite used to them and didn’t let them affect him, at least not on the surface.

This didn’t mean he was a pushover by any means. Like everyone, even he has his limits and has no qualms with teaching particularly mean people a lesson with his fists.

Surface impressions can be deceiving however. Deep down he’s a tortured soul feeling unwanted and hated by all, both humans and elves. When it comes down to it, his light heartedness is a mask. A layer in the many walls he has surrounded himself with. Hidden behind those walls is an icy heart, easily shattered by all the cruelty that had been shown to him by the world. He has major self-esteem issues, believing himself worthless and unlovable. He also had trust issues. How could he trust anyone if literally the only trustworthy people he ever knew were his parents?

Kivan always had a way with words and was quite the skilled liar. However he only put that skill to use if necessary as he generally disliked doing it unless it was to prank someone or play a trick on them. He was a gentle person by nature, avoiding violence if possible, though could be quite fierce and vindictive if wrongly provoked. He was also quite proud, and found difficulty with admitting his wrongs.

He could also be quite the annoying person, seeming immature and childish sometimes. He also has a bad habit of making inappropriate jokes during sad or grim situations, thought not through any malicious intentions. It was simply how he dealt with such events. He has a talent for controlling and masking his emotions from others, and is capable of seeming happy or indifferent even if he's devastated on the inside. He isn't good at sharing his true feelings, he would rather bottle everything up and forget about it.

Despite his attitude, he knows the value of being serious when it counted and he isn't completely tactless.

Skills and Abilities

Kivan’s main skill and talent is that of archery. He can do wonders with a bow whether he is on foot, horseback or perched on a tree. He is an excellent sniper as well as skilled at rapid firing as long as there is sufficient distance between him and his targets. He is also somewhat alright at hand to hand combat, and can handle himself in a brawl, but he certainly avoids those if he can.

Due to being a ranger, he is quite experienced at tracking his prey. Though his skills are nowhere near those of witchers, he is considered a master by normal standards amongst both humans and non-humans. He also has a penchant for climbing trees and buildings, having been an avid climber in his youth. Kivan is also adept at herbal knowledge as his mother was somewhat of a herbalist and he often went with her on outings to gather wild herbs and mushrooms as well as aid her in tending to their small garden. He applies this knowledge by mixing poisons to lace his arrows with, making them twice as deadly.

Flaws and Weaknesses

-Kivan loves pranks. Unfortunately he also has low self-control when it comes to them and sometimes goes overboard with them, as well as his jokes which could sometimes come off as cruel.

-While an excellent hunter, he’s absolute crap at cooking the food he catches.

-His greatest weakness is melee weapons. Give him a bow any day but with a sword? A knife, even? He’s more likely to accidentally stab himself. The only use his hunting knife sees is to skin animals and to cut up his dinner.

-Another weakness is the scar on his back. Though fully healed, the sword that created it damaged some nerves and he occasionally experiences tremendous pain in his back, sometimes even in inopportune moments and usually when straining his back too much. He needs to rub an ointment on it and perform some stretches daily to stave off the pain.

Biography

Kivan grew up with his parents in the outskirts of Novigrad outside the city’s legendary walls. Though his home was a broken down shack with its walls dotted with graffiti, he wouldn't trade it for the world. When he was very young he got along well with the local children, especially seeing as he was quite a sociable and bubbly person, however that quickly changed. Young children did not care for the differences of races, yet they are quickly taught by example from their parents. His human friends slowly started to cut him off, and as they grew older, the insults started. Cruel jibes were thrown at him that he was a bastard, neither elf nor human, unwanted by both. The children sneered and laughed at the sight of his pointed ears and angular facial structure as well as scrawny build. Kivan snapped when one of the larger kids once threatened to slice off the points of his ears with a knife and flew into a rage, beating the boys black and blue, though getting quite a beating in return.

He returned home, bruised, sniffling and upset and pleaded with his elven father, who used to be a ranegr with the Scoia'tael until he fell in love with a human, to teach him how to fight. And so his training with the bow began at the ripe age of eleven. He took to it like a fish took to water to say the least. He started ignoring the locals’ jibes and insults, knowing that he could turn them into pincushions if he wanted. He knew that was wrong however, having inherited his mother’s gentle nature. Instead he started pranking and playing jokes on the humans, often landing them in embarrassing situations. He also got a facial tattoo when he was 20 to further distance himself from the others as it enhanced his elven facial structure. Unfortunately he went too far when he accidentally set fire to one of them, leading to the victim to get serious third degree burns. This prompted the locals to demand that the young 20 year old be banished from their midst. Kivan, not wanting trouble, packed up his bags and the elven bow given to him by his father, bid his family farewell and left his home.

At first he thought he could find an elven settlement and find acceptance among the Elder race, however his hopes were quickly shot down by the distrust and disgust his elven brethren showed him, showing that they were no different from the humans they pretended to be better than. So he left, wandering from town to village to city to forest, until his wanderings led him to the king of Redania’s hunting grounds, where he got caught poaching. The humans caught him while a hunting party led by the king caught him unawares while shooting a boar cleanly in the eye and one of the king’s men sliced him across the back during the scuffle. The king however was impressed with Kivan’s shot and decided to hire him as a hunter on a whim. He ordered for Kivan to be tended to and once he was sufficiently healed by the court's sorceress, he started his duties as the king’s huntsman and ranger, providing the meat for the king’s table and also providing protection against predators like wolves and bears and the occasional, rare monster such as drowners. He was by no means accepted by the court however, as racism and discrimination ran rampant among the nobility, and the king, amused by it all, did nothing to change it. Kivan however was glad that he had somewhere to settle and earn a small living, even if it was at the service of humans.

The sorceress who healed his back, Liliana, became somewhat of a friend over the years. Feeling grateful to her for healing him from the otherwise paralizing at best, fatal at worst injury, he offered to accompany her as a guard whenever she needed one. She was also the one who provided him with the ointment for his scar and she looked him over whenever it bothered him too much. A friendship blossomed between the two as a result.

​

Spoiler: Mobile friendly version

Kivan Il-Khan

General Info:

Age: 32
Race: Half-elf
Gender: Male
Languages: Fluent in Elder speech and Common, knows some Dwarvish swear words.
Sexuality: Bisexual
Profession: Hunter and ranger for the Redanian King, occasional guard for the court sorceress.

Appearance:

Kivan inherited more elven features than human. He has the classical elven ears, high cheekbones and a sharp jaw, a near spitting image of his elven father. From his human mother he inherited a tanned skin colour, contrasting with his normally pale elven kin, and her fine, chestnut locks which reached to his shoulders. He stands at a towering six feet and three inches, yet another trait from his elven heritage. He is long limbed and has a lean, lanky build and is very light footed. His eyes, like his mother’s, were a stormy grey. They are usually bright with amusement and a spark of intelligence and cunning is hidden in their depths. A distinguishing feature of his is the blue facial tattoo he had gotten which seemed to enhance the elven features of his face. Other than a few scars scattered here and there, the only notable one he has is a large angry looking one diagonal across his back from right shoulder to left hip.

In terms of clothing, he generally prefers light yet durable leather armor, worn over a green tunic with brown accents. He generally wears dark brown hunting trousers as well as knee high leather boots and dark leather, fingerless gauntlets. Completing his ensemble is usually a dark green cloak fastened at his chest with a metal brooch depicting a leaf. He typically wears a hoop earring at his right ear lobe and has some beads woven into select locks of his hair.

Personality:

Kivan is generally a pretty cheerful person, preferring to fight the world’s darkness and despair with pranks and practical jokes. He generally seems to shrug off insults, having been the target of them his whole life he was quite used to them and didn’t let them affect him, at least not on the surface.

This didn’t mean he was a pushover by any means. Like everyone, even he has his limits and has no qualms with teaching particularly mean people a lesson with his fists.

Surface impressions can be deceiving however. Deep down he’s a tortured soul feeling unwanted and hated by all, both humans and elves. When it comes down to it, his light heartedness is a mask. A layer in the many walls he has surrounded himself with. Hidden behind those walls is an icy heart, easily shattered by all the cruelty that had been shown to him by the world. He has major self-esteem issues, believing himself worthless and unlovable. He also had trust issues. How could he trust anyone if literally the only trustworthy people he ever knew were his parents?

Kivan always had a way with words and was quite the skilled liar. However he only put that skill to use if necessary as he generally disliked doing it unless it was to prank someone or play a trick on them. He was a gentle person by nature, avoiding violence if possible, though could be quite fierce and vindictive if wrongly provoked. He was also quite proud, and found difficulty with admitting his wrongs.

He could also be quite the annoying person, seeming immature and childish sometimes. He also has a bad habit of making inappropriate jokes during sad or grim situations, thought not through any malicious intentions. It was simply how he dealt with such events. He has a talent for controlling and masking his emotions from others, and is capable of seeming happy or indifferent even if he's devastated on the inside. He isn't good at sharing his true feelings, he would rather bottle everything up and forget about it.

Despite his attitude, he knows the value of being serious when it counted and he isn't completely tactless.

Skills and abilities:

Kivan’s main skill and talent is that of archery. He can do wonders with a bow whether he is on foot, horseback or perched on a tree. He is an excellent sniper as well as skilled at rapid firing as long as there is sufficient distance between him and his targets. He is also somewhat alright at hand to hand combat, and can handle himself in a brawl, but he certainly avoids those if he can.

Due to being a ranger, he is quite experienced at tracking his prey. Though his skills are nowhere near those of witchers, he is considered a master by normal standards amongst both humans and non-humans. He also is a penchant for climbing trees and buildings, having been an avid climber in his youth. Kivan is also adept at herbal knowledge as his mother was somewhat of a herbalist and he often went with her on outings to gather wild herbs and mushrooms as well as aid her in tending to their small garden. He applies this knowledge by mixing poisons to lace his arrows with, making them twice as deadly.

Flaws and weaknesses:

-Kivan loves pranks. Unfortunately he also has low self-control when it comes to them and sometimes goes overboard with them, as well as his jokes which could sometimes come off as cruel.

-While an excellent hunter, he’s absolute crap at cooking the food he caught.

-His greatest weakness is melee weapons. Give him a bow any day but with a sword? A knife, even? He’s more likely to accidentally stab himself. The only use his hunting knife sees is to skin animals and to cut up his dinner.

-Another weakness is the scar on his back. Though fully healed, the sword that created it damaged some nerves and he occasionally experiences tremendous pain in his back, sometimes even in inopportune moments and usually when straining his back too much. He needs to rub an ointment on it and perform some stretches daily to stave off the pain.

Biography:

Kivan grew up with his parents in the outskirts of Novigrad outside the city’s legendary walls. Though his home was a broken down shack with its walls dotted with graffiti, he wouldn’t trade it for the world. When he was very young he got along well with the local children, especially seeing as he was quite a sociable and bubbly person, however that quickly changed. Young children did not care for the differences of races, yet they are quickly taught by example from their parents. His human friends slowly started to cut him off, and as they grew older, the insults started. Cruel jibes were thrown at him that he was a bastard, neither elf nor human, unwanted by both. The children sneered and laughed at the sight of his pointed ears and angular facial structure as well as scrawny build. Kivan snapped when one of the larger kids once threatened to slice off the points of his ears with a knife and flew into a rage, beating the boys black and blue, though getting quite a beating in return.

He returned home, sniffling and upset and pleaded with his elven father, who used to be a ranger with the Scoia'tael until he fell in love with a human, to teach him how to fight. And so his training with the bow began at the ripe age of eleven. He took to it like a fish took to water to say the least. He started ignoring the locals’ jibes and insults, knowing that he could turn them into pincushions if he wanted. He knew that was wrong however, having inherited his mother’s gentle nature. Instead he started pranking and playing jokes on the humans, often landing them in embarrassing situations. He also got a facial tattoo when he was 20 to further distance himself from the others as it enhanced his elven facial structure. Unfortunately he went too far when he accidentally set fire to one of them, leading to the victim to get serious third degree burns. This prompted the locals to demand that the young 20 year old be banished from their midst. Kivan, not wanting trouble, packed up his bags and the elven bow given to him by his father, bid his family farewell and left his home.

At first he thought he could find an elven settlement and find acceptance among the Elder race, however his hopes were quickly shot down by the distrust and disgust his elven brethren showed him, showing that they were no different from the humans they pretended to be better than. So he left, wandering from town to village to city to forest, until his wanderings led him to the king of Redania’s hunting grounds, where he got caught poaching. The humans caught him while a hunting party led by the king caught him unawares while shooting a boar cleanly in the eye and one of the king’s men sliced him across the back during the scuffle. The king however was impressed with Kivan’s shot and decided to hire him as a hunter on a whim. He ordered for Kivan to be tended to and once he was sufficiently healed by the court's sorceress, he started his duties as the king’s huntsman and ranger, providing the meat for the king’s table and also providing protection against predators like wolves and bears and the occasional, rare monster such as drowners. He was by no means accepted by the court however, as racism and discrimination ran rampant among the nobility, and the king, amused by it all, did nothing to change it. Kivan however was glad that he had somewhere to settle and earn a small living, even if it was at the service of humans.

The sorceress who healed his back, Liliana, became somewhat of a friend over the years. Feeling grateful to her for healing him from the otherwise paralizing at best, fatal at worst injury, he offered to accompany her as a guard whenever she needed one. She was also the one who provided him with the ointment for his scar and she looked him over whenever it bothered him too much. A friendship blossomed between the two as a result.

 

[MrThe]

Dang, that character sheet is not very mobile friendly.

 

[MrThe]

Griznir Straglobaand ​

General Information

Age: 30
Race: Human
Gender: Male
Languages: Common
Sexuality: Heterosexual
Profession: Mercenary/Butcher/Cook

Appearance

Griznir is a muscular, heavily scarred individual with a military bearing. He has a short beard and reddish-brown hair. About 6 feet tall and pretty stocky, Griznir is an intimidating presence. Always armed and often accompanied by one or more of his three hounds.

Personality

Griznir is a dour and pessimistic sort. He is extremely serious and rarely cracks a smile. He is very direct, always cutting straight to the chase. Although a hard man, Straglobaand has a soft spot for dogs viewing them as far more reliable and trustworthy than his fellow men. He's very observant, extremely patient, ruthless and highly calculating. He is also selfish in the extreme, having very little regard for others. Perhaps it was the harsh treatment by his father, being in the company of mercenaries with loose morals, or both. Or perhaps he was always this way but was just waiting for the monster inside to be unleashed. Regardless, Griznir Straglobaand is most definitely in possession of a damaged psyche. Not to say he is unstable but he most certainly has a skewed moral compass and possibly has anti-social personality disorder.

Skills and Abilities

Griznir is a master combatant trained in the use of the pike, spear, longsword, and shield and is nifty with a dagger as well. He also is a great cook and a master forager, able to rustle up a meal from just about anything.

Flaws and Weaknesses

Griznir is a vicious and violent man who needs little provocation to simply run you through.

Biography

Griznir is a Redanian by birth, the son of a Butcher, early on he learned how to prepare meat and it was not limited to the usual livestock. His father was a cruel and avaricious man and thus not opposed to selling less than quality meat, he never could find a way to mask the taste of drowner or ghoul but if he did you'd be sure he would have sold it in a heartbeat. In addition to his less than reputable practices, Draigo Straglobaand was a drunkard and would constantly beat his wife and three kids, of which Griznir was the eldest. One day Griznir simply had enough so when his father lay in a drunken stupor he took one of the many butcher's knives and slit his throat. After that, he joined up with a group of mercenaries near the Temerian Border.

Ultosts Uglies definitely lived up to the name. Blackguards and Blaggards the lot of them, no more than bandits really, when he first joined up they treated him not much better than his old man did. That was until he proved himself when out on a raid. Griznir managed to silently assassinate an entire caravan before even his fellow bandits could draw their blades. Though they did lament the fact that he killed the women before they could have their "fun" with them, they finally began to respect him, more out of fear than anything else. And so that was how Griznir spent his early teenage years, eking out an existence at the edge of civilization in danger of both the law and the beasts that shared the woods with them. By the time he was 16 though Griznir was a hardened killer and was getting sick of living as a bandit, so it was high time that he turned this ragged band of cutthroats into proper soldiers. The first step was to kill Ultost and take control, so he did exactly that. He walked right up to Ultost and stabbed him in the back. No one decided to challenge his authority after that.

Soon enough with the help of a few deserters from the regular Army of both Redania and Temeria, he transformed Ultosts Uglies into Griznirs Grizzlies, modelling them after the Landsknecht, if the Landsknecht wore heavy armor that is. A highly regimented band of mercenaries every bit as ruthless and cruel they were before, but this time they were highly disciplined, well trained ruthless and cruel killers. It was just his luck that right after he forged his band into a proper company, a massive war started up and mercenaries all of a sudden were in high demand, and well-trained mercenaries came at a premium. Problem was that by the end of the Contract only a few men of the original gang were left. That was fine at first when they were filthy rich for all of three weeks before they blew it all in women and alcohol. Soon as the Money ran dry just about every single new recruit left for another company. Now all he had left were his old pals from the banditry days and that wasn't enough. Next time he would keep an iron fist on the purse strings while between jobs, but right now he needed a job. That is until he heard about the Curse.

​

 

[revalia]

Coded by revalia | Hidden Scrolls

Lady Liliana

of Tretogor

About Herself...

✾ Name|| Liliana Rosa DeGarde
✾ Alias/Title || Lady Liliana of Tretogor
✾ Age|| Eighty Four
✾ Race || Human
✾ Gender|| Female
✾ Sexuality|| Heterosexual
✾ Occupation|| Sorceress (Healer & Alchemist) - Court Wizard to the Redenian King and his family

Her Appearance...

Liliana is a very petite looking young maiden who stands at around the height of five feet and five inches. Unfortunately non of her parents escalated when it came to height, more or less, she was around their own height in fact. It was after all, her biggest insecurity to begin with. Her skin is best described as porcelain, pale and smooth which complements her eyes rather well, light grey in color. Hair long and very wispy and fine, like silk. Silk which was jet black in color, contrasting quite evidently against her skin. It was usually very hard to keep in a proper hairstyle so she typically lets it either hand loose or tied loosely in a side braid. If feeling festive she would adorn it with a nice lily.
Her body posses no tattoos nor any piercings. Not even a scar with a story to tell, to her disappointment. However if you had to pinpoint Liliana's distinguished features would be; her small button nose, a rush of small tiny freckles running over the bridge of her nose and a small wave like birthmark behind her left ear. The female typically wore quite gowns with high quality materials and silky capes. Adorned in leisure and richness. That was until she had no choice but going to lower standards to blend in with the common folk. Resulting for the young girl to wear the common rags that they called a dress. Made out of wool and a manky leather corset round her waist. Matching with her leather boots who were rather, beaten or so to speak.

Her Personality...

Lilana is one modest and naive female. It's the first thing that anyone who knows her or sees her would say. However, Lily does make a good and decent friend to those she meets and gets the chance to know as she eventually always proves herself rather faithful and loyal to her companions. Some folk tend to use that to their advantage which may lead to them deceiving her or hurting her. She loves giving anyone the benefit of the doubt. Especially growing up, which life situations she encountered led her to learn and overcome her naive self, not eliminate, simply minimizing it. Replacing it with responsibility and understanding.
Right off the bet, Lily can be rather spirited and determined. She loves to follow the motto; If you can dream it, you can do it, hence, where her determination actually comes from. This was built ever since she was just a child. Due to her parents having a tight hold on her and what to believe, it simply didn't ring for her. Upon growing, becoming her own age and earning her own knowledge, she embraced her own beliefs and set off to find her own way and not one that was simply forged. However, Liliana was a person who loved company of others, absolutely hating on having to staying alone for a long period. So she tried occupying herself in the things she loved doing most; her healing, alchemy and music.

Her Abilities...

✾ Abilities|| Healing - a magic spell which immediately closes open wounds / Teleportation - Portal Opening / Water Mastery
✾ Skills|| Alchemy which includes vast potions and poisons / Playing the flute (even the lute and drums) / Vast knowledge when it comes to herbs and apothecary in general
✾ Weaknesses|| Lack of knowledge when it comes to handling weapons / Even though she can defend herself she is not quite experienced in being the offensive type of the field, due to playing a healing/medical role
✾ Flaws|| She over-trusts or simply trusts to easily / Due to her reckless and personally traits, sneaking around is not really her best asset / Her healing, the bigger the wound, the harder and more draining it gets on her

Her Story...

Lady Liliana of Tretogor was born to Rosa Maria and Juliano DeGarde, a noble family in Tretogor, Redenia. Well-know even. As much as she loved the certain attention, she wished she had her own little quiet shell where she could simply spend time with her own self. Being raised, her parents and her always had quite the close relationship, until Liliana, as little as was had discovered she had magic. She was a sorceress. Ever since then, there was a certain scorn that habituated on her parent's face that she simply did not like. Magic was banned from the household. She was a human, they told her. No need for magic to live, they proceeded. Magic was simply a mere curiosity for her. She was gifted with something special. Why not utilize it?
After years and years of heating the same biblical sentences that were practically engraved in her mind, Liliana simply got fed up. Living almost her teenage years under the cloaks of her parents was not quite the life she had envisioned for herself to be. As much as patient as she was, she decided it was best for her own self to take the metaphorical reigns in her life and ride. With her own rules. And so she did.
Liliana prepared a small satchel with any necessary equipment she so needed for her journey, together with a share of crowns she needed as an entrance fee and also for any nourishment along the way and headed towards Thanedd Island where she would enter the Aretuza College along with other young ladies her age at that time to get a good grasp on what she was deprived from throughout her life till then. Her journey proved to be quite difficult, especially for a rich noble like her whom never had any idea of what travelling actually was and how hard it was than simply walking. If it wasn't for a kind soul, a merchant, that aided her to reach her destination, she wouldn't have even made it to Arteuza. Definitely not.
Years and years passed over her as she was an occupant on the island throughout her studies, becoming an adept herself, mastering her water element and not to mention enriching her healing which were her area of expertise when magic was involved. It showed her path was for her to be a healer. Combining with her herbal knowledge and alchemy skills she shined. Defensive excelled however offensive was nowhere near perfect. It was not her forte to say the least. Then again her expertise in alchemy and healing were enough for her. She focused on them and strengthened them. Her years in this school had proved to be healthy in exploring the part of her she did not know. In fact she quite enjoyed the fact she was a sorceress... all except one crucial fact. Her infertility.
With this in mind, the female sort of had a downfall when it came to anything magical related. She even stopped her schooling experience, deeming she had managed to learn what she needed and in fact she had... everything but anything related to offensive magic (she was hopeless in such areas). Having halted her studies the female decided she would simply go back to her old ways, back in Tretogor, her native place. Doing what she does best, as a simple alchemy/apothecary shop owner or a bard, due to her passion of playing instruments, including the flute. The discovery that she was unable to bare children took a toll on her. The whole journey back to Redania. Even though it was not that long via teleportation. It was less hectic.
Upon reaching the age of fifty, the female remained beautifully young as ever. Contemplating and contemplating, she tried looking past that fact and embraced it. Or at least tried. Not quite an easy task. Apart from her healing and alchemy role, the female managed to be scooped up by a noble family as their magic adviser. Serving them for almost fifteen years. Her excellence in her work cause the lord of the family she served, recommended her to serve as court wizard to the Redenian King to which she decided it was worth the try. So she did. It took quite a while for the decision to be taken nonetheless, it came. It was then, at the age of sixty-four, Liliana was appointed as a court wizard/adviser to King Randal of Redenia and his family. The not so young female had entered the King's confines just around the time that his eldest daughter, Evy was born. Remembering the little princess ever since she was a mere toddler, caring for her, her medicines. Seeing the young princess, helped the ease of not having her own child which aided Lily, morally, quite a lot. Now, at the age of eighty-four, still beautiful and young as ever, Liliana is still loyal to the Royal Family and is still working at the courts herself.

Spoiler: Mobile Friendly

About Herself...

✾ Name|| Liliana Rosa DeGarde
✾ Alias/Title || Lady Liliana of Tretogor
✾ Age|| Eighty Four
✾ Race || Human
✾ Gender|| Female
✾ Sexuality|| Heterosexual
✾ Occupation|| Sorceress (Healer & Alchemist) - Court Wizard to the Redenian King and his family

Her Appearance...

Liliana is a very petite looking young maiden who stands at around the height of five feet and five inches. Unfortunately non of her parents escalated when it came to height, more or less, she was around their own height in fact. It was after all, her biggest insecurity to begin with. Her skin is best described as porcelain, pale and smooth which complements her eyes rather well, light grey in color. Hair long and very wispy and fine, like silk. Silk which was jet black in color, contrasting quite evidently against her skin. It was usually very hard to keep in a proper hairstyle so she typically lets it either hand loose or tied loosely in a side braid. If feeling festive she would adorn it with a nice lily.
Her body posses no tattoos nor any piercings. Not even a scar with a story to tell, to her disappointment. However if you had to pinpoint Liliana's distinguished features would be; her small button nose, a rush of small tiny freckles running over the bridge of her nose and a small wave like birthmark behind her left ear. The female typically wore quite gowns with high quality materials and silky capes. Adorned in leisure and richness. That was until she had no choice but going to lower standards to blend in with the common folk. Resulting for the young girl to wear the common rags that they called a dress. Made out of wool and a manky leather corset round her waist. Matching with her leather boots who were rather, beaten or so to speak.

Her Personality...

Lilana is one modest and naive female. It's the first thing that anyone who knows her or sees her would say. However, Lily does make a good and decent friend to those she meets and gets the chance to know as she eventually always proves herself rather faithful and loyal to her companions. Some folk tend to use that to their advantage which may lead to them deceiving her or hurting her. She loves giving anyone the benefit of the doubt. Especially growing up, which life situations she encountered led her to learn and overcome her naive self, not eliminate, simply minimizing it. Replacing it with responsibility and understanding.
Right off the bet, Lily can be rather spirited and determined. She loves to follow the motto; If you can dream it, you can do it, hence, where her determination actually comes from. This was built ever since she was just a child. Due to her parents having a tight hold on her and what to believe, it simply didn't ring for her. Upon growing, becoming her own age and earning her own knowledge, she embraced her own beliefs and set off to find her own way and not one that was simply forged. However, Liliana was a person who loved company of others, absolutely hating on having to staying alone for a long period. So she tried occupying herself in the things she loved doing most; her healing, alchemy and music.

Her Abilities...

✾ Abilities|| Healing - a magic spell which immediately closes open wounds / Teleportation - Portal Opening / Water Mastery
✾ Skills|| Alchemy which includes vast potions and poisons / Playing the flute (even the lute and drums) / Vast knowledge when it comes to herbs and apothecary in general
✾ Weaknesses|| Lack of knowledge when it comes to handling weapons / Even though she can defend herself she is not quite experienced in being the offensive type of the field, due to playing a healing/medical role
✾ Flaws|| She over-trusts or simply trusts to easily / Due to her reckless and personally traits, sneaking around is not really her best asset / Her healing, the bigger the wound, the harder and more draining it gets on her

Her Story...

Lady Liliana of Tretogor was born to Rosa Maria and Juliano DeGarde, a noble family in Tretogor, Redenia. Well-know even. As much as she loved the certain attention, she wished she had her own little quiet shell where she could simply spend time with her own self. Being raised, her parents and her always had quite the close relationship, until Liliana, as little as was had discovered she had magic. She was a sorceress. Ever since then, there was a certain scorn that habituated on her parent's face that she simply did not like. Magic was banned from the household. She was a human, they told her. No need for magic to live, they proceeded. Magic was simply a mere curiosity for her. She was gifted with something special. Why not utilize it?

After years and years of heating the same biblical sentences that were practically engraved in her mind, Liliana simply got fed up. Living almost her teenage years under the cloaks of her parents was not quite the life she had envisioned for herself to be. As much as patient as she was, she decided it was best for her own self to take the metaphorical reigns in her life and ride. With her own rules. And so she did.

Liliana prepared a small satchel with any necessary equipment she so needed for her journey, together with a share of crowns she needed as an entrance fee and also for any nourishment along the way and headed towards Thanedd Island where she would enter the Aretuza College along with other young ladies her age at that time to get a good grasp on what she was deprived from throughout her life till then. Her journey proved to be quite difficult, especially for a rich noble like her whom never had any idea of what travelling actually was and how hard it was than simply walking. If it wasn't for a kind soul, a merchant, that aided her to reach her destination, she wouldn't have even made it to Arteuza. Definitely not.

Years and years passed over her as she was an occupant on the island throughout her studies, becoming an adept herself, mastering her water element and not to mention enriching her healing which were her area of expertise when magic was involved. It showed her path was for her to be a healer. Combining with her herbal knowledge and alchemy skills she shined. Defensive excelled however offensive was nowhere near perfect. It was not her forte to say the least. Then again her expertise in alchemy and healing were enough for her. She focused on them and strengthened them. Her years in this school had proved to be healthy in exploring the part of her she did not know. In fact she quite enjoyed the fact she was a sorceress... all except one crucial fact. Her infertility.

With this in mind, the female sort of had a downfall when it came to anything magical related. She even stopped her schooling experience, deeming she had managed to learn what she needed and in fact she had... everything but anything related to offensive magic (she was hopeless in such areas). Having halted her studies the female decided she would simply go back to her old ways, back in Tretogor, her native place. Doing what she does best, as a simple alchemy/apothecary shop owner or a bard, due to her passion of playing instruments, including the flute. The discovery that she was unable to bare children took a toll on her. The whole journey back to Redania. Even though it was not that long via teleportation. It was less hectic.

Upon reaching the age of fifty, the female remained beautifully young as ever. Contemplating and contemplating, she tried looking past that fact and embraced it. Or at least tried. Not quite an easy task. Apart from her healing and alchemy role, the female managed to be scooped up by a noble family as their magic adviser. Serving them for almost fifteen years. Her excellence in her work cause the lord of the family she served, recommended her to serve as court wizard to the Redenian King to which she decided it was worth the try. So she did. It took quite a while for the decision to be taken nonetheless, it came. It was then, at the age of sixty-four, Liliana was appointed as a court wizard/adviser to King Randal of Redenia and his family. The not so young female had entered the King's confines just around the time that his eldest daughter, Evy was born. Remembering the little princess ever since she was a mere toddler, caring for her, her medicines. Seeing the young princess, helped the ease of not having her own child which aided Lily, morally, quite a lot. Now, at the age of eighty-four, still beautiful and young as ever, Liliana is still loyal to the Royal Family and is still working at the courts herself. ​

 

[Chanticleer]

Name: Dinah

Age: Several hundred years old, the exact number has been lost to time.

Race: Other (Godling)

Spoiler: Godling

Physiology:

Godlings range from 3 to 5 feet tall, with mottled blue skin, wrinkled features and large eyes which are typically blue, black, or yellow in colour. They have two rows of small but incredibly sharp teeth, accustomed to biting through bones, roots and the tough shells of nuts. They share some traits with the humans such as hair colour and the number of fingers and toes. Their nails are black and are usually pointed and tough to break. All of the Godlings still present are hundreds of years old, originating from the Conjunction of the Spheres or from the complex and poorly documented mating rituals that they were able to do whilst their population was still fairly large. Nowadays, you’d be lucky to even see more than 2 Godlings in the same province; their playful and curious disposition has made them into dinner for a whole host of monsters over the years.

Godlings are usually prey rather than predators, so depending on their usual activities various senses can be magically heightened through centuries of use. Concerning combat, Godlings tend to avoid fighting whenever possible because they have the strength of a human child when fighting with their bare hands. They can leave a nasty bite or two, but it is largely ineffective against the monsters that roam the lands. This may also be a reason why Godlings are naturally light-footed - stealth is their forté because they don’t have many other ways to defend themselves.

Spellcraft:

For this section some good inspiration came from faeries, particularly the Seelie court in Celtic mythology. Godlings can cast magic but in a very weakened form. Godlings can only tolerate a certain amount of Chaos, after all, and their bodies physically prevent them from trying to cast spells that are too potent for their tiny frames to handle. Overuse of magic leaves Godlings in a state of drowsiness, where they need to sleep in order to regain enough strength to cast again. Because their bodies tend to control the level of power that a Godling can cast, the chances of a backfiring spell are miniscule.

Godlings specialise in illusion magic. The ability to warp the senses and twist one’s perception of reality is incredibly useful when you’ve been hunted for so long. Their spells may not be the strongest but they are typically the most efficient - a Godling’s magic can rival that of a druid’s if they focus all of their efforts into a very localised, very short range spell. Godlings innately share the ability to cast basic illusions upon themselves as a means of self preservation. Most are able to make themselves temporarily invisible or appear like a human child, but only in appearance; their smell, voice, even their footprints look like a Godling’s.

Gender: Female

Appearance: Dinah stands at around 3 feet 5 inches. She has the pot-belly of a starving child and mottled blueish skin, marked with black ink tattoos that has long since faded into a dark violet. They are nothing more than simple lines that trail the contours of her body. Her features are lined with wrinkles; she has no eyebrows to frame those dark liquidy eyes and thin lips that do little to hide the sharp teeth behind them. Even her tongue was a horrid violet colour to match the tattoos.

Her hair is a tangled sheet of black, having never seen a brush in centuries. It hangs limply down her back and trails over her shoulders to scrape across her collarbone. Intertwined in her hair are twigs and seashells. She owns no real clothes for herself and instead wears a large potato sack with a grubby and wrinkled pink ribbon around the waist. When she gets away with it, she wears no shoes.

Dinah’s disguise breathes life back into the godling. She looks, for all intents and purposes, exactly like a six year old girl with long dark hair, dark eyes and a comfortable layer of puppy fat. When disguised, she changes into the clothes her guardian has provided; an ankle length skirt, a dark green shirt with a waistcoat and a bonnet to partially obscure her face as it is often the first part of her to start changing as her disguise runs out of steam.

Personality: Dinah is more inquisitive than mischievous. The incessant barrage of questions that she asks can be annoying at best, maddening at worst; she delights in being able to talk to people and has a particularly soft spot for stories. That said, her curiosity is tempered by a wariness that has been cultivated over centuries and comes out as an acute timidity that makes her jumpy, anxious and often dependent on others to keep her calm. She is playful when she is relaxed, often trying to convince even the hardiest of warriors to play tag or hide and seek with her when she knows she is safe.

Nevertheless, the traditions and social quirks of a Godling firmly separate her from being an odd-looking human child. For example, Dinah is fiercely territorial of her den and will attack anyone that attempts to trespass into it. Like most Godlings, Dinah is easily offended and will go out of her way to inconvenience the offender’s life even if it is counterproductive to her own goals. She’s a shrewd negotiator and never does anything without the promise of a reward - even then, if she can wheedle the reward out first she’ll be more than happy to simply ignore the request entirely. She often occupies herself with the creation of little trinkets and charms out of sticks, grasses and shells and takes great pride in her work.

The complexities of human society are largely ignored by Dinah. She doesn’t respond to authority through lands or titles, she cannot wrap her head around the concept of currency and finds the human law system to be a confusing set of rules that she doesn’t feel the need to follow. During her travels she has picked up on the bare essentials through the teachings of her guardian - just enough to get by if she’s cornered into a situation with humans. For the most part, Dinah attempts to stay away from humanity by hiding.

Flaws and Weaknesses:
Drowsy: Dinah uses her magic quite liberally, and as a result she needs to sleep more than your typical godling. She often takes naps throughout the day and becomes more active at night.

Weak: Dinah isn’t a fighter, and she has the physique of a child. Lifting heavy objects and throwing punches isn’t her forté. On the other hand, just because she isn’t strong doesn’t mean she can’t make up for it in speed…

Easily Frightened: Dinah gets spooked quite easily and she doesn’t handle fear all too well. When she gets worked up, she needs calming down else she’ll run away - regardless of the consequences.

Sensitive Sniffer: Because her sense of smell is so sensitive, powerful perfumes or scents are enough to disorient her until they lose their potency. It can even be painful if the smell is strong enough.

Monster Among Men: She’s a Godling. Nine times out of ten, she is treated with hostility - to the point of being attacked. If she isn’t hidden, disguised or protected, it could be fatal for her.

Foggy: Dinah’s memory is a bit wobbly at best. Sometimes Dinah will forget important information, be it due to her miniscule attention span or just being plain forgetful.

Skills and Abilities:
Monster Among Monsters: As a Godling, most monsters who aren’t overly aggressive or particularly hungry tend to treat Dinah with general indifference. Dinah can use this to her advantage by being able to talk to the sentient ones for her companions, or sneak past the ones that would usually go for humans.

A Nose for This Sort of Thing: Dinah stands out due to her impeccable sense of smell. Since she has been alive for so long, she is able to decipher a whole host of creatures, plants and objects just from the smell alone, as well as how old the scent is.

Now You See Me…: Innate to most Godlings is the ability to cast minor illusion magic as a survival tactic. Dinah is able to cast illusions upon herself; these are limited to invisibility and disguising herself as a human. Since these spells are so simple, she can hold them for a few hours before they start to falter.

Midsummer Naps: a spell for sleep inducement. Dinah gathers her energy into her hands, crushes it and blows, sending a fine powder across a short range. Those who breathe it in feel lethargic and dizzy - after a few decent lungfuls it can make someone fall asleep. The larger you are, the more powder is required to knock you out. The effects only last 15-45 minutes if actively resisted; if willing, the spell is an effective sleep aid. Dinah tends to only produce enough powder to knock out one or two fully grown humans and as it disperses, it loses its potency, meaning the spell must be cast in short range to even be effective in the first place.

Dream Dancer: One of the most powerful spells Dinah has in her arsenal is the manipulation of dreams, but only to a limited extent. This spell has a longer range; an unprotected sleeper with no magical wards within her field of vision can be susceptible to her trickery. Most of the time she merely hops in and intrudes on someone else's dreams - at best, she can turn a bad dream into a good one (though hypothetically capable of turning good dreams into bad ones, she has no interest in nightmares and wouldn't do it unless bargained with) but often only alters the dream to facilitate her intrusion.

This spell can be used in a myriad of ways. For starters, dreamers tend to not be lucid when they are dreaming and typically accept Dinah's presence as normal and will tell the truth (or at least their perception of the truth) in their dreams, making it a good way to gather information. The content of one's dreams represents their psychological state and tends to reveal preferences, fears, ambitions or memories. Dinah can, to a basic degree, interpret the content of a dream to garner any additional information about the dreamer - she often does this to the villagers in her charge, to get to the bottom of those recurring nightmares or give out advice based on their subconscious desires. Animals and insentient monsters dream too; it can be the only way to glean information from creatures one would not consider capable of recounting what they have seen.

The spell is a dangerous one to cast. Dreams in and of themselves tend to only last a handful of minutes in the waking world and the moment Dinah intrudes she immediately loses consciousness. If the dreamer is woken up or somehow manages to realise that Dinah is intruding before Dinah has the chance to leave the spell backfires onto herself, trapping her in her own nightmares until her head is dunked three times into a body of water. Since it is a powerful spell she cannot cast it involuntarily, and often has supervision in the waking world to ensure she doesn't waste away in her sleep, trapped and unable to awaken.

Profession or Station: Godling.

Spoiler: Warning: Fairly long backstory ahead!

When you’re an ageless, childish woodland spirit, your retention of memory tends to distort itself over the centuries. Her story is unremarkable in Godling terms, but somewhat interesting for the humans who bothered to ask her about what she had been doing for so long. Dinah’s story started where most Godlings’ tales began; with the conjunction of spheres, over a thousand years ago. She awoke in a strange land surrounded by her kin and spent decades in a nostalgic paradise, playing tricks and frolicking in the twisted undergrowth with a variety of playmates to amuse herself with.

It was only as the races began to establish themselves and her predators increased in size and number that Dinah began to feel her inferiority in the food chain. The initial slaughter of her species was brutal; they were underprepared, too careless and hadn’t yet learned the hard lesson of survival. Dinah was always a fidgety sort though, and she had the common sense to start preparing for the worst. One could say that in comparison to her friends she was the more sensible one, but then again a sensible Godling is a paradox; she was merely aware that she needed to look after her own wellbeing if she wanted to keep playing with her friends. Dinah was part of the smaller portion of Godlings who had their priorities straight, and she survived the first culling by hiding in a rocky crevasse near the sea. There she made friends with some local sirens, who only tolerated her antics because she would make jewellery for them out of seashells and kelp fronds that they gave to her. Her diet consisted of raw fish, shellfish and whatever poor seagull came to roost too close to her first den, but it was terribly lonely as she could not swim to her friends and the erosion of the cliffs was bringing the icy seawater too close to her home.

One day, in the dead of night, she left her trinkets behind and moved further inland. For once, she started to reach out to the natives of the world; dwarves were more welcoming to her tricks than the elves, who dismissed her at best or chased her away at worst. Gnomes seemed to be the most enjoyable out of the trio as they were more interested in Dinah as a Godling than as a playmate. Nevertheless, where she found charity she’d settle near the village and toy with the locals for a while. Her favourite games were tag, and hide and seek; she was speedier than most and her invisibility, coupled with her heightened sense of smell, made her excell in both of these games. She took offerings of food and shelter and in return kept an eye on the villages at night, using her sense of smell to forewarn the local guards of any danger that was on the wind. She passed several centuries this way.

As time passed, humanity began to spread like a parasite across the land. Dinah had a few run ins with humanity in its earliest settlements but regarded them with contempt as she cobbled the human race in with the monsters that were all too keen to eat her the first time she went head to head with them. Eventually, reluctantly, she found no other option than to approach as cautiously as she could. The first town she came across was a riverside fishing village who found Dinah to be endearing in her own funny way; they taught her how to swim and she repaid them with good dreams and an even better watchdog than the old hounds their militia were using. She lived in the basement of the tavern for generations, playing with the villager's children, their children's children, and so on. Yet the humans were forgetful; after a while their descendants started to take her work for granted and she angrily sent nightmares to the ingrates. This persisted for a couple of months before the select villagers she had decided to torment had gone half-mad from the lack of sleep and rallied the village into hunting Dinah down. Were it not for the quick thinking of an elderly couple, she would have been a rotting corpse in that basement.

Offended and outraged, Dinah decided that giving her services in exchange for shelter wasn't good enough anymore. She followed the river down a valley and dug out a warren under the sapling of an oak tree, coming out at night to forage. In her solitude she took to making stick dolls to pass the time. The gall of humanity, though, who had started to expand their trading outpost at the foot of the valley into a full blown town! She left angry looking stick dolls in the construction sites at night to prove a point as she was too scared to try her hand at nightmares again. The only problem was that her tiny effigies left the villagers bemused instead of terrified, and the children had taken to seeking them every morning like a scavenger hunt. The village continued to grow and Dinah never once showed her face, instead working behind the scenes to keep these dopey villagers safe enough. There were board in the woods, and she drew boars on the paths leading to their lumber mill in the woods. A ghoul was lurking near their butchers and Dinah annoyed it until it decided a godling-free cemetery had better pickings than scraps of offal guarded by a shrieking blue child. She kept an eye on the villagers through their dreams, only briefly dropping in to make sure they didn't know about her.

More time passed and the village of Runnswick was hit by a plague. They prayed to their forest guardian, left her offerings of sweets and pastries in the village square, but Dinah was no fool; she kept a wary distance until the town had worn out the disease which took more than half of the population. Dinah watched them bury their dead in a mass grave with curiosity but would not dare to get close. Once the villagers seemed remarkably more healthy, she took to placating the bereaving children by letting them play with their dead families in their dreams. This risky move was how they found out about her den.

The offerings were moved to the mouth of the Warren and the villagers knew better than to disrupt their mysterious guardian. Dinah subsisted off their food and went about her business protecting the locals. Runnswick became a second home for Dinah but her flighty nature prevented her from getting too close to its inhabitants. Soon, a second plague hit; and the town called upon a Witcher to help them. They saw it as unnatural that the town would fall so often to disease and knew that somewhere, something was tormenting them. This is why, one summer afternoon, Dinah was rudely awoken by a man called Victor who asked for her aid in finding the source. He bribed her with sweets and she lead him to some elven ruins south of the town, as it was one of the few places she would not approach and arguably one of the few places a monster could hide undisturbed. There, the Witcher found a pesta - the resentful ghost of a woman who died in the original sickness, buried in an unmarked grave with the rest of the fallen. He slayed the ghost and brought proof to the villagers, but something made Dinah stop in her tracks.

They had set her tree alight.

Dinah was inconsolable, absolutely ruined by the betrayal of a town she had been protecting for centuries, who had decided that she was the cause of all the deaths. Victor was similarly unimpressed with the deed, but decided to leave her too. Dinah had other plans and followed him steadfastly for two weeks until he finally relented. He reluctantly let her stay by his side, under the condition that once they find a suitable home for her she leaves him alone. He had a large saddlebag made for Dinah to hide in during their travels.

This was several years ago. The fact of the matter is that by giving Dinah that saddlebag, Victor unintentionally gave her a nest to sleep in and call her home; she had no reason to leave now. She assisted him with all sorts of tasks, from identifying toxic plants by smell to scouting out Griffin nests as they glutted themselves on their latest stolen cows. As the curse started to seep into the land, Dinah realised how dangerous things could become as food sources began to dwindle and devoted herself to helping Victor get to the bottom of the blight before it was too late.

 

[d1uni5ys24si3o]

Princess Evy of Redania

Age

19

Date of Birth

Unknown

Race

Human

Languages

Common, Elvish, and Dwarvish

Sexuality

Heterosexual

Occupation

Royalty

Skills

Finess, rapier, & cardio

Powers

None

Appearance

Eye Colour
Light Blue
Hair Colour
Blonde
Height
5'6ft
Weight
Featherweight
Body Type
Slim Thick (cause she got dem booty)

Personality

Personality Type: ENFP
A free-spirit captive in a castle of concrete. The daughter of King Redania is not one to be tamned. Educated and a lady, but with one feisty attitude. She does not believe in leadership without getting her hands dirty. She huffs at her brothers, too scared to protect it's own people.

She likes the dirty gritty stuff. She isn't scared of meeting this world head-on. If that means she needs to die for her people, there so be it. That means the Gods did not plan for her to live old and ruling the country. So, her motto "live life to the fullest".

Something distinguishing of Lady Evy of Redania is her vision of the world. She doesn't like tradition, she doesn't like sticking to the rules. That's why she isn't scared of breaking them.

Biography

Overall: Evy is the eldest daughter of Randal, born from his second wife. She is fourth in the lineage since Randal the Unease has no living brothers, but rather idiotic sons. She swore to take that throne, no matter the cost. She swore to make human thrive in this world of monsters and nonhumanoids. That is why, on her 19th birthday, she decided to head out onto the world behind her hood, altruistically helping the people for her selfish desires.

Childhood: Evy mostly grew up with her mother, Libenka of the noble House of Wineburn. It is a new wealthy noble house that makes their profit out of wine, but with little to no political influence at the moment. Libenka was young when she gave birth to Evy, only 16 years of age but she was a strong lady. She had a fire in her, a will to succeed and a strong set of values. She had ambitions and all of those qualities were passed on through her education of Evy.

Unfortunately, because Libenka could not apparently produce any more kids, this branch of the family has been left out to dry really. This left her grandfather to pick up the slack the King has left. Because of that, Evy was not fully integrated into the royal family. She was not privileged like the other children with male siblings. She was jealous of them. The grandfather, Lord Anselman of Wineburn, the true gentleman he was gave her all the tools to succeed in this complex culture of nobility. From knowing which fork to use, to walking straight no matter how tight the corset was or what to say, how to say it, and why to say it... All of those teachings were quite beneficial for the young lady. How did her grandfather, an old peasant now noble, know all of these? It is a mystery (not that she asked herself that question).

Young Adult Life: When she hit puberty at the late age of 12 years, the royal court 'integrated' her back into the royal castle where she would basically receive all of the training she already got. She excelled in every topic of teaching, she fought to attend the more 'delicate' forms of combat - to her father's nonchalant "yeah yeah, let her do it", and most importantly... connections. She was good at befriending, sometimes annoying, certain castle worker. She was cute though, so nobody said anything (not that they would anyway). The thing is, she was so eager to excel only to realize that no matter what, she would not be queen. She would not be able to rule the country. She was but a tool for political gains and alliances. That reality came crashing down when her refusal to marry the heir of Kaedwen, Prince Radovit III.

Now that her conversation with her father failed, and she was quite literally bullied out of the chamber with little to no dignity, the fire within her lit up and she reached out to her best friend in this castle, Lady Tretogor. The goals she set for herself had absolutely no chance of surviving if she was to get married in some anus castle up north with some man who executed his own wife because he wanted to marry younger. Her dreams, her ambition, all her efforts... All of the efforts her grandfather and mother put into her, all to waste because of that selfish and narrow-minded King.

Well, she wasn't one to go with the tied, she set those tied. That was exactly what she would do... If she manages to escape this castle and find the man who once saved her.

Bio Code By: Honeybees

Up for Grabs:
- The man who saved her when she was a kid from a monster while travelling.
- Anyone who wants to host like 3 refugees.
- Anyone who has some kind of cool ideas.

 

[Defenestrator]

Name: Victor

Age: 56

Race: Witcher (Human)

Gender: Male

Appearance:

Spoiler: Img.

Victor stands a little above average at around 6 feet. His build is stockier than the typical Witcher; he is barrel-chested with a slightly protruding stomach. From head to toe he is covered in body hair, ranging from the dark hair on the top of his head which he combs back, thick eyebrows and a prominent mustache. More often than not, Victor has faint stubble around his jawline which rapidly devolves into a beard if he cannot get his hands on a razor quick enough. His nose is ever-so-slightly crooked and the lines on his face appear to be from decades of frowning.

His style can best be described as ‘unkempt and indifferent’. More often than not, Victor wanders the lands in dirty clothes. Bathing is a luxury for the idle, and Victor gets his hands dirty far too often to prioritise his cleanliness. He always has a distinct odour about his person that comes from a fair number of days of travel and bloodshed. His armour is a touch bulkier than the typical Witcher set-up; a mixture of chainmail, metal plates and leather padding makes up a heavier but adequately mobile armour set for a more combat-oriented lifestyle. He keeps the functional parts as clean as he can keep them; his swords are sharpened well enough and the joints between the plates get scraped clean of the gunk that accumulates from fighting monsters. Melitele knows when the cuirass last saw a good bath, and Victor tends to just buy new underclothes when the old ones become dirty beyond recognition.

The features that separate Victor from the rest of humanity are fairly obvious compared to most mutations; his gleaming yellow eyes, more monstrous than manly, stand out sharply from the typical man or woman. His flesh is pale, almost translucent and his veins bulge across his muscles quite prominently. His body is littered with disfiguring scars that fight for prominence over his flesh. Just under his left buttock is a horrid purplish dent which oozes sickly fluid from time to time. He keeps this scar bandaged.

Personality: Victor is the sort of man who isn’t afraid to get his hands dirty. He has no moral compass aside from his own desire so it’s a stroke of luck that Victor is very passionate about being paid to solve issues with monsters. His loyalty to humanity is tenuous at best; he relates more to the very beings he was sent to eradicate and consequently tries to find a way around flat-out murdering any pests that roam too close to a home. A stoic and detached man at best, Victor does little to conform to society’s expectations of how a man in his position should behave. He has a slow, aimless patience to his journey that suits his preference to do things his way, at his pace, using his rules. Victor has no quarrels with the other members of his party and his standoffish behaviour is best put down to a sheer lack of company over the decades. He is most excited (if you could call it that) when he’s piecing together a mystery from the eyewitness accounts of a few drunken civilians, whatever traces were left from the incident and his own intuition.

Flaws and Weaknesses:

• Cumbersome: His heavy armor combined with general body physique makes Victor weighty, slow, and lumbering over other more agile witchers.
• Socially Inept: Due to the life he lead so far, Victor possesses no ability to properly investigate people unless it’s through force and intimidation.
• Headstrong: Victor focuses on direct and indiscrete options when confronted with a problem.
• Crippled: Victor has a limp in his left leg due to an old injury that’s been hardly healing, slowing down his movements in witcher standards.
• Stench: By living the life of a witcher, Victor finds it hard to maintain a high level of personal hygiene, making him repulsive to people of higher stature.

Skills and Abilities:

• Brutish: A large man wearing heavy armor which grants him a significant amount of protection, fit for his fighting technique of absorbing blows over dodging them. This, combined with his heavy hitting sword swings, makes him a devastating opponent when fighting face to face.
• Intimidating: His looks, decrepit veins, and foreboding physique turn Victor into a fearsome sight for your average inexperienced joe. Fully aware of this, Victor uses this fear to force information, or repel bandits.
• Hunter/Tracker: Courtesy of his witcher training, Victor possess enhanced senses which he combines with his experience to help him with the tracking and hunting of beasts and hidden clues.

Profession or Station: Witcher

Biography:
Like most Witchers, Victor possesses very little knowledge over what little remnants of his life he had before he was inducted into the life of a trainee Witcher. Not only was he far too young to truly understand the importance of finding his origins, but the intensive and laborious trials he had to endure took such a toll on his young psyche that all thoughts aside from completing and succeeding in what the trainers repeatedly referred to as his destiny were erased. Growing in such a deplorable situation, witnessing the deaths of his friends and going through unimaginable trials, had awoken a strange sort of instinct that allowed Victor through sheer determination and genetic luck to endure where so many of his equals had failed.

After completing his training and officially picking up the mantle of Witcher, Victor was all too keen to leave the old fortress of the school of the Bear behind. He had no bond to any of the tutors and kept the fellow students at arm’s length to avoid the grief of watching them die. It was no surprise that Victor was quite apathetic to the inevitable destruction of the school. With no clear aim and nothing to turn back to, Victor devoted his life to pursuing his craft, spurred on by the kicks of adrenaline before each battle. He focused his practice with the desire to excel with the tracking, investigating and slaying of creatures.

However, that was a long time ago. An age long gone by, before the resentment, fear, and hate of commoners grew on him more and more with each contract, before he noticed that even though monsters kill and feed on the living, they do it out of instinct - the people who hired him did it because they saw these creatures as nuisance and even then they were too cowardly to kill them by their own hands. Victor’s approach to slaying monsters slowly began to change, molded by years of experience, with the realisation that not all monsters are evil and seek the destruction of the living, that not all monsters need to be killed.

The most notable impact and the longest lesson given to him by a monster came from something that wasn’t really a monster at all. A godling who introduced herself as Dinah aided him with seeking out and lifting the curse of a Pesta. He hadn’t met a godling before, both out of how rare their existence were and the brutal procedures he took when solving past contracts. With the promise of sweets, she fulfilled her part of the bargain, something Victor instantly respected. It had already been something most humans that hired him had failed to do in its entirety, refusing his full fees or trying to back out of their contract. Dinah had a much simpler way of life that Victor very much approved of. She wanted something and return gave something he wanted back. It was inevitable that once her nest was burnt down he felt a mutual twinge of anger at the villagers who the pair of them had worked together to help. Unfortunately, his past taught him better than to grow attached and he left the creature to sob in the ashes of her old home.

Weeks went by until Victor was suddenly aware that he was being followed. The godling had managed to catch up with Victors travelling pace through grit and sheer force of will. When faced with the decision of either ignoring the Godling further or attempting to drive her off, he was so overcome with uncertainty that the tricksy little creature undoubtedly twisted his arm and made him reluctantly agree to take her along - it had nothing to do with his anger towards the villagers, it certainly had nothing to do with the fact that being a Witcher was a lonely profession and that the godling was already a respectable being in his eyes. This lead to an unusual duo forming that hasn’t broken for years.

 

[MrBossMan]

The Professional

​

Name: Anthoni
Age: 102 (Looks to be in his early 30's)
Race: Human
Gender: Male
Profession: Witcher, monster slayer for hire.

Appearance: Anthoni stands tall at six feet four inches, kinda broad at the shoulders and narrow at the hips. Although tall and strong his build resembles something closer to a long distance runner. His sheer size portraying him as a simple brute but Anthoni is surprisingly quick and agile, something most wouldn't realize until seeing him in action. His hair is a dark color like that of charcoal, he keeps both his hair and facial hair rather short and hates when it grows to long. Throughout his travels he learned that the closer he tried to appear human the more approachable he became. He's not one for living the high life, considering himself a simple man, and is fine with solid colored clothing. His often wears dark-ish colored cloths, such as grey, black or brown which help him blend in with crowds and avoid notice from prying eyes.

Like all Witchers Anthoni's lifestyle is worn forcefully upon his flesh; scars, burns and cuts litter his body. Other than a small white outline of a cut under his left eye and a crescent moon shaped scar on the back of his left hand one couldn't even tell. Most of his scars are easily hidden by clothing and Anthoni doesn't like people to see them. Which is why he'll often go out of his way to not undress in front of others. Then, besides the scars, lies Anthoni's more obvious Witcher traits the most noticeable among them would be his yellow-green cat eyes. In addition his Witcher medallion, a silver head of a Viper, easily recognizes him as a Witcher. It is common knowledge that Witchers can cast signs, very basic magical spells, with the usage of their hands. However in Anthoni's case he is missing his right ring finger and due to this injury he can't cast any signs using that hand.

Personality: The life Anthoni has lived has taken its toll on him, not just physically but also mentally. Witchers are a dying breed with only a handful left remaining in the world. Due to this fact and the stigma every Witcher carries with him, Anthoni has learned to live alone. He travels from place to place in search of work fit for someone like him, then when the job is completed or the people run him off he leaves and is back on the road again. Due to this lack of emotional connection with people, places or even things Anthoni's attitude has become one of indifference. He's simply not emotionally invested in the things that most people are, whether that be politics, love, local troubles or celebrations. Anthoni cares for himself above all others because, all throughout his life, hes only had himself to care for. He helps those in need if they can pay him and he has never, ever, worked for free. Often this gets him labeled as a cold hearted person, a greedy fiend and a monster among men who only takes advantage of those undergoing hardship. He cares little for how people perceive him however because he knows they don't truly know him.

Anthoni is a hard man to understand from those looking from the outside in. He hunts monsters for a living, lifts curses, solves mysteries and does this at the risk of his own life. For these efforts people spit on him, treat him like an outcast, cheat him from his money and spread vile rumors about him behind his back. These trespasses against him have soured his opinion of humanity with a bitter resentment. That being said he still needs to eat and the only way for him to do that is work, thus the cycle rinse and repeats itself over and over again. There have been times when Anthoni has came close to being human, something he so desperately wants to be, to be normal, but those times are few and far between. Living as long of a life as he has is a curse in and of itself, the people he cares for all will wither and die before he even becomes an old man. Making him hesitant to even form close bonds with people, always pushing them away before it gets to that point. Which usually manifests itself in the form of him riding away and leaving his would be lover or friend behind. Never to be seen again, and yet Anthoni holds on to the good memories. Often when he is riding he'll remember the good times which usually only brings him back to the grim reality of his world.

All of this is not to say Anthoni is a cold hearted killer, he's a man of principles. The most notable among them is his code, the Witcher code, which is more something he hides behind to remain neutral than anything else. He doesn't like meddling in affairs that are none of his business and this helps him stay out of trouble, people would find a Witcher an easy target for blame. He doesn't work for free, this is true, but in return when Anthoni is payed to do something you can consider it done. No matter how impossible or hard the task is said to be you can trust in him to see it completed. His word means much and more to him, and some people have found out the hard way what exactly happens when you call Anthoni a liar. You can almost bet that would be the surest way to rub Anthoni wrong. In return for his honesty he expects the same from people, if he accepts a job, he'll do it, but he also expects the reward. If he's cheated, manipulated or hassled about a pre-arranged bargain things could go from bad to worse. Although he'd never kill an innocent person, there's no gain in it, he wouldn't think twice about protecting himself or what he considers his. He see's evil as black and white, good and bad, caring little for the reasons or motivations of either side. Evil is evil, whether it be the werewolf that kills on the full moon or the bandit that takes everything in the light of day. That being said Anthoni understands that sometimes each side is merely different shades of grey, and he walks that path between the light and the dark.

He hates himself for it too, knowing he isn't the hero like he dreamed of one day being, but convincing himself he isn't the villain either. At the very least he didn't turn into the villain but the world made him the way he is. Wanderer, Monster slayer, savior, mutant......Witcher.

Skills and Abilities: Anthoni is a Witcher and as such he's been trained in all sorts of Witcher related skills. With his cat like eyes he can adjust them to see in blinding light or pitch darkness. He's been highly trained in swordplay and is a very skilled combatant. He is much faster, stronger and more agile than the ordinary human due to his bodies mutations when he underwent the trials to become a Witcher. Although every Witcher is able to cast signs Anthoni is restricted in this regard, due to the ability stemming from the usage of a Witchers hands and fingers he can't cast signs with his right hand. This is because Anthoni is missing his right ring finger which makes him unable to perform the necessary hand movements to cast a sign. As a Witcher Anthoni can heal much faster than a normal human, the time it takes to heal depends on the type of wound inflicted however. Then, of course, Witchers have an increased life span, living up to centuries before dying. Sadly, not many Witchers have ever died from old age. Anthoni won't be an exception to the rule and he accepted that a long time ago.

Biography: Anthoni was, from what he was told, a child of surprise. "I'll taketh what you find at home, but do not expect." Those were the words that a Witcher said to Anthoni's father, Nalfroy, after saving him from a drowner. His father, a simple fisherman, had no way to pay the Witcher and agreed to the terms. Nalfroy didn't think he'd find anything at home that he wouldn't expect. Anthoni's mother was pregnant at the time, carrying Anthoni inside her, but that was to be expected. What wasn't to be expected was the labor, so strange to bring life into the world with a Witcher invoking the law of surprise. The Witcher, probably out of kindness, offered to help Anthoni's parents through the labor. Soothing the woman with herbs and medicine he made the process simpler. a child was to be expected, of course, but not two children. It just so happened that Anthoni was born a few minutes after his twin brother. Whether a stroke of luck, the gods playing their games or simply fate is left up to interpretation. That being said though Nalfroy and his wife did not expect twins, thus the second child, Anthoni, was to be taken by the Witcher as promised.

Witchers though are not the best with children and even though Anthoni belonged to the stranger, he wouldn't take a newborn on the road. Instead the Witcher promised he'd return for Anthoni when he grew older. Then he left Nalfroy and his wife and two sons, then wasn't seen again for ten years. Anthoni was raised as a fisherman's son, a simple life, and one with little adventure and excitement. A boy of ten is filled with stories that go high and above anything they could dream of ever doing. Anthoni was no exception to the rule, Knights fascinated him, princesses and kings, not fishing. His parents where no help either, they were always so protective of Anthoni. But protective in a sad kind of way, like no matter what they did, however hard they tried to keep him from danger, they'd end up losing him anyway. As a boy Anthoni never noticed this and it was only when he looked back on it did he realize why.

Sure enough, as promised, the Witcher returned for the child he was promised. With some reluctance, but honor bound to follow through with it, Nalfroy gave the Witcher his son. Although sad to leave his parents Anthoni was eager to leave his way of life behind. The Witcher was a distant man, a hard man, but Anthoni learned to respect him. As a boy of ten Anthoni was filled with grand illusions about what was to come. Learning how to fight with a sword, being stronger and faster than all the other kids, all of it sounded so.....different than what he was used to. So better. He was taken to a castle and trained with six other boys, each of them around his age. What he underwent there was brutal, hard and completely unforgiving. Out of the six kids that underwent the trials to become a Witcher only two survived, Anthoni and one other boy.

When Anthoni finally became a Witcher he did what Witchers were meant to do, kill monsters. Years have gone by and with it Anthoni's old self, his mother, father and brother are all dead now. Anthoni still being young for a Witcher outlived them, even though he never visited, never wanted to. Countless creatures have been killed and payments collected. In some places Anthoni is well known and loved for his deeds, in others he's hated and unwelcome. He has saved commoners, lords and ladies and even King Randel of Redania's princess daughter. He's built a reputation as the tall, Dark haired Witcher named Anthoni. Which is why King Randel the Uneasy has sent him a letter, having not forgotten that he saved Evy from the pack of Ghouls so long ago, offering a very lucrative contract. Find his daughter, head Sorceress, and end the Curse on the Locklongs.

Anthoni accepted the offer.