Fantasy World of Innixus (CS)

[Kyuubey]

​

• General Info
• More about me
• Intimate Details

• 
  
  
  Name;
  Lucena Faen Elandris
  
  Nickname;
  Lucy
  
  Age;
  209
  
  Gender;
  Female
  
  Sexuality;
  Pan
  
  Eye Color;
  Diluted Red
  
  Height;
  6’4”
  
  Race;
  Elf
  
  Occupation;
  Ex-Soldier for Altair
  
  Magic;
  Green/White
  
  Familiar;
  Tava the Polar Bear (is usually in cub form but can change his size to that of a full grown polar bear)
  
  Theme Song;
  (to be found eventually)​
  
  
• 
  Green Magic;
  
  • Tangling Thorns; Lucy can grow vines at a targeted area as well as around her at an extremely rapid rate. They are used offensively and defensively. Defensively she can create a thick wall of them, interwoven for fortifying, to block off attackers and their advancements. Offensively she can ensnare and grab at attackers, sending them flying or trapping them in place, and pummeling them. The thorns can be used as weapons and hurled at foes like spears repetitively.
  
  
  • Plant Cultivation; When Lucy touches plants she is capable of recreating them and growing them without needing any seeds. They are added to her field guide in a sense, magically speaking. They simply sprout and grow where the magic is directed. This is useful for making potions of all varying sorts.
  
  
  • They are the trees; Lucy can call upon the aid of the forest and trees.
  
  
  • Healing touch; By taking in the life energy around her given by nature, Lucy can heal others. At times if needed, she will use her vines as tourniquets, slings, or however they may be needed in a first aid manner.
  
  
  • Snapping plants; Lucy can grow and summon plants that appear with eyes and a gaping mouth. (think Mario) It is similar to animating an object but not quite. They are capable of biting and throwing thorns at her enemies.
  
  
  White Magic;
  
  • Mid Battle Repair - The user is able to repair their broken weapon or armor mid fight. Unfortunately it does change the shape and the size. So if the user has a sword and it's broken in half, the user can repair it enough to be a long dagger, and if it gets broken again, it turns into a dagger till there is nothing left.
  
  
  • Lucy can create weapons as long as she has the material needed. Typically she makes extremely thin daggers and uses them as quick weapons for long range attacks.
  
  Racial Abilities;
  
  • Keen Senses
  • Lengthy Lifespan
  • Flexibility/Balance
  
  Likes;
  
  • Protecting others
  • Wildlife of all sorts
  • The smell after it rains
  • Warm bread
  • Exploring and learning about new things, especially plant life
  • Kari even if she doesn't smile as much as she should
  
  Dislikes;
  
  • Seeing the forest be destroyed or harmed
  • Feeling helpless
  • Anyone messing or interfering with what she deems important or a valiant cause
• 
  
  Personality;
  Lucy is the epitome of a sweet soul. She is kind, unbearably so. She wears her heart on her sleeve and her emotions are clearly written upon her face. There’s no need to guess or assume how she’s ever feeling. Lucy usually smiles through most situations, finding it to be nice spreading warmth even in the face of darkness. The first to act in most situations, Lucy has no time to feel fear or the weight of terror when there’s someone to be saved or that may need a lended hand. Action isn’t the only time she will spring into action or be a large presence. Her words hold weight too and she will fling them around like a shield or a weapon when necessary if she feels someone is doing something morally wrong. Not one to stand on the sidelines, one can always count on Lucy’s aid in battle. She is steadfast in her beliefs and maintains a stalwart persona that shines brighter than the sun.
  
  Background;
  Lucy grew up surrounded by frosty peaks and the looming but ever so beautiful ridge of mountains. Her village was a small yet bustling one but they worked side by side with the dwarves that mined within the many winding tunnels that delved down and down into the layers of the planet. They searched for ore and gems before returning home with their treasures. The elves would supply them with elixirs and warm food from their daily game catch. One day, as a small child, Lucy found herself exploring the dark and seemingly unending tunnels that stretched far into the mountain. She’d been advised not to but she’d heard from word of ear that a group of dwarves had been caved in far down. A spark had ignited in her, that desire to save them becoming so overwhelming that she shoved worry aside and went after them. After a few hours, Lucy’s dirty but smiling face appeared over the ridge and a group of dwarves were trotting behind her. They were injured but alive. She’d saved them, using her powers to lift the fallen boulders with her vines. As a thank you the dwarves crafted her a whole set of armor. Lucy could tell they’d put their very heart and soul into it and at first she felt hesitant to accept but they insisted. To this day it’s one of her most cherished items.
  
  A few years passed and their peaceful village was no longer that. Peaceful. That tranquility was broken when a group of raiders swept through the village. In a desperate attempt to save them, Lucy turned to the mountains and begged for help. She asked the trees that dotted the sides like a blanket, she asked the sky with its stars burning bright. An avalanche of snow was her answer. It cascaded down upon the village and wiped it from existence but somehow the elves were all spared. Except for Lucy. A pair of the intruders had circled her up on the hill she’d gone to pray at. Whilst deep in her trance, speaking to nature, they turned and attacked her. Those same dwarves she’d saved back then had taken them down but not without grave damage to themselves. As she opened her eyes, fluttering back open to be assaulted by dots of white, they finally focused in to see the bodies around her.
  
  Tears stained that porcelain skin immediately when she realized they were beyond saving. Beyond the help of her magic. Needless to say their sacrifice led Lucy down a soldier’s path. A warrior's path. She’d use her talents and her smile to conquer any foes and fears. And she did just that. Even though they’d found a new home, Lucy wasn’t content there. She wanted to do more. She wanted to stand for something, live the life she’d been blessed with. She wanted to save others so that they too may walk the path they were meant to.
  
  Lucy wears the armor they’d forged her in remembrance of what they’d given her and to honor them.
  
  Her travels brought her to Altair where she joined the forces there. With her skills and expertise in her magic, she was quick to rise the ranks. One day she came across a woman, a soldier, fighting off a wave of bandits on her own. For a second, Lucy admired her strength and tenacity but after that moment passed she surged forward and held them off beside her in an immense show of power. She tended to her wounds immediately after they’d succeeded in fending them off. This woman she shortly learned went by the name of Kari Holm. A woman who became Lucy’s companion and closest friend as the years slowly droned on. They fought together, protected one another, and that icy exterior Kari typically wore melted away around the Elf. Eventually they broke away from their roles as soldiers in the world but their adventure never ended - it continues to this day.​
  
  
  
  
  
  
  

 

[StealthyShades]

Zenoulis Silvercraw

The First Charon of the Sea

Basic Information

Full Name

Zenoulis Silvercraw

Nicknames

Heretic or Degenerate

Occupation

Gambler / Con-Artist / Pirate

Gender

Male

Age

84 (looks 28)

Alignment

Chaotic Neutral

Race

Half-Demon

Appearance

Hair Color

white

Eye Color

Red

Height

6'7" (200.66cm)

Personality

Zenoulis is a trickster who uses wit and deceit to attain his goals, preferring to end disputes verbally instead of by force. He walks with a slightly drunken swagger and has slurred speech and flailing hand gestures. Zenoulis is shrewd, calculating, and eccentric. He's knowledgeable, able to get out of any troublesome situation, and put himself back on top repeatedly. Perhaps his constant act of being stupid was even just to force people to underestimate him, therefore putting himself at a constant advantage.

Backstory

Being half demon may seem cool on paper, but growing up in a culture where you are seen as pure evil and an abomination makes you hate your life. Zenoulis was a son of a woman who was attacked by a demon. His mother and he lived in a village out in the countryside. It was peaceful until his horns grew in. His presence caused other families to wonder if he was dangerous. One night when he was 8, all of the people in the village surrounded his home demanding his mother to give them to him or else. His mother was strong and stood her ground. She was not wanting anything to happen to her little boy. No one was going to take her boy from her. The crowd started to chant “IMPURE SOULS LIVE HERE! IMPURE SOULS LIVE HERE!”

His mother tried shutting the door on the town nonsense but before she could, two men barge in. One pushed passed her and when looking for Zenoulis. The other grabbed and threw her outside. She was imprisoned for harboring a dangerous creature. Zel was lucky.. Lucky to have an intelligent mother the night before it happened she gave him to one of her old sailor friends. He promised to come back to see her. They said goodbye and that was it. On that night Zel lost one life and gained his new one. He became a sailor and soon a pirate.

Relationships

Zel's Mother

Zel's Adopted Father

Magic

Red Magic

• Sailor’s Pride: The user is able to use their own power to empower others. Depending on the number, this can either not bother the user at all, or K.O. the user. When this spell is active confetti falls out of nowhere on all that are empowered by it. Morality for the opponents with fall at the sight of their lack of Confetti.

Black Magic

• Charon Passages: The User casts this spell onto them and another living being. Over time the user’s opponents will slowly lose their endurance and strength. Any strength and endurance that is lost will be transferred to the user. This spell becomes more effective the longer it is in effect. No other spells can be cast during this spell's activation.
• The River Styx: The caster points at a person that they can see within range, and the sound of a dolorous bell fills the air around it for a moment. Spirits surround the person and pull their spirit out of their body. Charon will show up and take the person's spirit to the underworld. This can only be done once a week.

Blue Magic

• 3-Second Rule: The user can only see 3 seconds into the future. Cannot be used in rapid succession.
• Poseidon’s Compass: The User can visually see a compass in the hand and knows what direction to go they also can think of a place they want to go in the compass will guide them. No one besides the caster can see this compass

Extra

01.

Likes:

• Cooking
• Carving and Smoking a Pipe
• Reading Book
• Making deals that he can't keep
• To cheat and manipulate people
• Rum

Dislikes:

• Nature
• Nosy People
• White Magic

02.

Theme Song:

[/comment]

code by nano

-->

 

[Britt-21]

Name:
Valorie Fighill

Nickname:
Val, V

Age:
26

Gender:
Female

Race:
Fairy

Magic(Optional):
White Magic

Creation - Val uses her magic to create things like new trinkets.

Heavenly Ray - Heavenly Ray comes from the sky when the sun is out, it cannot be used in caves or sealed off areas from the open sky. Which means inside of buildings, she cannot use this ability either unless the roof has been caved in and allows the sun to beam through. A ray comes down and goes in the directed path that Valorie would like. It moves forward as long as she would like but the further it goes, the more power it takes. (Staff Equipped Only)

Beam of Hope - Beam of hope is able to be used with stored power within the staff. This can go one direction for about half a mile and takes a decent amount of focus to control. Val is stuck in one place and cannot move in this state as she digs her staff into the ground to keep the balance. Anything within the beam gets burned to a crisp and also has the possibility to set things on fire since it is like the sun rays. (Staff Equipped Only)

Spoiler: beam of hope

Occupation:
Craftswoman

Likes:
+Adventuring
+Hearty Meals like Stews
+Breezy Mornings
+Finding new Trinkets
+Making Potions
+The Ocean

Dislikes:
-Rain, makes her drowsy
-Losing her homemade potions
-Arrogance
-Fighting Hand-To-Hand
-Others touching her wings without her permission

Personality:
While seeming like the most innocent person to come up on, or possibly rob, she's pretty deadly in her own way. She wears her concoctions along her belts securely enough not to break and would use them as self defense. While not liking hand-to-hand combat, she uses what she's made just to get along and protect herself. Val is easy to get along with and she's very passionate about what she likes, so sometimes she could get out of hand if someone's interested enough. While being friendly, she can still come off as fairly serious especially when doing more serious things, such as adventuring. Sure, there's the fun moments, but there can be moments that require the seriousness of the group. While wanting to help others, she steps in when she knows that people can prevail and will help if absolutely necessary. (More will be revealed in the rp because we all know not all personalities stick)

Background:
Born inside of the enchanted forest of Vinalda, a fairy was born. Her name was Valorie, a full Fairy with tiny translucent wings lined thinly in gold, with light brown hair and caramel eyes. She was born into a family of five, living in a small village outside of Astrine. Living in the enchanted forest was always a joy, finding new things to tinker with, create, and more. Val was the more creative one out of the whole family, always making "potions" as a child, building forts and what not. As she continued to grow older, she got into Alchemy, but that Alchemy was a whole other side of it. One that allowed her to create her own potions. Most of them were potions she could throw, rather than drink, finding that far more fun to do. Valorie continued to peruse this while also crafting from time to time.

Growing even more older, mid teens, she was found going on adventures and gaining experience within the enchanted forest, meeting Pudge, and finding new recipes. Hell, she was even able to find a holy staff which she was able to eventually learn how to use and cast magic with it. Allowing her to further become a ranged fairy to send her abilities out offensively. Over time she eventually specialized in White Magic to create what her mind could think of. However, the Holy Staff of hers required more...Of something different. Pure intentions that were for the greater good rather than for evil. Eventually she had to delve a little bit into the Holy Religion just to get a feel for it and use it for what it deemed the greater good. More years had gone by and she had a pretty good grasp on her Holy Staff as well as her White Magic abilities. Which allowed her to set out onto her new life as the Fairy with the Holy Staff

Appearance:
Gold Trimmed wings with Spirals in them. Similar to Tinkerbell's wings.
She also has a Florette named Aven

Spoiler: Gallery

Theme(Optional):


d18517​

 

[Jackaboi]

"You will keep me entertained won't you~? If you don't... Well... Let's just say you don't want to see me bored..."

• Basics
• Details
• Other

• 
  
  
  Name:
  Olivar Thorne
  
  Alias:
  The Dark Puppeteer
  
  Age:
  25
  
  Gender:
  Male
  
  Race:
  Corrupted Fairy
  (Part Demon)
  
  Magic: Black magic
  Marionette: This is Olivar's primary magical ability and the one that earned him the name of The Dark Puppeteer. This works by first using his demonic hand to siphon the environment of it's precious life energy, twisting it's nature and redirecting it into an inanimate object of his choosing and control it like a puppet. While this works best with actual puppets it can also work with any other objects that have anything that could arguably count as limbs like trees or certain types of furniture. Of course this does not work on "living" creatures and I do mean living specifically. The dead on the other hand are fair game. In this case this kind of magic could be closely attributed to that of necromancy. To summarise this magic is capable of making the inanimate animate! Whether that be a wooden puppet, a suit of armour or even the very dead.
  
  Dark Tendrils: Olivar's secondary magical ability. This is what he uses should the need arise to defend himself... Or attack... Whichever works. With this he can manifest and freely control 4 tendrils that grow from his back capable of extending, attacking, blocking, grappling and even manoeuvring. These tendrils can be moulded at will to be sharp like a sword, pointy like a spear or blunt like a hammer making them a very versatile weapon.
  
  Occupation:
  Wanted Fugitive
  
• 
  
  
  Personality:
  If anyone else were to tell you... Olivar is a total psychopath. But if Oliver were to tell you... He is just simply an easily bored individual. Olivar acts like the world is a great grand stage performing a play with the sole purpose of entertaining him. With absolutely no moral standards or regard for other living beings he will do anything and everything to keep himself from getting bored. This mentality has lead many people getting seriously hurt and even loss of life. After he had discovered the possibilities of Black Magic, the casualties could only get higher. Thus he had long earned himself a reputation as a wanted fugitive, some would think Olivar Thorne is a scary bedtime story told to children to keep them in line but he is in fact a very real individual and an especially well known name to fairy-kind.
  
  Olivar is keen on toying with his enemies, rarely engaging in combat himself since he already has a bunch of totally loyal "puppets" to do the work for him while he gets to sit back and watch the show. He will often try to trick others into dancing along with his tune, leading them into traps or worse. However there are times when things don't go according to plan, like when a play is just dragging on too long and he just wants it to end already. His increasing boredom will make him more and more unstable and dangerous eventually getting to the point he will just take matters into his own hands and join the fray. When he's angry it is quite a terrifying sight. In combat he is far more ruthless than his dramatic persona might let on.
  
  Background:
  Olivar was once an ordinary Fairy like any other though at first he was merely considered odd by his own kind. Living in the land of Vinalda Olivar didn't find much joy in the general japery of his fellows. So instead he pulled his own pranks. However none of them were ever very well received. Which is understandable considering his pranks always led to someone getting badly hurt in the process. The worse it got, the more and more he was shunned by the other fairies until one time... One of his pranks turned into a serious accident... He thought it would be funny to remove the bolts securing a wheel to a traveling merchants wagon. As the merchant took off the wheel stayed on just long enough for them to approach the edge of a cliff right before the wheel came sliding off and the wagon tipped sideways and sent the whole thing barrelling down the cliff face. Merchant included... The merchant did not survive the fall... Though as Olivar looked down at the scene of his crime something weird happened. He knew what he was suppose to be feeling right now. Yet for some reason he did not feel even the slightest tinge of panic or guilt. Instead... He felt nothing but joy. The terrible accident turned out to be a far more entertaining situation than how he previously thought it would end.
  
  But he knew he couldn't stay here any longer since this would be way to far for the other fairies this time. So he took off, leaving Vinalda behind. Since then he had led a largely solitary life creating more and more chaos as he travelled. Relishing in the pain it caused others. his antics eventually lead to a bounty being placed on his head. One day he was approached by shifty looking traveller, seeing the potential Olivar had he offered the wanted fairy power beyond his imagination. The power of demons. Black magic. He knew what black magic did and he also knew it is capable of turning one into a demon. But to him that was fine for it wouldn't matter. He had accepted that he was a demon already. The transformation would only make it true on the outside too. Olivar accepted the offer, learning to use magic capable of controlling inanimate objects like puppets and dark tendrils to wipe out those who would seek to stand against him. Since then his reputation only got worse and worse. Eventually leading him to become quite infamous and earn the alias The Dark Puppeteer.
  
• 
  
  
  Likes:
  Drama
  "Pranks"
  Theatre
  His "Puppets"
  Control
  Power
  
  Dislikes:
  Disobedience
  Boredom
  Being told what to do
  Unpredictable people
  
  Theme(Optional):
  
  

 

[Slav]

• Basic
• Appearance
• Personality
• Background
• Other
• Theme song

• 
  
  
  
  Name: Alix Dupont
  
  Nickname: N/A
  
  Gender: Male
  
  Race: Human
  
  Age: 19
  
  Magic: White magic
  
  Occupation: Musician/Bard
  
• 
  
  
  
  
  Height: 5'10
  
  Weight: 160 lbs
  
• 
  While Alix has the voice of an angel, his personality is not of one. He could simply be described as a flirt, targeting men and women to hopefully gain some pleasure from them. He has a lot of desires and goes to great lengths to fulfill them. Despite his selfish nature, he gets along well with others. He is a story teller and often gets lost in his own stories. Alix likes to be up close and personal with those he converses with. He doesn't understand the concept of personal space. He yearns for the attention of others, often prodding for a reaction. One of his best qualities is that he is dependable when you need him around. He's not afraid to use his body to help others.
  
  When it comes to combat Alix greatly dislikes it. The only wrestling he wants to do is with someone in a bed. He carries a blade but only uses it for self defense reasons. There are more important things than fighting to him. He tends to shy away from conflict unless he can't avoid it. There is enough anger in the world and Alix doesn't want to add to it. The one thing that always calms him down is music. Music is Alix's lifeline. Without music, Alix would be a shell of himself.
  
  Likes:
  Flirting, music, dancing, partying, and story telling
  
  Dislikes:
  Violence, being turned down, and stuck up people
  
• 
  Alix was born in Altair to a middle class family. His father crafted luxury clothes for many of the rich folk that lived in the city. This allowed him to go to a decent school and receive a good amount of schooling. His main focus in school was music and it allowed him to become a great musician and singer. Alix played at many high society functions from a young age, making a name for himself in the city. He was able to make it into a living and continue his music career. His father also had him trained to be able to use the sword but Alix quit after a few years. He was more interested in learning White magic.
  
  He was able to use White magic in his performances to make them more appealing to the audience. Making the audience clap was what he strove to do. As he grew older, he wanted to spread his music and voice around the world. That's when he started traveling, hitching along wherever he could. He spent a few years traveling, making money just to get to the next city. He's met many people and seen many societies. Eventually, Alix made his way back to Altair. He now spends most of his days playing at events around the city, making a name for himself.
  
• 
  Alix can play a variety of instruments, having been trained by his teacher.
  
• 
  THEME
  
  

 

[StealthyShades]

Lawrence A. Wolfmale

The Enternal Prince

Basic Information

Full Name

Lawrence A. Wolfmale

Nicknames

Law / Drac

Occupation

Assassian

Gender

Male

Age

1000 (looks 22)

Alignment

Pure Neutral

Race

Vampire (Was Human)

Appearance

Hair Color

Black with dyed tips

Eye Color

Orange

Height

6'5" (190.65cm)

Personality

As he is immortal and invincible, Law is very cocky, arrogant, and egotistical. He freely taunts and belittles his opponents, often allowing them to inflict seemingly fatal wounds before healing himself and obliterating his enemy. One of his favorite methods is allowing himself to literally be cut into pieces before simply flowing back together. It could accurately be said that rather than killing his opponents, Law breaks them. Life itself is hell and Law… his life is hell on earth. Now he would love to die but until he finds someone or something that can he will show others want it truly means to suffer.

Backstory

Growing up in a rich family may seem like the dream to some people, but for Law, it was living hell. His birth wasn't pure and innocent like most. It was a deal rooted in dark magic. To a long story short his mother was unable to have a child. She went to an old woman who lived south of Altair. She was known for using her magic to grant wishes.

After signing a magic contract months before, Susanna had a healthy baby boy. Weeks later, the old woman showed up and demanding for the child as her payment for their deal. Law’s mother refuse and turned the woman away. The old woman revealed herself to be a goddess of black magic. She was not happy and cursed the child which would cause him to be more of a hindrance than a blessing. His hair went from blue to black. His eyes turned yellow, and he began to have a taste for blood.

Relationships

Law's Mother (Susanna Wolfmale)

Magic, Abilities, and Weapons

Blue Magic

• Identical Doppelganger - The user creates illusions of themselves that they can control using magic. These illusions cannot interact with the physical world at all and is mainly used for mind games and to trick the target.
• Truth Teller - The user casts a spell of truth onto a target. If the Target is weakened or has low will the spell will take effect. Once Activated the user can ask 3 questions that the target must answer truthfully. Once all questions have been asked the spell with dissipate and the target will have no recollection of what has occurred.

Black Magic

• Syphoning Sphere - sucks all the blood or life force from dying or recently dead bodies.
• Vocal Manipulation - the user can stop someone from speaking for a short limited time and can mimic the person's voice perfectly.

Vampire Abilities

• Super Strength
• Regeneration
• Super Hearing/ Sight
• Super speed

Weapons

• A Reaper (sword)
• A Needle-Tip Dagger

Extra

01.

Likes:

• The taste of Metal
• Torturing the Living
• The Cold
• Soft Piano Music
• His pet Crow (Scar)

Dislikes:

• Cold Tea
• People being annoying
• Bright Sunny Days
• The Living

02.

Theme Song:

[/comment]

code by nano

-->

 

[Reanimator Buns]

Age: 23 | Pronouns: She/Her | Occupation: Librarian | Race: Half-Demon Human

~ Likes ~
Books and Reading
Libraries
People who aren't too serious
Sweets and Cakes

~ Dislikes ~
Academia
Those who judge off of appearance
Those who look down on others
Vegetables

~ Magic ~
Green Magic
Living Inkwell - Anise carries with her a fair amount of ink which she can grant a semblance of life with green magic. She usually uses these for writing what she orates, but they do have some combat viability in just being extra bodies.

Blue Magic
Archive - Anise can hold information in an object in order to create an archive of sorts. Others can access this information, provided that Anise either has let them or it is in some form that is comprehensible to them. This also allows her to store magic in things like her ink.

Read Spell - A kind of portent that allows Anise to understand the nature of a spell, even outside of her own knowledge before it is cast, giving her an idea of what its purpose is before its effect even happens.

Autohypnosis - Anise can put herself under the effects of autohypnosis, during which she is in a semi-conscious state and possesses a photographic memory, allowing for rapid reading and absorption of material.

Heckler - A spell of Anise's own creation. Creates an illusion of an annoying being that shouts obscenities' and bad jokes at someone

Information Overload - Anise beams far too much information into someone's head, inundating their mind briefly.

~ Personality ~
​

Anise is open and extroverted in spite of her choice of expertise. In fact, she might be a bit too open, willing to speak her mind on most matters, even if they can come across as rude. But typically these are accompanied with jests or muses. Whether that lessens the blow is dependent on who is the target. Quick-witted, she is quite happy to engage in all sorts of petty squabbles for her own amusement. She is far too curious for her own good, and after spending most of her times with Crampernap, she also lacks tact. No question is too embarrassing for her, and she is more than willing to share whatever knowledge she has to the point of growing giddy, speaking too fast for most to follow her train of thought.

More than anything she loves learning whatever she can. Knowledge if indiscriminate. It doesn't care who you are or what you look like. It only cares that you listen. Having been neglected by most of her piers due to her birth and appearance, she finds comfort in study. Almost as if it is a friend of hers.

Spoiler: It's Just Long

~ History ~​

Most wizards who claim tutelage seek the grand ivory towers of arcane universities. They seek the massive campus of statues and crystals all standing proudly as monuments to say “Look at us! Look at how great we are!” But to Anise all she saw was an attempt to see which member had the biggest member. It was all one massive showboating competition, not truly a place to study and learn. She found better tutelage at the base of a tree.

In the base of this tree was a tiny door, one that she was quite a bit larger than. She could fit, but the fit was tight. However, once she was inside, the hollowed-out trunk grew, or rather she shrunk, so that it encompassed the space of a huge library, leading all the way to the top of the 6-foot-wide stump. There lived her teacher, Crampernap Fiddlefen, an elderly (and crabby) dwarven man who was ostracized by academia for his… cantankerous attitude and platitude of eccentricities. He was simply not the refined visage that the colleges wanted to uphold, though according to him, “Makes no difference to me! Poppycock and cockledoodle to them I say! When they realize who they let fly the coop, I’ll just give them the bird, heHA!”

Anise first discovered this strange world when she was just a child. Due to her unfortunate nature of birth, parents often warned their children to be careful around her. “She’s devil-blooded… Best stay away from her… She’s a liar and a deceiver…” As such, the other children often would spread rumors behind her back, and find excuses whenever she wanted to play. She knew what was going on, but she wanted them to listen. One day, she caught some children playing hide-and-seek. After she asked if she could play, they made her “it” and ran off to leave her by herself. She searched for a few minutes, hoping that just maybe she had found a group, but much to her dismay, and not at all to her surprise, they had abandoned her. Frustrated, she kicked the tree that she had counted behind. From inside she heard the sound of books falling, and a man yelled out in surprise. Then something slammed against her foot, as she noticed a tiny door, and beside it an even tinier man sticking his head out from the doorway. “Hey!” he cried, “Yes you! Were you the one kicking at my library?!” Before she had a chance to reply, she was grabbed by the old tiny man and quickly shrunk in size. Everything happened in such a blur. The next thing she knew she was staring at a massive pile of books lying on the floor, and the same old man (now only half her size as opposed to a twentieth) conjuring a spectral hand to place books back on the shelf. “Well? Are you just going to stand there, or are you going to help me?”

This was how she met her teacher. From that day on, she kept on coming back to him, in spite of his incessant complaints. However, he was a funny old man, and perhaps the first person not to see her as a fiend in the making. She had never thought herself the scholarly type, but watching the old man perform magic was fascinating. She asked questions all the time, and as a method to keep her quiet, he kept directing her to books that should have been far beyond her level in an effort to dissuade her. But quite the contrary occurred. Instead of discouraging her, she came back with more questions, and he came back with more books, unwittingly fueling her curiosity to an obscene degree. After a while, he finally began to tolerate her. She kept the library organized. Things were never so easy to find in all the time he had been there. While the books had been placed on the shelves, they had been done rather haphazardly in a somewhat random order, but she had taken the time over the years organizing them and keeping them neat and tidy (after she read them of course).

Things were going rather well, until one day…

“Assistant, have you seen the tome I have been studying? It’s a large brown leather-bound book.”

“No sir, I can’t say I have.” Anise was putting away a few tomes that she had finished herself. Clearly upset, Crampernap walked off muttering a few things to himself. As he walked off, Anise put her hand on a book that she hadn’t read yet. It was small, easily held in one hand. Its cover was a deep purple, with pictographs emblazoned in gold. It was remarkable. What knowledge did this particular tome hold? She must know! She waited no time, eagerly letting her curiosity take control. And yet, as she opened the small book, she became light headed and quickly lost consciousness. In her last moments of lucidity she read…

FREEEEEE!!!

“ANIIIIIIIIISE! WHAT HAVE YOU DONE TO MY LIBRARY!” She was awoken by the outrage of her mentor. Quickly she looked around her. But… Everything seemed normal. “I’m sorry sir what’s the-'' Suddenly he shoved an open tome in her face “Look! Look! All the words, all the knowledge drained from the very page! I’ve seen this once before and-MY TOME!!!” He pointed at the tiny purple book held in her hand. She had seen him studying that book before though, this could not possibly be it. This one was tiny, his was easily the largest book in the library. She quickly explained her side of the story. After she finished, he told her what happened.

“I see… As much as I hate to admit it, this is as much my own fault as it is yours. I never took into consideration that these beasts could alter the appearance of their book to others. They couldn’t have moved far, be quick now there ought to be at least one more nearby.”

Confused, she obeyed her mentor’s instructions. Not long after she found a tiny little beast eating the words from a book. And yes, it ripped the words right off the page in a long dangling string and ate them. She caught it, and called her master as it twisted and cried. “Don’t just stand there, squash it!” She turned her face away as her hands sparked with energy. As it stopped squirming, it dispersed into black ink which stained her hands, and the words from the book that it was eating had returned.

“Sir, what is this thing?”

“Simply put, it is your voracious curiosity given physical form. One of my many acts that had me finally kicked out from Academia. With a little bit of green magic, I was able animate the ink from pages. Well, I used this to vastly improve my speed of transcription, and figured I'd simply enchant one of my spellbooks with it. What I hadn't imagined was that the ink would learn, as I mostly inscribed blue magic into my books. Soon, they didn't need me to keep the spell running, instead feeding of my own will to learn. It was quite hilarious though, watching the entire school freak out as the words literally began running off the pages of every book they held!" He let out a hardy guffaw. "But do not worry, they mean no ill-will. Instead they merely wish to be fed. They feed off of knowledge and books, and the more they feed, the more they learn, the bigger they grow, the smarter they become, and the more dangerous they are. Unfortunately, it seems the rest have slipped out. If you kill them, they will store all the information they learned inside the tome I was studying. However, it seems it’s your tome now. Now then, what are you standing around for! Fix my library!”

The door suddenly slammed behind her, and she didn’t even know when that happened. Armed with a quest, she set off to restore her master’s library and gather even more knowledge in the process. Giddy and ready for adventure, she set out to right her wrong, without a single regret.

~ Theme ~
Gotta find one​

 

[leviohsa]

Maeve Thistlebottom

★★★★★★

Female / Fairy / 21

Local Baker | Dropout

Baking / Healing / Potionmaking / 5'3"

Appearance

Typically adorned with dangling tassel-earrings and a hooded cloak atop humble dresses and skirts, Maeve has never been the type to give off any type of menacing aura. In fact, it is usually the opposite. Vibrant red hair contrasts pale, freckled skin that is sometimes found to have stray flour or icing on it from baking antics. Aside from her freckles, her skin is unscarred, thanks to a less physically-intensive lifestyle. She has no wings, nor pointed ears, and is therefore often mistaken as a human until her magical abilities are revealed. All in all, she is unassuming, and does not mind it. Maeve often prefers to be underestimated and looked over than be put in the spotlight.

Personality

Maeve is a rather friendly force. Inquisitive and good-natured, the fairy has typically never had a hard time making friends. However, she does have a tendency to put all of her time and energy into something that fascinates her. This leads her to unintentionally neglect those close bonds around her, or simply keep them at a superficial distance. Her whims carry a heavy weight of importance in her heart, and it leads her to make impulsive decisions that may not always be the most logical. Her spirit is rather determined and hardworking, all the while naïve to the realities of the world outside of the enchanted forest she grew up in.

positives: friendly | inquisitive | determined
negatives: impulsive | flighty | naive
likes: chocolate | reading | exploring alchemy | the countryside
dislikes: being rushed | taverns/bars | evildoers | those unappreciative of nature

Background

Born within the depths of one of the many enchanted forests of Vinalda, Maeve lived an adolescence of magic and freedom. Her parents were foragers, trading the sought after goods of the enchanted forest for money. This meant the young girl spent many days out foraging in the forest, and taking visits to the trade hubs in Astrine. Maeve heard many stories of adventurers and paladins alike, but nothing interested her quite like magic, especially potion-making. Days spent foraging with her parents turned into a hunt for ingredients, unbeknownst to her mother and father.

What was previously a simple interest turned into something of an obsession, a goal. She loved being able to help people, and eventually earn her parents more money with healing potions that contained potent ingredients from the enchanted forest. Her parents saw this too, along with the fact that she excelled in her studies on top of her potion-making. They did their best to help foster this gift of hers into something that could help her become something bigger, saving enough money to eventually allow her to attend a prestigious university in Altaire.

Upon arrival, Maeve quickly discovered that this new life in the city was nothing like she was used to. The fascination of a new beginning quickly faded once brought into a competitive environment, full of privileged individuals that simply saw magic as a tool instead of a gift. It made her feel empty, and lost. It was for this reason that she dropped out at the age of 19 (This is still unknown to her parents).

With the money she had left over from her parents, Maeve moved just outside of Altaire and found a... humble spot (a former bakery) that she thought would be perfect to open up a small shop. In the beginning, it was a simple potion shop that also sold pastries, stocked with essentials that, after a few adventurers sparked interest, flew off the shelves. However... curiosity got the better of her. What if her baked goods were able to help others?

With that, she worked to make the perfect "extract" that could go into any of her batters without affecting the taste of her food. It took long nights and days, full of trials, errors, and even explosions in the back of house. However, after a year of perfecting this temporary mood-changer, she succeeded. To say that this idea was a hit, would be an understatement. University students began flocking to study with focus-enhancing scones. Those who experienced trouble sleeping sought after a sleep-inducing cheese danish, and so on.

She continues to work at her bakery, named "Fae's Nook". It is a small, cozy shop that has only two or three tables available outside, but it is a must-stop shop for those who are departing from Altaire, since it is nestled in a town just outside of the bustling capital. What she does not know, however, is the ever-looming presence of a dark force that is watching her success from afar.

Spellbook & Abilities

Healing Touch(Green Magic): Karana spent the majority of her life honing her magic instead of learning to utilize her Exousiarch. Thus, she has limited control over her innate powers. She has no plans to upgrade her abilties.

Potionmaking/Alchemy (N/A): Maeve expressed interest from a young age in the art of Alchemy. Being able to use merely your wit and ability to use prior knowledge to perform acts of magic that can take seasoned mages years to perfect was inspiring to her. She specializes in healing potions, whether it is emotional or physical. However, she has also expanded into creating potions that emanate temporary sadness, hyper-focus, bliss, anger, lust, etc. She has created concentrates of these potions that she names 'extracts' that go into the pastries that she bakes.

Omnilinguist (Green Magic): Being not only a fairy, but mage as well, Maeve has learned to be able to speak with animals and nature around her. She had grown up with the notion that she was one with the world around her, and so she often listens in to the nature surrounding her.

KANE

CODE /

SEROBLISS

 

[RedLeftHand36]

Orpheus
The Blackcoat

• The figure you see...
• The Person you know...
• The story you won't hear...
• The other things...

• 
  

  
  Name: Thaumus Friend [No longer used], Orpheus
  
  Aliases: Blackcoat
  
  Race: More human than he seems, less human than he appears
  
  Gender: Male
  
  Sexuality: No, thank you
  
  
  

  
  Age: 42
  
  Eyes: White
  
  Hair: Black
  
  Height: 194 cm | 6'4"
  
  Weight: 83 kg | 183 lbs
  
  
• 
  

  
  Personality
  

  
  
  A cold and calculating man. Who would expect him to be so suave and savvy? And nonetheless, capable of blending in when he wishes to. Orpheus is not a good man. Manipulative as he is cunning, apathetic as he is shrewd, and oftentimes quietly egotistical. And yet wholly capable of being polite and charming, as long as it all remains in his favour. Utterly stoic, you would be hard pressed to cause him to break character. He still is, after all, cold and calculating. This is not to say, however, he behaves inhumanly. Not every warm welcome is feigned, nor pleasant tendencies forced. A man knows who his friends are, and how to keep them, and he knows his joys, and how to live them. In his favour, he is greatly benevolent and generous. In his displeasure, even at its most mild, however, there is gravely ill intent.
  

  
  

  
  Traits & Tidbits
  

  
  - Works as a freelance information broker
  
  - Known only as the Blackcoat in his business
  
  - Known primarily through criminal organisations, but technically legitimate
  
  - Excellent culinary ability
  
  - The demon's name is Vine
  
  - Orpheus' shadow changes into the shadow of Vine in moonlight; The only real difference is that the silhouette of a human head becomes that of a goat's head, but it can be quite noticeable
  
  - Particular fondness for grapes and wine
  
  - He has magic demon eyes, in case you didn't notice
  
  - Slightly mischievous, definitely likes subtly messing with random normal people [he'll deny it]
  
  - Typically communicates with vine in his head, but sometimes accidentally does it audibly
  
  - Monochromatic wardrobe
  
  - Turns out he's called the Blackcoat because he wears a big black coat. Sounds cool to him, though.
  
  - Strange fondness for the moon
  
  - Excessively patient; Capable of staying still for whole days
  
  - Really does not like rudeness
  
  - Likes to enact his own karma
  
  - Can hold a grudge forever
  
  - He's got super demon memory now so he'll remember everything about you, too
  

  
  
• 
  
  
  Once upon a time, there was a boy...
  
  A little town, coastal, and surrounded by mountains and forest. A little town, and everyone knew each other's name. A little town, and it felt like no one ever left. A little boy, and it was all he knew. In his memory... no. He can't remember anymore. Why can't he remember? Just her smile. She was the only one who found him in the woods when he lost his dog. How could he forget her name? It was so long ago, but they grew up together. But he remembers her smile. He remembers their promise. One day, they would get out of that tiny little town. One day, they would see the world. He remembers the bottom of the cliff below his house. He remembers how they would lie in the sand and stare up at the stars at night. He remembers the ramshackle treefort they built together. The sickly cat they found, and nurtured back to health together. Sitting on the docks, waiting for the fish to take the bait, she would bring him some snacks. But not her name. Not anymore.
  
  A quiet little town, where nothing ever happened. And the years passed. And the boy and girl were still there. They'd grown in their own separate ways, but they stayed the same for each other. They stayed the same, just like everything else in that little town. He remembers how sometimes, people would leave the town, and came back with things. All sorts of things. He remembers the books he read. He remembers the trinkets he fiddled with. The illustrations of exotic places with unpronounceable names that he'd show her. He remembers how they'd talk as they sat by the docks. He remembers the way she'd have him cut her hair. He remembers the way she liked it short. He remembers he wasn't very good at it. He remembers she said he was good enough. But not her name. Not anymore.
  
  A judgemental little town, where people didn't leave. Not for good. Not like they planned. But still the years passed. And still they stayed there. He remembers how quick and casual it was. How their wedding was basically just a picnic. Not that they had much to make it fancier. He remembers how his parents told him that they were glad he was staying in that little town. He remembers how people said they were glad the two came to their senses. He remembered how he hated that little town. But she made it bearable. Does love always involve the act of creation? When hands come together like a pair of puzzle pieces, is that always the result? Twins. When the children came, quiet on a rainy night, they made a choice. They had to leave. They had to escape. He remembers the weather. The rain. The thunder. The lightning. He remembers how it grew worse over the course of just a couple hours. He remembers how he had to leave for a bit, to make sure the boat didn't get destroyed. He remembers the strike of lightning. He remembers the plume of smoke. He remembers the little house they had. And he remembers how it went up in ashes.
  
  But not their names. Not anymore.
  
  _____________
  
  Once upon a time, there was a man...
  
  He remembers how he already knew where the vessel was going, even though he was never told. He remembers the dozens of maps he learned by heart to know exactly where they were at all times. Sleepless nights aboard a merchant clipper sailing south down the eastern coast of Relphia. He practically bartered his way on with trash; Various accoutrements lost to the sea that found themselves washed up on the beach back home, and within the nets he would soon come to familiarise himself with. They had certain, individual worths, meagre as they were. Trinkets sold for little coin, but numbers enough to get him what he wanted. He remembers his keen foresight towards the weather and the tides. All manner of practical knowings that could be chalked up to his life of carefully prepared wanderlust and studious nature. Of course, none of that prepared him for pirates.
  
  He remembers it as a whirlwind, a barely perceptible blur of rapid events. One moment, he was reading a book below deck. The next, on his knees on the deck of another ship, with a sword poking the back of his neck. He remembers... being angry. He wasn't about to let such a foolish conclusion come to end his first voyage out to open waters. But he wasn't a fighter. No, but he was cunning. He remembers offering undisclosed trading routes. Times, locations, supply. Bluster. He did not know for sure. But they were educated guesses. The pirates didn't know that. They never would. Because the man was right. He remembers how they brought him into the fold, and how they all laughed when he admitted the reality of his statements. They were not good people. But he remembers that they were good enough.
  
  He remembers how he got quicker and lighter on his feet. He remembers how light the stiletto dagger was in his hands. He remembers how he got better and better at sneaking up on people, and how eventually he could take a whole ship of the line filled with nothing but corpses overnight. Not that that was a common occurrence, exactly, though. He remembers parting ways with that first crew. He had to explore. But he found his trade amongst thieves and killers. Was it any wonder that that was what did him in?
  
  A different crew. A big job. He was the one who found the important thing. They waited for the cover of night. He remembers how dark it was. Even he, who had slowly grown accustomed to the dark, could just barely see. Storm clouds. He remembers how well they covered the moon and stars. He remembers the harsh winds that had muffled their sounds as they rowed out from a distance, and climbed up into the three galleons. He took the middle. Quick, quiet, and easy. A stiletto is good at being precise. They don't make much noise when you enter their skull from the top of their spine. They couldn't douse the lanterns onboard, though. Three galleons, but sided by a pair of ships of the lines and half a dozen cogs.It had to be quick and quiet. But, of course, it all went wrong. He didn't think they'd double-cross him like that. They almost blew themselves up along with him. He remembers he wasn't the only one being betrayed. It was a mutiny, after all. The captain and what loyal men he had, unfortunately, did not win. Neither did he.
  
  He remembers how it was that captain who woke him up. A brother to the one before, apparently. Mortally wounded. So was the man. But the man had longer. A shallow grave was all he could muster in his weakening state. Sooner or later, the sand would wash away, and the scavengers could take the body. The man himself, however, slowly roamed further into the nearby forest. He remembers that tiny little church, empty and forgotten for so long. He remembers the smell of moss and the freshwater creek nearby. The smell of fertile soil, and decaying wood of the pews. He sat. He thought it wouldn't be much longer. He remembers how the silvery moon finally appeared, perfectly framed by the window above the altar. The beads of the light rain on the broken glass.
  
  And the whisper that came from the shadows.
  
  "Have you come to pray?"
  
  For a moment. Silence. Then the man breathed a weary breath.
  
  "No. I'm not overly fond of the heavens above."
  
  "Then why are you here?"
  
  "Coincidence."
  
  "You could have stayed to die in the mud and grass."
  
  "I'd rather not die at all."
  
  "You're not satisfied?"
  
  "Never."
  
  "A kindred soul. Will you help me, if I helped you?"
  
  "I'd do anything."
  
  "Then we have a deal."
  
  _____________
  
  Once upon a time, there was a demon...
  
  It wasn't a demon of fire. It wasn't a demon of wrath. It was not like other demons. It did not care to be evil, because it simply didn't care about such things. Though, it did not care to be good, either. It only cared to know things. Everything. As much as it could. It would be evil to know things. It would be good to know things. From the moment it realised it existed, it only sought the answers to every question it could come up with. Inherently, it was evil. Why? Why was evil evil? Why was good good? What was the root of all things, and how did it stem into existence as we know it? To understand all things, to know all things, from the essence of the soul to the nature of the mind to the structure of the body. It was a gnawing hunger. And so grew the shadow of a goat on the edge of nothingness, peering in at reality from an outside point of view.
  
  The demon nurtured itself in places hidden and forgotten. To know reality, one must know what reality does not. The beings that inhabit reality, as the most cognitive forms of reality, should prove to be an excellent entryway into the understanding of all things. But in the demons attempts to understand them in order to understand reality, it kept to those places. Places like that little church. People like that haggard man. The shadow of a goat, with eyes to see and a hunger for all, in its nature upon secrets and hidden things, intertwined itself with things forgotten. Unmarked graves. Abandoned structures. Forests that people avoid.
  
  This man, despite all he had done, had proved unremarkable enough to the world to die alone on a plot of land with no name, in a church with no believers. And for what? For the same kind of understanding of things that the demon craved. Who were these two beings, so different in their inherent nature, but so similar in their learned nature? The shadow of a goat became the shadow of this man, and two separate voices from two separate origins merged their inherent natures for the sake of their learned natures. One body. Two halves of different souls mixed together. Two voices from the same throat, looking from the same eyes. They say that the eyes are the window to the soul. What soul was this, what was once two separate things? Swirled, mixed just enough to let two voices speak, but all else was one.
  
  A man with the shadow of a goat, and the eyes of a demon. Knowledge intertwined. And now he learns, and acts upon what he has learned. A new man, not the same as before. A name shed, and left to the dust. Someday, only he would know it. Perhaps, he already is the only one who knows it.
  
  And now he wanders.
  
  
  
• 
  Magic
  

  
  Blue-ish
  
  Orpheus has a vast collection of knowledge, much of which is deferred from an arcane nature. Although with some talent in divination, utilising his keen sense of analysis in such magic, he specialises more so in current knowledge, utilising small and harmless familiars for observation, his ability to apparate and blend into darkness to infiltrate, and his arcane eyes to see through nearly any obstacle, be it a door with only the smallest crack to peer through, around a corner with a hidden foe, or the obfuscation of a liar. He can see the dagger behind your back, and knows you're keeping your hostage in the room hidden below. His abilities allow a facade of nigh omniscience and omnipresence. Capable of near-instant processing and indefinite retaining of information, there is a reason why he is a highly valued source of knowledge, at least to those who even know of his existence.
  

  
  Theme
  

  
  
  
  
  
  
  

 

[Reanimator Buns]

Nickname: Akram | Age: 18 | Gender: Non-Binary (He/They) | Race: Merfolk - Deep Sea

Magic
Red Magic
Dance of Schooling - Shar'Akram begins a dance and chant which grants those around them a shimmering effect, which is only amplified near others, making it difficult to pin them down and attack them. Although Akram's eyes are bad, this dance instead aims to be felt through the movements in the current.
Battle Cry - The user is able to use their own power to empower others. Depending on the number, this can either not bother the user at all, or K.O. the user.
Blind-Sense - Life in the deep sea is reliant on many senses, but sight is not one of them. The Shar grant those nearby an intuitive sense of whomever might be right beside them, whether or not they are able to be seen. Though this ability is greatly enhanced in the water, it still can help on land, even if only a little. This is their primary means of sensing the world.

Equipment

Spoiler: Luminous Bident

Personality
Akram is painfully flat. He speaks in a monotonous voice, uses words literally, and over all lacks any real flavor or color that most of his kind possess. Ages in the deep has resulted in his tribe being a bit different than most. Still, what Akram lacks in force of personality, he makes up for in force of will. Day in and day out, the crushing depth and inly darkness can lead many in the deep to madness. A lack of entertainment is problematic, but that is why his people have such intense wills. He can keep himself entertained by the most mundane of activities. Even if its just bouncing his leg or playing with their fins. To that effect, the concept of modern entertainment would likely send Akram into a state of shock. To have such stimuli is a baffling concept which frightens Akram more than whatever denizens of the deep might drag him to the silty sea floor.

History
The deep sea tribe of Shar lives in cave systems from ancient and dead sea vents. Their tails have evolved into two separate fins, which work more like legs, allowing for easy striding across the sea floor. With so little light, many are born blind, as Akram was. Life on the sea floor is wrought with perils and dangers. It is not uncommon for only 1 child of the Shar to reach adulthood in any given generation. For Akram, he was that child. Akram, and all his tribe spend much of their time meditating and learning how their movements shape the currents and how, conversely, those currents shape them. How the secrets of Red Magic made its way into the deep abyss is a mystery. Perhaps it actually originated here. But that is not a matter which concerns the Shar.

As for Akram, the Shar are fairly solitary. After maturing, he was to set off on his own. Hopefully he would one day meet another of his kind and they would continue their lineage. While out exploring, Akram came across an old wreckage of a boat. There he found a bident, pristine, even in the salty brine. An excellent choice for his hunts towards lighter waters, as well as against the denizen's of the deep. This bident had grown a fair amount of bioluminescent bacteria, which gave it a glow, in spite of his lack of ability to really register the change.

As for what Shar'Akram seeks? Well... Perhaps a purpose? The Shar live the vast majority of their life growing in darkness, their only goal is to survive. Akram has done that. What else awaits him? Seeking purpose from the shallows can either lead him to greater heights and enlightenment, or reveal that his life is one that exists in darkness.

Theme:
Also working on it
​

 

[Refaulted]

Agvol 'Volly' Brantwood
Ravos


Age: 218

Gender: Male

Race: Dwarf

Magic:
N/A

Occupation:
Traveling Botanist/Teacher​

Former Assassin
​

Likes:
- Sightseeing
- Tending to his plants
- Stargazing
- Company
- Pastries
- Smoking
- Painting

Dislikes:
- Violence
- Cold weather
- Crowds
- Rodents
- Being surrounded

Personality:
When he isn't resting atop his wagon and basking in the sunlight, Volly can be found tending to the herbs and plants he grows within. He is generally aloof, taking each day in stride and finding time to enjoy the little things. His relaxed nature makes him easy to walk up to and speak with, and his knowledge of different subjects and many stories makes anyone feel at ease as they listen to him speak. He is a kind soul, taking good care of himself and others, be they the plants he grows or the guests he invites within. His knowledge of anatomy and medicine tends to make him seem like a miracle worker, though he denies this and chalks it all up to years of practice and devotion to his work. Those that meet him tend to describe him as 'a grandpa they have just met'.

But what Volly truly enjoys is helping the ones that are lost, searching for themselves or heading down darker paths. He reaches out to them, doing his best to aid them and steer them to greener pastures. Those that he has helped mention that they would not be where they are without him, but also take note of how he seems to be stricter with them compared to others that pass through. He is still kind, and offers a hand when needed, but he becomes a tad more disciplinary. Sometimes he grows quiet, contemplative, and almost distracted, but he comes back to himself when his name is called.

Background:

Spoiler

Ravos never knew if he had any family. No parents, brothers, sisters, grandparents or uncles. As long as he remembered, he was on his own, living with others impoverished on the streets of a city he can barely remember in his old age. He ran with gangs of children, stealing food and valuables to live another day. He learned to fend for himself, not relying on anyone else unless absolutely necessary. He learned to fight from watching older children brawl over scraps. He learned to steal from watching children beg and slip their hands into the pockets of others. He learned to run and hide when necessary, allowing his instincts to take over. As time went on, Ravos became a symbol of fear among those that lived on the streets, using his wits to outsmart those around him and being brutal when necessary, making sure no one stood up to him. Those that did, did not for last long.

As Ravos grew up, from a teenager to a young adult, he realized this was not a way he could live forever. He did his best to set himself on a better path, looking for work as a laborer or anything close to it so he could make some coin and not resort to skimming the edge of the law to survive each day. Due to his reputation, however, work was hard to come by, aside from the occasional debt collection job he could get his hands on. As he was ready to give up hope, he came across a small alcjhemists shop looking for someone to help lug around supplies and do physical work when needed, run by an older man named Irving. Irving gave Ravos the job, and for a number of years Ravos enjoyed the steady income, moving off of the streets into a small storage room within the store.

Spoiler

For the first time in his life, he did not have to fight to live, and he imagined that he could grow out of the reputation he had made for himself and live an honest life.

One night, a number of years after Ravos had been working with Irving, he was settling down to sleep for the night when he heard a strange noise. Curious, and fearing a burglary, he investigated the disturbance to find three individuals rummaging around in the shop. A fight broke out, Ravos doing his best to simply subdue them and turn them over to the authorities. However, once he had subdued them and was preparing to leave to contact the guards, he noticed that the door was not broken in, but had been unlocked. He checked the belongings of the thieves, and found the shop key Irving always had. He feared the worst, and locked the thieves in his room as he went to where the old man lived. Upon finding his mangled body, in a fit of despair and irrationality, Ravos returned to the store, locking himself inside with the thieves for days.

A week passed, and when the doors to the shop finally unlocked and Ravos stepped out, covered in dirt and blood, the stench of death followed him. Guards were called, arresting him after finding the corpses of the thieves, burned with acids and torn apart slowly, visibly tortured over a long period of time. When questioned about what happened, Ravos would say nothing, and only ask that whatever money was left in the store was used to pay for the funeral of Irving. He was eventually set for execution.

On the day of his scheduled death, Ravos received a visitor, a young gentleman who called himself Kiyren. The man offered Ravos a chance to continue living, in exchange for working for him. Ravos, with the only other choice being the end of himself, accepted the man's offer, and using a potion that made his body appear dead, was snuck out of the prison he was in, and he began his new life: an assassin working for a group known as the White Moon.

For nearly a century, Ravos served the White Moon, carrying out jobs for clients to kill others for money. He was not alone, working alongside numerous other specialized killers that used all manner of techniques to silence their targets. Over the years, Ravos developed his own method: poison derived from numerous different plants and fungi, extracted and made deadlier through alchemical techniques to create potent poisons and acids. He was revered by his colleagues for his ruthlessness and abilities, and earned himself the moniker 'The Green Demise'.

Years passed, and Ravos was only supposed to be out for another simple job: kill the son of a mayor in some small town to strike fear into his heart. Easy enough in theory. However, during his travels he was ambushed by a group of bandits. Beaten to near death, he managed to make an escape into the woods nearby, evading his assailants before passing out due to the blood loss he had sustained. When he next came to, he found himself in a room he did not recognize, his wounds bandaged and his hand bound. Before he could look for ways to escape, a woman with wings entered the room. A fairy. She interrogated him, trying to find out as much about him as possible, such as why he was bleeding in the woods and why he had such dangerous tools on him. Ravos gave either misleading or no answers, much to the woman's annoyance, but she still set some food down for him and helped him eat. Over the next few days, she helped nurse Ravos back to health.

During that time, she introduced herself as Giyan Brantwood, and she was an artist who wanted to one day travel the world, painting whatever struck her as beautiful. She asked Ravos much about the world outside of the woods, and he spoke of places he had been, leaving out information about his true profession, and simply describing himself as an herbalist. The two began to grow close, with Ravos hiding away with her within the woods, finding himself enjoying her company, and the peace that came along with the small cottage she stayed in. Giyan, of course, enjoyed listening to all of Ravos's stories about the many cities he has visited and places he had seen. She also had him teach her how to make more vibrant paints from the plants she used. Over time, their mutual feelings of friendship grew into a stronger companionship, which in turn formed into love. They created rings for each other out of the thick barks of the trees in the woods, and for the first time in a long time, Ravos felt at peace.

A couple decades passed, with Giyan and Ravos making a living in the woods, with Ravos leaving on occasion to gather supplies from a town a few miles away. While there, he was noticed by an older man, an older Kiyren, who had believed that Ravos was dead. He followed Ravos in secret back to the dwarf's home, where he saw the life he was living. The next time Ravos went to the town, Kiyren approached him in disguise, explaining he was a courier for the White Moon and that his presence was required at their headquarters. Ravos, suspicious but worried about keeping his wife a secret, agreed to return. He informed Giyan that he had to take a long trip, and Giyan was upset that he would not take her with him, but they parted, with Ravos promising he would return promptly, and Giyan promising that she would be waiting.

Ravos returned to the White Moon, and found himself caught up in a new and dangerous job: to eradicate a rival assassin's guild Altair. Should he complete this task, his debt to the White Moon would come to an end. Ravos, excited to be free of this life, accepted the job. Many others of the White Moon considered this mission suicide, but after five days, Ravos returned with the heads of each member of the leadership of the rival guild. The leaders of the White Moon honored their promise, freeing him of his binds to the group. However, as Ravos began to leave, he was ambushed by other members of the White Moon, who believed he was a coward and he had lost his edge in his time gone. They overpowered him, and promised to help him see how much better he was as a killer by killing the only thing keeping him from their grasp. Upon realizing they meant Giyan, he found strength in his rage to escape, and set off for his home.

Even from a distance, he saw the columns of smoke from the patch of woods he called home. He dodged between burning branches and smoldering roots, eventually finding his burning home. He cared little for his own safety as he ran through the door, the heat stinging his eyes. He didn't care that the flames scorched his feet and arms as he ran through each room, calling Giyan's name. Eventually, he found her in their bedroom, laying motionless on their bed as the flames billowed around her. He hastily picked her up and ran out of the house with her, finding a spot where the flames weren't so intense. He quickly made salves to begin to dress the burn marks she had sustained, and potions to help with the smoke she had inhaled, and in his desire to help her he did not realize she was already too far gone. He would not forget the last words she spoke to him:

"I kept my promise..."

Once the flames died down, and a fresh rain eased the smoke from the land, he buried her in the garden she used to grow her flowers that made her paints.

Over the next decade, Ravos waged a war on the White Moon. It started with sabotaging their jobs, using his connections over the years to figure out where they would strike to anonymously inform authorities where attacks would be. Eventually, as the White Moon changed the way they accepted jobs, he began to kill rookie assassins that joined the group, causing their recruitment to plunge. When no new blood was joining them, he started to target the more senior members, hunting them down to their homes or on jobs and killing each of them with their own trademark. Eventually, with the rest of the organization dead or in jail, Ravos went for his last target: Kiyren. It was easy to find the old man, who once had so much power of Ravos, but had become nothing more than a husk of what he once was. Kiyren wanted Ravos to kill him, but instead, Ravos forced the old man to continue living, giving him herbs that hurt him but allowed his body more time to live. Ravos kept Kiyren in constant agony, being begged to kill the man, but Ravos ignored his pleas, 'caring' for him until the mans heart could no longer take it. When his last breath left his body, Ravos hung him from the front of his own home, a sign of warning to anyone coming after him.

With his mission finished, Ravos pondered ending his life. As far as he was aware, he had no reason to keep going. He was back to being alone. He traveled for some time, going around the continent to weigh his options, until he ended up returning to the burned forest. In the time he had been gone, plants and other wildlife had began growing from the ashen earth. When he found the site of his old home, the boards that still stood were covered in vines blossoming white flowers, and the colorful flowers he and Giyan planted years ago were spread about the clearing, and Ravos made his decision: he would be reborn. He would shed who he was, and do what he and Giyan could never do by traveling the world with what time he had left, enjoying the beauty that was out there instead of focusing on everything that was ugly. With wood from the forest, he fashioned a wagon, and purchased a young horse from a farmer close by. He visited Giyan one more time, and set off, looking for a brighter horizon.

Theme:

Spoiler

​

 

[Goonfire]

​

• Basics
• Persona
• Abilities
• History

• 
  Name: Rhada Yolanda Sybille
  Nickname: Master Rhada
  Age: 55
  Gender: Female
  Race: Half-Elf
  Magic: Blue
  Occupation: Head of the Altair Enchanters Guild
  
• 
  Appearance:
  Rhada is a relatively tall woman, measuring 5'11. She usually wears her long gray hair in elegant but easy half-updos. She adorns herself with several items with minor enchantments, such as glasses of truesight. Her robes are various shades of blue with white, yellow, and/or orange accents. Her bag often contains scholarly texts, scrolls, and the like.
  
  Likes: Books, enchanting, cleanliness, gold, silk, pie, interpreting dreams
  Dislikes: Ignorance, filth, doctors, onions, poor manners, irrationality, Blackmoon Syndicate
  
  Personality:
  Rhada has seen much in the city of Altair throughout her lifetime, from economic growth to high-profile criminal activity. She has witnessed the coming and going of exotic foreigners, and seized the opportunity to enter into dialog with them. Such experiences have left her with a profound wisdom few scholars possess. Though she is an intellectual, she doesn't discount those who are less well-studied than she. People come from all walks of life, and their experiences leave them with a different blend of knowledge and wisdom that she couldn't have learned in her environment, making them nonetheless valuable. Outside of her life's work, Rhada is known to give sound relationship advice. After all, it is only right and just for someone who has lived and loved to impart their wisdom upon those who ask.
  
  As the Enchanters Guildmaster, Rhada serves as both a mentor and a leader. She encourages and facilitates the growth of students' talents, while also making every enchanter's work part of a coordinated effort. Though she has a very even temper, accepts that the Guild isn't for everyone, and even supports independent efforts, she also tends to pull strings when someone attempts to undermine and sabotage that which is already in place. She is firm in her belief that a house divided cannot stand, so she feels justified in any meddling to keep the Guild and the merchant houses of Altair united. There is no room for the Blackmoon Syndicate and similar criminal organizations; that she makes painfully clear.
  
• 
  Spells:
  
  • Identify - The user can focus on the traces of magic in the immediate area. An aura visible only to the user appears around an enchanted item, and further focusing on it reveals its intended purpose in the broadest sense. For example, an enchanted ornamental sword might be a key, while a peculiar pair of glasses is a divination tool. A purpose-built enchanted lens is required to use this spell effectively.
  • Poison Sense - When looking through a divination lens while this spell is active, the user can see a green glow within an item such as a dagger or a drink, indicating it contains dangerous toxins.
  • Scrying - Using a special scrying pool or mirror, the user can go through a lengthy process to spy on a person, including seeing them and eacesdropping. The vision can last up to an hour before exhaustion sets in, as the sustained effort is draining. An article belonging to the target is needed to cast the spell; otherwise, there is a 95% chance the effort is wasted.
  • Guidance - While the users instructs their target, this spell helps break down the literal meaning of the words, increasing the target's comprehension of the knowledge imparted on them. As a trade-off, this comprehension is fleeting, and is no substitute or shortcut to true mastery. Best used when failure of a task such as a repair, an enchantment, or an investigation isn't an option.
  Equipment:
  
  • Double-barreled Pistol - A wheellock model with two separate firing mechanisms and short barrels in an over/under configuration. Not incredibly powerful, but loud and intimidating. The butt can be used to club attackers.
  • Divination lens - A special item used as a catalyst for blue magic. It resembles a magnifying glass.
  • Glasses of Truesight - Fairly standard gear for an enchanter to have. They reveal objects rendered invisible or otherwise altered or obfuscated by illusions.
• 
  Background:
  In her early life, Rhada enjoyed the luxury of the best teachers and tutors money could afford. Her parents, who were wealthy merchants, often crossed paths with brilliant minds who shared profound wisdom with them, and they wanted their eldest daughter to receive such teachings. Rhada was trained thoroughly in blue magic, an art focused around divination and insight.
  
  During her time in university, Rhada began frequenting the enchanter's shop, where she became better acquainted with its proprietor, Delphine. The latter approached the former with the offer of an apprenticeship after three years and countless speculations and tests of Rhada's blue magic to identify the enchantments. Her family's mercantile background shone through, as she developed a solid business sense while also finally doing more than simply analyzing the merchandise. She proved to be an unstoppable force, excellent at whatever studies she put her mind to. Fifteen years later, she was an accomplished enchanter.
  
  As the aging and ailing Delphine neared her inevitable death, she had to name a successor, someone to take up the mantle of Altair's master enchanter. One potential candidate was her other student, Yezebelle. Rhada and Yezebelle were never friends, as something simply seemed off about the former. It was tough for the lifelong scholar to put her finger on what exactly unsettled her about this competitive and catty woman, who wore several "fashionable" pins, including a stylized crescent moon that couldn't be found at any jeweler's shop. Delphine's health problems had also grown considerably worse after about six years training Yezebelle, who recommended an "excellent doctor". Rhada finally did some snooping, spying and scrying on her rival to discover her angle. It took weeks to catalog and scrutinize the shady woman's life, but the blue mage uncovered a criminal scheme to take over the enchanter's business. The exacerbated health problems were signs and symptoms of poisoning, which the doctor purposely overlooked. The Blackmoon Syndicate, which already had a foothold in most major cities, was to blame.
  
  Though Yezebelle's masters were never found, she was brought to justice. Delphine was able to die with peace of mind, having named Rhada Sybille her successor. The ambitious new master decided to grow this business into a guild, accepting other enchanters from across the world. Rhada now mentors students and nurtures their ambition, hoping they will bring about a golden age of enchantments when she is long-gone. The little shop saw several expansions into a two-story guild hall. The lower level became a sort of miniature bazaar in which people sold their enchanted goods, while the second floor was dedicated to management and teaching. Rhada herself uses her spells for quality assurance purposes.
  

 

[RedLeftHand36]

Vertric Arvern
The Dragon of Kokus

• This is him...
• This is how he is...
• This is how he was...
• This is the other stuff...

• 
  

  
  Name: Vertric Arvern
  
  Aliases: The Dragon of Kokus
  
  Race: A giant of a giant
  
  Gender: Male
  
  Sexuality: Doesn't matter as long as it distracts him
  
  
  

  
  Age: 227
  
  Eyes: Grey
  
  Hair: Dark auburn, with specks of sleet grey
  
  Height: 305 cm | ~10 feet
  
  Weight: 375 kg | 827 lbs
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
• 
  

  
  Personality
  

  
  
  A quiet man with an ever-furrowed brow, Vertric is as stern as he is stoic. Incredibly pragmatic, he is someone who would look at a seemingly impossible knot, and instead of attempting to untie it, he would instead cut it in twain. The man has exactly the mind you would expect out of a master blacksmith and experienced mercenary, with a certain kind of tactical patience paired with a certain irritation towards foolishness. That is not to say he is a cold and joyless person, though. For all his wearied callousness, Vertric is a man of passion, dedicated to his craft just as one would suspect, yet never blind to what life has to offer. No less, he has grown more and more emotionally distant from others over the years, from the cracks in his hands and the trauma in his mind. Occasionally, one might see the hint of something akin to a worried father, and other times, a ruthless warrior with a number of victories for the countless scars across his body.
  
  

  
  

  
  Traits & Tidbits
  

  
  
  
  Vertric's great-mace
  8'9"/2.7 meters long
  
  - Known for a specialized smithing technique that utilizes his magic
  
  - Only ever bares arms and armor that he makes himself
  
  - Has a preference for heavy plate armor and a massive style of greatmace
  
  - Has a fondness for seafood
  
  - Tendency to drink himself to sleep
  
  - Penchant for brothels
  
  - Could go buck naked into a snowstorm and not feel a thing
  
  - Red hot iron "feels a bit warm against my skin"
  
  - Tests his weapons and armor himself by utilizing them during sport-fights
  
  -Experienced in siege warfare
  
  - Not a half-bad sailor, but would never use a small vessel
  
  - Not fond of heights
  
  - Not at all
  
  - If he's not silent, he's honest, and if he's not honest, he's silent
  
  - ALWAYS hungry
  
  - Loves dogs
  
  - Suffers from severe night terrors
  
  

  
  
• 
  
  
  
  How many years has it been?
  
  The scent of smoke permeates the giant. The smell has followed him his whole life. As the campfire burns, there is a recollection of a long lived life, and the ghosts of the past that haunt it still. Once, Vertric was but a child, as all mortal beings once were. Through painstakingly distant memories, a little farm lay under sunny skies in northern Magbar. Tall grass danced in the soft wind, and all the while, a father hauls in their dinner for that night; an entire stag. A mother has it hanged near the freshly picked berries, straight from the nearby groves. The smell of the meat is masked by the little garden just outside, and the purple and pink hues of freesia moved like that tall grass. Any memory worth smiling about is drowned out by the sound of a blizzard, and the father never came back with the medicine that mother needed. In retrospect, living so far away from everyone else had doomed them in consideration of unlikely circumstances.
  
  In sorrow, the house burned like the funeral pyres he had built with his hands.
  
  Kokus was just about everything he had expected when his father's friend took him in. A dwarf who ran a forge. A typical thing, but such a stereotype did not hinder the notable mastery. Hrimnir was his name. In the relatively uneventful days, weeks, months, years to come, Vertric offered his talent to the hammer and anvil just as well. A natural born prodigy, as his tutor in the craft would say. An affinity for fire and metal. Of course Vertric would pride himself in his own craft, but there was always the proverbial hole. Of course there was. All those years of hapiness. All those years of grief. All those years of monotony. A soul mixes and swirls as it grows, swallowing everything around it like a maelstrom out at sea. And so who could blame him when that first chance to break the repetition?
  
  They were called the Stormbreakers. A group of a variety of races, elbeit mostly giant, dwarf, and human. Sellswords, mercenaries, bodyguards, private militia. They performed a veritable menagerie of tasks, for the right coin of course. Their captain and commander, an old, worldly giant with a great mane and long beard of hair as white as freshly fallen snow, had come to acquire equipment for his men. That was how they first met. Even in his youth, Vertric was especially sizeable, even for a giant. But Harbard, and several among his company, claimed similar stature, one of which was named Erik, who was the tallest giant he'd ever seen, and believed to exist. This was a factor of many reasons, asides from Vertric's sense of unfullfilment, and an idea of a smith to travel among them, that led to Vertric joining the Stormbreakers. The farewell between Vertric and Hrimnir was charged with its fair share of emotion, but also with understanding.
  
  The years passed with a trial and tribulation for every season. But it was worth it. There are many tales to tell around a campfire of the Stormbreakers. Nothing world-changing, but many quests and adventures done by the company to warrant assurance that they would get whatever job was given to them done. For so long, they had been well off. But one might suppose all good things have to come to an end. But Vertric didn't think it'd end like that. He never wanted it to end like that.
  
  The western border of Whitshell had always been a dangerous place. The Stormbreakers had come in as temporary reinforcements against the some of Banished's dangers that attempted to break the line. Of course it was dangerous. They had all always been doing dangerous things. But something went wrong. How did those creatures know what was going to happen. It all escalated into a bloody clash, and by the end... the Stormbreakers won? No. They didn't win. They just didn't let the evil of the Banished win either. Corpses strewn amongst the ground, and the Stormbreakers were left with only a handful of men to pick up the pieces. All the corpses were already burning. Of all the encounters they had, this was too much. The shreds of what was left of their company disbanded, and went their own, lone ways.
  
  Of all the former Stormbreakers, Vertric never changed his ways. He stayed a sellsword, and marched along the world at large. An odd job here, a monster bounty there, sometimes breaking in new adventurers to the craft. But ultimately, he was now a lone wanderer.
  
  And so he marched...
  
  
  
  
• 
  Magic
  

  
  White-ish
  
  Vertric has an affinity for fire, prominent anough to utilize his bare hand when forging weapons and armor. The use of the idom of 'the heat of battle' becomes quite literal, as during intense situations, the immediate area surrounding Vertric will begin to heat up to immense degrees, sometimes to the point of seting fire to combustable materials, or leaving scorch marks as foot and hand-prints.
  

  
  Theme
  

  
  
  
  
  
  
  

 

[Huntertabbysandshark3]

Name: Asher Felforge
Nickname: ash
Age: 110 (that is like adult teens for a giant right?)
Gender: Male
Height: 9'5 feet
Race: half-giant half beast folk (pronghorn)

Magic: White magic
quick repairs: primarily used to fix damaged items and objects up or put them back together almost like a welding torch but for everything.

minor modification: allow some additions to be added to a weapon or tool mid-battle like extending a blade or making it sharper even adding or removing weight.

Occupation: Blacksmith/traveling adventuerer

Skills:
Smithing
Swordsmanship
guitar playing

equipment: 10-foot-long steel sword, plate chest piece

Likes:
music, metalwork, tea, swords

Dislikes: loud sharp noises (that aren't related to metalworking of course), cooking (he can't help but ruin everything he tries to cook)

Personality: Asher is generally a chill guy to be around and fairly laid back most of the time mixing the introverted and extroverted heritages of his bloodlines into a well rather milk toast personality all things considered just a chill relaxed guy to be around, but when he is taking things seriously not much changed he simply becomes a fair bit quieter and focuses on the task at hand.

Background: Asher spent most of his childhood working with his mother who was unsurprisingly a giant his father was a local miner and not seeing him all that much but it was boring as hell sure he enjoyed blacksmithing but.. when you're in a backwater town with nothing much to do but fix tools something Asher had grown particularly good at via magical means once again thanks to his mother's tutoring, well it was just plan unfulfilling he wanted to see the world do something with his life at least. so taking a sword and his own knowledge he set out to explore the world, picking up on how to use his oversized blade along the way and hoping it would be at least interesting, but only time would tell.

Appearance:

Theme(Optional):

 

[Thropian]

Name: Blakern Bloodsteel
Nickname:
Age: 198
Gender: Male
Race: Dwarf
Height: 4'4
Magic(Optional):
Red:
Lend Me Your Strength (An inversion of normal red magic, Blakern borrows the strength of those nearby if they are willing to lend it.)

Occupation: Paladin, demon hunter.

Likes:
Joyous songs
Bright and cheerful paintings
The sounds of children laughing
Dislikes:
Brutalists, people who think everyone must be a warrior
Hostility
Sudden loud noises

Personality:
Blakern is a friendly fellow, though he tries not to talk about himself. He does spend his time trying to ensure those around him are safe, comfortable, and happy. When conflicts arise, he will try to end them with words first, but won't back down if physicality is needed. He will apologize afterwards though, regardless of if he truly won or not.

Background:
Blakern doesn't talk much about his past. Only that he witnessed a war that ended his people. He claims to have won the war, though it's unclear if he means himself or his people won. Aside from the war, he will talk about his family. This is always in the past tense, but always of joyful moments and the things they did, or at least tried to, teach him. He is wistful about not having learned the metallurgy techniques his parents invented, to create the black metal tools used to slay demons.

Appearance:
Old and road weary, darkly tanned and wind burnt, balding on top but thickly bearded. Any skin shown from under his travel leathers is scarred, burned, or both. He is clearly a man who has seen battle, and nearly died at least once.
Upon his back he keeps his trusty black metal axe, engraved and gilded with dwarven runes. "Remember the dead, save the living." line the edge of the curved blade.


IMAGE SOURCE

 

[Anaxileah]

Click Tabs

• Tab
• Tab
• Tab
• Tab

• KALMIA PRIMROSE

  ALIAS

  Thorne / Flora
  

  NAME

  Kalmia Primrose [kal-mee-uh]
  

  NICKNAMES

  Kal, Mia, Thorne, Flora
  

  
  

  GENDER

  Female
  

  AGE

  152 years old
  

  SPECIES

  Faerie
  

  SEXUALITY

  Pansexual
  

  
  

  POWERS

  Green Magic & White Magic
  

  OCCUPATION

  Courtesan in Altair
  

  CODEMAKER

  Ambiloquous

  HER STORY

  
  When one looks upon the mirror of reflection, one's gaze tends to meet their childhood selves and recognizes innocence as they face their identity — not Kalmia Primrose, daughter of two lifeless corpses that carry no meaning to the woman staring into the painted glass. Shards of a broken childhood lie scattered on the ground around her, flashbacks of torment and abuse buried into her flesh as she stands, wondering why life has forsaken her so. Should she apologize for the color of her hair or the origin of her life? For being born? These such wounds were caused by the words of her father, a man hell bent on destroying the love her mother had created with another man, a human. Hatred and bitterness were cruel, but no murderer, as she was still breathing to this day — much to her dismay.
  
  Nightmarish memories of being starved and beaten renew her resentment towards humans, fueling her desire for revenge towards the unlucky surrogates responsible for the abuse her father bestowed upon her — without humans, her blood would not be mixed, nor would she be a victim of the violence her father so craved — at least, these were the rehearsed words filling her conscious as she committed to her duties as thief and murderess. A brief respite of love interrupted the spree that she began, only to introduce her to a new arsenal of tangled lies and betrayal.
  
  

  RELATIONSHIPS

  
  Family
  Mother - Deceased
  Father - Deceased
  Biological Father - Deceased
  
  Allies/Friends
  TBD
  
  Enemies
  TBD
• PERSONAL DETAILS

  PERSONALITY

  
  Flirtatious, sadistic, and downright mischievous, Kal will do whatever she deems necessary to fulfill her goals, unless it conflicts with her very few morals. Ultimately, she wishes for stability, safety, and to fill the gaping holes of her heart with anything that will fit. The few rules she must follow along the way consist of: never lie, never betray an ally, and never fall. Outside of her intense needs to fulfill her desires, she is sociable, had a wicked sense of humor, and is rather smart, often flaunting her intelligence when her beauty doesn't do the trick. To allies, she is a thorn(e) in their sides, but a reliable one, always hiding aloft with her bow at the ready or prepared with a strategic escape in mind.
  
  

  HISTORY

  
  Kalmia Primrose was born in the Wyldes of northern Vinalda, a region of forest known for being particularly against other races, especially humans, due to concerns of deforestation and altercations with elitist human factions. Of course, Kal was unlucky enough to be born to her mother and one of the rogue humans that made their way into the tribes of their home, taking refuge with her mother and eventually making love to her. This event brought forth Kalmia's birth and her hatred for humans, as her father abused her and resented her for being born to another man, a human male, rather than he, as though it were the child's fault. She was not the only victim to his hand, however, as he would beat her mother, clipping her wings as punishment for betraying their marriage, which was done in front of the young faerie child he himself did not bear.
  
  Kal took the beatings without complaint after she grew used to them — he left her wings untouched for whatever reason — even as she grew to adulthood and continued to live with her mother and father, the corpse of the shitty human who ruined her life buried at the base of their tree as a reminder to what happened to those who betray the family. Still, it had to come to an end eventually. Shortly after her mother had died from the grief and abuse, Kal felt something other than the nothing she had experienced for the last several years and directed it towards the bastard with a dagger in hand as he slept. The rage she felt transferred over to the humans, inspired by her people's elitist discrimination toward the people and her resentment towards her biological father, traveling from her home in Vinalda to the lands of Relphia, with the intent on killing those she came across.
  
  Though she was determined to take vengeance out on the surrogates for her birth givers, exhaustion would take her as she journeyed night and day without rest, causing her to collapse at the border of Vinalda and Relphia, not far from a tiny hamlet where she would meet her lover. She stayed at the hamlet for several months with her strained wings, repaying the kindness she was given by the strangers there by doing odd jobs and communicating with the animals or plants to aid with the gathering of resources. Chatting quickly turned into secret gatherings and romantic evenings, then into sleepless nights of a happiness and joy she had never felt in life. Again, it was not meant to last — the events that spurred her birth repeated themselves, this time with her lover and another woman, another human.
  
  Enraged, betrayed, and confused, she moved on from the hamlet after severely wounding him in ways he could not heal from and made her way to the capital of Altair, determined to make a life for herself, whatever that may be. Taking up skills and habits such as thievery, debauchery, and manipulation, Kal eventually took on the role of courtesan, using it to steal what she could from unsuspecting victims, kill those who deserved it, and have fun while she was at it — mainly to forget her former lover, now eunuch. The thief known as Thorne made a name for themselves, and the courtesan Flora became a preferred courtesan among the nobles. In present day, she is not sure where she wants her life to take her, but she is conflicted and beginning to question her desires.
• APPEARANCE

  STYLES & COLOURS

  HAIR STYLE

  Long, straight, occasionally wrapped up in braids adorned by flowers.
  

  HAIR COLOUR

  Emerald Green
  

  EYE COLOUR

  Same shade of emerald green as her hair with flecks of gold throughout.
  

  SKIN COLOUR

  Pale as porcelain with green flecks akin to freckles dotting her nose, cheeks, collarbones, and shoulders.

  WINGS & WEAR

  WING TYPE

  Siproeta stelenes - Green Butterfly
  

  WING COLOR

  Black with sections of light green.
  

  WING MECHANICS

  When she is not using her wings, they are folded up and rest against her back, sticking out approximately 6 inches from her skin. When she is using them, they are spread out similarly to a butterfly's and flap in the same fashion. Any clothing she wears usually has slots for her wings to fold through, and despite their appearance, they are rather durable.
  

  ATTIRE

  Her attire usually incorporates plants and leaves, similar to her pictures, but when she dons clothing fit for humans and the general public, it consists of a white or purple dresses fitting for a dancer. When it comes to combat, she wears her archer gear, usually consisting of an archer's tunic, boots, some leather armor, her quiver, and dagger harnesses.

  MEASUREMENTS & SPECIFICATIONS

  HEIGHT

  5 feet 3 inches (160 centimeters)
  

  WEIGHT

  102 pounds (46 kilograms)
  

  SCARS & TATTOOS

  To be revealed~
  

  MISCELLANEOUS

  Her "freckles" seem to glitter or sparkle in the sunlight.
• SKILLS & EXTRA

  POWERS & ABILITIES

  
  Green Magic
  As most faeries, Kal was born with innate green magic, allowing her to perform the most basic of healing abilities, commune with animals and plants, and provide nourishment for living beings. Due to her past, she has a close relationship with the trees of her homeland and is very familiar with the trees in Altair, allowing her to borrow their bark for a protective outer layer, especially when treating dangerous wounds.
  
  There is a darker side to her green magic use — if she sacrifices her blood to the nature of Innixus, she becomes bound to the plant life around her and may command it to do her bidding, imbuing it with her power. Depending on the plantlife she is bound to, they can have certain special abilities: thorny vines can pierce and entangle, trees can ground and crush, carnivorous plants can do a nibble, and so on.
  
  White Magic
  This magic is still rather new to Kal, but she has gathered enough knowledge on the magic to turn small objects into weapons for necessity or create makeshift arrows on the fly cause she's a faerie, ha ha. She is still practicing this magic in an attempt to improve it, but is currently without a teacher, so progress is slow.
  
  

  
  

  THEME

  
  

  
  

  MISC

  
  Likes
  Strawberries
  Dancing
  Fae Forests
  Rain
  Archery
  
  Dislikes
  Humans
  Eggplant
  Close Quarter Combat
  Lies/Liars
  Darkness

Scroll

 

[Grangrule]

Matheus Klein Clearhart
Alchemist of Green, Green Sprout, The Secretive Poison Dealer

​

Age:
32

Gender:
Male

Race:
Human

Height:
6'2"

Weight:
178lbs

Magic:
Green Magic

Rapid First-Aid - Matheus' proficiency in the healing aspect of Green Magic only allows him to quickly heal minimal wounds and easing the pain as well as lessening the effects of any poison inflicted to an individual.

Natural Recourse - Most of Matheus Green Magic prowess lies within this ability. Natural Recourse allows Matheus to determine the natural properties of certain things and substances, this magic is best and highly applicable to potions and mixtures, changing healing properties into harmful effects and vice-versa without the need of a laboratory and specific expensive alchemy equipment. Changing Negative Concoctions into their Positive mirror is an easy and instant process for Matheus, however, shifting Positive potions into harmful or alternative effects requires specific materials/ingredients but with the help of Natural Recourse, the time to create these mixtures requires little to no waiting.

Lotus Haze - A Green Magic taught by his mentor, Olivia Maplespring. It spews out a thick mist from a specific concoction that has both a tranquil and therapeutic effect but has a minor hallucinogen within the fog that gradually worsens the longer a person stays inside. Matheus is unaffected by the mist however and can clearly see and identify any individuals that are caught inside the mist.

Overgrowth - Matheus can quickly induce the growth of plant-life where they can even pass the limits of their properties or specific characteristics such as size. This ability was taught to him by his mentor, Olivia Maplespring when she introduced him a rare plant that can absorb most liquid substances, increase its quantity, and spread them like rain in an area. Olivia thought it would be fitting to be used together with his ability to make high-class potions.

Occupation:
Alchemist, Merchant

​

Likes:
+ Herbs & Plants

+ Alchemy

+ Newly Found Organisms and Species

+ Mushroom Soup

+ His Mentor

Dislikes:
- Insults towards his Mentor

- People insisting and pestering him to create poison constantly

- People that are too touchy with his belongings

- Wasting Potions and mixtures

- Distractions and Interruptions when working

Personality:
Free-spirited and Passionate of plant-life, Matheus is a man of unconventional methods from alchemy to daily life, he is extremely critical and observant from years of analyzing. He also has a very caring attitude towards others as he prioritizes making more healing mixtures and suggesting medicinal herbs that can help treat injuries and illnesses. He is strong-willed and is unfazed by most things, rarely getting mad and irate ever since he was differentiated from his peers in his days in the academia, his strong-will also gave rise to his persistence since the fact that he cannot learn practical healing Green Magic, it did not stop him from becoming a professional alchemist. He is however, irritable and easily agitated once he starts working on his mixtures an becomes immersed in alchemy. This level Dedication and speck of Professionalism is the reason why he became the Alchemist of Green in the academe. A man with a passion for Alchemy and Nature, dedicated to its purpose and proper utilization.

Background:
The Clearharts were previously a recognized noble family that slowly fell over the years. Matheus' family, losing their heritage, lived in the countryside of Altair selling herbs and plants that are local to Altair as well as a variety from passing traders. Since he was a child, Matheus was interested in plants and herbs which led him to work in the family's herbal shop known as the Clearhart Herbs, which became a recognized store in Altair's countryside at a younger age of 8. Two years later, a faerie stopped by the Clearhart Herbs to buy specific ingredients for a mixture, but instead found a young boy on the counter, with little expectations, Matheus showed a large degree of knowledge regarding the local ingredients and the best ingredients to use in the potion, this surprised the faerie and made a deal with his parents to enroll him at the academy in Astrine.

In the academy, Green Magic was prevalent and the inability to use it could only mean being shunned, Matheus was then found out to be weak in using the Green Magic's healing abilities giving him the title of "Green Sprout", however this did not faze him as he dabbled more on the side of alchemy in the academia, the more he practiced alchemy and studying various ingredients, Matheus found the lost branch of Green Magic, through analyzing the natural properties of substances and mixtures, he was able to use Green Magic, albeit by applying it on potions and concoctions. In the annual Nature's Exchange Festival where the test to see the effectiveness of healing potions were held, Matheus won by a mile, this continued on for years as he studied under the branch of alchemy, the academia gave him the moniker "Alchemist of Green" as he eventually expanded the Analytic and Alchemy branch of Green Magic.

After graduating at his 20s, he studied under the wing of one of the academies' professor in alchemy, and the faerie who took him in during their first meeting, Olivia Maplespring. For another 10 years he mastered many theories and techniques in alchemy, improving his Green Magic skill and specialty. The fae also taught him effective business plans on selling potions and minor self-defense techniques using a sword before his apprenticeship ended. Now he roams the land, hiding his identity of a genius alchemist while selling potions as as the merchant, however, only a very few know of the Alchemist of Green's poison that he only deals with people who know the words "Basilisk's Dew" based on a rare toxic plant sap
transformed by the wake of a basilisk.

Other:
Various Toxin Resistance
Before Matheus sets out to become a merchant, his sole test subject to most of his potions were himself, receiving the brunt of toxins and side effects but methodically (and luckily) surviving the aftermaths for various amounts of time have granted him an immunity to weak toxins, resistance to intermediate level poisons and paralysis, and ease of curing as well as the effects of strong ones. Due to this, his mentor forbade him from using himself as the test subject ever again since the many professors in the academe have observed such extremities and sees it in a bad light. Accidentally acquiring this ability was a risk for Matheus but this has been his greatest boon ever since he traded with poisons secretly due to the dangers of marketing dangerous as well as partly legal and illegal poisons, yet he avoids dealing with extremely risky deals and tries to eliminate any traces of involvement afterwards.


Theme:

 

[Israel]

Zuriel Damestrcu

Name: Zuriel Damestrcu
Nickname(s): Zuri (would not recommend calling him that though)
Aliases: The Vicious Prince / Zuriel the Violent

Age: Unknown, appears to be his in his early twenties

Gender: Cisgender Male

Height: 5'9

Sexual/Romantic Orientation: Biromantic Demisexual

Race: Vampire

Magic:

• Blue Magic
  • Shadow Manipulation: A stealth spell. The caster is able to camouflage themselves and is nearly undetectable to most.
• Black Magic
  • Dark Erosion: A spell will seek out living targets and begin consuming the living material from them. This spell gets more powerful the more it is used, but also becomes more unstable unless the caster releases the energy slowly. Releasing this, dark magic gives off a black smoke effects through the caster’s fingers.

Abilities: Due to being a vampire, Zuriel's senses and physical prowess (agility, reflexes, and strength) are extremely lethal. He is also able to extend his nails into a claw-like shape.

Weapons:

• Throwing needles laced in poison
• Ashbringer (coiled/extended) - An unusual blade that works in similar fashion to that of a whip. Created with white magic, this sword had been handcrafted several centuries ago by a well-known elven swordsmith to be used as a weapon against the undead. The blades would draw out the vitality of the undead, until there was nothing left but ash. Due to its rarity and need for specialized proficiency, it had been given to a legendary elven swordmaster. This swordmaster would go on to destroy many ghouls, vampires, and other undead creatures. Until the swordmaster encountered Zuriel. The battle had been tense, but ultimately the swordmaster would fall to Zuriel. Thus Ashbringer became yet another trophy for Zuriel. However, unlike his other trophies that would go into his family’s vaults, Zuriel took a special interest in the blade and would use it often in combat. With Zuriel’s use in battle, the Ashbringer’s ability became twisted and corrupted (whether Zuriel intended it or not). While the blade can be used physically in a fight and collect the blood for Zuriel to consume later, it has an even more dangerous ability. When a target is restrained, the whip begins to absorb their energy and lifeforce. Thus making them weak, mentally and physically. While the weapon is very powerful and with Zuriel as its handler it is very destructive, it does not mean that the weapon is without flaws or weaknesses. The blades of the sword are used for slicing and slashing and while it can still be lethal, it does not have the same penetrating power that most swords have. Its’ absorption ability can also only be used on one target at a time, making it nearly impossible on any other combat besides one-on-one. Also, those with a strong willpower can break free from the ability with will and concentration.

Occupation: Family Assassin/Spoiled Child

LIKES:
+Chaos
+Destruction
+Violence
+Poison
+Alcohol (especially red wine)
+Insect/plant specimens (especially if they're toxic/poisonous)
+Classical music
+Opera

DISLIKES:
-Sunny weather (obviously)
-Bright lights/colors
-Silence
-Flirting (more like he doesn’t understand it and he gets easily flustered)
-Dullness
-Order/Rules/Laws

Personality: Friendly and playful one minute, destructive and ruthless the next. Underneath a child-like exterior, Zuriel is a being of pure chaos who enjoys discord. Those who have only met the surface-level Zuriel, have often described him as being a self-confident and brash young man with a strong desire for power. However, inside lies a man who has a “silver-tongue” and enjoys messing with the minds of others. He has the knack of getting under one’s skin and will often say and do things that will try to make someone slip. Combined with an unpredictable personality, he often keeps both allies and foes on their toes. Due to being highly manipulative, many are often wary of his true intentions when interacting with him. While Zuriel is definitely strong-willed and confident, that doesn’t mean he is without faults. His biggest downfall is his own pride and he will look down at individuals who may be more powerful than he is led to believe. He also has a hotheaded temperament that can make him aggressive, which often can land him in hot water. Despite his violent temperament, he can easily be flustered and is fairly innocent when it comes to romantic endeavors. Another surprising aspect of Zuriel is that he is particularly over-protective of those he cares about.

Background: Zuriel is, supposedly, the middle child of the Damestrcu Family. The Damestrcu Family is a very influential, but mysterious family that has connections with many businesses, royalty, and the criminal underworld. It is currently unknown how old the Damestrcu Family has reigned in their current state, but some have speculated centuries if not millennia. Zuriel's childhood, similar to most Damestrcu children, is muddled in mystery, but most can guess what happened to Zuriel and his siblings to make him the way he is in his current state. As such, Zuriel's "family education" taught him a variety of "subjects" (including, but not limited to, combat, assassination, and poisons).

Theme:
solo -
Damestrcu Family -

 

[Topless]

Yamato Nadeshiko
大 和 撫 子

• General
• Physical Features
• Abilities and Equipment
• Interests
• Personality
• Background

• 
  Nickname: Yama, Blade Dancer
  
  Age: 22
  
  Gender: ???
  
  Race: Human
  
  Occupation: Traveler/Mercenary
  
• 
  Height: 5'5
  
  Weight: 99 Ibs
  
  Hair Color: Light Lavender
  
  Eye Color: Purple
  
• 
  Skills:
  Swordsmanship (They were trained at a young age to wield a sword, specifically a katana.)
  -Void Breathing (Also known as Kyomu no Kokyuu (虚無の呼吸), is the sword style that was taught to them by their father that involves graceful movements combined with being able to execute them at a blinding speed. This style has nine techniques and performing them requires them to exert so much effort in their movements that as a consequence they would frequently dislocate their joints.)
  
  Self-Defense (They prefer to not throw punches as they believe that they'll lose their effectiveness on the sword if they wield it with "bad" hands". Instead, when unarmed, they'll use grabs, throws and non-handed strikes until they can get their hands on their weapon.)
  
  Cooking (Yamato learned how to cook from their mother at a young age. Most of the the time they would cook stews, soups and grilled meats.)
  
  Charisma (Simply put, Yamato is a notorious sweet talker. Their beautiful voice can lull anyone but those with steel nerves, be it man or woman. It doesn't even help that their appearance is hard to spot their gender, not that those attracted to them wouldn't mind.)
  
  Magic: White Magic
  
  -Mid Battle Repair: The user is able to repair their broken weapon mid fight. Unfortunately it does change the shape and the size. So if the user has a sword and it's broken in half, the user can repair it enough to be a long dagger, and if it gets broken again, it turns into a dagger till there is nothing left.
  
  Equipment:
  -A katana of the finest build made from rare materials that makes it sturdy, durable, easy to maintain and packs an absurd sharpness.
  
  -A parasol whenever they would go out.
  
  -Extra clothes, usually casual ones.
  
• 
  Likes:
  -Flowers
  -Fighting
  -Men
  -Women
  -Smiles
  -Dreams
  -Teasing
  
  Dislikes:
  -Needless violence
  -Scumbags
  -Sadness
  -Discrimination
  
• 
  The term "Yamato Nadeshiko" describes "an ideal Japanese woman". They are said to be the epitome of pure, feminine beauty. A Yamato Nadeshiko would have traits such as poised, decorous, kind, gentle, graceful, humble, patient, virtuous, respectful, benevolent, honest, charitable and faithful. They are, in a Japanese sense, the very idea of a housewife. Then again, there is no such thing as Japan in this world, isn't there?
  
  Instead, we have this person. They are what their namesake implies, minus the gender. But aside from that, they also happen to be quite a teaser and a flirt, especially the latter, but in a very playful way. When it comes to battles, Yamato believes in a fair fight, though they aren't afraid to use cheap tricks when faced with an enemy high above their calibre so long as they don't get their hands dirty.
  
  Of note is that Yamato rarely gets angry, but if they were to be, they don't show it and that's scary. At best they would just give off an unnerving smile, but at worst, they would say things that would often creep the offender out.
  
• 
  Yamato was born in a middle class family that specializes in selling flowers, at least on their mother's side who owned a flower shop. Their father on the other hand was a famed adventurer. Everytime he comes home from a job, he would tell a lot of his journeys to his child, which captivated them. All seemed well for their childhood until they've reach their early teens where their father would left off to the Unknown Territory to find out it's secrets, knowing that he will be gone for a very long time.
  
  Years later, their father hasn't come back. Yamato had to force themselves to grow up to support their mother until they have come to the point of following their father's footsteps and become an adventurer. It wasn't very easy for them to leave their mother alone, but after some encouragement, they have set off on their adventures with the goal of reaching the Unknown Territory and search their father. Of course, they knew that it won't be an easy task and if they ever wanted to get to the Unknown Territory, they need to be prepared. They'll need a lot of supplies and most importantly, a party that they can rely on.
  
  Recruiting people isn't going to be easy though. Nobody is just going to say yes when asked if they can go to the Unknown Territory with them. Yamato heard a lot of scary things about that place, but he doesn't mind those as they were fixated on finding their father. For the meantime, they went on various jobs in preparation, hoping that along the way they could find people to recruit and maybe help them with their problems like themselves.
  
  Fortunately, they would meet their first recruit...sort of. Yamato took a job from a commissioner from Whitshell about a village that had been wiped out by The Banished. When they have arrived along with a scouting party, they would find only one survivor from the chaos. After they have took her back to the capital, the survivor suddenly went on a roaring rampage, cursing the name of The Banished as she went. Yamato swiftly stopped her before she could cause a lot of damage by just a swift strike on the back of her head.
  
  In spite of what she had done, Yamato felt very pity for her and so they decided to take her in as their partner. The ride back to Altair was a rough one for Yamato as they had to convince her to join their cause, even offering her a way to get back at The Banished. It was enough for her to accept, on the condition that Yamato won't do any funny business. Being the nice person they are, Yamato obliges.
  
  "I shall see to it that your vengeance will be earned. But first, we need to have your attitude in check."
  

Theme:


Extra Theme (Shared with Hilda):

 

[Topless]

Hilda Thorvald
ᚺᛁᛚᛞᚨ ᛏᚺᛟᚱᚡᚨᛚᛞ

​

• General
• Physical Features
• Abilities and Equipment
• Interests
• Personality
• Background

• 
  Nickname: Hildy, Goaty, Wild Blizzard
  
  Age: 20
  
  Gender: Female
  
  Race: Beastman (Goat)
  
  Occupation: Traveler/Mercenary/Bodyguard
  
• 
  Height: 5'0
  
  Weight: 150 Ibs
  
  Hair Color: Blonde
  
  Eye Color: Teal
  
• 
  Skills:
  -Hand-to-Hand Combat (At least as a brawler.)
  
  -Multi-Melee Combat (Primarily two-handed weapons, otherwise anything she can use that is not a ranged weapon. She sees them as weapons suited for "cowards".)
  
  -Self-Hallucination (Something that she had taught to herself in case she is at a numbers disadvantage. By self-triggering her PTSD, she'l start to see everyone as Banished and becomes a raging lunatic that even the toughest wouldn't dare cross her. Unfortunately, she'll also see her allies as Banished as well. Knocking her out is a very effective way to bring her back to her senses.)
  
  Magic: Red Magic
  -Battle Cry: The user is able to use their own power to empower others. Depending on the number, this can either not bother the user at all, or K.O. the user.
  
  -Harden: By gritting her teeth, her body (sans the eyes and the nape of her neck) becomes hard enough to withstand sharp blows and as well as enhancing her already monstrous strength. Hitting her in the eyes or the nape of her neck can disable it.
  
  Equipment:
  -Mojo Slayer: A battle axe that was made specifically to kill Mojos. Despite its name, Hilda wields it like a traditional battle axe as the material that was used to make it is also very effective when dealing other threats, especially in regards to The Banished.
  
  -A heavy coat reinforced with chainmail in-between thick linen. In general, its a very durable winter coat.
  
  -A pendant with a written rune which is also a keepsake from her father.
  
  -A hunting horn mainly used to boost morale and get attention.
  
• 
  Likes:
  -Strong people (particularly men)
  -Melee weapons
  -Alcohol
  -Women
  -Food (most particularly meat)
  -Fights
  -Training
  -Her lineage
  -Anything she finds funny at the expense of anyone
  
  Dislikes:
  -The Banished
  -Cowards
  -Cheaters
  -Scumbags
  -Weaklings
  -"Feminine" men
  -Thinking
  -The gods and religion
  -The high class
  -Ranged weaponry
  -Politics
  -Being called short
  -Everything that can set her off
  
• 
  Hilda was born and raised to be a warrior. Above everything, she values strength, valor and honor. She sees weaklings, cowards and cheaters as nothing but insects to be trampled on, but when it comes to scumbags, she thinks of them as trash meant to be burned down. She believes that kindness is a weakness and is something that could be manipulated. But despite her tough exterior, deep down she is a very kind person despite her jaded view of it. In fact, she isn't very comfortable showing her soft side unless it is either necessary or when it comes to interacting with someone who is, in a broad context, strong.
  
  And speaking of strong, Hilda can only show respect (and later make friends with) to someone who can prove their strength to her. Again, the term "strong" is in a broad context, not just about physical strength despite her warrior back ground. Another thing she isn't comfortable of showing is how very fragile she is. Anything can get her really angry, even at a slight annoyance can tick her off. She is very prone to starting fights, more so when she is drunk. Most importantly, she bears a deep seated hatred to The Banished, so much so that she can hallucinate herself into see people as such and go into a violent frenzy. Her bad experience with them has also diagnosed her with a bad case of PTSD, which she can willingly trigger it herself.
  
  Hilda has a very negative view to ranged weaponry, so much so that she will laugh at someone wielding a bow or similar. She thinks that ranged weapons are only used by cowards who doesn't want to get their hands dirty. She is a firm believer of fairness, especially when it comes to fights. But other things such as religion and politics is something she looks down upon. She is very illiterate and doesn't like to think things through, so don't bother asking her to think.
  
• 
  Hilda was born the youngest among the many siblings she had. Her family had a tradition of having one child a year, and knowing their very wide lifespan, you could imagine what it is like. There is a good reason for that; the village she was born in was located in the high mountains that are dangerously near the lands of The Banished. This because the village was home to exiled beastmen who wished to atone for their cowardice in defending their home from The Banished. When a young beastman has reached beyond adolescence, they are then subjected to brutal training into the next defenders of the land. Hilda was next in line to defend the forefront from any invading Banished.
  
  Her first day on the front line would end up becoming the worst day in her life.
  
  A huge wave of Banished came rushing onto the walls of the village. Hilda had fought alongside valiantly with her companions and siblings, but over the course of the battle, even with the training that they had gone through, the Banished had begun to overwhelm them. Normally it was the beastmen who always came out on top with little casualties, but this is different. The Banished that they have fought turned out to be a lot more tougher for even the strongest of beastmen. Hilda had begun to panic and it went worst from there. One by one she lost her companions to the horde, followed by her massively numbered siblings, her parents, her fellow beastkin until she is all by herself.
  
  Hilda had become very angry. In her rage she had went into a violent frenzy, earning her a massive kill count but sustaining numerous injuries over the course of the day until her consciousness faded. The following day, a scouting party from the capital found her under a sheet of snow. She was the only survivor in the village. By the time she had regained her consciousness, she started to see everyone as The Banished and went on a very violent rampage, only to be subdued by a foreigner from a distant land.
  
  "I'll take her with me. I feel so very sorry for what she's been through. Consider this as my additional compensation for taking the job. A pleasure doing business."
  
  When Hilda had woken up, she was riding on a carriage along with the foreigner who had stopped her rampage; a very feminine person. This time, she had seen them as a human than a Banished. She has stopped hallucinating for now.
  
  "Who are you?"
  
  "Who am I? I'm just a traveler."
  
  "Well figures. Where we heading?"
  
  "Altair. What's your name by the way?"
  
  "Name's Hilda."
  
  "Hilda, would you like to be my partner?"
  
  "Nay! I refuse to be partners with a very girly looking man! I rather be dead than hanging out with a twink!"
  
  "What if...I can help you avenge your village?"
  
  "...Tell me."
  

Theme:

 

[Britt-21]

Name:
Ishido Tamotsu

Nickname:
Detective, Shido, Ishi, Tamo

Age:
24

Gender:
Male

Race:
Human/Elf

Magic:
Blue Magic

Simulation- While walking into a room, he is able to simulate how the room had been in its original state. Seeing blue outlines with sparkles of where everything should have been but had been moved. For example: If an office had been neatly organized and he were to walk in while using his magic and notice that it looks in utter chaos as if a brawl happened, he is able to see where everything had been at originally and from there basically "Simulate" how something had gone down for it to turn into that state. He uses this for the sake of his work and sometimes if he believes something had been moved in his office or tampered with without his permission.

Occupation:
Investigator/Lawyer

Likes:
+Solving Mysteries
+A good book
+Coffee
+A great battle in court
+Cook
+Training his body to protect

Dislikes:
-Ties
-Extreme Sweets
-Fighting/Battling
-Resorting to extreme measures
-Liars and cheats

Personality:
As a person who came from the orphanage and to a loving family, he was a fairly quiet child and never really seemed to enjoy being around many people. In fact, he was always down with his face buried in some sort of mystery book hidden away in some trees or outside laying in the grass with some snacks. While quiet, he is one who enjoys calculating situation, patiently thinking them through before coming up with a logical ending result. So not only his he patient and loves to read books, but he'd stand up for the innocent and protect them to the best of his ability. While conflict is something he hates, he will take the necessary steps to ensure that does not happen. Though if it did come to that point, he'd have no choice but to resort to such actions. He's a calm man, relaxed, and when stressed can become short tempered and very annoyed very quickly. If panic rises, while his own fear creeps up on him, he tries his best to push it back and push through to be the defense he wanted to become.

Background:

Growing up in a poor orphanage was never easy. Especially when there was a bunch of other kids who liked to find moments to bully others or even go as far as beating another up. In his mind, fighting with the hands and fists were futile and only resulted in more conflict. There was no resolution, no peace, just resentment and possibly revenge to follow along with it. As a child he kept to himself and away from those who were rowdy, but there was just one characteristic that he couldn't help but feel drawn to in another child. He was small, fragile looking, but he did bite when he had to. That kid was the runt for sure, smaller than the rest including himself. There were days that he'd notice that his food would be stolen, or if he'd get beaten up and left on the cold floor. Of course he couldn't just sit idly by and watch this happen. Eventually he took measures into his own hands and provided the small one with food, and his name was: Toshiro. Not only providing him with food to help him grow, but also providing protection in any way possible while giving him the guarding that he would need from time to time. The two became great friends over the course of time before he had been adopted, forcing the two to be separated for what they thought was forever.

As he got older, he could never forget his friend back at the orphanage and wondered at times where he is now. If he was safe, did someone good adopt him and raise him well while showing him that life wasn't all about throwing hands? One could only imagine at this point in life as he was never able to find or confirm this information for himself. Burying himself in books, studies, and more; He found himself growing magically inclined with Blue Magic. A magic that not everyone happens to grab onto as easily as he did. While reading mystery novels and detective novels, he was able to base his own magic off of that. Now with being magically inclined in Blue Magic, he began to go to school and learn more and more about how to utilize his talents. At this point he had been learning since elementary school, giving him time to master his craft over time.

While remaining out of fights, he focused on school work and towards what he felt was right. To be someone of legality, to follow the laws and track down criminals and toss them in the slammer. He saw what those kids did to Toshi, and no one but him had stopped the problem as much as possible to protect the innocent. He felt that there needed to be someone good to protect those who couldn't protect themselves and that's why he became a detective and even worked towards being a Lawyer. Fast forward up to this point in time, he works at his own investigation/lawyer firm and has others working for him as well. Proving himself to be quite the worker and always gets the results that he's looking for. Giving many hope that this man alone was strong enough and smart enough to get to the bottom of things. In the midst of all of this, he also improves his own self defense skills just in case things were to go south without a warning.


Appearance:
Height: 6'2

Spoiler

Theme(Optional):


10b18a​

 

[Kovacs]

BELIAL BRUNLOFANG

theme

General Profile

Full Name

Belial Brunlofang

Alias

Bee // Beel // Scourge of the Sky // The Half-Feathered Fury of Mount Ieru

Age

112 // phys. mid-twenties

Gender

male

Race

Beastman-Demon Halfling

Occupation

TBD. Hermit

Alignment

TBD

Physical Examination

Strength

Speed

Endurance

Combat Skill

Height

5'10

origins

On the night of Belial's birth, the moon had been sliced in half by shadow. In the eyes of the Golden Eagle branch of feathered-falconiforme beastmen, it signaled a permanent state of division, of half-emptiness, of unbalance in the gizzard and the wings. Or, in this case, a demonic halfling, runt to a nest of five.

Belial's birth father was a known human hunter living off the Whitshell lands. At a time of great scarcity in the region, he had done the unthinkable and traded his humanity for the soul and power of a demon. The transformation left his morality and mind utterly in ruins, leaving only one possibility when he stumbled upon the nest one night and took advantage of his prey---a young bird-mother, Aja, who had just lain five eggs.

That was the story Belial, and all the rest of his siblings would believe and hear for nearly all of his childhood. In reality, the demon had lost his humanity long ago, and was no stranger to Aja even before she was paired off. Stoked by a terrible strain in her relationship with her rightful husband, Aja had in fact done the unthinkable in their culture---break her birdmate vows. Letting her affections rekindle and stray, past all reason and acceptable norms and right into Banished territory. The price for that infidelity came in the form of one last egg, and this egg was Belial.

As the sixth and final hatchling, by the time he had open his eyes, all of his pure-blooded siblings were larger and better-fed than him. Howling from the west, Mount Ieru and its harsh winds were not the only ones calling for the blood of a frail little half-fowl. Life along the ridgelines of the Ieru took more than it gave; a feral fact that soon became second nature among his siblings.

Every piece precious as flecks of gold, fish was stolen, bartered or earned through sabotage. Scars accrued from free-for-alls, broken wings from falls prompted in bad faith, and when young blood spilled, a brief flash of recognition leapt from one face to another, reminded that in the end, the same blood ran through them all. By the time he was a fledgling, six had whittled down to four.

It was Falconiformes culture to expect the weakest to die---his step-father, who always suspected the truth, certainly spared not a drop of warmth on his lastborn, for there was no use in attaching oneself to future carcass. Like salt on the wound, it was not unheard of for eagle couples to take the initiative and kill their weakest out of the broods early, ensuring only the strongest survived. His step-father fought the temptation several times himself, but the fear of retribution by the one who had sired him held it back.

Despite all these odds, Belial had a secret advantage. It was testament to the errant love Aja buried and bore towards her demon lover, making itself nutritiously known in the quiet moments peppered across the chaotic fabric of the mountainside. This unspoken alliance slowly but surely breathed life into Belial, allowing him to scrape by as the rest of his brothers began to soar---from branch to branch, tree to rock, fish to beak and finally out to sea and beyond, mastering the golden secrets of their kind.

Meanwhile, Belial was repeatedly left behind, deemed too weak to brave the ocean winds for their months-long journeys. In the clam of loneliness, he found a treasure: peace. Singular and utterly new to him as a sensation, its pearly shine helped him forget it all---wounds from maltreatment, his hunger, the strange little bumps on his temples, and most of all his fear---that the day he would get to prove himself worthy will never come.

What did come however, early and unexpected and out of the last tendrils of a sea storm, were Aja and his eldest brother Njord. Even with his cold shoulder of support, she could barely keep her wings in the air. They flew into the mountainous safety of their nest with all the grace of the average Giant. The callous stink of illness spelt out a clear message: she was on her deathnest.

Breath as thin as a blade of grass, Aja let it out one final time, clutching the talons of her beloved little Belial, murmuring the name of her lover. That was all the confirmation Njord needed. Moments into her passing, Belial suddenly found himself pinned to the nesting ground, iced talons piercing into his bare chest as the story furiously spat out into his face.

Njord had learned of it all during their trek back---at first it was easy to want to dismiss it as delirium. And yet, adorning every feverish thought that trickled out her beak was an undeniable ring of truth. Their mother had betrayed her rightful mate---spit on her kind, lied for years about traumas she had never went through, and loved the demonic bastard product of it better than her own trueborns.

The price for such transgressions in Falconiformes culture was death, but both brothers knew by rights it was not the eldest's to dole out alone. That honor was reserved to all of the brood, and to deny that to the rest of their siblings would bring calamity on Njord's head as well.

But it did not stop him from getting the job half-done. After a brutal tussle and struggle, Beel was left alone once more, bruises and blood wreathed around the ticking time bomb that now set his shoulders ablaze. He could try to escape to other distant nations, but what guarantee did he have that he, weak and severely wounded, would not simply die trying, or succumb to the same fate as his mother?

In the waning hours of burying Aja at the summit of the mountain, the answer reached out to him like a branch plump with nightshade: hide and hope that when his brothers arrived, even their bloodlust would not breach past the undulating waste of the Banished.

❖
ONE YEAR LATER
❖
​

No one ever stumbles out of the Land of Demons the same way they came in. So much changes; time no longer flows but pierces through. The shadows one casts darkens, edges of lips sharpen into knives. All of a sudden, the contrast between light and dark pounces like never before, catching the attention like a tiger's claw against moth wing. And in the valley of all this difference, Belial's horns and power grew.

It would be impossible to gauge when he'd returned exactly, but it was certainly long enough for a certain brother of his. Having claimed the family nest as his own by right, Njord awaited the fateful days in which his brood of eggs would hatch. If memory served right, his mate was Nyla of the Norttalons, a few mountains to the west. Their union, like many other Falconiformes marriages, was a product of mate arrangement years before.

From the shadows, careful observation lent a cooling touch to the burning coals of retribution churning within Belial. A moon passed and eggs began to crack open, one at a time. For the next few weeks, both parents could hardly get a wink of sleep as fish-finding missions took up the bulk of their time. Too tired and far away to see the horned shadow land on home ground.

They all crowded him, little beaks wide and little eyes sealed shut, mistaking Belial for their father. There was a single egg left, unhatched.

Amidst the rest of the egg shells broken and littered still across the space, he saw it. A single hatchling, the smallest out of them all, barely a pile of flesh and bone, dead with its throat cut. It was not the blind, callous, eaglet-like work of its stronger siblings, but the calculated work of an adult beak.

Just then, he heard it. Ferocious flaps of powerful wings behind him, the unsheathing of those great talons that, just the year before, had skewered his much smaller, lithe, human-like body into shreds.

It was Njord, back from the sea, beak fat with prey. Silence, save for the rustle and bustle of little bodies, necks stretching, tiny muscles pulsating to pick at the fish hanging above their heads. Up, down, forced to dance this way and that, and finally dropped to the side, in a calculated act of carelessness. Little talons scratched, fought, hurt others to reach it.

"Only the strong survive, little brother," came the cold, contemptuous voice. Njord's gaze switched from his offspring towards the fully grown horns, brimming with rancour. "I see your genes have finally gotten that through that half-breed skull of yours."

A gobble of spit hit against the leg of the little carcass. "That should've been you too, back then. Before you could grow any bigger. But Father was too soft."

Belial felt his nostrils flare, years' worth of hatred prickling under his skin like ants, but fear and yearning iced it all cold in minutes.

Njord turned to the egg with a mirthless little chuckle. "And that one---" a slick, mahogany wing gestured harshly, "---is taking too long to hatch. One of those yearslings, no doubt. Just good-for-nothing waste of space. Like you were."

Njord faced him again, bitterness lacing every crease and line of the venom he called a face. "You hear me. It would have been better if you'd never hatched at all. Then I, Taftar, Orion, all of us wouldn't have had to stomach seeing what halfling monstrosity would come out of our deviant of a mother."

Belial opened his mouth, sharply. Closed it, willing himself not to swallow that pierce of righteous anger down. That year in the Banished had taught him enough, he'd thought. It was always compromise, always diplomacy, always he relied too much on right words, on small mercies, on his mother, because he had counted himself too weak otherwise. Here was his chance to prove it, to show himself he could stand up and fight and...

"Oh, ho," Njord took a mocking step forward. "That little gleam in your eye. Is that what you're here for, little brother? You could have gone elsewhere, you know. The rest of us thought you simply died off."

Drawing to his full height, several heads higher than even the average Falconiformes, Njord rolled large lumps of shoulder muscle back. "Well, no matter. Those horns mean nothing. After today, that thought will simply turn to fac---"

The cord snapped. Belial let the rest of the sentence finish in a sharp choke, while out of his own mouth, a strangled war cry and tears pealed out. The advantage of the first move had his eldest brother pinned to the ground, limp from the initial shock of such burst of speed. Amidst the frightened chirps of the hatchlings, their bodies were enmeshed in a painful lock, faces contorted into that of true demons.

Hauled to the edge by the labored flap of his wings, Belial shot a frantic look towards the chicks. Talons sunk deep, letting go as he forced them to roll, wind whistled as both brothers pushed against each other and caught themselves in the air.

The battle that followed was all the speed, aggression and intensity of a wolverine's bite. Horns aglow, it was the first time black magic coursed through Belial's talons and feathers, carving out a bloody, back-breaking victory. The first rays of evening spilling into the nest, the exhausted victor retreated to the other side of Mount Ieru with his prize: his brother's last egg.

❖​

For weeks, Nyla could not bury her mate's body. In fact, she could barely wait until her hatchlings were strong enough to hold onto her as she made the trip back to her home mountain. Nothing was left for her here, nothing but fear and that half-feathered demon. When she reached home, word spread about the half-feathered demonic fury on Mount Ieru, all across the Falconiformes.

All efforts to investigate, collect the growing bounty on his head or provoke were repeatedly cut short, as every encounter left bodies and the fiend stronger than he was before, adding to his guerilla-like reputation.

Finally one day, a pirate crew went onto shore. Headed by a certain creature that would surely breed natural rapport, the goal was to confirm rumours, and see if they could do what no other party had thought to do before: recruit the Half-Feathered Fury into their ranks. After a week of scouring the mountainside, they left with their heads still on their shoulders, one set of wings and egg heavier. It was answer enough: the Half-Feathered Fury of Mount Ieru had joined Captain Zenoulis Silvercraw and his crew.

PERSONA

DESCRIPTION

Despite efforts to pass off as the mystifying, half-mad, brutal monster his reputation precedes him to be, Belial is no lover of violence. It's always the last resort, the last straw to pull, the last hole to slither into when all exits have been blocked.

And it is in this hole where the roots of his notoriety get their fill and expand, overturning the more fundamental pillars of his character. For one, Belial isn't very known to do well under pressure; tears could begin to spill, face tinged red in quiet fury or embarrassment as he struggles to regain his composure. He is no face of stoicism or extraversion in that regard---despite the natural inclination towards negotiation and dialogue, his emotions often get the better of him, and the temptation to withdraw becomes all-encompassing. In those moments, it's very likely you'll see him kick a steel can in frustration, curse furiously at the pain, and then fly off to ball his eyes out in the corner while trying to deny it.

All in all, Belial feels. With every feather, every vein, every heartbeat. He will feel for you, with you, and against you should circumstance seem fit, and will hate every moment of it. Betrayal is not in his vocabulary; he will flail for every little strand of belief that says maybe there is a chance things could change, every little sign or omen that points to a better future, where he could love and hurt freely without the shadow of judgement.

He should know better. He is capable of learning it, but often refuses not to---out of pride, or hatred, which is an emotion he feels too often, but tries not to indulge. His love and trust on the other hand, are a force of soft persistence enveloped in a cocoon of childlike hesitance. Once someone's got it though, the emotion-riddled ice will melt to reveal a simple heart yearning for love, and ready to dole it all out in a heartbeat.

LIKES

the Egg, Belial loves it dearly, though it's more of an obsession, and it is certain he will gouge the eyes out of anybody who dare harm or look at it the wrong way ; fish, fish, and more fish ; finding a nice, comfortable perch to sit on ; even though he is a walking, talking hazard for them, babies of all types ; humming a tune, or singing a quiet ballad to himself, prettily, because it turns he has a nice pair of pipes ; a nice wing massage ; the feeling of wind in his wild, tangled hair ; showing off his incredible speed, or his various aerial stunts (until they go badly, in which he would do anything to make you forget) ; retreat into a favorite, comfortable corner, huddle his wings and sleep

DISLIKES

Anyone harming the Egg ; sleights-of-hand ; other feathered beastmen/beastmen in general ; being mocked for his demon blood, or relatively short stature ; incredibly cold weather ; having his feelings played with (only because he would fall for it too easily) ; failing to live up to others' standards ; resorting to violence, or to black magic ; the underestimation of any little thing ; being defined by his weaknesses

MAGIC // ABILITIES.

RED MAGIC

· Golden Eagle Cry | Thanks to his mixed blood, Belial's cry is not as strong or impactful as it should be. He can let it out in effective, short bursts however, and oftentimes that can be enough disorientation that his wings and talons can finish the rest of the job.

BLACK MAGIC

· Black Magic Feathers | Belial's feathers develop a protective coating of black magic, which render the feathers as deadly as poisonous knives. He can shoot out and control them at will, to the detriment of his mobility and speed. Once they are out, they're out, and he has to turn back to normal to wait for more feathers to grow.

· Black Magic Ovoids | Belial can create black magic egg-like structures that trap his enemies, and when the eggs crack into pieces thanks to enemy efforts to get out, the pieces can still be manipulated against them.

CODE BY SEROBLISS / VALOROUS ORDER

 

[Topless]

Ying Shou Long
硬 手 龍

​

• General
• Physical Features
• Abilities
• Interests
• Personality
• Background

• 
  Nickname: Hard Hand Dragon, Fire Legs
  
  Age: 22
  
  Gender: Female
  
  Race: Human
  
  Occupation: Chef/Traveler
  
• 
  Height: 5'3
  
  Weight: 108 lbs
  
  Hair Color: Brown
  
  Eye Color: Brown
  
• 
  Skills:
  Martial Arts (Ying's martial arts is a self-taught style comprising of many disciplines that she learned from facing various adversaries in her travels. Suffice to say, she has a move against pretty much everything. Her fighting style has three "Stances".)
  -Brawler Stance (An all-around fighting style focused on juggling offensive strikes and defensive counters.)
  -Rush Stance (A more speed-based fighting style focused on extensive footwork, dodging and weaving, and rapid strikes.)
  -Beast Stance (A power-based fighting style that is more on delivering powerful blows, lifting relatively heavy object, and tanking physical hits.)
  
  Cooking (She is a licensed professional chef from her homeland. The only thing that would give her a run for her money is a bit of culture clash.)
  
  "Evil Sense" (For some strange reason, Ying was born with the ability to smell someone's "evil" in them, allowing her to discern who is good or evil.)
  
  Magic: N/A
  
• 
  Likes:
  -Food
  -Fights
  -Cooking
  -Money
  -Traveling
  -Happiness
  
  Dislikes:
  -Evildoers
  -Wasted food and money
  -People not liking her food
  -Taxes
  -Magic (only when the user is cheating)
  -Perverts
  
• 
  Ying aspires to become two things; to be the best chef in the world and to be the world's strongest woman. She is a spunky girl full of optimism and ideals. She tends to get fired up when it comes to cooking or fighting, though her real career path lies in becoming a chef. She can get pretty mad if nobody likes her cooking (considered to be the best from her hometown), people leaving food to waste or when it involves this world's counterpart of the IRS. Seriously, as much as she respects the government, she is not willing to pay her taxes for the sake of keeping her family's restaurant up and running.
  
  And all of this boils down to this one fatal flaw of her; greed. For all of her being an energetic, spirited martial artist, aspiring chef and an overall friendly person, when it comes to money, she'll do absolutely everything to get her hands on the gold for even a fraction. She can easily be swayed by just the rattling of one's pouch. Of course, she'll do everything in a honest manner. She won't do stuff like stealing, mugging or straight up performing a robbery. After all, her family is running a business and that could cause quite a controversy.
  
• 
  Ying was born to a family of chefs that runs a very famous restaurant called "Long's Oriental Eatery". Her family had moved in to Altair in the hopes of gaining a much more financially stabled life that her hometown couldn't provide. There were some hurdles such the culture clash and how some citizens are not interested in oriental cuisines. This prompted Ying to inspire herself to become the best chef in the world so that her family's business won't fail. When it came to the time that she starts cooking, the restaurant's reputation had increased and more and more people started to get an interest in her cooking. Soon, the restaurant became a booming success and has since became a mainstay within the capital.
  
  Ying, knowing that the restaurant will never close down, decided to go travel the world in search for rare ingredients and new delicacies to try so she can add it to the menu, with some twists and turns to fit her style of cooking. Eventually, she took up martial arts as a way to defend herself, eventually becoming so obsessed with it to the point of dreaming of becoming the world's strongest woman. Eventually, she has her sights on the Unknown Territory, but first she'll need to prepare herself knowing the dangers of it.
  

Theme:


Extra Theme (Shared with ???):

 

[Huntertabbysandshark3]

Name: Iroki Marashor
Nickname: Rok
Age: 40
Gender: male (Femboy vibe tho)
Race: fairy
Magic(Optional): Blue magic

Spells:
mage eyes: allows the user to effectively place a sort of magical set of eyes up to 500 meters away from them and see through them for a while the limited range allows for the use of it repeatedly the eyes act as normal eyes meaning you can't actually see through stuff unless you've incidentally placed them inside a building the eyes produce a small glowing patch making them noticeable.

Danger sense: a combat effect that gives the user a warning that something might strike them it does not however let them know what it is merely a indicator that something might hit.
Occupation: training officer (currently on leave)

Likes: painting, tea&coffee, peace and quiet, teaching.

Dislikes: people being idiots (in his view), being mistaken for a girl, sloppy techniques, undue confidence

skills:
weapons skill: generally skilled with most forms of melee weapons and bows he's by no means superior than someone who specialized in a particular weapon but he can pick up most and use it with a level of skill. he does have a personal preference toward glaives

multi-lingual: Iroki picked up the basics of most of the more common languages around, letting him speak some and at least understand a fair few conversations useful when people might be talking behind your back

painting: Iroki paints in his spare time it's pretty good but nothing you'd wanna pay money for after all the only profitable artist is a dead one.

equipment: glaive, 2 moderately sized backpacks, painting supplies, a sharpening stone, pack of oils. a pocket watch

Personality: Iroki lives by a simple principle if one shows respect it should be reciprocated if one does not then, they will be shown none in return. resulting in him generally meeting people with a fairly respectful manner until they do something to sour it then he will be kinda passive-aggressive, this attitude served him well for his time training town guards but he's found it can get grating with people he meets out on the road, having to try and be.. well a bit less strict, its a learning curve but at least he's feeling alot less "meh"

Background: a middle age man Iroki started out as a town guard, in some distant town being a fairy he was.. a little well little at times, not taken all too seriously something he managed to rectify due to a long time serving amongst the guards eventually leaving them to become a bit of a trainer leading him to move form town to town as places hired him to make sure there gaurd forces where up to a decent standard recetly the mans been burnt out and is taking some leave to try and rest and recover... its.. not exactly been going well as so far he's found himself more anoyed then relaxed.
Appearance:
he does actually have wings but there often hidden by his long coat
Height: 6'2
Theme(Optional):

 

[Topless]

Horntensia Lambert

​

• General
• Physical Features
• Abilities and Equipment
• Interests
• Personality
• Background

• 
  Nickname: Noble Demon Slayer, Divine Princess of the Sword, Lady Horntensia (by her servants), Hornie (by her parents (don't call her that though))
  
  Age: 21
  
  Gender: Female
  
  Race: Human
  
  Occupation: Mercenary/Ex-Noble/Wanted Fugitive
  
• 
  Height: 5'5
  
  Weight: 100 lbs
  
  Hair Color: Blonde
  
  Eye Color: Lime
  
• 
  Skills:
  Swordsmanship (In spite of her lithe build, Horntensia can wield her massive sword very well, though a bit sluggish due to the weight which prevents her from unleashing its true potential. She can also wield other kinds of swords, it is just that she is more used to wielding two-handed swords.)
  
  Magic: Green Magic
  
  -Photosynthesis: A unique healing spell. It is a passive spell that allows her to heal her injuries and regenerate lost limbs by simply "becoming a plant". In other words, she has to be hydrated and be under the sun still for a few minutes for her injuries to heals. It will not work if she moves. If the injuries are of simple cuts and bruises, then the healing can take about a minute or so. When it comes to lost limbs, it will take as much as few weeks to regenerate a single arm.
  
  Equipment:
  
  
  
  -El-Calibur: A 7 foot tall claymore and the House Lambert's prized heirloom. It is a sword that was repeatedly blessed by each succeeding pope to preserve it's holy properties, owning to it's rich history and influence to the world. It can dispel all forms of black magic and is very effective against the Banished.
  
  -A cloak that was given to her by her maids to conceal her appearance while on the run.
  
• 
  Likes:
  -Family
  -Her servants
  -Anything that she thinks is cute
  -Magic
  -Men
  -Marriage
  
  Dislikes:
  -Scumbags
  -Demons
  -Anyone who disrespects her family
  -Anyone questioning about her relationship status
  
• 
  On the surface, Horntensia appeared to be a serious individual. She isn't someone who can be pleased easily. She is the kind of individual who values duty and responsibility, things that she took seriously in her profession as a mercenary. But deep down, she is but a friendly and kind individual. Her serious personality is just only a facade to make herself look trustworthy in the eyes of her workers and employers.
  
  Horntensia also happens to have a weakness for anything cute. The moment she laid eyes on them, she'll immediately drop her serious persona and start melting out of awe, though she'll try her best to mask it with little success. Then again, she isn't all that anyone assumes to be. Proceed to next tab. BEWARE OF SPOILERS.
  
• 
  Tokyo, Japan, 2023. There had lived an office worker named Hanako Yamada. Her life was pretty normal. She worked as a customer support representative for Amazon Japan and was fairly well respected from her peers, including her bosses. She also happens to be an otaku who mostly spends her free time reading romance manga and light novels and play visual novels of the same genre. It was these materials that she had dreamed of finding the perfect husband, something of which she tried to find during her high school and college days. But every boy she had proposed to had rejected her, the most they said were either that had something more important in their lives or she isn't their type. Those experiences had made her really depressed, which carried on to her work life where none of her co-workers she finds not worth marrying too and vice versa.
  
  And then everything changed.
  
  One day on her way to work, Hanako saw a kid playing ball when a truck was about to hit him. Hanako rushed in, pushed the kid away from harm and got hit by the truck, killing her in the process. And thus ends the life of Hanako Yamada...or so she had thought. After she had died, a voice had called out to her. There was a light within the darkness and Hanako followed it. By the time she had reached the light, she had been reborn into a new world, her memories of her previous life still intact even as a baby. Indeed, Hanako had been reincarnated as the latest descendant of the prestigious House Lambert, bestowed with the name of Horntensia.
  
  Yes, you are looking at an isekai protagonist here, have you not guessed?
  
  The House Lambert is one of the many noble houses that populates the Land of Relphia. They're very well-known to be a family of demon slayers that possessed a weapon that has been the bane of the Banished's existence; the El-Calibur, a claymore that was forged before the founding of Altair, recognized by the church as one of the weapons capable of vanquishing the Banished. It had be blessed multiple times by a new pope to keep up with it's holy powers. The House Lambert were the ones who forged it and were one of the families that had close ties with the church since their foundation.
  
  Horntensia was expected to be the next to wield the holy sword. She grew up to be a very happy child at first, being pampered very well by her servants. By the time she had reached her early teens, she had begun to train in the sword in preparation for the day that she'll inherit the El-Calibur. She had a decent education at Altair's prestigious academy and was expected to join in military service once she is done with school. After she had graduated, she would go on to do just that. But then, things had started to go downhill for her.
  
  She thought that being an "isekai protagonist", nothing bad would befall on her. She had thought to herself to be like Kazuma Satou from Konosuba, Ainz Ooal Gown from Overlord, Tanya von Degurechaff from The Saga of Tanya the Evil, Rudeus Greyrat from Mushoku Tensei or even Rimuru Tempest from That Time I Got Reincarnated as a Slime (She had read a lot of isekai stuff by the way). But no, instead she is like Naofumi Iwatani from The Rising of the Shield Hero.
  
  On the day she had inherited the El-Calibur, knights had stormed into the manor with a warrant from the court. It is said that the House Lambert were staging a coup against the royal family of Altair and that they're ordered to execute them. The Lamberts had no intention of overthrowing the royal family and that someone had framed them. Regardless of their pleas, the knights had begun their work, executing the family members and servants. The patriarch of the family had ordered his remaining servants to take Horntensia away to safety. Horntensia had refused to leave her family behind, but her servants had insisted to and thus they took her away from the mansion and into the darkest parts of Altair.
  
  Now on the run and with the remaining servants by her side, Horntensia has made it her goal to find out who was the one who framed her family for the coup. She became a mercenary and had begun her investigation, eventually learning that the ones who pinned the crime to her family has already fled for the Unknown Territory and that the family matriarch actually lives and is being taken there.
  
  Horntensia has begun preparations.
  

Theme:


Extra Theme (Shared with ???):