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THE MIND IS ITS OWN PLACE, AND IN ITSELF
                              CAN MAKE A HEAVEN OF HELL, A HELL OF HEAVEN
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- John Milton, Paradise Lost



██████████████▌ ▌ ▌ ▌ We may commit to the FLAMES۰
XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXand ise, from its ASHES into glory`•.¸¸.•´´¯`••.¸¸.•´´¯`•´
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XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXBUT AGAINST THE FALL
XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXºººWE ARE BUT DUSTººº
XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXºººWE ARE BUT DUSTººº
XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXºººWE ARE BUT DUSTººº

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                Welcome to "From Ashes To Dust." This is a literate fantasy role-play that is absolutely huge and I hope you'll enjoy. Before reading on though, please take a moment and read this post because I believe credit should be given where Credit is due *nod.*

                Created by: AcesMasquerade
                Moderators/Co-Developers: CANI-COD (A.K.A. Canibabey,) SoulDiamond (Thread-Rapist), Ayame Hagakii (The Zaz), The False Hope (Mooderator)
                Genre: Epic/Military Fantasy
                Literacy Level: Lazy-Literate to Advanced-Literate
                Images: Various Sources and edited with the Gimp image editing program.
                Inspirations: Steven Erikson's "Malazan Books of the Fallen," Brandon Sanderson's "Mistborn Trilogy" and "The Way of Kings," George R.R. Martin's "A Song of Ice and Fire," BioWare's "Dragon Age: Origins," Bethesda Game Studios' "The Elder Scrolls," and the book the continues to inspire everything I write: James Clavell's "Shogun."

                Special Thanks & Acknowledgments
                Special Thanks to Canibabey for being there every step of the way in developing this role-play, and espeicially for writing the "Magic" and "Technology" posts. Also for putting up with my constant IMs concerning the role-play *nod*
                Special Thanks to SoulDiamond for creating the epic coding for the role-play's front page and profiles. God knows I don't have the patience for that >> may you forever enjoy raping my thread Soul.
                Special thanks to Invisible Silver_Wings for telling me to write this damn thing XD and for giving me a reason to write. <3
                Special thanks to the entire "Chimera" group. Our skype calls are always awesome and this RP would probably still be notes on paper without you guys. ZAZ4EVER.

                In Memory OF
                Sometimes in life, things happen we don't always want to see. This idea that the world can be a sad and frightening place is a core principal in this role-play. However, in this world of fantasy, it is only fiction. But for some of us, this sadness becomes reality. During the development of this role-play, one of our members lost someone very dear to her: her grandfather. He was a Vietnam War veteran, whose last requests in hospice were to get laid and have a beer. He was a good man who led a good life and died too young. In honor and memory of him, I'd like to dedicate this role-play to Invisible Silver_Wings' grandfather: Gene, and I'd like everyone to enjoy this role-play and each other as best we can, and make this role-play truly something special. Sometimes life can be sad, and that's why we invented role-plays, because sometimes life can be an adventure you can only imagine.




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Romantic Businesswoman

Index



The Aristocracy


The Rebellion

Romantic Businesswoman

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XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX████████████████████████████▌ ▌ ▌ ▌ Tramarador , Baldur `•.¸¸.•´´¯`••.¸¸.•´´¯`•´
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                                                                                      THERE WERE DREAMS ONCE UPON A TIME, DREAMS NOW ALL BUT FORGOTTEN.❞ - Glenn Cook
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XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXThe Leader of the Revolution
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▬▬▬▬▬ upon CREATION on this LAND

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              °°°AGE 41
              °°°HEIGHT 5' 11"
              °°°WEIGHT 185
              °°°GENDER Male
              °°°SEXUALITY Heterosexual
              °°°CLASS Marauder

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▬▬▬▬▬ POWER to conquer FATE

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              °°°ARMOR
                  Baldur's armor is a mix of what he's collected over the years. Some is iron plate, other parts steel, and there are even areas made of wood. He wears a hauberk he collected underneath as well and is accustom to wearing the armor throughout the day which has contributed to his bulk. The armor is maneuverable enough for his stile of battle, but he certainly isn't going to be the fast man on foot.

              °°°WEAPONS
                  Valerie: Baldur’s warhammer is named after the woman he raped when he first began participating in raids as a marauder. Many of the marauders thought it was a sick joke, but Baldur’s reasoning was simply as a reminder of the consequences of wielding power. He does not know if the girl’s actual name was Valerie or not, but he supposes the sick part is he thought she looked like a Valerie.

              °°°ABILITIES
                  Fighting
                  Baldur has never been formally trained in how to wield or use a weapon. Everything about his fighting style comes from raw experience from his days as a marauder. He has used swords, bows, axes and of course hammers, but his fighting style with each is one of unpredictability and improvisation. He learned quickly what does work and what doesn’t in a fight in his first days of wielding a weapon. He isn’t one to charge or swing without purpose. But his fighting style with a weapon like a sword still probably wouldn’t hold up against someone who is formally trained. This is, perhaps, the reason Baldur feels so comfortable wielding a weapon like his maul styled warhammer, which requires very little training to use as they were originally improvised weapons for peasant soldiers.

                  Alteration
                  Baldur is also an apostate caster with abilities in alteration, though he does not have a vast knowledge of magic. Baldur, once his abilities were discovered by the marauder’s apostate, was essentially trained to be used as a pack mule. He didn’t need to use the magic well, he just needed to be able to apply it to carrying baggage and as such, Baldur lacks the control a more experience apostate might have over his abilities.

                  The ability Baldur has the most stable control over is muscle control. At any given moment, Baldur can alter his muscles so that they can handle more force or weight. This also makes him much stronger allowing him to carry more weight or apply more force when necessary. The main drawback from this is that Baldur has to constantly feed the change by drawing from his Mana pool. While it doesn’t take much Mana to maintain for quick bursts, holding the alteration for longer spans of time will quickly run him dry. Baldur can also over-exert his muscles which will cause aches and pains over the muscles affected once the alteration has been reversed.

                  A more complicated ability that Baldur has very little control over is weight alteration in control. Without changing the mass of an object, Baldur can reduce or increase the weight of an object he is touching. This much more complex change has a significantly higher cost on his Mana pool than muscle alteration and Baldur lacks control over the ability so when he reduces the weight or something, the weight is drastically reduced and if he increases the weight it is drastically increased.



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▬▬▬▬▬ with OR without a SOUL

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              °°°PERSONALITY
                  Baldur was raised amongst the likes of serfs and marauders which has given him a rather unforgiving view of the world. He is not a man without hopes and dreams, but he is a man that believes in the value of strength more than the value of virtue. Baldur shows no mercy when it comes to achieving his goals and what he believes is right or necessary. Along with this rather relentless nature comes a hardened sense of justice and a rather bitter understanding of human nature.

                  But this pitiless sense of the world only seems to extend to the world itself. Baldur is fiercely loyal to his allies and would stop at nothing to protect them. The idea of his friends dying, though a harsh reality he does not deny, pains him beyond anything else. He sees the men and women around him, regardless of their beliefs or backgrounds, as family; brothers and sisters that need to be protected as much as they need to be led. Once his blood has mixed with another’s blood on the battlefield, it creates a bond in Baldur’s mind that binds him to his friends and allies. But that bond is still one that must be earned.

                  Baldur has not survived his tribulations by easily trusting people. He holds many friends close . . . but he holds them close enough for a blade. When Baldur feels his friends, his causes, or himself have been betrayed, his “justice” tends to be the answer to his problems.

                  Perhaps these are the reasons, his relentless nature combined with a fierce loyalty, that Baldur has survived abuse after abuse throughout his life. It seems no matter what is thrown at Baldur he continues to push through like an unstoppable force too stubborn to not reach its destination. This endurance is both a blessing and a curse at times, as it makes Baldur a very hard man to change and when he gets set in his ways it is almost impossible to pull him down a different path. However, this endurance make Baldur a powerful man who seems to be able to work his way through anything.

              °°°LIKES
                  ♠Fighting
                      Baldur feels free and empowered on the battlefield

                  ♠Contemplation
                      If Baldur had made it to the Caster's Guild he might have made quite the philosopher as he does enjoy just sitting down and thinking. But his thoughts tend to be direct and quick.

                  ♠The Revolution
                      While Baldur doesn't trust everyone in his ranks just yet, he does honestly want to see The Revolution succeed.

                  ♠Tea
                      The marauders often made fun of him for this, but as enjoyable as ale is, a cup of tea focuses the mind.

                  ♠Sparring
                      It's just good fun for him and keeps his skills honed

              °°°DISLIKES
                  ♠The Royal Family and their Guardians
                      These men and women are the ones most directly involved in the deaths of his crew and he'd like nothing more that to watch their skulls crush under the weight of his hammer.

                  ♠Bows/Crossbows/Firearms
                      Long-range weaponry is lost on him . . .

                  ♠Hair
                      Nothing against other people having hair, but he hates giving anyone a possible advantage over him in a fight.

                  ♠Mines/Caves
                      He's worked one and his father died in one. Not many happy memories about these types of areas and he somewhat claustrophobic if he gets stuck in them.

                  ♠Giving up
                      See it through or never get started are the only options in Baldur's mind after the Shaysaren Rebellion


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▬▬▬▬▬ QUIETripples of the PAST

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              °°°HISTORY
                  Long before he was leading a rag-tag group of revolutionaries, Baldur was a miner’s son raised in a small town called Ironhold. From the age of eight he worked the mines with his father, Eirík Tramarador, while his mother, Hanna Tramarador, cooked and cleaned at home. After long hours of his father mining ore, and Baldur hauling around blunted and newly sharpened pickaxes, the two would come home to a stew and stories of old memories in faraway places. Baldur grew up hearing of his mother’s and father’s journeys from Vanaryth to and throughout Avilion, each one including a sudden and unbelievable twist out of an impossible situation. The stories made Baldur both envy and admire his parents; though appreciative of the tribulations his parents had to go through to give him a comfortable life.

                  Baldur’s father was ever the rebellious one, however, and was more inclined to remember the promises of hope and prosperity that Avilion was supposed to bring them. Ironhold was certainly easier living than the endless cold of the Vanarythian mines, but Eirík seemed to want more than the simple life of a miner. He would often go on about the mistreatments certain rebellious workers in Ironhold’s mine received from the mine’s less-than-liberal guardsmen and how the wages he and other workers received were not enough to pay for the drudgery of a miner’s life. The elder Tramarador wanted something more, possibly because of ideals he learned in Vanaryth or maybe because he was tired of the exertion and pains of being a miner. Nevertheless, his wants would become actions, and those actions would lead to his death.

                  While working the mines one day, Baldur’s father was sick and working slower than usual. A guard was sent to hurry the man along and when told to work harder, Baldur’s father, in a tired and unthinking manner, shrugged the guard off. The guard was insulted, and backhanded the elder Tramarador. Baldur’s father responded in kind by tackling the guard to the ground. The fight was short and ended with the guard’s mace smashing Eirík’s face in like a melon. Baldur, hauling sharpened pickaxes to the workers of the mine as usual, arrived just in time to see his father’s brains splatter against the cavern walls.

                  The next thing Baldur remembers is waking up in a barred cell with a Caster’s Guild Adept hovering over him. He was told that after his father attacked a guardsman and the guardsmen killed his father in self-defense, Baldur attacked his father’s killer and snapped into his “powers” at the same time. He was told of how the guardsmen’s bones had become melted glass inside his own body and of how Baldur punched the guardsmen with the force or a dragon’s roar. Apparently when Baldur was done with the man there was hardly anything left identifiable. Baldur was left badly wounded from alterations on his own body and treated by the Guild Adept when he arrived. The Adept told Baldur that it was rare, even during the chaos of one tapping into their mana pool for the first time, for such a massive expelling of mana to occur and to cause such drastic alterations. Baldur understood very little of it all, but understood perfectly what happened to those remarkable beings with an “inborn proficiency with magic.” He was to be taken away, never to see his father buried and never to see his mother again. And there was nothing he could do about it.

                  The next day he saddled up with the Guild Adept, bound, cuffed, and surrounded by an armed escort. They began the long journey to Vitascuren and Baldur couldn’t even turn his head to see his home fade into the distance. The last glimpse he had of Ironhold was the road ahead.

                  The journey was long and hard with Baldur fighting against the wind to stay on his horse alongside dealing with saddle-sores and the general discomfort of riding when bound. The Guild Adept tried to explain to him on the journey the opportunities the Caster’s Guild would hold for him, but Baldur hardly listened, too lost in his own mind to even begin to comprehend the “opportunities” of being aligned with the guild. It wasn’t until they had passed the hill-lands and saw Vitascuren in the distance that Baldur really understood what “opportunities” had been layed out for him. The city was grand, beautiful and even from this distance Vitascuren seemed to radiate with wealth, but Baldur saw the city as no more than a gilded prison. He knew no one in the city and knew nothing of the secrets it held. People would look on him with suspicion and fear as a Caster. He would be bound to the Caster’s Guild. Baldur found it difficult to sleep that night, unable to stop staring off at the city that glowed even at night. His prison had already begun to haunt him, but he would never get to see the inside of its walls. Already a new prison awaited him.

                  The camp was attacked by a band of marauders. Baldur heard a scream and turned in time to see the soldier on watch have his head relieved from his shoulders by an axe. The scream awoke the other two guards who scrambled for their swords, but were cut down before they could stand up. The Guild Adept was the lucky one and managed to get to his feet and cast his spells. He felled three of the marauders before being overpowered, dying with a spear bursting out the front of his throat.

                  Baldur was spared, however, when one of the marauders recognized him as the party’s cargo. Quickly realizing the uses of having a Caster working for them, the marauders took him in and marched him to their camp in the forests outside Vitascuren. Baldur would be trained by an apostate in the group over the course of only a few weeks in muscle and weight control, and quickly became the marauder’s designated pack mule. Experimentation in his abilities proved to be painful, but necessary for Baldur to learn and understand how to perform his “duty.” As long as he performed, the marauders largely left him alone aside from the occasional game they made out of testing his limits.

                  Baldur would live and travel with the marauders for the next few years of his life, everyday getting up and carrying half their supplies for them with his abilities. He hardly ever spoke, except to whisper his mother’s stories to himself in the middle of the night when the rest were sleeping, and never to the brigands and thieves that surrounded him. As Baldur grew, though, he became large and muscled from the constant weight on his body. The marauders took notice of this, and eventually their leader put an axe in his hand. It was about time he began to help during the raids.

                  His first raid involved attacking a small convoy making their way pass the forests outside Vitascuren. They were carrying tools and weapons from the smiths of Andravarri to sell in Vitascuren. For a marauder it seemed like a treasure trove and they couldn’t resist trying for the convoy. As the convoy passed they jumped out from the trees and the element of surprise gave them the advantage. One of the convoy’s guardsmen, for whatever reason, decided to go for Baldur when they noticed the charge and grabbed a war hammer out of one of the carts. Baldur was barely able to roll out of the way of the man’s swing, only to find the war hammer falling down towards him once more. On instinct, Baldur tapped into his mana and kicked himself across the dirt, away from the blow. The war hammer crashed into the ground and Baldur scrambled to his feet, axe raised. Before the man could stand upright, Baldur had imbedded the axe in his spine and pulled it back, ripping open the guard’s skull along with it. It wasn’t the first time Baldur had killed a man, but it felt like it since he couldn’t remember even seeing the face of his father’s murderer. It felt . . . empowering. Baldur had lived outside of his own control long enough to know that power like that, the power over life and death, was far more valuable than any bit of metal. He loved the feeling, and he feared it, and where some men might have been horrified by the act they had committed, Baldur came to swiftly accept it. He threw away the rusted axe and picked up the finely made war hammer, and continued on with the raid.

                  The attack was surprisingly successful. Baldur, using his abilities, ripped through guardsmen after guardsmen with his newly acquired war hammer and the rest of the bandits were stunned to see the boy so swiftly make his way through the battlefield. He was still nothing compared to the most experience marauders in the group like the apostate that “trained” Baldur and the marauder leader, but he made enough of an impact on the battle to be noticed by the rest of the group. Baldur was caught off guard when one of the marauders slapped him on the back and congratulated him on his first kills. Apparently, he had garnered a modicum of respect within the group.

                  The plunder was good, each marauder walking off with a shiny new toy to play with on their next set of victims, and the coin the group would gain from the goods would supply them for a few weeks with whores, ale, and anything other than venison. There were other rewards to be taken as well; some of the traders bringing the weapons and tools to Vitascuren had brought their daughters as well, likely in hopes of courting them with a boy from one Vitascuren’s many wealthy families. Instead they’d be courting men young and old and desperate. Baldur saw the girls being dragged away and he wanted them. He understood why; the whims and needs of a young man did not simply disappear because he was living in the woods, but he was disgusted with himself for considering it. Then the men threw one of the girls at him. Apparently, after seeing what he did to the guardsmen, they wanted to see what he could do to a girl.

                  The girl was young, no older than Baldur who was still a teenager. She had deep brown hair, a face rough and chiseled by the harsh conditions of living in the mountains, with eyes as green as grass. Her figure was plump and Baldur couldn’t help biting his lip at the thoughts coursing through his mind. She looked up at him, those green eyes locking with his. Behind those eyes was something far greater than fear. There was understanding. Understanding that what happened to her was in Baldur’s hands; whether she lived, or died, or cried it was the young man before her who was to decide her fate. Baldur, without thinking, thrust her to the ground and took her in the dirt and blood. The marauders laughed and cheered him on, but she wouldn’t even scream. She just stared at him with cold eyes. They didn’t look green anymore. Blood soaked the ground between her legs and when Baldur was done the rest of the men had their go. Her heart stopped beating when a spear was thrust through her breast, but she was already dead by the time Baldur had held her to the ground.

                  That day Baldur learned another lesson about power. Power is temptation.

                  Baldur remained with the marauders, having nowhere else he could go and found himself both hating himself for loving his newfound power and respect, but unable to deny it. He pillaged, he whored, and he plundered all with a regret he couldn’t bring himself to care about. He felt a kinship with the murderers and rapists that surrounded him and forged a brotherhood with them he loved too much to forsake. With each raid they respected him and his abilities more and that respect was something a better man would have spurned. Baldur, however, was not a better man. Like his father he wanted something more from his life and he found it in the most unexpected of places.

                  While Baldur did set himself apart in some ways from the rest of the marauders, never raping again and never killing for enjoyment, he didn’t hate his brothers for falling into the urges of power and he protected them just as the families they killed protected their own. Over the years the regrets he originally felt faded and he came to fully accept his position as a brigand, embracing it full-heartedly. By his early twenties he couldn’t imagine living any other life nor could he ever imagine losing it.

                  During one of the marauders’ raids their leader was hit by a glancing blow to his side. The wound festered and the rot dug hard into the leader. He died of the wound and the marauders were left in chaos. They had no leadership and the men were fighting over the position. Baldur stood on the sidelines as some groups ran off and others aimed to kill each other. Baldur’s “brotherhood” had fallen apart in a matter of hours and it angered him.

                  Baldur screamed at the men around him, berated and insulted them, called them idiots for letting themselves dissolve into a state of chaos and stupidity so quickly. He reminded them of their successes and what they had accomplished together throughout the years, and the speech eventually lead to him taking up the mantle of leader himself. Some fought against him, and they immediately fell under the weight of his hammer, and others ran away still. Most remembered Baldur’s prowess on his numerous raids throughout the years and many respected the level of control he seemed to always maintain. It was time to make use of the respect he had earned over the years.

                  The following years were difficult, learning the skills of leadership through resilience and experimentation. Baldur was more ambitious than the marauders’ previous leader, though, and eventually took the group to new heights. They grew in numbers and once successfully raided a shipment of myrr, earning the men enough money to live off of for years. They spent it in a matter of weeks of course.

                  Baldur was just as charismatic a leader as he was ambitious, and the men respected him for his eagerness to lead them onto the next raid. He would roar battle cries on a charge that the men would promptly take on themselves. He would also make-up stories for the men around the campfires that told of what riches they were going to come across and what beautiful women they were going to bed.

                  The band of marauders had no reason to deny the offer made to them seven years ago, not under Baldur’s ambitious leadership. They were paid to help fight alongside a few other groups of bandits and brigands when the Rebellion attacked the city. They were paid well and the plunder would be good too and if the rebellion went bad they would just run out of the city during the chaos. To them it was a simple job and certainly worth its payment.

                  Baldur had his own ambitions of course. He remembered well the wants of his father and the Rebellion seemed to have a chance of making his father’s ideals a reality. Baldur wanted to see the lower classes rise up in the world, and maybe that would avoid other deaths like his father’s. Perhaps one reason Baldur enjoyed the role of marauder so much was that he saw it as a sort of revenge against the nobles they raided and this possibility only fueled the need to join the rebellion. Baldur knew it probably would have been better to take the money and run, that the deaths his crew would likely suffer probably wasn’t worth the chance, but he couldn’t resist the opportunity to do his father proud and maybe make some stories of his own. It was a selfish desire, but one he felt he deserved.

                  Baldur didn’t expect his men would be part of the blockade against the king. The Royal Guard ripped through his ranks like butter, killing half his men. When he tried to run, the cannon-fire took the rest. A single member of his crew made it out alive with him, and at least she made it out with a full-stomach. Recovery was hell and when Baldur was back on his feet all of Shaysaren was in chaos. He ran, but this wasn’t the end for him. He saw each one of his men die and considered their deaths the result of his own selfish desires. They died for a revolution they didn’t care about because he wanted it, and he was going to see it through. He would lead the Revolution himself and would make sure their deaths would not be in vain. From a miner’s child to a brigand, and from brigand to revolutionary, Baldur found himself leading the greatest uprising Avilion had or ever would see.




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▬▬▬▬▬ TRUEexperience of the WORLD

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              °°°MISC.
                  Baldur's facial scar is a result of one of the alterations that occurred when he first discovered his powers. His face had been torn open and he's had it ever since.

                  Baldur used to be heavily dependent on his powers when fighting, but has now learned to balance skill with power usage.

                  Baldur is also rather accustom to carrying around heavy weights and will often offer to carry things for people especially when it's something large. It just feels natural to him to carry things.

              °°°THEME SONGS


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XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX Mod-Controlled

Romantic Businesswoman

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XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX████████████████████████████▌ ▌ ▌ ▌ BLACKNER , DANE KENDRICK `•.¸¸.•´´¯`••.¸¸.•´´¯`•´
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                                                                                      I'M GLAD WE'RE ALL COMPLETELY SANE HERE
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XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXthe adroit lieutenant
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▬▬▬▬▬ upon CREATION on this LAND

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              °°°AGE 27 "Most say I look my age. Those who don't are assholes."
              °°°HEIGHT 5' 9" "I'm pretty average"
              °°°WEIGHT 155 lbs "I'm built like a smith."
              °°°GENDER Male "I have no idea why you even had to ask this."
              °°°SEXUALITY Pansexual "Isn't that a nicer way of saying that I see the ugliness in everyone?"
              °°°CLASS Rebel solider, lieutenant, craftsman, apostate (alteration) "That's a mouthful. Most people just call me a 'Pistolero.'"


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▬▬▬▬▬ POWER to conquer FATE

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              °°°ARMOR
                  Dane's armor basically consists of the clothes on his back. He's meant to keep his opponents at a distance, so anything he wears would slow him down. The only thing he keeps constant for engagements is his leather holster, which holds his pistols and 10 modular canisters. He also has a small, flat leather bag which holds extra cartridges for his rifle.
              "I don't plan on trading blows, so any armor would do more harm than good."

              °°°WEAPONS
                  Dane wields two Magitek pistols, the Granas and the Valmar (named after an alternate religion of two dueling Gods, one who stood for Good and one who stood for Evil, who each reigned over five different domains) of his own design and creation. They feature modular converters, allowing him to shoot fire, electricity, water, ice, or air as he sees fit. The trigger assembly has three positions- hold, charge, and shoot. Starting pushed forward in the hold position, they click downwards when pulled into the charge position. This position is the normal trigger position on any other pistol, but engages the leeching properties of the pistols. It takes 1.5 seconds to charge the shot, and then only draws the necessary Mana to keep the shot stable until it is fired. Pulling back the trigger to the shoot position releases the shot at high velocities, and also cuts off Mana leeching. When the trigger is returned to the charge position, the next shot charges in another 1.5 seconds. The entire process is almost completely silent, save for any sounds the shots themselves would emit (such as the quiet roar of fire or the crackling of lightning). When done firing, the trigger can be quickly flicked forward from the shoot to hold position, ready to be holstered or to change cartridges. If the shot is fully charged, it takes 5 seconds to safely dissipate the shot when pushed to the hold position. When pushed down, the lever on the inward-facing side of each gun fold the barrel and part of the action forward, allowing access to the converters, which can safely be pulled out and replaced with bare fingers. Because of Dane's magical specialization of pushing his own Mana into other things, he can overcharge his shots to make them more powerful, at the cost of a portion of Mana not from his Mana Pool. However, this also damages the components of the gun, and a slender tube just below the barrel vents excess energy out to prevent overcharging to the point of completely destroying the gun.
              "The power and flexibility make me just as dangerous as an elemental caster."

                  Dane's most recent weapon is a cutting-edge rifle, which he calls the Ramirez (named after his father). It shoots bullets 3/8" in diameter and uses gunpowder, both of which are wrapped together in a paper cartridge which leaves very little ash. The bullets are made with lead around a flat circle of iron as the dimple, and a hollowed copper point. The rifle accepts five of these hand-crafted cartridges at a time, which all sit in a circular revolver-like cylinder. When the trigger is pulled, a spring-loaded red-hot pin shoots forward into the gunpowder, igniting it and firing the bullet. The rear lever must be pushed forward and back to remove the firing pin and cycle the rounds, respectively. The front-most lever, when pulled back towards the handle, also removes the firing pin, but also opens the breech to allow access to the cylinder. The entirety of the barrel is lined with Magitek to simultaneously increase the momentum (both speed and mass) of the bullet until it passes the muzzle. The Mana remains charged in the shot, but gradually decreases over the course of about 3/4 of a second. The excess Mana allows the shot to maintain its altered mass directly proportional to the stored Mana, which is more than enough time for the shot to come to rest. The damage is relatively clean, but it can pass through even the strongest and thickest of armors. Because of the increase in speed, the stock is also designed to absorb more recoil from the shot the instant it fires; the first few tests without this addition almost broke Dane's shoulder.
              "If I can see them and have time to line up a shot, they're dead."

              °°°ABILITIES
                  Dane's most notable ability is his prowess at crafting, especially Magitek. Magitek is normally created as a joint effort between smiths, technicians, and Mages, but Dane only takes custom jobs so he is both a smith and technician. He was one of the very best in Shaysaren, and also one of the few who knew how to create Leach Magitek. His expertise was highly sought after, so he only used the best materials and processes, and created his own processes to push the boundaries at the time. Even when given a budget, he could usually combine other, cheaper ways to create almost the desired effect, albeit slightly weaker. He works very quickly and efficiently, and barely ever "breaks" anything or causes it to stop functioning. This led him to be one of the most-demanded Magitek craftsmen in the city, and roughly 1/4 of all Leach Magitek made in Shaysaren was a Blackner Custom.
              "Finding anyone who can even come close to my skill is quite a feat."

                  The explanation behind Dane's success is that he possesses a remarkable skill. He is, in fact, an Alteration Mage, specializing in the movement of Mana. His only known spell allows him to press his own Mana into other objects, such as a creation in progress or another person. He possesses a slightly lower-than-average Mana Pool for a Caster, so spells don't last for too long without rest, and this is hampered even further by the fact that it costs him Mana to move more of his Mana.
              "Terribly inefficient. Not worth using it, except in a pinch."

                  Dane's favorite pastime is shooting. As a kid, he practiced with his own bow, and when he grew up he would take shots with his grandfather's old muzzle loader. Following his father as a craftsman, he had naturally steady hands, and he had a good eye. He could hit an apple a hundred yards away with the rifle, from a standing position. He could have made money as a rifleman, but he just loved crafting more, and a dangerous lifestyle didn't seem like his thing. Throughout the years, he created multiple pistols for his personal use, each better than the last, and practiced if he ever had the time, just to relax. Naturally, he's still great with a rifle, but if he was ever given a bow, he's sure it wouldn't take too much time to be at least decent by it.
              "I'm not a shooter. It's just something I'm really good at."

                  After joining the revolution, Dane picked up a few other useful skills. He can hold his own ins sparring against somewhat skilled opponents, but only because of his physical size as a blacksmith. He is also a fairly good runner and is competent at navigating rooftops, having practiced a bit before joining the Revolution. He picked up stealth naturally, and can move and attack quietly during the dead of night. He is also decent at being a leader, but is glad he doesn't have to lead all that frequently.
              "I've picked up a few skills during my time here."

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▬▬▬▬▬ with OR without a SOUL

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              °°°PERSONALITY
                  Dane has no cares in life aside from keeping his head. His sarcastic personality usually makes him more enemies than friends, not that he really minds. He’ll usually say what he’s thinking, but more likely than not it won’t come out “pleasantly.” He has dealt with a few thieves in his shop, he is comfortable with ending a human life if need be, with only a small bit of remorse.

                  His passion in life is creating Magitek. He can multitask well, but he won’t put off anything. He completes projects in the order he gets them and never sets timetables, but he manages to complete his commissions quickly and efficiently. He thinks logically and rationally, and is a bit harsh with people who can’t follow his quick thoughts. After long bout of work, he is prone to high stress levels, and he’s more likely to outright snap at people. However, at the end of the night, he will occasionally slip into his personal loss and loneliness if he's alone.

                  Despite all of his faults, when push comes to shove, he is fiercely dedicated to the Rebellion. He just won’t stick his neck too far out.


              °°°LIKES
                  + Crafting "Didn’t see that one coming, did you?"
                  + Shooting "It helps relieve the stress, which I seem to have a lot of now."
                  + Being alone "The fewer people to disturb me while I’m working, the better."
                  + Sarcasm "It's funny when dumb people don't know I'm making fun of them."
                  + Sweet rolls "It’s a delicious way to keep me going for a bit longer."
                  + Theorizing "The only difficulty is finding people smart enough."


              °°°DISLIKES
                  - Stupid people "Really, who does like them?"
                  - Stress "See above."
                  - Brimstone "Working with that stuff makes my entire workshop smell like bad farts."
                  - Beans "They give me gas. Again, see above"
                  - Myrr "That s**t tastes nasty. And Leach Magitek makes it completely unnecessary."
                  - Bees "They attack in swarms. And their stings cause me to break out in hives."
                  - Kids "They're worse than bees, even without the hives."


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▬▬▬▬▬ QUIETripples of the PAST

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              °°°HISTORY
                  Dane Kendrick Blackner was born to two loving parents in the city of Andravarri. His father, Ken, was a blacksmith, while his mother helped a nearby baker in the morning and at night. The two worked hard to make ends meet, and Dane was their second child; his sister, Melissa, was only older than him by a year and a half.

                  Growing up, his story was about as typical as it could get. He was raised mostly by his mother when she was around, learning mannerisms and other household chores. His father crafted all kinds of things, from simple tools to full suits of armor, and taught Dane his profession. Dane started with simple objects and began working his way up. However, he had careful hands and could work on smaller objects with relative ease, so his father pulled some strings and managed to get him an apprenticeship with Jeff Howen, a technician in the city, when he was 12. Dane worked there in the mornings, but would return home in the afternoon and help his father out. The technician didn't let him work on tough projects or any of the inner-workings of Magitek from the get-go, but Dane performed all the jobs he was given excellently and earned his right to look at more and more advanced projects in time.

                  Every now and then, the technician would give Dane a piece of Magitek to deconstruct, study, and put back together again. When he was 15, he was about to start messing around with a blazing sword when it nearly caught his house on fire. Luckily, he reacted quick enough to put out the fire, and nobody was home to catch him. But, it raised a serious dilemma. The sword would only react to Myrr, so how could he have set it off? Upon examination, he noted that there was some minor damage consistent with overloading Mana into the Magitek. However, it was rare to see such damage spread over most of the Magitek. He managed to fix the sword up on his own coin, and made it a goal to figure out exactly what happened.

                  Despite his minor setback, he was still given pieces of Magitek to deconstruct and reconstruct. Through several experiments, he had a knack for activating any piece of Magitek if he put his mind to it. He eventually came to the logical conclusion that he must be a Caster, and his ability must be to share his Mana with other things. He told nobody about his new found power. Even as a young adult, he knew he would be forced to go to the Caster's guild if his secret was uncovered; he liked crafting so much more.

                  By the time he was 18, he had opened up his own shop in the city, focusing solely on Magitek, both as a smith and a technician. This combination wasn't all that common, but by now he had a great deal of experience in both jobs. It wasn't long after that he got his first taste of the rare Leach Magitek. He couldn't believe what he saw. The construction made perfect sense to him, and his first reverse-engineering of it with his own touches was twice as efficient as the original. However, the market for Leach Magitek items was small, and some of the raw materials required were very expensive. With his extra income, he managed to create two other Leach Magitek items, his first pair of pistols, while he still lived in Andravarri, but otherwise would not be able to touch the stuff again until two years later.

                  News of the Shaysaren Rebellion hit the city like a bomb. Many people tried to flee the city, fearful of their own lives and the lives of their families. Dane, however, looked into the future to see a rebirth of Magitek after the city was rebuilt. As quickly as he could, he packed everything into a cart and moved into a small workshop in the city. Obviously, the city was devastated, and for the first few days, he had zero income. As he was regretting his decision, a lone teen wandered into his shop. He was looking for someone from whom he could commission the best arms and armor ever seen, and Dane was his last choice. Dane asked why the young man wanted him to do it, and he said it was because only the best knew Leach Magitek, and everyone who knew it was busy with rebuilding the city. Dane agreed, and the next day, he had a sketch of the sword and armor and their intended functions. After some minor details and aesthetic changes, Dane got to work on procuring the raw materials, using his connections back in Andravarri. Once they came in, he worked from dawn-to-dusk on the equipment. In about a week and a half of working from dawn until dusk, he was proud to have a finished product. It fit the man like a glove, and was the epitome of perfection. The man not only paid much more than the agreed-upon amount, but he also became a walking advertisement for Dane.

                  It wasn't too long before he steadily got more and more commissions. His superior craftsmanship became well-known, and many nobles and middle-class citizens went to him to get their Magitek done, both Leach and Myrr. We refused group engineering projects, preferring to make use of both his skills during personal commissions. He quickly started making enemies among several Magitek engineers for "stealing their business." He tried to remain cordial at first, but eventually didn’t care enough when they treated him with contempt. They still tried to proclaim they were better than him, solely because they had been working with Magitek longer than he had, even though he could both smith and engineer his wares. In time, all the stress of multiple tasks and working sunrise-to-sunset most days started to wear on him. He knew he was the best, and most, if not all, of the Leach Magitek craftsmen couldn't even compete with his efficiency. However, he was humble enough to hide it, but it wore on him so much he developed an extremely caustic personality with anyone who wasn't a customer (and it would occasionally slip out with them every now and again).

                  There was, however, one young woman who stuck to him. She would visit him at nights, after the sun had set and he was done with his work. His pistols were the first thing that intrigued her, and he explained how they work and the two talked about magical theory. He recognized she was a Caster, or at the very least an apostate, and the two would meet many more times after that. They bonded over the usual stupidity of people, magical theory, he told her about Magitek, and she told him about magical creatures. The two enjoyed each other's company so much that they decided to become engaged.

                  Over the years, several of his more vengeful rivals had tried to create Magitek to spy on his work habits, in a vain attempt to learn something to better their own engineering and ultimately create better devices than he could. Dane was prepared, and managed to thwart almost all of them. However, there was one that slipped through, and it did much more damage than he could have thought possible. While crafting and testing a shield for a mercenary, the rival discovered his secret as an Apostate. Immediately, he was turned in to the guards, and in less than an hour, three apostate hunters entered his shop, one of whom was the very same man who had come to Dane just over six years before. Dane was given two options: go to the Caster's Guild, or die. Dane brushed them off, telling them he would contact the Caster's Guild for a personal instructor. The guards, however, would not budge; orders were orders. Dane refused to go to the Caster's Guild, so that left them with only one option- they drew their weapons. Taking hold of the shield he was working on minutes before, Dane charged the guards. As they prepared to cut him down, the shield emitted a bright flash of light. Dane pushed his Mana into it to force it to react before it was even struck. The guards were momentarily blinded, and by the time they had regained their sight, he was out the window.

                  Dane couldn't run for long. He knew he was being chased, and more guards would be hunting him soon enough. One of the apostate hunters had found him; the other two had split off to cover more area. He donned the shield and pulled out his pistol, ready to fight to the death. A few more guards also came to the hunter's aid, and surrounded Dane. Before he could even react, one other person joined and kicked off the fight. To make a long story short, this person had saved his life, and as the two escaped asked why he was being chased. Dane eventually responded that he was now wanted as an apostate (since his rescuer clearly didn't believe they simply disliked his singing) and he was asked to join a group of ragtag individuals interested in taking the kingdom. Heroics and rebellion weren't his thing, but surviving was, so he really didn't have much of a choice. Besides, if the kingdom was captured, they would most likely abolish the law which made it mandatory for all Casters to join the Guild, so he would eventually be a free man. Even if they failed, he was dead anyway, so he decided to join them.

                  In nine month's time, he proved himself worthy of being the veteran's right-hand man, and had completely upgraded almost all the Magitek he could get his hands on. His workshop was relocated piece by piece, and he created anything anyone asked of him. He had more than enough free time and unused resources to create a new rifle and sharpen his shooting skills. Now, he's ready to take back the kingdom, for his freedom.


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▬▬▬▬▬ TRUEexperience of the WORLD

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              °°°MISC.
                  The reason for Dane's near-obsession with increasing the efficiency with Leach Magitek is because his innate magical abilities are anything but.

              °°°THEME SONGS


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XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX The False Hope

Romantic Businesswoman

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XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX████████████████████████████▌ ▌ ▌ ▌ Tar'Drak , Volos `•.¸¸.•´´¯`••.¸¸.•´´¯`•´
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                                                                                      Casters think they're gods, I'll show them gods...
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XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXa caster hunter
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▬▬▬▬▬ upon CREATION on this LAND

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              °°°AGE Thirty One
              °°°HEIGHT Six Foot One Inch
              °°°WEIGHT Two Hundred Ten Pounds
              °°°GENDER Male
              °°°SEXUALITY Heterosexual
              °°°CLASS Rebel Soldier / Caster Hunter

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▬▬▬▬▬ POWER to conquer FATE

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              °°°ARMOR

              °°°WEAPONS

              °°°ABILITIES
                  Excellent Physical Conditioning: A lifetime of running wildlife down with a knife and spear have made Volos extremely physically fit. He cant overpower an Alter, but any non-caster would be hard pressed to out-muscle the caster-hunter.

                  Tracking/Woodcraft: The last Tar'Drak is most at home in a wooded environment, but has managed to pick up urban tracking without much difficulty. Excellent eyesight coupled with extreme attention to detail allows Volos to chase down his prey both in crowded streets and obstacle laden back-alleys. Casters using mana leave a 'trail' he can follow with his Mana Sensitivity for a few minutes before it dissipates.

                  Traps/Snares: Volos has spent his life making snares, pit traps, bear traps, cage traps, and a variety of other simple hunting apparatus'. If the caster-hunter comes across prey too swift to catch, and has a little preparation time, he will lay a trap and chase them into it.

                  Anatomy: Sometimes a Varrimark noble would pay handsomely for a taxidermy'd animal. From this experience Volos has learned the ins and outs of many a natural creature, and what they have in common. Searching inside dead apostates for a tangible power source that might fuel their heretical magics has also familiarized Volos with the particulars of the human animal.

                  Dirty Fighting/Cutting: The caster-hunter isn't a soldier, he's a murderer. His fighting style has neither finesse nor tact. If he is fully armed and armored, he seeks to run down and overpower his opponent as quickly as possible, breaking through their guard and smashing their skulls into bone-fragments. If lightly armed and armored, he will use every dirty trick in the book to gain an advantage, throwing grit in their eyes, biting, eye-gouging, low blows; but his favorite tactic is one he used to great success on bears in Varrimark, cut an artery (typically in the groin or neck where armor is weakest) and wait for his opponent to bleed out.

                  Mana Sensitivity: Very sensitive to mana use, much like when someone knows they're being watched or has a 'bad feeling' about a course of action. Mana use appears to Volos as a stark 'wrongness' about a person or place, the range of this sixth sense is about shouting distance. Distinct schools of magic have their own 'scent' or 'feel' and Volos can differentiate between them, but cannot glean specifics; for example: an Altered stone that used to be sand has the 'scent/feel' of alteration magic, a psychically persuaded person has the 'scent/feel' of psionic magic. Having a large mana pool is not enough for the caster-hunter to mark them out, they must use at least a tiny bit of that pool before Volos can track them. Magitek mana-use feels 'artificial' to Volos, he can easily tell the difference between a Magitek spell and a real one.


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▬▬▬▬▬ with OR without a SOUL

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              °°°PERSONALITY
                  ◦ Zealous: Volos has the religious fever of a crusader. He dislikes the worship of the Six Elements, but not violently so. He does hate casters with a fiery burning passion however. They warp reality to their whims, summon blasphemous demons, and twist natural creatures into freaks, the Eternal Dragon has commanded they be stopped and the last Tar'Drak has vowed to do just that.

                  ◦ Mercurial: The caster-hunter is somewhat temperamental and prone to bouts of anger when magic is felt in the area. He will sometimes go AWOL (away without leave) when he thinks he can pursue a mage in the area without fear of overwhelming reprisal. He will sometimes use his deafness as an excuse when ignoring orders, he tries to keep this to a minimum however, least others think him incompetent.

                  ◦ Tenacious: Once Volos has the scent, very little can distract him from pursuing his goals to their conclusion. A lifetime of hunting in the Varrimark forests have given him incredible patience and drive when in the predator mentality.

                  ◦ Self-Conscious: The caster-hunter's deafness is something he doesn't like to bring out into the open air if he can help it. Years of not speaking or hearing has inflected itself on his speech, and he doesn't like the looks he gets when speaking to someone for the first time. He is very poor at pantomiming his desires, does not know sign language, and hates speaking, so more often than not he remains silent unless directly addressed.

                  ◦ Callus: Volos has lost everything he once loved, but in his mind this has only set him free. He is rarely moved to sympathy for others, but he is not cruel (except to casters). It is difficult to say whether this numbness is the result of his religious revelation, Post Traumatic Stress, or both.

                  ◦ Anarchist:
                  The caster-hunter is a strong believer in Natural Law and this sometimes conflicts with conventional laws. The Eternal Dragon has decreed to Volos that kingdoms are a perverse social construct that run counter to the greater good, and that small groups are the natural state of Man. Because of this, Volos is determined to fight until not one brick stands atop another.

              °°°LIKES
                  ◦ Dragons: Views them as avatars of his deity, The Eternal Dragon.
                  ◦ Venison: Favorite food, tastes best when he kills it himself.
                  ◦ Rock Climbing: Favorite pass-time when not hunting casters.
                  ◦ Hunting Casters: Its important to enjoy one's work.
                  ◦ Simplicity: If it cant be summed up in a sentence, it probably isn't worth doing.
                  ◦Artemis: The raven is a kindred spirit and loyal companion.

              °°°DISLIKES
                  ◦ Casters: The only real monsters in this world.
                  ◦ Communicating with others: Its hard for Volos to make himself understood sometimes.
                  ◦ Reading/Writing: Was never formally educated and is barely literate.
                  ◦ The weight of his armor/weapons: An unfortunate necessity in combat. Spends most of the time without his armor on for this reason.
                  ◦ Nobility: Convinced they would not survive without society to protect them, and good riddance.
                  ◦Very young girls: A painful reminder of his lost daughter.


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▬▬▬▬▬ QUIETripples of the PAST

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              °°°HISTORY
                  The small village of Stone Crown was so named due to its proximity to the mountains of Varrimark and for most of his life, Volos was happy there. He hunted in the forests for food to eat and furs to trade with the city. He had a small but loving family, a wife who was a skilled tanner and a young daughter who always remembered every one of her dreams, life was good.

                  On the eve of Volos' trip to Varrimark to sell his furs, a massive dragon swooped down from the mountains and annihilated the hunter's entire village with a roar that sundered the small wooden cabins like they were made of match sticks. The survivors were too insensate from their sudden burst eardrums to run when the behemoth landed and devoured whoever was unlucky enough not to be crushed by their own dwellings. The hunter dragged himself from the wreckage of his house, deaf, gravely wounded, and barely aware of his surroundings.

                  For days he lie torpid before a raven pecked at an open wound on his arm, giving a harsh croak he couldn't hear. Volos came to his senses, saw the devastation wrecked upon his home and swore vengeance against the dragon that obliterated his world. After packing what he needed and burying his family, Volos trekked into the mountains for a week, seeking to slay the monster that wronged him or die trying. A few days after running out of food and water, he came upon a dragon graveyard littered with the bones of the flying behemoths, in its center was a heavily breathing dragon, the same one that had ravaged his village, being crushed under the weight of its own years.

                  Volos screamed in rage in the face of the dragon, his vengeance denied him, cursed to live alone with nothing but unvented hatred and crushed dreams of a simple, peaceful life with his family. He didn't expect the dying dragon to scream back; Volos was bludgeoned by the force of the bellow into unconsciousness and it was then that his first vision was gifted to him. A dark dragon with two sets of wings and a noble bearing appeared to him and told him that he was now free.

                  The Eternal Dragon told the humble hunter his quiet life was an illusion, the world was filled with horrors beyond reckoning, both within and without. The dragon spoke of demons that steal the souls of the living, wraiths that steal mens lives with a whisper and chimeric creatures that slaughtered across the country side with wild abandon. All these creatures, the dragon said, where the product of Mages; men who in their hubris, wielded the power of gods to change creation according to their whims, and in their arrogance, unleashed monsters beyond knowing.

                  Volos was told he had been lied to his entire life, the Six Elements of Reality were merely a justification for the madness of those in power. The Mages had lied to everyone about how altruistic they were, how disciplined, how humble. They brought horrors into the world and covered up the damage they did to prevent panic and reprisal for their misdeeds. The Eternal Dragon had sent its avatar to free Volos from his self-deception, and ensured he would never hear another lie again.

                  The Eternal Dragon charged Volos with destroying these monsters who wore the skin of men, and ensure that humanity once again lived in harmony with nature instead of corrupting it. Volos felt with every fiber of his being that this was a just and righteous cause. The loss of his loved ones still weighed heavily on him, but he realized that they would never have allowed him to leave, and even if he did, they might have been used against him by the men he was charged to slay. He would have to forsake vengeance to do what was right.

                  Volos awoke to find that the avatar of his god had shed its mortal coil. The hunter set to work for months making weapons and armor of righteous divinity, crafted from the shell of his god's messenger. He imbibed nothing but the messengers flesh and blood during his labors, and as time passed, the hunters skin darkened and a strange mist fell on the dragon graveyard. When the tools of his quest were at last complete, the raven who had stirred him to wakefulness months before did so again, spurring the hunter to action.

                  Volos named the raven after his daughter, Artemis. The raven slowly lead the hunter safely down the mountain and always stayed near during his long trek to Shaysaren. Horrifying visions in the dead of night lead the hunter to the capital of Avilion, where he found the rebellion.

                  The apostates he found within bothered him immensely, but they were not the worst offenders of the natural order. He was told of some organization called the 'Guild'; these highly trained casters were the ones who committed the worst offenses, summoning demons, twisting natural beings, and using their political and metaphysical power to put them above the common man. He was loath to trust these heresy dabbling rebels and their apostate leader, but even Volos knew he couldn't tackle all the worlds casters by himself. He would follow these heretics for now, and before the dust settled on the soon to be ruined kingdom, he would be in a perfect position to cull the rebellion apostates as well.

                  During his time in the capital, Volos has managed to slay a handful of apostates not aligned with the rebellion, some he followed home, some he provoked and slew in 'self defense', others he out and out murdered in the dead of night. He could feel them, the wrongness of their existence, the perversity of their acts, the sin in their souls screamed out to him without sound, and he answered their call for absolution. In the mage-hunter's mind, he's had a good start, but he has a long way to go.


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▬▬▬▬▬ TRUEexperience of the WORLD

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              °°°MISC.
                  Artemis is not supernatural in nature, just a loyal and clever pet. Volos' 'visions' are not divine in nature, PTSD has given him vivid night-terrors while he sleeps, but he believes them to be messages from his god. Whether or not the Eternal Dragon exists and speaks to Volos is up to the Mod.

              °°°THEME SONGS


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XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX SandGriffin

Romantic Businesswoman

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XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX████████████████████████████▌ ▌ ▌ ▌ GALLAHAD , ETHAN AZRAEL `•.¸¸.•´´¯`••.¸¸.•´´¯`•´
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                                                                                      To know all is not to forgive all. It is to despise everybody.
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XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXthe heir to the royal family
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▬▬▬▬▬ upon CREATION on this LAND

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              °°°AGE 21
              °°°HEIGHT 5'10"
              °°°WEIGHT 155 lbs.
              °°°GENDER Male
              °°°SEXUALITY In Closet
              °°°CLASS Noble

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▬▬▬▬▬ POWER to conquer FATE

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              °°°ARMOR
                  Light to nonexistent; he prefers the finer fabrics of his high-fashion tunics.

              °°°WEAPONS
                  He keeps a sword at his waist and a dagger in his boot as well as a whip opposite his sword.

              °°°ABILITIES
                  Being lean, strength is not something that's a complete advantage. Ethan is light on his feet. He's also a skilled fencer. Once could consider him slightly acrobatic.


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▬▬▬▬▬ with OR without a SOUL

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              °°°PERSONALITY
                  Even on a good day, Ethan is a bit detached. A good mood or jovial state of being for him generally comes off as somewhat stoic. When he's not ranting and raving, he doesn't really have much to say. He is a silent observer until he feels the need to force his input into a situation. He is arrogant and walks around with his nose in the air. He belittles people without thinking twice and is never one to apologize for anything. He doesn't like physical contact and will go as far as to wash his hands immediately after touching someone, so supposedly "germophobe" could be used to describe him, but really, anyone beneath him is "dirty."

                  On a bad day, Ethan isn't the type to hesitate before issuing a verbal lashing. His eyes are known to get a rather insane look to them as his words assault his victims like a barb-wired whip. He doesn't like it when he feels like someone is imposing on his authority. He is proud and will never back down from a fight or a challenge. Narcissism is one of his biggest flaws. He does tend to admire himself and doesn't even hear when others do, he just assumes everyone worships along with him no matter what the situation. He is prone to tantrums ans taking his rage out on inanimate objects like end tables and lamps. He seems like he's always frustrated, and, under it all, there's a massive bit of confusion which he does not quite understand, and that only contributes to his rage and piss-poor temper.

              °°°LIKES
                  Aside from himself, there isn't very much that this snide young man likes. Chess is one, a strategy war game. He also enjoys fencing and his other physical workouts. Fine dining and high fashion are also major interests he partakes in. He likes theatrical performances and balls. Self-satisfaction and things going his way are also on that list, of course.

              °°°DISLIKES
                  People, in general. While he likes balls and banquets, he has a distaste for music. He doesn't trust easily and he especially doesn't like change. He cannot stand being denied anything and he hates feeling threatened. He does not like reading or art. Losing, taunting from others, and hearing any nay-say tend to fray his nerves. And he hates kittens, or, well... most animals. Not an animal lover. Big surprise there.


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▬▬▬▬▬ QUIETripples of the PAST

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              °°°HISTORY
                  Ethan's childhood was pretty standard for an heir. He was raised by nannies and tutors, fed the finest food, and dressed in the finest clothing, by others, of course. He never dressed himself and attended lessons of all sorts with very little downtime as his caretakers ushered him around. He was jaded, sheltered from the life that existed outside of his home. He never grew attached to people because so many of them came in and out of his life and he felt as if his parents neglected him, despite the efforts his mother put into tending to him on her own (after all, everyone remember's scenario's differently). Still, the thought of one day becoming King of Avilion made him smirk. One day he'd show everyone how great he was, they'd all see!

                  He was fourteen when the rebellion ruined his life. As if the transition into his teenage years wasn't confusing enough for him (for reasons he did not even begin to understand) his entire way of life was threatened. He firsthand witnessed horrors that no child, nor young man, should ever have to witness. Rape, plunder, and pillaging became the norm around him in the snap of a finger. So much tragedy struck that night that he forced out images over the years so he could sleep at night, but still, a grudge burrowed itself into the young heir's soul. He hated those disgusting lower-class mongrels. They should have been punished, every last one of them! If HE was king, he'd put them all back in their proper place! If he had his way, guards would be at every street corner with whips and chains, keeping those peasants where they belonged.

                  But no, seven years passed and the "revolution" continued. Those peons were still going about as if they had rights or something. Pah! What an idea! And yet his own father's willpower to rule with an iron fist, as he should, seems to be wavering. Resentment still swells within him as his grudge against the lower-class thrives. If only his father would just disappear. Then Avilion would be his to rule as it should be ruled! He would be a strong king and people would remember him for hundreds of years to come! He would restore Avilion to its former glory-- if only he had the chance.


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▬▬▬▬▬ TRUEexperience of the WORLD

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              °°°MISC.
                  • Mother: While Ethan has never grown attached to any other people, his mother is one of his most valued possessions. If any woman ever had an impact on him, it was her, and he would do almost anything that didn't make him feel threatened for her. He is virtually a clone of her, but if it came to his position as heir, he wouldn't hesitate doing what he had to for himself.
                  • Stuttering: When he was young, Ethan had a speech impediment. Through classes, though, he mastered masking this issue. The only time it ever comes up is when he's put on the spot or surprised. He will start stuttering and stammering, and it makes him really frustrated.
                  • Germophobe: Ethan hates germs and goes to extremes to avoid them. He wears gloves almost all the time and, if he has to shake hands with someone, will go as far to burning the gloves afterwards.
                  • Superstitious: He is almost superstitious to a fault, which he gets from his mother's devoutness to religion. Bad luck might as well be the plague to this prince.
                  • OCD: It's not so much about cleaning (although that would contribute to his fear of germs) or counting as much as it is that Ethan is very set on his routine and also has an obsession with symmetry. If a person's face is obviously not symmetrical, he tends to get uncomfortable.
                  • Fire: Fire is power to this character. Not only is it feared and strong, but it's also cleansing. He likes to compare himself to a powerful flame. He aims to cleanse his world.

              °°°THEME SONGS


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XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX EMMALETH

Romantic Businesswoman

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XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX████████████████████████████▌ ▌ ▌ ▌ DE VAUX , FAYNE `•.¸¸.•´´¯`••.¸¸.•´´¯`•´
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                                                                                      CHEER UP, THE WORST IS YET TO COME
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XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXthe cynical adept
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▬▬▬▬▬ upon CREATION on this LAND

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              °°°AGE 26
              "Wonderful, twenty-four more years until I'm fifty."

              °°°HEIGHT 5"7
              "Yes, I'm tall. Deal with it."

              °°°WEIGHT 125 lbs
              "Not sure why this is any of your business."

              °°°GENDER Female
              "How many times must I repeat this? For the last time: YES, I am a woman you daft, cross-eyed ignoramus!"

              °°°SEXUALITY Heterosexual
              "Is this important to you? I only care if you're interested and not a complete idiot. Trust me, I'll know if you're lying."

              °°°CLASS Caster (Psion)
              "I prefer the classification 'inwardly and cognitively sophisticated in harnessing the dormant and active living essences and putting them into practice together with the true nature of mental and emotional development'. But I suppose for your sake we'll just put it into layman's terms and you can just call me a Psion."
              °°°ALIGNMENT Neutral Good
              "What can I say? I have no reason to rebel, I do as I'm told, but I'm no goody two-shoes either. I'll do what I have to for my brethren, but I'm not going to drop everything to please the higher-officials. If I have to break a rule or two to help our cause or a comrade, so be it, but don't come crying to me if you don't agree with the way I do things."


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▬▬▬▬▬ POWER to conquer FATE

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              °°°ARMOR
                  - A Stylish Black Hat accompanied by a snazzy feather to keep her face protected against the sun's rays and to keep her more concealed when out amongst the public.
                  - A Black Cloak accompanied by a lower face-cover used to also keep her concealed from the public. Not so nice on hot days, but at least she still has the hat. She doesn't really say the reason why she wears the thing almost all the time (unless she has a day off and is in her room reading or is doing whatever she does), but part of the reason is probably for intimidation factors and/or because a part of her that she does not want to admit is still ashamed to show herself in public after finding out she was a psion after knowing how much they were unwelcome.
                  - Light Leather Shoulder-Pads. Makes her shoulders a bit broader, which is the one factor where people confuse her gender at times. Comes with the cloak, but helps keep it shaped right and loose around her.
                  - A silver and yellowish Pendant Necklace which she won't say to anyone where she got from or why she keeps it. Truth is that this happens to be the last gift she received from her "missing in action" fiance, which means that this is also happens to be her engagement present. Despite the resentment and hurt from not knowing what happened to him and thinking the worst, she still holds "some" hope that he might return as she is unable to part with the necklace (even if she denies this). She wears it all the time, but never shows it unless she forgets to hide it properly or if she's looking at it in private and doesn't realize when someone enters the room (which has happened on multiple occasions); not to mention she will go berserk if she looses it. This item has often been the target of petty thieves many times of the like before due to it's high value, making Fayne ever the more suspicious of strangers.

              °°°WEAPONS
                  - Even though Fayne isn't much of a fighter, the only weapon(s) she carries around are between 20-30 Throwing Needles (depending on if she loses any) that are kept within the lining of her cloak. She only uses these in situations where she is too angry to focus and use her telepathic psionic powers to defend herself or support her allies; this is also the only known way that she uses her telekinetic psionic abilities at all, though weak as they may be, she can still muster enough power to move the light needles around freely..

              °°°ABILITIES
                  BASIC


                  - Awareness (She can keep track of many people in a room at once and take notice to slight changes in body language and environment)

                  - Speed/Agility (One of her main aspects in avoiding confrontation and losing foes when they are on her trail. This also comes naturally as she is usually always running around both via rooftops and on ground level, keeping everyone informed and up to par).

                  - Stealth (Used to stay out of the main fights and still help her comrades, as well as throw opponents off without having them realize it's her. She also prefers to not be noticed if she can help it).

                  - Intimidation (Though this doesn't work on everyone, it helps lower the guard down of those unwanted confrontations to give her more of an edge if she needs it).

                  PSIONIC


                  - Telepathy: Fayne possesses the basics of telepathy with the exception of it existing as a passive trait that always remains active whether she likes it or not. Much more extreme in her younger years, Fayne has grown and trained herself to suppress it enough where it isn't as involuntarily invasive (to both herself and other people) as it once was. To her it is a double-edged sword; though she does find it useful in many situations mainly surrounding the guild and the things they do, overall she loathes it because it most often leads to always feeling restless from the continuous over-concentration.

                  Her telepathy can pick up on thoughts as well as communicate her own to others. Though she can only do it if she knows where the target person is, or if she shares a mental connection with them on some degree (an arguable case, though it is suspected to possibly be linked to sharing a mental connection with another Psion, as it would be stronger to tie both ends of telepathy together as opposed to that of only one telepathic end connecting the two, though it has not been proven). She uses this communication to communicate to her comrades indirectly and act as a fly on the wall or as a supporter.

                  A downside to the continuous mental wall she's put up for herself (to keep herself sane) results in her being much more unstable than she puts on or truly believes she is herself. Another Psion with decent telepathy with the knowledge of this could tear the down the wall and make Fayne vulnerable and deranged, but at the same time make them exposed to her cerebral-breaching as it would be fully-unsuppressed.

                  To explain this passive telepathy in an anological sense, it's like saying there is a crack in her mana pool jar where a little mana leaks out all the time, leaving her mana pool never completely full, but never completely empty either (but always at a dormant 40%). She patches this crack up with tape, but she has to constantly keep watching it and replacing the tape in order to make sure it never completely leaks out. If someone were to, let's say, use a rock on the cracked part, despite the tape she's put over it, it will collapse the crack and break the jar, spilling all the contents of her fragile mana pool and leaving her to have to pick up all the pieces and mend it back together. In a literal sense though, this is actually a mental handicap, a legitimate handicap to that of a Psion that can make her erratic if triggered, but luckily not an overpowering one in the sense that changes her personality altogether. Fayne denies this fact also and does so forcefully, but knows it's true either way.

                  - Empathy: In it's most basic form, the ability to feel the emotions and feelings of others. This also comes to Fayne passively, though not to the extremes of her telepathy. Since a lot of non-Psions can feel empathy to some degree, it is about double in Fayne's case, but a lot easier to control. Sometimes her empathic powers do sneak up on her unexpectedly in the form of sudden mood-swings of those mimicking someone nearby, but it doesn't upset Fayne like invasive-thoughts do. Quite often she uses her empathy when she manipulates someone or for just simple conversation (or to avoid conversation). Needless to say it's probably her personal favourite useful-power, and she can ignore it easily with her own emotions overpowering the ones she picks up if she finds that it is getting to annoying.

                  - Telekinesis: This would be her favourite of the three, but unfortunately it happens to be the one edge of the Psionic trinity that she has extreme difficulty with and cannot use as well as she would like. Because she has to constantly keep her passive telepathy and empathy in check due to the handicap, the power she could put out for the practice of telekinesis is drastically reduced. This is because she cannot put her full concentration into it, as well as she was not born with this innate talent directly like that which she has with telepathy and empathy.

                  She can however, move small light objects, but that is about it. A quill, a needle, a pencil, paper, a tissue… all examples of what she has been able to accomplish moving telekinetically without getting a migraine or simply wanting to pass out. Because she cannot put her full potential into telekinesis, you will often find her extremely envious of what other few psions out there who happen to excel in this area, or simply about the talk of telekinesis in general. She will not use the power unless she absolutely has to, and this happens to be with the only weapons she carries, which she rarely uses anyways as she does not like to fight either. Fayne still struggles to improve this skill, but the progress remains minimal at best.

                  PSIONIC (DEFENSIVE)


                  - Mindscream (Resonates a high, sharp-pitched screeching sound into the heads of foes to make them momentarily disabled. Possible side effects: headaches may occur afterwards).

                  - Nerve-Tension (She will either access your mind to severely increase or loosen the connection of the nervous signals to your brain to make your body feel momentarily constricted, tense and sore or make your body limp like a noodle. Effects last for a short time. Possible side effects: Feelings of your body parts falling asleep may occur afterwards. Have fun with that~).

                  - Vertigo (One of her more fun abilities. Causes a foe to stumble as they are overcome with the feeling of Vertigo, obviously. Lasts only a few moments, but gives her comrades a great upper hand. Possible side effects: Nausea)

                  - Paranoia (Will cause an opponents to become afraid, jumpy, and suspicious of every little thing. Though their guard may be up, they feel extremely vulnerable with a severe lack in morale and courage. More of a sadistic favourite of Fayne's, though she doesn't get to use it much. Possible Side effects: Lower morale )


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▬▬▬▬▬ with OR without a SOUL

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              °°°PERSONALITY
                  - Harsh/ Realistic/ Blunt/ Straightforward: Fayne isn't one to sugarcoat things. She'll tell you how things are in the most obvious way possible, whether you like it or not. Beating around the bush is not her thing because it wastes time and is unnecessary, not to mention it's annoying and she most likely knows what you're going to say anyways. Now that we're on the subject, it would probably be wise to not lie to her either because one way or another, she will know. She's also not a good babysitter, so don't leave her with your children lest you want them to learn things they shouldn't know.

                  - Sympathetic/ Apathetic: This may seem a little contradictory, but it still holds true. The sympathy she has but refuses to show or act upon (most of the time) stems from her empathic powers, which is something she cannot fully ignore as much as she would like to. Her apathy stems from her pessimistic view of everything, especially where she doesn't want to stick her nose into the business of others. Words of moral support are not her strong suit, so don't turn to her for counselling because she finds this awkward, uncomfortable and sometimes annoying. One big thing though is that she doesn't know how to comfort others well as she has had little to no experience receiving this from others in her younger years.

                  - Resourceful: Due to her observant nature, she will find anything she can around her to use to her advantage. This trait comes in handy especially when she is trying to find ways to avoid physical aggressive confrontations, or to simply problem solve a daily task without having to go through any extra steps.

                  - Manipulative: Probably one of the most common traits among Psions, especially from telepaths or other common smooth-talkers, Fayne will use her superior know-hows and speechcraft, along with some of her own telepathic and empathic powers to twist and convince others to trick or others to listen to what she has to say whether it may be true or a lie.

                  - Helpful: Not quite in the way a good samaritan would be, Fayne prefers to remain helpful behind the lines and indirectly where others don't always see her perform these "good deeds". Though she usually is apathetic, a lot of her helping comes subconsciously as she does things to simply make things run smoother day by day while trying to encounter as little problems as possible; but at the same time she finds it embarrassing and awkward to receive praise for helpful things she does, so she will usually disappear afterwards and not mention a thing at all. Her helpful nature is also strongly represented in her support and aid which she provides in battle for her comrades who are fighting on the lines as this is the only thing she is especially good at while everyone does all the work. However on rare occasions, most likely for her own sense of satisfaction of still being a 'good' human being, she will do something to help someone else for no reason whatsoever. This will only happen if she likes you of course.

                  - Sly/ Clever/ Witty: This is obvious as her mind is her strongest weapon. Wordplay and thinking around people is her bread and butter, as well as fooling others and staying two steps ahead at all times. She also finds great enjoyment in out-witting other people and exchanging banter between someone else of equal or above average intelligence.

                  - Reserved: Fayne prefers to keep to herself and spend time in solitude in either her bedroom, the courtyard or the library. The quieter it is, the better, and the less stressful it is since she won't be surrounded by multitudes of active minds. She isn't a very open person who feels comfortable sharing things about her life or how she feels, so sometimes trying to get her to tell you things about herself can be a bit of a challenge, that is, unless you manage to get her to warm up to you in some way. Good luck with that.

                  - Pessimistic/ Cynical/ Doubtful: This is about as obvious as saying the sky is blue. Her negative view on life has stemmed from bad experiences and constant disappointments, leaving her to expect the worst of things instead of the better. If she were to give you any advice, she would tell you not to get your hopes up because it would just leave you feeling disappointed in the end. To her, promises and hope is usually just a mask to cover the truth of the matter to make a person feel better about something temporarily. Aside from that, she has yet to experience a time in her life where she would feel genuinely excited or deeply happy about something, so until something like this happens again, she will remain cynical about life and the people in it.

                  - Self-Conscious: She can't help but to be self conscious because of how aware of everything and everyone she is, including herself. She's not a very confident person in reality, so the covering black-garb she wears is meant to keep herself hidden from judging eyes.

                  - Suspicious: If you're new or someone she doesn't know, she is going to automatically distrust you off the bat. She isn't naive like her fellow adept, so until you can prove yourself otherwise, she will remain suspicious of you. Better to be safe than sorry.

                  - Studious: A bookworm at heart, you will either find her studying or reading for many hours of the day. Intelligence is her best asset, and knowledge is her favourite hobby. If there is something she can learn from a book, she will delve into it. Not to mention she does enjoy letting herself disappear into the lovely world of a romance epic from time to time…


              °°°LIKES
                  - Books (She is a studious bookworm, and it's an enjoyable activity to do alone and relax. Not to mention she has a particular fancy for romantic novels).
                  - Wine (Guilty pleasure, but also classy. Another good way to wind down and relax).
                  - Night (The quietest time is her most favourite time. She tends to stay up late to enjoy this time to herself to either continue studying or just relax. Plus, it's the least active time for minds around her to bother her, giving her a break from all the annoying muffled telepathic interference. She will often go for walks late at night as well for some fresh air).
                  - Ravens (Because they're smart enough to pick up a partial psionic reading from. Sometimes you can spot her feeding the birds from outside her bedroom window where she keeps a small place for a feeder as well).
                  - Bothering the Knights (Probably the only thing she shares in common with Oriana. She finds great amusement in being a nuisance and poking fun at the armour-wearers just to see how they will react).

              °°°DISLIKES
                  - Taxidermy Animals (There is just something about them that freak her out and give her an unnerving feeling, as if they are watching her and part of them is still alive. Whether it be leftover mana still escaping from the stuffed corpses or if they actually are still aware via some dark magical means, she just finds them unnatural and disturbing).
                  - Small Talk (Just get to the point, she doesn't like wasting time over pesky things)
                  - Most People (Because she believes they're fake about how they are most of the time and she's just not much of a people person. Plus too many people around cause interference and give her headaches)
                  - Squirrels (They keep eating all the food from her Raven's feeder. Not to mention they're just pests).
                  - Sweet Food (She gets enough of a sugar high from just hanging around Oriana, she doesn't need anymore or she'll get a stomach ache. Plus, Oriana had given her so much in the past that Fayne had grown tired of desserts).
                  - Myrr (Strange as it sounds, she doesn't like it and prefers not to use it unless she has no other option. She still carries around a small bottle, but it's like bad cough medicine to her; it tastes horrible to her, but it works for replenishing her lost mana).
                  - Blonde Jokes (Do I really have to explain?).
                  - Fighting (Probably something that you wouldn't have expected at a first glance, but Fayne will do anything she can to avoid battle as physically possible. Because she hasn't been trained to fight like a warrior or directly against others, she is actually legitimately 'afraid' of getting killed or injured badly, but that does not mean she will not participate and help like how she was trained. Fights always make her nervous and anxious, but she will never admit this to anyone. She will do what she has to to survive, however, so don't mistake this anxiety as a complete weakness... just a slight one will do)


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▬▬▬▬▬ QUIETripples of the PAST

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              °°°HISTORY
                  Fayne had a fairly average past growing up in into her early teens. She lived in Vitascuren with her parents, but had no siblings. Her mother Trisha worked at a tailor's, mending clothing and making garments while her father, Maverick, worked as a stable keeper looking after horses and selling them to the locals. Basically they were the average of the average middle-class citizens doing their part to contribute to society and make a living.

                  Fayne on the other hand didn't have any particular interests. She would help her mother out at the shop and help her father tend to the horses, but neither of them particularly tickled her fancy. She was in a nutshell, quite bored. There were other children around to play with, but she preferred to spend time by herself. It wasn't until she got a little older that she became more fond of literature and wound up reading all the books in her household until she was left with nothing else to entertain her. Given a blank book for her birthday by her mother, Fayne now began to fill it in with her own thoughts and sketches, preserving her memories in a new-found diary.

                  Overtime she did acquire a few friends and began to become acquainted with her neighbours. In her diary she would write about the interesting things about them, the things that make them different, and what she thought about them intrigued her. With both of her parents working all the time, she found herself spending more time outside the household with close-by acquaintances, getting to know them better than her own parents.

                  As she reached the age of 12, she began to notice different things about the people around her. They didn't seem as genuine as they used to be, their body language and facial expressions didn't always connect with their words, and this seemed strange to her. She couldn't help but feel different around these people, watching them smile but instead, she could feel anger, sadness, or even nothing at all from them. Terrible mood-swings came about and most of the time, especially around crowds, and she couldn't even tell how she really felt anymore. Her parents became worried and left her with a nurse from time to time to assess anything that might've been wrong, but she came through perfectly healthy.

                  As these strange happenings began to grow as a couple years passed, she ran into one of her old neighbours who used to babysit her when she was younger. She remembered how she used to get excited every time he came over to look after her while her mother and father worked late nights, and how he would always bring her a little gift every time he visited. Like in the brief past, he gave her another gift upon their meeting, which always used to make her smile, but this time it did not. Out of curiosity, she asked him where he got the gift. It was a small candle in a decorative little swirly metal holder. Naturally he said he bought it, but she swore she heard him say something else. Upon questioning about how he got the candle so late at night when the stores were closed, she knew he was lying. It wasn't purchased, it was stolen. Stolen like every gift he had given her in the past. He was a thief, through and through.

                  Soon things began to fall apart and so did her diary. The pages filled with the good things of the people she knew were now painted over and crossed out, now filled with the raw truths and dark secrets that people hid from each other: The dog breeder two streets down who had the cutest pups actually killed some of his lesser-favourable dogs for meat to the local butcher for a few extra coin, her babysitter was a thief and was now under arrest, the oldest daughter of the nice lady next door was murdered by her drunken father, the florist that moved down from out of town was actually a wanted felon on the run in hiding, her next door neighbour was a gambler and sold away his life for coin he could never have, which was why her closest friend had to move away with her mother, and the list went on.

                  The book which was now a black book of secrets and truths was filled and looked ragged. Fayne became angry and secluded herself away from people, but nothing in the book could compare to the dark secret that was kept from her so close to home. Her father turned out to be an unfaithful b*****d who was having an affair with a barmaid down at the local pub and her mother knew of it and did nothing about it. Fayne couldn't believe her ears and lost it. Resisting screaming out loud, she screamed in her head instead, but it did not fall deaf on passing ears. Everyone within a ten-mile radius soon fell to their knees by the high-pitched shriek of Fayne's telepathic outburst.

                  At the age of 13, her existence as a Psionic Caster was now known to her parents and to an extent to the people around her. She gave the diary to her parents to show them the dirty reality behind the lies of everyone, which in a sense, broke up the family from that day on. The book was now taboo, revealing things it shouldn't and was eventually burned. Afraid of keeping their child who happened to be a Psionic caster with a bountiful knowledge of untold secrets, they thought of the best thing they could do was to send her to the Caster's Guild. Truth was they still cared for her as any parents should, but they didn't know what else they could do for her. In all honesty, they held some fear of her as there could be nothing they could hide from her, and the negative attention they received from their neighbours left a bad taste in their mouth.

                  From then on she went under the instruction and guidance of the Guild and had no choice but to make it her new home. Bitter in resentment to everyone around her, she made the best of it, and found some degree of comfort that she wasn't alone in being born in the magically-enhanced minority. She remained closed-in for a while, but soon grew an attachment to her guild-mates, despite the lack of interest and enthusiasm she showed. She still felt some resentment for her parents for what she believed was abandonment, but at the same time it gave her a chance to start again and be independent. The books and instruction offered by the guild gave her a chance to both sharpen and suppress her powers, to allow her to live a somewhat normal life without the ridicule she felt before.

                  Fayne soon became an asset to the guild as an information gatherer, lie-detector, communicator, recon and an overall supporter. As years went on, her confidence grew enough for her to sneak out on her own for some 'socialization', but this still did not change her cynical opinion about people as a whole. She just wanted an escape from the madhouse she called home, and by the age of 17 on, she had a double-life going on, one for the guild and one for herself.

                  Unexpectedly as time went on, she found herself involved with someone who ran a specialty shop down in the city, visiting him on a frequent basis when she would leave the guild-grounds for her nightly ventures. She never told anyone about this relationship and kept it under the radar where the two of them bonded over their individual prowess, intellectual banters and opinions on the faults of all the people around them. Eventually Fayne was given a special necklace which he crafted for her personally, and the two of them agreed upon becoming engaged.

                  Despite of her knowing that he was an apostate, this did not bother her and she did not tell a soul. Instead she focussed her energy on keeping that aspect of him hidden so the guards would not arrest him and so that no hunters would pursue him. Unfortunately she was unable to help him during one incident where his secret was discovered and brought forth to the guards. Fayne wasn't there for this when it happened due to business back in the guild, and this left her feeling hurt, angry, and regretful. Just when she felt that things might be turning around in a good direction, the pleasant feeling was once again crushed and thus, reverted her back to her bitter state of resentment for the things in her life. The last thing she heard was that he put up a fight before fleeing, and the most that this could prove to her was that he made it out alive… though whether he was still alive today still remains a mystery to her.

                  Now she still lives alongside the guild, doing what she does for them best and has begun training another apprentice under her wing. She still goes through day by day with some degree of heartache and resentment for the guards of the city, but there is nothing she can do about it nor does she have any other place to go. Keeping these secrets hidden, she no longer lets a stranger slip by without judgement and prefers little company while she resides most of her days in her study, the library or the courtyard.


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▬▬▬▬▬ TRUEexperience of the WORLD

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              °°°MISC.
                  Fayne's thoughts on those people she knows:

                  Darius Zoroaster (The Guildmaster) - A.k.a. "Boss man", "GM", "The Old Man" //Like Family//
                  - "I still can't comprehend how the crazy old fart has kept this freak show in order for as long as he has, but apparently whatever he's doing seems to be working. If he isn't spouting nonsense or spinning some sort of ungodly outlandish lightning pinwheel of destruction and merriment, he's striking us over the head and giving us criticism and senile orders.

                  Nevertheless... I suppose the old man did technically raise me, so he does still have my respect in that sense; I'd probably out on the streets, dead or in the asylum if he didn't take me into the Caster's guild at my later age. Not to mention I'm not stupid enough to badmouth a master Elementalist because he'd probably fry my brains out if I did."


                  Oriana Berly (The Naive Adept) - A.k.a. "Sunshine", "Lady Luck", "Little Miss Unicorn" //Like Family//
                  - "That girl is… abnormally special, to state it politely. I'm not sure what sort of sparkly stuff she's made of or what magical world she comes from, but somehow she got accepted into and surpassed most of the other half-bakes in this madhouse thanks to some mystical force of some kind. She's gullible and an airhead to say the least, but I would be lying if I didn't say she was a surprisingly talented alter. Truth be told her choices in transmogrification seem to be that of a six-year-old's, but at least she can actually do them and be convincing about it.

                  I am still convinced that she's survived by this long purely due to dumb luck. I still have a hard time comprehending that that pink-haired ninny is older than I am, but I suppose that things aren't what they seem as I have been mistaken for a man on more than one occasion. Whatever. She still gives me headaches due to her outrageous energy output and eccentric thought processes, but I suppose any 'sibling' would make you feel this way… it's just much more intense when you happen to be a Psion at my calibur."


                  Charlie Atrei (The Dutiful Apprentice) - A.k.a. "Atrei", "Aqua"
                  - Ah yes, the new recruit that has been assigned under my wing. Bit of a strange name for a girl, Charlie, though it doesn't seem like she's too fond of it either. She's quite a spunky one, and I am quite proud to say that I am glad she's not a pushover and is blunt like I am. Though to be quite honest my impression of her was set when she was able to identify me as a woman in this cloak without even batting an eyelid, which I actually find quite flattering… don't tell anyone. I also find it quite funny how she reacts around less-attractive individuals, though she should probably watch her tongue around certain people. Did I ramble? Let's not forget to add that she's the first talented water elementalist that I have had the luxury to work in close quarters with, which has made my days a little more interesting.

                  Amon Raphael (The Arrogant Apprentice) - A.k.a. "Trouser snake"
                  - "What a little prat, I'm relieved that I wasn't paired up with him. At the same time though, I'm probably the only one who can really set him straight. Oriana seems to be oblivious to that little p***k's obvious need of an attitude adjustment, but he's an alright alter, though he tends to like that Naga form way too much. I do however, get a kick out of every time that Oriana one-ups him without realizing it; the look on his face is priceless.. heh-heh. Anyways, he was probably brought up spoiled, which is why he has no regard of respect for his superiors, and quite frankly the little twerp has gotten on my bad side more than once. He's going to get himself into a lot of trouble in the future if he doesn't smarten up soon, and being a ladies man, I KNOW he will regret his actions sooner or later…"

                  Scipio Valerius Lucius (A Knight of Vitascuren) - A.k.a. "Lucy", "Tin Man"
                  - "Our knight in shining armour.. pfft. Yes, he is our 'protector' and I'm glad he is, but I don't always appreciate the constant supervision, so you can't blame me for wanting to pull his strings every so often. Seems he's gotten into the fad of magiteck also, but I suppose after all the messes he's been through it sort of makes sense. I don't really have to much more to say about him, I suppose I'm pretty indifferent about his presence, but I still wouldn't get on his bad side if I were you."

                  Ludger Adlla (The Archduke of Vitascuren) - A.k.a. "Frank", "Frankie", "Duke"
                  - "Ah, the Duke. Our ruler, blah blah. He's all magitecked out as well like some weird mechanical fusion amputee with a golden moustache. He and the GM do lots of talking about old man nonsense, I prefer not to get involved or care what it is about. I don't really know too much about him aside from what everyone else knows, I mean it's not like I've ever had a one-on-one conversation with the geezer… not like it breaks my heart because I haven't either."

                  Lelianna Adlla (The Archduke's Second Heir) - A.k.a. "Adlla", "Lillie", "Short Stuff", "Squirt" //Like Family//
                  - "Ah yes, the Archduke's little girl. She had a bit of an edge on her, a chip on her shoulder of sorts. She was quite a talented caster, but didn't seem to want to be part of the guild at all, though it's not like I could blame her. She always spoke her mind, had a bit of a sharp tongue, and wasn't a pushover... Reminds me of myself. It was unfortunate she had to go because truthfully she was the only student who I really felt any sort of relation to. Whatever plans she has now since she can return to her father's presence is in her hands now, though I wish her the best, I don't blame her for the resentment she has for her old man. Be careful."

                  Amarantha Cailín (The Knight of Whispers) - A.k.a. "Amy"
                  - "I remember when she first joined us.. she was a strange one. Even though she went under our instruction for a while, she still used that sword of hers. I'm not gonna lie, I don't really feel comfortable around those things or anything of the sort. She never really talked much either, except to herself for some reason. She has a lot more going on in her mind than she puts on… I still have some unanswered questions about her, but it isn't a priority of mine. Oh yeah, she's one of those Apostate slayers too, and you don't really see many of those around… guess it's not one of those favourable jobs."

                  Alistair Ciarán (The Renegade Apostate) - A.k.a. "(no nickname)"
                  - "Yeah… I don't really have much to say about him. I'm still pretty suspicious of that man as I know little to nothing about him. We've crossed paths times often enough due to his past presence here at the Guild, but he always gave me a bit of an off vibe. It's too bad though since he is a Psion like me, and to my dismay, a telekinetic like I've always hoped to be… b*****d. Who knows what he's up to now, the traitor ran off with his teacher years ago leaving us in a horrible mess to clean up. I don't take to traitors lightly, and I always feel some sense of threat from him."

                  Dane Blackner (The Adroit Lieutenant) - A.k.a. "Hawkeye", "Stud"
                  - "Well… there aren't a lot of people out there I can really respect, but I suppose he's one of the few. Never witnessed leach magiteck until I saw first hand what his fire arms could do, and I won't lie, I was intrigued. I've never been too fond of magiteck or weapons alike, but I don't mind learning about these new innovations either. Though I don't really have many friends, not like I care, I prefer his company over many others since he is one of the minority who is straightforward and who isn't flat-out stupid. A lot of skill goes into craftsmanship like his and he doesn't seem to mind my… most undesirable qualities. It burdens me to think of where he is now or what he might be doing… he better still be alive or… well, I just don't know what to think anymore."

                  ... Why the hell do I know so many people?



              °°°THEME SONGS


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User ImageOOOOOOOOOOOOOOUser Image

Fayne without her cloak on (disregard the slight difference in hair style and hue).


XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX Ayame Hagakii

Romantic Businesswoman

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XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX████████████████████████████▌ ▌ ▌ ▌ Prof. Lyre , Conner `•.¸¸.•´´¯`••.¸¸.•´´¯`•´
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                                                                                      If absolute power corrupts absolutely, then it is not enough for casters to be virtuous, we must be immune to sin...
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XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXthe activist adept
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▬▬▬▬▬ upon CREATION on this LAND

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              °°°AGE Sixty Four
              °°°HEIGHT Five Foot Eight Inches Tall
              °°°WEIGHT One Hundred Thirty Pounds
              °°°GENDER Male
              °°°SEXUALITY Heterosexual
              °°°CLASS Psion, Guild Instructor

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▬▬▬▬▬ POWER to conquer FATE

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              °°°ARMOR
                  Who brings armor into a class room? Quite inappropriate.

              °°°WEAPONS
                  A sharp tongue for slacking students.

              °°°ABILITIES
                  Telepathy: Conner can read surface thoughts, with time and concentration he can go deeper, but this takes mana he would otherwise want to conserve.

                  Conner can also give people a strong mental 'nudge' towards a course of action, this is typically very simple (get help, drop weapon, apologize, etc.)

                  If someone has weak willpower, Conner can create or erase memories, change impulses such as 'fight or flight' or induce emotional states such as happiness or shame.

                  If Conner is within arms reach, he can overwhelm someone's brain with sensory information, knocking them unconscious.

                  He typically uses these abilities for extreme disciplinary action, such as a student abusing his gifts for personal gain.

                  Telekinesis: Prof. Lyre can mentally move objects, he typically uses this to reach objects on high shelves or quickly clean a classroom of trash. The professor can mentally lift objects as large and heavy as a fully loaded wagon.


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▬▬▬▬▬ with OR without a SOUL

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              °°°PERSONALITY
                  ◦Aloof: Prof. Lyre puts every problem into two categories, big problems and little problems. The vast majority of them go into the latter category.

                  ◦Nurturing: Conner sees every student in the guild as one of his 'kids'. He wants them to grow to be successful, moral, and skilled practitioners in their craft. He'll protect any one of them with everything he has, but when one strays down a dark path, he takes it very personally, seeking to correct any 'shameful' behavior before it becomes a habit.

                  ◦Pious: The professor was never a man for religion before the birth of his first son. After a surviving a difficult delivery, the proud father took up the worship of Amaé as his patron Elemental Deity in thanks.

                  ◦ Morally Rigid: To Conner, the ends never justify the means. He believes that sense casters hold the power to change reality itself, they must be fastidiously moral for the greater good. If a caster uses his gods given gifts for personal gain, Conner will take it upon himself to bring that misguided soul to heel.

                  ◦Haunted: Long years as a royal interrogator still weighs heavily on the psion, he has too much blood on his hands to ever feel clean again.

                  ◦Caster Supremest: Conner has seen the worst in mankind, and believes that only casters can light the way to a brighter future, free from vice and strife. Mundane men who have gone mad at the barest taste of power have ruined the country, now men who have had to bear the awesome responsibility of power sense birth need to step forward for the good of all.

              °°°LIKES
                  ◦The Guild: The Guild is staffed by good people and teaches good students, there's nowhere on earth he'd rather be.
                  ◦Teaching: Conner has been around the block a few times, and loves to impart wisdom on those without, whether they asked for it or not.
                  ◦Books: His favorite pass-time when not teaching.
                  ◦ Tea: Green tea with honey and a biscuit accompanies the professor's every meal if he can help it.
                  ◦Civil Discourse: There's nothing quite as stimulating as a lively debate.
                  ◦Moral People: A kind soul is the greatest treasure on earth.

              °°°DISLIKES
                  ◦Rudeness: There's no excuse for it.
                  ◦ Loud Noises: A pet peeve.
                  ◦ Excuses: A man cant stand before the Six Elements at the end of his days and say virtue was inconvenient.
                  ◦ Lies: A disappointment every time one is uttered.
                  ◦Irredeemably Evil Men: Most people can be shown the error of their ways, a better way to do things, and some sad souls just don't know how to live any other way.
                  ◦Growing Old: Magic helps with the aches and pains, but why does the Guild have to have so many stairs?!


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▬▬▬▬▬ QUIETripples of the PAST

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              °°°HISTORY
                  Conner Lyre was born to a mason and a scullery maid sixty four years ago. Up until the age of seven his life was uneventful, he played with his older sister, who was only two years his senior, and loved to play word games with her whenever he could. His mother smuggled books from the royal library for both her children to read, and encouraged them both to learn all they could, so that they could rise above Shaysaren's slums, where the family lived.

                  The night before Conner's seventh birthday, his sister told him she had a surprise for her younger brother, but it would have to wait until the morning. Conner couldn't sleep, so curious was he of what his older sister's surprise was, was it a book? a toy? something else? He wracked his brain for the answer, he had to know, it was driving him crazy! He looked at his sleeping sister while he struggled for the answers that wouldn't come. Eventually pictures popped into his head, a little boat on a calm river, flying seals that barked bubbles, white shadows manning the oars and tiller of the boat, and his sister in the crow's nest talking to one of the seals.

                  Conner popped one of the seal-bubbles with his finger, and that was all it took to shatter the dream in his sisters head. Cracks splintered out from where the bubble was, like a spider's web, and pieces of the dream fell away bit by bit. Conner's sister fell into pitch blackness as the world fell away, lost in herself. Conner woke up, his sister did not, nor would she for the rest of her all too brief time in the mortal realm. When Conner tearfully told his parents what he had done the next morning, they disowned him and sent him away to the Guild; they called him a witch and a murderer, a vile fratricide that should have died in her place. Conner couldn't argue with them, he felt hollow from the inside out.

                  His first few years in the guild were difficult, although Conner could read, which was a fair sight better than most of the commoners who attended the Guildhall, he had a very hard time complying with the instructors when they asked him to engage in exercises meant to bring out his talents. The wounds were too fresh, his sister's death too traumatizing, he refused to use his abilities and locked himself away in the library to study everything but magic.

                  Two older noble students noticed the younger student's shy refusal to engage in anything magical and made a bet among themselves, fifty crowns to the man who brought him out of his shell. One boy tried to charm Conner into opening up, ever the jovial gentleman, ever the trustworthy soul of kindness, always as much a joker as a friend. Conner warmed to the older boy, but still ardently refused to practice any magic.

                  The second noble was more blunt, offering Conner fifty crowns if he could move a salt shaker with his magic. It wasn't about money to the second boy, it was about winning. Although fifty crowns was more money than most men saw in a lifetime, Conner still reluctantly refused, saying no amount of money was worth the potential harm. Seizing his chance after learning his altruistic motivations, the badgering noble threatened to turn another student's eyes into lead unless Conner stopped him, tying Conner to a chair to ensure the only way to intervene was with magic.

                  With an authority the psion didn't know he possessed, Conner ordered the noble to stop, and surprisingly, he did. He then ordered the older boy to untie him, and yet more astonishingly, the noble complied. Conner realized then the true responsibility of those with magic, to protect those that could not protect themselves. It would be a lesson he would live his life by, up to and including when he graduated at the top of his class. His thesis was on the necessity of morality in the Guild, what that morality was, and why. This thesis was lightly modified by the Guild's administrators, and later became a template for the Guild's own Student Code of Conduct.

                  After graduation, Conner joined the royal guard as an interrogator, and was frequently used by magistrates to determine if a witness was committing perjury. The magistrates grew more and more dependent on Conner, relying on his testimony entirely to determine guilt or innocence. This required Conner to read deeper and deeper into each persons psyche, and each time he learned more about the stories of each person, why they did what they did; but extenuating circumstances never seemed to matter to the magistrates, only guilt or innocence. This put the psion in a dodgy moral position, the guilty were punished and the innocent went free, but not everyone deserved what they received.

                  During this time he met a stenographer and magistrate assistant named Rose, the two bonded, married, and had two sons, both incredibly difficult deliveries. Rose survived, and both of Conner's sons grew up to be accomplished advocates (lawyers). The older son, Don, took a job as a merchant's advocate, trying to keep international trade interests fair. The younger son, Gwyn, became a public defendant, advocating the cases of those who could not afford a more well-paid defense. Conner is extremely proud of both of his sons, his wife is just glad they didn't grow up to be casters themselves, knowing from her husband the stress and strife they must endure.

                  The Shaysaren Rebellion shattered Conner's way of life, surviving rebels and their associates went to the guillotine en mass, sympathizers were considered just as guilty as the rioters by the high-born, and many in the ranks of the nobility abused commoners simply out of spite. With the ensuing chaos surrounding him, Conner couldn't take being around something so brutal, so soulless. He quit his position despite threats of imprisonment by the King's Magistrates, and only intervention by the Guild prevented Conner from being thrown to the guillotine.

                  Gwyn soldiered on trying to save who he could from the chopping block, but all of his clients were considered guilty until proven innocent, and the kangaroo courts that followed embittered the young man. He kept his position as a public defendant, but now understands just how powerless that position is when a noble has a say in the proceedings.

                  The Guild brought the psion back home and gave him a job as an instructor. He chose to teach both a class on caster morality, and basic math and science, for many rituals required a healthy knowledge of both to avoid being 'messy'. Over the years Conner grew comfortable with his position, but he never forgot the lessons he learned during the first rebellion. He does what he can to quell civil unrest within the guild, especially among the students from a common background.

                  Some of said common students have told him of the harsh conditions of their homes, and the professor has written letters to some of the nobility requesting them to show compassion to those that grow their food and tend their lands, but fears his pleas have fallen on deaf ears. Conner has sense decided to take a more active roll in the politics of the realm, how active has yet to be seen...



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▬▬▬▬▬ TRUEexperience of the WORLD

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              °°°MISC.
                  Rose still works as a magistrate's assistant, she is very apolitical by nature but dislikes the violent turn events have taken. Conner has mild arthritis, but magic and herbs help alleviate this.

          °°°THEME SONGS


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XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX SandGriffin

Romantic Businesswoman

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XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX████████████████████████████▌ ▌ ▌ ▌ Lional , Gallin Windro `•.¸¸.•´´¯`••.¸¸.•´´¯`•´
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                                                                                      LET THE DEADMAN FIGHT THIS WAR SO THERE WILL BE NO LOSS OF LIFE.
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XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXdead-man walking
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▬▬▬▬▬ upon CREATION on this LAND

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              °°°AGE 23 and counting
              °°°HEIGHT 6'1
              °°°WEIGHT 178
              °°°GENDER Male
              °°°SEXUALITY Heterosexual
              °°°CLASS Apostate involved with the revolution; Ex-servant

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▬▬▬▬▬ POWER to conquer FATE

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              °°°ARMOR
                  He wears light clothing when resting in safe areas.
                  More often he is wearing layers of clothing and a long coat. All they layers makes it hard to get at his flesh.
                  In big battles he wears chainmail under his coat but it is never visible.

              °°°WEAPONS
                  -Carries a short silver and steel blade.
                  -Another specialized blade that he wear on his knuckles.
                  -A chain with a mini-hourglass at the end. He uses it to strangle his enimies or to make card games more exciting.

              °°°ABILITIES
                  Elemental Magic (Water):
                  Though not formally trained Gallin has gotten quite good at a few tricks and has excellent control. He cannot generate water effectively but has gotten creative with finding his element in common day situations. When he finds his source he uses it to blind, trip, and knock people out. He normally guides water instead of forcing it.

                  During a fight he moves water discreetly into place while people aren’t looking and slips them up. If he needs to be in and out he’ll collect water in his palms and will shoot it into the eyes of the opponent. In extreme situations, when a lot of water is available he will completely hose an opponent down. Doing this leaves him drained so he avoids it at all costs.

                  He has non-battle orientated skills that come in handy in lots of situations. He can purify water to make it drinkable. This same skill has also enabled him to draw oxygen from water, basically allowing him to breathe underwater for a long as he has Mana to sustain the ability. When dealing with water manipulation he can’t force water to move in large amounts but he can get it to flow around him even when the water is moving fast.

                  His Mana pool is standard but he is incredibly conservative with it. He believes in making every ounce count.

                  Inconspicuous- As an ex-servant he has mastered the art of blending into the background.

                  Good actor- He can put on quite a show when he wants to. His poker face has also won him many a card game.

                  Fast reflexes- He sets things up and executes them with lightning speed. The element of surprises makes up for his lack of formal training.

                  Creative with skills- They are limited but he can come up with a dozen ways to use the same trick.

                  Neatness- He always looks his best.

                  Organized- He is one of those people who can keep things in order no matter what is going on outside his life. This skill had made it easy for his fellow revolutionary brethren to recognize his work.

                  Attentive- He learns a lot from just watching.



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▬▬▬▬▬ with OR without a SOUL

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              °°°PERSONALITY
                  Gallin was raised to be a good servant. He was naturally attentive and even tempered which made him a quick study. He didn’t mind his station nor did he feel jealous of the people he served. His free time was spent playing with local children of Fissa or the noble children of the family his family served. He was known for being a peacekeeper in both groups but as often as he would solve problems he’d start them by gentle teasing.

                  He did not stand out much even when he was older. He was an above average servant which meant he was good at getting things done, keeping organized, and staying out of sight without being told. His coworkers liked the soft hearted young man because he was always willing to offer a helping hand. Gallin’s kindness and sense of humor won him the heart of a pretty girl inside the house. The only thing that haunted the young man was guilt over his identity as an apostate.

                  After he was found out he became a shadow of his former self. He was not angry but had finished mourning. He retained his kindness but his sense of humor soured and became darker. He feels detached from the world at large yet desires to fix it via the revolution. He dislikes killing pointlessly and uses nonlethal tactics when they are available. When he does kill it is quick.

              °°°LIKES
                  Water: Reminds him of his ability to control it, thereby giving him a sense of general control and safety
                  Neatness: Again, a sense of order pleases him. It is need in how he leaves a room and how he dresses.
                  Teasing: It’s his favorite pastime. He knows when to stop so it has yet to get him in trouble.
                  Animals (Horses): All animals amuse him. Horses have always been his favorite. He likes their strength and easy going nature. He used to play in the stable often as a child so they also remind him of home.
                  Conversations: Talking with someone can make his day.

              °°°DISLIKES
                  His failure to turn himself in is the one thing he truly hates.
                  Any reminder of his dead flame.
                  Very dry places make his life difficult.


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▬▬▬▬▬ QUIETripples of the PAST

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              °°°HISTORY
                  At first it seemed like fate was kind to little Gallin. He was born into a family that worked as head of staff for a well of noble family. For a time all was well and he grew into a healthy young boy. His parents noticed signs that their son was a little odd in some ways but they wrote it off and carried on with their lives. Until it could not be ignored any longer. His mother was bathing him one day and no matter how much water she poured over his head he would not get wet. She desperately tried to wash him but to no avail. When his father returned to their chambers he found his wife in hysterics. At this point they could no longer deny their son was gifted in magic.

                  The law called for all children with the gift to be sent to the Guild but Gallin was their only son. Secondly, they knew what he he would be taught if he stayed with them. Most importantly, they knew he’d be safe in Fissa and away from conflict that being in the Guild might put him near. After much thought, they solemnly decided to conceal their son’s gift. They impressed upon Gallin how important it was to keep this a secret and that there would be grave consequences if they were found out. Gallin didn’t fully comprehend the gravity of the situation but he wanted to please his parents and agreed to not play with water as he had been doing.

                  He grew up learning how to run a noble’s house from behind the scenes. His father placed him in all sorts of jobs around the house so he would gain first hand experience and respect for the people he worked with. When he was not learning from his father he was with the nobleman’s children, sometime sitting in on their lessons. He was not taught directly but he was able to pick up on reading and writing. Even with so much to take in he was still a child and appreciated a good long romp, whether it was with the nobleman’s children or the local ones. On occasions when no one was around he’d go off on his own and play in the stables. Besides being with the horses he could go up into the loft and practice playing with water. He figured as long as no one was around to see it would do no harm. He kept it on a small scale anyway. He was not brazen enough to outright disrespect his parents' wishes, even in private.

                  Childhood came and went and Gallin became a young man. He was liked by his employer for being thoughtful and unseen, and was loved by the other staff of the house for his kindness and willingness to help out anyone who needed it. On maid took a liking to him and the feelings were reciprocated. They became so close he felt it would be safe to reveal to her his gift. The guilt of keeping it hidden had always bothered him and he could not continue the relationship if it meant lying to her. She was frightened at first but he promised that he would not be caught. Not long after they became engaged.

                  His kindness would eventually lead him to trouble. While he was delivering a letter that had just arrived to the head of the house he passed by his mistress’ bedchamber. The sounds of distress caused him to stop and check out what was going on. One of the two maids fixing a tear in a dress had cut herself and bled on the fabric. Both were petrified of loosing their job. Seeing that they needed assistance, Gallin offered to help them. He asked them to leave the room to fetch him cleaning supplies from the cupboard in the servants’ quarters. Planning to take out the water based stail while they were gone and tell them it had only taken a bit of rubbing to get it out. While they were gone he drew the blood out of the cloth as planned. Little did he know, one of the maids had stayed behind and returned to the room. Witnessing his magic she quickly turned him over to the head of the house.

                  Deemed an apostate, Gallin fled. His parents were taken into custody and once they admitted to knowing he was an Elementalist and telling their captors where he might be they were put to death. Their tipoff led the authorities too the home of his fiancé. By the time he had arrived Gallin was gone, but since she had harbored an apostate his lover was condemned to death like his parents. Gallin returned, unaware that she or his parents had been executed, thinking that his parents would have given up information of his whereabouts and been spared and his fiancé had been left with enough time after helping him to make a run for it herself. The guard was waiting for him and he was forced to use his magic against other humans for the first time.

                  Now murder being added to his growing list offences, Gallin headed out to the lake Fissa is famous for. He filled his pockets with stones and was seen walking into the water and disappearing. Two days later after no signs of Gallin turned up he was presumed dead. He, however, was very much alive. Under extreme pressure he had utilized his powers to their full extent. He was sitting at the bed of the lake, using the rocks to weight him down, moving water around him while drawing air from it. During the dead of night he would surface to find something to eat. Pickings were poor but he survived. After two days he emerged completely exhausted but free from suspicion. He was declared deceased after all. No one was looking for a dead man.

                  With no life to return to, he wandered. When he caught wind of a revolution stirring he felt he was being given an opportunity to do something with himself that would result in good. He joined and has since become an active member of the effort.


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▬▬▬▬▬ TRUEexperience of the WORLD

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              °°°MISC.
                  Where he gets the money for all his nice clothing and equipment is subject to quite some talk among his peers. He never gives a direct answer but he swears he comes by it honestly and he is not one to lie to friends.

                  He has formed a bizarre friendship with Pepper, though the two are total opposites.

                  He has made it clear he is no longer a servant no matter what his habits are, but this does not prevent him from taking orders.

                  He has a reputation for taking on suicide missions or at least offering others a chance to let him go in their stead if they seem reluctant.

                  He still really wants a horse.

              °°°THEME SONGS


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XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX Clock Robber

Romantic Businesswoman

User Image


XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX████████████████████████████▌ ▌ ▌ ▌ Lucius , Scipio Valerius `•.¸¸.•´´¯`••.¸¸.•´´¯`•´
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                                                                                      IF THE PEOPLE RAISE A GREAT HOWL AGAINST MY BARBARITY AND CRUELTY, I WILL ANSWER THAT WAR IS WAR, AND NOT POPULARITY SEEKING.
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XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXthe black knight of vitascuren
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▬▬▬▬▬ upon CREATION on this LAND

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              °°°AGE 40
              °°°HEIGHT 6'-1"
              °°°WEIGHT 200 lbs
              °°°GENDER Male
              °°°SEXUALITY Inactive (sterile)
              °°°CLASS Knight

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▬▬▬▬▬ POWER to conquer FATE

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              °°°ARMOR
                  Lucius wears demon plate armor. The demon possesses the armor in such a way that it has become the armor, and when its form solidifies it replicates fully functional plate armor. Its default color is black and it is technically real steel.

              °°°WEAPONS
                  This knight’s weapons are manifested from his armor. It can be any weapon within a reasonable size and weight limit, because there can only be so much mass allocated towards weaponry and armor. Mid strike Lucius can turn his current weapon into goopy black matter and form it back into another weapon using willpower over the demon.

              °°°ABILITIES
                  Lucius’s only abilities are the attributes and nature of his demon armor. The defaulted plate armor is made up of a demon continually changing its form and properties to fit Lucius’s will. Using an infinite wellspring of mana, the demon will convert its matter from steel to a default malleable black matter and then transmute back into steel, wood or cloth. Depending on the size of transformation, the state in which the armor is malleable, and therefore penetrable by simple means, is anywhere from a half second to a minute. This delay can be shortened if the armor is in contact with mana and or blood.

                  The demon armor itself has psychological influence over its wearer. Voices, nightmares, hallucinations and involuntary muscles spasms plague Lucius while the demon is bound to him. Force of will inhibits these side effects for a short time. Deals, bargains or acts of evil/carnage sate the demons thirst for destruction, mitigating the effects.


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▬▬▬▬▬ with OR without a SOUL

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              °°°PERSONALITY
                  In his heart, Lucius is naturally kind, but his duties have required increasing acts of cruelty to fully punish evil. When good struggles with evil for long enough, good takes on more properties of evil to better defeat it, "Battle not with Monsters lest ye become a Monster". Lucius will defeat evil by any means necessary, even if it compromises his morals.

                  Lucius is your friendly neighborhood knight. He is a naturally kind man of forty years and is very watchful over his charges. Lucius will frequently lend a helping hand to townsfolk, mages and will tutor younger knights. When policing bandits or rowdy townsfolk upsetting the marketplace Lucius is calm and will subdue the culprit without spilling blood. For defeating demons, bandits outside of the city, enemies of the state and extremely dangerous criminals Lucius takes a different approach. For those deemed to dangerous to subdue, the knight will use overwhelming force to slay them mercilessly. These events are used as bargaining chips for his armor to refrain from driving him mad later on. During these events Lucius is cold and unforgiving, thus he prefers to do these bloody combats alone to avoid his reputation from being tarnished.

              °°°LIKES
                   The city of Vitascuren and its people.
                   The shop keepers .
                   The other knights.
                   Slaying evil men without consequence.
                   Fighting on his own.
                   Being appreciated for keeping the peace.

              °°°DISLIKES
                   Not being able to find his enemy.
                   Mages putting themselves at risk.
                   The other knights scrutiny.
                   Politics interfering with keeping the peace.
                   Having the demon armor yell in his mind.
                   Troubling nightmares and hallucinations.


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▬▬▬▬▬ QUIETripples of the PAST

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              °°°HISTORY
                  Lucius is the Caster Guild’s head of security and knight of Vitascuren. Coming from a long lineage of knights, the profession is in Lucius’s blood. This warrior's story really begins at thirty, when he was dispatched with a team of knights to a summoning vault in a rogue apostate held building. A demon had gotten free of its summoning circle of binding and had proceeded to mutilate the apostate's bodies. The demon could not escape the vault but it had to be expelled from the realm regardless. After the team of knights opened the gigantic runed iron doors, they saw a dull red glow all around the room. The scene before them was horrifying; blood seemed to cover every service and ruptured organs lay splattered about, as if their owners had exploded. Petrified black skeletons of a few rogue mages somehow resembled statues as they were frozen in poses of pleading and terror. In the center of a pile of burst bodies seemed to be a cowering young apostate shaking with eyes opened wide in horror. She was babbling nonsense, said one of the knights that came to her aid.

                  Something wasn’t right to Lucius, a rogue mage that young should never have been allowed in a summoning even for chaotic apostate rituals. Rather then warning his fellow knights, he set about getting a torch and jug of oil from a shelf. To this day he doesn't know if he was using his allies as bait subconsciously or was just suffering from combat stress. Alas, the events that Lucius predicted came to pass; the demon showed itself within the girl, mutating and distorting her figure into a slimy black goop before becoming a lithe being of eight feet high with bladed extremities. It quickly dismembered his fellow knights with a wild abandon, they never got a strike in before its sword-like arms cut them down and impaled them to burst their bodies into a shower of blood and gore.

                  While the massacre went on as the seconds rolled by, Lucius felt like a mechanical construct as he flung oil jug and torch at the creature. He was watching himself do these things from afar, his mind kicked himself out of his body and he now watched himself attack the creature. The demon went up in flames like it was made of oil itself, black roiling fire plumed off its now ever changing form as it screeched in agony. The knights out-of-body perception watched as the demon’s smoldering form latched onto his full plate and weapons with its slimy mass. A shadow formed above his astral self and he looked up to see the demon looming over him in this strange perception. The demon was trying to possess him, its form in his mind was colossal. The knight's grip tightened over his blade, a glowing lightning bolt of pure white light covered the metal and Lucius hacked at the creatures Achilles tendon before it buckled in agonizing pain. Lucius threw his summoned weapon of willpower at the fallen demon’s house sized eye and burst its brain as the lightning bolt exploded into thunder. Then Lucius woke up.

                  At first he didn’t know what had happened, but when he looked into the mirror he was quickly reminded. Staring at him instead of his reflection was the demon, hulking and screaming at him, trying to frighten him. The demon swore that even though it was bound to his arms and armor if he was locked away the demon would slip out and devour his previous city. Convinced, Lucius will wear his armor nearly one hundred percent of the time to prevent the demon from having a chance to free itself and run wild. Choking down his fear, the knight mentally caged the demon in the depths of his mind within bars of willpower.

                  Over time the demons abilities to form into any armor or weapon came to be second nature to Lucius as the years rolled by. The warrior never goes to sleep without nightmares and has minor hallucinations on occasion, the demon trying to confuse him into beheading townsfolk that appear to him as bandits. The only reason Lucius has never fallen for such tricks is that the demon is stupid, uncreative, and tries to impersonate villagers the knight has known his whole life. Out on patrol its difficult to discern what is hallucination and what is not but in combat it’s nearly impossible to detect that he might be massacring his own allies. This is why Lucius will typically tell them in a polite manner that he will handle the fight alone, so as not to endanger them. Lucius fears the demon may be able to create more convincing hallucinations as time goes on. Recently Lucius has been defeating uncontrolled demons after a failed summons by rogue apostates and consuming the demons them to sate the demon and prevent further mental abuse.

                  During one of these missions to destroy a apostate coven Lucius was forced by order to bring along a younger knight in training. He figured it was the fact that he was to train a replacement. It led up to a situation mirroring his first encounter with a demon only the apostates had bound theirs to a yew bow. While battling these rogue mages the young knight had lost her weapon and instead tried to use the demon infused bow within the summoning circle. At that point his inner demon laughed at Lucius's realization and said that this particular demon would take the young knights life if ever unbound from the demon. In the end he had mistakingly cursed his favorite pupil with his own fate. As time went he has watched Kanti the young knight but has noticed that she does not wield her new bow often and has little mental damage from it. Recently he has considered if it is finally safe to dispose of his own demon armor but in a strange way he can't live without it.

                  As the rebellion gathers strength, Lucius sees a chance to truly sate the demon within him, at the same time, the rebels were once citizens. Lucius has come to the conclusion that he will only attack hostile rebels if ever ordered to, or if they threaten the lives of others. As of now Lucius has been summoned to the capital for an update on knightly codes and chivalry, and will be handing down new overarching tasks concerning Vitascuren's security. Also he is part of the security for the guild master of the casters guild.


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▬▬▬▬▬ TRUEexperience of the WORLD

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              °°°MISC.
                  The demon has robbed him of any chance of having a family by making him sterile. Love for Lucius is only possible in platonic ways, which he prefers.

              °°°THEME SONGS


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XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX Kroska

Romantic Businesswoman

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XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX████████████████████████████▌ ▌ ▌ ▌ Gallahad , Bastanna Grace `•.¸¸.•´´¯`••.¸¸.•´´¯`•´
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                                                                                      FIRE MAY BE THE MOST BEAUTIFUL OF ELEMENTS. BUT ALSO THE MOST DANGEROUS.
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XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXqueen of avilion
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▬▬▬▬▬ upon CREATION on this LAND

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              °°°AGE Forty and seven years
              °°°HEIGHT 5'5
              °°°WEIGHT 120 lb.
              °°°GENDER Female
              °°°SEXUALITY Heterosexual
              °°°CLASS Royalty

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▬▬▬▬▬ POWER to conquer FATE

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              °°°ARMOR
                  The closet thing she owns to armor is a metal gown.

              °°°WEAPONS
                  She owns a cerimonial dagger carved from unicorn bone. It is antient and has no known magical abilities left.

              °°°ABILITIES
                  She has no formal training in any fighting style.

                  Hosting- She hosts like a champion

                  Soothing- She can be comforting when she wants to be.


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▬▬▬▬▬ with OR without a SOUL

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              °°°PERSONALITY
                  From a young age Bastanna was trained to be proper. Her family, like most other noble families, viewed her as a political pawn to further their status. As long as she kept an outward appearance of a perfect lady they didn’t care what went on in her head. She silently prayed to her patron goddess to give her a purpose in life. After much meditation she felt that she had been put on this earth to protect her kingdom and its society. In her eyes neither is flawed and therefore must be preserved the way they are.

                  She is unkind to people of lower stations that try to move up to or fraternize with the higher class. Otherwise she is indifferent. She frowns upon outward weakness in her fellow noblemen, especially within her family. She is not afraid to aid her king by working around his ‘honor’ but would rather he do it himself. His justice can be his greatest flaw in her eyes. She has tried to raise her son to not share this trait with her husband but as discretely as she can.

              °°°LIKES

                  She was trained for high class events and has ended up feeling very at home during fancy parties or ceremonies. She won't senselessly throw her own but she looks forward to events.
                  Religion is something she finds very important. It keeps people in line for one. For another she is often looked to as an example to the women of the court and kingdom. She enjoys being viewed as a gold standard.
                  Her son is one of the few people she genuinely cares for and trusts. She tries to make his life as pleasant as possible and guide him in the proper direction without being overbearing. He acts as one of her few weaknesses.

              °°°DISLIKES

                  *She hates people of lower classes trying to fight their class. Servants that speak out of tern rarely last long in her service. However if someone behaves as she should she is tolerant if not kindly (though it’s a false kindness).
                  *She hates weakness in those around her. She believes that if someone is unable to do something that must be done because of their moral code that they are weak. She will step up to done what must be done in those cases.
                  *She is not a big fan of magitek. She does not fully understand it and has no plans to try. She says it gives the lower class a false sense of power and should be heavily regulated.


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▬▬▬▬▬ QUIETripples of the PAST

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              °°°HISTORY
                  Shaysaren has been Bastanna’s family’s home for hundreds of years. They are an old noble family that has been close to the throne since the beginning. They are famous for being loyal to crown and helpful towards other noblemen. They have many connections due to their ‘generosity’ and frequently use them. In recent years the family has been getting smaller. Bastanna is the only child of the head of the house. They pushed hard for her to be taken as the king’s wife because of their unstable condition. Selling their connections with her. Since the marriage the last of her house have started to rebuild. When her father died she took up his position and continued his work rejuvenating her house.

                  As a queen with no father to direct her in political conquest she grew into her own, seemingly having her wish granted by the goddess she was named after whom she had been praying since a child. Bastanna had a place she felt she belonged. She did not dislike her husband but was by no means in love with him. She enjoyed his company up until the beginning of the revolution. She has grown sick of his melancholy attitude towards the uprising. She thinks it’s a simple matter of punishing the lowborn. She does not outwardly state this and continues to try and comfort him. During these troubled times she has begun to take matters into her own hands.

                  She may be queen but she is also a mother. When her child was born she refused the help of a wet nurse so she could care for him solely on her own. It took a great deal of coazing before she handed her son over to a well trained staff. As her son grew she whispered to him about the lowborn and his role a prince. She oversaw his education and most other aspects of his life from a young age. Now that he is a young man she has let him of the lead. She will ask things of him but mostly she believes it is her job to listen to her son.

                  As of late she has become more involved with politicking in her husband's name. She used her family’s old tactic of gaining favors though any means.


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▬▬▬▬▬ TRUEexperience of the WORLD

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              °°°MISC.
                  She has been hiding a forbidden interest in one of the king’s guard. She is disgusted with herself and has lapsed into denial.

                  Bastanna occasionally has epileptic fits. She has kept them secret since she was a girl (the only person who knew about it were her parents and they have both passed away) and continues to have them till this day. She thinks the things she sees during these fits are messages from Básteáinne.

              °°°THEME SONGS


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XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX Clock Robber

Romantic Businesswoman

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XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX████████████████████████████▌ ▌ ▌ ▌ VAN DE ROVER , HUGO `•.¸¸.•´´¯`••.¸¸.•´´¯`•´
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                                                                                      IF THERE IS ONE REALM IN WHICH IT IS ESSENTIAL TO BE SUBLIME, IT IS IN WICKEDNESS. YOU SPIT ON A PETTY THIEF, BUT YOU CAN'T DENY A KIND OF RESPECT FOR THE GREAT CRIMINAL.
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XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXthe bandit king
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▬▬▬▬▬ upon CREATION on this LAND

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              °°°AGE One and thirty years
              °°°HEIGHT 190cm (6'3'')
              °°°WEIGHT Thirteen and a half Stone (190lbs)
              °°°GENDER Male
              °°°SEXUALITY Philanderer
              °°°CLASS Brigand

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▬▬▬▬▬ POWER to conquer FATE

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              °°°ARMOR
                  A small motley assortment of armour from numerous regions, most stolen and salvaged;
                  Leather, Canvas, and Steel Jack-of-Plate chest armour
                  Leather and Mail Vambraces attached to Leather Gauntlets
                  Steel Spaulders, each shoulder decoratively styled
                  Lobstered Steel Cuisses protecting each leg
                  A curiously exotic and ornately painted Mask, upon closer inspection, carved from Dragon-Bone

              °°°WEAPONS
                  A Brace of seven or eight Knives of varying craft and length, often used for throwing and constantly replenished by looted bodies
                  A wooden Staff imbued with Magitek (obviously stolen);
                      Hewn from Blackthorne Tree wood, yet is able to withstand even the most vicious sword blows.
                      Upon mental command of the wielder, thick shrouding fog can be summoned and manipulated at will up to a small distance around the Staff
                      With more concentration put forth, the mist can be formed into other mirage-like Illusions, mimicking sights and even sounds to varying extents
                      How difficult an Illusion is to create is reflective of the “Mana Law of Complexity”, and rises with it drastically, with inanimate objects quite easy to mimic, and humans exceedingly difficult to do so with any accuracy
                      “Disguising”, or shrouding an existing object in an Illusion is possible, but with the same aforementioned limitations; attempting to render an Illusion of “Invisibility” appears to be quite impossible to maintain to any true extent
                      No Illusions possess any corporeal proprieties; seems to have virtually no effect on Psionics adept in telepathy.
                      Upon procuring the Staff, Van de Rover reputedly christened it, “Mist-Stick”


              °°°ABILITIES
                  Although never formally trained in any martial skill at all, Van de Rover possesses…
                      A prodigious amount of strength, befitting of his size
                      Tenacious ability as a brawler, using his fists as often as whatever weapon he can find in a fight, as well as an abundance of under-handed tricks
                      A certain lack of finesse to wield a bow with much talent, yet is a proven steady aim with a crossbow and a deadly one with a thrown knife
                  As a Highwayman of notorious repute with over 8 years of experience, Van de Rover possesses…
                      Intimate knowledge of most of the wilderness north of the Darujian Border
                      A seasoned ranger and vagabond’s ability to traverse and survive off of even the most remote and inhospitable regions of the Eastern Expanse
                      A bandit’s talent of stalking unseen in the wilderness he knows so well, in the dark of the night that he prefers to work under
                      Veteran skill as a rider
                  As leader of a Marauding Horde numbering some 400, Van de Rover possesses resourceful (albeit thoroughly unprofessional) ability as a commander
                  As a former Smuggler, Van de Rover possesses weathered cunning in aspects of sailing, especially Blockade Running


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▬▬▬▬▬ with OR without a SOUL

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              °°°PERSONALITY
                  BokkenrijdersBᴏɪsᴛᴇʀᴏᴜs, Rᴏɪsᴛᴇʀɪɴɢ, and Cʜᴀʀɪsᴍᴀᴛɪᴄ Van de Rover has carved his illicit place in the world seemingly from Audacity alone and approaches all things with an air of Lᴜᴅɪᴄ enjoyment. At the same time, however, he is ultimately a law-less man, having lived much of his life with a Bounty on his head. Cᴀʀɴᴀʟ, Bᴇᴢᴏɴɪᴀɴ, and Vɪᴏʟᴇɴᴛ, Hugo maintains the loyalty of the marauders and cutthroats he leads with the victories his madness methods out to, but he has earned it with the strength of his fists, and has remained commander because he yet to lose to any challenger. A man of Pʀɪᴍᴀʟ dispositions, his trade is that of taking what he wants, and has learned to do it well, and to enjoy doing so.
                  BokkenrijdersBʀᴀᴢᴇɴ, Cᴀᴠᴀʟɪᴇʀ, and Fʀᴏᴡᴀʀᴅ, the man with the Aʀʀᴏɢᴀɴᴄᴇ to name himself ᴛʜᴇ Bᴀɴᴅɪᴛ Kɪɴɢ holds the Nobles in Mᴏᴄᴋɪɴɢ contempt, for they see themselves as the ones who Prey upon all, and he sees himself as their Predator. And the King's Justice and the Knights who exact it he hardly thinks any higher of; while they must be pawns to games of Kings and Dukes, he is a ruler in his own right, "the Liege Lord of Midnight, Plunder, and Smoke on the Wind"! A Tʀɪᴄᴋsᴛᴇʀ at the core, he would rarely fight fair, but is too Cᴏᴄᴋsᴜʀᴇ to turn many down, and elicits far too much entertainment from provoking all those who pursue him and -thus far- have failed.

              °°°LIKES

                  ✗ Tʜᴇ Sᴇᴀ ::
                            His First Love, and his first "Sovereign Domain" as a former Smuggler. The coastline is calming to see from the mountain ranges, and he has never forgotten how good an Ocean Breeze feels

                  ✗ Tʜᴇ Cʜᴀsᴇ ::
                            And it hardly matters who is doing the chasing. An Adrenaline Junkie at heart, Van de Rover enjoys the thrill of outrunning and outfoxing pursuing knights and lawmen near as much the raids that instigate them

                  ✗ Gᴏʟᴅ ::
                            It is the Hypnotizing Mineral, the Breaker and Builder of Kingdoms, the True Mana and Myrr, and it is the Supple and Illusive Damsel he chases each night, for he is too lazy to work for a living

                  ✗ Mᴇᴀᴅ ::
                            Nearly goes without saying for such a Hedonist, but Mead especially is by far his favorite drink, with Black Ale following just behind

                  ✗ Aɴᴀᴇɪɴɴ, ᴛʜᴇ Gᴏᴅᴅᴇss ᴏғ Dᴀʀᴋɴᴇss ᴀɴᴅ Cʜᴀᴏs ::
                            His Patron Goddess



              °°°DISLIKES

                  ✗ Rᴜʟᴇ ::
                            He has no personal grudge against the Nobility themselves, only contempt, but for the Law they exact and the Rule they would constrain him with. Though not vehemently Anarchistic, he is Prideful in his lot in life as a Free Outlaw

                  ✗ Gᴜʟɪᴅ Cᴀsᴛᴇʀs ::
                            He respects Magic. In fact, he thoroughly enjoys it. But more than once his band has nearly been done in by an Adept defending the King's Peace that he tries so very hard to disturb, and he is wary of such singular power under the control of such men as the Nobility


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▬▬▬▬▬ QUIETripples of the PAST

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              °°°HISTORY

                  Over bos en struik Years before rebellions in Shaysaren were whispered of in darkened rooms in dark voices, there was a Smuggler from Glaciem.
                  Door de wolken uit A man of humble means yet enough steely Vanaryth impertinence for two moon-cursers, this smuggler spent his days slipping in and out of ports throughout Avilion and Vanaryth with a black Sailing Cutter and a reputation for hardly having one with their navies, driven mad as they were to hear tell of him. This smuggler's clandestine voyages would oft take him to the remote docks of Andrasidan, with Vanarythian climate making a hull packed with produce worth its weight in gold, and Andrasidanian seclusion making a hold filled with weapons and tools worth its weight in produce...
                  Over bos en struik One blackened night, with his witching-hour tasks done for the evening, the smuggler wandered into a drinking hall for a quite pint, and met the acquaintance of a charming and hardly ever quiet barmaid. History claims much of the rest and it was not long before "Black-Rudder" Van de Rover's port-side sweetheart gave him a son, by the name of Hugo.

                  Door de wolken uit As young Hugo grew up, he quickly learned to love the coming of the New Moon best, for with its cover of darkness each month came his father's Cutter, with new goods to contraband and new stories to tell. During these coveted weeks, Hugo's sire taught him all there was to know about getting from one place to another with a deck beneath his feet, horizons before his eyes, and patrol ships on his heels. Moons came and went and it was not long before Van de Rover the Younger began to sail alongside Van de Rover the Elder on illicit adventures, and not very long after that before Hugo was in possession of his own boat painted black from gunwales to rigging.
                  Over bos en struik Years of successful night-time enterprises passed with tales of his very own to tell, and Hugo proved himself an even more daring moon-curser than his father, though perhaps for want of a certain subtlety more prevalent in the occupation. One fateful job was simple enough; the then new and curious product of Myrr was in high demand in less reputable areas of Andravarri, whatever it was the Crafters could want it for. And in return, a generous payload of weaponry bound for mysterious buyers in the capital of Shaysaren, no less. However, it seemed the Duke of Andravarri had tired of Navy ire at the hands of the Black Rudder's Son, and as Hugo was trading liquid Mana for lances and maces, he found his hidden river cove of business surrounded by a sortie of the King's Justice.
                  Door de wolken uit Faced with punishment much worse than a smuggler's-brand on their wrists or an amputated hand, Hugo and his skeleton-crew were also faced with a choice. In the end they opted to fight back with the very weapons they were transporting. Funnily enough, as he fought for his life as a man whose experience in combat was limited to the realms of fists and bars, Hugo began to notice that he was rather good at it; and what's more - that he rather enjoyed it. Succeeding in their fight-for-flight, the smugglers managed to lose the Duke's swords in the coastal foothills, and this time Hugo faced a choice that contained an interesting option. The Black Rudder's Son was a wanted man, that much was certain by the body count with which he had just bought his own survival. But a Bandit...now a Bandit could be Ruler of his own destinies...
                  Over bos en struik Armed to the teeth with contraband tools of war, Hugo led his skeleton-crew inland to trade shipping lanes for caravan routes, and procuring for plundering.

                  Door de wolken uit Hardly a year later, the Shaysaren Rebellion took place. And with it came the hurricane of fear that engulfed the kingdom and the circling vultures that so ritually accustom such fear. As nobles throttled the smallfolk with tightened grips of serfdom, all in the name of keeping intact the King's Peace and their own skins, Hugo and his small band found more and more low-born men willingly surrendering the goods of their liege lords, some even actively seeking to be press-ganged. Before he knew it, Van de Rover the Younger was the scourge of the Andravarrian foothills, with more hands joining his gang every turning of the moon.
                  Over bos en struik His ambition up, and his head reeling with visions of gold, Hugo van de Rover turned his gaze upon the entirety of Avilion herself. Donning a pilfered mask and the ostentatious title of "Bᴀɴᴅɪᴛ Kɪɴɢ", he gathered the condemned, the destitute, and the downright mercenary souls of the kingdom around him; and set the highways ablaze.
                  Door de wolken uit Upon running across the renaissancing revolutionist forces a few months ago, the Bandit King forged something of an alliance with the Leader of the Revolution, using his plundering raiders as flying columns to supplement the swords of the rebellion. A thoroughly manic and unpredictable commander, the name of Bandit King has grown with each season as his band of outlaws do what no one thinks possible, led by a captain who raids with all the daring and spectral cunning of a smuggler.


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▬▬▬▬▬ TRUEexperience of the WORLD

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              °°°MISC.
                  The Bandit King's Brigands possesses multiple Outposts, hidden within forests and mountain ranges throughout his "kingdom". These elusive bases of operation contribute greatly to the gang's reach across so much of Avilion, and their locations are jealously guarded, and furiously sought after.
                  One of the many legends that circulate among the smallfolk is that a curse is placed on traitor members of his gang, with outlaws attempting to sell out their comrades to the Nobility having met gruesome and strangely creative ends.

              °°°THEME SONGS


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XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX CAPTAIN HATOKO

Romantic Businesswoman

User Image


XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX████████████████████████████▌ ▌ ▌ ▌ Ni'vaïr , Arista Yustiel `•.¸¸.•´´¯`••.¸¸.•´´¯`•´
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                                                                                      NEVER INTERRUPT YOUR ENEMY WHEN HE'S DOING SOMETHING STUPID
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XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXThe Leader's Right Hand
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▬▬▬▬▬ upon CREATION on this LAND

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              °°°AGE 24
              °°°HEIGHT 5' 5"
              °°°WEIGHT 115
              °°°GENDER Female
              °°°SEXUALITY Straight
              °°°CLASS Marauder

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▬▬▬▬▬ POWER to conquer FATE

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              °°°ARMOR
                  Generally leathers as she enjoys freedom of movement.

              °°°WEAPONS
                  A pair of magiteck gauntlets, that aren't really a pair. One allows her to form a giant fist capable of breaking defenses from a short distance while the other allows her to create a polearm she can use to attack from a short distance. She also wields an overly large spear when not using her gauntlets, simply because she can.

              °°°ABILITIES
                  Alteration magic is her specialty. She is essentially able to adjust the muscles of her own body enough to allow herself to lift ridiculous weights and proceed to smash all the things around her, should she wish. She's relatively proficient in handling two-handed weapons. Due to her small size, she is also light on her feet and quick, when her muscles and body are not currently altered by magic.


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▬▬▬▬▬ with OR without a SOUL

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              °°°PERSONALITY
                  Arista is incredibly arrogant, however, she rarely expresses her arrogance in a verbal form. The few times she is openly arrogant are generally when she is being particularly violent or when she decides to pick on people. She is rude for the most part and does not understand (nor want to understand) the reasons and rules for manners. Arista is also short tempered, she does not like to be slighted, nor does she appreciate being treated like a frail woman or as a member of the "weaker or emotional gender". She doesn't always think her actions through and when posed with a problem she is more likely to just smash things rather than come up with some intellectual solution. The only time she will respond with intelligence is when it will make someone else's life difficult or if it's faster than just smashing things. She also just prefers to cause destruction because it's fun.

              °°°LIKES
                  - Spleens Kid you not.
                  - Nice clothes She will go to ridiculous lengths to ensure that she has very nice clothing.
                  - Storms Especially if they are sudden.
                  - Making the lives of others difficult - There's a reason one of her descriptive words is "Trolololol" and this is it.
                  - Seashells She collects them. Seriously. If someone were to break one of the shells in her collection, she will proceed to break them.

              °°°DISLIKES
                  - Manners Being rude is easier, she prefers to do things in the easiest way possible.
                  - Hearts They're too tough in her opinion.
                  - Nobility She does not, never has and never will appreciate the treatment she and those like her have received because of their class/occupation.
                  - Repetition She does not like to hear the same thing multiple times in a row. If it has been said once, then she has heard it, she does not want or need to hear it again.
                  - Introductions Arista likes to think everyone should know her already.


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▬▬▬▬▬ QUIETripples of the PAST

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              °°°HISTORY
                  The Ni'vaïr family was one of cattle raisers in a no name little village. Of the five children, Arista was the only girl and while one might think she was pampered by her family because of this, it was not so. She was put to work with the boys as soon as she could walk and work she did, if she wanted to eat. It wasn't easy work, especially for a girl of Arista's size. She was the black sheep of the family, born ridiculously small in comparison to her giant siblings. Her brothers were all big children that grew to huge teenagers and were destined to become giants, her father and mother were much the same, so when Arista popped out less than half the size of her two older brothers, her parents were surprised, but instantly began making plans for their daughter. They wanted to marry her off to someone richer than they or sell her to a brothel, their plans were essentially to use her in order to better their own lifestyle. As a child, Arista knew nothing of her parents plans for her, though she was absolutely certain she would not be raising cattle her whole life. Growing up with her brothers effectively made her "one of the boys" and it didn't take very long for her to decide that she was better than them, she had no reason behind the logic, she just decided she was. Her brothers couldn't say anything unless they wanted to hear a smart remark in return. There was almost never a moment in which she was not making their life more difficult, insulting their intelligence or merely laughing at their attempts to be considered anything more than boys. She would have had them doing her work for her, if she wasn't better at it.

                  From the moment she was born until she was about fourteen years old, nearly grown enough to marry or sell in her parents opinions, her family had been poor. Their home was on the outskirts of the village, out of the way so no one would have to see them and they rarely went into town. This generally created a lack of information on the Ni'vaïr family's part, there was little they knew about the goings on of the nearby cities and villages. So when word came to the village that the surrounding area was being raided by a group of marauders, so when they finally got to their village, while some might have been able to hide or go visit distant family, Arista's family was going about their day as usual. It wasn't until the front door was essentially beaten down that she even noticed something was different. Her father's dead body flew past her head and the girl dropped to the ground to avoid being knocked over. Two men came inside and ignored the child for a moment as they proceeded to rape and kill her mother. While most people would have shivered in fear or cowered, Arista reacted in a much different and more dangerous manner. She was furious that these men had come into her home and done as they pleased. She knew she couldn't just boss them around as she had her brothers, but she was determined to do something. The two men watched in amusement while the small girl ran at them and reached for one's weapon, but neither expected her to effectively wrench it away from the man and lift it before ramming his own spear into his chest.

                  It took her two tries to remove the spear and as the man crumpled to the ground she turned to the other man and aimed the weapon at him, then noticed something small and purplish red stuck on the tip of the spear. She didn't think she had the strength to stab the second man and for some reason, Arista was convinced that the strange thing on top of the spear would keep the spear from breaking the skin so she plucked it off and decided she needed to do something to scare the man off if she couldn't stab him. So, she bit into the strange object and began to chew. It took five seconds for her to realize that it tasted... absolutely delicious. The second man stared in shock until more came (to get some cows more likely than not) and the leader of their group glanced at the girl, still eating the dead man's spleen, and as soon as it was clear that she was not only the one who killed the man, but was eating his body parts, she was pretty much accepted into the group. However, she refused to trust any of the people in the group, except Baldur for some strange reason. Perhaps it was because he was recognized her particular brand of magic before she did, but she was fine with trusting him, for the most part. She threatened to eat everyone else. During the Shaysaren Rebellion she followed Baldur into battle, but eventually got separated. However, she was one of the few to walk away alive and certainly the only to walk away with a full stomach.


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▬▬▬▬▬ TRUEexperience of the WORLD



XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX Akane Yue Valentine

Romantic Businesswoman

User Image


XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX████████████████████████████▌ ▌ ▌ ▌ Atrei , Charlie Xalis `•.¸¸.•´´¯`••.¸¸.•´´¯`•´
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                                                                                      DON'T HATE ME 'CUZ I'M FABULOUS!
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XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXThe Dutiful Apprentice
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▬▬▬▬▬ upon CREATION on this LAND

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              °°°AGE 18
              °°°HEIGHT 5' 7"
              °°°WEIGHT 129
              °°°GENDER Female
              °°°SEXUALITY Straight
              °°°CLASS Caster, Air Elementalist

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▬▬▬▬▬ POWER to conquer FATE

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              °°°ARMOR
                  Generally she wears incredibly light clothing and calls it armor. She prefers to be able to move freely, though she might be convinced to wear something more protective, so long as it's aesthetically pleasing.

              °°°WEAPONS
                  Thin metal wires that extend from intricate braces on her fingers. They are razor sharp and due to her affinity, she can manipulate their direction with magic if she doesn't feel like using her hands.

              °°°ABILITIES
                  She is a gifted Elementalist with an affinity for Air. Her abilities include being able to remain focused on a single task for a long period of time, she is also skilled in drawing as well as fashion design. She makes just about everything she wears and as such is incredibly particular about her clothing.


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▬▬▬▬▬ with OR without a SOUL

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              °°°PERSONALITY
                  While Charlie is dedicated and determined, she is also incredibly narcissistic, blunt and occasionally dishonest. She's a spiteful girl who judges people not on their character, but their appearance. She is almost instantly cruel towards other people and (if she's not put off by the appearance first) she assumes they are morons. Her bad characteristics aside, Charlie can be a relatively nice girl and is kind to those she cares for. She will willingly give advice on clothing and appearance as well as fix up another's clothes, so long as she likes them. She's not short tempered, just judgmental.

              °°°LIKES
                  Clothing - Making it, wearing it, looking at it, doesn't matter. Charlie loves clothes. She designs them and creates them to her liking during her free time and refuses to wear anything that she doesn't think perfect.
                  Heights - She loves high places and can often be found looking at the sky. It would not be odd to find her sitting on the tallest building she can find.
                  Learning - She is dedicated to her studies partially because she enjoys them. Learning is something she considers a gift given to those worthy enough to retain the knowledge. Casters, she believes, are especially bound to retain all knowledge passed on to them for only they can pass it to the next generation of Casters.
                  Beauty - Any and all things beautiful should be handled delicately and with care. Art is something to be respected, loved and treated well. Beauty doesn't last forever and therefore it should be revered while it lasts. This is part of why she is so particular about appearances.
                  Herself - Aside from her name, Charlie thinks of herself highly. She does not accept failure in herself because of the standard she holds herself too.

              °°°DISLIKES
                  Physical Labor - Anything along the lines of heavy lifting or getting dirty she will not do. Charlie is lacking in body strength and more or less cannot lift heavy objects, because she knows she's unable to, she refuses so as not to appear incapable, just bratty.
                  Unattractive Things - Anything that is not aesthetically pleasing in her opinion. If it is not beautiful, it is ugly and therefore worthless. She hates ugly things so much that she will not associate with people she does not find attractive if she can help it.
                  Family - She finds the idea of family infuriating. Since her's abandoned her to the guild simply because they already had a son that could run their small business, she has despised the very idea of family. She cares little for people who talk about family values and looks down on people who do things for their siblings or parents.
                  Stupidity - Especially stupidity in attractive people or the Guild. Her personal views on Caster's causes her to hate stupidity in the Guild. She also finds stupidity to be an intangible form of ugliness and hates to see people who are pretty on the outside be ugly in the mind.
                  Her Name - Charlie hates the fact that she was given a male's name. She prefers to be called by her middle name, Xalis. Her last name is also a subject of hatred, or it was because she was sent to the Caster's Guild and decided to change it to Atrei.


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▬▬▬▬▬ QUIETripples of the PAST

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              °°°HISTORY
                  Charlie's past is relatively boring. She was born into a merchant family in Andrasidan, her family was not poor, nor were they particularly wealthy. Due to their location, they were able to make a slightly better than decent living in dealing with fabrics and clothing, this is one of the two things that Charlie kept with her when she was sent to the guild at the age of twelve. She learned how to sew and create clothing before she learned to read and write, though her family had enough money that she was taught both of those things as well. She began to design her own clothes when she was around seven years old, however, her parents had found one design that was still far in the beginning stages and criticized it harshly, from then on, the young girl began to hide things from her parents. It had been bad enough that most of the children around her age mocked her for having a male's name, but her parents had often complained they did not have a son to carry on the family name or business. A sense of loathing for her parents was born and it grew as she got older. Many of her mother's friends had commented on her appearance, stating rather blandly that she would grow into a beautiful lady, but when her mother wasn't around, the subject quickly changed to how sad it was that such a cute young girl would have to bare a man's name throughout her life. Her parents had wanted a son so badly that when she was born they couldn't even have been bothered to think of a female name for her, they had just slapped on the male name they'd had prepared for the son they'd always wanted. She was eight when she discovered that she had some strange ability over the air around her, but due to her tenuous relationship with her parents, Charlie hid this power. She was afraid they would do nothing but criticize her for being different. She already had a man's name, a Caster's power would just cause her to become even more of an outcast. There was no magic in her family and they gave her a hard enough time as it was, she didn't want to give her parents anything else to hold against her.

                  In the following three years, Charlie began to resent her parents more. Despite her ugly name, she was certain she was beautiful. The children that made fun of her name... she decided they were all just jealous of her appearance, they could not look like her, so they would take anything they felt they could use against her. Well she wouldn't give that to them. Anything the girl found aesthetically unpleasing was thrown out, she refused to wear anything her parents bought, it had to be made especially for her. As she was the only child at this time, her parents did what they needed to do in order to keep her tantrums to a minimum. This didn't last long. At the age of eleven, Charlie was no longer an only child. Her parents began to ignore her for the sake of their new son, who did not have a girl's name, much to Charlie's dismay. She began to wander off, she would leave the house for long hours and sit on the tallest building she could find. She knew she had an affinity with the air, while she had kept her magical talents from her parents. High places were something of a comfort to the girl, they were places where she felt that she belonged. More than once she wished she was a bird, they didn't have to deal with difficult parents; a crying, squealing mess of a little brother; or chiding, vicious children out to take whatever they could.

                  Three weeks after she had turned twelve years old, she had been walking with her family, they were out looking for new baby clothes, since the baby wouldn't throw a tantrum about bought clothing. That was when she saw it, a small bird was falling, it looked like it could have only been a few days old, but all that mattered to Charlie in that moment was that it was a bird and it was falling to its death. This was probably the first time she had ever thought to do something for another without asking for something in return. She ran for it and jumped, catching the bird in her arms, but there was a slight problem. She hadn't jumped just a few inches, or even just a foot in the air, not Charlie had far surpassed the normal height of a jump and had landed with ease. her parents were staring at her in shock for a few moments. It was only a matter of days then... her parents had instantly arranged for their daughter to be sent to the Caster's Guild; why should they spend the money to have her tutored at home? They had an heir, they could be rid of their spoiled daughter, once and for all. The Guild could deal with her tantrums over clothing.

                  Charlie's usual aversion to all things ugly magnified tenfold when she was sent to the Guild. It only made her training as a Caster all the more difficult, not only for herself, but for any and all that were attempting to teach her. Upon her entry to the guild, the moment her name was asked, she refused to let them write down her family name, instead she changed her last name to Atrei and demanded to be called by her middle name, Xalis. Many still call her Charlie and while it's a slightly sore subject for the girl, she has managed to get over it slightly. Her hatred of ugly things however, has not been diminished in the slightest and has caused her to go through more than one master. Her first teacher was an old man who made the mistake of telling her he would supply her with cloth to make her own clothes if she would not wear the ones given to her. She held him to that promise and proceeded to design her own clothing. She's been wearing only clothing that she has designed for herself ever since. However, the man quickly grew weary of his appearance being constantly criticized and had the girl passed on to another master. This happened numerous times until finally Charlie landed herself in Fayne's care. While the woman dressed much more like a man than any other woman Charlie had ever met, something about the way she wore the clothing had screamed woman at her and she instantly identified Fayne as female. Not to mention that while her style of dress might need a little work, Fayne herself was not a hideous mask of a person and Charlie found herself quite capable of dealing with Fayne, even enjoying her presence. The moment she learned her new master was a psion, Charlie decided that if she were going to say something, she might as well say it out loud and promised herself that she would not lie to Fayne, if only because the woman would know instantly and that would be far worse than it coming to light later. This is another reason she is comfortable around the psion, she can be herself with ease
                  .


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▬▬▬▬▬ TRUEexperience of the WORLD

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              °°°MISC.
                  Charlie has kept the bird she saved as a child with her ever since she saved it. The Gyrfalcon had been injured before it had fallen from its nest and she nursed it back to health. Solaris can usually be found either sitting on her shoulder, her arm or flying nearby.

                  She created a special glove so Solaris could seat himself on her arm. She refused to buy one because they were all hideous in her opinion. Since the creation of the first, she has created numerous gloves so that she's never wearing on that doesn't match her outfit.

                  If it was not obvious before, her own experience with her family has convinced her that a family is something someone has only to throw them away later. It will take a great deal to convince her that a family is something special.

              °°°THEME SONGS


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XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX Akane Yue Valentine

Romantic Businesswoman

User Image


XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX████████████████████████████▌ ▌ ▌ ▌ Leannan, Raene `•.¸¸.•´´¯`••.¸¸.•´´¯`•´
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                                                                                      MEMORIES ARE NICE, BUT THAT'S ALL THEY ARE.
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XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXthe noble spy
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▬▬▬▬▬ upon CREATION on this LAND

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              °°°AGE 21
              °°°HEIGHT 5'5"
              °°°WEIGHT 125 lbs
              °°°GENDER Female
              °°°SEXUALITY Straight
              °°°CLASS Of noble descent

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▬▬▬▬▬ POWER to conquer FATE

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              °°°ARMOR
                  She usually wears simple, yet elegant dresses and skirts, but if she has to work in the shop that day, she wears a loose fitting shirt and pants.

              °°°WEAPONS

              °°°ABILITIES
                  Elemental magic: Specifically water. She was trained by Alistair on how to use and access her magic, but from there she had to teach herself. She is considered a water elementalist, but she manipulates the water into ice, so she usually refers to herself as an ice mage. Everyone knows you can't pull water from nothing, so as long as there is water available, she can use it to her advantage. And there is almost always water. There is water in the air that she can use, and bodies of water all around. If she's near the ocean or a lake, or if it may be raining outside, she can use all of that to her advantage. Luckily, water from a person, she wouldn't be able to use because of all the other ingredients of the human body. All in all, humans have too little of an amount of pure water in them.

                  Courtesy: Raised among the nobility, she was taught from a young age how to act like a lady, and how to properly interact with others of high standing. She knows how to completely blend in with the enemies of the rebellion. She knows the proper way to talk, and act. Even the proper way to walk, eat, and dance.

                  Sword training: Alistair also taught her how to use the Rapier and dagger that she has. The rapier is used for piercing through chainmail, and slashing through fabrics and leathers. It is strapped to her waist on her left side, so that she may draw it with her right. Her Dagger is used in case her rapier isn't on her person for whatever reason, or if it gets knocked from her grasp. The dagger is usually concealed underneath her skirts, but if she's wearing breeches it'll be on her waist on the opposite side of the rapier.



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▬▬▬▬▬ with OR without a SOUL

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              °°°PERSONALITY
                  Vengeful: Probably less so, now that she successfully avenged her parents. However, she still has the capability to hold a grudge, and she has the means to act out any vengeance she sees as necessary.

                  Strong Willed: She is a very determined person, especially after she met Alistair. During training he would never take it easy on her, so as a result she aimed to prove to him how serious her talk of revenge really was. No matter what her goal, she always finds a way to accomplish her task.

                  Charming: Despite her hatred towards the nobility for what they did to her family, she kept the lessons her mother and father ingrained into her from her own noble upbringing. She knows how to talk to anyone, be they noble or peasant, and still remain an amiable person. Not many people who aren't close friends of hers know her true personality. That doesn't mean that sometimes, she doesn't forget herself, and lose her temper every now and again though.

                  Optimistic: It might be hard to believe of someone who went through as much as she had, but she still tries her best to see the bright side of things. Even when the loss of her parents was still a fresh wound, she tried her best. And she tried to get Alistair to be more optimistic, although if that ever worked, she never saw it openly.

              °°°LIKES
                  Alistair Ciarán
                  Animals
                  Sparring with Alistair
                  Rain
                  Running the store

              °°°DISLIKES
                  The Nobility
                  Cruelty
                  Training with Alistair
                  Heat
                  Cleaning the store


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▬▬▬▬▬ QUIETripples of the PAST

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              °°°HISTORY
                  Raene was born to a lesser noble family. She was the second child of Zachariah and Elizabeth Leannan. Her brother was five years her senior, and her sister was only three years her junior. She was a middle child, so by all rights she would not inherit unless something were to happen to her brother and he had no children himself. That meant her job was to marry a young man of slightly higher birth, to raise the family standing, and join the two houses together.

                  When Raene was six years old, she was sitting next to a small pond in the backyard with her brother. He must have said something that angered her, although she couldn't recall what it was, because water shot out of the pond, and splashed her brother in the face. It wasn't very harmful, and the splash made them both laugh, forgetting the disagreement. That same day, while Raene was taking a nap, her brother went to tell their parents. The little girl didn't know what casters were, so it took it upon himself. Their parents were surprised, although the were pleasantly so. Unfortunately, the exorbitant price that the Caster's Guild charged for a tutor to be sent to the house, was more than they could handle. And they didn't want to send her to the Guild herself. Not only would she miss the lessons on how to be a proper lady, but she was Elizabeth's first born daughter. She didn't want to lose her. So they made their daughter an apostate.

                  She was bred to be a perfect lady, as was her younger sister. Her brother's betrothal had just been established when it happened. Raene was sleeping, snug and safe in her featherbed, when she heard screaming. She was never really one to sleep too deeply, so she bolted out of bed when she heard it. She had just reached her door, when it opened, revealing her brother standing still in his night clothes. He told her to escape the manor and run, then he left. She assumed that he was going to get their sister, who had always been a bit of a heavy sleeper. Raene grabbed a pair of satin slippers, and a silk cloak before escaping from her window.

                  She never knew how she had managed to climb down that tall tree, but before she knew it, she was out of the higher end of town, down where the middle class lived. She lived on the streets there for two grueling weeks. She let herself be seen by no one, living off what little scraps she could find, and only stealing when she was both desperate and she was completely certain that no one would see her. But there was a point in time when she was certain that she was going to die. She lay among filth in the alley behind someones home delirious from lack of food and water. She was barely aware of being lifted from the ground. When she awoke, she discovered that she was in the house of a man named Alistair Ciarán.

                  As weeks passed, he trained her in both her magical talent and with sword and dagger. His training was harder than anything she had ever done before. At times, she thought that he was really trying to kill her for being a draw on his resources. Needless to say, she learned how to dodge and block really quickly. The same day that she knocked his sword from his hand, he presented her with her own sword and dagger. They still spar as often as possible to keep themselves in practice, but these sessions are more light-hearted than the training had been.

                  Five years she has lived with him now, and she always helps him whenever she can. She supports everything he decides to do, although sometimes only after a heated argument where he has to prove his point. She had very quickly found out what her job was around both the store and his home, but sometimes, she wished that she could do more than watch over his store and clean his home. She wanted to be useful to the rebellion too.


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▬▬▬▬▬ TRUEexperience of the WORLD

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              °°°MISC.
                  She's afraid of heights and she named Alistair's cat Bartholomew.

              °°°THEME SONGS


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XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX Invisible Silver_Wings

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