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Name: Areraj Sapan Bhakti (The first being the village, the second being her father’s name, and the last being her ‘common’ name and meaning devotion)

Age: Nearing her thirties

Residence: Bhakti was born and raised on the Eastern Continent [in a region with similarities to Earth-India] and now lives in housing between Imisus and Shyregoad with her husband, Al.

Appearance: Of mixed race, Bhakti could be most equated to being similar to a combination of African and Indian ethnicities in an Earthen world. Her hair is dark, and loosely curled, and her skin appears a smooth, even tan.

In public, she is always adorned in formalwear and makeup, and it is clear that she takes her appearance seriously. The woman is hardly afraid of utilizing the wealth and freedom that her husband has given her, and has taste in richly colored (but not too bright) garments with a great deal of design and patterning.

She holds herself tall, in a well-trained matter, though with the way she holds her chin, and sometimes forgets to drop her eyes, one might claim her husband lets her more power than he should.

Personality: Raised in the stricter ties of Eastern society, Bhakti has a distinct sense of separation between the tasks of men and the tasks of women and she takes these attributes more than seriously. This is has created a necessary feminine appearance. Bhakti does not wear male garments, nor does she even fancy considering them. In that regard, she also carries herself in the manner a woman should.

It is her firm belief that conversation with those she does not know remains polite, interested, but not overly nosey. Appearance and mentality is everything: men are approached in a respectful manner. Men are listened to above women, men with high position over those, and her father above those, with the husband she will someday marry having the highest authority. Hold back the thoughts on the rebellious woman who wants to marry for love and loathes her family’s restricting culture; Bhakti does not have them. To have an arranged marriage and at least three children with a man of appropriate social bearing is Bhakti’s whole life. She is proud of her culture, and has no rebellious thoughts over the matter. A far worse reality than marrying someone she doesn’t “love” is shaming her family. And, in time, she is quite sure, she will grow to love.

It is this desire to be successful in her ambitions that gives the woman a great deal of self-control. In public, she never loses her temper, and is always there to be spoken to about the simple issues of life. Topics such as sex or the cleanliness of certain individuals are not things that should be mentioned around those that one does not know well. Privately, Bhakti is only slightly more free with herself, and those that are close enough to have her trust find that she has a great deal of opinions.

It is these opinions that are her strongest point of self-expression. Usually, these are centered on trivial things: what garments girls should and should not wear; the linguistic appeal of a poetic piece; why that particular (and recently married) woman is not fitting up to the standards of a wife that Bhakti considers correct. A more Westernized mind may find her thought processes shallow.

Perhaps the trait that deserves the most scrutiny is Bhakti’s unwillingness to bald-facedly lie. For those people she is in close-acquaintance with, she is utmostly honest, taking the time to express herself in the manner she considers the most true. It is in public that she has trouble. Lying - in her mind - is a sin, and she is forced to use the intellectuality of words to bend and shape the truth in the manner she wants it. It is not something she is proud of, but she believes it is necessary to alter the reality of a listener using words, and if there is no other solution, a woman must lie to uphold her personal image and that of her husband.

History: Bhakti's real history, or so she would claim, begins when she was arranged to a wealthy, educated man by the name of Yizhaq.

She has been with him since her 24th year, and they have one son together. There appears to be no kinks or hiccups in their marriage, though the portrayed person is often different from the actuality. The pair work well together, and Bhakti often frequents travelling with Yizhaq especially if business ventures take him from her for months at a time.

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It is important to note the reason she took such time to marry, though it is a less important portion of Bhakti’s history. Two brothers were born before her, each a year apart. When her mother had Bhakti, it was the gender of the baby along with a slight sickness that had come with the baby that made her parents decide to stop having children for a short span of time. Bhakti’s last sibling, and her younger sister, was not born until 14 years later.

With the arrival of a new child, and the oncoming stress of marrying not one, but two sons within a short span of one another, the family was less than concerned with Bhakti’s future. Although she participated a great deal in preparing her brother’s weddings, Bhakti herself did not even have to consider her own lifestyle until much later. At eighteen, when her second brother was having marital issues, Bhakti’s parents grew tired of having a daughter who not only was overly concerned with being not married, but they did not have time to concentrate on given the status of the brother one year older than she.

Between the events of life that Bhakti considers important to herself, the plague took its toll. Bhakti’s father, Sapan, had begun an independent business (and a very successful one, leaving them in very good fortune, but with new money) in the Panymium during this time and was very displeased at having to remain on the continent. It would be naïve to think that the strike of the plague would travel through the continent and somehow miss every member of Bhakti’s family – it did not. To the family’s complete dismay, it was Bhakti’s oldest brother that perished. The pressure now lies on Bhakti to be matched to a suitable man; preferably he will be of Eastern blood and have as much skill in business as Bhakti’s father has proved himself to have.

It should also be of note that Bhakti has received the highest form of education allowed in her location of birth. It is required in her culture that both the man and woman be educated before marriage. She considers herself an intellectual to some degree, and has spent much of her after-teens engaging in the reading and writing of poetry in some of the several languages of the Eastern continent.

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Name: Vethel Aunsbyrn
Age: 18
Intended Faction: Military
Region: Has lived in Helios all her life.
Personality:

Vethel knows no greater happiness than to serve her Emperor. Her adoration stems from her very childhood, when her father told her stories from his youth, of bloody battles for the honor of the Emperor, of the wondrous man Emperor himself was and is, and of the greatest glory she could achieve - serve her Emperor bravely. There are no questions in her mind about political benefit or martial wealth - the only worthy goal is to benefit her Lord in any way possible. This worship is often considered extreme by others, and she is often avoided by those who know her oddity. She welcomes the isolation this imposes with open arms, afraid of becoming attached to someone and then losing them.

All Plagues fascinate Vel, no matter their alignment. To her, they are perfected humans, their abilities proof enough of their superiority to humans. Their connection to the plague does not bother her, as she believes that they can not be blamed for their powers to bring death. How can you blame a snake for being born with venom dripping from its fangs? The sickness of her family was decided by chance, and the Plagues can not be blamed for their deaths. They can, however, be enemies of the Emperor, and her awe will be forced aside by sheer will if need be. Those whose Grimms are servants of the House of Obscuvos are treated with extra suspicion, for they might have seeds of insanity planted in their otherwise pure bodies by the religious fanatics of their faction.

The House of Obscuvos is firmly set as the enemy in Vethel's mind, and she will have a hard time believing or trusting anyone connected with it. Their masks, which twist any face into that of a fearsome monster, as well as their worship of chaos scares Vel, convincing her of their inhumanity, and she would rather die than willingly let the Obscuvians get close to the Emperor.

Her deep rooted suspicion of the House aside, Vel is mostly naive and idealistic in her views of life, not fully grown from a daughter who completely depended on her father, and even now heavily depends on the guidelines of a Guard to help her through life. Her aloofness makes it hard to see her childish nature, but if anyone would break through her self hating, distanced exterior, behind all that armor they would find a slightly shy, but a brave and loyal girl in the body of a woman, who will gladly tell you how wonderful her beloved Emperor is, and how lucky she is to have become a part of the Imperial Guard.

In truth, Vel is lonely in her self imposed isolation, but is too heavily burdened by her scarring past to let go of the shielding remoteness by herself. To forget her worries and her loneliness, Vel trains with her sword and arquebus every day for at least several hours. The body of a solider demands training and preparation for as many situations that one could foresee. Every muscle must be trained to stay strong and ready for action at any and every second. Skill with weaponry must be brushed up regularly, otherwise your body will forget every skill you acquired. A Guard's duty is to be as taunt as a proper bowstring, to protect the Emperor with their life on the line without any hesitation. There will be no excuses for a tragedy that could be prevented by martial skill alone.

In the evenings, after the last of training, Vel likes to quietly knit by the fire. The monotony of weaving the needles around each other reminds her of the repetition of battle practice, and the intricate patterns that break the rows of identical stitches seem like fierce battles that draw out every drop of your imagination to think of the most efficient and creative way to drive your opponent into a dead end, whatever technique you use. While knitting, she goes only by her imagination when choosing what design to pick, and, although the finished results may end up a bit mismatched, the sweaters and socks she chooses to knit are of the highest quality. She will often knit little animals and trinkets for no reason other than to exercise her fingers and to create an outlet for her creativity, so the shelf above her cot is full of plush bears, bunnies, horses, and any cute animal you can imagine.

Appearance:

Vethel stands at 5 feet and 3 inches, rather tall for a woman. Her build is muscular, but not overly bulky, and she retains a rather attractive body structure, even if her straight-as-a-board figure leaves much to be desired. (Not that Vel minds.)Her light blond hair reaches the mid-neck, and forms a neat bob cut, which can be brushed in moments. Her eyes are an ordinary, muddy blue, and her face gives out a slightly childish feel.

History:

Vethel was born a warrior, and was trained as one since she could walk. Her father, William, was an honored Lancepesade, burning to serve the Emperor once more, like he did in his blood boiling youth. He understood that he was too old to serve his master with his own body, and decided to make sure that at least one of his children would bravely serve the Emperor. His son, who was named Edgar, proved to be a reeling disappointment to his father. Edgar, the eldest child by 5 years, was a weak and frail child, afraid to go outside the gates for fear of catching another disease. His mother, Helma, pleaded for her husband to take pity on the child, and accept that he would not succeed his father's legacy. William wasn't blinded by his desire, and, with much anguish, gave up on his firstborn child.

The gods took pity on the hardy veteran, however, and his second child was everything he ever wished for - strong physically, strong willed mentally, and completely entranced by stories of battle, hardship, and glory for the Emperor. There was one small complication, sadly. The child was female, and most women grew up to be weaker then men. The father refused to give up against all the odds, however, too close to his life long dream to give it up. Little Vethel took to the training of a soldier like a duck to water, and soon no one was able to even hint at her being someone else other than a warrior - she was a true Valkyrie, skilled in the art of swordsmanship and a superb marksman, hitting a target at 30 meters nine times out of ten. While not excelling in anything else, William taught Vethel the basics of diplomacy, strategy and tactics, and by the time the female warrior hit eighteen, she had become her father's, as well as her family's, dream come true, a fervent, ever loyal and capable servant to the Emperor to lay at his feet, regardless whether William himself was mentioned.

Tragedy struck when Vethel's paternal grandmother, Valyrie Aunsbyrn, came down with an illness. She was a strong and willful woman, and most believed that her son came to inherit his strength of character from her, if not her views. The son and mother often argued, and their clash of interests was at its worst when concerning Vethel. Her grandmother was completely opposed to the idea of raising her granddaughter to become a Guard, considering the military an inappropriate place for any female, and urged her son to let her take over Vethel's upbringing. William stubbornly refused, as he could see that his daughter was born to become a warrior. Their conflict grew so heated that, by the time Vethel turned sixteen, they refused to see each other. Vethel was allowed to come visit Valyrie, however, and the bond between grandparent and grandchild grew strong.

When Vethel usually came to visit her her grandmother in Shyregoed, she would come with her mother, who shared Valrie's views on Vethel's upbringing and had a warm relationship with her mother-in-law. This time was different, as Edgar had come down with a cold, and Helma could not leave his side, for fear his frail body would break down completely. So Vethel set off to Colwe on her own, to take care of her sick grandmother.

The visit lasted several weeks, as Vethel stayed until Valyrie had completely recovered and in full health, and was then convinced by Valyrie to stay for a while longer, resulting in days of absence. The journey back was seemingly short and unimportant, as Vel was full of impatience to see her beloved family again. She was completely unprepared for the sight that greeted her.

The windows, shattered. The rooms, once filled with gentle light, now dark and ransacked. And, worst of all, the door, stained with a terrifying mark. What had once been Vethel's only home and shelter, had turned into a shadow, a hollow remain of it's lost splendor.

Vethel stood on her knees for what seemed an eternity, looking at the truth and refusing to accept it. How could she? Her caring, ever helpful mother, who would calm any fears or worries with a warm embrace. Her gentle brother, who could cheer her up with just a smile. Her stern but loving father, who provided her with guidance and care. Dead. Gone.

In her reverie, Vethel didn't notice the neighbor's wife come up to her, sobbing quietly. The two neighboring families were very friendly with one another, often helping each other out in times of need. "I'm so sorry, dear. It was so sudden. Edgar had just gotten better from his cold, and decided to sit outside, just for bit, to look at the sky. Who knew that a dead crow would be rotting nearby... The poor thing didn't last a week. Your parents stayed by his side till the very end, they did, even when their own arms started blackening," The wife had to stop for a minute to dry her tears before continuing. Vethel just nodded slowly, dully accepting the neighbor's words. She felt like there was a hole inside of her, in place of where her heart had been. "But your father, WIlliam, he was the last to get caught by the disease. Always a strong one, he was. He came to our door one night, and he left this. Said to give it to you, when you came back and saw..." She couldn't finish the sentence, and broke down in tears. With a trembling hand she held out a worn leather-bound satchel.

Vethel recognized that satchel. Her father had gifted it to her on her seventeenth birthday, and it quickly became Vethel's favorite accessory - it was large, accommodating, and very useful, as it was resistant to water, and could be used to carry almost anything you wished. To Vethel, who had just lost everything, it seemed like the satchel was the last thing that connected her to her lost family. She opened up the clasp slowly, carefully, as if afraid that it might leap out of her arms and disappear if she moved too quickly. In the dim light of the street she could just make out a white sheet a paper, and on it, in her father's firm handwriting, were two simple words:"Good luck,"

But a wish of goodwill was not all the satchel contained. When Vethel lovingly picked up the note, a sob finally built up in her throat. The colors of the Emperial Guard shone softly in the dim light, seemingly chasing the shadows away. And that's when Vethel finally wept.

Name: Annantha Greyce Chandle
Age: 16
Residence: Gadu, Imisus

Appearance: By no means is Annantha a stunning beauty. She is relatively short, standing in at slightly over five feet with some remaining child plumpness to her figure. Her skin is slightly tanned from working outdoors, and she has a scattering of freckles across her nose and on the back of her neck and shoulders. Her face is rather round, with a small chin, a small upturned nose, and large brown eyes. All of this is framed by her most noticeable feature, the veritable mane of thick, curly auburn hair that seems to float around her head and shoulders like a cloud.
Her clothes are serviceable and plain, though in bright and eye-catching colors. She favors full skirts along with a short sleeved blouse and a vest. She is often seen wearing a pocketed apron over her skirt, the pockets bulging with small knick-knacks and tools useful for when she is working in the store.

Personality: Annantha is not timid, that is certainly the first thing that people notice about her. She is not afraid to speak her mind and interject in conversations with sarcastic comments. Most of the time, especially around her friends, she tries to come off as a worldly person who knows everything there is to know about anything, and can at least convince them of it by interspersing small tidbits of facts she overhears from customers. Though she can convince her friends of her knowledge, older folks would be able to more clearly see through that façade and see the idealist underneath.

She had been raised on stories of the valiant knight in shining armor saving the damsel in distress, and really all she wants is that fairy tale romance. She constantly daydreams about being swept off of her feet by some dashing young man, off to take her to be his princess or something. The fact that this hasn’t happened and her parents won’t let her go out and flirt shamelessly with the boys in town puts her in something of a bad mood whenever she thinks about the sheer injustice of it.

On the subject of her temper, she has one. A big one. It is not a rare thing for her to be happy and laughing one moment to huffing and stomping off the next. She has slowly begun trying to control it a bit better, but it’s not working very well, especially when it comes to her younger brother.
In general, though, she is an overall happy young woman who, despite her endless supply of complaints and griping, is enjoying her life and strives to get as much out of it as she can while she has the chance.

History: Her father was a candle maker. His father before him was a candle maker. And his father before him was a candlemaker.

Suffice it to say, Annantha comes from a long line of candle makers.

Even if she is stuck in the family trade, though, she will not be left to start everything from scratch. For when she comes of an age when she will be able to take over the business she will not only take over the keys to the store, but the other two things that make their business such a success. The first is an old leatherbound journal stuffed full of recipes for candles, from simply how to make them or how to achieve certain colors, to recipes for different scents, many of which are said to have medicinal properties. The second is a small plot of land outside of town, which does not seem like much at first. From the road all that can be seen is a tiny one-room house located in the middle of a field of overgrown wildflowers. But behind the house and hidden amongst the tall grasses are rows of beehives which supply the wax for the candles as well as honey, which provides additional income.

Though her family is neither rich or influential enough to be noticed in social circles, they at least have gained enough attention for the quality of their wares. The various scents and designs of their candles have granted them patronage from several wealthy families and businesses, some of which have been buying from them for decades.

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Name: Ainsley Redwynne; Redwood Bearslayer, Eyas of Ventus
Age: 19
Residence: Ventus, Helios
Rank: Private; Calvalry

Appearance: Ainsley is a pixie-like, callous-fingered girl with clothing tattered by adventure. She doesn’t care too much about her appearance when she’s out of her Guard uniform, and shares more of a physical likeness to her father than she does to her mother. She has her father’s pale-blonde hair, but has inherited her mother’s curls and golden eyes. She’s not tall enough to intimidate many, but her blade and tongue compensate where her physiognomy doesn’t. [IMG]

Personality:
As much as Judgement Redwynne would like to disagree, he admits that Ainsley shares many of her father’s traits. She doesn’t think about the future much, and instead focuses more on current issues; she feels that the present is easier to control. A solipsist at heart, Ainsley thinks about situations and people in relationship to herself. She approaches problem solving in the same way, mostly because she thinks that the answers to life problems will reveal themselves at the right moment. This makes Ainsley an unpopular advice giver among the Ventus villagers, but Ainsley nonetheless tries to help whoever she can. She has a juvenile sense of justice, but also has a mature and sincere desire to help others. Trusting people comes easily to Ainsley, especially if she’s known them for most of her life. She doesn’t think that people would want to intentionally hurt her since she perceives herself as a genuinely amiable person. While this makes her highly gullible, if betrayed, makes her an unyielding grudge-holder. Forming relationships are just as serious to Ainsley as the desecrating of them.

Bold and impudent, Ainsley starkly contrasts father. Easily excitable and quick to be stubborn, Ainsley harbors both a challenging personality and a need for constant activity. Surprisingly enough, she endures routine with little complaint and can follow orders well. This isn’t to say that she’s easy to dominate, but that she’s at the age where she’s trying to find her role in society. Being given instruction is, counter-intuitively, relieving to her, since it means that there’s a goal to aspire for that she didn’t need to “set up” on her own. She has her own opinions, but being a rebel, to Ainsley, depends on what the situation calls for. She isn’t stubborn in the sense that she’s adamant on acting on her own opinions but that she’s a firm believer of them. As the only daughter of a guardsman, following militant orders makes her an unlikely candidate for rebelliousness. She respects authority figures, and is usually hesitant about disobeying them.

How she was raised decided much of her personal makeup. From a young age, Ainsley already knew that she was more likely to join the Guard than the Fellowship, mostly because her father’s presence was greater than her mother’s, but because she’s known very little of Panymium outside of her family and region, her understanding of “adventure” is synonymous to “joining the Imperial Guard”. The Imperial Guard has always been prominent in Ainsley’s life, and she was raised with her father’s bias in supporting them. She fancies the idea of protecting Panymium, even if it means losing much of her autonomy. Truthfully, Ainsley fears independence since she isn’t sure that she’d be good at acting on her own. She hasn’t formed many ideals outside of her family’s, and while she’d like to climb guard ranks, she doesn’t know how to do it. Much of Ainsley’s insecurities are masked by her impetuous boldness, or so she’d like to think.

Ainsley's uncertainties about herself doesn't strongly influence how her community receives her. Ainsley is well-liked among the townspeople, and has a strong sense of community. She cares deeply about each member, and acts as their second overseer in juxtaposition to her father. It’s not so much that Ainsley’s protective of those she’s familiar with but that she likes to know that they aren’t in trouble. Protecting people is a concept that Ainsley fancies but isn’t confident with doing well. She accredits most of her martial victories to luck, and is afraid of seeing them as anything transcending that. Having expectations placed upon her scares her more than anything, so while standing out has always been a priority in some way, it’s also a challenge that Ainsley repeatedly suffers.

History:
The Redwynne family’s policy of “family before faction” makes the Imperial Guard’s Hawk of Ventus and the Fellowship’s alchemist Ivylyn’s relationship durable. Ainsley Redwynne was born to Judgement and Ivylyn Redwynne under the Capricorn constellation. True to her starsign, Ainsley grew up being capricious with her likes and dislikes, and never truly grew out of her juvenile spirit. Her mother was pleasantly absent from much of her life due to Fellowship duties, but Ainsley’s interests were never affiliated with her mother’s. Ainsley didn’t feel that magic inspired her to achieve greatness. The Imperial Guard, however, was magic to Ainsley. The guardsmen were protectors of Panymium and instruments of the Emperor, and nothing seemed to be able to outshine them. It wasn’t simply the uniform or the unique uniform ties--it was the intensity and confidence that the guardsmen’s demeanors emitted. As someone who’d never truly known her place, Ainsley was very impressed and fancied the faction. Childhood within Ventus walls exposed Ainsley to a highly saturated guardsman lifestyle. She was nicknamed the “Eyas of Ventus” when she finally learned to walk and was able to stumble after her father around the guardsman headquarters, where it was safe for her to. Judgement Redwynne’s reputation as the overseer or “Hawk of Ventus” made him a respectable figure within the Helios community, but even then, his daughter had a more difficult time proving herself. Being well-received on a personal level didn’t make Ainsley well-received on a competence level. Her fun-loving spirit made it hard to convince others that she could take matters seriously, and while Ainsley loved helping others, she always noticed through subtle hints that she was not very good at aid. Her most memorable accidents are accidentally setting the Ventus smithery on fire and losing a shepherd's one-hundred sheep flock.

Growing up had massaged much of Ainsley’s foolhardiness and foolishness, but her father found this hard to believe. He had never permitted Ainsley to venture outside the Ventus walls, and thusly, she didn’t see much of her mother until she formally became a guardswoman. Ventus itself is a large city, but Ainsley had alway felt that her problems were bigger.Truthfully, Ainsley never cared much about the possibilities outside; she was preoccupied enough with struggling to make herself a name from inside Ventus’s walls. Her father’s name was stupendous, and hers....unimportant. The Hawk of Ventus’s (traditionalist) opinions always mattered over hers on a military and domestic scale, and thusly, Ainsley never challenged him to change his policies. She got along well with her father, and mutually felt that his parental doctrines were as effective as they were beneficial towards her growth. Judgement Redwynne’s decision to subtly confine his daughter kept her from understanding the gravity of the black plague. For most of Ainsley’s life, death was a morose concept, but nothing that the plague was seriously responsible for. This isn't to say that she wasn't aware of its ruinous effects, but that by choice, Ainsley decided to place the plague as one of her lesser concerns. Judgement Redwynne supported this view, and discouraged Ainsley from thinking too much about death, because it only bred fear and doubt in the heart of a young guardsman. People died every day, and those numbers only increased during wartime periods, and to the Redwynnes, falling victim to the plague was simply "another way to die". Aside from the black plague, Ainsley knew very little of what was outside of Ventus, and what she knew came from snippets within. Her father shared little of Panymium’s politics with her, not because he didn’t want to educate her, but because he knew that it was better if she came to learn them on her own, as he did with his father. He raised her with the principle to “see people first before seeing their affiliations”, because bias, to Judgement Redwynne, is both a curse and a blessing--and he’d prefer Ainsley to treat it with delicacy.

Ainsley’s eighteenth birthday was a glorious development for her, not only because she’d become a young woman, but because her coming-of-age hunting trip reaped better results than she’d have imagined. She had ventured into Mishkan’s esteemed, redwood forest with several guardsmen friends knowing full well of the bear population living within, and lo, the company was attacked by a large, black bear, and Ainsley had been fortunate enough to deal its death. The feat sounded more impressive than it actually was, for the bear was rather pathetic, and Ainsley’s spear rather long. Yet, the tale became legend, Ainsley’s spear became twin daggers, the bear became the size of a mountain, and the number of bears rose from not one but five bears--and ultimately, Ainsley became renowned as the “Redwood Bearslayer”. While Ventus’s community was still hesitant to trust responsibilities with her, their levels of respect for her did rise, even if by a little. Judgement acknowledged Ainsley’s bearslaying as her ability to kill, and finally allowed her enlistment despite that she’d be strictly stationed within the boundaries of Helios and Mishkan. It was rare for guardsmen to be permanently stationed because it hindered their mobility, but in Ainsley’s case, the Ventus folk understood.

The bearslayer was constantly castigated by her father during physical training, and often, she wondered if being born to a different man would dramatically change her situation. She was assigned as a Ventus calvarywoman, and adopted a more bold, straightforward persona. She was physically smaller than her companions, and could not fight well on a mount. Truthfully, she was more fit for infantry due to her close-combat dexterity, but her father feared for her safety, and thusly kept her attached to a horse. Despite that the calvary was hard effort, it gave Ainsley access to see more of her mother, who was stationed in the Ironvale fellowship headquarters. The two resumed a mutual, detached relationship that consisted mostly of Ivylyn giving her daughter herbs to “mature into a beautiful young woman”, and Ainsley finds this extremely humorous. Yet, what charmed Ainsley the most was her chance encounter “Alphonse Culdrick”, a scientist, who was, in actuality, the cultist Dorian Arelgren. Dorian and Ainsley quickly became friends, Dorian appreciating her undying spirit, and Ainsley, his exotic nature.

The Arelgren scion’s ideals appealed to both Ainsley and Judgement well, and his companionship, if anything, helped Ainsley mature a good deal and opened up many opportunities for her future. Dorian convinced Judgement to allow Ainsley more autonomy in where she wanted to be stationed, and as a result, she assumed the additional role of being her father’s map and statistics deliverer within the guard. She accompanied Dorian on his own, cultist quest, but eventually split apart from him when she realized that she, like him, was free to pursue her own goals beyond the confines of serving the Emperor. Judgement Redwynne had always given the impression to his daughter that fearing the future was a foolish mindset, but spending time with Dorian allowed Ainsley the insight that being afraid of the unknown is natural, but being brave enough to overcome it is what makes goals achievable.

Currently, Ainsley plans to return to Helios to request an assignment change from calvary to infantry. She feels that she’d be able to excel where her physical traits give her merit--and she knows that by joining the infantry, she’d be making the first step in finding her true purpose.

Featured solos: I. II. III. IV. V. VI. VII. VIII. IX. X.

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Name: Sir Clement Delacroix
Age: 27
Residence: Aureola, Helios (formerly Shyregoed)

Appearance: A somewhat short and slender man with dark reddish brown hair and a physically unremarkable face. Muddy hazel eyes, a long, thin nose, and thin, pursing lips with a rather strong jaw. None of his features are particularly pleasant or ugly on their own, rather, his is the sort of countenance that is completely dictated by his personality, and whether he appears to be handsome or homely to any one person in particular depends on how much they like that personality. He doesn't always dress well, but always dresses for the occasion. If needed, he can dress to the nines and he's up to date with court styles- even his most casual work clothes have a modern cut to them. However, his clothes are all in unfashionably dark and somber colours, giving him a reputation for being a bit of an odd bird anyway.

Personality: Quiet and dour, Clement seems far more suited to his hereditary role as a local knight than to the politics of court and empire. His manners are rural and outdated, his wardrobe dark and somber, and his tone curt and blunt. For every friend he makes, he has two enemies, and it's more than middling easy to take him at face value for simple conservative country gentry. What gives him his political edge is a quiet canny. For all his outdated mannerisms, he is no sleepy landlord trying his hand at a political milieu to which he is not suited. Underneath that simple exterior is a survivor who, from a boy was thrust into a trial by fire and is well used to the ins and outs of life within a royal court.

For all this, Clement is canny enough to know that his own personality and style are at odds with what might be expected from a court politician, and yet he chooses to compensate for his deficiencies rather than make great efforts to change them. This stems from a general disdain for the attitudes of court politicians, having grown up as a country lord's heir in an environment where his kind were often looked down upon for their rural mannerisms, and could even be cheated out of their inheritance by those charged with their care. He clings to his own habits out of both an obstinate streak and a vague sense of class loyalty. This obstinacy runs in everything he does and is one of the things that allows him a measure of political success regardless, once Clement has chosen a course of action, he does not let go easily, and will doggedly pursue his goals until they are reached. This is how he gained his first political position, and has defined his career since. As a member of public office, Clement is abysmal, but as an administrator, he is ruthlessly efficient, both at processing information and applying it to the course of action that the situation requires to be taken. Thus, even amongst his enemies, he has garnered a certain amount of begrudging respect; he is a nuisance, but an utterly steadfast nuisance.

Clement takes a certain degree of pleasure in his perversity, and it is reflected in those outward features that he will not change for fashion or favour. He always dresses somberly to match his serious nature, even in Helios, where white is favoured, and though he adjusts the cut of his clothing as a concession to style, he never wears anything too elaborate. He feels uncomfortable in terribly courtly clothing, and while his guardian insisted upon it at times during his minority, now that he dictates his own style, he pays little service to the whims of the court. Ironically, this makes him stand out about as much as the dandies at any function he's present at, something which he doesn't particularly mind despite what his grim and serious mannerisms might suggest. The only time Clement concedes to fashion is when he absolutely must blend in, such as when he has a diplomatic task that must be fulfilled with discretion, and even then he prefers to work behind the scenes in clothes and conduct that he feels at home with rather than to play-act as a courtly noble lord.

Clement is not unambitious, and believes that he can accomplish far more by working behind the political scenes than by having to constantly be at the beck and call of public favour. While unable to charm his acquaintances, he is no stranger to hard work, and is possessed of a highly analytical turn of mind. He has no qualms searching through the papers of his superiors and studying the subjects relevant to what he needs to discover as he goes. He learned land law to better search through the papers of his guardian in his youth so that he could assure himself that his lands were not being stolen. Now that he is older, he has finessed his ability to absorb large quantities of information in order to efficiently sift through what papers he has access to, and his wide grasp of esoteric legal knowledge stems not from a lengthy formal education, but from an exhaustive self-education through necessity. Clement has an all-consuming interest in anything which is useful to him, whether educating himself or learning from others. He is also fiercely determined not to rely too heavily on any one source, as he fears being betrayed, and never wants to let it slip that he might not know something if he can help it. While it might be possible to catch him off guard about a subject once, the next time it comes up in conversation, he will likely have exhaustively researched it and be able to hold his own against you in conversation.

This defensiveness applies to everybody, even his immediate superiors. While Clement will be unwaveringly loyal to whoever he ties his fortunes to even if they are simple, he does not take kindly to being deceived. Searching through papers is still a common activity for him, not as a spy selling information, but as a dutiful underling ensuring that his loyalty is deserved. He feels no guilt about doing so, even if nothing is turned up regarding himself, knowing all which goes on with his employers can only help him in executing their business, and he is discreet in the extreme. However, his natural suspicion often interferes with his personal relationships, as he does not have that kind of assurance of his friends' loyalty. He has a deep aversion to flittish and giddy people, as their actions tend to be too unreliable for him to predict their sincerity because of this.

His hatred of unpredictability is tied to his sense of duty. He still blames himself for his disobedience as a child that allowed plague to break out within his own lands. He has a strong sense of obligation that he labours under no matter how much it may inconvenience him, and he expects others to do the right thing at all cost as well. This sense of duty makes him into a highly valuable ally for whoever would claim him, and a staunch friend to those who do not mind his abrasive and grim personality. Though he may not show it with enthusiasm, he is deeply protective of those he cares about, and constantly mindful of their safety, having lost both his parents and many of his friends and mentors in his youth. Though not loquacious, he keeps in touch with everyone who is dear to him in one way or another, even if just with curt letters once a month or so.

History: The firstborn son of Sir Richard and Lady Melusine Delacroix, minor nobility with a small fief in southeastern Shyregoed, Clement was raised as any local lord's son would be, to deal with local matters of governance and land management, and to train in knightly arts in preparation for military service. His family was young and not large, thus his only sibling was a sister a few years younger than him, who fell ill when traders from Mishkan brought some bad rye that caused a brief influx of ergotism in the area. Sir Richard was able to slow the disease before it became a localised epidemic by isolating everyone who fell ill with it, including Clement's own sister. Though his sister eventually recovered and the enforced isolation ended with relatively few dead, Clement became overprotective of her thenceforth, and felt that his father had betrayed her by forcing her into isolation. Years later, upon discovering that his uncle had contracted the Plague, Clement made effort to disguise it from his father as long as possible in hopes that the uncle might recover, or at least be able to die in the company of kin, but in doing so, encouraged an outbreak of plague that attacked at the head of local government and swept through the fief lands with heavy casualty, including Clement's own parents. Clement, having now realised the importance of his father's actions all too late, found himself inheriting the manor at age thirteen. He was sent to the Shyregoedian court to be placed in the wardship system established to preserve the loyalty of noble families at a time when many heirs were left orphaned by disease and political unrest and raised as a loyal knight to the king under the guardianship of a Shyregoedian advisor until he was of age to inherit his fief. His sister was put in the care of a branch of their mother's kin in Anica.

At court, Clement was one of several wards under the guardianship of Advisor Cyrin, who managed the estates of those who were in his care in exchange for a portion of the profits made from the land and the power to rent and subdivide their land until they were of age to inherit. He was sullen, thin lipped, and serious for a long time, getting along only tentatively with the other boys in the Court of Wards system. Life at court did not suit Clement, who had been raised as the son of a country lord, and was often mocked for his rustic manners and hobbies, whereas he found he could not understand the humour, concerns, and customs of the people he was surrounded by and had trouble adapting to his new lifestyle. He was intensely homesick and missed his sister most of all, worst of all, he was unable to rid himself of the opinion that the loss of his home was his own fault. He frequently suffered from difficulty sleeping for the first few years of his wardship, giving him dark circles under his eyes and the epithet "Sleeping Bumpkin" by some of his peers. Those who he got along with best were the other wards who had come from country manors and those noble acquaintances of his father who came to court on business, but the latter came and went, and the former were a mishmash of boys of different age and disposition, only tenuously connected to each other through their backgrounds.

Clement found himself to be more or less alone, and grew introspective and depressed. He put his energy into his education to distract him, well aware that his sister was relying on him to serve as her guardian when he came of age and was eager to leave the care of their mother's kin, having found herself almost as ill-adapted to life in Anica as Clement was to life in Colwe. Time passed like this for several years, Clement, sometimes mocked, sometimes unnoticed, would spend long hours studying, as if determined to make up for what had happened to his family by enjoying himself as little as possible. He would, perhaps, have continued to live unnoticed and unwilling to stand out, but as the eldest of the country lords "graduated" from the Court of Wards, it was found that his land had been largely robbed of its worth and even rented piecemeal by the guardian he was put in charge of during the years he had stayed at court.

The country boys around Clement began to fear for the safety of their own land, whereas Clement himself became aware that though he blamed himself for the outbreak of plague amongst his family, if he continued to punish himself for his own actions, he would end up inadvertently betraying the few living kin he had left. Pushing himself to grow accustomed to court so that he would not be devoured by it, at the age of fifteen he began to hound Cyrin in his spare time, constantly asking him advice and, when Cyrin was busy, merely stalking him like a loyal shadow. He made use of himself wherever he could, attended whatever meetings he could, and most importantly, wormed his way into a position of trust with Cyrin deep enough to gain him access to some of his paperwork, which he scrutinised eagerly for signs of mismanagement, often consulting legal tomes and attempting to learn to be savvy as he went. But though he involved himself with Cyrin in order to protect his interests, he soon found that the political world outside of his own manor and the Court of Wards was far more restive than he could possibly imagine, and poorly governed to boot. He became frustrated with many of the reports he looked over for Cyrin, and the officials which Cyrin met with who, in his opinion, were doing too little to prevent more turmoil.

After the death of his parents, Clement found he abhorred chaos and slow action, and it seemed to him that the government's actions to prevent and cure the plague were the slowest and most poorly managed of all. Reading about afflicted villages and manors such as his own that had been struck by the plague was the most difficult for him, especially when investigation found that the cause had been preventable, and he found he was spending less time investigating Cyrin's papers for matters relating to his own interests, and more time attempting to organise inspections and education to at least prevent plague outbreak in the larger communities in Shyregoed. By the time he was eighteen and ready to come of age, his work at court kept him too busy to leave it, and though he returned to his own manorial lands (untouched by Cyrin) for a brief period of time, he found that the home he had missed so much when he was thirteen had become unbearable to him at eighteen. There was too little for him to do, and everything reminded him of the inexperienced boy that he once was and had been steadily trying to escape ever since he began to gain Cyrin's trust. After four years of attempting to make himself satisfied with the preoccupations of a rural lord, he left the care of the manor jointly to his steward and his sister, who was glad to escape from Anica, having found no cause to occupy her time save for the learning of magic, which could be pursued just as well from home.

Upon his return, he found that though he had made himself useful to Cyrin, he was replaceable, and indeed had been replaced. He found it difficult to find a position in government in Colwe, as, though he had served a purpose to Cyrin, his natural silence and gravity had made him few social connections at court, while his continuous petitioning on behalf of the orphaned sons of small country lords had actually garnered him animosity and left many guardians within the Court of Wards with the opinion that he was an interfering nuisance with a blunt tongue. The country lords who he had befriended in his youth turned out to be a foolish choice politically, for while he had gained enemies defending them, they themselves had little political clout to support him. While he had been attending to his own affairs, Cyrin had found a new clerk, and no room had been left for him to resume. Though Cyrin could do little to help him, he was not unsympathetic to his plight however, and recommended that instead, he seek work in Helios, where he might yet become a bureaucrat. Clement, who saw opportunity to have a wider influence in politics in Helios than in Colwe, accepted Cyrin's proposal, and left with his blessing for a job as a clerk for Helian prince Absalom, who Cyrin had connections to. Currently, Clement has a position as a clerk with Prince Absalom, and due to the prince's terrible indecisiveness and lack of confidence, Clement has been able to exert a great deal of influence upon the prince's governance. Their serious dispositions are suited to each other, yet neither can deal with people well, so Clement has set his mind to finding and marrying a noblewoman in Helios who will be able to assist him in this deficiency on his behalf at the very least. More broadly, he has plans to establish Prince Absalom as the heir to the Low Kingship of Helios instead of his more capable and confident older brother, Lawrence.

Name: Virali Tulsi
Nicknames: Rali (pronounced rah-lee), Mouse
Age: 24
Residence: Has a permanent residence with family in Pwlanarfyll, Mishkan. Travels incessantly.
Occupation: Mage rank in the Fellowship, traveling intern

Appearance:
Her hair is long and dark brown. Slightly wavy, it tangles easily, so she often braids it.
Standing at 5'1", she's a little shorter than she would like, and of average build, not slender, not chubby and decidedly not muscular. Virali's eyes are very round and an odd brown-grey resembling teak wood. Her skin is a dark tan, her coloring mostly coming from her full-blood Yiruian mother.
Reminiscent of the Yirui she never knew, her clothing is often bright and dyed with rich jewel tones. She prefers embroidery or dyed patterns on edges and favors long tunics cinched at the waist, long sashes, and tight pants. She considers her clothing to be the only jewelry needed.
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Personality:
With an easy smile, Virali is an unflappable optimist, her laid-back personality the product of a worry-free upbringing. Her optimism is, as yet, unshakeable, although she has not experienced anything truly terrible. However, having lived a life without care has made it hard for her to accept being tied down by anyone or anything. She prefers instead to wander, making many loose connections rather than one meaningful one. That is not to say she neglects her acquaintances: Virali remembers every person she has ever met, even if only their face. She adores meeting new people and is, at heart, an incorrigible flirt.

Virali is flirtatious both because she enjoys the chase of romance and finds herself enthralled by peoples' reactions. When young, she was a prankster, the one who left a frog in her mother's desk, put bugs in her brother's shoes to see what would happen. (She still fondly remembers Mulethi's high-pitched scream.) She also enjoys any tactile sensation, and flirting can often lead to small opportunities to touch, nudge, invade on another's space and she revels in it. Sadly, Virali often has to suppress her urge to flirt and tease. Although she loves the attention and reactions she can garner, she has learned to be more subtle in any overtures, to consider time and place.

In contrast to her often flighty nature, she is not easily bored, but instead gets carried away in the minute details of the world around her. However, this is usually mistaken for daydreaming empty-headedness. Virali is far more likely to make odd leaps of thought through tiny connections than to simply fantasize aimlessly. Unfortunately, she often ignores or just doesn't see the bigger picture because of it. As such, she lives in the present, day-by-day, and usually doesn't care to look to her immediate future.

The one thing Virali is serious about is her magic. A fairly weak mage at first, she has strengthened her skills through hard work and believes anyone can do the same if they try hard enough. The power in magic is pure and unsullied and although she knows some may use that pure power for bad means, the power itself is a representation of everything that should be strived for in this world. While her wandering may be without any one grand purpose, she uses it to learn anything she can about her magic and would like to one day be able to claim she knows everything. Maybe she'll be able to teach her mother a few tricks then, too.

Hobbies: Wooden flute, whittling, sewing

On Plagues: Although her family has kept a few stunted, Virali has yet to meet any anhelo. She finds the idea of them vaguely alarming, although interesting from a magical standpoint. At least, they are fairly balanced, Servos and Caedos, Locos and Infitiails, although she prefers the Quietus and Phasmas for their purely magical nature.

On Travel:
As she has wandered the Fellowship's holdings, Virali has kept a notebook, a log of her travels. Oddly enough, each hub has been wildly different.
-In Maycove, the ever-present military flavors everything with a rigid tinge. I find that even the mages here seem prone to completing tasks with a efficiency rivaling the soldiers. It's very dichotomous here, the stark militaristic views contrasting with the bright colors of mage-cloth.  
-Colwe, with it's royalty and nobles, is snobbish and prude in a way that only the highborn are. They still think ill of merchants beneath them. But I am sure their are people among them who do not judge based on birth, but they must be difficult to find. It is a shame, for the popinjay colors of the court hide many beautiful people.  
-At the beginning of winter, I visited Anica, the heart of the Fellowship. Large and imposing, the heavy stones are probably held up by all the hot air wheezing out of the mages stationed there. I can feel some aspects of Knotwood seeping in through the ages-old stone. But the grand magus is young, and female, so perhaps there is change here. On the other hand, I have heard many rumors of her knight, his murders, his rage, his disease. I think I am perfectly content to never meet him.

History:
Virali's family were originally immigrants from Yirui who settled in Merrimead, Mishkan. Her grandmother and grandfather sailed over alone but not penniless. They dreamed of running a successful trade-ship operation between Yirui and Panymium. They had one daughter, Usha, who married a local man, Wyand. Born from a family of ship makers, Wyand's knowledge and relentless work ethic allowed their venture to grow exponentially and they moved Tulsi Tradeships to Pwlanarfyll. Usha and Wyand soon had a son, Aaditya, followed by Virali, followed by Mulethi.

Ever since she was a child, magic seemed the most logical course of action for Virali. Her mother began instructing her from a very young age and encouraged her to venture into the world to soak up more knowledge. Virali joined several classes taught by the Fellowship and their devotion to magic and belief in the natural flow of events appealed to her, reminding her of the Yiruian beliefs her mother had spoken of. She begged her family for private lessons and soon apprenticed under a grizzled mage named Caddoc. Under his tutelage, her magic took flight and she quickly made up her mind to join the faction rather than seek marriage or join the Tulsi business. And, at the age of 16, she joined the Fellowship in Knotwood.

In the Knotwood Fellowship, she soon gained the nickname 'mouse', both for how quickly she seemed to scurry around on errands and her relatively small stature. Others disdainfully named her 'tease' for her flirtatious manner and open smile. Virali worked tirelessly in the Fellowship wherever she was needed, finding a quiet sort of fulfillment in the daily tasks of community upkeep. Her hard work was also spurred by the the vicious traditionalism in Knotwood. As both a female and someone of light nature, it was sometimes trying for her. But she attained the rank of mage at 21, and despite the opportunity, requested to not be assigned to a particular outpost. Virali had felt the stirrings of wanderlust.

Traveling, she felt freer than ever, wandering the continent, completing errands for the Fellowship and always searching for new magical knowledge. Her main goal was simply to expand herself, to see as much as could be seen. But eventually, her steps took her to both the Northern Bases in Shyregoed. Once there, the harsh cold and snow enchanted her, and blizzards forced her to winter there. But she is a traveler at heart, and who knows where her feet shall lead her next?

Family:
Grandfather: Aadi, age 76. Of failing health, his mind is still sharp as a tack and he is loud and opinionated.
Grandmother: Farash, age 68. An outwardly gentle woman, it was actually her that pushed Aadi to immigrate. Hand aperture.
Father: Wyand, age 53. Runs the Tulsi Tradeships, for-hire ships used to transport goods all across Panymium and to Yirui. Still a hardy man, he works tirelessly to expand his business, determined never to be poor again.
Mother: Usha, 48. The heritage of a long line of female Dakini mages continues in her; her aperture is in her throat. An impatient woman who both scolds harshly and praises lavishly.
Brother: Aaditya, 30. Currently captain of one of a merchant ship. A boisterous young man who feels trapped on land.
Brother: Mulethi, 25. Learning the accounting side of Tulsi Tradeships under the tutelage of his father. A weak mage, his aperture is in his hands.

Magic:
Defensive, Familiarism (winged creatures). Virali's magic is rooted in the air. Her aperture resides in her lungs. To perform magic, she must breathe outwards and sketch her spells in the air using her index and middle fingers. Her staff provides her with stabilization, always connecting her to the ground. Made of cherry wood, she wound the top with a rich yellow cloth complete with tassels; hand-carved designs flow down to the base, mimicking the ever-changing wind.

Other:
Dakinis in folklore are energetic beings in female form, evocative of the movement of energy in space and sky. The sky or space is the insubstantiality of everything, and, at the same time, the pure potentiality for all possible manifestations. A dakini is an outstanding female practitioner in Yirui or used to refer to an enlightened female principle of non-duality which transcends gender. That is, although the Dakini are solely female mages, they defy gender definitions. To become a Dakini mage is to go beyond the duality of gender and such meaningless things and to embrace beauty and become an embodiment of magic itself.  

APPROVED

Name: Leander Lorenz “Lenz” di Laurentis

Age: 48

Region: { While Leander’s a Mishkanite by birth, he spent a period of his life moving around before settling back in Mishkan – his current place of residence. He just set off for a journey, but now he’s arrived back ashore in Mishkan. He's traveled to Imisus to avoid his brother. He has returned, for now, to Mishkan. }

Appearance: { At forty-seven, Leander isn’t the sprightly young man he once was. The evidence of aging spreads quickly, and that’s certainly true with him. His formerly pitch-black hair is now streaked with slightly more salt than pepper (though thankfully his hairline only just begun to recede), and it’s more stiff than wavy. The smooth buff skin of his youth has been replaced by a tanner complexion wrought with calluses and wrinkles. Due to his refusal to maintain a completely sedentary lifestyle, his upper body is still quite fit, although his muscles are beginning to lose firmness there, too, and he’s walked with a limp for years. He has large-palmed hands that itch to move. His eyes are as bright and rose-colored as they’ve ever been, though. He keeps a mustache and beard cropped close to his face. }
Personality: Leander has always been dedicated to the military – stories of war have fascinated him for almost all his life. To him, the Imperial Guard and the Emperor still come first, although it’s been a decade since he was discharged from that group. He weighs them before almost anything, and clings to the notion that authority in the form of the guard is absolute. To this point, he has a strong moral compass, which he believes should be the guidelines to everyone’s lives. These qualities often make him feel paranoia about other people, though – he thinks there are many manifestations of suspicious activity, and while he won’t actively investigate, he never thinks anyone’s intentions are pure. As a result, he appears to be a reclusive man who prefers the company of books and machinery to real people. After all, in company he’s usually self-absorbed, not paying much heed to the general course of a conversation, even if he contributes from time to time. He’s a kindhearted man, though, and isn’t averse to helping others, if he’s asked to do so (on the other hand; he’s not likely notice someone needs help if they don’t ask directly). And even if he turns you down, he’ll usually do so politely – he was raised with etiquette, after all, and will treat someone well even if he’s suspicious of their moral standing. Now that he’s arrived back from a most taxing journey, though, he’s far more closed off, snippy, and suspicious of others than ever before.
History: { If you ask Leander, any young boy’s dream is to join the military and become a hero – to fight for your people and to defend your beliefs (although he’s never had a concrete idea of what those beliefs are; just that they are noble and good). Fortunately for him, as the second son of a baronet he’s always had plenty of time for dreaming. While he was tutored growing up alongside his brother, he had a much larger passion for hunting and for stories of heroes fallen in war (histories, however, interested him as long as they pertained to war).

As a teenager, though, he moved to Pwlanarfyll to train for the imperial guard (after all, he’d never inherit the baronetcy), along with a boy around his age who lived, to his surprise, in the town bordering his father’s baronetcy. They became fast friends despite their initial class differences, and were moved to Helios together to train for corporal status after both receiving honors as privates. Jonathan Baines was more charismatic by far than Leander, but they worked best together – when they eventually became corporals in their early twenties (just after Jonathan had his first son), their squads were known for almost always completing training together. Jonathan was the man who first gave him the nickname of ‘Lenz,’ one that he hardly uses today outside of old acquaintances from the guard. Leander and Jonathan were an admirable pair, and while Jonathan was inevitably the better decision-maker (being promoted to captain eventually, although Leander himself never progressed beyond the corporal rank), Leander certainly stood out for sheer devotion to the military. As an individual fighter, however, Leander was usually concerned first for himself and then for those around him.

Later, he began to work as a mechanic of sorts among his own squad – although he had joined to fight for the empire, and he did, he liked looking at the pocketwatches and later the weapons and seeing how they were meant to be put together. For some reason working with weapons was far more fulfilling than seeing the action he’d always wished for as a child – working to keep the peace and to further the emperor’s goals. That was, therefore, the type of work he settled into once his training was complete and he was only called into service as a guard when he was necessary – which wasn’t, admittedly, rare, but it meant he had enough time to settle into his work as a mechanic outside of his guard duties.

Leander’s father died as Leander’s thirty-fourth birthday neared, and the baronetcy’s reins were now in his brother’s hands. Leander moved permanently into Jonathan Baines’ hometown, using part of the small sum of money he inherited to settle and begin his business as a mechanic. At first he only really repaired things like clocks or machines needed for farmwork, but later he worked on mechanical weapons – which were what he considered his true calling. He liked the feel of them in his hands, and their familiarity. He continues work on them today, and is constantly trying to develop new ways to improve modern weaponry for the military.

Some years later, Leander and Jonathan were on assignment in Pwlanarfyll. He still isn’t sure exactly how it happened – just that somehow, Jonathan became infected with the plague that was beginning to sweep Panymium. Leander has no idea why he was never infected with the same disease. He wasn’t there to witness Jonathan’s death (since Jonathan was discharged from the guard due to his infirmity), but was himself discharged a few months later after a particularly incapacitating leg injury in a skirmish. His former comrades have always claimed it was because he and Jonathan couldn’t function separately, but he’s fairly sure it was simply all the other injuries he’d endured finally taking a toll on his reflexes.

He never married and never sired children – he’d never felt the interest, after all, and it wasn’t as if it were extremely important to the family (he does have several nieces and nephews). He continued his line of work, however, and grew comfortable in it. He sees his brother a few times a year.

A few months ago, though, Leander was informed of a chance to embark on a journey on the behalf of Emperor Rine himself. This, naturally, was a chance he leapt at, even knowing he didn’t have an especially large chance at becoming part of the crew. He knew a small amount about life on a ship, naturally, as it had been a fairly common method of transportation back before the plague, but he’d never been part of the crew before. Similarly, he’d had little opportunity to travel upon one for years, so he was pleasantly surprised to find he’d been accepted upon the Rosa as the ship’s resident mechanic - machinery, after all, was something he was known for understanding.

The journey was fair, at first – Leander didn’t expect difficulties at all until they arrived at Ardenth. Not all of the crew was experienced in the matters of traveling the seas, but their captain was an extraordinarily talented man, and they got along with one another and bonded well enough. That was until only two days into their journey an albatross fell dead upon the deck of the ship.

It wasn’t just any albatross: it was a frightening, blackened thing, with a powerful stench as if it had been deceased for weeks rather than the amount of time it would take for an albatross to fall from a flight in midair. There was no doubt that it was a Plague, and Leander agreed with the decision to toss it off at first. After all, touching it would lead to becoming infected with the disease yourself…right? Certainly leaving it there would guarantee the infection of the entire crew.

Five days later – only a week into the journey – came the discovery of a cook that had already been infected during the short time the Plague had rested on the decks of the ship. Who knew who else was sick? The plague was incredibly infectious, and symptoms could take days to show up. And Leander had been among the men ordered to throw that cook overboard: he was most certainly doomed to die. The ship turned back toward Mishkan with urgency: there was certainly no chance of being allowed into Ardenth if the plague reigned on the ship. They’d need a new crew.

They were sailing against the wind now, though, and that fact was made even more difficult by the fact that the Captain was one of the next to die. Men were breaking out in full-out fights now: they all wanted to make sure they had their own rations and their own supplies. Everyone could be suspected of concealing a case of the plague, even though all in their right minds knew that the plague showed obvious symptoms. Leander was confused enough when symptoms didn’t show on his body a week later; the fact that people he’d considered comrades were now turning on him was enough to make him suspicious of everyone. He considered himself a scrupulous man, though, and survived by avoiding contact with people who seemed healthy (they couldn’t remember that he had touched infected bodies – right?) and killing those who showed symptoms. Luckily for him, he still retained knowledge of how to use his body and the environment around him when he lacked weapons, and for some reason, symptoms of the plague never showed up for him.

That didn’t mean that it wouldn’t happen once he arrived ashore, though. The plague could be known to bide its time.

In the fourth week at sea, though, with the crew at a dangerously low level, he began to draw out of his shell once more to cooperate with his fellow crew members. They all had to take on new roles and work together. In the end, all the mattered was that the men remaining got home. }