Welcome to Gaia! ::

For any with a love of fantasy and magic, this the place for you! 5 Character classes, powerful magic and mythical beasts, the future is never set in stone.


Because I was stupid and didn't reserve any boxes, I will be using this space for announcements.

Okay, da rules:

arrow PM me your character, but keep it appropriate!

arrow NO godmodding. They have way to much control and take the fun out of it

arrow On the subject of mythical beasts, you must ask before you include one in the story.

arrow No Mary-Sues. They are SUCH a drag.

arrow Keep it PG-13. If you do otherwise...!

arrow The plot is influenced by the characters, and will develop gradually. No set-in-stone plots.

arrow Inform me ahead of time if you are going to be absent. I won't be too strict on absences, but if you are gone for over two weeks without any notice, your character may dissapear from the story. (Note: not applying if the RP has been dead for a bit)

arrow As a notice, I will be gone always on weekdays 6-3 central time for school, and even after that it is never definite because of homework.

Acepted profiles


Name: Valora
Gender: Female
Class: Fighter
Age: 16
Height: 5'8"
Weight: 143 lbs
Hair: Blue, ragged chin length
Eyes: firm, pierce-you-to-the-core green

Clothes: fighting outfit, bandages around forearms and shins
Personality: Skilled and determined, Valora won't back down from a challenge. Speed is her greatest ally in a fight, and her strategy is to disable the opponent, never to kill. Greatly bonded with the nature magic, she is not yet sure of the extent of her abilities. The only time she is truly angered is when a crime has been committed against any living thing and or nature. It is also advised to not jibe at her, for she has a very efficient way of dealing with this. One time a knight called her a pacifist, and he suddenly found himself flat face in the dirt with a knee in his back, his hands held behind him and her whispering fiercely in his ear "Are you sure about that?" Knights are the only class that she openly despises, for an act a group of radical knights committed against her and her tribe when she was young.
Playing color: Green
Username:Arana_Kamina


Name: Adrina (she dislikes to go by any surname, and finds her linege unimportant)
Age: 15
Gender: female
Class: Mage, bound to fire
Height: 5" 7'
Weight: unimportant to Adrina, she merely considers herself to be thin
Hair: Dark brown with red and black natural highlights
Eyes: Amber

Clothes: she normally wears red or gold robes, but also dons the attire worn by boys, and is rarely caught in dresses. She has many amulets for safety and strength.
Personality: Adrina is, well, secretive. She likes to sing and make music, but often becomes secluded and hides when she needs to think deeply. When she becomes angry, which is quite often, she becomes sarcastic. She respects other classes, and does not consider hers to be the best or kindest. She doesn't want friends anymore, all because of an unfortunate accident years ago, and spends her free time writing and reading, but also enjoys the company of her bay mare, Salanoir. She always is seen carrying her short sword, and is not bad with the bow and arrows.
Playing color:Red Salinor: Brown
Username: Arya__Salastar

Name: Sage Nightwind
Age: Fourteen and a half
Gender: Female
Class: Mage, bound by water. Wanders quite a bit. She also shuns conformity.

Height: Five feet three
Weight: 121 pounds
Hair: Ebony black
Eyes: A frigid grey.
Clothes: Sage doesn't care about her appearance much, to be honest. Normally, she can be found in a thin camisole, usually white, and a pair of jeans. To complete this look of complete dishelveness, Sage wears an oversized V-neck sweater, usually black, that hangs on her shoulders. It may have been her mothers. Sage ALWAYS goes barefoot, and if you see her with shoes on, she went insane.
Personality: Sage has a temper like fire, and it flares up when you - or she - least expects it. Paranoid, Sage worries over the most insignificant things. She has a tendency to fade into the background, but she comes back. Sage is a grudgeholder and is very, very, vengeful, though she doesn't show it. Really, Sage is quite cold and aloof, not really caring and totally unreadable.

But maybe you can read Sage, if you're lucky.
Playing color: Medium purple.
Username: poetic pink flamingos!

Name: Vice
Age: 19
Gender: Male
Class: Wanderer,cross breed between Wizard & Knight
Height: 5' 11"
Weight: 150 lbs
Hair: Dark Red hair that seems to always fall in the perfect place.
Eyes: crimson red to match his hair

Clothes: Black Jacket, a white shirt underneath and Black pants.
Personality: Vice is very outgoing and would do anything for a challenge. He is also very serious and would kill anyone in the way of what he wants. He does what ever he pleases. Although he is a wanderer, he is very cold making him an outcast to the outcasts. He could honestly care less for companionship for he believes they would just get in his way.
Playing color: Dark Red
Username: JazzyJas

Name: Nickodeimus Cadfael Taleren (Son of Alfgar Taleren, Heir to Castle Arken)
Age: 16 1/3
Gender: Male
Class: Wizard

Height: 5" 8' 8/9
Weight: 128 1/4
Hair: Black
Eyes: Sapphire blue
Clothes: He normally wears blue or black robes, but sometimes is forced into the styles of the court. He is usually found holding a quill ink-stained hands or wielding his staff, which has an orb of light on the end that glows different colors depending upon his mood.
Personality: Nik, as he likes to be called, is generally very serious and modest. He does not like the formalities of court, and enjoys peaceful and quiet places.
Playing color: Dark Blue
Username: Arya__SalaStar

Name: Danylrein Faerin Galdenin
Age: 16
Gender: Male
Class: Wizard

Height: 5'7"
Weight: 139 lbs
Hair: Brown
Eyes: indigo
Clothes: Is rarely found in formal attire, Dan instead preferes to wear unadorned wizard robes or breeches and a shirt. He is often seen with his gnarled staff of polished ebony, which has glowing stones randomly embedded in it.
Personality: Long time friends with Nik, he is not the type to brag and quite sick of noble formalities. He has always felt like an outcast, because his magic different from the others, but he has never told anyone but Nik.
Playing color: indigo
Username: Arana_Kamina

Name: Tatsu Akira
Age: 15
Gender: Female
Class: Swordmaster (Knight)

Height: "4"9
Weight: 102lb.
Hair: A vibrant glossy blue.
Eyes: A shocking shade of purple, that she had acquired from her father.
Clothes: Tatsu normally wears a black wrap shirt, with a long black skirt, that drags behind her with each step that she takes.
Personality: Normally kind, but once she gets into a fight, she can be ferocious.
Playing color: Violet
Username: [-popped-cherry-]

Name: Crown Prince Aleccandoran Entenenford Volgranoff of Clamestra (Goes by Alec with his friends)
Age: 17
Gender: male
Class: mage, bonded to the earth (green mage, plant mage)
Height: 5' 10"
Weight: 137
Hair: Reddish Brown, worn rather long

Clothes: Alec normally wears plain clothes, and mostly green. When forced into a formal occasion, he wears a green, thigh-length tunic with green and gold embroidery.
Personality: Alec likes to joke and laugh a lot, but he can be serious if necessity arises. He likes playing chess and falconing. He dislikes animal cruelty and his parents, along with most of his relatives. He is the prince of Clamestra, and island nation off the shores of Kaledir, but doesn't act like it.
Playing color:sea green
Username: Arya__SalaStar

The river tossing her to and fro was taking it's toll. Sheer exaughtstion and the weights the knights had put on her made it almost imposible to keep her head up, and she was finally dragged under by the current. The river swirled in chaotic shapes around her, and she was beaten and battered again and again by things in the river. When her breath was almost spent, a large rock struck her on the back of the head and she was plunged into darkness...

Valora sat bolt upright in her sleeping pallet, gasping for breath. Her blankets were sweat soaked, and she tried to stop herself shivering. Letting out a shuddering sigh of relief that it was only a dream, she tried to forget that horrible day. It was a miracle that she had even surrvived. Sticking her head out the tent flap to get some fresh air she saw it was the crack of dawn, and the camp was peaceful. She began to relax when suddenly she heard the guard shout, "Alert! There's an armed stranger coming toards the camp!"

Valora scrambled to get her clothes on, realizing she was the only one besides the guard who was awake. Something was terribly wrong. Finally dressed she sprinted out of the tent and over to the guard post. The guard was so tense it seemed like he would snap at any moment. Valora said, "Do you know where they are?" The guard didn't respond. She shook his sholder, and he topled to the ground, an arrow protruding from his chest. Valora bit her lip to keep herself from screaming, for if she did she would give away her position to the enemy. She called out with her mind to the other creatures of the forest. What she recieved was a feeling of sheer terror, and them chorusing in her head Run! Run before it is to late! Warn your cousins! They are coming!
Who? Who is coming? Valora asked.
The knights! They are coming to kill your people!
"No.." her voice croaked, the world spinning" No... not them...anyone but them..." The river embraced once more. She was helpless in its grasp, and she was going to die...
RUN! the animals shrieked, and an arrow wized past her cheek. Snapping out of her daze, Valora plunged into the forest, leaving the camp behind her.

When Valora came to the town of Karel, she was ready to acept anything the residents would offer. But no one was there. The homes had been abandoned, and a raging river was corsing through the center of town. When she saw the river she began to shiver violently.

They had taken five girls. When the sun was at it's peak, weights had been put on the girls and they were thrown in the river. At dusk they were finally found in the water. Only one had survived...

She was so caught up in her past she did not see the individual sneak up behind her. One swift blow and she was mercifuly relived of the nightmares of her past.

((Don't worry, she isn't dead, just out cold.))

↑↓¦|→Sage Nightwind←|¦↓↑

Dranya didn’t have the social classes that Kaledir had, and Sage wished she were there. Greg and Ivy had moved from Dranya when Sage was only five, and so her memories of Dranya were few and far between.

As Sage walked past a large, ornate mansion, her gait slowed and she felt a feeling of nostalgia, a longing to be in her mother’s arms, to snuggle in the covers with her mother, to have her hair combed with gentle strokes. She wanted to go to Dranya and find her mother’s parents, to find the history that Sage did not know of. For a fleeting second, she wanted to be accepted as a mage, to live with the nicer mages in Dranya. For a moment, Sage wanted to go back to Dranya. “Je veux trouver mon passé, ma mère, mon père, et ma soeur, et, d'une manière plus importante, moi veulent à la trouvaille moi-même,” she said in Dranyan. “I want to find my past, my mother, my father, and my sister, and, most importantly, myself.” Sage’s voice, for the first time, rang with confidence, with assurance. This was not something Sage Nightwind normally had.

Sage shook her head, trying to relieve herself of the fatigue that was plaguing her, and then she looked sombrely at a wizard who passed by her. She envied wizards; they could be trained in all of the elements, whilst Sage, if she ever got a desire to become a normal mage, would have to put in long, long hours if she even wanted to master the easiest of the elements – the clouds. The cloud mages were the lowliest of all mages, and they were easily crushed in times of warfare.

Wizards could learn anything, and got to spend the majority of their lives in universities. A well-trained wizard could outdo a fire and water mage, something that Sage thought was extraordinary. Sage had, for the majority of her life, had a desire for knowledge, a deep lust for knowing everything there was to know. She had always hungered books and pencils with which to write, even though her Kaledirian village in the town of Cassiopeia was quite poor. Sage was a writer; the problem lay in her lack of resources. Wizards, however, didn’t even need to worry about resources. Universities had oodles of resources: textbooks, fountain pens, and highly qualified teachers.

Sage turned around, trying to see where the wizard once was, and found that he – or she, since the term was meant to be unisex – was gone. A pang of regret struck her heart. It was always like this. There would be something Sage liked, but she’d stop. When she turned around, it would be gone. She sighed and then looked at the home she had flooded. The residents were screaming for their lives, wondering WHY this tragedy happened to THEM. Sage smirked. “Because,” she muttered, “you’ve conformed to what everyone – as in mages and knights, wizards and fighters – think of us: useless souls who can’t do a shard of work.” Her blood boiled as she thought of the way Kaledirians treated the wanderers. She looked up into the blue sky, and then saw a cloud. But just as she was beginning to enjoy the cloud, it was gone. As always, she thought bitterly.

“Figures,” snapped Sage to no one in particular. She looked behind her to see a horde of angry townspeople – probably civilian fighters, fighters who weren’t on duty, but when time came would be fighters – running towards her. Her heart began to speed up; she had an urge to scream. But her tongue seemed to fill her mouth up, and suddenly her voice was nonexistent, powerless against the memory overcoming her.


Ivy and Greg Nightwind stood happily in their Dranyan village, admiring their daughters, Sage and Alessandra. Sage was five, temperamental like fire, and Alessandra was just a little baby, two months old. It was breakfast time, and Ivy stood at their small stove making eggs and bacon for them to dine on. Greg was arranging the tulips the gardener, Jacob Divulyon of Divulyon’s Flowers, had given them as a baby present, although Ivy and Greg were bewildered as to why he gave Alessandra flowers. Alessandra would no more have a need for them than Sage would. The gift, while pretty, was useless.

Sage stood up to look at outside, for Dranya was a pretty country overloaded with flowers, meadows, and friendly animals that had migrated from Kaledir. Dranya was full of refugees; Ivy and Greg were happy to say that they were Dranyan, born and bred. It was not a new phenomenon to see Sage come up against the windowsill, although it sometimes gave Ivy, who was quite groggy when she woke up, and she woke up after Sage did, a fright to see her daughter’s jet black hair at the window – she thought that there was a stain. It was not new, and Ivy and Greg regarded this they way they always had – little Sage was an observant little girl, born with her mother’s keen grey eyes, which was true, to be honest.

But this time, Sage saw something other than the oak tree outside their hut, other than the cheerful flora that stood, other than the arachnids that happened to make their home in the branches. Fire, that’s what it was, and it terrified her to no end. “Fire!” yelled Sage in her small, baby girl voice, even though it was not a baby affair.

The fire roared through the meadows, thoroughly destroying the garden that Sage, Alessandra, Ivy, and Greg had all enjoyed, the garden that Jacob Divulyon had planted. Quickly, Ivy and Greg gathered what little possessions they had, including the things for their daughters. “Fire!” yelled Greg in a desperate attempt for help. No one came, and he squinted his eyes.

“Ivy,” he said, tugging on his red-haired wife’s sweater, “this isn’t a natural fire. A fire mage created this fire, and I think we’re in trouble.” He stood, looking across, and then grabbed Sage, leaving Alessandra, the stroller, and the suitcases to Ivy, and ran out the door. Ivy followed him, and they watched as the fire destroyed their home.


The memory came to Sage in a flash, like lightning. She looked at the many civilians – Kaledirians – that surrounded her. She struggled to say something, to stand up for what she believed in, to lecture these illiterate scum what she could do (as 82% of citizens in Karel, Kaledir, could not read nor write). However, her tongue betrayed her, and she said nothing but a stutter of incoherent words. “I...I...I...” Her voice gave out on her, and her grey eyes flittered to the girl standing there, and then, terrified and fearful, she ran for her life.

Adrina rode by the banks of a long river until salanoir reared and whinnied, refusing to go on.
"What is it" Adrina asked her horse, then spotted a body lying on the path. "Bloody Heck" she swore. A fighter, oviously by the hair and cothes. Adrina dismounted and checked if the girl was breathing. Yes, she was, but still unconsious.