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The Guild - An Original Fantasy RP

Skillfulness

Well-Known Member
Putting up a work in progress so you can check if anything in the history needs to be changed.
EDIT: And with that it should be done, let me know if any changes need to be made

Name: Thilfey, The Travelling Fist
Species: Geist
Age: 237
Gender: Female
Type: Normal

Appearance:

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Thilfey is a tall Giest, a couple inches under five feet. She has lengthy reddish brown hair that is roughly waist length when down. She almost always has it up in complex layers of braids which can take multiple hours to do. The wiry texture allows her to skip washing it for multiple days so she can keep the braids up for almost a week before needing to take them out. Usually, she has one large braid that extends from the center of the back of her head with a piece of cloth holding the end together. The bulk of her hair is in plain braids ending around her waist. She has a second row of shorter braids with the inner layer of her hair that lay around her shoulders. Her skin is a dark grey and mostly smooth, but riddled with various hidden and visual scars. They aren’t very obvious with her darker skin. Her eyes are one, pure shade of teal without pupils or whites and she has thin pointed ears, roughly three inches long.

Her outfits are often simple. Thilfey has flat and flexible pairs of shoes with thick soles for traveling over most terrains. Her pants are thick, yet lightweight to keep her warm but stay out of the way when she casts. They’re fairly durable, like all her clothing. Her tops are always sleeveless and usually a little loose to avoid restricting her movement. She prefers plain, darker colors and avoid any accessories, keeping things simple and abstaining from materialism. She does wear simple, chainmail gauntlets sometimes when casting. Though not needed, the gloves help her focus her mana so she can worry about other things.

Personality: Thilfey is a pretty calm individual. She rarely angers and isn’t anxious about much. Since she meditates often, she has great control over her emotions and won’t spend much energy dwelling on things with her feelings. Instead, she practices patience and avoids being reactive unless necessary. Generally, she is quiet and only speaks up when she truly thinks she has something useful to add to a conversation. Part of being a geist is taking time and Thilfey certainly fits the bill there. She won’t rush through anything which has helped in multiple facets of her life.

One thing she is passionate about is her training as a monk. Over around 200 years she has learned the practices of the Imperious Monks which include quiet meditation and thorough training in martial arts. Thilfey learned to analyze each aspect of her motions when casting and she is fairly contemplative, frequently gazing off into space while thinking about life's mysteries. She was a bright and energetic child, she focused that energy into the monk lifestyle and has grown to appreciate moving at a slower pace. One of her vices is music. She has picked up an instrument or two in her travels and practices when she can, but prefers to hear others play.

Though generally levelheaded, she does have a few things that can set her off. She despises seeing people take advantage of the weak. Growing up, Thilfey was taught to care for those that could not care for themselves, so she is disgusted by people in power who abuse their position. She isn’t openly aggressive though. It’s not her place to deal out punishment so she only steps in when she sees extreme danger or anticipates that things will escalate. Otherwise, she believes people can figure things out herself and she doesn’t want to interfere too much. She does enjoy spreading and sharing knowledge and will discuss with anyone interested. From her travels, she’s learned much about the world and is more than happy to share with anyone willing to listen.

History: Thilfey has led a long and rich life, filled with many adventures that would take too long to share in one sitting. She’s travelled throughout nearly all of Caelocia, whether doing odd jobs, working for the Guild, or being a part of the Imperious Monks. She has gone where she’s been called and she has stayed where she is needed, but never in one place for too long.

Thilfey was born near the Cesseram Grasslands in a peaceful village of mixed races. It was a good travelling point which lots of caravans stopped at so the town did well for itself. Her parents were farmers, but spent a lot of time running errands for The Four Brothers islands. Thilfey was a spunky and energetic child, constantly asking about what her people were like in their cities. Her parents patiently answered all the questions and explained they left the Giest society because they were tired of being surrounded by ancient memories. Though they never went into detail, Thilfey knew she wanted to travel the world and find one of the cities of Giest.

She did quite enjoy the trips to The Four Brothers islands. There was a colony of monks there that practiced magic and often played with and taught her some casting through martial arts. Years later, Thilfey decided to join the monks, known as the Imperious Monks. They were established years ago as protectors of the Imperious Empire which has since been absorbed into another governing territory. Now they protect the knowledge of the civilization including a unique form of casting using martial arts. Thilfey was quick to pick up on the motions and culture of the monks. She was content to spend hours meditating or guarding their vaults.

For years, Thilfey trained and gained responsibility within the Imperious Monks. Soon enough, she was chosen to travel and visit with other monk covens around the land to share knowledge. Most monk colonies kept an open line of communication and often they had special members to travel to and from different communities, picking up knowledge along the way and carrying it to the next monastery. This was the perfect opportunity for Thilfey to potentially come across a Giest kingdom so she gladly took up the mantle and packed her bags. At first, she was sent back and forth between the islands and some neighboring monasteries, but gradually she proved herself to be a hardy traveler and skilled caster capable of defending herself and assisting the villages nearby. They decided she could continue to travel, but would be independent in deciding which monasteries to visit. She could send messages back to update on her duties as needed.

Thrilled, Thilfey began her journeys by following the coast north. She stopped at most villages to offer her skills in return for food and lodgings at night. It worked out well and she made many friends along the way. Often she would defend people from wild animals or do simple physical labor. She also always kept her eyes peeled for any indication of ancient grounds where Giest might have made their home. After months of traveling, she finally came across the Giest kingdom nestled in the Silent Swamp.

After fulfilling her monk duties, she took some time to travel through the swamp until finding a ruined temple bustling with Giest. She was in awe at the community, teeming with life and magic. People were constantly casting for everyday things and the music. Thilfey was enraptured by all the singing and instruments being played so casually through the streets and outside windows. Though a monk dedicated to a mostly abstinent life, she had found a pleasure that tempted her. Most people were confused by her lifestyle as she stayed a few extra days in town. Here everyone was indulgent and immersed in using magic for everything they do. It was in direct conflict with her practices of simplicity and service to others. Still, they shared a slow, contemplative style of living that she appreciated. Once she learned about the fight rings, she knew she could no longer stay.

At the center of the temple was a gladiatorial pit where Giest frequently fought each other with magic. In a way, they were blowing off steam and working out excess mana in their system so it was good, but they derived so much selfish pleasure from it. People who won often were given accolades and the losers were outcasts in the society. Thilfey had grown learning to take care of the weak and serve those who needed it, not to give excess to the successful ones. Disgusted, she left and continued her noble pursuit of sharing knowledge to the other monasteries while serving the people along her travels.

Many other escapades happened as she moved along the continent, but the most significant change to her life was when Thilfey joined the Guild. During her ceaseless travels, near The Whisperwoods, she came across a monastery close to a highly populated city so she spent some time taking in the sights. She wanted to steep herself in some of the other cultures around the world and had never been in a town more than a few hundred. This city had thousands of people of all races and she was impressed. While she mostly just observed and interacted with the denizens, one thing she was interested in was the Guild Hall. She had heard so much regarding the Guild and how it helped serve the people in return for payment, but was never close to one of the Guild Halls to really learn what it was all about. Once she entered, she knew this would be her second calling. There were people from all walks of life there and she felt such a strong desire to apply that she did so immediately and stayed an extra day to make sure she understood how the job postings and everything worked. That way, once on her travels again, she could serve the people through official means and would receive boones from the Guild. She would no longer need to ask villagers for food and lodgings, but would be able to continue living a lifestyle that agreed with her.

Thilfey sent a message back to the Imperious Monk monastery to update them about her joining the guild and continued her mission. Her plan was to gradually traverse the entire continent and it had taken up the majority of her life up to this point, but she was a Giest. Time and age meant little to her as long as she continued moving and did her best to make a difference in the world. As far as she was concerned, becoming a monk was the best decision she could’ve made. Unfortunately, not all things in life are meant to last. Four years ago, she had news return to her that her father had passed away and the Imperious Monk monastery had fallen. It was a tsunami that hit the islands and while it kept the mainland safe, her father had been visiting and tried helping them subdue the waves. His totem was destroyed though and the monks were not powerful enough to stop a force of nature. The message went on to say her mother planned to travel out to meet her. She said she had been holed up in one place to long with her husband and wanted to see the world again, years and years after she had last seen it. She instructed Thilfey to meet her in Valm in roughly ten years, that she’d send another message when close so they could reunite and grieve the death of her father together.

The news was difficult for Thilfey to digest, and being told that the monastery she had dedicated her life to no longer existed left her feeling empty. What was she to do now? She kept traveling and decided to head to Valm early. She would stay in one place until her mother arrived and see if that lifestyle would be something she could learn to enjoy. When she was a child she spent her time in the fields helping her parents work for years without leaving so perhaps she could relearn that life and hold it dear again. She started putting her roots in Estvalm and really focusing on Guild quests. She was already a prevalent member, but now she could dedicate more time to taking up jobs. Today, she continues her monkly habits and has become a familiar face around Estvalm. Though a quiet force, she makes it known that she’s willing to help just about anyone in town and will even leave town for extended periods to help people just passing through.

Guild Rank: Silver

Job: Monk; Fighter, Caster, Scholar

Weapons: Though Thilfey most often uses her fists and feet, she wields a hidden dagger in case of emergencies, mostly used against wild creatures.

General Skills: Historical knowledge, martial arts, survival skills, philosophy, agility, knowledge of magic, music, and meditation.

Magical Skills: Thilfey casts through martial arts. Though her casting is mostly focused on combat, some of her routine exercises can be used for simple casting like starting a small fire or gathering water.
 
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TheSequelReturns

Faithful Crusader
Ok, we have some completed sign-ups! That means its time for reviews.

@TheCharredDragon: First off, I appreciate the amount of detail you put into this.

To answer your question about the magic, its both. Naturally, it takes a lot less mana and energy to move water that's already there as opposed to conjuring water yourself, but both are possible. And the age/rank situation is fine. Experience is only one part of the ranking, so as long as a character can back it up in other areas its good.

That said, Grace Clemens, the human Valm-native and channeler of many talents, is hereby Accepted into the Guild.

@Monster Guy: Tikaani fits in pretty well here.

Two quick points. First, I feel like there's still a bit too much Avatar in there. I'd like to see more of your own ideas shine through. Take a little longer to work on it and see what you can come up with.

Second, and this is more of a correction, but there are Guild halls all over the world. So if Tikaani is coming from far away, I'll need to know how he wound up in Valm.

For now, Pending.

@storymasterb: Everything looks good. I especially like the history section.

That said, Layla, the geist from Alshams, assassin turned slayer, is hereby Accepted into the Guild.

@Skillfulness: The history looks good. I actually like the detail of a geist sending a letter to meet them in ten years. One thing, you've mixed up the i and e in geist quite a bit in the post. Not a big deal, but you may not have noticed it. Anyway, looks good, so keep on keeping on.

Moving on, all additional updates to the reserves have been noted. Here's the current standings:

Accepted:
Grace Clemens, female human.
Layla, female geist.

Reserves:
One male titan
One male drake (highborn)
One male and one female undine
Two male humans
One male fairy (spriggan)
One male and one female tengu (dharma)
One female geist (normal) and one elemental geist
Possibly a pixie as well.
 
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Solsabre

The Reforged Soul
One down, one to go.


Titan

Name: Bjorne Alrurus Halelren Anarnas Garan'thus Kjarr, commonly known as Bjorne Kjarr
Age: 130
Gender: Male
City: Granite Falls, a Titan mountain city that is located in the Southern Mountian range just below the Deepwoods and Orphan’s Puddle. The ancient City earned it’s name from the frequent tremors that plague the region due to deep tectonic plate movement. Due to this, large boulders of granite crash down the mountainside often without warning onto unsuspecting travelers.

Appearance: Bjorne is up there in height with most Titans at 8’ 4” and very broad and bulky. Unlike other Titans, his skin is a dark brown with his hair-like quills a forest green. His beard is kept short with a rough cut. Deep set eyes peer out with a brilliant green and prominent irises.

He has a very wild appearance with his fur/leather clothing. All his clothing is made from the hides of forest animals he’s hunted. On his upper body, Bjorne wears a sleeveless open front leather vest, allowing his arms maximum movement for swinging his ax. The vest neckline and sleeve openings are lined with wolf hair. His legs are covered with leather breeches tanned from deer hides and moccasins on his feet to help muffle his footsteps in the forest. While traveling or in colder weather, he wears a cloak taken from the hide of a large female grizzly bear with the hood comprised of the bear’s head. It is not unusual for newcomers to Valm to mistake Bjorne for a bear wandering the Frogsong Forest.

On any exposed skin, scars are visible. The most notable scar are four claw marks starting high on his left cheek and running down to the underside of his jaw and neck. A set of monster bite marks are hidden under his vest on his right shoulder. Varies claw marks from wildlife and monster encounters decorate his back, front, and sides. Magical rune tattoos also decorate his body as well.

Personality: Bjorne is a quiet titan. His imposing stature is often at odds with his gentle and kind nature. Soft-spoken, he is not quick to anger and actually takes quite a bit to evoke a strong reaction from him. He is content to let others speak, as he is not a chatty person, rather he speaks as necessary and often with the wisdom characteristic of long-lived Titans. In decades past, Bjorne used to speak more easily and freely with others, but loss and near tragedy has left the titan more reserved and quieter than usual. He seldom spends time in the Guild Hall to socialize, unless there is business to be discussed. He has a difficult time opening up to others, but he tends to relax more so around children and fairies. Bjorne does not smile as much as he used too, but if one pays attention closely, one can spy the merriment in his eyes. It has been a long time, since he has truly laughed.

He prefers to keep to his own affairs, not getting in village hubris or looking for fights. However, that doesn’t mean he’ll turn a blind eye to trouble among the Guild members or to anyone that needs help. He is a Platinum-rank member and responsible for helping to maintain the functionality of the Guild. Bjorne accepts the responsibility that comes with his rank and honors any job requested of him seriously. The only reason Bjorne would abandon a quest is if the lives of his party were in jeopardy and there was no other option to accomplish the bounty and keep the party safe.

Bjorne is calm and level-headed. He is very much aware of his surrounds, always listening and watching. He prefers taking a slow and cautious approach. No point rushing in, if you have an opportunity to study the situation. The titan has a strong protective nature towards children and his comrades. If he see them in danger, he will not hesitate to act in that moment, though sometimes he might be waiting for the right moment to jump into action.

Strange for a Titan, Bjorne lives close to mother nature, tending to plants and animals. It is not unusual for him to nurse injured wildlife back to health if it has a good chance for survival. However, he’ll dish out a mercy kill to end an animal’s suffering and let nature resume its course. He has a deep respect for all forms of life and understands that any race, creature, or monster acts only according to their nature to survive, even if they are odds with other species. Conflicts will occur where one’s nature and instincts differ from another. That’s why when he hunts or kills in self-defence, Bjorne recites a short prayer of reverence for the life departing.

Lastly, Bjorne’s patience runs extremely deep. He often provides mentorship to inexperience adventurers looking to advance their careers with the Guild. Even, more seasoned members will approach Bjorne for advise and feedback. The titan enjoys this aspect of his position the most and will gladly share his experiences with them. However, he refuses to speak of his mission to Ancient’s Haunt and the rescue at Deepwoods.

History: Bjorne hails from the titan city, Granite Falls, a mighty mountain peak with dangerous slopes. The Kjarr family are renown masonry sculptors. Their creations so carefully and so painstakingly chiseled into granite, that the sculptures appear live. However, Bjorne was more interested in actual living things. He was fascinated by the ways of nature, how plants and animals interacted, and the sheer diversity of life found in single location. With the same level of patience and care, Bjorne would sit in fields or tamer forests for hours, even days, to watch the creatures of Caelocia. He was a young titan with plenty of time.

Bjorne joined the nearest Guild Hall to Granite Falls, when he came of age. A veteran Guildmember and titan, known as Durmmond Ulther, took an interest in the younger titan, when he’d learned of Bjorne’s skill in safely navigating through the outskirts of the Deepwoods. (Read undine Milcery Bellanthy’s Guide to Traveling Caelocia for a synopsis of the Deepwoods) When asked how he managed such a task, Bjorne simply said, “Listen for the birds. If they are quiet, you have wandered too far from where the forest wants you. If you hear them, you may pass through. Respect the boundaries of the forest’s territory.” From then on Bjorne learned the ways and life of the Guild from Durmmond over the next 20 years, how to defend himself and protect others, working together in a party, facing down dangerous monsters, honing his woodcraft and skill with an ax, and honoring his responsibility to the Guild.

With time, Bjorne received requests from Guild Halls further to the north in the forested homeland of the fairies, unknown creatures stalking forests near towns, searching for lost travelers, solving a mysterious malady infecting trees, teaching communities how to harvest wood sustainable, and etc. The forest Titan traveled further and further across Caelocia for longer periods of time. For the most part, Bjorne was simply fulfilling his responsibility, but he took time at each location to study the local plant and wildlife. He diligently kept written journals and detailed sketches of his discoveries, whether it was new herb lore, the 17-year life cycle of an insect, mating rituals of flying fish, or what plants or trees were hardy enough to grow on a mountainside at a certain altitude. Bjorne would return to his home Guild Hall and entrusted his journals and plant samples to the Guildmaster. The forest Titan had a long-term plan for Granite Falls; study plant specimens of the world as he traveled, chose species of brushes or trees that thrive in a climate similar to his home, plant them on the mountain side to stabilize the slopes, and decrease the danger of rolling granite boulders. A project that would take his entire lifetime to fulfill, maybe even longer, but he would lay the foundation.

Bjorne journeyed across the continent for decades and visited nearly every major forest and habitat. He frequently traveled with a party of six members. Of course, some of these members would change overtime. In his fifth decade of traveling abroad, his party consisted of; a low-born female drake healer that recited poetry, a male geist archer that couldn’t carry a tune, a male tengu priest that could eat more than Bjorne, a female spriggan beast tamer that loved to play pranks with her tarantulas, and a male undine castor of earth spells prone to seasickness. The party had been together for sometime, each one of them an oddity of their race, and considered each other family. Also, nearly a century old, Bjorne advanced to the ranked of Platnium after 70 years of service to the Guild, decorated with an Emerald crystal for his knowledge and experience in woodcraft.

Shortly afterwards, a famous Guild located near Ancient’s Haunt offered the veteran Forester and his party a bounty on a mysterious creature that had laid waste to a village outside of Ancient’s Haunt. Nobody knew what the creature looked like for no villagers had survived the attack or knew of it, until a trader caravan had arrived days later to find the carnage. The only evidence were a set of tracks leading to the edge of Ancient’s Haunt, before disappearing from the ground. Bjorne would track the creature, safely navigate his party through Ancient’s Haunt to the creatures lair, and slay the beast before another village fell to it.

Bjorne and his party disappeared in the Haunt and weren’t heard from for weeks. The Guild eventually assumed the entire party lost after a time for it was not usual to lose even the most skilled adventurers to the dark forest. Finally, Bjorne and his party did emerge from the tree line. The weary and injured titan dragged behind him the dead body of a large, monstrous chimera, but with a heavy price. The drake healer died protecting their injured geist archer and the spriggan beast tamer had been gorged by the chimera’s claws. Their archer lost his arm and could no longer fire his bow. Bjorne, the undine, and tengu were badly injured as well, but carried their quarry and dead brethren back regardless.

Though the mission was successful, the price had been high. The party, close as family, disbanded for the memories were too painful to remain together. Bjorne took up the grim task of escorting the bodies of the drake and spriggan back to their homes for a proper burial. Afterwards, Bjorne no longer had the heart to travel and so chose to return to Granite Falls to continue his work there.

Bjorne settled in the green valley between Granite Falls and the Deepwoods, building a home there. The forest titan continued the next phrase of planting on the mountain and actively working with the Guildmaster of his Hall. Because of his great patience, Bjorne was often a mentor to inexperienced Guild members, much like his mentor to him, to help them with their advancement in the ranks. Even seasoned Guild members came to the titan for advice or feedback on missions.

Life had settled into a routine for nearly a decade, when Bjorne made a very important decision. He asked his childhood friend, Iva, to become his wife.

Though the pair was starting a family later in life than most titans, they didn’t have long to wait for a set of twins be born, a boy and a girl. The family lived happily in their valley home. Bjorne continued his work for the Guild, only needing to make the occasion short journey for a few weeks at a time. Iva cared for their son, Alrurus, and daughter, Riahia, at home.

However, one doesn’t live more than a century without gaining enemies or rivals.

Bjorne returned home one day, after being away for few days, to find his home ransacked and Iva injured badly on the floor. Bandits had kidnapped their children to be held for ransomed and fled into the Deepwoods. A quiet fury settled into the normally kind titan’s eyes. ( Iva swears to this day, she did not recognize her husband in that moment). Bjorne instructed Iva to head to the Guild Hall and informed them what had happened. Without another word, the forest titan grabbed his battle axe from the wall.

Bjorned disappeared into the Deepwoods without hesitation, trespassing across the invisible boundaries he had respected for so long.

Iva hurried to the Guild Hall, frantic to get help for her husband. Several high ranking Guild members immediately volunteered to provide Bjorne with back up. They arrived at the edge of the Deepwoods, but there was no sign of the titan or the kidnappers. The Guild searched the safe paths Bjorne had marked long ago. A few braver adventurers searched deeper into the woods. However, no sign or sound of Bjorne, the children, or the kidnappers could be found. Only when the search party was getting ready to leave and deliver the sad news, Bjorne emerged from the dark, wet forest. The titan limped heavily towards the party in the fading light, his arms burden with two bundles. The guild members gasped at the sight of the titan when he entered their torchlight. The titan’s clothing and skin were drenched in blood from head to foot, his battle ax missing. A disoriented and haunted expression clung to his face as a cautious guild member approached to see what the titan carried. It was the children, asleep in his arms, unharmed. Bjorne simply stood there, frozen like a statue as the search party took the children from him. However, the moment he let go, the blood-soaked titan collapsed from utter exhaustion.

In the days following, Bjorne recovered from otherwise minor wounds on his body, despite the sheer amount of blood they found him covered in. The titan refused to speak on what occurred in the Deepwoods that day. In fact, Bjorne hardily spoke a word to anyone afterwards, becoming more withdraw and recluse. Word eventually spread of the incident to the Guild Hall in Estvalm, where Bjorne’s former mentor, Durmmond, now worked as the local Guildmaster. Old Man Durmmond invited Bjorne and his family to come to the more peaceful realm of Valm. Bjorne agreed, but he would not take up an active role within the Guild, despite his Platnium-ranking. Instead, Durmmond assigned Bjorne the task of managing Frogsong Forest, where the titan could work alone and away from people.

Without any fanfare, the Kjarrs quietly left Granite Falls and the Deepwoods. The family lived deep within the quiet, melodic woods by the riverside for the next ten years. Alrurus and Riahia grew strong and bright. The children remembered nothing of their harrowing experience in the Deepwoods. Iva often made trips into Estvalm for supplies, communicating with the locals, on Bjorne’s behalf, regarding the best hunting, fishing, or mushroom gathering was, or giving Durmmond periodic updates on her husband’s work. All the while, Bjorne kept to himself with his new wolf companion, easily avoiding any visitors to the woods.

Then the nights started getting darker, longer, and colder. This fact didn’t escape Bjorne. He realized something odd was going on. But what he didn’t know.

Finally, one day, he received a message from Durmmond. The old Guildmaster needed his help.

Bjorned sighed, knowing he couldn’t hide any longer. He owed Durmmond. And a Guild member doesn’t ignored their duty to their Guild Hall.


Guild Rank: Platnium - Emerald crystal (Woodcraft)
Job: Forester, Axe-wielder
Weapons: Double headed Axe, two smaller throwing hatchets, a hunting knife, and small bow for hunting, brute strength
Skills:

Woodcraft - Despite his size, Bjorne is an expert at tracking and reading the terrain. He can approach targets unsuspecting with a moderate amount of stealth in forested regions where he can better hide and blend his bulk. He can't do this so easily in large open areas for obvious reason. The real secret to his ability to sneak up on targets is his patience, cautiousness, and situational awareness. He can mask most of the sound of his movements with his rune magic, but sometimes waiting for a louder noise to cover his audible tracks works better. He’s also has over a century of experience in surviving in the wilderness and fending off dangerous creatures or bandits.

Herb lore/First Aid/Survival Skills-
Bjorne has expensive knowledge of plants found around the world and their practical uses for healing purposes. He also know how to treat minor to serious wounds in the field. If he is far from civilization, Bjorne has no problem with living off the land.

Axe-Wielder - Bjorne is extremely proficient and ambidextrous in handling the axe. He can swing it around with one hand to provide greater reach or use both arms on the handle to add more power behind his hits. He is very proficient in woodcutting as well. He can cut down a sizable tree in a matter of minutes, either to fulfill a carpenter’s order or for making an emergency barrier.

Physical Strength - Bjorn’s strength can be best described as ‘herculean’, allowing him to hold his own physically in fights against wildlife and other supernatural creatures. For all his strength and size, his sheer weight does make swimming very difficult for him.

Timber - Timber is Bjorne’s faithful and loyal companion. Timber assists in tracking/flushing prey while hunting. Also, Timber will start growling immediately when danger is present making a good early warning system. He will also fiercely attack anyone/anything that would try to harm Bjorne.

Magic:
Being a titan, Bjorne has a low affinity for magic. Instead, he relies on more passive magic to compliment or enhance his physical abilities, woodcraft, and survival skills.

Rune Magic: Intricate rune patterns circle around his eyes to allow night vision, on the edges of his earlobes and down his nose to grant him night vision and enhanced smell and hearing. Large tattoos run down his arms and legs silencing any sound created from his movements. Another rune on his palm creates a small spark of fire or fire orb for light. A set of pendants hang around his neck. Each are engraved with a set of runes engraved on it for the effect of hiding his personal scent and purifying water for safe drinking.

Other: Bjorne's membership with the Valm Guild Hall is very low-key. His name gets mentioned around in association with Frogsong Forest. Members that have been there for a few years, may recall seeing a titan dressed in animal skins and grizzly bear cloak on a rare occasion at the Guild Hall.
 
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TheSequelReturns

Faithful Crusader
@Solsabre: All good.

That said, Bjorne Alrurus Halelren Anarnas Garan'thus Kjarr, the titan from Granite Falls, accomplished woodsman with a storied past, is hereby Accepted into the Guild.

@Skillfulness: No worries. I think more words break the "i before e" rule than follow it, so its been a cause of grammar mistakes far and wide.

Thad said, Thilfey, The Travelling Fist, the geist from the grasslands, adventurer with the heart of a monk, is hereby Accepted into the Guild.

This brings our current player standings to:

Accepted:
Grace Clemens, female human
Layla, female geist
Bjorne Kjarr, male titan
Thilfey, female geist

Reserves:
One male drake (highborn)
One male and one female undine
Two male humans
One male fairy (spriggan)
One male and one female tengu (dharma)
One elemental geist
Possibly a pixie as well.
 

storymasterb

Knight of RPGs
Name: Aali Tahir
Age: 25
Gender: Male
Tribe: Dharma

Appearance: At a glance, Aali cuts an imposing figure. His feathers are a brilliant blue-grey, his sharp beak a brilliant yellow tipped with black, and his piercing eyes the blue of a clear sky. A scar cuts across his left eye, speaking of an injury that almost blinded it. His muscular body is immediately evident, honed by a zealous and fanatical dedication to training, and only barely covered by his light leather armour. Though he is undoubtedly handsome by dharma standards, the vicious intensity in his gaze is so strong as to be offputting, and his relentlessly honed body speaks of a man with a single, undeniable purpose. Though he is smaller than most, his sheer presence can intimidate even titans into acknowledging him. Aali dresses in lightweight brown leather armor designed to still allow him to fly while wearing it, consisting of a chestpiece over a white tunic, greaves, bracers, and a helmet. On the extremely rare occasions he does not wear his armor, he simply wears his thigh-length tunic, and at all times he wears a silver pendant shaped like a stylised sun.

Personality: Always unusual for a dharma, Aali constantly bubbles and burns with energy and zeal. But where once he was energetic and fun to be around, brimming with joy for life, Aali's energy now snaps and seethes like a raging flame. Sarcastic and witty, he nonetheless finds less time to make his quips and wry observations than he once did, his hunger for knowledge turned toward a single all-consuming aim, his faith in the world spoiled like a polluted spring. Even though the tyrant who had his family murdered was deposed six years ago, Aali cannot rest until he finds the one whose hands did the deed, and he is terribly aware that his obsession has cost him everything in the meantime. His sarcasm thus comes across like a weary effort to mask his pain more than anything else, no matter how much he tries to pretend he is well. Even so, he feels he cannot abandon his quest without failing his family more than he already has, and so he soldiers on despite his misery. He dreams of the day he finds his target and can at last lay down his blades and rest. He lives by his terrible creed: Vigilance. Duty. Fury.

At his heart, Aali also feels a deep crisis of faith. When he discovered the terrible depths of the tyrant Malika's insanity and cruelty, he could not reconcile such evil with the belief that all were born of light and capable of redemption, especially not when Malika had cloaked herself in faith and used the light as a shield. This conflict only fuels his fervent pursuit of his quarry, for every moment spent hunting the last of the Order of the Eclipse is another moment he does not have to reflect on such dark thoughts. Sometimes the memories of facing the tyrant in the depths of the palace of Alshams surface and leave him wondering if he will ever be normal again.

In conversation, Aali comes across as serious and driven, his aim fully on the goal at hand. He sometimes quotes religious phrases that have relevance to the present situation. Even when he is given moments to rest, he is still pursuing that aim, perusing the journal of hints he has gathered on the last Eclipse assassin or other materials that will help him to be prepared for the trials ahead.

History:
Aali was born in the city of Alshams, three years after the drake tyrant Malika ascended to rule the city. His family had always lived in Alshams, a odd offshoot of dharma society, and as members of a higher section of the city's society they were insulated from Malika's insanity for a time. As such, Aali grew up unaware of her tyranny, and left at thirteen to follow his chosen vocation as a cleric of the light, healing and supporting others while his older brother remained behind to look after their parents. As he studied the ways of a scholar and cleric, Aali was content, even beginning a relationship with a fellow student named Malak. All seemed well, until he was seventeen and word came that his family had been slaughtered in their home. A distraught Aali raced back to Alshams to find the broken bodies of his mother, father and brother, all their bones shattered to splinters by some terrible monster, and it was left to him to bury them. Guild monster hunters were in the city, chasing whatever fiend had committed such atrocities, and Aali joined their ranks despite Malak's urging. The fire of vengeance had lit in his blood and nothing could quench it but the death of the culprit. With their help, Aali learned the ways of the sword and the flame, applying the power of light and fire in a way that expressed his fury. Once like the sun that brought warmth and comfort on a pleasant morning, he was transformed, becoming like the desert sun that left no relief and slew all with its terrible heat.

But it was slowly uncovered over the next two years that the culprit was not some mysterious fiend stalking the city at night, but a secret order. An assassin was captured in the act and taken alive, and though they did not break and reveal their secrets, the revelation of their existence was enough to begin unravelling Malika's intrigues. Eventually the common folk admitted the truth that fear had hidden: Malika was a tyrant, wiping out dissent with mysterious assassins. Enraged further by this injustice in the city he knew as home, Aali joined the Guild as the might of Bastion was called to arms. An army marched upon the city and was bolstered by those stubborn few monster hunters who had remained to dredge up the truth where their comrades had gone seeking easier pickings, for they wished to see it done. First the city walls were breached, then the city guard threw down their swords. All that remained was to break Malika's pyramid, and when the Guild's vanguard passed the defences, Aali was with them, dual blades ablaze in his hands and fury blazing in his eyes. In those dark depths, they faced the Order of the Eclipse. Many fell with shattered bodies, their very bones exploding into splinters inside them with but a touch of an assassin's hand. But the Guild's fury and numbers were too much, dragging the assassins down and slaying them all in the darkness they knew so well. And when Malika was dragged down in chains for her atrocities, Aali was there, still trembling with vengeful rage.

Malika had, it turned out, kept detailed archives of the order's activities, and Aali insisted that he be allowed to study them. He had to know that the monster responsible for killing his family had fallen in the dark beneath the pyramid. In the chronicles of the Order of the Eclipse, he read such terrible madness that his faith in the light quaked and splintered, and when he found the account of his family's death, it broke. Nothing but suspicion of rebel sentiment had seen his family slaughtered. In Malika's paranoia, a single sentence spoken in a bar had condemned the whole family. If Aali had been present, he would have died as well. And moreover, the assassin responsible for his family's death...

Nura. Gone. Unaccounted for. By the tyrant's own words and his own grisly count of the corpses, one assassin was missing. Malak pleaded with him to leave it to the Guild, reasoning that the highest bounty they could muster would be put on Nura's head, but Aali's fury could not be quenched even by his lover. With blades in hand, he swore a terrible oath of vengeance, that he would hunt Nura down, see her slain by his own hands, and in doing so avenge his fallen family. So began his hunt across all the world, chasing every hint, tip and rumour that came to him about her possible whereabouts. The comrades he had made in the campaign against Malika were all too willing to support his ambition and so he came to serve the Guild, putting his skills to use as a monster hunter and something of a healer in exchange for the money he needed to survive and whatever information the Guild could dig up. He moved around often, going from one branch to another as he exhausted his search of each area, and in six years he has not yet found his prey. Though the nights grow darker and colder, the flame in his blood has not cooled.

Now he comes to Estvalm, chasing a rumour about a Guild slayer who can break bones with the softest of touches.

Guild Rank: Silver
Job: Paladin
Weapons: Aali wields a pair of khopeshes, weapons native to certain peoples of the Sandsea that blend aspects of sword and sickle.
Skills: Befitting his fervor for the light, Aali's magical abilities channel the very aspect of the sun in various forms. His most common spell is to set his blades alight with solar flame, causing them to cast light like a torch while also increasing the damage they can dish out, particularly against flame-vulnerable opponents. He can also summon this solar fire independently and fire it as javelins of burning light to wear down enemies from range. From the sun's life-giving aspect, he can imbue himself or allies with additional energy and zeal, closing their wounds and pushing back the march of exhaustion. His skills in this latter aspect are stunted however, as his training as a healing cleric was interrupted by the death of his family, and so he is not as adept or efficient as a more dedicated healer would be.
 

TheCharredDragon

Tis the Hour to Reload
And here's the geist and pixie I was talking about, a "grandfather" and "granddaughter" duo. Hopefully their histories and magic are okay. I wasn't so sure about how inter-racial romantic relationships are treated, especially in the older days of this world, so just went with that it would be considered odd and idiotic instead of being outright ostracized since inter-racial friendships seem pretty common.

Also wasn't sure what ways would being an elemental would affect how they look, as well as if what the totem should be and if what their totem is would affect what kind of element they're in tune with...so yeah.

Edit: Oh and uh, I forgot to mention...I hope you don't mind the little subplot idea I had for them. If it wasn't obvious, the deaths were caused by Teltel's assumed-to-be dead brother.

Anyways, here they are, Teltel and Tia Hycinthius.


Geist
Name:
Bebeltel "Teltel" Hycinthius, the Bard of Flames
Age: 364
Gender: Male
Type: Elemental (Fire)

Appearance: At a flat four feet, Teltel is pretty short by geist standards and his oddities don't stop there. Though his body is long and spindly like many other geists, with his ash grey skin, pointed ears and solid crimson eyes making him look like your typical child's nightmare, said skin is covered in various deep red lines all over in intricate and sometimes web-like patterns, pulsing with light in time with his heartbeat, like he's a walking lava field. His night black hair is long, but kept in a simple braided pony tail that reaches the base of his spine. And lastly, his neck has a nasty scar on it, looking almost like it was purposefully torn and ripped, the only area where his patterns are marred and don't glow.

Meanwhile, his attire is always in bright colors, his favorite being blue. His most common set, which he wears for mission as well as whenever he's at the orphanage, is a simple white short-sleeved cloth shirt covered in light metal chest armor, black cloth pants with metal shinguards, and a blue cloak with a hood, though if he needs to hide, he sometimes takes the cloak off. The things that are constant in his appearance are his bare feet with callouses, his totem in the form of a white lyre, a brown satchel carrying various supplies and trinkets and where he usually puts said lyre if not outright carrying it, a line of Gladiolus flowers braided into his hair that make him look like he wears a laurel as a "wedding ring" and an actual wedding ring, simple and gold, on his right ring finger.

Personality: Teltel's nature, despite being a geist, is more befitting of the element he is tied to than to the ancient and almost shadowy nature of his race.

Though Teltel cannot speak, having lost his voice long ago, he is a friendly and fatherly individual, always with a small but kind smile on his face. He's always found supervising something, if not outright helping with it, from something as small as helping fix houses or fences to more dangerous things that Guild members typically do, like rescue missions or killing monsters. He's also always helping other with their relationships, having the some of the most experience with dealing with many types of personalities. Though he is still humble and will admit that, even with his age and the life he has lived, there is still so much left to know.

His fatherly nature is especially evident whenever he's around youth, particularly children. He loves children and whenever he isn't working, is most often seen around them, with any child smaller than him climbing all over him. He often plays with them as well when he has the time, as well as tell them stories and teaching them all he has learned throughout the years. And should any misbehave or bully each other, he is quick to reprimand them and make sure they learn their lesson, whether by being kind or harsh, not wishing for them to grow up cruel, or worse, misguided.

Another thing he loves is music. Though he cannot sing anymore, that has not stopped him from still enjoying playing instruments, seeing musicals and learning any and all music across the land. Music is his lifeline, a way to soothe his soul and to communicate with others besides his usual sign language because he can use familiar songs, stringing them together medleys to make wordless sentences. Music is his anchor to his past and memories and his way of making sure to move forward in honor of them.

Because the other thing precious to him are his family and friends. Unfortunately, because his first, and so far only, love was a pixie, it meant that he had outlived her, along with their adoptive child and her descendants. Not to mention the friends he's made over the years, seeing a majority of them were non-geists. He had to watch or hear of each of their deaths. Yet, where others would give themselves to despair or cynicism, it just made him appreciate his family and friends all the more, not wasting a single chance to spend time whenever they're free and making time for such things. He will always make sure to tell them how much they mean to him. But he knows they live their own lives and so doesn't control them, most notably with his "granddaughter" by ten generations, Tematia, as much as a part of him feels he should be protective of her considering her nature.

However, even with his nice demeanor, he is still very much like fire and he can get absolutely ruthless whenever he is angered, especially whenever it involves his family. Though he is not an individual who is easily angered, he is certainly more prone to it than most would expect a geist of his age and experience would be. Because for him, he will always follow his emotions, whatever they may be, and if he feels right in his anger, then he will be angry.

Not only that, he is stubborn once he sets his mind on something, refusing to budge even an inch, and always trying to find a way to do what he wants, whether that be something more noble like saving someone...to something more dubious like taking the life of someone he believes is better dead. This is particularly problematic when he's angry. It's not that he's inflexible, because he doesn't mind the "how" of whatever he's doing. The problem lies in that once he has a goal, decided on the "what", it is hard to change his mind and few have the honor of being able to calm the flames that are his emotions.

History: Long ago, there used to be a thriving island village in Nightgrave, in the coast of what is now the known as the Bay of Fear. But it was not known as the Bay of Fear back then. It was simply Night Village, called so for the village filled with geists who worshipped the night and all its stars. It was here that he was born to two geists who were rather young to be parents by most geists, about a year after his older brother, Anestel.

From the moment he was born, Teltel, then just simply known as Bebeltel, was treated as someone special. For one, he was born an elemental and thus gained the respect of all the geists in the village. For two, his body bonded with the village's most sacred treasure, an ancient white lyre said to have belonged to the founder of the village. He might as well have been outright worshipped as that mindset would mean they waited hand and foot to the little elemental, even his own parents. But somehow, that didn't get into his head, just merely enjoying the attention and care.

Instead, he soon found his love of music and the village, if it was possible, grew to praise him even more as he was the most talented musician and singer the village had ever seen, using his totem to play music for any and all the songs he sang. But if there was one person he loved to sing for the most was his older brother, Anestel. His brother was the one he would show each of his newest pieces first, and one of, if not only, one to criticize his work so he can improve, for he was a lover of music as well.

However, as time went on, Anestel became more distant and Teltel would keep trying to reconnect with him, but his attempts were always rebuffed. This confused and saddened him greatly, but the villagers, even his own parents, could care less about his behavior, saying Anestel was the one in the wrong for ignoring him, that he was a freak for not realizing his greatness. This upset and angered him to the point that he told them to not treat him like that, which made them all surprised and apologetic.

It just made Anestel's actions hurt even more because one day, while composing on the outskirts of the town, his brother asked him to hear a new piece he had composed and wanted to perform it over the nearby cliff side. Teltel followed his brother...only to be violently attacked, his throat being damaged. In the midst of defending himself, and making sure Anestel didn't break his totem, he was thrown out to sea. How he survived, to this day he does not know except perhaps the wish of wanting to find out why his brother did that willing his body to stay alive.

When he woke, it was to see the faces of two Guild members, one a female pixie, the other a male one. It turned out he had ended up in a city of fairies in the Springwood, washing up from Greatfish Lake in Autumnia when they were on a Guild mission. They took care of him, healing his wounds, but weren't able to restore his voice, so communicating was a little slow as he could only speak through written words.

But soon he would come to call those two first pixies, Yusuna and Asuro, the female and male respectively, as his two closest friends. It was because of them, he recovered and decided to join the Guild to tag along with their adventures. Over time, he would see much of the north-eastern forest lands, gain his nickname of "Teltel" from Asuro, and would tell the two of his past. Of course, when he did, they wished to take him back there to settle things straight, even if he ultimately wanted to stay with them.

So they went to a town in the Bay of Hope...to hear that the bay on the nearby island that he had once called home was now known as the Bay of Fear and none would dare let them passage, even if they were Guild members. It was said that some monster had made itself home there, as none of the ships that previously sailed there never returned. Teltel knew, even if there was no proof, that the monster's identity was once his brother.

So with a request for several Guild members, especially one who was a sailor, they set out to the Bay of Fear and, as Teltel thought, encountered the shadow of a geist he knew as his brother. The battle was surprisingly hard fought, destroying quite a bit of the landscape in the process and Yusuna having a close scrape with death, but they succeeded, though his brother's body was buried in rock and debris. Now, Teltel's past was laid to rest, and they placed graves for his destroyed home and its inhabitants, including Anestel for he still thought of him as his brother.

And it was because of Yusuna nearly dying during the battle that he decided to confess to her that he had fallen for her.

He knew it was stupid. They were different races after all. It would be fleeting for him and she deserved someone other than him, who would outlive her and couldn't even give her children. So he didn't expect Yusuna to not only accept his feeling, but to reciprocate them. And that was immediately followed by their best mutual friend saying he saw it a mile away and finally glad they got together.

And they did indeed stay together. Not just the two of them, but Asuro as well. And Asuro being Asuro, they travelled quite across the land, beyond the wooded lands of the north-east that was Asuro and Yusuna's home. And though he and his now-wife (thanks again to their mutual friend and thus Teltel gaining a "family name" from Yusuna) didn't necessarily flaunt their relationship, they didn't hide either, even if it was found to be idiotic for a geist or odd for a pixie. It didn't matter to either of them.

And though they could not have children, the couple did adopt a young pixie, orphaned from monsters killing her birth parents. It was at this time they settled down in one area with a Guild. They had decided Estvalm since Asuro wanted to stay there as well. And so they raised the little pixie as their own as they did Guild requests, with Asuro being the "uncle" in all but name, and Teltel soon watched as his daughter too fell in love, but this time with a fellow pixie, so she had children of her own.

But his time with his wife, Yusuna, and his good friend, Asuro, was nearing its end and he had been afraid. But once again, his wife, his ever loving wife, reminded him he wasn't alone, he still had their daughter, their grandchildren, and Asuro's family, And she could rest in peace knowing he could keep an eye on them. So he promised he would.

He watched his family and Asuro's throughout the centuries, each generation after his grandchild and his friend's affectionately calling him "Grandpa Teltel", no matter the number of generations. Many of them staying in Estvalm, but just as many leaving for wider pastures or moving in with their love. And, as much as it hurt that his wife passed away, and each generation of his family afterwards one at a time, the feeling of watching his family improve the world around them and getting to watch each one grow would always be more than enough to offset it, as well as doing his bit to make the world a safer place.

Which leads us to now, where only one family of Hycinthius remain in Estvalm, his great-granddaughter by nine-generations, Vivis, her husband, their daughter, Tematia, and him, helping to take care of her in the same house he had built for his beloved Yusuna on the outskirts of Estvalm, close to Frogsong Forest. Most of the other of the Hycinthius family being spread across the continent. Just a few months earlier, they received news from relatives in Autumnia that Vivis's brother was found dead, his killer unknown, and a few weeks after that, news from the Springwood told them a cousin of Vivis by several degrees was also found dead. If it had been any other time, he would simply grieve and once again rue fate for killing his family...

...but with the winds becoming colder, the days closer resembling the night and monsters spreading farther than any time in his life, he knows something is wrong, and that perhaps the deaths are not coincidence, especially considering he and many other veterans were called to Grand Capital to help for whatever reason. For once, he declined, seeing as many others would go and that left few Platinum ranked members in Estvalm.

Guild Rank: Platinum - Ruby, Emerald and Quartz (for lack of a better word, it's given to those for more humanitarian achievements)
Job: Bodyguard; entertainer; nanny
With his status as an elemental, and a geist, he is often asked to be a bodyguard for a many nobles and influential beings, as he can easily hide himself from would-be assassins to draw them out and more than likely annihilate them.
Thanks to his love of music, he has gained a reputation to be a rather good musician and is often asked to be a performer for many kinds of gatherings.
And lastly, his favorite job, is being a nanny (as well as what we would today call a social worker). He is unofficially a caretaker part of Estvalm's orphanage, being asked to take the place of any staff that needs or wishes a break from their work. He also helps in making sure they are educated and fine loving families to be adopted into.
Weapons: His totem, as mentioned, is an old white lyre, itself enchanted with runes to last longer than it would. As a totem should, it keeps his magic in check and prevents him from unintentional casting while also letting him cast spells through it.
Skills: As an elemental of fire, his magic is best in any aspects involving it.

His most used "magic" is him controlling his skin temperature and playing other instruments in addition to his lyre. In the case of the former, the hotter he makes himself, the brighter his marks glow. He likes to use this to keep others warm with cuddles. It's one of his favorite things to do with the children of the orphanage. This one is usually done with whistling in a specific way to redirect the mana within him and around him to change his body temperature. In the case of the latter, he can control up to five other instruments, in a similar manner to how he commands nature, with a combination of his lyre and whistles to make the other instruments "dance" for him.

When in combat, he mainly fights with speed and magic like many geists, moving with a grace befitting of someone who performs music. Unlike some geists though, he always stays as far as possible from opponents since he has no weapons for close combat and his hands are filled with his lyre, his totem and main conductor of magic. And that he is very fragile to actual physical hits, hence why he wears light armor just in case.

With his lyre, he can fight through manipulating the environment, making them "dance" to his music in a radius of about fifteen feet and the faster he plays, the more frantic the movements. However, it has a high chance of hitting teammates if they're not careful, as well as causing massive collateral damage through shaking earth, so his main way of offense with magic is creating and controlling flames, which he has more control over, partially from being an elemental of fire. He can also do quick fireball shots through whistling as well.

Like other geists, he can hide his form when staying still, becoming almost a shadow. Though, of course, it's easiest whenever he hides somewhere actually dark. He's also very fit from having travelled a lot before and maintaining it thanks to the requests he does.

He is very experienced and skilled in performing music on his lyre, knowing a wide variety of songs, both of his own and over his lifetime, as well as playing several kinds of instruments, though he's best at the lyre. He's also very good in dancing, knowing just as many styles from across the land as his music to pair with it as his solo performances often involve him doing both.

And lastly, he knows quite a bit on flowers, plant-life and nature in general thanks to his close ties with pixies. He is also generally good with other people, especially children, from his experience as both father and grandfather to his long and extensive family, as well as his long life and meeting many others of different races and ages.

Fairy
Name:
Tematia "Tia" Hycinthius
Age: 8
Gender: Female
Sub-race: Pixie

Appearance: Tia is just slightly shorter than average in height, standing at about two feet and eight inches. Her emerald eyes are large and child-like though with a fire burning behind them, with her wings are transparent and round like a bee's, often fluttering faster whenever she's excited or pumped up. Her build is thin and surprisingly muscular for a little pixie, but she takes pride in that. Her hair, a mute red, is kept short and for the most part well groomed, though it's just as often seen messy from work and exertion.

For attire, it looks like she never changes but in truth, it's just that her wardrobe is pretty much all the same. She wears a simple backless cotton grey shirt and tight brown pantaloons. If she was any other pixie, she would be barefoot since they can float indefinitely, but on her feet, she wear shoes with metal soles for maximum damage with kicks, and that's just the start. She wears protective gloves that allows her to punch without worrying too much about self-bruising, and, most notably, she has a two cutlasses, one on each side, with dagger under her cutlass on her right, all sized for her height, on her leather brown belt.

Personality: If Grandpa Teltel can be compared to a lantern, Tia is like a torch. She is a fiery little pixie with a aggressiveness than seems more fitting with a Drake than anything else, speaking rough and simple with plenty of swearing when the occasion calls for it. She's always willing to help but is pretty reckless about it, usually not thinking through on what's exactly the best way to help, sometimes making the situation worse, which has gotten her into plenty of trouble in her short life.

But she does mean well, having greatly inspired by her "Grandpa Teltel" and the stories of his adventures and her various ancestors, aspiring to be just like them: a courageous and powerful Guild member who helps those in need. As such, she is trying, almost a bit too hard, to make a name for herself, taking on as many requests she can so she can rise through the ranks and take on more important and dangerous tasks. And if she puts her mind to it, the more mischievous nature of pixies come to light in the form of her trying to exploit other's "weaknesses", for lack of a better word, to get what she wants. But with said demeanor, and her inexperience, means, more often than not, her "cunning plans" typically fail, especially with older races.

Though her want to be a Guild member is mostly because she wants to help others and feels this is the best way to do it, it is also in part to wanting to live up to Grandpa Teltel's legacy, as well as many other Hycinthius family members who were part of the Guild over the centuries. Yes, she knows she doesn't need to. Her parents, extended family and Grandpa Teltel tell her that, especially Grandpa Teltel. But she can't help herself. Deep down, despite their acceptance of her and being close to them, particularly Grandpa, she feels insecure that somehow, despite being a pixie, her magic is only average by human standards and below average, if not terrible, by fairy standards. As such, insulting her skills in magic, or her capabilities in general, is a sore spot for her and she will lash out, especially her close-combat skills, the only thing she truly feels she's good at. This also applies to any insults towards Grandpa Teltel as she views him as the greatest Guild member to have ever lived.

But despite her insecurities, or rather because of them, she keeps pushing herself to get better each and everyday. Though of course, she's about as stubborn as Grandpa in that regard, because, as one might expect, she's not the brightest pixie in the world. She's a bit slow in learning things that don't interest her, the only thing she has extensive knowledge on being melee weapons of various kinds, from the typical swords and lances to more rare forms like brass knuckles and kusanaragi. It takes a while for her to realize what exactly she's doing wrong, both in what she's doing and in her behavior, and do something to fix it, especially since she takes a lot of things literally. Or, if she does realize what's wrong, take a while to actually find the way to fix it. As such, and as mentioned, she takes pride in her above average physical capabilities for a pixie, and is very disciplined in her practices and exercises, training every single day. Now if only she could apply that to other areas...

History: Though she's only been around for eight years, those eight years have been pretty eventful as far as she's concerned, especially considering she was born to the Hycinthius family, a family of pixies that have lived in Estvalm for almost three hundred years, with the oldest being the very husband of the first Hycinthius to live here, the geist, Bebeltel, simply known to everyone else as Grandpa Teltel.

Though her parents weren't Guild members, Grandpa certainly was and she grew up wanting to hear as many of his stories she could, as well as tag along with him whenever he goes to the Guild hall or the orphanage. She absolutely loved hearing all of his accomplishments and early on, Tia decided she will become a Guild member as soon as possible and practiced everyday for it.

However, she soon learned that she wasn't quite in tune with magic as most pixies should. That absolutely devastated the little pixie as she always wished to be just like Grandpa Teltel in the way he had nature dance to his magic music, and made the notes burn and flare to life. It didn't help that the few fairy children she knew of called her a freak for it. What else could a fairy who wasn't in tune with magic could be? But of course, Grandpa Teltel and her parents were quick to help her with that, along with advice from the rest of the Hycinthius members across the land, and they found she could do magic...just a lot more limited than most.

So to compensate for that, and to use what magic she could do to its advantage, she turned to martial arts and weapons...and to her surprise, she became quite fascinated with all the techniques needed to be done in order to do the various forms, use the various kinds of weapons, and make said weapons in good quality. So as far as she was concerned, she found her calling and was grateful to her family for helping her. Of course, she still got called a freak by the more prejudiced beings, and her insecurities have already taken root, but that made her all the more determined to push through.

Finally, when she was seven, she was able to become a Guild member and she immediately went to work, alongside her Granpda Teltel whenever she could convince him to let her join him on his missions. She can't wait until she can finally go on her own, make a name for herself and maybe even see the rest of the world that Grandpa always talks about.

Normally, she wouldn't let the fact that things seem to be getting darker and more dangerous to get her down, but with two of her uncles dead, and Grandpa Teltel getting worried something's wrong, she can't help but feel at least a little bit worried too.

Guild Rank: Wood
Job: Helper; weapon specialist; courier
As a starting Guild member, Tia has yet to have any specializations, just helping however she can and taking on any missions her rank will allow. As well as any mission she can convince her grandpa to let her join in on the mission he's doing.
Despite that, she's slowly gaining a reputation to have extensive knowledge on weapons, but she's still learning.
As well as being a good courier since she can make any object she hold stronger without actually changing its properties...too much.
Weapons: Unsurprisingly, as someone who prides over her strength and her knowledge on weapons, she owns a variety of weapons, including, but not limited to, bows, lances, axes, swords, whips, and maces. However, what she typically carries are her aforementioned dagger and a cutlasses.
Skills: Unlike most pixies, her magic is below average, or rather, it's very specialized. Whereas others can control and/or create elements, or even lift objects, her magic enhances her physical capabilities and any weapon or object she gets her hands on.

With her build, she's already strong for a pixie, but with her magic, whenever she focuses it, she can enhance her strength to be comparable to a drake's, not to mention her combining it with her speed. She's trained, both self-taught and learning from the few willing to teach a pixie, to fight in close combat and with various weapons, though her actual experience in fighting is currently limited to the occasional monster, her reflexes are sharp and eyes ever observant. She is also best at using her swords and her bow and arrow than any other weapon.

With her magic, anything, and as in anything, she gets her hands on can be enhanced as well to be much stronger and harder than they're supposed to be. It's especially helpful with her weapons and any packages she carries. In the case of the former, it usually means that in a steel-on-steel clash, unless it's also enchanted or similarly reinforced, her weapons are most likely to break her opponent's. In the case of the latter, it helps with making sure the package is safe and unharmed, whatever it might be. However, the only catch is that it only works for as long as she's holding it.

As such, her main way of fighting is getting up close and using her size and speed to her advantage so she can avoid hits and land rather strong blows for her size, from both her strength and the momentum from her speed. Unfortunately, because of said specialized magic, the only way she can fight long-ranged is a bow and arrow, which isn't often.
 
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Schade

Metallic Wonder
I've finished my SU. Let me know if there is anything that needs to be changed.
 

TheSequelReturns

Faithful Crusader
@storymasterb: Second character looks good. I like the concept of taking a dharma, typically known for being slow to act, and sending them on a personal path of action.

That said, Aali Tahir, the Dharma tengu from Alshams, the cleric on a path of vengeance, is hereby Accepted into the Guild.

@TheCharredDragon: With three characters, you have the current high score. Jokes aside, this is an interesting duo you've got here. And I appreciate the creative effort with regards to the histories. You've also hit the right note with regards to the odd relationship. Places near the center of the continent where there is more blending of cultures and races tend to count things like that as a given, while places in the more traditional homelands of each race (humans and geists aside as they are scattered about) tend to find it stranger.

With regards to the elemental geist's totem, typically the actual substance of the totem has an effect on how the geist aligns with the magic. For example, a geist who's totem is a tree branch will become physically attuned to magic relating to plants or nature. However, as your totem is a special relic, I can see how it would still work with what you've got.

tldr, no worries.

That said, Bebeltel "Teltel" Hycinthius, the Bard of Flames, elemental geist from Night Village, man of few words but many emotions, is hereby Accepted into the Guild.

Additionally, Tematia "Tia" Hycinthius, Valm-native pixie and Guild newcomer, fairy with the fire of a drake, is hereby Accepted into the Guild.

@Schade: Looks good. I feel obligated to let you know that there are quite a few spelling mistakes, but as everything you wrote was quite legible its nothing to fret over. I like the details you included about the armor and what creatures it was made from.

That said, Araerearara, the undine from Sibling's Bay, scout of both dangers and valuables alike, is hereby Accepted into the Guild.

Here's our current standings:

Accepted:
Grace Clemens, female human
Layla, female geist
Bjorne Kjarr, male titan
Thilfey, female geist
Aali Tahir, male tengu (Dharma)
"Teltel" Hycinthius, male geist (Elemental)
"Tia" Hycinthius, female pixie
Araerearara, male undine

Reserves:
One male drake (highborn)
One female undine
Two male humans
One male fairy (spriggan)
One female tengu (dharma)
 

Solsabre

The Reforged Soul
Drake

Name: Windrush 'Windy' The Windless, formerly known as Terror of the Skies or The Sun's Shadow
Age: 28
Gender: Male
Caste: Highborn

Appearance: Windrush stands above average at 6’ 11”, not including the height of his horns or the upper reach of his wings, when folded on his back. His horns are long and spiral. (much like those of the greater kudu). His body is very tone and muscular. His scales are mostly black with red splotch patterns across his body and a red-vein pattern webbed across his wings. His face and snout are mostly black with a red ‘face mask’ going across his eyes and down the side of his face. His tail is most black scales, but a thick streak of red runs down the dorsal ridge. At the end of his tail is a black, barbed spike. His eyes are a golden yellow.

Windrush has two styles of clothing. The first is his everyday guild uniform. He wears a very bland brown long-sleeved tunic and loose fitting gray breeches that stop at his knees. Tarnished gray metal greaves and gauntlets cover his lower legs and forearms. These pieces are very beaten up and dented and his clothing is often stained and littered with poor patch jobs. He keeps his thighs and upper armors unprotected for greater range of movement. He wears no helmet. Sometimes, he wears a plain brown overcoat with a hood (slots in the back for his horns). Windrush also uses a dark brown bandolier that goes across his waist with a single strap that goes across his chest and over his shoulder to carry his pole ax.

The other set is his gladiatorial gear. He wears a long, sleeveless, burgundy tunic that reaches down to his knees and flares out at the waist. The tunic has copper trimming and decorations. A matching belt and loincloth wrap around his waist. Dark brown breeches fit loosely from his waist and go done to his knees. Windrush also has burgundy/copper greaves, gauntlets, and helmet. A higher quality bandolier holsters his magical pole-ax, The Stormblade, to his back, along with several other weapons he keeps attached to his belt. He keeps an obsidian dagger behind each of his greaves. He does not use this gear for Guild work, though it is of far greater quality and much better cared for.

Underneath his tunics, Windrush wears a leather brace that completely covers his right shoulder, upper part of his right arm, and base of his right wing. He can adjust various straps on it to support the shoulder joint and minimize stress on the damaged muscles, when he must stretch and move the wing and connected flight muscles or use his right arm extensively.

Windrush's face
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Windrush's horns

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Gladiator Clothing Concept with Burgundy/Copper instead of blue
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Personality: Windrush was proud, arrogant, vain, attention seeking, highly competitive, very athletic, and very self-absorbed. However, he does not pretend to be the same drake he was four years ago. The humiliation of becoming flightless wounded his Highborn pride, becoming very a ill-tempered and irritable individual. He has no friends, nor does he want any. Windrush just wants to be left the hell alone. He can very lazy at times and only do something if it will benefit himself. He’s become self-loathing and has little self-respect for his appearance and bad habits. He has very poor manners, even to clients, and so he seldom gets requests for jobs.

Even, if someone were take pity or reach out to him, more than likely he’d lash out verbally (maybe even to the point of physical). He can very sarcastic and scathing with his words, as he is a very bitter person. When he starts drinking, he becomes more irrational and prone to getting into fights. He can get in over his head in a fight, but he’ll take down as many opponents as possible before he does. The drake refuses to backdown or yield in a fight, even if he’s cornered. He’ll keep fighting until he comes out the victor, no longer can move, or unconscious. He also refuses to let anyone hear him scream in pain if an opponent does get the better of him.

Windrush has a high pain tolerance, but even the constant throbbing and jolting spikes of pain from his injury, day in and day out, has worn down his endurance. So, he drowns himself in alcohol to numb the chronic pain in his shoulder and wing joint for release. His drunkenness and hungover state also help to hide the fact that he cannot fly. He’s not proud of what he’s become, but his drake stubbornness still runs strong. Being labeled a lazy drunkard pales in comparison to the humiliation truth that he is earthbound. He will do whatever he can to hide the truth of his flightlessness.

If one can succeed in getting Windrush to sober up and get serious, the former champion is a force to be reckoned with. He’s spent his entire life training in and for the gladiator ring with various weapons and combat styles, physical and magical. Windrush is also a skilled Castor, when his mind isn’t hungover or muddled. He is much sharper in mind and wit than his current state leads others to believe with the education of a Highborn drake. When Windrush is in more control of himself, this disciplined drake warrior becomes more apparent. The old Windrush is also honorable. He won’t fight an opponent that is unarmed or is down for the count. He views his glory days as though it was lived by someone else. Windrush does not feel he is worthy to wear his Gladiator armor and weapons as he is.

While it is highly unlikely for anyone to convince Windrush to try, he can glide down from a high point for a short distance, but it would be very painful during the attempt.

In short, Windrush is a miserable individual that got dealt a low blow and not trying to help himself to improve his situation. He is simply getting by in a life that one would not call truly living.

History: Windrush was adopted into a Noble House after he emerged from his egg with wings. As a Highborn drake, Windrush led a very privileged life and wanted for nothing. He could have chosen any path in life with the best education and resources available to him. However, Windrush shared no interest for politics or scholarly pursuits, rather he was a natural athlete and basked in the attention his achievements brought him. He trained, he fought, and learned from his mistakes in the sparring circuits of competing drakes from a young age.

As Windrush got older and his wings stronger, he joined the Aerial Combative Arts League and proved his worth as adept and skilled flier, living up to his name. Growing up, there was also another Highborn Drake following up the ranks at Windrush’s heels. The pair were rivals, constantly facing off in matches of strength and skill. They were evenly matched.

At the age of 18, after two years in the ACAL, the pair faced off once again in a final champion match. The winner would move on to the Gladiatorial Ring at the Argona Mesa to be protege to the reigning Champion, a coveted position. They fought in the air, on the ground. However, Windrush defeated his rival soundly by incorporating a new weapon he’d been training to use in secret, a long chain with a weight on one end and a short sickle blade on the other. With the weighted end of the chain, Windrush managed to snag his rival’s foot mid-air, pull the chain, and drive the opposing drake to the ground in submission. Windrush won the match and his rival left the arena bitter with defeat.

Windrush trained under the Champion of the Ring, Okos, for several years and participated in various gladiatorial matches and games. From those losses, he learned how to incorporate magic into his fighting style to increase his capabilities as a warrior. Most drakes, that incorporate magic, rely on channeling magic through an object or weapon, but Windrush made a point of learning the basics of chanting spells as well.

When Windrush was 21, he stood across the Argona Mesa against Okos, challenging the older drake for the Champion’s title. The fight was fierce and quite bloody. Spectators roared with excitement, when the drake left standing was Windrush and the Sandsea’s new Champion. With his Victory, he was awarded a magical pole-ax, The Stormblade, to match his weapon of choice. (Every first time Champion was awarded the prize of a magical weapon in their honor).

In the years to follow, Windrush defended his title as the Sandsea Champion, reveling in the glory and status. He earned the titles ‘Terror of the Skies’ and ‘The Sun’s Shadow’ for he was a dark and imposing silhouette against the harsh sun over head and imitating whenever he prepared to divebomb his opponents in the air. Until one day, three years later, his rival from the ACAL once again stood across the mesa from him.

The pair flew high into the heavens, higher than most fights went. Windrush and his rival’s weapons clashed, flying in tight circles around one another. Lightning flew from the Stormblade and clipped the rival’s wing. However, the opposing drake feigned the injury worst than it was and collided midair with Windrush. Caught off guard, Windrush didn’t realize until it was too late that his bitter rival pulled a hidden dagger from his armor and stabbed Windrush in the back of his right shoulder. The pain was immense, Windrush dislodged himself quickly and began a barely controlled descent back to the mesa. His rival wasn’t finished yet with Windrush and immediately dived after him. They were nearly to the mesa floor, when the challenger collided once more into Windrush’s backside and both crashed into the ground. Windrush fought the scream that threatened to tear from his throat. To make matter worst, his rival pressed down harder with the dagger into Windrush’s back, demanding he yield the match. Windrush refused, even as the dagger torn into his flight muscles and ligaments. Finally, the pain reached the point that Windrush simply passed out.

Later on, Windrush woke up in the Arena’s infirmary two days later. His right shoulder heavily bandage, wing wrapped carefully to his body for support, and arm in a sling. The Arena was quiet; the crowds had already left since the Games had ended. Officials spoke to Windrush regarding his side of the match, since there had been suspicious for dishonorable and underhanded tactics and Windrush could press for investigating if he wished. However, two days had passed since the match had ended and drake society was already celebrating it’s new Champion and Windrush didn’t are about any of that. No, his main concern was whether or not his shoulder injury would heal. ( The Arena healers had used a healing spell to close the surface injury, but underestimated the seriousness of the wound. The damaged flight muscles and ligaments would end up with heavy scarring due to being left untreated. Drake aren't known for their healing magic, which unfortunately can lead to mistakes in oversight)

Unfortunately, Windrush found he could not fully extend his right wing outward, much less flap it with the strength needed to clear the ground. The former champion roared in frustration and resumed training to strength the damaged flight muscles. However, every attempt to use the wing left him in excruciating pain. Windrush’s struggles did not go missed by the other Gladiators. Many started to mockingly call him, Windrush The Windless or Terror of the Dust Mites. The names and mockery continued for several months, until Windrush simply left the Mesa in the during the night. He could no longer take the humiliation of being no more than a Lowborn with wings. He traveled across the desert on foot. He moved only at night, to lessen the chances of Highborn drakes spotting him from the air.

Windrush The Sun’s Shadow and Terror of the Skies was forgotten, yesterday’s news. Sometimes, other drakes would recognize him and called to him to get a reaction, but the former champion just got up and left. With no other place to go or purpose, Windrush joined a Guild Hall somewhere in the Central Great Plains. Jobs involving monster slaying were easy enough for the former champion to keep himself sustained with shelter and the basics. However, Windrush was becoming more bitter and sullen with how far he’d fallen. He fell into a life of being plain misery and doing only the minimal to get by. He developed a terrible drinking habit that often got in the way of him completely his jobs or he’d make up excuses for not taking jobs that might reveal he couldn’t fly.

Over the next four years, Windrush was kicked out of several Guild Halls for his lack of professionalism and poor performance. Eventually, he stumbled his way into the quiet region of Valm. By some miracle, Estvalm’s Guildmaster, Durmmond, accepted Windrush’s request of transfer to the Guild Hall. The shrewd Guildmaster didn’t ask question regarding the drake’s past and stated that the titan owner of Dust End Mine need someone to periodically clear the mine and surrounding area of minor monsters and nuisances. Windrush agreed to the work and became the guild’s regular for that contract work.

So, for the next two years, Windrush went about the same routine of clearing out Dust End Mine and then spending the rest of the time holed up in his room or passed out drunk at the guild hall or local tavern. His miserable and drunken state would worsen and he’d get into fights with lowlifes and thugs. While the drake was not very coordinated, he still could put up a good fight. Unfortunately, his less than savory reputation didn’t put him in the good graces with a lot of people, keeping the drake stuck at a stone rank. Durmmond tried to assigned Windrush to other types of jobs to see what the drake could or would do, but it usually ended in disaster and collateral damage.

Time wore on and nights began to get colder, darker, and longer.

The Guild sent out several of their highest rank members to Bastion at the request of the The People’s Champion, leaving the Guild temporary short-handed. Durmmond finally gave Windrush an ultimatum.

Get his scaly rear in gear and take on more responsibility or leave.

Windrush was less than thrilled, but he had no where else to go. However, he wasn’t expecting to get a babysitter in the form of Decorated Platinum Rank, Bjorne Kjarr, to keep him in line.

Guild Rank: Stone
Job: Vermin Slayer (former Gladiator Champion)
Weapons: (Armed to the Teeth)

Pole-ax - Windrush’s signature weapon. He actually has two pole axes. One is a regular everyday, plain and worn, pole ax with a silver blade attached. The other is the magically imbued ‘Stormblade’, that he earned upon becoming the Sandsea Champion. It’s been crafted of highly refined metals for both the staff and blade. the staff is made of titanium and the blade of Adamantium. Along the length of the staff, an inscription reads “Only the Worthy may wield the Storm’s Fury”. Windrush can channel mana through the pole ax for various effects.

1. Twirling the pole ax at a certain velocity triggers the creation of a strong whirlwind and lasts for as long as the user can maintain the motion.
2. A short electrical discharge emits from the blade upon impact with a surface, both injuring and stunning a target.
3. The user can charge up the blade to release a more powerful lightning attack before impact. This of course takes longer to power up.

He keeps either Pole-ax attached to a bandolier on his back between his wings. He refuses to use the Stormblade on the weaker vermin of Dust End Mine and usually keeps it stored away and carefully hidden in his quarters.

Kusarigama - Windrush uses the Kusarigama for its versatility and for grappling an opponent to bring closer to him or swing around into the terrain. (A long thin chain with a weight on one end and a sickle-like blade attached to the other end.) He keeps this weapon looped like a lasso to his belt. He takes it with him on most missions. No magical properties.

Stunbolts - Hidden within his gladiatorial guantlets, are spring-loaded bolts that can fire as far as most crossbows, if a bit shorter. Each bolt is imbued with lightning magic to release a short, electrical discharge to stun or hindered the intended target. These bolts must be prepared ahead of time and are of limited quantities. Also very useful for hunting purposes, but generally his Gladiator armor remains hidden in his quarters.

Kama - a short-handled, sickle-like weapon that can be wielded in close quarters. Windrush keeps two of these tuck in his belt on his backside. No magical properties. He occasionally brings these on mission with him.

Obsidian dagger - A mocking memento from his rival following Windrush’s lost. He always wears this in a sheath at his hip, opposite hip from the Kusarigama. He also has two regular daggers hidden behind his greaves.

Barbed Tail - At the end of his tail is a barbed spike, he often follows up a strike of his pole ax with a swipe of his tail to deal further damage to a monster or target.

Gladiator Armor - Custom-made Armor for Sandsea Champion (see appearance for full description), The most skilled Blacksmiths and Weavers craft the armor and cloth to be resistance to damage from weapons and fire. He hasn’t worn this armor, since his Champion days. He maintains it with period care and respect, but refuses to wear it otherwise.

Skills: (Keep in mind, some of skills are only available to him, when he’s at the top of his game and not clouded with alcohol.)

Magic -While he can channel lightning and wind magic from his pole-ax and stunbolts. He can also cast ‘spoken’ magic to form a fireball in the palm of his hand and throw. He can create the fire from without a source, but generally he wears two metal rings on his fingers to snap together and create the spark needed for the spell. For a more powerful spell, he’ll cup a small fireball between both hands in front of his snout, speak the incantation, and exhale deeply on the fireball to create a powerful stream of fire in a forward direction. However, this version of the spell can be extremely draining, depending on how long Windrush chooses to maintain it. Either way, he is left momentarily winded, until he can regain his strength again.

Stubbornness - Windrush is a drake and thus notoriously stubborn. He is the first to jump into a fight and the last one to stop.

High pain tolerance and Stamina - Typically speaking, Windrush can fight through most pain and injuries. His shoulder injury is just so hindering and aching non-stop that it does get the better of him in a prolonged fight, but he won’t stop fighting until he is the victor, passes out from pain, or a teammate forcibly drags him away (most likely to be Bjorne to do this).

Combat intuition/situational awareness - (sigh) When Windrush isn’t a drunken and lazy lump on the floor, his combat instincts are on alert for the first sign of danger. He knows how to analyze an opponent for weaknesses and how to use the environment to his advantage.

Flight - ???

Other:
- Other guild members often refer to Windrush as ‘Windy’. Windrush complains loudly when they do, but it’s hardly the worst thing he’s been called over the years.

-Windrush is a south paw, which means he can use weapons proficiently with both hands. However, since he injured his right and dominant shoulder, Windrush tends to fight left handed most of the time as extended use of his right arm is painful. He’ll still use his right hand for everyday tasks though.

- Windrush has the potential to be easily be a Silver-rank or higher. However, his work ethic and unprofessional attitude prevent him from advancing beyond Stone-rank. He might have been kept at Wood-rank, but Durmmond felt it was too embarrassing for the Guild Hall to have a Highborn Drake stuck that low.
 
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Kamotz

God of Monsters
Name: Lance Donovan
Age: 30
Gender: Male
Appearance: Lance is rather tall, standing over six and-a-half feet. He's well built, with broad shoulders and well-defined muscles. His body is powerful but lean, emphasizing muscle tone over muscle size. Indeed, Lance's body looks and feels almost like it was chiseled out of stone or forged from steel. His inherent proclivity for magic means that his body is more resilient, and more resistant to injury and fatigue than a human of similar size and build. Due to the advanced healing he receives from the Guild and other healers, Lance's injuries are almost non-existent, though he still carries many various-sized scars.

Lance's facial features are strong and defined, almost predatory in nature. He has a thick head of brown-black hair; he's allowed it to grow out on his travels and it now hangs well-past his shoulders; it's now long enough for him to tie back in a low ponytail, though a few loose long strands hang in front of his face.

The most stunning part of Lance's physiology are the intricate and interweaving series of tattoos over his entire body. Most of the time they're hardly noticeable, almost invisible - barely even there. However during states of heightened aggression or extremely arduous use of magic the tattoos become bolder and darker, and even begin to glow red. Lance's other physical characteristics also undergo similar alterations during these states. First and foremost, his hair changes color, turning a blinding platinum, white-gold color. His eyes turn entirely black, while his irises glow a hellish fiery orange-red.

Lance doesn’t wear any one outfit all the time, but is known to wear a layer of basic black leather clothes with a high gold-trimmed collared shirt, and a flexible armor chest-plate beneath a black, armor-reinforced, leather trench-coat, with metal plating on the shoulders and forearms. Slits in the lower half of the coat are there to not hinder his flexibility. He wears a pair of leather sword-belts on his waist.

Personality: Lance is a rather unique character. He clearly enjoys his power and its uses; coming from a background in which his defining trait was his weakness, he sees the great power now afforded to him as a blessing.

He is cunning, calculating, and deadly. He's self-serving and selfish. He has dedicated his existence to following his whims, and this easy life of pleasure has brought him detachment and easy confidence. He has become a sort of bon vivant, seeking novelty and new diversions. But despite his fundamentally hedonistic nature, Lance does feel the pull of more lasting concerns, and over his long life this tendency has resulted in an arcane schedule of engagements and forays to far-flung places. As a result, Lance is a busy man, traveling frequently to pursue concerns known only to him. Lance always seems to have business elsewhere.

He's become a charmer and a smooth-talker in this time, he has a vicious way with words and a critical eye that combine to make him extremely competent at picking someone apart and deducing what makes them tick. His ability to analyze and dissect people and situations mentally, combined with his physical nature and magic proficiency have made him an incredibly deadly individual.

He plays the stoic as well as anyone, and plays it in earnest. He does, however, have a much more personable and outgoing side, which emerges when he is around those he trusts and respects most. His easy-going side also has a bit of a wild streak, and he's been known to raise a bit of hell from time to time and city to city. Lance relates to others as his playthings, as he's found few beings capable or worthy of gaining his respect. He's found immense pleasure in traveling the continent. Essentially, he's a narcissist, with an "I come first" sort of attitude. This is most apparent in his pursuit of women. He tends to seek out the nearest tavern and beautiful woman (or women if he can swing it). He's the ultimate lady-killer, using his good looks, charisma, charm, and status to win (and subsequently break) the hearts of women everywhere. He's a connoisseur of the one-night-stand and is prone to seducing women of nobility, "just for the challenge." But Lance's eye isn't for power; he appreciates beauty no matter what social class it's found in. He enjoys the perks of his status; especially the free drinks and attention it gets him from women.

Upon going into battle, however, Lance changes completely. He becomes like a machine, unceasing, unflinching, and unrelenting in his mission. He is no longer either stoic or laid-back, but determined and focused. He becomes something else entirely, and it is in this "something else" that his separation from humanity becomes most evident. Lance becomes vicious, ferociously efficient and brutal. In this mindset, it's clear that he's no longer truly human, that he is indeed an inhuman force, and it takes him some time to pull himself back from this state of hyper-awareness and hyper-lethality once his mission is complete.

"Hyper-lethal" is the most appropriate way of describing Lance. His true nature is that of a killer: unflinching determination and hedonism. Within him lurks his dark "other," a pseudo-aware aspect of his personality. This passenger drives him to fulfill the Hunger and the Need, the primal urges from deep within.

His revelry, womanizing, and overall hell-raising is actually a useful tool for his decompression, which is likely why the Guild has continually turned a blind eye towards his behavior, even when it caused them some embarrassment.

History: Lance remembers very little of his early childhood. From the age of five onwards, he was under the care of the "Order," a secret cabal funded by noble families who felt threatened by the power of the Guild and wanted a counter-force they could control. They organized this from a hidden compound in Evergreen Highlands.

Before that, however, Lance's first memory is one of complete and utter agony; of awakening screaming in pain; of something ripping over his entire body, searing itself into his skin and bones. Everything was fire. Then there was nothing. Just weightlessness; days of emptiness; complete silence and loneliness. Then pain again. And more fire; more screaming and ripping and searing. But this time, there was something else after. No more loneliness. No more silence. But a single sound; a low chuckle - a whisper. The Passenger. His Other. It was there that Lance's dark other took its first breath, born in fire and blood.

He awoke to find himself not-quite-alone, but confined to a dark cell, where he spent several days waiting and weakening due to lack of food and water. He wasn't there long; soon man came and brought him to the Order without any explanation. The five year old boy was concerned, but displayed no signs of fear.

Lance was brought into the "Order", and subjected to the rigors and difficulties they set up for him and the other children. Competition between the "students" was fierce. They were encouraged to hurt, maim, and even kill one another so they might get an extra portion of food that day. They were taught to be cunning and ruthless. They were taught all the arts of combat from the very first day, receiving training with all forms of weaponry and hand-to-hand combat.

At ten years old, Lance and the others were subjected to a series of experiments; alchemical treatments and magical concoctions designed to enhance the subject's physiology and capabilities. Of the hundred that underwent the procedures, only sixty survived alongside Lance. Future attempts to improve the success rate resulted in similar survival rates, and the "student" population dwindled rapidly. Lance and a few other select recruits were subjected to additional treatments as the instructors began conditioning the recruits to use magic. Lance showed a natural proficiency and began his training.

As part of the continually refined treatment, Lance was adorned with an intricate series of protective tattoos designed and modeled after Titan runes in order to bolster his resistance to the damage the treatment caused. This was done by placing a sharpened tattoo comb on the end of the stick, dipping the stick into the magically and alchemically- treated ink, placing the comb against the skin, and hitting the stick with a mallet to force the ink into the skin. Far from a quick or painless process, these tattoos took nearly three days to complete, stopping only for the tattoo-er to rest and eat. When completed and healed, much of Lance's body was covered. Then the visual sharpness of the tattoos was magically reduced over the course of another few weeks by slowly penetrating the ink down into his bones and veins while also lightening the pigmentation of it until the ink is activated by Lance's magic.

The Order suffered serious setbacks. The cruel regimen that the cadets were subjected to was simply too much for most of them. A majority either died from training accidents, consumption of said potions, or committed suicide. Many others were mentally unfit to rejoin active society and were shipped away to other parts of the continent. This left them with a mere thirty-six viable "students" -- or Slayers, as they came to be called.

At seventeen years old, Lance and the other Slayers were sent out across Caelocia in groups of two with an Order-appointed chaperone to test their field-readiness. With the intent of the Slayers to create a loyal, controllable task force under the control of the noble elite (and not the Guild), they set their Slayers out on missions that Guild members would otherwise have taken. The results were rather successful - no Slayers were lost in the field, while they (and thus the Order) remained entirely below the Guild's notice.

In the following years, however, the Order began to divide into several factions as they began competing and vying for control over the Slayers. In the midst of this, the Slayers gained an appreciation for life outside their role as glorified weapons that they experienced while traveling the continent. As the Order began increasing their fielding several of the Slayers started speaking about striking out on their own and living their own lives. Led by one of their own, half of the remaining thirty-six Slayers rose up and overthrew the Order's control over them. While the other half resisted at first and fought on the Order's side, they eventually turned on their masters.

With the Orders a mere shell of its former self and in ruins, the Slayers ventured out from Evergreen Highlands of their own accord, some together, some alone. They maintained the small Order fortress as their own and hid it through magical means only accessible to those thirty-six individuals.

At twenty-five years old, Lance struck out under his own autonomy for the first time he could remember. He journeyed with a few of his fellow Slayers for a few days before splitting off from them and continuing alone. While he initially spent some weeks attempting to acclimate to the mundane world beyond the Order and Slayers (paid for, of course, by the Order's raided coffers) he began to realize how out of the ordinary he was. He tried to form bonds with others and did everything he could to fit in, though it was almost completely on a very superficial level. It was there that he developed his outlook on life; he learned how to "enjoy" life, or at least appear as if he did. He developed his "charisma" hoping that it would help him to connect with someone.

But this did little to sate his boredom, and as the weeks wore on he found himself more inclined to listen to the urges of his dark other. To alleviate his boredom, he joined the Guild in Estvalm (and the irony wasn't lost on him), and offered up his services. He wasn't interested in climbing the ranks; just in ascending high enough to keep life interesting and himself paid, as his funds were beginning to run out and trips back to the Order Stronghold took quite a chunk out of his schedule.

On a particular expedition through the Whisperwood, he came across a rather interesting spriggan Guild member. And while he typically avoided any sort of genuine attempt at emotional connection (after any number of failed attempts), he found her intriguing. He assisted her on some Guild-related business and they formed a loose partnership...of sorts. For lack of a more descriptive term, they became "housemates."


Guild Rank: Silver
Job: Monster-Slayer, Mage-Slayer
Weapons:
The Voidblade - a longsword that has become attuned to his own flow of magic. In his normal mind frame, the blade glimmers bright silver, but as soon as he changes, so too does the blade. As the Passenger takes hold, his blade begins to turn black. The blade is etched with a type of magic rune that allows Lance to more easily channel magic through the blade. While most would typically utilize a sword like this most effectively with two hands, Lance's physical capabilities allow him to use the sword effectively with either hand or both.

Blackrazor - a shorter sword more akin to a gladius or a celtic leaf-bladed sword, with a flat blade wider at the tip than at the base. This sword has little-to-no guard, which gives Lance a wider range of motion and movements when using the smaller blade in more confined spaces. Like the Voidblade there are enhancement runes etched through the blood grooves on the blade, though they are less extensive.

Slayer Gauntlets - Lance's time with the Slayers also afforded him the chance to commission a pair of leather and steel gauntlets, the knuckles of which are plated with alchemically-treated silver and inlaid with offensive runes to amplify striking force and act as a pile-bunker.

Slayer Armor - Lance has a set of custom-made Slayer armor from his time with the Order. The armor is mostly leather and chainmail, though it is patterned and constructed more akin to modern body armor than medieval mail. It was designed to mimic the durable yet flexible scales of drakes. Additional metal filaments are woven into the joints, while many segmented plates are wrapped in the same metal-woven cloth and attached to the leather and chainmail.

Skills:
Enhanced Physiology: due to the alchemical potions, magical treatments, and mutagens he ingested as part of his time as a Slayer, his physical capabilities are greatly enhanced. These include (but aren't limited to) hardened bones, denser musculature, and enhanced flexibility and reflexes. Lance's resistance to poisons and diseases is also greatly enhanced to the point that he is nearly immune to most known toxins. He heals at a much higher rate than humans, though not as fast as those using magic to heal themselves. His senses are also sharpened.

Swordsmanship: though he trained with practically every weapon commonly used, Lance has a special affinity for bladed weapons and especially swords. His fighting style consists of both heavy and light blows, although he prefers to use quick, yet deadly attacks.

Combat Expertise: Even though Lance mostly uses swords, he also knows how to use most, if not all, weapons, including axes, picks, slingshots and bows. He is also capable of proficiently fighting without his weapons. He is capable of exploiting pressure points and joint locks to his advantage. Years of relentless training have honed Lance into a deadly combatant.

Magic: Lance's main magical proficiency is for Sangromancy, the magic of blood, a dark corner of specialization. With this blood magic he can drain the life force of other beings, place curses on enemies, and even possess the minds and bodies of others. One of his favorite methods of attack, however, is to create a "blood shadow", a deep-red shadow that forms around him, and with it, tear his enemies to pieces.

Rune Tattoos: Lance's body was painstakingly adorned with a latticework of tattooed symbols. These serve varying purposes, but mostly contribute to his enhanced physiology and resistance to magical injuries. The tattoos typically activate piecemeal upon Lance's command as a way to conserve his energy and stamina. When activated, the tattoos and runes first emerge as black lines, then begin glowing and rotating upon themselves.

Name: Darigaaz, the White Glint, the Sky Asunder, Who Split the Heavens
Age: 42
Gender: Male
Caste: Highborn
Appearance: Darigaaz is a giant of a drake, even for a highborn. He stands just over seven feet tall, with shoulders more than three feet wide. He's long-limbed and heavily muscled, almost ridiculously so by human standards, but then again, most drakes are. His muscles, however, are extremely dense (giving him greater-than-expected strength) and are efficient at processing toxins (giving him greater endurance). Like all drakes, he's naturally flexible, agile, and athletic; and possesses a grace that belies his great size. His body is covered with interlocking scales. His thick scales are colored a shimmering golden-white, and overlap like pieces of plate-mail. The scales on his torso and underarms are a lighter color, more akin to sun-bleached bone, and don't have the same shimmering quality. At his joints are pointed bony protrusions: short, thick spikes designed to both protect and serve as additional weaponry.

Atop his head sits a massive pair of curved, ridged horns that make excellent ramming weapons. Darigaaz has tremendously powerful jaws with enormous bite-force. Bony spikes emerge along his brow and jaw line. His conical teeth are sharp and powerful, but designed more for crushing and piercing. They're thick and sturdy, deeply rooted in his jaws to withstand the immense force placed upon them. Like most drake, his neck is thickly-muscled. This allows for greater ramming power as well as the ability to absorb the great force those rams exert on his own body.

He has massive, wide wings and shoulder muscles, which only contribute to his immense physical strength. His arms ripple with muscles, and his hands and fingers are strong as well. His claws are short like his teeth and are designed more for piercing, ripping, and tearing than they are for quick slashes. His legs are also incredibly strong, allowing for explosive bursts of speed and motion. His back claws are designed to afford him better traction so they're short and strong. The scales on the bottoms of his feet are also ridged, giving him better traction as well. Darigaaz's tail is long, thick, and powerful, ending in a bladed spike. He frequently uses the tail to sweep enemies away from him, and a single blow can shatter bones with ease.

Because of his heavily-scaled body, Darigaaz wears little when it comes to armor. He typically wears simple, dark blue pants cinched around his thigh with leather wrappings. He wears a navy tunic cinched across his waist with an armored leather belt. A leather pauldron covers his left shoulder and both of his arms are wrapped in leather. When he's anticipating a fight, Darigaaz will adorn a set of greaves and gauntlets.

Personality: Darigaaz is rough and brash. He hails from the Engrad where strength and fighting ability was valued above all else, so his entire upbringing was geared towards maximizing his potential. He seeks to push the limit on what he can accomplish on the field of battle; gladly taking missions and diving into combat where his allies might hesitate. Darigaaz is steadfastly loyal and has a strong sense of honor and duty. However, combined with his fiery attitude, this often leads him to take insults to others as insults to himself, and he reacts violently. Darigaaz's youth does nothing to soften his temper. He has an easy-going side and a bit of a wild streak, and he's been known to raise a bit of hell from time to time and city to city. Darigaaz is powerful and he knows it. Darigaaz isn't afraid to let enemies know that either. If it benefits a situation, he's perfectly happy to let an enemy hit him just to show how durable and unaffected he is. He also isn't above unnecessary shows of brute physical force, going so far as to purposely miss a punch in order to break something else and get into his opponent's head. Darigaaz is intense, always living as if there is a sun burning behind his eyes.

History: Darigaaz was born in Engrad as a highborn and immediately taken in by a Noble House. The head of the household, his parents had no highborn children of their own -- and his new father, Ancalagon, found this entirely unacceptable. Despite half a dozen marriages and divorces, he had been unable to produce a blooded highborn heir. With no other choice, Ancalagon took in two highborn drakes instead. He took the two to his court of Rodagand where there new lowborn brothers and sisters lived.

Darigaaz and his highborn brother Crosis grew up in the shadow of their father's ever-present legend. Ancalagon was a brutal ruler and damn-near a tyrant. But he took steps to ensure his sons' preparedness for the role, and often pit them against one another to earn his fleeting favor. Darigaaz was trained by the greatest warriors in Rodagand as soon as he was old enough to fight. Ancalagon attempted to educate Darigaaz as to the ways of leadership and rule. But of all his siblings, Darigaaz had the least mind and patience for politics. He was young. He was fierce. He wanted challenges - battles - and opportunities to remove himself and grow beyond his father's shadow. He had no tolerance for things being handed to him, regardless of how easy it might be. He ventured out into the continent, adventuring with his brothers. Darigaaz's prowess grew, as did his arrogance.

At this point, word of his exploits was beginning to spread, and Darigaaz was infinitely pleased. He had earned the titles " the White Glint, the Sky Asunder, Who Split the Heavens" as a testament to his prowess in battle. He believed fully in the greatness of Rodagand, of his father, and of himself. In a negotiation with another noble court, Darigaaz's temper got the better of him and he lashed out, killing the offending party and nearly setting off a war. To allay the fears of the other drake courts, Ancalagon was left with no choice but to humble his egotistical son. He beat Darigaaz severely before casting a powerful spell to strip him of his wings, hurl him from the peaks of Rodagand, and banish him from the drake lands, no longer worthy to be his heir or highborn at all.

Left with nothing but his skills and his wits, Darigaaz traveled the land trying to find a way to reclaim his wings and pay his father back for the indignity. Throughout this time, he was treated as a lowborn, which he learned not to protest (for when he did protest, they treated him as a crazy lowborn). Over the first several weeks, Darigaaz found himself recognizing the poor way in which those of high rank treated those below them. In those people he recognized his own qualities - and what he once thought of as his great privileges, he came to understand as even greater failings.

He ventured throughout the continent, and found himself soon in Guild employ as a way to support himself financially. He rose steadily through the ranks; even without his wings and flight, he was a skilled and powerful fighter. He took whatever jobs he could at first, especially those that seemed menial. His drive to improve his standing in life and reclaim what he'd lost kept him going. And so the years passed. Darigaaz rose through the Guild ranks and eventually came to accept never regaining his wings. His anger towards his father was still an ever-present flame in his heart, but it had lessened to a smolder.

One particular assignment would change Darigaaz's life entirely. In a mission to assist the titan city of Braghurem in the Eastern Plains. Deep in the earth he fought off a number of horrible beasts and earned the gratitude of the titans. To thank him, the titans of Braghurem offered him the Undrjarn - an adaptive weapon that responded to his thoughts and needs, and then etched an intricate series of runes into the scales on his arms. Each scale received a runic outline along its edge; tiny, like words in a book. These runes marked him as a brother of titans and sealed him among them. But the runes had an unforeseen effect - they released the spell placed upon his wings so many years prior. And in a flash his wings emerged - as strong and as powerful as they had been when they'd been taken.

Darigaaz took flight that very same instant. He sailed through the deep city and soared into the sky with a cry of joy on his breath. He soon found that rather than breaking the spell entirely, the runes had granted him control over the spell and he himself could control whether his wings emerged or not. Having realized the benefit of being overlooked and underestimated, Darigaaz often chooses to leave his wings hidden.

With his flight restored, Darigaaz flew back to Rodagand to confront his "father" - there, however, he learned that Ancalagon had descended into madness and become known as the Sky Tyrant. All of Rodagand's court was under Ancalagon's tyrannical control, and even Darigaaz's brother Crosis (Ancalagon's only remaining heir) was suffering under his father's heel. When Ancalagon learned of his return he set his guard upon Darigaaz, but he fought his way to his father's chambers, where the younger dragon easily bested his father and broke his legend.

While Darigaaz could have stayed to reclaim his place in Rodagand, he instead renounced his position and allowed his brother Crosis to take the throne. Wings and honor restored, Darigaaz took flight and left for the Guild hall in Valm to continue the work he was doing.

Guild Rank: Gold

Job: Warrior. Champion. Knight.

Weapons: Undrjarn the All-Weapon: A vambrace created from starmetal. It has the ability to morph into whatever type of weapon its wielder wants at a moment's notice. It cannot create projectiles, but it can transform into a ranged bow or crossbow and allow its wielder to supply the magical ammunition.

Skills: Darigaaz is a highly skilled combatant. Years of training under his father have afforded him a level of expertise with most commonly used weapons (and some uncommon ones). When combined with the Undrjarn this means that Darigaaz is rarely unequipped for any particular situation.

Magic: Darigaaz's magical focus is primarily on the magic of fire, wind, and heat. He's the prototypical dragon in that sense. His specialty is on the drake "Words of Power" - ancient magical focuses that channel spells through spoken words. With it he can set things ablaze, conjure firestorms, and peer into the unknown through his wind magic.

Runes Darigaaz's runes are more decorative than a typical set of titan runes. In his case, rather than act as conduits for spellcasting, they act as additional channels for his spells, bestowing channeling properties into the etched scales across his body.

Name: Serra
Age: 9
Gender: Female
Sub-Race: Spriggan
Appearance: Serra is of average height for a spriggan, about 5 feet tall. She's a beauty, with sharp features: full lips, a slender nose, and focused hawk-like eyes. Her vibrant red hair is long and hangs just past her shoulders in the back. She usually ties the back in a high ponytail while allowing the front to hang loose and frame her face. Her eyes are a strikingly bright green, and after prolonged use of magic, her irises turn a glowing metallic green. She's quite tan after all the years spent exploring the continent, especially from her recent time in the Sandsea and Valm. Her wings are long and slim, and glimmer with iridescent colors - reds, greens, and blues.

On the surface, Serra has a rather enchanting physique, hourglass figure with gorgeous curves, long, smooth legs, curved hips, and slim waist. On closer inspection, however, it becomes apparent (sometimes painfully) that Serra is strong; rippling with explosive force. Each muscle is lean: iron-hard and as taut as a bowstring. She doesn't have many marks or scars. The Guild's healing salves were very potent, and any substantial injuries she received were taken care of immediately. though her hands are calloused and nicked up from all her tinkering.

Serra has a rather extensive wardrobe; accrued during her travels working for the Guild, and her own personal whimsy. Since she's constantly traveling and performing tasks for the Guild, she's constantly in contact with new people and cultures and becomes fascinated by them. She has an array of dresses formal wear, but can typically be found traveling in something consisting of thigh-high leather boots, skin-tight pants, and dyed leather shirt. Each article of clothing is ornately and intricately stitched, often embroidered with jewels or metal filigree. She tops this off with a traveling cloak of only the highest quality.

Personality: Serra has been described as "smokin," "hot," "smokin hot," and "DAMN!" Literally. In both a physical and emotional sense. She's fiery and determined, fiercely independent and confident. She is flirty, vibrant, and full of life. On top of that she's quick-witted and clever, eager to discover new places, technologies, or events, and uncover hidden meanings and deeper truths. She's the consummate scientist-explorer.

Serra is willful almost to a fault, usually doing whatever she wants regardless of whether or not it inconveniences others, particularly with Lance. She also likes to withhold information, usually telling people just enough to leave them wondering. Her awareness of her shortened lifespan has led Serra to suffer bouts of loneliness (though she usually tries to hide it, especially around those she does not know well), with little care for even those she has entered into arrangements with, while in the past she was somewhat a spoiled and cheerful girl.

Serra is a master of subtlety and deadpan humor, able to throw people off their game with the simplest twist of a phrase or word. She also has a penchant for teasing people, though it's never malicious or done in spite. In this way she's sometimes quite playful, though it's always in her own soft-spoken way. She's quirky in that regard, and often catches people off guard because of it.

History: Serra doesn't have a very extensive history - at only nine years old there is still so much she wants to do and experience. She was born in Summergrove and was expected to follow her family traditions of collecting herbs, leaves, berries, fungi, and other woodland plants to turn into potions and concoctions. Her parents wintered in Summergrove and then spent the rest of the year traveling across the continent administering aid to the sick and injured as part of their collective's effort to bring healing to the other races.

After four years of this, Serra was already sick of it. She couldn't imagine spending the rest of her short life toiling away in the dirt and infirmaries hoping to eke a living. To that end she sought out any other possible livings she could while she traveled with her family. During her third summer, they came across an injured Guildmage near the Deepwood. While they treated the mage, Serra dogged her with a hundred thousand questions. Serra and her family had only used nature-based magic to strengthen and fortify their ingredients, potions, and concoctions, to accelerate the growth of plants, or enhance the healing effects of their already-magical potions. But with the Guildmage, Serra learned a thousand more things were possible.

She begged the Guildmage, Liza, to teach her. And so Liza joined her family in their journey as she recovered from her injuries. Over the summer, Serra became close friends with Liza and learned as much as she could. It wasn't formal schooling, of course, but her natural and instinctive proclivity for magic meant that she was a fast learner and could quickly draw conclusions for high-level spellcasting from basic concepts. That winter, Liza took her to the Whisperwood in order to introduce her to its strange dilating time and unpredictable flows of mana.

Over the winter, Serra devoted herself to the study of magic under Liza's tutelage. As luck would have it, Liza was an adept and patient teacher; and was willing to put her life on hold for quite a while in order to leave Serra with a solid foundation of spellwork and training with a bow and arrow. Once she had recovered, however, she had to get back to her life and the Guild. But the mention of the "Guild" stayed with Serra. And so at the age of five, she set out on her own (without her family's blessing) to join the Guild.

Along the way she met and traded stories and spells with the odd wayward traveler; basic sleight of hand conjuring and dispelling became something else entirely in her hands. Her innate understanding of magic combined with her learned magi-biology, magi-chemistry, and magi-physiology allowed her to break down spells to their rudimentary components to then separate and adapt those components amongst other spells. When she joined the Guild at Estvalm she already had a wide repertoire of spells and magical accoutrements.

On a particular expedition through the Whisperwood, she came across a rather interesting Guild member. And while she typically avoided any sort of long-term attempt at emotional connection (after realizing "long term" wasn't something she could really do), she found him intriguing. He assisted her on some Guild-related business and they formed a loose partnership...of sorts. For lack of a more descriptive term, they became "housemates."

Guild Rank: Silver
Job: Rangr, healer, courier, advisor
Weapons: The Bow - While Serra never actually "named" her weapon, she carries a longbow (at least compared to her) created through magical means during her training Liza. The bow contains a "snapshot" or "invocation" of every creature that Serra has come across. The bow can make further "snapshots" of a dying creature, transforming its memory into a spirit of the animal in its prime. The ritual involves tapping the bow three times against the floor, resulting in an intense white light surrounding the caster. After a fourth tap, the artifact opens into metallic bark and branch, flowering at intervals. After it splits down, the jag of light absorbs the spirit of the dying animal.

Skills: Serra's primary talent is one of Magic. Specifically nature and elemental magic. You won't see her throwing fireballs at anyone (unless someone tries to throw one her way and she wrests away control over it), but she can utilize nature magic to heal accelerate growth in things around her. This includes plants and plant matter.

However, her greatest skill is with The Bow - through careful application of her spellcraft, she was able to create a weapon perfectly attuned to her capabilities. Her understanding of nature, people, and animals allowed her to transpose magical forms from physical biology and further forge that into said weapon. Serra is able to call forth spirit creatures with her bow, by firing magical arrows at her targets. She is also able to enlarge or empower living animals with the energy those arrows unleash.
 
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TheSequelReturns

Faithful Crusader
@Solsabre: No issues. And as always, the detail is appreciated.

That said, Windrush the Windless, the drake of Argona fame, bearer of titles lost and maladies found, is hereby Accepted into the Guild.

@Kamotz: Its going to be interesting, seeing Lance in a new setting. Again, the amount of detail is impressive and kudos for the creativity in skill sets.

That said, Lance Donovan, the Slayer of shadowed past, master of all things lethal, is hereby Accepted into the Guild.

Additionally, Darigaaz the White Glint, drake who left behind Rodagand's court, wielder of Undrjarn the All-Weapon, is hereby Accepted into the Guild.

Furthermore, Serra, the spriggan from the Springwood, eager student of magic and collector of spirits, is hereby Accepted into the Guild.

And with that, I think we are nearing maximum capacity. So, Sign-ups are officially closed.

If you have either:

1. a reserve
2. a WIP
3. at least one accepted character

Then you can still complete your sign-ups or post additional characters.

I'll get the RP started here shortly, probably on Thursday or Friday depending on my schedule.
 
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storymasterb

Knight of RPGs
Name: Friede Brandritter
Age: 26
Gender: Female

Appearance: Quite beautiful by human standards, Friede regardless clearly doesn't care about impressing others. Her black hair is allowed to messily tumble to the middle of her back, her skin pale from hours spent poring over dusty tomes and studying over the past years of her life. Though the life of a Guild member has started to erase the typical signs of a mage student from her, tanning her skin, roughening her hands and developing her muscles, she still retains a certain carelessness about her appearance. Her most striking and unusual feature are her deep red eyes, a clear abnormality caused by her experimentation that she likes enough to avoid trying to return them to their original brown.

Friede usually dresses in the academic fashion she grew accustomed to in Bastion, but adapted to the rigors of adventure. She wears a black dress that reaches to her knees, its sleeves stopping just before the elbow, and leather boots,leaving her extremities free should she transform them into a wyvern's talons or sprout wings from her arms. Lines of white thread trim the dress's edges starkly and she wears plain shorts beneath to preserve modesty. She keeps a hat akin to that of a stereotypical witch often perched atop her head. In more turbulent weather conditions, she will trade the hat for a warm thick hooded cloak in a dark green. Her magic focus is an oak wand she keeps at her belt along with a pouch of various useful items and ingredients.

Personality: At first glance, Friede seems like a scholar travelling the world in search of knowledge, either nose deep in some tome of lore or enjoying herself in the tavern when not going about Guild business. She speaks with the accent of the upper class, sometimes speaking more formally than needed, but this is about the only hint of her upbringing that survived her time in the academy in Bastion and her subsequent efforts for the Guild. Life has otherwise stripped her of formality, leaving her reading those tomes with cheap wine by candlelight or spending time in the tavern when she can be coerced away from her study of wyverns. On that subject, the first word of advice those who know her will offer is always not to give her cause to talk about them should you have anywhere to be within the next few hours, for she is a bottomless font of knowledge about the creatures. Generally Friede is pleasant and friendly as befits her name, offering help to others as much as she can. Overall, she appears to be simply a slightly eccentric student of magic with perhaps a little too much love for wine. Her chosen sphere of magic raises certain eyebrows, regarded as strange at best, troubling and unbecoming at worst, but Friede shrugs off such concerns with a warm chuckle, particularly when some suggest she has a thing for drakes.

Beneath her gleeful exterior, Friede hides a secret she has never shared with anyone truthfully, that deep down she admires the wyvern that destroyed her village as a child. Though she recognises that it did terrible things, it was beautiful and majestic in its own way to her young eyes, leaving her feeling powerless and awestruck by comparison. As she grew up raised by nobles with all the expectations and responsibilities of such a station placed upon her shoulders, she only came to wish she could be like that wyvern, free to do whatever she wished without heed of the thoughts of society. To be human was to be chained by those thoughts, she thought, and though she loves her adoptive parents she also resents the burden they placed upon her shoulders. Her time in Bastion liberated her somewhat of fearing their disapproval, and since finishing her education she has distanced herself from them under the pretence that she is just experiencing more of the world before she comes home to take her place as their heir. In the very bottom of her heart, she knows she is being cowardly, refusing to confront the truth that she simply does not want that life and she is far happier living the plain life of a Guild member, but equally she feels ungrateful and guilty about wanting to reject a life that many would kill for even if it is because she values her freedom over her prosperity.

At the same time as longing for true freedom, however, Friede finds herself reluctant to shed all the comforts of humanity. She clings to memories of good nights in the tavern with friends both in Bastion and in Estvalm, of warm kisses and embraces, and the satisfaction of helping others as much as she can. Sometimes when her belly is full of wine, she muses on the thought that she doesn't truly know what she will do if she ever can advance her magic to the point of achieving a full transformation into a wyvern, a quandary she has not yet resolved since for all she knows, she will never arrive at the point where she must immediately answer it.

History: Born in the small village of Stonepath at the western edge of Gambit's Bluff, Friede would have perhaps lived her life as just a peasant if not for the strange whims of fate. Her parents were humble farmers and it seemed without question that she would marry and inherit their land alongside her husband when the day came, but when she was eleven, the fates conspired to shatter that lowly destiny. A wyvern had taken up residence in the hills nearby and though it had yet to threaten the village, it seemed likely in the eyes of the Guild that it would eventually turn its gaze upon Stonepath. So it was that a party of brave Guild members ventured to the beast's lair to preemptively slay it, an endeavour that would have been regarded as most noble had they not failed and incurred the wyvern's wrath. It descended on the village as a black shadow, smashing houses, tearing people apart with fang and claw. Its venomous breath choked the life from those who tried to flee it, and Friede survived only because she had happened to be out searching for berries. From her hiding spot amidst the brambles, she watched her life be torn asunder by a creature that both terrified and awed her. The wyvern sated its thirst for vengeance by levelling the village before returning to its lair, leaving Friede to emerge and wander into the devastation. All had perished, livestock, horses and people alike.

A day passed before help came. A party of Guild riders from the next town came, led by Lord Brandritter, a scion of an old noble family who had long administered the region's affairs. Finding the girl amidst the ruins of Stonepath, the riders took her to safety and Lord Brandritter personally saw that she was fed and sheltered in his own grand home. The vast mansion quickly became home to Friede, with the servants attending to her every need and Lady Brandritter coming to tend to her. The question of what was to be done with her was asked behind closed doors, often while she slept, but by chance Lord and Lady Brandritter had been unable to conceive a child and they could not bear to abandon Friede to the whims of the local orphanage. So it was that they formally took her in as their daughter, promising to raise her as their heir and love her as her parents had before their cruel demise. When dreams of the wyvern's rampage troubled her sleep, they saw to it that the best doctor they could find was brought to care for her, and as she grew from girl into woman they taught her the ways of nobility, how to ride a horse, the necessary manners and how to dress as befits a lady. But though she had everything she could ever want and though she was in the very lap of luxury, Friede did not know peace. She had an aching need to do more than simply let the Brandritter title and estates fall into her lap, marry some suitable man and live her days in luxurious nothingness. As such, she asked to travel to Bastion to study magic, saying that she wished to spend at least some of her life serving the people as a mage. Though her adoptive parents were uncertain, they presumed it was just a phase and reasoned that some time outside the sheltered bubble of the estate would do her good, and so they paid for her to attend a prestigious academy in Bastion so as to hone her skills. At the age of 19, she undertook the journey to the capital, taking in all the sights and sounds with awe and wonder. But deep down, she felt guilty that she had misled Lord and Lady Brandritter. She had heard of certain mages who used magic to transform items, and she had come to wonder if it were possible to do the same to herself, to shape her frail body into the shape of a powerful wyvern and be free.

Her studies in Bastion over the next four years saw her make some progress, but she quickly ran into the edge of what was considered possible. She could transform her hands and feet into claws, summon wings from her arms and a tail, or even with great effort transform her head into that of a wyvern. Further work made her able to safely breath venom as a wyvern did, but this development she undertook in secret, aware that her existing work had already seen her regarded as an eccentric. She did not want word of her efforts getting back to the Brandritters. Between her studies, she mingled with the population at large, even having several short flings with other students. The more she experienced and grew, the more she came to feel that she could not go back home. The chains of her duties seemed even more terrible now that she had tasted freedom, but she could not bring herself to admit that to her adoptive parents. They had been so good to her, she thought. Even if she found the destiny they laid out for her a prison, she couldn't bring herself to reject it to their faces. So when her time at the academy came to the end, she instead asked them for more time, saying she wished to serve as a member of the Guild for a few years to further understand the people and life beyond the manor. Again they accepted, though she could tell they were worried for her, especially when she asked that she be allowed to live on the fruits of her labor rather than the Brandritter coffers. They agreed however grudgingly, perhaps certain that she genuinely did just want to experience life as most people did for a time, and that she would return enlightened.

Choosing Estvalm as her new home, Friede came to the town and joined the local Guild, setting herself up in the Guild lodgings. Though it took some time, she established herself through small quests, becoming well known for her friendliness and her helpful attitude as well as her odd school of magic. Though some looked at her with suspicion, she found that many were happy to see her strange transformations as simple eccentricity, easily forgivable given the amount of useful magic she brought to the table alongside transfiguring her body parts into those of a wyvern. Over three years she worked her way up to Bronze ranking, aware that Lord and Lady Brandritter were only so patient and the time would come when they demanded that she return home and carry out her duties. But for the time being, she enjoys herself and the freedom she so dearly cherishes.

Guild Rank: Bronze
Job: Transfiguration
Weapons: Friede does not wield weapons as such, instead transforming her body into a weapon.
Skills: Friede's primary skillset and the one on which she focuses the most is the ability to transfigure parts of her body. She can transform her hands and feet into a wyvern's claws, transform her arms with a wyvern's bat-like wings, sprout a tail, and even transform her head into that of a wyvern to breathe venom at her enemies. Each of these transformations is strenuous on its own, requiring intense focus to perform and reverse properly, and so currently she can only maintain two of them at a time, and even that with extreme effort, but body parts she transforms become armored with mighty scales, rendering them hard to damage by conventional means. Theoretically she can adapt the principles of her transfiguration to transform other objects, but she has only done so on small items as part of her education in Bastion.

Aside from this, Friede has a general education in magic encompassing multiple skills of general use, including the ability to repair objects, sense other beings in her surroundings, cause objects to glow, and several other spells generally suited to mundane day-to-day uses.
 

TheSequelReturns

Faithful Crusader
@storymasterb: Looks good.

That said, Friede Brandritter, the human mage from Stonepath, the transfigurer who dreams of a wyvern's freedom, is hereby Accepted into the Guild.

@Monster Guy: Looks good.

That said, Tikaani Aput, the tribesman from the Windswept Tundra, the wandering socialite with a knack for casting, is hereby Accepted into the Guild.
 
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TheSequelReturns

Faithful Crusader
@Sketchie: No worries! Thanks for your interest.

Name: Yenn Rimeux
Age: 10
Gender: Female
Sub-Race: Sprite

Appearance: Yenn is a little below average height for a sprite, standing at 3’3’’. She is as petite as any pixie, and it’s clear just by looking at her that she’s unsuited for physical combat. Her skin is a pale, icy blue, and her straight minty-green hair spills freely down her back and between her wings. Her large eyes are a warm golden yellow, like honey, and her wings sport vibrant swirls of white and purple with a golden yellow ring near the upper portion of each wing. She has a small patch of silvery freckles under each eye.

Despite the colder climate of her usual residence, Yenn is most often seen in a light, breathable, tunic made of a vibrant green silken material and a pair of slightly puffy white pants made of the same airy material. At first glance, it almost looks like something a human from the sandsea might wear, but it’s spun from the silken threads of glowworms the Sprites raise themselves. Enchanted to be abnormally durable, the lightweight threads help regulate Yenn’s body temperature by preventing her from overheating. The tunic is embroidered with white thread in an elegant and complex series of swirls, knots, and twists that dance around the edges and seams. A very thin cord, serving as a belt, is tied around her waist and from it hangs a single small pouch completely covered in runes. Her feet are covered with a pair of simple moccasin-like slip on shoes and a necklace with several crystals of varying sizes and colors hangs from her neck.


Personality: Yenn is best described as “diligent.” She likes to do things by the book whenever possible and is meticulous in her habits and hygiene alike. Though Yenn is thoroughly detail-oriented, she lacks the assertiveness to enforce her rules on others and tends to silently go about her business without much complaint. The exception to this, is repetition. Yenn hates wasting effort and if someone makes her repeat her cleaning, speech, or other such actions she doesn’t respond well.

Like most sprites, Yenn has no qualms about using casting for just about everything and has an innumerable amount of simple spells for daily tasks like dusting, removing dirt, fetching objects, opening doors, etc, and she dispenses them with the same ease as a non-caster would go about manually doing those tasks.

Yenn is surprisingly well-traveled for a sprite, having left her village several years ago, and her time spent with the Guild has been spent mostly running complex, detail oriented quests like casting difficult spells, serving time as a devoted healer, and scanning old artifacts for hidden magics. This has given her a wealth of skills and patience alike. Yenn’s manner of speaking is precise yet disarming. She isn’t nervous around strangers, though entering unknown situations can make her apprehensive and anxious. It's not uncommon to see her active at all times of the day and she has a habit of taking cat naps periodically and working late into the night.


History: Yenn hails from the sleepy yet enchanting forest known as the Hinterlands. One of the few places where it is cold and snowy all year, the Hinterlands is rough living for all except the sprites. The trees there sparkle in the daylight and glow whimsically with magical light in the dark hours. It's a special place, and due to its remote nature, a place rarely seen by outsiders and visited only by the most well traveled wanderers. The small, scattered villages that dot the forest are home to tight-knit communities, each entirely self-sufficient and for the most part frozen in time with each generation keeping the ways and habits of the previous. While most sprites are a reclusive and sedentary bunch and find this calm, well practiced life to be comforting, there are the odd few who are born with a more adventurous spirit. Yenn is one such sprite.

Her early years were spent experimenting with her natural casting ability. She didn’t want to learn the same spells her parents used to help the trees grow or cultivate fungi. Instead, she took to trying new things like changing the color of the snow or making the fungi dance. The sort of behavior common to child casters of other races, but rare in her village. And as she grew older, her experiments grew more and more unorthodox. This didn’t bother her parents, hers was a large family and there was no need for her to take charge of the home one day. But it did make her the talk of the town. It seemed she could hardly go anywhere in town without someone asking her to help with something or warning her not to cast recklessly. For Yenn, who had always been quiet and solitary, the attention was unbearable. It was that, more than anything, that led her to seeking a path outside the Hinterlands.

Once Yenn came of age, she said her farewells and headed out of town to find a new path for herself. There were only two ways out of the Hinterlands. Either she could head to the end of the mountains and skirt the edges of the Deepwood or seek passage through one of the old tunnels that were dug out by the titan city of Granite Falls. Not wanting to change the Deepwoods route, Yenn headed to the northeast where she would find the tunnel through the mountains.

Granite Falls was as peaceful as any titan city, but the place was built near a treacherous ridge of steep, sharp mountains where the danger of falling rocks was ever present. It was however, one of the thinner sections of the mountain chain and through the tunnel was long and dark it was a much better proposition than trying to go above ground and risk the falling rocks of the peaks. Even if she could fly, one bad encounter with a tumbling boulder would end her adventure before it started. So, she resigned herself to the long, dark, and lonely trek through miles of flat, featureless tunnel. She made it to Granite Falls two days later, covered in dust, running low on supplies, and vowing to avoid tunnels in the future.

It was there in the titan city, where she truly felt like an insect among giants, that she discovered the local Guild Hall. It was the only place for her to stay the night where she didn’t feel like she was going to sink into the covers and get lost in the bedsheets. But what intrigued her more was the variety of people who worked there. There were all kinds, even non-titans, who did all manner of work. She became enamored with the thought and signed up as a new Guild member. Yenn went to work right away, honing her skills and applying her talent for creative casting to solving difficult and unorthodox jobs. Eventually, she left the titan city to seek work more suited to a being her size and after a series of hops wound up at the Estvalm guild hall where she has been for the last two years.

One of the few in Valm with her useful but odd skillset, she found no end to work to be done and quickly rose to her current rank of Bronze. She’s spent time as an appraiser in Rivervale, making enemies and friends alike in the merchant caravans, she’s spent time scanning objects recovered from Stillsong Swamp or the depths of Sentinel for old magics and curses, and more recently she’s spent countless hours planning, plotting, and redrafting maps and schematics for use at Dust End Mine. She knows she’s making a difference and helping as best she can. And the money isn’t half-bad either. But in her heart, she still longs to have something exciting happen to shake things up and give her a real adventure.


Guild Rank: Bronze

Job: Cartographer, Specialized Caster, Support Mage

Weapons: Yenn carries no weapons, instead using her casting ability for everything. The crystals on her necklace double as mana batteries that help her conserve her inner reserves or let her cast in mana-poor locations.

Skills:
Sprite magic - As a sprite, Yenn has what most races would consider an immense reserve of mana. She’s capable of casting for longer and with less natural mana around than most and her lifetime of using mana for mundane tasks has taught her to optimize her mana usage to great effect.

Cartography - Yenn is skilled at map making and has a steady hand for drawing as well as a good eye for artistry. This is of course backed up by her good sense of direction. She can also draw other things that require a steady hand and an eye for detail, like schematics or diagrams, provided someone feeds her the info.

Naturalism - All fairies are taught how to use mana to influence nature, and Yenn is no different. Her affinity with the natural world gives her valuable insight into things like plant growth, animal behavior, and treating injuries. Though not a dedicated healer, Yenn can use her magic to help plants grow, purify water, help the body heal itself, calm animals, and so on.

Scan - Yenn can scan objects for disrupted mana flows. No matter how old or mundane the enchantment, all magic leaves a trace. And Yenn has a natural talent for picking up on this and identifying if an object is actually enchanted, cursed, etc.

Spellcrafting - Yenn is always experimenting with new spells. Her work can be tricky and her willingness to go outside the normal conventions had led to some creative spell work some of which has been a spectacular success and others a complete catastrophe. Her spells are as varied as they are unorthodox and though she is not a particularly skilled fighter she can hold her own if the need arises.

Pouch of Holding - The only thing Yenn seems to carry around with her is a small leather pouch that she keeps safely tied to her belt. This pouch is covered from top to bottom is a continuous line of magical runes. This pouch is enchanted to increase its carrying capacity. Though it is small enough to fit into the palm of your hand, it can hold about as much as a standard backpack. This pouch is used primarily to carry her map-making supplies as well as food and medicine, all of which is as light as she can make it since the pouch still weighs as much as the items inside would normally.
 
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TheSequelReturns

Faithful Crusader
@GoldenHouou: Sorry this took me so long to review.

Tumble Dawndancer, the young spriggan with an eye and an ear to nature, is hereby Accepted into the Guild.

Feel free to join in where we're at now. You can have Tumble be part of the group on the wagon.
 

Solsabre

The Reforged Soul
Name: Vala The Vibrant, Player of Spoons, and Master of Darts and All Things Pointy.
Species: Drake
Age: 32
Gender: Female
Caste: Lowborn

Appearance: Vala is short for a drake, even a lowborn, at a measly height of 5’8”. Her eyes are heterochromatic (orange and brown) that are inviting and warm. Horns sweep backwards over the curvature of her skull with various metallic hoop piercings.

She is very slender and limber, but with compact, taut muscle from her years of climbing sail rigs, swimming, and acrobatic feats. Unlike females of other races, female drakes are flat chested and not ‘top heavy’. Her scales are rather striking in color; saphire blue on the outward parts of her arms and legs, shoulders, head and sides. The saphire scales then blend into sea green and then white on her stomach, inner/undersides of her limbs. Blotches of silver stretch over the blue and seagreen scales. Her tail is long, narrow, and very flexible. Oftentimes, she’ll crack it like a whip or use it as a fifth limb for climbing.

Vala’s clothing is a mishmash of various sewn together scraps or ribbons of fabric she has collected from various places or people. She’ll sew the fabric into long strips that she’ll wrap around her chest and shoulders with knots in material along her sides and a more decorative knot pattern on her upper chest, leaving her arms bare. There is no logic to the placement of the material’s color or texture, resulting in a eyecatching, if clashing, collage of color. Her ‘tank’stops at mid stomach, leaving her midriff bare. Sitting low on her waist is a short, orange ‘skirt’of tough eel hide that wraps around her backside and hips to be open in the front with form-fitting ‘shorts’ underneath. A braided rope of multiple colored strands holds the garment firmly to her waist. She wears a thick band of clashing color fabric around her forehead below her horns with a long tail draping over her shoulder. More braids of fabric strips weave between her fingers, wrist, and up her forearms. Thick metal bands on both upper arms, left one is copper, right one is silver. Regular leather bands cover her lower legs with no extra armor other than the protection her scales provide. She has a knive sheath strapped to the outside of both thighs.

Personality: Vala is as her title suggests; vibrant, cheerful, free-spirited, highly sociable, and a bit eccentric. She is insatiability curious and fearless, often poking her snout in places (or other people’s business) it does not belong. The female drake loves meeting new people and making friends, even if she rarely grows close to any of them. Vala lives in the moment, able to be care-free and go with the flow. As such, she has enjoyed the wandering life of a general adventurer and vagabond. She’ll easily be the first one to volunteer for a difficult task or mission, if only to experience the Adrenaline rush accompanying the challenge. She is quite energetic and is always climbing great heights or cramming herself into tight spaces. Occasionally, she simply enjoys drinking a beer quietly in the Guild Hall to ‘people watch’ and find someone interesting to hang out with.

Vala is always willing to try something once, whether it is a new skill or new magic. The lowborn female drake is not a powerful castor by any means. However, her ‘random bag of tricks’ , as she jokingly refers to the various minor magic abilities she’s acquired, she has honed to the point she is very skilled and efficient with her mana control. She’s particularly proud of her Ice Needle Formation spell and precision throwing. Some of her magical skills are quite useless and only look impressive. It’s not unusual for Vala to use her magic for unconventional purposes. She’s also acquired a variety of useful if odd skills from her circus ‘family’.

Generally, the female drake is quite direct, when it comes to speaking her mind. However, Vala is not above snooping for gossip about others if she can’t get it directly from her target of inquiry. She will light-heartedly tease her friends, but the smile in her eyes usually gives away that she is only giving them a hard time. Though not deliberately a showoff or drama queen, Vala will oftentimes speak or act with a flair of dramatic from her time with traveling performers. One of her worst qualities is that she has a tendency to ‘borrow’ things with the intent to return it later. That’s if she remembers.

Vala has a complete disregard for drake traditions. Being raised by Undines, she cares little for the drake hierarchy and titles. While she does have her typcial drake stubborn moments, she is far more easy-going and doesn’t worry about things like status and pride. Vala did eventually adopt a title of her own, but not one that anyone could take seriously. While Vala The Vibrant, Player of Spoons, and Master of Darts and All Things Pointy is her go-to title, she’ll often make one up to suit the mood or occasion. Unlike most drakes, she also loves to swim and is very good at it.

She loves festivals of every type, particularly the March of Ribbons. Her obsession to collecting scraps of fabric stems from witnessing the various ribbons left on undine graves, each with significant meaning. Her whole outfit consists of her carrying her memories of people and places with her and not burdening herself with material belongings.

Vala is also obsessed with playing darts, making things go boom, and playing the spoons.

History: Her egg was found alone in a ranshack rookery at Desolation’s End by an Undine explorer. The egg had been pushed to the edge of the warm sand pit that incubated the eggs and thus was cool to the touch. The Undine explorer examined the egg fearful it had expired, but felt a small shift within. The Undine kept a vigil in the rookery for many days, hoping the egg would still hatch. Finally, after 5 days, the egg began to crack with a struggle, but stopped after only a crack had formed along one side with a small hole. The undine carefully aided the hatchling with an encouraging melody, while prying the shell away. The hatchling mustered a second wind, breaking free of the shell, and falling weakly into the undine’s lap. The female hatchling was very small and weak. Dual-color eyes of green and blue looked up to the undine, before closing in exhaustion. The explorer carefully wrapped the small drakeling in a thick, warm hide and carried her down the mountain to his home.

The female drakeling, Vala, was raised in the undine village, Flotsam. Flotsam was a ‘float’ community, a settlement built upon a floating platform that drifted along the eastern coast of Caelocia according to the season and tides. These undine homes normally had rooms above and below water. Small skiffs or larger sailing schooners often accompanied these ‘floating’ communities. Village life revolved around fishing. Everyone took part in the daily chores to get equipment and boats ready for launch in the morning and assist with the harvest later in the evening. Even children helped in the daily ritual. Vala was often tasked with mending ripped sails with new thread and adding patches, becoming very proficient with a needle. Vala joined the undine sailors at the age of 15. While still physically weaker, Vala was quite agile and limber to climb the ropes and sailing masts with ease. She would go on the daily fishing runs, learning to sail small skiffs and large sailing schooners, and diving into shallows to search for previous pearls. In the quiet times, sailors would make music with whatever was available: a wooden bucket, twangy string, or Vala’s personal favorite, the metal spoons.

Vala sailed with the undine of Flotsam for 4 years, until fate brought the undine into a port city with a traveling circus in town. The colorful drake was absolutely taken in by the atmosphere; the commotion, the food, the games, the colorful costumes, and especially the trapize performers.

She loved it all and wanted to try everything.

Before the circus left town, Vala immediately signed up to join. The female drake began her career in the costume department using her skill with needle work to craft outfits for the various performers. Circus life dynamics wasn’t any different for Vala than it had been to life on Flotsam. Everybody chipped in to get the work done, even if it was something one usually didn’t do and led to opportunity to learn new skills. When Vala wasn’t mending garments or creating news ones, she was learning the subtleties of ice magic from the snow cone vendor, being the attractive assistant/target for the knife-throwing act, or helping the fireworks master maintain proper timing on explosive displays.

Eventually, Vala started her own side act of throwing ice needles at various targets in a gymnastic routine and increasing difficulties. She also began making her own unique clothing from scraps left over of other costumes. Vala had always loved the Undine holiday, The March of Ribbons, where simple scraps of fabric held deep meaning and remembrance. Vala, however, didn’t collect ribbons to remember the dead so much, but rather to remember the experiences of her life and what better way was there to carry those memories than by wearing them.

After three years, Vala got her chance in the spotlight to perform in a floor routine to demonstrate her agility in a series of tumbling techinques and tosses into the air with a titan partner. A year later, the Circus Master asked Vala if she would be interested in participating in the show’s highlighted act: The Flying Trapeze Artist. Vala said yes without hesitation. The female drake may have been born a lowborn, but she felt as free as any highborn as she sailed through the air for spectators.

Life continued on with the circus for ten years, but even circus life can become routine and boring. It was a bad encounter with a pair of highborns that left Vala feeling clueless as to what life was outside of the circus. At 29, Vala bid farewell to her circus family and set out on her own journey. Of course, Vala being Vala, traveled with no destination in mind, hitchhiking with traders, running from bandits, spending a month on a farm, trying her hand at clerical work for a town (that was a disaster). She eventually joined up with a party of adventurers returning to their guildhall after a treasure hunt. Intrigued by life in the guild, Vala registered as a guild member and made her way up through the ranks over the next two years. She didn’t stay with any one guild for long, hopping from town to town at a whimp. Her travels eventually lead her to the capital city of Estvalm the day after a large party departed on an emergency quest the night before.


Guild Rank: Bronze

Job: Adventurer, Seamstress, Entertainer, Sea Drake

Weapons:

  • Two throwing knives, simple in design, engraved with magical runes. A parting gift from the Knife Throwing Master at the Circus. Vala wears each knife in a sheath on her thighs. The magical runes are a summoning spell that is synced with matching symbols on the palms of Vala’s hands, so she can recall the knives after throwing them.

  • Ice Needles - Vala’s personal technique that she developed for her own side act of combining her precision throwing skills with her ice magic.

  • Tail Whip - She can snap her tail like a whip, while fighting enemies.
Skills:

  • - Water and Ice Magic - To master ice magic, Vala had to learn the basics of manipulating water into the desired shape. Fortunately, she had the basics down pat from life with the undines. She learned to create ice from the snow cone vendor. She most often forms ice needles to throw at a desired target.
  • - Mana Control - Vala is not a powerful caster, but she is very efficient and skilled to be able to constantly form ice needles to throw at enemies.
  • - Oddity Magic - Vala spent ten years with the circus. She learned a variety of useful (and not so useful) magic spells for everyday tasks or just for her sheer amusement. You never know what useful trick she’ll pull out of the bag.
  • - Precision throwing, sleight-of-hand, needle work, juggling, playing spoons, liberating-sorry- borrowing other people's property. Vala is very good with her hands.
  • - Flash bangs/smoke bombs - Previously she used her knowledge of explosive powder to wow her audience during a performance, now it makes for a handy distraction or blinding an opponent.
  • - Strong swimmer and sailor - Vala doesn’t shy away from the water like other drakes and knows her way around a sailboat.
  • - Acrobatic/Agile - Being a lowborn, Vala is far more limber than a highborn. Using her tail as a fifth limb, Vala weaves through a fight with ease, always twisting her body with flips, handstands, and control falls.

Other:

  • Don’t challenge Vala to a dart-throwing contest. She holds the title of Amatuer Champion Dart Thrower on Illri Res.
 
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