Hidden 9 yrs ago Post by HeySeuss
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HeySeuss DJ Hot Carl

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A certain famous city. ;)

Instructions
  • Post your character sheet here using the template provided below.
  • Please do not post anything else here, all questions and comments should go to the OOC tab.


Character Sheet
(Template Here)
Name:
Age:
Gender:
Race:
Physical Description:
It's probably best to actually describe the character if you are going to rely on a picture, or you can
do without the picture if you like, but definitely describe.

Skillset:
Talents one has either naturally or through education or training of some sort.

Far Ancestry:
Information on your character's forebears, bloodline and history that they might only be partially aware of or not aware of at all.

Character History:
Explain how your character got there -- no 'the story will come out in RP' lines, please -- I want a feel for where your character is coming from. Feel free to work up names and places and so forth. Be sure to mention feuds and debts and the such.

Psychological Profile:
An idea of how the character thinks and so forth; should be linked to the history. Most importantly, how did they react to the confrontation with Pykas and Cyrabassis -- because Cyrabassis was wielding magic (not heavy stuff, but way more than most have ever seen or would believe) and Pykas was possessed with something not of the world. They barely survived by the skin of their teeth. So the characters have baggage from that fight.

Equipment:
The character's equipment. Any magical items should be dormant, but maybe a character has one for some reason, such as a memento or a good luck charm or family heirloom.

Titles/Holdings/Power Base:
What sort of position the character occupies in the city, whether it is a business or a magistrate's position or similar. This should include prominent servants and properties as well as followers. For example, if a character were a high priest, a description of the temple and its influences within the city/its worshipers would be nice.

Relationships
The character's relations with the other characters.
Hidden 9 yrs ago 9 yrs ago Post by HeySeuss
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HeySeuss DJ Hot Carl

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Character Sheet
Name: Kanros the Raven
Age: 43
Gender: Male
Race: Human
Physical Description:
His hair, dark and shaggy, is worn long and stubbornly resistant of ever being neatened, except that he has a tendency to wear it pulled back in a severe fashion to reveal a high forehead and a long-ish jaw. He has a straight nose and deep-set blue eyes, which, along with the pale skin, mark him as an outlander. The man himself is large and well-made, his physical shape his pride and joy. He wears a lot of wealth on his arms, fingers, and belt buckle, and around his neck, feeling, as a sellsword often does, that it is best to carry the wealth on one's person as the most simple but effective security system devised – a thief looks for easier pickings and a robber has to contend with the man's swordarm. He has surprisingly few scars for a man in his line of work -- and that is something of a statement for those who use their eyes to see. He has kept his physical condition, though he has to work at it more and more. When going to war, or into a situation where it has advantages socially, he marks his face in the way of his people with ash across the eyepits and the brodge of the nose in a thick, dark line, giving rise to the term, 'black-eyed barbarian.'

Skillset:
A swordsman, a former pirate, gladiator and leader of men; despite his barbaric ancestry, he is a cunning strategist with a strong interest in masonry-- as a child, he learned from the thralls that did the masonry for the local lord. He can tie a knot and weave a rope if he wishes, though it's been a long time since he's had to. In matters of violence, he is an authority, from how to fight a single man to how to recruit, provisionm, train, organize and lead men in the field. Siegecraft is something he has had the time and leisure to study and practice -- he doesn't always show his mind off, because he likes to hide behind the impression of a barbarian, but he is a sharp negotiator.

Far Ancestry:
In the dim, distant past, a spirit of the seas, of storm and wave wooed the daughter of a thane, but her jealous betrothed found out about this budding romance and threw the girl from a cliff into the cold, grey waters. From this union sprung a daughter as dark and furious as the stormclouds, whose eyes were as gray as the waves of the northern seas who became a notorious raider and pillager of the lands her mother's betrothed once held, and it is said that when the Lord would not take the field against this daughter that he was cursed to the form of a weasel. This weasel was pandered to as if he remained the Lord of the land, and yet people laughed and his rivals closed in to tear apart his lands among themselves.

The career of Brynja Stormurdottir, sorceress, thief and pirate, was long and varied; the myth has it that she took a prince hostage for ransom, but loved him and bore his bastard despite this. In the years to follow, this young man, Brynjar Svartson, grew to adulthood and became as renowned as his mother, though perhaps not quite as soft a touch. Ambition burned darkly in his bastard breast and when his mother passed on, he sailed forth to pillage the lands of his father, untouched since the days of his mother's liasons with their lord. He slew his own father in battle and destroyed his half-siblings. The gods struck down Brynjar Svartson for his monstrous crime, though they took mercy upon his infant son and stole him away to be raised by the grieving widow of one of his half-brothers...

Character History:
The son of a passing sailor and the daughter of a fisherman, a netweaver and ropemaker by trade. For a few glorious summers she was darkly beautiful, then she became gray and used, bowed by the contempt of the village's moralists, the drunken abuse of her husband and the cares of the world. He never knew his father, of course, but he knew his stepfather all too well.

He was born to a married woman, the daughter of fishermen who married another fisherman only reluctantly...he was the result of a passing hunter and sailor aboard a longship sailing down the coast to trade seal furs where they'd fetch a good price. His father was never to be seen again, but he left his reminder of the visit. Kanros was raised in an abusive household, with a father that liked to take it out on him and his mother; he fell in the water one day and turned to ice in the winter, and while he greeted the news cheerfully, the rest of the village thought he'd done the man in. His bastardy meant that no fishermen would take him as an apprentice, though he knew ropes, and he instead labored as a mason and a builder with thralls, learning something of how stone is cut and wood is hewn from these men. He grew strong, and learned how to fight with the young men of the village, the ones that presumed to teach him his place.

His mother died after she no longer had the will to live, when her son was old enough and strong enough to feed himself; her passing was greeted with little comment from the rest of the village, who made her a pariah through a combination of her infidelity as a young woman and her marriage to a loutish drunkard.

He left his village whilst still a lad when a passing ship came through bound for southern lands. Of course, it was a pillager and a pirate, and its crew corsairs. He was big but fast, strong and unrelenting, and, of course, very angry; thus began a career of varied fighting for pay, raiding and piracy at various times. Eventually, he found himself in a falling out with others of the crew over shares, and the dispute turned bloody as he was intent on taking the share he considered his; when the killing was over, he was left on his own in the city of Baruk...where he was lured in with drink and the flesh of a woman and captured when he was vulnerable. He was sold on the block as a gladiator.

Despite the success and opulence of his life as a slave gladiator, he wanted his freedom. He managed to break free of his captivity, in a bloody fashion, during travel between cities and found his way to Dara, where there were no slaves. After a few months of minor adventures with the group he fell in with, they found themselves fighting for Dara against King Pykas of Selander and his many soldiers. Then, of course, they raided on Melazus, hoping to end the Sorceror's fell influence over the King. That story, is of course, well known.

After the encounter with Pykas and Cyrabassis in Melazus, he found his calling as a sellsword under the command of the mercenary captain Jalal, the Prince of Killers, and became a favored right hand man to him -- and eventually, as Jalal became older and Kanros matured, his equal partner, using the wealth plundered from Melazus as his stake. As the years passed, it became apparent that Jalal would have no son, and that Kanros was being groomed to take the fiefdom of the old man, including the hand of his daughter, Amira, in marriage. It was a strange sort of mating, but Jalal was the son of a desert nomad, and Kanros the bastard of a barbarian people -- and in perhaps, they saw things similarly.

The old Prince of Killers passed on, but by then Kanros, wealthy in his own right, was the most influential mercenary in the city. His wife, regrettably, died in childbirth.

Psychological Profile:
Kanros has a sullen aspect betimes, but is a man of flashes of dark humor and barbaric gaiety in the face of danger. He drinks deeply from life, knowing that it may end abruptly and harshly some day without being forseen. That fatalism drives his lust for life. Since seeing the magic of Cyrabassis in Melazus, he has had an inordinate fear of it and takes superstitious measures against things, though he knows little of magic -- it is considered a quirk of his that he will pay charlatans for icons and exorcisms, blessings and curse removal -- all mummery, none of it powerful. Kanros knows that much of this is bunk, and yet he keeps buying, seeking the one remedy that will work and bring actual luck and power and protection to him.

He enjoys his drink and his wenches, but he brooks little insult to his person -- there have been some that thought the big man might seem an easy one to dance around, only to find that the conditioning of the fighting pits of Baruk remains -- he is deceptively fast. He is surprisingly sharp in commercial matters, though he finds mercantilism for its own sake boring -- his commerce involves swords and fighting men, and he likes it that way.

In terms of how he makes decisions, he is a pragmatist that leans toward the amoral -- he has a bit of a distaste for the moral hand-wringing some people do; he prefers to do what has to be done. He is less concerned about methods than results. He does not believe in fighting fair, because fair is an abstraction, but he also has a distaste for overly elaborate plots or things that he considers indecent, like poison and other dark arts. If he wants a man dead, he'll do it with a knife, not with some damned powder.

It's best not to mistake Kanros' interest in Dara as a concern for the welfare of its people out of moral reasons -- he tends to think the Daran nobility are effete and too long decadent and 'civilized' and that many of the citizens are too weak to properly protect themselves -- a very barbaric attitude. He comes from a place where all men have steel and fight to defend their villages, and the cities still bemuse him. At the same time, he's carved out a niche as a sometime protector, albeit a very self interested one. The plight of the suffering don't move him as much as the opportunity for his own selfish reasons. Luckily, he can be dragged into trouble for love of action and a fight.

Equipment:
Vindurfang -- a sword his mother had and told tales of, though it is merely a sword. It is a good sword, with runes, two edges and very fine steel, so he's managed to retain it all through the years.
Armor as he wants. Clothing as he sees fit. Typically, the clothing is silk, but he leaves the arms bare for a variety of reasons. He likes bracers and torc bracelets, thick accessories.

In battle, he goes with a lamellar scale hauberk that is surprisingly light (because he is strong) and a good helmet with a plate over the eyes and nose to help protect from a slash to the eyes in a fight. He's not much for shields, but he's also highly pragmatic in these situations. He thinks of mobility as better than any shield, which is a barbarian's way of thinking about a fight.

Titles/Holdings/Power Base:
Kanros takes residence in Shield Hall, built from the stones of ruins on the eastern side of Dara, facing the Great Spice Road. When Dara sought to rebuild its moldering defenses, Kanros and Jalal volunteered their expertise and some investment on the part of the fortifications around the city, which means that Shield Hall is built into the city's defenses; it is indeed defensible, though Kanros keeps enough men to keep watch and staff the place, so it's a mixed force of his most trusted men and servants, who tend to be retired mercenaries, rather than keep a standing army of sellswords within the walls (expensive.) The place is well set up to host a large number of men, with a large hall in the center for feasting. The Shield Hall is set near the entrance to the Great Spice Road and is positioned well to defend it should war come to Dara again.

While the Shield Hall's garrison is dwarfed by the Khavi guard, Kanros the ability to recruit far more sellswords with a degree of notice -- it depends on the time and place, but Kanros and Jalal have spent decades building the trust and reputation that Kanros now uses to his advantage. He is for sale -- there is no doubt about that -- but he is loyal to Dara. His activities as a mercenary captain are often questionable, as he happily practices a type of warfare that involves looting and pillaging, raiding commerce and otherwise eroding other competitor cities and their ability to guard their roads and caravans. In a sense, Kanros guarantees Dara's caravans -- he won't raid the Great Spice Road, after all. He has allies who are invested in the prosperity of that route; he helps secure the Great Spice Road and raids the others. Some look down on these depredations and the more pragmatic appreciate that Kanros is carrying out a policy that Dara's more reputable notables can't readily admit to even as they desire it -- he undermines the competition.

In diplomacy, Kanros is considered a good choice of emissary when a certain sort of message needs to be sent. He is affable enough, but he is dangerous and has a reputation -- Dara's Guardians would request his services as such when it came time to deliver a veiled threat of force to come, and sometimes it was heeded. And if it wasn't, they would hire him to captain a significant portion of their forces in the field. When Dara wants to indirectly support another city or faction without overtly aligning itself, it cuts a deal with Kanros, who fields a mercenary force that, coincidentally, advances the interests of Dara. Kanros has made himself wealthy off this ambiguity.

Relationships
Rickas (if Byrd throws in) - Kanros honestly liked Rickas better when he was a thief rather than a retired thief that plays the politics game, though he can appreciate the cynicism with which he plays it. They're both mercenaries in a sense, but Kanros sometimes wonders if Rickas' house of cards will ever come tumbling down or not. He regards tracks Rickas' movements, neither friend nor foe necessarily -- there have been times when Rickas has worked the other side of Kanros.

Nasharia - Kanros knows that the Green Woman is grit underneath the silk and he treads carefully. Because her mercantile interests align with his own, they find themselves often partnered on the same ventures in trade. Kanros has deliberately left himself as a man of the people in the sense that he has limited patience for the Nyati district's denizens and little interest in official title but that hardly means he isn't aware of the currents -- his trade depends on such. It's safe to say they keep each other's backs.

Erwun - The Undertaker has assumed the mantle of an avenger of sorts and a vigilante, and is otherwise a good man to know if wounded, but Kanros also knows that the man has little taste for the uglier side of Dara, or the harsh realities of rulership. What happened in Malezus affected them all, but it seems like Erwun was more profoundly affected in the sense that he has limited himself. Kanros considers that a waste of a man's ability, to have so much to grasp but to turn it down. He's not sure what to make of the man's motivations anymore. There was a time when Kanros tried to take Erwun with him on campaign with Jalal, only to be turned abruptly on. A man is free to make his own choices, but Erwun's are not Kanros' and they both know it.

Haljon - Haljon and Kanros were like blood brothers once, but the camraderie wore thin after Melazus when they took two very divergent paths. Forced betimes by circumstances to work together, there is nonetheless a mistrust for one another. Kanros fights for coin and self-advancement, and Haljon fights for duty. So long as the Khavi are not breathing down his neck, Kanros tries to maintain a neutral relationship -- he prefers the city's guards at an arm's length, but also tries to keep the mercenaries he betimes hires to swell Dara's ranks from being overly boisterous or getting into the sort of brawling that would sour matters. Jalal's arrangements with Haljon's predecessor are still in force -- an understanding that the Shield Hall is garrisoned by enough men to hold it in peacetime, but not to disrupt the power balance within the city with an armed camp of warriors. Kanros is generally alright with that -- because it's expensive to keep a standing army and such would probably invite the city to view Kanros as a danger rather than as a benevolent rogue.

Landar - If Landar went back to working as a mercenary, he would have been a rival for Kanros, but he decided to leave the game, possibly around the time Jalal was looking to consolidate Dara's mercenaries into something more guildlike and structured, and now Landar is a good source of information, contracts and recruits, not to mention a man who profits off the lusts of temporarily rich mercenaries looking to spend their gold on extravagances. Does Kanros trust the Blood Rider? Not very much unless there is a mutual benefit to any given arrangement. Kanros knows that the man is not much of a sentimentalist, but is probably an ally for now.

Leytan - Of all the survivors of Melazus, Cxin is the one that seems to have embraced what he saw as some sort of proof that the magic of legends actually exists, somewhere at least. Kanros shies away from this subconsciously, but Cxin does not. There is a degree of fear and resentment there, and Kanros is not sure how far to trust the monk when it comes down to it. Something possessed Pykas and his guards, and what is to say that it cannot possess other dabblers? That is why Kanros looks for ways to proof himself against such a thing. On the other hand, the discipline of the monk is possibly proof against that, but how would Kanros know? In their adventuring days, Leytan was a comrade, though they had distinctly different outlooks on life, but this man is a stranger.

Alaric - Still a thief, still short. Kanros has no issues with the halfling, so long as he's not trying to break into his place. Alaric is a good place to fence the unusual or to find the unusual -- Kanros is a frequent customer at the shop of his old comrade, and indulges in his bauble buying there, but it's not a close relationship.

Ephraim - Ephraim's response to Malezus was to confront it and fight it, whereas Kanros' was to avoid it. Now it seems like Leytan and Ephraim are right and Malezus was more than simply an anomaly-- the old Guardians are dead and now the two men most suited to deal with that issue are at odds. Ephraim's methods are bloodier than Kanros might advocate, in the sense that he feels there is a difference between a fool occultist and a real sorcerer -- see the difference between Alaric and Cyrabassis -- and that Ephraim's zeal needs to be focused. If engaged in his crusade, Ephraim is a player but as a Guardian he has only one focus, and that is to leverage his power into a witch hunt, which is useful enough -- Kanros can trade concessions to get Ephraim's support, or so he figures.
Hidden 9 yrs ago 9 yrs ago Post by Grisette
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Grisette counter-revolutionary terrorist

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Name: Nasharia the Verdant (The Green Woman)
Age: 44
Gender: Female
Race: Human

Physical Description:
Nasharia stands at a relatively diminutive stature at 5'7, but has a proud and unyielding air about her. Her skin is a coppery colour, while her long hair - once fully jet black - now has a streak of silver shot through it. Her eyes are a piercing green colour in stark opposition to the rest of her colouration. Her dress is usually relatively conservative - she favours long, form hiding robes and dresses embroided with elaborate patterns and designs, some of them bearing resemblance to the tapestries of her nomadic homeland, and others in the style of the Daran upper classes. Jewels are sparse but well placed - a golden bangle in the shape of a snake on her wrist, a pair of emerald earrings, and a long gold necklace studded with various tribalist trinkets that jingle amiably as she walks. Her hair is most often worn up, held in place with broaches and various hairpieces. Despite all of this finery, the woman still possesses a lithe and ready stance, the only remnant of her previous life as a hero.


Skillset:
Originally, Nasharia was a herbalist and a healer of great skill. She was adept with fighting, too, using a short wooden stave to beat blows effectively. She still possesses her herbalism and frequently produces tonics and potions of various kinds for use by the various healers of Dara, but since the defeat of Pykas she has branched out into the world of politics, trade and intrigue. She possesses a low cunning and has been a well known trade mogul in Dara for over a decade now, moving spices, weapons and gemstones through the city. Accumulating a small trade empire, she has also acquired the skills of management and stewardship, as well as the ability to survive in the often cut-throat world of politics and trade. She is also an adept public speaker and writer, with an eloquence that has won her many favours.


Far Ancestry:
Thousands of years ago, the lands now occupied by the scattered tribes of the Karavani mountain pass were said to be the home of a great Emerald Kingdom, the Karash'Tala. Oral tradition dictates that this Kingdom's streets were paved with emeralds, and each man lived in a great palace with a thousand goats to his person. The legend goes that their last king, whose name is lost to time, decided that he would build a tower so tall that he could claim the Sun as his own prize and bring it down to his palace. The people laboured for decades to build this great tower from sandstone, but one day a violent sandstorm swept the Kingdom. The sands raged for hundreds of days, engulfing all settlements and sweeping the tower from its foundations. As it collapses, the sand swept for miles outwards, creating the desert plains that the people of the pass know as their home today and destroying Karash'Tala in its entirety. The Karavani hill tribes speak of a chosen Queen known as the 'Ish'Tala' - the Emerald Queen - to bring them once again back to prosperity. This woman will come adorned in emeralds, and will ride from the east on a golden steed with a hundred thousand builders. She will be descended from the last king.


Character History:
Nasharia's history is far less exciting than someone as gregarious as herself would probably have liked. She was born to a couple of traveling herbalists who raised her in the tradition of the hill tribes from which they had both originated, though Nasharia herself has never actually visited them. The family travelled, selling their wares in the various city states around Dara, for many years, peddling herbalist concoctions for a variety of ailments and protections (not all of them legitimate). When she was twenty, Nasharia watched her parents hanged before her by the authorities in Selander. Swearing vengeance on King Pykas, she disappeared into the dusty countryside. She sabotaged caravans and poisoned local officials with herbal concoctions. Eventually the woman known by the King's spymasters as 'The Green Woman' found her way into the ragtag band that would see itself facing off against the rulers of Selander themselves.

Since the death of Pykas and the disappearance of Cyrabassis, Nasharia has largely abstained from mercenary activities and seems to have hung up her adventurer boots. She immediately gained a great deal fame for being the herbalist amongst the group that saved Dara, and so her concoctions were in high demand by the Daran nobility and the lower classes alike - and she was eager to sell. Underestimated occasionally by those who saw her as a simple herbalist from the far off hill tribes, she clawed her way up into the complicated and treacherous world of Daran politics, acquiring a large trade base through coercion, deceit as well as old-fashioned business acumen. One of the city's foremost traders in spice, she eventually gained a magistrate's seat - some say by buying off various members of the Daran government - and has used it to increase her own public profile. A visible and well known figure in Dara, her taste for extravagance and her reputation for political intrigue is known to all who reside in the city more than incidentally.


Psychological Profile:
The death of her parents awakened a violent, driven spirit in Nasharia. She spent years as a terrorist in an attempt to avenge them, and after King Pykas was dead, she found herself briefly devoid of purpose. Unable to let this purposelessness consume her, and buoyed up by the support and fame that she had accrued by her participation in the King's downfall, she immediately dove into the world of politics and trade in order to further her own ambition. The best way to characterise Nasharia would be ambitious. She does, however, hold a special loyalty to Dara as the city that gave a nomadic nobody a life, a home and fortune, and has embraced many faucets of its culture as her own at the expense of what she sees as the barbaric and uncivilised culture of her heritage.


Equipment:
The battered, golden snake bracelet that she wears on her wrist was a gift from her mother, and was said to have been passed down through her family for generations. Intriguing is that it surpasses the level of craftsmanship observed amongst the tribes of the Karavani pass.


Titles/Holdings/Power Base:
Magistrate - the official 'foot in the door' of Daran politics for Nasharia was a position as a magistrate, a position that she is rumoured to use as a springboard for other, more ambitious schemes. Nonetheless, she performs her duties with a well-honed finesse and skill.

Tradeswoman - the owner of a veritable trade empire, Nasharia operates a variety of trade routes bringing exotic spices, cloths and gemstones through Dara on the way to other markets. From this, she has contacts worldwide that she uses to keep a close eye on what can be known of world affairs.

Nasharia lives in a palatial home in the Nyati district, much to the chagrin of the Purebloods around her. It is well-staffed and welcoming, and is designed with large fountains and entertaining rooms - the purpose of its construction is to provide an area to entertain guests and various banquets, rather than as a defensive structure.


Relationships
Kanros - Nasharia sees past the barbarism of Kanros and both values him as a comrade in the often brutal world of trade and respects him for the bond that they forged those years ago. She is, however, still somewhat wary of his eventual intentions. Nonetheless, she realises that maintaining a friendly correspondence with him is essential to maintaining steady trade.

Erwun - The Green Woman had counted Erwun as a friend during the battle against Pykas; his surgery skills complementing her skills as a herbalist, but has distanced herself somewhat from him since he embarked on his new path of vigilantism. She keeps an eye on his doings but is wary that he will attempt to uncover some of the more grey areas of politics and trade in which Nasharia has partaken.

Landar - Nasharia does not necessarily like Landar, but she does have a respect for him as a man of careful deliberation and planning as opposed to a bloodthirsty brute. She also recognises the value of his many venues, and supplies spice and other foreign luxury imports in exchange for occasional snippets of damning information about her political rivals. This collusion has been one of the reasons why Nasharia has been able to blackmail and scheme her way upwards. She does, however, remain wary about Landar's capacity to ruin her own reputation.

Haljon - She recognises Haljon's importance in maintaining civil order in Dara, but does not seem to believe that he is as politically quick as Landar or Kanros. Nonetheless, Nasharia has a respect for the work that Haljon, even if she considers him (perhaps wrongly) a political non-entity.

Leytan - Nasharia feels especially close to Leytan - their shared heritage and his interest in the return of magic attracted the herbalist to a friendship with the monastic man, whom cultural norms have demanded she respect. She recognises his worth perhaps more than many of the others, and seeks to have him as first and foremost on her side, both for his skills as a warrior and the learning that he is cultivating.

Alaric - Perhaps fittingly, Nasharia had almost forgotten that Alaric still existed in the years between their last meeting and their next. He had fallen off of her radar almost entirely, she having decided that he was too emotionally disturbed by the battle with Pykas to be of any use to her new upward struggle. Nonetheless, she does not dislike him - though, like Haljon, she does seem him as a political non-entity.

Ephraim - Much like with Erwun, Nasharia fears that Ephraim has the capacity to unveil something unsavoury about Nasharia's personal habits - and though any interest in the occult is kept strictly out of the private eye by The Green Woman, she has kept a close eye on the way that Ephraim investigates his crimes. As of yet unsure as to whether it would be possible to use him as a political weapon to distract interest from her own doings at some point, she has in many ways written him off as damaged beyond repair in much the same way as Alaric.

Hidden 9 yrs ago 9 yrs ago Post by Athinar
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Athinar Big Stupid. Veteran from Oldguild.

Member Seen 1 yr ago

Name: Erwun Calfrace, "The Undertaker"
Age: 38
Gender: Male
Race: Human
Physical Description: Erwun is a thin, spindly man who stands taller than most others, pale face stretched over a hawklike nose, sharp cheekbones, and a pinched chin. His ever-changing hazel eyes are almost never visible under his sandy blonde hair. He wears tight-fitting clothing under large, billowy capes and coats. Despite this, he has been described as having a sort of exotic beauty, almost like that of an elf.

Skillset:
Undertaking: Due to his being born to an undertaker father, Erwun knows every method of corpse preperation, enbalming, and burial, even those of other races.

Surgery: Due to his close work with dead people, Erwun knows the anatomy of live ones, and can perform surgery, although he might need the assistance of a good herbalist to keep the patient from taking ill.

Arsenal Combat: Erwun, rather than becoming a superior fighter with one weapon, trained with several odd, exotic weapons and gadgets. (Think Van Helsing repeater crossbow, smoke bombs, and extendable spear.) He is also a fair brawler, able to fight his way out of most situations.

Far Ancestry: Once, there was an elf. He lived alone, a disgrace to his people, for some trespass long forgotten. He lived on the borders of their then-empire, just outside a human village, a small crafting town of barely 200. This was still when the elves lived to be ancient, so over the years, there came to be a legend of a phantom in the woods. Some stories said that he was the vengeful ghost of the forest, others, a man, looking for his love long lost. Those stories were always taken as such, though, and never given much thought.

Once, there was a girl who grew up on the stories of the mysterious phantom of the woods. This girl grew up to be a woman, quite beautiful, in fact. She was the most desired woman of the village, yet, always the most unattaible, her heart yearning to know what the phantom was. One day, when she was in the woods, collecting berries and roots, she got her wish.

When he was on watch, guarding the town he had grown so close to, even if he could never be accepted by them, the elf saw the most beautiful thing in the world. In a brash act that would set off a monumental sqeuence of events, he revealed himself to the woman. They fell in love, and even though they tried to keep it secret, the village found out when the woman became pregnant.

Most in the village were surprisingly acceptant of the elf, but this peace wouldn't last. As soon as word got out, a band of elves came to punish the man who dared father a child with a lesser race. This resulted in everyone in the village, except the woman and unborn child, getting killed. The child grew up in a town, far away from that tragic history, and fathered a line of men with diluted elf blood. When magic was still around, his line benefited from good health, magnificent looks, and long life(at least, long by human standrds.) However, the only benifit left, with magic gone, are their dashing good looks.

Character History:
Erwun was raised in the Yamiss district, son to an undertaker and a spice merchant, although his mother died when he was quite young. However, this didn't detract from his childhood, the fact that his father worked in graveyards, and that his mother was dead, because his father loved him enough for two people.

Despite his happy childhood, his teenage years strained his relationship with his father somewhat, as others looked down upon his family for their profession. This meant that he wandered the streets, getting into trouble, and causing it. However painful his relationship with his father was, he still kept up the cheerful demeanor, surprising some. Then, everything changed. His father was murdered by several of Pykas' men, as they were walking home from the Zalot District. Luckily, some of the heroes were there already, and killed the soldiers before they could harm Erwun.

Initially, they were sort of reluctant to have him with them, because he was sixteen at the time, until he had proven his prowess by taking a crossbow, and making it shoot quickly, by adding a lever and bolt chamber, and creating other such weapons. Although he wasn't a weaponsmith, Erwun showed a surprising aptitude for creating such weapons, so they took him along.

Erwun is one of the heroes that didn't formally 'retire', seeing the corruption in Dara, even though Pykas was gone. However, even without going back into the limelight, he was one of the more popular 'heroes', as the dashing young man charmed many young (and older) women. He was also popular among the young boys, as they all wanted to be him. Despite this, he has not yet returned, despite popular demand, although the call to be a Guardian might be too much to ignore. He has since devoted himself to uprooting the criminal element in Dara, and has earned himself the title of 'The Undertaker'. Apt, considering his day job. He still does burials and funeral ceremonies, and even the odd surgery, in a pinch.

Psychological Profile:
Erwun used to be a bright and happy man, even though he was caught up in something way beyond him, in the fight against Pykas. However, when they fought Cyrabassis, something changed. Not even the other heroes know what happened, as he was separated from everyone else, falling into a pit, which led to tunnels below the citadel. When he emerged, he was trembling, holding onto the head of a fallen... thing, and covered in blood, from head to toe. Luckily, he was there to help fight Cyrabassis, but everyone could tell that there was something off about him now. He became more sardonic and mocking, and even slightly nihilistic. However, he still is a good person, under all the gruff, and shows affection in his own... special way.

Equipment:
Undertaker's Tools- Erwun has all of the tools necessary to perform burials, embalm corpses, and take care of graves.
Autopsy/Surgery Kit- He has the tools for performing an autopsy on corpses, which can double as surgeon's tools.
Arsenal- Erwun has a large arsenal of oddball weapons, ranging from a repeating lever-action crossbow, to a telescoping spear, to a bizarre bola-launcher.

Titles/Holdings/Power Base:
Erwun has a large funeral business, called Calfrace Funeral Services, which provides services for whatever kind of funeral for any race. It is the largest organization of undertakers, elven garden caretakers, dwarven tomb carvers, and embalmers in the Yamiss district, and that's saying something. About the time of the beginning of the roleplay, they have gotten so large as to consider applying for Guild status.

He also has a small network of vigilantes and bounty hunters that he keeps in touch with, to help with his crime-fighting activities. They are all either very skilled or above average at the very least, and were attracted to him by his cause, his money, or his former glory. However, they only get together once a month to trade information, and plan larger-scale operations.

Relationships
Kanros the Raven- Erwun used to admire him as a hero, but nowadays dislikes his self-centeredness. However, he still respects him, and views him as a trusted comrade.
Nasharia the Verdant- He used to think she was hot. Still does, but is put off by her ambition. Again, views her as a comrade, and friend.
Haljon- Used to be his close friend. Now, he blames him for abandoning him in the tunnels below Cyrabassis' citadel. Doesn't want to have anything to do with him, but if he does, will constantly be at odds with most everything he says or does.
Cxin Djwal Leytan- Disliked the nervous, timid young man who was in the group before Cyrabassis. Likes his self-assuredness, but doesn't like his personal detachment, nowadays.
Linric Tealeaf- His one best friend, before and after Cyrabassis. They used to write each other, but now they have drifted apart. He still views him as a close friend, however.
Hidden 9 yrs ago 9 yrs ago Post by Meth Quokka
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Character Sheet
Name: Landar "The Blood Rider" Exius
Age: 47
Gender: Male
Race: Human
Physical Description:
An average height man around 5'9, he still remains on the lean side despite a post adventuring life of comfort and indulgence, with the creeping invasion of paunch held off witj a casual exercise routine. His blank grey eyes reflect little of the life contained within them, nor the budding thoughts and considerations occuring behind them. His once black hair is kept short, betraying the thinning and greying, reflecting the many years of hard living as does his weatherbeaten face. He keeps his facial hair to a stubble, shaving it every few days in order to halt the ienvitable growth. His wardrobe mainly conisists of well made darker colour leather clothes and riding boots, preferring the functionality of leather to the luxury of silk.

Skillset:
Landar made his fortune with sword and knife, knowing he was a capable enough swordsman to better most but his true talent was with the eight bone handled throwing knives he used to keep on his person. Many a better fighter had found themselves on the wrong side of one of those knives with Landar preferring surviving to fighting honorably against better men. As such much of his prowess was built on fast and dirty fighting, adapting to his surroundings and innovating ways of ending the fight. Through his time in various mercenary companies he became an adept leader of men with his grasp of strategy fitting him far better than frontline armour ever did. One of the finest horsemen in Dara, he primarily used to command cavalry regiments using lightining attacks and skirmish tactics. Since his retirement he's mainly been focused on growing his hospitality business and soewhat more covert information network, learning to manage and govern a number of agents across the city. A naturally manipulative man, his time as a cavalry general and patron for the city mean he has only grown more and more skilled at twisting and turning people how he desires.

Far Ancestry:
In the times of magic and monsters, there had been a renegade named Korin of undeniable skill and speed who's deeds where of legend, acts blown out into mythical actions that reflect naught of the world that now exists. These actions were wide and varied dependent on where you travelled but often consisted of challenging gods at various tasks requiring speed and reaction time, riding a horse formed from the storm clouds, wooing godesses and fighting all manner of mythical beasts. Much of his legend was based around the uncertain morality of the man but he is best known for the retrieval of the Sword of Galgomir and the slaying of the Dread Hydra. The tale of the Sword of Galgomir is a tale of one man's ride through monster infested lands to retrieve an artefact that saved the city of Galgomir from a dark sorcerer. The slaying of the Dread Hyrda has evolved to the extent that it was a twenty headed beast that was slain using daggers of dragon's teeth, where the heads were defesated faster than they could regenerate. All in all, the stories of Korin reflect the morality of an unlikely hero and transmit the messsage that even rogues can find it within themselves to become heroes. Few families claim heritage from him due to many of the man's darker acts but the few that do claim some sort of ancient artefact as proof.

Character History:
Born and raised on a wagon train, Landar travelled from village to village, city to city never growing attached to one person and being raised by the community as a whole. His father, a former adventurer whose career had been ended by a crossbow bolt through his shoulder has been bitter and bored with the life but always tried to stay positive and raise his son. His mother had been a village girl who'd fallen for a mysterious adventurer and been whisked away into what she thought would be a life of adventure and glory. The wagon train fulfilled neither of those things, but provided a comfortable and vibrant community for their two sons and their sole daughter to grow up in. While it wasn't always safe, often moving throw all manner of bandit infested passes, the train was large enough that few groups dared attack it. The nomadic life was pleasant but dull to Landar who was always far more interested sitting wide eyed listening to the many stories of great heroes, dashing rogues and dark villians. With his mind set on being a great adventurer he sought to learn the many tricks of the trade from the people around him; a wagon guard who'd been a former cavalryman taught him to ride and fight with a sword, a hunter taught him to survive in the wild and to track, the merchants how to haggle and barter. His favourite lessons were always from Memnir, a former acrobat and street performer who'd been nigh on faultless with throwing a blade. This melting pot proved a good training ground for an aspiring adventurer. When he reached his sixteenth summer, after two years of chafing for freedom from the wagon train, having been kept there to continue learning by his father, he set off with a list of his father's contact and a pouch of silvers to find his way in the world.

He left behind his family and community, loving the next few years of freedom and fighting, gathering wealth and investing portions of it as his father had reccomended, his words of you never know when it'll end and the man's ruined shoulder always came to mind after he was paid. By the time he was 22, he was in and out of mercenary companies, fighting when the pay was good enough and taking private contracts when the wars died down. He became a bodyguard, an assassin, an explorer and a business owner; buying a tavern in the Unah district which became a haunt for all manner of adventurers and mercenaries. Contracts were posted and taken in his tavern, requiring no portion of pay to go to him as the money brought on by the increased business more than covered it. The tavern life was boring but profitable, with the tidy sums being invested with merchants or into new gear for Landar. Before long he found himself gathering bands of men and taking larger and larger contracts out before the news of King Pykas' seizing of Dara led to a generous offer of men to come to fight for the city. With the promise of coin greater than any previous job he joined but by the end the demons of the catacombs haunted him then then on. He sought more and more blood and he jumped on the opportunity when a great war broke out over the seas between the kingdoms of Varne, Noxal and Marthol. Aged 28 now and with 12 years of adventuring under his belt, he gathered his contacts of fighters, killer and mercenaries and invested the majority of his spare money into forming a mercenary cavalry company of his own. With even his tavern on the line, courtesy of a loan worth as much as the venue, it was a huge gamble on the part of Landar but one that paid off. Their numbers grew as time went on and the legend of the Lightning company grew, so named for their ability to strike with such speed that defense was seemingly impossible. This success was due to the initial investment in the company, as he'd hired some of the best around to form his inner circle and the nucleus of their force. It was with this force that his epithet of the Blood Rider was drawn; the company was known for their brutal attacks on villages and towns driving great populaces to the cities, weakening their siege resistance.

The name was also driven somewhat on Landar's part with the fear of that repuation proving an adept weapon, he'd equipped with forces with blood-red armour and a standard of a sea of blood. After a few years of this, he realised the release he sought was not through blood and killing but he needed to try some other method. He passed off command and his stake in the Lightning company and sought new lands. In his late thirties now he carried the weight of his many battles on his shoulders and the much greater weight of the fortune he'd gathered. He invested in taverns and brothels, taking his experience from that first tavern he bought and applying it to gain the information of the city. Whilst his reputation followed him as the Blood Rider, it proved a handy tool in negotiations and bartering as the fear that name struck to weaker willed merchants threw them off their best. Settling into city life to try and bury the bloodlust he felt, he busied himself with controlling the entertainment of the city and absorbing much of the information that abounds from drunken lips and sated lovers.

Psychological Profile:
Landar had always been manipulative and less than caring about human life, with a view of advancing his own name and legend at any cost to those around him. He'd been friendly and cooperative on the outside in order to build the contacts he'd need but kept his darker instincts in his heart hidden. The catacombs of Melazus had darkened his heart from the uncaring nature it'd been to have a sort of bloodlust, as if a demon was inside him always demanding sacrifice. He found it much harder to keep up the friendly charade and was outwardly far more serious as the scars of his soul burned through any attempts at positivity. The bloodlust was once theorised by a priest to be born on his own feelings of inadequacy after he'd found on several occasions that his blades had not been able to pierce the dark magics of Cyrabassis. Nightmares of blood and death still plague him but far less after he drowned them with a sea of blood of his own doing. In his later years, he's become far more aloof and machiavellian but still finds enjoyment in the company of others.

Equipment:
With a armouries full of weapons, both old and exotic, none of which he actually uses but keeps as souvenirs of a curious life, his most prized possesions are that of the supposedly ancient baldric of Korin, which had empowered the throwing knives he'd kept in them. Forged from some cloudy, black leather of unknown origin it had survived for aeons in a musty temple before Landar had liberated it with his father's tales of their supposed descendant from the mythological figure. Most days he still carries two of his countless pearl white bone-handled throwing knives on his person and is known to frequent his stable of grand horses for rides most days of the week. Were he ever to need it, his Lightning company armour remains well kept in his house, along with many of his other armour he'd once worn.

Titles/Holdings/Power Base:
Landar has transferred his hard gathered fortune into a portfolio of brothels, taverns and wineries which serve as social hotspots across the various classes of social living in Dara. These serve as both information and recruitment centres, with his shadier holdings known for being a gathering of fighters and killers to be recruited by mercenary bands and his middle class taverns were known as the starting place of many a business relationship. The jewel in the crown of his portfolio is a palace-like bath-house built in the place of a former pureblood mansion, where many of the social elite travel to for recreation, using the many baths, massage tables and other opulent services. Much of the information gathered in secret here can fetch a hefty price should the need for such a sale to ever occur, although Landar has stuck to gathering information for his own uses rathering than brokering his services out.

Although he holds no official position of power, his brothels and taverns leave him as quite popular with the common people despite his infamous reputation and his bath-house leaves with many contacts amongst the most wealthy and powerful of Dara. Offering deals and discounts to the city watch in his taverns and prominent military connections with his bath-house, he keeps strong relationships with both the guards and those that command them.

Relationships
Kanros:
As a promiment member of the Dara military and in a position of some wealth, Landar has taken some steps to rebuiliding the camradarie they'd once had before the catacombs. His here have been twofold, firstly to try and place the idea of recruiting from Landar's taverns in order to drive business and secondly to keep cordial relations with the city's military.

Nasharia:
Landar still has trouble connecting the now cold and ambitious tradeswoman to what had once been a enraged and vengeance driven herbalist when they'd first met all those years ago. He still recognises the worth of a politician on your side, along with the need for spices in most of his venues and as such offered the hand of friendship to his former comrade.

Erwun:
Wary of the man's newfound desire to exterminate the criminal element of Dara, many of whom find refuge in his estabilishments, Landar has kept a bit colder on him as opposed to his attempts to reopen old relationships. A little dismissive of how he stuck around in Dara for the adulation and affection of the city, especially after the events of the catacombs but he still recognises a potential adversary.

Haljon
Extending similar courtesies to Haljon as he did with Kanros and much of the political and military elite of Dara, Landar has sought to build a semblance of cordiality. Though he finds the man's physical prowess and stature a force to be reckoned with, the effects of the catacombs on the man poses some serious questions to Landar. By all reports, the light had been burned out of him and most times when he drank, Landar made a small fortune off wheat ale.

Leytan:
Somewhat amused by the man's conversion to priesthood and taking of the monk's vows, he is wary for the potential of fanaticism. After what they all went through in the catacombs, he does value the occult knowledge that he may possess especially after the recent killing on the guardians.

Alaric:
The half long has been amiable enough to get along and a good thief but he'd been broken in those catacombs. Unable to fight the creatures nor stand up the the dark arts, he'd ruined his standings in Landar's eyes. Furthermore as their were each affected in their own way, disagreements were unavoidable and Landar has almost pity for how little his ambitions were.

Ephraim:
The passion of the man towards hunting the occult was commendable but the borderline fanaticism on his part was mildly amusing albeit slightly dangerous, an effective tool when he'd been able to manipulate the shadows to bring targets to his attention. The potential for the man's unfettered hunting as a Guardian was a point of concern however as Guardians were often judged on their group performance as opposed to individuals.
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Hidden 9 yrs ago 9 yrs ago Post by Sypherkhode822
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So I was looking at the other characters, and I realized that there was a potentially harmful deficiency of Shaolin monks, and I decided to fix this problem.

Name:: Cxin (Surname given to all monks) Djwal (Name indicating his rank in Order ) Leytan (name give to him by his parents, the only thing he can inherit from them) Most refer to him simply by his first name, Leytan.
Age:: 43
Gender/Sex:: Man on both counts.
Race:: Human
Physical Description::
Shorter than most Darans, Leytan is muscular in a wiry way, and is still incredibly agile. His scalp is shaved, and he sports a close cropped beard. His face shows that he is no stranger to hardships, though his laugh lines are prominent on his face. His hands are callused, and on his wrist he wears a horsehair bracelet with blue colored beads, an indication of his rank in the order. He dresses in traditional linen monk robes, which is reminiscent of Shaolin monk garments, though his are a pale blue, to indicate that he is a master in the order. The only other jewelry Leytan wears is a horsehair necklace, which holds a wooden clasp. Inside the clasp is a picture of his niece. His robes holds a multitude of daggers and bolas. On the nape of his neck is a blue tattoo of the Cxinatroan seal, a complex design that can only be done by another inducted Master of the Order.
Skillset:
Master of the Cxinatroan Order: Leytan is a member of the Cxinatroan Order, which boasts of a prestigious and deadly martial art style which teaches its disciples how to combat better armed and larger groups of enemy's, giving it the name 'Wolf Hunter' style, a reference to lone monks fending off armored bandits and highwaymen seeking easy prey. It incorporates the usage of small thrusting daggers tipped with poisons that immobilize muscles and weapons meant to incapacitate enemy's, like the bola, as well as unarmed prowess, with spinning kicks and quick jabs allowing for a single person to move between combatants quickly, defeating someone before their allies have time to respond. In combat, a Cxinatroan monk is rarely still, they are always moving between positions as they dart between combatants. The Cxinatroan Order is also a philosophy, teaching it's disciples discipline, letting them subsist without nourishment for weeks while meditating, and to empty the mind of all thoughts, allowing for total recall of previous events. A Master is someone who has achieved perfect discipline over their own body and mind, letting divine enlightenment occur. All Masters are taught the ancient secrets, abilities that would allow practitioners to fly through the air, set their bodies on fire without harm, live for centuries, walk on water, and other miraculous acts. Despite knowing the proper rituals on how to make these miracles occur, no Master has been able to practice the secret techniques.
Survivor: Leytan is accustomed to living off of the land, and is able to hunt and forage for food, as well as weaving ropes and nets from vines. He is comfortable in the wilderness, and will not suffer greatly.
Scholar: After the adventure, Leytan spent a decade wandering the world, learning as much as he could about magic, wishing to understand what he had faced against with Cyrabassis. It was at this time he learned of the Secret Techniques inside his Order, and he devoted himself to understanding them. Leytan is now the eminent scholar on Cxinatroan mystic techniques outside of the High Monastery. He also knows most legends and myths from the previous eras.
Assassin: Leytan, during his travels, sold his abilities to pay for the old tomes he needed. Because of this, Leytan can craft deadly poisons, powerful antivenins, as well as the numbing poisons used by Cxinatroan monks for their daggers. Leytan is skilled at hiding in the shadows, blending into the crowds, and striking silently and quickly without detection with bow and arrow. Although Leytan has renounced his deeds, he still relies on the skills he picked up occasionally.
Far Ancestry::
The Cxinatroan Order was established millennia ago by fleeing scholars and priests from the rapid desertification of Karash'Tala. But instead of settling among the rest of the refugees in the foothills of the Karavani mountains, the scholars and priests, settled high up in the mountains, renouncing the fallibility and hubris of man, dedicating themselves to a life of ascetic pursuit of contemplation and tranquility. They did alright for a while, building the starts of a grand monastery, and beginning the dialogue that would shape the Cxinatroan philosophy, raising sheep and trading for supplies they couldn't make themselves with small settlements that dotted the mountains. Yet over time, the monastery's began to be raided by bandits, who attacked the monks, knowing they wouldn't be able to fight back. It was at this time the wandering warrior Cxinata came to the monastery, and, after becoming a devotee to the monks philosophy of inner enlightenment, decided to train the monks in combat, to be able to resist the bandits. It became apparent quickly that they would never be able to perform like an ordinary militia, they did not have any weapons, just bows and slings for hunting small game, which, while capable of holding off an invader for a brief time, were not enough when they broke through the gates and were within striking distance. So Cxinata, inspired by morning exercises the monks did to stay flexible after long hours of sitting perfectly still, began to teach them unarmed self defense, incorporating the ascetic philosophies that shaped the monks thoughts. The monks took to this idea splendidly, and soon began to improve upon the original teachings with different techniques, quickly becoming so deadly that any bandit seeking an easy task of looting the monastery were in for a surprise when the monks fought back with distressing skill. Cxinata, after a time, became the head of the Order and made it great, recruiting by the thousands into the swelling ranks of the warrior monks, who sold their services to warlords in exchange for protection and the privilege to spread the word of the Order. In honor of Cxinata, the Order adopted the name of the martial art that he created. And so the Cxinatroan Order was born. As time went on, the Masters of the Cxinatroan order reached divine inner enlightenment, and began to practice the miracles that were so famed. Eventually, the Order began to grow smaller, with less miracles being able to occur, until they were almost all forgotten about, both the Secret Techniques and the Cxinatroan Order, until most did not even know of them.
Character History:
Leytan was given to the Cxinatroan order at birth, his parents were shepherds in a nearby village who had too many children. The only thing Leytan has to remember them is his name. Leytan was considered a minor prodigy in the monastery, he was an incredibly skilled fighter, and was considered to be incredibly close to enlightenment when he was 18, an almost unheard of age, especially when most only achieve enlightenment well into adulthood. However, his Master decided that Leytan would not be able to reach enlightenment kept inside the sheltered walls of the Order, and so he ordered Leytan to travel the world for five years, and only to return after five years, or once he reached enlightenment. And so Leytan left, with nothing to his name but his robes, his daggers and bolas, and a backpack with some food in it. Leytan spent time with the Hill Tribes, and he left the Karavani mountains with a trade caravan headed towards Dara, serving as a guard. When he reached Dara, he fell in with a group of adventurers, hoping that he would reach enlightenment with that motley crue crew of vagabonds. When they were called upon to defeat Cyrabassis, it was deep within the catacombs, when he was surrounded on all sides by death, did he find enlightenment. That was where he changed, leaving behind his nervous, uncertain demeanor of a pupil, and accepted the calm, self-possessed drive of a Master. After the battle was finished, Leytan was aware that Cyrabassis was merely the first of many, and decided that he would learn as much as he could of magic. Once the rest of the group left the catacombs, they noted the disappearance of Leytan, accepting it as a hard and disappointing loss. Leytan, however, was returning to the Great Monastery's for his final portion of training until he became a Master of his own. It was at the time he began to study the Secret Techniques, that he met his sister, who, ostracized from the rest of the family and dying of a slow sickness, entrusted him with the care of her daughter, a young girl of five. Leytan accepted his niece into his care, loving her like his own, despite being discouraged by the other Monks. When Leytan eventually left the Order behind to travel in pursuit of his studies, he brought Bryla, his niece, with him, teaching her how to be a monk. Leytan eventually returned to Dara, after letting his friends believe he was dead for nearly a decade, a completely different person with a completely different set of morals. He has since then spent his time running a successful fighting academy, splitting his time between caring for his now teenaged niece, teaching his disciples the Cxinatroan martial arts and philosophy, and continuing his studies into the occult.
Psychological Profile:
Leytan, who fundamentally changed as a person after achieving personal enlightenment, is convinced that magic is returning to the world, and has spent much of his life studying it, having traveled far and wide in his search. He rarely speaks of such things, aware of the skepticism most people have. Leytan is also now rarely uncertain or self-aware, his total understanding of his place in the universe has changed him from the nervous young man he once was. He still does not seek out romantic relationships, even though he is not celibate, - another difference he has from the rest of the Cxinatroan Order - Leytan does not allow himself to become attached to anyone, the only exceptions being his students, his niece, and the former members of his adventuring group.
Equipment:
The poisons, daggers, and bolas as befitting a Master of the Cxinatroan Order. A powerful bow he used from his time as an assassin. And though he can't carry it with him, a small library on magic and the occult, including priceless treatises on magic written from the time of the Gods. The scrolls showing the Cxinatroan Secret techniques, possession of which by anyone but a Master is punished with death.
Titles/Holdings/Power Base:
Leytan is the Master of a small, prestigious Cxinatroan academy in the Shava district. He teaches the Cxinatroan arts with the authority vested in him as an inducted Master of the Cxinatroan academy. He teaches the martial arts which he offers to people of all classes for a fee, and teaches the philosophies to those he think have the aptitude. Leytan's disciples have gone on to be members of all walks of life, from lowly thieves and fishermen to pureblood heirs. All remember fondly of Master Leytan, and are always willing to assist him in some way. Many of his disciples are members of the city guard, as well as not a small number of the captains. Leytan has also established himself as an authority in the occult, and many consider him to be among the most knowledgeable peoples on magic.
Relationships:
Kanros: Leytan had always respected the Northerner, and considered him a friend. However, he thought that the Barbarian was something of a brute, and, since returning, has considered his superstitious fears laughable. Leytan never underestimated Kanros's martial prowess, though Leytan occasionally bemoans the lack of formal training he has received.
Nashaira: Leytan feels especially close to the herbalist, as, when he was a young apprentice seeking to reach Enlightenment, Nashaira was a comforting presence against homesickness. Nashaira also reminded him of his duties to protect the weak, and though he never thought of her as thus, Leytan has always been defensive of Nashaira.
Erwun: Leytan had liked the young boy during the quest, and, though being older than him, often asked of his opinion, especially with questions of weapons. Now, however, Leytan pity's Erwun, and thinks that he is so unsettled because he cannot find his place in the world, and has approached Erwun in an attempt to help him.
Landar: Leytan had never fully trusted the rogue, seeing him as someone too focused on the material, and neglecting his spiritual needs. Since Leytan has returned, his opinion of Landar has only strengthened.
Halijon: Leytan used to find the gruff, boisterous young man something like a puppy, pleasant to be around, a fun laugh, yet ultimately not someone to rely upon. Since Leytan has returned, he finds himself disappointed in Halijon, someone who has been unable to come to terms with the return of magic. Leytan remains polite, though his distaste for the drunk is an open secret.
Alaric: Leytan is fond of the halfling, having never seen one before until he met Alaric. During their adventuring days, Leytan showed Alaric a few combat moves that would be useful for someone not possessing great strength. In return, Alaric spoke of the constellations of his people, a fond memory that he recalls whenever he looks up at the night sky. Now, however, Leytan is unimpressed with Alaric's studies into the occult, considering it mummery. He does, however, visit his collections on occasion to further his research.
Ephraim:
Leytan has always been unsettled by the Elf, originally it was because of Leytan's worshipful awe at his martial prowess, and now it is because he is aware of Ephraim's hatred of Leytan's knowledge. Leytan wishes that Ephraim would realize his folly, but has instead contented himself to being on his guard whenever Ephraim is within striking distance of his swords.
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Hidden 9 yrs ago 9 yrs ago Post by Brother Tumbo
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Name: Alaric Tealeaf
Age: 45
Gender: Male
Race: Halfling
Physical Description:
Alaric has long hair, dark and graying on the sides, usually pulled into a ponytail. Mutton chops cut across his jawline, an auburn color, contrasting the black and gray of his hair. Despite his years, Linric seems to have kept up his physical condition, his face charmingly angular and ruddy. His frame, while not as flat-bellied as it once was, is not as doughy as most of the other folks on the street. His dress stays rather bland, favoring loose pants, billowy shirts, bowler hats and vests with many pockets.

Skillset:
While Alaric hates the stereotype, it was his ability go places where you shouldn’t go, to see and hear things you weren’t supposed to see and hear, and acquire things that others had already acquired, that led to him joining the band of heroes.

Since the days of Pykas’s downfall, Alaric has given up on burglary. Mostly. After disrupting the ritual in the dark chambers of Melazus, Alaric was scarred in a way that only he could understand. He needed to know what had happened. He needed to know why it had happened. He sought to collect books, tomes of eldritch knowledge, ancient manuscripts written in long dead languages, artifacts of interest or dubious history. Anything out of the ordinary. Most were obtained from wandering peddlers, others brought to him from conspicuous agents, and some were right out pilfered by Alaric to further his collection and broaden his knowledge on the arcane and the otherworldly.

Far Ancestry:
Alaric doesn’t know much about his ancestry. His father was arrested and stoned to death for picking the pocket of a local noble and doing it wrong. His mother ran the home and worked the fields after his father’s death. He was always more adventurous than his siblings, ruffling the feathers of his community regularly. His mother had always said, “There ain’t no famous halflings, so take off that cape and pull these carrots.” To be honest, Alaric probably should have just pulled the carrots.

Character History:
Alaric grew up restless. His home was a tiny little farming hamlet (more of a concentration camp for halflings, as hindsight would lend) that he wanted nothing to do with. To dig the soil and feel the dirt under your toes, praising Yon for the gift of farming, was not the life Linric had in mind. He was served his first dish of what could be when he heard that his father had been executed for his “unruly nature”. His father, a peddler of ceramics, was stoned to death for the robbery of a minor noble from a city in the west. It had no real effect on the young Alaric, as his father was never really home. What had changed was that now they only got to eat meat once a week. At the age of seventeen, Alaric left his village and shortly thereafter he earned the illustrious title of “common thief” in Dara. For a while he robbed houses and picked pockets, before plying his hand at a smuggling operation based in and around the city. It was in the course of his smuggling that he ran across the heroic band and flooded Melazus.
After Melazus, Alaric’s mind was scarred. He stalled when the sorcerer’s power flared. He had broken when those beasts were called. He did nothing, he remembered little; the others jolting into action, how brave they had been in that moment, and he did nothing.

His brief encounter with the arcane and otherworldly power had marred his sanity and his thirst to know more compelled him. He searched for anything that could explain what he could not comprehend. Over the years his obsession had turned into his livelihood. Where once he merely collected and studied obscure artifacts and mysterious grimoires, in time he had become an established librarian and curio collector. Both commoners and scholars alike come to view his life’s work, a sprawling stone building loaded with oddities and curiosities. Because of this, he has many odd ties throughout the city, from networks of intellectuals, to bands of adventurers, to old hermits living in peaty bogs, praying to stumps.

After the death of the previous guardians, Alaric went into a frenzy. After he’d heard of the flame scorched marble walls and the way the guardians were slaughtered, Alaric was almost always in meetings, with the aristocracy, with his peers, and with the stump worshipping hermits. He’d something like this once before, and this time he would do something

Psychological Profile:
Alaric remembers very little about the actual confrontation, and from his recollection he did near to nothing in those crucial moments. He was struck by a singular desire: to understand the power that Cyrabassis summoned. While the fire of that passion has dimmed somewhat, it still flickers there, and Alaric has no qualms with breaking rules to further his goals. He seems to have changed only little outwardly. His sides went grey, and he became a (mostly) legitimate businessman and scholar. His demeanor stayed true, ever inquisitive and always willing to mediate, but he barely speaks of the day the stopped that madness.

Equipment:
In his shop, Alaric has much equipment, but most of it is stationary and archaic and probably too alien to use anyway. Odd mechanisms that promise to see the stars via glass disks, and ectospectrometers and other such nonsense. While in the shop, he has various sets of glasses for different distances, a jeweler’s kit, notebooks, and a large knife, most of which he fits in his vest, with exception to the knife, which hangs casually at his side, an odd sight for a person who essentially equates to a museum curator.
While on a job of “Dubious Circumstance” _____ is likely to carry a climbing kit, a mask, a large bag, a lockpick set, wire, a crowbar, and the same knife, but this time much more carefully hidden.
The knife itself isn’t that important, a piece of foreign steel with dark dancing stripes that swirl and spiral throughout the blade, and a hilt made out of what someone once assured him was a honest-to-goodness dragon tooth. While the hilt is probably just antler, the steel is good and almost never needs to be sharpened.

It is worth mentioning that the shop is not entirely uninhabited. Alaric has kept in shape all these years by running with his two dogs. A pair of massive, slobbering beasts; Cinder and Tusk, are hulking mastiffs that guard the shop. Local children are positive that the hell beasts eat unruly kids, but it’s mostly just an old wives tale. (Mostly.)

Titles/Holdings/Power Base:
Tealeaf Curio: Books and Baubles (We Always Buy!) - Proprietor
Stoneface Street Voluntary Neighborhood Watch Committee - Chief of Security
The Gentlepersons’s Cabal of Arcane Practice* -Vice-President

* A group of about a dozen rotating individuals (male and female, as Lady Winthorpe once put forth a compelling argument about equality, thus nixing the “Gentlemen’s” in the club title formerly, and substituting the “Gentleperson’s”.) who get fabulously drunk, show each other their most recent acquisitions in the realm of the occult, and attempt to summon dead ancestors to play cards with them. To this day they haven’t summoned anything more exciting than a sigh, but a very ancient noblemen died during a séance once, and the Cabal refrained from assembling for six months out of fear.

Relationships:

Kanros: Kanros and Alaric never had much of a bond. Kanros had forged his way through life with force, be it the force of his will or the force of his arm. While Alaric had always held a deep respect for the man and all he had achieved, the two could never find common ground. After that day, they had as little to do with each other as they had in the time before.

Nasharia: While Alaric had enjoyed Nasharia’s company once, her acumen of draughts and ointments never ceased to amaze him and had been an unending font of delight, it was her ambitious inclinations after the confrontation that caused Alaric to cut ties with the woman. Having no interest in politicians or their ilk, Alaric and Nasharia simply drifted apart over the years, neither one of them running in the same circles and neither one caring to reach out to the other.

Erwun: Alaric had liked Erwun from the beginning. With a custom crossbow and an arsenal other neat gadgets, Erwun had been both an enlightening and educational companion. Even after Melazus, Erwun and Alaric could be seen walking the streets or talking hurriedly conversing over smeared diagrams of a baroque mechanism. More and more, however, Erwun had other business to attend to, and Alaric himself had something he’d been meaning to read anyway. A passing letter every six months had become the routine, more of a chore than a correspondence, if it even got done.

Haljon: Haljon, like Kanros, had very little in common with Alaric, and much of the time Alaric remained aloof and respectful of Haljon. They barely spoke, but when they did, the conversation flowed for hours, the affable Haljon speaking of his myths, and Alaric, studiously recording them, and occasionally responding with legends of his own. Afterward, life took its course, and the brief friendship was snuffed out as quickly as it was lit. Alaric craved answers, and Haljon was content to swing swords.

Leytan: Before Melazus, Leytan and Alaric were friendly toward each other. Leytan, seeking Enlightenment then, showed promise as bright young man with a drive. Occasionally Leytan could be seen with Alaric, as the Halfling smuggler pointed out the constellations of his people, or demonstrated various nautical knots. In return the young monk taught Alaric a right proper hand chop that Alaric, due to his diminutive stature, had an advantage delivering to the average human man for crippling effects. After Melazus, Leytan had become something else, and he disappeared entirely. After ten years he’d shown back up, and while Alaric somewhat resented him for leaving like that, it seemed that they bore a similar interest in the unknowable.

Landar: Alaric had found Landar charming at first, a real swashbuckler and rather charismatic. It occurred to him much later, once Alaric had lost his naivety, that Landar was only charismatic so long as he had uses for you. Still, at the time Alaric had liked Landar, but not enough to put up with his violent nature after everything that had happened. Words were said, bridges were burned, and Alaric and Landar hadn’t spoken since. It was with great trepadation that Alaric would face Landar again, this time as Guardians.

Ehodr: TBD
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Hank Dionysian Mystery

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Character Sheet
Name: Ephraim ju-Karnur, the Pale Avenger.
Age: 44.
Gender: Male.
Race: Elf.
Physical Description:
Hailing from a secluded tribe of elves from the far north, Ephraim sticks out like a sore thumb in the city of Dara; an outlander among outlanders. His hair and skin are stark white, bright as fresh-fallen snow, and even the irises of his eyes are a milky white that makes his gaze seem unflinchingly sharp. Like a wildling, his shoulder-length hair is unkempt; Ephraim makes no effort to tame his mane. Traditional tattoos of black ink, the meaning of which have been lost with time, line his cheeks, mark his lips and emblazon his forehead. His arms and legs are also lined with thin, gently curving lines that follow the general flow of his vital arteries.

Like all elves, he is tall and thin, towering over men (and especially dwarves) but not matching humans for girth or stature. At their respective physical peaks, Ephraim would never match a human for strength, but his lithe limbs and porous bones mean he is faster than they could ever be. Aside from his appearance, there is no significant difference between the physiology of Ephraim's tribe and the more southerly elves.

Reference image.

Skillset:
Before Ephraim traveled south to seek fame and fortune, he was educated in the flashy and deceptively nimble style of swordplay his tribe has practiced for centuries. They wage no war and suffer little infighting, so the style is practiced mostly ceremonially; despite this, however, it is decidedly deadly. It requires two swords, both light and with curved blades, called rhyming swords. The weight and handling of the two swords is identical, which means neither has a specific purpose: both swords can be used for all possible moves and techniques, creating a very fluid fighting style. The elven swordsmen are taught not to have a dominant hand and train excessively to become equally proficient with their right and their left hands. It is not unfair to say that Ephraim is a master.

In the cold, harsh lands where he is from, agriculture is all but impossible; hunting and gathering is the only way of life. Out of necessity, Ephraim is proficient with the bow and arrow and is an expert at tracking prey through snowy lands. This skill is mostly applicable to the sandy lands near Dara as well, but considering Ephraim's current position in Dara, he has not practiced it for many years.

Ephraim's greatest talent is his ability to instill fear with a few whispered words, and his presence demands authority wherever he goes. He acknowledges this skill and uses it often, and to great effect.

Far Ancestry:
Ephraim's tribe, which no longer has a name, used to be very widespread in the snowy lands of the Far North. They never formed a centralized empire, which was eventually their undoing, but for thousands of years they defended their lands through insurrectionist and terrorist tactics whenever an invading force showed up at their doorstep. In ages past, all pale elves could call upon the snow to serve them; invaders could not trust their eyes, as the elves could wade through the snow without leaving a trace, and turn it into a whirling, blinding storm that only their gazes could pierce. It wasn't until an unknown enemy -- vaguely described as bringing fire and shadow with them -- almost wiped them out that the pale elves lost their hold over the Far North. Without a standing army or a single, strong leader, they were unable to repel the enemy force. Now, the survivors, Ephraim's single tribe, ekes out a living, numbering merely a few hundred.

Character History:
As previously mentioned, Ephraim is a pale elf from the Far North. As a young adult, he became fed up with the tough life his tribe led, and when his parents were killed by a fierce blizzard on a hunting trip, Ephraim realized there was absolutely nothing keeping him there. He gathered his possessions, including his prized rhyming swords, said his tribe farewell and set out for the sunny south. He did not stop until he reached sand.

He quickly discovered that his (what he had previously assumed to only be) 'ceremonial' fighting style was actually very effective against more the more conventional human style of combat. He was too fast for the knights wearing plate and wielding greatswords, and his curved blades reached behind shields and other defenses. Pleased, he took up the mantle as a soldier-of-fortune, mercenary and assassin. The tough life of the Far North hadn't exactly instilled a great sense of appreciation for life in Ephraim, so he had no qualms with killing strangers for gold.

It wasn't until King Pykas threatened to take the whole region by force that Ephraim used his abilities for good. The pale elf fell in with a band of adventurers who teamed up to eliminate the King and his accursed advisor, Cyrabassis. Ephraim reasoned that war was bad for his particular kind of business; it relied on a stable region with various factions vying for dominance, not an out-and-out war where all the city states were fighting for their independence.

In the catacombs of Melazus, Ephraim was confronted with the horrors of real magic. He had been raised with stories of the things the pale elves were supposedly capable of in ages past, the snow magic, but this was different. Terribly, terribly different. Where some faltered, other steeled themselves, and Ephraim was amongst them. He personally slew several of Cyrabassis's conjurations and almost executed Cyrabassis on the spot, were it not for the other adventurers, who were forced to restrain Ephraim until he agreed not to slay the defeated sorcerer.

That event instilled him with a single, unshakeable idea: magic was an abomination. He had always been a hard sort of fellow, but after the catacombs he was entirely made of sharp edges. Using his talent for intimidation, he installed himself as Dara's resident witch-hunter, and has been hunting down occultists ever since, backed by a few city magistrates who share his ideals. The fact that so many of his former adventuring colleagues have turned to gathering occult resources and learning about it has been a major thorn in his eye for years, but he can't bring himself to persecute them. The common folk of Dara have (predictably without little imagination) dubbed him the Pale Avenger for his efforts.

Now that Dara's Guardians have been slain, Ephraim is planning to immediately seize the opportunity to become a Guardian himself. Perhaps he can use the greater authority of that station to finally justify bringing his former friends and colleagues to justice.

Psychological Profile:
Ephraim is a difficult, dangerous individual. Ever since the incident in the catacombs he has been filled with cold fury and an almost zealous hatred of magic and those who think it's anywhere remotely near an acceptable idea to dabble in it. This has caused a huge rift between himself and his former adventuring colleagues, none of whom have taken such a strong stance against magic as Ephraim. Because many of them, like (especially) Leytan, have learned as much about it as they can, Ephraim is constantly unsettled and torn, feeling simultaneously unable to persecute his former friends, but also guilty over letting them get away with what they do.

This colours all of his interactions with other people; he is terse, direct and often rude, incapable of forming friendships with anyone. Even those who work with him and back his witch-hunting efforts don't personally like Ephraim much, but he is damn good at what he does and commands enough respect and fear that nobody turns against him. His cultural upbringing is also radically different from anyone else in Dara, which further alienates him.

Equipment:
- A matching pair of rhyming swords; thin, curved blades crafted in the rimefire forges of the Far North. The handle is also curved to fit snugly into the palm. Neither sword has a crossguard; Ephraim uses the flat of the blade to parry and deflect. They are light in weight but deceptively strong and require little maintenance to retain their edge.
- Ephraim wears no armor, instead dressing in loose-fitting robes of various colours (mostly red) that allow him total freedom of movement. Soft leather boots protect his feet.
- He owns a bow, but keeps it in his home as he has no real purpose for it in Dara.
- Various knives and daggers strapped to his chest and legs beneath his robes for emergency work.

Titles/Holdings/Power Base:
He is the Pale Avenger, Dara's resident witch-hunter extraordinaire. Ephraim works together with a small group of informants and mercenaries throughout the city; there is much overlap between his network and the Undertaker's, and the two often end up working on the same case. The biggest difference is the fact that Ephraim is backed and funded by a few of Dara's magistrates, who use Ephraim to solidify their own political influence (being "tough on magic" is popular with the common folk). Ephraim also persecutes and executes people who have technically not committed any crimes (there is no law against owning occult materials), which means he relies on the magistrates to keep the City Guard off his back.

The only property Ephraim owns is his home, a dark and gloomy house hidden away in an alley in the poor part of Dara. He keeps records of all persecuted would-be witches and wizards there, and a large, cast-iron furnace where he burns occult materials.

Relationships
- Kanros: Ephraim and Kanros remain on good footing, as Kanros hasn't turned to the occult at all. In fact, his fear of it nurtures Ephraim's fondness for the man. Ephraim occasionally calls upon Kanros for favours in his position as Dara's most influential mercenary.

- Nasharia: Her nosedive into Daran politics means she and Ephraim have drifted apart completely, as they move in radically different circles. Ephraim considered asking Nasharia to become one of the magistrates to back his witch-hunting efforts, but he hasn't yet. She seemed to have her hands full anyway.

- Erwun: The Pale Avenger and the Undertaker run into each other frequently and maintain a professional working relationship. Ephraim respects Erwun for his crime-fighting exploits, but they were never friends and still aren't.

- Landar: The Blood Rider is a useful source of information, but Ephraim has no respect for the man's bloodthirsty exploits abroad -- why had Landar not turned his rage on those actually deserving of it, like those who dabble in the occult?

- Haljon: Ephraim plays a dangerous dance around the commander of the Khavi, as the Pale Avenger could easily be labelled a criminal and hunted down himself. So far, however, this has not yet occurred (to Ephraim's knowledge). Haljon and Ephraim have not spoken in years.

- Leytan: Of all his previous colleagues, Leytan is one of Ephraim's greatest enemies. Ephraim vehemently disagrees with Leytan's habit of collecting occult knowledge, and his position as an authority on the matter pains Ephraim greatly. So far, Ephraim has not persecuted Leytan yet, but this may change soon.

- Alaric: Much like Leytan, Ephraim despises Alaric's collection of grimoires, tomes and artifacts. However, also much like Leytan, Ephraim has not been able to bring himself to turn on his former colleague. Recently, however, since the death of the Guardians, Ephraim has noticed Alaric's activities and silently approves. If the man can make up for his moment of weakness in the catacombs by turning all his occult knowledge to bear against this new enemy, it would be a good first step towards redemption.

Edohr: That CS is still WIP.

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