[hider=Ian Blackwood]Full Name: Ian Blackwood
Nicknames/Titles: The False Youth, The Greatest Bard in all of the lands(Self-given), 
Occupation: Bard, Jack of all trades, Purveyor of beautiful women
Birthday: September 15th
Height: 5'11
Weight: 162lbs
Race: Divineborn Human
Sex/Gender: Male
Age: He looks like he's around 21 years of old, but he's easily 5 times that, having happened upon a cursed artifact in his youth that have frozen him in his years, along with another unfortunate side effect
Sexuality: Straight, though he may act other ways to get out of an unfortunate situation
Place of Birth: Jasi
Biography: Born to a poor man living in the slums of the great cities of Jasi, a technological and arcane wonder even a century in the past, Ian wanted for very little in life, despite his upbringing. A free spirit with a charming nature about him, he had always had an interest in the fairer sex, ever the gentlemen when faced with women of all sorts, and in the times of his adolescents, he was quick to work  his ways ointo the bedchambers of many a lovesick girl, and chased by many an angry father. However, he never simply left them after he had got what he wanted, stopping by from time to time to talk, to have more fun, and even give gifts when he had the money to, even at the cost of his own comfort at times. This earned him the nick name of "The Heart-breaker with a Heart of Gold" amongst the poor, and before long, news of his skills of seduction reached the ears of a certain noblewoman. Seeing an opportunity, she had the boy brought to her and offered him a job: Charm his way into the home of a local mage, gain her trust, then steal a certain artifact and return it to her. Ian was hesitant at first, explaining to the woman that he didn't wish to court a woman he didn't love, for in his own way, he did love everyone of his partners. The noblewoman insisted rather forcefully, hinting to what would happen to his lovers if he didn't do as she asked. With know choice in the matter, he agreed, suited up to look more like a nobleman than a street urchin, then sent to the home of the woman he was to trick.

Her name was Alexia, and to say that she was a shut-in recluse was an understatment, as she looked as if she hadn't left her laboratory in years, and seemed rather unhappy at the thought of recieving an apprentice(as was the the cover given to him) but it was something she had been ordered to do by the university, lest she lose her funding, so it was to be done. She was of a mature age, a solid 28 to Ian's own 17, so it was obvious that the seduction was off to a rough start. He was a child to her, a fact she often brought up as she set to teaching him the tricks of her trade, and at first, ti seemed like it would be this way forever. However, one day, Ian managed to happen upon his target in a tender moment of vulnerability. She had just lost one of her few close friends, and was drowning her sorrows in alcohol, contemplating her own mortality with a depressive state of mind. In this instant, Ian comforted her, not out of an attempt to charm her, but because his nature couldn't allow him to leave a person,. let alone a woman, in such a state of depression. he held her close, whispered consoling words, and when she finally accepted his calming presence, the two fell asleep in each others arms that night. The next morning was the beginning of their budgeoning relationship, as the woman began to open up more and more to him, and Ian himself began to see something deeper in her. He felt a connection with Alexia deeper than he had with any other girl he had met, something that made him feel an intense desire to keep her, protect her from all that would hurt her, no matter the cost. This passion burned through him, urging him to take his studies seriously, learning the basics of many forms of magic under her astute teachings, as well as beginning his musical career as well once it was discovered that he had quite the talent for melodies one day. And so it continued for four years, the two drawing closer and closer, coming to know and accept everything about the other, and coming to truly care for each other. In fact, it was after their first intimate night that Ian broke his silence, unable to lie to Alexia any more, only to find himself embraced against her, forgiven before he had even had the chance to confess. It was the happiest day of his life, to have this burden lifted, but sadly, the following day would be filled with nothing but despair.

The noblewoman, having grown tired of waiting, had arrived the day after with a contingent of her own personal guard, holding four of Ian's other paramours in tow, the threat unspoken yet clear. Without a word of resistance, the two let the group in, and within moments, were subdued as the noblewoman had her court mage draw a magic circle upon the floor of the lab, with off-shooting circles connected to it to hold all of the captured women, including Alexia. Then, the noblewoman had her guards search the lab for the amulet, which was soon found after breaking down a few doors and having Alexia unlock some magical seals. The amulet was a beautiful piece of craftsmanship, the golden tint of the metal offset by the delicately dyed feathers the surrounded it like some form of jeweled flower, but upon it was a feeling of dread the permeated everyone who viewed it. As he watched helplessly from the side, he saw as one by one, the throats of all of his lovers was slit, their blood splattering on the ground, excepted instead of spreading out in a widening pool, it instead flowed into the runes on the floor, casting a crimson glow about the room. WIth each one, he felt something deep and ark form in the pit of his stomach, his body seeming to be lit a fire as he it soon came down to Alexia. Before the noblewoman could even get into position, however, a shout came from across the room, ringing with power. One moment in the arms of a guard, the next he was right next to the woman, snatching the blade from her hand and having it bite deep into her chest, her choked gasp, followed by a frenzied shriek as the red ichor the flowed with her came out in a mighty stream, flowing around Ian in a tornado of red. Suddenly, the amulet was around hi sneck, and from the lines of the magic circle came rivulets of blood, climbing it's way over his new glowing shoes and into his very flesh and soul. Dark magic coursed it's way through him, causing him to scream out in pain and terror. His world suddenly went red, his throat suddenly becoming parched  and his mind filled with nothing but a despaeate hunger for life. 

When he came to his senses, he found himself standing over the savaged bodies of the guards, all of them looking as if they'd been drained and mummified, nothing left int heir bodies but died flesh and bone. Before him, looking up in warm acceptance, lay Alexia, his hand plunged deep into her chest.

"It's okay . . . Ian. . . just . . Live on."

Those were her last words before she past, and Ian couldn't help but feel a pain greater and deeper than anything he had felt before rip it's way through him in the form of a monstrous howl. And so it was that Ian began his new life as a vampire, reborn through blood magic to walk the world, needing only the blood and life force of other living beings to sustain him. for the first years, he hated himself, and wished to end his life, stopping just short out of cowardice and fear of the unknown. However, as years went by, he rembered Alexia's world and decided that he would do that, having had enough brooding on what had happened. He would only sully her memory that way. And so,he sought to learn more about what he was, finding out that he could subsist as a normal human just by living off the blood of animals, losing most of the supernatural powers of his kind by simply forgoing the consumption of human blood. And so, with nothing else to do, he left his homeland to travel the world, honing all of his skills and learning more and more about who he is, focusing on the present instead of the future, for it was unknown, or the past, which was full of only pain. And so he comes to the group as he is, shaped by numerous instances and shaped into th eman you see before you, one who lives to charm and womanizer, but has long since given up on love, so badly has the experience of it hurt him.
Personality:Ian is a thrill-seeking, happy go lucky kind of guy, never stopping to think about what he does as long as he has fun doing it. He may also have a bit of a perverted side to him, and definitely is one to chase after girls, whether he believe he has a chance or not. He's a friendly guy, but has a mischievous streak a mile wide, always on the look out to pull one. Adrenaline junky, skirt-chaser, prankster, these facets of his personality tend to make it hard for him to make friends, and while that does depress him, he never lets it get to him too much. If something bothers or hurts him, he leaves it behind and never looks back.

He also has this interestingly frustration view on life, in which the only way for one to be truly miserable is to take it seriously, thus, he chooses to take nothing seriously, not even a little. He either laughs it off, or failing that, simply ignore it and brush the memory off into his subconscious mind. Despite this, there is one thing that will always wipe the smile of his face, and that will be drawing any kind of attention towards the strange medallion he wears around his neck, but it's very rare that he tells someone the story behind it, though it's obvious it's a subject of great pain and regret.
Likes:Chocolate, Making friends, playing pranks, Beautiful women, Sex, Pissing certain kinds of people off, having a good time, Music, entertaining a crowd
Dislikes: People who can't have fun, Violence, muscleheads, Cruelty, Spiders, Being held against his will for any reason, and forks
Skills/Strengths: He is rather flexible and dexterous, a skilled practioner of sleight of hand tricks and a bit of a pick-pocket if the situation calls for it. Also has some skill in various schools of magic, from Aeromancy to necromancy, he's learned a bit of everything in his long years roaming the lands, but only the basics really for most of it, and barely touching on intermediate in matters of illusion and healing, which are the closest things he has in regards to arcane specialties. He also knows his way around many forms of weaponry, but one would not say he's particularly skilled. In fact, most would say he's barely competent with any of the usual martial weapons, such as a sword, a bow, even the humble mace, which is little more than a glorified club.

Where Ian truly shines, however, is in his charisma, the sheer force of will he exudes tending to be a bit to much for most people, as he simply never gets phase by anything, not visibly at least. His poker face is one of the best out there, as one would expect from a man who is said to have once stared down a bear with naught but a smile on his face. The stories leave out that he ran like a little bitch as soon as the bear was even the tiniest bit distracted, but hey, he's not in a rush to amend that part of the story. Ian's true talent is not with instruments of war, but those of love, passion, and creativity. From the lute to the harp to the drums, he has a near godly skill with music, so much so that he seems to strike a chord in those who hear his music, causing strange things to occur within their soul. It's said his music can heal the sick, give sight to the blind, and give a man the strength of ten in battle and the vigor of twenty in the brothel house. If asked, Ian would say they're all exaggerated accounts, but not without some hints of truth to them. 

In truth, his musical talents are part of his heritage as the child of Yumio, Divine of Freedom. His energy is that of radiance, and he channels this through his song and instruments in order to enact certain characteristics in people, to make them better than they were before, if only by a modest amount. It took him quite a while to master his skills to this degree, and he certain he's only scratched the surface of it. 

Another ability he possess is his familiar, a Spirit that feeds on fear and despair that takes the shape of a dragon when summoned into our world through the tattoos that cover Ian right side, spreading out ward from his chest and over his arm, the thick, flowing black lines stopping just before reaching his wrist. This spirit is not evil of malicious in nature, and doesn't strive to cause fear or despair, but is drawn to people that are plagued by it and seeks to both sustain it's being and ease the worries of others, binding itself to Ian because he seems to have a knack for finding such individuals. It can's speak, and it's presence on a battlefield is limited towards pushing over opponents and looking frightening, he's unable to truly interact with physical objects besides knocking them over, but he looks terrifying, and Ian tends to play that up to end most confrontations in his favor.
Flaws/Weaknesses: Simply put, he's not a fighter, is never going to be a fighter, and is likely to run to the edge of any battlefield in an attempt to avoid the fighting while not appearing as craven as he truly is. He also tends to get easily fooled by members of the opposite sex, easily falling into the most obvious of ploys when a beautiful woman is placed in front of him and giving him the proper attention. Is also rather lazy at times, nearly recoiling at the idea of doing any kind of physical labor as if he was deathly allergic to the very notion of it.
Weapons/Equipment: He travels with a weeks rations at all times, he small dagger placed near the small of his back, as well as a pistol he purchased from a Jasian for intimidation purposes mostly, as he has no munitions for it. He carries a lute at his side, always, along with his travel pack that hangs somewhat loosely from his shoulders most of the time. Upon his feet, however, are the strangest looking shoes one has ever witnessed, seeming to be made of light turned into thread, as the fabric is luminous as if it were the low flames of a small fire, and feel as smooth and soft of a cool summer's breeze upon feeling them. This is his Creation, a versatile artifact that allows him to do several things. First, and most importantly, is that they give him a sort of 'spontaneous movement', enabling him to near-instantly move from one spot to another, anywhere within a radius of about 10 meters at most, though this often is followed by a small bit of fatigue and an inability to use the ability again for 5 seconds before he can do it again. aside from that, he canuse it as much as he wants with no other consequences. The second ability is that it allows him to walk on air simply by thinking about it. However, the moment he stops thinking about it, he'll fall out of the sky, and they also come with a delay between uses, this time being 15 seconds. The final ability they grant is that his paces eat up more ground than normal, making it seem as if he's faster than most people, when in actuality, he's semi-teleporting ahead of them as the space between him and his destination is shortened. He can increase the effect, making it drastically stronger for about a minute, but after that, he'll be struck by intense fatigue and hunger as his body struggles to deal with the sudden loss of energy, and he'll likely faint after a minute of two.
Appearance:[img]http://i.imgur.com/9xsxo.jpg[/img]
Ian is usually dressed in the patched garb of a motley man, a colorfully garish assortment of different fabrics that assault the eyes with their varied hues and patterns. His hair is long, reaching down to the small of his back even when tied into a ponytail, as he usual does. His one good eye is a rather bright shade of sky blue, full of the promise of freedom and excitement, matching well with the golden sheen of his hair, died near the ends with bits of orange hue, as well as few greens, blues, and reds in order to give it more color and variety. He wishes to get some purple dye one day, but he's yet to be able to afford such an expensive color, a fact that annoys him greatly. His other eye, or rather the socket that used to contain his other eye, is thankfully covered by a suprising plain black eyep[atch. The story behind the loss of the ocular organ is something he has never told anyone, but some believe it has something to do with his almost comically powerful fear of forks, since the mere sight of the cursed utensils cause him to absent-mindedly cover his eye and twinge in phantom pain.
Theme Songs: A fun little extra I always like to include.
Other: For all intents and purposes, as long as he doesn't consume human blood, he is not a vampire by any means besides his eternal youth and inability to get sick, and is similarly unaffected by the normal weaknesses of this race of undead. However, of he is ever driven to a situation where he must drink blood, either by hunger or need for it's power, then he'll gain a variety of abilities and weakness to match, which will
Inspirations:Ian's been a character I've had for a while, and I figured now was a good time to repraise him. He won't be as perverted in this incarnation as others, but expect him to hit on every female in the group. And yes, that includes Vesta and should be massively entertaining to right when it happens.
Username:Raijinslayer[/hider]

[hider=Drosil/Shadar Maeneld]
Full Name:
Drosil/Shadar Maeneld
Nicknames/Titles:
Dros for Drosil and Shade for Shadar
Occupation:
Drosil is a Freelance Researcher of the Arcane 
Birthday:
October 31st
Height:
Drosil is around 5'11, Shadar is 7'2
Weight:
Drosil is about 158 lbs, Shadar is closer to 250 lbs
Race:
Human
Sex/Gender:
Male
Age:
25
Sexuality:
Drosil is Heterosexual and Shadar is uncertain
Place of Birth: 
Jasi
Biography:
Drosil and Shadar have no clue who their mortal parent is, as they were raised in an orphanage run by two kind and caring couple, both of them being followers of The Masked Divine. When Shadar first took over, with only the memories of Drosil to go off on and nothing else, they were the ones to calmly help him assimilate and work out what was going on. They were as clueless and unaware about Shadar's existence as he was, but that was the only thing they seemed clueless of.

As followers of the Masked Divine, they were very good at discovering and keeping secrets, as well as keeping balance among the orphanage, including helping their charges grow into fine adults by I stilling in them virtues and harsh life lessons for as long as they had them. Drosil and Shadar never let themselves be adopted, seeing the couple as their parents, Shadar especially. It couldn't last forever, as Drosil began to show talent in magic, enough so that he was taken to a prestigious university in the capital of their homeland of Jasi, at the age of 15. For the next decade, Drosil buried himself in his studies while also working with Shadar to secretly keep the city a bit safer from crime, teaching his brother spells so that he can better hide his appearance, or amplify it so that he could avoid battles before they have a chance to erupt. 

In this time, he became known as a prodigy for his skill in deciphering and using ancient magics, spells that had been incomprehensible for centuries revealing themselves to him within minutes. His findings were alwats spectacular, so much so that he was given the rate occupation of a Freelance researcher, a Mage whose given access to all ruins and digs no matter what company or organization is working on it so that he may work his magic. It was this position that have set him and his brother on to the beginning of their adventure.
[hr]
The start of their current and most challenging adventure would be in the plains of the Barcean Wilds, where they met the Prince and princess of the land as they patrol with a retinue of soldiers under the kings command. While the initial meeting was a bit unorthodox, what with Drosil being attacked by robotic land-sharks at the time, he found himself tied up in their Royal affairs, tagging along for reasons of curiosity at first, but as time went on, it became more of a draw to the events that seemed to center on the young prince.

Outwardly, he thought of it as him having some bigger role to play in the universe, but in his subconcious mind, it was more related to the draw of power. His hidden ambitions, grand as they were, seemed like nothing but pipe dreams for so long, but as he saw amazing and experienced great horror and wonder with the group, in the back of his mind, he felt that maybe just maybe, his dreams would come true after all.

As it was, the road traveled by the prince was not an easy one. Several times the young summoner courted the void, barely surviving thanks to the magic he surrounded himself in, and in some cases, the friendships he forged along the way. He's been possessed, stabbed, dissected, and even burned into a pile of ashes on this journey, going through ungodly amounts of pain in service to the prince, but he has refused to let it stop him. He has refused to let anything get in the way of his ambitions.

However, the last battle against the Advisor, which saw him take to his highest and darkest level of magical mastery yet, and it proved all for naught against this woman. Not only that, but after the battle's end, the cost of the grand magic he used began to show. The demonic features that he had worn in battle faded away to show ravaged and disfigured flesh where the shadows had lain upon him, as well as several terrible, self-inflicted wounds spread out across his body along with the ones given to him by the Advisor. The magic infused into his soul helped keep him alive, but he lost his arm and one of his eyes as a result, not to mention that his own magical powers seemed to wane more and more as days pass. He had delved into deep and terrible forces in his preparation to take the witch's head, but it had all been for naught, leaving him to pay for the consequences for his actions.

While he tries to play of his situation, his brother Shadar knows exactly how his brother is feeling, and worries where it might drive him. Having suffered greivous injury himself during the battle, Shadar is no-longer as much the power-house that he used to be. His armored exoskeleton is cracked and weak, and despite the best efforts of healers, several shards of his armor still remained lodged beneath his skin, causing him great pain at a constant rate. The main probem with healing shadar is that his body heals at an incredibly slow rate compared to humans, and it's short of a miracle he's in any kind of fighting shape at all. Unlike his brother, who is bitter and spiteful about the events of the battle, Shadar is just glad to be alive, though certainly humbled by the experience. Due to Drosil's foul mood and Shadar;s need for constant treatment of some kind to help facilitate the healing process, Shadar now spends a majority of his time in the real world, a prospect he's still getting the hang of. 

However, even injuries like what he suffered that day didn't stop Shadar from pursuing his passion, and he put it to good use. All around his room are pieces in various states of completion showcasing various scenes of the battle, drawn either from memory or first-hand accounts of those who experienced or beheld the most spectacular moments of the battle. From common soldiers dealing battle against undead hordes to the Grand battle between Cyril and Gartian, no tale of heroism proved too seemingly insignificant to keep Shadar from depicting it in as stunning detail as he could manage.

Personality:
Drosil is a bit of an idealist, always wanting to do the right thing, sometimes even when it's the stupid thing. He knows that sometimes it's not the best thing to be the righteous one, but he'll be dammed if he lets that stop him. he wants to use magic to awaken the world to glorious new possibilities, to raise the people up into a glorious age of magic and technology.
[hr]
After the events of the first Arc, Drosil has lost a good deal of his idealism. The death of Kori, who was by far the most pure and good ruler he'd ever had the pleasure of meeting, symbolically symbolized the death of his ideals. In her death at the hands of gartian, he sees that the only way to get things done in this world is to get your hands dirty in the filth and mud, to do things that others would never dream off in order to get results. 

Because of this shift in mindset, he's become a bit more closed off then before, though stil rather talkative. His sense of justice remains as strong as before, but at times it may be overshadowed by his hatred for evil and corruption.

Shadar is the more grounded of the two, always telling Drosil that he needs to keep his head down to earth and deal with the here and now, rather then the future, or he might not live to see it become a reality. He's also rather cold to most people, not because he dislikes them, but because he's actually very shy. He's never really done much in the ways of talking, even to his own brother, as their only source of communication to each other is through notes. He also feels jealous of Drosil, as he gets to be out most of the time, leaving Shadar alone with his thoughts in the empty void he goes to when he's not in control. He feels that the gods are cruel and laugh at him, for that's the only reason he can find in his freakish, almost hellish appearance.
[hr]
After the events of the first arc, Shadar was faced with a small crisis of his own. For the first time in his life, the natural strength and resilience had failed him. He'd been beatened down so thoroughly that he'd called out to the gods for assistance. Instead of taking this defeat to heart, however, Shadar has taken the pain and despair of the experience to remind him that despite his monstrous abilities, he is still mortal and far from strong enough to just rest on his laurels. While nothing has changed as far as his outward behavior, he's started to train more, as much as his body allows him to at the moment anyway.

Likes:
Drosil is fond of learning all kinds of new things, and is an avid reader and writer, his pencil never far from his hand

Shadar is much more artistic, generally finding peace in sculpting, painting, or drawing. He usually does landscapes, as he often doesn't get the chance to talk to and ask people for their portraits. Though he can take form his brother's memories to inspire him if there is ever the chance.

Dislikes:
Drosill has a thing for messes, hating to see things be disorganized or excessively dirty. He also despises standing still and doing nothing, as he always has to keep himself preoccupied with some sort of activity. 

Shadar dislikes loud noises and loud people, prefering peace and quiet that allows him to focus more on his art. He also shares a great dislike for religious people, if only because of his own problems with the gods. 

Skills/Strengths: 
Drosil is a mage of great power, being able to learn all kinds of Arcane mysteries thanks to the gift of his father(?) that gave him the abilities to uncover any and all mysteries of the Arcane, all magical knowledge he rest his eyes upon become revealed to him in their infinite complexities. Of the magics he knows, he specializes in summoning creatures to his aid, be they of natural or mystical origin. He also has some offensive and defensive elemental spells.

Shadar is a very strong warrior, his scales being just as good, if not somewhat better, than steel armor, and lacking the hinderance in movement. His strength is greater than that of any mortal man, enabling him to lift men with ease, and move giant boulders if he really puts the effort in. He's also a good fighter, able to do combat with the best of them due to his brother shouldering the burden of training himself in martial skills. This was done during the last five yeas of their life, as Drosil realized that his brother was lacking proper instruction, even though he wanted it dearly. So not only does he have a good deal of Arcane knowledge, but he's a good fighter in the physical sense as well, though this is more in the technical and skill sense rather than physical power. Shadar has taken knowledge his brother has learned and trained himself with it to better his own natural physical abilities.

Along with his physical abilities,  Shadar has some more s supernatural ones as well. First, he knows magic as well, though it focuses on casting illusions on himself to alter how people perceive him, mostly to make him seem more menacing or less noticeable. Lastly, he has a form of empathy that let's him tell if people are feeling prone to violence or are becoming unhinged or unbalanced. It makes for a great early warning for when dealing with someone whose about to launch an attack out of nowhere

As Divineborn, both Shadar and Drosil possess the power of creation, though they differ in how they use it. Shadar is able to more easily form weapons, while Drosil's ability focuses more on Magical Items such as staves, wands, and rune stones that can be used to help cast and strengthen spells cast with them. 

Flaws/Weaknesses:
Drosil, while a skilled mage and capable fighter when the time arrives, is often to brash or bold and is likely to get in the way with his antics if he gets caught in the middle of a battle. Also, he's a bit clumsy, tripping over his own two feet at times and has nearly lost his head due too such ineptitude. 

Shadar, while able to move better than most heavily armored combatants, is still not that agile, and has a few weak points in his scale armor, like the joints in his armpits and one in the back of his knee. While small, these can lad to him getting seriously injured is he's hit there, which is why e tends to be cautious fighter, sometimes overly so, not always willing to take the necessary risks in combat.

Weapons/Equipment:
Drosil carries several blank books, notepads, food rations, a canteen, a tent and sleeping bag, a magic pistol that furred a single shot and takes some time to reload, a set of traveling clothes inscribed with protection runes that make it as tough as the best of leather armor with no sacrifice to mobility, and a staff he made that can absorb dmspell cast on it, then launch them at a target, only having been enhanced by the staff's properties.

Shadar has a belt to holster his two short swords, a backpack filled with art supplies, his own food rations, and his own set of notepads and writing utensils. He also bears a great sword that he made himself through his abilities that is strong enough to hold against even the mightiest of his blows, and yet never lose it's edge.

Appearance:
Drosil is a tallish man, skinny but reasonably fit. His skin is a light tannish color, though it's still a bit pale since he spends a lot of time inside. His strange black snd white hair(which is slightly luminescent) is almost always in a mess, his eyes a sparkling mixture of golden hazel and a brilliant emerald green. His features are good-looking for the most part, his face can be a bit angular at times. He's got a few scars on him, but not that many.

Shadar is a very tall humanoid figure that is covered in scales from head to toe that resemble a strange foley kind of armor. His eyes glow a menacing red from the depths of his sockets and his mouth is hidden begins two retractable face plates, looking human enough that it really clashes with the rest of him. His hands and feet both end in claws, though the ones on his hands can be retracted, which allows him to use a sword with ease. His scales are a deep black in coloration, with a purple tint coating his claws.

Theme Songs:
A fun little extra I always like to include.

Other:
For anything I may have forgot.

Main or Side: Main
Username:Raijinslayer[/hider]