Welp. I got bored, so I wrote out both of them to give you a better idea of what I had in mind.


[hider=Blaise Wenyld]
Name: Blaise Wenyld
Epiphet: Crown Bearer
Age: 21
Sex: Female
Height: 5'
Weight: 91 lbs.
Race: Human


[hider=Her eyes see you...]
[img]http://i.imgur.com/7GjsQfR.jpg[/img]
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Basic Description: Blaise may lack an imposing stature or a fearsome mien, but she still carries herself with a sense of importance on the streets of Nelhain. She veils her wiry frame under the thick layers of her black and burgundy robe. Her a pale skin, a common feature in these lands, contrasts sharply with her flowing dark hair. The most striking things about Blaise are her eyes. Black as coal, they stare at the world with an unnatural intensity.

Region of Origin: Nelhain. The Wenyld family traces its origins back to the Churning Swamps in the southeast. A near endless variety of monuments and ruins butt against each other as something in the murky water slowly sucks them down into the darkness. They return eventually, but always broken and torn.

Personality: The desperation of the condemned is what drives Blaise into the dark places of the world. She has seen the fate that awaits her at death, the fate shared by every member of her bloodline. One day her soul will be consumed by an immortal beast. It will leave her with just enough consciousness to scream in agony for all time. Blaise has chosen to defy this fate and will do whatever it takes in order to escape or beat the curse.

Background: In ages past, High Queen Wenyld sat at the forefront of a budding empire. Gifted with the Sight she averted disasters and culled rivals. Nothing could touch her or her people. Nothing except the Deep Ones. 

Wenyld saw their coming decades before their arrival, but saw no way to topple or repel these godlings. With desperation and age catching up, Wenyld decided that if she could not turn away these beasts, then she would become like them. A great multitude were slain in an effort to distill the exact essence of the Deep that she could then take into herself. The slurry of bodies tainted the land, spoiled it, and created the swamp as it is today.

Her obsession blinded her so that her son, Melmond, managed to build a plot against her. In her moment of triumph she was stuck down by Melmond and her other children. They could not kill her however. Her soul was already too infused with the seeping corruption of the Deep. She dragged them into the depths of the swamp water and cursed her living kin to one day join her in their damnation. The Curse of the Crown.

All this Blaise saw as she came of age. One day, upon her death, Wenyld would draw her spirit down to become another screaming ornament on her bloated soul. Against such a threat Blaise made the only choice. She would resist. Her first step was to join the Witch's Womb and learn their occult secrets. The next, and arguably harder one, is to find those others she has seen in her visions and challenge the creatures Wenyld so feared.

Powers: Blaise has a solid understanding of the magic used by the Witch's Womb, though her skill with such things could stand for some improvement. Her real skill actually lies in her arts as a seer. Her visions guide her path towards freedom and warn her of impending dangers. When the need arises she can also turn this power on her enemies, giving them a maddening, unfiltered, glimpse into what's to come.
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[hider=Hroun]
Name: Hroun
Epiphet: the Younger, No-Nose
Age: 43
Sex: Male
Height: 7' 5"
Weight: 350 lbs.
Race: Hulder (half)- Hulder are a race of spirit folk that haunt the shallow places between the Surface (the mortal world) and the Deep, passing from one world to another as they please. Hulder are mid-tier predators between humans an the things beyond. Hulder prey on and torture humans, but are just as easily preyed upon by the Deep Ones. In the Deep, hulder become abstract beings composed of the things that make up the substance of their souls. Fire, flesh, distended limbs, nails, almost anything really. As they approach the Surface they become more ensconced in reality, more human save for one or two grotesqueries that they retain no matter what. The only true way to know one faces a hulder is to strike them with iron; it poisons and burns them cause wounds that boil, fester, and pop.


[hider=A man with no nose]
[img]https://cdna.artstation.com/p/assets/images/images/000/520/004/large/jakub-rebelka-m.jpg?1443928069[/img]
[/hider]


Basic Description: Hroun's hulder name does suit him. There is no nose on his craggy gray face. It's almost enough to distract others from his massive size and the pupil-less whites of his eyes. He shaves his receding white hair, but it's hardly noticeable since he always has the cowl of his blue cloak pulled up. Beneath the cloak rests the chainmail of a warrior. The last thing to note about him is the iron-headed bardiche he carries, which seems small comparatively.

Region of Origin: Skejhal- Further north of Nelhain is a land of rolling pine forests and cold, dark days. No lords or empires rule here, just cloistered gatherings of men and women who seek solace in their isolation. They cut their homes and tools from wood and earth old enough to remember the last time the Deep Ones trod these lands.

Before long the humans think themselves safe and secure, but the hulder eventually find them. There are accidents, madness, and murder. Eventually the hulder swarm, smelling the blood in the air. The mortals flee and the forest reclaims the wood and stone. Evenetually the humans come back and the cycle repeats itself again.

Personality: Hroun is dour in the extreme. His face is so set in his grimace that most people mistake his craggy complexion for a mask. He rarely speaks, preferring his own council to that of others. Though it could seem like pride or stubbornness, Hroun simply trust himself more. Other people lie, cheat, and steal so often in this world that genuine empathy or interest seems like a bitter joke.

Background: Hulder have an old tradition called "bergtagning." They take a fancy to a mortal and steal them away to the shallows. Usually powerless against the hulder, these humans are forced to submit to the whims of their new masters. Hroun's father, Hroun the Elder, was one of these people. When the older Hroun returned home to the village of Heima her had lost a nose, but gained a child.

Hroun the Younger found no love or respite among his mortal kin. His father, traumatized from the abuses he'd suffered at the claws of Hroun's mother, took his frustrations out on his son. The village also found Hroun an easy target for their hatred of the hulder. Hroun, fortunately, grew fast and strong. It wasn't long before the people of Heima learned to hold their tongues in his presence.

At the age of eighteen Hroun left his kin and village behind. It was for the best. Heima soon fell to the predation of the cycle. Hroun worked his way into the pockets of the Bellfire Covenant as a mercenary. Though they certainly do not care for him or his life, at least they seem to respect his ability to carry out his contracts.

Powers: Hroun, thanks to his human side, can wield and wear iron without having to worry about scalding himself. His hulder half also makes it easier for him to pass from the Surface to the Deep through the shallows.
[/hider]