Name: Balan Windfall
Age: 43
Gender: Male
Personality: The Emperor, much to his queens horror for her poor heart, has never been one to sit on the sidelines. Not just because it was expected of him as a leader, but because he felt it was his duty. If he's asking someone else to do something that puts their life at risk, he best be willing to do it himself. He is still a noble though and some of those ingrain personality traits are still there- he does give a condescending look to peoples whose profession is less than.... honorable, but he will get it of it as quickly as he can and will say nothing about it. He is slow to trust, hence why he still has a high ranking knight with the party, but he will eventually warm up to someone when they've proven they're not out to assassinate him. In his relaxed company, he is a jovial man that appreciates a good joke and good company.
Role/Title: He is the Emperor of Caradia.
History: When Balan was a boy, he knew right away what was expected of him. He strove to meet those expectations and then go beyond them. He had dreams of being the best Emperor in Caradia's history, though he knew he couldn't match the legends of the man who made it an empire to begin with rather than a bunch of small broken countries. He studied and trained with all his might, though he never seemed to reach that level to impress his own father. He didn't let it slow him down- in fact, it made him work harder. He trained with the knights, insisted they work him just like anyone else in their ranks.
As he got older, stronger, and wiser, his father created the fixed marriage between him and Esmeralda- the daughter of a noble of a large city on the far eastern edge of their empire, trying to keep the peace between them. Her beauty was already rather well known, her likeness to Caradia's Goddesses legend. She was quite her own person, however. She was opinionated, stubborn, and perfectly aware of just how pretty she was. She was not about to just be that pretty face, though, to be stationed at his side. She wanted him to hear what she had to say and he quickly figured out his best bet was to hear her out. And it proved to be useful. She had tactical knowledge for both the battlefield and the throne room. This is what lead him to being absolutely smitten to his future bride.
There were more than enough skirmishes that lead him to the battlefield, putting all his expertise to use, and leaving her at home. Though she kept the courts in check, she was always the first person the knights would see upon returning as she would sneak out to meet them on their return. The two became insperable with time and she almost thought she was going to the battlefield with him once because he couldn't bear to leave her side- and she'd have been willing to go, though her own knowledge of the sword of the time was lacking- something Balan was sure to fix upon learning, in case anything should ever happen.
Finally, they had a decade of peace, no skirmishes, not accusations of one town trying to take over another, the crops were flourishing. Balan had just come in to the crown, his father having lived quite a long and prosperous life. He and Esmeralda had been wed for some time and had several wonderful children, his favorite being his youngest daughter, Adralyn, who seemed to have the maps of the land memorized faster than all her other siblings- eager for an adventure of her own.
When the news of the plague hit, it all but broke his heart. A plague was out of his hands, a curse from the Goddesses, but why? What had they done wrong? Had he not praised them enough for their peace? Then the monsters came and he had something to direct his anger towards, his disappointment. He has his main forces staying to take care of his people and spreading out to the villages most vulnerable to falling under the monsters attacks. He figured it started in a small village. He wouldn't need an army to handle that.
Anything extra: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=a9jcb2EnQxg



Name: Osanne Bladefury
Age: 25
Gender: Female
Personality: If the stick could be completely buried in the mud, then that would Osanne. She has zero since of humor. Her duty to the crown comes first and anything else doesn't matter, including her own safety and life. She isn't social and she trusts absolutely no one outside of the knights and her leaders. They haven't proven themselves worth that trust, so why should she trust them? She especially has a hard time getting to trust any unknown males, which lead most of her superiors to believe that something unsavory happened to her.
Role/Title: Knight Captain of the Imperial forces.
History: Osanne was found in the lower parts of the Imperial city when she was 7. She was dirty, hair matted, bruised, and clothes tattered. She would scream whenever a man got close to her and ran in to women's arms for safety. When she 10, she was passed in to an orphanage when a knight realized one of the villagers was harboring the girl that belonged to a murdered family. That same knight came to check on her every single day from that point forward, unless he was away in the field. She began to anticipate his return and some of the sentries outside the main gate began to tease her that she was the only one ever waiting for "that dumb bastard" to come back. And when he would come back, it was the only time she would smile, relieved to see him in one piece, even if that piece was in bad shape.
When she 15, he left to deal with some small time problem. At that time in her life, she was already working on getting herself in to the ranks, doing odd jobs for people to make herself seem useful. She would wait for him to come back and continued to wait until one day, one of the three knights that left returned and it wasn't her friend. They had been ambushed by bandits on the road back, bandits that were angry about the resolution of a problem they had started. All the knight had to give her from her friend was a ring he had purchased for her in the town, planning to give it to her for her birthday saying "All young ladies ought to have a least one piece of jewelry, right? Would hate for her to feel left out."
She put that ring on a chain and she still wears that necklace to this day. When she was training to become a knight, some of the guys tried to harass her about the ring, calling it the gift from her perverted lover, to which she would get in trouble for beating them bloody. Once given the title of knight she went about proving herself to be the most capable they'd had in some time. She forced herself to bury all emotions, not wanting them to get in the way of her progress. Being a knight gave her life some purpose, a reason. Plus it kept her close to the memory of the last person who cared two cents about her. She only very recently gained the title Knight Captain, having to prove herself able and willing to be in charge even if only on a small scale.
Anything extra: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ncd_cMZnC3I

“Why do people suffer? Why do we hide and let plague destroy them? That isn’t nobility. That can’t be nobility… can it?” Name: Pythia “The Yellow Rose” Heartspire Age: 15 Gender: Female Personality: Pythia is ultimately a child of kindness and earnest naivety, whilst her teachings have led her to understand the world isn’t entirely sunshine and rainbows she still maintains a sense of kind optimism despite understanding what horrors man is capable of—it isn’t “easy” for her, either, as she struggles with many moral and ethical dilemmas when faced with opposition. Her relationship with her adopted parents is on good terms, despite a few years of hoisting up their trueborn heir to their house over her, which is understandable by all means but it still hurts as she despite what the law says is still a very young child who even with her longtime mentor finds herself being pushed into action way too early in life. So you could say that Pythia is a ‘beta’ personality as she prefers to be led, though if she feels opposition to her beliefs she will confront said leader… probably… maybe over tea… in front of everyone… under a good omen. Role/Title: Cleric History: The story of Pythia is one that is vague to the adopted daughter of the noble house of Heartspire, as she has heard all of the tales of how she came to be—in the end, she had no concept of the truth of where she came from which maddened the girl from a young age to have her questions answered with more questions. A big question arose early regarding her obvious affinity with magic, something that didn’t necessarily outcast her from her friends and peers but did make her feel strangely out of place. It was by her parent’s coin that a noble scholar and magical tutor from Lumoise was afforded and it was with that person that she learned what type of magic she was attuned to. Her place at the table of magic was one of healing, warding, and protecting; something that would resonate with her personality as she would hear story after story of plague or famine or fatal injury that she felt were not necessary. As Pythia’s youth carried on her instructor became the only guiding light in a sea of what she felt was irrelevance, because why was she within these walls if people outside of them suffered? She pondered as she looked to the noble heroes of old and new for inspiration whilst she struggled with her beliefs. Such struggle was not made easy by the lessons given to her by her instructor who explained the varied opinions of magic of the world, historical consequences, ignorant fear-mongering, and brutal dangers of magic as pertinent teachings that she should be aware of and as she was quite young at the time she found herself terrified of them but never to the point she wanted to shy away from her magic. It was about this time that her parents conceived their first blood child, a male named Xanye. It was then that the divide between the “high society public” became apparent—it wasn’t that they were afraid of her but simply disregarded her as she was no heir of House Heartspire and they made that abundantly clear as they nicknamed her brother as “trueborn”. She was twelve years past her nameday. With her parents paying more mind to her brother, Pythia absorbed herself more into her studies of the arcane and divine. She looked to the gods for guidance in the spiritual nature whilst she looked to her instructor for even more guidance on not only magic but philosophy. Such dedication became her daily routine outside of court etiquette of the nobility. This would come to conflict when she turned fourteen when the conversation of courting came from her parents lips as if they interested in the concept before at all. “Your life is your path.” – apparently that was only true in the case of engagement. The fifteen year old looked to her instructor for guidance and she was told a truth she had not considered. Within a year she would be an adult by law and her choices would be many; amongst that realization her mentor also confessed that they had little more they could teach them from here and it would be best to apply to a foreign academy of magic or alternatively begin her own path by self-teaching—as a mage without experience was just a fancy scholar. The boys her parents began suggesting would turn into a game of sorts as Pythia took all of the collective knowledge before her; she would deny betrothal and instead enlist in some manner for the empire itself. It was no surprise that after being in a safe, walled city that she would want to find an avenue to explore and help people at large with her skills. In a matter of time she was a legal adult and had a decision to make. So it was in a rare enlistment that her story continues. Anything extra: Pythia’s skills as a cleric are that in wards, restoration, and to an extent alteration. You can basically view her as a quantifiable “white mage” who works within a holy dynamic but as a very young and inexperienced caster she doesn’t have proper battle focus nor does she have the years of dedication for really powerful spells so I’ll have to play that into her combat style. The idea is to have her as a young cleric to learn through experience and probability. Her mentor's name was Altaria Silverhawk.

"Foul magic tried to slay me. It only released me. Mages who serve no master beware. For I am Death. I am Vengeance." 6ft 3in. Name: Logen Age: 55 Gender: Male Personality: I am well aware that I sound like a hypocrite. Preaching the restraint of mages and the slaying of those who refuse to be restrained, while I myself use magic. But it is a different type of magic. Mage magic comes from the darkest places on the earth, given to them so they can disrupt the balance, and ruin the balance the Goddess has created. My magic was granted to me by the Goddess, the day she let me survive the destruction of Zalcan, and I use it to bring her will to bear. I am generous to my friends, merciless to my enemies. Kind to all but the unrestrained mage, I will not suffer anyone to do harm or wrong in my presence. They will learn to be just, or they will learn to fight well. Role/Title: I was a holy warrior of a Zalcan, an island nation far to the north. There, like these foolish southern nations, we let magic run uncontrolled. We let those who wielded it run free. My holy sect of the Goddess, called ungodly radicals by some, wished to control them. We pushed, constantly, for their powers to be leashed or their lives to be ended. No one listened. To prepare for the inevitable conflict between mages and non mages my sect had holy warriors, the closest equivalent being Paladins in the southern nations. My armor naturally resists magic, and my sword naturally slices through it. Such are my holy enchantments. I have been trained for all my life to be one thing: a mage hunter. Trained to be lethal in combat, fearless against mages and all their creations, and ruthless in the judgement of the Goddess upon those mages who refuse to serve. However, the mages have left their mark upon me as well. When they destroyed Zalcan, they failed to kill me. I am trapped in my armor. Aging has ceased, as have most bodily functions. I no longer need to eat or sleep. I am still quite mortal, and able to be wounded and killed. But when they trapped me in my armor, they also gave me some of their foul magic. I can now fight fire with fire, as much as it disgusts me to use it. The earth itself obeys my commands, in a 10 yard radius. Shields, swords, boulders, they are all mine to make and send at my enemies. History: My life has always been that of a mage hunter. I was given to their organization at birth, and I was raised for one purpose. When the time came, I would help control the mages, and hunt down those who do not wish to accept the Goddess's decree. The training was brutal, much like my life was after it would be over. The mages I would hunt down would show no mercy, thus my instructors could not. I watched over half of my peers die during the years my training took place. By the end of it, I was physically, emotionally, and mentally hardened for whatever the mages could throw at me I was given my armor and my sword, and I was formally inducted into the service of the Goddess as a Mage Hunter. That was..roughly thirty years ago. Over that time, I hunted mages all over Zalcan. I lead assaults on their strongholds, desperate defenses against their attacks, and fought in vicious duels against them. I fought them in ruins and tunnels, forests and mountains, deserts and cities. My life was a constant war, a constant vigilance, against them. None of it was public, you must understand. The majority of Zalcan's population and government were cowards, thinking that if you let mages run unchecked everything would be fine. My organization, the mage hunters, operated in secret. We were branded murderers and agents of evil by our country men. But we remained vigilant. It was for their own good, that they never know about the bulwark against the mages that was my sect. But my vigilance failed me when it most counted. My entire order's vigilance failed them. We failed to notice that there was a large gathering of mages in time. By the time we found out, it was too late. They were too many. As every Mage Hunter of my order that could be alerted in time assaulted their fortress they prepared their spell. Most of that time is a blur of combat and death for me, but one part sticks out. Two mages cast spells on me, one I'm sure trapped me in my armor, but I cannot be certain. Another sealed me in the earth. We were too late anyways. The mages released their spell, annihilating almost everything living in it's path. If any of the mages were still alive, they would claim they were trying to help Zalcan. Controllable weather, no more natural disasters. They would also claim my sealing spell and being trapped in the earth helped not only save my life, but gave me my unholy powers. They would be lying. They were trying to take over Zalcan, and the Goddess gave me my unholy powers to fight back against the mage scourge. Nothing more, nothing less. Zalcan was destroyed. It is nothing more than an ashen wasteland. An entire civilization, and all it's people, gone. I am the only survivor, by the grace of the Goddess. It is clear she has one mission for me. To spend my days hunting down rogue mages and ensuring that what happened to Zalcan never happens again. Ever since the destruction of Zalcan, I have been wandering the Southern nations, bringing the foul creations of mages and the mages themselves to justice. And what beyond magic could this epidemic of monsters be?

Name: Hector Ward Age: 15 Gender: Male Personality: Role/Title: Hopeful Cook History: Hector was born a bastard child to a broken noblewoman, and therefore inherited the surname Ward as a sign of his illegitimate birth. He never met his father, and his mother was murdered by an unknown assailant when he was only six. Hector would have probably ended up like any other kid in his position and be quietly brushed under the rug, but he was picked up by a 'nice man' named Gande, who put him up in a warehouse with numerous other children. As it turned out, the children were forced into terribly intense manual labor and paid a paltry sum that they knew no better than to accept. In addition, the costs of their living expenses were being tallied in the background and were subject to 'interest rates' as the children aged. It was a brilliant and terrifying scam that circumvented the need for actual slavery and masqueraded as charity. Even if he made it out of the 'orphanage' alive, Hector's body would be broken long before he would be able to pay off all of the debts. Even so, Hector accepted his position with a strange maturity. Maybe it was his inborn pride as a noble, though Hector himself was completely unaware of his heritage and he had no reason to think this way. He looked after the other children, taking the brunt of their work as his own burden. He even learned how to cook in order to feed himself and the others, though their meals amounted to little more than scraps. Despite his best efforts however, the other children were not as strong as Hector and one by one succumbed to exhaustion and illness until Hector was the only one left. He thought there would be others, but Gande expelled him from the house when he came of age at 14. For the past year he had been working as a cook in a tavern for food and board, though his freedom was still firmly locked behind an impossibly high wall called "debt." When Hector heard of the expedition from rumors in the tavern, he was skeptical at first. He wasn't sure it would be enough to escape Gande and his shady backers, but when he discovered it was to liberate a plagued village from monsters he signed on for the mission thinking that the debt collectors would avoid him at all costs. Despite his young age he was technically an adult, and his cooking and labor skills made him ideal as a worker and support for the voyage. His only goal is to prove his worth and make a name for himself, and hopefully receive a commission to become a knight in order to escape his life of endless poverty. Anything Extra: [Talent] Magic Potential - Unknown even to Hector himself, he has the makings of a fine magician given careful cultivation.

XD

Name: Thomas Milliner Age: 22 Gender: Male Personality: Thomas is a rationalist, or at least he tries to be. Instilled in him at a young age, he attempts to make decisions through utilitarian ethics, informed by his constantly-improving understanding of the world. An optimist at heart, Thomas always attempts to make the most of a bad situation, and has a great deal of faith in humanity to achieve great things and scrape the heavens by their own ingenuity. An affable, if occasionally awkward man, he tries to be as friendly as possible to others, and looks to do all in him power to improve he lives of others. Despite this, Thomas is clearly not one to trust others easily, and hates to burden others with problems facing only him. Thomas is obviously more comfortable in the company of books than in the company of people, and has a sharp distaste for the dogmatic or simple-minded members of society. Creativity, awareness and self-improvement are Thomas’ driving principles, dreaming of improving all of humanity through the greatest power of all: knowledge. A frequent criticism leveled at Thomas is “manipulative”, and it is not unwarranted. Thomas attempts to optimize the world, and though the personality above is his true self, he is more than willing to put on a persona to improve his life or the lives of others. Thomas also tends to over-estimate the value of himself in his mental calculations, and though consciously trying to remedy this overestimation, he occasionally rationalizes his own selfish desires through improper estimations of utilitarian value. Role: Adjunct-Professor of Meta-Magical Research at the Imperial Academy of Caradia, Thomas is knowledgeable in Natural Philosophy of all stripes, most focused on physics, medicine and the science of magic. His powers over magical phenomenon is limited, using what little power he has as accurately as he can for any challenges he cannot overcome by him intellect. Thomas is not ignorant of the less-reputable skills of thievery and lawlessness, and uses them as him morality dictates, usually in the pursuit of additional books, his personal addiction. Thomas is not a combatant, and his initial reaction to danger is to flee, but when such courses of action are impossible he meets danger with him limited, though highly accurate powers of tele- and pyro- kinesis [Thomas always wanted to throw fire like in the books, but never had the power for it. He contents himself with being able to make things rather hot, or rather cold, and move them around a fair bit] History: Thomas was born to loving parents in the town of [WIP]. Him father was an engineer under the employ of the ruling lord, and him mother tended to a flower garden and sold carnations on the street in front of him house. An adventurous youth, Thomas had difficulty stopping himself from trying to learn. He read all him father’s books until he understood them [a project years in the making, despite Thomas’ predisposition to mathematics]. Punctuating this arduous task, Thomas would frequently find himself in trouble exploring places he should not be, and accessing things he should not be accessing. Thomas is no prodigy in the realm of physical activity, but he learned how to not be seen, how to look out for danger, and more importantly the finer points of picking locks and palming purses from him seedier acquaintances in [WIP]. After being schooled by his father for the first decade of his life, he applied to and was accepted into the Imperial Academy. He managed to earn a small scholarship, but is still thankful to his parents for accepting the daunting costs for him to attend. Spurred on by him parents’ sacrifice and him natural disposition to learning, he threw himself into study with reckless abandon. Magic caught his eye, but with minimal talent for it, he did his best to equip himself with the arcane before moving onto the esoteric fields of study. Physics and Medicine caught his attention next, as well as a continued academic study of the causes and specifications of magical phenomenon. For almost a decade and a half Thomas learned from the college, earning a wage as a scholar and assistant teacher within a few years to offset the costs put upon him family. He is not particularly respected, still being young in the realm of academia and only having reached the rank of Adjunct-Professor. He dreams of making big contributions, and being immortalized either physically through magical research, or figuratively in a grand statue, one of the many portraying great minds that dot the Academy.

Name: Laila Arcion Age: 27 Gender: Female Personality: Quick-witted, clever, and extremely observant of the world and people around her, Laila is well suited to her profession. Give her a few scraps of information and a second or two, even under the rigor of combat, and she can more often than not devise a clever strategy. Give her a few pieces to a complex puzzle and some time to roll it around in her brain, and she can give you the big picture. Laila works in the darkness to protect those that would live in the light, oft times sacrificing her own morality to spare the innocence or lesson the suffering of those she has never even met. She is keenly aware of every death she has directly or inadvertently caused, and sincerely hopes that the good she has done outweighs the bad. She tries to remind herself that she is working for the greater good, especially when she wakes up drenched in cold sweat from the throes of one of her commonly occurring nightmares. One might think that because of her internal struggle with her conscious that Laila would be less than personable, however this is not the case. Her time in the darkness makes the light and goodness of the world all the more precious to her; it’s what keeps her fighting. She tries to maintain a pleasant, humorous air about her, if not at times being a bit of a smart-ass. Aside from that, she would never want to burden someone else with her problems anyway. Role/Title: Nightfighter of the Emperor’s Ghosts Throughout the entire expanse of the Caradia Empire there exists an information network. Made of people from the lowliest of servants to the most noble of houses, this vast and complicated multi-layered web of informants, spies, and assassins work in tandem to forward the goals of the Emperor and Empress and uproot those that would try to hide their illegal or even treasonous acts and ambitions from their sovereigns. These men and women are called Ghosts and like their namesakes, their very existence is a thing of rumor to the general populous. Indeed, even many of the lower informants are unaware of who they really provide information. A complicated ranking system which determines how much of the network one is privy to allows for minimal asset exposure by captured or turned operatives. The most common rank of those that can truly be called Ghosts on average know only four of five others, all of whom operate within the same city or region, and their main purpose is to keep tabs persons of interest and gather information. But Laila is a Nightfighter. A specialized Ghost trained to not only gather intelligence in more hostile or dangerous situations, but to be able neutralize any threats or targets deemed necessary. History: Laila was born to a horse rancher and his wife, on a modest plot of land in the outskirts of a small village; the eldest child of their four daughters. She grew up on the ideals that a strong work ethic and a bit of good weather were all that were necessary to live a happy life. Doing chores and running amok with the pack of village kids occupied most of her childhood, causing all sorts of shenanigans. Always an inquisitive and adventurous girl, the simplistic life that lay before her of marrying a boy from across the tiny village and becoming a farmer’s wife never appealed to her. Watching the odd patrol of the Empire’s soldiers pass through her town as a child probably didn’t help her to bring her head out of the clouds. At the age of fifteen Laila decided that she needed more, and ran away from home with a small bag and her spunky gelding. Her destination? The closest military outpost she knew of, about a week ride to the west of her village along a well-worn road. It was uneventful for a first adventure on her own, though she got little rest from jumping at every rustle of leaves in the night and instead of the welcome she expected to receive as someone coming to volunteer to serve in the Imperial Forces, she got laughed at. At fifteen she was a coltish little waif of a thing, all limbs and length and awkwardness and the commander of the post tried to convince her to go back home before she got herself hurt. But a mulish set to her jaw and consistent badgering for an entire day finally got the officer to submit to her wishes. She began her official training as a soldier a week later and eventually ended up being sent to supplement a small expeditionary force that patrolled the northern quadrant of their outpost’s area of operation. Laila served exceptionally well for the five years she spent as part of that troop, changing from a scraggly teenager to a tall, lithe warrior. Eventually her keen eyes and sound decision making allowed her to become the sergeant in charge of the group’s small contingent of scouts. She would never know exactly how it was that the Ghosts learned of her, let alone decided that she might be someone worth recruiting, but she remembered the exact moment her life changed drastically for the second time. A middle aged man, common in both look and speech, approached her outpost one sunny day towards the end of summer. With him he carried a sealed letter from her commander’s commander, ordering the assistance of Laila’s troop in the apprehension of a group of brigands that had been plaguing the one of the main trading routes for some time, though not in the region that her troop was responsible for patrolling. Hafiden was his name, and at the time he claimed to be a Lieutenant of the Army, though now she knows that was just a cover story. In reality he was a Ghost spymaster, come to her little Podunk fort in hopes of testing and recruiting Laila herself. He must have liked something he had seen throughout the following months in which they worked together, for at the end of the tour he told Laila that she had makings of not only a Ghost, but as one of their elite Nightfighters as well. It took her a year of intense training to earn the title of Nightfighter. What Hafiden could not teach her himself, he brought in other Ghosts who could. The first order of business was to teach Laila to read, a vital skill for a spy. She was taught the art of sneaking until she could tap the shoulder of the patrolling guards of their training facility without being detected. She learned to fight with and throw daggers, the main weapon of any Nightfighter’s arsenal. Hand-to-hand combat helped her develop a style that allowed the woman to use her speed and leverage to overcome enemies commonly stronger than herself. Locking picking, climbing (and falling, for that matter), speaking different accents, disguises, and many other small things that some may take for granted as important also made it into her training. After becoming a full-fledged Nightfighter, Laila remained a member of her mentor Hafiden’s circle of Ghosts, and took her orders directly from him. Missions often sent her to the corners of the empire and back again, doing anything from finding evidence of a noble’s corruption so that they could be brought to justice, to rooting out and assassinating the leader of a group of slave traders, or even providing unseen protection to an Caradian ambassador in one of their neighboring countries. She’s had more near deaths than she can remember in her years as a Ghost, and caused too many deaths that she can’t forget. But like Hafiden is always telling her, there is little rest for the wicked, and less for the Ghosts that haunt them in the shadows. Anything Extra: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=He4YV1uqwfs

Name: Juliette Rosewood Age: 18 Gender: Female Personality: Juliette is unabashedly herself, genuine to the point that others can get secondhand embarrassment from simply watching her antics. Especially her doomed-at-the-start romantic endeavors, like the time she performed an hour-long musical show to profess her love to a local knight commander. In her defense, she got mostly wonderful reviews, just not from the object of her affections. Suffice it to say, Juliette is a hopeless and hapless romantic. She's the type that falls quickly and deeply for the wrong person—she's 5 for 5 there—hence the haplessness of it all. That said, she knows what she wants and goes for it wholeheartedly. Once she sets a goal or makes a promise, it's as good as guaranteed. She is as passionate and determined as they come, and she always, always follows through. Her zeal is a double-edged sword, however. Juliette can come across as self-absorbed in her singular pursuit of her whims, and needs frequent reminders to look beyond herself and at the bigger picture. She tends to get swept up in the moment as well, and that often does not bode well for anyone involved. Her level of idiocy is difficult to gauge. Bereft of a formal education, there are noticeable gaps in her knowledge, and she has a habit of following gut over brain. But while Juliette's way of thinking may not be the most sophisticated, she makes it up with an inherent understanding of the vast empire, which she has twice explored from coast to coast. Her candor, meanwhile, is at once refreshing and devastating. Juliette is as transparent as a crystal, heart on sleeves and everything. She can always be relied upon to be honest, but there are truths that hurt and she doesn't hold back on them. Still, if one can look past her brutal honesty and well-nigh boundless enthusiasm, she is actually quite personable. Role/Title: (Magical!) Acrobatic Performer. Juliette is a part of Caradia's most renowned traveling performance troupe, where her acrobatic stunts and theatrical flourishes, infused with just the slightest hint of magic, have become a crowd favorite. History: Juliette was born into a big family and an increasingly meager household. With a grand total of twelve children, of which she was the youngest, it became difficult for her already negligent parents to properly care for their ever-growing brood. They had straddled the fine line between barely scraping by and going days without food for years, their source of income as unpredictable as the changing winds, until they finally tipped over onto the side of starvation. Her parents hit their all-time low just as she turned three, and by then, they had been past the point of desperation. Even with the support of her older siblings, who were forced to do odd jobs for the barest income, it was never enough. Her parents had to cut their losses, and that meant ridding themselves of what drained their resources the most: in this case, Juliette herself. Desperate times call for desperate measure, as they say. Whether by fate or sheer luck, Talberon's Traveling Theater Troupe! happened to pass through their small town that day. Her parents thanked the Goddesses for their blessing, for they would find no better procurer for their daughter than Talberon himself. The ostentatious man had an eye for aspiring talent and young Juliette, already swinging on trees and scaling walls thrice her size, was ripe for the picking. He paid a lofty sum for the three-year-old, and despite the vehement objections of her siblings, her parents gladly accepted the trade. Juliette grew up with the troupe, raised by a motley band of performers that quickly became her family. She trained under the best acrobats and dancers, who shared with her not only the tricks of the trade, but their zest for life as well. Juliette became a hit once she mastered her craft, and her inherent magical abilities gave her performances the crowd-pleasing flourish it needed. There was never a dull day with her troupe, and they traveled the whole of the empire, moving from town to town in a span of weeks, putting on daily performances. Her history of failed romantic intrigues began when she was fourteen years old and she fell for a nobleman's son. He wooed her with his reckless abandon and rebellious ways, but alas, their time together was short-lived. Just as Juliette thought he was the one and they would be together forever, his parents whisked him away to a reform academy and she never saw him again. Her next 'the one' wasn't it either, and neither were the next two (including that knight commander who broke her heart in public, which she might have set herself up for with that public confession and all). The last one hit her the hardest. She accidentally found 'the one' number five in her best friend and fellow trouper, even after spending the last ten years trying not to pine over him. With her less than impressive luck in such matters, she knew how it would end and the last thing she wanted was a strained relationship her most cherished friend. The Emperor's expedition was a chance to go off on her own adventure, and more importantly, to preempt yet another heartbreak. It was a win-win, really; she would be killing two birds with a stone, and maybe get a third if she happened to find the one, the real one, along the way. Besides, Juliette was certain her skillset would be beneficial to the Emperor. Helping out a village in need was nobler than anything she'd ever done, and she probably needed the good karma. Anything extra: - Juliette's brand of magic allows her to focus bursts of energy into certain parts of her body as a means of amplification. She alternately uses it on her hands and feet, for boosts in strength or speed. As an added bonus, whatever body part she targets becomes enclosed in a soft pink glow for the duration of her enchantment. This results in a pretty spectacular light show that has become her trademark move; the crowd eats it up every time. - She is terrible with names. Expect a nickname.