[hider=Jerod] - Name: Jerod - Class: Mercenary - Age: 25 - Sex: Male - Appearance: - [img]http://fc06.deviantart.net/fs71/i/2014/084/6/1/blademaster_by_max_dunbar-d7bodp2.jpg[/img] - Equipment: Iron Sword x1 - Personality: Jerod is a very down to earth, spiritual in a general sense, and honest to a fault mind of man. Jerod tends to be the one to call someone out for some reason or another, whether its warranted or appropriate or not. While the man is slow to anger, the quickest way to do it is to confuse his spirituality with religious fervor. He actively shows disdain and distrust for any organized religion, preferring his own, unshared beliefs. But this doesn't mean Jerod is a necessarily bad or mean person, as often as he might come across it with his uncensored mouth and generally common, crude manner of speaking. He just doesn't know to portray himself that well, nor does he care to in the slightest. He would rather be despised for what he is, then loved for what he is not, and will gladly be the first to make that happen, and talk someone's ear off about it, if they get him started, which can usually be done after about 6 drinks at the local tavern. - Biography: Born to a group of bandits, one would have expected that Jerod would not have turned out much better. But, while he was a child, several warriors tracked down and slew the band of bandits, leaving the young child without family for a brief moment. The oldest warrior adopted the bandit child and took him in. Adopted by a bounty hunter, Jerod learned swordsmanship and other useful wildland skills, from tracking and trapping to skinning and scavenging. Once he was old enough to hold his own, his adopted father took him out hunting bandits and other criminals, letting him learn on the job opposed to just study and safe training. The next few years were of him going from place to place, bounty to bounty, focusing to zero in on his swordplay and swordplay alone. When his old man passed on to natural causes, Jerod took what he had been willed and left for greener pastures, as the saying went. Having been 17 after his father died, Jerod drifted across the land, visiting sites and locations of legend and notoriety. From battlezones to memorials and everything in between, learning the history of the world and earning a paycheck with his skill, used to work here at some point after all. Gimme a few. He made enough money to make ends meet and afford clothes and a place to rest for a night. He made a small name for himself as a reliable source, and kept well clear of any attempts to involve him with this new Church going around. Wasn't his thing still, so he didn't bother, not until he could verify looking didn't hurt. At the age of 25, he had done a lot of work and shrugged rather then let it get to his head something fierce. He eventually drifted into Yllise, to look for more sight seeing spots or some work to do when its now. [/hider] [hider=Niya] Name: Niya Class: Troubadour Age: 19 Sex: Female Appearance: [img]http://www.twinkfish.com/al/WanderingHealer.jpg[/img] Equipment: x1 Heal Staff, x2 Vulnerary Personality: Niya is not one to talk much, finding her words wasted on most people. Generally only speaking a few words at a time, sometimes far fewer than is appropriate, one could consider her bedside manner as a healer rather lacking. What little she speaks, is made up far more in actions, being a woman that prefers to let actions speak for her rather than hollow words. Coupled with a complete lack of a sense of self preservation, she is one who will have no problem riding her horse into a fusillade of arrows and magical spells to bring a comrade back up to their feet, because its her duty to do so. A sense of duty drives her actions, more so than anything else, although to whom this duty is sworn to is hazy, at best. But still, she will generally heal before harm when it matters, but one should not expect her to be nice about it. Biography: Born to Feroxian family, one would be surprised to hear this on first meeting the woman, but one word or action out of her casts any doubt of that aside. Both her parents were descendents of those who immigrated to Ferox after the wars over 70 years in the past, having progressively grown more adapted to the climate of the land, that much so with their own single daughter Niya. One would have expected a far more warlike occupation for a Feroxian, but her family had been apothecaries and healers prior to their immigration, and all the warriors in a war can only go as far as their wounds allow. Niya was trained in both apothecary and healing magics, usually acting as an attendant at arena battles and with bandit hunting patrols, ensuring battles did not end lethally (Without undue reason), and that the hunters and their quarry made it back alive (For the quarry, not necessarily alive AND well, just alive). Her quiet, harsh exterior was not unduly noticed by those she tended to, as the Feroxian woman provided far too vital of help to worry about her attitude. Spending much of her life either healing, or in the saddle, it was unsurprising that she would eventually not return home, just riding onwards with travelling supplies enough to get her to another land, and do more work there. Duty drove her on, as always. Niya had heard much about the Church of Naga, its teachings and plans for the world. A load of madness, lies, and hatred, the lady had decided quickly. This Champion of Naga, however, did not sound like the rest of the church, on a gut instinct's decision. That, and she suspected War would follow this Champion and whoever he ended up leading and siding with, and that meant the sick and injured would be there as well. So it was a natural fit for her to make her way for warmer climates, following the trail of this Champion of Naga as best as she could, the proud woman high on her horse taking time in each village to mend the injured and cure the sick, never giving a name or purpose, just asking one or two questions, seeing to the unwell, and moving on, earning a monicker of just "The White Lady" on the way. [/hider]