Name:
Fleur Moreau

Race:
Dhampir

Height:
6’2” – 1.88m

Weight:
154lbs. – 69.85kg

Eye Color:
Red

Age:
31

Occupation:
Airship Engineer

Personality:
Tomboyish, while not inaccurate, is a word that barely scratches the surface of Fleur’s character. She’s a tough, smart girl that knows how the world works, and has molded herself to not only survive it, yet thrive in it. Despite her gender and race, she’s heavily interested in aviation, and considers her home in the clouds with the many flying machines that inhabit it. She also possesses a strong hatred of vampires for a reason she refuses to speak to most about.

History:
Centuries ago, vampires were a very common and very real threat to the working family, and there was very little to defend against them. Most families only had a flintlock or sword to defend themselves, both of which did little against an undead threat like this. And what farmer could afford something that could deal with them? Silver and enchanted weapons were incredibly expensive and hard to find, so most families were virtually naked as the day they were born. It was because of this weakness that the Moreau bloodline began, a clan of powerful Dhampirs that had recovered at least some of their humanity. Their tale is a tragic one, starting with a horrendous crime, and supposedly being quelled after years upon years of war.

The first true Moreau, a little girl by the name of Aceline, was the bastard daughter of a vampire that was known only as MM and an unnamed slave girl. The mother had wanted to keep the girl, yet the father cast out the child late one night in order to reclaim a lustful prize. It was never recorded how the young Aceline came into the care of a rare sight; a married couple of a vampire and human with several children like her, all of whom understood her plight. These were the Moreaus, a beacon of hope in a swampland conquered by a royal family known as the Vyre. As years passed and a revolution began, the dhampir girl married and had kids of her own, extending the family again. Into the battle they went when they came of age, fighting tooth and claw for the freedom of less malevolent creatures. Both sides held their ground in a stalemate for decades, no decisive winner ever appearing over the other at any one battle.

The tides turned, however, when a seventh-generation son known only as Marcus turned on the Moreaus and brought them down from the inside…

In the wasteland they fought in, it had seemed the sun never rose, and the moon never fell. Simply enough, this was a powerful illusion placed on the sky by the Vyre that let minimal sunlight through the thick, murky clouds that hung low over the swamp. Marcus figured this out and, after thirty years of a planned betrayal, tore a hole in this illusion over the Moreau’s hideout. The Vyre knew exactly where to go now, and amassed their full force to eliminate a pest.

They came in a break in the war, tearing out the doors and ripping through the caves with fervor. The entirety of the Moreau clan was slaughtered in one fell swoop, all aside from Marcus, the newest addition to the Vyre family. Following this raid, all records of this rebellion aside from its start and a heavily modified end date were burned to make sure the Vyres stayed in power, unopposed.

This was the end of the Fortnight Rebellion, and the supposed end of the Moreau clan. In the raid of their hideout, however, a father and baby were left alive as a warning. The baby was Fleur, the unspoken final hero of Mortvyre. Few know her origins, as according to history, the Moreaus were not brave warriors, but anarchists seeking to overthrow a powerful and respected family. Only she knows the whole story now, and it is up to her to carry on the task to one day free the swamplands of vampiric tyranny.

She's heard whispers of a magical artifact that's capable of granting wishes to the noble-hearted, and she intends to find and use it to free Mortvyre from the oligarchy it has always know. She needs a party to brave the harsh, western lands, and has attempted to mentally prepare herself for a total betrayal at the end of the journey. Whether or not this rumor will prove fruitful is totally up in the air at this point.

Racial Characteristics:
Reduced Appetite – A vampiric heritage pays off sometimes, giving Fleur a drastically slowed metabolism. A full meal can potentially last her a few days.

Increased Lifespan – While not immortal, she benefits from an extra 50 or so years tacked onto the life of a human.

Weakness to Sunlight – While in direct, intense sunlight, Fleur’s magic loses its edge and forces her to fight more defensively.

Fear Trumps Logic – Small, superstitious villages will likely ignore her mostly human characteristics and focus on the white hair, red eyes, and the runes on her left arm. Anything from a refusal of service to a lynch mob may occur because of this.

Blood Feast - While it isn't necessary for their survival, Dhampirs can still consume the blood of others. Doing this will send them into a feral state, granting increased speed and strength at the cost of intelligence until it works its way out of their system.

Skills:
Engineer - Fleur's career has granted her with a near-supernatural ability to repair modern machinery with ease.

Override - Fleur, if close enough to them, can rewire hostile steam and clockworks to fight for the party. More specifically, her.

Aviator - With an affiliation for the skies, Fleur is a competent pilot for most air crafts.

Weaponry:
Sunspear – An enchanted sword made from blessed silver and blisterwood – a rare wood known for causing a burning sensation in undead – passed down through the Moreau clan. It’s known to cause crippling pain to vampires and other undead still capable of feeling the sensation. Otherwise, it functions as a durable blade.

Stiletto – A long, thin knife kept on her right leg for emergencies. Good for piercing chain mail.

Armor:
Dress Uniform – An elegant ensemble that serves as lightweight armor. While it won’t stop a blade fully, it will certainly take the edge off it. Bullets are what magic shields are for.

Mechanical Pauldron – An eerie sheet of steel salvaged from a crashed airship, molded into the shape of a skull. It is unknown what purpose the gears below serve, but the gold chain steadies a service medal hanging from the bottom of this armor piece.

Runemaster’s Glove – A black, leather glove on Fleur’s left hand. It serves as a conduit for her magic and has a summoning circle stitched into the palm.

Magic:
Runic Magic – Rather than carry around countless parchments and scrolls, Fleur had runes tattooed into her left arm. While it was a painful process, it pays off in combat to not have pieces of paper burning up in your hands.

Fighting Style:
Spellsword – After all, “Word” and “Sword” are only one letter off from each other. Wielding both on the battlefield proves effective, as a combination of mystical forces burning enemies and steel slicing through everything else is both versatile and deadly. About as aggressive as it sounds.

Inventory:
-4 days of emergency rations. It’s really just a few chicken sandwiches.
-6 water skins, more than enough for a walk in the desert.
-Basic sewing kit.
-Engine repair kit.
-Hair pin, contains a small-scale clockwork that serves as a messenger bird.

Other:
-Speaks with a French accent.
Theme - Blood Hunt

Current Wealth:
149 Gold 21 Silver 67 Copper

Name: Verity Hawker
Appearance: Picture
Race: Human
Height: 5'8''
Weight: 120lbs
Age: 25
Occupation: Cartographer

Personality:
Quirky by nature, she's probably best described as capricious, brazen, and outgoing. She loves the study of runes but prefers field testing rather than lab testing for her ideas. Her intense focus is useful in her intellectual pursuits, and she can suddenly turn into an introvert in the middle of putting a project together. Generally speaking, she doesn't follow social norms and attaches no value to them, calling things as she sees them and often acting in unladylike ways. Is she friendly? Most of the time, if one is inclined to academic conversation or exciting stories about the Frontier.

History:
Verity was born in the Yaroi Republic, where she attended public school and later received scholarships to pursue the study of runes. In addition to learning advanced rune techniques, she also had a universal education studying cartography, chemistry, mathematics, psychology, anatomy, history, geography, geology, alchemy, basic engineering—you get the point. She had the ability to soak up knowledge and had great promise as a graduate student to become a true expert in her field.

But lab work was boring! The university didn't pursue more diverse branches of runic magic and as news of the frontier came in, she realized their materials were also exceptionally limited. Desiring to truly advance runic magic further and to make a name for herself, Verity decided to adhere to a goal that would financially support both—to find the Wishing Star. While she finds the nature of the stone intriguing, she also doesn't believe it exists. It simply happens to be a namesake for her desire to scour the frontier and test out her runic creations.

Other: Her favorite sauce is honey mustard


Weapons:


Armour: Runic Corset. It's under her dress, but has runes inscribed into it. These don't protect against bullets or blades any better than regular leather—rather, it provides elemental resistance. Heat, cold, dust, and wetness are repelled by the runes, keeping its wearer at regular temperatures while also keeping them dry and clean. It also provides protection against magical flame and electricity, effectively reducing the damage of such offensive spells by half.

Clothes: A long, button-up blue coat with black stockings and knee-length blue boots. Under the coat is a pleated black dress and a black, laced petticoat.

Magic: Runic. Verity can make defensive and offensive elemental runes. Her preferred medium is metal.

Skills:
-Frontier Knowledge: The Frontier is a wide, unexplored place, but what research journals do exist from the field are things Verity has read and researched. While this amounts to knowing little more than 1% of what's out there, it gives her a basic idea of what to expect in the climate and terrain of the Frontier.

-Basic Engineering: Verity can make basic solutions and extractions (glue, oil, herbal tonics, even some metals) with her knowledge of chemistry (not to mention metallurgy) and understands how coal and rune powered machinery works.

-Cooking: Verity can cook! Seriously, she knows how to prepare and cook wild plants and animals in addition to more domestic baking.

-Cartography: Verity understands how to measure, annotate, represent, and interpret actual land to maps and vice-versa.

-Academics: Verity knows math, history, and the basic anatomy of humans and most normal animals. She's got some philosophy and cultural studies under her belt as well, and knows the basic geography of the world.

Fighting style:
Verity isn't necessarily trigger happy, but her morals are few when it comes to restraint. By nature, her magic can't be used as quickly as a hand weapon or with the range of a firearm. Instead, it relies on precise timing and distance, often following up one pattern with another to maximize efficiency depending on the situation. A lack of hand-to-hand combat experience means she relies on others to draw attention away from her so her patterns can form and release.


Inventory:



Money: 150g

Name: Thania Evereth Langston.
Race: Human.
Height: 154 cm.
Weight: 42 kg.
Age: 17 years.
Occupation: Explorer/Bounty Hunter.

Appearance:
Thania is a bit on the sort side, being barely above five feet and weighing less than your typical grain sack. She doesn't look all that intimidating as well, her small, round face, green eyes, silky skin and fairly light blond hair actually make her look a year or so younger than her declared age, which maybe problematic sometimes, but in a lawless land such as the Frontier, usually isn't. At least her body developed a decently feminine figure, she may not have the most curvaceous silhouette but, she still has room to grow. One can only think how much of a beauty Thania will be once she finishes maturing.

Personality:
Thania is quite serious. She tends to avoid slacking off as much as she can and will spare none of sharp witted remarks when she thinks they are being lazy or lame. She tries to behave in a logical and proper way but her lack of experience causes her to blunder more than she would like to, rendering her seriousness moot, especially when dealing with cute things like children and small animals. When pointed her mistakes, Thania can shift to a more temperamental behavior. Using violence to fix things is not beyond as well.

History:
Owing to her age, Thania's story is not that big, though it's also not very known as well, since she rarely talks about her past with anyone. The most credited theory is that Thania is the daughter of a well-to-do, perhaps noble, family of the main land that has ran away from home for a reason that might vary from avoiding an arranged marriage to being guilty of an unspeakable crime. Either way, the end result is always the same. Thania arrived on the Frontier with little but the clothes on her back and golden pocket watch and has managed to make a living for herself as an explorer and bounty hunter, making some interesting associates and acquaintances along the way. News of the Wishing Star interest Thania not because she has a wish that she would like to see fulfilled but, because they mean more opportunities of work for her.


Weapons:
Thania's primary weapon is a ten-shots, lever-action rifle, customized for precision shooting; it can accept nearly any kind of conventional ammunition, though the range and precision vary wildly between different types of cartridges. Thania carries around quickloaders to make out the most of the weapon's potential. Her main side arm is a small caliber revolver but she also has three knives, one of which she keeps concealed, just in case.

Armour:
What use armor has when any jerk with a gun can shoot you through it? Thania's usual getup are short, sleeveless, suspender dresses that help her fight of the harsh climate of the Frontier. She usually wears then along with simple, puffy, short-sleeved dress shirts, an undershirt (to keep her outer shirt from showing anything unintentionally), a leather corset (both for support and to add some extra shape for her figure) and cravat. When outside, Thania also puts on a long sleeved, high-collar, waistcoat and sturdy gloves to protect her arms and hands. Thania's typical footwear tend to be sturdy looking thigh high boots. She wears a lots of accessories, most of them with practical function, as belts, pouches and bandoliers, plus a golden pocket watch attached to a waist chain. As a last touch of practical girlishness, Thania keeps her hair away from her eyes with a tiara decorated with a metallic adornment that looks like a butterfly's wing. For log travels Thania dons an overcoat, to protect her from the many hazards of the Frontier.

Magic:
As far as it's known, Thania has no skill with any form of magic at all.

Skills:
Thania is an adroit explorer and sharpshooter, with a cunning to outside of the box thinking and problem solving. While she's no engineer, Thania can work with simple gizmos as wel as do repair and maintenance on most types of guns. Thania is very literate and a fast reader, indicating a fairly high education, but won't talk much about that, like everything else regarding her past.

Fighting style:
As expected Thania prefers a more calculated approach to fighting, picking targets one at a time based on their apparent weaknesses. Her optimal range of fighting is between 20 and 100 meters, where she can use her reflexes and memory to the best, delivering accurate shots in rapid succession.


Inventory:
Thania keeps basic stocks of food and water, as well as at least a couple bottles of high quality whiskey. She has that last one mostly because of its high alcohol content, which makes it an useful in number of ways. Thania also has some basic general usage tools and implements for maintenance of her guns (including a kit to reload spent cartridges). Other than these few notable items, all of which can be packed in a backpack as well as her pouches and pockets, Thania's possessions are only mundane things, like a spare changes of clothes, perfume, soap, some rope (because you can never have enough rope), cooking utensils, etc. She seems to always have some form of candy on her person and is rarely seen without some of it on her mouth, even then, Thania brushes her teeth regularly (she carries around sodium bicarbonate both for this and for baking), so Thania's teeth are pristine.

Money:
Around 150 gold, most of which is in the form of silver and copper, to make small businesses easier.

Name: Eamon Vaas
Race: Elves
Height: 5'10''
Weight: 145 lbs
Age: 19
Occupation: Pugilist (Nominally, Student)
Personality:
To say that Eamon is cheerful is like saying the sky is blue. Anyone within line of sight can tell that he's cheerful--the spring in his step, the perky smile, the ease of his laughter? Forget about it. An excitable and friendly sort, Eamon is the kind of chatterbox more than willing to talk your ear off as an 'expert' on a variety of subjects, including most forms of manly arts, some forms of womanly ones, and even a few academic topics if you can get him on the subject. Opinionated but easy-going, it's of tremendous surprise to most people that he considers himself, in his words, 'a gentleman first and foremost and a pugilist shortly thereafter', as it's relatively hard to imagine a situation where he would be angry or frustrated enough to throw a punch. And it's true--it takes a great deal to even tip the young man's mood!

He just throws punches anyway.
History:
As far as Eamon is concerned, history is boring. His is, certainly, with the only point of interest being just a few years over a decade ago on the anniversary of his first gunshot wound.

Born to a pair of elven carpenters struggling to make a name for themselves in the Kingdom of Sola, when he was young it was a struggle for them and Eamon's two siblings to get the recognition they deserved. They were elven, after all, and though not necessarily of the brigand persuasion as many orcs or goblins were commonly seen to be there were more than a few who remembered barbed arrows and banditry from their pointy-eared cousins. Money was hard to come by, but they persevered and flourished. Eamon, of course, couldn't be bothered to remember much of such hardship--as far as he was concerned his youth was cheerful and bright, the labors of his parents and irritations of his siblings long in the past and ultimately paling in comparison to that fateful day he was nearly blown in half.

At the tender age of six, Eamon was shot in the chest during a chase involving the town guard and a particularly well-equipped bandit making off with a not-inconsiderable amount of wealth from a local business. A classic situation of wrong-place-wrong-time, the bandit fired off a round that caught him high in the chest before hitting his intended target, the pursuing guard. Though both dropped, only Eamon made it through. Though at first it seemed to be a miracle, later investigation by the local healers revealed it to be a bit less-than: Eamon was one of those rare few able to summon innate magic to his cause, and it was this resilience and enhanced healing factor that prevented him from losing most of his shoulder and quite likely his life to an errant bullet.

He had never been prouder.

The healer in charge of him, who had never seen such a thing, got in contact with a friend of his in the Magnus Empire; in spite of his elven heritage, it was clear that Eamon had a natural gift to be nurtured. Though his parents were hesitant, especially with him at such a young age, even then the boy's spirit of adventure couldn't be squelched. He wheedled, weaseled, cajoled, bribed, threatened, cried, and otherwise made himself sufficiently annoying until they acquiesced--a year later he was in the custody of one Lord Arnold Royan, attending the Obertus Academy for Young Persons of Interest. He'd been warned that school would be difficult, that he would spend much of the standard academic year away from his family, and that much would be expected of him. He would, he was told, grow accustomed to it.

So he did.

Though notably poor at academics, it was clear from the start that he was a talented sorcerer with interests in more physical affairs. As he grew older he grew bolder, acclimating himself to the Magnus ideal of Personal Power Above All and demonstrating himself more than capable of holding his own in the ruthless back-room brawls and under-the-table foot-fights of youth. By the time he was sixteen he'd become the Obertus Boxing Champion, and as he began his more advanced coursework he attracted the eye of one Prof. Marcus Absimilard, an innate sorcerer teaching an elective involving the use of runic magic to amplify one's own natural talents. Eamon and the Professor grew quite close in the following three years, bonding over a shared love of punching the living daylights out of anyone stupid enough to get in a ring with them, and it was here that Eamon developed his love of Archaeology and crushed his poor parents' hearts in one fell swoop. Archaeology was of notably less use than Finance to a family such as theirs, which is what he was supposed to be studying from the get go.

With word of the Wishing Star having fallen in the frontier, however, both Marcus and Eamon were aflutter with excitement. What a find! What a journey! Though the aging professor was locked into his tenure and unable to travel, the pair hatched a scheme to send Eamon over as 'field experience' towards his education.

Eamon parents, meanwhile, still think he's safe and sound at school. Pointedly.

Combat section
Weapons:
Eamon's current arms are...well...his arms. A purist, he prefers to rely on himself and his magics over fancy, new-fangled contraptions like 'swords' or 'guns'. In spite of himself, he does carry a frankly ridiculous Ladykiller Mk. III .50 Cal revolver, which he is frankly ridiculous as shooting. His working theory is that bigger bullets are better and if he's going to get lucky he might as well make it count.
Clothing: Eamon dresses well, though his clothes are often in various states of disarray--they lack his personal enchantments, so he goes through them relatively quickly in the course of an average...we'll say 'outing'. He prefers to dress in a suit and tie (tan and black, respectively), with a leather over-coat to keep off the dust. He also wears glasses, as he's a tad nearsighted.
Magic:
Eamon uses his natural capabilities of Innate Magic augmented by the Runic arts he's learned from Prof. Absimilard. Strangely enough, Eamon's innate talents are entirely internal, 'limited' to the extensive manipulation and enhancement of his personal attributes such as healing, strength, speed, and other such assorted esoterica. The adjustments made by the Runic Magic he's learned are largely implemented via the tattoos he uses as a matter of course, such as the ones on his hands that prevent them from shattering (or burning, or freezing, or, or, or...) when he punches his way through a steam engine or the ones on the soles of his feet that allow him to focus his energy through them and amplify an ordinary stride, step, jump, or skip.
Fighting style:
Eamon's fighting style is acrobatic at best and idiotic at worst. It can best be described as 'martial arts', and at worst classified as 'punching someone until they don't need it anymore'. Impossibly fast and a good deal stronger than he looks, he prefers to close with his targets and take advantage of things like joint locks and strikes to soft areas to incapacitate them (his boxing days taught him how silly it was to focus on the hard bits if you're actually fighting). He is able to dodge, catch, or deflect most standard projectiles and bullets that come his way, and he isn't above relying on his enhanced healing to take an otherwise dangerous hit and cross-counter like a boss. He has a poor penchant for fair play, and in many engagements (even life and death ones) he'll only pursue options he considers 'sporting' until the other side 'cheats'. They usually regret it.

Miscellaneous stuff
Inventory:
Eamon carries a basic archeology kit (magnifying lenses, brushes, charcoal and papers, inks and pents, all that jazz) as well as rations and water for five days of travel, which typically last about half that time given how much the boy eats when he's not keeping his mind on it. Aside from that he has a basic pack including a collapsible shovel, compass, knife, rope, tent, flint & steel, and a small magnet.
Money: 150gp