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Name:Gormun Hectarious Vlandt
Aliases:Stone Wall
Age:42
Gender: Male

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Height:5’9
Weight:208lbs~
Build:Gormun is a muscular man though compact. He looks nothing like a bodybuilder but seemingly has the strength of one.
Eyes:Blue
Hair:Brown
Skin Tone:Tanned white
Tattoos/Scars/Piercings: None

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Loyal * Honest

Personality: Sir Gormun is a bold man who has always aimed to positions beyond the class he has been born into. Years of experience have hardened him to the world yet that has not made him unkind. Rather, Gormun seeks to help as many people as he can but knows the reality of the situation may limit how much help he can provide and how much damage it may cause to one person for choosing to help someone else. He has never been one to give up as is shown by his rise to a captain of the Vigilants.

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History: Gormun Vlandt, born of Patricia Illimund and Corbin Vlandt, was the middle child of his family and due to inherit next to nothing from his Father’s blacksmith business. Though having shown signs of being a good salesman and, having been a key figure in the running of his Father’s business, Gormun didn’t want to live the life of a salesman. Instead, the young boy struck out at the age of 16 and moved to the city of Hightower where he joined the guards of the city, eventually gaining the confidence to enlist in the military of Aurelion. His early years of the military were rather lackluster, more focused on being an envoy between the captains of platoons rather than actual combat.

After years of running messages, carrying supplies, and watching over stalls for vendors, Gormun finally saw action during a raid from Havarth. Battle was shocking to him, hardly being able to stand his own against the seasoned warriors from Havarth. Despite losing fifty of the near two hundred soldiers left in Hightower, Aurelion hardly won the battle. The raiders had left with nearly all the stores of valuables, including furs, and only five dead. Gormun fell upon his ideals to help rebuild the damaged Hightower, working with the people of the city to build fortifications. He slowly worked up the ranks of his company until the day a Vigilant commander took over the city. He admired the man of power, even going so far to assume the man’s first name as his middle name, and joined the Vigilants. Since then, he has been working across the entire of the Hightower area and down into the territory of Rilla.

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Character Quote: "By my hand and that of the my Lord, we shall protect and serve."

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Name:Arthur Wilhelm Vendam
Aliases:The Valiant.
Age:67
Gender: Male

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Height:5’11
Weight:224lbs~
Build:Arthur, despite his old age, is still very much muscular though he hasn’t seen combat in a long time.
Eyes:Hazel
Hair:Brown
Skin Tone:Nordic white
Tattoos/Scars/Piercings: None

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Loyal * Zealous

Personality:The cause of the Vigilants is what drives Arthur, it is what pushes him along the path he has gone through thus far. He devotes every waking hour he has to the ideals which he based the Vigilants off of, never straying from the past lest he be tempted by the darker ideals of his subordinates who fight for money and will kill if not paid. Always the optimist, Arthur has believed in the good of people and will fight for such a belief. To him, thieves can become normal citizens, murderers can fight for their people as much as they fight each other, and outcasts can integrate.

Yet, his illness has kept him in Nibben Castle since it struck him, leaving him bedridden or hardly able to walk without help at most. Though, that hasn’t stopped him from addressing his soldiers as well as he can. He fights against his illness to talk to the people, to give them hope, and to prove that nothing will stop him.

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History:Arthur was born a noble, brought into the world with a constant silver spoon in his mouth. His mother coddled him, his father shut down his grandiose ideas of honor from the stories of Knights, and his own brothers pushed him around. He was given the teaching that any noble would have been; being shown how to read and write, how to ride a horse, and how to use a dagger to protect himself. But that life was not one he wanted to live. He wanted to be like the Knights of old, men who fought for honor and the good of the people. Arthur, despite his Father’s scolding and denial of him as an heir, joined up with a travelling few knights as a squire. He spent his first few years with them doing menial tasks, buckling on their armor for them and maintaining their equipment while doing physical training. It wasn’t until he was sixteen that he was even given the right to wield a sword in mock combat.

Years passed by, rather uneventful as they were even though he learned much from them, as the young Arthur was molded into a man by the knights he travelled with. His very world was changed by his decision has be became more in tune with the world and the way of the people around him. Combat with bandits had taught him quite a bit and fighting off raiders from Havarth had taught him even more. Then the cataclysm happened and his very world was torn apart. The monsters which came from the thin veil left torn open had brought the world into chaos. Arthur was lost at first, unsure what to do in his new world, until he saw the plight of the people who had been attacked by the monsters. Thus, the young Arthur struck out to establish the Vigilants with fellow soldiers looking to help the people. It took over a year to gather the forces necessary to fight off the monsters, but Arthur was diligent in his duty to bring them together. It was not until he heard of the death of his parents and siblings, the singular exception of this being his sister whom he had never met, at the hand of monsters that he gave the Vigilants his former home and now inherited castle as a base of operations.

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Character Quote: "We fight for the people, to protect and serve for them, and die for them. It is our honour to fight against the monsters for them."

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Name: Darathor Magnus of House Howlin
Aliases:The Scribe, Old Man
Age:62
Gender:Male

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Height: 4’4
Weight: 206~lbs
Build:Darathor is a stocky dwarf, a mixture of both muscle and fat. Though, in his case, mostly fat.
Eyes:Grey
Hair:Brown
Skin Tone:Slightly tanned and dirty white.
Tattoos/Scars/Piercings:None

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Know-it-all * Boisterous

Personality:Darathor is your typical dwarf, loud and lively with a love for women, mead, and… knowledge. Unlike other dwarves, Darathor hails from a family of scribes who have long kept the history of their people, the city of Drönholm, and the Surface. His love for knowledge is so vast and left so unsatiated that it has long been said that he, and by association those of his family, are said to lust for books more than women. Adventure had never tickled Darathor’s fancy, though the allure of knowledge was far too entrancing to let the idea of being attacked by a random bandit stop him.

Name: Eirik Skjoldsson
Aliases: RagnarÖk
Age: 36
Race/Ethnicty: Havarthi Human
Place of Origin: A longhall in the northern Havarthi hinterlands, named Bjóðja Hlǫkk, which is roughly translated to "A Challenge to Battle".
Gender: Male
Class/Job: Fighter/Vigilant

Strength: 20
Dexterity: 10
Constitution: 15
Intelligence: 10
Wisdom: 10
Charisma: 10


Height: 6'2"
Weight: 210 lb.
Build: Muscular
Eyes: Steel Grey
Hair: Brown
Skin Tone: White
Tattoos/Scars/Piercings: Eirik is covered in scars all over his body. It comes with being a warrior.
Day To Day Attire: Loose cloth tunic and leather breeches, with tall boots that come up to mid-shin.
Strengths:

• Has years of combat experience in many locales.
• Is extremely perceptive, and notices almost everything that happens around him.
• Is more physically capable than most men, including other Vigilants.

Weaknesses:

• Has authority issues, and will argue with anyone who tells him what to do.
• Is one of the most honest men you'd meet, which means he doesn't hold back for fear of hurting anyone's feelings.
• Hates temperatures of 80+ degrees Fahrenheit, and overheats easily in such weather.

Honest * Brusque * Mercenary * Pragmatic

Sexuality: Straight
Relationship Status: Single
Personality: Eirik is a simple man. He'll take almost any job you can throw at him, he'll perform the job to the letter, regardless of morality or ethical concerns, and he will get paid. Simple as that. He doesn't dance around a fact, even if it might be best to be diplomatic, or might hurt someone's feelings.

He has a hard exterior, but if you break through his shell, he will be a loyal companion, and will defend you with his life. Deep down, he still wants to care, but the world has shaped him into what he is now, a mercenary man that lashes out at life. If there is a problem in his life, he will attack it with twice as much vitriol and vigor as is required.

Habits:

• Eirik cleans his armor and weapons every night before going to sleep, so they're always in top condition.
• Eirik exercises every morning at the crack of dawn, going through a vigorous regimen of cardio, strength exercises, and weapons training.
• Eirik offers a short prayer to his ancestors while holding a totemic amulet before taking a job, so his spirit can find its way home, in case the job is his last.

Hobbies: Eirik enjoys woodcarving, and often whittles random pieces of wood into carvings.
Fears:

• Fear of Heights: Eirik, as a boy, fell from a cliff into the ocean, and almost drowned, only getting saved by his older brother's quick action. To this day, he freezes up if he gets near a ledge higher than a rooftop.
• Fear of the Ocean: Due to his childhood accident, Eirik is terrified of the ocean, and he gets sick if he has to go on a boat.
• Fear of Intimacy: Eirik is afraid of connecting to people, after a lifetime of everyone either dying on him or leaving him behind. He freezes up if any personal connection is made with him, and tries to escape the situation.

Likes:

• Money
• Carving
• Woodwork
• Exercising
• Taking care of his equipment
• Fighting

Dislikes:

• Displays of emotion
• Not getting paid
• Seeing someone not take care of their equipment properly
• Seeing someone fight poorly
• Diplomacy
• Lying

• Skill: Sword and Board Fighting
• Skill: Unarmed Combat
• Skill: Tracking
• Skill: Stealth
• Skill: Wilderness Survival
• Skill: Woodworking
• Skill: Horse Riding

Possessions Generally On Person:

• Item: Totemic Ancestor-Worship Amulet
• Item: Carving Knife
• Item: Whatever carving project he is working on at the time
• Item: Dummy coinpurse, filled with smallchange
• Item: Hidden pouch inside his belt with the larger denominations
• Item: Flint & Steel

Weapons: Personal weapons, no magically enhanced items

• Item: Hand-and-a half Steel Longsword
• Item: Steel Shortsword
• Item: Steel Longknife
• Item: Boot Knife

Armor: Base armor only, no magically enhanced items

• Item: Half-Plate/Half-Chainmail Armor (Covered in a tabard, has gauntlets and boots)
• Item: Banded Wooden Targe Shield

Animals:

• Animal: Kay, his chestnut stallion warhorse.

Pack Contents:

• Item: Camping supplies
• Item: Tent
• Item: Bedroll
• Item: Month's worth of Rations

Potions:

• Item: Healing Potion

Parents: Dead, and their relationship was strained, at best.
Siblings: An older brother, he's alive, and they were best friends.
Childhood: He fell off a cliff and into the ocean when he was young, but was rescued by his older brother.
Adulthood: His parents died when he was 19 years old, and he was exiled with his brother from his home.
Special Moments: Nothing really, the years tend to blur with all of the violence Eirik has done.
Current Events: Eirik became a Vigilant after was exiled, so he currently just wanders in search of work.


Character Quote: "The world is a harsh place. The strong will always prevail."
Theme Song: If I Had A Heart by Fever Ray
Aura Color: A solid blue with the tiniest speck of white at its' core.
Scent: He'd smell like dirt. And sweat. Obviously.
Anything Else:Vardenvall?

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Name: Gûshruk of the Bone Song Tribe;
Aliases: n/a
Age: Seasons have aged him. He lies somewhere between youthful arrogance and elderly incontinence, sporting wrinkles but few and shallow; bodily vigor, but that which begins to wane. One could suppose he's roughly ninety years old (45-50 in human aging).
Race/Ethnicity: Orcish Teureleyan
Place of Origin: Certruri-Cerce
Gender: Male
Class/Job: Blacksmith and leader of the White Worms bandit gang.

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Though we will not be rolling dice for feats, this will give a base line to run off of for your character. Max for any stat is 20, average is 10. You have 75 stat point to assign between the six stats.

Strength: 15
Dexterity: 8
Constitution: 13
Intelligence: 6
Wisdom: 15
Charisma: 18

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Height: ≈20 hands
Weight: ≈17-18 stones
Build: Although he does not lead a particularly rigorous lifestyle, Orcish heritage nonetheless grants him prosperity measured in muscle mass. By Orc standards he is rather weak but still he towers over most men. His body is high both in fat and in muscle.
Eyes: The "whites" of his eyes are black. The irises are yellow.
Hair: Black
Skin Tone: Grey
Tattoos/Scars/Piercings: His warpaint is a rich blue-green, probably a woad-heavy mixture of woad leaf and yarrow root. His ceremonial scars, covering most the area of his arms and torso, are smattered here and there with bona-fide burn scars.
Day to Day Attire: A thick leather girdle; a knee-length skirt of leather and mail, and a shockingly clean thong underneath; sandals or more rarely, fur-lined boots. Cuir bouilli wrist bracers. In stormy or freezing weather he's a messy amalgamation of bearskins.
Strengths:

• Empathy
• Leadership
  • Logistics
  • Strategy
  • Public speaking; speech-giving
• Craftsmanship

Weaknesses:

• Literacy
• High culture (art, history, music et cetera)
• Beauty contests

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Patient * Cunning * Possessive * Tribal

Sexuality: Hetero
Relationship Status: Married
Personality: His selfishness extends to those in close proximity; "his" people are treated better and trusted more than outsiders by every measure, from race and ethnicity to chosen allegiances. He defines property very strictly within the bandits, and is quick to anger at trespassers upon his possessions; rather hypocritical given his new profession. Still, he is a steadfast and reliable being who takes honor very seriously. If he says he won't kill someone then that person is safe, despite, or perhaps because of, people's natural misgivings about Orcs. He enjoys simple, humble pleasures, and is lavish or extravagant in very few regards.
Habits:

• Charcoal is the smith's lifeblood, and he detests even the notion of running low. Constantly he is either stealing it or schooling his soldiers on how to create it.
• Salt is more valuable than gold in this company.

Hobbies: He is immensely proud both of his high-quality steelworks and of his charcuterie. When the bandits steal a calf or hunt down a doe, Gûshruk ascertains the meat will taste delicious, and that no edible parts are wasted.

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A listing of skills, such as horseback riding, and natural abilities, such as night vision - this also includes any racial edges

• Skill: Blacksmith
  • While far from elegant, his weapons are well-balanced, well-tempered, and if one can deign to wield them, nearly sure never to break.
• Skill: Tactician
  • His "gut feelings" have saved the tribe more than once, despite being both illiterate and uneducated. He's got enough wits about him to know when something is a trap, and further, when to push his advantages.
• Skill: Charcutier
  • All Orcs share a passion for good meat; if not cooking it then eating it. Gûshruk partakes in both with enthusiasm.
• Skill: Warrior
  • He tried to live a modest and peaceful life before the Hecatomb. It was not to be.
• Skill: Diplomat
  • He knows what he wants, what he needs, and how to articulate both. He gives the speeches around here. Few if any pay his speech impediment (he has rather large tusks, after all) any mind.
• Skill: Bodybuilder
  • Orcs are blessed, if nothing else, with hardy and strong bodies by nature.

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Parents: Before the world ended they were a happy, if struggling, tribe. If still they live, he is too ashamed to look them in the eye.
Siblings: Too many to count; brothers, sisters, cousins, nieces and nephews alike. Many are half-Orcs, thanks to uncles' insatiable "appetites" (whether they were bedding mates or victims being largely irrelevant). When so many die so young either from sickness or from futile bloodshed, of course most Orcish males try to win wars of succession too.
Childhood: Father was unique among Orcs for wanting to coexist with humans, trading with them and hearing their stories and drinking their good ales. Perhaps he was weaker than other Orcs, and he knew, down in the depths of his prideful heart, that he would lose any feuds he started, even if he could never bring himself to admit it. Whatever the root cause, Gûshruk's childhood was difficult. Growing up amongst humans entailed an inherent distrust, and distaste, for the violent race.
Adulthood: Certruri-Cerce, a massive city on a bustling coastline hosting countless legions of merchant ships, supposedly gave the family its chance, like all craftsmen, tradesmen and laborers who pass underneath its renowned portcullis, at peaceful prosperity. Perhaps it did, and they failed to fully grasp it. Gûshruk had fewer customers than other smiths and made less money on his wares, many assuming that he was stupid enough to be swindled. After the costs of iron, coal, and tools, he only barely scraped enough silver from his livelihood to sustain his growing clan, who lived in the squalor of the city's slums.
Special Moments: Only the bandits themselves know how Gûshruk got involved in banditry. He doesn't like to talk about it, but they alone have the right to know.

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Theme Song: "Shadow Twin" by Za Frumi
Aura Color: A vibrant sapphire-blue; if auras can change and be corrupted then a sterile grey dullness creeps into this extravagant hue.
Other: _{Why is it "Vardenvall" instead of "Vindervall"?}

Name:Jackal Ventmaw Westari
Aliases: Ventmaw, Carn
Age: 184
Race/Ethnicty: Gorgas
Place of Origin: The westari Gorgas Clan
Gender: Male
Class/Job: Mercenary/Hunter

Though we will not be rolling dice for feats, this will give a base line to run off of for your character. Max for any stat is 20, average is 10. You have 75 stat point to assign between the six stats.

Strength: 20
Dexterity: 10
Constitution: 17
Intelligence: 10
Wisdom:13
Charisma: 5


Height: 9'6"
Weight: 994 lbs
Build: Slim but compact with muscle
Eyes:Yellow illuminating, crocodile-like eyes with a faint crimson glow
Hair: Two 4ft horns on the back of his end, and a smaller horn on the tip of his snout.
Skin Tone: Cobalt Blue diamonded-shaped scales with a white belly
Tattoos/Scars/Piercings: He has a large five claw scar over his left eye, and a scar from what seems to be a stab wound on his chest.
Day To Day Attire: An iron reinforced armored loincloth made from hairs of an unknown mammal, two iron wrist guards, and two iron rings and wrapped fiber around the ankles.
Strengths: Max of 3

• Practically a monster, he is absurdly strong and durable, extremely dangerous in close range combat.
• Fire based attacks and other factors based upon high temperatures are directly ineffective against him aside from side factors like explosive force that could result from such an attack.

Weaknesses: Minimal of 3

• His exposed chest is an easy weak
• point past his natural armor, being cold blooded cold environments hinder him greatly and can be potentially fatal.
• Long range combat can be a bit of a struggle as all he can do is attempt to close the distance or defend himself.
• Being cold-blooded, cold environments and attacks similar to that affect are especially effective against him.
• He is not a good talker, both with a heavy accent of what would be described as a demon trying to speak like a human, and his poor understanding of the english language.

Hunter * Warrior * Nature-Savy * Intimidation

Sexuality: Male
Relationship Status: N/A For now
Personality: Jackal was a proud warrior of the Westari Clan, upholding honor as he fought mercilessly against others of his own race that were not of his tribe. Compared to other Gorgas's though, he was easy to talk to and socialize within his own tribe. He enjoyed hunting animals as a hobby, which sometimes translates over in his fights with more intelligent creatures.
Jackal, since the death of his tribe, has been scarred by the loss, and becoming much more reclusive. He is a creature of few words and only acts when he feels he needs to. But beneath that quiet and patient demeanor, is a thirst for bloodshed, which he will happily inflict upon the monsters that plagues this world.

While he may show off a few times when he gets lost in combat, he is overall a humble warrior, and respects all others who follow a similar path, be it less violent or of another race entirely. While difficult to talk to, once a bond is made he will never betray an ally or a friend, but expects the same devotion from others as well. Should one perform such a dishonor would translate to a rage without mercy.
Habits: Minimal 2

• He has an acquired taste for flesh, particularly racial flesh such as elves, orcs, humans, and other Gorgas. He hides this tendency as he is self conscience of how the others will see it as taboo, and it is almost more of an addiction.
• Prolongued combat can drive him into less of a civil warrior and more of a savage beast, especially when wounded or provoked enough.

Hobbies: He loves to collect gold and other valuables from defeated foes or as rewards for jobs. Additionally, he loves to hunt, mostly wild creatures, but sometimes he tends to hunt more intelligent prey as well. That being said he very much enjoys nature.
Fears:

• Loss, he cannot stand loosing another loved one, should he make one again. Another reason for his reluctant communication. He cannot stand the emotional pain that comes with loss, such things can drive him mad and scar him deep, naturally fearing such a fate and would sooner die then to experience it again.
• Illness. Experiencing his own tribe being wiped out by the Dragonsbane Virus, seeing anyone remotely ill stricken can cause him great worry and dismay. He does not like the idea of dying at anytime other then in combat, especially a slow and painful demise that could make someone so weak and helpless all the while. Part of the reason why he now interacts with the rest of the world as a mercenary is in hopes of finding a cure to the virus that threatens him.
• Winter. The season itself brings out the cold conditions that cold-blooded creatures such as Jackal despise. Cold elements and enviorments discourage him emotionally as well as weakening his vitality overall. Like diseases, he is terrified of the thought of dying in the cold, alone and frozen. Should he ever get caught in such an environment, he will go to extremes just to keep warm.

Likes: 6 minimal

• Extreme temperatures
• Hunting
• Nature
• Soothing Music
• Treasures of any value
• Fighting
• Shed season
• Nightfall (and dark environments)

Dislikes: 6 minimal

• Other Gorgas
• Cold conditions
• Deceit
• Weakness
• Cowardice
• Unholy Abominations

A listing of skills, such as horseback riding, and natural abilities, such as night vision - this also includes any racial edges

• Skill: Close quarters combat; His natural weaponry and durability (Claws, speared tail, fire breath, etc) combined with his brutish strength can easily overpower even monstrous foes. More over, his combat style varies between his moods. In a more calm demeanor he can be quiet skillful with his sword, but in a further enraged state he will forego traditional swordplay for brutish swings and similar tactics, making him hard to predict. His racial strength and size are factors to look into.
• Skill: Hunting; His natural vision (eyes that can glow in the dark) and the strength of his smell from his forked tongue makes him an excellent tracker, and his experience as a younger since a hatchling has given him a talent to stealth in various natural environments despite his monstrous size.
• Skill: Hand Crafting Equipment: With the right materials he can makeshift primitive tools and wares such as tents or stone spears. If having access to metal and molten liquids he can even hand craft various metal weaponry of his design, albeit not as structured or good as more traditional and advanced techniques.
• Skill: Bravery: Even with his fears, he is not afraid of death itself, and in combat such fears would usually only make him fight more aggressively then flee. While this in of itself may result in victory or loss, it is difficult to intimidate him.
• Skill: Wise with Age: Being so old, he has much experience with the natural world and both its wonders and horrors, he a sound mind despite going into a few enraged states here and there, aside from angering him there are few other things that can taint his conscience. Rarely does he act brashly outside of fighting tactics.
• Skill: Protector: Fearing loss, he will be sure that he will be injured before an ally. Sooner he die then someone he is assisting. Allies that are near him should expect him to be a giant shield.
• Fire Breather: As a racial Trait he can breathe jets of flames from his mouth.

Possessions Generally On Person: Clothing, coin purse, money, etc

• Item: Armored Loin Cloth
• Item: Ankle Wrappings
• Item: Wrist Gauntlets
• Item: Dormun, his 8ft long hand-made iron greatsword
• Item: A wrist-shield that is the shape of a narrow rectangle made of iron
• Item: A small chest he straps to his back that holds his personal collection of rare treasures.

Weapons: Personal weapons, no magically enhanced items

• Item:Dormun his 8ft long hand-made iron greatsword. Its great weight and size make it nearly impossible to wield for most, Jackal uses it in a combation of both a sort of heavy club or a slashing tool.
• Item: Shield Two narrow rectangular shields he equips to both wrist guards.

Pack Contents: What do you carry in you pack when traveling

• Item: Gold Currently has a small heap of a 100 copper coins
• Item: An assortment of various raw meats stored with salt preservation, some of it has human origin.
• Item: A handcrafted jug of water made of clay and plant fiber.

Parents: Both parents, Jorm Westari and Lizzari Westari are deceased
Siblings: His brother, Tielray, deceased.
Childhood: All of his tribe, the only people he knew prior, are deceased.
Adulthood: N/A
Special Moments: Peaceful moments, offers or tokens of friendship, the heat of battle.
Current Events: After loosing his tribe, he raised himself in the local wilderness for a while, before eventually stumbling upon a human settlement and after much interaction became a mercenary of sorts, doing various tasks that he deems fit to take in exchange for currency and other valuable rewards. Often resparking his tribal warfare back round, he also sees it as an opportunity to find medical professionals and try to find a cure from them.


Character Quote: "To Serve is Honor, let honor each other."
Theme Song:
Aura Color: Crimson Red
Scent: The residue of consumed victims can be smelled from his very breathe, mixed with burning wood and charcoal.

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Name: Clovis Sackville.
Aliases: He gets called a lot of things, but has no one well-known nickname. He introduces himself to people as Clovis and usually expects to be addressed as such.
Age: In halfling years, he is sixteen. (About ten in human years)
Race/Ethnicty: Clovis is a Lightfoot Halfling. Halflings generally refer to themselves as hobbits.
Place of Origin: Twig Town, near Oldoak in Hannia
Gender: Male
Class/Job: Thief

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Strength: 15
Dexterity: 20
Constitution: 6
Intelligence: 18
Wisdom: 9
Charisma: 13

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Height: 3 feet and an inch
Weight: 22 pounds
Build: Small, even for a halfling, and very skinny, with long slender limbs and a generally rather frail appearance.
Eyes: Hazel
Hair: Brown
Skin Tone: Pale and lightly freckled
Tattoos/Scars/Piercings: A couple assorted scars and birthmarks, but nothing particularly striking.
Day To Day Attire: A green tunic with a white shirt underneath and light brown trousers that come to a bit below his knees. He wears a a leather belt at his waist, attached to which is a small dagger and coinpurse. Like most halflings, he never wears shoes or boots of any kind, finding the coarse hair on his feet sufficient to keep them from freezing off.
Strengths:

• Dexterous
• Stealthy
• Strong for his age and size

Weaknesses:

• Prone to disease
• Argumentative
• Somewhat lacking in the common sense department

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Intelligent * Egotistical * Hotheaded * Cocky

Sexuality: Clovis isn't terribly interested in romance, but when he is, he's mostly attracted to other males.
Relationship Status: Single, though not a virgin.
Personality: Clovis is an adventurous soul, though some see him as a cocky and reckless boy. His friends around the Guild know him as being headstrong and a bit argumentative and hotheaded, but he does have a kind and nurturing streak and has been seen to actively help out the younger street rats around Twig Town.
Clovis is very good at writing and languages. When he was young, he often rejected opportunities to play with the other children in favor of perusing through his father's old collection of books. As he got older, this fascination with literature turned into a love of linguistics. Those who don't know his past often wonder what a boy like him is doing out with the Thieves' Guild when he could be pursuing becoming a scholar of sorts.
While generally rather intelligent and 'book smart', Clovis has a bit of an inflated idea of his own maturity. His ego can often get in the way when interacting with others, enforcing their perception of him as an ostentatious brat.
Clovis is a general optimist and loves a good joke or riddle. Halflings have a reputation as affable creatures, and for the most part Clovis is no different. When not being hot-tempered or pompous, he can be quite a good friend to those who gain his trust and affection.
Living out in the streets a couple years has instilled in him a bit of distrust for other people. While not paranoid, he is always prepared for even his closest friends to turn on him.
Habits:

• Bites his hands, nails and knuckles when nervous. He actually has a few scars from doing this.
• Always signs his papers in backwards lettering

Hobbies: Reading, writing, and occasionally he'll draw or doodle.
Fears:

• Spiders, especially large ones
• Water - he can't swim and large bodies of water like oceans terrify him.
• Being restrained or otherwise unable to move

Likes:

• Food, especially cheese
• Good books
• Music and theatre
• Adventure
• Cats, dogs, and other domestic animals
• Stealing

Dislikes:

• Losing
• Skipping meals or seeing food go to waste
• Being bored
• Being looked down upon or belittled
• Boring people
• The law

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• Skill: Small size (good for sneaking, hiding, dodging, all sorts of things)
• Skill: Archery (Short bows only)
• Skill: Climbing
• Skill: Multilingual (Can speak Elvish on top of his native Halfling tongue and whatever the equivalent of 'common' is)
• Skill: Excellent hearing
• Skill: Performance (Can sing. Most halflings are rather musically inclined)

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Clovis doesn't use magic. He finds it too taxing on the brain.

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Possessions Generally On Person:

• Item: Green tunic, made of some sort of rough, light fabric
• Item: White long-sleeved shirt, made of smoother fabric. Somewhat dirt and grass stained.
• Item: Brown trousers, about knee-length. Made of similar material to the tunic
• Item: Leather belt
• Item: Dark red coinpurse with a drawstring, attached to the belt.
• Item: A selection of lockpicks, kept in the pockets of his trousers.

Weapons:

• Item: Short bow and quiver of 24 arrows
• Item: Dagger

Armor:

• Leather gauntlets

Animals: None.

Pack Contents:

• Item: A week's worth of rations
• Item: A small canteen full of enough water to last him four days
• Item: A long length of rope, about 30-50 feet
• Item: A lantern
• Item: A few rolls of paper and a piece of charcoal to write or draw with
• Item: Thieves' tools. Lockpicks, a bottle of grease, a wrench, etc.

Magical Items:

• Item: None. Magical items tend to be on the expensive side and the good ones are carefully guarded and hard to steal, so naturally Clovis doesn't have any to speak of.

Potions:

• Item: Small healing potion (5)

Creation Materials:

• Item: None. Clovis is neither an alchemist nor a potion maker.

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Parents: His mother, Eliza Sackville, is deceased. She died giving birth to his younger sister. Clovis was only 2 Halfling years old at the time and doesn't have many memories of her. His father, Ulric Sackville, always had a good relationship with all his children. When he died of disease when Clovis was 10 Halfling years, he and his siblings were grieved beyond imagination.
Siblings: All in all, Clovis originally had four older brothers and a younger sister. The sister and his second-oldest brother are dead of the same illness that took his father. Their names are Talliver, Flynn (deceased), Conric, Quince and Lena (deceased). Quince and Clovis fought a lot as children, but he had a pretty good relationship with his other four siblings. Talliver went off to sea and is now a successful pirate captain, Flynn was a blacksmith's apprentice before his death, Conric and Quince own a tailor shop together, and Lena had no profession before her death as she died at only 8 Halfling years old.
Childhood: Clovis was born one Winter afternoon. He was a bit premature, but was able to survive infancy with a little help from the local healers. His family already consisted of four little boys. At the time of his birth, Talliver was 6 hobbit years old, Flynn was 4, and the twins Conric and Quince were 2. The first year or so of Clovis's life was not very eventful, just a usually Halfling baby life of crawling around and doing baby things. Then, about a Halfling year and a half later, his mother was expecting again. The pregnancy was normal, but there were severe complications during the birth of the baby girl and his mother ended up dying of infection the next day. Clovis, being only two years old at the time, didn't have many collected memories of his mother. Sometimes, if he thinks about it deeply enough, he can sort of remember the sound of her voice a little bit, but there was never a proper portrait painted of her. His father's quick sketches are the only hint he has as to what she might have looked like.
The years went by and Clovis grew up into a mischievous and funloving boy who also happened to have a passion for reading. While he enjoyed playing outside with his siblings, the best moments of his childhood were spent curled up in his father's lap with an old book of mythical tales.
Then, when he hit the age of ten, a plague swept through Twig town. They all got sick, and only Talliver truly recovered. His father, sister and second oldest brother died, and Clovis and the twins were left sickly and weak and missing their father.
Left as orphans, Talliver went out to sea as a cabin boy on a voyage, never to return. Word is he became a pirate captain and is doing very well indeed. The younger three were sent to an orphanage outside of Twig Town, where Conric and Quince decided to stay until they were old enough to get their professions. Clovis, however, craved adventure and decided to run away.
He lived on the streets for a year, teaching himself how to steal and pick locks and pockets before the Thieves' Guild took him in.
Adulthood: Technically speaking, Clovis is not quite yet an adult.
Special Moments: He has fond memories of perusing his father's library.
Current Events: Still working with the Thieve's Guild but mostly doing his own tasks, Clovis is rather enjoying the life he leads. But he's running low on money, and hearing the tales of what his brother's been up to he's been eager to try mercenary work. So he's off to do some jobs for the vigilants, thinking 'how hard could it be to kill a few monsters'?

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Character Quote: "Take what you can - Give nothing back!"
Theme Song: Up is Down - Pirates of the Caribbean: At World's End soundtrack
Aura Color: A sharp, alert shade of blue
Scent: Earthy, like dead autumn leaves.
Anything Else:

Name:Jack Goldart
Aliases: Gold Heart/Sunshine
Age:22
Race/Ethnicty:Human
Place of Origin:Havarth
Gender:Male
Class/Job:Street Gangster/Rouge fighter



Strength:10
Dexterity:20
Constitution:10
Intelligence:10
Wisdom:5
Charisma:20


Height:5'10"
Weight:170
Build:Skinny
Eyes:Gold
Hair:Bleach Blonde
Skin Tone:Pale
Tattoos/Scars/Piercings:A litter of scars paint his body arms and legs, due to some unfortunate events.
Day To Day Attire: Thick Pants and shirt under a black Tunic. Fur cloak wore on occasion. Usually leather boots keep his feet warm.
Strengths: Max of 3

• Skilled in the art of quick dirty fighting.
• Extremely Acrobatic. Used to make money when times are rough or to get out of sticky situations.
• A sharp tongue make most problems go away with just a few words

Weaknesses: Minimal of 3

• Extremely lazy. Making him less than willing to do really anything that wasn't necessary.
• A short temper usually drop's him in a bad situation
• When worse comes to worst, Jack is always quick to run. A honorable man would call him a coward.

Urchin* Thief* Kind Heart* Drunk

Sexuality:Straight
Relationship Status:Single
Personality:
Jack has a heart of gold...but the mind of a street Urchin. While having no parents, he was raised poor and saw how people would treat him and his little sister. His sister was starving and only one thing he could do, steal his wealth. To him a few coins from the more wealthy seem like nothing to keep his family alive and even helping some of other misfortune children of his town. This eventually became an obsession and he loved the thrill of swindling some unsuspecting white color, regardless if he needed the money or not. While he became somewhat of a robin hood, it eventually turned him into nothing more than a rude, unforgiving crook.

While if you would know him on a personal level, Jack is the kind of man who loved a breast in one hand and ale in the other. A carefree kind of individual who loved nothing more than a good joke or tavern song. While his criminal side is hard to see by others, his sister could always see past the act. While still a good man for the most part, his cruelty to the more 'fortunate' individuals calls his morals and honor in to question.

Habits:

• Being drunk
• Picking fights he has no hope of winning

Hobbies: Animal Trapping
Fears:

• Large Crowds
• Being Naked
• Any humanoid none human race

Likes: 6 minimal

• Birds
• Gold
• Archery
• Jokes
• Alcohol
• Weapons

Dislikes: 6 minimal

• Snakes
• Crowds
• Tight spaces
• Loud noises
• Military
• Rich People

• Skill: Great aim
• Skill: Acrobatics
• Skill: Quick thinker
• Skill: Knife Fighting
• Skill: Diplomacy
• Skill: Sneaking

Possessions Generally On Person:

• Item: Bow String
• Item: Quiver set
• Item: Coin purse
• Item: Rope

Weapons: Personal weapons, no magically enhanced items

• Item: Wide Broadhead Dagger
• Item: Bow and Arrows
• Item: Throwing Knives

Armor: Base armor only, no magically enhanced items

• Item: Leather Breast armor
• Item: Leather Shoulder Pauldrons
• Item: Tin Grieves
• Item: Tin Shin Guards

Parents: Both dead.
Siblings: A little sister currently working at a local Tavern. Jack has been trying to raise her, but it hard its been hard for both without parents.

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Name: Sakaala
Aliases: Referring to herself as "Sakaala", it is unknown what her name truly is, but there exists reason enough to believe that her assumed name has apparent symbolism, most likely only amongst those familiar to her fallen people - a culture who placed great value in the meaning of all things, most importantly those belonging to themselves. For those in the know of obscure and arcane history of other kinds, she is "the finality" or more simply "the last (whole) one", a sobering title that is not only accurate but more than anything most disheartening.
Age: Worn by the ravages of time and life, the fading of her pelt and wiriness of her whiskers suggests the savage's race is older than her physique lets on. It is uncertain exactly how her lot aged and progressed, but one can assume Sakaala's age is well into her adulthood and edging ever closer to its twilight phase.
Race: Half Beast, or some mingling of man and beast. She closely resembles the terrible lions of the coldlands, having robust size, muscle and scale to lend some confirmation of such suspicions. It is however, yet of debate as to the origins of half beasts; beings crafted by the work of primal gods of old or the actual mingling of a man and an animal's blood from an ancient ritual long since lost. All the same, half beasts are unquestionably "monstrous" beings, reviled and loathed in many civilized places where they are portrayed as menaces in the mythology that surrounds - seen as a frightening and beastly perversion of the worst aspects of barbaric society. They were rumored to stalk and devour those who dared too deep into the cold or dark woods, but exist now as little more than rare stories told in taverns by drunkard men about faraway lands where even the brave shouldn't delve.
Place of Origin: The Coldwood is a region far and well removed from any shred of society, a forgotten secret to the east and buried in aptly named forests. Little evidence of its existence as any form of organized people exists today and that which does in permanent stone structure perhaps belonged not at all to them to begin with; the rest of the history of the Coldwood otherwise lies in now buried ash. It sees just as few outsiders to this day, being little more than uncharted wilderness rife with legendary danger.
Gender: Female, as there exists no question to the beastly lady's gender. What overt feminine tones she exhibits do little to inhibit her inherent ability for conflict, revealing that perhaps her people relied upon its women as warriors and hunters; a truth only the insightful or studious might discern.
Occupation: Now a wayward warrior-mage, Sakaala has survived the many passing years as a mercenary in the company of those that would keep her. While neither priest or wizard, she draws up from a well of inherent supernatural power within as sorcerous might and wields it with as much ferocity and finesse as any given weapon.

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Strength: 16
Dexterity: 13
Constitution: 15
Intelligence: 10
Wisdom: 15
Charisma: 6

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Height: Of approximately 23 hands.
Weight: Of approximately 35 stones.
Build: While far from perhaps what she was in her prime, Sakaala is not lacking in her physique as many mortal arcanists often suffer ridicule and insult for. Athletic despite all that she has so stalwartly endured, she bears the burdens of both prior motherhood and a life waged at mortal risk upon her flesh. Yet, her towering build and still supple muscle are right indicators that she is anything but feeble; a huntress still and one far from deficient in experience.
Eyes: Golden, the right of which is pallid, being both milky and blind from obvious injury.
Pelt: Faded, of a greying tawny that had been truly faint gold.
Tattoos/Scars/Piercings: Decorated to the point of blindness in healed scars about her face, one of Sakaala's eyes remains disabled by old, incurable wounds to this day, the same of which has left a lasting gash to her face; even bits of the ear on the side of the blinded eye are tattered, even pocked by burns. Her once strong arm is now rendered former, acting mostly limp and lame, capable of movement only by sheer force of will in the same vein just as she would conjure magic into reality. What other wounding she endured is concealed, but if visible it would display her survival of other injuries that would claim the lives of lesser men.
Day to Day Attire: Sakaala ornaments herself in the trappings of a mercenary, albeit one quite unlike any other. She bears upon her breast a once polished set of elven plate that has become quite dulled with age, perhaps made of elder techniques and metals lost to newer smiths for the armor remains little worse for wear. Wisely she armors the weaker of her two arms, that one mostly disabled and numb, finishing it in a pauldron, bracer and fingerless leather glove. Underneath her protective, armored shroud, she dresses herself in a set of now tattered, washed out ebon robes, worn loose in the free arm and rolled on the other. The tail of such a piece tells of violent stories past, torn open and burned, the type of decoration one would consider a trophy in sort.

About her neck hangs a sobering reminder, as does the wide, dense leather belt she bears at her waist which supports two large knives secured at the thigh. A traditional item of a now lost people, the decorated belt and its careful stitching exist as maybe the only relics of her former life she still possesses. They are tribal relics, perhaps known only in origin to Sakaala and scholars who seek out forgotten eras, pursuing tall tales that in some cases prove eerily true.

Of her true arms she caries a ceremonial elven sword, a weapon not likely to have belonged to her and which thrums slightly when drawn from its sheathless resting place upon her back. While not a weapon sized for her, its unique balance to favor an elven wielder in their grace and the sheer immensity of her size allow her to fight yet with it in only a hand, moving like water between and through foes, striking down those caught within horrible reach. Albeit made of the same strange alloy as her chestplate, the sword remains remarkably polished and wholly unmarred even without any attending.
Strengths:

• Encompassing Insightfulness; the aging leonine woman is far from uninitiated to the world. Cunning and intuitive, even her lack of formal education dampens her understanding of anything little. She is of the kind who carefully maneuvers both spell and sword, deed and word. The wiles of men and world are challenges only at their greatest in the social arena where her damaged flesh and fearsome reputation precede her voice.
• Monstrous Being; a being of two bloods, she is gifted with traits that few men ever come to know, oft those physical, almost as if to spite her disability. Rarer still, the latent magic within her spirit makes her a wielder of powers mostly unknown.
• Mystically Gifted; what she lacks in her now twisted body she has gained many fold in magic. While not the greatest of swordsmen or mages, she wields both with natural ease and has come to blend them with nearly no effort.

Weaknesses:

• Disfiguring Scarification; she needed no aid in running cold the blood of mortals upon sight, but her long healed injuries exasperate the issue only more.
• Monstrous Being; it is true without doubt she cannot always go peacefully where others tread without care, but that is not without reason... some rumors of monsters are true, after all.
• Physical Disabilities; for all her blessings in strength, constitution and agility compared to common men, little can be done to wholly salvage a visionless eye and a hobbled arm.

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Fierce * Mystical * Seasoned * Thoughtful

Sexuality: Bisexual, while not disinterested in the prospect of love or lust regardless of gender, having bore several children previously, she has remained without true companionship since she was rendered widowed many years time ago.
Relationship Status: Widowed, with her mate and offspring slaughtered in the name of cruel "justice". A deep place of hurt resides within her... one preferred as a memory not relived, but the suffering can only be dulled so much even if forgotten.
Personality: Sakaala exists within a void of mysticism and myth, being both an icon of a dead people and an even more dead identity. The fierceness associated with those once like her is unmatched, for she is of that same caliber capable of reacting on relentless instinct when need be, tempered only by worldly wisdom and physical limitations. She remains willfully calm, thoughtful and perhaps even too abstinent from any sworn involvements or promises made to or for mortals. When she does speak or act, she does so with all the authority and regality of a wild queen, posing as assumed importance; at worst patronizing in her display for within her eyes she does know best, or so she would assume. Neither aloof nor coddling, she thinks of most as little more than children, fumbling ignorantly through life and to their blind deaths. While she can be verbally scornful, she prefers the method of a watchful, disapproving mother or the raw violence she can promise on whim - whichever proves more valid.

Born and raised a huntress, made warrior only later in life, all challenges are a pursuit to her. Tasks unfinished are difficult to let go and the matters she believes must be attended to in due time are not left to rot away. Patient, owing to this and the nature of her coming to understand magic, she tends to betray her true feelings not through spoken word but instead the subtlest unconscious gestures of her animal-esque body.
Habits:

• Cleanliness, as fitting for one who in a way views herself as primal nobility, she strives to remain clean even if filthy.
• Vigilance, either rightfully placed from horrors recalled or experience won in coins for lives, she is distrusting, watchful and oft sleepless.

Hobbies: Spellcraft, while the nature of her mystical ability is carefully concealed, she takes great joy in understanding the primal forces of magic as a pleasure few mortal mages will ever understand. Personal and connected to her at her fibers of existence, to cast magic is again to recall what life can be like.

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Lore: Hunter, warrior, arcanist - over the span of a lifetime one has many varied roles that they might confront, but few ever live them so fully as to explore them in their entirety. Sakaala however, has lived a life in full.

She says nothing of her younger days, but is undeniably left with the signs of bitter wounds past, most notably the blindness of her right eye and blatant lameness of the right arm, she has endured trials no one, be them man or beast, should be forced to confront alone. Born an exceptional huntress but appointed a warrior, she served loyally on behalf of her scarce peoples keeping bleak threats beyond, those that few men safe in cities suffer, at bay. Although she, as with select others among her lot, served with little conflict against curious men, not all were so accepting of their defeats; many hearts became vengeful, hateful... spiteful. The matters became of personal vendetta in the bloodiest of sorts and ill plots under noble guises were born. It was as result of this she was forced to fight to the last beside those who were her sisters on an ever losing front of all sides, but even for her inborn might she too was felled. Struck above the breast, an arrow deep and a sword plunged deeper, she was brutally scarred by hunters' blades at the cost of arm and eye, left to be consumed by flame at the hands of the torches brought by those same souls. How she survived is either proof of divine power or the raw might that had laid dormant within her force of personality.

She speaks nothing of her children, but her eyes betray the sobering reality that she was stripped of them, violently; the grim ornaments of her necklace are perhaps all that remains of her connection with them, torn from the grasp of a man that likely procured them as trophies won from "vile monsters". It is this, surviving such atrocity, that surely turned her to things most men believe left better unknown - the primal powers unknown and arts arcane. For one reason or another, perhaps because she is not of mortal stock, she acquired the capacity to wield mysticism as any other weapon, just as one would an axe, bow or spear. She made her very body, and even her sword, its conduit in this spiraling and obsessive embrace; almost a direct extension of herself, that which transcended her age and fed upon heartfelt pains.

For years she wandered alone or in company, taking opportunity to meet out justice for the slaughter she and her deceased others endured whenever the occasion arose; sellswords like those she associated with, more than pleased to take the coin of even shadier men, obliged their strange cohort. She existed among them as an oddity, a point of curiosity and fear, remaining until they disbanded or laid defeated. Not proud of what it was she did, her days of revenge long ended and she vanished for years on end, enduring status as a myth and little more - just as her people have faded to.
Motivations: The ideology of the Vigilants has become a subject of personal importance to Sakaala. If men truly are to wage war against forces of evil, pure ones and not those perceived or fought for wealth, honor or prestige alone, then there is no other better than her to mentor them. Few have suffered as she has and fewer yet have fallen so far from great places to have once aspired as her. It is a matter of closure and redemption, to pay for her own crimes she enacted in her years of bloody trade before life comes to its inevitable end and she is returned to the very earth that nourished her.

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Aura: Sakaala radiates a pale, stable corona that manifests as a font of living magic. Shimmering as one draws closer, identifying its thorough internalization throughout, it is more easily viewed at a distance than that of creatures with no magical inclination and thus most mortals.
Scent: Unmistakable by virtue of her fabled leonine origin, she is an almost earthy, faintly musky scent quite clean and refined. Its subtlety might at most be tinged with notes of sage, mint or lavender and anointing oils, or concealed by smoke of old fires and far wilderness reaches.
Other: _Vardenvall

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Name:Allina Vishana Na’Shirak
Aliases:Alli, Vish
Age:24
Race/Ethnicty: Half-orc
Place of Origin:Klosterus
Gender:Female
Class/Job:Mage/Vigilant

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Though we will not be rolling dice for feats, this will give a base line to run off of for your character. Max for any stat is 20, average is 10. You have 75 stat point to assign between the six stats.

Strength:7
Dexterity:14
Constitution:8
Intelligence:18
Wisdom:16
Charisma:12

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Height:5’6
Weight: 165lbs
Build: Alli is small woman, at least in the terms of an orc, and this is shown well in her lack of physical strength and bulk. Her frame is more compact and the muscles she has are small and kept close to her body.
Eyes: Purple
Hair:Black
Skin Tone: Pale-grey white.
Tattoos/Scars/Piercings:Alli has various scars on her body, though most are covered by her clothing. The most noticeable and well seen scars are the ones on her face placed at her forehead and cutting down into her brow of her left eye, across her nose on the left side, on her left cheek and following the down to her lip, and another on her right cheek following down to her chin. Her back is a singular tattoo depicting the history of her Father’s clan.
Day To Day Attire: Alli wears a plain, woven flax shirt most days, covering it with a jacket made from ox leather given to her by her Father. She often wears a necklace of animal teeth colored with dyes. A large purple one is of a tiger tooth which her Father collected.
Strengths:

• Intelligent
• Quick Learner
• Literacy

Weaknesses:

• Weak
• Prone to illness
• Clumsy

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Optimistic * Brilliant * Compassionate * Wary

Sexuality: Though of age and, if she were born in a tribe, likely to have been married off by now, Alli is unsure of what her sexuality is.
Relationship Status:Single
Personality:
Habits:

• Alli brushes her hair practically daily.
• She obsessively cleans her jacket when nervous.

Hobbies: During her spare time, Alli ties together a small string and unties it as a form of focus training.
Fears:

• Alli is deeply afraid of crowds, having grown up in a tightly packed slum that always felt as if there was never enough room to breathe.
• Her fear of heights has always made her quite unlike her Father who loved to climb trees.
• Oddly enough, Alli has a fear of other Orcs. Her Father’s stories of bloodshed while he was part of a tribe certainly didn’t help the fear.

Likes:

• Learning
• Rain
• Overcast Days
• Nature
• Magic
• New Knowledge

Dislikes:

• Racists
• Ignorance
• Mercenaries
• Nobles
• Cities
• Crowds

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A listing of skills, such as horseback riding, and natural abilities, such as night vision - this also includes any racial edges

Skill: Spellcrafting

• Alli has an inherent connection and understanding of how magic works due to her teachings by the elves of Klosterus and, as such, can create a new way of using magic after enough work.

Skill: Half-Breed

• Due to her nature as a Half-Breed, Alli gets a mixture of good and bad from her Parents. Though she lost the natural muscle of her Father, she gained the connection to magic that her mother had. Though her body is prone to illnesses affecting both Orcs and Humans, her eyes are sharp like an Orc’s.

Skill: Faster and Faster

• As per her Father’s own words, Orcs fight in two ways; they hit hard and are slow or hit fast and are weaker. Alli was trained to fight faster due to her lack of strength and, as such, is use to using her speed in combat against the opponent and working into both combat with her dagger and quarterstaff as well as her magic.

Skill: One With Nature

• If anything stuck with Alli after her training with the Elves in Klosterus, it was the connection with nature she developed. It has allowed her to remain calm and brought her closer to nature than any other Orc would have been, naturally. As such, she is hesitant to harm any creature of nature, including people, as they too are connected to nature.

Skill: Alchemy

• An art made by finding the properties of plants which can help people. Nowadays, it is used to make potions but Alli is one of the few who still know the art of making powders and herb mixtures for healing purposes. Poultices are specifically unique to this group due to their ability to mix the effects of potions and mixtures alike.

Skill: Knowledge of Elven, Orcish, and Human

• Klosterus was a diverse place and Alli always adventurous. There was much she learned from the people living in the refugee city and, as such, she has knowledge pertaining to the Orcs, Elves, and Humans that are almost exclusive to them alone. She learned of their histories and languages, though her Elven is far from proper.

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A listing of spells, their descriptions - casting times, elements needed to cast, expected damage, any draw packs to casting

• Spell: Fire Snake- Using a source of fire, or simply creating it by herself, Alli can move fire through the air as if it were snake and control its movement. The maximum distance from her it can travel is around three meters. Unfortunately, it drains her rather quickly if she uses it for too long or too much.
• Spell: Push- Alli simply puts energy into the air in a singular direction to launch it at an enemy. It isn’t very draining.
• Spell: Rune of Warding- Alli draws a rune on a surface, weather in the ground or a tree, and can replicate the rune in up to seven different areas. The area between the runes will alert her if any person or animal has passed through it, allowing her to know when someone is approaching. Only works if the subsequent rune is within two meters of the other.
• Spell: Boulder Heave- Alli uses a large portion of her focus to pull a large chunk of ground up and launch it at an opponent. Can only be performed a few times every day.
• Spell: Fireball- A simple fireball. Isn’t very draining and can be used multiple times every day.
• Spell: Fire Rune- By drawing the rune on an item, Alli can cause it to burst into flames by putting her focus into it.

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Possessions Generally On Person:

• Item: A coin purse containing a few silver coins, mostly just copper coins though.
• Item: A set of clothing in case she needs to change.
• Item: A small pack for containing her supplies.
• Item: A 1 liter water canteen

Weapons: Personal weapons, no magically enhanced items

• Item: A dagger made from steel with a handle of bone
• Item: A quarterstaff

Armor: Base armor only, no magically enhanced items

• Item: A long leather jacket made from bear pelt.
• Item: A leather chestplate
• Item: A pair of leather gloves
• Item: Leather and mail plated greaves

Animals:

• Animal: None

Pack Contents:

• Item: A bed roll made from wolf pelts
• Item: Flint and tinder
• Item: A cloak made from deer hide
• Item: A few changes of clothes
• Item: About a foot of rope
• Item: A few weeks worth of rations

Magical Items:

• Item: None, yet.

Potions:

• Item: Medicinal Herb mixture(x5)- A handmade mixture of herbs for general healing. Unlike potions the effect is slower but more natural and considered an art form by the Elves.
• Item: Healing Potion- Even though it goes against what she was taught, Alli can’t deny that the magical properties of the ‘Healing potion’ are very effective.
• Item: Focus Powder(x5)- Similar to a Focus potion, the Focus powder is a slower effect that extends the ability of Alli to cast magic. It tastes bitter and only Alli really knows what goes into it.

Creation Materials:

• Item: A small satchel of Herbs and Roots.
• Item: A mortar and pestle kept in a small bag.
• Item: Two empty vials
• Item: Twenty pieces of paper that are easy to fold
• Item: Twenty small ties made from twine

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Parents: Her Father, Roshak Na’Shirak, was a former member of the Warthorn tribe before he moved to Klosterus with his human lover, Yullia Courina. Though Roshak is alive, Yullia died giving birth to Alli. Roshak has been doting of his daughter since then and was hesitant to see her off.
Siblings: None, Alli was an only child.
Childhood: Though Alli’s early life was uneventful, it certainly was different from the life her Father had. Growing up in Klosterus, the capital of the nation of refugee Elves from the west, gave her an insight into the world that a tribal orc would have never gotten and a human would never have understood. She had spent her summers with her Father, learning the way of her people and how to hunt, while her Winters were spent with the Elves who taught her of the Way of the Earth and showed her how to grow more attuned to the flow of the world.
Adulthood: Alli’s adulthood was quite a bit more eventful than her childhood, having reached age at sixteen and celebrated it with her Father by going on a hunt. They spent nearly two weeks in the wilderness, hunting a large bear which had been harassing nearby encampments of refugees. It was the first time she had seriously seen her Father in all his furious bloodlust, the same bloodlust she had failed to inherit from him due to her human half. She could barely even bring herself to kill the creature with the knife he had made specifically for her. She has since worn one of the canines, colored purple, on a necklace.
Special Moments: Few moments have stood out more in Alli’s mind more than the excitement of her Father learning that her daughter had the capability to perform magic. He had known that his child would not be able to fight like a true orc in head-on combat and Alli knowing magic meant that he wouldn’t have to worry for her safety. Alli herself was surprised when the Elves of her city celebrated the momentous occasion by offering to teach her as much as possible and throwing a party.
Current Events: As per the norm for Orcs, even those born outside of a Tribe, Alli has set off to prove herself and see the world. It is considered an occasion few come back from the same and it often lets the Orcs learn of the way the world has gone by hearing from those who are not part of their Tribe. Alli has set off with a promise to her Father that she would return in ten years, heading for the city of Stockton first with a caravan.

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Character Quote: Something they say a lot or live by
Theme Song:
Aura Color:A calm purple with a shimmer edge of blue and corona of violet.
Scent:Berries and orchids, a smell coming from the few items she keeps in her pouch to make medicinal herbs.
Anything Else:

Name: Úða Níðingsson (OO-tha KNEE-thing-sin) the Tamed, Son of the Disgraced.
Age: Early to mid thirties
Race/Ethnicty: White
Place of Origin: Hergen Town
Gender: Male
Class/Job: Huskarl

Though we will not be rolling dice for feats, this will give a base line to run off of for your character. Max for any stat is 20, average is 10. You have 75 stat point to assign between the six stats.

Strength: 17
Dexterity: 17
Constitution: 17
Intelligence: 8
Wisdom: 13
Charisma: 3


Height: 5'7"
Weight: 180ibs
Build: Muscular
Eyes: Blue
Hair: Black

Loyal * Shy * Humble

Sexuality: Straight
Relationship Status: Married with a daughter
Personality: He's a gentle fellow, and almost excessively sensitive to criticism, vitriol, and contempt in general. He's rather shy and tends to make few friends but those he does consider his friends have earned his undying loyalty and trust. The family man through and through, they are the most important things to him in his life, even more so than his best friend, the Thegn. He would do anything to protect them.
Hobbies: Falcon taming, swimming in armour, playing with his daughter.

A listing of skills, such as horseback riding, and natural abilities, such as night vision - this also includes any racial edges

• Skill: Horseback Riding.
• Skill: Falcon Taming. His pet falcon, Hjörrveðr, often hunts for their family's food.
• Skill: Swimming. A hobby and an exercise, Úða swims with his armor in the water out by the longboats.
• Skill: Warrior. In order to survive as a Huskarl, one needs to have the capability to fight.

Weapons: Personal weapons, no magically enhanced items

• Item: Single-handed battle-axe
• Item: Steel Round Shield
• Item: Seax. A small knife.

Armor: Base armor only, no magically enhanced items

• Item: Gambeson
• Item: Byrnie
• Item: Shirt of leather lamellar

Animals: He has a trained Falcon named Hjörrveðr (Hyor-veth)for a pet.



Parents: Úða knew his mother, and he loved her dearly. She taught him some of the more noble things in life, something his father was incapable of doing. His father was a disgrace to their name, and was absent for long parts of Úða's childhood. Though his mother has passed, his father still lives. Úða still loves his father, although his father is a disgrace to their family.
Siblings: None
Childhood: Spent mostly with his mother and his best friend, who would soon become Thegn. This friendship would lead to his eventual becoming of Huskarl.
Adulthood: He's spent most of his adult life guarding the townspeople from danger, solving whatever problems that words can't solve.

Anything Else: _Vardenvall