[hider=Evelyn Keove]
Name: Evelyn Keove 

Age: 26 (Appears barely 20.) 

Gender: Female

Race: Wood Elf

Weapons:
-- An elvish sword at the side of her hip, an ornate conduit of magic, the blade is able to adapt and take on characteristics of any type of destructive magic the wielder so chooses.  

Equipment:
-- Black and red Mage robes fitted to compliment the body, the edges of the hood and sleeves are embroidered in golden arcane symbols. Observing at the embroidery invokes a strange sense of magic lust. 
-- Leather belt with pouches.
-- Black slippers. 

Appearance: 
Evelyn didn't take on any characteristics of her human mother. She looks elf, through and through. Her hair is a feathery silver, parted at the side. She layers it short, ends barely meeting her collar bone. Grey eyes, pointed ears, smooth and pale skin. Her smile can light up a room. Elves don't need a lot of muscle to be powerful, such a Evelyn's case. She's slender, maybe a bit short for an elf. There are old scars on her wrists, reminding her of times she drowned in her sadness. 

Personality: 
Evelyn has an insatiable curiosity and a great love for uncovering secrets. Any kind of secret, be it gossip, royal scandal, or ancient teachings hidden deep within a cave. She is well-educated, and personally prefers speaking of secrets and ideas as opposed to other menial people. She is interested in power, not weakness. Being a great lover of beauty and magic, Evelyn loves finding enchanted jewels most. 

Evelyn has a natural knack for going with the flow of conversation, she can be very charming. But that sweet side of hers can quickly reverse to her no-shit attitude, and in that way she can be very condescending since its usually stupidity that turns her bi-polar. Her apathy can be very strong occasionally. She never intentionally makes friends, but if someone is in her company long enough she finds they grow a unique bond. 

Background:
Born to an elven father and human mother, Evelyn started life in strange circumstances. Magic had brought her parents together, and they abandoned their old lives in the name of love. Marriage between races wasn't common at all, and the townsfolk loved to talk. Their family didn't venture out much until Evelyn's mother passed away from sickness. To lighten the grieving heart of his daughter, Ilrune showed her his old books of lost treasures deep underground, of legendary creatures across the sea, and the history of Ravenfell. He gave his private collection of spell books, teaching her how to read it once, and remember it forever in a Mind Palace. After a taste of knowledge, Evelyn knew she couldn't stop there.

As soon as she could, Evelyn traveled abroad, searching for the secrets of the land. She did contracts for the Elven leaders around the kingdom, uncovering secrets deep in tombs and abandoned structures hidden in their forests. When war struck the Elven coastline, Evelyn was conscripted as a Battle Mage. The battle that made her skills more known was on the Reliene Coast, where she brought a dragon to intimidate the Orcs and put them down for good. After that fight, the Orcs didn't bother them anymore. 

Money ran thin, so she turned to the Thieves Guilds hidden among the sewers of Ravenfell's great kingdoms. They taught her how to blend in, how to wield blades, how to speak. In return, she completed the jobs they offered. 

The first time she killed someone, it was simply a case of 'wrong place, wrong time'. A vat of mead needed to be poisoned before the town officials arrived. The plan was to put the meadery out of business so another company could gain profit from the monopoly. Evelyn had successfully snuck in, poisoned the tank, and was about to leave when the owner himself came down the steps. Before he could call the guards, she incinerated him on the spot. It was the first time she ever set fire to a living being with magic. The rush was intoxicating, but seeing the charred remains of his body made her vomit. 

She continued her adventures across the land, fancying herself an explorer, a collector, and a big-time money-maker when Kings found interest in old swords linked to their lineage. This went on for many years. [i](This is the time where our story takes place, Wrens.)[/i]

Seeking a better life and a more permanent home, Evelyn ventured to Arthroyeaux. The Court Mage had recently passed away, and she leapt at the opportunity. She requested an audience, and was soon before the King and his court. Evelyn claimed she was a noble who had traveled great lengths to serve His Majesty, and she told him of her heroic tales in magic, war, legends and ancient relics. 

Ten years after the passing of the Queen, King Vertreaux made Evelyn his new Court Mage, and she served happily until he too, passed away. Somehow, along the way, another one of the nobles of the court found out Evelyn's true past. They blackmailed her  into working strings of the crime empire in Arthroyeaux, and she was right back in her old life of deceit and underground power-struggles. She didn't loathe this turn of events -- she missed it. The thrill of inspiring fear in those who would cut into the kingdom's profit  was something she loved terribly. Destroying the lives of strangers, however, sank heavy in her mind. She rationalized that her actions helped His Majesty. Of course, if he ever knew her treachery she'd be hanged. 

At the change of Kings, Evelyn had her hand in who was chosen next, bribing individuals of the court for their cooperation. When the former King wrote his will, she advised on DuRant, saying he'd lead the people right. Her true reasons she kept to herself. It had taken her a while to unravel this secret -- the noble who blackmailed her wanted DuRant in by any means. He was close associates with someone, and it was they who found the information of her past. She had yet to identify the true mastermind, but it would only be a matter of time. 

When the court was reformed, Evelyn was one of the few who stayed, not just by coincidence. 

Skills:
-- Magic (Destruction and Restoration she's an expert, knows a few spells of the other classes.) 
-- Knowledge (Has a Mind Palace, a visual database of information in her head.) 
-- Swordplay 

Traits:
-- Keen senses.
-- Elven stamina. 
-- Curiosity 

Magic:

Destruction:
-- Firebolt
-- Flames 
-- Chain Lightning 
-- Sparks (Can induce temporary paralysis.)
-- Ice Spikes
-- Frost

Restoration:
-- Healing Hands
-- Lesser Ward

Mysticism:
-- Clairvoyance (Can find anyone.)

Alteration:
-- Candlelight

[Plus other menial spells.]
[/hider]
[hr]
[hider=Mattien Arior]
Name: Mattien Arior

Age: 24

Gender: Male

Appearance: Mattien is a huge, colossal Breton standing at 6'3 with a warrior's build and thick muscles. His pale skin is marred by small scars he's gotten from his past contracts. His long, luscious blond hair ends at his shoulders and is something he's very proud of, he always keeps it as maintained as he can. He wears a steel armor chest plate, but keeps his arms bare. Steel protects his legs too. On his back he carries a huge, black mace that's covered in sharp spikes at the tip. 

Personality: Matt lives for the moment, he enjoys the subtle changes around him and has an affinity to nature. Enjoying the way of the Wandering Mercenary, Matt puts his entire being into anything he does, be it protecting his charge, walking for days across the land, or getting hammered at the taverns. He has a great love of gold, so as long as the money flows he's a happy camper. He has a good set of values, doesn't take others bullshit, and prefers action just as much as thought. Maybe even more. However, in conversation he can be very blunt, very honest. He doesn't like beating around the bush. Death does not phase him. 

Background: Being the son of a poor farmer, Matt grew up always looking beyond their fence, always wanting more than to just toil in the fields. He wanted to explore, he wanted real money, and he wanted chicks to recognize him as something great. So, at a young age he left home and traveled abroad.

He was using a simple iron sword before stumbling upon a cave. In the deep recesses of this cave, past the monsters and night walkers that infested it, Matt found an altar. Upon the alter was a black mace made of jagged yet elegant design. When he touched it the god of that mace awoke, and demanded his servitude in exchange for using the mace. He called himself Ra-shin, a god of power and fear. When Matt agreed, the god also gave him an understanding of magic.

Instantly more powerful with these new gifts, Matt continued his journey, doing little things for his god here and there (like killing unbelievers and those who would desecrate Ra-shin's altar.) Eventually he went back to his home town, Bastille. He was taking a short break from the road when he saw Evelyn's poster. 
[/hider]