Name: Amelia Thorne
Title: Queen-Regent of Thorne, Princess, Acting Knight-Commander of the Holy Paladin Order
Race: Hume
Job: Paladin
Age: 24
Gender: Female
Warrior of Light?: No

---

Physical Features:

Roughly five-foot-eight, give or take an inch. Amelia has an athletic build worthy a knight, though she is a bit smaller than she'd like. Her skin is rather fair, splotched red on her cheeks and across her nose. A light smattering of freckles covers her face and upper torso. She has the bright blue eyes attributed to the majority of the Thorne royal family. Her golden, wavy hair tumbles down to just about the mid of her back. Should she expect to go into battle, however, Amelia will either braid it into a tight rope or pull it up as tight as she can.

Much to her poor mother's dismay, Amelia does have a number of scars. One of which was a fairly deep cut starting from just under her lip on the left side and running down vertically to her chin. That one has since healed, but the off-color line remains. Another runs horizontal across her left check back towards her ear. And while she may have quite a few more, it's not as likely for people to see those.

Clothing/Armor/Weapons:

Amelia isn't one for the formalities normally associated with her position. As such, her choice in clothing is a bit...casual. When not heading off to war or to some formal event, Amelia is content in just a pair of nondescript trousers and a roomy shirt. She's prefers lighter clothing that allows for movement.

Her choice in armor is much the same. She prefers light armor that doesn't restrict her too much. Chain-mail is usually preferred over plate. Simplicity and function over style. The only nonessential Amelia dons is the white cape normally associated with the Holy Paladin Order. Her cape has been sliced and diced and, at some point, torn in two, but Amelia still insists on wearing it. It's a point of pride for the girl.

As far as weaponry goes, Amelia more often then not chooses to don two swords, which is rather unconventional as far as paladin styles go. One of those swords is crafted of castle-forged style of the highest quality. It is the standard for paladins within the order. The white blade is easily recognizable for what it is. The other is the sword wielded by her grandfather, King Roderick I of Thorne while he was serving as a Warrior of Light. It is an older sword, seemingly of ancient Eldian craft. It doesn't seem enchanted or anything, so Amelia likely only carries it in particular as a way of honoring her grandfather.

---

Personality Traits:

Passionate | Brave | Charismatic | Hot-headed | Impulsive

Likes:

Birds | Roses | Fairy tales

Dislikes:

Heights | Losing | Public Speaking

---

Hometown:

Thorne City | Thorne

Current Residence:

Thorne City | Thorne

Backstory:

Granddaughter of the King of Thorne, daughter of the younger Prince of the Thorne, and Knight-Captain of the Holy Paladin Order, Amelia was brought up on tales of valiant heroes defeating monsters and dastardly villains. She had always dreamed of being a hero herself, but her birth dictated that she would eventually end up married off to another noble family in order to secure some sort of political alliance. For the most part, she had accepted this inevitable truth and tried to make the most out of it.

It was by order of her grandfather, the king, that the girl be allowed to take up arms as a squire in service of the Holy Paladin Order of Thorne when she grew old enough to hold a sword. She took to her opportunity like a woman aflame, madly and greedily trying to absorb all that she could from her superiors. And to her credit, the girl possessed some innate talent beyond what the knights had expected from a princess. When she was to eventually be knighted, it was as much due to her combat aptitude as her royal birth. She had sworn to protect the land of Thorne with her life.

She quickly rose through the ranks of the Holy Order, eventually reaching the rank of Knight-Captain. This attracted scorn from some of her fellow knights who felt that she had an unfair advantage. Perhaps they were right. It didn't matter if they were or not, upon hearing that Amelia began questioning her entire purpose. Had she earned her place? Or had everything been just a way of satisfying the selfish whims of a noble?

Thus Amelia became determined to prove herself. She took more and more difficult missions, tackling stronger and stronger monsters. And while her determination and ferocity eventually won the respect of her men, Amelia could never satisfy her own self-doubt.

On the day of the Massacre of Thorne (and the assassination of the king), Amelia was participating in a tourney in town. Because of this, she wasn't present in the castle for when the Mage-King led his attack. She blames herself for not being there to stop the Massacre, despite the fact that she likely saved quite a few lives by assisting in fending off the monster attack on the city square and that she likely would have only perished like the others had she been there.

Having been thrust into the role of Knight-Commander of the Paladin order (due to being the highest ranking knight of the Order left in Thorne after the Massacre), and acting regent of Thorne for her baby brother (as her grandfather, father, uncle, and cousins were slain by the Mage-King), Amelia begins to assemble champions to stand against the traitorous Mage-King, and support the newly-appointed Warriors of Light.

Other:
Amelia is left-handed.

---

Name: Ryteb
Title: Dragonheart
Race: Human
Job: Red Mage
Age: 26
Gender: Male
Warrior of Light: Yes

---

Physical Features:

About 5'11 in height, with a relatively scrawny build. Though there is some muscle there, when compared to knights it is miniscule. Ryteb has naturally orange hair, which comes down to his shoulders, and a pair of blazing red eyes. His face could be considered quite handsome, in a mischievous way, with a rather dashing scar on his left cheek whose origins are a mystery. Apart from that, his body is almost unmarked, and he seems to lack the ability to grow facial hair.
On his back is a tattoo of a oriental dragon clutching a golden chalice, which he apparently recurved after a drunken wager that nobody involved can quite remember due to excessive drink.

Clothing/Armor/Weapons:

Ryteb’s first choice in apparel is a bespoke black suit, with a green waistcoat and white shirt, though he doesn’t wear a tie. Too close to a noose for him. His boots are made of a sturdy leather, and seem more practical that the rest of his In a battle, he swaps out the jacket of the suit for a cloak made from scales of bronze. As a weapon, he uses an oak cane, though the inside is filled with steel to strengthen it. The end has a sharpened bronze cap such that it can act like a rapier.

---

Personality Traits:

Cocky | Brave | Obsessed With Treasure | Has a skewed view of ownership | Loyal to his friends

Likes:

Treasure | Adventure | Good Food

Dislikes:

People Who Claim They Own His Treasure | Confinement | Being Called a Thief | Lobsters

---

Hometown:

Takhtajan

Current Residence:

Takhtajan

Occupation:

Treasure Hunter

Backstory:

Officially the greediest b*****d under the sun, and proud of it, Ryteb is the best damn treasure hunter in all of Takhtajan, if only because he’s one of the few who have survived more than one adventure into the desert. People call him Dragonheart, as his lust for treasure is so massive he doesn’t accept anyone else as the rightful owner of an object.
His origins are a mystery, perpetrated by the conflicting rumours Ryteb himself has spread. Regardless of his murky past, people agree that he’s a stand-up guy... unless treasure is involved.

Other:
Nothing comes to mind...

Name:
Seruh (Like Sarah) Vora
Title:
The Shadow
Race:
Miqo'te
Job:
Ninja
Age:
21
Gender:
Female
Warrior of Light:
Yaes

---

Physical Features:

Seruh stands at 5’2” and weighs 118 lbs. SHe has brown hair and fur, with white tufts in her ears. She tends to walk rather pompously while in town and not under cover of shadow, with her chin up, and her face angled slightly upward. She has a slight hourglass form, fair, smooth skin, mostly unmarred save a few scars from the occasional combat injury, one located on her ankle, another on her shoulder, and the last located on the back of her thigh.

Her hair is usually down, sometimes in a ponytail or bun while she is in combat; while down, it reaches to just below her shoulders. Her tail is brown with grayish-white spots on it.

Clothing/Armor/Weapons:

During the day, Seruh wears a Brown coat-like top embellished with studs of gemstones and gold buttons, with a tiny bit of her black, skin tight battlegear showing. She also dons a pair of tight, black pants that reach about an inch and a half below her knees. Around her neck is a pendant that belonged to her Grandmother, the shape of it appears to mimic the Great Crystal. When she goes outside during the day, she also puts on a hooded blue cape to help keep her fair skin looking as light as possible and protect her eyes, trained to do better in darker places, from being damaged from the harsh light.

When prowling the shadows at night or anytime she expects combat, Seruh wears a set of black, skin-tight battlegear designed for agility and silent movement. The “armor” is lined with black steel studs at regular intervals to help protect her from sustaining injuries. In addition to the battlegear she wears under her normal attire, she also wears a mask over her head that covers all of it but her eyes, with a hole in the back for her ponytail/bun.

As for Seruh’s weapons, she carries a holster with 40 shuriken in it, a small blade at her waist, meant only for dire situations, and 4 smoke balls for an emergency escape method.

---

Personality Traits:

Untrustworthy | Self-Centered | Outgoing | Patient | Calm

Likes:

Mid-day Naps | Gil | Being treated like she’s special | The Moon/Stars | Cold Beer

Dislikes:

The Sun | Other stuck-up people | Losing

---

Hometown:

Thorne City|Thorne

Current Residence:

Kimura City|Kimura

Occupation:

Bartender at “The Mythril Chalice Inn” and Ninja in a local Ninja Clan.

Backstory:

Seruh grew up on the streets of Thorne City with her father. They lived in a small broken down, abandoned house in the slums. She always made do with the little they had, and thought nothing of the hardships they went through. Her mother had died months after giving birth to her, by means of disease. When she was small, her father would tell her stories of the heroes who drove away the Mage-King and how the Mage-King flooded the land, creating the world they lived in now.

When she got a bit older she would daydream about one day being a hero, somebody who protects others. She dreamed not only of heroism, but of greatness. Later in life it would be that same hunger for greatness the would lead her to leave Thorne to make a better life for herself.

When she was about 14, her father told her he needed to leave the city for a while, that he’d be back as soon as it was safe. Her father had never been known as the most honest person in Thorne City, and probably was in trouble for some sort of crime, whether or not he was guilty of it. Seruh, seeking adventure, decided she too would leave town, and so, at the young age of 14, Seruh Vora left Thorne on the first airship, eastbound to Kimura.

Upon arrival in Kimura, Seruh found that the nation was steeped in a type of civil war, where Samurai and Ninjas fought each other for control of the nation. Seeing an opportunity to aquire the greatness she had desired as a young girl, she entered training with a ninja clan based directly in Kimura city, out of a secret passage in an inn known as “The Mythril Chalice”. They set her up with a job bartending during the day while at night she trained.

Fast-forward several years, Seruh has become one of the top ranking Ninja in her clan, and she has become affluent enough to own a home on the edge of the aristocratic end of town, decently close to the Mythril Chalice. At this point, her success has gotten to her head, she completely lost sight of her goal to become a hero. Instead, she has become a tool of war.

Present day, she was sent to Thorne during the festival to visit a sister clan located in Thorne city, using the festival as an excuse to leave so suddenly.

Other:

Has a strange liking for chocolate
Loves liquor, but can’t hold it well.

Name: Blaike Fremont
Title: "Descendant of Light", The Delusional Red Farce, The Wandering Magi
Race: Hume
Job: Red Mage
Age: 24
Gender: Male
Warrior of Light: Of course.

---

Physical Features:

Blaike is rather tall for a Hume, standing at exactly six-foot-one, save for if he's wearing his hat. He carries himself with an air of confidence, sporting an athletic build underneath all that fluff and gloss. Blaike is a little tan to the say the least, though that comes around his hands and face. His usual coloration is of a fair pigmentation underneath it all, and it's difficult to discern that he even has a tan in the first place, unless looking closely at his neck or wrist. His light, almond tinted eyes are nearly similar to his unkempt short hair... if it was auburn in any way, shape or form; he does try his best to tame the beast from time to time, but it's usually a fools folly.

Other than a hardened chin, arms, and torso, his features are rather smooth to the touch, save for a beauty mark on his right cheek near his eye and one on his back near the mid-line of his spine. Has a few small cuts on his hand and his left seems to be healing from a small burn wound that covers mainly his thumb.

Clothing/Armor/Weapons:

His usual flair in his armor starkly contrasts his usual, everyday basic clothing. Blaike's clothing isn't as much stuffy, but his shirts color is a drab and pale, it's coloration being distinctly tan. While the shirt is airy, the pants he dons are somewhat tighter, but not by a whole lot; they are generally either olive or maroon in color, nothing too striking. Aside from that, he always has a knife on his body, usually stationed by his left hip.

Moving on to his main attire, the first things that usually catch the eye are the vivid shades of red cast around his body. One of the most prominent features of his outfit is the red hat sitting atop his head. With a belt attached onto the hat, Blaike has adorned it with two distinguishable and colorful feathers of an unknown origin. Moving on to the main dish, his main suit is dished up with black buttons and golden lines, held in place with a buckle. Underneath the style and elegance hides a thin layer of chain-mail. To top it off, he has white gloves and a singular pauldron resting on his left shoulder. Other things included are his blue trousers lined with gold, some nondescript brown boots, and a stylish purple cape with white fluff. Before he usually starts a battle, however, he tears the cape off and throws it to the wind.

As for weaponry, he's got four things to his name - a sword, a dagger, his magic, and some wits about him. His blade's hilt is shown to be meticulously crafted with elegance and the edge with some practicality for its design. Beautiful white contrasts with the darkened hilt with gold lacing drawn upon it. Claims to have received this weapon after assisting a blacksmith in gathering materials. It can uniquely do elemental damage if it absorbs one of Blaike's spells, but only for a little while. Blaike's dagger is nevertheless like any other dagger you would procure from a blacksmith, save that it is rather clean and taken care of.

---

Personality Traits:

Arrogant | Fearless | Flirtatious | Relaxed | Stuborn

Likes:

Chocobo's | Stargazing | Tea

Dislikes:

Hot Weather | Snakes | Tofu

---

Hometown:

Dahlgren City | Dahlgren

Current Residence:

Thorne City | Thorne

Occupation:

Other than functioning as a wandering mercenary after his, erm, "discovery," Blaike is also a scribe. He also dabbles a little in alchemy.

Backstory:

Fifty years ago, one of the great Warrior's of Light, a magi, fought along the other heroes as he drove back the Mage-King's army. Records outside of these heroic deeds displayed that, despite all his good deeds, that he was a notorious playboy who often would get on his wife's nerves due to his debauchery and, erm, "hanging around" with other women, married or not. Eventually that life came to an end during his work upon retreating and assisting in the creation of the nation that would come to be known as Dahlgren. Over the course of fifty years, his true name was lost due to the fact that the scribes misplaced some documentation of his existence somewhere in his archives. Regardless, they all could agree he settled down in Dahlgren as he faded away into legend.

So what does this exactly have to do with Blaike? Well...

Blaike believes he is the true descendant of the hero, the grandchild... not the son of the offshoots when he was fornicating with other mistresses. Y'see, the thing about this one is that there have been multiple people who have claimed this and yet no one can verify whether or not this is true. Anyways, lets go one step back, all the wa-a-a-ay to the beginning of his life.

Blaike's lineage can only be traced back to his mothers side with his fathers being nearly a complete blank when it came to it all. Taking on the Fremont name, his mother was a prominent Black Mage among the one-hundred other council members, being one of the more universally recognized members while the former was a rather powerful white mage. While he wasn't chosen to serve in the council, he did take on the job of a white magic instructor at the academy. There was also the facet that he was rather popular with female students, but that's something else that can be brushed off for a time.

To both of them, their first son Blaike (there were other children, but they aren't important), was to live a regular life, to live and die as either an instructor at the academy or earn his place to become a council member. The only thing they struggled with deciding was his school of magic. They were both well versed in their trades and neither would back down at their decision... so to compromise, they both decided it was for the best that he would learn both tools of the trade.

Blaike honestly didn't have too much of a problem with that, as he was already content with his life. Being a prodigy at a young age and earning the ire of some of his peers, heh, check. Having two pretty darn good mages for parents? Double check. Living a lascivious life of study and constant breakthroughs? Triple those checks. It was a good life for the most part... though there was something that cut into his studies as he rose up through the ranks at his school.

More often or not, Blaike was a curious child who would often have a book in his right hand and a light in his other as he explored different parts of this city, coming into contact with various interesting individuals. He ended up running into an unusual place that was very much out of place in this setting - a center for martial training. Curious, he wandered in to find a lesson being undertook and watched. Neither the master nor horned apprentice took note of the younger Blaike until after they finished their lesson. They did have a chat afterwords before the child left, with the apprentice escorting the kid home.

Over time, in conjunction with his magical studies, he would always come back to watch them clash, blade to blade and over time, before eventually he voiced his own opinions - he wished to become involved in these lessons. While this did earn a chuckle from the teacher at first, Blaike continued to display the same fierce determination each time and eventually after the teacher spoke with the apprentice one day, he finally caved in once Blaike reached the age of thirteen.

The teacher decided to see his form and how he handled the blade... before easily handing the young boys ass to him on a silver platter. Blaike was told so many things were horrendously wrong with what he just did when attempting to display his knowledge on the blade. He cried, but he didn't give up, which was a little surprising. Blaike got back up, ready to try again. He failed. And failed. And failed. While it was blatantly obvious the man was trying to dissuade him completely, Blaike kept standing up. In the end, Blaike lost all the battles and yet he won the war.

The young magi-in-training was told it would take a while for him to reach his potential, but he would train the boy along-side his wife. He was ecstatic and thanked the man, eagerly asking him when they would start. He was told to get some rest.

From here on out, blade and magic became intertwined with his studies. This new task made it increasingly difficult to balance these two tasks out. While it did take a minor toll on his magic, it just caused his skills to grow at a somewhat slower rate. It surprised his parents, even more so when they learned what he was doing, but dismissed it as nothing but a phase.

They ended up being much more incorrect when he reached the humble age of nineteen, where his ego took off faster than the Nautilus. It probably had to do with him being one of the few top students and the great feeling he got when fighting blade for blade with his master. Blaike took up the role as an apprentice scribe, adding even more loads of events to his plate. While recording and searching for documents, he discovered something rather quintessential and astonishing.

While digging through some old archives to update, he stumbled upon a few documents that recorded his grandparents. What was even more amazing is when the listed mage on there was a representative of the light - a Warrior of Light to be exact. With that, his own career took a complete 180 as he displayed the information to other scribes who were taken aback by this lost info. This set of information ended up being discussed between whether it was real or falsified, but what was for certain was that he was going to be boastful of his own lineage, now re-imagined and rediscovered.

This was still taking years to figure out as they called in multiple people to discuss if this was a fake, even trying to find the original person who chronicled it. And at the age of twenty-one he quit his job as a scribe, spoke to his master about expanding his own skills on his own journey to live up to his ancestor. While his master was wary about this, he attempted to talk a much older Blaike down... but like last time, he failed once again and decided to see the Red Mage off with a simple blade of his own.

And after that, he vanished himself. The only thing that was left behind was a letter to his family and master. Blaike honestly thought his parents would be ok with this... and now, he would never know.

Over the next three years, he fought monsters, other bandits wandering the wilderness, took up the trade of a mercenary who would either slay or gather. He spread word about over how he was the son of a former Warrior of Light, trying to use this "legacy" to his advantage. Most people thought him to be a mere lunatic or minstrel trying to earn a bit of coin... heck, he even believed himself to be an actual Warrior of Light.

Pfft, right, like that'll ever happen.

Even so, he continued to function as a scribe as well, assisting in some documentation, as well as picking up the trade of being an amateur alchemist as a hobby. Whatever is certain now, he now lives in the City of Thorne, taking up jobs mainly as a mercenary or scribe, sometimes going outside to gather some plants.

And as of now, with the celebration of the Mage-King underway, Blaike looks to participate in the festivities and possibly tournament... unaware of the tragedy that is about to befall the capital and possibly the rest of the floating continent.

Other:
Blaike is ambidextrous
Finds gambling to be somewhat enjoyable
Prone to spouting out cheesy lines

Name: Rakta Ganti-Sih
Title: N/A
Race: Bangaa
Job: Berserker
Age: 36
Gender: Female
Warrior of Light: No

---

Physical Features:

Rakta stands at an average height for a Bangaa, around 6ft 5in, with the musculature of a seasoned combatant, and she carries herself with a prideful posture. Her scales are a dusky blue that gradients to light grey and she features orange tattoos, covering nearly half of her body, deeply inset into her scales-- they all look to be words in the language of her people. Those bright orange eyes of hers often have a weary look to them, except for when she's berserking, at which point they are quite alert and lethally analytical. Several scars mar her body, evidence of a life spent fighting, and the tip of her tail is missing. Piercings along her muzzle and ears gives hint to a subtle vanity, despite her otherwise brutish looks.

Clothing/Armor/Weapons:

Rakta is either seen lightly armored or armed to the teeth.

Light plate armor, most notably protecting her face, forearms, stomach, and knees is worn with a set of baggy pants of varying shades. This outfit is considered her "relaxing" clothes when she has to dress as such.

Rakta's usual battle armor consists of several pelts, reinforced with mail, decorated by horns, claws, and fangs of felled beasts. Most impressively about her armor is her hood, which features a mane made of authentic Behemoth hair. The pelts serve as both a trophy collection and "loose" armor, the purpose of which is to obscure her silhouette and increase the chances for glancing blows. When in "full armor" she wears a two-piece cheek and chin guard with a horned muzzle protector, and has been known to full on gore people with said horn when up-close.

No matter how much armor she is wearing, Rakta's clawed gauntlets are never left behind. The clawed fingertips serve as an extension of her own claws and the heavy gauntlets are fully padded inside, making punches and claw attacks easy on her underlying anatomy.


Personality Traits:
Shy | Rebellious | Stubborn | Nurturing | Aggressive
Good luck getting her to change her mind about anything. Ever.

Likes:
Music | Epic Tales | Spiritualism

Dislikes:
Cold Weather | Summoners | Pessimists

---

Hometown:
Takhtajan

Current Residence:
Takhtajan

Occupation:
Bodyguard

Backstory:
The Ganti-Sih clan roams the deserts of Takhatjan, lead by a spiritual leader called the "Am-Ra". Like all Ganti-Sih children, Rakta grew up on the move and raised by the clan itself-- not solely by her birth parents. When it was discovered that Rakta had been "born with the spirit of a beast" within her, she was assigned a "Pahmet"-- a child chosen to become a carrier of the Am-Ra's knowledge-- and sent on a "Star Speak". The Star Speak consists of a journey through the desert with a Pahmet and, while the Pahmet may have food or water, the beast-child may not, in order to maintain their purification. After being purified by the clan Pahmets, Rakta was sent into the desert sands and, remarkably, went six days before passing into the Star Speak dream. Within the Star Speak, Rakta saw her destiny, met with the spirit of the beast which ignited her blood, spoke to the "Many Faced God", then returned with understanding that she was destined for something which would determine the fate of the world itself.

Years of training and fighting followed. Her Pahmet lead her through ever increasing danger, in order to strengthen the beast spirit, and increase her endurance for the Berserker state. Wars with other nomadic clans, skirmishes with intruders, and plenty of honor duels hardened Rakta's resolve and spirit. Despite the hardship, Rakta learned to care for the clan children with kindness and wisdom-- an odd trait for any berserker. The Ganti-Sih came to rely upon her for both protection and battle prowess, until the day came that her Pahmet spoke of a journey to another isle. Though many were displeased at the development, none questioned the wisdom of the Many Faced God, and reluctantly said their goodbyes to Rakta and her Pahmet.

Other:
- Rakta is a great seamstress-- those pelts didn't sew themselves!
- Wither or not Rakta is truly inhabited by the spirit of a "beast" is a subject of theological debate.
- The Many Faced God's existence is also a subject of theological debate however-- there are very convincing signs of their material existence in the form of clockwork Obelisks on Takhatjan.
- Apparently no one knows where Rakta got the Behemeoth fur from-- she insists it came from her Star Speak journey.

Name: Amadeus Galantia Moggo the Fourth. 'Moggo' for short.
Title: "Squire Moggo IV of Mog Town, Guardian of the Crystal Palace, Squire to the Steward of the Grand Crystal"
Race: Moogle
Job: Warrior
Age: 15
Gender: Male
Warrior of Light: No

---

Physical Features:

Tall for a moogle, Moggo stands over his kin at an impressive 3 '4" in height (thats 3'10" feet with his ears!), with quaint cream colored fur. His body is narrow and sinewy, and his wings are a leathery black while his pom is a light green. His eyes are soft and brown in color, and have a sense of perceptiveness to them. Most notably, his ears are dark brown in color, instead of the cream white of the rest of his fur. While his body is relatively devoid scars, and are generally hidden by his fur, though the most notable one is a short, pink slash across his left cheek.

Clothing/Armor/Weapons:

Like most moogles, Moggo's everyday attire consists of a large, one piece type of baggy attire in white and green that goes down to past his knees, with a pair of breeches tucked into a pair of sturdy leather boots. The sleeves are tucked leather vambraces over the his hands as to not get in his way. Overtop of this, he wears a tough, sturdy leather apron that isn't uncommon on squires. A leather cap tops his head, with holes for his ears and pom.

In battle, Moggo joins the ranks of his other fellow warriors. Clad in steel plates on his arms and legs, plated boots and gloves, with a chainmail shirt underneath a tough leather brigandine, Moggo is surprisingly mobile for such an ungainly looking appearance. His head is protected by a visored sallet, with holes in the top for his pom and ears to poke through. His ears has soft leather strapped to its back for added protection. Additionally, the right pauldron of Moggo's armor has a worn pad of thick leather on top of it, which he uses to rest his sword on when unsheathed.

Like many would-be knights, Moggo is trained in a variety of martial weapons, though there are a few that he favors. Typically, he wields his favored greatsword- The Lohengrin, a massive blade of fine castleforged craftsmanship. A noble sword, its hilt is accented by blazing crimson vines that manifest in a fiery red rose in the center of the crossguard. This greatsword, by hume standards is no longer than a typical bastard sword- a three foot blade with an extra foot long hilt- but is comparatively massive when regarded with Moggo's diminutive stature. Despite his sword's bulk, Moggo still manages to swing it around with surprising ableness. Moggo's most prized possession, a gift from his commanding Paladin, this blade almost never leaves Moggo's side- or back, where it is typically sheathed in a fine cherry wood scabbard etched with similar vine designs around its mouth.

However, it is not unknown for Moggo to wield a shortspear or shortsword (in place of a typical polearm or single handedsword) in conjunction with a buckler (in place of a kiteshield), when his Lohengrin is impractical, and he is capable of riding Chocobo into battle when called upon.




Personality Traits:

Loyal | Earnest | Selfless | Short-Sighted | Simple-Minded

Likes:

Getting scratched behind the ear | Acts of Valor | Kupo Nuts

Dislikes:

Having his Pom/Wings pulled | Acts of Cowardice | Jokes about height

---

Hometown:

Mog Town | Thorne

Current Residence:

Thorne City | Thorne

Occupation:

A Squire in the service of the Holy Paladin Order

Backstory:

The third son and fifth child of eight, Moggo was born to a humble farming family in the outfields of Thorne, in a small village populated primarily by moogles- Mog Town. Amadeus Galantia Moggo the Fourth was never destined for greatness, said his family, he and the rest of his siblings were expected to help his parents run their farm. As a child, Moggo helped out his family on the Moggo farm, either cultivating Kupo Nuts or tending to the chocobos, though he often dreamed of doing more with his life- doing good in a way that was more than just helping around the farm or tending to birds.

Still, ever the good son, Moggo spent most of his childhood and adolescent years helping his family on their farm, and between schooling and farmwork was kept quite busy. Keeping him busy was his parents way of trying to discourage him from growing too ambitious or curious of the world beyond the farm, believing that he would strike off on his won to act on some foolhardy sense of justice, but they were not blind to his desires. As he grew older, his parents relented a bit, and allowed him to travel to Thorne City with his father when they went to sell their goods in the market.

One day in town, a group of Paladins in the marketplace noticed the small moogle family, and one commented on Moggo's impressive strength- being able to easily carry a heavy barrel of kupo nuts that a fully grown hume would be hard pressed to carry without aid- and said that Moggo would make a decent Knight with his strength. Though the compliment was merely a comment in passing, perhaps even a joke, Moggo took the words to heart and decided that he had found his true calling.

Much to the dismay of his father, Moggo immediately set off to find the Crystal Palace where he animatedly requested to join the service of its Knight Paladins. The Paladins found themselves bewildered with the appearance of the little moogle requesting to join their ranks, and equally bewildered by the adamancy in which he refused to be refused. Eventually, a kindly lower-ranked knight decided to take Moggo on as a squire, willing to humor the little moogle for a little while before the little thing would surely tire of his ideals and realize that military service was not for him.

Unfortunately for Sir Eran Quaid, the lowly knight that took Moggo under his wing, Moggo did not tire of his aspirations to join the Holy Paladin Order. In fact, Moggo possessed an amount of determination and energy uncommon to even the most dedicated of squires. With the work ethic and dedication of a full-time farmer, the little moogle surprised many with his determination and surprising amount of strength.

Now a squire for the past three years, Amadeus Galantia Moggo IV serves and accompanies Sir Eran Quaid as he quests in the service of the Holy Paladin Order. From delivering messages and letters, to caring and maintaining armor and weapons, and even fighting alongside Sir Eran against monsters, Moggo eagerly serves the Order with aspirations of joining its ranks as a full fledged Paladin himself. Currently, the pair are back in Thorne City, as Sir Eran participates in tourneys and Amadeus enjoys the week long festival.
Other:

Needless to say, Sir Eran will likely perish with the attack, leaving Moggo free to join the rest of the party on whatever it is they decide to do.

Moggo is abnormally strong. Attributed to years of working on a farm, Moggo posses an amount of strength that is bewildering comparative to his size.

Name: Ersatz Rasaba
Title: The Self-Proclaimed Desperado Dandy
Race: Hume
Job: Machinist
Age: 29
Gender: Male
Warrior of Light: No

---

Physical Features:

Though he stands at 5'9", the garb Ersatz wears makes him seem slightly larger than he actually is. He is somewhat on the lean side in terms of build as well. Ersatz claims to have short black hair, desert-tanned skin and a scar from an old gunshot wound on his chest. However, as he is usually covered in all his garb, the only real physical feature others can confirm are his dark olive eyes.

Clothing/Armor/Weapons:

The first thing most people will notice about his attire would either be his bright green-and-red sarape or his large canary sombrero. A closer inspection at his garb would reveal the fact that he not only has a skull bandana over his mouth but also an orange scarf that covers his neck. A bone pattern dress and a pair of leather boots cover his lower body while metal gauntlets protect his arms. To complete the theatricality, he carries a frequently out of tune guitar that's strapped over his right shoulder.

The real tool of the trade lies in his satchel bag however: a customized sawn-off musket that has been fitted to fire elemental bullets!.. If he had any left.


Personality Traits:

Theatrical | Clever | Selfish | Deceitful | Sentimental

Ersatz likes to put on a show, whether he's fighting or performing. However, when confronted with a life or death situation, he'll be ready to throw someone unimportant in front of the fire. Alas, his judgment is not always logical.

Likes:

Songs | Artifacts | Machines

Dislikes:

Authorities | Caves | Flans

---

Hometown: ??? | Cronquist

Current Residence: Topeak | Calestani

Occupation: Street performer, irregular handyman, and machinist apprentice

Backstory:

A Cronquist citizen who sought a better life, Ersatz moved to Calestani after an incident forced him out the land he called home. The only things he had were the clothes on his back, his guitar and a broken Deepkin firearm that he wanted to have repaired by the master machinists themselves. Once he got there, however, it became apparent that he wasn't going to get an audience with a Deepkin machinist anytime soon. Still, an apprenticeship with a tinkerer and some music gigs at the local inns were enough to help him get by. After saving up enough money, Ersatz finally had the firearm repaired and has decided to take a vacation with the remaining savings, just in time for the festival at Thorne.

Ersatz's journey has been filled with tough times but it wasn't all bad. In fact, he tends to remember the good moments more than the bad experiences. Yet, one can never just escape the deeds of their past. Ersatz is trying though.

Other: He has been known to perform with his guitar but does not know of any magical bardsongs.

Name: Ryouji Yasuharu
Title: Prince
Race: Hume
Job: Samurai
Age: 16
Gender: Male
Warrior of Light: Yes

---

Physical Features:

Standing roughly 4' 8", Ryouji is quite short for his age. A scrawny 95 pounds would make him an easy target if not for his Royal heritage. Steel grey hair adorns his head, a genetic gift from his Father, and his eyes shimmer in a pale cerulean like his Mother. His youth is ever apparent in his skin tone and complexion, and he has taken great care to avoid poor hygiene. Though, he has managed to build a small amount of muscle, thanks to his swordsmanship training.

Clothing/Armor/Weapons:

Normally, he is seen wearing the traditional dress of the Kimuran nation, a simple indigo kimono with his family crest embroidered on the back. He carries a ceremonial katana with him nearly everywhere he goes, though it once belonged to his grandfather and is merely a placeholder until he is old enough to forge his own. If he were to engage in combat, Ryouji has a set of Kozane, lamellar leather armor that his Father had made for him.

---

Personality Traits:

Brave | Naive | Well Mannered | Timid | Determined
Quick to trust, and sadly easy to manipulate.

Likes:

Swords | Friends | Legends | Rainstorms

Dislikes:

Chocobo Riding | Mud | The Color pink

---

Hometown:

Kimura

Current Residence:

The Palace of House Yasuharu, on the southernmost peninsula of the Island

Occupation:

Studies Bushido from his Father, practicing his swordsmanship and political manners daily.

Backstory:

Not much can be said about his upbringing. Life in the Palace was only noteworthy during his time training his sword skills with his father or reading old Legends about ancient Swordsmen and Heroes. Though, there was one time when he was very young when he was bitten by a Chocobo, thus starting a lifelong distrust for the bright yellow birds.

Other:

One day, he hopes to be the greatest swordsman who ever lived, even greater than the Legendary Gilgamesh.
He always carries more Gil then he can really understand the value of.
Even though he has no magical skills, he has named his attacks after powerful techniques used by Legendary Warriors, just in case one of them actually works.

Name: Nila Daana
Title: The Bluest Of All Mages
Race: Hume
Job: Blue Mage
Age: 19
Gender: Female
Warrior of Light: No


Physical Features:

Nila stands at five-foot-five, with a thin build suited more for manouverability than heavy lifting. As such, her measurements are also on the shorter side, much to her complete indifference. Nila's skin is lightly tanned, with thick, pitch-black hair that falls wildly onto her shoulders, where it's generally left to lie - aside from a blue ribbon tied around a lock of hair. Her eyes are a super unique and brilliant hazel.

A scar lies underneath Nila's left eye, a nasty cut from childhood, following a terrible run-in with a grouchy goblin that had figured out "Goblin Punch + Pointy Object = more damage". This scar hasn't healed the most gracefully, but is generally hidden under the domino mask Nila likes to wear, however. Not that she has an issue showing the scar, the mask is just too awesome to not wear.

Clothing/Armor/Weapons:

Rare is the occasion that Nila is not decked out in her 'work clothes'. With a standard white undershirt, and blue, poofy trousers as her base, Nila also dons an equally blue cape that travels midway down her back, and neatly wraps around her shoulders. In addition, Nila wears black, travel-worn boots that have served her well in her travels.

And of course, a domino mask. Covering most of the upper half of her face, Nila tends to wear this when being overly-theatrical. The rims of the mask extend slightly beyond her face, with the upper corners tipped with a light teal gradient and stretching upward slightly.

In battle, Nila would wear light, leather armour - anything heavier she finds too cumbersome or detrimental to her spellcasting and evasive action. As such, she generally won't wear anything more complicated than a cuirass, and maybe a leather helmet, if she's going to fight a monster known for throwing projectiles.

At her hip, Nila wields her trusty sabre, a small, curved sword that can be wielded with one hand. It's a rather bog-standard sword, as far as materials go, and has seen it's fair share of fights. Luckily, it's still got plenty of usage left in it. Probably helps that Nila isn't exactly a frontline fighter, making its maintenance much easier.


Personality Traits:

Outgoing | Cheerful | Impulsive | Curious | Theatrical

Nila's pretty darn showy a lot of the time, seemingly unaware of the art of subtlety. She expresses great confidence in her skills, knowledge and presentation, but lacks restraint and tact in certain situations, which can draw some unwanted attention. She's a friendly and helpful gal with an optimistic mindset about things, but loses sight of her surroundings when a chance to expand her personal bestiary occurs - no matter what, she needs to know how behemoths react to getting poked with a stick.

Nila has a great love for magic of all forms, and naturally loves her brand most of all. When she learned that most places outside of Dahlgren seemed disdainful at best towards magic, it blew her mind. What was the problem? They were acting like magic nearly destroyed the world or something! Nila often overlooks a particular black spot in history when defending magic.

Likes:

Monsters | Moogles | Theatres

Even compared to other Blue Mages, Nila seems to hold a great admiration for the creatures that like to randomly ambush travellers. Part of this may just be because of the possibility she can acquire new techniques to mess around with, but even beyond that, she speaks of monters' chaarcteristics with great fondness and passion. Well, with a particular exception...
The poor moogles, cursed with infinite cuteness, are also Nila's prey. She cannot stop herself from hugging them tightly, wishing to keep them as companions, and touching their pom-poms. It's probably safe to say she is not popular amongst moogles.
And of course, Nila holds great fondness for the theatrical and grandiose. Anyone with an affinity for the extravagant shall earn her much-coveted admiration.

Dislikes:

Malboros | Anti-magic bias | Large bodies of water

...Bad Breath was not worth the effort to learn. That's all Nila will say regarding Malboros.
'Baseless and unfounded' fears about magic are a given for someone that practices an admittedly-unusual school of magic, but regardless, Nila cannot fathom why anyone would consider magic to be a bad thing. It's nothing but beneficial, right?!
Nila, unfortunately, is not a particularly strong swimmer. This probably stems from another monster-related incident, though it's not exactly as trauamtic as the Malboro Incident. Still, she hasn't exactly done much to rectify this issue. The aquatic creatures of her bestiary are going to be neglected for a while, it seems.


Hometown:

Dahlgren

Current Residence:

Thorne, The Great Outdoors/Some Inn

Occupation:

Monster Hunter: Nila mainly earns her keep by snatching up bounties on troublesome monsters. Not only does this let her eat for the day, she's practically getting paid to study potentially new monsters! Though on a slow day with no monsters to hunt, she'll ask around for any day-jobs cleaning tables or something.

Backstory:

Born in Dahlgren to a family that heavily favoured Blue Magic, Nila is the youngest of five siblings - the second-eldest sadly deceased at this point in time. While Nila isn't exactly a prodigy, her great love of blue magic, and fascination with monsters in general, has inspired some promising results for her.

Nila has taken every chance possible to encounter a wide variety of monsters, expanding her knowledge of any and all genus recorded in her personal bestiary. Not just their looks or abilities, but even their habitats, habits, typical diet... anything she can observe. Having only just begun her travels though, there are stil lso many fascinating creatures to find...

Growing up, Nila wasn't quite as outgoing and boisterous as she is now. Having a few unlucky encounters with monsters certainly did little to boost her confidence. Fortunately, Nila's family are a rather supportive lot: with their encouragement, Nila stuck with her studies of Blue Magic, and her passion bloomed when she was officially enrolled as a student. Seeing more of the world, a wider variety of monsters with interesting lifestyles, and of course, learning more and more monster-based spells had sparked a desire to master the school of magic.

Other:

Her favourite colour is actually green. Go figure.
Oddly enough, despite getting scarred in this incident, Nila quickly got over the incident. It got her to start wearing a stylish mask, so no point in moping over it, right?

Name: Alice Isabelle Leon
Title: The Emerald Bard previously-(The Emerald Ranger)
Race: Miqu’ote
Job: Originally began out as a Ranger but grew into a full fledged Bard when she discovered she had an affinity for them
Age: 24 years old
Gender: Female
Warrior of Light: No

---

Physical Features:

Standing at a whole 5’00” tall Alice is usually deemed less than scary by those who do not know her. Her vivid green eyes then ot be the second thing noticed about her upon meeting her- large, round and observant. Thick lashes and expressions that speak volumes without a single word being spoken. Soft and pretty when performing for audiences yet confident and intimidating when not performing. Her hair is short and spiked- the base color a nice tawny color that ends in lighter golden blonde at the tips. She constantly has a hair piece of pink flowers pinned into the left side of her hair just in front of her ear. As is common with her species she does have facial markings; two lines on either of her cheeks and a set of lines on her forehead going towards her nose. Pouty pink lips and pretty white teeth that she has no problem flashing when the time calls for it. She does have several small scars on her face from her younger years but they are only really visible upon closer inspection-along with the dusting of freckles across her cheeks and nose. They are the same color as her markings-if not a few shades darker. Her tail, despite her smaller size, is fuller and longer than most other Miqos her size-it’s something she is proud of. Being short she is a bit stockier than most others-muscles do that. She hides it well but she’s shapely. A bit top heavy but she isn’t frail or lacking muscles. It seems to be very appealing to those who watch her perform so she tries to maintain her shape as much as possible.

Clothing/Armor/Weapons:

Usual Attire: When not performing and not on missions Alice tends to keep it simple. Comfortable knee or thigh high boots, a simple blouse and usually tight pants. Various belts and bags attached to her outfit for obvious reasons.

Performing: It depends on what she is feeling like going for that night but it’ one of two things. Fun or sexy. Fun nights she will wear bright colors and lots of fabrics to twirl and spin while she is playing music. Sexy nights she likes to wear sheers and skirts that never show anything but give the illusion of it. Veils and scarves are always fun to her.

Battling: When on mission, so long as she has time to prepare, she will wear conservative clothing. This usually consists of comfortable boots (with hidden weapons because you can never be too safe), movable (still tight) pants, and usually layered tops or jackets. The later depends on how she is feeling. She does have an odd habit of wearing her old ranger hat when on mission though; something she claims she can battle with on but others can't see her face while wearing.

Weapon:Previously as a Ranger she would simply carry a bow and magicked quiver but being a bard she needs to carry instruments. She currently carries a bow called the Artemis Bow and tends to dye it to her liking depending on her outfit.


Personality Traits:

Fiercely Trustworthy | Loyal | Observant | Vengeful | Physical

Once upon a time Alice Leon was a bright eyed and bushy tailed Ranger of Takhtajan. She had found herself among what people were in this part of the world-closer with one as the next. She was an aggressive child, typically about her height and cute face, and took up a bow to get that feisty side out. She looked out for others and they looked out for her-that's just how it worked until coin got to be too shiny. In her naive she turned a blind eye to all the actions of the people she had trusted until they’d left her to die in a caved in mine for days before disappearing. She quickly left the only place she had lived and turned into something of a sarcastic jaded merc...then she discovered Barding and that she had a knack for it. Though she does tend to keep to herself, the few people who Alice is close to she trusts and loves with every fiber of her being. Alice is the type to fight tooth and nail to protect her companions and loved ones no matter what it is in front of them. Despite that bubbling anger Alice loves to make people smile-that’s what drew her to barding. To support and to aid people around her-her team always coming first in her mind. However, if that bubbling anger is allowed to come forth she will not give mercy and she will not be kind. Sometimes people don’t deserve kindness. “Builds character”

Likes:

Music | Cooking | Glamour/Clothing

Music-she’s a bard. What did you expect?

Weirdly enough Alice is very self sufficient when it comes to cooking and actually very much so enjoys cooking for others. She tends to look at what she has in front of her and figure out some kind of a meal based off of those things. It’s therapeutic for her.

“Gotta look cute when killing things and people right?”

Dislikes:

The Cold | Rude People | Being Bossed Around

The cold really bothers Alice-she’s small and constantly below the normal body temperature for her kind. Taking her to a cold place ensures lots of bitching and few songs.

Alice has no patience for rude or uncaring people. Interrupting her performances will probably get you an arrow skimming your cheek or a suplex into the ground by her. Don’t let her catch you bullying other people either….hope you have a good healer if she does catch you.

Alice will always claim that her aversion to being told no comes from being part cat and having a touch of a feisty personality but it’s more or less due to that fact that if you don't give her a reason to respect you she will not listen. It gets worse if it’s a stupid idea-she will not hesitate to rip the idea to shreds just to prove how flimsy the idea is. That aspect alone is one of the key reasons she works alone most of the time.

---

Hometown:

Her birth city is Takhtajan but she no longer considers that place her home.

Current Residence:

Since leaving Takhtajan the longest she has been somewhere has always been a few weeks down on Gaia. A Lot of gil can be made down there with all those tired explorers and such. She just travels as she pleases though.

Occupation:

It has been a few months since Alice had taken a full on Ranger mission as she’s found a few honey pot locations for her to get the best coin possible for her performances but currently Alice is performing within taverns or simply on street corners during the day time. She has a sweet voice that can spin stories of the people passing by to grab attention as she strums and plucks her hand harp. When she performs in taverns she dances and sings and plays instruments, specifically the piano, hand harp, full harp, flute among a few other odd ended musical instruments here and there. With the festival happening she’s making quite the coin right about now.

Backstory:

Born into the desert land of Takhtajan Alice grew up under strict parents. Both of military background and both dead by the time she was a young teenager. Yet, despite being their only child and now left alone she found solace in a long time friend who she had grown up with. She took up the bow to follow after her friend and to curb the underlying anger inside of her-effectively becoming a Ranger. Alice had found a new family among the Ranger of Takhtajan and, like many others, took up escorting jobs and protection jobs due to the local area’s wealth in jewels and gems. Yet, being so young Alice stayed naive and made excuses and made covers for the people around her that were apart of jobs that were a few jewels short or the ones that somehow came out giving more than stated on the description. She was sixteen-why would she think badly of the people around her? However, the gil got to be too shiny for all but her-including her childhood friend and her then lover and thought to be soul mate.
During an escort job she was betrayed by not only her Ranger team but by the man who she wanted to spend the rest of her life with. She watched them slit the throat of the men and women who were mining and packing down the caravanes for travel. Alice watched in horror as they caved in the mine...with her still in it.

By the time she was able to escape per the rescue of the local people who came looking for their loved ones, the family she knew was gone in the wind.

For a time Alice put down her bow, after giving her money to as many of the affected families as she could find, and traveled. She was about nineteen at this time and had always had an affinity for singing. It helped her to have enough coin to eat and move on to the next place.

When she was about twenty, just shy of her twenty first birthday, she met a man in a tavern who sang her a song about the sad kitten with the pretty voice. THat man would become her master in learning the art of becoming a Bard.

Her Master gave her a graduation ceremony when she was about to turn twenty three. By the time she was a full fledged Bard she was a different person. Still jaded and cold when not playing music but so lively and warm and brilliant when singing songs of heroes of old and of the children sitting at her feet in the marketplace and of the great things to be done in life. Of course, she learned songs to sing on the times she was feeling in the mood to pick up her bow. Some songs to reinvigorate the spell casters so that they could cast longer and others to ease the fatigue of the physical fighters so that they could continue to hit harder and harder. She even had songs that could lower the concentration of the enemies who could hear her music for a certain amount of time.

As of late she has been traveling down on Gaia after discovering that the tired explorers and scholars tended to pay a pretty gil for a beautiful girl to sing and dance for them. Alice of course has her boundaries but if batting her lashes and singing to the awkward scholar at the tavern gets a little extra gil she has no problem with it.

Currently she is at the Festival in Thorne to make a bit of extra money. Her favorite spot to play is within the Marketplace due to how lively it is but she can make more people smile this way and entertain more and spread the happiness further and longer.

Other:

Alice is afraid of the ocean and absolutely loves to fly/free fall. Too much pent up energy leads to her bouncing around the place.

She likes to sit high places.

She’s a closet narcissist.

Name: Vincent Letendre
Title: Prodigy The prodige
Race: Moogle
Job: Mechanist
Age: 24
Gender: Male
Warrior of Light: Yes

---

Physical Features:

Vincent is a rather short, being about 3'1" feet high. He is not that strong, with his pom pom being blue, with soft white fur around his body and slightly golden eyes. He has a bit of blond hair on the top of his head with large moogle ears.

Clothing/Armor/Weapons:
Vincent wears usually a white and blue tunic with leather armor under it. He also has red boots for travelling. He has a large rifle that he made that is able to split into 2 pistols for rapid fire when it is needed.

---

Personality Traits:

Quick thinking | Friendly | Creative | Fiery | Impulsive
Vincent is one to think quickly when things happen, attempting to help as best as he can when needed, though this also makes it that he is too impulsive sometimes. He also has issues with his temper when someone gets him mad, telling those people his thoughts pretty vocally… even if he is laughed at because ofhis small size… which usually end with the guy having a large gun pointed at him, and Vincent threatening the guy to leave him alone.
Likes:

Machines | Mystery | Friends

Dislikes:

Big Spiders | Fish | Backstabbers

---

Hometown:

Eraclia, near Calestani

Current Residence:

Thorne, Thorne City

Occupation:
Traveling alchemist

Backstory:
Vincent was born in a small town of Eraclia, which is near is near Calestani. This small town was known for its large farming lands that it used to export food back to Calestani to keep its people fed. Vincent’s mother was an alchemist, using the grown herbs to make potions for travellers. His father was a farmer who used to be a white mage until he saw so many deaths that he could not save that it effected him too deeply.

Vincent's life was rather simple at the beginning, learning from his mother about alchemy and working to help his father, as well as exploring around town. He wished to explore outside the town, but his parents was too worried about it, so he stayed in town.

One day a hume mechanist walked into town, his large gun in hand, with bruises all over his body, as if he had been attacked by a large beast. He went to Vincent’s mother, going to buy some supplies to her, but he was low on money. Vincent saw the man, and saw the equipment, seeing also a small helicopter bot flying around a bit near the mechanist. This amazed Vincent as he saw the thing. The man looked at his mother, looking down.
“So much work for nothing… so many monsters around these parts…” the man said, before seeing Vincent’s eyes when he was looking at the bot with amazement. He smiled a bit.
“The little guy seems amazed by my bot I see… maybe I could sell him a copy I made for him?” he then said. Vincent’s mother looked skeptical, before Vincent begged for this. She finally gave in and let the guy pay for his potion for a copy of the bot.

Vincent was very happy about this, actually studying the machine, trying to figure out how it worked. It also made him wonder more about machines. His parents, seeing this, decided to buy him some books for how machine worked, as well as some tools that Vincent still has to this day.

After a month, his parents had a big surprised. During some work on the farm to water the plants, Vincent came out with a large water tank with 2 hoses on each arm, using pressure to expel the water out and water the plants. It was then that his parents knew he was rather gifted.

After a couple of months, his parents knew that Vincent needed to go and learn more, and considering the money they made with everything, they moved to Calestani, where Vincent learned more about machines and the mysteries of the world, as well as being a blacksmiths apprentice for money and making friends. It was then also that he made his gun… which he had to use not long afterwards unfortunately.

The nation was soon attacked by dragons, but this time it was very close to Vincent’s home. When the beast attacked, he took out his gun, and shot a thunder elemental shot to the beast, with the guards trying to help also to take it down… They eventually succeeded… but not before Vincent’s home was destroyed in the process. His parents were safe at least, but with something like this happen, it was clear to them that they could not stay here. They wanted to end up somewhere safer, like Dahlgen. Vincent though didn’t really feel like going to Dahlgen, so it was then that he parted away with them, wanting to explore the mysteries of the world.

To make his money, Vincent used the knowledge he learned from his mother, selling healing potions around the world, and also some helpful tools that he made when he had some time.

After some travelling Vincent got to Thorne, where he decided to stay for a bit, exploring the town. He met with another mechanist by the name of Professor Firaga. His knowledge of machines and inventions were very interesting for Vincent, who decided to stay in town because of this, even if the professor was a bit… well… insane with some inventions? Vincent had to stop the professor a couple of times because of his… most dangerous inventions. Let us keep it at that. It was also there that he met Arte, a black mage Nu Mou who Vincent got to know well and befriend, actually working together to make sure Firaga would not end up blowing the town by accident or something.. or telling him major flaws in his inventions.. And this is where his story continues
Other:

Nothing at all that I can think about adding

Name: Arte Firaga
Title: Walking Explosion
Race: Nu Mou
Job: Black Mage
Age: 30
Gender: Male
Warrior of Light: Yes

---

Physical Features:

He stands at 4'3", rather short for his species, he is, however, of an average build for his kind, his skin color is a sort of brownish grey, almost annoyingly matching his fur color, at least, when said fur isn't covered in soot, He has blue eyes, and completely lacks facial hair. He doesn't have any ACTUAL scars, but there are plenty of burn marks on him that won't go away. He is often covered in soot and ash from failed attempts at casting fire magic... yes, he's aware of the irony, given his last name.

Clothing/Armor/Weapons:

Arte wears a rather simple set of blue robes (which cannot be caught on fire, but are not particularly RESISTANT to it.), as well as some usually hidden pants, and even a shirt underneath, he also wields a basic wooden staff... even if it looks special, since, like most of him, it's covered in soot. As he's a mage, he's not one for armor, so, thus, he wears his usual clothing into battle.


Personality Traits:

Calm | Cheerful | Usually tries everything at least once | Can be known to hold a grudge for a LONG time | Occasionally unaware of just how dangerous the enemy is

As he takes after his mad scientist of a father, he's obviously rather curious, prone to try any food, or thing once, if he thinks he can either get a laugh out of it, or actually like it. Arte is also normally calm, and slow to anger... but, if you DO anger him, expect him to hold a grudge against you for quite some time to come. He also has a nasty habit of underestimating his opponents... which might have him use his weaker (and less controlled) fire magic, as opposed to his lightning magic.

Likes:

Sweet and or Spicy food | Chocobos | Lightning magic

He absolutely LOVES the taste of anything sweet and or spicy, which makes one wonder why he isn't fat... in fact, he usually carries around a bag of candy, which he claims to be 'components for lightning spells'... despite the fact that he doesn't NEED components for lightning spells anymore. Like most people, he adores the piles of feathers known as chocobos, even if he cannot ride them... and he likes all forms of lightning, be it a storm, or just magic from someone (even himself), and when asked why, he shrugs, and says 'It looks nice'.

Dislikes:

He hates the taste of fish | He can't stand being cold | Bomb-type enemies | He also hates betrayal

If there's one kind of food he can't stand, it's fish. He tried it once, a while ago, and, thus far, it's been the only kind of food to actually make him puke... whether this was because it was poorly prepared, or not, he holds that against all fishy foods, and can't even stand smelling the stuff, anymore. He also despises the feeling of being cold, though, this might just be due to him being used to the heat from all of his failed fire spells... speaking of, he doesn't like bombs, either, due to the fact that he can't kill them in time, and they usually explode on him, and only HE can explode on him, dang it! Arte can't STAND it when someone pretends to be friendly towards him, and then either attacks him, or steals from him... the few who've successfully done it will most likely warn others to just LEAVE HIM BE, instead.

---

Hometown: Dahlgren

Current Residence: Thorne

Occupation: Student. He also takes care of his elderly, 350 year old grandfather (we'll call him just a 'grandfather' for the sake of brevity), and makes sure that neither he, nor the city, blows up due to his grandpa's insane inventions.

Backstory:

Arte Firaga was fairly ordinary as a child, as he didn't do much outside of his own 'comfort zone', and thus, didn't try his hand at fire magic, or talk to his 'grandpa', yet, however, he also didn't have many, if any friends, and when he was really young, he used to always carry around a small plush chocobo... which got him regularly picked on by other children. A couple months after he turned ten, he met an odd man by the name of Cid, who drove a strange-looking, probably custom-made airship, and, much like the other kids at the time, once Cid landed, he asked him how he built that, and specifically, how he knew he was good at doing that. Cid just shrugged and said something along the lines of 'I didn't. I just tried to make an airship one day, and it worked' after that, Arte made the potentially fatal mistake of trying his hand at fire magic. He was JUST as good at not making it blow up back then, as he is to this very day, so, obviously, he's made a LOT of progress, right?

When Arte reached the age of eighteen, is 'grandfather's' caregiver gave up on the old coot, and they had to find a new caretaker... unfortunately, everyone else was already aware of exactly what this 'job' entailed, poor Arte was more or less forced into it, and forced to move to Thorne, where his grandfather's lab was. It took about two weeks before Arte figured out that he was supposed to STOP his grandfather from inventing things, and it took another couple of months before he came up with some guidelines for his grandfather, who he learned was a former warrior of light, himself, to follow, after which, he didn't have to stop EVERY invention from happening. Among said new inventions were the 'mechanical chocobo'... which doesn't move, has no seat other than the wrong side of a gear, but strangely enough made a good juicer, and the 'macro scope' which was supposed to allow you to see things much larger than yourself, which people can already do by using their eyes... oddly enough, the macro scope made for a decent enough mace.

Oddly enough, Arte met one of his first friends, a moogle by the name of Vincent, at around the time his grandfather invented the macro scope, and the two have worked to help 'Professor' Firaga ever since, with Arte trying to keep the two from making anything explosive, and Vincent actually helping the self-proclaimed professor make actually useful things... though, the two haven't made a single device together, as of yet.

Other:
From his near-constant failures, Arte has become quite resistant to spells hostile or otherwise, and his fire spells have a decent chance at failing, and literally blowing up in his face... however, he's actually extremely good at using lightning magic.

Name: Clementine Haschwalden
Title: The Giantslayer
Race: Hume
Job: Dark Knight
Age: 21
Gender: Male
Warrior of Light: Yes

---

Physical Features:

When you look at him, at his young jaw and his soft skin, you might think that Clementine Haschwalden is just a boy playing knight, that’s he’s too small and too quiet and too much like a dandelion about to be blown away in the wind. Or maybe you look at him and think to yourself, that young, soft look to his face is a red herring, because looks deceive, and the dangerous ones are the ones who don’t look dangerous at all, and he must have earned that sharp and shadowy armor for a reason, right? But Clementine isn’t really any of the things he looks like. He’s not much of a dandelion, and he’s not much of a knight.

Clementine Haschwalden has snowy white hair cut short and boyish, large round eyes that might be black, or muddy blue, and he stands at an unimpressive 5’3”, maybe 5’3-and-a-half”. His legs are long, and his shoulders are round and hard, and he might appear a bit like a gymnast, or a long-distance runner. A distracted look tends to meander around his face, like a part of him got lost in thought one day and never came back home.

His eyes are always so serious, and if they’re not serious then they’re worried.

Clothing/Armor/Weapons:

Clementine wears the highly recognizable armor of a Dark Knight, with horned shoulder-plates and a huge, angry-looking helmet that might’ve fallen off a chess board. A lacey white cape flies over his shoulders, and his lower arms are covered up by thick white opera gloves, with black hands. The tight and form-fitting armor of a Dark Knight is, as is traditional, very dark, and makes little noise when it moves.

At Clementine’s hip is Arondight, a witch-sword aligned with the Darkness element. It is simple, long, and unadorned, made of solid black metal, and its cut can inflict Slow on its targets.

---

Personality Traits:

Shy | Self-Doubting | Thoughtful | Fussy | Self-Destructive | Awkward

If you are injured, Clementine will fuss and fret and treat you to the best of his abilities. If you are noticeably upset, he will ask if there’s anything he can do. If you are about to march out into danger, some place where he can’t follow, he will go with you all the way to the door and watch you vanish over some distant hilltop. But he is not the kind of person who would extend that courtesy to himself.

Clementine works best and most confidently when following another person’s orders, and he works best as a tool, not a person. He has a bad habit of undervaluing or ignoring his own happiness or value, and if required to make decisions for himself, Clementine will um and uh and crumple with hesitation.

Clementine is somewhat starved for affection, and will brighten up noticeably at very simple acts of kindness.

Likes:

Flowers | Cronquist | White Magic | Home-Cooked Meals

Dislikes:

Attention | Arrogance | Pranks | Spoiled Rich Kids

---

Hometown:

Cronquist

Current Residence:

Thorne City

Occupation:

Monster Hunter

Backstory:

Tol Mannagan, the Dark Capital, central city of Cronquist, hung over Clementine’s childhood like cloudcover. The long black towers that peeked over the horizon, just out of reach, spoke of safety and knights and mages and untold possibilities, and when he was young, Clementine would sit on the hill in the center of town and watch the city’s silhouette, and he would think about all these things and more. Clementine and his family lived in one of the townships just beyond Tol Mannagan’s walls, and though it was safer there than in the provinces, safe, in this case, was a very relative word. By the time he was eleven, Clementine knew what it was like to have another child not show up to class one day, and never appear again.

Clementine was not a wanted son. That isn’t to say he was treated badly, or that his parents were unkind, but maybe they kept him at arm’s length more than most parents would, and maybe they looked at him with a kind of wariness that left long, thin wounds on the preteen Clementine. Sometimes he heard them talking in low and serious voices over the kitchen table late at night, when they thought he was asleep.

Cronquist, Clementine’s home for nearly twenty years, was a country at war. Unkindness was expected, and kindness was measured almost exclusively in lives saved, and, if not that, then days survived. The best and the brightest were warriors, or doctors, and the Dark Knight and the White Mage were symbols of escape and prestige for every child in the country. Clementine, never a violent boy but urged on by the shadow of Tol Mannagan, decided at a young age that he would be a White Mage, he would, he really would, and when he turned fifteen, he left town for the first time in his life, and made the long and troubling journey to Tol Mannagan.

Clementine managed two straight years of study at the Academy of Mercy before dropping out. Despite his best efforts and his countless hours of work, nothing could make up for his complete lack of magical talent. Unwilling to go home, Clementine sought employ as a nurse in one of the Dark Order’s reserve battalions, and served under one of the few Dark Knights who, instead of going out alone, held a small military attack force under her command.

During the next few months of service, Clementine showed a certain affinity for Darkness that his Knight-Commander noticed, and she eventually recommended he enter Dark Knight training. This time, Clementine managed the full three years. Because, although Clementine was only ever an average Knight, only ever an average swordsman, only ever an average fighter, he could plunge himself into Darkness like no other student. He soon accepted his slow progress as a swordsman and athlete, and ultimately chose to focus on mastering Darkness itself. Soon, though others could dance circles around him, or duel him into submission, Clementine could fell giants in a single, Darkness-powered hit.

Upon graduation, Clementine set out alone, as most Dark Knights were known to do, and served quite admirably as a defender of the people, far too self-destructive to demonstrate the usual corruption and extortion even the best Knights would occasionally engage in. Though no more effective than many other strong and popular members of the Order, Clementine Haschwalden was thrust violently and wildly into the limelight one day on his first real test as a Knight—a behemoth in the Hud Province. Two others had been assigned to join him and, as the rookie, Clementine was expected to organize the civilians’ escape while the others fought. The behemoth was too much, however, and soon the beast had killed Clementine’s companions, torn through the township, and rained tooth and nail down on the villagers. Clementine, however, was there, Darkness ready, and with just three strikes the behemoth was cut down.

It took nearly a week to regain consciousness after the massive injuries his Darkness inflicted. When he woke up, to his blank and utter bemusement, ‘Clementine Haschwalden’ was suddenly a household name. He was the Giantslayer now, the Dark Knight who felled a behemoth in just three hits and saved hundreds of innocent lives. In reality, of course, the behemoth was worn from a battle with two other, more experienced Knights—but of course, that’s not what the people saw.

When he was fully recovered, Clementine was immediately sold out to the nation of Thorne by his government, who saw him as a useful political tool; the Giantslayer would go out into the world beyond, and he would demonstrate the might (and price tag) of Cronquist’s Dark Order, and cast the trade deals Cronquist relies on for food and supplies in a much more attractive light to outside nations. Unhappy as a soldier of the Thorne government, however, Clementine soon struck a deal with his superiors, and arranged to take on more down-to-earth monster hunting as his main source of income and publicity. He didn’t want to be cooped up in the palace like a luxury item, dispatched only when the monster was dangerous enough to warrant his price tag. He wanted to there, here, now, out and about, seeing people and doing things and filling his hands with something real and concrete.

Clementine spent the better part of a year and a half wandering Thorne in a kind of publicity tour. Though he would always love his home in Cronquist, the rolling brown hills and soft yellow grass, the scrubby white wildflowers and the gray-white twilight, Clementine grew a soft spot for the more hospitable country of Thorne, and soon came to enjoy the time he spent as the dark and mysterious Giantslayer. Never one for socializing, he made few friends, though his efforts were, distrust-aside, largely appreciated. His wandering lifestyle was recently put on hold, however, after receiving orders to return to the Palace as additional security for the coming festival.

Other:

Left over from his training as a White Mage, Clementine has an unusual amount of endurance and stamina, and knows the rudimentary basics of weak Cures and Esunas.

Name: Sayuri Takashi
Title: “Wandering Blade” “Sword Saint”
Race: Half-Eldian
Job: Sword Saint
Age: 24
Gender: Female
Warrior of Light: No

---

Physical Features: Sayuri is tall at 6'4” with a lithe build and pale skin. She has midnight black hair and dark violet eyes. Her waist-length hair is almost always worn in a low thin ponytail tied with a pale blue ribbon otherwise it's just let down. Her chest is a B. Being Half-Eldian her neck and hands are normal length for her height. She still has the ears and slender build. She has a large X shaped scar crossing her back from shoulders to hips and tattoos of a black dragon along the top of her forearms with the head resting on the back of her hand.

Clothing/Armor/Weapons: Sayuri's casual attire consists of black leather boots, pants, a loose long sleeved button up shirt, fingerless gloves, and if the weather calls for it a worn black hooded cloak.

Sayuri's armor also doubles as her travel gear. She wears greaves, gauntlets and pauldrons in a Kimuran style that are black with a silver trim. She also wears a pair of armored plates on her hips. Under that she wears dark grey pants and a white shirt both made of spider silk to offer a little bit more protection from blades. She also usually wears her black cloak with it.

Sayuri wields a longsword like the one in this picture except the crosspiece, pommel, and design at the base of the sheath is dark purple. The small additions at the end of the sheath are also removed.

The only accessories that she wears are the pale blue ribbon in her hair and a blood red dragon head necklace.


Personality Traits:

Carefree | Calm-minded | Friendly | Explosive Rage | Trust is easily lost

Likes:

Fighting | Reading | Cats

Dislikes:

Cowards | Spicy Food | Dogs

---

Hometown: Thorne City | Thorne

Current Residence: N/A

Occupation: Sellsword

Backstory: Sayuri was born into a rather odd family in Thorne. Her Father was a Hume blacksmith and former soldier, while her mother was an Eldian immigrant from Kimura. They were rather poor and lived in a section of the city that reflected that. Despite this she grew up happy and well cared for. When she was old enough her father began training her with a sword to protect herself and she excelled at it learning everything he taught her very quickly. Seeing an opportunity in her ability to give her a better life. He took her up to the Paladin Order of Thorne and enlisted her. Though she was hesitant at first she grew to enjoy all she learned and she continued to excel at combat. There she made a handful friends and though she didn't climb the ranks quickly she was well liked by most people. After a few years though she was unsatisfied with just learning Holy Blade and began searching for more to learn. She soon found a few books on the Dark Blade and began teaching herself in secret as the Order looked down on it. She was caught a year later and was dismissed from the order. She left with no objections and began wandering the country. Eventually she ran into a mercenary group with all kinds of swordsman and joined with them. Over the years she learned as much from the others in the group learning more about Holy and Dark Blade and learning Spellblade and Bushido though she was far more skilled with the former two. After a few years she struck out on her own again as a lone sellsword. She spent about a year in her mothers homeland of Kimura under one of the more popular Warlords before moving on to Calestani. She settled down and lived there for the last three years finding well off merchant to work for. Due to recent events however she feels she needs to leave and move on. Knowing that the festival was coming up she decided to head to Thorne to visit her family, try to find a couple of old friends, and maybe even take part in the tourney while she was there. She got herself hired as protection for a merchant on his way to the festival and set out for the next chapter of her life.

Other: Rarely goes anywhere without a weapon of some kind. Her sword was forged using shattered pieces of both a Dark sword and Holy sword she previously used.

Name: Wen Taihou
Title: Wen Sifu (master/teacher, term of respect akin to sensei), The Drunken Dervish (in his youth)
Race: Hume
Job: Martial artist
Age: 38
Gender: Male
Warrior of Light: No

---

Physical Features:

Though he stands at a fairly respectable 6 feet tall, one could be forgiven for underestimating Wen Taihou given his rather portly appearance. His body wrapped in traditional Taisong clothes, he just undeniably looks rather fat, no two ways about it. If not for that, then his amicable, relaxed posture and expression combined with his glasses and funny moustache make for more of a friendly uncle type rather than an intimidating or dangerous man on a first glance. And Wen Sifu admits he has let himself go a little bit of late, having come to weigh more than 250 pounds, but there’s definitely more to him than meets the eye.

Simply a naturally rounded man, Wen possesses a powerful core of highly trained and developed muscle underneath a layer of fat that actually serves a purpose as natural padding against blows. Taihou sports the telltale signs of a dedicated fighter, as well. One may find a myriad of scars on him from head to toe and his skin is rough and leathery from conditioning and battle, much of his arms and legs are actually calloused into rock hard striking surfaces. His hands in particular sport bulging knuckles that look as though someone inserted pebbles into them and his fingers are as thick but dextrous talons.

Clothing/Armor/Weapons:

After a lifetime of training and fighting without them, Wen Taihou has no need for weapons or armor. His body has been developed for the right mixture of strength, speed, toughness, stamina and flexibility needed to best perform in combat, traits he has managed to retain even as he ages and gains in weight, and his martial arts expertise makes excellent use of his physical attributes. Clothing-wise he dresses in simple Taisong fashion, wearing a grey jacket that he typically carries open exposing a white undershirt, along with undecorated black pants and simple black cloth slip-on shoes. His glasses are nearly everpresent although of course he tends to take them off for a fight.

Wen Sifu practices his own version of the famed Monkey Fist. Originally educated in the simplistic but effective martial arts from the Three Peaks Valley where he was born, Taihou eschews much of the actual “monkey business” of the style and its acrobatics. Instead he employs flowing, stable footwork punctuated by bursts of explosive movement and favors hand and arm techniques, often focused on power generation at short ranges, mixed with primarily low kicks. With quite the eye for occupying the center line of attack and deflecting incoming offense, much of his monkey mannerisms center around wrestling and grappling with opponents to control them as well as delivering unexpected blows such as body checks, headbutts and even a few spinning or jumping strikes.

---

Personality Traits:

Honest to a fault | Seemingly always in good spirits | Loyal | Unyielding | Confident to the point of arrogance | Sarcastic sense of humor | Can be quite lazy | Adventurous | Surprisingly cold-blooded at times | Self-reliant | Nurturing, often in a tough love kind of way | Meritocratic | Critical | Polite |

Likes:

Combat | Strength | Excitement | Competence | Luxuries | Growth

Dislikes:

Cowardice | Weakness | Boredom | Magic | Overblown spiritualism | Stagnation

---

Hometown:

Nanchuu Islands (also referred to as the Nanchuu Kingdom), Kimura. A chain of islands to the southwest of the Kimuran mainland, they were once an important trade hub between Kimura and the now sunken nation of Taisong, a vast and storied culture that had made the islands into a tributary state in ages past. Kimuran lords, however, understood Nanchuu’s importance and conquered the land a few generations before the great flood. It did not come easy. The Kingdom possessed a particularly hard-nosed population with a strong martial culture, born from having to fend off pirates and all manner of undesirables for ages, and fought bitterly until a near stalemate was declared and they were guaranteed a high degree of independence.

Seeking to weaken the Kingdom in hopes of eventually bringing it to heel, the mainland laid down a restrictive decree as part of the peace negotiations: Nanchuu was not allowed to stockpile arms or armor. While the idea was to curtail rebellion and make the islands’ authorities reliant on forces from the mainland, the prohibition did not stop the development of combat skills in Nanchuu. Rather, it only managed to incense the warriors of the land and many travelled to Taisong to train and pioneered new schools of combat upon their return, often under the backing of the court. A number of methods based around the use of improvised weapons, chief among them staves, and a strong focus on body strengthening became the norm.

Nowadays the Kingdom remains ostensibly a vassal state of the mainland, but it is entirely a matter of status quo and their degree of independence makes them effectively a nation of their own. After the great disaster the islands took in a massive amount of Taisong survivors, making them the last bastion of a civilization that once rivaled that of Kimura itself, along with a variety of smaller diasporas from lands further east that could not be saved. The islands' culture is a strange mix, with Kimuran orthodoxy replaced in many areas by now firmly established enclaves and much intermixing between them all, and the state is now a parliamentary monarchy with representatives from all major groups within the Kingdom. Relationships with Kimura are cordial and mutually beneficial if somewhat tense.

While the old decree was abolished, Nanchuu now possesses its own standing army, its influence cannot be understated. Many a scholar believes that many a monastic combat tradition in Kimura actually come from Taisong by way of Nanchuu, while many other curious practices were developed within the islands themselves. The Kingdom is a hotbed for martial pursuits to this day, which has led to the creation of a most peculiar organization: The Institute for Martial Studies. An academy dedicated to the spread and preservation of martial arts, backed by a cadet branch of the Kingdom’s royal family, it is also concerned with keeping the rough and tumble the fighting culture of the land under control on some level.

Current Residence:

Nanchuu Islands, often struck by wanderlust.

Occupation:

Martial arts instructor, examiner for the Institute of Martial Studies, vagabond, sometimes masseuse and bonesetter to make money on the road. Not a real doctor, but he can relieve muscular or skeletal pains and similar ailments through massage and manipulation of joints and is also capable of restoring fractured or dislocated bones to their correct alignment.

Backstory:
Though he was born into a simple family of farmers from Taisong in Nanchuu, Wen Taihou had one distinct advantage when it came to rising out of his humble station. The Three Peaks Valley where he lived had a thriving, if generally ignored by outsiders, martial culture. The local fighting skills were simple and straightforward but quite practical, meant for self defense and tested in local grudge matches and against bandits and their ilk. It made for an excellent base for a young Taihou, who took to studying the arts like a fish to water. Even without a formal master, simply lessons passed down from family to family and little scuffles with others in the area, he became a noteworthy fighter.

Of course, a man of his gifts in an environment with little in the way of limitations is bound to stray from a righteous path. Wen Taihou, though still relatively good-hearted, soon earned a reputation for being a ruffian, a violent man who used his strength to bend others to his will and indulge himself in ill-gotten gains. Though it should at least be acknowledged that he never faltered in his martial studies and continued to train with great devotion, the damage his drunken brawls often caused soon earned him the nickname of the Drunken Dervish. Soon, however, his misdeeds caught up to him and he became a wanted man by none other than the Institute of Martial Studies.

What could've been the end of Wen's martial path, however, became a golden opportunity. The master who arrived at Three Peaks was Lau Sifu, a wanderer prone to working outside of the Institute's strict regulations. He was also an expert in several less than common fighting styles, and he was quite impressed with the young brawler even after besting him convincingly in their fight. Feeling at home in the valley, he decided against arresting or crippling Taihou and instead made him his apprentice. With his fighting urges under control, Wen began a process of growth and reform that both improved him as a person and greatly advanced his martial arts skills.

Feeling that the portly man could use a less predictable, brutally straightforward style, Lau educated him in the basics of the playful Monkey Fist. Rather than try and mold Taihou to the style, however, Lau instead encouraged his student to integrate and adapt its concepts to what he already knew. Together they developed a school all of their own, a distinct Monkey shaped by the Three Peaks, a mixture of strong foundations with unorthodox skills. Eventually, however, Taihou wished to leave his home, enamored with the dream of studying the arts of the many masters at the Institute surrounded by peers of many different schools. Lau Sifu wished to stay in the peaceful valley, but as a final gesture he granted his student a certificate marking him as an expert trained by his own hand and sent him on his way.

Wen’s dream, however, soon turned to disappointment. He was accepted in the Institute, yes, but his teacher was not particularly appreciated. Both Lau and now Taihou were seen as country bumpkins in a courtly environment, their schools ridiculed for lacking glorious lineage stories or flowery techniques meant to impress in exhibitions. He advanced in his martial studies and was eventually given a position as an examiner, tasked with testing the mettle of those who seek to enter the organization and those who call themselves masters, but found he received little in the way of recognition and no one was willing to train exclusively under him. He felt stuck.

With advancement within the Institute hierarchy seemingly well out of his reach, in time Wen Taihou grew bored and disillusioned with his situation in Nanchuu. Fortunately for him, his abilities grew in turn, and one day his rebellious spirit of old flared up once more. He would put his skills to good use, he swore to himself, and took to travelling the world on any possible occasion. He is determined to test himself and prove to everyone the validity of his martial arts. And what better occasion than the big festivities in Thorne?

Other:

Despite his skills, he is not some kind of invincible perfect athlete. He won’t beat a minotaur or similar creatures in pure weightlifting or sheer strength competitions, he won’t outrun athletes of similar caliber who train specifically to sprint or be more flexible than a cat burglar or gymnast. His body is built specifically for the purpose of fighting and that’s what he excels at, though he does have the cardio to engage in marathon-like pursuits.

Name: Cid Arvano
Title: The Master Mechanic
Race: Hume
Job: Mechinist
Age: 65
Gender: Male
Warrior of Light: Yes... and no.

---

Physical Features:

Cid stands about 6'2", although sometimes he slouches over a bit due to his old age, bringing him to about 6'1". For the most part, Cid stands up straight while fighting. He has fair skin, mostly unmarked from battle save for a few scars, the largest of which runs from his right shoulder to almost the center of his abdomen. The others are a scar from his right ankle to about halfway up his leg, going from the right side to the front, and a burn about the side of a baseball on his left shoulder blade. His hair is a grayish-white, slightly spikey on top, and refuses to grow below the tops of his ears. He is rather muscular for his age, allowing him to do a lot of physical activities some people in their 50's couldn't. His face is thin with green eyes and cleanly shaven.

Clothing/Armor/Weapons:

Normally, Cid wears a brown, almost turtle-neck shirt, reinforced with a thin layer of steel on the inside. Across his chest he has a leather bandolier holding several rounds for his custom shotgun. On top of both of those is a flashy red jacket with several gemstones inlaid into it, green to match his eyes. His pants are beige cargo pants, with steel knee pads and a pouch on either side. In one of the pouches he holds a pack of cigars, which he often smokes when he has the time, and in the other is a canteen with green tea in it, surrounded by some extra shells for his shotgun. His boots are regular work boots, decked out with some extra armor around the ankle and where the tongue of the boot would be. He usually has a pair of goggles around his head, not quite over his eyes, covering the bottom of his hairline.

While he is working on something he wears a white t-shirt, and an almost identical pair of cargo pants but without the armor on the knees.

Cid wouldn't be caught dead without his custom shotgun.

---

Personality Traits:

Direct | Vulgar | Kind | Smart | Sarcastic

Likes:

Inventing | Working on Airships | Traveling

Dislikes:

Being tied in one place | People who waste his time | When something he makes fails

---

Hometown:

Lucinnia|Thorne

Lucinnia is a city to the south-east of Thorne City, located in the perfect place to be an Airship Port to Kimura, Calestani, and Dahlgren. It's biggest product is tourism, as the nearby area has many landmarks and there are several famous pieces of art and inventions held in the local museum. The city was torn in half when the continents were ripped from the ground during the flood. Before the flood, the city was a massive merchant city.

Current Residence:

Allerstead|Calestani

Allerstead is a small hamlet on the outer edge of Calestani, opposite the Airship port that goes to Kimura. The residents are all specialized in building special, luxury airships. It was settled by Cid, and years later the other residents started to appear.

Occupation:

Inventor and Airship builder/captain

Backstory:

Cid was born in a moderately sized city named Lucinnia, where he grew up in an upper middle-class family composed mostly of merchants. He was spoiled and always got what he wanted. He once convinced his parents to get him swordplay lessons, but never continued the training after he lost his first sparring match. At the age of 11 he began to tinker with things. It seemed he found a hobby he wouldnt drop, so his parents bought him scrap metal on occasion and he began to model out some of his ideas with it. None of them quite worked... Yet.

At 14, he was chosen to be one of the original Warriors of Light, along with Roderick and Otreax. He immediately jumped at the idea of the adventure to seal the MageKing and left home to convene with the others. Upon meeting them he realized he was the youngest of the bunch, and that he wouldnt be of much help considering his lack of fighting skills. He was taught by Roderick to play the Flute during their travels, and often played it when they were all traveling and sometimes during small skirmishes with weaker foes. A Red Mage in the group attempted to teach him magic, but he had no aptitude toward it, the best spell he could cast was Fire, and it was more like the flame from a lighter. Speaking of, while with the Warriors, he picked up a habit of smoking Cigars, using his tiny Fire spell to light them.

Eventually they taught him to use a dagger, and he was instructed to preemptively wound enemies and finish them off toward the end of the fight, and also acted as bait to lure stronger monsters to the group. This tactic led to the scars visible on his body today. The burn on his back was from the final showdown with the MageKing. He had acted as bait, and the MageKing had struck him with Firaga, knocking him to the ground and burning his shoulder. After that fight Otreax sealed away the MageKing and ended the "War".

WHen the flood came and Lucinnia was torn in half, Cid was grief-ridden. He traveled to the city to find that his home, along with much more of the city, had been left behind on what was now the sea floor. When he discovered this he went into hiding for several years, while in hiding, he saw a few deficiencies in himself, his lack of fighting skill and inability to use magic. To solve these he created the firearm and small robots, able to fly and shoot flames or electricity, also bringing the advent of flying tech.

When he came out of hiding at the age of 17, he released his new inventions to the world. Well, firearms at least. The public adored them, making ranged fighting much more fast paced and exciting. A small company for the manufacturing of Firearms sprung up called Arvano Arms. They offered Cid to be the owner of the company, but he had bigger plans....

He went on to increase the scale of his flight tech to massive proportions, now able to transport people instead of small hunks of metal. His new invention? The airship. At the age of 29, he had built several functioning crafts with the help of some of his childhood friends who had survived the flood. He also met up with a girl he had known before leaving for the Warriors, Faria. Cid and Faria developed a relationship while he was working on the airships. When they were done, and the airships had been fully implemented into life as a way to travel the continents, they moved to the outer regions of Calestani and built their home there. They got married, and now have a grand-daughter named Cidney who is 19.

Cid and Faria still have their house in Allerstead, but they mostly travel in their airship-home. Cidney is now Cid's assistant and helps him build and upgrade airships and invent new things.

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Shotgun Grandpa