WIP [+]

Character Theme – For Victory!
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Inquisator Eramas

WRITEN PHYSICAL DESCRIPTION GOES HERE

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【Alias】
Nicknames? Codenames? Previous names?

【Human】


【Male】

【31】

【Hetero】

【Telchar】

【Church(loosely)】

【Warrior of the Church】

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【Personality】
What kind of person are they? Do they have any ticks? Etc etc.

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【History】
Please tell us about your character's history.

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【Skills and Abilities】
EXAMPLE SKILL - Hurls random examples at foes. Was born with this innate ability.

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【Weapons/Tools and Magic】
Please list your weapons n stuff. Save room for development.

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【Other】
Dialogue colour: Awesome blue

Sia [+]

Character Theme – The Wolven Storm/Violet Eyes
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Sia Amarill of Brohval

Sia isn’t a very tall or imposing woman, standing only at 5’5 and weighing a tad under 150lbs. Though her build is above average of the usual person, possessing that of a fighter and runner with strong muscles for swinging her sword. He hair is as black as the feathers of a raven yet are contrasted by her shining blue eyes. Her hair is almost constantly kept short, barely reaching past the top of her shoulder blades when let down.

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【Alias】
Sister Mercy, Ami

【Race】
Human

【Gender】
Female

【Age】
28

【Sexuality】
Straight

【Birth Place】
Brohval, Greyreach

【Nation/Allegiance】
Born in Greyreach but loyal to no nation.

【Profession】
Disgraced Sister of Virtue turned Mercenary/Bounty Hunter

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【Personality】
”Grant mercy to those who plead it but leave none for those who might strike you when you turn the other cheek.”
Idealistic - Kind - Generous - Trustworthy - Brave
Perhaps it may be a curse or a blessing, Sia’s kindness, for she believes that there is goodness and righteousness in everybody’s heart. At least, that is what she wants to believe. Sadly, she knows that the world is not so kind and pure and people are more willing to put a knife in someone’s back than to break bread with them. However, this has not stopped her from forwarding her goal of providing hope for people. It is her biggest fault perhaps, that she is so idealistic that she refuses to let such a world exist.

There is a rarely a moment when one could find Sia show any kind of hatred for another person, there is already so much hatred that there is no room for more in her eyes. She has never found herself downtrodden by the words or actions of others, simply showing remorse that the world is as such and that it needs someone to save it from itself. Perhaps, one of the oddest quirks of her is that she is quick to provide mercy yet quicker even to strike down a foe should they raise their weapon to her once more. Sia doesn’t show remorse for killing, it is the way of the world after all, however she will not kill someone who is innocent nor stand by if such is to happen before her eyes.

All are deserving of a burial, even those heinous murders who Sia has encountered once or twice in her travels. As such, she tends to express her wishes to have the body of the dead collected and buried, lest some beast come to devourer it and cause more harm to those that had just been saved. And perhaps, even beyond that, she is more a fool for trusting people more than she likely should on the base value of their words, though she is willing to change her mind when presented with information and evidence capable of contradicting a statement. Though there are some, such as guards, whom she puts her total trust in no matter what.

Foolish though she is, it extends even to battle for her training drilled into her the belief that there is nobody she cannot fight, no foe she cannot slay, even if it means dying in the process. There have been more than a few times when she had gotten in fights she shouldn’t possibly win, only surviving due to the help of other Sisters or hunters. Her bravery, or brash foolishness as others call it, drives her ever onward to fight against the injustice of the world and prove that there is good somewhere among the evil. Even if it means her death. Even if it means she is that only good.

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【History】
Sia was an orphan growing up on the streets of Brohval, a small trading town at the footsteps of the Reach which connected to a major dwarven hold. Life was difficult, the winters freezing cold and the summers rarely warmer. Her survival was only assured due to the orphanage established by a former Sister, Sister Angeline, after her retirement from combat. It was by the grace and mercy of Sister Angeline that Sia was allowed to grow up, by her grace that she was adopted as Angeline’s only daughter. It was Angeline who taught Sia how to write, how to write, how to count, but most of all it was her who gave her the inspiration to become a sister, to become a beacon of hope for good in the world.

Her first lesson into how cruel the world was came when she first became a squire at the age of 13, having been placed with Sister Gertrude as her Knight. Gertrude was a cruel and vicious woman, things had to be done perfectly and quickly or Sia would be punished for her impudence, mostly in the form of lashings or being forced to sleep outside for the night. This happened often, after all Sia was young and was a freer spirit back then. Many nights were spent outside before Sia realized that there was an order that all people had to follow, even her, if she wanted to survive. Sometimes you must follow orders you are not proud of, sometimes you are told to ignore the beggar for you have more important things to do. Of course, that didn’t stop her from sneaking out at night to help them anyway.

Combat training was rough on Sia, she was pitted again squires nearly twice her age at the start, to learn how failure tastes it seems. Gertrude stood over the young girl with a smug look every time she lost a fight, reminding her that she would have to get used to, that she wasn’t going to have a second chance to rise again in a real battle. Her body was bruised and sore, spending morning till night training and honing her skills. Perhaps she was improving slowly or it was just the fact that Gertrude had begun to focus her attention on another new squire. Either way, Sia found that she was pitted against others who were of equal skill to her or only a bit above and she started to grow.

Both physically and as a Sister that is. Her body became more muscle and less fat, she grew leaner and taller as she began to fill out her clothes and she grew out of her childhood clothes. She had always been cute as a teen, at least as the boys from Brohval had told her that is. However, now that she had begun to mature as an adult, she found that there were more men whose eyes were drawn to her and more would be suitors wishing to earn her hand in marriage. Of course, as a Sister, even in training, Sia had to turn away all who would ask for she was to serve the crown and Country and be bound to no man until she retires, if she retired. Soon Sia would find her mind taken off the aspect of the suitors as she and the Gertrude were mobilized south, towards barbarian lands owned by savage elves and humans.

The raiding season of the barbarians had started and the Sisters were needed to crush any attempts to assault the people of Greyreach. Sia had never seen a dead body and her arrival in the border village of Haver was a shocking experience for her, the bodies of both citizens and the few barbarians they managed to kill still strewn around the village. It was a sight she has never once forgotten in her life. But the Sisters had a job to do and the bodies would be in their way so she and all the others began the arduous task of burning them. None slept easy that night, not even the barbarians as the bonfire burned. It wasn’t long before they set out into the southern lands.

The battles were unlike any Sia had been trained in, the fights quick and intense rather than relying on wearing your opponent down. The barbarians went down easily but were far too quick for her to reliably hit, often ending up in the medic’s tent after every battle so she could recover from the dozens of minor wounds. It was a test of not only skill but of her mettle for Sia had to improve herself as she went on, learning how to intercept where her target is moving within the range of her blade, when to strike, and how to avoid the counter-attacks. It was until the end of their campaign that she had managed to stand her own against even a few of the barbarians. But she was alive.

SIa was given leave to visit Angeline after her campaign, to talk with her foster mother once more about all that she had learned and experienced. She was barely even twenty-one yet she had been deployed for the first time, Angeline had been worried sick of course, but the pair were more than happy to see each other after so long. Sia was to be made officially a Sister and assigned to a minor noble as his protector soon after, she wanted Angeline to be there. However, Angeline was growing older and more frail; she likely wouldn’t have been able to travel to the Capital for the ceremony even if she had the time. That week would be the last time she saw her foster daughter, passing away soon after and leaving all of her estate to Sia.

Sia’s life was rather uneventful until her ceremony, mostly spent time finding the children from her Mother’s orphanage a place to live or allowing those old enough and with enough training to run it while she was gone, after all some would have no other place to go than the place they had called home for so long. With her Mother’s estate placed in good care, she turned her attention towards the ceremony. She was one of fifty squire to become SIsters yet the public event had caused butterflies in her stomach, especially at the prospect of being assigned to guard over a noble. Yet, Sia found that the ceremony and gala afterwards were over in but a flash and she soon found herself already well on her way to Castle Faerand, a large town on the border of the Free City of Saph.

Perhaps it was by fate that Sia had been drawn to this place for she found that its warm weather and beautiful forests caused her heart to beat faster. Then again, it may have simply been the young Lord Faerand, Vincent, who she was to guard. Something about him was special to her, his bright green eyes and a smile that caused all to relax and feel at ease. Perhaps even it was the fact that he was refreshingly kind and straightforward, caring not for the Court’s politics and simply wishing to be among the people of the town below, as dangerous as that might be for nobility like him. They pair spent many days in each other’s company, walking through the gardens or traveling to and from the Capital after dealing with the Court.

It wasn’t long before Vincent professed his love for Sia and was subsequently shocked with the Sister ran from him, both in delight and in fear of what this would mean. Sia was a low born woman, even worse an orphan and only allowed to become a Sister because of her adoption by Angeline. Vincent was a noble, born and raised, and would be married away to another noble house, likely one of Saph, when his parents so wished. Their love wouldn’t be accepted yet Sia didn’t want to deny it. With an open heart she came to her Lord the next day and profess her love back and it was that night that they held each other in a closer embrace than either had ever experienced.

However, their love wasn’t meant to be as Vincent soon found himself in an arranged marriage with a woman of higher nobility from the Court of Greyreach, Lady Avandale. It wasn’t long before Sia and Vincent were separated for months, her left to guard Castle Faerand from thieves while the marriage was planned. When they were reunited once again, Sia found that Vincent was a changed man. His eyes were cold and he spoke only of how the Avandales had pressed his family into the marriage, likely wanting for their lands due to their proximity to Saph. That night, Sia did what she could to bring the light back to his eyes, finding nothing as he simply looked through the binding documents of his marriage.

However, it wasn’t long before the Avandales had found out about the pair and their forbidden love for Sia’s life was utterly turned upside down on what should’ve been a simple patrol. She found Vincent one morning simply sitting in his chair overlooking the garden, dead from poison, as the guards came rushing to arrest her. Lady Avandale claimed that she had heard from a maid that Sia planned to kill Vincent for betraying her, for marrying Lady Avandale when he said she was his one love. SIa was taken away to the Council to face reprimands from the Sisters. It was over quickly for the account of a noble was worth more than the denial of a commoner.

Sia was stripped of her title, her estates, and any income from being a Sister; all to be given to the Avandales as reparations for her crimes. All she had left was her armor, her sword, and her memories of her mother and the children. Soon, she was exiled until she had proven herself to be of worth to the Crown once more, set off into the Free City of Saph to make what she could of her life. Sia survived purely off of the money she made as a bounty hunter and mercenary, working for whatever coin she could scrounge up as she traveled through the lands. It was by luck or destiny that she found her way to Telchar.

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【Skills and Abilities】
Adept Swordsman - Sia’s skill was built on bruises and years of training, not to mention the nights spent in the infirmary from how many times she got cut in combat. She is a better swordsman than the average swordsman, having been a knight, however she is certainly nowhere near the skill of a Witcher in combat.

That… isn’t the target- Sia could never quite do well in combat with a bow, often missing her foes by at least five feet and sometimes even grazing her allies. It is possibly due to the amount of time she spent training with her sword and shield that she managed to become so bad at her performance with a bow.

Hold Fast- Sometimes the best choice in combat is to weather the blows with one’s shield or a parry, a lesson Sia learned well. She mostly focuses on deflecting blows with her shield and waiting for the right moment to strike, occasionally lashing out to parry a blow and knock back an unsuspecting attacker.

Bandages and Poultices- Sia’s medical training was rather minor compared to that of the Sister’s of Kindness, knowing only that there are some plants which are helpful for keeping wounds clean, to use clean water to wash a wound, and to wrap it in a bandage to keep out mud and other filth.

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【Weapons/Tools and Magic】

Iron Arming Sword- Sia has had the weapon for the long time and the wear on it is is obvious, the leather of the weapon’s grip beginning to dull in color from the amount of use. However, the blade has been well kept, sharpened and cleaned every night due to Sia’s training.

Oaken Heater Shield- The shield is rather new, compared to Sia’s sword, for it was only recently bought at a market. Thus far it has held up well, the leather covered wood good for blocking hits.

Armor- Sia’s armor is actually rather light, at least for a former knight, as much of her plate couldn’t be taken with her when she was exiled. She was allowed to keep her iron breastplate, sallet, and chainmail. However, she was also provided her grey and black doublet and leather riding boots, all of which she typically wears.

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【Other】
Dialogue colour: Bright Blue
Sia's back is scared from wounds she had in her only campaign to the barbarians' lands and the lashing she recieved as a squire. She carries a necklace of silver in a pouch on her belt that she received from Vincent.

The Kingdom of Greyreach [+]

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Long had Greyreach been a mystery to those who may call it their neighbor, having shut its borders to all but a select few nations for almost a century, supposedly due to a reform which the nation had begun to undergo as its new Queen took the throne. None can say for sure if the stories that those few who left the kingdoms as supposed refugees are true; the stories of a rising of a dark God which they were forced to worship. However, when their borders reopened in the last twenty years, the Free City of Saph found that little had truly changed in its neighbor, the most major change being the creation of the Sisters of Virtue. The Sisters were an Order of Knights loyal to the Queen or Lord they were assigned to and took a vow of chastity and poverty.

The Cult of Tibur supposedly took root during the time in which Greyreach was cut off from the rest of the world. They are said to worship a ‘Dark God’ named Tibur who descended from the Reach in the weeks after Queen Shassa took the throne. IT is said that he whispered of visions of a world united under his blood, united to worship his children in the Reach. Those who told stories of the Cult never gave a single, unified answer though. Some said he was a monster which had long been asleep in the Reach, woken by the Dwarves mining and having descended to claim his rule over the Kingdom of Greyreach. Others claimed he was a man from across the mountains, from a far away land, who used lies and trickery to make the people believe he was a God.

Summary: Greyreach is a mountainous Kingdom filled with all of the races. Ruled by Queen Shassa and her human husband, King Aidak. Supposedly worships a Cult of a dark god. Had been shut off from the world for almost a century, having recently opened in the past 20 years. During that time, the Sisters of Virtue were established to serve Queen and Country, thus allowing women to serve as Knights in battle.


Queen Shassa Faerl, first of her name and Ruler of Greyreach

Niavak [+]

Character Theme – Scholar of the First Sin
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NIAVAK DELTHRANE

Standing at about average height, he boasts a build befitting that of a speedy swordsman. His muscular tone leans towards use of agility, rather than strength. His dirt snowy hair is lazily slicked upwards, falling downwards in random, and erratic positions. His hands are calloused, the sign of a man whom takes his training seriously. He almost always drapes his black, graying cloak, around himself fastened by an unknown, shimmering crest.

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【Alias】
Pale Swordsman.

【Race】
Human.

【Gender】
Male.

【Age】
24.

【Sexuality】
Demisexual.

【Birth Place】
Unknown; Forgotten.

【Nation/Allegiance】
Neutral.

【Profession】
Sellsword/Mercenary.

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【Personality】
For a sellsword, Niavak is a cordial individual, perhaps much too much for his own good. He treats anyone he speaks with respect, only taking that away if that person had proven they did not deserve it. He has a certain charisma to his speech, easily promoting acquaintances to a sort of odd friendship at times. Though he is friendly, he will not take real threats targeted towards him sitting down, and almost always readies to defend or fight for himself.

At rarer times, melancholy can be evidently present across his features. Always trying to remember his hazy, unknown past when he can, only to be met by the physical, and mental pain it wroughts whenever he does so. He always wonders what his purpose will be after managing to complete his swordsmanship, he has little idea of how he was in the past, so much so that he has trouble pacing himself on how he should act, feel, think. How he acts now may not be how he had acted in the past. Thoughts like these always leave him in a daze of confusion, and identity crisis. It is difficult to ascertain his past but he always tries to do so when he is able to, actively visiting sites of the scant memories he manages to recall.

If asked about beliefs, he tends to stay silent, allowing the other individual ramble, while providing little to no speech from his end. He doesn't mind people believing in the sea god Manannan, while he himself doesn't really have any faith in said god. Mostly stemming from his childhood; the moment where he had forgotten his past, being forced to rely on himself to put food on the table. As such he chooses to believe in himself to get things done rather than others, and certainly not gods.

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【History】
Niavak had suffered from amnesia, not remembering much of his past. The scant memories he can recall are hazy, and results in a throbbing headache when he tries to remember. Most of what he can remember was a man, who donned a similar cloak with the same crest as Niavak. Moments of almost spartan-like training comes and go. The final, strongest memory is him on a wooden ship, fighting against a raging storm; he remembers the familiar figure shouting at him, before endless black. Oddly enough, he remembers being disgraced for a 'sin', but he has trouble trying to place his memory. Whenever the opportunity presents itself, he travels to places he 'feels' he is familiar with, as an effort to try and remember his past.

Growing up after finding no one but his lonesome was difficult to say the least. The only thing being left to his name was a cloak, and a beautiful sword that shimmered a mesmerizing blue. Being of unknown origins, many villages, in best cases treated with him utter disregard or contempt leaving him to do his business, at worst cases he was chased out due to superstition. Though at the time he failed to remember anything about the past, his body remembered his training. This was made evident when an individual attacked him whilst on the road, screaming at Niavak to lay down his weapon, and he may leave with his life.

He was initially fearful until his body moved away from an obvious, too large swing. The bandit's eyebrows lifted, and he kept swinging madly only for Niavak to deftly weave out of the way right before the hits could land. He was blessed that day as the bandit proved he had little to no training with the way of the sword. Niavak's body slowly began to recall his training. Wielding the sword was like attaining a limb he once lost. At the end, having suffered minor cuts, and bruises, he stood victorious over the bandit. He was unconscious, his body sliced up. The man still breathed raggedly, for better or for worse. Niavak looted what little the man had on his person, including his crude, clearly neglected blade and went on his way.

In present day, he acts as a sellsword or mercenary, taking on different odd-jobs strewn about the great continent of Aridia. He could be an escort, guarding important figures as they traversed through the lands. He was once a trainer for a short amount of time, trying to teach his swordsmanship. In other times, he is chosen to slay monsters as a pseudo-replacement if Witchers were not currently present.

For unbeknownst reasons, something from within pulls at him to complete his unfinished swordsmanship. He has little idea why this was so. His main drive is travelling the land in search of great swordsmen and swordswomen. To study under their tutelage if possible, or duel them to ascertain their styles, and possibly implement them in his own. After a decade of wandering, trying to appease his insatiable desire to 'complete' his swordsmanship has earned him name or moniker as the 'pale swordsman' amongst the great practitioners, often being the subject of curious talks when said great practitioners gather.
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【Skills and Abilities】
Adept Swordsman - Niavak's skill with the blade is what the untrained eye might call 'graceful', to the trained eyes who have witnessed this, most have usually commented on it's finesse, noting that it has little to no wasted movement. His own personal style of swordsmanship has been incremented by various styles of the sword during his travel. He has hit a wall, being unable to transition to mastery, however feeling very close to surpassing the shell of mastery. He also enters the odd tournament to test his prowess at times.

The fastest tend to live - His swordsmanship is focused on parrying, or moving out of harms way in time to deliver a devastating counter attack in the small window when they recover. His eyes are trained to notice the 'follow-through', or otherwise the wind up and wind down of each attack. In turn he makes his attacks fast, and limiting them have a smaller wind down. However this type of attacking tends to take time as he is required to observe his opponent to familiarize himself with their way of attacking, and defending.

Apprentice 'Hunter' - Due to him needing to take odd jobs for his well-being, he eventually began taking jobs that Witchers would normally take. He has basic, and rudimentary understanding of hunting creatures that go bump in the night. Not quite on the same level as a Witcher, of course, but with time he can get there himself.
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【Weapons/Tools and Magic】
Niavak dons a basic armorset, a breastplate, shoulder-guards, and leather gauntlets. Underneath is a red tunic laced with chainmail. His only other apparel is his black cloak, always draped over his shoulders. The armor is light, allowing him to be more nimble and faster than normal.

He carries two swords on his back, one that he always had on him; 'Shatter', a steel longsword that shimmers blue under the night light. Recently he had acquired a silver sword, naming it 'Tremor', specifically purchased to deal with creatures request that pop up frequently.

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【Other】
Dialogue colour: Dark-ish turquoise?
Has a decent singing voice, and can play the lute with some level of proficiency.

Dwarf Hunter [+]

Character Theme – [url=LINK]TITLE OF MUSIC[/url] <OPTIONAL<
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<OPTIONAL<

Keggar Stoutstride

Keggar has the quintessential Dwarf look. Brown beard reaching past his chest, bulky nose and rosey cheeked. His skull is thick and his muscles are thicker, barrel chest covered in scars. His arms are so long and burly they're almost apeish, with large hands to accompany them. His beard is braided with two brass rings that he intertwined his hair in when he couldn't fit them on his thick fingers.

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【Alias】
StoutStride

【Race】
Dwarf

【Gender】
Male

【Age】
97

【Sexuality】
Straight

【Birth Place】
Mahakaman

【Nation/Allegiance】
Mahakaman/The Wilds!

【Profession】
Big Game Hunter

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【Personality】
Keggar's what some might call rambunctious. Eccentric even! Oh, he's got the usual Dwarven traits. Grim and hard, but boisterous and full of cheer when there's drinks to be had. However, he's got a beast inside him. A beast that makes him hunt other beasts. There's a ferocity to his intentions. At times he'll snarl instead of glare, or freeze and focus instead of flee. Some say Keggar has spent too much time out in the wild, or too much time living in the bottle (guilty of both). Though that being said, he's not bad with company as long as they're loyal and don't mind his odd quirks and mannerisms.

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【History】
Keggar was born in the Dwarven city state of Mahakaman, to two conservative Dwarven parents. His father was a banker, and a damned good one too. His mother baked, cooked, cleaned, and ran a small guild for gossipers, helping her husband with potential gains through word of mouth. All they needed was a son, and after being married for a mere 30 years, they produced a rock of a child they dubbed Keggar. He'd grow up and live up to the name, for eventually he could out drink his father!

He grew up being groomed for soldiery, learning a bit of his father's trade and some culinary skills from his mom as well. It was exploration that truly called to him, however. They'd traveled a bit, his father showing him human Nordlings and their settlements on business. But it wasn't enough, truth be told. He'd always look into the forests, or the deep caverns even his kin dared not dwell, seeing vasts worlds down there, and things to kill!

He joined the Mahakaman guard around his 50th birthday, when the lad became a proper Dwarf and his beard reached his waist. He fought a few scuffles and killed a few bandits here and there. It was when he was given duty on Mount Carbon that his life changed forever. A great beast it was! Attacking the caravan was a wolf the size of a wagon! Roaring with spittle flying about, it gutted a Gnome and a Dwarf lass before Keggar ended its life with a well placed Axe to the skull.

The Caravan was so grateful, not only did they give him booze, but he got laid! And he skinned the great beast as well, selling the hide for a tidy profit. His father was so proud of him, and though he wished Keggar could stick to soldiering, he did give him his blessing when Keggar announced he'd become a freelance hunter. For the next 40 years, he applied his craft, killing the occasional witcher beast, but mostly large game throughout the North. He joined merc crews every now and then for the extra coin, his traps coming in handy in capturing bounties or sending enemy forces in disarray.

But even for one as long lived as a Dwarf, things could get boring sometimes. The Northern wars gave him no joy save the coin in his pocket, and the beasts were becoming complacent. He spent 5 long years in a melancholy until he heard tell of a new continent, and the next year he raised the money to gain passage on whatever ship would take him! The rest, as they say, is history.
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【Skills and Abilities】
EXAMPLE SKILL - Hurls random examples at foes. Was born with this innate ability.

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【Weapons/Tools and Magic】
Please list your weapons n stuff. Save room for development.

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【Other】
Dialogue colour: Earthy
AOB

All I need to do is list skills and tools. Other than that, he's done. I'll finish him before work tomorrow.

I'm working on my witcher. Witchers are cool they have a meddalion that allows them to do anything they want.