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Hidden 6 yrs ago 6 yrs ago Post by Fallenreaper
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Name: Holly Amanda Knight

Age: 24 years

Gender: Female

Race: Human (Soon to become Nephilim or Pure depending on IC)

Sub-Class: Latent Psychic

Description:


Holly is described as an attractive and tall Caucasian woman, reaching above the average height at five foot and nine inches (175 cm). She often leaves her sandy blonde hair, mixed with shadows and highlights, to hang down past her shoulders. When in the field, she will tend to bundle it up into a ponytail to keep it out of her grey-blue eyes. Over the years in training, her petite figure has put on some muscle definition giving her great cross-country skills to run down criminals. Her aura gives off a confident, serious air that is often confirmed by her personality. For the most part, her skin is absent of any blemishes, tattoos or piercings, but she does have two small identical birthmarks. Their blotchy shapes rest just under her shoulder blades, only darkened recently to be visible.

Being a recently promoted detective, her uniform includes a polo shirt and slacks rather than the standardize uniform of her patrol years. However while on duty she still ensures to include a vest, gun, holster and a spare clip because while her tasks have changed, the danger hasn’t. She is still surrounded by the same criminals and risks as before. When off duty, she prefers practical and casual wear. Often tank tops or tee-shirts with jeans and a belt that adds a tomboy charm to her feminine looks. On the rare occasion, she can be coaxed into a slimming black dress, topped off with the minimal makeup of lipstick, eyeshadow, and liner. She will not do blush or concealer. It just feels weird and weighty on her face. In harsher elements, Holly will wear a short, women’s trench coat which has become well known by her friends and family. She can’t help but love the badass noir feeling she gets when wearing it.

History: Holly will honestly admit she didn’t have an exciting or amazing childhood. Foster and she were both born in the small commuter town named Ambax. Both parents had jobs in Loom, a bustling and sleepless city just a few hours drive away. Grant Knight, her father, was an officer of the city’s police department and involved in what most considered a high-risk job. He came from a long line of police, a few aunts, uncles, and even her grandfather all served in the public. On the other hand, his wife, Esme, worked full time at Grandiose Dawn Hotels on the outskirts. While both made slightly above minimum wage, they made ends meet providing comfort for their two children. Despite the air of comfort surrounding them, Holly couldn’t help but sense the tension between the two. Her mother secretly worried whenever her father went work through she hid it well through fake smiles and soothing words. This was often followed by relief when he returned, safe and sound, at the end of each shift.

The girl never understand how she could sense these things, mostly feeling like a gut instinct. When she got older, it seemed to fade or she simply learned to ignore it.

She couldn’t help but admire her family’s bravery from a young age, her motivations driven by their stories on patrol. When she becomes an adult, Holly learned her father’s often left out the harsh realities and failures the job brought with it. However, she remained grateful to him for his experience. It drove her to want to become a cop in Loom. In the background, she failed to see the apprehension in her mother’s worried eyes whenever she excited spoke about her dreams. This would come to a conflict one day.

When she finished secondary school, Holly applied for Police College immediately and learned it was a difficult process. Over the six months, her application was ‘lost’ at least three times before she went through both mentally and physically stressful tests. Interviews were the worse because while she continued to give straight, conclusive answers the interviewer always asked her to elaborate. It was a mental war to keep her thoughts straight and accurate every time. One thing that could be said about the Knight family, they were stubborn.

A trait she inherited through the generations.

A week after acceptance letter arrived, Holly was smacked by a vision while home alone. Powerful and vivid, Holly watched her father seated in his patrol car going over some paperwork before a stranger approached him. It ran like some muted movie in her head. They seemed familiar with each while they appeared to engage in a conversation. Finally, her father’s expression turned to concern as he stepped out of the car, aiming to follow the stranger. Every fiber of her instinct was screaming for him to get back in when the figure raised a gun at his back. The gun’s bang broke the silence of the scene causing her to scream. It was all over in seconds. Foster burst into the living, her figure already crumbled to the floor and shaking. It took hours for him to call him down before she explained what happened.

Without evidence, he hesitated discarded the vision as a result of stress. Then the phone rang. Holly would never forget the horror on her brother’s expression when he was informed their father had been shot and taken to the hospital in critical condition. Hanging up, he told her to stay put while he retrieved their mother. The day was among the hardest experiences she ever faced in her life. Waiting slightly killing her slowly as she paced the apartment, the worst rushing through her head. The morning after, mother called to inform their father was stable. The bullet ruptured missed anything important but he was on leave until he healed.

Through her father was stuck in a wheelchair for a while, he refused to allow it to get the better of him. He also refused to allow his daughter to postpone her life for him. The same couldn’t be said about her mother. With the shock and near loss of her husband, Esme’s fear had her pleading that Holly reconsidered her career choice. Their fighting became worse when she refused to listen. Gradually, it drove Holly out of the house into Loom where she got an apartment with two old schoolmates. She finally found it harder and harder to stand the talks with her mother altogether. A connection between them severed beyond repair. The next year was challenging, finally accepted into the Police College, as the days passed into a blur. Martial arts training, basic law studying, riots practicing and more pushed her to her limits then back. She would be lying if she didn’t think she was going to fail at some point, but continued to push onward. She was amazed by the end of it all, she managed to survive.

Of course, her family was extremely proud to hear it, especially her brother and father. Through her mother was on ill terms with her, the rest of her immediate family still managed to remain close to her and keep tabs on her progression. Her father even prepared her by warning the most challenging part was still coming. Sadly, Holly fell under the delusion all rookies did which hid the grim truth about her would be the job.

After being placed into Loom’s Police Station, her ideas were quickly crushed under the watchful eye of a Field Training Officer James Harrison. Having served in the department for nearly a decade, he held a serious air about him and done things strictly by the book. The latter trait nearly drove Holly mad over the next four months and two weeks. Most the training was patrolling established routes in well known dangerous parts of the city, writing parking tickets, and handling domestic crimes. The whole time… she had Harrison grumbling over her shoulder about her work.

She was so happy when it came to an end.

The first week officially on Patrol, things seemed normal. She got into a familiar pattern often, sometimes twelve, hours a day for her patrol schedule around Loom. Things were normal until the second week. Suddenly the whole department’s attitude shifted against her. Her superiors kept jerking her shifts from day to night or vice versa with little warning. Sometimes she was forced to work a double shift in the worst areas of Loom or graveyard sectors, where nothing happened. The worst part was the fact she found several male officers refused to work with her over cases. Oddly enough it brought to her attention how few females actually ever made it to this point, sensing they viewed her to be inferior because of her gender. Without another protecting her back, she was often placed on the desk, evidence locker or station duty. At this point she found herself missing the first week and even Harrison’s behavior. Mostly because he didn’t treat her like dirt, just inexperienced.

During her third year, she put an application up for a promotion toward detective. They were sorely lacking officers from what she heard and it had to be better than patrol. The Captain, Dubois, raised his eyebrow in question when she submitted the paperwork for it. She could sense the disdain rolling off him in her direction but managed to hold a neutral expression. Lying through his teeth, he said he would file it then dismissed her. The moment she left, Holly could already sense him shredding it.

Both rattled and concerned, Holly decided to consult her father over her suspicions. This required heading back home for the first time in a few years. The tension building felt like it would explode her insides the moment she walked through the apartment, her eyes spying that almost nothing actually changed. Spending actual free time with her old man, the man retired shortly after his accident, brought nostalgia into her heart. She wasted little time sitting down to inform him about her boss’ behavior and the more recent changes in the department. While he didn’t fully discard her verbal worries, there was little physical proof to back up her suspicions making it impossible to prove it.

Through it hurt, Holly silently agreed.

Disheartened, but determined, she finished the visit with her father before departing. Time seemed to have gotten away from her as on her way out, her mother had returned from shopping and nearly collided with her. The two paused in mid-step, sizing each other up. Tension filled the air enough to suffocate Holly causing her to be the first to move. As she bent down to retrieve the fallen bags, she felt a pair of arms suddenly wrap around her and pull her close. Her mind went numb with surprise. It took her several moments to realize it was her mother. Even longer to hear her crying quietly, whispering familiar words of love. It seemed time does mend broken things, Holly thought in a slightly amused tone.

At the age of twenty-four, she finally got her promotion in the corrupted department. It seemed her family -her father likely- had called in a few favors and gotten attention on her application before it was shredded.

Holly couldn’t say she was completely prepared for how chaotic a detective’s life was, not that she regrets it. She was assigned to an older detective named Lucas Berger. He was the type of detective the average Joe could sit and have a drink with, charm setting a relaxing atmosphere without causing you to fly off the handle and punch his face in. His teaching methods and patience made her feel less alienated compared to the prior experiences in the department. Sadly, she could easily see he got subtle shit time to time about from a few bigots in her department. It was expected in a career dominated by alpha males. Despite their narrow views, Holly’s skills and resistance slowly won the worthwhile ones over.

During her training with Berger, she learned that detective never actually had any days off officially. Especially in Loom, the worst criminal city in Europe. Every night and day, Holly was expected to work on anywhere from five to ten cases at a time. Going through the steps C to Z after the patrol cops finished their rounds. Her social life, not that she had much of one, suffered from it. There were perks about the job that kept her on. The intimidate working with the victims gave her a whole new experienced compared to patrol. Instead of merely handling the reporting of the crime, her job detailed solving, investigating the motivates and ultimately informing the victims about the good or bad news. It enhanced her importance in a way, even increasing her sense of humanity.

On the sixth week, a recent crime caught her attention. A missing person. Its profiling fitted a prior case she experienced in her patrol years causing her to look into it. Of course, it didn’t help her nagging feelings returned with a vengeance. At first, the crimes had little in common until she started to trace the victim’s background. They were both females, in their twenties, and went to the same secondary school. As a patrol officer, she didn’t have access to the victims’ files leaving the connection easily missed. Following her gut, Holly purged deeper finding more cases over the last twenty years.

Placing her detective position on the line, she managed to convince the Captain to allow her to focus on the case. To prove they were all connnected. She suspected he wanted to see her fail. The first day off (still on call), she wound up attacked by… something.

Abilities/Skills:

  • Case, Law, and Paperwork Skills: Knows the inside outs of the Law in these three areas and dealt with detailed, lengthy paperwork for her years on the force. It’s ingrained so deeply, it's infiltrated her verbal and social interactions, causing her to instinctively chose her words carefully and with more detail than the average person.
  • Firearms Training: Knows how to respect, handle and fire various types of pistols like a PAMAS G1, SIG Sauer Pro SP 2022 series, Beretta, or Glock.
  • Computer Skills and Radio Communication: Computers and other technology have become ingrained into the police force’s daily tasks so she is required to know her way around a computer, even some slight hacking ability.
  • Body Language, Verbal Reading, and Substance Recognition: Has been taught to read people, through the body, words and even behavior. She can easily tell when someone is hiding something or lying to her face then address it accordingly.
  • Advanced Driving Knowledge: Able to chase a suspect through high traffic roads using one of three means of transportation (motorcycle, police car, or bike) without causing casualties. Situations vary, however.
  • Searching: Knowledge of how to properly search rooms, vehicles, and suspects for narcotics, weapons or other illegal items.
  • Defensive Tactics and Force Escalation: Trained in reading a situation, especially to note when it becomes intense and hostile. Her training gives her an edge in how to protect herself, her fellow officers and possibly de-escalate the situation. This includes martial arts.
  • Pain Compliance and Control: Has learned the effect of pain both on herself and others, enabling her to use it to her advantage through lawful means.
  • Suspect Restraint: She knows about pressure points, joint locks and pins in order to restrain a suspect enough to cuff them.
  • Pressure Thinking and Planning: Has been through intense situations from playing out scenarios to actual in field training, learning how to keep her head when thing go south.
  • Multi-Lingual: Knows how to speak in a conversational manner in three languages. Spanish, French, and English. Written, however, she only knows how to read French and English because of her parents.
  • Physical Condition: Trained to parkour, her stamina and speed are peaked to be able to allow her to outrun most civilians.


Latent Psychic: Clairvoyance

Holly is able to gain information about an object, person, location or physical event through vivid trances. She might not officially know the individual her trances center upon as they play in her mind like a surreal movie. At first, it started as vision only. Now her mind is able to capture the scents, sounds, and sights from a third person’s point of view. A witness to an event that could be happening in the past, present or future.

Limitations:

-Trances happen at unpredictable times, Holly is unable to control or feel them coming on before they take over her attention. They could be caused by touching an object, sleeping, or during even a simple conversation without warning. She can’t will them to happen when she wants.

-During each ‘vision’ her present sight gives away to the mini-movie playing, making her vulnerable during it. She can’t see or react to any present danger as she’s completely absorbed into the scene and its details. Lately, though, they have become like mini seizures whenever the vivid episodes happen.

-Images aren’t always straight-forward scenes. They might have clues to their locations, time or individuals, but it’s up to Holly to actually figure them out based on what she saw.

-Each vision is short and sometimes incomplete. They last up to a few moments or only have selective images, sounds, or more vague sensations colliding with each other. Even with detective skills, Holly can’t always fully understand their meaning. Sometimes she can’t even tell when it happens, leaving her with little reaction time and sometimes only able to deal with the fallout.


Notable Belongings:

On Person

  • Gun and Holster: On duty, SIG Sauer Pro SP 2022 series. Off-duty, Glock 22.
  • Protective Vest: 2 spare mags (all filled), taser, flashlight, and radio.
  • Badge: Identification as a Cop


In Police Car: blue four-door Renault Sedan, about five or more years old
  • Laptop: Police issued for paperwork, research, etc.
  • Yellow Evidence Tags
  • Pens and Paper Bags
  • Double stacked box: keeps the followed inside.
    • Box cutter
    • Scalpel
    • Blood test kit
    • Varies Powder for fingerprints
    • Black Gloves (several pairs)
    • Brush for powder
    • Cards for labeling
    • Sexual Assault Kit
    • Spray bottle
    • Q-tips
    • Envelopes Large
    • Scanning Electron Microscopic Kit: Gunshot detection kit basically


Hidden 6 yrs ago Post by Virani
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Hidden 6 yrs ago 6 yrs ago Post by Dracorex
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Name: Matthew Daniel Stanford (current name) / Michael/Mohannad/Mattathias (previous names) I don't use my middle name, please.

Age: 400 years (estimated) It's been a long time.

Gender: Male

Race: Demon(ically-infected human) To be honest, I'm not sure myself

Sub-Class: Vampire The term is much newer than the condition; 'demon', 'accursed', 'bloodsucker', whatever

Description: Lean and spare, Matthew has slightly sunken cheeks, overly prominent cheekbones, and a straight, sharp nose; he's slightly too underfed-looking, but his sharp Eurasian features, combined with that knowing glint in his cloud-grey eyes, do give him a roguish charm. He looks like a man in his mid-twenties, and stands at about 1.65m / 5' 5", with slightly curly black hair worn at almost shoulder length and chestnut-brown skin free of scars or blemishes. He dresses neatly and comfortably in muted colours; long-sleeved turtlenecks, long pants or jeans, in beige and pale grey and blue almost as much as in black. A great deal of black still features, most notably the knee-length longcoat he conceals his knife within. Such warm, skin-concealing clothes are his preferred wear regardless of the occasion, though he has the skill and means to turn out in formal wear suited to the most solemn and lofty events if he must. Must I?

Matthew carries himself with the easy grace of a dancer - or a panther. He's confident in his abilities, and seemingly perpetually amused by the day-to-day quirks of life, almost condescendingly so, but there is something in the genuine curiosity of his questions, in the small, wry smile on his face, something bright and heavy in his eyes, that suggests more. Though his eyes may literally gleam bright in the dark, light reflecting off his tapetum lucidum, which along with the fever-heat of his body are the only true hints of his inhuman truth.

History: Where he was from no longer matters; what his birth name was, what language his parents spoke, who his people were, all of it is as dust in the wind to him. The earliest event of meaning that he will acknowledge remembering, with bitter amusement, was when a demon-touched woman good as killed him by accident, and her brother gave him of their cursed life to try to save him.

Matthew loves Hadrianus like his own true elder brother, but he's not sure if he will ever quite forgive him.

They travelled together for some time, helping each other learn their new lives. Hadrianus was kind and compassionate and disliked not just violence but the very idea of hurting humans; Hava was proud and angry and wanted to be a good person like her brother. Matthew, who had learned to fight even before he got his blood-hunger, who found it deeply unfair that they had never really had a say in becoming what they were, who had never really believed in justice and goodness, Matthew turned from hunting animals to hunting human prey because life was meaningless and dead was dead so he might as well taste sweeter blood.

Hadrianus did not like it, and Hava did not like it, but Hadrianus of the Fortress was the kind of person whose door was always open no matter how much it hurt him, and Hava followed his lead, and Matthew could do what they couldn't because he knew how to fight and run and hide and live, so they argued and acquiesced and split paths and rejoined each other as immortals are wont to do, once they have realised that they have eternity to wait for the other to change their mind.


Why do I have to talk about this?

And here Matthew Stanford is now, in Loom, because here is the hub of the supernatural, lurking behind the doors and beneath the streets, and if Adrian and Haven Castle are to be found anywhere in the world, here they likely will be.

Abilities/Skills: The first and foremost ability of a vampire is that they are usually human in appearance, in all ways save for the fever-warmth of their skin and the cat-brightness of their eyes in the dark. When confronting prey or enemy, however, their fingers may twist into claws fit for rending flesh and their teeth sharpen for tearing bites. This mild physical alteration is voluntary for all vampires save neophytes, of which Matthew is not.

Strength and speed are significantly heightened in vampires, the better for them to hunt their prey, and they usually become stronger and faster with time. Matthew is fast enough that he is a blurred flash over short distances, and strong enough that a brick wall is a minor nuisance. Vampiric resilience is such that he sleeps only about four hours each day, and a donation of blood from a human will satisfy his hunger for about two days, while their regenerative capability is such that few wounds can trouble him for longer than an hour or two. Any injury inflicted by the burning touch of silver or gold, of course, is another matter entirely.

There is something in a vampire's bite that lulls their prey, fogging their thoughts and slowing their reactions. There is something to a vampire's senses, that their hearing is very keen, and faint scents are still sharp to their nose. There are other such subtleties that come with time; Matthew has learned that he can move silently with little care, and learned that he can feel the light thrumming presence of blood in any nearby beings, feel the burning of power within those veins as a warning of difficult prey, and he thinks that with time and cruelty, he might learn to make all that blood do his bidding.

Will I, one day, get to puppeteer people around like Katara and Hama? I can only hope.

But for now he will make do with his skill at the longsword and the knife, with his makeshift skill at small firearms, and with his firm belief in never picking a fair fight. He has a keen enough mind, especially when applied as a mix of careful forethought for a particular goal and bold improvisation, combined with his general thirst for knowledge. He has a sharp eye for reading people, or at least, it takes one liar to know another. And when push comes to shove, he is both very good at causing pain and at enduring pain, because at the end of the day, if Matthew is anything he is a stubborn, remorseless, sadistic bastard.

Notable Belongings: Matthew likes to be well-prepared, and his personal effects reflect it - a Glock 19 tucked into his belt, while two wallets and various pockets contain half a dozen debit cards, significant amounts of cash in three different currencies, travel documents made out to two different identities, a smartphone with nothing truly of importance on it, a small notebook with contacts and notes written in his native tongue, and a couple of spare magazines.

Concealed within his coat is a knife the length of his forearm, with a plain leather sheath and a gleaming black blade. Its name is Contempt, and when it strikes a foe, it carves away at their aura, draining them of the powers that make them superhuman until they can rest, feed and replenish their aura; against a normal human, it is only a knife. The demon-forged weapon takes power from Matthew in order to steal from others in turn; in a prolonged fight the vampire himself will also gradually weaken to human levels. Paid for in flesh and blood, in memory and spirit, Contempt is practically an extension of Matthew; it will burn the hand of anyone else who tries to take it, and will dissolve to ash upon the death of its owner.

More generally, a combination of having found a banker he can trust, decades upon decades of investing his money, and a general accumulation of possessions from cycles of self-indulgence, paranoid planning, and self-imposed asceticism, means Matthew is obscenely wealthy, owns properties in several cities, and actually has concerns with which to occupy his time beyond his search for family and meaning.

I know you want to know where I got Contempt. You shouldn't even know I have it; I'm not a new-turned whelp waving it around waiting to get killed. Suffice to say that I made a deal, the price was fair, I don't recommend the experience, and no, you don't get to know the details.

I also feel that I should mention that this is hardly a comprehensive list of weapons I have access to, much less the actual scope of my wealth. But an exhaustive list of what knives and guns I'm hiding where bores me.


Current Situation: Fairbanks had advised Matthew against venturing into Loom. The city had some interesting local initiatives, but the dangers of so much as a three-day holiday, much less living there for the foreseeable future.... "The city's crime rate is alarming, sir, but that wasn't what I meant. Loom has a certain reputation for attracting the particularly amoral and cutthroat, if you'll forgive my phrasing, and this reputation spans both sides of the masquerade. If you intend to maintain a low profile, it may actually be the more dangerous approach."

But here Matthew had wanted to come, so here he was. With young William in tow, helping him pick out furniture for the new apartment, update him on current affairs, and provide blood once every two months. What the vampire was going to do for blood every two days until the next time was up to him to figure out. There were homeless people in just about every city in the world, so he hadn't worried.

Except now he was revising his opinions. The beggars knew a great deal, as the invisible downtrodden often did, so he hadn't had to worry about surprising them with his inhuman nature, because this was Loom. What did matter was that many of them would have nothing to do with his ilk, not even for food and money, because this was Loom.

So one and a half months since his arrival, Matthew was having to go further and further to find another individual willing to bargain. And then the incident happened.

He'd noticed a police detective who thrummed with power, who was talking to the homeless folk and asking questions. Power he'd only felt up close once before, from an angel. Power he realised that he'd felt faintly throughout the past month, skittering through Loom, that set him on edge. Of course he followed her home, to see if he could learn anything about her.

What he had not expected was to save her from a mysterious assailant.

Since we're going to spill all the sordid details of my life anyway: there's Fairbanks senior and Fairbanks junior. Barnabas Fairbanks is the current patriarch; he'd be the second Fairbanks I've gotten to know, since the first was his grandfather, to whom I first entrusted a not-insignificant portion of my finances. Whole family's in the business of being financial advisors, or wealth managers, or whatever they're calling it these days. Willikins who's following me around is Fairbanks junior, apparently so enthralled by the idea of the supernatural that he volunteered himself as my PA, blood donor and all. His father isn't too thrilled, and frankly I don't quite know what to do with the duckling either. He's efficient, enthusiastic, and so far not particularly squeamish. We'll see.
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Naril Tinker, builder, hacker, thief

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Hidden 6 yrs ago Post by The Narrator
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"Redtree, Redtree
guards the gateway
Redtree, Redtree
takes you away"



Redtree, Prince of the Appleorchard







Age: "As old as sticks and stones, younger than my bones"
It is quite difficult to measure the age of Fae since time does not seem to flow the same way in their world. However it
is safe to assume that Redtree is several hundred years of age.

Gender: Fae are not bound to the same categorys as humans.

Race: Demonic

Sub-Class: Fae

"Redtree, Redtree
gives an inch takes a mile
Redtree, Redtree
grants you jest, takes your smile"


Description:
When one can choose his own looks through the magic of glamour it is just logical to choose a beautiful form. And even though the Fae don't really care for logic, some even despise the concept, this is true for most of them. Redtree chooses the Personas of Cedric or Cait Redtree when amongst humans. Both almost supernaturally beautiful young redheads. Their eyes are dreamy and promise strange worlds of pleasure, their skin pale and fair. In both forms Redtree tends to wear bright colours and has a inviting, playful smile.

History:
In the land of the Fae they rule supreme. They are bound by rules mortals cannot dare to understand and may seem nonsensical. It is a land of strange intrigue and wars that are indistinguishable from games. Nothing is at is seems.
Redtree does not really remember the time of his own birth. The way he remembers it he always was prince of the Appleorchard, his own little pocket of the realm of the Fae. And since he remembers he ruled over this land, as is the nature of the Fae however he grew bored. Quarreling with other Fae did keep him entertained for some time but that also passed. That when he found the perfect playthings, humans. The truly divine creations and favorites of the All-Creator were so incredibly interesting, so rational yet driven by passion, ingenious but yet foolish. So Redtree caught them, he collected them. He ventured out into the world of man, as a beautiful young man seducing maidens or just a pair of trees standing left and right of an old wood path.
But playing with humans could also only satisfy a creature as fickle as a Fae for a few century's. That is when he found a new way. Making deals with humans. Humans were willing to trade almost everything for riches, their children, their smile, memories and souls. And this is where Redwoods story still is. But times have changed. The fae are weak, their realm in ruins. Now he sits in the Goblin Market of Loom, offering artifacts of his lost homeland and favors.

Abilities/Skills:

  • Glamour: Glamour is the ability of the Fae to make one thing seem like another. These things do not only look another way, in a crude way they almost are. A Fae like Redwood that hides behind glamour does not only seem smaller, he is. The glamour masking Redtrees true form is constant as long as he wishes to and after years of practice takes basically no effort, changing the appearence he has is as easy as putting on a new pair of socks. Other magical beings or mages might have ways to pierce it and iron, as it negates all his powers, will always bring out his true form. Putting glamour around a nonliving thing, like masking a twig to appear like a legendary sword may last a long time, perhaps months or even years but mostly till a poor fool tries to parry another weapon with it. Countless humans asked for beauty from Redtree and the all got it, temporary. The duration of the glamour is most often following arbitrary rules, perhaps the spell will disappear after marriage or the first kiss, maybe even after just one night.
  • Contracts: The power of the Fae comes from words and stories. This is most obvious with there ability to use contracts. A Fae use ancient contracts made with the natural World by long gone Fae to make nature do their bidding. A Hedge could be asked to grow into terrible form, accorrding to a contract made with plants or the ground to open up and shallow someone. Since the contracts have been made in times and places long gone and forgotten most Fae just use certain clauses of these contracts. Contracts can be used as long as the Fae regularly pays a price, it is said that souls are often used as payment, other payments are much more esoteric. As a angry mop once wanted to burn Redtree for witchcraft, the Fae allowed himself some fun and demanded that the flame would not burn him according to a clause of a ancient contract, all fire asked in return was that Redtree made just one mortal worship it once again. The nature of the Contract defines its appearance:
    a Fae who seems “fireproof” actually has a Contract with fire itself to cause him no harm, while a Fae who can fly might have either a Contract with the air to buoy him or with a bird to grant him its aspects.
  • Pledges: Like in the Fairytales of old a Fae can use language and words as their weapons. Accepting a deal with a Fae is binding by their strange laws. Many storys speak of a man selling his soul and suddenly feeling a harsh sting in his chest because a verbal deal with a Fae is far more than just some words and the creature now holds the soul of the human. The other way around, if a Fae makes a promise he is bound to keep it. Since this type of magic is verbal if Redtree is unable to speak he is also unable to use it.
  • Fae Physiology: A Fae is no mere Mortal. Redtree has a much superior strength, even if he basically never uses it. His true strength is enough to easily lift cars but is only usable in his unglamoured true form. His durability is also superhuman, able to take immense amount of regular non magical or non iron-based damage.


Weaknesses:

  • Cold Iron: Iron is the bane of the Fae since a Fae once broke a contract with iron. It burns them and robs them of their power.
  • His True Name: Anyone who knows the true name of a Fae can control them and bind them.
  • Catches: Fae have to abide by certain individual rules, Redwood cant enter a house if he is not invited, church bells hurt him and he cannot harm anyone carrying a birch twig.


Notable Belongings:

  • The Bag of the lost: This bag holds the souls of dozens of fools who thought making a deal with Fae would be a good idea, or who just happened to be at the wrong place at the wrong time. Redtree uses these to pay for contracts or make deals with other magical inhabitants of Loom. When glamoured the bag is just a small little satchel.
  • The Birch Mirror: Appearing to be just an ordinary antique hand mirror with a birch handle this mirror shows in truth the true form of every Fae that looks into it. But much more importantly, it is a gateway into the realm of the Fae.


"Redtree, Redtree
By your name he will bind you
Redtree, Redtree
in his world none will find you"
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