Name:
Light Savath
Titles:
N/A
Aliases:
N/A
Age:
20
Race/Ethnicty:
Tiefling
Continent of Origin:
High Mist
Gender:
Male
Class/Subclass:
Mage, Destruction



Strength:
8
Dexterity:
13
Constitution:
15
Intelligence:
16
Wisdom:
10
Charisma:
13



Height:
6'1
Weight:
164 lbs
Appearance Description:
Skinny, red skin with an orange tinge, silver eyes, brown hair.
Day To Day Attire:
Something a ship captain would wear, minus the hat. He likes green colors, so he'll always have at least one
green thing.

Strengths:

• Intelligent
• Lying/Manipulation/Machiavellianism
• Has a logical mind
• Mid-far range combat
• Quick on his feet/Good reaction time
• Fire Magics

Weaknesses:

• Pyschopathic tendencies
• Obsessive
• Sadistic
• Close Quarters Combat
• Can't take a hit/Squishy
• Running
• Can't take a hit/Squishy
• Holy/Divine Magics

Dangerously Obsessive * Logical * Sadistic * Reliable

Sexuality:
Asexual
Relationship Status:
Single
Personality:
Ever since Light was able to know about such things, he was interested in how everything worked. Constantly
asking questions. He was a man of science and studied practically anything when he could. Although, wanting
to learn about everything made it so he collected and dissected whatever he could get his hands on, whether
it be man or beast. Light isn't really one of the most sociable people, especially since he doesn't really
like or understand people. He gave up on trying to understand why people do things, adding that to the rather
small list of things he will never quite grasp. Usually though, when he doesn't understand something he'll
obsess over it. The need to understand consumes him, and he will go out of his way to find knowledge. When he
does understand something, he tends to get extremely excited about it.

He was raised to be the best, so he rarely will tolerate anything else when it comes to himself, Light will
never break a promise or deal, and finds doing so extremely disrespectful. He sees other people as nothing
but experiments or tools, and will often manipulate people to get what he wants. Light actually enjoys
watching people squirm under his thumb, it almost gives him as much pleasure as learning. This man rarely
tells the truth, and often won't tell people about himself. He thinks that if people know him, they will use
it against him.

In short, Light is obsessed with learning and gaining new knowledge, doesn't really like people, doesn't
understand people and their emotions, everything he does has to be as close to perfect as possible, he uses
people and gains some pleasure from it, and doesn't like letting people know personal details about himself.

Habits:

• Fidgeting. Anything he can get his hands on he'll fidget with.
• Ignoring people. If people are boring or disrupting his work, he'll pretend they aren't there.
• Pocketing things. If he likes it or it interests him, chances are he'll put it in his pocket and forget about it.
• Being unkind. He doesn't feel the need to cater to people's feelings and will often forget that people need to be treated nicely for him to be liked.

Hobbies:

• Collecting. He has bags full of seemingly worthless things. Mainly random animal bones or potion samples.
• Reading. He'll read anything as long as it gives him some new knowledge.
• Small crafts. He likes making small things, like little boxes, jewelry, or dolls.

Fears:

• Dogs. He was bitten as a child and is always scared he's going to get mauled. He does his best to avoid them, but if one starts to chase him or act aggressively, he'll freeze. Either that or he will destroy them in a bout of fire.
• Death. Anyone in their right mind is scared of dying, but he is petrified of it. If he thinks a situation will get him killed he will refuse to do it, and will probably even leave. He can barely even think of death without panicking. He's made attempts at immortality before, but they've always ended in his test subject's death.
• Disfiguiration. His parents beat it into him that he had to be perfect, and scars, marks, missing limbs, or anything of that like are far from perfect. He considers scars hideous and something to be ashamed of. He will go into a panic if he is burned or badly cut for fear that he will be scarred.

Likes:

• Reading.
• Messing with people.
• The color green.
• Small things that fit in his hand. They're the best to fidget with.
• Puzzles.
• Reading.

Dislikes:

• People in general.
• Dogs.
• Being dirty.
• The color orange.
• Too much heat/being sweaty.
• Willful ignorance & stupidity.

• Skill: Puzzle Solving His love of puzzles makes it so he can easily and quickly solve puzzles.
• Skill: Fencing As a child he was taught fencing as a way to discipline himself. It quickly became a fun hobby and a way of fighting without spells.
• Skill: Fire Starting He can start a fire with damn near anything and on anything. His love of fire made this possible. As a child, he used to burn his neighbors toys.
• Skill: Diplomacy He's good at settling arguments and deciding what's best for both parties. Not that he would really use it for anyone but himself.
• Skill: Small Crafts He enjoys making small things as a hobby and has gotten quite good at it.
• Skill: Lying He is a liar at heart and rarely tells the truth. He's been a liar since he first learned it at age 10 and hasn't really stopped since.

• Spell: Firebolt Hurl a mote of fire at a creature or object within range (120 ft). A flammable object hit by this spell ignites. Casting Time: Six seconds. Components: Verbal, Somatic (Hand movements). Damage: (2d10) 20 Damage.
• Spell: Burning Hands As you hold your hands with thumbs touching and fingers spread, a thin sheet of flames shoots forth from your outstretched fingertips. The fire ignites any flammable objects in the area. Casting Time: Sex seconds. Components: Verbal, Somatic. Damage: (3d6) 18 Damage.
• Spell: Chain Lightning You create a bolt of lightning that arcs toward a target of your choice that you can see within range (150 ft). Three bolts then leap from that taget to as many as three other targets, each of which must be within 30 feet of the first target. A target can be a creature or an object and can be targeted by only one of the bolts. Casting Time: 6 seconds. Components: Verbal, Somatic. Damage: (10d8) 80.
• Spell: Cone of Cold A blast of cold air erupts from your hands. Each creature in a 60-foot cone takes cold damage. A creature killed by this spell becomes a frozen statue until it thaws. Casting Time: 6 seconds. Components: Verbal, Somatic, Small Crystal. Damage: (8d8) 64 damage.
• Spell: Continual Flame A flame, equivalent in brightness to a torch, springs forth from an object that you touch. The effect looks like a regular flame, but it creates no heat and doesn't use oxygen. A continual flame can be covered or hidden but not smothered or quenched. Continues until dispelled. Casting Time: 6 seconds. Components: Verbal, Somatic. Damage: None.
• Spell: Erupting Earth Choose a point you can see on the ground within range (120 ft). A fountain of churned earth and stone erupts in a 20-foot cube centered on that point. Each creature in that area that doesn't dodge takes damage. Additionally, the ground in that area becomes difficult terrain until cleared away. Each 5-foot-square portion of the area requires at least 1 minutes to clear by hand. Casting Time: 6 seconds. Components: Verbal, Somatic, a Piece of Obsidian. Damage: (3d12) 36 Damage.
• Racial Ability: Dread CallTieflings are heavily resistant to demonic and otherworldly possession (except from the Dread God itself) and can temporarily call upon the Dreaded One to read ancient texts (though the Dread God may not always answer)

Possessions Generally On Person (Hip Bag):

• Item: Spellbook A book that has all of his known incantations.
• Item: Small Crystal A small blue crystal used for spells.
• Item: Large Piece of Obsidian A large piece of obsidian (about the size of a dagger) used for spells. It is sharp enough to double as a dagger in a pinch. Although, if it's slammed against metal, stone, or anything harder than a cracker, it may break.
• Item: Charcoal Used for writing.
• Item: Coin Purse A pouch used for holding coins.
• Item: 3 Days Rations A collection of dried meats. It's enough to get one person through three days if used once a day. It could probably get one person through a longer period of time if used sparingly.
• Item: Assortment of Junk The remaining spaces in his bag are dedicated to holding random junk he felt was worth collecting.

Weapons:

• Item: Rapier A rapier tailored for Light.
• Item: Dagger A small dagger used for cutting things, like cheese, ropes, or someone who got too close.
• Item: Hunting Knife A knife made to gut and skin animals, and cut wood.
• Item: N/A
• Item: N/A
• Item: N/A

Armor: Base armor only, no magically enhanced items

• Item: Light Leather Chest Piece Offers more armor than clothes, but not as much as other things. Difficult to bite through.
• Item: Light Leather Leggings. Offers more armor than clothes, but not as much as other things. Difficult to bite through.
• Item: Light Leather Boots. Offers mroe armor than clothes, but not as much as other things. Comfortable walking shoes. Difficult to bite through.
• Item: N/A
• Item: N/A
• Item: N/A

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

• Item: 5 Days Rations A collection of dried meats that can get one person through five days if eaten once every day. It could probably get one person through a longer period of time if used sparingly.
• Item: Water Skin A basic water skin that can hold a half gallon of water when full.
• Item: Bed Roll A bed roll made of assorted furs. Good if sleeping on the ground. Bad if sleeping in the snow.
• Item: Basic Fire Starting Material Assorted plant fibers and a flint and steel. Flint and steel are good for 50 more uses.
• Item: Small Tent A small green tent made for one person. Gives extra warmth, especially when combined with a bed roll.
• Item: Assorted Maps A map for every place he's been and any place he's going. It doesn't give cities, instead they are all basic topography maps.

Magical Items:

• Item: Arcane Focus A crystal used to focus arcane energies to allow the casting of powerful or completecated spells.
• Item: N/A

Potions: Premade or prepurchased potions

• Item: Healing Potion (3) Potions that restore a some health and energy. Doesn't work if bleeding or poisoned.
• Item: Poison Antidote (2) Potions that heal basic poisons (weak poison spells, food poisoning, weak plant poisoning).
• Item: N/A
• Item: N/A
• Item: N/A

Creation Materials: Anything used to brew potions or for alchemy

• Item: Deeproot (2) Grown in the forests of Valenndale Deeproot works as incredibly potent disinfectant and anti-bacterial cleansing agent. It is used most commonly throughout the Elven Kingdom as well as the Union. Deeproot serum is often recognized as a foreign entity by the body and thus quickly attacked in an attempt by said body to balance its humors. It works well in cleansing cuts and when applied to infections.
• Item: Witch Hazel (5) A common herbal serum ingested to alleviate pain, and minor illness. Witch Hazel is common in more areas of the world, particularly in Carthus.
• Item: N/A
• Item: N/A
• Item: N/A
• Item: N/A

History: Light was born in Syddal, but his mother, Nericia brought him over from the Pillar Cities to Bobriki to keep him from going through the Tiefling trials. His father, Elyas isn't biological, but he is still the only father he's ever really known. His family was surrounded by scandal (mainly because his mother was a tiefling and his father a human), although none of it was ever really bad. His father was a merchant and that kept his family well fed. He never had brothers or sisters, it was just his father, his mother, and him. If he did have siblings, he probably would've tormented them to no end.

His love of knowledge started early on, and his mother encouraged it. Nericia constantly gave him things to work with. His favorites were the puzzles and the riddles, although she challenged him with other things, such as reading or math challenges. Light was a secluded child because he was more fond of his puzzles than anyone else, but he did have one friend. His only childhood was his neighbor, Gabriel. He was a runt that, like Light, had no other friends. Light often picked on him and took his things, but Gabriel didn't mind. Gabriel accepted whatever Light did to him, which often wasn't kind. Even if Light burned Gabriel's toys, he still looked out for him. When other kids picked on the boy, Light would torment them instead. His fondest memory of his early childhood was putting a snake down a bully's shirt. The snake bit the boy and almost killed him, but they knew not to pick on Light or Gabriel after that.

Light didn't have much discipline and was free to do as he wished (as long as he mastered his daily puzzles), but Elyas insisted he had something. Light had seen other rich kids fencing and wanted to try it too, only so he could be better than them. He was slow to learn it and often got scolded for it. Although, when he finally picked it up he enjoyed it and quickly became better than the other kids. Eventually, though, he got bored. If Light didn't have a challenge, he didn't see the point in doing something. When he got older, his mother suggested magic. His mother was a healer so he had an inborn ability and quickly learned to love magic. Light gave up his friendship with Gabriel to pursue Destruction Magic, although part of it wasn't his choice. He enjoyed destroying many things, so it was a fun hobby, although his mother rarely let him use his magic for fear he would be discovered and taken away. In order to protect him from being stolen, Nericia also kept him in her sights at all times. He wasn't allowed to go anywhere without her, and they always practiced on their property, behind closed doors.

When he became a teenager, he was obsessed with learning. He wanted to learn about everything, whether it was a spell or a worm. His mother taught him as much as she could, but it wasn't enough. She didn't ever let him use magic, so he had no experience. At age 16 he set out into the world. He knew a few spells, and if those failed he had his fencing. Even with his mother's training, he wasn't a fully fledged mage. He didn't ever get the proper training. He never studied under monks, so he doesn't have much control over his magic. Light's magic unstable because it is based on his emotion. He is usually calm, and that works out best with his magic, but with feelings of anger or excitement it becomes more devastating and out of control. If Light is ever depressed or sad, his magic is less powerful and is more likely to fail. When terribly depressed or sad, he can't summon more than a simple flame. The more intense and powerful the emotion, the more it controls his magic. Anger, anxiety, fear, anguish, excitement, along with a few other things are very strong emotions that cause his magic to become more dangerous. Sadness, emotional numbness, daze, and other things are strong in their own sense, but they dampen his magical ability.

Light had enough to protect himself as he traveled the nation. Learning is his passion, and even with as much as he knows, he seeks to learn more. He knows powerful magic and an assortment of things about the creatures and science of the world. Even though he's not fond of people, he still chose to learn about them too. He learned more about his magic through experience and figured out what worked best for him, but sometimes his emotions still get out of control.

Light hungers for more knowledge, and will seek it to the edges of the earth. He wants to become immortal just so he can continue to learn forever. He has his mother to thank for his passion, and he would gladly die if it meant he knew everything.


Character Quote:
“Knowledge is power? No. Knowledge on its own is nothing, but the application of useful knowledge, now that
is powerful.”
Theme Song
Vivaldi Tchaikovsky - Marche Slave
Anything Else:
"I swear allegiance to High Mist. May she never fall."

---

---

---

---

Name:Barris Isengrim
Titles: None, or at least none he has any claim to anymore.
Aliases: N/A
Age: 64
Race/Ethnicty: Dwarf
Continent of Origin: Carthus
Gender: Male
Class/Subclass: Rogue, Gunslinger

---

---

Strength: 11
Dexterity: 18
Constitution: 13
Intelligence: 14
Wisdom: 8
Charisma: 11

---

---

Height: 4'7''
Weight: 120 lbs
Appearance Description: Short, stout but not particularly bulky in muscle or fat. With a fair-lengthed red beard, and short tied back red hair. He has steely grey eyes and slightly tanned skin.
Day To Day Attire: Hooded Red Cloak over leathers over a mail shirt and gambeson, linen trousers, heavy work boots.
Strengths:

• Marksmanship
• Endurance
• Iron Will

Weaknesses:

• Magic
• Greed
• Indulgence

---

---

Loyal * Driven * Libertine * Proud

Sexuality: Hetero
Relationship Status: Officially Single, with various relations throughout his travels but nothing serious.
Personality: Barris has a fairly carefree, yet also reserved attitude around most he meets. He doesn't care particularly what people do in their time, so long as he is left alone to do what he wants with his. Easily animated after a few drinks or a good game, he can talk someone's ear off with stories of his various exploits in many regards to any who care to hear, but only on his own terms. He has no patience for condescending or mightier-than-thou types who'd criticize him or his lifestyle choices, and can be quick to anger when pressed. Though his anger usually manifests in him threatening to blast someone's kneecap before they even realize what hit them before any of the typical Berserker-rage of his kind's fabled warriors.

To his friends and associates, he's loyal and dependable. And he's not comfortable leaving a job unfinished, if it takes him a month to track down a mark, so be it, he'd rather that than tarnish his own name or reputation for his business. To which end, he's particularly proud of his skills and track record, in his mind with good reason considering his abilities, though to those who don't know him it can come across as vain or brash.
Habits:

• Smoking
• Drinking

Hobbies: Gambling games, Barris is a big fan of games involving wagers, and has made it his goal to learn to play as many as he can. He's knowledgable in several varieties of card and dice games both of Dwarven and Human varieties.
Fears:

• Spheksophobia, or the fear of Wasps and getting stung by them.
• Cynophobia, or the fear of Dogs.
• Kinemortophobia, the fear of Zombies, the Undead, and being turned into one of them.

Likes:

• Precious Metals
• Precious Gems
• Drinking
• Gambling
• Women
• Shooting

Dislikes:

• High Elves
• Sorcerers
• Cheats
• Priests
• Bankers
• Dwarven Traditionalists

---

---

• Skill:Forge Touched The Natural Ability of Dwarves to make them temporarily resistant to intense heat and non-fatal blows, a hand-over from their centuries-old lifestyles within their mountain empires.
• Skill:Quick-Draw A skilled gunslinger, Barris's reflexes with a gun are among the top tier within Carthus.
• Skill:Keen Eyes Barris has very good eyesight, both for far off and up close situations. Helps him spot quality items, imperfections in his weapons, and helps him hunt and track marks.
• Skill:Gunsmith Barris's specialty craft is in the creation and maintenance of firearms, and everything that goes with them, from bullets and gunpowder to weapon attachments.
• Skill:Ambidextrous As capable with a weapon or tool in one hand as he is in another.
• Skill:Mule-Riding Though its rare when Victor is not carrying Barris' luggage and is free for the Dwarf to ride, Barris has the skill to ride Mules and other similarly sized steeds.

---

---

Possessions Generally On Person:

• Item:Pack Mule A reliable and stout steed named Victor or Vic for short, usually carries Barris' luggage.
• Item:Puzzle-Trunk Most valuable item in Barris' possession, a Trunk with a specialty lock system design worked into the box's surface ensuring that even if one has the key, they'd need to expend more effort to open it. Barris keeps all his money and valued possessions (His weapon maintenance tools being the other major item of value) in here if they aren't literally on him. Made for financially paranoid people who don't trust banks.
• Item:Powder-Bag A dry-bag of leather designed to carry gunpowder and keep it dry even in the most wet conditions, short of opening the bag and dumping water in, of course. 5 lbs bag for bulk storage.
• Item:Pack of Spare clothes and furs Self-explanatory.
• Item:Camp Kit Small Iron pot, Flint, Hatchet. Basic tools for camp and fire-making,
• Item:Small Barrel Usually filled with water, rarely with alcohol.

Weapons:

• Item:Dirk Simple, small, and made of reliable and sturdy iron.
• Item:Brace of Pistols Six Dwarven-made Pistols, four holstered across his chest, and two at his hips. Short and simple to load with decent range and accuracy. Stamped with Barris' initials on the but of the guns.
• Item:Blunderbuss A long gun with a wide barrel, can be loaded with multiple shot or projectiles for a wide shot, effective within a few yards of the shooter or in a confined space.
• Item:Rifle Masterpiece of engineering, long gun with a narrow barrel, can be fitted with various attachments, designed for long-range shots when scoped and fitted, decent mid-range when not fitted.
• Item:Bola A short iron chain with two weights attached, designed to be thrown and trip fleeing individuals.
• Item:Mace A short one-handed mace designed for close-range bludgeoning.

Armor:

• Item:Chain mail Standard forged shirt of mail rings, designed to defend his torso against blades and arrows.
• Item:Pauldrons, Greaves, and shoulder guards Forged of iron, designed to protect his joints on his arms and legs.
• Item:Leather Jacket Worn over the mail, basically just provides extra padding and make his armour less conspicuous.
• Item:Gamebson Worn under the mail, more padding.
• Item:Heavy Leather Boots Complete with metal toes, built for forge-work.
• Item:Leather Studded Gloves Designed for work as much as practical.

Pack Contents:

• Item:Spare ammunition and powder horn A must for any travelling, Barris never leaves without spare bullets and powder.
• Item:Leather Waterskin Self-explanatory.
• Item:Length of rope with a hook or bolt attachment Always useful for a variety of situations even without the attachments.
• Item:Lantern Simply made, uses oil.
• Item:Spare food Varies depending on what is available, but usually it consists of stuff that won't rapidly rot. Hard bread, salted meats or jerky, and a few pieces of fruit or veg.
• Item:Map and Compass So that he never loses his way.

Magical Items:

• Item: N/A
• Item: N/A

Potions:

• Item:Minor Potion of Healing x3 Bought, low quality, but effective for dealing with minor injuries.
• Item: N/A
• Item: N/A
• Item: N/A
• Item: N/A

Creation Materials:

• Item: Sulfur (A large jar full, component of Gunpowder)
• Item: Saltpeter (A large jar full, component of Gunpowder)
• Item: Charcoal (Smaller jar full, component of Gunpowder)
• Item: Lead Chunks (For ball manufacture)
• Item: Small cast mould (For ball manufacture)
• Item: N/A

---

---

History: Barris Isengrim was born in year 74 of the Age of Owls, to a lesser noble house within the Dwarven Empire of Viguard, with an illustrious line of warriors and craftsmen to its name and a fair estate in the city of Vyberg. Held in fair regard by Lord Magnate Vardin Theimer for their continued support of his efforts to unify the Dwarven Kingdoms of Carthus under his rulership from Viguard, the Isengrim family is one of decent political power, wealth, and standing within the Viguard imperial court and is a rising star of the houses, leading to competition among its own family members in an attempt attempt to out-do one another and earn the Emperor's favour, like all of the noble houses do to each other in turn.

A middling child, Barris often found himself getting the short end of the stick within his own house's political machinations and games among his siblings. Always in the shadow of his more senior siblings or relatives who'd made names for themselves as craftsmen, warriors, or scholars and never really feeling satisfied in his seemingly ordained role to be a third wheel to the house.

Thus, defying noble tradition and becoming the gossip of Vyberg for months afterwards, shortly after his 28th birthday, Barris submitted a request to the Imperial Registrar of Viguard, to be voluntarily disowned from all titles and family holdings of House Isengrim, and therefore annul any obligations he held to his House and family. Such an action was not unprecedented, but was usually the move criminals and social outcasts made to quietly slip away into obscurity, out of shame, and to cover the asses of the family heads who didn't want to have to deal with problem relatives. But Barris did it boldly and of his own free will, as a statement of defiance that he would make his own fortune and destiny rather than be bound and dictated by his family's interests, a family whom had shown him that they cared little for his own desires and more about their own social-political standings. In so doing, he stripped his relatives of any authority over him, he packed what savings and belongings he had obtained over his decades in the noble academies and odd jobs he'd worked under family artisans, and thus left the family estate in Vyberg with nary a backward glance, to the ire of his parents.

The Dwarf hopped around the Empire for several years, taking odd crafting and security jobs where he could, there was no shortage of need of extra hands for Masters were busying on an almost perpetual basis, if not crafting weapons to fight monsters within the tunnels or to guard the northern boundaries of the realm, then to wage petty wars or conflicts alongside various other powers, there was also always the ever-present threat of the Ostguardian Empire to their south making a push to take them by force . . . if they were to ever decide upon it in their committee meetings that made up their government. In time though, he grew tired of his own kind and after making some money, he traveled into Vicelle lands.

Under happy circumstance, he made his way into the company of a Gnome tinker named Chartwick. Being some of the best tinkerers and inventors to rival even Dwarven crafts, Gnomes had traditionally been either at odds or creative partners with Dwarves over the years given different situations. Both being travelers in lands foreign to them, kindred spirits of similar plights, and neither having any friends outside of their own kind, Barris made a deal with Chartwick, to be the Gnome's more intimidating muscle and travelling companion so that he would be free to conduct his work without much fear of persecution or robbery, and in exchange instead of a wage he would pay Barris in apprenticing him under the Gnomish science of Blackpowder inventions, a science which had intrigued Barris ever since his days in the academy of Vyberg. The two became traveling partners for 5 years as they putted around from town to town in Human and Dwarven lands selling all manner of Gnomish invention to those with the money to buy them, and Chartwick put his strict but fair instruction to bear upon the Dwarf apprentice.

Parting under amicable circumstances, Chartwick and Barris went their own separate ways after their time together, with Barris now skilled and knowledgeable in the arts and usage of various firearms and the creation of blackpowder and bullets. He had made pieces of his own, under his Gnomish Master's instruction of course, a fair brace of pistols and two different long guns, a prime project to graduate one from Apprenticeship which passed the Master's inspections. Armed with his knowledge and training, he went to seek work that would hone his skills further as a Gunslinger. Following rumours within Taverns among particularly shady individuals within Carthus territory, he descended along more sparsely traveled routes in the mountains, descending down into the depths of the world, to the place where all manner of criminals, Freeholders, thrill-seekers, and those seeking escape from ordered society for whatever reason founded beneath the roots of the world, The Charred Republic. Supposedly founded by some particularly industrious Tieflings who saw no fear in what they were and instead embraced how much of the world's people hated them, they had used their power to carve out a place where all of a similar candor could come and partake in the freedom to do as they wished and in time, many seeking escape and criminal delights came from all over the world, the only entry fee being that they find their way to it first.

Barris found his way there, and set himself up as a gun-for-hire. A rarity among the forlorn and often wretched individuals who made their way to these depths, few were skilled in the arts of gun-slinging, not to mention in making black powder. He spent many years taking marks from clients within The Charred Republic, chasing traitorous associates, cowardly debtors, and rivals of various individuals, and while he also took bounties above ground often too over the years, there were few places on Ithea that could give Barris what he craved that the place where all the refuse and unwanted of the world could congregate could not. And thus, such is how Barris has lived his life thus far, a relatively young Dwarf formerly of noble heritage, who cast it aside in the desire to make his own fortune out from the shadow of peers, and instead walking the line between criminal hitman and legitimate bounty hunter as a kind of quasi-mercenary. Mostly comes down to one's perspective as to which he is.

Could he have had an easier life? Perhaps, but he wouldn't trade the freedom he has to make his own fortunes and the people and places he's met and seen along the path towards that goal, for all the world.

---

---

Character Quote: "Live life like there's no tomorrow, be true to yourself, and try not to leave any regrets. Take it from the Dwarf who shoots guns for a living: No matter which Gods you believe in, there's no guarantees you'll get a second shot at living."
Theme Song: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=vcjZZIRRBNA&list=RDvcjZZIRRBNA "You Know My Name" cover by Poets of the Fall, originally by Chris Cornell for the film Casino Royale. (Cornell's is great but I prefer Poets' version's ending and overall style a bit more.)
Anything Else:

Name:
Raux (Sur-Name replaced by title)
Titles:
Wit - In the Empire of Britheria, the culture of the nobility has developed many practices and habits when it comes to presenting themselves. At some point in history, the nobility found it to be beneath their station to insult their peers. Thus came the title of ‘Wit’. The Wit’s soul role in the court is to be the supplement to their charge’s personal wit and insult their charge’s peers. The title is for life till personally renounced, and grows more invasive to the individuals name the higher up in the court their charges are. It is not illegal for a Britherian to kill a Wit in the Empire after an insult provided it was by their own blades and not by cowardly means.
Aliases:
The Grinning Cat; Jarl Fekurror's Wit
Age:
32
Race/Ethnicty:
Brith; Cougar
Continent of Origin:
Crysteria
Gender:
Female
Class/Subclass:
Bard, Lore


Strength:
10
Dexterity:
14
Constitution:
8
Intelligence:
10
Wisdom:
13
Charisma:
20


Height:
6'5"
Weight:
223lbs
Appearance Description:
Raux is a Brith of average height that closely resembles a Cougar in appearance, with a nearly flat chest and subtly sweeping curves. She has an athletic and limber body that closely resembles that of an acrobat and contortionist.
Her fur, as her entire body shape, is that of a cougar. The tawny color of brown, shades of gray, and small dips few markings of black make up the majority of her coat’s hues. And wrapping around her shoulder and shifting down her left arm is a tattoo made of elaborate dyes. The tattoo is of a sequence of swirling and intricate runes that when translated, recites her oaths.

Extending from her ears are strips of long fur similar to what could usually be found on a caracal or a lynx. And running through the cartilage of her ears are six brass loops. Four on the right ear, and two on the left.
Her mane is tightly braided into multiple long ropes of hair.

Strangely, no matter her mood, she always appears to have a perpetual smile on her lips. However, the perceptive may notice the faintness hints of her approaching madness by the way her occasionally rapidly dilate unnaturally on their own. Or the way her eyes will rarely look to something that is not visible to most.

And lastly, while her fur is extremely well kept and surprisingly in a naturally luxerous state... if you were to move the fur about to expose her skin, you'd find various scars lining her body that are too precise to be something picked up in battle or on accident. The scars appear to be the result of shackles and blades.

Day To Day Attire:
She wears a fashionably ornate, and surprisingly sturdy burgundy long coat that could be mistaken for a dress in some cases. To those who are familiar with the Empire of Britheria, they'd find that the longcoat strikingly resembles a female officer's uniform. Swirling patterns line the coat in broken up sections that masterfully keeps the eye looking and lingering over the wearer’s form. The coat’s fit is adjustable and is designed to snugly fit to the torso while remaining loose on the joints to allow the full range of motion.The buttons for the coat start at the collarbone, and work their way down to the waist. The left sleeve is designed to be long enough to cover her hand up to the nuckles, and flare out at the cuffs. The tail of her coat reaches down a few inches past the half of her shins.

The shift under the coat takes on an argyle pattern of black and white.
She wears a pair of sturdy but comfortable gray-esque silver trousers that are loosely fitted with the cuffs buttoned to tighten up around her kalfs and just over her boots.
And finally, a series of colored cloths wrap around her head with a corner pointing down the middle and behind herself. They are an alternating sequence of colors from maroon to silver four times, and lastly ending with a bolt of gold cloth. These wraps serve to guide her braided mane behind herself and down her back. While also leaving a couple hanging by her muzzle. These strands have been decorated with brass beads.

Strengths:

• Enthralling
• Persuasion/Intimidation/Bluffing
• Acrobatic
• Enchanting

Weaknesses:

• Ranged Combat
• Curiosity
• Loyalty
• Hallucinates
• Honesty
• Panic Attacks
• Mediocre Willpower
• Most Magics are useless to those who cannot hear.

Endearing * Fractured Mind * Tormenting * Promiscuous Humor

Sexuality:
Bisexual
Relationship Status:
Single
Personality:

If you were to choose a handful of words to describe this Brith, then you'd find the words; "Brazen", "Carefree", and "Whimsical" appearing almost immediately along with the word "Foolish" to some. And for the most part these are all true. She's Brazen to a degree that most would find utterly impossible. She'd have no problems with walking in public nude if she had to. She's not bothered by sexual advances or overly offensive jokes. And will gleefully test with abandon if an Orcish Warlord can laugh at themselves. There are even rumors about her sexual tastes being unusual. She's carefree in the sense that she enjoys life. She never thinks about the potential of death, as death always comes on swift wings. She takes great joy in new experiences and taking risks to see where the road will take her - through good times or worse.

But foolish is something she is not. Despite the surface layer of her personality, she is quite sage and humble. If you manage to catch her on the off chance where she's calmed down and deep in her own thoughts, you'll find her asking strange questions, telling parables, or even sharing some insight.

And then, there is her loyalty. Her loyalty is respectable, if not nearly zealous. But her loyalty is often at conflict with her own principles. Should a life long companion be at odds with the law, her honesty would often battle with her loyalty towards her friend. And often she finds herself having to settle with truthful wordplay or misdirection to protect her companions, or leaders.

Lastly, she can hold a grudge like a dwarf. If not worse. While she may not have something as ceremonial as a book of grudges, which is written in the blood of kings, and holds all the names that wronged dwarf kind... you'd certainly believe she has something similar. Typically, it is difficult to earn your way onto her shit list through most social interactions. But those of great severity will earn you a nice place dug deep in the pits of hell. And she will surely be the first person to drag you to your new home. And while she can be forgiving, there has to be a very good reason for such wrong doing for her to strike your name from her personal list.

Habits:

• Rubbing her Wrist and neck as if just being freed from a collar and shackles.
• Humming
• Smiling or Grinning

Hobbies:
Satire
Reading
Telling Stories
Jokes
Collecting Riddles

Fears:

• Thalassophobia - Fear of deep bodies of water and the blasphemous monstrosities it may hold.
• Merinthophobia - Fear of being physically restrained
• Autophobia - Fear of being Alone
• Trypophobia: Fear of a large cluster of holes.

Likes:

• Jokes
• Riddles
• Stories
• Jerky
• Fish
• Sphinxes
• Philosophy
• Music
• Art

Dislikes:

• High Elves
• Cucumbers
• Betrayal
• The taste of alcohol; doesn't mean she won't drink anything that hides the flavor well.
• Sad Stories
• Huge Egos

• Crowd Favorite Great at Fascinating, inspiring, intimidating, or soothing crowds.
• Slight of Hand The art of deft hand movement, hand eye coordination, contact juggling, and misleading gestures. With a skill like this, Raux seems to show quite the display of hand-eye coordination. She's quite capable at juggling dangerous items, making things seemingly disappear from plain sight, and even setting objects in a controlled fall by rolling them on her body.
• Bardic Knowledge On top of having a whole personal library of legends, rumors, knowledge on important people, and stories in her head... she somehow has an uncanny ability of knowing things that one typically wouldn't expect her to know. ((DM's Digression)).
• Multiple Languages She has studied, and is in fluent in multiple languages, and a few ancient languages.
• Sharp Tongue There is an old saying that the tongue is sharper than the blade. And this holds a strong truth with Raux. She's not only able to masterfully manipulate ones emotions and logical thoughts with a selection of carefully chosen words. But she can even use it in battle for effect. Got a colossal orc towering over you wanting to rip you a new superfluous behind and then breed it? A few quick words and a cougar's scream will send him packing for the hills! Got a sure bladed sword master pointing his pointy thing at you? Some all natural glibness might make him surrender!
• Bestial Speed Brith are capable of doubling the speed of other races by using their immense arm and leg strength to run on all fours. They can lunge greater distances, but are also more susceptible to counterattack by skilled weapon wielders.

What sets a bard apart from a common minstrel is that their words and songs often have vast power hidden in them. The subtle 'magic' of Bards is often hard to catch, even by well-learned wizards. By using the emotions they pour into their songs, or the emotions the song inspires they twist and weave reality to inspire the impossible. Because of what a bard is capable of... even though they are not recognized as true arcane practitioners - they are often closely watched or disallowed to enter certain locations because of just how subtle and dangerous their art can be.

• Bardic Performance The key defining factor of true bards. While not exactly a spell, it's more of a 'personality' of the Bards that separates them from the rest of the arcane world - and what forces them into obscurity for not being true magic. A bard uses the power of his performances to extreme effect. These effects remain continuous as long as the bard is able to maintain his performance. Their ability to maintain performance depends on their ability to concentrate, and grows increasingly more difficult to stop the more skilled the Bard is. They are able to do other things as long as they maintain concentration.
  Counter Song The bard plays or sings a song that counters and blocks the effects of magics that depends on sound or language. For example but not limited to, sonic damage based abilities or spells, spells or abilities that control people through a language that they can understand "I command you to protect me" (suggestion), spells or abilities that fascinates by the use of sound or language, spells or abilities that forces unnatural fear through the use of sound. Any creature who is within thirty feet of the Bard and is under the effects of a non-instantaneous sound or language-dependent spell may use the power of the bard's performance to break free. However, Countersong will not stop a spell that requires verbal components to be casted.
  Distraction The bard makes a performance that counters the effects of magics and abilities that depends on sight, Illusion schools Pattern and Figment. Glamer, Shadows, and Phantasms are not stopped by this performance. Like Countersong, any creature within thirty feet that is already under affect of the song may use the strength of the bard's performance to help them break free.
  Fascinate The bard makes a performance that causes one or more creatures to become fascinated with him. The prescence of dangers or nearby combat may prevent this ability from working.
  Suggestion A bard can use his performance to make suggestions to a single fascinated creature. The bard can use this ability more than once in a single performance.
  Inspire Courage The bard uses his performance to inspire courage into his allies. With bolstered morale, they become more resistant to fear and will even have their combat abilities improved.
  Dirge of Doom The bard's performance shaken's enemies. It instills fear in them strong enough to impact their ability, but not quite enough to send them running for the hills. It does however make it significantly easier to intimidate and instill fear into foes.
• Enhance Ability The caster touches a creature and bestoys a magical enhancement with a chosen affect for one hour.
  Bear's Endurance The target becomes much more tolerant to pain and will be able to shrug off some blows as if they were weaker than they actually were. Their endurance is also increased.
  Bull's StrengthThe target grows stronger and is able to carry twice as much as he was able to before.
  Cat's Grace The target grows more dexterous. They even seem to land on their feet and able to land safely from a fall distance of twenty feet without harm.
  Eagle's Splendor The target grows more charismatic, magjestic like an eagle.
  Fox's Cunning The target grows more intelligent and cunning.
  Owl's Wisdom The target gains more wisdom, and grows wiser. Their visual accuitity also improves a bit.
  Components V,S,M(Requires a tuft of fur or feather of the animal in question).
• Tasha's Hideous Laughter A creature of choice percieves everything as hilariously funny and falls into a fit of laughter if this spell affects it for up to a minute. Those who do are unnable to resist will fall prone, and become incapacitated. They will not be able to stand up for the duration. The creature might be able to break out of it periodicially.
• Cutting Words A bard specific spell that uses the bard's wit and strongly empowers his words. His insults, quips, jabs, and mocks will distract, confuse, and otherwise slap the confidence and competence right out of the target. Consequently the target's abilities will start to suffer under the bard's influence. A skilled bard could even potentially cause severe pyschotic damage.
• Aura of Vitality Healing energy radiates from the caster in a thirty foot radius for up to a minute. The aura follows the caster for the duration. The caster is able to focus and cause one creature to be greatly healed.
• Grease This spell covers a solid surface with a slippery and flammable layer of grease. The area of that the spell covers varies on the caster's strength. It can also be casted on multiple individual objects where no two objects can be more than thirty feet apart. Objects that are coated in grease become incredibly slippery and difficult to hold. Ground surfaces coated in grease becomes incredibly difficult to traverse and likely cause people to slip and fall prone. Note, grease is not just limited to the ground, it is any solid surface - that includes walls.

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

• Hurdy Gurdy An acoustic droning mechanical instrument Raux had purchased from a Gnome trading ship in her service with the Jarl. A wheel is spun to by a crank to strum the strings similar to a violin. The drone strings are a constant base tone and can be removed from the wheel. Notes are played by pressing down on piano like keys. The trumpet strings are placed near the wheel and are activated by quick jarring of the wheel to create a percussion or buzzing sound. Some additions had been made to it from the creator. It has additional Droning strings, harmony strings have been added to the instrument designed to vibrate by the droning alone, and some additional trumpet strings. The lid covering the note strings has a small snare addition to it. On the sides for the droning strings are frets to mimic a cello when strummed by the wheel, or a base lute when plucked.
• Coin Purse A bag to hold money. What of it?
• Brass Flute A brass flute of Dwarven make.
• A Pouch of Favors A pouch of gifts a bard would normally give at the end of a performance. Roses, trinkets, Sweets, and even small trophies from travels.
• The Fool's Tarot Card A memento from the elderly man who taught her the way of the Bard.
• House Fekurror's Pendant A brass pendant that resembles the hold's shield. A memento given to her by her Jarl directly, before being sent off. The pendant is attached to a chain and hitched to her belt at all times.

Weapons: Personal weapons, no magically enhanced items

• Long Sword A standard light weight sword with a long blade designed to be used most efficiently with two hands. It's secured to her hips with a hard sheath and belt.
• Gambler's Dagger A dagger with a blade length of five inches, a slender handle, and a non-existing guard. The weapon is currently worn attached to her belt sideways, just above the tail. The design loses some of the advantages offered by a full dagger such as reach and a guard. However, the loss is made up by practicality, ease of concealing, and ease of palming without losing out on effectiveness.

Armor: Base armor only, no magically enhanced items
Currently Not Wearing Armor.

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

• Change of Clothes A fresh change of clothes. Just something more suitable for night time when being proper is required.
• Bed Roll A simple roll out cushion, Blanket, and Tarp.
• Lantern And Oil An iron Oil Lantern with a flask of oil for light.
• 7x days of Traveling Rations Packages of traveling rations. Each package contains some assortment of foods designed to hold up well such as, Dried meats, nuts, pickles, hardtacks, and sausages.
• Water Skin A water resistant sack designed for storing fluids.
• Compass A simple compass.

Magical Items:

• NA
• NA

Potions: Premade or prepurchased potions

• 4x Potion of Tongues A potion designed to allow the consumer to speak and understand a language he does not know for an hour or less, depending on metabolism. In order for it to work correctly, after consumption a kiss must be shared. More specifically, tongue contact is required - hence the name. While she most likely won't need it, she carries it around for others.
• 3x Minor Potions of Healing Your standard low budget healing in a bottle when magic isn't available.

Creation Materials: While not particularilly skilled at crafting potions or items... she does use materials for creating songs, or for her spells.

• Bag of Animal Components A bag containing tufts of fur and feathers
• Ink and Quil A simple marking set.
• Tube of Parchment Tube of carefully ruled goatskin parchment.

History: You best be a Brith if you’re going to be born in a landscape where you’ll get your eyes poked out by frosted nips in the summer, and where your manhood will compress itself so hard to your body that it broke off in the cold two miles back during winter. Fortunately for Raux, that just happens to be the case. And thankfully, she would never experience the later. She entered this world in year 104 in the Age of Owls – in the territory of House Fekurror on the western end of Mydar. She came out like all other kits, screeching and mewling up a storm – a sign of good health. The parents? A lovely female tailor by the name of Raksa, and a male naval soldier that looked grumpy even when smiling – but a teddy bear in personality named Paros. And together, just as they brought her into the world, they guided her on through her childhood.
Her family was well off, as both professions are going to be in demand all year around when you’re dealing with a cold climate all year long. And Raux? She was a merry child. Come tide or hell, there was not much that could put a dent in her mood. She asked for nothing, she didn’t care much for toys. She preferred making them herself. And the most precious toy she created was an instrument. A crude little thing made of sticks and string that she played daily – and garnered quite the attention from the hold. It wasn’t long before her mother decided to commission an elaborate lute for her. One that Raux adored, and quickly took to the streets to play. Through many days, she had people dancing by the hold’s fountain.

And soon, a stranger rolled into town. No one knew where he came from, and no one knew his business. To them, he was a vagabond. The man was a brith that served no Jarl, and had no home. When folks did try to ask where he was from, he’d tell them something strange. “Take two steps back turn to the sun and look down. I was there last night, and now I’m here. Then tomorrow? I’ll be there again.” People eventually just stopped trying, brushing him off as some crazy bum. Or even a deserter. Yet no one bothered kicking him out of town. He never bothered anyone. And he’d only listen to Raux play when she was around, and stare up to the sky through the rest of the hours of the day.
At some point, when the two were alone, the man finally spoke to her. His first words, spoken softly, was of a parable.

It told of a man who strides many walks of life, humbled at the end of each. This man was seen only in the dark where unseen ravenous horrors lurked to ignite a light, just to be forgotten by time till the candle needed to be relit again. Again. And Again.
Rather than responding to her answer about what she thought. He looked to her and offered to teach her the ways of a bard. It was from this man through many years did she learn the many intricate arts of entertainment. From this man she formed three personal ideals through the Ritual of Immortal Oaths to follow and formed the source of her arcane ability. But the stranger started to have a strong influence on the little girl. Where many would grow wiser, mature, kinder, or cynical as they grow older… she did not. She became weirder with age.

Now at the ripe age of 18, she was entertaining the hold. A celebration to honor the death of the previous Jarl. Then the new Jarl to take the mantle, Furrok. For the most part it was a standard affair. People were dancing, Raux sang songs to remember the fallen Jarl by. But then she drew in everyone’s attention that it was time for the closing words to the Jarl’s story. Though instead of being respectful… the jester of a girl decided to send the man off with the crowd laughing than grim. She roasted the poor dead man with truthful, but hurtful words. Verbal lashings that’d be purely insidious if she did not make light of them in such a skillful manner. Something that’d likely get many executed on the spot. But she set the crowd roaring. She didn’t stop with the diseased Jarl. She wasn’t satisfied with just that. He walked down the line of his circle slowly. No Thane, Child, Woman, or Advisor was safe from her sharp tongue. Once the circle had been made medium well, she turned to the Jarl who was in tears from a fit of laughter. The onslaught continued, and the Jarl was sent rolling out of his chair squealing like a girl. The hold almost needed a new Jarl, for this one was about to laugh himself to death. Once the funeral was over, Raux was formally given the title of Jarl Furrok’s Wit. When she went to find The Stranger to continue her lessons, he had left a note and the Tarot card of the Joker.

Through these years, she saw to her duties. Often involving her to follow the Jarl where he went, and make quips and jabs at those who needed it. And by the Jarl’s orders she studied swordplay with the longsword from a Valkyrie. In a short amount of time, she began to grow a strong understanding of the Jarl’s mind. It wasn’t long before she started to predict exactly who he wanted to insult the most and how severely, or even how to playfully word news so horrible that people were too scared to tell the Jarl’s themselves. With time the two began to grow closer. The Jarl was just beyond the point of intimacy. Initially, Raux pushed these feelings away. She knew herself to be desirable, as there were many who showed interest in her. But seeing him persist, she finally saw these approaching emotions as genuine and formally rejected them in her own way. Less for herself, but for the Jarl as her title opens her up to a precarious position to let her life be taken in a moment’s notice.

At the age of twenty nine, yet another skirmish had broken out. In the previous years, the Jarl had eventually figured out that his Wit was a bard, and often would request her to give some amount of aid to their troops. This year wasn’t too much different in this respect. She went to the lines on her own accord. And promptly after arriving, there was an ambush on the forces that had demolished and routed Furrok’s forces, and caused her capture. Rather than being enslaved like most civilians, the commanding officer had remembered her all too well and apparently did not take too kindly to her jabs through the years. He ordered for to be thrown into the Frost-Wraith’s Mouth.
The Frost-Wraith’s mouth is an active dungeon within the Feuding Jarl’s territory. A place often described as a place that bestows such indescribable horrors… that it placed a man’s loyalties, mental fortitude, and sanity to the test. A place designed to break people. It was this place that she stayed in for weeks with no light, and only the smells, noises, tricks of the mind, and strange alien texture of the stone grown. She was often placed into the mercy of ‘Gentle Touchers’. They were gentle only in the sense of how they meticulously mangled your body, what followed after was not.

She had been there for several months before her liberation. The damage done to her body could be healed, but the experience left her mind scarred and severely fractured. The twitching wreck of a woman had enough peace of mind to remember her grudge, and personally asked the Jarl himself to handle the executions on her own. The Gentle Toucher’s were publically executed by her hands. And the man who had given the order of her imprisonment had been provided with an ultimatum. Follow the code of honor regarding the title of Wit, and fight her directly like he was supposed to. Or be tied by the wrist and ankles and be ripped apart by mounts. He chose the first.

The man was imprisoned, while Raux was given some time to recover before the duel. And when it came, the man was expecting the fight to be quick and easy. He was dead wrong. Raux didn’t just want to fight. She reduced him into a complete laughing-stock. She stepped away and danced around his strikes, hissing out insults and jeers. Actively stripped away pieces of his armor and paraded around the arena in a mock display. When she did strike, she made it clear that she fully intended to take her time. She wittled away at him, cutting at his wrist so his hands were useless, stabbed his feet so he was forced to limp, then eventually completely losing the control of an entire arm. She told the crowd one final joke before slashing his stomach open, and ripping his innards free with the hilt of her blade. She did not laugh at this last joke. Instead she spoke softly to the man while he was left to die to his wounds, “The last laugh is reserved for death, sweet heart.”

A few years after the fight, she was showing signs that she was recovering… but still was not quite herself. She no longer jumped at the shadows, shy away from blades, or clutched at her ears in a desperate attempt to block out voices that echoed in her head. But she still would occasionally wake up screaming… or suffer the occasional panic attack at the sight of some common things. The Jarl, with concern fueled by feelings he still had for her, requested that she’d take some time to travel and get away from this.. to see if that would be of aide. The two traded mementos for the journey before she left. Raux left him her Lute, and took up a Hurdy-Gurdy instead, and the Jarl in return gave her a pendant.


Character Quote:

• "...I will remember those who have been forgotten. I will listen to those who have been ignored." Part of an Oath she has made upon becoming a bard.
• "The last laugh belongs to death, he's quite the jokster when you meet him."
• "The wisest man is the first to claim the part of the fool"
• "Nothing is more disturbing than a grin without the cat!"
• "The poor man. He thought he could outrun a centaur. Too bad my nose ran faster."

Theme Song:

Anything Else:

Panic Attacks and Madness During her time as a prisoner of war, her time with the enemy baron's "gentle touchers" in his dungeon had taken a serious toll on her mental health. While she had recovered a year after her liberation, the scars are not fully healed and have permanently left their marks.

That being said, she is prone to enter PTSD panic attacks under a variety of situations. Such as watching an ally being seriously injured, being seriously injured herself, being the target of mind controlling effects, being forcefully isolated, watching people being restrained under stress (in combat), being meticulously carved.

During this time - adrenaline is spiked higher than normal. She could either go temporarily feral and berserk, cower and hunker down somewhere, flail wildly, or freeze up.

She will also hallucinate and hear voices as her stress piles on. As the magnitude of her madness increases, her spell songs will start malfunctioning and display nightmarish results for better or worse that affects everything that can hear her songs.

Of course, through her recovery process she has found methods to calm herself down and bring her insanity to a more tolerable state.

Ritual of Immortal Oath's : Spoken Ideals and Oath's

• Journey before Destination.
  There is always multiple approaches and solutions to a problem. Failure is preferable to giving up. In the end all men die. How you've lived is how you die, and consequently how you died speaks volumes of how you lived.
• I will remember those who are forgotten.
  The world may be massive, but the smallest thing does not just fade into obscurity. Everything has a place in a machine, and when one falls out the machine does not just forget about it. That said, every man has made their mark in history... no matter how insignificant, weak, or strong that mark is. And collaboratively, they've designed the world to be as it is. Should the story of one man go ignored, or marked as a footnote to the greatness of another, then that is a failure of the writers of history themselves.
• I will listen to those who are Ignored.
  Raux hasn't quite fully understood the meaning of this last oath

This ritual forms the runes that permanently paints her left arm's fur and down to the skin. No amount of shaving or scarring will remove them as the binding transcends the physical realm. This ritual is the source of her arcane ability, and is bound directly to her soul like a contract.

Name: Aria Lixiss
Titles: Herald of Az-Set
Aliases: Gafoulyn Opalhood, Durindegar Flatback, Brumrag Axeshield, Hangnar, Taglir, Akses Aybar, Yener Ozil. currently going by Gadria IronHeart.
Age: 19
Race/Ethnicty:Halfling(Dwarf/Drow)
Continent of Origin:Penultish
Gender: F
Class/Subclass: Pact Mage

Strength: 10
Dexterity: 12
Constitution: 10
Intelligence: 12
Wisdom: 15
Charisma: 16

Height: 4'8''
Weight: 110 lbs
Appearance/Attire Description: Aria has grey skin, pointed ears, bleach white hair done up in a ponytail and blood red eyes. She wears plain practical clothes suited to the climate she is currently in. Most of the time none of this is visible however, as she is cloaked in a disguise of Glamor to avoid the consequences of Az-Set’s side Quests and the discrimination her mixed Race brings. These disguises are generally gnome, dwarf or non-Drow halfling and are decorated lavishly in brightly coloured outfits and decked out in excessive amounts of jewelry. This contrast with her actual outfits is a deliberate mockery of her taste by Az-Set, though Aria manages to make shue her clothes don't look expensive to prevent mugging attempts that would break the illusion.
Strengths:

• Scraper with supernatural backup
• Sleuthing
• Disguises

Weaknesses:

• Humorless
• Mandatory Fun
• Web of lies
• Trust Issues

Inquisitive * Determined * Deceitful * Reckless

Sexuality: Still working that out
Relationship Status: single
Personality: Aria is a rather focused and no nonsense kind of person, which puts her at odds with her unchosen patron who finds great amusement from giving her bizarre and silly tasks in return for boons and favors. She performs these task with the up-most of seriousness, no matter how pointless or ridiculous they appear. That said, she won’t do everything asked of her, something her contract fortunately allows, as she has something of a moral compass, wobbly as it may be. She generally dislikes actively malicious acts against the undeserving, either by her or others, but is relatively easy to convince that her actions are justifiable: white lies are harmless, the rich can afford the loss, nobody would miss it, they had it coming etc.

She is curious and studious, having a tendency to poke her nose into places and books in which it does not belong in hope of finding out interesting or useful information. It’s a habit she picked up while looking for her father, and encouraged by Az-Set for the shenanigans it results in, her inquisitiveness having gleaned her several clues or leads about his whereabouts. She also has a habit of recording anything she finds interesting or useful in various notebooks.

When it comes to confrontations Aria would prefer to try and bullshit her way out of a situation, spinning lies and spells till she can get clear and change her appearance. If she does get in a fight she is as vicious as anyone with a major height disadvantage has to be to survive. No trick is to dirty, and she will gladly headbutt groins, cut hamstrings, fool people with Glamor, shank them, use blink to get the high ground, call for backup etc. While fighting isn’t her first choice, it's certainly one she enjoys for the accomplishment she feels for overcoming things or people bigger and meaner than her.

While she mostly uses her gifts for her own benefit she is not above helping others with them, sometimes playing peacemaker to diffuse situations, calming raging beasts, solving mysteries and so on. She generally does not benefit from these kindnesses, her many faces and constant pace of her quest leave little time for forming friendships or calling in favors. She does it anyway as a kind of penance for the nonsensical calamity Az_set has her spread along her path.

Habits:

• Devinly mandated kleptomania
• Asking to many questions
• Writing stuff down
• Lying
• Sarcasm

Hobbies: Reading, Glamor crafting, wandering into places she shouldn't be just to have a look, summoning random fay to play games with/against, solving riddles and mysteries.
Fears:

• Broken Glamor
• Loneliness
• Thalassophobia

Likes:

• Solving puzzles
• Sugar
• Learning stuff
• Traveling to interesting places and meeting interesting people
• Architecture
• Justifiable violence

Dislikes:

• Looking like a total fool
• Racism
• Slavery
• Being outsmarted
• Unjustified Malice or Hatred
• Spicy food
• Boats

• Wilderness Survival: her time growing up in the wilds and her subsequent travels have involved plenty of surviving on whatever is available.
• Investigation: her main goal in life is tracking down her adventurer father, as a result she often knows who to talk to and what to ask them.
• Impersonation: A vital part of walking into places where you do not belong is mimicking the people that are supposed to be there.
• Sneaking: Glamor and small stature combined make her excellent sneaking about undetected when she can’t just walk in somewhere.
• Bareback riding: charmed wild animals don’t come with saddles after all and horses are expensive.
• Sword and Board: as a result of not having that many direct combat spells Aria uses the training she got in the wilds as a young girl, wielding blades mundane and magical alongside a simple wooden shield.
• Reading and Writing: her brief time as a preistes in training, the odd minor boon and her aptitude for learning mean she has picked up a number of foreign languages throughout her travels.
• Artistry: Aria has had some skill in both drawing sketches and creating interesting Glamor based art pieces. She uses this as source of coin, amusement and to help with her disguise artistry (records of former/future appearances and for props).

• Glamor a form of descriptive magic used for disguises and slight of hand. While its effects are similar to Illusion magic, the effects are tricks of the mind rather than of the light, fooling people into believing they see what you want them to see. Glamor can be applied to herself, used to create brief temporary illusions and can be bound permanently to other objects if given enough time (time being exponentially proportional to the size of the object). Her first boon, given in return for her oath.
• Dominate Beast: The caster can attempt to charm an animal, be it wild or domesticated. Animals that consider the caster pray or are already loyal to another intelligent being are harder to charm. Boon given after agreeing to first use it to convince 100 cows to stand in a specified pattern for 3 hours 42 minutes and 19 seconds.
• Sand Strike: A number of arms made of sand extend from behind the casters back and then proceed to pummel a close range target in front of the caster with a barrage of punches. Boon given in return for stealing the dragon knuckle bones of a fortune teller and replacing them with those of a local goblin warlord that had been shrouded in Glamor.
• Blink: While the spell is active the caster can blink up to 10 m to a location within line of sight by temporally transporting themselves to the astral plane, in which time is slowed while they select their destination. There is a 5 second delay between each blink and each blink causes double the exertion it would take to simply run to a location. Boon given for breaking into a palace and rearranging all the furniture.
• Summon fay allies: The caster may summon fey spirits or beasts from the domain of Az-Set, which then appear in unoccupied spaces that you can see within range. Boon given for putting on an elaborate glamor filled street performance while speaking only in rhyme.
  Use the following options as a guideline for the power level of what appears while ensuring thematic consistency:
  One creature of challenge rating 2 or lower
  Two creatures of challenge rating 1 or lower
  Four creatures of challenge rating 1/2 or lower
  Eight creatures of challenge rating 1/4 or lower
• Zone of Truth: the caster create a magical zone that guards against deception in a 15-foot-radius sphere centered on a point of your choice within range. Until the spell ends, any creature that enters/is in the spell's area can't speak a deliberate lie while in the radius. An affected creature is aware of the spell and can thus avoid answering questions to which it would normally respond with a lie. Such a creature can be evasive in its answers as long as it remains within the boundaries of the truth. The task this Boon was a reward for is the one that resulted in her current debt.

Possessions Generally On Person:

• Coin: money, real and fake, stored in an inner pocket on her clothes
• Odds and ends: Various things that Az-Set claims will be used later
• notebook: part diary, part investigative journal
• candy: for snacks
• props: such as glasses, a fake beard, a hat etc. to give Glamor something to rest on.
• sketchbook: a separate book where she keeps drawings of people she has/will be in order to keep track of her various disguises and also to use as reference material when copying real people.

Weapons:

• kilij a type of one-handed, single edged and moderately curved saber used by the Otmon dwarfs.
• Short bow: used mainly for hunting
• Knives: as many as necessary
• machett: For clearing foliage

Armor:

• wooden shield: Light, arrow resistant and vaguely useful against one handed weapons, this shield and others like it have saved Aria’s life a number of times.
• Padded cloth: the aim here being to not be hit in the first place

Pack Contents:

• Rations: incase game or foraging opportunities are not available
• Rope: useful for getting to high up places like trees so she can sleep in them.
• Maps: so she knows the way.
• backup Notebook: incase she loses the first one.
• more junk: ”why do I even need this?” ”you’ll see” ”you always say that”
• camping equipment: hammock, vaguely waterproof tarp, flint and steel etc.

Magical Items:

• Item: the Dawn blade: a Khopesh that is enchanted to be especially effective against creatures that are sustained by magic. She also uses it as a channel for her various spells.

Potions:

• lesser healing potions x2: always useful
• mixed bag x5: unlabeled potions that definitely fell of the back of a cart

Aria’s mother was a dark elf archaeologists and adventurers who lived in the Wilds on the outskirts of the Huhueteotl Desert. There she combed the deserts for treasure and ancient knowledge till one day, after plundering a particularly dangerous temple she returned bearing an ancient Khopesh in her hands and a child in her womb. When Aria was born there was controversy, for she bore little resemblance to the man who was supposedly her father, a Drow who had died in the temples depths. It was whispered that the Lixiss child might have been replaced by a changeling as retaliation for her disturbing of ancient places they thought were best left alone. There where many legends surrounding the area, particular the mountains that bordered the desert, of ancient powerful beings that treated mortals like playthings. One such tale was that the fay creatures would steal babies and replace them with their own young, the drow would be kept as and amusement of the fay cort, while their evil spawn brought chaos and miss fortune to its new community.

While she was growing up Aria’s childhood was rather normal for a Drow in the wilds. She played, learned to fight, forage, etc. and even began early training as a priestess of Carmista. Other than a few lingering looks of disapproval of concern her mother managed to beat back the rumors surrounding her child through sheer willpower until Aria hit puberty and it became clear that the short girl was already as tall as she would ever be. At that the rumor mill accelerated and then finally broke off its axle and went rolling off into the sunset. Things that had once been only whispered where now openly discussed, Aria was ostracized and in some cases openly threatened and the stress of trying to defend her caused her mother to become sick.

In the end Aria did the only thing she thought would make it all stop, she stole the magic Khopesh her mother had brought back with her and headed off into the mountains to where the realm of the fay was said to lay. Deeper and deeper into the mountain range she went, higher and higher she climbed, her small stature and the artifact blade letting her survive otherworldly dangers that would have claimed the life of any other young girl. Finally, she came to a plateau overlooking the desert, and there she found a dercepid temple. Yet when she walked towards it a haze came across the landscape, and the closer she got to the temple the better condition it seemed to be, until she was at its door it looked brand new. When she turned and looked back to the desert it was no longer a wasteland full of ruins, but a verdant land full of spectacular structures. Knowing she must be in the right place, she entered the temple.

Within she found a royal court filled with a strange assortment of animal headed humanoids, all stunningly beautiful despite their animal visages. Other, stranger, creatures where among their ranks or filtered through the air, yet as they turned to face her she only had eyes for their lord, a beautifully androgynous jackal headed man who’s fur, or was it skin, was the colour of a moonless midnight sky. He was flanked by strange beasts, Hyenas with rainbow feathered wings and scorpion tails. When he spoke it sounded like music and laughter.

”Welcome to my domain mortal. What foolish reason bring you here carrying tools of the dead”
”I..I have come for the return of my mother’s child. I return what she stoll so you will return the daughter you took from her.”
”I am no thief little girl, how dare you come here and acuse one such as I. The sheer audacity of it... Heh”
”You stole her away and replaced her with me.”
”You wear my patience thin mortal. I have no girl, and you have never replaced one.”
”But. I am one of yours. A changeling.”
”Heh. You were not mine. But you through your oath, you now are”
”what? I made no oath”
”You said you were mine did you not? And now it is so. None can tell lies or break oaths in my realm.”
”I. But. That’s not fair.”
”Hmm. No, I suppose not. Let it not be said I am nothing but a fair lord. I shall give you an opportunity to prove yourself worthy and learn what you truly came here seeking. Bring that blade back to the place it was taken from and I shall tell you the truth of your stunted nature.”
”... I do this task for knowledge, yet the unfair nature of my oath remains. A Fair lord would not let that stand. Does that mean you lied when you called yourself one?”
”Heh. Smart girl. You catch on quickly. Very well, I shall bestow upon you a boon in return for your oath”

For the brief moment as the fay lords power flowed into her she could see him and his people for what they really were, beyond the glamor. Illogical, misshapen beastail things, clinging to their former glory as they slowly decayed, preserved by layers of magic wrapped around them like bandages. Yet they had what she needed. They had answers. Using the same luck, skill and determination, augmented now by her Az-Set’s power, that had brought her up the mountain she descended into the desert below and conquered the temples dangers. At the end she found a treasure room, and the bodies of the adventurers that had fallen battling the final rooms reanimated guards. Some where Drow as expected, one of the preserved bodies was the man her mother had claimed was her father, and she saw now with her own eyes how little he resembled her, even when her height and build where ignored. What she had not expected to find was that among the Drow there were also the bodies of Otmon Dwarves, preserved by the desert. The two supposed groups of enemies had died together, fighting side by side.

”I’m here Az-Set. Where do you want the blade”
”keep it”
”what? you said to return it”
”to bring it to where it came from. And here it is. Doesn’t have to stay here however”
”Then why did you make me go though all that!”
”To prove you were worthy, and to show you the truth as I promised. A truth that lies before you. Your a smart girl. Figure it out.”
”... The Dwarves and Drow worked together. We're not supposed to do that, I’m not surprised my mother never talked about them... I’ve never even seen a dwarf before, they’re so small”
”Heh. bit hypocritical of you.”
”... oh. He’s one of them, isn’t he.”
”Almost there. I suppose I did say I would show you the truth so...”

The spectral version of Az-Set, with which had appeared when she called his name, waved its hand and suddenly the scene of battle played out before them, spectral Drow and Dwarf against mummified monsters. At the center of the battle, near a statue in who’s two previously empty hands two crescent blades could be seen, an Otmon dwarf, his face mostly hidden by beard and hood, battled alongside a younger version of her mother. As the monsters overwhelmed the warriors Dwarf and Drow grabbed the twin blades together and turned the tide of the battle with their magical power.

”Him?”
”Yes. Before they parted ways on good terms the two had something of a fling, and the unexpected consequence was you”
”I’ll have to ask mom about him when I get back”
”I would not advise staying there however. Your mother may be sad to see you gone, but both your lives will be easier if you do not remain there. You may not be a changeling, but in their eyes you are something just as bad. A halfling, child of a forbidden union.”
”... but where do I go after that”

Her eyes were drawn to the now frozen figure of her father. She could not use the Glamor bestowed upon her by Az-Set to pass as a Drow, but as a dwarf she could maybe have a place to belong. When asked Az-Set agreed to assist her, pointing her towards the city her father was most likely to have returned to, if she did two things for him. First, retrieve the twin of her crescent blade that lay in her father’s possession and secondly that she would do the odd task for him as she traveled, in return for additional boons or prudent information. 4 years of tracking the trail of a globe trotting adventure that was already 15 years cold to begin with brought her to Ardents fall. She had ended up in debt with the Talon Company in order to pay fines that resulted from one of Az-Set’s bizarre tasks. While normally she would use Glamor to change identity and skip town, Az-Set is interested in the curious nature of payment excepted, and so she has stayed on in hops that she can negotiate a boon that will solve a particular snag she has run into along her father’s trail.

Character Quote:
”This is stupid””But you agreed to do it, correct?” ”Sigh. Yes.”
Theme Song:
Anything Else:
“I pledge allegiance to Penault and pray her people one day find a common peace”

Name:
Lucilia von Wolfram
Titles:
Heiress, Her Lady
Aliases:
Lucy
Age:
25
Race/Ethnicty:
Human
Continent of Origin:
Carthian

Gender:
Female
Class/Subclass:
Warrior
-Fighter

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

Strength: 15
Dexterity: 13
Constitution: 14
Intelligence: 12
Wisdom:8
Charisma:13


Height:
5’11”

Weight:
121 lbs

Appearance Description:
Being a fair skinned noble lady it is easy to imagine that she is always clean in look with neatly brushed black hair. Her emerald green eyes are cold and unfeeling as she holds a mainly indifferent look towards those who are lesser than her. Every part of her body is flawless, no scars, tattoos, or anything that would dare sully the form of a goddess.
Day To Day Attire:
When not adventuring, Lucilia wears a humble velvet dress adorned with her family crest on its shoulder and the Astorian Kingdom’s crest on the other shoulder. She wears pristine white gloves that go up to her elbows and has a silver locket hung around her neck.

Strengths:

• Negotiations
• Money Handling
• Deep pockets, lots of money
• Elegant in step

Weaknesses: Minimal of 3

• Arrogance
• Outwardly Hostile
• No subtlety
• Greed
• Attention-seeking

Arrogant * Indifferent * Calculating * Cold

Sexuality:
Heterosexual

Relationship Status:
Single

Personality:
Arrogance is the first thing anyone would notice coming from Lucy, being of noble blood she is of course entitled to these feelings. She is also cold and uncaring to those paupers who work and foil in the field just to get by, this attitude really applies to anyone who does not have deep pockets like her. However, in the presence of royalty and the wealthy Lucy is able to show much regality and humility, though that is the extent of her ‘nice’ side. While yes she can display happiness and sadness like any other mortal, it is not her default emotion. Her default would be ‘indifference’ as she the world she truly cares about is the realm of politics and nobility.

Nothing else matter to her, only that she stay of noble blood and that her children, if she is to have any, remain of noble blood as well. Though the thought of childbearing is seen in disdain to her as it would get in the way of her plan, plans which are constantly evolving in her head. While not a genius, she is educated enough for a woman of the times in her culture, an education which most others would not get is something she prides herself in. Another reason to see herself as better than most others, and a fact she will likely continue to carry.

Habits: Minimal 2

• Nail biting
• Rambling

Hobbies: Cooking and Writing

Fears:

• Plague/Sickness
• Being Touched
• Being Forgotten

Likes:

• Owls
• Literature
• Politics
• Nobility
• Extravagant Meals
• Art

Dislikes:

• Rodents
• The poor
• Hypocrites
• Small Children
• Breaking Rules
• No challenge

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

• Fencing Lucy is exceptional in the art of swordplay and single combat duels, she has refined this ability to what she would call its best and has bested many opponents in this fashion.
• Dodging In tow with fencing, she masterful at avoiding blows and elegant in her step to avoid said blows. It is not like she will allow a commoner to touch the body of perfect Nobility.
• Elegance Overall, Lucy is elegant in everything that she does, whether it be in step or in word usage. This is likely to inspire a sense of awe to those around anyone who is paying attention to her.
• Hardy Lucilia is a hardy individual, she is able to take a beating continue to fight on. While her skin is unblemished, it has metaphorically hardened over the years.
• Weapons Handler Being trained how to use a wide array of weapons from a young age, while purely talented with a sword, Lucilia has shown she is able to quickly learn how to use any weapon that she holds.
• Linguistic Lucilia is fluent in other languages than her own; Elvish, Dwarven, Orcish, and Infernal

Lucilia has no knowledge of how to perform magic, nor does she care about it.
>/list>


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

• Item: Coin purse Lucilia always has a coin purse on her, primarily with only gold coins and nothing else.
• Item: Waterskin It carries water...
• Item: Family Locket No matter where she goes, she will always have her family locket. It has a small orb filled with water under a compartment which has the family motto.

Weapons: Personal weapons, no magically enhanced items

• Item: Rapier Only the most elegant of weapons for Lucilia, a family jewel encrusted rapier is her primary weapon and she is very effective in its use.
• Item: Hidden blade Description Should she be disarmed in any fashion, Lucilia has a small dagger tucked into her boot so that she may defend herself no matter what.

Armor: Base armor only, no magically enhanced items

• Item: Suit of Iron - Excluding a helmet, Lucilia wears a full suit of finely crafted iron armor which bears the wolfram crest on the chest. The suit comes with a detachable cape, mainly for aesthetics.

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

• Item: Coin Pouch An entire pouch of her pack is dedicated to holding coin, and lots of it.
• Item: Noble Clothing She always carries a spare noblewoman dress, best to be prepared.
• Item: Spices and ingredents Lucilia always brings along some form of ingredients so that she can cook something that doesn’t taste like a peasant’s hands have been all over it.

Magical Items:
N/A


History:

The life of Lucilia von Wolfram started even before she was born, being born to an Earl of Astoria, Lion von Wolfram, who earned his place through prestige and well planned plots that would ensure that he would stay as an Earl. Due to this, her father married a Viceroy’s daughter to be sure that he had an ally he could depend on within the kingdom. The newly wed couple planned, having contingencies and even back-up ideas should their first born child be an utter disappointment. Luckily, Lucilia was not a disappointment, in fact she was quite the extraordinary child as she grew into every expectation that her parents had set.

The child grew up with every part of her life planned out for her to act upon, a strict regimen that she would follow to the ends of her life to fulfill. From an early age though, she was taught how to fight with a sword, as a noblewoman, she would be targeted by those who were enemies to her father and thus she must be able to defend herself. This ended up sparking a certain drive within the child, a drive to master weapons and become a true force of nature should the situation present itself. While her parents were skeptical of the notion, they allowed some time in her busy schedule to practice and spar with a weapons expert by the name of Thomas Vanderbet.
Thomas turned into a sort of second father for her as they spent much time together, it was inevitable that the two would develop this type of relationship. In fact, at the time, Lucilia would say that she loved Thomas more than her father, a fact which he despised with a clear passion for if she loved Thomas more than her own father then she could be turned against the family and all their prestige would be gone within the blink of an eye. It was around this time that Lion would show Lucilia what death looked like up close. Taking his person guard, he marched into the the sparring room while the two were training and ordered the death of Thomas, being loyal to the family Thomas did not resist his death. He bowed to his liege before the person guard stabbed him to death.

It was then when Lucilia was taught what it meant to be a Wolfram, a cold, unfeeling beast who lusted only for power. She relished in the fact of surpassing her father in status one day and even viewed herself as becoming a queen one day. To stomp out this light case of rebellion, Lion took to beating his daughter, particularly with a cane or belt, but this only strengthened her resolve and tolerance to pain, all according to her father’s plan.
At the age of twenty, instead of being married off like her sisters and instead of being a suitor like her brother’s, she was the sole heiress of the family. While it put her in the crosshairs of her siblings, it meant nothing for they were loyal to the family and kinslaying was met with death through torture. Lucilia, trained her mind with books learning the languages of other races so that she may establish new connections from a multitude of people that may not lead back to the Wolframs.

Finally, the last thing that Lucilia would need to do is make a name for herself, whether it be through conquest or through ascension of status. She would become one to be feared in person and not simply by her name. Her aim is simple, she will become the most feared noble in all the kingdoms, no one would dare tread against the Wolf pack.


Character Quote: “The Wolf Pack shall and forever be one step ahead of all who oppose them” - Sylvan Von Wolfram, the first Earl of the family.
Theme Song: ”L.L.L”
Anything Else:
I FINISHED THE CS IT TOOK SO LONG
AAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHH

Name: Vasan Greyward
Titles: Stripped of title as Count
Aliases: Falk
Age: 30 at time of death
Race/Ethnicity: Former human, current skeleton
Continent of Origin: Vicelles
Gender: Male
Class/Subclass: Monster Hunter



Strength: 11
Dexterity: 14
Constitution: 20
Intelligence: 12
Wisdom: 14
Charisma: 4



Height: 6’0

Weight: 31.5 lbs

Appearance Description: Once a handsome roguish royal, Falk has since taken a turn for the worse. His charismatic smile is now locked in a harsh rictus grin, but his teeth are still as white and straight as ever. Falk’s flowing locks of blonde hair have fallen out, exposing an unnaturally shiny scalp free of wrinkles, save for a few curious cracks. The hunter's eyes, admittedly dark and brooding, have taken on a more lifeless and empty quality as of late. Falk once stood ramrod straight, but tends to hunch now, and lacks that youthful pride in his step; perhaps the result of his striking weight loss over the years. The most striking chance the disgraced royal has undergone is the complete loss of flesh and skin, his body stripped down to almost nothing. In short, Falk’s a skeleton. Clothes hang loosely off of him, he creaks and groans while moving, and has a lot of trouble with the ladies. His skeleton is cracked and chipped throughout, as if it had been broken and mended countless times.

Day To Day Attire: Falk doesn’t change clothes too often. Its hard enough to get his current outfit to sit snugly on his skeletal frame, as he stuffs them full of cloth and cotton to fill them out to resemble a human shape and muffle the noise his bones make. Falk typically wears sturdy, but simple leather and cloth clothes, with every inch of his body covered, complete with a flowing green cloak. Despite his best efforts, Falk's clothes still appear oversized and ill-fitting. His head gear is particularly interesting; Falk wraps his skull in cloth, wears a hood with a tri-corner cap, and has a curious steel mask strapped tightly to his face. The two eye slits are covered by a light black mesh, preventing those who come close from seeing his empty eye sockets.

Strengths:

• Swordsman
• Well-Traveled
• Quick

Weaknesses:

• Feared by animals
• Vulnerable to Magic
• Immune to healing spells and potions
• Bludgeoning weapons
• Ostracized by society
• Standoffish

* Sardonic * Bitter * Ascetic * Just *

Sexuality: Heterosexual
Relationship Status: Single

Personality: Falk is a shadow of the charming, boisterous man he once was, but some who had been on the wrong side of his blade might argue this change is for the best. The hunter once rejoiced in the company of others, but now takes comfort only in solitude, knowing that anyone who grows close to him will cast him out upon discovering his true nature. However, as much as he may deny it, Falk still craves intimacy and human contact, which is why he haunts taverns, city streets, and other crowded areas. Here, he is able to have some sort of normalcy where he can blend into a crowd, which is enough sometimes. Still, Falk craves a deeper connection, perhaps a friendship or romance, but knows the latter is utterly impossible. As a man who once based so much of his worth on his appearance, becoming a walking corpse has left him insecure of his body, and not nearly as confident as he once was, though his biting wit still emerges every once in a while. When he speaks, he is typically cynical, with a morbid sense of humor that few enjoy. His failure as a captain has also left him hesitant to take on any roles even remotely close to being a leader; he works under someone, but more often than not, he works alone.

Falk’s moral compass is rather broken. He recognizes his the err of his ways in the past, out of both self-reflection and in the hopes that it might lift his curse, but struggles with day-to-day morality. Senseless murder, thievery, and other harsh crimes he opposes, and will do his best to protect those affected by these. Whether it is out of the goodness of his non-existent heart, guilt from his past, or an attempt to lift the curse even he doesn’t know. However, he also resents people who indulge in excess, like drunkards and those of a promiscuous proclivity. He despises them not out of any moral superiority, but from sheer jealousy. Falk once lived for these base pleasures, but now they are denied to him. Still, he loves gambling, and frequently wins or loses his whole coin purse at a tavern table. Other little pleasures, like whittling, music, and his raven, Grey, help soothe his growing depression, but even these activities bring him a tinge of sorrow. His skeletal hands can no longer whittle as well, he cannot play his flute without lips, and the raven is one of the few animals that will approach him.

However, one thought is almost constantly on his mind, and that is restoring his body to the way it once was. Falk is terrified of the decay he has undergone, and fears that soon his mind may begin to rot as well. His free time is taken up reading any material he can on curses, investigating anyone from his past he wronged, and attempting to discover what infernal beast slayed him in Merry Mist. Ironically, Falk’s obsessive behavior threatens to drive him mad faster than the ravages of time.

Habits:

• Clacking his jaw
• Connecting and disconnecting body parts

Hobbies: Whittling, reading, keeping a journal, flute-playing, fishing, dancing, card games, and falconry. Many of his hobbies have been made either difficult or impossible due to his now-skeletal form.
Fears:

• Going mad
• Hags
• Meeting those he wronged

Likes:

• Nature
• Solitude
• Music
• Poetry
• Reading
• Cold Weather

Dislikes: 6 minimal

• Excess
• Unneeded Violence
• Thievery
• Mages
• Royalty
• Alcohol

• A Bunch of Bones: Falk’s body is held together with nothing more than potent magic. He is able to connect and disconnect bits of bone at will and can control these body parts independently. Falk is also capable of “feigning death” by entirely collapsing his skeleton and appearing as nothing more than a pile of bones and cloth.
• Dark Vision: Though his eyes were long ago ripped from their sockets by his now-trusty avian companion, Falk is still able to see as well as any other human thanks to his curse. Unfortunately, he can no longer see color, only in black and white. Falk also has adequate night vision, able to see in complete darkness, albeit in shades of grey.
• Skeletal Swordplay: Once one of the greatest swordsmen in Vicelles, Falk’s skills with bladed weapons are now greatly reduced, but he remains a formidable opponent. He prefers large, two-handed swords like zweihanders to keep his opponents at a distance while he thrusts and swipes. Unfortunately, his greatly reduced stature sets him at a disadvantage with a large sword, and he now opts for a smaller sword, but Falk is still adapting to this drastic change.
• Filthy Friends: Though most animals, as well as humans, are repulsed by Falk’s undead presence, scavenger animals are unusually affectionate towards him. Creatures that feed off carrion, like vultures, flies, and even some mammals like opossum are drawn towards his dark aura like moths to a flame, and some might even defend him without prompt. He can also walk undetected among the undead, unless a necromancer has ordered their minions to kill anything on sight.
• Lightweight: Falk is nowhere near as strong as he once was, but he has found that his new body, no longer burdened by flesh and guts, is surprisingly light and quick; were it not for the incessant creaking his bones made, he would make an excellent thief. Falk can run faster, jump further, and dodge more swiftly than before.
• Magical Locomotion: As an undead, Falk is powered solely by the mysterious force that binds his bones together. He does not require, nor can he enjoy, food, drink, or rest. He does need to meditate four hours every 24 hours to refocus the magic which allows him to exist; if Falk fails to make time to rest, he will simply collapse and spend five hours in an inert state. Casting spells adds a heavy tax upon him depending on the strength of the magic, and the same applies for any spells cast at him. Being forcibly dismembered, crushed, or otherwise damaged also requires some meditation to restore the weakened bonds.

• Control Animal: Falk’s ability to control animals is limited to certain kinds, mostly smaller creatures that feed off carrion or are associated with dark magic and death; rats, flies, ravens, spiders, and vultures to give a few examples. However, he is able to control these nearby creatures for brief periods of time, and there is seemingly always one nearby him. Falk can either have the animal defend him, or use the controlled creature to examine his surroundings, and he is able to get a good sense of what the creature sees; people, significant land formations, temperatures, and other basic sensations an animal can sense. The latter spell is much more taxing, and takes longer to cast.
• Terrifying Visions: A quick-casting spell with little taxation on Falk, this illusion can fool weaker minds into believing they are being assailed by some horrible creatures or disease. Some might think their flesh is peeling off, while others imagine themselves covered in insects. The spell’s effect is very short.
• Corpse Chat: For a brief period, Falk is able to transfer some of the energy which binds him together to a recently deceased corpse to speak with it. The connection is incredibly frail, and the tortured soul is often too confused to say anything coherent, often shouting out their last words. Additionally, the spell is extremely taxing on Falk, making him very hesitant to ever use it.

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

• Coin Purse: A rough leather coin purse containing a little gold.
• Playing Cards: A standard deck of playing cards.
• Grey: An unusually large raven that perches itself on Falk’s shoulders. The bird is older, missing its left eye, and has a tendency to croak out random words. Falk has tried to shoo the bird off in the past, but it always returned.

Weapons:

• Bastard Sword: Falk sold his elegant zweihander for this simple, hand-and-a-half sword, partly because it was unassuming, but also because his former weapon had become too unwieldly in his diminished form. The steel sword is 44 inches long, weighing 7 pounds with a v-shaped cross guard, but is also imbued with a streak of silver to give it some effectiveness against the undead. The weapon typically hangs from a black sheath at Falk’s belt.
• Dagger: A small dagger tucked into Falk’s boot.
• Crossbow: Falk carries this battered, medium-sized oak crossbow slung across his back. He isn’t the best shot with it, but he can load it without bracing the weapon against the ground, and quite quickly too. Falk carries a quiver with 15 steel bolts.

Armor:

• Leather Coat: A heavy leather coat, once elegantly embroidered, now faded and patched together with Falk's awkward stitching. The coat is fashioned in the traditional military style of Vicelles, ending high on the elbows.
• Gauntlet: Two leather gloves with the left hand covered by a fully articulated steel gauntlet. It appears to be of Carthean origin, and likely once very expensive, though this one is is quite battered.
• Gorget: A thick steel piece of armor that protects Falk's collar bone and throat, typically mostly obscured by a scarf or cloak.
• Leather Boots: Heavy black boots. Good to protect against brambles and scratches, not much else.

Pack Contents:

• Journal: A ragged leather-bound journal detailing all of Falk’s thoughts and travels. The book’s pages are almost all filled up, and there is a noticeable deterioration in the quality of handwriting and diagrams towards the end.
• Compass: A cheap brass compass that is beginning to turn green.
• Whetsone: A small stone used to sharpen blades upon.
• Family Sigil Ring: While he no longer wears the ring, Falk still carries it as a morbid memento. The ring is crafted from quality silver, and bears a flaming chalice backed with blue and red jewels.
• Flute: Once an ornately crafted wooden flute, this instrument has been battered and bruised. It still functions, but could use some varnish.
• Whittling Knife and Wood: A small block of basswood half-carved into a bullet shape, along with a small knife.
• Sewing Kit: A needle, thread, and a few patches of cloth Falk uses to repair his clothing when needed.

History:
Vasan always had something of a chip on his shoulder. Born in the tumultuous kingdom Vicelles as the the third son of Dragan, Count of House Greyward, Vasan had little say in his fate from the moment he left the womb of his lifeless mother. His house practiced a strict law of inheritance, where the first son was groomed to become lord of the house, and all others expected expected to join the Shimmermist Knights at Fort Stag to combat the cursed mist which engulfed the land. His eldest brother, Samo, was a fair deal older, and was always too busy with lordly matters to attend to his younger siblings, much like their father. The second son, Yaron, was still seven years older than Vasan, but had a more playful, mischievous air about him. The young Vasan received a pampered upbringing, doted over by servants and nurses, though with his mother dead and father perpetually absent. Dragan, a second son who inherited the throne after the assassination of his older brother late in life, was a soldier through and through, and spent most of his time training with his oldest child; the Count did not have much stomach for the tomes his younger children were expected to read to become Shimmermist Knights. Unfortunately, Vasan showed little proclivity towards books and magic either, as he much preferred to watch his older brother train with sword and shield in the castle courtyard. In the night, Vasan would slip out of his room and clumsily swing the massive weapons around, hacking and slashing at imaginary fog monsters. When Yaron left to join the Shimmermist, Vasan's fantasies continued to soar about his future with the watchful hunters.

Vasan was only a 15 year old boy when he was sent to join his new comrades at Fort Stag; the child suspected his father sent him away as he’d grown tired of his pleads to become a soldier like his brother. His instructors drilled him with monster-hunting methods, spells, and training from the instant he set foot within the fort above the fog, though he was largely kept separate and treated much more favorably than his fellow recruits given his status, possibly thanks to his Yaron, who kept an eye on his brother. Gone was the charming youth Vasan once knew. Yaron was now more serious, brooding even, but he still cared deeply for his family. Vasan slowly learned the dark secrets of the new order he was inducted into. Forbidden blood magic, dark rituals, and even human sacrifices were regular occurrences in the fort. After only two years of modest training, the young noble was made squire to an amateur monster hunter named Rorik, a former peasant from house Driskell’s rule whose family was killed by hags. Rorik had completed his squire training, but hadn’t yet taken the ritual which inducted one as a Blood Warden, the official rank at which one entered the inner circle of the Shimmermist Knights. The two set off into the clouded countryside of Vicelles in search of monsters, and it was not long before they found one. A nearby village was being plagued by a fiendish hag who dwelled in the nearby swamp. The track was almost too easy to pick up, and the pair delved into the hag’s lair. Vasan watched in fright as Rorik fought the creature, joining in only too late as the hag mortally wounded the monster hunter as he swung the finishing blow. Vasan carted the two corpses back to Fort Stag, claiming the trophy as his own. Both Vasan and the hag’s body were taken to a part of the fort unknown to him, where he was told by Captain Lucien Driskell that they would conduct an ancient ritual that bound his flesh to that of the beast, so he could hunt them with ease. Already, Vasan was disillusioned by the life of a Shimmermist Knight. From what he’d seen, they lived short, brutish existences, with little glory or pleasure, but the thought of binding himself to that of a monster made him sick. Vasan escaped from Fort Stag, knowing he would be hunted by the order for the rest of his life, but refusing to take part in such debased rituals, the ones that so terribly changed his brother.

Vasan knew that he could not return home to Moonshire at the moment, but perhaps if he made a name for himself as a soldier, his father would accept him and the honor he brought to House Greyward. He travelled to the frozen lands of Viguard and found himself at the massive wooden gates of the Lanzknecht encampment. He’d read stories about the legendary mercenary group as a boy; they broke the siege at Redcliffe, lead the charge against Ashala Tylvus and her dragon at the Battle of Brittle Sands, and countless other daunting achievements in combat. If Vasan were to earn his father’s respect, no place would be better than among the ranks of the flamboyantly dressed Lanzknecht Company. The youth desperately wanted in, but the mercenaries apparently didn’t feel the scrawny boy was worthy. The guard at the gate turned him away without so much as a second glance. Having come so far, Vasan was not willing to take no for an answer. The nobleman stood before the gate for days, with no food and only the hard-packed snow as both a bed and drink. He was near freezing when the guard finally let him in, perhaps out of admiration for his grit, or maybe out of pity. Vasan’s lofy imagination had determined he would be handed a uniform and sword, but instead he was handed a mop and bucket. For six months the nobleman was degraded and humiliated, mopping floors and cleaning after the mercenaries before he was finally allowed to train with the other new recruits. He thought his noble lineage would earn him favor amongst the captains, but his title only gave him ridicule. One captain in particular, a dark, scarred man called Falk, rode Vasan harder than the others. He would spar with the youth every night, though it could hardly be called that; he would smack Vasan with the flat of his blade at every mistake he made in their fight, leaving him with more welts than any other recruit. Falk told him every day to go home and it would be over, back to his cushy castle in Vicelles, and some days Vasan considered simply returning the Moonshire, but he never did. After two grueling years, Vasan was finally inducted into the ranks of the Lanzknecht.

Vasan served under Captain Falk for two years, which he now cites as the happiest days of his life. In this relative peace time, there was not as much glory and coin to be found, but the battalion of mercenaries lacked neither, fighting in local skirmishes against bandits and warring states. He grew to love the adventuring life, carrying only your belongings on your back with little knowledge of what tomorrow will bring. Vasan rose through the ranks, but no faster than any other man; though Captain Falk had eased up on him, the scarred man still held him to a higher standard than any other soldier. Eventually, Vasan was promoted to Falk’s lieutenant, his second-in-command. He’d never been prouder in his life. Vasan commanded the respect of his men not through his title, but from his actions and deeds. The thought crossed his mind that he could return to his father, now a strong, rugged warrior, but he realized that the desire for Dragan’s approval was no longer there, as he had found in Captain Falk.

After a short year, the captain retired, bestowing command of the battalion to Vasan. He served with distinction, upholding the reputation of the elite Lanzknecht mercenaries, and perhaps for a time elevating it. Vasan led by example, be cutting down foes with his massive zweihander or drinking and bedding wenches at the local tavern. Unfortunately, only three years into his career as captain, work became increasingly scarce; that, or Vasan grew hungry for more coin. He lead the company down a different path, at first simply extorting money from passing caravans while travelling to a new job, but it soon became much more. Raiding villages, taking prisoners to ransom or sell into slavery, and killing any soldiers bold enough to try and stop them. Though bandits, the men lived like royalty, and crowned Vasan their king, The Grey Prince. For four years the Lanzknecht ran free through Ithea, but they always avoided Vicelles; perhaps out of respect, or maybe out of fear, Vasan had always kept them far away from the dark kingdom. However, as times grew lean, and the bounty on his head grew higher and higher, Vasan decided they would make a raiding excursion into his homeland.
The mist enveloped the battalion as they entered Vicelles, a welcoming hug for Vasan, but an ill omen for his men. They descended into the village of Merry Mist at dusk, cutting down anyone who would dare oppose them and rounding up prisoners to sell. In a moment of sheer cruelty, Vasan ordered the town’s chapel to Minerva burned. Vasan knew better than to traverse the fog-shrouded roads at night, so the men settled in to the villager’s homes, leaving the townspeople out in the cold. Night fell upon the town, and with it, something sinister. Vasan was roused from his sleep by screams, not of the villagers, but of familiar voices. He scrambled outside, half-dressed and wielding his sword, where he was greeted with his bandits scrambling for cover and bodies lining the streets. The fog was so thick Vasan almost choked on it, and he could barely see three feet before him. He felt a harsh blow to his chest and felt warm blood flow onto his shirt before he fell to the ground, the cobblestone streets fading black.

When Vasan awoke, almost a full day had passed, with the sun setting yet again, only now the village was dead silent. The bodies of his men were everywhere, not a soul in sight. He staggered to his feet, feeling surprisingly strong, and mourned for his fallen friends. His lanzknecht were everything to him, he was left with nothing. In a moment of weakness, Vasan decided to limp home. Perhaps his father would still accept him. The walk back to Moonshire was long, and he decided to avoid any settlements along the way in fear of being recognized, but Vasan made surprisingly quick work of the trek. He never felt tired, hungry, or thirsty, and aside from an obnoxious swarm of flies that seemed to follow him despite his swats, the journey went without a hitch. Upon entering Moonshire, Vasan demanded an audience with his father, and revealed his family ring, indicating he was without a doubt an heir of House Greyward. The bandit entered his father’s court and knelt before him, removing his helmet so his father could look upon him. The crowd gasped, and to Vasan’s surprise, so did his stoic father. Some fainted, and guards drew their swords as his father spoke. “Assassins took my Samo. The damned Shimmermist took his dear brother Yaron. And now, my only son, before me, defiled.” Vasan caught a glimpse of himself in the silver shield that hung above his father’s throne, and hardly recognized the face he saw. Vasan looked like a dead man left to rot for a week, his face sunken, chunks of hair missing, skin mottled. Though Dragan didn’t have to kill what was left of his only son, he banished his monstrous heir from Vicelles forever.

Vasan roamed listlessly for years as his body continued to rot away, searching for the cause of his curse, and some way to reverse it. Twice he tried to kill himself, but found he simply could not die; at least not through the usual methods. Ravens, vultures, rats and flies picked away at his body until there was naught but bones left, but he marched on, taking the name of his former captain Falk so he wouldn’t be recognized by neither friend nor foe. He could no longer enjoy the pleasures of life, be it drink, food, or a lover’s company, and he turned bitter towards the world. Everywhere Falk turned, he elicited shrieks and fights, and for once, the disgraced noble understood the plight of the downtrodden. Now, the skeletal soldier walks the earth, looking for some way to free himself of the curse cast upon him.


Character Quote:
"Trust me, you don't want to see this mug anyway."
"Evil is evil."
Theme Song: Danse Macabre

I swear allegiance to whoever the hell will uncurse me.

Name: Aurelion Fenyir
Titles: Abbot of Wadi el Natrun (formerly) Abbot of Alma Alswhari (Currently)
Aliases: the Brown Abbot, the Black Brother, the Renegade Monk, Seneschal of the Desert, the Infidel of Penault
Age:121 y/o
Race/Ethnicty: Human
Continent of Origin: Penault
Gender: Male
Class/Subclass: Black Monk, Abbot



Strength:14
Dexterity:9
Constitution:10
Intelligence:19
Wisdom:20
Charisma:3


Height: 6'6 feet
Weight:235 lbs
Appearance Description: Brother Aurelion is a tall, regal man with white hair and a balding head. He dons a whisky, long, white beard and puffy whiskers. He limps to the right side of his body and is blind on the left eye. He has a constant, catatonic frown on his face, though his expression rarely speaks of his true emotions. He is often seen with spectacles and has trouble talking for long periods, often going completely hoarse after an hour of speaking.
Day To Day Attire: Brother Aurelion is very conservative in his way of dressing and likes taking a simple brown robe and corded belt. He ties prayer beads to his belt and sometimes wears a hooded cloak when it's hot. He is never seen without his crosier and only lets go of it when he sits down. He always carries blueprints, books and manuscripts under his skirt.
Strengths:

• skilled architect
• talented engineer
• natural healer and miracle caster
• iron willed
• holy perseverance
• deceptively sneaky strategist

Weaknesses:

• he's old
• very slow
• blind on one eye
• bad hearing
• has a limp
• terrible diplomat

Sardonic * Miserly * Strict * Cunning

Sexuality: Heterosexual
Relationship: Celibate
Personality: Brother Aurelion is very miserly and economic man. Having grown up and currently living in modesty, he is very frugal when it comes to resources, but often gives more than he wants. He is quick to react though and poises to strike using cheap, but effective tactics when he feels his flock is threatened.

Brother Aurelion loves drinking tea and discussing matters of food and religion with his men. He takes them on countless patroling missions around his camp and his faithfulness and strong will had earned him the loyalty of his Desert Men-at-arms. Despite his physical weaknesses, when cornered, the old monk tends to fight back with the nastiest of tactics. Bashing you senseless then pushing you off a balcony (there's a story on this)

Brother Aurelion is a very studious and austere man. Despite his age, he entertains himself with books and manuscripts in an almost child-like excitement. He is rarely seen without a tea-gourd and congregates with his brothers and congregation daily to say mass in the morning, continue camp fortifications at noon and supper at evening.

He is often seen drifting on the outskirts of camp looking at plants and rocks in his spare time. He occasionally brings samples of rock and plant to study and plans to introduce new materials and resources to produce, rarely to any fruition. He is obsessed with protecting his congregation and often spends countless hours overnight revising fortification blueprints and gaurd schedules and often patrols the outskirts himself.

Habits:

• Heavy tea drinker
• wanders around aimlessly
• fidgety
• bookish

Hobbies: architecture and design, strategy and tactics, economics, philosophy and religion, statecraft and politics, and tea
Fears:

• the slaughter of his flock
• the fall of his abbey and religion
• visions of a dark empire (his prophecy turned phobia)

Likes:

• tea
• reading
• studying
• lecturing
• tinkering
• preaching

Dislikes:

• infidels
• diplomacy
• coffee
• the sound of iron chinking
• gramatical errors
• know-it-alls

A learned and curious soul, he craves for knowledge. In his plans to siege one Penualtish county, he said the first resource he is to raid are the books and ink.

• Architecture and Design: He built the Desert Abbey of Alma Alshwari as a permanent camp and fortification for his flock. He employed masons, carpenters, and builders to construct castle-like ramparts and lookout towers that encircles his camp.
• Engineering: As a young monk, Aurelion Fenyir was tasked with a crossbow design that can have bolts capable of penetrating armor. He did just that, and from then on, has been designing and perfecting his weaponry.
• Military Strategy and Tactics: When he was forced out to exile, he had to shake some bad men off his tail. He mustered up brave men armed with nothing but staves and candlestick holders and applied guerrilla tactics to fight the men back. The day after, the people who sent the men never heard from them again.
• Demagoguery: Though anything but charismatic, the old monk speaks the truth and knows how to apply it to a mass effect. He captivated his flock by reading a few verses off his scripture.
• Master Economist: Having run his former abbey to riches, the old monk knows a to weave gold out sand and stone. He places up markets and outposts outside his camp walls and sells his trades to passing merchants. Having positioned his camp in the middle a bustling trade route, business is always good.
• Healer and Miraclist: Being a monk, he knows the eldritch forces that run this world. He is able to purify these dark forces into something beneficial. The center of his faith is based on this ability to weave good-forces out of bad ones.
  
  He can also do the opposite, by channeling the faith of his congregation into a catalyst and releasing it as a flaming bolt or molten lake.

First and foremost, Brother Aurelion is human. His is not a magical entity. He, like many other humans, is not born magical. Humans can only learn magic, or it's manipulation, via years of practice and knowledge. As an intern, Aurelion had to complete his doctorate in Divine Arts. Prior to his exile, he graduated with flying colors and his education is now the base of his spellcraft and miracles.

• Desert Wind: It is a spell he learned from the desert nomads and calls upon a desert zephyr to cast strong, soothing winds that can relieve plagues and afflictions. This desert wind does, however, carry sand all over the place, limiting vision.
  Casting time: 3 seconds
  Cast duration: 10-25 seconds
  Components: Verbal exhortation with offering for zephyr (i.e chickens, goats, crops)
  Increased heal bonus 20%-35%
  Felxible: Can be cast anywhere so as long there is earth and sediment. Heal varies on area:
  Plains and Grassland: 20% heal bonus
  Snow and Tundra: 25% heal bonus
  Desert and Barrens: 30%-35% heal bonus
  "After befriending a few zephyrs, Brother Aurelion has earned their favor."
• Sandstorm: Uses the same techniques and conjuration as Desert Wind although the summoned zephyr is offered nothing. This more often enrages the zephyr and causes a sandstorm that blinds those going against the wind's direction.
  Casting time: 3 seconds
  Cast duration: 10-25 seconds
  Components: Verbal exhortation with no offering to zephyr.
  Blinds for the whole duration.
  Felxible: Can be cast anywhere so long there is earth and sediment. Duration varies on area:
  Plains and Grassland: 10 second blind
  Snow and Tundra: 15 second blind
  Desert and Barrens: 20 to 25 second blind
  "...Though he hasn't befriended them all..."
• Dimitic Chant: An ancient song of the Dimitic monks. Sung to increase vision over the desert and increase hastiness.
  Casting time: indefinite (for as long as the brothers chant)
  Components: verbal exhortation
  Increases vision and speed by 45% and 30%, respectively.
  "After singing this chant repetitively for decades, it is one of the many reasons he is hoarse."
• Miracle of Taa Cali: In grave situations, the monk reads from his scriptures the miracle of Saint Taa Cali. Once read aloud, the reader and anyone around him is turned temporarily into blocks stone, making the spell a perfect camouflage. These stones have one caveat though: they can be broken, often killing the camouflaged individual.
  Casting Time: 5-9 seconds (depending on no. of people)
  Components: Verbal
  "A devotee to the Saint of the Dunes, he has earned the right to her protection..."
• Arms, Forward!: The monk's men are so loyal to him, that they have developed a psychic link to him. Under the monk's orders, his men will come rushing, as if pulled by a force, towards a target location with their weapons on arms. The only drawback is if not timed properly, his men can end up hurting each other.
  Casting Time: 2 seconds for each soldier
  Components: Non-verbal, point to direction
  Damage: 15 per soldier
  Telepathic: Applies to allies, creatures and men-at-arms
  "We live to serve you, Brother! -Men at arms"
• Pillars of Stone: Having learned eldritch spells over his time in the desert, he has found ancient carvings on which he can manipulate the stones under the sand. He can raise up multiple pillars in front of him but makes the ground beneath the pillars give way, causing deep and treacherous chasms.
  Casting Time: 7 seconds
  Components: Verbal with hand motion
  Damage: 30 (Stone pillar) 90 (chasm pit)
  Limited:Only available in Penault or desert areas
  The Saint of the Dunes is very protective of her followers...
• Excorcise: Every monk knows how to exorcise a demon. Aurelion, however, can exercise so efficiently, he can actually rip one of his or her soul. This can be used to cast out demons but has a high risk of casting out the individual's souls along with it.
  Casting Time: Ritualistic, 2 minutes
  Components:Hand movement, scripture, and verbal exhortations
  Damage: Heals for 40 Damages for 15, dispells and purifies
  "Oh, dear... well, let's just shove him back in somehow... -Brother Aurelion, after his first trial excorcism"
• Miracle of Brother Aurelion: The old monk relies on the faith of his flock to maintain his powers. In times of need, his flock can fall on their knees to pray as Brother Aurelion channels their faith to cast an impenetrable barrier that disguises and protects the area around them. There is one caveat; should the flock lose their faith, the barrier will die.
  Casting Time: 30 mins - 1 hour (depending on size of believers)
  Cast duration: indefinite (depending on faith)
  Components: believers, catalyst, verbal exhortations, and location
  Limited: Only available if faithful flock is nearby
  "Faith is the people. Faith is you, my faithful!"

• Writing Material: He owns a few measures of parchment, a quill and a vial of ink. He uses his letter opener to score lines and split large peices of parchment.
• Drinks: He also carries around a canteen of water which he heats by burying in the sand and a gourd and tea grounds.
• Scriptures: He is often seen studying his books and manuscripts while writing down his own. They are rolled into his knapsack.
• Knapsack: Contains bread, cheese and sometimes sausage for consumption. He also brings along milk and dates.
• Glasses: He carries around spectacles that can be adjusted by pumping water into it's clear membrane.

• Crioser Thick, blunt staff used for walking. It's engraved with the words "ahbra alaahaziz" and is a symbol of his authority as Abbot and Dymovogue
• Cane SUsed for walking within the absence of his crioser.
• Iron Canteen A drinking vessel that can be flailed around
• letter opener Used to cut parchment, but good enough as a small dagger.
• Leather sling His only real weapon, and he is quite profficient with it.

• Cloak Black linen cloak, good for nighttime camouflage and very comfortable.
• Leather tunic Worn under the robe for protection against sharp attacks and acts as a cassock.

Pack Contents:

• Samovar For heating up water and tea at night and carrying extra water.
• small adze For digging trenches and and collecting samples when out on the desert.

Magical Items:

• Holy Scriptures Contains the spells and miracles he has learned. Has no power in itself and the spell do not work unless recited aloud in particular tones.
• Heart of the Desert The skull of the former Abbot he succeeded, it is now a catalyst for influx of faith into magical power. It is bound with leather cords and bites down on prayer beads.

Potions:

• Black Tea A good kick in the back every morning. Gives stamina and speed.
• Milk Tea Mellow and sweet. Makes healing more effective.
• Desert Sidewinder Tea Increases vision over the desert, but makes you a little tipsy.

Creation Materials:

• Charred snake skin for sidewinder tea
• Black tea grounds tea base and alertness factor ingredient for black tea
• Camel Milk base for milk tea and anti-flatulant
• Cactus Alkaine healing factor ingredient of milk tea
• Sidewinder venom vision component for side winder tea
• Samovar To heat up ingredients

Not much is known about the third Desert Father. Aurelion Fenyir was only known as an abbot, then later one of the four Desert Fathers of the Dimitic Faith. He studied engineering and was poised to become an architect before he devoted himself to the cloister. Now he leads the second largest Dimitic Basilica housed in an abbey he built in exile. He called this abbey Alma Alswhari which meant "Desert Monastery" and it soon grew to be a bustling town within a fortress in itself.

Before becoming a Desert Father though, he was Abbot of Wadi el Natrun of the Penualtish Peninsula. He cultivated Dimitism in Penualt up until it's Golden age in 102 Age of Owl. It came to become so large that it contested the Elven Faith in Penault.

This, later on, was the reason he was exiled. An excerpt from an old record explains as follows:

The Dimitic monks once lived in peace in the Eyalet of a Penaultish Empire. They where the devotees to the Desert Saint, Taa Kali. Around this time, a monk of considerable influence rose to power. He gained favor from the then Emperor to build a Cathedral for Dimitic Faithful in the central pyre.

The Cathedral flourished over the years and even rivaled the nearby Temple, both in the number of believers and grandeur. This was the golden age of Dimitism in the Penaultish Empire, and soon enough, the monk responsible was made abbot of his monastery. He oversaw the production of candles, prayer beads and books, and fortifications throughout the abbey.

The high priests, however, did not look upon this kindly. They criticised the Emperor and his decision to disgrace their home religion. The Emperor just brushed them aside, far too preoccupied with trade and economics. The high priests, filled up to their heads with anger, conspired with the officials and military men of the east to assassinate the Emperor and rid the Penaultish Empire of the infidels once and for all.

On a bleak, dreary night; one of the high priest's rogues climbed up the emperor's study. Hidden in the black of his silk and the black of the night, the assassin plunged a saber into the emperor's throat, thus ending him.

After a decisive forced abdication, the high priests took over and hunted down the Dimits like dogs. As the monks, brothers and the faithful who survived retreated and took sanctuary in the Cathedral, the abbot planned their escape. They armed themselves with whatever they had: staves, stick, dirks, and candleholders. They fought bravely and barely escaped with their lives. The high priests' men then razed the cathedral, tore down the minarets and cloisters and cracked the bells and grails.

Outcast into the night, the brothers sought solace and meditated in the desert. They were wise men and took comfort in the fact that a faith is not a structure, nor a name. Faith was the people who remained faithful, even in the most trying times. The high priests may think they have eradicated the Dimits, but as long as the men and women who carry the cross and spirit within them live, the Faith lives on with them...

~~~
After establishing his abbey, Brother Aurelion launched a feat none like any other monk his rank has attempted. With the permission of the Paprusogue and his papal bull addressed to his project, he began his experiments. They circled around the hypothesis of incorruptibility. They wanted to find a method of immortality, but first, they had to find out what could preserve flesh and bone indefinitely.

Aurelion started his studies and after a while hypothesized that a constant influx of flesh, blood, minerals and other forces was needed to preserve a body even after post-mortem without the use of flesh softening acids. This experiment failed and the desert geko corpse they used only lasted a week before it started to rot again.

Brother Aurelion then hypothesized that the flesh needed a central force of perpetual motion to keep blood, air, and minerals flowing. Although beyond the papal bull assigned to him, Brother Aurelion decided to use faith or eldrichicity. He extended his papal bull to the Paprusogue to do experiments on human corpses, but he did not include the use of magic in the request...

After approval was sent, Aurelion began his trial. He pumped the dead man's body with all the essentials and attempted to recreate the perpetual motion within all living things to preserve the body. After grueling work and hours of arcane incantation, the monk finally succeeded. The corpse stayed fresh and flexible even after a month.

Aurelion considered this a success, until one night, he found something odd. The corpse breathes. It groaned on the first day and took gasps of air on the third. By the end of the first month, the corpse had opened his eyes and began emoting. One night in the laboratory, as Brother Aurelion cleaned out his vials and tubes, he felt the presence of a person behind him. To his horror, it was the corpse fully animated. It stood there and the old monk couldn't muster even the faintest of gasps. Before him stood a homonculi em ter condiscendi, a false homunculus. Fearing the worse, he grabbed his crosier and bludgeoned the homunculus till kingdom come. This only enraged it as it came for the abbot. To defend himself, the monk had to kill what he created. He forced it back to the edge of the balcony and pushed it off. It fell to the hard sandstone below, but even with it's spine split and its skull cracked open, it stood up.

The abbot then ordered his men to capture the homunculus and subdue it in a large bell jar filled with acid. It was to stay there until the monks found a way to kill it for sure. But before the hot arrid sun climbed up the sky, the jar was found broken in the morning. Reports came that the homunculus escaped and was last seen heading for the outskirts of Vicelles.

Quote: As long as you have warm beverage by your lip and faith by your hip, everything will fall in place.
The Black Monks' Chant: youtube.com/watch?v=eP52SxhgikE
Anything Else: Peace to Penault and prayers skyward for our common ground.

NOTE: The Desert Fathers are the leader of the Dimitic Faith. The Paprusogue is the high leader followed by the two Dymovogues who are his auxiliaries and the Strygovogue is the evangelical arm of the Faith. Brother Aurelion is one of the current Dymovogues.
Alma Alswhari:
Map of Alma Alswhari:

Name: Lorelei Castanellos
Titles: N/A
Aliases: Lore, LeiLei
Age: 22
Race/Ethnicty: Siren
Continent of Origin: Valenndalic
Gender: Female
Class/Subclass: Rogue / Thief



Strength: 7
Dexterity: 14
Constitution: 11
Intelligence: 15
Wisdom: 11
Charisma: 17


Height: 5'8
Weight: 134 lbs
Appearance Description: A little under the average height of most Sirens, Lorelei makes up for it in the rest of her appearance. Lorelei doesn’t look how Sirens used to look before the War of Splitting Branches, nor does she look similar to how Sirens who can no longer live in the water look today. Her appearance takes on a more elven appearance and beauty, though she still retains some well known Siren attributes.
She’s rather lithe, as is common for a Siren. Her soft grey, with pink undertones, skin appears smooth, and is cool to the touch. In various parts of her body, a small cluster of vibrantly colored scales, hues of purple, blue, and orange, are present. She doesn’t have human or elven ears, instead having small fins in place of them, with hearing holes located within them against her skull. She has long and flowing hair, various hues of darker brown and soft streaks of lighter browns. Her eyes are an unusual color, and are a various mixture of common eye colors, unable to be classified as one specific shade. Her pupils are usually dilated, as are most Sirens who live on land. Because of her more elven appearance, her curves are smooth and almost considered “perfect,” with an ample chest size.

Day To Day Attire: Usually something form-fitting that allows her to move about freely, without clothing being in the way to prevent her to move quickly. She’ll often wear something with a cloth mask, so she can bring it up over her mouth and nose and only have her eyes be visible. Further prevents someone some identifying her. Sometimes these articles of clothing can be slightly revealing, but it depends on the day.
Strengths:

• Stealth
• Agility
• Melee Combat

Weaknesses:

• Weakened Teeth
• Unable to breathe underwater / transmutation
• Weak

Curious * Intelligent * Manipulative * Sociable

Sexuality: Pansexual
Relationship Status: Single
Personality: Like most Sirens, Lorelei has a slight distaste for the Dwarven race, due to the events of the War of the Splitting Branches. That dislike has since been passed down through generations, and thus was passed down to her.
However, overall, Lorelei is relatively kind and sociable. She enjoys meeting new people and having a decent conversation about whatever comes to mind, that is able to be built upon. She enjoys to ask questions and just overall gather information. Despite some hesitations about her, Lorelei is extremely intelligent, and enjoys to learn new information, and may even possibly share it.. For a price.
While she’s kind and open-minded, Lorelei can also be quite devious and sly. She can easily be nice to your face, but then turn around and say something different, but it just depends on the mood and situation. She’ll use whatever she can to her advantage, may that be her beauty or bits of information that people may be searching for. Certainly a force to be reckoned with.
Bottom line? Don’t let her kindness or beauty fool you.

Habits:

• Tendency to ask a lot of questions.
• Tendency to misread some emotions.
• Tendency to speak very softly and quietly.
• A bit of a kleptomaniac, snatching expensive-looking objects for currency.

Hobbies:
Writing
Exploring / Adventuring
Socializing
Gathering Information
Fears:

• Acrophobia - Fear of heights.
• Arsonphobia - Fear of fire.
• Brontophobia - Fear of thunder & lightning.

Likes:

• Rain [ NOT thunderstorms ]
• Books / Storytelling
• Most art
• Most Elven races
• Knowledge
• Extravagant items [ beautiful trinkets and bobbles ]

Dislikes:

• Bad attitudes
• Dwarves
• Briths
• Cats in general
• Excessive heat
• Loud noises

• Skill: Healing Lorelei knows the basics of healing. She can stitch up most wounds and can bandage them up. She can use basic herbs in terms of healing, but in terms of surgery and higher skilled healing, she is unaware.
• Skill: Stealth With her profession, Lore has become adept in sneaking and making herself relatively unseen.
• Skill: Agility Because of her body type, Lore is able to move quick and agile, able to dodge most attacks and get away relatively unscathed.
• Skill: Horseback Riding Having a fondness of animals, Lore quickly developed the ability to ride a horse, which is her favorite pastime.
• Skill: Reading & Writing Due to her upbringing, Lorelei can read and write in the common tongue, as well as Dwarven and Elven tongues.
• Skill: Linguistic Lorelei is able to speak Dwarven and Elven tongues, as well as the common tongue.

• Spell: Silence For a short burst of time, the sounds of footsteps, breathing, and any other natural sound that the wielder may make is deafened. It is not completely silenced, but enough to where it is almost indetectable.
• Spell: Quick Step For a short burst of time, the speed of the wielder’s steps is quickened. It cannot be cast the same time as Spell : Silence.
• Racial Spell: Siren's Glass The ability to weave a barrier against magic. The strength of the barrier and how long it can be held is directly connected to the wielder’s attributes.
• Spell: Glamour A form of magic involving disguises or the slight of hand. It’s a type of Illusion magic, but more so tricking the mind rather than of light, tricking people into seeing one thing when it actually is something else. It can be cast upon the wielder, or upon an object, it’s duration dependent on the wielder’s ability.
• Spell: Alarm Choose a door or opening to set an alarm for unwanted intrusion. It will alarm you if anything crossed the boundary. A ping within your mind will sound if anything crosses the boundary if you are within a mile radius. If you are asleep, an inaudible sound of a hand bell will awaken you.
• Spell: Charm Person An attempt to charm a human or humanoid into believing something that goes against known information, or to regard the wielder as a friendly acquaintance. Directly dependent on the wielder’s attributes.

Possessions Generally On Person:

• Item: Coin purse She often carries a bit of coin with her, for whatever tipping or bartering she needs to accomplish.
• Item: Checklist Lorelei likes to keep track of whatever missions / things she needs to do.
• Item: Family Heirloom She often wears the heirloom of her family, a shell pin that can be placed in her hair.
• Item: Compass Due to her sense of adventure, she usually has one with her to keep track of where she is.

Weapons: Personal weapons, no magically enhanced items

• Item: Daggers (2) Handheld knives, easily able to be used quickly and efficiently.
• Item: Blow dart A long, wooden tube that’s able to be loaded with a small dart, the type of dart dependant on the user. Usual types of darts include poison, temporary paralysis, sleeping agent.
• Item: Rapier A thin blade created specifically for Lore. Not used often.

Armor: Base armor only, no magically enhanced items

• Item: Light Leather Armor Armor thicker than regular clothing. More freedom of movement, and difficult to bite through.
• Item: Light Leather Leggings Leggings thicker than regular clothing. More freedom of movement, and difficult to bite through.
• Item: Light Leather Boots Comfortable walking shoes. Difficult to bite through.
• Item: Cloth Mask A cloth that comes up and conceals the face, usually the mouth and nose. Acts as a disguise.

Pack Contents:

• Item: Rations Rations that will last a few days.
• Item: Simple Clothing Similar to what she wears on a daily basis.
• Item: Map & Compass Several maps; useful for whatever area she is in.
• Item: Waterskin A tanned sac of animal skin. Holds water.
• Item: Bedroll A roll of various furs and feather-stuffed pieces of cloth.
• Item: Bandages Strips of cloth to apply to wounds.

Magical Items:

• None

Potions:

• Item: Healing Potion (3) Potions that restore a bit of health and energy. Can heal only simply wounds [small cuts, abrasions, etc.]
• Item: Poison Antidote (5) Potions that counteract poisons within the body. Side effects include nausea and blurry vision.
• Item: Smoke Bomb (2) Glass bottle that is able to be thrown to the ground. Once the glass breaks, an uprising of smoke arises, allowing the wielder to use it to get away from a potentially dangerous situation.

Creation Materials:

• None

History: Sirens had once thrived within the oceans, living near the bottom of the ocean floor. They were content, away from all races and dwelling within their own, living a peaceful life. However, after the War of the Splitting Branches, the oceans were poisoned and made the environments dangerously hostile. The Sirens were forced from the oceans, the poison causing some of the Sirens to change. Many lost their ability to breathe underwater, others losing the ability of transmutation, unable to switch their bodies between that of living within water, and that of living on land. Because of this, many Sirens died from a War that they were never apart of. Because of this, some Sirens were unable to live underwater, while some were unable to live above water.
Years passed, and Sirens adapted to whatever condition they were living in. Sirens who lived above water developed a more human or elven-like appearance, appearing more beautiful in the eyes of the other species, but uglier in Siren society. Those who lived below water became much more feral, and are extremely elusive.
Lorelei’s family was a bloodline of Sirens that had lost their ability to live underwater and the ability of transmutation. They resided within the caves along the edges of the Viguard kingdom, preferring to keep away from most civilization. However, Lorelei’s mother decided to live the Clan that resided within the caves, and move further inland to live in civilization. She lived amongst the High Elves, having moved from Carthus to Valenndale to reside within the Ellvenan kingdom to hopefully learn of ways to help fix the Siren problem, learning their ways and adapting to their lifestyle. She met and settled down with someone, and gave birth to three healthy children, Lorelei being the youngest of the three.
Lorelei’s upbringing was relatively normal. She was raised within elven society and taught elven mannerisms, coming out much more regal and sophisticated as opposed to Sirens that still dwelled within the caves. She was taught to read and to write, as well as speak fluently in multiple languages. However, her voice is natural soft and weak, causing her to have to repeat herself to people who may be hard of hearing.
Her family fell upon hard times, causing her and her siblings to take up positions that brought their family a stable income. While others may have gone to be merchants or barmaids, Lorelei became proficient in gathering and dishing out information, often with a price, as well as being enlisted to thieve objects or items from other families, or she did it for her own self gain.


Character Quote: "When life robs you, sometimes you gotta rob it back." - The Book Thief
Theme Song: Hips Don't Lie - Shakira
Anything Else: N/A