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Name: Alcander Mires
Aliases: Ty, Moribus (Greek and Latin references to Pathfinder/Adventurer)
Age: 26
Nationality: American/British
Ethnicity: Grecian
Current Residence: None, at the moment. Most recently Sicily.
Gender: Male
Education: Archaeology(Master's Degree)/ Classics (Bachelor's Degree)
Job: Archaeologist, lays low as a Mail Clerk
Role: Action Archaeologist

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Height: 6 feet
Weight: 170 lbs.
Build: Lean yet toned
Eyes: Earthy Brown
Hair: Black
Skin Tone: Olive
Tattoos/Scars/Piercings: Old English tattoo of 'Soldier' on his left arm, Greek Tattoo for 'Pathfinder' on his right.
Personal Style: Alcander cuts a wiry and rough, but not unpleasant figure. His black mane of wavy hair, along with his earthy brown eyes give him an approachable look, adding to his charismatic voice and ardent gaze. He has a fine nose that accentuates his rakish face. He never wants to look unpresentable, but looks are also never his primary concern, preferring comfort and ease over fancy appearances.

He wears the popular Swedish M39 wool trousers for ease of use, along with a worn but styled English button down and a thick raffish jacket with military grade boots. A brown grecian belt with a bronze Apollo belt buckle fits snug around his waist. When out on an expedition he wears a high-crowned, wide-brimmed sable fedora.

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Confident * Cool * Brave * Charismatic

Sexuality: Heterosexual
Relationship Status: Single
Personality: Known as a bohemian among his colleagues back in London, that wouldn't be too far from the truth with his lust for adventure. However behind that, Alcander is a very genuine and earnest individual. He believes in going after what you feel you should, and working for what you want. He values skill very highly, and honesty is his golden policy. He drives himself hard in his pursuits, and has a great deal of pride in both his heritage, and the skills he has learned over the years. Alcander has an interest in different cultures and languages, thinking the diversity and history of different places is what makes mankind unique. He feels a certain sense of belonging when he is learning or even rereading something interesting that brings meaning to his mind. He tends to be understanding towards people, despite being quite hard on himself. His quick wit and fiery resolve often gives him a magnetic charm.
Habits:

• Chews Tobacco
• Watches the sun rise

Hobbies:

• Swimming
• Fencing
• Boxing
• Reading
• Horseback Riding
• Cooking

Fears:

• Growing old and weary enough to give up his pursuits.
• To be stuck in one place forever.
• To lose credibility.

Likes:

• Hot Days
• Trying new food
• Whiskey
• Old Books
• Adventure

Dislikes: 3 minimal

• Smoking
• Gossip
• Shallow opinions/thinkers
• People who settle for mediocrity
• Closed minded people
• Braggarts
• Unneeded small talk (other than friendly greetings)

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A Memory:

History: Alcander was born Ft. Lauderdale, Florida to Nestor and Candice Mires. Both parents were of Greek origin, but dual citizenship with the U.S., having married 4 years before his birth. His mother was a stay at home wife and his father served in the Spanish American War, though he was an entrepreneur of valuables by trade. Alcander was born immediately after the war, and they stayed in America until he was age 7, when they moved to Brittany, France until he was 12 years old. His mother contracted a sickness, and died. His father got a new job opportunity in London, and Alcander spent the remaining years of his life until university there, though he often traveled with his father due to business, particularly in their ethnic homeland of Greece, though they visited places as far north as Novgorod and Gogland, as far south as Kenya, and as far east as Turkey. The Great War halted their travels, and his father was called home to fight. Alcander was only a scant few years too young to fight, but he would never forget waiting for his father to return to him over 3 years of brutal warfare, horrors even Alcander was witness to from their home in London.

He enjoyed reading old stories of myths and legends, as well as historical accounts of ancient conflicts. His wide range of experiences and exposure to artifacts and stories led him to excel in the University of London, graduating with a master's degree within four years. He often enjoyed boxing and fencing in his downtime, when not at study. At age 21, he found himself on his first expedition in Turkey, during the AFranco-Turkish War. He fought for the French, disgusted at the Aremnian genocide and fighting with distinction for the French government, being discharged once the war was done. Since then he has traveled to the Sahara, Macedonia, Norway, and into Germany, though he did make sure to get out once the war began in earnest. He's since then decided to lay low, working as a mail clerk in Sicily. He was recruited by Thomas Cornack to aid in an expedition two months ago.

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Name:Robert Elliot Buchannan
Aliases:Ripper Jack
Age: 48
Nationality:Australian
Ethnicity: White
Current Residence: Wanderer
Gender: Male
Education: Spotty
Job: Jack of All Trades
Role:Muscle/Transport

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Height: 5'11''
Weight: 190 lb
Build: Wiry
Eyes: Blue
Hair: Brown
Skin Tone: Tanned
Tattoos/Scars/Piercings: Numerous shrapnel and bullet scars.
Personal Style:
Jack is a pragmatic old bushman. He dresses in practical clothing for outdoor work, usually in a combination of khakis and leather all weather gear. He habitually carries a swag with a wide variety of gear and equipment. He is seldom seen without a battered slouch hat with one side pinned up in Australian military fashion. The fashion of his dress makes him appear uncouth in formal society and all efforts to clean him up have thus far failed.

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Steady* Larakin* Tough* Heart of Gold

Sexuality: Heterosexual
Relationship Status: Widowed
Personality:
Jack is a rough and tumble bushman who grew up in the harsh wilderness of northern Australia. He comes from a tradition of rugged self reliance and practicality. He grew up droving and shearing and has imbibed the tradition of telling stories and tall tales. The sobriquet Ripper Jack actually derives from his fondness for telling stories, many of which are rooted in his own experience. Stricken with wanderlust from an early age he is restless by nature. While he is patient with a given task he is always eager to be on to the next one.

In his relationships with others he is no nonsense and can be a little standoffish at first. Once he gets to know someone however he is quite gregarious and extremely loyal.

Habits:
Smoking
Waking early to check the weather
Hobbies:
Whittles wood
Fears: 3 real fears that make your character unhinged

• Aging - Jack is afraid he isn’t getting any younger
• Failure
• Disease
• Fire - All pilots have an atavistic fear of burning alive.

Likes:

• The Sea
• Adventure
• Whiskey
• Telling Stories
• Flying

Dislikes: 3 minimal

• Brits - Enough said.
• Causes and Idealists - Big ideas get good people killed by the thousands.
• The unexplained - In his line of work, what you don't know is probably a Russian Sniper.

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A Memory:

“What did you just say to me?” the voice boomed in the confines of the club. The french lounge singer tried valiantly to keep up the tune but the faltering pianist rendered it an impossible task. The Chanson de la Lune was packed with soldiers, it always was, every man in the mud dreamed of getting away from the line for a few days to find forgetfulness in booze and companionship.

“I said you are a liar sar!” a high pitched English accent shrilled. The source of the disturbance were a group of six men playing cards around a table. All of them wore khaki uniforms, three were British, and two were Australian and the fifth man a canadian. The larger and older of the two Australians had shot to his feet, knocking his chair over in his haste, and now leaned forward on his knuckles. He was in his mid thirties with features that seemed chiseled from granite and covered with the well tanned leather of the tropic sun. His uniform was disheveled and mismatched, RFC insignia pinned nonchalantly to the breast of his jacket.

“Steady Jack,” the seated Australian implored eyes glancing around the mass of suddenly interested British and French officers.

“You dare call me a liar you poxy pommey bastard?! We were fighting the Boer while you were cowering in Pretoria!”

“Listen you damn colonial, my father was at Mafaking …”

“Mafaking!” sneered the big Australian, “Doing what? Hiding in a hole like the rest of you?”

The lounge exploded into chaos at the not so subtle accusation of cowardice. The brit shot to his feet and swinging a fist at the big Australian. Jack swatted the blow away and responded with a roundhouse blow that sent the brit sprawling across the table. A half dozen men charged to the defence of their countrymen fists cocked. Jack grabbed the edge of the heavy table muscles bunching as he lifted the card table and hurling it into the oncoming ruck of men, scattering them like ten pins. A bottle bounced of the side of his head with an unmusical thunk. Jack staggered back with a vicious oath before spinning to catch his new assailant by the shirt front. The musached officer had a moment to yell in shock before Jack dropped him with a vicious head butt that was audible even over the tulmult. A chair crashed across his back as one of the brits hit him from behind. Roaring in pain and rage he spun about and drove his fist into the man's jaw, sending him tumbling glassy eyed to the floor.

“Come on ya bastards, one at a time or all at once!”

Jack stood amidst the ruins of the The Chanson de la Lune. Unconscious men lay amidst a pile of shattered furniture and broken bottles. The big Australian had lost his jacket and his shirt hung open. A pressure cut in his scalp dribbled blood down the side of his neck and one eye was blackened and swollen shut. Several of his knuckles were split and bleeding and his body shone with sweat in the flickering electrical lights. The lounge singer peeked from behind the piano, which had been incongruously spared the destruction of the brawl, with wide scared eyes. Jack tried to wink at her but the left side of his face wasn’t working properly.

“Put your hands up and come quietly!” a voice boomed through a megaphone. Jack swiveled his head to the door where a dozen MP’s stood, riot batons in hand. The Australian contemptuously hacked a glob of spit and blood onto the floor before lifting his gaze to meet that of the nervous looking MPs.

“Yeah?”You and what bloody army?”he laughed before vanishing beneath a tide khaki uniforms and swinging batons.

History:
Jack Buchannan was born in Brisbane Australia in 1883. His father was an itinerant drover and took only a periodic interest in the boy. At thirteen he left home to strike it rich on the gold fields in northern Queensland. When that failed he took work as a drover and a shearer, while he didn’t make his fortune he did get a first class education in riding, shooting, brawling and living rough.

At the age of seventeen Jack knifed a man in a drunken brawl. Rather than wait around to talk to the authorities, he signed on to a tramp steamer headed for Singapore. After nearly a year of knocking about Southeast Asia he landed in cape town South Africa. Without a ship and with his pay vanishing he found his way north to where the British were raising a colonial regiment for the ongoing war with the Boers.

The Bushvelt Carbineers were a temporary unit put together to fight Boer guerrillas and Jack, always pugnacious, got his first real taste of action. It was a brutal baptism of hard fighting, hard riding and constant ambush and counter ambush. When the war ended in 1902 Jack regretfully parted ways with his comrades.

Once again unemployed, Jack took work where he could find it. Travelling as a crewman on steam ships, he found work as a mercenary in half a dozen minor conflicts from Bali to Nicaragua. He won fortunes in the jungles and lost them at the card table and never stayed in one place longer than he had to.

In early 1914, assured by old comrades that his youthful knifing had been forgotten, he returned to Australia with the intent of settling down. He purchased a small farm and married (to considerable scandal) a Bengali woman he had met in India some years earlier. Unfortunately peace was already crumbling. When the August Crisis broke the call went out to raise colonial regiments and Buchannan, now 31, enlisted in the AIF and was granted the rank of lieutenant.

Decorated for bravery during the disastrous Gallipoli Campaign, Buchannan fought with mounted division and was seriously wounded during the battle of Magdhaba and shipped to England to recover. While in the field hospital he befriended a Major Wren of the Royal Flying Corp who, under irregular circumstances, waggled him an appointment in the RFC. As an experience machine gunner he was a valuable addition to Wren squadron. Despite constant disciplinary problems the high attrition rates of 1917 put a premium on experienced men and Jack eventually attended flight training in England. By 1918 the former drover from the bush was flying scout aircraft over France.

After the armistice Jack volunteered for and fought in the abortive allied intervention in Russia where he was once again wounded. With the allied withdrawal he mustered out and returned to Australia. Upon returning home he found that his wife had been carried off by the Spanish Flu and that his property was besieged by creditors. After a rash of mysterious deaths Buchannan decided that it might be best if he left the country once again.

Since that time he has worked as a pilot and a mercenary in a number of ventures in Asia, Africa and South America. An aging veteran Buchannan is viewed as a versatile and dependable, if somewhat irascible asset.

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Name: Lucian DuBois
Aliases: le Chacal (Jackal)
Age: 36
Nationality: French
Ethnicity: French
Current Residence: Ajaccio, Corsica, France
Gender: Male
Education: Uncompleted colonial studies at the University of Lyon
Job: Soldier of Fortune, expedition guide
Role: Pathfinder and guide, African survival expert

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Height: 5’09”
Weight: 157 lbs.
Build: Mesomorph, defined musculature and broad shouldered.
Eyes: Green
Hair: Dark brown
Skin Tone: Caucasian with a defined tan
Tattoos/Scars/Piercings: Missing half of his left pinky finger, a trio of scars across his torso from blade and shrapnel wounds, a bullet wound in his right calf.
Personal Style: A man of practical tastes, Lucian prefers clothing of Earth tones that correspond to the climate. Flannel shirts, cotton trousers, fur lined coats, khaki safari suits, and great coats have all found their way on his person. One thing that remains constant on his figure is a light blue scarf and a chord necklace with a tooth or claw from the first of any predator he has taken down while in the African wilderness.

His hair and beard are kept somewhat in check, but practicality trumps any sense of high fashion that consume other men. His green eyes are stern and unwavering, exalting a sense of severity and danger that have dissuaded more hot headed counterparts on more than one occasion. Most of his pear-shaped face and somewhat gaunt cheeks are concealed by the wiry beard he keeps thick, although with a disciplined trim, and his complexion is unmarred by scarring and pox, save for those earned in combat. He is a man who seldom smiles nor seems particularly concerned about hardships. He is a man who looks like he emerged from the wilds and tamed it.

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Pragmatic * Unwavering * Dependable * Reserved

Sexuality: Heterosexual
Relationship Status: Single
Personality: A calm and collected individual, Lucian has always been a man who speaks sparingly and had never been one for gossip. More content to sit in a corner and observe than be the center of attention, he is a studious man who judges people on their dispositions rather than their words, being an individual who ultimately is a cooperative but not necessarily trusting with others, only stepping in when foolishness could lead to unwanted consequences.

Lucian has never been an easily shaken man, handling stressful and dangerous situations with a calm, collected manner that seem at odds with the chaos around him. From heavy shelling at Verdun to hostile tribesmen or being stalked by leopards, very few things seem to elicit a strong reaction from the Frenchman. That isn’t to say he is not capable of moments of ferocity and levity in generous measure, but ultimately he is a considerate and thoughtful man that always seems to have a plan and carries himself with a relaxed confidence that is reassuring to those around him.

A collector of handguns and revolvers from across the globe, as well as maps and flags and coins, Lucian has amassed a small, but impressive collection in his homestead in Corsica, often traveling with his model 1892 Lebel revolver and it is rare for him to return home after months-long expeditions without something to show for it. He drinks wines and fine liquors on occasion, preferring the ritual of the occasion rather than pursuing intoxication, and while not a regular smoker, Lucian does smoke to relax and to take the edge off of stress.

Habits:
* Social drinker and smoker
* Flips pencils, cartridges, coins, or other similar objects between his fingers when concentrating or passing time
* Chews finger nails to keep them short. Clippers aren’t always available
*Covers his mouth with a closed hand and open thumb when deep in thought.
* Cleans guns and sharpens knives daily, regardless of cleanliness or edge
* Boils his water prior to cooking, washing and drinking

Hobbies:
* Sustenance hunter, he harvests his kills, unless they are predators that pose a threat to himself or others
* Avid outdoorsman
* Recreational swimmer
* Enjoys weekly bonfires when possible
* Reading
* Studying languages and cultures of regions of interest

Fears: 3 real fears that make your character unhinged

• Gas, his experiences during the Great War have left him mentally scarred when he encounters mysterious smoke or strong scents, causing him to recoil and attempt to vacate the area if possible
• Contracting a crippling illness, after a particularly brutal bought of malaria and seeing the aftermath of the Spanish Flu and other jungle diseases, Lucian is rightfully health conscious and practices caution around those who appear to be ill and he takes pains to avoid leeches and mosquitos
• Being burned alive, another fear brought about from experiences during the war, nothing seemed quite as horrific as watching men slowly die in agony after being immolated

Likes:

• Learning about other cultures
• The outdoors
• Cooking up game
• The beach and salty sea air
• Wildlife watching
• Practicing marksmanship skills
• Traveling by ship
• Finding a mentally invigorating book

Dislikes:

• Crowds
• The cold and snow
• Leopards
• Poor manners and willful ignorance
• Bragarts
• Putting up with wet socks
• People prone to overindulgence

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A Memory:



History:

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Name: Lakshmi Opal Datta
Aliases: Formerly Lakshmi Bhatt when she was married. Was affectionately called Opal by her father before his passing.
Age: 27
Nationality: British
Ethnicity: Indian
Current Residence: Currently settled in a quaint apartment in the London Borough of Newham, England.
Gender: Female
Education: Graduated with a Bachelor's in Nursing from the Victoria University of Manchester.
Job: Started as an aspiring nurse, formerly a bored housewife, now a slightly less bored nurse for a small doctor's office.
Role: Nurse / Risk-Taker _{i.e. that one person who will do all that crazy jumping around kickin down bad guyz}

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Height: 165 cm
Weight: 49.9 kilo
Build: Pint-sized, toned
Eyes: Hazel
Hair: Black
Skin Tone: Dark Olive
Tattoos/Scars/Piercings: Has various Henna markings on her left hand, upper right arm, and both feet. There's an oddly shaped burn scar on her left shoulder blade.
Personal Style:
Preferring the finer things in life, Lakshmi is very used to gorgeous and rather expensive clothing. She usually calls them 'simple' garbs, but even those who know nothing of fashion know that anything she wears is probably worth more than anything they have in their houses. Simplicity is usually her aim, preferring using her curves to bring out the beauty in the garments.

She likes to look elegant at all times, her waist-length raven hair usually in a low, loose ponytail tied by a girlish white ribbon. Her round, upturned hazel eyes are likely her most striking feature, closely followed by her plump lips usually sporting a shade of red lipstick. Her 'adventuring' outfit consists of a short sleeved beige romper with a white collar, accompanied by a pair of brown mid-length boots. She'll usually try to wear more form fitting clothing on the trek, as the last thing she wants is to get caught on something.

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Sharp-tongued ♢ Polite ♢ Fearless ♢ Thrill-seeker

Sexuality: Heterosexual
Relationship Status: Widowed
Personality:
Lakshmi tends to give the impression of a graceful, exotic, submissive woman. Indeed, as soon as she opens her mouth, people are confronted with that image changing for better or for worse. While she always remembers to remain perfectly polite, sarcasm is her first language with English and Hindi a close second. She tries her damnest to prove herself, often getting irritated whenever her skills are in doubt (not that she can entirely blame them; her short stature leaves much to be desired). Ever the optimist, she looks for the silver lining even in the worst of situations. She knows to keep an open mind, although has a bad habit of 'act first, think second'. But hey, better to take a priceless vase and smash it over an intruder's head rather than freeze and yell for a man to save her, right?

She loves danger and the rush that accompanies it, an adrenaline junkie at her core. Whether it's climbing a mountain or scaling a building, if she thinks she can, she will. Despite her devil-may-care attitude, she tends to get offended when her abilities are in doubt. Her head is always thinking of what's happening in front of her, the future forever a mystery. She gets anxious if she thinks too hard on what she doesn't know and is determined to expand her horizons as a result.

Habits:

Hobbies:

Fears:

• Getting buried alive does not seem like fun.
• Ironically dying of catching some disease despite her profession.
• Leaving the world with no one to remember her is probably the reason she takes so many risks in the first place. If she dies, she'll go out with a bang.

Likes:

• Seeing the world
• Adrenaline rushes
• Stargazing

Dislikes:

• Doing nothing and getting bored
• People who don't take her seriously
• People who don't believe in her skills

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A Memory:

History:

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Name: Lysandra Maria von Brennenburg
Aliases: Nicknamed Lys (pronounced Lees) by her father and her close friends
Age: 25
Nationality: Austro-Prussian
Ethnicity: Prussian
Current Residence: She splits her time between London and her Family's estate in Prussia, Brennenburg.
Gender: Female
Education: Formally educated in History, with her Father giving her less formal lessons on climbing, shooting, general survival and other techniques applicable to explorers
Job: Explorer
Role: Scholar, Financier, Adventuress

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Height: 5'6" (167 cm~)
Weight: 130 lbs (59 kg~)
Build: Slender, yet noticeably fit
Eyes: Icy Blue
Hair: Black
Skin Tone: Pale white, tends to burn rather than tan
Tattoos/Scars/Piercings: Both ears pierced, typically wears small studs in them.
Personal Style: Lysandra gives off the impression of someone who cares about their appearance. Physically, she is naturally slender, however she has put much time into building her athleticism up and it shows. Her hair is pitch black like a raven's feather, with slight waves that get more intense the further down they get. She wears it slightly past her shoulders, down when she's in public and up in a functional ponytail when she is on a trek. Lys' features are sharp and her neutral expression is one that could be interpreted as disdainful. Despite this, she is considered conventionally attractive by most metrics. She has high-placed cheekbones and a thin, slightly upturned nose. Her lips form a slight pout neutrally, and her chin tapers off into a fine point. When she smiles her mouth gives off a warm, friendly glow. Her english is infected with a heavy german accent, but other than that she is eloquent and possesses a commanding voice, though she is not too skilled at singing.

For social functions she can usually be found in flowing dresses, preferably black ones involving fur. For more active clothes, she typically wears custom tailored Imperial Army trousers in grey, along with a field jacket in light blue. Underneath that she wears a white undershirt. Her boots are custom made to her specifications, made out of dark brown leather and reaching about mid-shin.

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Curious * Fearless * Resourceful * Driven

Sexuality: Bisexual
Relationship Status: Single
Personality: Lysandra loves to adventure. It's in her blood. Her father taught her to be curious and always look for hidden meanings where none appear. Normalcy bores her to a fault and she hates staying in one place for long. Civilisation causes her to become restless and irritable. However Lys finds that she can distract herself with parties, which she views as a type of adventure, the guests themselves a mystery of sorts to be unraveled. She thinks very highly of her father, who taught her most of what she knows. One thing that gets under her skin is failure. Failing at anything that she puts her mind to is highly demoralising for her. On the flip side, she cannot stand quitters, to her quitting is out of the question. She is impressed by anyone who has put considerable time into one or two talents, as she herself is prone to spreading her time out among various skills as opposed to just one or two. The thing that drives her to hunt for treasures, isn't necessarily the artifacts themselves (though she does possess more than a passing interest in their history and significance) it is the journey that truly captures her heart. Finally, despite her bad case of resting bitch face, she is usually quite cordial to anyone she meets.
Habits:

• Chews her hair while thinking
• Adores tasting alcohol, though she has trouble holding it

Hobbies:

• Fencing
• Climbing
• Drawing

Fears:

• Dogs
• Disappointing her father
• Being abandoned/left behind

Likes:

• Trying new drinks
• Meeting new people
• Hiking
• Challenges
• Climbing
• Dusk

Dislikes:

• Being bossed around
• The barking of dogs
• People who think less of her because she is a woman
• Arrogance

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A Memory:
History: Lysandra von Brennenburg is her father's daughter. The only child born to Konrad and Emilia, she has always somewhat lived in her father's shadow, but it's hard not to when your father is as well-known as hers. He has trekked the world over and made so many discoveries that they are too numerous to list here, the Kaiser himself as well as the Habsburgs had commissioned him to search for certain objects in the past and in his lifetime he had nearly doubled the family's previous modest fortune into one that would have them set comfortably for many generations. Her mother, Emilia, barely managed to see her daughter come of age before she passed of influenza. Her passing hardened Konrad's heart to all others outside of Lysandra, and only strengthened their bond. Of course this biography isn't about Konrad or Emilia, so you might be wondering why it opens with a paragraph about her parents. Well dear reader, it is impossible to properly introduce our heroine without mentioning them, for her father (whether intentionally or not) shaped her like clay in his own image.

Indeed, Konrad raised his daughter with a love for exploration and she took to it like a fish to water. Her education was mostly private, the finest tutors taught her the classics as well as French and English. The parts the tutors did not cover, her father did. He taught her fencing, hiking, climbing, shooting, riding, orienteering, swimming, and most other outdoor activities he enjoyed. She was his greatest student. After her private education she studied at the University of Berlin, where she received a history degree at her father's suggestion. For the next year or so she traveled, taking care of business for the family in a troubled post-war Europe. At 22 she went on her first minor excursion with her father to the Middle East. It was a huge success and one of Lys' fondest memories. However her father was aging, and it was to be his last time in the field. He was not one to sit and decay however, and still loved to send Lysandra out on expeditions of his own design after treasure he had discerned the location of.

Which brings us to the present day. Konrad had been a lifelong friend of Bradley Carnock and always wondered what had happened to the man since the outset of the Great War. So when he caught wind of Thomas' plan to send a party in search of his fate, he gladly sent his protégé and daughter Lysandra, as well as funds to assist in efforts to locate the missing archaeologist. Of course Lysandra was overjoyed at the chance to help her father as well as take on her first real challenge away from the guiding hand of her father.

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Name: Ellen Pelham, Countess of Yarborough
Aliases: Elle
Age: 36
Nationality: British
Ethnicity: Slavic
Current Residence: Brocklesby House, near Immingham, Lincolnshire, England.
Gender: Female
Education: Anthropology and Linguistic Anthropology
Job: Relic Hunter
Role: Tomb Raider/Relic Hunter

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Height: 5'7"
Weight: 140 lbs
Build: Athletic
Eyes: Brown
Hair: Brunette
Skin Tone: Tan
Tattoos/Scars/Piercings: She has some of all of those.
Personal Style: Despite her noble stature, El is all about comfort. Raised by a single father who took pride and joy in bringing his daughter with him on his adventures Elle adopted from early on a very unlady like style of dress. Leather britches and shirts, as well as her dad's worn pilot jacket. Not color blind per se, but definitely color challenged El usually sticks to easy color combinations and clothing articles in solid colors. Whenever her stature and position as Countess demands it, she does clean up nicely with the help of a few trusted family maids. Still, she feels very uncomfortable in any spiffy, fluffy female get up and would look to get out of it as soon as possible. I mean, seriously, have you ever worn a corset?! It's a torture device more than a clothing article. Even if it does perk the boobs up rather nicely!

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Straightforward * Loyal * Compassioned * Focused

Sexuality: Elle has a distinct preference towards female companionship
Relationship Status: Single
Personality: The adopted daughter to the bachelor Earl of Yarborough, Ellen grew up to be a very adventurous and happy young girl. Even with her father’s constant attempts to spoil her rotten little El never forgot her first seven years spent in abject poverty in her home country. Knowing all too well what it meant to have nothing the little girl grew to respect what she’d been offered and given by her adoptive parent. Still as any child was capable of, she quickly put the harsh life she’d lived before meeting the Earl behind and embraced her new one full tilt. She enjoyed the home lessons she received from her dad and select tutors and quickly became fascinated with her new father’s passion – archeology.

As a grown up Elle is a very straightforward no nonsense kind of person. She gets to the point fast and hard when necessary, but she is never heedlessly harsh or disrespectful. She is very loyal to those she loves and considers family or friends and can be very protective of those individuals. The harsher life of her early childhood and the consequent benevolence she enjoyed in the house of her adoptive parent all served to make El into a very compassioned individual. Sometimes she is empathic to the point of actual physical mimicry of others’ pains and sorrow. As a result she is very caring and will offer any aid she is capable of to help sooth a person’s ailment.

In her profession and occupation Ellen is very driven and focused. She holds herself to higher standards than everybody else as she believes one should never stop improving. For if you stop bettering yourself, you inevitably begin stagnating. And El is not one to sit still. She is a very active individual and whenever she is not on the hunt for the next ancient location, she is training her body and mind.

Elle is also a bit of a flirt. She’ll never lead the ladies on, but has learned that her roguish outlook is quite appealing to them and is not opposed to a bit of playful flirtation. However when it comes to romance and serious commitment, she is as dedicated and serious as she is with everything else in her life.
Habits:
- Sticks her tongue out a fraction whenever she’s concentrating on a task
- Runs the tops of her nails over her lips when she is lost in thought
Hobbies: Rock balancing
Fears:

• Fear of falling – Elle doesn’t have fear of heights per se, but rather an almost uncontrollable fear of falling. It doesn’t make her job easy in certain circumstances.
• Fear of puppets – an episode in Elle’s past, before she met the Earl made her terribly and irreversibly scared of any dolls and puppets, to the point of hysteria. It was hard on the Earl raising a young daughter he wanted to lavish attention on without being able to buy her all the new dolls and whatnot.
• Fear of chickens – yes, you read right. Elle becomes positively a madwoman if faced with the feathered birds.

Likes:

• Meditating
• Reading and writing
• Dancing
• Hiking
• Horses and riding
• Massages – giving and receiving them
• Cuddling up near the fireplace

Dislikes:

• Smoking
• Excessive drinking
• Rudeness
• Any dish with dill in it
• Riding sideways
• Needless violence
• Hypocrites

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A Memory: Elle woke up screaming in the huge soft bed, sweat plastering her long, mahogany hair to her pretty little girl face. Not soon after a soft wheezing could be heard from the corridor accompanied by hasty footfalls. Little El held her breath in fright for a moment before she remembered where she was. She released a sigh of relief just as the door opened slightly and the Earl poked his head in.
“Elle, are you alright, baby girl?” The man asked, entering the room carefully. The little girl he’d adopted was still a bit bashful around him. Especially at times like this and he knew to tiptoe around her, until she settled down and became more comfortable.
“I had a nightmare.” Elle sniffled and without hesitation snuggled up to the Earl, seeking comfort and protection. Richard held his breath in surprise and utter delight. It was the first time his adoptive daughter had sought his embrace so freely and without reservation. If he didn’t already love the little girl to bits, he would have fallen in love completely at this innocent gesture.
“Was it a monster?” He inquired quietly, embracing the girl gently, sifting his fingers through her damp hair to calm her down. Her small head shook ‘no’ against him. “Your mum and dad?” The Earl asked, his voice catching on the emotion behind the question. Elle just shook with renewed sobs. Richard hugged the girl a little more tightly and started talking slowly and quietly, telling his daughter the story of the lost continent Atlantis.
“El…” A voice called out at her. “El, baby girl…” At the familiar endearment Elle shook herself free of the memory and focused her dark gaze on her dad, Richard Pelham, Earl of Yarborough.
“What is it, da?” She asked with a bright smile, her soul still warmed by the sweet childhood memory.
The Earl grinned in response to his daughter’s happy countenance. “I asked you to tell me more about this Baron Carnock and his offer…”



History: Richard Pelham, Earl of Yarborough, was the last of his line and due to certain personal proclivities unable to produce an heir to continue his family line. With his parents no longer on this earth he had no one to nag him to take up a wife and sire the next generation of Yarborough nobility. He also didn’t care much for continuing the family line. Sure enough he cared for the people and lands in his earldom. He took his responsibilities as an Earl quite seriously. But he could not and would not betray himself and lay with a woman only to beget an heir. Thus, the Earl threw himself in his work, even hampered by his health as he was, suffering from asthma from a very young age. He never allowed this to trample his spirit of adventure.

When the Earl was twenty-nine years old he ventured into one of the smaller Eastern European countries that were none the less teaming with ancient history. It was there that he met the daughter he never dared dream of having. The girl had just lost her parents to poverty and famine and had not Richard taken her in, she would have probably suffered the same fate soon after. Thus began the new life of little Elena Docheva as Ellen Pelham, Countess of Yarborough.

The Earl doted on his adoptive daughter, the bond between the two of them solidifying with every single day. Little El received everything she’d been missing in her earlier life. Opportunities on top of the basics like food, clothes and shelter. Richard spared no coin to give his daughter the education she wanted and deserved. And Elle was a bright child and took to her lessons with hunger and fiery enthusiasm. She was a healthy and active child and while the Earl regretted not being able to join in on her physical fun, he made sure Elle had tutors in all sorts of physical disciplines the child found interesting, like riding, swimming, fencing and even eastern martial arts.

The Earl and his daughter grew closer and closer with the passing of time and Elle always travelled with Richard whenever he would venture out of his home country to his next adventure. So when the time came for El to receive her formal education, she already had a good amount of practical experience her peers in school lacked. The fact that she was nobility, even if adopted, helped grease the wheels of the patriarchal educational machine and Elle sailed through her higher education but still expending twice the effort any of the other students put in.



Even with her formal education in Anthropology and Linguistic Anthropology El was never really accepted by her male peers as a serious scientist and scholar, but they could not deny her her field work as she did not need their approval or funding to conduct that. Thus she became known as a Relic Hunter and Tomb raider more than an archeologist or anthropologist, regardless of the fact that her findings always found their way into museums whereas the findings of her esteemed colleagues tended to find their way more often than not into the hands of their filthy rich backers. Even more so when their discoveries originated in small and poor countries that didn’t have the political clout to fight for their historical heritage and were hungry for the bribe money.



Ellen didn’t mind her reputation if it meant history would not be lost in the private vaults of greedy old geezers who knew nothing of culture and ancient history but liked the status that came with owning treasures from long lost civilizations. To deny them their satisfaction El was prepared to undertake even to most dangerous and risky of adventures.

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Name: Florence Pearl Montgomery
Nicknames: Flo, Florry
Age: 27
Nationality: British
Ethnicity: White
Current Residence: Cambridge, England
Gender: Female
Education: University Educated: Degree in Classical History - Masters in Archeology with specialism in Mayan history.
Job: Research and personal assistant to Senior Professor at Cambridge University
Role: Scholar

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Height: 5'4"
Weight: 110lbs
Build: Lithe
Eyes: Blue/grey
Hair: Brunette, curly, shoulder length
Skin Tone: Porcelain
Tattoos/Scars/Piercings: None
Personal Style: Ever a wallflower, Florence always wears her hair in a loose chignon - several curly mousey strands frame her face. Her face is obstructed with horn rimmed glasses and she wears very little makeup. Her clothing style is modest, and she opts for earth-tones and stays away from bright colours in general. She wears looser fitting clothing, past-knee length skirts, and leather boots. She adds a feminine touch in either jeweled brooches or loose pussybow neck ties.

When she is working in the field, she will wear trousers, a shirt, and sleeveless jacket - usually with a cloche, her glasses are kept on a chain as she has a terrible habit of misplacing them - much to the amusement of her fellow colleagues.

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Shy * Clumsy * Bookish * Kind

Sexuality: Heterosexual
Relationship Status: Famously single
Personality: Florence is a shy and reserved individual, speaking mainly when spoken too - and very quietly at that. The only time she really seems to exude any confidence is when she is talking about her work, history, and the things that interest her. When discussing any of those things, she tends to ramble and fumble over her words - getting excited and caught up in it all, her co-workers have affectionately dubbed these "Florry's Flurries".

She is fortunate enough that her shyness has never really held her back much, she has a reputation amongst her peers for being kind and loyal, and a great listening ear. She is someone who lets her actions speak louder than her words. She has a solid work-ethic, and has spent her years studying to the point where she is often the smartest person in the room - she just chooses to hover on the sidelines quietly, letting others speak instead.

Her awkwardness manifests heavily in clumsiness - she frequently misplaces her glasses, pens, books, and tea cups. She has on more than one occasion almost dropped an artifact. Both her quiet nature, and her clumsiness have made her a bit of an oddity at the University - where while she has a stellar reputation for her kindness, she is routinely overlooked for many research projects, for opportunities to do field work, and to advance in her career.

Habits:
Bites her lip when deep in concentration
Cleans her glasses
Taps her fingers/foot often
Hobbies:
Reading
Playing Piano
Studying
Arranging flowers

Fears:

• Arachnophobia
• Acrophobia
• A fear of losing her mind/becoming forgetful

Likes:

• Books
• History
• Cats
• The sound of thunder and rain
• Afternoon Tea

Dislikes:

• Being laughed at
• Alcohol
• Any level of severe weather - overly hot or overly cold.
• Arrogance and closed-minded individuals

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History: Born the daughter of a famed Cambridge Professor, Archimedes Montgomery, and Cartographer, Pearl Esther Montgomery. It would seem that Florence's future was already written for her the moment she arrived as the only child of two incredible minds. Academia was the passion and undoubtedly the oxygen of the Montgomery household. From a young age, Florence loved to hear stories from her mother about classical history - about the myths and legends of Greece and Rome, and the Gods and Goddesses of Egypt. With her father being a Professor of Anthropology at Cambridge, it would seem that Florence had a head start in her academic life. She was destined for Cambridge herself and her father looked forward to seeing his daughter take the University by storm when she came of age.

Sadly his hopes for her were slightly dashed, when it seemed to be that Florence wasn't the confident and charismatic individual that he had hoped she would be. Instead of socialising and networking at his popular events, she would confine herself in their library and read. And read and read and read. He would barely hear a word from her. But yet, she was excelling in school, and she was far surpassing her peers and so he let it slide that she was a wallflower. Her mother was less forgiving of Florence's shortcomings. Often finding it difficult to display her disappointment at Florence, and regularly letting her daughter know she was embarrassed of her clumsiness.

By 15, Florence was helping her father do paperwork and inventory of books and artifacts at the University in the evenings. She found her home at the university indeed, and her father would use his influence to allow her access to the vast library to read on weekends. There was little else she could learn at school now, so eventually her father caved and by 17 she was enrolling in the university - again, her father used his influence to let it happen. She began her degree early in Classical History. As expected, she excelled in her studies, locked herself in the library, and was always seen carrying a book or two (or five) around the campus. Her father would watch her crossing the Cambridge greens with a satchel and arms full of texts, her glasses slipping down her nose, alone. The rest of the students seemed to pair up together and in groups - but Florence was rarely seen with others.

Upon completion of her degree at 20, things seemed to be looking up. Florence had made several friends, and secured work in the University library, she was starting to think about what she might like to take on for her Masters degree when it seemed out of nowhere that her father began to have trouble with his mind. It started with forgetting the odd lecture here and there, and developed into him having erratic mood swings and getting confused over simple procedures. Florence started spending less time at the University and more time at home with her mother, caring for her father after he was asked to step down from his position.

Overnight, his personality changed, and his entire demeanor altered before her eyes. Where once stood a man with an incredible ability to rattle off facts, there was now a frail and weak man unable to tell you the day. The final straw came when one morning, her father asked "who are you?" to his only beloved daughter. It shattered her. She and her mother had to relent, and send their father to a place where he could be cared for full time. 'Losing' her husband in this way took a toll on Florence's mother, and she was never the same after that.

Without the burden of taking care of her father, at 22, Florence went back to Cambridge - this time as a research assistant in the Archeology department. She thrived in this environment - she got to travel to dig sites with the seniors in the field. And boy did she love being in the field. Finally, people looked past the fact that she was quiet and just let her work without judgement. She began to write papers of her own, and publish her own work. She was taking Cambridge by storm at last, in her own unique way. She spent a year in Chiapas, Mexico when she was 25 exploring ruins of the Mayans. She got a taste for adventure here. She did well with translations and collecting artifacts for the University's private collection.

Now at 27, she has been unable to secure a promotion into Senior Professor - despite on paper being one of the best candidates. The people who hold a seat at the table have told her she isn't 'ready' for such a position just yet - in some cases choosing younger and more charismatic candidates, and so she has remained as a research assistant to the Senior Professor of Archeology, Theodore O'Connell, - who has been very unwilling to let her through the gates and into a promotion.

Growing tired and frustrated with the unchanging and overly traditional walls of the University of Cambridge, Florence now daydreams and pours over the pages of adventure novels - wishing for something to change in her life, for a new door to open. She grows restless of knocking at the door of Academia when it seems to never want to unlock for her....

Present
Florence was given a letter, intended to be answered by Theodore O'Connell, sent by the mysterious Baron Thomas Cornack. Professor O'Connell presumed that the Baron simply had another artifact to be collected from his estate to bring back to the University. He gave the letter to his assistant and sent her out to him in his stead.