[hider=abel][color=silver]
[center][b][h2]Abel James Wyatt[/h2][/b]

[img]https://i.imgur.com/QSQZgmq.jpeg[/img]

34 | M | 7th November | 6'1'' | 178lbs

( Daughter: Isabella Astel | 4 | F )[/center]

[b]Personality:[/b] Though once best described as impulsive and indulgent, Abel has thankfully mellowed out quite a bit over the years - recent years, in particular. Ironically enough, given his general appearance and the way he tends to conduct himself, many tend to mistake him for someone much older than he actually is. He certainly would describe himself as an old man, weary and tired from mistakes past and desperate to build something for himself. To his credit, he has somewhat managed to turn a new leaf over the past year or so, and things are looking up for him for the first time in forever. Now, he's holding onto that change with both hands, determined not to let go. He's figured himself out enough to know when he's about to do something stupid for the most part, and has worked to build replacement habits and ways to distract himself. Routine is his friend and savior, and to this day, he doesn't deal well with surprises. 

As far as first impressions go, the Abel of today is outwardly a calm and collected man, who tries his best to think before he acts or speaks, even if it means several awkward moments spent in silent contemplation. He has a sense of humour, always has, though it's gotten quite self-deprecating as of late. He considers that a good thing; he used to get very worked up when insulted, feeling his pride was wounded, but nowadays he welcomes slights and laughs along. There are worse things in life than being insulted, he would know. He's curious about technology in particular, and loves a chance to fix or build something with his hands; it's cathartic as hell.

However, it should be noted that while he somewhat has himself under control on a normal day, he hasn't been under extreme duress for a while, and fears he might resort to his old ways if push came to shove. Impulsivity is still part of him, after all. And while he hasn't been with his daughter for all that long, he knows he already feels protective enough over her that it startles him at times. And while getting violent to protect someone is quite different from getting violent to prove a point or while giving in to anger, it's not many steps removed, and he'd rather not go down that path at all, anymore.

[b]Phobias/Fears:[/b] Hurting people he cares about, alcohol relapse, losing control, growing old, ommetaphobia (specifically injury to/touching of eyes in general, and the feeling of being watched), being alone with his thoughts

[b]History: [/b] If you were to ask Abel about his life so far, he'd describe it as one bad decision after another, starting from his choice of friends in high school all the way to a poor investment decision earliet this very year. He's always been the type of person to follow his urges and live in the moment, with little regard for his future - and, now that he's living in said future, he wishes he could go back and start over.

Abel's teenage years and early adulthood were marked by many vices, but while some he could leave behind over the years, alcohol always stuck with him in particular. It was what he turned to whenever life was too tough, even though he hated who he became while under the influence. It took what little inhibitions he had, and that led to many a fight with strangers and friends alike. Even sending a friend to the hospital - or being sent there in turn by an armed bar patron he didn't even know - didn't quite manage to make him quit. 

Things weren't much calmer back home. In his mid twenties, he got into a long time relationship with a girl called Janette, who turned out to share his short temper. Fights were had, furniture was broken, and bad habits continued.

That was, until Janette got pregnant. Abel wishes he could claim his first reaction upon hearing the news was positive, but truth is, he was [i]terrified[/i]. He didn't feel ready for the responsibility, and he assumed Jane didn't, either. Turned out he was wrong; while he was shaking in his boots, Jane put her life in order. She stepped up to become a mother for a child neither of them had meant to have, and watching her, Abel eventually [i]swore [/i]to man up and do the same. And indeed, for a while, as they waited for their daughter's birth, things were [i]stable[/i], at the very least. They were building something; a home, a life, a family. Abel felt ready.

He was not ready. The sleepless nights, the stress, the financial distress, it all overwhelmed him in no time at all - and so, he turned back to old vices. And, realizing the sort of person he'd once again become, he left, figuring it would be better for the two. His presence would add little to their family but volatility and danger. It was one of the hardest decisions he made, and to this day he's unsure if it was also the worst, or the best. He didn't get to see Isabella grow up. She didn't have to see her deadbeat of a father. 

Even when Abel finally managed to fight his way into sobriety again, jolted by the realization that he was getting older by the day and should've been able to leave the insanity of his twenties behind if he ever wanted to make something out of his life, he didn't dare contact his previous family again. 

Until a few months ago. 

Abel received a call that Jane had been in an accident, and though her condition was stable, caring for a toddler on her own would be extremely difficult. If Abel ever wanted a second chance at being a father, now was the time, and he'd better not fuck it up, was the gist of what he was told.

And so, he made what he hoped was a good decision, and decided to [i]try[/i].

[b]Skills:[/b] 

[i]Physical prowess |[/i] Whenever Abel has managed to hold a job for any substantial amount of time, it's always been physical. Mostly construction, but he hasn't exactly been picky. That, along with his naturally large frame, means he's well suited for physical challenges. 

[i]Technology / IT |[/i] Abel knows his way around technology, and becoming a software developer is a longtime dream of his. He's never actually worked a job in IT before, but he's dabbled on his own time. It's one of the few things that has managed to hold his interest and keep his mind from wandering to unpleasant things.

[i]Fighter | [/i]While he's certainly not proud of it, Abel's been in his fair share of fights, and usually come out on top. He'd... rather not go back to that sort of thing anymore, but he hasn't quite managed to shake off the reflexes [i]or [/i]the paranoia, and does carry a knife with him to this day. Just in case.

In addition, while not [i]exactly [/i]a skill, Abel absolutely loves dogs, and though one would be forgiven for assuming otherwise, they generally tend to like (and listen to) him too. No, he doesn't feel like he deserves it either.

[b]Inventory:[/b] 

↦ Lighter (but notably, no cigarettes to accompany it; [i]progress[/i])
↦ wallet (with his id, a picture of his daughter, some cash and a few stamp cards)
↦ doggy treats (a must, just in case)
↦ pack of nicotine gum
↦ a pack of regular gum too, in fact
↦ switchblade
↦ car keys
↦ cellphone 
↦ water bottle
[/color][/hider]
[hider=ayame][color=silver]
[center][img]https://i.postimg.cc/hjvxT1cc/aka.png[/img][/center]

[color=#933f34][b]Name:[/b][/color]

[indent]Ayame Sakanoue[/indent]
[color=#933f34][b]Gender:[/b] [/color]

[indent]Female[/indent]
[color=#933f34][b]Age: [/b][/color]

[indent]879[/indent]
[color=#933f34][b]Race:[/b] [/color]

[indent]Kitsune[/indent]
[color=#933f34][b]Appearance: [/b][/color]

[indent]Though Ayame isn't the tallest kitsune around, only barely reaching the height of 5'3'', she carries herself with the poise of someone grandiose. Her gestures and movement are graceful and deliberately slow. She'll have you know she isn't about to ruin perfectly fine heels by running or wrinkle expensive fabric by flailing about, so if there's a hurry, you'll carry her or wait. And while she speaks formally and politely enough, her tone makes it clear she considers herself the most important person in any given room.

Ayame's eyes are easily the most expressive part of her, and they readily offer glimpses of her real mood even when the rest of her face doesn't. They are deep brown in colour and often accentuated by red make up. She 
has long, dark brown hair cascading down her back, featuring various decorations and hairdos, depending on the day. Though she used to dress only in traditional clothes, she's recently been persuaded to try some of the more modern, easy-to-move-in variations, and she's fallen in love. Unfortunately, for someone as fussy about her appearance as Ayame, she tends to not really understand modern fashion, and mixes and matches clothes at will with no regard to how they look as a whole. [/indent]
[color=#933f34][b]Personality: [/b][/color]

[indent]While Ayame looks kind and harmless, almost [i]serene [/i]from afar, let not appearances fool you. The second she opens her mouth, you know she's a headache waiting to happen. She's fussy, bossy, and expects her every whim to be catered to. She loathes work, especially physical, and takes every shortcut possible to laze around, explore the human world at her leisure or indeed, just groom herself. She has no problem throwing away her pride and acting like a damsel in distress, even if she was fully capable of solving a situation herself, and tends to hold onto comfort tooth and claw. She's cunning as well, as foxes tend to be, and isn't afraid to use it to get what she wants.

With that said, there [i]are [/i]things that can indeed get this lazy fox moving, even if begrudgingly. For one, she's morbidly curious. Having lived a very sheltered life, everything in the modern human world is a wonder to her, and she simply cannot sit idly by if something piques her interest. Unfortunately personal space or personal belongings aren't words she's awfully familiar with, so if she takes interest in something yours, it's now hers. She also loves to learn, and a good book is an effective way to get her to mind her own business for a time. 

Ayame [i]is [/i]also aware that with the contact she made, she did agree to put in work when called for. And while she might complain throughout, she isn't one to betray promises - much less let someone she has grown somewhat fond of die because of her. Come now, she isn't a monster! Besides, she isn't suited for living alone, and servants are difficult to come by in modern age.
[/indent]
[color=#933f34][b]Background: [/b][/color]

[indent]Ayame can hardly think of anything more boring than truthfully recounting her almost nine hundred years of life. While one would think a mischievous fox could fit a number of adventures into an almost millennia of existence, Ayame spent most of that time living a sheltered life in a mountain village of her kin, praying to gods dictated to her by tradition and duty. Every few hundred years she managed to slip away unnoticed and cause mayhem in the form of a human woman, only to be forced to flee and hide away when a few people too many grew suspicious of her. There were times when the kitsune had such a bad reputation that even innocent women were accused of being one of them, and times when their existence was thought but a myth. 

Ever since a particularly bloody conflict a few hundred years back, however, Ayame's clan withdrew deeper into the mountains and swore off all contact with humans altogether. Ayame, wounded from a fight, didn't argue for once. Being the daughter of the village chief, she found she rather enjoyed the way others worried for her and carried out whatever menial task she asked while she was recovering. She got used to being pampered, and used to living comfortably. And so passed the centuries.

Then, only a few decades ago, travelers found their way to the kitsune's haven. Youkai that told peculiar tales of a changed world, one in which humans and youkai had slowly learnt to coexist. They spoke of their travels and the wonders of modern technology, and Ayame's wanderlust and curiosity alighted anew. She listened, wide-eyed like a kit, and soon found herself sneaking out from the comfort of her home to see this supposedly changed world. 

But where she was once as cunning and resourceful as they came, a life lived in lazy luxury had left her unprepared for... well, basically anything. She soon found she couldn't really take care of herself, being unfamiliar with both the concept of work and the world around her. That was when she met Karin, and entered a contract with her. Her powers, in exchange for a guide in an unfamiliar world. The two have their differences to say the [i]least[/i], but there certainly have been no dull moments in their travels.
[/indent]
[color=#933f34][b]Abilities: [/b][/color]
Years of not really using her powers have dulled them to a great degree, but she still has command over the basics.

[indent]- Ayame is able to create and control lightning, as well as mold it into different shapes or imbue it into objects. This is her most offensive ability, and the pair's primary means of combating the Grudges.

- While she can no longer possess people outright, Ayame can still affect the minds of others. She can make them see or hear things that aren't there, give them brief visions or haunting thoughts, and even influence their actions to a degree. The target's own personality and strength of will affect how much she's able to do, and Grudges are immune to being influenced - though they can still be made to suffer from illusions.

- In a similar, illusive vein, Ayame can make herself invisible for a time. This doesn't mute sounds however, and the use of lightning will break the invisibility. 

- Finally, she can turn into a fox. Just. A regular fox. With an [i]exceptionally [/i]shiny coat.[/indent]
[color=#933f34][b]Skills: [/b][/color]

[indent]Nothing of particular note. On the contrary, you've probably never seen a person as useless at any sort of house work.[/indent]

[/color][/hider]
[hider=wager][color=gray][table][row][/row][row][cell]
[b]Name[/b]
[sup]▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔[/sup][indent] [url=https://www.myth-weavers.com/sheet.html#id=2717649][color=gray]Wager[/color][/url][/indent]

[b]Age[/b]
[sup]▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔[/sup][indent]38[/indent]

[b]Gender[/b]
[sup]▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔[/sup][indent]He/him[/indent]

[b]Sexual Orientation[/b]
[sup]▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔[/sup][indent]Bisexual[/indent]

[b]Languages[/b]
[sup]▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔[/sup][indent]- Common
- Infernal
- Abyssal[/indent]

[b]Specialties[/b]
[sup]▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔[/sup][indent]Wager specializes in subterfuge (deception, persuasion), assessing others (insight) and to a lesser extent, knowing bits and pieces of arcane lore (Arcana). But really, he'd say his real specialty is his dashing smile. [/indent]


[/cell][cell][quote][center][img]https://i.postimg.cc/tT3hNRqh/fa1d03adb08d837624d014f3ec79847e.jpg[/img]

[sub]Warlock - Chaotic Neutral - Tiefling[/sub]
[color=2e2c2c][sup]▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔[/sup][/color]
[/center][indent][b]Personality[/b]
[sup]▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔[/sup]
[indent]
Wager is the type to look suspicious even when just breathing, and that seems to suit him just fine. He isn't one to worry needlessly - or even when needed, really - and takes most things in a stride. In his almost forty years of life lived to the fullest, he's heard every insult, faced every setback and survived impossible odds so many times he's earned his moniker. To this day, he lives for thrills and is disconcertingly willing to risk it all for a moment of adrenaline, fame or pleasure. He's hedonistic and changes his mind more often than his clothes - which says a lot, considering he owns more hats than one can count. 

But though he comes with a long list of vices, Wager isn't a bad person per se. He's sociable and pleasant enough a person to talk to as long as you don't try to engage in any serious topic that'd bore him. And though he is self-serving and irresponsible, he never sets out with the plan to cause others mischief or harm. On the contrary, he is willing to help whomever as long as there's something in it for him. Sometimes a thanks will do; other times he'll do it for the experience alone. If you've got a face he fancies, he'll help [i]and [/i]treat you to a drink afterwards. Now isn't he a gentleman?
[/indent]
[/indent]

[indent][b]Background[/b]
[sup]▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔[/sup]
[indent]Name any profession of ill-repute, and Wager's likely at least dabbled in it. From a decoy to a thief and a smuggler, he spent his younger years trying to get by through whatever means necessary. The older he got and the more connections he made, the wider his job opportunities - and the longer his list of enemies. Eventually, he grew tired of a life lived constantly on the edge, and made an earnest attempt at turning over a new leaf. For a couple of years in his mid twenties, he ran an honest business and managed to get on his feet as a respectable member of society.

But old habits died hard, and he soon found himself missing the thrills of his previous life. His risk-seeking behaviour led him down a rabbit hole of gambling, and he soon found that he could make a better fortune playing cards and throwing dice than he ever could in his mundane day job. Especially if he, [i]well[/i], took some liberties with the rules. He found success, enemies, danger and glamour, making a name for himself in one of the land's largest cities - until a certain incident a year or so ago.

A peculiar, drunken man out of coin decided to bet a small, ugly statuette of a misshapen man in lieu of cash, and Wager happened to win it. He had half a mind to throw the abomination away, but ended up finding out it was more than met the eye. Apparently, it was the prison of a Genie - an Efreeti, to be precise, and it had absolutely not been meant to be gambled away on a drunken whim. It didn't take long for it to dawn on Wager that he'd gotten involved with some dangerous lot, and so he took his belongings and skipped town before anyone could come chasing after him. 

Since then, partnership with a Genie has given Wager some new-found powers - and another surge of risk-seeking behaviour.

[/indent]
[/indent]
[indent][b]Starter Equipment[/b]
[sup]▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔[/sup]
[indent]- Hollow Statuette
- Arcane Focus
- Scholar's Pack
- Leather Armor
- Dagger x4
- Dice Set
- Fine Clothes
- Lucky Charm
[/indent]
[/indent][color=2e2c2c].................................................................................................................................................[/color][/quote]
[/cell][/row][/table][/color][/hider]
[hider=Leifur, the Gunbreaker][center][img]https://i.imgur.com/8641bQb.jpg[/img]

[i][color=#915027]"I'm here to save you. Now move. Or die; the choice is yours."[/color][/i][/center][color=silver]
[color=#915027][h1]GENERAL INFORMATION[/h1][/color]
[color=#915027][b]Name:[/b][/color]

[indent]Leifur Guðmundsson[/indent] 
[color=#915027][b]Age:[/b][/color] 

[indent]Almost 100, but he's not counting. Appears around 30.[/indent] 
[color=#915027][b]Gender:[/b][/color] 

[indent]Male[/indent] 
[color=#915027][b]Race:[/b][/color] 

[indent]Viera[/indent] 
[color=#915027][b]Origin:[/b][/color] 

[indent]Due to the nomadic nature of his people, Leifur isn't sure where exactly he was born, nor does he feel more at home in one place over another. He's spent his recent years in Skael Garden, however.[/indent]  
[color=#915027][h1]COMBAT INFORMATION[/h1][/color]
[color=#915027][b]Class:[/b][/color] 

[indent]Gunbreaker.[/indent]
[color=#915027][b]Weapon:[/b][/color] 

[indent]Eldgos, a long gunblade geared towards mid-range combat. It's capable of firing rounds as a rifle would, as well as cutting down enemies that manage to get too close. Not particularly sturdy, Leifur likes to keep his distance when able, only dipping into melee range for a moment, then triggering an explosion mid-slash to send himself backwards with the recoil.[/indent]
[color=#915027][b]Inventory:[/b][/color]

[indent]➻ [color=#915027]Potions[/color] [2] | Standard issue for any self-respecting Seed, ex or not. He used to have more, but a few were used recently to tend to injured civilians.

➻ [color=#915027]Cockatrice claw[/color] [1] | A reward from the Garden for a past job well done, Leifur holds onto it for emergencies.

➻ [color=#915027]Spare bullets [/color]| For Eldgos. Enough to last him a while; who knows when he's able to restock.

➻ [color=#915027]Basic travel supplies [/color]| Contains rations, a tent, a waterskin, a sleeping bag, and so on. Though if it doesn't rain, he much prefers sleeping under the stars. Old habit.

➻[color=#915027] Assorted junk [/color]| Broken pieces of technology he's picked up along the way. He doesn't know what they do, or did when functional. He just likes to tinker with them.[/indent]
[color=#915027][b]Materia:[/b][/color] 

[indent][color=#915027][i]Speed plus[/i][/color] | Needing to weave between melee and ranged combat requires speed, and though Leifur's long legs provide him with plenty, there's no such thing as going [i]too [/i]fast. This materia helps him avoid attacks, be where he needs to, and catch enemies by surprise while at it.

[color=#915027][i]Destruct[/i] [/color]| In lieu of - or in combination with - bullets, this materia allows Leifur to fire particularly heavy-hitting shots, or to imbue his slashes with destructive might. Particularly useful when faced with heavily armoured enemies, or those protected by barriers that regular shots have trouble piercing.[/indent]
[color=#915027][b]Limit Breaks:[/b][/color] 

[indent][color=#915027][i]The Hurrier I Go[/i][/color] | Leifur moves fast enough to become a blur for a moment, quickly slashing a number of close by enemies, each hit triggering an explosion at point-blank range.[/indent]
[color=#915027][h1]PERSONAL INFORMATION[/h1][/color]
[color=#915027][b]Appearance Details:[/b][/color] 

[indent]Standing at 6'3'' without accounting for his ears, Leifur is tall even for a viera. Most of his height can be attributed to his long legs, and if one were to count the ears, they'd add another ten inches to his frame. The fur on his ears is short and rough, matching his hair in colour; jet black, though the latter also features red highlights. He typically wears his hair in a high ponytail to keep it from getting in his way.

Leifur is more muscular than many other viera men due to needing to survive on his own for so long, and can wield his weapon at ease even when in full armour. Granted, his armour isn't very heavy so as to not hinder his mobility or legwork. 

He has often been told that his face isn't very expressive, and it is no exaggeration; you'd be hard pressed to try and read Leifur's mood from his face, which seems to be permanently stuck in a scowl. His voice is low, and he tends to mumble.[/indent]
[color=#915027][b]Personality:[/b][/color]

[indent]Leifur is a man of few words, typically preferring to express himself through actions. A wise choice in most cases, as he tends to be blunt to a fault and often comes across as meaner than he intends to. Far be it from him to try and clear such misconceptions either. He knows well enough he'd just make matters worse, and it's hardly worth the trouble. He isn't that concerned with the opinions of others, anyhow.

Though it's difficult to believe, neither guilt, age nor years spent rigorously training and fighting have managed to rid Leifur of his natural curiosity. He will be the first one to scoff at any new piece of technology that's presented to him, but also the first one to listen in when such things are discussed, or to try and sneak a closer look when no one's looking. New things excite him, and to this day they drive him to wander. He's a surprisingly good listener even if everything about him might signal otherwise, and has an impressive memory - so be careful what secrets you might spill with Leifur as a witness. Not that he has anyone to tell them, mind.

To this day, Leifur feels guilt over the consequences of his reckless actions back home, but he's run too far and too long to turn around and check up on his tribe now, so tries to relieve his guilt in other ways instead. He's not the first one to jump into the fray to save another, but he [i]is [/i]the one to do it if no one else seems willing, and he will accept no objections. He's not one to linger after his job has been done however. Leifur is a free spirit who feels no particular connection to any person or place, having joined the Garden more for the access to training and work than any sense of patriotism. [/indent]
[color=#915027][b]Biography:[/b][/color] 

[indent]Nothing of particular note happened during Leifur's first few decades of life - and that was precisely what started his downward spiral into vagabondry. 

When young, he didn't think to mind the role assigned to him at birth. Like the rest of his tribe's men, he was content with following behind the women of their kin, only ever witnessing new lands once they'd already been deemed safe and hospitable for their stay. They were the second to face danger in the great unknown, the second to claim the spoils of unmarked territories, the second to everything. New discoveries only came in the form of tales told by the pioneers; the strongest and bravest of viera women, and that was fine. 

Until it wasn't.

Leifur was always the curious sort, and as years dragged on, the lack of danger, excitement and discovery started to eat at him more and more each time news reached their half of the tribe - until, one day, the man could no longer bear it. Around twenty summers old, he was still young as a sprout by viera standards, and his recklessness was proof enough of that. With no real plan, he snuck away from his peers with the hopes of shadowing the women leading the expedition to new lands. He didn't manage to hide for long however, not from eyes and ears trained to spot hidden dangers. He was sent back to his peers with a scolding and told in no uncertain terms not to try such a thing again; his life could have been in danger, had the warriors shot before realizing who was tailing them.

But though Leifur had managed to see little of interest during his short stint as a wannabe scout, the exhilarating feeling he felt when sneaking about in forbidden territory stayed with him for a long while. So much so that he dreamt of doing it again, even if it was dangerous. 

Then, one day, the tribe happened upon a sight that Leifur was told was common: a lone mystrel man, out and about fishing in a nearby river. He was no threat to the tribe nor the tribe to him, and so they let each other be for the most part. Leifur was fascinated by this strange new creature however, and the two soon ended up talking. Leifur was told that it was common for his kind to travel the world alone, and by the time the two parted ways as the tribe begun their trek anew, Leifur was smitten by the man's way of life. He wanted nothing more than to imitate it, but was told time and time again that viera were not meant to be alone.

Leifur left the tribe for the first time only a few months later. He didn't dare venture far, and he returned before sunrise, but the feeling of traversing a dark forest all alone, though scary at first, was enough to keep him awake for days on end. So he did it again. Each time he ventured further and further away, not towards the viera women who'd no doubt spot him, but towards the vast, expansive [i]everything else.[/i] There were so many other directions to walk.

Then, one fateful night, he didn't return alone. He'd been followed. Worse, those that followed him meant his little tribe harm, and harm they inflicted indeed. To what extent, Leifur doesn't know. Like many others, he ran into the night and didn't look back. Ever since, he wandered the world alone, just as he'd wanted. It was more difficult than he'd ever imagined, but no less exciting. For the first time in his life, he felt free, if aimless and guilty for the way he'd earned such freedom. 

Years later, jaded and penniless, Leifur ended up enrolling to the Garden. Backed by an instructor he'd saved during his travels and a made up backstory, there were nevertheless those suspicious of him and his intentions, and so tabs were kept on him at all times. He was trained in the ways of combat and espionage and became a sellsword, earning his coin by fighting whatever he was told to for years on end. He even took part in the war, even if he had no allegiances to either side. The things he saw - and did - there left him a changed man, however. Leifur always felt guilty for enjoying a freedom he got through a mistake that likely cost lives, and continuing to exist through the suffering of others felt altogether wrong. Not to mention the academy's attempts at limiting his freedom, always wanting to know where he was. So, once again, he left, becoming an independent bodyguard for hire instead. 

Today, having long since graduated from the Garden, he only maintains a loose - and not always pleasant - connection to them. Every now and again he takes on a few particularly difficult missions for the good of the people, and for the past few years, most of them have had to do with keeping monsters at bay. Needless to say, he did not hesitate for long once he caught wind of Leonhart's plea, and neither did the Garden; they ushered him to travel to Edren posthaste. 
[/indent]
[color=#915027][b]Traits:[/b][/color]

[indent]- Used to have overly sensitive ears, but due to being subjected to the noise of his gunblade for years on end, has learnt to tolerate loud sounds. High pitched ones still give him headaches, though.

- Is wary and distant (more so than usual) around other viera, but still addresses viera women politely out of habit. They're the only ones he extends this courtesy to.

- Should not be let near any sort of technology, as he has a habit of breaking whatever device he touches.

- Surprisingly fussy about his hair, and wishes he knew how to braid it - but is too embarrassed to learn, let alone have others see him do such a thing.

- Bad with money. Is probably in debt [i]right now[/i].[/indent]
[color=#915027][b]Relationships:[/b] [/color]

[indent][color=#915027]The Skógfæddur [/color]| Leifur's old tribe, whose whereabouts and status are unknown to him now. He likes to keep it that way; it means there's always a chance they managed to recuperate and prosper. The thought keeps the guilt at bay.

[color=#915027]Tadej [/color]| A rival he met at the Garden, Tadej is a mystrel lacking both manners and caution, and the sole reason why Leifur's once undying respect for mystrel men has all but vanished. Their kind's freedom and bravery were wasted on this one, he reckons. 

[color=#915027]Isadora Sunsworn[/color] | Sollan weaponsmith responsible for Eldgos's maintenance, who treats the weapon as her baby. But then, that's what she does with just about any modern weapon. Leifur is exasperated by her boundless energy and annoyed by her insistence on the superiority of modern technology, but she's good at what she does, and he never leaves her workshop without learning at least something new.[/indent][/color][/hider]
[hider=Emma][color=silver]

[center][img]https://i.imgur.com/CVjpqvt.jpg[/img]
[h1] [color=#5f6eaa]Emma Badeaux[/COLOR][/H1]
[color=#5f6eaa]——————————————————————————————————————[/COLOR][/center]

[color=#5f6eaa][indent]"ℙ𝕖𝕠𝕡𝕝𝕖 𝕕𝕠𝕟'𝕥 𝕗𝕖𝕒𝕣 𝕥𝕙𝕖 [b]𝕕𝕒𝕣𝕜[/b]; 𝕥𝕙𝕖𝕪 𝕗𝕖𝕒𝕣 𝕨𝕙𝕒𝕥 𝕝𝕦𝕣𝕜𝕤 [b]𝕨𝕚𝕥𝕙𝕚𝕟[/b]. [/indent]
[right][indent][indent]𝕀 [b]𝕓𝕖𝕗𝕣𝕚𝕖𝕟𝕕𝕖𝕕 [/b]𝕚𝕥."[/indent][/indent][/right][/color]
[table][row][/row][row][cell][indent][/indent]
[right][color=2E2C2C]—————————[/color][/right][img]https://i.imgur.com/mYRb18P.png[/img][/cell][cell]There was once a young girl that feared the dark.

Born among the neon lights of the wealthy inner districts, dark was not a constant companion to her. It did always lurk at the edges of her existence, patient, waiting, but it was only at night that it took over her entire world. Her parents knew not about her plight, all t

er parents shut them off - but the absence of light gave way for monsters. Under the bed, in her closet, nibbling at her hands and feet if she dared dangle them outside the safety of her blanket. Her parents told her the supernatural exists, yes, but they are safeguarded against it and there is no need to worry. There are no monsters here.





while The girl was at an impasse; she could not sleep

s
he 


only had to suffer from the dark at night, when



Her parents were among the lucky few to be born in Outis' inner districts, and they lacked little. Looks, wealth, health and children so well-behaved that even neighbours would sing their praises upon passing by. There truly was only one thing the family did not have in excess, and that was time. 

Time was all X would have wanted.

She was the second youngest of five siblings. Young enough to need parental attention, old enough to not be its primary r


Light hurt her eyes,


what the family
 didn't have was time - for you cannot 

She didn't know the stranger's intentions; not about the gun behind his back, not about his hopes for a ransom, nor about the car waiting outside. The monsters she knew didn't wear suits.

She tried to warn the man of her monsters. She knew they'd attack. So certain was she, that the world bent to her will, and creatures that defied all logic poured out from the shadows to assail the man. His gun was of no help, for what sort of a bullet can pierce darkness?

The girl's name was Emma. [i]Is[/i] Emma, because in this story, the real monster didn't win.

She's 22 this year, and no longer fears the dark. She's looked into its depths, seen all its horrors, and given them names. To this day, they come when she calls.

[/cell][/row][/table]
[indent][indent][indent][color=#5f6eaa]Armaments:[/color]

[indent]None; petite and untrained in the art of combat on her own, Emma has no skill in wielding any weapon, traditional or otherwise. [/indent]


[center][img]https://i.imgur.com/Tu6ain9.png[/img][/center]
[color=#5f6eaa]Abilities:[/color] 

[indent]Emma is able to manifest the creatures she believes live in the shadows to sunder and devour whatever may stand in their way. Their forms are fluid, always shifting with the whims of her imagination and fears, but they resemble animals more often than not. They did originally spawn from a child's mind, after all, back when beasts were scarier than man. Though of late, some have taken a more humanoid shape, and can even outwardly resemble the types of immortals she's fought recently.

The strength of the creatures varies; in pitch black darkness they can be everywhere all at once, their number limited only by Emma's capability to output vitas. Under the blare of intense neon lights, she struggles to bring them forth anywhere except the darkest of corners.[/indent]

[color=#5f6eaa]Other:[/color]

[indent]- Emma has trouble befriending real life animals, as they tend to shy away from her upon approach. 
- She is left handed.
- Always carries around a parasol, which many assume to be a blessed weapon. It's not; it's simply a way to "protect" herself from unwanted light.[/indent][/indent][/indent][/indent][/color][/hider]
[hider=Nadijah][COLOR=silver][CENTER][IMG]https://i.postimg.cc/15GHdtmz/tgvhjklmkkjnvcfghjk.jpg[/IMG]
( will try to find another pic later, I know that's fanart of Urbosa ): )[/CENTER]

[B][COLOR=#b12e2e]Name:[/COLOR][/B]

[INDENT]Nadijah of the Razordancers; second daughter of Farajah, the One-Eyed Watcher of the Sands. Or Nadi for short.[/INDENT]
[B][COLOR=#b12e2e]Race:[/COLOR][/B]

[INDENT]Gerudo[/INDENT]
[B][COLOR=#b12e2e]Gender:[/COLOR][/B]

[INDENT]Female[/INDENT]
[B][COLOR=#b12e2e]Appearance:[/COLOR][/B]

[INDENT]Nadijah is a striking sight to behold - [i]literally[/i], because she's liable to thrust a weapon your way before offering a hello. Dark skinned and built with lean muscle, she stands at an imposing 6 feet and then some, tall among her people, taller yet in the eyes of foreigners. As is expected of a proud Gerudo, Nadijah carries herself with the poise and pride befitting a warrior - most of the time, anyway. It doesn't take much to make her drop into a battle pose when startled, or down into a squat to pet whatever strange fluffy creature she comes across.

Nadijah's hair is a fiery red as is common for her kind, tied back in a messy ponytail. The deep bronze of her skin is contrasted by the green of her eyes; light, like saplings. Or so she's been told; saplings are a rare sight in the desert. She doesn't carry much in the way of clothes, her heritage ensuring that she needs little protection even in the hot summer sun of the desert. She does have a cloak on her person for when she needs to keep a lower profile or shield herself from the cold (or her understanding of cold, anyway - please don't let her ever see snow) but in general she finds armour and heavy clothing too restrictive. Anything that makes her movement less fluid must go. This does mean that the signs of battles past lay bare to the naked eye; burns from fire magic, cuts from claws and blades. 

One would think that the many weapons she carries around would be more a hindrance than another layer of leather, but her priorities are rather set in stone. Her twin scimitars, bow, and dagger mean the world to her, and if she could have strapped her warhorse to her back to carry it around on her journey, she would have. No, really. [I]She would have.[/I][/INDENT]
[COLOR=#b12e2e][B]Personality: [/B][/COLOR]

[INDENT]Nadijah is first and foremost a warrior of her tribe, duty-bound to protecting her land and people come what may. She's prideful and matriotic, and has been known to react badly to any perceived insult towards her country or kin. Xenophobic and mistrustful of 'outsiders' - particularly those of voe variety - she is difficult to approach and even more difficult to befriend. Not that you'd want to befriend her based on first impressions anyway; she's stubborn, hot-headed and lacks the common courtesy not to voice unpleasant opinions out loud in polite company.

With that [I]said[/I], she's well aware that it's one of her own who's responsible for the world's current, sorry state, and the guilt has dulled her sharp tongue somewhat. After all, when outside the valley, she indirectly represents her people, and should strive to contrast Ganondorf's actions. She's-- just not always successful at it. Impatience is her greatest sin, and she wasn't blessed with much forethought; if she wishes something to happen, it ought to happen [I]now.[/I] Consequences be damned.

But though she's ridden with faults, she is no monster. Nadijah's bluntness ensures that you will get an honest opinion should you ask for it, and it also makes her a poor liar. She fiercely cares for her own, and is willing to risk life and limb for a cause she believes in. And though she holds no [I]love [/I]for foreigners, she at least holds an immense amount of curiosity towards them, being both willing and eager to learn about them and theirs. True, this willingness stems from the thought that one should know their enemy to best fell them, but could eventually, perhaps, lead to grudging respect-- maybe even [S]friend-[/S][I]acquaintance[/I]ship.

Of course, as often is the case with Nadijah, she takes this curiosity a tad too far. Rude and intrusive questions aren't uncommon of her, and neither is downright poking, prodding or snatching things that she wishes to examine closer. So keep your fancy gadgets and especially unique weapons far away from her. She will get aggressively giddy over the latter and pelt you with questions until her curiosity is sated. This also goes for critters of the grasslands. Many of them she's only seen in storybooks, so don't worry if she tries to precariously pet a wolf. It's the latter that's in danger.[/INDENT]
[COLOR=#b12e2e][B]Background: [/B][/COLOR]

[indent]Nadijah was born among her fellow Gerudo, and up until recently, they were all she knew. Her mother was a renowned warrior, her father a mere flicker of a presence within a society not meant for his kind. Come with the dusk, gone with the dawn, Nadi never asked for his name - and her mother never offered it. 

As far as Nadijah can remember, her early years were spent in normalcy. She played with others her age, practiced swordplay with wooden blades, shot dulled arrows at immobile targets and learnt to sit atop a horse without fear of falling. It never occurred to her to wonder why such things were important for children to learn, or for adults to master. At least, until she was old enough to understand what "war" meant - and that the tensions leading up to it had been brewing for a while. Nadijah did not fight in it herself, all too young to be sent to the frontlines at least among the first few, but she did experience its horrors second-hand.

Farajah had always been the xenophobic sort, and the war did nothing to make her talk of outsiders more fondly. As such, Nadijah learnt to resent and mistrust people she'd never met, and to believe that nothing good came out of associating with them. They hated the Gerudo, and the Gerudo ought to hate them in turn. Notably, her mother was also an avid supported of Ganondorf, believing that with his lead, they would reign supreme and claim more hospitable lands for their children and children's children. 

They did not. When the war came to an end a little over a decade ago, its terms were anything but favourable to the Gerudo. Seeing Ganondorf bend the knee to a king that confined the Gerudo within a valley bordering a dangerous, haunted desert, was too much for many Gerudo to bear, and their opinions on him seemed to split. Some were disappointed, furious, claiming they would've preferred to fight to the death rather than surrender, yet others claimed he was wise to save what he could of their kind, and that he had other plans to rise to power yet. Farajah, and by extension Nadijah, seemed to go back and forth between the two extremes. Angry at what happened, hopeful that it wasn't the end.

The end of the war did not mean the end of Nadijah's training. If anything, Farajah became even stricter, determined to make her a fine warrior the next time a war broke out - which she hoped, [i]believed[/i], was soon. 

But when Ganondorf finally took over, as he'd promised, the Gerudo soon learnt exactly what they meant to the man. Even with him at the throne, their life had hardly improved - on the contrary, they now had even more monsters to worry about, with no more land or food at their disposal than before. But though it was the final straw to many, and they were quick to denounce Ganondorf, only few rose against him - with no success.

Of late, Nadijah's mother fell ill. Exhaustion and hunger did her in, and it was then Nadijah's own anger and frustration reached a fever pitch. She was done just twiddling her thumbs. Her whole life she'd done nothing but trained. It was time to actually put it all to use. If no one else did anything, she'd go and meet Ganondorf herself and demand from him the aid the Gerudo deserved. They were his people! Gerudo had no one else - surely he'd understand. And if not-- she'd [i]make [/i]him understand. 

With that, Nadijah left behind her desert home and set out into the world at large. Her intention was to head straight for the castle - but she quickly learnt that it was easier said than done, and the state of the world she saw shocked her. Was this truly the kind of a world their king wanted? But [i]why[/i]? What good did it do to anyone.

Recently, she arrived to Kakariko village both to take a breather and to try a more indirect approach to the castle, navigating her way through the eastern mountain range. She did not expect to find others there.[/indent]
[COLOR=#b12e2e][B]Likes: [/B][/COLOR]

[INDENT]
↑ Horseback riding, especially when combined with archery. Challenge her if you dare!
↑ Climbing; the higher the better.
↑ Food. Any food. Just. Food.
↑ Any small, cute, or fluffy animal, whether they return the sentiment or not.
↑ Weapons, especially unique or finely crafted ones will have her frothing at the mouth.
[/INDENT]
[COLOR=#b12e2e][B]Dislikes: [/B][/COLOR]

[INDENT]
↓ Waiting - for things, people, anything at all.
↓ Cold weather; she cannot deal.
↓ Losing, and will try to talk any loss into a win, or at the very least a draw.
↓ Politics, she doesn't get 'em.
↓ Swimming, because she can't, and will sink, and that's embarrassing.
[/INDENT]
[B][COLOR=#b12e2e]Skill:[/COLOR][/B]

[INDENT]⚔ Gerudo Warrior | Fighting, fighting and-- hm, fighting? A one-trick pony as far as skills go, Nadijah excels at combat and little else - but when it comes to combat, she shines like the desert sun. She's adept at archery, both on horseback and off, and can wield two scimitars as if they were extensions of her own arms. She's extremely nimble for someone her size, displaying a fierce kind of grace when she dances with a blade or two in hand, and can pull out a hidden dagger faster than most eyes can follow. Like the rest of her tribe, she's also used to surviving in harsh weather conditions, and is thus quite hardy and difficult to wear down, both in combat and outside of it. 
[/INDENT][/COLOR][/hider]
[hider=I'Rajith][color=silver][center][color=silver][h1][color=#8990c7]I'Rajith[/color][/h1]
[img]https://i.postimg.cc/6pKG3Cj1/09b80ea9d9cab39b2ee02ece04e66401.jpg[/img]

Bladesinger Wizard[sup]「lv3」[/sup]| Noctem | True Neutral [/color][/center]

[hr][h2][color=#8990c7]Personal[/color][/h2]
[indent][b]Gender:[/b] Male
[b]Age:[/b] 16
[b]Height:[/b] 4'10''
[b]Weight:[/b] 100lbs

[b]Speed:[/b] 30 feet
[b]Size:[/b] Medium[/indent]
[hr][h2][color=#8990c7]Stats[/color][/h2]
[indent][b]Armor Class:[/b] 13 | 16 (Mage Armor) | 21 (Bladesong)
[b]Initiative:[/b] +3
[b]Hit Points:[/b] 23 [sup][3 x 1d6][/sup]

[b]Strength:[/b] 9 [sup]-1[/sup]
[b]Dexterity:[/b] 17 [sup]+3[/sup]
[b]Constitution:[/b] 16 [sup]+3[/sup]
[b]Intelligence:[/b] 20 [sup]+5[/sup]
[b]Wisdom:[/b] 9 [sup]-1[/sup]
[b]Charisma:[/b] 14 [sup]+2[/sup][/indent]
[hr][h2][color=#8990c7]Proficiencies[/color][/h2]
[indent][b]Proficiency Bonus:[/b] +2

[b]Proficient Saving Throws:[/b] Intelligence, Wisdom
[b]Proficient Skills:[/b] Arcana, Investigation, History, Performance, Stealth, Deception

[b]Proficient Weapons:[/b] Rapiers, daggers, darts, slings, quarterstafves, light crossbows
[b]Proficient Armor:[/b] Light armor
[b]Other Proficiencies:[/b] Thieves' tools, disguise kit

[b]Languages:[/b] Common, Noctish[/indent]
[hr][h2][color=#8990c7]Attacks[/color][/h2] 
[indent][b]Rapier[/b] | +5 | [i]1d8+3 Piercing[/i]
[b]Dagger[/b] | +5 | [i]1d4+3 Piercing[/i][/indent]
[hr][h2][color=#8990c7]Spellcasting[/color][/h2]
[indent][b]Spell save DC:[/b] 15
[b]Spell Attack modifier:[/b] +7

[b]Cantrips (3):[/b] [i][url=http://dnd5e.wikidot.com/spell:green-flame-blade]Green Flame Blade[/url], [url=http://dnd5e.wikidot.com/booming-blade]Booming Blade[/url], [url=http://dnd5e.wikidot.com/spell:prestidigitation]Prestidigitation[/url][/i]
[b]1st level (9):[/b] [i][url=http://dnd5e.wikidot.com/spell:magic-missile]Magic Missile[/url], [url=http://dnd5e.wikidot.com/spell:shield]Shield[/url], [url=http://dnd5e.wikidot.com/spell:absorb-elements]Absorb Elements[/url], [url=http://dnd5e.wikidot.com/spell:comprehend-languages]Comprehend Languages[/url], [url=http://dnd5e.wikidot.com/spell:disguise-self]Disguise Self[/url], [url=http://dnd5e.wikidot.com/spell:find-familiar]Find Familiar[/url], [url=http://dnd5e.wikidot.com/spell:identify]Identify[/url], [url=http://dnd5e.wikidot.com/spell:mage-armor]Mage Armor[/url], [url=http://dnd5e.wikidot.com/spell:inflict-wounds]Inflict Wounds*[/url][/i]
[b]2nd level (3):[/b] [i][url=http://dnd5e.wikidot.com/spell:mirror-image]Mirror Image[/url], [url=http://dnd5e.wikidot.com/spell:detect-thoughts]Detect Thoughts[/url], [url=http://dnd5e.wikidot.com/spell:invisibility]Invisibility*[/url][/i]

* from Feat: Shadowtouched[/indent]
[hr][h2][color=#8990c7]Features[/color][/h2]
[indent][b]The Ever Waking[/b][sup]「noctem」[/sup] Noctem do not sleep. Instead, they enter a trance nand require only 4 hours to complete a Long Rest. While in this trance they are incapacitated, blind, and deaf, but can be roused by touch. Noctem cannot be put to sleep by magical means. While in this trance they commune with others of their kind in a unique demiplane shared by all Noctem called 'The Conference of Minds'. This allows all Noctem to share in information, though the communal dialogue is ever shifting and no one topic is discussed or weighed for long.

[b]The Conference of Minds[/b][sup]「noctem」[/sup] During a Long Rest and while visiting the Conference of Minds, a Noctem may draw upon the life experiences and insights of their kin. Until the end of their next Long Rest, a Noctem may choose a Class Feature (But may not designate a Subclass) of another class that they meet the multiclass and Level requirements for and gain its benefits. Spellcasting cannot be gained in this way, and if an ability requires a resource or scales with class level, use your proficiency bonus in place of the class level. Ex; For Unarmored Movement, a level 17 Noctem would be considered a level 6 monk because of their proficiency bonus of 6. Similarly if they gained Rage instead, they would be considered a level 6 barbarian for the rage table. 

[b]Rogue (lv 2): Cunning Action [/b][sup]「conference of minds」[/sup] Starting at 2nd level, your quick thinking and agility allow you to move and act quickly. You can take a bonus action on each of your turns in combat. This action can be used only to take the Dash, Disengage, or Hide action.

[b]Superior Darkvision[/b][sup]「noctem」[/sup] 120 feet; Greyscale

[b]Abandoned by the Light[/b][sup]「noctem」[/sup] Due to a curse from a deity slighted by the (in)famous Noctem Scholar O'Sovoka, Noctem are vulnerable to Radiant Damage and may only be resurrected by a spell of 5th level or higher.

[b]Feat: Shadow Touched[/b][sup]「level 1」[/sup]Your exposure to the Shadowfell's magic has changed you, granting you the following benefits:

[indent]- Increase your Intelligence, Wisdom, or Charisma by 1, to a maximum of 20.

- You learn the invisibility spell and one 1st-level spell of your choice. The 1st-level spell must be from the illusion or necromancy school of magic. You can cast each of these spells without expending a spell slot. Once you cast either of these spells in this way, you can't cast that spell in this way again until you finish a long rest. You can also cast these spells using spell slots you have of the appropriate level. The spells' spellcasting ability is the ability increased by this feat.[/indent]
[b]Spellcasting[/b][sup]「wizard 1」[/sup] [hider=wizard spellcasting]As a student of arcane magic, you have a spellbook containing spells that show the first glimmerings of your true power.

Cantrips
At 1st level, you know three cantrips of your choice from the wizard spell list. You learn additional wizard cantrips of your choice at higher levels, as shown in the Cantrips Known column of the Wizard table.

Spellbook
At 1st level, you have a spellbook containing six 1st-level wizard spells of your choice. Your spellbook is the repository of the wizard spells you know, except your cantrips, which are fixed in your mind.

The spells that you add to your spellbook as you gain levels reflect the arcane research you conduct on your own, as well as intellectual breakthroughs you have had about the nature of the multiverse. You might find other spells during your adventures. You could discover a spell recorded on a scroll in an evil wizard's chest, for example, or in a dusty tome in an ancient library.

Copying a Spell into the Book. When you find a wizard spell of 1st level or higher, you can add it to your spellbook if it is of a spell level you can prepare and if you can spare the time to decipher and copy it.

Copying a spell into your spellbook involves reproducing the basic form of the spell, then deciphering the unique system of notation used by the wizard who wrote it. You must practice the spell until you understand the sounds or gestures required, then transcribe it into your spellbook using your own notation.

For each level of the spell, the process takes 2 hours and costs 50 gp. The cost represents material components you expend as you experiment with the spell to master it, as well as the fine inks you need to record it. Once you have spent this time and money, you can prepare the spell just like your other spells.

Replacing the Book. You can copy a spell from your own spellbook into another book-for example, if you want to make a backup copy of your spellbook. This is just like copying a new spell into your spellbook, but faster and easier, since you understand your own notation and already know how to cast the spell. You need spend only 1 hour and 10 gp for each level of the copied spell.

If you lose your spellbook, you can use the same procedure to transcribe the spells that you have prepared into a new spellbook. Filling out the remainder of your spellbook requires you to find new spells to do so, as normal. For this reason, many wizards keep backup spellbooks in a safe place.

The Book's Appearance. Your spellbook is a unique compilation of spells, with its own decorative flourishes and margin notes. It might be a plain, functional leather volume that you received as a gift from your master, a finely bound gilt-edged tome you found in an ancient library or even a loose collection of notes scrounged together after you lost your previous spellbook in a mishap.

Preparing and Casting Spells
The Wizard table shows how many spell slots you have to cast your wizard spells of 1st level and higher. To cast one of these spells, you must expend a slot of the spell's level or higher. You regain all expended spell slots when you finish a long rest.

You prepare the list of wizard spells that are available for you to cast. To do so, choose a number of wizard spells from your spellbook equal to your Intelligence modifier + your wizard level (minimum of one spell). The spells must be of a level for which you have spell slots.

For example, if you're a 3rd-level wizard, you have four 1st-level and two 2nd-level spell slots. With an Intelligence of 16, your list of prepared spells can include six spells of 1st or 2nd level, in any combination, chosen from your spellbook. If you prepare the 1st-level spell Magic Missile, you can cast it using a 1st-level or a 2nd-level slot. Casting the spell doesn't remove it from your list of prepared spells.

You can change your list of prepared spells when you finish a long rest. Preparing a new list of wizard spells requires time spent studying your spellbook and memorizing the incantations and gestures you must make to cast the spell: at least 1 minute per spell level for each spell on your list.

Spellcasting Ability
Intelligence is your spellcasting ability for your wizard spells, since you learn your spells through dedicated study and memorization. You use your Intelligence whenever a spell refers to your spellcasting ability. In addition, you use your Intelligence modifier when setting the saving throw DC for a wizard spell you cast and when making an attack roll with one.

Spell save DC = 8 + your proficiency bonus + your Intelligence modifier

Spell attack modifier = your proficiency bonus + your Intelligence modifier

Ritual Casting
You can cast a wizard spell as a ritual if that spell has the ritual tag and you have the spell in your spellbook. You don't need to have the spell prepared.

Spellcasting Focus
You can use an arcane focus as a spellcasting focus for your wizard spells.

Learning Spells of 1st Level and Higher
Each time you gain a wizard level, you can add two wizard spells of your choice to your spellbook. Each of these spells must be of a level for which you have spell slots, as shown on the Wizard table. On your adventures, you might find other spells that you can add to your spellbook.[/hider]
[b]Arcane Recovery[/b][sup]「wizard 1」[/sup] You have learned to regain some of your magical energy by studying your spellbook. Once per day when you finish a short rest, you can choose expended spell slots to recover. The spell slots can have a combined level that is equal to or less than half your wizard level (rounded up), and none of the slots can be 6th level or higher. For example, if you're a 4th-level wizard, you can recover up to two levels worth of spell slots. You can recover either a 2nd-level spell slot or two 1st-level spell slots.

[b]Training in War and Song[/b][sup]「wizard 2: bladesinger」[/sup] When you adopt this tradition at 2nd level, you gain proficiency with light armor, and you gain proficiency with one type of one-handed melee weapon of your choice. You also gain proficiency in the Performance skill if you don’t already have it.

[b]Bladesong[/b][sup]「wizard 2: bladesinger」[/sup]Starting at 2nd level, you can invoke an elven magic called the Bladesong, provided that you aren’t wearing medium or heavy armor or using a shield. It graces you with supernatural speed, agility, and focus. You can use a bonus action to start the Bladesong, which lasts for 1 minute. It ends early if you are incapacitated, if you don medium or heavy armor or a shield, or if you use two hands to make an attack with a weapon. You can also dismiss the Bladesong at any time (no action required).

While your Bladesong is active, you gain the following benefits:

[indent]- You gain a bonus to your AC equal to your Intelligence modifier (minimum of +1)

- Your walking speed increases by 10 feet.

- You have advantage on Dexterity (Acrobatics) checks.

- You gain a bonus to any Constitution saving throw you make to maintain your concentration on a spell. The bonus equals your Intelligence modifier (minimum of +1).

- You can use this feature a number of times equal to your proficiency bonus, and you regain all expended uses of it when you finish a long rest.[/indent]
[b]Cantrip Formulas (Optional)[/b][sup]「wizard 3」[/sup] At 3rd level, you have scribed a set of arcane formulas in your spellbook that you can use to formulate a cantrip in your mind. Whenever you finish a long rest and consult those formulas in your spellbook, you can replace one wizard cantrip you know with another cantrip from the wizard spell list.[/indent]
[hr][h2][color=#8990c7]Background[/color][/h2]
[indent][b]Background:[/b] Criminal 

I'Rajith did not grow up among his kin. 

For all the knowledge the young man has gathered thus far, the fate of his biological family still eludes him. Those he came to call his parents said they found him wandering the wilds alone, but he's never been one to trust information from an unreliable source. If the Conference knows - and surely, they must - they don't consider the matter important enough to discuss.

From an early age, I'Rajith was an asset to his adoptive human parents, perhaps more so than they were to him. He spoke before he could walk, and by age two he knew magical theory. At three, he taught his parents mathematics. At four, he'd begun casting spells. His childhood, quick as it was to pass, was spent supplying his parents and their small band of criminals knowledge on all manner of topics. Tidbits from the past, present and future, strategies, tactics, the ability to decode messages not meant for prying eyes. 

But though his adoptive parents sought to benefit from him, they did not treat the noctem boy poorly by any means. Quite the contrary; they provided for I'Rajith the best they could. He was their prodigy of a son, after all. The only thing they refused to grant him was freedom. I'Rajith was not satisfied with knowledge borrowed; he wanted to set out and see the world he'd only heard of in his dreamless dreams. His head was full with whispered warnings, with prophecies left unfinished, storied that lacked a beginning and an end. He wanted to craft his own tale - one only he knew before he'd choose to divulge it.

More and more, I'Rajith started to understand that knowledge was a double-edged sword. The tidbits bestowed upon him by the Conference were often incomplete, sometimes frustratingly so. Many a night he writhed in his bed, trying to solve puzzles with incorrect pieces, to connect dots that weren't there. Sometimes words eluded him; other times, there were so many he choked on them. And when his mind gave him respite, the outside world refused to; eventually other bandits caught wind of his existence, and wanted to seize his knowledge for themselves. 

In response, his adoptive parents opted to hide the boy and offer him a distraction from his own mind. Their place of choice was a small, shady theater they had familiar ties to. They hid him in plain sight, covered by masks and costumes, and prayed it was enough. For a few years, it was.

It was in the threater the boy learnt to dance. Many noctem chose to weave their knowledge into stories or songs - I'Rajith, during all his studies, had grown sick of words. He chose to express himself with movement; to marry sword, magic and body. And so dance he did, until his little side show became a main act - and plain sight was no longer a safe place to hide. 

The summons came at an opportune time indeed.

[/indent]
[hr][h2][color=#8990c7]Equipment[/color][/h2]
[indent][b]PP[/b] 0 | [b]GP[/b] 15 | [b]EP[/b] 0 | [b]SP[/b] 0 | [b]CP[/b] 0 |

⇴ Rapier
⇴ Dagger
⇴ Scholar's Pack
[indent]⇴ Backpack
⇴ Book of Lore
⇴ Ink
⇴ Ink Pen
⇴ Parchment x10
⇴ Little Bag of Sand
⇴ Small Knife
[/indent]⇴ Arcane Focus
⇴ Spellbook
⇴ Set of dark common clothes including a hood
⇴ Crowbar
⇴ Belt Pouch[/indent]
[/color][/hider]