Name: Noa Ghaun

Age: Twenty-three

Gender: Female

Sexuality: Pan

Race: Andorian

Kingdom: Primfira

Appearance: Tall, as to be expected of an Andorian Warrior, and leaning toward a porcelain color; Noa tends to keep her head held high, the one long braid she does keep trailing triumphantly behind. Toned with musculature crafted from persistent practice and an unwavering dedication to martial pursuits, her sleepy-eyes and generally 'distant cast' belie this nature; while the clothing she 'traditionally' wears shows off a fair amount of her 'hard work'.

A white hooded shawl, sleeves barely down to her elbows and the loose bottom lingering just above her navel, serves to cover her short and unkempt 'golden' hair. Often it is out of the way, revealing the strange ochre coloration of her iris. Aside from the shawl, she wears a similarly colored, long skirt -slit on the outside of both legs- which is bound around her by ornately decorated metal rings (two more of which adorn her wrists); making it something more akin to a pair of pants. While Noa is prone to removing her shoes, if she has the chance before a fight, she can maneuver within the sturdy boots fairly well. They, too, share the pristine color of her shawl.

If one were to look closely at her face, they would see that the shape of her eyes is pronouncedly round; though the half-lidded expression on her countenance in nigh perpetuity makes them look like narrow crescents. Her chin is fairly strong, along with her jawline; but her cheeks look somewhat shallow...giving her an oddly 'elfin' look, when considering her slightly pointed ears. She bears no piercings or tattoos. Only scars, which she takes pride in.

Secondmost are the scars to her braid, the only part of her hair that seems to have been planned. Within it are several rings similar to those on her wrists and legs, albeit much smaller. Gladly will Noa tell someone what her braid means, and offer forward a name for each ring.

Occupation: Spearmistress (Warrior)

Personality: Without regard for the boundaries surrounding emotion, Noa has an impressive grasp on 'distance'. A sleepy-eyed, slow-spoken but often slyly-mocking woman who has a fair amount of confidence in her ability to fight. To be true, she knows little else; though she is quick to pick up the basics of many things presented to her.

Aside from this, Noa treats her duties very seriously and holds a love for the Primfira Kingdom. She rarely speaks of politics, preferring to make conversations more 'worthwhile'. Though that is often a nebulous and all-too-convenient definition. She is meddlesome, at times, and more often than not incredibly quarrelsome.

History: Being born into the Ghaun family is one of the largest boons Noa could have received; though she has said, in her arrogant youth, that it is clearly the other way around. On rare somber days, she may even speak what she thinks to be the truth. Despite all the tension between the many brothers and sisters of her brood, all vying for the respect (and funding) of their 'Matri' and 'Patri', she was lucky to be among them.

Noa never involved herself in the convoluted plans of her more 'cunning' siblings, choosing to route their selfish desires one at a time; through ritualistic combat. She would slay none, as was her prerogative granted at the moment of becoming 'the One Victorious'. Still, it was little more than a diversion for her.

The scholarly friends of the Ghaun family had been instructed to guide Noa in her endeavors since she was a lass that could barely reach her 'Patri's' knee. So, for the years she was a 'runt' (along with several of her slightly older and slightly younger siblings), Noa spent with her nose in books; bitterness breeding as she came in bloom. It seems, too, that her body had taken issue with the countless hours spent studying the useless trifles of the 'intellectual's world'...and finally caught up to her. When she hit her growth-spurt, the orders of her tutors no longer mattered, Noa becoming indolent and scathing; casting aside pages and demanding to be taken before the Head Ghauns.

So it was. So she impressed them. Mostly by knocking out her eldest brother, who had attempted to bar her way, with a trio of punches that looked almost lazy. She wouldn't tell them, for several years, that she had been honing herself in corners and crannies without their consent; sneaking peaks of the martial masters who instructed those who would be Warriors of Primfira, carrying the name of Ghaun forward to honor the service their ancestors had given to the 'Crown and Land'.

Truly, it mattered little. Of her brood, Noa become one of the three brought under their 'Matri' and 'Patri's' wing; one of the three who were to learn their craft from perhaps two of the most deadly Warriors to have ever wed. From there, it was brutality; but brutality became Noa quite well, her 'lock' earned within a year and her first ring adorning it within two days thereafter. After, she simply demanded to be sent to the capital; finally claiming the funding she had never asked for.

Entering into the 'True Guard' (as Noa calls it), took time. Not that she had been counting years. The struggle shaped her with every hardship. Forced her to lose childish notions of glory and honor in bloodshed; though she never could quite cast the romanticism of it from her mind. Brought her current 'dreary' mood as she grew closer to defending what she could not help but love deeply. Primfira, though this newfound affection did not dull her want for 'worthy' battles.

After a year in the nest of nobles, she would receive a gift. Threadcutter, her 'Matri's' old polearm; restored for Noa's inheritance. With it came the responsibility of her name. While it had always been something important, she did not realize that simply having Ghaun tacked on would mean something serious. Fights became more common, and since she had more to fight for Noa became more ferocious; but did not discard the understanding brought on by the tutelage of her youth.

Approaching the castle was difficult enough. Asking for a job, seemingly silly. Noa fancied herself one of the best. She had spent the time free of patrolling continuing to forge herself; testing this long-developed mettle in 'Blood Pits'. By now, she had gathered her scars. By now, she was calling herself a 'Spearmistress'. It seemed to impress some, and amuse others. Regardless, she found her place close to the heart of the country that had given her 'Ghaun' and things such as 'pride' and 'resilience'.

Still, what she asked for would be placed upon her; after a time. A Warrior of the 'Crown and Land'. Noa Ghaun would fight, if need be, on behalf of certain nobles or (so she hoped) the 'Golden Family' themselves, in duels pressed upon them by the stronger and (by her measure) more reasonably qualified.

Regardless, she would spill their blood; if the order was to do so. If they completed the contract by proving themselves despicable or adequately formidable.

Weapons: Threadcutter : A strange polearm fitted with a hooked blade on one end, and a piercing point on the opposite end. While it appears a more ceremonial weapon, ornate and well-kept; several heavy rings affixed to this weapon add a considerable amount of weight. (4 rings, 10 lbs apiece; able to be removed) Stands above Noa by nearly half a foot, putting it somewhere close to 'absolutely towering'.

Skills:

Spatial Reasoning : While many would see Noa as something of an arrogant lackadaisy, the truth is not so different. Of course, she would call herself 'a natural' when it comes to keeping track of the distance between herself and a given foe; as well as maintaining a clear mental image of her surroundings. She is rather hard to pin, or corner, and is particularly wary in close quarters.

Conditioning : She calls herself 'Spearmistress' and is recognized as a Warrior of Primfira. Such does not come without discipline; both mental and physical. Noa is in excellent physical condition and keeps herself focused on what appears to be the most important task at hand. It is this that allows her to utilize the extra weight added to Threadcutter

Threshold : Pain is temporary, some would say. Others would say there is little greater than the fury of being inflicted with pain. Noa would agree with both, on a calm night. In a fight, however, she is certainly a student of the latter. While aware of her wounds, she will attempt, with great vigor, to fight through them and land a killing blow; or escape, depending on the situation. Torture is less effective against her, but not useless.

Scar(s): Lower lip (below, trails to chin, very thin)
Right shoulder (front to back, jagged, very wide and pronounced)
Midriff (across; above navel, seems clinical, very straight and fairly thin)
Tattoo(s): None

Additional Information: Projectile weapons tend to make her uncomfortable, and she has a certain distaste for those who think that battle is so impersonal.

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Personality: Mel is very much a product of his environment. He is loud and rowdy, and loves nothing more than to carouse and gamble long into the night. He loves to have a good time, and has been known to shirk responsibility in favour of getting drunk and having fun. He also has a bit of a reputation as a womanizer, although Mel himself claims it isn’t well-deserved: “It’s hard not to be seen that way when pretty girls keep throwing themselves at my feet,” he’ll say with a wink.

More recently, Mother has pushed him to be more “stately”; at her direction, he has learned how to mimic some of the traits of nobility, at least enough for folks to take pause; however, Mel hates to act this way, and will quickly revert back to his true personality as soon as he feels it is safe to do so.

History: Mel is the eldest child and only son of Luthra’s Mother, not that that meant much while he was growing up. Sure, he was afforded more luxuries than his less-well-connected friends - food at every meal, swordsmanship training and weapons tailored to his left-handedness - but the kingdom’s lack of wealth and political influence, along with Mother’s “hands-off” parenting style, didn’t allow for the kind of royal treatment a “prince” might expect.

Not that Mel cared much. He got what he needed from Mother, and he got what he wanted from the streets, using what influence he did have to his advantage. Much of his free time was spent fighting and gambling with little supervision; by the time he was a teenager, he was a regular sight in the kingdom’s taverns, playing songs and dancing, brawling and dueling with anyone willing to take him on.

He lost his left eye in one such duel at 17. Partially because of this, partially because he was getting to marriageable age, much of his freedom was taken away; instead, he was trained in how to be a “respectable gentleman”, in the hopes that he could be married into another kingdom’s nobility. Mel didn’t take kindly to this change, and snuck out at night to continue his rough and rowdy ways.

With the news of Exodus’s eligible princess and the festival being thrown for her, Mother tasked Mel to attend in order to strengthen ties with the other kingdoms. A marriage of convenience, she said, is the best outcome; but should this prove to be impossible, Mel was to do anything necessary to improve Luthra’s position and reputation. Should he fail… well, Mel knows better than to go home to Mother empty-handed.

Weapons: Mel’s preferred weapons are Fame, a rapier with an elegant silver hilt, designed to be wielded in his left hand; and Fortune, a trident dagger, designed for his right hand. He also carries a set of nondescript throwing daggers, but only uses them in emergencies… or when he really, really wants to get a cheap shot.

Skills:
- Combat: Mel is a skilled fighter. He most often dual-wields Fame and Fortune in a left-handed stance, which gives him advantage against those unused to fighting left-handed opponents; he can also hold is own in a bare-knuckle brawl.

- Music: Although he originally picked up the lute to attract the ladies, Mel has since come to love playing the instrument, and will now do it for his own enjoyment. He also likes to sing, although his voice doesn’t sound nearly as beautiful as the lute does.

Scar(s): Mel’s body is littered with little scars from the many, many duels and brawls he’s been a part of. The most obvious would be the scar across where his left eye used to be, although it is always covered by a leather eyepatch.

Additional Information:

Name: Fanon Oaktree
Age: 40
Gender: Male
Sexuality: Heterosexual
Race: Thanatos
Kingdom: Luthra
Appearance:
Occupation: Sellsword/hobo
Personality: Fanon is very calm and quiet, showing little emotion. He is bold and straight to the point, while sarcasm and humor often goes over his head. He is often annoyed and angered by the people surrounding him, but can also be polite and sincere.

History: Fanon was born the year the world burned. His mother died giving that birth, while his father was a part of a warrior clan that dispersed over the hard years. Fanon learned how to fight in various martial arts and by way of the sword from his father, until his passing from pneumonia.

Ever since he has been on his own, hunting to stay alive and finding sellsword work whenever possible. When he has no jobs lined up, he is simply homeless. He does not steal or beg, using hunting to feed himself. If he does not hunt well, he goes hungry until he tries again.

Weapons: His main weapons are his katana's, one shorter than the other. Bow and quiver made from oak and leather. He has a few throwing stars, thin hammered steel shaped with spiked ends all around.

Skills:
Fighting: Practices martial arts for the body and mind, is mainly proficient in jui jitsu and karate.
Killing: An expert with his blade, excels in close range combat.
Hunting: Not one of the best at it, but knows enough to survive. Is decent with a bow but often misses. Knows tracking and usually uses traps when the bow fails him.
Stealth/agility: Can climb/parkour over structures quite easily, and when on a job tends to stick to the shadows. Can be very quiet and still, for days if required.

Scar(s): Slight cut on his left eyebrow, can only be seen if really looking for it. Various cuts along his knuckles and fingers from sparring with his father, as well as one on his left shin.

Tattoo(s): None

Additional Information: Has a beautiful singing/humming voice.

Name: Dalious Durendail (Dal)
Age: 33
Gender: Male
Sexuality: Heterosexual
Race: Thanatos
Kingdom: Luthra



Occupation: Pirate/thief/merc

Personality: Has a sarcastic and humorous personality, as he doesn't take life too seriously as he should. Is very talkative and loud and often doesn't have an agenda or a plan. His confidence and ego are often showcased wherever he goes. Never lets the little things get to him, he just doesn't care enough.

History: Born an orphan, he was lucky enough to be cared for by a group of bandits and thieves. At an early age, he was used to sneak into small places and steal. When he was a teenager he joined a band of pirates and helped in terrorizing innocent lives. His crew were all killed over the coming years, whether by storms or naval battles and he has since taken up refuge in Luthra.

Now he keeps things relatively quiet and to himself, though in secret he seeks to conquer and create a legacy. He is friends with the prince of Luthra, Melchior, as they have similar tastes and tend to get wasted drunk together often. He is loyal only to his friends, but however gold talks and the pirate is easily persuaded.


Weapons: Wooden club. Boarding axe. Hunting knife.

Skills: Trained in boxing and wrestling, Dalious has been fighting as long as he can remember. He is decent with a sharp weapon, however he prefers to bash something to mush.

Is most experienced in slight of hand and thieving, knowing a few key magic tricks. Also plays a lot of poker and pirate dice, and usually wins.

Scar(s): A few whip lashes on his back.
Tattoo(s): Has tribal tattoos all over his back and chest, few around arms and legs. They are of various sea related things, such as a compass, map, ship layout, sharks, etc.
Additional Information: Is slightly insane, and has a lot of luck. Also has a welsh accent.

Name: Ultfic
Age: 25
Gender: Male
Sexuality: Straight
Race: Levonian
Kingdom: Earthica



Occupation: Captain of the Kingsguard
Personality: Ultfic is a hard headed man with a quick temper if you push the right buttons. While he is prideful of his work and his skills he remains humble believing that an egotistical mind corrupts the good nature in man. He deathly loyal to his people and his loved ones with fearlessness in battle that makes him waver under no obstacle. Almost uncharacteristically Ultfic is a cheerful and a quick witted man with a sarcastic kind of humor when around his men or the princess. Around the king and queen however he tries his best to keep himself in check though some of that slips out at times.


History: Ultfic was the first born to a small family with two sisters that would follow quickly after. Like most born into Earthcia Ultfic wasn’t born into much wealth or power, he had no promises of becoming much in life. Ultfic took one look at his family farm and new this was not he life he wanted for himself and his future family should he ever have one. Ultfic become enthralled in stories of great battles and of warriors who would stand down whole army’s. From that day Ultfic began training tirelessly everyday after his farm work to be a soldier worth his weight in gold. His parents seeing his dedication knew there was no changing their sons mind so instead they helped in any way they could.

As he grew older and his skills became more refined he quickly gained the attention of the King and Queen who saw the potential of having such a young and loyal warrior with his skills at their side. Greatly honored by the praise Ultfic happily accepted their invitation to join the King's guard especially the captain at the time who came to be like a second father to him. The captain saw something in young Ultfic and personally supervised his training believing he would be his successor.

One night while Ultfic and the captain were patrolling the forest around the town as was common for the two, a arrow struck the captain in the shoulder. Looking to where the arrow had come from he saw a group of 3 raiders come from around trees that they had been hiding behind. Quickly drawing his sword he dropped into a defensive stance behind his shield defending his captain hoping the other guards would see the battle that was about to ensue. The enemy's hoped to use their numbers to their advantage lunging at Ultfic. Ultfic struggled to block as many strikes as he could getting cut across his arms. Getting fed up with these intruders in his land he went on the offence quickly cutting down the two who had been fighting as they left themselves open in their cockiness. Turning around Ultfic saw the sight that would haunt him for the rest of his life, standing there with a sword breaking through his back was his captain and master. Letting out a roar of pure agony Ultfic rushed the man standing over the dieing body of his master lashing out in uncontrolled strikes. Clinging of swords filled the forest as the two fought ferociously not giving an inch. Finally after some time Ultfic was able to land a killing blow cutting his sword straight through his opponents head. Falling over his master he began to weep as he could see the life leaving his body. In his dying breath the captain handed Ultfic his long sword telling him “It is now your burden to carry.”





Weapons: Long sword

- Beautifully crafted, it is a work of art that few could recreate. Rare is it to find a weapon in such condition. This is Ultfics sword that was given to him when he was deemed ready to be a grand warrior fit of such a weapon. He makes sure to keep his weapon in pristine condition as it is was a gift from his trainer.
Round shield- to accompany his long sword Ultfic often carries around a round shield similar to that of Viking shields of old that bears the nations symbol on its front.
Skills:
Sword Master- Ultfic while being trained, grew fond of swords which soon became his preferred weapon on the battlefield. Working tirelessly Ultfic became a feared swordsmen amongst the other warriors and even to some outside his home.
Battle minded- most believe it to be a natural gift that Ultfic is able to read a battlefield or a dual in seconds and find a strategy or a flaw in his opponents fighting abilities. While some is simple God given talent Ultfic has spent countless hours studying battle statics of former captains and generals so as to be the service he can to the people of Earthica.
Scar(s): Small line on his right cheek but is covered by his beard. Varriouse cuts on his arms from countless battles and duels.
Tattoo(s):

Found on his right shoulder
Additional Information: has a Irish/ Scottish accent

Personality: Angeline is not a kind woman. She is cold and calculating, willing to say and do just about anything to get what she wants. Rarely has she shown much emotion beyond disdain and anger. Even rarer has anyone seen her smile.

She is also distrustful of people, largely because of how she came to power and how she has been able to hold onto it. She understands that her position, while giving her access to luxuries that most in her kingdom don’t have, is a dangerous one. She is always prepared for the worst.

History: Born less than a year after the fire, Angeline was born among the first settlers of the lands that would become Luthra. Those settlers successfully built an anarchic haven, welcoming in outcasts, wanderers and criminals alike. However, as time went on, it became clear that because of scarce resources (among other issues) they could not survive as a “kingdom” without international recognition and diplomacy.

For this reason, it was decided that two of them, a man and a woman, would be chosen to “lead” Luthra. Angeline quickly became the top female choice: in addition to her proven skills, she quickly and efficiently eliminated anyone who stood in her way. At 17, three months before the birth of her first child, Angeline was named Luthra’s first Mother.

Since then, Angeline has worked to improve Luthra’s international reputation, with little success. What she has succeeded in doing is secure better lives for herself and her family - with very little change in the quality of life for her “subjects”, although from what she’s seen and heard, they’re absolutely fine with that. “I won’t fix what isn’t broken.”

She hopes that the upcoming festival will provide an opportunity to continue her work, and strengthen diplomatic ties with the other kingdoms.

Weapons: Angeline always carries with her a silver sickle; she holds it in hand at all times, only tying it to her belt when absolutely necessary. She also has a belt pouch filled with various poison vials, kept just as closely as her sickle.

Skills:
- Persuasion / Subterfuge: After spending more than twenty years leading a “leaderless” people, Angeline has become very good at getting what she wants, whether that be through skillful use of words… or otherwise.

- Toxicology: Angeline is very knowledgeable about various poisons and venoms, and their uses. She can identify many by sight and smell.

- Stealth-based combat: Although she isn’t the strongest fighter, Angeline is quick and quiet, and is most successful at taking down targets when they don’t know where she is… or if she’s even there.

Scar(s):

Additional Information: Angeline is obsessed with the idea of eternal youth. After hearing rumours that those in Exodus bathe in blood for this reason, she has taken up the practice herself. She gets the blood herself. Only the incredibly brave and stupid dare to ask where it comes from.

Name: Avidan, The Father

Age: 50

Gender: Male

Sexuality: Heterosexual

Race: Thanatos

Kingdom: Luthra



Occupation: Father of Luthra

Personality: Actions speak louder then words, and Avidan has carried this motto throughout his entire life. Words do little to impress him or supplant him. He his a hardened man, intimidating and cruel. He cares little for others outside of the people that call Luthra home. His voice carries a grimness, a sense of dark foreboding.

History: Avidan was born into a time of chaos and uncertainty. By the age of ten, the virus was claiming victims without thought or care, but only through sheer will did he cling on to what little life offered. When the dust settled and the world ready to be claimed once more, he was one of the first to fight and kill for what he wanted. The world was a lawless place, anger and fear were rampant while people starved. Kill or be killed.

However, he was of Thanatos, death was but an old friend and one that beckoned to be joined, but Avidan wanted more in life and it was this strong will that once again kept him alive. By twenty, Avidan had made a name for himself in the land known as Luthra. Though it pained him to say it, Luthra was his home, his birthplace, and he owed it everything. The harsh environment forged him into a fierce warrior, and an even crueler man. By the time the whispers of diplomacy had entered his lands, Avidan was growing restless and the talk of picking rulers only nauseated him. Luthra did not need a King or a Queen, whatever this Mother or Father title meant, he did not like it. They were not like the other kingdoms, why should they become like them?

As such were his thoughts and feelings, he left Luthra to find them a new home, one where they could live freely and without care. Many did not wish him to leave, many were thankful he was, and others only wanted him dead. And surely wherever his journey were to take him, he would not survive. So Avidan left Luthra behind, and wandered what was left of the world for years.

On one brisk day, a now older Avidan returned to Luthra and challenged the current Father to a duel. Caring little about the rules or proper procedures, he murdered him without hesitation, while talk of his return had only just begun. He had witnessed many things on his travels, many terrible truths and now, he had taken what he had wanted by becoming the next Father. Not for him, but for his people.

Weapons: A large iron greatsword, named Cutter.

Skills:

Survival - Being born into a world that is cruel, forces one to let their basic instincts out, and Avidan is no different now then when he was a youth. He knows how to live in the world, whether through nature or people, he does whatever it takes to live.

Warrior - He knows how to fight, how to kill a man. He is no stranger to weapons and their deadly uses.

Idealist - Avidan only wants what is best for his people, and will do anything it takes to secure a future where they are powerful. His words can be both honeyed or brash, but they are not to be ignored.

Scar(s): He has riddled with scars, large and small, every part of his body has a deformity from the desert storms he was foolish enough to get caught in.

Tattoo(s): The large symbol of Luthra has been tattooed on his back.

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Name: Thyrri
Age: 23
Gender: female
Race: Freyja
Kingdom: Exodus
Occupation: Healer, member of Exodus royalty

Personality:
Thyrri is a kind person, deeply compassionate to other people, regardless of their status or race. She despises arrogance and showing off wealth – qualities she believes are strongly represented by the rest of the Exodus royalty. This is why she never found any friends in the palace and prefers to spend time with “normal” people, as well as wear simple clothes and jewellery. Altough she might seem naive at first sight, it is far from the truth. The time spent travelling around the kingdom has taught her that altough there is good in most people, some have it hidden under so many layers of bad it is not worth looking for it. She has a very good (and slightly sarcastic) sense of humor, but she doesn't like mean pranks.

Being a healer and people-lover, the custom of bathing in blood or drinking it offends her deeply. After a few failed attempts to convince people that there is absolutely no logic behind this barbaric tradition she gave up on this effort, but it still bothers her.

History:
Thyrri is a daughter of the king’s brother Darnak. Her mother died during a complicated childbirth, no healer in the palace was able to save her. Darnak loved her greatly and never fully recovered from losing her, often being sad and distant, lost in memories. His relationship to Thyrri was complicated – he subconsciously blamed her for causing her mother’s death, but it was hard not to love a baby who resembled his wife more and more every day.

She received the normal “princess” education just like her younger cousin, princess Aamaya, but she desired more than to be a nice decoration to some man’s household. Her father got her a teacher, who taught her to read and write, and she spent most of her time studying the scrolls in the palace library, especially those focused around healing.

Darnak died when she was 16, leading a group of soldiers against bandits from Luthra, who threatened the trade routes between Exodus and Primfira. This left Thyrri all alone in the royal palace. Now she had no one to defend her from queen’s attempts to marry her off to strengthen some political or trade alliance. She refused every single offer from the rich and powerful noblemen, until finally they stopped coming. Needless to say, the queen was not happy about it, but she is hiding it well.

Ever since then, Thyrri prefers to be outside of the palace, in the tight city alleys or farms and smaller settlements around Exodus, meeting ordinary people. She uses her knowledge to heal and help wherever she can.

Weapons: A small dagger she keeps hidden beneath her clothes.
Skills: Thyrri is smart and well-read, proficient in healing and treating injuries. She is also very agile and is in a good physical condition.

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Name: Valeri Andora

Age: 21

Gender: Female

Sexuality: Bisexual

Race: Andorian

Kingdom: Primfira

Appearance: The princess is unnaturally pale, rivaling that of a blizzard on a cold winter's day. Her hair, like a cloud adrift in the heavens, soft and white as ever can be on a warm spring day. Her lips are light pink, but she wears a black lipstick to entice all those that gaze upon her, a striking feature on a pale face. While her eyes are of warm honey, playful and longing but full of intelligence.

Valeri is quite tall, just standing over 6'2". Her body is slightly skinny, with little muscle or a toned physique. Her pampered up bringing is defined in her soft skin. She has a little curvature along her waist and hips. Overall, her appearance is very inviting and exotic in her own way.

Occupation: Princess of Primfira

Personality: Valeri has a very vivacious spirit and a charming personality. Her rich voice is very soothing to listen too, and her eyes are very inviting. She likes the more pleasurable things in life, and doesn't care with who either, as she craves attention. She also enjoys the more lavish things in life, and the indulgence of parties. Valeri can be both playful and respectable when the situation calls for it. She is a good listener, and for those she deems friends, loyal. But beneath her appearance, Valeri is a very cunning girl, who craves power like a moth towards a lit candle. She can be cold at a moments notice, and is not above using others for her own gain, even friends and family though rarely. She loves secrets as much as she loves sex, as both can be used to hold sway over others. She has no love for Exodus, even if everyone else thinks the opposite.

History: Growing up, Valeri was a very melodramatic girl, always whining until she had her way. Her servants did everything and more, simply to please her and the young princess took this to heart. When she could no longer act this way, her family deeming it inappropriate, her mannerisms changed. Valeri quickly learned that she could get her way by simply being nice, respectful, and charming. If she acted mature, she found herself being treated maturely. She was smart for her age, even by Andorian standards but she kept this intelligence secret for her own reasons. She cared for little else besides being a Princess, and only cares for the beauty of nature from a distance.

As a teenager, and young adult, she developed more and more into a lovable young princess. She attended her lessons, filled herself with knowledge from books and other literature and grew in her cunning. Soon she got what she wanted because of her authority, which pleased her greatly, but also left a vacuum in which she would try to fill with more and more power. She wanted nothing more then to one day sit upon the throne and rule, for it would make her happy, but something deep down told her it would not be enough, and it pushed her further. Soon she began to take secrets that she might use upon others, for who know would suspect the bubbly princess Valeri? She slept with many people, mostly woman, even her own maids from time to time. Practicing her skills and learning all she could about people and their woes.

Her family life was much the same throughout this, she was a dutiful princess that loves her kingdom, and her family. They might even suspect what she is, or what she has done, but it doesn't bother her in the slightest. The news of the Exodus festival, that this princess was open to suitors was infuriating. Exodus had no right to wed their daughter to any other kingdom but Primfira, the only other kingdom that mattered. They would pay for this offense.

Weapons: None but her body.

Skills:

Intelligence - Valeri is very smart, and because of this, knowledgeable in many things, especially kingdom politics.

Seductress - Valeri has a way of getting what she wants, especially through seducing others. Her inviting persona is sometimes all it takes, but she does like a challenge. She does it for fun too.

Cunning - The princess has mastered her appearance of a vivacious young girl, but beneath it all she is a talented fox. She uses people for her own gain and crafts plots that have no ends. She loves playing an air headed fool.

Scar(s): Her body is flawless.

Tattoo(s): No tattoos.

Additional Information: She wears a silver chain with the insignia of Primfira.

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Name: Aziza
Age: 26
Gender: female
Race: Andorian
Kingdom: Primfira
Occupation: Spy, assassin

Appearance:
Aziza is a woman who excels in creating various disguises. Her “normal” look is a typical Andorian – long straight snow-white hair and pale complexion. She is of medium height and rather skinny, but also very flexible, fast in both thinking and moving and surprisingly strong given her stature. With various hair dyes, make-up and sets of clothes, she can transform herself to blend into nearly any environment.



Personality:
Aziza is tough and cold-blooded. You might say that she hates people, but that is not the case, she just despises the weak. Had the Darwin’s theory been preserved and known in these times, it would probably be her life’s philosophy. Those who cannot fight for their spot in the sun deserve to lose it. She views life as a constant struggle for survival. As such, she doesn’t have much space for happiness or enjoyment in her life, even sex is mostly just a way to get closer to her targets. The only thing that brings her at least some satisfaction is killing people, maybe a bit of torture here and there, all for the greater glory of the kingdom.

Being raised and trained in the palace, she is unfailingly loyal to the Primfira royalty, grateful for the opportunity to become a predator instead of a prey.

History:
No one knows the true origins of Aziza, simply because it is impossible to find out. When the palace guards discovered a little pale girl, not older than three, shivering at the door, they chased her away. But she came back a few hours later and then the next day. When the former queen heard the news about a child with such persistence, she decided to take the girl in.

Aziza was raised in the palace, receiving the best training in combat with and without weapons, physical skills like climbing and sneaking around unnoticed in various environments and also general education especially focused on other kingdoms – political climate, important figures and groups, local habits and important places. She was given much more than any homeless child in Primfira could ever hope for, but never an ounce of love was spent her way. And she never expected it from anyone.

Even during her training she was sent to simple missions around Primfira, some of them were just staged tests, some of them real problems to solve, and she rarely failed.

Weapons:
Small double-arrow crossbow – her weapon of choice whenever it comes to real business

Bandolier with throwing knives strapped around her chest

Long dagger

Wire garrote

Skills:
Infiltration – given some time to prepare, Aziza can blend in anywhere and go mostly unnoticed

Long-distance combat – she excels in using her crossbow and throwing knives

Stealth – sneaking around and lurking for a prey is in her nature, she is trained to move quietly both in out in the wild and in the cities

She avoids melee combat whenever she can, preferring to kill from safe distance.

Name: Klase Gale
Age: 31
Gender: Male
Sexuality: Straight
Race: Levonian
Kingdom: Earthica
Appearance: Pale, with vibrant red hair that he binds back into a somewhat wild looking ‘wolf tail’ and still reaches halfway down his back. His beard is neatly trimmed and full with a few stray white hairs adding a little bit of maturity to an otherwise fairly young face. He stands a bit over 6 feet and is well built with more muscle than your average farmer would ever be expected to develop. He typically prefers a simple tunic, frequently of undyed fabric, and leather trousers. For more dangerous work he has a set of simple leather armor, padded thickly with linen. He also carries an unadorned belt knife with a leather wrapped hilt for numerous and varied daily tasks. His eyes stand out more than the average being a bright and frigid glacial blue. His gaze is often disconcerting as it is piercing and seems somehow to convey greater age than it should.
Occupation: Peasant Farmer… also “Prince”, Warrior & Entrepreneur in hiding… sort of.

Personality: Pragmatic, patient, dutiful and self-reliant he is an anomaly among the warrior men of Earthica for his skill with a bow and preference for a defensive fighting style focused on devastating counter-attacks. Thoughtful and deliberate in planning, he is devoted to improving his homeland’s fortunes without risking their people in unnecessary fighting.

History: Born in secret, the illegitimate son of the previous prince of Earthica was raised as a foundling by a trusted king’s guard and his wet nurse. His mother, a highborn lady whose precise rank has been kept so secret that her own son does not know it, has not seen him since he learned to walk. He has no memories of her but was raised to honor both of his parents who took honorable responsibility for their youthful indiscretion and saw to both his raising and education even though he was never able to have a relationship with either of them due to the damage that news of his birth could have caused the Kingdom.

With such mystery and so many unanswered questions surrounding his parentage as well as the specter of his royal father casting the heavy shadow of a distant royal duty over his life he was driven to do everything he could do to further the development of his country. He trained intensely, worked intensely, studied diligently, and he learned everything he could. So focused was he on developing his skills and the land nearby that he has not even thought of finding a wife. Even the increasingly less subtle hints and advice from his ‘parents’ have failed to do more than briefly distract him from his work.

Now, the time has come. With the festival underway, he and his father approach the city with a few other men from the village nearest their stead. A few of them sport injuries from bandits but all seem enthused at the prospect of making great profits in the city. Klase, however, can’t keep from being a little distracted as he leads the pack horses. He has been told that he must either look for a bride or make enough money to move out and live on his own. The way his father said it… it sounded like a command from the King.

Festival or not. He had work and wooing to do.

Weapons: Longsword, Short Sword, Composite Longbow
Skills: Klase is adept with the longbow and is known for his accuracy as much as for the power of his bow. However, he is only effective from a stationary position or at a slow walk. Firing at higher speeds is something he’s never been able to do, in part due to the strength and form required to fire his bow. Only those with very high upper body strength and very solid form can handle it.

In close combat, he relies on a combination of a longsword and short sword to hold off even powerful foes and deliver powerful counterattacks. Unlike many who fight defensively, he doesn’t wait for openings in his opponent’s movements. He uses his strength and the pattern of his attacks to create the openings he needs. He is also competent with most simple hand weapons and can improvise with anything that comes to hand should he lose a weapon.
Scar(s): Numerous and subtle, mostly old and small, from decades of hard work and training. He has a couple small scars that are more noticeable in his upper arms and back from bandit arrows and one thin line along his left cheek from his first fight against a man with a spear.
Tattoo(s): None
Additional Information: For all his developed skills, Klase has been deliberately avoiding credit for his warrior skills in order to avoid being looked at too closely by those who may wish to harm his father. As such, he has no reputation to speak of aside from being a hard worker… and a bit of a hard nut for the village ladies to crack. Several have tried to catch his eye without success over the years… to the persistent amusement of the others.