Name: Hadrick Class: Great Knight Role: Mentor/Combatant Max Support: A Rank Strength: Str/Def Weakness: Res/Mag Inventory/Spells:
Silver Axe
Steel Lance
Backstory: A grizzled veteran and a famed commander of the Lothian Knights. Hadrick was born as a resident of Reynes, and became a mercenary in his youth. He wound up fighting for the Lothian Empire staving off bandits and escort missions, and eventually became a favorite among nobility. It was here he met his wife, and just as he would dedicate himself to her, he would also dedicate himself to the nation she called home. He became a feared and respected general with time, and opportunity, fighting many battles. Now retired, he advises the young prince Alnard in all matters to do with military. His wife has already passed, and now his goal is to fulfill his duty to the very end of his life.
Gerrian
Sword
Bow
Flying
Name: Gerrian Class: Assassin Role: Mentor/Combatant Max Support: S Rank Strength: Spd/Lck/Dex/Str Weakness: Res/Def Inventory/Spells:
Killing Edge
Steel Bow
Backstory: An assassin under the employ of Kalvas, sent to watch over proceedings with Alnard and report back. He has been ordered to help Alnard with all matters required to keep him alive, or to ensure his success. Naturally he is trained in all the clandestine arts. Gerrian himself is one of Kalvas’ assassins, to which he calls the Ravens, a personal division of assassins that he has raised himself, much like Elliot’s Order of the Blaze. Gerrian is one of Kalvas’ most trusted and is often entrusted with important tasks.
Arcturus
Dark Magic
Black Magic
White Magic
Name: Arcturus Class: Bishop Role: Mentor/Combatant Max Support: S Rank Strength: Mag Weakness: Spd Inventory/Spells:
Magic Staff
Black Magic
White Magic
Backstory: The bishop of the camp who sees to holy ceremony for those who are religious within the army. A peculiar man, though nice, if it isn’t sermons, then it’s lies. He seems unwilling to talk of his past, always making something up, but if his ability to use even dark magic is anything to go by, it’s likely not something he’s proud of.
Personality: Basing from first impression, one would usually point out the dancer's harsh tone as she speaks and the overconfidence of her ability to dance gracefully. Sumire can also be cautious and doubtful when meeting a stranger but despite her rough exterior, while she may not be honest in her way of speech, looks after her fellow comrades and tends to their wounds as she spouts an insult or two. While she can easily come off as arrogant when praising her own dancing prowess, the dancer simply wishes to rally up the spirits of those who can appreciate her art.
Backstory: Born to a house that had been raising generations of traditional dancers, Sumire grew up living and breathing the ways of the traditional art. Among her other two sisters, the youngest Sumire was deemed the most naturally talented in the field. One might think the pressure would get to the young girl but instead, she purely enjoyed the rhythmic performance and the praises of those who gazed upon her graceful, delicate movements. With motivation on her side, the maiden absorbed the different arts of dance passed down in her house from generation to generation, some even uncommon to the people of the kingdom. Few of them were taught as a means of self defense including sword dance and fan dance.
Once Sumire became of age, as the representative of her current generation as the most talented dancer, she was sent forth from her kingdom to lands far away. It was a tradition from her house to spread the art of their dance to people of other lands. It had been a long over the sea journey, but Sumire had finally reached her first destination.
[Combat]
Class: Dancer
Affinity: Celestial
Inventory: >Vulnerary >Iron Sword
Abilities: >Dance >Blooming Violet: Raises the Speed stat of the ally shown the dance to. >Shade
Personality: For a man trained by Assassins and Mecenery all his life. Mike is actually a very laid back guy who speaks his mind and often can joke around. He is also a flirt who flirts with beautiful woman, he can also be consider a heartbreaker as he has slept with and broken the hearts of numerous woman in his life.
On the battlefield though, is a completely different story, Mike goes from a laid back guys to a calm and collective warrior, who is always looking for an opening to bring his foes down, he will always protect the weakest member of his party and will always try to keep those who are wounded safe.
Backstory: Born to a Mercenary and a priest of a faraway land, Mike and his family moved to Land of Alba, his parents were both able to find jobs that payed well. Eventually though, Mike's father old crew went out looking for him as they said he abandoned them and killed both his mother and father, and burning their house to the ground.
Mike was only a year old when his parents were killed and he survived the blaze, some reports indicate that a brave wolf pack found him and took his to a safe place where a young mercenary girl who could not have children of her own, found him and took him in as her own, where he was raised among the other mercenary's, by the time he was 10 though, himself and his adopted mother fled the Mecenery after their leader was killed in battle and the new leader demanded that Children will be used how the merc wanted to make them stronger and more powerful. The last thing they heard were the horrible sounds of children being tortured or other things.
Mike and his adopted mother them reached what they though was a abandoned monastery to try and think about their next move before they were knocked out and taken before a assassin Guild known as Midnight Howls who were one of the most respected and feared Guild in all of Alba, the leader wanted to kill them for trespassing but Mike's mother was able to convince him to take them both on as apprentice.
It was another ten years before Mike had completed his training and was no longer an apprentice, but he was not yet an assassin ether, his master told him to head out into the world to do some soul searching to figure out what he wanted to be. His adopted mother also reviled the truth about his real parents and her engagement to his master. Which Mike was happy to back after she told him the truth, with that, he left the monastery to journey out into the world alone.
[Combat]
Class: Hunter
Affinity: Cosmic
Inventory: One Iron Bow, Vulnerability, His own Unique Sword Shadow Strike (Which is currently only as powerful as Iron but gets stronger as time goes on eventually becoming his strongest weapon)
Ablities: Invisible Hunter (When on any terrain apart from plain, Mike gets an increased chance at critical hitting targets)
Spell/Weapon arts:
Wrath Strike
Stats (All stats start at E rank. You may choose 3 stats to start at D rank, and 2 to start at C rank)
Appearance: A thin young woman with a small bust and short stature. Her small frame doesn't exactly inspire confidence in her abilities as a soldier, but she can draw a bow with ease and has been working on building up muscle. As of yet, her skin is unblemished by battle.
Personality: Bel had always had a quiet hunger for knowledge. Her curiosity carried her from a spoiled childhood as an imperial royal, to a slightly more subdued adolescence. She is well educated and bright, and can quickly tell when she is out of her element... despite this, she puts on a confident air around others to appear as if she knows what she's talking about. She takes herself very seriously, and cares a lot about being taken seriously by others. She is a straight forward person and although she has only recently entered adulthood, she prefers to be treated maturely - as she tries to treat others. Sometimes her past as an 'entitled noble' will show through as stubbornness with a penchant to argue, but when she knows she's in the wrong she will make up for it in time.
Backstory: A noble and an only child, once part of the royal families of the Lothian Empire. She was raised as a pampered girl, easily able to obtain anything she wanted. Her family kept several tutors and scholars in their employ - and Belisendé frequently visited with them, as knowledge and academic pursuits were something she actually had to work hard at, she enjoyed the challenge of it. Although her talents lay more in historical and political studies, she was also taught horsemanship and bowmanship as noble recreation activities. As Belisendé grew older, she came to realize that what she had thought were anecdotes of the past were actually recent struggles within the Empire, and her family had instructed her tutors to gloss over things, seeking to keep Belisendé sheltered and ignorant to the Empire’s failings for as long as possible. As the years continued to pass and the Empire’s inner conflicts continued to grow, Belisendé focused harder on her martial training - intending to volunteer to help the Lothian military attempt to bring peace to the Empire. Her plan didn’t go as she expected; many officers in the military were familiar with her family, and upon seeing her would turn her away and spread the word for others to do the same. Frustrated, Belisendé was close to resigning herself to never being able to help the Empire attain peace - until the Lyonesse Kingdom declared war. Belisendé used to confusion to escape the watchful eye of her protectors, stealing away on the back of her favored horse Sunbeam, her determination renewed... ...well that's nice and all, but while traveling the edges of the Empire, trying to help any strangers she came across, she realized that her goal may be easier said than done. She was, putting it nicely, a weakling. She could draw a bow and shoot with accuracy, and she could ride a horse - but doing both at once proved difficult. She was well learned in politics and strategy, but putting them into effect during the heat of battle seemed daunting. As her determination was waning yet again, she overheard mention of potential soldiers gathering at Garleton and decided to make that her next destination. She cut her hair and donned commoner's clothes, and addressed herself only as "Bel" to those she met - hoping to start fresh and become useful in the path to peace within the Empire.
Class: Squire Affinity: Cosmic
Inventory: Vulnerary Iron Bow
Abilities: *True Companion: when riding chosen mount, DEX increase by +2* (chosen mount: Sunbeam the horse)
Weapon Arts: Curved Shot
Stats: END: E STR: E MAG: D DEX: C SPD: D DEF: E RES: D LCK: C
Personality: Generally taciturn and shy, he prefers to simply let unnecessary conversations pass by him like the breeze. Patient and intense, he takes the words of others very seriously and holds hypocrites and liars in utter contempt. Ironically, while he takes words very seriously from others, he prefers to express his own feelings with actions and has achieved some small recognition for his lack of fear and hesitation.
Backstory: Born the illegitimate son of a lesser Empire noble and a high class courtesan in the capital, he had a fairly comfortable childhood and even received some minor magical instruction. But, a rivalry between courtesans resulted in his mother's face being disfigured. She suffered a meteoric fall from grace and her son fell with her. His limited magical ability was barely enough to frighten a neighborhood bully but it allowed him to provide some little protection for his mother from the numerous small cruelties of their harsh new life.
But, this only lasted for a few short years. When he was 12, bandits raided the slum where Trace lived with his mother. He was out looking for work and only returned in time to see their shack collapse, one of many that were engulfed in flames. Soldiers had killed the bandits and were fighting the fire but their best efforts were barely enough to keep the flames from spreading to more wealthy parts of the city. The survivors were forcibly evacuated and the victims were buried in mass graves, too badly burned to be identified.
Trace never found his mother's body.
Trace felt that he had been running from the truth. He had failed to grasp the kind of power he would have needed to save his mother. But, instead of wallowing in guilt, he focused his pain into a nearly fanatical desire for improvement. Rejecting the obtuse, abstract, expensive and time consuming study required for magic, he devoted himself to the path of the spear. It was a readily available weapon, cheap to acquire, and those who used it were in regular demand in many places. So, he sought out a small mercenary company that had recently suffered losses and used both his little savings and his determination to secure himself a position there.
Since then, his training was relentless. Others practiced striking wooden poles to improve accuracy. Trace practiced striking twigs, then leaves. But, he found that precise strikes were far more difficult when it came time for real combat.
He was 21. The job was simple, escort a low rank noble kid to an academy. The Pierced Shield Mercenary Company had never been large so the whole company came on most missions. This was no exception. They met with the client, took up formations and set out in the morning at a measured pace. The formation was simple since the vast majority of the members of Pierced Shield wielded swords or bows. When evening came, however, the young master in the carriage decided that he wanted to get to the academy early so that he could make a better impression on his teachers. He ordered the group to continue on through the night.
They were ambushed.
The battle was chaotic and the enemy were no mere bandits. They were trained assassins and soldiers, though their insignia were hidden. The majority of the attack's force struck at the front and the flank of the formation Several were archers while most wielded spears or swords. The archers began the attack with flaming arrows and the carriage was aflame in moments. The young master scrambled out the door only to be swiftly speared by the lances of the assassins who had charged in headlong.
Trace was positioned toward the rear and saw this clearly. The assassins seemed to be well prepared for much of what the Pierced Shield could bring to bear and the best of the Pierced Shield warriors were only able to bring down a few of the enemy before falling. The leader too, fell under attacks from two lance warriors. As the battle continued, it became obvious that the mercenaries were going to lose. The assassins divided their forces then, focusing their swordsmen and remaining archers on finishing off the veteran mercenaries who remained in the core of the formation. The rookies at the back were targeted by the remaining assassins who used lances.
All the rookies, except for Trace, wielded swords. Trace knew that they had no chance. He told them to run before taking a stand between the fleeing rookie recruits and the approaching lance assassins. There were six of them, cocky and bold with blood dulling the shine of their lances. Trace stayed on the move. Maintaining smooth footwork and keeping his balance as he moved let them engage him, but only one at a time. For the first time in his life, he fought with all his skill and he discovered something.
He was really, really good.
It was only a few moments before those six lances lay on the ground beside their fallen wielders. In that moment of quiet that followed, Trace looked around and found that none of the other enemies were looking his way. They were all focused on bringing down the last of the Pierced Shield veterans. Trace knew that he was good, very good, but there were more than two dozen swords and four bows over there. He didn't have a chance and neither did the veterans of the company.
He turned and fled, following the other rookies into the night.
Only a small handful of rookies from the Pierced Shield managed to escape that ambush and the group was dissolved with each going their own way, mostly to other mercenary companies that liked having recruits who had already had some training and experience but wouldn't command a high wage. Trace, however, knew that he might have attracted dangerous attention with his performance in that battle. He avoided mercenary companies and became a solo hired lance instead.
Two years later, after many poorly paid odd jobs and occasional caravan guard contracts, Trace heard rumors of war. It was time to see if he could do something more impressive than surviving. He traveled to where the young prince was gathering troops and signed up.
[Combat] Class: Recruit Affinity: Umbral Inventory: Iron Lance Vulnerary
Abilities: Spear Insight - +1 to STR, DEX, and SPD vs Spear wielders
Spell/Weapon Arts: [Start] Heartstopper - A decisive jab that prevents counter-attack, but at lowered damage.
Stats: END: E STR: D MAG: D DEX: C SPD: C DEF: D RES: E LCK: E
Personality: It would be easy to just call Rin a textbook antisocial misanthrope upon meeting him. To some degree, this statement is completely correct, Rin shies away from most human contact, preferring to spend his time alone in his tent maintaining his weaponry or reading whatever tome catches his fancy at the time. People who start conversations with him will quickly run into a brick wall as he doesn't respond whatsoever, most assume he isn't even paying attention as he continues whatever activity he was before. However as shown through his interactions with Sumire, the young man is not completely without a heart. He defends his employer with a loyalty bordering on fanaticism, a loyalty that no amount of coin could possibly inspire. Closer inspection reveals a sort of big sister and little brother relationship, with Rin quietly listening as Sumire rants at him over his lack of self care or Rin applauding Sumire's beautiful dance. Small things, but small things that prove he is human. The Flame that is his heart does in fact burn. And while it may burn softly, it burns regardless.
Backstory: If you apply as a mercenary to work for the Rebels of Fortune, you will get hired. The recruitment process is an absolute sham, meant to get as many bodies in through the door as possible. Yet the turnover rate within the company is absolutely massive, with the members who have stayed longer than a year numbering in less than two dozen. So why is it that so many people are hired every year, yet the company barely ever grows? There is a certain tradition that is deeply held within the Rebels of Fortune mercenary company. The first job you're given is always deemed to be an absolutely doomed job. There is no way you're ever supposed to fulfill the terms of your contract, whether it be a bodyguard job where the client is a fool who blindly wanders into danger or routing a massive bandit group on their way to a small village. Nobody ever completes their first job with no problem, you are doomed to failure no matter what. But your first job is not about passing, it's about how you clean up the mess left afterwards that the Rebels of Fortune judge you on. Almost everyone fails with flying colors, either running from the problem or simply dying in the process of trying to fix their mistakes.
What made Rin such an anomaly in the Rebels of Fortune then, is that he completed his contract with minimal issues. It was a simple one on paper, rout the bandits that plagued the town of Craydon. In reality the bandits had plagued the area for years, being so deeply entrenched within the area that even Lothian military couldn't wipe them all out before they went to ground, vanishing off the radar for a few months before reappearing. So when Rin returned with an absolutely glowing commendation from the Craydon mayor, higher ups were naturally suspicious. Did he threaten the old man into lying for him? But further investigation proved he had in fact wiped the bandits out, just not in an orthodox fashion. The camp that the bandits had set had been burnt to a crisp, Rin had set up a barrier of fire around them using oil and the very forest they hid in to cook them alive while he picked off anyone who tried to run. Some got away of course, but by the end the group was so crippled that Lothian military could be called in for a sweep of the area to put the threat to rest for good.
Yet what was even more unnerving was how Rin didn't even react when his senior told him he was meant to fail. There was no visible anger at being tricked into taking a fool' errand, no pride in his success against all odds, not even any confusion as to why he would be assigned an impossible mission. He simply asked when his next contract would be assigned to him. Firing such an asset would be heresy of the highest order, yet nobody really wanted to work with the 'sociopath' so he was sent on a long term assignment. Protect the Dancer Sumire as she journeyed through the Lothian Empire, whatever goals she has are now your goals. It was strange, but his employer could swear that something in his eyes changed once he saw who he would be protecting. It was so brief, it might have just been a trick of the light. But for just a moment, Rin almost looked excited.
[Combat]
Class: Recruit
Affinity: Umbral
Inventory: >Vulnerary >Iron Lance
Abilities: > Cold Flame's Reprieve: Knowing just where to hit to make an aggravated wound, any enemy struck by Rin's weapon attacks is distracted by the pain and has their Defense lowered for one turn.
"Sorry lass, but I'm livin' life on my own terms!"
Profile
Name: Einar Gender: Male Age: 22
Personality: You would be hard pressed to find someone more self-assured and even more prideful than the most rich nobles and skillful knights beyond the fringes of the empire than this wandering Mercenary. Einar wears his confidence on his sleeve and makes sure to display it in full force with his haughty, boastful nature that is less befitting of his position than anything else. Adding onto this, he's blunt when he wants to be and quite courteous when he find it to either be beneficial or if he wants to get into the skirt of a lady. All in all, he can just be a straight up asshole at times.
This doesn't mean his completely cruel or daft, as Einar is a man who life the way he wishes. He'll boast about what he can do the best, sure, but he isn't the type to try and one-up someone unless its a contest. If anything, he'll show more of a natural curiosity towards any sort of subject, whether it be the fine arts, magic, or politics just to name a few examples. Einar has a passion for learning about new things almost all the time, finding that to be a fulfilling life. To follow that curiosity is his tendency to mull over and analyze anything he learns or observes as well.
Most of all, due to his lifestyle, he is also extremely greedy and can have a bit of a habit of hoarding useless knickknacks at times that he states he'll try to sell for a pretty penny. To add insult to injury, for everything else he analyzes, he is poor in sense when it comes to managing his own gold. More often than not, he'll tend to spend too much gold at times, sometimes leaving him impoverished and unable to afford a room at the inn or even a bowl of gruel.
Backstory: Einar, strangely enough, is an amalgamation of the different nations embodying the continent, whether it be a constant desire to learn and collect information like those from Dinas Afaraon, a fighting style similar to those of the knights in Reynes, and even having the physical build of a Themysciran but the face of a Lothian. However, all these traits and features were unified under the reality that Einar himself doesn't have a home to return to. The closest thing he can call a home are the roads he traverses and the inns he sleeps in.
Even the circumstances revolving around his birth are a peculiar anomaly, as a band of mercenary's found the wee babe at their camp in the morning, swaddled in the midst of their campsite. As far as they knew, no sane traveler would of traveled along the forested path they had carved for themselves in secret through the Lothian Empire, much less follow them up the mountains. Furthermore, the closest town was days away and the few lookouts patrolling the encampment at night noted that they saw no one enter the site.
It was quite strange, bizarre even for these turns of events, even going so far as to baffle them all for days on end about this whole situation. However, the one thing they absolutely didn't consider was leaving the baby for dead; they were professionals, but they even had standards when it came to human life. However, very few considered keeping the child around, opting to find the next town and not only look for a job there, but to ensure this kid found a proper family. Ironically enough, this group of mercenaries, known as the Ravencrest Company, would come to be his family for the next fifteen years.
The Ravencrest Company is a traveling group of mercenary's who lack any sort of permanent establishment and in truth have much more in common with nomadic groups that traverse Alba as opposed to the much more secure and renown establishments. While they aren't a large group by any means, they do have a little bit of clout not only due to their charismatic leader but their efficient pragmatism when it comes to their jobs. Moreover, once they've completed their jobs, they vanish, making them feel more like a distant memory.
Despite their plans for the boy, Einar seemed to always be enroute to become a mercenary, whether it be from those who thought that they could train another capable blade to some who had the desire to raise a child yet did not want to stop working in their trade. They were two days away from a village before one of the older members of the group, Agnar, a former knight from Reynes, who was in his twilight years and acted as a capable mentor to the other members of the group and seldom performed on most missions, making him a perfect candidate to raise the child. Whether it was out of pity for the child, nostalgia or guilt due to his own family and past transgressions, the man was set on raising him and promptly gave the lad the name Einar.
Agnar started small, determining what would be best for the boy through observing what he liked, before giving up on that endeavor due to the interest he displayed. Instead, he opted to train Einar with a weapon that he was not only the best at, but held a significant meaning to him during his younger years - the sword. The training started out small, between playing and swinging the sword around, to learning maneuvers, to feeling the weight of the weapon. On paper, it appeared that he would make a fine fit among the rest of them, but there was a difference between training and the real deal.
On one of these days, most of the mercenaries had departed from the camp to resolve an issue involving some bandits; from what they learned about the job, these bandits had been plaguing this village for quite some time and offered a sizeable reward for taking them out. What the group didn't expect was that a raiding party had discovered the Ravencrest's camp the other night and retreated to explain the situation to their boss.
While initially caught off guard from the skirmish, the small group had managed to think on their feet and rebound, utilizing every little thing around them to their advantage ranging from a few traps they were preparing to catch for some game to smothering some of the assailants with a tent and flames. However, Einar could only do so much at the time, namely just throwing pots and pans at them as the closest thing he had to ranged weaponry. Sadly, it wasn't enough, as the one who had picked him as a target found him to be easy pickings.
Einar was swift, but the bandit was swifter and most of the others had been busy fighting swathes of others, so the boy was off on his own. When he had been disarmed through a simple swatting of his blade away from him, he panicked for a second as he tried to escape, the enemies weapon poised to split his head in two. What neither had expected was that during this panic, the boy blindly held his hands out and cringed, hoping nothing would happen.
This wouldn't exactly deter the bandit, but during this time when he was shaking, he had managed to blast the man back with a powerful gust of wind, knocking them off balance. While he would remain confused as to what happened, he utilized this respite to retrieve his weapon, only to end up running into another bandit who saw him as easy prey. While he wondered about what he did back there, he attempted emulating that action when pointing his arm at the ground, much to the bandits glee when he thought the kid had no idea what he was doing.
Of course, what he was planning was to shoot up some dust into their eyes, blinding them. It worked, giving Einar and opening as the man tried to hack violently at the boy, completely missing the mark. Exploiting the opening, he sliced open the mans neck, ending his life. He had no time to feel frightened, proud, or any sort of emotion about killing the man, as the same one who had assaulted him earlier had began their offensive once more.
Hoping to emulate what he did once more, both were surprised to see a sphere of fire erupt from his finger tips, singing the soles of the bandits foot and burning a bit of the camp. While the flame was left alight, this gave the boy an idea as he used that distraction and made a bit of distance back to the cooking materials and such.
Grabbing a canister of oil, he pivoted to see that same bandit and a few more coming onto him once again and threw it in their general direction. Whether it be out of reaction or annoyance, one of them swiped and broke the canister, causing them to be splashed in oil. Testing his new abilities, he held out his hand once again, only for a bolt of lightning to shoot out, electrocuting at least two of them, while the other two were caught by surprise when their companions were lit aflame, with one of the two running into one of them and getting caught up in it as well.
The battle continued for a bit until the enemy had realized this was futile; numerous amounts of them had been lost and these had been no casualties from the Ravencrest's side, aside from a couple of them sustaining some injuries. They began to retreat, heading back to their base as the mercenaries chased them off, their own camp being a flaming, bloody mess.
While they were busy cleaning up and figuring out how to allocate some of their remaining resources, Agnar approached the boy and commended the boy on his first outing, despite how dazed he appeared. Outside of the few praises he was given, he was somewhat deaf to them right now as he breathed heavily, trying to make sense of everything that happened, before Agnar caught his attention by mentioning the magic he used in battle, stating that he didn't expect the boy to have any sort of proficiency with it.
Once the other mercenaries returned, stating their job had be plenty easy due to the bandits routing as soon as they showed back up at their camp, Agnar approached their second-in-command, a mage who was more known for utilizing tactics as opposed to slinging spells. This prompted a full on examination when they had the free time to do so, before it was discovered that he had a very high aptitude for magic, to the point where they considered him a born natural. Despite it all, Einar had no discipline over the magic at the time nor did his father have any knowledge of how to wield the arcane, request that he help him in training his adoptive son.
The mage, while agreeing, never really had the time to assist Agnar in training Einar; while he was gifted at magic, he lacked focus and control at the time, something he would later learn on his own during his time with the Ravencrest's, as well as his own journey across Alba. He continued to train with the blade and bonded with his father, but as they both grew older, Agnar began noticing a few things about Einar.
It started after after his first battle; after consoling the boy, he watched as he began practicing and swing his sword at some of their dead bodies, the blade not even coming into contact. While Agnar did want to stop, he discerned based on the look in his eyes and the way that he was handling the bodies wasn't due to desecration, but rather a strange, yet morbid curiosity in him. Learning himself where to try and strike, imagining a similar foe and cutting them down, but this of course extended beyond battles.
At times, he would have at least five, maybe eight books piled up in his tent, either borrowed from someone in camp or a library at one of the towns or kingdoms. The information ranged between the type of political situation of Lothian to a fictional book about how someone was racing to cure his loved one through procuring ambrosia from the sun. This extended beyond mere books as he toyed around and practiced with his magic, though using it for more mundane matters like drying off clothes or being the camps embodiment of flint and steel when it came to cooking. It even extended to other miscellaneous skills like fixing up his own clothes, learning how to set up traps, or even some sleight of hand.
This curiosity about the world continued as he went on, eventually working alongside the others on actual missions, that he would sometimes come back a little roughed up or injured from. This really didn't deter him from his more personal pursuits, especially once he learned the origins of his own background - being that of an enigma - from listening to one of the mercenaries reminisce on the past.
This prompted many things, ranging from a barrage of questions levied at his old man; while he did care for Agnar, it finally came to light for him when he realized that the man wasn't his real father. Einar had mixed feelings at the time, from bits of betrayal to feeling that he loved the man regardless of not being connected by blood. What did began to fester and bloom though, was his own desire to learn about his past.
There had to be a reason for his original parents to abandon him like that, right?
That curiosity began to grow over the years as Einar left the encampments they set up for longer periods of time, venturing out to every village he could to look or find some form of information about himself. Eventually, it had reached its full conclusion with his announcement that he was leaving the Ravencrest Company at the age of fifteen. After discussing the details of his departure and debating against some of their concerns, he packed up his bags, gave his father and many of his friends a tearful goodbye, before departing on his own journey.
This lead him on many different adventures over the years as he continued to seek his past, ranging from escorting a caravan of traders from Reynes to Zion to assisting in some research in Dinas Afaraon (acting mostly as a guinea pig) to lacking any sort of gold and being stuck on the isles of Themyscira for an extended period of time performing either menial labor or handling some pirates; at least the women were beautiful, so that made it somewhat worth it.
Of course, he also did have some encounters with the Ravencrest Company, meeting up with friends and his father to have a chat over the jobs they had accepted over the years over a round of beer. However, during his last encounter when in Lothian territory, he announced what his next venture would be - that he would be looking to join Alnard small crusade.
Whether it be out of some curiosity, a desire to seek his past, or just because he felt like it, only Einar knew as he departed the next day to the once bustling city of Garleton.
Combat Statistics
Current Class: Page Usable Spells/Weapons: Sword, Axe, Lance, Bow, Gauntlet
Artemesia's character combines a number of traits that would typically be seen as diametrically opposed. She's usually quiet and can be reclusive, lazy, and withdrawn, but never surly or defensive, and in moments where her passions shine through she can become a completely different person, enthusiastic and talkative to a fault. Though empathetic and considerate, Artemisia tends to also be spiteful, vengeful, and short-tempered if wronged. Her passions include knowledge -trivia in particular-, stories, and drama, and it's no surprise that those plus her good memory and quick wit incline her towards large words, formal speech, occasional babbling, theatrical behavior, and interesting people. Eloquence plus her notable wits allows for some persuasiveness when she wants, but she's surprisingly naive about normal things. She's a believer in karmic justice, including paying violence against violence, but more than that she's a believer in Gwynism, the rare but ardent faith in the ancient King of Night's Blaze that idolizes him as a deity. As such, she is rather Machiavellian. In short, while she might seem like a passive, silent shut-in, she often exhibits intense bouts of enthusiasm or violence, as the situation calls.
Backstory:
The strongest fires leaves lasting embers.
In a remote valley between the misty mountains of the Lothian Empire's northern border lies Charna Bog, a perennially overcast mire of mud, water, plantlife, and cruelty. Few venture to such a inhospitable, nigh-malicious land, but deep within that dark, damp shroud a certain bowl of embers has blazed for centuries. Known to myth and rumor as the Charnail Coven, the society buried deep within the swamp claims to be descended from Gwyn, the infamous tyrant known to history as the King of Night's Blaze. Though insular and isolated, its appointed Wayfarers often travel abroad, gathering information, developments, magical knowledge and artifacts from the outside world before returning. Nevertheless, the Coven is a community steeped in decadence, its cult feverishly devout to their legendary ancestor, revered as a god of cleansing flame. It was into the Charnail Coven's domain, elevated above the swamp on trees and stilts and sustained by mad fervor, that Artemisia was born.
From her early years, in the manner of all children whose gifts in magic were identified by the village elders, she was trained in sorcery. Like the others, her parents raised her as a wholehearted follower of Gwyn, adored savior of flame. Yet, she received something the others didn't thanks to her father, and outsider who 'converted' to Gwynism following his own salvation at the hands of the woman who'd go on to become Artemisia's mother, who had plied her talent for White Magic to save his life. A wyvern rider of a nearby kingdom, Solomon could visit the village and his daughter regularly, bringing goods to trade to endear himself to the locals while keeping up the guise of being a devoted Gwynist. He helped reel her back from sinking too deep into the cult, and once in a while managed to sneak her out of the swamp to visit civilization. Her love for knowledge and drama bloomed during this time, and she longed to learn more of the outside world. As a result, she grew more worldly than her peers, so it came naturally that when she came of age Artemisia would be given the duty as one of the Coven's Wayfarers. Big things were brewing—for some time now, the prophecies of the elders foretold the existence of eight extraordinary individuals in the world, descendants of the Eight Heroes, who are necessary catalysts for the ceremony that would supposedly revive Gwyn from his age-long slumber.
Artemisia joined the seven other Wayfarers on their hunt for the children of prophecy, taking the chance to leave the Charna Bog behind. Even as she's begun truly exploring the outside world, however, she struggles with the duty she's been given and her misgivings about both the Coven and Gwynism itself. Yet, the mark of the swamp has never left her, burned into her mind to deep to be ignored. Her primary goal in her travels is to identify her mark and bring him or her back to the swamp (she only knows that her target has pink eyes and some kind of illness), but she doesn't mind dawdling a little to experience what the world has to offer on the way. After all, Gwyn's slept so long already; surely he can wait just a little longer.
Class: Occultist Affinity: Umbral Inventory:
Vulnerary, Book of Secrets (a journal containing interesting stuff she reads or witnesses and writes about to not forget)
Abilities: Personal: Eye for an Eye – if struck, Artemisia's next attack increases in potency.
Spells/Weapon Arts:
Flux, Miasma
Stats
END: E STR: E MAG: C DEX: E SPD: D DEF: E RES: D LCK: C
With a pale complexion that starkly contrasts her angular features and dark hair, Branna’s careless manner and haphazardly cut bangs speak for her in terms of personality, as does the poorly-timed smile that hangs on her lips. Given her tall, lean stature and her scuffs on skin and cloth, she easily passes for older than she is. Her closet is an untidy array of mismatched pieces she throws on in pieces of two or three, dark and simple enough to have been handmade if the situation so required it. Since she hails from the frigid cold, she doesn’t react to temperatures above chilly, and whether or not she minds the heat is uncertain. What is certain, though, is that she’s been through a few ordeals, and she has a loose eyepatch and a scratchy voice to show for it. Her tattered voicebox lends her a throaty laugh that’s hardly pleasant on the ears, and it gives her giggles and musings an uncanny edge that she enjoys watching others’ reactions to.
Background:
Branna was a wanderer of the streets before she was anything else. Though the capital of Dinas Afaraon was a self-sufficient fortress, the nation’s lesser cities and slums still held their fair share of strife, and Branna remembers nothing but cold and hunger from her early days. Working odd jobs didn’t yield good wages, but they were livable, and someone had to work them, so through mines and tanneries she went, her life a mix of smoke and dust.
It was sometime between her time in the hazy black that Branna came into possession of a wyvern egg, and despite the grievous injuries that came with procuring and raising the hatchling, Branna emerged with a beast that was able to keep her belly full and her coin pouch jingling. Given that wyverns were difficult to retrain if they’d imprinted and hard to kill for the average person, Branna was able to begin life as a travelling mercenary, using her wyvern’s wings to help her stay with the flow of coin.
Personality:
Branna smiles and laughs, enjoys both the rabble and the quiet, though often for the wrong reasons. With a penchant for needling others and revelling in their discomfort, she’s a tad more manipulative and moralless than most. Whether or not that bothers others, though, doesn’t matter much to her. For her, the most important thing is keeping her coin purse full enough to sustain her and her wyvern until the next job, and anything beyond that is a bonus.
Wyvern Flier
END: D STR: C MAG: E DEX: D SPD: C DEF: E RES: E LCK: D
Abilities:
Voracity || Units targeted by Branna have their defense lowered by one stage when Mors feeds on them. If she kills an enemy, all nearby enemies suffer a defense and attack debuff of one stage each. Neither the attacking debuff nor the AoE debuff stack with themselves, but they can stack with each other. Only Branna can utilize these debuffs.
Fortune || Branna obtains 50% more EXP. This only applies for EXP earned in battles, and is calculated after the battle is over.
Personality: Always smiling, day or night, good or bad. William is commonly taken light heartedly due to his seemingly clumsy nature and light hearted way of taking things, but he is always smiling and sometimes it seems there's something else beyond the smile.
Backstory: "I ran away from my academy" If asked about his origin this is the most one will get out of the smiling mage, some have pierced some information together over time from remarks William has made, some notes have been written down on his past;
Is a noble borne from the empire Was at his 'academy' most his life Holds a grudge towards the empire? Ran away just before his graduation
As its been laid out so far no one knows much of before he chose to take up arms, maybe he doesn't know himself, but William does remind himself deep down why he chose the path he did.
For William this path is the only way to save the Empire from ruin, for being born into failing nobility he got to lay witness to the foul play of the aristocrats that hide behind the throne at a very young age.
His life felt like a blur for many years, from being sold by his family to take part in a military scheme to develop strong loyal soldiers, loyal to who though would probably be a good question. After being sold off though, the boy was found to have an aptitude in magic, making him perfect to enroll in a strict magic academy that was quite bent on pushing and overworking kids to truly develop their magical abilities and force them into submission in the process.
Years William spent at the academy, studying, fighting, dreaming. Dreaming of the day he would escape, for the boy who was nearly a man at the time had never given in no matter the punishment. Planning for it took years, but it was accomplished, alone for William could not trust others.
With that William spent a few years on the run until he somehow ended back on the side of the empire, luckily due to the shadowy dealings behind his past if he was recognized its not like it could be acted on in public
Class: Pupil Affinity: elemental Inventory:
Abilities:
Unbreakable wills- +2 to allies def while adjacent to them
Spells/Weapon Arts: fire, wind, thunder
Stats (All stats start at E rank. You may choose 3 stats to start at D rank, and 2 to start at C rank) END: C STR: D MAG: C DEX: D SPD: D DEF: E RES: E LCK: E
Name:Thom Chaff Age:22 Gender:Male Apperance: Albeit a bit taller, and much broader. Personality:A grim, albeit slightly traumatized soldier, with a heavy distaste of the nobility. Who would do anything to protect those he holds dear, even if it cost him his life. While he would protect those he holds dear, no one really knows if he actually holds you dear, or not as he doesn't say so, nor speak much at all, instead opting to grunt, hmm, or use basic gestures to get his point across though has a tendency to be vocal on the battlefield with his war cries, and whooping shouts as he enters to the fray in his heavy armor.
Backstory:Born in Alba, and the youngest of 8. Thom had always stood out among many, even his own siblings having been a large boy, larger than average at birth, larger than the other boys, and girls in childhood. This combined with his strength made him a pretty innate choice for him to do the heavy jobs around his village. Chopping wood, carrying goods off of, and onto carts, and earned him a profession as the village blacksmiths apprentice into his early teenage years. To Thom now, all that hard work was what he considered his golden years, his era of peace before getting hit with the face with the hammer that was reality.
The nobility had been getting discontented with their emperor, with discontent comes ploys for power, comes battle, comes backstabbing. Thom unfortunately at fifteen years old was caught up in this, his nobles local recruitment force saw the mountain of a boy, and conscripted him into his nobles fighting force. There the boy was forced to fight other nobles on the bitter field of battle. Either luck, or some sort of divine providence saved his life on those battlefields, but as time went on he hardened to war, he feared a part of him had begun to enjoy it, but it was a part of him he stuffed deep down. He survived battle after battle he was sent into becoming quite well known amongst his lords men, so he had the boy transferred to a different part of his army, a division of unmounted knights.
It was here where Thom found his true desire. Seeing the other knights putting their lives on the line in their heavy armor, seeing them protect the bulk of the army, and each other, actually giving a damn about a life. Thom promised himself that as long as there was war, he'd aspire to be like them to not fight for his own life but to protect those who might have a brighter future, to be the strong bulwark his people needed him to be. After the invasion of the kingdom however his noble had been one of the first to fall, and swear fealty to the invading king. This left his surviving troops in somewhat of a predicament they could either swear fealty to their new king, desert the army, or flee back to the capital to enlist with the Imperial army.
It was here the once tight knit regiment of armored soldiers became torn. They all agreed to desert, but to where was the question. Some wished to return to the capital to join the war, others wished to make their own life to raid, and pillage, to become bandits in their own homeland. Fighting both their former empire, and the kingdom. Thom wished he could say they all saw reason, and parted peacefully but nobody did. As they set camp, the ones who wished to become bandits turned on their brothers. Attacking without provocation, any noble dignified airs that had once been replaced with contempt, greed, and disdain. The fighting was bloody, and Thom was told by his captain to flee, and so he did. Only taking the clothes on his back with him as he fled into the wilderness.
Eventually wilderness gave way to civilization, and Thom was shown kindness as a stranger let him ride in his cart all the way to the capital. It was here he signed on with the imperial army, another unknown soldier in the sea of fresh faces that would be his new brothers, and sisters in arms.
[Combat] Class:Guard Affinity:Cosmic Inventory: Iron axe, vulenary Abilities: Iron Ox - When standing still, and defending Thom regains 5 hp, and a +1 to DEF.
Spells/Weapon Arts: Smash
Stats (All stats start at E rank. You may choose 3 stats to start at D rank, and 2 to start at C rank) END:D STR:C MAG:E DEX:E SPD:E DEF:C RES:D LCK:D
"Who you were isn't what I want to know, who you are now is much more interesting"
Name: Kyran Cynmaer
Age: 20
Gender: Male
Personality:
At first glance one would likely doubt that someone like Kyran was actually a highborn of the Kingdom of Reynes, seeing as his disdain for formality and somewhat blunt nature shatter any image of poise the young man might otherwise exude. A free spirit through and through he is an incredibly curious soul with a nigh-insatiable case of wanderlust. The sort to go wherever and do whatever his whims decide in the heat of the moment, though his untamed nature is tempered by a good deal of wisdom, more than one would think the boy to be possessed of. Behind the blunt, freewheeling exterior however is a genuinely kind person who cares greatly for the problems and concerns of those around him, willing to listen and lend his aid to any who ask for it. He tends to not judge people based simply on their words and positions, but rather their deeds and how they act themselves are the factors that truly impact Kyran's opinions of a person more than anything else. One of few forms of order that the young noble does seem to subscribe to is that of the ideals of justice and morality, his moral compass is very strongly embedded into how he treats others. Kyran is highly competitive and will scarcely turn down a challenge when offered, though this ambition to better himself can make him seem somewhat arrogant or cocky to others. In truth though he simply is always looking for chances to prove himself as his confidence is... somewhat lacking. Once Kyran focuses upon a goal he bacomes nearly unstoppable in terms of his persistence, willing to suffer failures countless in order to achieve his goals.
Backstory:
Kyran was born in the city of Brittany as the third of three sons to the noble house of Cynmaer, a neither particularly high nor low ranking noble family in the Kingdom of Reynes with their major influence lying in the commercial branches of the city. Growing up Kyran spent most of his time locked away inside and being practically dragged through lessons alongside his elder brothers regarding a variey of subjects like the basics of ettiquette, politics and business as his parents attempted to groom one of their sons to become an heir to the family name. They would have no such luck with Kyran, for his real interests laid in the more physical arts like swordplay, the creation of arms and armor, and military strategy.
Gradually, he began to spend more time among the commoners of Brittany than his own family. There was a certain allure he found that laid in how the common folk lived. Having things to call your own was much more satisfying when you had actually worked for it yourself and your reward was borne of your own toiling, as opposed to having everything you'd ever wanted handed to you. The young lordling began to become a known face to many of the artisans and tradespeople of the city, routinely asking them to show him the basics of their arts. Some of them even accepted, hoping to curry favor with the Cynmaer family by teaching the child. Unfortunately, Kyran made for a sub optimal student at best and an outright failure at worst when it came to trade-based work.
He hated the fact that he was failing all these people, yet still he wanted to do something real rather than consign himself to coasting throughout life simply because he was highborn. So Kyran resolved that he'd join the ranks of the Knights of Reynes once he came of age. It would be no easy feat, something that he'd need to constantly train to do, but he was determined. He began practicing with a sword every chance he got, and though he ended many days exhausted, Kyran knew that he'd see the payoff in due time. Soon enough the day came, and where once there was a useless lordling who couldn't do anything for himself, there instead now stood a squire of the Knights of Reynes. Eventually he learned to ride a war-trained horse, and formed quite the bond with the one given to him, a beauty of a mare he named Lei. The next few years were a bit of a blur, between simple guard duty to cleaning out bandit encampments with the other knights, Kyran served and for once felt a sense of accomplishment from what work he was doing. It wasn't long before he ended up in the small castle town of Garleton as part of a defensive retinue sent to the Empire, it was there that the banner and cause of a certain imperial prince caught the young squire's eye....
Combat Stats, Abilities and Proficiencies
Class: Squire
Affinity: Celestial
Inventory:
Iron Sword [3/3]
Vulnerary [3/3]
N/A
Enduring Resolve Kyran gains +2 to both his DEF and RES if he is struck more than once in a turn, this only applies from the second attack onwards.
N/A
N/A
N/A
N/A
N/A
N/A
Spells, Incantations, and Weapon Arts
Black Magic
N/A
N/A
White Magic
N/A
N/A
Dark Magic
N/A
N/A
Sword
Decisive Strike - A strike that deals more damage the weaker the enemy.
Wrath Strike - A powerful strike at decreased accuracy.
After many years under the guidance of Maribel, Wes can tend to pick up her personality of sounding matter of fact with things and can come across as being emotionless, but in actuality, is trying to be down to earth. But because of his limited interactions with people, he has a bit of a tendency of missing social cues which doesn't help in this case. Also he tries to be quite chivalrous tries to be as helpful as he can be in any situation. But there are times that he can be a bit hard on himself. These feelings eventually lead to feeling guilty and makes him want to do more things to feel as if it will make up for it. And then there is a lurking rage which is a feeling that he fears the most as it reminds him of the beast within him.
Backstory:
Wesley childhood was as the second born of the Gusto noble family in Suddene. Both parents were native Suddenese, his father was born from nobility while his mother was born as a commoner. Like most Suddenese, his father highly prized and sought to strengthen his bloodline, so with news of a powerful magic user woman that worked as a mercenary, he was quick to the opportunity to propose and marry here into his family. His sister, Waverly, was first born and as she grew, was quick to show her mother powerful magical bloodline. But once Wesley was born and arrived at the age that Waverly displayed the bloodline, his magical prowess were dismal in comparison. His mother from her own experience, knew adrenaline inducing situations can heighten the trait, this was already shown to be the same with Waverly, but became more intensive for Wesley. Although harsh, he tried to endure these torturous training as hope that one day he would meet his parents expectations. But it would eventually come to a point that both his parents abused him enough that there was an eventual break point. But the only thing that Wesley can remember that day was Waverly's scream, an axe in front of him, and the lifeless severed bodies of their parents.
After that event, his memory of each day became blurred and only bits of them can be remembered. Near the end of this, he would find himself on a ship heading to the Kingdom of Reynes with the a woman. Upon fully regaining his senses, the woman introduced herself as his aunt, Maribel, his mother's sister. It was during this time on the ship that she would slowly explain his parents death, that being he was indeed the who killed them. Guilt would overcome Wesley as before he would try to deny what he saw, but just hearing the fact of the matter that he himself is to blame crushed him. Fallen to his knees and staring down to his trembling hands, Maribel wrapped her hands around his. She said that although he experienced such a traumatizing childhood with his parents, she hopes she can show that his hands can be more than just violence. Upon arriving on the shores of the Kingdom of Reynes, Maribel began her teachings with Wesley.
Many years would pass and Wes saw Maribel as an amazing spiritual woman. Firstly, she taught to practice control his lurking rage through mediated breaths exercises, especially after occasions of unsavory folks trying to hassle or attack them. Then she told him of the close relationship with nature that every living in this world. Nature provides us of many helpful resources and in turn, we eventually give back to nature in various ways, although it may be at varying amounts. And lastly, her final lessen was the use of white magic by focusing and harnessing the flow of energy around ones self, that energy can then take or give energy depending on how the user state of mind.
Eventually into his young adulthood, Maribel believed Wes was ready, deciding to tell him that now would be the best time for him to explore the world. For most of their years together, they usually lived within the forest near the settlement of Galehaut and tried to keep a simple life. So with the murmurs of war escalating, Maribel truly believed that now would be the perfect time to venture off into the world of Alba with her teachings guiding him.
Class: Pilgrim Affinity: Astral
Inventory:
Iron Gauntlet
Vulnerary (3/3)
Abilities:
Personal: Flight or Fight: When at not full health, get +1 SPD. When critical health, get additional +1 SPD and +2 STR.
Spells/Weapon Arts:
Heal
Nosferatu
Shine
Stats: END: D STR: D MAG: D DEX: C SPD: C DEF: E RES: E LCK: E
