Róisín Morrígan Ó Goídel

19

Cailín

Róisín is short and slight of build, her most striking feature being the conflagration of red hair that hangs down to her waist. She has dark blue eyes, a plain, freckled face, and is almost always covered in dirt or greenery. Traditional tattoos wrap around her right leg, stretching up the length of her back: dots, lines, animal designs, all with deep cultural significance to her. Róisín wears as little of her uniform as she can get away with; she is typically barefoot with her trousers rolled up to her knees, and her doublet slung over her shoulders when she deigns to wear it.

To most, Róisín is a solemn, taciturn figure, reserved yet stalwart. This is largely the face that Róisín chooses to show strangers, as it masks her intense compassion, as well as her fiery temper. Ever her parents' daughter, she is amazingly willful, practically bull-headed, and passionate about her values and beliefs. However, she is both pragmatic and intelligent, and understands that there is a time and place for brute force, as well as for softer approaches. Like her grandmother from whom she learned her oldest and most potent magic, Róisín is unimpressed with grandeur, and never at a loss for a trick.

Róisín descends from an ancient line of mages and kings hailing from a land known as Fenn. A land of green fields, blue skies, wooded mountains, clear lakes, and singing rivers. Fenn was conquered in the long-forgotten days before Magisters’ Republic of Cresvald. At the time, Fenn was ruled peacefully by three royal lineages of druid-kings, but their fertile lands were coveted by an ancient sorcerer lord known to history as Fomori, who ruled a neighboring territory called Eochu. When the Fennish kings came under attack by Fomori's magic and forces, they attempted to unite under a single banner and defend their home, but by the time they had elected one among their number as High King, it was already too late, as their armies had been swept away and their loyal mages killed or turned against them.

A long era of suffering followed for the Fennish people. Fomori, an immortal mage-king, raped their land for resources for hundreds of years, and indentured the Fennishmen to slavery and servitude in his wars against the other mage-kings of the era. Later, when the Magisters convened and formed the Republic of Cresvald, Fomori was one among their number, and Eochu (and its conquered holdings) became one of the Republic's heartland prefectures. While the formation of the Republic did away with much of the cruelty of the old days, the Fennish still could not practice many of their traditional magical rights, as they had been outlawed as necromancy. For these myriad reasons, Fennish people departed their homeland in great numbers over many years to wander the other prefectures and countries. For this reason, Fennishmen have the reputation across Cresvald as itinerant healers, tinkers, cooks, brewers, musicians, and (among less welcoming peoples) thieves.

Róisín was born in the boggy lands south of Cliath, the dilapidated capital of Fenn. Both of her parents were descendants of Fenn's murdered kings and druids, and were held in high esteem by traditional Fennishmen as leaders and protectors of their oldest sacred rites, including Fennish magic and ancestor worship (both derided as "necromancy" by the Magisterium). For this reason, when the Heptarchy split over the ethics of necromancy and the Republic was riven with civil war, Róisín's parents declared the independence of the Fennish people, and joined the secessionist alliance. Inheritors to a centuries-long legacy of dissent and rebellion, they formed a guerilla resistance movement known as the Black Rose, which had its heart and headquarters in the dense, fae-infested wetlands of their home, but spread its influence across Cresvald through enclaves of diasporic Fennishmen. In the early days of the war their guerilla tactics were blunt but effective, and often resulted in enormous enemy casualties, resulting in their movement's derisive nickname, "the Bloody Rose."

For reasons that to this day she can only guess at, Róisín's parents involved her as part of the war effort from day one. Having undergone noesis the same year that the war began, her magical training came simultaneously to her training as guerilla fighter and potential leader for a rebel movement. While Róisín was never a warrior and never took up arms against the Magisterium, her magical talents were shaped toward the practical applications of healing and protection by her mother, herself an accomplished mage, so that Róisín could mend and care for Fennish soldiers wounded in the war. All the while, her father's mother tutored her in their people's traditional rites and magic, kept secret from the Magisterium for a thousand years.

Róisín's father was killed in the Siege of Pontaion, and the war ended soon after. As the presumed leader of the Black Rose, her mother Banba Ó Fintán was invited to the peace talks that followed the secessionists' defeat. Recognizing the Fennish people's many valid concerns, the Magisterium made concessions within Belworth’s Law to preseve the religious rights of their people, and appointed Banba as Adjutant-Prefect to the prefecture of Eochu, so that she might continue to lead and support her beleaguered people. With her mother's recommendation Róisín was sent to the Glynwood Institute as a show of good faith, though she herself wonders if she's more like a hostage. Her own feelings regarding the war's resolution are complex, but she finds herself sympathetic toward the remaining cells of the Black Rose that have refused to accept the peace accords her mother to which her mother agreed.

Tellurian

The warm, dark, pure, embracing veil of death. Night settling over an ancient bog. The light of a full moon, fireflies, the smell of peat.

Róisín's magical abilities largely relate to the traditional magic of her people and their verdant, boggy home. Considered for hundreds of years to be merely profane necromancy, Fennish magic is attuned to the natural cycles of life and the earth. Growth and decay, bounty and blight, birth and death. She can speak with and command beasts and plants, both living and dead, bend the elements of air, wood, and water to her will, and can heal the sick and wounded, as well as inflict venom and diseases. She also knows a little of charming magic, the rituals of Geas, and how to call upon the ancestral spirits of her people.

To keep her safe in Glynwood, Róisín was entrusted with two of her family's relics. First is her father's spear, which stands considerably taller than she does. With a haft of old hazel and a head of beautifully embellished bronze, the spear held powerful enchantments over life and death in her father's hands, but is now mostly inert in Róisín's. She uses it as a magical focus, as well as a deterrent for anyone who wants to cause trouble with her. The other is her grandmother's cauldron, an ancient pot of pitted, dark metal. Any food, potions, or other victuals brewed or cooked within the cauldron gain fortifying properties, and will never rot or go stale within the cauldron as long as a fire burns under it.

I'm not going to write her thick-ass Munster accent but feel free to imagine one.

Veronica von Vielhaber

18

Female.

Veronica is a young woman of moderately tall height at 5'8". Her jet-black shoulder-length hair framing a somewhat narrow face, set with dull blue eyes. Her skin has the light dusk of a tan but is pale enough to indicate outdoors is not her favored place to be. She is, however, surprisingly athletic in spite of that initial impression, her body lithe with muscle beneath her usual garb, unmarred by any form of blemish or body hair outside her head.

Finding the militaristic school uniforms to be constricting and antithetical to her self-image, while she wears the doublet, it is left open at the front with her own shirt worn under it, treating it more like a jacket. The uniform belt is worn beneath the doublet and equipped with various spell-casting and personal odds and ends. She has even modified the doublet so that it has inner pockets, within which she can conceal small items. Any part of the uniform that interferes with her personal comfort and convenience is promptly ignored or modified.

Sardonic and sharp-tongued, Veronica is a stubborn, prideful person with a mind towards her goals and disregard for opinions or obstacles that contradict them. While in an outward sense, she can play the political game of nobility, she loathes it with every fiber of her soul. And in spite of her pride, her pragmatism tends to keep it in check, channeling her ambition into a more calculating and patient route with higher chances of success. Her mind is sharp as a whip, peeling apart information with a sort of obsessiveness that could be called "overthinking".

Veronica is fairly private and does not make genuine positive emotional attachments easily, no matter what guise she might wear to imply otherwise. She has little respect for nobility, the military or any structure of authority over her, and any sign to the contrary is a facade meant to socially smooth her path over. To Veronica, the pursuit of knowledge and personal power takes precedence over most else. She cares not for legacy, family or noble alliances and structures, not in a personal sense. For her, personal improvement is the ends and reason in and of itself to be sought. The only thing that overrides even this deep-seated hunger in her soul is the desire to preserve her own well-being, a value that has tempered her from the day she could first use magic.

That being said, she is not wholly apathetic to all but her own interests. She has a sense of justice, a personal code, lines she considers best uncrossed by herself or others. Even as a necromancer, she is not needlessly cruel or entirely desensitized, and her hunger for knowledge is often channeled towards altruistic pursuits, like solving murders or allowing the living to get a semblance of closure from the shade of a lost one. As someone that sees little value in nobility, she doesn't possess the innate sense of superiority over common-folk that her peers tend to. The desires and concerns of peasants to her are valued, in fact, fairly higher on average than any other noble or spellcaster. She does, however, value the stability of the Republic insofar as its continued existence is beneficial to her living an unfettered life of learning. She sees war and anarchy as wasteful ventures not worth humoring seriously, and she is rather opposed to the idea of another kicking off... if for no other reason than to avoid being bothered fighting in it personally. Though, in that respect, she has no intention of graduating into the military upon leaving Glynwood, barring extenuating circumstances. Instead, a life as an independent, traveling mage, divorced from the squabbles of politics and rebellions and able to pursue her studies in peace and quiet, appeals much more highly to her.

Deep in the north, the name of Vielhaber holds interesting sway. Though they have been long-established for centuries, the family has remained stalwartly simplistic, almost "humble" by the standards of legacy mages. Though technically nobles, their line governs over but a single mediocre prefect of northern territory, not small by any means but far from large enough to be monumentally influential. For as long as they have been members of the Heptarchy, the Vielhaber have nonetheless been necromancers, skirting or outright defying the laws quietly with little regard for restriction. Under the leadership of the family's century-old and wizened matriarch, Gothel (known in certain circles as the "Dark Mother"), the family has refrained from making waves worth quelling and maintained their position in a sort of political stasis. Under Gothel’s guidance, the Vielhaber integrated and ingratiated themselves amongst society, becoming coroners, grave keepers, funeral directors, sources of manpower, detectives and public defenders, all through means supposedly forbidden. It would only be once the civil war broke out 8 years ago that this state of affairs changed.

With most of the family dissatisfied with the state of the Republic and the ruling against necromancy in Belworth's landmark case, the Vielhaber family was drawn inexorably into the war in some form or another, either due to internal motivation or mounting pressure from surrounding political interests of the North. Matriarch Gothel protested stubbornly, however, maintaining that the war would do more harm than good, and instead of participating directly, she would take those she could convince to abide to continue maintaining the civilian sector and focus on defending the family's holdings and people above and beyond all else. Thinking long-term, Gothel sought to maintain the family's positive impression amongst the commonfolk and beyond, running a "PR campaign" of sorts to ensure at least on part of the family could be perceived as reactionary pacifists instead of warmongers. In the predicted case that the rebel faction's effort fell through, this should ensure the Vielhabers could still sit at a cordial negotiation table and get away with comparatively light punishments.

In the meantime, however, the main incited bulk of the family joined the war with zeal, eager to finally put their knowledge into practice and their skills to a true test. Amongst these necromancers were Veronica's parents, both a match made in hell with a hunger for power and glory, who merely saw the war as an excuse to shirk the binds of law over their "art". Against the Matriarch's strong suggestions, the depraved duo that should have never been allowed to reproduce had brought their 10-year-old daughter into the field.

Even amongst the family of legacy necromancer's Veronica's parents were known for pushing at the boundaries of what was acceptable, chafing under even the most trivial of restrictions. They had gone so far as to use the soul-warping effects of Dark Magic to forcibly induce neosis within their daughter long before puberty and used it to artificially accelerate the growth of her magical capacity. Having felt a pain that redefined her world and pumped with arcane education from nearly the moment she could reason coherently, Veronica was thrust into war without a care by her parents. In the field, she learned of necromancy in all the most practical and horrifying of ways. The world was her meat locker, and her parents were her guides.

Thankfully, though she picked up their hunger for knowledge and power, this unfettered immorality did not take root in Veronica. She did not spend all the time under her parents' watch, as the two warmongers often had the sense to leave their less experienced daughter behind while they stormed the frontlines. In her time away, Veronica earned an appreciation for the "healing" arts by way of necromantic means, further educated herself in topics beyond war talking to patients and other rebel soldiers, and looking out across many sights of devastation and death, she came to the slow but inexorable revelation that her grandmother, whom her parents had long complained about, had been right from the start. War was ugly and wasteful, of time, of resources, of lives. Every civilian death was another life and family cut short before its time. Every mage extinguished was centuries of potential accolades and contributions to the world's collective knowledge thrown in the garbage. She had possessed some comprehension before, but she became more certain every time she reunited with them. Her parents were monsters, and she wanted out. She wanted to live for herself. She wanted to thrive.

And as the war raged on, she began to pursue this ambition to escape and survive. Pushing for a more backline position whenever she could, refining her capacity as a healer and increasing her value in positions other than the front. Slowly but surely, she drifted away from her parents' radius of influence while carefully stoking their reckless passion to send them into distant danger more often. Veronica spent the last 2 years of the war pursuing this strategy, always watching for a chance to present itself... and in time, she got it.

In the aftermath of the Siege of Pontaion, Veronica's parents were hunted down and slain alongside many other master necromancers by Auristel and his cohort. With the war going south for the rebels, Veronica would finally take the opportunity to flee a lost cause. Abandoning her position and traveling back to the northern Vielhaber territories, Veronica linked up with her grandmother, telling her of her parents' fate and all that had transpired to her at their hands. In the wake of those horrifying revelations, Gothel bestowed a regency on Veronica over her parents' property and took guardianship of her until she was of a position to manage it.

Set adrift of the bustle of the war she had lived for the past years, Veronica settled into a quiet, studious life under her grandmother's tutelage as an apprentice, further refining her magic in preparation for potential trouble to come. Though the war had ended and "peace" been reestablished, Gothel smelled unrest and sought to prepare her family to more appropriately respond in a manner that would see them on the right side of the conflict next time. As such, once she was satisfied with Veronica's refurbished education, Gothel insisted the young woman attend Glynwood, and unable to find a polite way to refuse, Veronica went along with it, feeling she owed her grandmother this much. It was Gothel's wish that Veronica begin to make inroads with the loyalist factions, to begin to mend bridges and showcase necromancy's potential as a productive and tolerable force in society. As for if Veronica will succeed in this task?

Only time will tell.

Tellurian.

As a primarily Dark Magic practitioner, Veronica's aura heavily reflects this. Her aura has a hazy navy hue at its center but quickly turns a smokey grey and then oily the further from her body it reaches, eventually transitioning into an almost bubbling, thick smog with a liquid, tar-like consistency, fizzling to the touch like an acidic chemical reaction and thick enough to actually physically conceal Veronica from normal sight while it billows around her body (though, she seems to have no trouble navigating it). For those that pay attention, her aura emits low meaningless whispers, taunting listeners with nonsense no matter how closely they focus. All the while, there is the sensation of being watched intently just outside the corner of one's vision wherever the aura is present. Due to the Dark Magic nature of her aura, it is prone to growing much larger than the average and lingering even when she moves, leaving trails of swelling smog across any place she unleashes it and potentially obscuring vision for those without sensory magic.

Taegan “Tae” Graham

18

Nonbinary (They/Them)

Taegan is a tall lanky young person. They stand at 6’3” and towers over many others. They have slender build with slight muscle definition that they maintains for cosmetic reasons. They have a heart shaped face with soft features that could convincingly belong to a man or a woman. They wear makeup to contour their face to emphasize their masculinity or femininity depending on their whims. That or use magic. Their hair is blonde and kept in a short bob normally. Sometimes they’ll wear wigs if they want to experiment with different hairstyles, or again use magic. They have a fair skin complexion. They have clear striking blue eyes. They have no body or facial hair.

Sometimes Tae presents masculine, some days Tae presents feminine, but most days Tae presents androgynous. Either way Taegan sees themselves as beautiful, and sees no reason why others shouldn’t also. Tae enjoys clothes. They are partial to robes, but also likes tunics with tights, fancy suits, as well as pretty gowns. They will wear anything as long as it is expensive. They wear the finest silks and fabrics money can buy, and anything less is offensive. Sitting atop of their head is a crown of gold leaves

Taegan was born into high status and prestige. They flaunt their nobility wherever they go, and will not hesitate to remind you of their status. They dress and act like someone with wealth. They are used to luxury, and are accustomed to everything being the best of the best. Anything less is just an insult. Even though they know that one day it is their duty to rule them, Tae has a tendency to look down on commoners. They know they can’t help their lowborn status, and that is why it is their duty to rule them, and guide them towards a path to a better life.

Taegan is a natural born leader. They like to take charge of situations, and they know how to speak to get others to listen to them. When they really want to, they can be an inspiring figure. They take great joy in being in charge and in control. They like to impose their own will on others. They are quick to tell others why their ideas are wrong, and Tae’s own ideas are right. However, they don’t take it well when their ideology is challenged. They only care about others as long as they are useful and are willing to cooperate toward common goals. They are quick to move on from relationships with others as soon as they are no longer useful.

They are overly confident in their abilities and status, but deep down they are rather lonely. Yes, They has a close connection with The Goddess, but it’s not the same. They like to think others would flock and gravitate torwards a natural ruler like themself, but they don’t. They will never admit this to anyone, but they would like one true friend. It’s just hard to balance leadership and friendship.

A brief synopsis of your character’s life before attending the academy. Remember that all students require a letter of recommendation from a practicing mage to apply at Glynwood, so you'll need at least one person that'll vouch for you.

Tellurian or Ouranian.

What does your aura look/feel/sound like?

Light magic

List staves, enchanted trinkets, or anything else your character might own of the magical variety. Take this part out if your character lacks any possessions that fit this description.

Dumb trivia you couldn’t worm in anywhere else but really want us to know about your character.

Iris Myristikos

18

Female

Her wavy platinum blonde hair is only somewhat exotic for her hometown, though it stands out more in Glynwood. Her eyes are a striking silver tinged slightly with blue. Her skin is somewhat pale. She stands slightly taller than average, but her clothing tends to hide how the rest of her looks.

Wears extremely humble clothing that she hand-sewed when not in her uniform. Absolutely no sense of fashion.

Wears her uniform without alteration, except for her large scarf which is part of her religious habit. It is patterned with symbols related to her temple and the Worldsoul, and can also be worn as a veil or even a short cape. Intentionally chose a larger size uniform because it reminded her of her robes at the temple.

Innocent and pure to a fault. Those who know her from the temple liken her to a saint, possessing great patience and grace. She cherishes all life, and is loathe to hurt another living thing, even accidentally. She finds it unthinkable to break rules, even if she doesn’t fully understand them. Her humble upbringing has made her unaware of many of the luxuries and conveniences of the greater world.

Raised from youth at a local temple, Iris was instilled with the temple's foremost tenets: Charity, mercy, and service. She was considered a shining beacon of virtue by many, with equal parts grace and humility, and always willing to help others. Left as a child upon the grounds of the temple, she wholeheartedly accepted those of the temple and the Worldsoul as her family.

Her late noesis after her sixteenth birthday caused many things to change for her; and while she seemed to have an innate knack for more... destructive magic, the leader of the temple could not manage to instill in her any magic more befitting a gentle servant of the Worldsoul. Whenever she called forth her abilities, only great destruction and terror followed - much to her distress. Though she was utterly devoted to her town and temple, she reluctantly agreed to attempt to study at Glynwood, in hopes that she could one day return to the temple with a grasp of more… peaceful magic.

Tellurian.

Arcing lines and beams of light radiate from her. An unsettling crackle of electricity. The light seems to focus around her head, not unlike a halo.

She has a wonderful knack for conjuring lightning, white-hot plasma, and destructive blasts of light. She can’t quite seem to figure out ways to tone them down.

Celebrates many strange holidays due to her temple’s local traditions.