[h2]New NPCs[/h2]
[hider=Ciro Volta]
[colour=CD853F][center]
[h2][u]C I R O   V O L T A[/u][/h2][img]https://i.imgur.com/zrMVucM.png[/img]
[color=white]“Love shows itself more in adversity than in prosperity; as light does, which shines most where the place is darkest.”[/color]
[b][colour=FFE4C4]17[/colour] | [colour=FFE4C4]Male[/colour] | [colour=FFE4C4]Human[/colour] | [colour=FFE4C4]Revidia[/colour] | [colour=FFE4C4]Merchant[/colour] | [colour=FFE4C4]RAS: 7.95 (Manas: 126)[/colour] | [colour=FFE4C4]Worldbinder[/colour][/b][/center]
[center][youtube]https://youtu.be/qGS4G93Q0GI?si=uPMR4KrBCd2o1_Gv[/youtube][/center]
[h3][u][colour=white]P E R S O N A L[/colour] [/u][/h3][indent]❖ [ [colour=white][b]Pronouns[/b][/colour] ] - [colour=FFE4C4]He / Him[/colour]
❖ [ [colour=white][b]Honorifics:[/b][/colour] ] - [colour=FFE4C4]Biro[/colour], [colour=FFE4C4]Master[/colour], [color=FFE4C4]Mister[/color].
❖ [ [colour=white][b]Nicknames:[/b][/colour] ] - [colour=FFE4C4]"Acco" or "Accorto"[/colour]
❖ [ [colour=white][b]Titles:[/b][/colour] ] - [colour=FFE4C4]Biro of the Ersand'Enise Academy of Thaumaturgy.[/colour]
❖ [ [colour=white][b]Relationship Status:[/b][/colour] ] - [colour=FFE4C4]Yes.[/colour]
❖ [ [colour=white][b]Character Alignment[/b][/colour] ] - [colour=FFE4C4]Lawful Neutral.[/colour]
❖ [ [colour=white][b]Brief Introduction:[/b][/colour] ] [/indent][colour=FFE4C4] [url=https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=r65E9N8D_3s]♫[/url] [i]"My boy: flesh of my flesh, blood of my blood,
You enter our world this day: a small, red, crying thing.
It is a place of hardship and want; of struggle and peril.
Yet, I promise you that it is also beautiful.
I promise that your mother and I would not have brought you here
If there was not wonder and love and opportunity for you to find.
You are no king, my little one. You bear no title before your name: Ciro. 
It means 'sun', for that is what you are to us. 
Your ancestors achieved no great glory in battle, flew no flags, slew no dragons.
They were farmers. They were cloth sellers. They went to markets. They conquered oceans and
They built an empire, Ciro: an empire of their own, spanning the globe over, 
And they did it without bloodshed. They were clever. They were shrewd. But they were [b]good.[/b]
This is the legacy that has passed to me and, someday, it will pass to you.
I love you, my son, even though I will not often say it as you grow,
For a man must be hard. He must provide and protect. He must venture and he must seek
And he may show no weakness, except in these rare moments, ones like this.
Then, I think, it is alright.
I will be there, ever at your back, I promise, to hold you up when you stumble,
To catch you when you fall. Until, one day, it will be your turn to catch me.
Your mother and I: we are so excited. We can't wait to see what you become."[/i]

[url=https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=MK-lwIGwp9Y]♫[/url] Ciro was born in the city of Cantativa into the Volta family: among Revidia's most prominent merchants and, more recently, bankers. As the eldest of three children, he was destined to inherit the family concern and a position of significant power and authority within Revidian society. His mother, Vittoria, was a fourth daughter from the noble house of Aldebrandi and, from her, he inherited substantial power in the Gift. 

His early years were simple and idyllic, no different from those of any other wealthy young heir of a major merchant concern: His education entrusted to some of the brightest minds in the nation, long idyllic dorrads and rezains in the vineyards and olive groves of the family villa at Montignano, playing hide and seek with his sisters and his dog Grasso. His father, Cosimo Volta, tended to the family's flourishing business along with his brothers and cousins and, increasingly, affairs of state. Ciro is too young to remember the dark days of conflict during the Joruban Revolution. He grew up in its aftermath, as a newly assertive Revidia sought to stake for itself a greater place on the world stage and the policies of Prospero Malatesta l'Anguilla increasingly shaped its society. His father went from supporter to opponent of the Malatesta regime after the infamous 'Betrayal at Sant'Albertino' where he ultimately took the part of the nobility in continuing to bar members of the merchant class for ascending to the position of Doge.

Yet, political setbacks aside, the family continued to flourish and, even more so, Revidia. Ciro manifested his first magic and, if he was not quite a prodigy, he was [i]good[/i]: better than his parents had dared hope for. Soon, his sisters Selena and Lucrezia followed him and he began spending his afternoons, when he was not being tutored rigorously in arithmetic, the natural sciences, oration, linguistics, or the thaumaturgical arts, with his father, familiarizing himself with the globe-spanning concern that he was one day to head.

At first, it was daunting: decisions that affected so many lives in the hands of one person. It did not seem a good thing. It did not seem... right. And yet, someone had to do it. That responsibility fell to the merchant class. It fell to [i]him,[/i] and to do it with greater care and godliness than the uninformed might. This was his place in society, as designed by Shune, the Learner, and Dami, the Judge. He settled into the role with the grace and poise his family had known he would. His father took him aside and it was here that he embraced his son and handed to a fourteen-year-old Ciro the note he had written on the day of the boy's birth. All was well. It was smooth sailing on a calm sea.

Yet, the currents of state move quickly in Revidia and, often, they are treacherous. Within the halls of government, Cosimo was being groomed as a rival to the doge himself. He was not so important as to be the only one, but nonetheless, it was true. As his time investment in the company necessarily decreased, his cousin Jacopo stepped into many of the positions he had held. While he continued to take Ciro through his weekly rounds, grooming him for the position he was to inherit, they were now accompanied by his own sons. 

Then, one day, his father simply didn't return home from a voyage to Civitalunga. His ship, the grand galleon Impressa d'Oro had foundered in a storm off of Punto di San Michele. Yet, the Impressa was a sturdy ship and the storm had, by all reports, not been that bad. Ciro was no fool. His father: that lion of a man, who had spoken truth to power, who had always kept the Gods, who had conducted his business with decency and compassion... he had been murdered, either by the doge or by Jacopo. Why not both? For one hour, he locked himself in his room and he wept bitterly, clutching the note he had been given to his heart and swearing to do right by it. Then, he emerged, two years short of his majority, and made peace with his father's killers. It sickened him deep down where he would show nobody, for a man must be hard, but this was the Revidian way. He embraced cousin Jacopo and kissed him on both cheeks. He took his father's place in the Assembly of the Illustrious Republic and shook hands with l'Anguilla, assuring the doge of his continuing loyalty and support.

Ciro was not idle, however. He used what power he had to place Jacopo in direct charge of their textile business. It had once been their mainstay and was, in theory, an immensely influential position, but it was not profitable. His sons Antonio and Lorenzo were sent to distant ports as regional heads and, when the time came, suitable accidents arranged for them. Business withers if it is conducted only with coin, however, and he had learned this well. He enrolled in Ersand'Enise and, when he received the summons back home, for the funeral of his cousins, he had his servant, Gordo, bring him a bitter glass of wine. He sipped it in silence and darkness before setting his affairs in order and departing the next morning.

He took old Jacopo in his arms and consoled him, for the man had loved his sons almost as much as he had loved himself. Then, he let him fall into his cups and continue ruining the family's textile business. He sent the Dieci Volti some money to enhance the process. 

During the cold, bitter hundri of DZ55, a meeting of the directors of the Compagnia de la Volta was convened and a vote was held. Ciro traveled not by portal, for a year at the academy had taught him that there was something peculiar about his manas: they resisted magics of space and time. They closed off the hungering VOID. He told nobody, for it was a useful if inconvenient power and he was already honing his use of it. He merely booked passage on one ship and then embarked upon another. The first one sank. The second did not. It was only late and he arrived to find Jacopo delivering something of a teary-eyed eulogy for that 'poor, cursed family'. Ciro said nothing, for nothing strengthens authority so much as silence. Instead, Jacopo was removed from his position. Cosimo's loyalists still held a bare majority and Ciro had treated Jacopo's people well enough that they would rather the business flourish under someone who was not 'their man' than one who was both inept and treacherous. Prospero Malatesta sent him a personal letter of congratulations and was eager to talk business with him when he arrived in Avincia. They spent two hours in a rosebush-filled courtyard - two circling mongooses - feeling each other out before parting with something of an understanding. Ciro returned to Montignano to a meal of calamari, pheasant, and fine breads from his mother. He, she, and his sisters sat by candlelight in the villa and made plans for the future. 

It wasn't for very long, however. Ciro needed to return to the academy of thaumaturgy, where many interesting people were doing interesting things. There are four months left until he reaches his majority and formally takes control of the Compagnia. Tell me: are [i]you[/i] someone interesting? He would [i]love[/i] to know.[/colour]

[h3][u][colour=white]C H A R A C T E R   A P P E A R A N C E[/colour] [/u][/h3][center][img]https://i.pinimg.com/564x/fd/54/61/fd54617fe5e3d2cf877ee7bcb0605a99.jpg[/img][/center]
[indent]❖ [ [colour=white][b]Eyes:[/b][/colour] ] - [colour=FFE4C4]Blue-Green.[/colour]
❖ [ [colour=white][b]Hair:[/b][/colour] ] - [colour=FFE4C4]Black, Wavy[/colour]
❖ [ [colour=white][b]Skin Tone:[/b][/colour] ] - [colour=FFE4C4]Fitzpatrick type II.[/colour]
❖ [ [colour=white][b]Height:[/b][/colour] ] - [colour=FFE4C4]5ft 9in / 177cm.[/colour]
❖ [ [colour=white][b]Weight:[/b][/colour] ] - [colour=FFE4C4]150lb / 68kg.[/colour]
❖ [ [colour=white][b]Physique:[/b][/colour] ] - [colour=FFE4C4]Athletic.[/colour]
❖ [ [colour=white][b]Facial Features:[/b][/colour] ] - [colour=FFE4C4]Sharp features, substantial brows[/colour]
❖ [ [colour=white][b]Physical Quirks:[/b][/colour] ] - [colour=FFE4C4]None.[/colour]
❖ [ [colour=white][b]Distinctive Features:[/b][/colour] ] - [colour=FFE4C4]Birthmark on his left forearm shaped a bit like a Pentact.[/colour]
❖ [ [colour=white][b]Apparel & Accessories:[/b][/colour] ] - [colour=FFE4C4]A fine pocketwatch with a hidden compartment, a copy of the note his father left him.[/colour][/indent] [colour=FFE4C4]Ciro dresses well, but never ostentatiously. He takes pride in his appearance and makes no attempts at false humility over his success and his station. His clothing is functional and always tailored to fit the situation and, while he has people to dress him, he has studied fashions and styles to the point where he can make his own decisions and, more importantly, will know if they're misleading him. 

Beyond clothing, Ciro is a handsome young man, with bright, keen green-blue (or is blue-green?) eyes, wavy black hair kept at a respectable length, and sharp features. He is lean and athletic, with visible muscular definition but nothing overstated. Magic, at the end of the day, is his weapon of choice, and his body - healthy and well cared for - an instrument to deliver it.[/colour]

[h3][colour=white][b]T H E   G I F T[/b][/colour][/h3]
[center][img]https://i.pinimg.com/564x/02/ee/6b/02ee6bd66d3a5800050f5af33591914e.jpg[/img][/center]
[indent]❖ [ [colour=FFD700][b]Magnetic:[/b][/colour] [colour=FFFFFF][i][/i][/colour] ] – [ [colour=FFFFFF]0. Neophyte[/colour] ]
❖ [ [colour=FF8C00][b]Arcane:[/b][/colour] [colour=FFFFFF][i]Pyromancy, Illusion[/i][/colour] ] – [ [colour=FFFFFF]IV. Journeyman[/colour] ]
❖ [ [colour=FF0000][b]Binding:[/b][/colour] [colour=FFFFFF][i]Healing, Creation[/i][/colour] ] – [ [colour=FFFFFF]III. Adept[/colour] ]
❖ [ [colour=BA55D3][b]Chemical:[/b][/colour] [colour=FFFFFF][i]Deceptive, Disruptive[/i][/colour] ] – [ [colour=FFFFFF]IV. Journeyman[/colour] ]
❖ [ [colour=0072bc][b]Kinetic:[/b][/colour] [colour=FFFFFF][i]Enhancement, Gravitational[/i][/colour] ] – [ [colour=FFFFFF]IV. Journeyman[/colour] ]

❖ [ [colour=00FF00][b]Atomic Magic:[/b][/colour] [colour=FFFFFF][i][/i][/colour] ] – [ [colour=FFFFFF]0. Neophyte[/colour] ]
❖ [ [colour=FF0000][b]Blood Magic:[/b][/colour] [colour=FFFFFF][i][/i][/colour] ] – [ [colour=FFFFFF]0. Neophyte[/colour] ]
❖ [ [colour=FFFFFF][b]Temporal Magic:[/b][/colour] [colour=FFFFFF][i][/i][/colour] ] – [ [colour=FFFFFF]0. Neophyte[/colour] ]
❖ [ [colour=000000][b]Dark Magic:[/b][/colour] [colour=FFFFFF][i][/i][/colour] ] – [ [colour=FFFFFF]0. Neophyte[/colour] ]
❖ [ [colour=808080][b]Command:[/b][/colour] [colour=FFFFFF][i][/i][/colour] ] – [ [colour=FFFFFF]0. Neophyte[/colour] ]
❖ [ [colour=964B00][b]Primordial:[/b][/colour] [colour=FFFFFF][i][/i][/colour] ] – [ [colour=FFFFFF]0. Neophyte[/colour] ]
[/indent]
[b]Hex Codes:[/b] [colour=FFE4C4]colour=FFE4C4[/colour][/colour][/hider]
[hider=Johann Steinbauer][center][h2][u] J O H A N N   S T E I N B A U E R [/u][/h2][h3]V O N   O S T E R M A R K  -  K A R N H O L D T[/h3]
[img]https://i.imgur.com/KLkHEp6.png[/img][/center]
[b][center] [i]"Discovery is the spice of life."[/i] [/center][/b]
[hr][hr][center][h3][b] 19 | Male | Kerreman | Noble | 8.75 [/b] [/h3][/center]
[h3][u]P E R S O N A L I T Y        	[/u][/h3]
[indent]❖ [ A F F A B L E ]   [color=000000][sub][i]dispassionate[/i][/sub][/color]
❖ [ H U M O R O U S ]   [color=000000][sub][i]secretive[/i][/sub][/color]
❖ [ B R I L L I A N T ]   [color=000000][sub][i]utilitarian[/i][/sub][/color]
❖ [ G E N E R O U S ]   [color=000000][sub][i]selfish[/i][/sub][/color]
❖ [ E A S Y G O I N G ]   [color=000000][sub][i]twisted[/i][/sub][/color][/indent]
Everybody loves Johann - at least, anyone who's not a complete stick in the mud. This rather portly Kerreman lad is famous for frequenting the bars, pool halls, study halls, and biergärtens of Ersand'Enise. He can often be found at the library, collaborating academically with his fellow students, at the bank, managing his family's business ventures, or at the auction house, bidding on seemingly random items of interest. Whatever he might be up to, however, Johann never forgets his friends, classmates, acquaintances, and... well, just about anybody. One can be certain that, whatever he purchases, most of it will be for others, for it is Johann's foremost philosophy that something enjoyed alone is not truly enjoyed. So, he is always the one to buy an extra round for everyone in the bar, to organize the study session, to share his notes, to pay for dinner. He has the money, after all, and spending it on others is an investment in their happiness. Nothing makes him happier than being around people who [i]want[/i] to be around him in return. The most basic litmus test for many biros on whether someone is a decent friend or not is whether they like Johann. Anyone who doesn't, clearly has no appreciation for what makes someone good.

[color=000000]Of course, most of this is a complete fabrication. Beneath his affable surface, Johann is cold, calculating, and ruthless. Driven by an obsessive need to discern the secrets of the human and humanoid body and develop complete mastery over it, he regularly engages in the most inhumane and sordid of experimentation. This is a strictly-kept secret, with even the school authorities unaware of either the experiments or their originator. Johann, meanwhile, has little use for social convention, tradition, or politics. They are merely tools that he employs and levers that he pulls to further his ends. Skillfully, he uses his money, raw magical power, and burgeoning reputation as insurance to guarantee that nobody could possibly believe the truth were someone to ever leak it. Someday, he knows, he will change the world, and a glorious day it will be. For the time being, sacrifices must be made - just not [i]his[/i].[/color]

[h3][u]C H A R A C T E R	A P P E A R A N C E        	[/u][/h3]
An absolutely enormous young man, in both height and especially heft, Johann is notable for his bright red hair, sharp little beard, and jolly face, which often wears a mischievous smirk. There are times when something [i]else[/i] seems to flash through his smiling brown eyes, but it must just be a trick of the light. He is friendly to a fault.

His clothing is all custom-tailored, a necessity for one of his size and wealth, and reflects the latter with its fine materials and cut in addition to a colourful, adventurous palette that reflects his open, fun, and gregarious nature. This young Kerreman is very self-aware and definitely the sort to lean into his reputation and appearance. If he isn't the handsome leading man, then he's the funny friendly fat guy who everyone likes. Things are easier that way anyhow: many more surface friendships and few of the deeper entanglements that can be so problematic.

[h3][u]L A N G U A G E S        	[/u][/h3]
[indent]❖ [ K E R R E M A N ] natively
❖ [ A V I N C I A N ] fluently
❖ [ H U U L I S C H ] fluently
❖ [ P E R R E N C H ] fluently
❖ [ R E V I D I A N ] semi-fluently
❖ [ C O N S T A N T I A N   Y A S O I ] basically[/indent]
[h3][u]T H E	G I F T        	[/u][/h3] [i]Blueblood, Copycat[/i]

❖ [color=FFD700][ M A G N E T I C ][/color] 4   	 ❖ [color=00FF00][ A T O M I C ][/color] 0
❖ [color=FF8C00][ A R C A N E ][/color] 0   	 ❖ [color=800000][ B L O O D ][/color] 4
❖ [color=FF0000][ B I N D I N G ][/color] 3   	 ❖ [color=FFFFF0][ T E M P O R A L ][/color] ?
❖ [color=BA55D3][ C H E M I C A L ][/color] 5   	 ❖ [color=000000][ D A R K ][/color] 0
❖ [color=1E90FF][ K I N E T I C ][/color] 0   	 ❖ [color=808080][ C O M M A N D ][/color] 0

Johann is, ultimately, a terrifying force of nature with the Gift, and his manas' ability to copy spells renders him even [i]more[/i] potent. However, his greatest weapon is his mind and his ability to manipulate people. Unsurprisingly, his magic is tailored to fit this skillset. While he can certainly heal competently, he focuses more on fleshcrafting, generation, and regeneration. His use of Chemical and Magnetic magics is specialized in their biomanipulative aspects with some competency in illusion, corrosives, toxins, and energy. For the most part, however, he passes himself off as a healer, transmuter, lightning mage, and explosive chemist, perfectly competent, but not exceptional.

Finally, his massive size proves a boon with magic, giving him a capacity well in excess of most other people. In a pinch, he can liquidate his own energy-rich fat reserves for a sudden burst of power. This is only a last resort, as is - to some extent - combat itself. The best way to win is to never have to fight, or at least to never have to fight anyone who has a chance against you. When nobody's looking, Johann is rather good at punching down.

[h3][u]B A C K G R O U N D        	[/u][/h3]
He should’ve been born a first son. Alas, he was not. While his eldest sister Sybille is now Duchess of Lindermetz and in line to be queen consort, and his elder brother Klaus stands to inherit the duchy upon their father’s passing, little but a name and some share of his family’s substantial wealth is left to Johann, the pudgy little second son. The less that is spoken of his pompous godly younger brother Wilhelm and simpleminded sister Ulrike, the better.

From the time that he was old enough to understand that he was the spare and not the heir, Johann alternated between bitterness and some misplaced desperation to prove himself. Alas, for all that he was warm and kind - qualities uncharacteristic of high Kerreman nobility - Markgraf Klaus was a man of rules and principles, and his dictated that, while Johann was to be loved and provided for, he was not to inherit unless some calamity befell his brother. The ancient rules and the ancient line of Ostermark-Thandau were not to be disturbed or altered in any manner.

Yet, even warmth and care can only extend so far when he who has taken it upon himself to provide them is rarely present. The duties of Klaus - the elder Klaus, that was - kept him away from the family estate for months on end and, if he was a welcome presence to his wife and children, he was also set apart from them. Johann was left, by and large, to his tutors and his own devices. 

While Sybille grew into a graceful and intelligent young woman, strong in body, mind, and magic, Klaus spent most of his time outdoors, hunting, riding, playing sports and wargames. Johann preferred books. He was too small to keep up with his vigorous older brother, and so he ate and he ate. Wilhelm was always his mother’s creature, much concerned with following her around, going to worship, and doting on feebleminded Ulrike. Before long, as his siblings went off to Ersand’Enise, the second son was left master of the house, at least in theory. In practice, he was given the small town of Thandau to administer as he saw fit.

His Gift had begun to manifest itself and, by the age of twelve, clever and intelligent Johann was finding ways to use it around the estate and the town. When he was not eating - for it had become a custom of his and his appetite was great - he was studying or at work on some new scheme to improve irrigation in the orchards, reorganize the tax records, reduce livestock loss, or incentivize the peasants to train at arms or send their sons and daughters to school. He shuddered to think that so many were illiterate and most showed little interest in reading or learning. A life without books was an unthinkable thing to him.

Around this time, he also began to develop the usual urges that a young man might at such an  age. There was Katherine, daughter of one of the junkers. She was pretty and how he liked to look at her sometimes, but she was dumb. There was Alena, of Kurlich-Karnholdt, who was smart and friendly, but homely and oh-so traditional. Then, there were the many pretty girls about town, like Wilma, Verena, Therese, and Zoe. They fluttered around in their dorrad dresses, always leaning into each other, whispering and giggling as they carried baskets or sacks. 

Finally, there was Margerethe, the miller’s daughter, but he knew to avoid her for the difference in their station. This, too, he found paradoxical. Perhaps the body of society needed to be organized, with each part serving its purpose, but there were some people who were clearly ill-suited for their stations or better suited for others. She was bright and beautiful and witty and would just as easily have made a duchess as a miller’s daughter. Johann learned when her father was there and when he was not and he made a point of bringing grain down or running an inspection or some other errand whenever he could. She always seemed to have a grin or a blush when he came around and he began dressing better. Whenever he saw her with the other girls, she would glance his way quickly before turning to them and whispering in hushed, excited tones. He knew that he was not handsome, but Klaus had told him well enough what it meant when girls did that.

Over the course of that dorrad and early rezain, Johann redoubled his studies and the work that he undertook on his family’s behalf. While Klaus was busy drinking and bedding women and casting fireballs at Ersand’Enise, Johann was actively bettering the duchy of Ostermark-Thandau. Often, he would come by Margerethe’s house and bring some book to share with her. He had extra food prepared and would carry it over in a basket so that she might eat like the duchess she should’ve been. Over the warm months, they spent a great many hours together. She confided in him that he was her dearest friend. He learned every bit of gossip about town and her opinions on everyone. Her magic was not so great, but he taught her how to use what she had. 

Finally, he received news that, two days hence, his father was to return from an absence of some six months, and with momentous news. Johann burned with indecision. He could make his stand here: appeal to his father’s sense of fairness and desire to better the duchy’s position, and present himself as the clear heir, or he could embrace his insignificance and ask that he might be able to court Margerethe after all, as he was only a second son. It was late in rezain and the leaves were falling in earnest when he went to her to ask for her counsel and confess his feelings. He had taken care to make the moment special: a picnic in a field beneath a great oak tree, her favourite book, cake, and candles.

He left the picnic with cake on his face, having fallen forward when she flinched away from his kiss. He was a friend, a dear friend, she’d insisted, but it was foolish for them to be together. He’d suggested the elope, cheeks burning with shame and anxiety as he’d wiped the icing away, but then she’d been honest: she didn’t love him. She didn’t want to lie to him and use him for his money or station, but she felt no stirring inside of her. Johann had left her with the picnic, left her to clean it up, and walked away. It seemed that his course had been set. He was not beautiful, but he knew, at least, that he was effective.

He met his father on the road, having commandeered one of the grain wagons for the job, as he was not a good rider. There, he regaled the elder Steinbauer with the many great things he had achieved during those six months. He built up towards his case for inheriting the estate, for how much good he could do, and the evidence was all around them as they made their way through Thandau. 

It was no longer theirs. Markgraf Klaus had been away arranging the marriage of Sybille to Prince Freidrich and Thandau was part of the dowry. He had, further, arranged for Klaus’ marriage to homely Alena and acquired Karnholdt in the deal. Johann’s work had been for nothing: a waste of resources better spent elsewhere. Furthermore, he had been busy stuffing his face, embarrassing himself about town, and being seen scandalously with a local girl. [i]One who doesn’t even love me,[/i] the boy had thought. He was to attend Ersand’Enise himself in three years time, he was to learn, to make social connections, and to bring no further disrepute upon his family. Then, he was to take his place. He could see the wavering in his father’s bearing, hear it - ever so slightly - in his voice. There was none from Johann. He accepted the rebuke in humble good humour and vowed to do better. If he became a bit dissolute afterwards, a bit of a merry, feckless drinker and jolly do-nothing, it was only what was expected of him anyhow. He must never outshine his brother. He must never aspire to more.

Yet, he does.

[h3][u]M O T I V A T I O N        	[/u][/h3]
Johann's motivations are simple: make friends, have a good time, and make the world a better place. He is altruistic sometimes to a fault: there are those among his 'friends' who appear to just use him for the money, status, or academic benefits. However, unless they reciprocate in at least [i]some[/i] fashion, they never seem to hang around for long.

He also has his research interests, of course, and he dedicates plenty of time to these, often locking himself in the Grand Library's solitary study rooms or disappearing into the laboratory that occupies the tower of his townhouse. These are basically the only times that he isn't out and about and being social.

[color=000000][sub]Of course, there's a whole other side.[/sub][/color]

[h3][u]I N V E N T O R Y        	[/u][/h3]
Johann dresses as one might expect of someone of his pedigree, but he will almost never be seen carrying any visible weapon or obvious magical paraphernalia or focus. He will always have a few sacks of money on his person, in various denominations, as well as a handful of reagents and an imbued wand. Almost all of his items are, in fact, imbued in some way, though none is of particular note on its own.

[h3][u]S T R E N G T H S  &  S K I L L S       	[/u][/h3]
[indent]❖ [ C H A R I S M A T I C ]
❖ [ V E R S A T I L E ]
❖ [ B R I L L I A N T ]
❖ [ S C I E N T I F I C A L L Y   K N O W L E D G E A B L E ]
❖ [ W E L L   C O N N E C T E D ] [/indent]
Johann is extremely bright, superficially charming and likeable, and is excellent at adapting to unexpected situations and seizing opportunities. He has social and business connections one would not expect of someone his age and will throw his weight around for friends and even acquaintances though, beneath the facade, this is very much a calculated thing. His knowledge of cutting-edge science is nearly unparalleled and he regularly employs it in his studies and everyday life. Finally, he is immensely physically strong, though he rarely makes use of this strength, at the cost of physical endurance. He weighs slightly over 400 lbs, after all. 

[h3][u]W E A K N E S S E S  &  F L A W S        	[/u][/h3]
[indent]❖ [ O U T   O F    S H A P E ]
❖ [ C O W A R D L Y ]
❖ [ D E C E I T F U L ]
❖ [ M I S A N T H R O P I C ]
❖ [ A R T I F I C I A L] [/indent]
All of Johann’s charm is skin-deep, or perhaps just a bit more than that, but not much. Beneath the surface, he is a bitter and detached individual with a colossal superiority complex fed, deep down, by a lack of self-esteem. He will make a show of bravery when required but, if there is genuine danger or risk, he will almost always try to weasel his way out of it. Finally, his level of fitness, while improved recently, still leaves much to be desired. For anything requiring stamina, he leans heavily upon his abilities with the Gift.

[h3][u]M I S C E L L A N E O U S        	[/u][/h3]
Colour Code: [color=Goldenrod]Goldenrod[/color][/hider]
[hider=Seviin'delaan'taxoiya][center][h2][u] S E V I I N ' D E L A A N ' T A X O I Y A [/u][/h2]
[img]https://i.imgur.com/e471Jvy.png[/img][/center]
[b][center] [i]"A healer should do no harm."[/i] [/center][/b]
[hr][hr][center][h3][b] 16 | Female | Yandese | Clergy | 8.24 [/b] [/h3][/center]
[h3][u]P E R S O N A L I T Y        	[/u][/h3]
[indent]❖ [ P R I N C I P L E D ]
❖ [ E X A C T I N G ]
❖ [ A L O O F ]
❖ [ C A R I N G ]
❖ [ C O N F L I C T E D ][/indent]
Seviin is a young woman - still half a girl - very much playing at being more mature, competent, and certain about life than she truly is. A tyro priestess of Oirase, she has dedicated herself to the cultivation and preservation of life at all costs, including that of her own. This dedication is, for the most part, genuine. It is also, however, her method of coping with the darker things in her life. Precisely what those are, she withholds to the point that most would not even guess at them. Most every action that this young Yandese takes is completed with either a light, noncommittal smile or a look of mild (and perhaps smug) disapproval, directed down her nose at those who fall short of her exacting ethical thresholds. She will help you and heal you, but she will judge you and you will know that you have been found wanting. Her ambivalence towards animals - the assiduous avoidance of most contrasted with her clear understanding and empathy towards them - is a further mystery. Yet, beneath this guarded and morally superior facade, she is capable of moments of sweetness, caring, mirth, and unexpected earnestness.

Ultimately, despite appearances, Seviin is a kind soul and will do everything in her power to ensure the survival and (physical) flourishing of her allies and - well, a priestess of her ilk does not necessarily keep [i]friends[/i]. However, she will absolutely not, under [i]any[/i] circumstances, act to harm another sentient being and, if possible, a living creature. She will not eat meat. She will find a use for all that she owns and all that she takes from the land and she will not - directly - say a cruel word to anyone. Certainly, she will never curse either. It is her job to nourish, to save, and to do good works, regardless of the wickedness that thrives around her. This moral code is one that she rigorously adheres to. It is her shield for the weak, the innocent, the preyed-upon, and... for herself.  

[h3][u]C H A R A C T E R	A P P E A R A N C E        	[/u][/h3]
Tall, slim, and graceful, Seviin is the very picture of youthful yasoi beauty though, by Tarlonese standards, she dresses quite modestly.  Long sandy-coloured hair falls in curtains to either side of her face, which is unmarked by the Tetsoi so favoured by southern yasoi. Red lips stand out against pale skin and vivid cerulean eyes. Her clothing is invariably white, sometimes accented with pastel colours in the habit of her holy order and often loose and flowing. To some, it may appear impractical. To a binder of her calibre, its maintenance - while simple - is symbolic and deeply meaningful.

On her person, Seviin carries neither weapon nor armour, though she does have a staff - Aloi'alar, the Mother's Mercy - passed down from her great grandmother, who was a healer of some repute. Any pouches and belts she may have are well hidden or incorporated seamlessly into her outfit. This is, in theory, a rather conservative set of garments but, in practice, there is always just enough skin left showing to pry loose the intentions of those with whom she interacts. When she can get away with it, she prefers to go barefoot, though she will never admit it, of course.

Perhaps the only discordant element of her appearance is the single large fang hanging from her left ear, turned into a piece of jewellery. Nobody but her is quite certain why she wears it or what it stands for, but she is never seen without it.

[h3][u]L A N G U A G E S        	[/u][/h3]
[indent]❖ [ Y A N D E S E ] natively
❖ [ T A N T I A N ] natively
❖ [ C O N S T A N T I A N   Y A S O I ] fluently
❖ [ A V I N C I A N ] semi-fluently
❖ [ R E T A N E S E ] semi-fluently[/indent]
[h3][u]T H E	G I F T        	[/u][/h3] [i]{unknown), Solocaster[/i]

❖ [color=FFD700][ M A G N E T I C ][/color] 0		❖ [color=00FF00][ A T O M I C ][/color] 0
❖ [color=FF8C00][ A R C A N E ][/color] 2		❖ [color=800000][ B L O O D ][/color] 5
❖ [color=FF0000][ B I N D I N G ][/color] (5)		❖ [color=FFFFF0][ T E M P O R A L ][/color] 3
❖ [color=BA55D3] C H E M I C A L ][/color] 4		❖ [color=000000][ D A R K ][/color] 0
❖ [color=1E90FF][ K I N E T I C ][/color] 2		❖ [color=808080][ C O M M A N D ][/color] 0

Seviin is trained in the Gift as are all young yasoi and is extremely capable in its use, having completed her first year of studies at Tantas'iilwash Academy. However, she absolutely refuses to use it in a capacity that will harm other sapient beings, and prefers not to harm any living thing at all. All of her spellcraft is dedicated to this pursuit, with her abilities in Arcane used to create light, warmth, and cauterize wounds, her Chemical abilities to invigorate, empower, and transmute, and her Temporal to reverse negative effects, buy allies more time, and facilitate movement. In Tarlonese culture, no distinction is made between Binding and Blood magics, and these are used, of course, to heal and protect.

Of course, there is more - there is the thing that disturbs her so, but it is not something that she will ever talk about, as if she might someday disperse it into oblivion through sheer force of will.

[h3][u]B A C K G R O U N D        	[/u][/h3]
There is much to say about Seviin's origins and how she came to be here. It was as a seeker of asylum, however, for she could not countenance her people's horrid war against the humans of Ai Medda and their own kin in Constantia. Before that, she was a priestess, and much loved and celebrated by her family and community, if not seen as a touch odd and overzealous, perhaps. Maybe she wasn't always so rigid, so awkward, and so defensively sanctimonious. Maybe she's running from something else. Her past is not something that she speaks very much about, and so it shall not be spoken of here.

[h3][u]M O T I V A T I O N        	[/u][/h3]
Seviin is someone who lives by an absolute moral code and will not contravene it for anything. As Tantiac moved to effectively annex her country and the entirety of Tarlon, sometimes by outright force, she found herself called upon to act as an instrument of the empire in an expansionist war that she did not agree with. Hence, with the Trials beginning, she volunteered to represent her school before promptly defecting and seeking asylum. In the end, she is someone who clings to her moral code, who clings to a fairly narrow and easily definable idea of being 'good' in an uncertain world where the terrain shifts constantly around her and such broad concepts as 'right' and 'wrong' aren't necessarily so clearly evident.

[h3][u]I N V E N T O R Y        	[/u][/h3]
Seviin carries her robes, her staff: Aloi'alan, pouches of reagents, and some local currency on her. As a refugee, she does not own very much. Most of her food and necessities, she synthesizes using blood magic.

[h3][u]S T R E N G T H S  &  S K I L L S       	[/u][/h3]
[indent]❖ [ I M M U N E   T O   D I S R U P T I O N ]
❖ [ A G I L E ]
❖ [ B R A V E ]
❖ [ L E A R N E D ]
❖ [ R E S O U R C E F U L ] [/indent]
Seviin is, despite all of her purposeful lightness and elegance, someone who knows how to handle herself when it really comes down to it. She possesses an encyclopedic knowledge of the humanoid body, materials science, and basic physics, and will come to the aid of any ally in need regardless of her personal feelings. She is excellent at compartmentalizing, retaining a professional distance, and will not hesitate to speak truth to power.

[h3][u]W E A K N E S S E S  &  F L A W S        	[/u][/h3]
[indent]❖ [ R I G I D ]
❖ [ S A N C T I M O N I O U S ]
❖ [ P A C I F I S T I C ]
❖ [ M I S A N T H R O P I C ]
❖ [ I M M U N E   T O   M A N A   I N T E R A C T I O N S ] [/indent]
With her attitude, Seviin is unlikely to make any friends and she tells herself that it's alright, that it doesn't matter and that she doesn't need them. As with many matters, she is lying to herself. Her entire identity is an unstable thing now, built upon pillars of sand. Her refusal to do any direct harm, while commendable in some respects, can make her a liability when it comes to outright combat.

[h3][u]M I S C E L L A N E O U S        	[/u][/h3]
Colour Code: [color=F0FFF0]F0FFF0[/color][/hider]