Characters will be fresh WARDEN graduates and should be around the same age range (20-22)
This RP is intended to be fairly small, and revolves around a group of close knit characters
Your character doesn't necessarily need to be friends with everyone and character conflicts is nice, but they definitely shouldn't be antagonizing towards everyone either. They did after all agree to all go on a trip together.
I don't need things to be paragraphs upon paragraphs long, quality is key!
Note when it comes to choosing whether your character is 2nd or 3rd class. Most characters should be 3rd Class. Imagine WARDEN 2nd Class as basically the equivalent of Magna cum laude or otherwise the top of their graduating class
W A R D E N
Image goes here
NAME AGE | HEIGHT | WARDEN CLASS (2nd or 3rd)
A P P E R A N C E
Any extra details regarding their appearance that a picture might not show.
P E R S O N A L I T Y
The character's outlook on life and general disposition.
B A C K G R O U N D
A short bit about their story, where do they come from, how does their history reflect what they have become- if applicable. Maybe their family are notable in the military/political spheres, maybe they did exceedingly well or terribly at the academy. This doesn't need to be extensive or exhaustive, just a few paragraphs about the character. Remember that they've spent the last 10 years training in a military academy.
C O M B A T
Combat Class: The character's WARDEN combat specialization. While WARDENS each use their own unique style, they generally fall into one or two broad combat categories for the purposes of training. Sample WARDEN combat classes can be found in the WARDENS section of the Compendium. If you feel none of those fit, feel free to make your own.
Combat Style: The character's personal combat style. Do they prefer to get up close and personal or like to stick to the back. What weapon's they use and such.
R E L A T I O N S H I P S
Specifically, your character's general impressions/relationships with other player characters. This section can stay blank until characters have been accepted.
(You may need to remove the '-' from the {HR}
[Sub][b][color=darkgray]W A R D E N[/color] [/b][/sub] [hr-] [Color=lightgray] [center]Image goes here
NAME AGE | HEIGHT | WARDEN CLASS(2nd or 3rd)[/center]
[Sub][b][color=darkgray] A P P E R A N C E [/color] [/b][/sub] [hr-] [I][indent]Any extra details regarding their appearance that a picture might not show. [/indent][/I]
[Sub][b][color=darkgray] P E R S O N A L I T Y [/color] [/b][/sub] [hr-] [I][indent]The character's outlook on life and general disposition. [/indent][/I]
[Sub][b][color=darkgray] B A C K G R O U N D [/color] [/b][/sub] [hr-] [I][Indent] A short bit about their story, where do they come from, how does their history reflect what they have become- if applicable. Maybe their family are notable in the military/political spheres, maybe they did exceedingly well or terribly at the academy. This doesn't need to be extensive or exhaustive, just a few paragraphs about the character. Remember that they've spent the last 10 years training in a military academy. [/indent][/I]
[Sub][b][color=darkgray] C O M B A T [/color] [/b][/sub] [hr-] [I][indent] [u]Combat Class:[/u] The character's WARDEN combat classification. While WARDENS each use their own unique style, they generally fall into one or two broad combat categories for the purposes of training. Sample WARDEN combat classes can be found in the WARDENS section of the Compendium. If you feel none of those fit, feel free to make your own.
[u]Combat Style:[/u] The character's personal combat style. Do they prefer to get up close and personal or like to stick to the back. What weapon's they use and such.[/indent][/I]
[Sub][b][color=darkgray] R E L A T I O N S H I P S [/color] [/b][/sub] [hr-] [I][indent]Specifically, your character's general impressions/relationships with other player characters. This section can stay blank until characters have been accepted. [/indent][/I] [/Color] [hr-]
Lean and lithe Gerard bears the appearance of one who is used to continuous physical exertion, without some of the bulk of his fellow WARDENs. His physique is in excellent shape, and his frame is akin to what might be expected of an athlete or career soldier. His olive skin is relatively unscarred and his jet black hair is meticulously maintained. Gerard generally wears well fitted, fashionable options, mirroring the style of most Orestian socialites, and regularly chooses style and fashion over comfort and practicality. A pair of crystal lens spectacles obscure light hazel eyes.
P E R S O N A L I T Y
Arrogant, cocky, self-centered, vain, these are all words used to describe Gerard, all with the air of a man constantly reminding others that "Your life is in my hands". Snarky and flippant, Gerard is a casually confident and self-assured individual, and while usually not the most outspoken, has a dim view towards cowardice. His casual demeanor is often mistaken for a lack of care and his aforementioned traits and often haughty attitude does little to change the opinions of others. He has a penchant for sarcasm, throwing snide jokes and platitudes around whenever he sees fit like a flip of a coin, but is able to take things seriously when needed.
Not quite as vapid and self centered as he portrays himself- though still some measure of each- Gerard does possesses a well developed moral compass, and is strongly loyal to those he cares about, though his tone and callousness might suggest otherwise. He's the first to appear and patch up an injured comrade's wounds, while still managing to make a quip or remark at their expense. He thoroughly enjoys creature comforts, but in dire situations will put the well-being and needs of others above his own- complaining about it the whole while. He cares deeply about those he would consider 'his own', in his own way of course, though one will rarely hear him admit such in open conversation.
B A C K G R O U N D
A Rassvet native, Gerard comes from what can only be known as 'old money'. His parents hold title, and are of vaguely noble birth, holding a ranking somewhere in the hundredths for the purposes of royal succession. The Biserus family are most well known for their established name as heads of one of the premier arms manufacturers in Rassvet, Biserus Forgeworks, producing everything from small arms to vehicles for the Rassvet military. While the Forgeworks itself is based out of the Aporia near the west coast, Gerard and his family live in the Capitol city of Orestia. Having spent his childhood in the lap of luxury, Gerard might've been destined for life as yet another rich, vaguely noble socialite had he not met the WARDEN criteria on the national survey. Somewhat unwillingly ripped from his rich and cushy life, Gerard and hundreds of others like himself, found themselves at the Citadel, their lives changing as they knew it as they began their years long service and training in the Rassvet military.
Adjusting to military life from such a height was a bit of a shock for Gerard, and he spent his first few years struggling to adjust to the strict regimen of the WARDENs. While his grades were always excellent, he took poorly to physical training, not hitting his stride until a few years in. It took several years, but eventually Gerard was broken down and reforged into something more proper for an aspiring soldier- though his attitude never really changed for the better, if anything his improved prowess made him even more arrogant, as he now had the bite to match his bark. His excellent control over mist and academic knowledge made Gerard a shoe in for the more magical disciplines of the WARDENs, and his aptitude with supportive magic cemented his role in the WARDENs support and battlemage corps.
Gerard built up a reputation for being a bit hot and cold- those that he liked, knew he liked them, and those he didn't like were also very aware of his disdain. Not quite a bully, but not above putting others in their perceived place either, Gerard surprisingly found himself getting along a lot better with what his family would consider 'common folk'. What they lacked in social disposition, they often made up in honesty, and Gerard found that refreshing when compared to the more politically minded students, whom he could never be sure if they were actually friendly, or just merely trying to gain ties to his family's businesses.
War on the horizon seemed to change something within Gerard, with the threat of Vangar looming over their shoulders, he seemed to throw himself wholeheartedly into his training and studies. Whether it was for nationalistic pride or just a desire to survive the coming days remains to be seen. In his last few years of training, Gerard seemed to leap and bound through the rankings, though still didn't quite make the cut for WARDEN 2nd Class.
Graduation came and went, and Gerard was now officially a WARDEN. The years of training had done a number to their training class, but they'd survived. With the business of war at hand, Gerard was all too happy for a break, and decided to join what few friends he made on one last trip together across the country, while they were all still whole.
C O M B A T
Combat Class: Combat Support/Battlemage
Combat Style: Though lacking in bedside manner, Gerard joins his team in combat as a dedicated Combat Healer. A deep capacity to manipulate mist- competing with even some dedicated battlemages, Gerard is capable of tending to even the most grievous wounds in the field, treating wounds with flashes of blue, healing flames. Short of regenerating lost limbs, Gerard is capable of tending to most common battlefield injuries, though more serious wounds require time and effort that a rapidly shifting battlefield might not allow.
In direct combat, while capable of manipulating most common low-level elemental powers, Gerard's preferred method of fighting revolves around using telekinesis to move and throw objects- and occasionally people- around. The concept is simple, yet effective, and consists of battering foes with all manner of heavy objects. Preferring to save a vast majority of his Mist capacity for healing, Gerard eschews sheer force for a more pragmatic and efficient use of magic, often taking to a fight with a pair of heavy, oversized gauntlets, or a barrage of tungsten pellets. Using his gauntlets to strike from intermediate distances, Gerard moves fast and strikes like a boxer, pummeling his foes with a cascade of lightning fast jabs with a pair of 50 pound slabs of metal.
R E L A T I O N S H I P S
Specifically, your character's general impressions/relationships with other player characters. This section can stay blank until characters have been accepted.
Lean build. Prefers to wear armor-lined long coats over professional wear or tactical gear whenever at all possible.
P E R S O N A L I T Y
Reserved and stoic, Kalina is somewhat socially maladjusted from being raised among active combat personnel her entire life before she entered the WARDEN academy. She possesses little understanding of social norms or civilian culture, having grown up focusing on fighting and soldiering first and foremost.
Still, Kalina does her best to work with her fellow WARDEN members and help them with what they need, even if she doesn’t understand how certain individuals think or act at times.
Tends to speak in a neutral tone most of the time, emoting only very rarely.
B A C K G R O U N D
The girl who would become Kalina Kovalic was born in a minor border nation, orphaned practically from birth by Vangar expansionism. Her town was conquered in less than a day, her parents either killed or scattered to the winds. Had a traveling mercenary troupe not found her, she would have died of exposure. Mylo Kovalic, leader of Mylo's Marauders, found the girl and raised her as his own.
The Marauders spent years finding their livelihood being choked out, given that they refused to work for Vangar. Every military force they signed up with was defeated by the Empire in short order, and they eventually fled to Rassvet as refugees, albeit much reduced in number. The moment they arrived in-country, Mylo signed the Marauders up as Rassvet auxiliaries. They were redeployed back to the front almost immediately, though not without Mylo watching his little girl who had just turned of qualifying age be press-ganged into the WARDEN academy. For her part, Kalina was eager to join. She had spent the entirety of her life so far powerless waiting for her adoptive family to return from battle constantly, and wished for nothing more than to be able to join them eventually. Mylo was slightly more reluctant, but eventually accepted that she was bound for the battlefield one day. And where else would she receive the best training and care possible?
Ten years passed. Kalina was found to be an expert combatant and pilot on par with a Second Class, but her leadership and tactical assessments proved to be lacking. As it stood, she still passed for Third Class without issue, with the expectation of being able to attempt to qualify for Second in the future with further experience in the field.
Graudation came, and the surviving Marauders all managed to wrangle enough leave away from the front lines to attend, Kalina's father included. When the few friends she'd made during her time at the academy suggested one last hurrah before being deployed to the front, Kalina could only shrug and go along with them. It didn't particularly matter to her what they did until she shipped out, so why not just roll with it and keep them happy?
C O M B A T
Combat Class: Vanguard/Combat Support (Pilot)
Combat Style: Kalina is a frontline gunblade specialist, skilled in the use of an otherwise esoteric weapon. Her sword style is minimalist and efficient, aiming for economy of movement with minimal exaggeration or flourishes in order to close the gap between blade and flesh as quickly as possible, all backed up by the explosive power of a gunblade. She typically wears medium armor, favoring a balance between mobility and protection. Most of her magical ability is dedicated towards empowering her gunblade's cartridges in order to infuse her weapon's strikes with elemental or defensive augments.
In terms of combat support, Kalina is certified to pilot both fixed-wing and VTOL transport aircraft. Her piloting can best be described as moderately psychotic, as every flight with her is geared towards speed and evading enemy fire, even on a leisurely cruise in friendly skies.
R E L A T I O N S H I P S
Gerard: Kalina finds Gerard odd, but she doesn't dislike him. Insults and quips tend to brush off her like water to begin with, and Gerard has displayed enough moments of genuine care over the years that she can't really bring herself to hate him. It'd be easier on everyone if he just stated what he meant instead, though. That said, she had to have it explained to her by someone else that Gerard's been consistently trying to get a rise out of her for years. As to why, Kalina doesn't particularly understand it herself, but at least there's seemingly no malice involved. Good enough for her.
Tony: They're not too close with each other, on account of not speaking one-on-one much, but Kalina is impressed with how well Tony's recovered from his accident. The amount of drive and grit he's shown since then is definitely commendable. Thinks he should've been a shoo-in for Second Class regardless. If he could take out Schneider, he earned it. She's tried to teach him the ammunition trick, but Kalina isn't good at explaining things that come easily to her. That, and it requires more fine control over Mist than he has.
Justice: Justice meets every check mark Kalina has for a good squad leader, and she trusts her implicitly. More than that, she's direct and says what she means. It's a rare quality when a good portion of WARDEN recruits were civilians concerned about politeness and appearances, and Justice is very easy for Kalina to deal with as a result. She also appreciates that Justice explains the jokes she makes to her. She still doesn't get the humor, but Kalina'd never understand them otherwise.
Lance: The two met early on in training, with Kalina dropping a few pointers when she noticed him struggling. Since then, she's continued doing the same, with him reciprocating for social situations she doesn't understand in return. Kalina is rather defensive of Lance when it comes to others disparaging him, believing that if he meets minimum regs, which he does, he isn't deserving of disrespect. WARDEN needs every warm body it can pass for the war effort, and Lance washing out would be a complete waste.
Silje: In a way, the two are polar opposites, but with the same starting point: social incompetence. As it turns out, someone who can't shut up is a good fit with someone who barely emotes or cares to. It's not a complicated relationship: Silje talks, Kalina listens, and occasionally one tries to steer the other back when they go too far. Kalina might be reserved, but she does enjoy being around people to the point where Silje is good company.
Levy: Easily the most confusing person in the squad to Kalina. His insistence on making a nuisance of himself is similar enough to the rest of the team to the point where she's just learned to deal with it, but doing a complete 180 in his personality only in the field just baffles her. Why even bother to put a false face on? Of course, he refused to answer the one time Kalina tried to call him out on it, and has seemed wary of her since. Chalk one up to another social thing she doesn't get.
Lance had been a skinny kid when he was first enrolled. It was hard to put on the muscle that training as a WARDEN demanded, but within the last decade he had managed it. Now he is compactly built, hard muscle everywhere with virtually no excess fat. Even with the nicks and scars carved into his body from training and scraps, he takes pride in his physique as the proof of all of his hard work. He keeps as fit as possible, especially because he is prone to illness. It didn't used to be that way - somewhere along the line he got sick and stayed sick, always running some kind of low level fever if his skin was anything to go by. It's both a warm tan complexion and warm to the touch. Nothing serious though, as he'd say.
Because he is rarely out of uniform, he doesn't put much thought into what he wears during his down time. Most of his clothes are gifts or hand-me-downs anyway. It is quite funny to see him mix some garment a more fashion forward friend gave to him with the most worn out piece of clothing the world has ever seen. He basically just wears whatever makes him happy or catches his interest. He is most commonly seen with his trademark scarf, embroidered with the initials Z.B.
P E R S O N A L I T Y
Loyalty is the basis of Lance's personality. He was raised believing how important it was to obey one's parents, their superiors, and their God. The thought of betraying someone's trust doesn't even cross his mind, and on the rare chance he does it the guilt eats away at him until he usually ends up confessing. Because of this, Lance makes for a good friend and is very easy to get along with. He's always willing to lend a hand, hear someone out, or join in on a fun time.
He's fine with banter and can take a good ribbing. He tries not to let anything bother him, keeping strong both for himself and others. He doesn't often talk about his family, and though some jabs at his character hurt more than others he is quick to forgive... if not forget. His emotions are easy to read on his face, he definitely wears his heart on his sleeve. When he's in a good mood he loves to share it, but when he's feeling down or conflicted, he deflects.
Lance has come to be known as hard working and reliable. Someone who always puts others before himself. The kind of person you can lean on if you need to, very literally; he's lent his shoulder for people to cry on and bodily dragged fellow drunken WARDENs back to the barracks plenty of times. He isn't touchy per se, but he appreciates a friendly touch and will happily reciprocate whether its a hug or one of his squadmates dragging him to the sparring ring to kick his ass again.
Perhaps not so surprisingly given his upbringing, but he is quite chaste. He travels to one of the Citadel's cathedrals once a week, head down, intense, introspective and quietly talking with himself. This is a routine he takes very seriously. Sometimes he struggles with his own identity, although this is a side of himself he would be mortified to let anyone else in on. He especially doesn't want anyone to find out just how afraid he is of being deployed for real.
B A C K G R O U N D
The Bennett family have a proud history. Rassvet natives dedicated to service - even before the Rassvet-Vangar Conflict began. Sons and daughters of the lineage had always been devout members of the Order of the Dawn, inquisitors from a long line of inquisitors. The current family patriarch, Jophiel Bennett, had been one of a handful of prolific High Inquisitors in Fazra before being forced to retire due to a leg injury. He and his wife Miranda returned to Rassvet to the Bennett estate, in the pretty fishing village of Sheldock on the coast, where they raised their four sons.
The eldest son Michael was put on a high pedestal, groomed to be the next Bennett inquisitor before he could even talk which kept him from WARDEN life. The second son Lance however was sure to be scooped up by the WARDENs as soon as he was of age to be tested given his innate capabilities. This too was a source of pride for the family. The youngest son Laramie would eventually go on to show a sense for magic unlike any other. The only anomaly was the middle son Zadkiel, who seemed to have inherited none of the prestige of the family name and had little to no aptitude for magic. It was normal for talent to skip a child or two, so while Zak did not receive any of the special training or attention of his father, he was treated with love all the same.
A few weeks after Lance's tenth birthday, he was selected to join WARDEN just as many predicted. The boy was excited, looking forward to it. In celebration, the boy's father let the eldest three brothers take their boat out for some quality time together before they split up - as Michael would soon be leaving as well, traveling to Fazra to complete his initiation into the Order. Lunches and fishing poles packed, the day was a blur of warmth and happiness. It was on their way back that tragedy struck. As dusk was settling over the water, one of the boys rocked the boat a little too hard, or shoved each other just a little too roughly, and Lance was thrown overboard. Given that the family was well accustomed to the water, the remaining brothers waited for Lance to come back up. He never did. Frantically, Michael and Zak dove in to try and find him, but the waters were dark by then. It was late into the night when they gave up, unable to locate their brother. Explaining what happened to their father was most frightening thing the boys had ever done.
Jophiel was a stern, proud man who took his and his family's image very seriously. He was unwilling to admit that Lance, WARDEN hopeful and prodigal son, had died on his watch; not to himself or anyone else. He couldn't face that shame and disappointment.
What followed was a devious scheme un-befitting a Dawn inquisitor. One of his sons had drowned that day, but it wasn't Lance - it was Zadkiel. That's what he convinced the world of. Lance and Zadkiel were close in age, Zak only one year younger, and with the same red hair and tanned skin they were commonly confused with each other. If one hadn't been treated so much more handsomely than the other, they could have been twins. Zadkiel was not on board for this plan, but as a child there was not much he could do. He was pressed into obedience and sworn to silence. The Bennett family mourned "Zadkiel" for a little while, and prepared "Lance" to be sent to the Citadel.
After the WARDENs came to collect him, they were suspicious of "Lance's" sudden drop in aptitude. The lie was maintained with the explanation that his grief over his brother was deeply affecting him. This was true, as the boy barely had time to process everything that had happened to himself and his brother. He never would have made the cut for WARDEN under normal circumstances, so the training was absolutely grueling. Over time it got harder and harder to make up excuses, so the only thing "Lance" could do was train harder and harder. He gained a reputation as a workhorse, and though he was consistently in the lowest percentile of his class, he managed to remain "WARDEN material."
The first few years he hated every minute of it, but the crushing guilt he would feel if he deserted stopped him from doing so. The only people who knew the truth of his situation were himself, his father, and his older brother. Aggressive gaslighting on Jophiel's part managed to convince even his mother that he was, and had always been, Lance. The family never spoke of the incident, so their youngest son grew up never knowing there had been a fourth brother at all. If he left service, it would completely destroy his relationship with his family. If he confessed the truth, it would stain the family's image. More than that though, if he refused to carry this name then Lance would really be gone forever.
So he swallowed his grief, his discomfort, everything that told him this was wrong. He suffered the brutal lifestyle of future WARDENs, endured the ridicule of better trainees, learned to live with the mistburn and tried not to develop an abusive habit with the burn reducing drugs. As a kid he'd hated his old fashioned, traditional name, but while lying awake after training he would give nearly anything to hear someone call him by it.
When graduation came, he'd had to scurry off and find somewhere private to let himself be emotional. The certificate said Lance Bennett, like he knew it would. It had "his" birth date. The real Lance would have been twenty now, while the young man holding the paper was nineteen. Staring at the certificate brought about such a weird, volatile mix of emotions. He was bitter, he was proud. He had nearly burnt a hole through the thing before someone came to find him.
He is glad for the road trip, jumping at the chance to join. He hopes to use it to sort out all his feelings before deployment. If nothing else he is determined to stay alive during the conflict so he can finally come clean after serving his term, put Lance to rest and die as his own man - hopefully far into the future.
C O M B A T
Combat Class: Vanguard, situational Ranger
Combat Style: It was a common joke around the barracks that there should be a WARDEN 4th class solely so that Lance could occupy it. That fact is that Lance is never the best person in the squad at any given thing; he is far from a fighting prodigy and could never cut it as a mage. What he does have are his eyes, his body, tenacity, and the drive to protect himself and others.
In melee he relies on his strength more than anything, having honed himself over the last decade into a human-spear to drive wedges between enemy formations. He is usually first into combat for that reason, to create an opening for others to capitalize on. Like every other WARDEN he is proficient with many kinds of weapons, but he prefers pikes and a trusty sword most of all... when he's not using firearms that is, which he quite good with. Though Lance is no slouch with melee weaponry (a decade of training will make sure of that), he is much better with a rifle or handgun - especially high-precision, long-range rifles. Despite that, he is relegated to the front line because his difficulties with sensing and channeling the Mist make it difficult for him to operate as a true independent ranger. Give him a spotter or a partner though, and he makes an efficient and deadly sniper.
Magic was never Lance's strong suit. His affinity with the Mist is very low, and he suffers from mistburn so often it might as well be constant. To both cover up his symptoms and make himself seem at least a little competent, Lance focused on learning a simple kind of magic and learning it well: elemental control over fire. Needless to say using magic is a last resort for him in combat. His "signature" spell is the halo of flames, a ring of fire summoned above or around him that flings embers outward from it.
Finally, over his WARDEN uniform he wears a light armor modeled after the likes of the Order of the Dawn's inquisitors but bearing the Bennett family crest. It's imbued with blessings and isn't hard to move around in at all. At one point he hated the armor, but after several cuts and scratches and a friendly paint job, he came to like it well enough; it does give him a little more protection after all.
R E L A T I O N S H I P S
Specifically, your character's general impressions/relationships with other player characters. This section can stay blank until characters have been accepted.
Justice has a great deal of scars on her body, mostly gained from pushing herself even beyond what basic training had to offer. She's also rather muscular for her size as though she's denser than most people.
P E R S O N A L I T Y
Justice could best be described as a grim and sardonic delinquent. While she's serious when her superiors are watching, she's a bit of a rabble rouser when left alone. She'll mostly jokingly invite fights and threaten people. Her filter doesn't exist, so long as a CO isn't watching.
She isn't really the type to lie, even if it was a white lie. If someone wounded asks her if it's bad, she'll reply with "no shit" before attempting first aid. If she gets in trouble, she'll state her exact thought process that lead to it.
Surprisingly, Justice has a mind for tactics and is quite a diligent leader. She looks after those around her. Though, she is willing to put them in a headlock if they get on her nerves. Perhaps indomitable is a better word to describe her. Be it out of spite, anger, or some desire to prove something, she's not one to give up or stop moving.
B A C K G R O U N D
Being the descendant of war heroes, one would expect Justice to be emblematic of a soldier. Perhaps her attitude would be better if any of them had been alive when she was born. Justice's childhood was that of nausea and illness. Ever since she could remember, she felt the Mist. Through it, she felt both the world around her and every movement of her own innards.
When the survey had reached Justice, what they had found was a desperate and sickly child. Someone who felt only anger at the way she was forced to live.
Well, the military could fix her attitude. She'd probably grow out of her weakness. What they wanted was her aptitude.
They were right. The hellish training was kept her mind off of the Mist around her. She climbed ropes until they were dyed red. She ran until she vomited and collapsed. She filled her mind with as many handbooks that she could. It kept her mind off of what she felt from the world around her. Her desperation to dull her senses drove her beyond most.
Or maybe it was the genes passed from war hero to war hero that pushed her ahead of her peers. It would have made sense. She pushed those around her to match her dangerous pace. If someone was lagging behind, she would get behind them and push them forwards. Though, Justice would never acknowledge her familial lineage. She refused the last name of heroes she had never met.
Either way, she graduated as a 2nd class ranger. Her skills suited it, after all. What she had learned was how to control and utilize her perception. Information was key on the battlefield. There was nothing better than someone who could sense the world around them.
C O M B A T
Combat Class: Ranger/Combat Support (Radar)
Combat Style: Justice's class was decided nearly entirely based on how she perceives the Astral Mist. She feels the mist as an extension of herself: a second skin, so to speak. This skin allows her to have a powerful perception of what's nearby. To detect what's further away, she can manipulate the mist in a simpler way. She can either release meaningless pulses of magic that allow her to feel a wide area or she can release nearly undetectable beams of magic that allow her to, given enough time, detect a large area around her. This perception comes with an important caveat: she can't wear armour or else she can't feel the weave.
This also allows her to be skilled at stealth. Her magic can alter forms of detection. So long as she is aware of it, she can use her magic to counter typical radars, LIDAR, and forms of magical detection. Though, she can't do a thing to security cameras.
Justice is especially adept at CQC and the usage of all sorts of weaponry. Though, she isn't graceful and skilled. She's more of a violent brute willing to shatter her fists on someone's skull while choking another person out with her legs. In fact, the reason why she's skilled in so many weapons is because she kept on breaking them. When she isn't choking someone out, she's usually off to build traps or design ambushes.
To cover for her lack of armour, she's quite adept at using small-scale barrier magic. Her affinity for the Mist allows for small barriers to be formed in response to attacks. However, this does mean that it's an imperfect defence. High-powered shots typical of cracking armour would breach her barriers unless she prepares for them. In addition, she can be overwhelmed by long-fights since her defence is directly linked to her becoming mistburnt. She's much better not being shot at.
R E L A T I O N S H I P S
Gerard: While their relationship is one of general respect, Justice doesn't exactly get along with Gerard for one reason: their snark comes from completely opposite places. While Gerard is snide and egotistical, Justice is choleric and twisted; she'd sooner put him in in the walls of Jericho than acknowledge remarks that wouls inflate his ego. Her immediate opinion of Gerard has mellowed out now that they've graduated--especially because she can hang her rank above his should the need arise.
Kalina: Justice is acutely aware of Kalina's struggles with normalcy. In that way, Justice is an odd sort of rock for her: she's equally as grim and maladjusted as the mercenaries who raised Kalina. She thinks of Kalina as a good squad member. She does her job. Kalina is one of two people in the squad she won't often rib. Surprisingly, Kalina's bat-out-of-hell flight style doesn't bother Justice. She already lived a life of sensory hell.
Lance: Justice has appreciation for Lance. On the squad member front, he's about everything you want from a man with little talent. He's also the person who she likes the most on the squad solely for the reason that he had a significant amount of ranger training. Lance is the other person on the squad she won't often rib. He just doesn't react in entertaining ways. On the other hand, his chaste nature is an easy target for someone willing to put their squadmates into a headlock.
Tony: If Tony wasn't in her squad, the two of them would probably get along being maladjusted soldiers. Unfortunately, Justice has the wear the role of an authority figure to a man who clearly dislikes authority. She considers him a bit exhausting to deal with and will openly invite him to fight when he gets snippy. Thankfully, Justice's disregard for rules when her superiors aren't watching her has allowed for a mutual peace with Tony.
Silje: Silje makes Tony look like a spa treatment. Having a friend who's saccharine is something that would annoy Justice, but she could handle it. Having a subordinate who can space out during live-fire exercises is significantly worse. Thankfully, routine training has made a soldier out of her. Out of all of her squad members, Silje is the one that requires most of Justice's attention.
6'2 and with an athlete's build, dark-blonde hair and a slight madman's grin, Tony definitely cuts a figure but typically, if given the excuse, will take himself as far out of uniform as possible. In this capacity, anywhere outside of the citadel, he tends to adopt a hick's sensibility in fashion with lots of simple outdoor work clothing.
P E R S O N A L I T Y
Tony, always Tony and never Antonio, has always been a troublemaker in the academy -- he was one of those that did not like being ripped away from family and sent to a military school at the tender age of 10. Left alone and bored, he will figure out ways to create a problem and has never been one to take caution into account. Nonetheless, he had a powerful connection with the mist and was being nursed along for his potential with the expectation that he'd 'straighten out.'
That was before a training accident and traumatic brain injury that left him with a physical scar, some psychological ones that have to do with his loss of ability with Mist. Since then, he's spent a lot of time trying to recover his abilities with the Mist and stay in WARDEN training.
Beyond relearning to use Mist, side effects after the injury include the occasional outburst out of nowhere or the occasional need for some sort of anesthetic for a whanging migraine or other neurological effect of the injury. Despite the erratic behavior at times, he's known in the Citadel as a guy to have 'on' the 'team' because he's good in a fight, be it a unit training exercise or brawl. On the other hand, Tony has made a game out of malicious compliance, passive aggressiveness (beats the other kind, but still) and sarcasm, such as when he will assume the role of the World's Worst Manservant on a fieldex where a fool is leading or in a social context when someone obnoxious is talking to him and it's not quite 'hand grenade trick' territory. The term, "Mutinous sheepfucker" has been used in reference to Tony, something that he finds absolutely hilarious when someone actually dares to say it to his face.
Tony's attitude toward authority and authority figures is skeptical, to say the least. Given his druthers, he'd be working in his Uncle Rudy's garage, and if not for the ability to use Mist, that's where he'd be. He doesn't forget it and has a casual disdain for the more rigid types that he runs into -- in Tony's mind, you don't get anywhere playing by the rules, but you can get creative and reinvent the game.
B A C K G R O U N D
Tony's family have always been hinterland mountain sheep farmers and yeomen in Rassvet, unremarkable except in that they endure, much like the common clay of the land and his father Hugo managed to make a living for himself and his family in cheese production and organizing the local cheese producers into a cooperative that then marketed itself. As a result, Vindish Blue is one of the most sought after cheeses, internationally, with a trademark on the brand and traditional recipes are guarded jealously. Subsequent ventures into cooperative farming yielded success in mushroom farming and even some distilling. Tony's childhood, prior to assessment, was absolutely one of bumming around the countryside, playing in farms, fields and forests. It was a bucolic sort of existence in a prosperous rural hinterland of Rassvet.
Tony, however, was assessed early and bundled into WARDEN training with an eye toward his potential. He had a strong connection with the Mist and was a physical specimen, a combination that was eyed as intriguing and aimed for great things, and was proving to be an intuitive learner.
Regrettably, he suffered a particularly debilitating training injury at about age 15 that resulted in neurological damage. While Tony came back physically, his use of Mist changed entirely and he lost at least a couple of years of knowledge and training. He managed to 'limp' through the rest of WARDEN training where he excelled physically but encountered blocks in his ability to use Mist.
His grades and assessments all suffered in the course of the affair -- he became more erratic though his work was quality, his focus and mood were all over the place. He had a considerable struggle to get himself back into the mental and physical shape to continue and he had to do whatever it took to make the instructors not write him off. Something kept him hanging on grimly -- his family was among those caught in the Vangar occupation that happened at the beginning of the conflict. His disciplinary record also shows some erratic moments; strange moods that are usually co-morbid with a terrible migraine, one of the aftereffects of his neurological damage. Always boisterous and loud, he subsequent obtained a reputation as a bit of a brawler, willing to get into a scrap. What ends with a night in a holding tank in civilization is considered fair dinkum in the field where 'antics' are called 'tactics.'
Tony is a natural at the Vanguard role, but also continued as a 'self-study' during those times when trying to rehab from his injuries which included motor-skill oriented athletic pursuits, like Parkour. Given lots of extra time to convalesce from his injuries, he actually spent time in the books and trying to regain his abilities with Mist, which included all kinds of meditative therapy and participating in scientific experiments with Mist that are routinely conducted at the Citadel anyway. The gain in skills, experience and concentration allowed him to reconnect to the mist, but it's different now. Still, it's there and that what matters is that he managed to squeak by the minimum requirement -- well past, physically, marginally on Mist capabilities.
It's been more than a year since his last brawl with other students and he spent a month in confinement, bread and water while the other guy spent three in a cast for his monteggia fracture -- to be fair, the idiot was trying to choke Tony out to prove some point, and Tony just 'surged,' hard.
While it was understandable that he'd do whatever it took in that situation, the incident hangs over him because that guy, Carl Schneider, was the top vanguard in the senior class and taking him out sort of put the final nail on the coffin in the eyes of the Citadel. It is safe to say that Tony was once a star student and then became essentially a failure of his potential in the eyes of the Citadel.
He's bound for Task Force 254, a unit being formed for the express purpose of moving behind Vangar lines in the long term to provide technical military assistance, leadership, intelligence, organization and direct action capabilities for guerrillas behind the lines...and part of those lines are home territory for him - he knows the people, he knows the terrain. While behind the lines stuff is often class 1 or class 2 work, they're stretched and the idea is to create a force multiplier out of Wardens that don't fit in but can still contribute. He's expected to be good in that sort of role, but that is a future with a very short expiration date if things go wrong.
The thing is, Tony was expected not to survive his injuries, was not expected to recover enough to graduate and not expected to be able to do a number of things, but there's something there that does not quit.
C O M B A T
Combat Class: Vanguard-ish, but very Guerrilla and ambush-oriented.
Combat Style: Tony's combat style is roughly that of a Vanguard, but he goes lightly on armor and, if given the opportunity, carries plenty of explosives -- which he has a taste for, improvised or otherwise. As classmates in unit exercises can attest, Tony's rigged tripwires onto CS gas canisters and smoke grenades and otherwise has figured out how to build explosive devices with the focus of a teenager given free reign to learn to blow shit up. He's started to use the Mist to create triggers for these booby traps, and camouflaging them with same as a nasty surprise. It is not Tony's way to fight fair, but to find every seam, every fold in the ground, every way he can manage to approach an enemy unseen and take them down before they're even aware.
His melee weapon of choice is either a hammer or axe with a big spiky head, plenty of hooks and an extra long prybar handle. His ancestors were mountain yeomen with halberds, and the choice is actually surprising traditional...except he uses it to rip out windows and doors and to pummel or pry what can be in order to create tactical advantage in addition to hooking people by their armor and pulling them or tripping them with the hooks on and flanges on his weapon.
He's had, like any Warden, extensive familiarization with a lot of different weapon types, but has most experience with the standard issue carbine, but also kind of tends to be the guy that gets saddled with grenade launchers or squad automatics/machineguns because he's big and strong. He's developed a degree of affinity for hipshooting, point shooting, snapshooting and dynamic shooting applications in general. His transitions between weapons, his reloads, draws, and weapon malfunction drills, his transitioning from position to position and his movement in general are one of the bright spots in his student records.
Tony's Mist use has changed. Whatever his neurological damage is, and he is healing, it forced him to relearn things with less native capability than before. It's made him think about and ponder the Mist, and it's allowed him to start creating relationships between particulate matter where none existed before. For example, an attractive relationship between bullet and target, which is one of his most basic ones. Another trick he's learned is the manipulation of light, which came about in a field exercise where a scope took damage and Tony, in frustration, ripped the thing off and used Mist to create a focused optic effect with iron sights that replicated the scope's effects. He can dampen the sound of a weapon or himself in small ways. He has to keep practicing, and is behind his classmates, but the things he has worked on since his injury are smaller but more creative in nature, complex and efficient in their use of Mist. He might not be the powerhouse Silje is, but far less likely to burn from mist. It might well be a mental block from the trauma of his injury, it wasn't like Tony was very cooperative when the headshrinkers and scientists tried to figure out what was 'wrong' with him.
This is all private work he's done with the mist during his 'self study' period, which also includes the integration of mist and tech through these entangling effects, rather than the more common use that Vangar has of simply using Etherium to fuel these things. The Citadel may not be entirely wise to what Tony's been cooking.
R E L A T I O N S H I P S
Gerard - Tony is well known for 'not giving a shit' and will happily skewer people trying to ingratiate themselves to Gerard. The game has gotten to the point where Tony's even played games with frag grenades converted into smokers and similar sophomoric pranks. But nothing stops a bro's business guy pitch cold like thinking a grenade just landed on the table. The relationship started with contempt and never really lost that tone, whatever it has since turned into these days.
Kalina - Kalina's always been a cipher to Tony and Tony is not necessarily a deep conversation person. There is perhaps a bit of understanding, because the Citadel has way too many muckety-mucks with names who have less connection. Tony's headed back home to be a guerrilla, Kalina doesn't even get that luxury. He sees her father's people and he sees what can happen to his own people, and they're out there without him. He's trying to decipher that trick with the ammunition, with an eye to eventually understand how to infuse more than one effect.
Lance - Tony's been in some of the same sickbays as Lance, enough to find that the dude's approach to authority and duty is just a tad over the top for him. The joke is, of course, that Tony was, a lot like Lance, the last guy to be picked for a while and he can respect the grit that comes with being that guy if you are going to continue rather than pack up and leave.
Justice - In many ways, Tony feels his experience at the Citadel is an inverse of Justice's but the same trajectory - used up and spit out by the system. But some things are to be shared, but disaffection with national myths and bullshit military bureaucracy isn't one.
Silje - Silje is interesting, she is unusual and she is absolutely going to melt down at some point and probably kill everything around her. Tony knows one thing - he's gonna run when she shows signs of cracking and going critical. Until then, fun times.
Levy - While they are at, first glance, a mismatch, the truth is that Tony is happy enough to work with Levy, who is known for his underhanded ways which are, objectively, very useful in a tight situation and the fact that the man is useful in a number of less than lethal situations, such as the acquisition and concealment of contraband. Balance that with his disdain of aristocracy as an institution, which sometimes competes in his brain against knowing a few of the toff types and generally being alright with them in some sense. In any case, it's a strange sort of relationship, but Tony seems to get good ideas off the guy as well as a taste of the dopamine he often craves. In a sense, the injury saved him from being overly involved in the antics at the Citadel, but not for a lack of desire.
For better or for worse, Silje doesn't exactly look the part of a super soldier, especially when compared to many of her peers. She's a diminutive girl, easily mistaken for someone a few years younger despite being among the oldest in her friend group. Her hair and skin don't do her any favours either, both so pale they make her look sickly. Needless to say, the sun isn't her friend, and her skin burns easily. Still, her apparent waifishness belies a surprisingly athletic and especially nimble girl, who pulls her weight when needed.
It should also be noted that it's not her paleness or her height — or lack thereof — that people tend to pay attention to the most. Rather, it's her peculiar body language; her gestures and expressions tend to always be a little off, even if you can't pinpoint exactly how or why. Exaggerated, fidgety, too still, using gestures not befitting the situation at all — she's been accused of it all, sometimes even to her face. It doesn't seem to have had much of an impact. At most, it's earned a grin and a thumbs up.
P E R S O N A L I T Y
Silje is difficult to pin down, in mind just as much as on the battlefield. She seems to have a near-constant need to preoccupy herself with something, lest her mind wander off somewhere for extended periods of time. She can space out for hours on end at the worst of times, simply watching the Mist and idly painting a scenery only she can see with its hues.
Needless to say, she gets easily bored, and isn't afraid to voice it. In fact, she's rarely afraid to voice anything — not that you'd likely hear her utter a truly bad word about anyone. Extroverted and excitable, Silje very much enjoys the company of others, even of those that do not share the sentiment. Her behaviour alienated many of her fellow WARDENS during training for reasons she doesn't quite fully understand, and so she is particularly glad for those that did stick around. For them, she's willing to do anything.
While not readily apparent at first, Silje seems to have a somewhat limited, surface-level capacity for certain emotions — as well as understanding them, which can lead to her spurting out situation inappropriate things without any ill will. It is speculated this might be due to a Mist-related injury, but considering her body seems otherwise lacking in telltale signs of Mistburn, it is but a theory at this point. Either way, due to this, Silje harbours a deep-rooted desire to feel things, and goes out of her way to put herself in situations that might provide her with strong emotions. Unfortunately, some familiar examples of this are the fear of death and the exhilaration of a life narrowly spared; the very first things she ever remembers feeling, back when she was discovered wandering the fields alone.
When given the chance to follow them, Silje's whims, freedom, excitement and action are what guide her actions, and whatever caution she does practice seems to be more for the benefit of others around her than for her own sake. After all, while she might have been a loose cannon if left to her own devices, she is a WARDEN, a trained soldier, and she knows how to follow directions.
B A C K G R O U N D
Silje's life as she remembers it began the way it's also likely to end: with an explosion. One noticed by Inquisitors returning from a holy mission of heretic cleansing. Upon investigation, they found a young girl in tattered clothes, clutching onto what appeared to be the remains of a beast of some sort. She was unable to recall who she was or what'd happened, but it was assumed her remote village had been attacked by monsters. Despite the clear remnants of magic lingering in the air, the girl seemed both unharmed and not suffering from signs of Mistburn. Suspecting her of being able to wield the Mist, she was taken, as many other orphan girls before her, to join the Maidens and learn to harness her powers for the good of the Gods.
It turned out she was anything but a Maiden, in any sense of the word. An unruly, wild child who nevertheless seemed to hold immense capacity for magic, the good sisters of the Order did their best to instill in her holy virtues that she then systematically failed to uphold. The peace she enjoyed, while no doubt soothing to many orphans who'd been through hell in their short lives, was unbearable for her. Her escape attempts were many, but only one of them successful. She was twelve at the time, so when she found herself part of the Government's grand survey, she was already two years older than her peers.
As it turned out, WARDEN training fit her much more than work at the Church ever had. She excelled at combat studies, particularly those relating to the use of Mist, and it was clear she would be classified as a Battlemage early on. However, lessons on strategy and the like never quite seemed to stick. So though her magical aptitude was — is — above that of most of her peers, she's far from a 2nd class classification, and is assumed to require direction on the battlefield to reach optimal results for some time to come.
C O M B A T
Combat Class: Battlemage, with some aspects of a Ranger
Combat Style:
In a word, Silje's preferred combat style is destructive. At her truest she is a cannon of magical prowess, primed to be aimed at whatever you no longer want to exist. Of course, wanton destruction is not always the most reasonable of approaches, and so Silje's had to learn to make-do. Her mastery over mist allows her to just as easily take down enemies in more controlled, concentrated bursts of magic from good distance away with whatever elemental flavour she happens to fancy. Sometimes she chooses none, and opts to choke those who get too close with pure, concentrated Mist instead.
Despite being an important target for the enemy, Silje doesn't don very heavy armour, if any at all. Rather, she focuses on being light-weight and nimble, using magic to keep herself from harm's way; be that by propelling herself away from potential attackers, or towards them to deliver an electric shock straight to the heart. Can't kill her if you're dead first! The tricks up her sleeve are aplenty, though despite what the Maidens tried to instill in her, she's never found herself practicing healing or shielding more than necessitated by her studies.
Needless to say, she has a tendency for recklessness that often has her paired with someone more cool-headed and rational in high-stakes combat situations when resources allow for it. She is capable of operating alone however, and has survived many a situation she wasn't expected to.
R E L A T I O N S H I P S
Specifically, your character's general impressions/relationships with other player characters. This section can stay blank until characters have been accepted.
M I S C
- Silje is unable to perceive colour. Whether it's something she was born with or the result of a sustained injury is unknown, but magic seems unable to cure it. As such, some have peculated it to be Mistburn related. Particularly since when it comes to Mist, she does, in fact, perceive it as dim hues in various shades. By harnessing Mist she can then make said colours more vibrant, and upon releasing bursts of it into the monochrome world around her, she can, if for a moment, enjoy an explosion of the most beautiful of colours. And probably intestines, if anyone happened to stand too close.
- While not many of the Order's teachings stuck, Silje does pray from time to time. Whether this is a sincere practice born out of genuine faith or simply a habit that stuck is unknown.
Standing at a meager 145cm (4'9") with a petite, waifish build, one will be wholly justified to assume that Valerie is a young girl who's only a few summers into her adolescence period. Indeed, it may be true depending on one's perspective as it's an established fact that Valerie's growth began to stagnate at around half a decade into her WARDEN education, until eventually, she simply ceased to physically develop, leaving her a grown woman in the body of an adolescent with below-average height, an unfortunate tragedy that she has never quite gotten over.
Furthermore, if someone already knew Valerie from before her enrollment into the Citadel, then they'll be hard-pressed to recognize her current self. Once, she possessed silky hair as dark as a raven's feather, now only bleached gray locks hung from her scalp. Once, the young girl's visage hosted a pair of bright baby blue eyes, now they had mutated into eerie violet irises housing pupils so narrow, they may as well be serpentine slits. All these without even mentioning the "horns" growing from the sides of her skull, in actuality a mutated mass of keratin with horn-like shapes, though they're fortunately benign... so far at least.
In addition, when Valerie engages her mist-fueled personal barrier - with or without the presence of an Aegis device - her body will manifest bio-projections bearing the shape of a halo of thorns above her head and a pair of devilish wings sprouting from her lower back. All of these traits, when combined, gives off the image of a demonic angel (or an angelic demon), earning her the epithet "Nephilim", the offspring born from an unholy union of the divine and the profane. Considering her history, Gaia must've had a twisted sense of humor.
Lastly, when examined under close scrutiny, an observer will be able to see veins with purplish hue underneath Valerie's skin, spread all across her body, including her 'horns'. These very same veins will begin to glow when she uses her Mist-based abilities, the intensity being directly proportional to how far she's exerting herself. On the flipside, they become completely imperceptible in a mistless environment.
As for clothing, Valerie may be many things, but being fussy about fashion isn't one of them. Due to the nature of her powers, the gray-haired WARDEN will wear almost anything as long as it's not harmful to her; a full combat uniform? Sure, casual day-to-day clothes? Fine, a dirty brown rag that'll fit the empire's forced laborers more than a WARDEN? No problem. Really, for Valerie, being rendered Mistless is far more debilitating than a lack of adequate apparel.
P E R S O N A L I T Y
Calm and stoic even under great pressure, Valerie is in someways similar to her fellow WARDEN 2nd Class, Justice, yet distinctly different in other aspects. Unlike the sardonic and rabble-rousing WARDEN, Valerie gives off the image of a maternal figure, preferring to guide with a firm but gentle hand. She's the type to lace her words with some form of sugarcoating if she thinks it'll deliver her message better and consider white lies aren't necessarily always bad, sometimes it's simply not the right time to tell someone the whole truth. Perhaps it's the Maiden in her that never quite left even after all the grueling training, perhaps she has always been predisposed to be this way, regardless, Valerie believes that her methods are as valid as Justice's. After all, one correct answer doesn't always mean all others are wrong.
Often acting as the gentler, more soft-spoken counterpart to the group's de facto squad leader, Valerie serves as the other side of the coin to Justice's drill sergeant-esque approach to leadership. Together, the two serve as the glue that keeps the squad from falling apart, due to petty squabbles or otherwise.
Deep inside, even though Valerie may not even realize it herself, a part of her is motivated by pure, undiluted spite. Spite against the parents who abandoned her, spite against the warmongering empire that forced her homeland to take desperate measures, and most of all, spite against herself and her existence as a whole, a mockery of who she once was, a 'demonic monster' masquerading as a person. Even against everything that life has thrown at her, she'll rise above it all, for the sake of her loved ones. And if she must perish one day, then she'll be sure to unleash the dark divine fury of the Nephilim upon the empire first.
B A C K G R O U N D
An orphan of unknown circumstances, little is known about Valerie's early life other than she was left at the doorstep of a local Maidens of the Mother nunnery at rural Rassvet, the very same cloister that a certain bombastic white-haired girl would find herself in the next few years. As for Valerie, it was rather common for infants unwanted by their parents to be handed over into the care of the church, the lesser of two evils compared to... other alternatives, as such, as far as the brunette knew, the Maidens were her family and the Order her home.
Growing up, Valerie was a child who could be described as a 'good girl'; obedient, diligent, and compassionate, she was a model maiden-to-be, a great contrast to the cloister's resident troublemaker, an explosive - in both figurative and literal sense - girl named Silje. In fact, during their years in the monastery, Valerie would often be assigned to keep watch over the older girl when the nuns were busy. A task that she did without protest, however, despite her best attempts, Silje could never be tamed, even managing to escape after multiple attempts. Such a pair of polar opposites, the notion of the two having a career together was unthinkable, surely a delinquent like Silje would never qualify as a Maiden, unlike herself.
But fate, it seemed, had other plans, one that unraveled when Valerie and Silje were ten and twelve summers old respectively.
As it turned out, the two girls were amongst the hundreds of children qualified to be inducted into the Citadel to temper and shape them into the Rassvet's finest warriors, to become WARDENs. Taken away from what Valerie considered to be her family, she was reluctant at first, but one of the sisters asked her to take care of Silje and told her that after a 'mere' decade, she could return. It was enough to convince the brunette to bear with it, she was doing a good cause, to protect the innocent from the warmongering, genocidal empire. It was her solemn duty...
...only she never truly expected what becoming a WARDEN would demand from her. After several tests, it was discovered that Valerie too held considerable yet unpolished talent at wielding the Mist. Whereas Silje's arcane might projected outward in the form of unleashing elemental barrages like a magical cannon, the opposite was true for Valerie, the brunette's had a knack for using Mist to empower herself and her 'domain', the latter consisting of anything she physically touched via her mist, which manifested in the form of creeping purple vein-like growth.
In practical terms, aside from enhancing her own body well into superhuman territory, she could extend this mist-fueled augmentation to any object she was currently holding, and in most cases, it'd be some form of weapon. Through this ability, she could turn the mundane into magical, pushing them to break their limits; a run-of-the-mill pistol could now fire arcane projectiles, a common steel combat knife into a razor-sharp magical blade capable of cutting through steel with ease, etc. Valerie was ecstatic to discover an aspect of herself that she never knew she had, but over the next half a decade of continuously being subjected to mist-related experiments and exercises, she'd learn that there was a price, there was always a price...
It started subtly at first, an odd lock of white hair here and there, a few tiny specks of violet in her eyes, a minor dull ache on her head, and the strange trend of being physically outgrown by most of her peers, surely all in due course due to the grueling training she had to endure, surely they were nothing more than minor side-effects, nothing that a good night's rest and some medicine wouldn't cure. Oh, how wrong she was.
Before she knew it, years passed, and the... thing facing her from beyond the mirror was supposed to be her reflection. Violet eyes with inhuman pupils, a crown of thorns sprouting from her skull, and locks of bleached gray as if she was a woman well into her senior years, yet juxtaposed against the body of a-... Going by the calendar, she was supposed to be nearing the end of her growth spurt, yet she looked no different than a child in the middle of adolescence, no, not a child, a demon, a monster bearing the facsimile of a person.
Horrified at what she had become, Valerie fell into depression for close to a year, until she decided that enough was enough, she might look like a monster, but it didn't mean she had to act like one. She could still use her powers for good. Fueled by newfound determination, the now-white-haired girl pushed herself to be the very best that she could be, resulting in excellent grades across the board. Even though her body appeared to be stuck from developing further, she found out that she could easily compensate for such mortal limitations with her powers, even surpassing what even the best, but otherwise mundane soldiers could do. As such, when graduation came, being christened as a WARDEN 2nd Class came to no surprise for her.
Now a full-fledged WARDEN after a decade of relentless training, the Nephilim figured she and her peers deserved some respite before they'd be deployed to the frontlines. When the idea came for a short vacation, she wholeheartedly accepted, besides, someone still had to watch over Silje, especially now that the excitable girl could turn a whole block into a smoldering crater, literally.
C O M B A T
Combat Class: Vanguard / Combat Support (Walking Arsenal)
Combat Style:
Taking the form of an HMG-esque weapon longer than she's tall, Haylel is a custom-made armament specifically designed and manufactured to be used by the Nephilim. Unlike normal weapons, Haylel can't function without being infused by Valerie's mistborne power (perhaps aside from using it as a crude bludgeoning stick), but when it is, its true potential is revealed to all. Practically, it's a multi-role magical ranged weapon that can be used for indiscriminate widespread destruction all the way to precision marksmanship. It's as much a mounted machinegun as it is an anti-materiel rifle. Regardless of its current usage, several things remain constant: Haylel fires arcane beam-esque projectiles instead of mundane ballistics and it never needs to be reloaded since it directly feeds off mist infused into it by Valerie to form said projectiles within its meticulously-crafted mechanisms.
Meaning "Lightbringer", Haylel is indeed the bringer of light to all, now whether it's the light of shining hope or divine retribution depends on whether one is on the receiving end of its spinning barrel or not.
Imagine a mighty suit of power armor, everything from its array of weapons to its sturdy armor, then visualize putting all of those properties - weapons, armor, and all - into the figure of a four-foot-something girl. It sounds quite ridiculous at first glance, a hilarious joke even, but no one would be laughing when they found themselves at the receiving end of the Nephilim's unholy wrath. Tis' Valerie in a nutshell, a veritable living, breathing arsenal holding enough firepower to level a city block, with the durability to match. Despite what her diminutive size may suggest, she's no glass cannon, nay, she's a mighty avalanche who’ll roll over her foes in an unstoppable mist-fueled onslaught.
Valerie's mistborne abilities take the form of glowing purple veins that she can command to cover either herself or other objects within her arm's reach. Upon being swarmed, the object is considered to be in her 'domain', within her sphere of influence, these objects can then be subjected to enhancements and modifications, the degree in which is limited by the object's original form.
Offensively, she can turn a kitchen knife into a magical blade capable of slicing through steel or a standard-issue assault rifle into an arcane carbine able to launch photonic projectiles strong enough to penetrate through light combat vehicles.
Defensively, she can augment her own body or any gear she currently wears in the same vein as her weapons, boosting their capabilities beyond their original scope. As such, it doesn't matter whether Valerie is wearing a full combat uniform or tattered rags, as long as she has access to mist, a wise enemy should regard her as if she's wearing a suit of power armor. If Valerie currently has access to an Aegis device, then she can perform a symbiosis with the gadget, conjuring a mighty barrier with robustness that's more than the sum of its parts.
Supportively, Valerie can - technically - exert her influence over a whole vehicle, enhancing them much like her weapons and armor, although it's ill-advised due to the massive constraint the feat will put on her body. If it must be done, the (barely) safe limit is a sports bike or a small car, anything beyond that will most certainly push her into mistburn territory, the degree of which is directly proportional to the size of the affected vehicle.
No matter how Valerie uses her power, one principle remains true, she essentially turns the objects under her mist's influence into an extension of her own body, allowing her to be proficient in using them, regardless of her original proficiency (or lack thereof). For example, though unlikely due to her extensive weapons training as a WARDEN, on the off chance that Valerie encounters a weapon she has no experience in, she can circumvent her lack of skill by exerting her influence upon said weapon.
On the flipside, as with all mistborne powers, caution is always advised. The longer she has to maintain her influence and the larger the object, the more mist she has to manipulate and thus, the more strain she'll have to endure. Mistburn is always a risk even among the best of Wardens and underestimating its dangers is a gross negligence that should never be tolerated.
R E L A T I O N S H I P S
❖ Gerard: A spoiled child in the body of a grown man with hubris so deep, it can fill a whole ocean. That much is fact about the noble socialite-turned-WARDEN, but it's also a fact that behind all that arrogance is a well-meaning loyal friend with a heart of gold... except that gold is covered in many layers of snark. Although Valerie is able to see through the muck for the glimmering pearl within, it'll be many years before Gerard can truly learn to no longer hide his feelings behind a mask of ego, if he ever does. Nevertheless, he's still a WARDEN and an invaluable member of the team. She'll attempt to guide him, but ultimately, the decision to change for the better lies with Gerard himself.
❖ Kalina: In a peculiar way, Kalina reminds her of Silje despite the two being polar opposites on the surface level. Beneath the superficial quirks, Valerie can see that both of them are socially-awkward individuals who're not quite adept at expressing themselves. However, whereas Silje expresses that awkwardness by just pressing every button and hoping for the best, Kalina prefers to not even try pressing any. Still, as long as the golden-eyed woman is content with herself and capable of following orders when the time comes, then there's no reason for her to be something that she's not. Having self-contentment at being who you are, that's a boon that many take for granted, Valerie can definitely say that.
❖ Lance: If Gerard is someone who hides his gentler side behind a self-imposed 'tough' mask to not appear weak, then Lance feels like someone who has several masks of lies nailed onto his face. He tries to be a model soldier; hard-working, loyal, agreeable, and brave, and while all of these traits may be who he actually is, Valerie can't help but feel that there's a certain air of impostor syndrome with the ginger, he desperately tries to prove himself to others because he can't do it to himself. As a former nun trainee (who took her duties seriously, unlike Silje), Valerie often volunteered to assist with Order-related tasks in the Citadel, and several times on a regular basis, she saw Lance in deep prayer. She didn't eavesdrop for obvious reasons, but it'd be a lie to say that she never wondered just what deep, dark secrets this 'model soldier' keeps inside.
❖ Justice: A fellow 2nd Class and the group's de facto leader. Valerie respects Justice for her no-nonsense attitude when the situation calls for it, as she knows that it's actually harder to be at the top of the pecking order than otherwise, still, no one's perfect and as good as Justice is, her quirks might rub some of her subordinates the wrong way, and a weak chain of command is a literal death sentence in combat situations. Therefore, as Justice's 'vice-commander', Valerie tries her best to cover for the dark-haired woman's shortcomings; together, they'll amount to more than the sum of their parts.
❖ Silje: The closest thing to a childhood friend that Valerie has amongst the group, amongst the whole Citadel even. Though Valerie technically arrived first in the monastery, she could barely remember a period in her early life where Silje wasn't in it. Between her arrival only a mere few years later, her attention-grabbing antics, and the fact that Valerie was the (un)fortunate acolyte often assigned to look after the hyperactive girl, despite the latter being older by two years. Valerie has to admit that she at times muse about an alternate timeline where they fail the aptitude test, or barring that, the war and the WARDEN program not existing in the first place. Where would life take them? So many possibilities, but out of those endless paths, reality picked the one where both of them must be soldiers, to fight for the greater good of all, yes, but no one in their right mind would prefer this life over a peaceful one.
❖ Morden: While Valerie respects the Mist-powered Juggernaut's loyalty to his comrades and devotion to his country's cause, she can't help but feel... conflicted. There are no tusks without cracks, nothing is perfect, and while she can look at herself for the price the WARDENs had to pay for their superhuman prowess, she'd mostly be referring to physical effects, while Morden's case is an example of the toll imposed on their minds. All WARDENs received mental conditioning as part of the program, to make them fearless and loyal soldiers, but it might have gone horribly right for Morden. The giant soldier's utter devotion to Rassvet's cause borders on blind loyalty, and Valerie's concerned that if he's ordered to massacre a group of imperial citizens - innocent civilians by all rights - he'll still do so without a shred of hesitation.
M I S C / T R I V I A
❖ Though she tries her best to ignore it nowadays, the fact remains that Valerie has a complex regarding her mutations, and seeing fully-grown men and women (leaning more into the latter), especially those with well-developed physique, always reminds her of what could've been had she never qualified for the WARDEN program in the first place. A keen observer will be able to notice the tell-tale signs of subtle envious stares, especially in situations where people are expected to wear revealing clothing, such as a beach party.
❖ Along with the initial signs of physical mutations, Valerie also began to develop an addiction to Mistburn-suppressant drugs, one that steadily got worse over the years up until she fully "transformed" into her current state. As of now, she can be classified as a high-functioning addict, able to function day-to-day with little to no issues as long as she receives a dose of Astral Reducer every few days. Ignoring this will result in withdrawal symptoms that'll gradually progress from mild annoyances to life-threatening. There’s no permanent cure, only temporary control measures. Valerie is very self-conscious of this affliction, more so than her stagnated growth and 'demonic' traits, and mocking her about it is a foolproof method of burning bridges with her.
❖ During her life in the monastery, the nuns discovered that Valerie has latent musical talents, particularly in singing and playing the piano, though they're never developed further after her recruitment into the WARDEN program.
❖ She has a sweet tooth and her favorite dessert is a slice of mille crepe layered cake.
Morden is nothing short of a mountain on legs. Standing taller than armored Vanguards with a flowing mane of hair that stretches down to his chest, and more muscles in one arm than most people can achieve in decades, he is built like a tank even by WARDEN standards. Cracks and burn marks dot his skin from head to toe, as a side effect of an absurd amount of mist burn that came from his training. Morden’s appearance is otherwise relatively plain, since he doesn’t put a lot of work into his look beyond keeping himself maintained. Though, he does always keep a small pocket-sized case with him, separate from whatever he has in his mist pocket, as a precaution due to the nature of his magic.
P E R S O N A L I T Y
Composed, but not peaceful. Reserved, but not passive. Morden is the eye of the storm, a raging hurricane that holds up the sky and stands veiled by a passing demeanor of calm. Morden’s personality is a study in extremes, he is either the most unassuming person in a room or a presence you can’t hope to ignore. In times of peace, he is a gentle giant who can be seen with the occasional, weary smile on his face and not a word to say. The very definition of serenity. In times of conflict, he is rage incarnate, fury given shape, and wrath made manifest. When Morden expresses an emotion, he expressed all of it, without a clear concept of a social filter.
Towards his fellow WARDENs, Morden is the brother in arms; Loyal to an indomitable fault and commanding respect with an iron will, and his “get behind me” attitude like a decorated general. In Morden’s mind, protecting Rassfet is everything. He is a true believer in the fight against the empire, and will fight and stay unbroken for as long as it takes to save his homeland. His attitude is never anything less than 100 regarding any subject whatsoever, including his own personal well-being. There is no challenge that Morden can back down from, not because he is egotistical, but because he is Morden fucking Garrus. Surrender is not an option to him, and he will hold up the universe for what he believes to be just and true.
Even if he does not survive.
B A C K G R O U N D
Morden can barely remember his time before Rassfet took him in, but he was a refugee from a distant kingdom. His family had come seeking safety from the war, but they didn’t survive. Only an older sibling who is now a faceless memory made it to safety with Morden. After being picked out of a crowd of children for his aptitude for taking in the mist, they quickly began to make a soldier out of Morden. He wasn’t particularly strong, not like the Goliath he is today, and all of his training officers noted that his physical stature was something he had to work around. So, his simple 10 year old mind came up with a solution: Just get stronger.
He started down the path of a Battlemage, learning to develop a tolerance for the mist quickly. Only rather than stay in one lane, he branched into armored combat on top of it. He trained relentlessly for the purpose of growing his strength through magic. The people who trained him helped as much as possible, and pushed him to break past limits. But even they had to stop him countless times. Records show that Morden has been hospitalized over 43 times for coming dangerously close to stage 3 mistburn, and even had to be chained to a hospital bed for a week because of how determined he was to become more powerful.
Someone up the chain seemed to approve of his dedication and diligence to the cause. After all, he’s still here.
An intensive psychological evaluation was conducted, and it was determined that Morden is mentally sound. He simply displays an absurd level of passion for his training and the life of a soldier. It was decided that Morden should be allowed to continue his training, albeit under a bit more supervision. Now that he’s an official WARDEN, Morden has been granted the rank of 3rd Class, but this is not good enough for him. Like Icarus chasing the sun, Morden strives to be the best of the best; He wants to receive the rank of 1st Class, and will not let anything stop him from making his goals a reality.
C O M B A T
Combat Class: Vanguard/Battlemage
Combat Style: Morden channels the mist through his body to boost his physical strength to absurd levels beyond what most people can achieve. His training before now has been impossibly brutal, with the goal of accumulating more physical strength than the average WARDEN of his level, and becoming the resident brick with legs. In regular combat, Morden resorts to melee with his bare hands, or the heaviest infantry weapon that a military budget can buy. Give him the heaviest sword you have and he will put it to good use.
When Morden pulls in the mist, he becomes a monster on the battlefield. Flecks of red energy spark outwards from his body and harden his skin while causing his muscles to grow denser. In simpler terms, he gets even stronger and very, very hard to kill. Bullets from a high caliber rifle will bounce off of Morden like a tin can, and he’ll eat lethal explosions from grenades for breakfast. His enhanced strength matches the best power armor around, allowing Morden to cave a fully armored soldier’s chest in like a battering ram and slam someone through a table in an arm wrestle with it on. Morden has all the benefits of power armor while exploiting the mobility of lightweight infantry.
This also makes Morden even more mobile than some of the quicker scouts in the military, as his strength gives him enough power to run at approximately 40 feet per second. A troop carrier or a tank might outrun him, but enemy soldiers damn sure won’t get away from Morden once he gets going.
R E L A T I O N S H I P S
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