Roslyn is willing to share her attention, knowledge and any expertise with those that need it. She strives to support her friends and family. This makes her a good team player who prefers win-win situations. However, the world doesn't make this possible all the time and she finds herself forced to accept compromises at best. Usually those that are less in her favor.

More observant than some people, Roslyn tries to tune into other people and get a read on them. Deep down she wants to think the best of everyone she meets until proven otherwise. Of course, she knows people make mistakes and should be given one or two chances. This doesn't make her the best judge of character and can lead to being taken advantage of. When something drastic does happen and risks stirring a conflict with another individual, Roslyn will struggle and procrastinate. She's not fond of conflict especially with her friends and family. However, when it comes to standing up for her friends... that's another story. She'll push those anxieties to the side to defend them.

She has strong work ethics born from her youth. She is not frightened to roll up her sleeves and get her hands dirty to get a job done. For her, scratches, bumps, bruises and more are evidence of giving it her all and leaves her with a sense of pride. In something that she's passionate about, her eagerness and joy shine through on her expression.

When it comes to her role in things, she often downplays her importance. She sees herself as a simple brewer's daughter with a noble lineage. Nothing more or less. Roslyn willingly lets others take credit for accomplishments while taking care not to hurt anyone's pride or deflating their worth. It is hard for her not to internalize her feelings as she can be a bit...sensitive to other people's opinions. Especially when it comes to criticism, lacking appreciation, and even approval. Roslyn rarely vocalizes these feelings and even tries to hide them, but she isn't always successful.

Roslyn's education focused primarily on magics that aid her in the brewery. Each dedicated magic served a distinct purpose, though in recent times things had begun to change.

With arcane, her focus was on temperatures. Cryomancy and Pyromancy were ideal to maintain the best temperature for fire's coals while the chemical reactions stirred and settled in the barrels. Some times she had to heat metal for it to be hammered back or extend the light of a candle to work long into the night. However, she has dabbled in illusion side of things. Mainly to make herself 'disappear'. It was a trick that stemmed from her childhood and let her melt into the background, escaping unwanted pressure for a short time.

Her chemical studies allowed her to observe and influence the changes in the wort, hops, and other ingredients used in the brew. With this knowledge, she can influence the taste to a degree and ensure freshness. If pressures reached unwanted levels, she could speed up or even stop the reaction. She's saved a few keelers from rupturing in this manner.

Workplaces tended to have injuries so she included lessons in binding. Her brother's condition also influenced her desire to dive deeper than necessary into this school of magic. She hoped to aid in easing his pain and maybe her own one day.

Kinetic was helpful for speed, often allowed her to cover large areas in shorter time. Someone had to make sure everyone's working together and aware of any changes. Telekinesis allowed her to move more barrels than any girl her age could and ensured the carts were full before night hit.

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Currently Bonuses

#ebe7a3 year 1 to 2
#cbc66d year 2 to ?
#969351
#757011

"Take pride in what has yet to die"

Keelee was deeply affected by the loss of her father and the disavowal of her ability to take over his research and life’s work as she was still a child. This influenced her personality and in-part her blood type when her necromancy had manifested, wishing she could bring the dead back to life and live with the ones she loved forever, she acquired a special blood which allows her to bring the dead back to life even if only as zombies. Some operated by strings while others are hosts for demons from the void and beyond. The host inhabiting her father's vessel has only further served in exacerbating her paranoia and delusions that plague her mental wellness.

Keelee is particularly shy and usually melancholic, often speaking to corpses and animals as if they were people. She has a sincere desire to help others, especially to achieve their dreams and save lives. However, precisely because of his ingenuity she is also easily manipulated and easily gets involved in dangerous and illegal projects. Probably due to her background and her experience in medicine, she does not seem to feel disgust at working with human bodies, even if they are decomposing, nor does she feel remorse at awakening their bodies and manipulating them to achieve her end goal of perfect resuscitation. Keelee is a hard worker, giving all her strength and resources when given a task, locking herself in on the job until it is finished or completely exhausted.


Keelee’s skin color, perhaps from the aberration that passed down to in birth, led her skin color astray from most Eeaiko. Rather than a pallid or pale blue the hue that flushes her skin is a soft yellowish-green color, similar to the algae that hangs at the water’s surface. No, rather more akin to algal blooms seeing as her nature predilects the nature of algae that grows out of control while producing toxic or harmful effects on people, fish, shellfish, marine mammals, and birds, inevitably killing them. Her facial features are a bit more rounded and humanoid, possibly from her location in the Arid Sea exposing her to many a race and culture.

A deep brown, almost tattoo-like, mark runs down the edge of her right eye matched only by several fish scales she has adorned onto her skin as her own personal flair of aquatic fashion. Her fascination with the shimmering of scales and refraction of sunlight glistening off them has triggered her to cover her body in sporadic locations. Aside from the marks and scales she dresses herself in dressed with the base or affections being made from sea fans. Her hair is left messy with a braid forming from the center of the back of her long cyan colored hair. The rest of her attire and accessories are made up of corals, tunicates, and other aquatic invertebrates.


Naturally fluent in both water and surface languages of Helbauron, Keelee saw no real use for learning any languages outside of that seeing as they were a people that kept to themselves. It wasn’t until she was older and felt a bit more ostracized did, she frequent the surface more and more. Due to her geographical positioning in the Arid Sea, Keelee was exposed to several dialects and languages, most notably with Xochi. She’s built up a working knowledge of phrases and words that assimilated together form a very broken version that’s exclusive to foreigners. Her latest addiction is Avician seeing her enrollment at the academy.


Keelee’s RAS borders on the high end for most Eeaiko, ending at 6.91. Beyond the RAS she has grown into she was blessed or perhaps cursed with the aberrative mana type that is known as Necromancy. Her ability to reanimate the corpses of nearby enemies or allies into vessels for the possession of minor demons allowing her to become a puppet master has piqued the interest of the prominent university. More so in her breakthrough with keeping a permanent, dominant puppet in play that possesses somewhat of a higher intuitive demon than most basic summons. Dark and Chemical is where she draws from the most to keep her zombies quite potent while masking the smell they denote. Her zombified father has benefited from the two schools so much so it is hard for those to mistake him for a dead man. Binding and Kinetic are her second focus mostly for preservation and constitution of her puppets while kinetic is her least focused school but aids in fine control of her machinations movements.

❖ Magnetic: Neophyte
❖ Arcane: Apprentice
❖ Binding: Adept
❖ Chemical: Journeyman
❖ Kinetic: Novice
❖ Atomic: Neophyte
❖ Blood: Neophyte
❖ Dark: Adept

Before the inception of Keelee, her parents, part of the nobility with the Eeaiko demographic, enjoyed a life of comfort and ease. Her father was responsible for overseeing many inventions that saw the light of day. These ideas weren’t stolen from the Yasoi nor the humans as they usually were, but elevated or expanded on for the use of water dwelling people. His contributions were significant yet decadent in display which was something the other niche populations of Eeaiko were not used to. They were more traditionalist in nature and had grown accustomed to just one-to-one copies of Yasoi and human constructs. His inventions were then labeled heretical and dangerous that turned off some, but gained traction by forming a large cult following, gaining the eye of Royalty and ensuring funding since they enjoyed the nuanced inventions and the crowd it brought in. This put him in direct competition with a few other creators and in a negative light that led to the greasing of palms, exchanging of good for services, and mortal peril. Unaware of his position and security he thought nothing of it and returned day after day to his wife at home, ready to welcome his child along the way. Except he would never live to see the birth of his daughter, for on return to his workstation, he fell victim to an assassination attempt that proved true.

When news arrived to his wife the grief would not subside, which she knew was actively effecting the health of her child. To circumvent this and her sorrow she used the riches that were now in her name to contract a temporal mage to use their magic to reverse the Ymeehook bestowed on her husband. Unskilled in the ways of magic, she was none the wiser this mage had scammed her using a very chaotic spell. The temporal magic had worked as promised but ignited an aberration within her body that unbeknownst to her, manifested in their child, generating a cryptic mana type. Her father now back in the picture he was able to return to his family and his research. News quickly broke and hushed whispers spread through the localities, eventually dying out to plain gossip. No retaliatory actions were taken by the father or against him. Instead, years went by where he raised his daughter with his full attention, not wanting to waste his second chance. Keelee grew up more or less a happy child under the love of her parents, but waves of behavioral and mental disorders flared up from time to time.

It wasn’t until he unveiled his newest invention to streamline power to multiple localities did a new devious plot arise. A Quazoomik had found its way into his ranks, attempting to vie for his research and head of development. Surely another attempt at his life would be made, and so it was, or was it? He met his fate once more, but the details were a bit sparser this time around. His passing appeared to be a genuine accident, or had it? Unable to declare Hemvoorik, there was no clear perpetrator or anything to link to a murderer. The news broke to his family once more, completely breaking the wife, creating a catatonic husk that had spurious bouts of lucidity, presenting itself in laughter and denial. And awakening the magic in Keelee, giving rise to her obsession. Keelee was helped in burying her father, adorning his body with kelp and coral. Kelee wondered why people have to die and expressed her desire to bring everyone back to life, to be able to live with everyone she cares about for a long time.

Soon after she would begin to reanimate small creatures until she was plagued with staunch morbid curiosity, she ignored sentimentality and revived her father. The first iteration was an abomination from a child playing God, but she never quit. Afraid of being rejected and outcast from her home she moved on her own to a port city in the far east of Xochiyeteteo. There she was able to slowly perfect her reanimated father to a passing Eeaiko at the price of her sanity and entertaining a more notable demon to possess the vessel of her father that whispered indiscriminately in her ear. Word of her magic and research hit Ersand'Enise, making her a person of interest. Correspondence had reached her time and time again, yet Keelee was unsure if that is what she wanted or needed.


Keelee’s motivations are painfully simple, she wants to be able to perfect necromancy to the point she can fully reanimate a deceased boy with their original soul. Eeaiko religion in relation to the afterlife centers around the idea that, “You have two deaths. When you physically die and the last time someone remembers you." Keelee doesn’t accept that, rather, she fears the prospect of losing a loved one to the void for all eternity. Keelee is hellbent on preventing her father’s Ymeehaup and so needs the resources that no one but Ersand'Enise can provide, whether that is tools or faculty that support her. To her the relationship feels very quid pro quo, which phases her very little. Becoming a grandmaster and mastering her mana type for her own means justified the ends of what the school would do with her research, altruistic or not. The fear of failure is not an option of a symptom she's allowed to feel, once you're aware of it you can't remove it.


Keelee doesn’t carry much, she has no particular attachment to anything physical seeing as she holds bonds to a higher regard. She does carry around a small botanist pouch where she carries a few aquatic medicinal herbs but more importantly some marine mammals for chemical extraction. This can range from tunicates to sponges to bryozoans. Other than that, she keeps a necklace given to her mother by her father and a few pretty shells and pearls she can barter for coin if she ever needs it.




Necromancy has become her, Keelee’s strengths are shaped and catered around her obsessions and mana type. This has manifested into skills and strengths that help develop those abilities to a higher level. Being a puppet master has made her excellent at manipulating the living just as much as she can with the dead. She has no sense of morality, a given seeing as she pilfers the dead to join her army and will get her hands dirty where others would cower. In practice, it’s made her a better physician and botanist. What started off as a hobby due to the nature of her people that live in rich flora and fauna areas, turned into a tool. Her intimate knowledge of the interworking’s of the human anatomy and what they can endure and be prescribed has facilitated her goal to perfect her necromancy. There is a method to her madness and while the vision is lost on others, for Keelee it needs to be trusted to execute properly, regardless of who gets in her way.




Her strengths are also her weaknesses. Not completely of her own doing but the tragedy that had awarded her, her mana type and the constant forum with her dad’s vessel demon has served to erode much of a healthy mentality and trust of those around her, specifically in regard to the conspirators in her father’s death. Her need to strive for perfection and have such a lofty goal looming overhead has made her stubborn and obsessive, often making it hard to pry her away from anything but the tunnel vision road she’s laid out for herself. Stemming also from how devout her beliefs and traditions to the Eeaiko culture. While she is heavily adept at necromancy and the use of puppets, she has no real versatility outside of that. She has basic spells she can pull from but no secondary talents. Specifically in any kind of physical combat which makes it hard for her to fight in close quarters or in melee range, distance is key for her which makes her so nimble.


HEX Code: 52B2CF

"I don't see a law against profiting from doing good. What I do see are a lot of excuses from very wealthy failures standing in my way."

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"I don't spread rumors about myself. That's just a rumor."

Rumor has it that if you wander the streets of Mudville at night, inquiring about a certain "Five-Tailed Fox," the locals will point you in a general direction—and if you're lucky, a woman of indistinguishable ethnicity will appear to give you aid for whatever you require, for the right price. Make no mistake, though—you do not find the Five-Tailed Fox. The Five-Tailed Fox finds you.

Of course, that's just a rumor. There is no Five-Tailed Fox. The locals are playing a prank.

If one were to grow frustrated in their search and inquire about a "Six-Tailed Fox," however—well then, they might get somewhere.

Meet Xiuyáng. She's a bit of an oddball, or as the sailors say, a fish out of water. Though it could accurately be said that her complex family history leaves her with no place to fully belong, that suits a habitual traveler like her just fine; in fact, someone like her can go just about anywhere—and though her odd appearance may raise many questions, none of them would be too serious or inconvenient—merely curious. This is her strength. Her vaguely ethnic face blends into almost any crowd you'd find at any port in the Ensollian Sea. Nothing to see here—just another traveling merchant, on a very normal business venture. Pleased to make your acquaintance.

Though she comes from a wealthy family, she hides it well, dressing and acting more like her merchant father than her noble mother. Though she is, in theory, a magician with markedly high potential, she doesn't flaunt it; some even say she once paid the Little RAScals a modest fee to spread a rumor that she'd been invited to join them. Though she is young, she gives off an air of being wise beyond her years, her face seemingly tailored by Oraff himself to perfectly wear a knowing wink and smirk. Her devil-may-care attitude belies a quiet, deadly strength. She knows when to play up her shady, cutthroat merchant act, implying that her services will require a dire price to be paid—to reserve her hidden kindness and generosity for those who truly deserve and need it. In all, she keeps everything close to her chest, her cards always hidden from prying eyes. Everything one thinks they know about Xiuyáng is equally likely to be either the truth or a misdirection. Xiuyáng associates with very few and trusts even fewer. It's only recently that the wider student body has even become broadly aware of her existence.


"Sure, I'll lend you some hats—as many as you can balance on your head. No, I am talking about the currency. Now hold still, I need to concentrate."

Like her father, Xiuyáng is a shrewd businesswoman, always on the lookout for opportunities not seen by the untrained eye, listening in on a variety of conversations for any juicy gossip she may encounter. She frequents the streets of the markets, the alleys of port towns, and the parties of the upper class in equal measure. She keeps a low profile, but those in the know will take note of her presence—and more importantly, her absence. If she's absent at an event that everyone else in her circle is swarming to, there may yet be something even more interesting going on elsewhere, behind the scenes. Either she's scheming something big, or she's at an even wilder, secret party, likely getting drunk with some yasoi friends. Some say she doesn't truly get drunk, merely absorbing the alcohol by drawing from it and using it for some subtle, deceptive magic that'll get others talking—but that's a rumor.

While she's smart with money, Xiuyáng isn't what one would call a miser. She'll gladly pay full price for quality goods and services, and leave the bargain bins and flash sales for those who need such things to make ends meet. It's simply an aspect of her dedication to the ways of the gods. While she is an open but innocuous critic of the church, she is profoundly spiritual. Broadly speaking, she mostly adheres to the Quentic faith, but draws some inspiration from the Angic Way, believing that balance in life and self is important to both religions. After all, the most coveted fate one can be assigned after death is reserved for those who pleased all five gods equally. Her interest in the beliefs of the yasoi's Chosen Creed—and the sixth—is just a rumor. Don't believe those kids.


"If I told you that you owed me a favor because I gave you a Gift, you'd look at me funny. It's not a Gift if you owe me. Why, then, do we apply different standards to the gods?"

That's how some of the more "religious" practitioners of the Quentic Faith would describe Xiuyáng, anyway. She's a good-natured and well-meaning child of the faith who's just a hair or two off the straight and narrow road; a little patient, gentle correction will set her right. Most others see her as an innocuous religious progressive with the vapid opinions typical of youth. She's in a rebellious, edgy phase, and she'll grow out of it and wise up eventually. In reality, Xiuyáng does seriously consider other worldviews, and has nothing but disdain for the secrecy of the church, and the academy. They keep so many secrets—openly and arrogantly—that it begs the question of just how many secrets are kept in absolute secrecy. So far, though, she hasn't made any bold attempts to unveil those secrets—at least none that anyone knows about, or that came to any sort of fruition. She also definitely has no involvement in any high-profile protests that never officially happened, and whose instigators were never seen again. That's not even a rumor at this point, it's just straight up slander.


"To catch fish, cast a net. To teach music to a crab, castanets."

Sophomore: from Thalak 'sophos' (clever or wise) and 'moros' (foolish). A wise fool. Intelligent and philosophical—but young and yet inexperienced—Xiuyáng spouts both profoundly wise proverbs and a unique brand of abject nonsense in equal measure. Some say this is just yet more misdirection, and she's secretly a genius. That's just a rumor, though. In reality, she still has quite a lot of growing left to do. While she's quite "knowledgeable" in history, politics and religion, and is always expanding her repertoire of cultural experiences—ultimately, this so-called wisdom is highly derivative of the (albeit diligent) studies of a child of the upper crust of society, with little experience to back her confidence—which is, perhaps, the sharpest edge of her mind: the charm and wordsmithing skills to convince others that she knows what she's talking about. To some degree, she still lacks the "bullshit filter" of the truly wise; one may want to find a polite excuse to leave the room when she starts going on and on about something she heard while "accidentally" eavesdropping on the Truth-Seekers Society. Of course, she's not actually a member—nor does she periodically disguise herself as a variety of first-year students who only visit the club once and never return. Xiuyáng is much too busy for something silly like that.


"Don't try to butter me up—unless we're making sandwiches—in which case, you butter me right the fuck up—capito?"

While Xiuyáng is viewed in much the same light as a comically useless rebel without a cause, it is widely known that she is a wild party animal and a drunkard to boot, and this is generally more concerning to others with an eye for the well-being of the students. It can't be helped, some say, knowing she essentially spent all of her teenage years surrounded by sailors, and even longer shadowing her father's business deals at extravagant drinking parties. What can she say, she's a fun little thing with a taste for the fun juice, and she'll drink you under the table. She also knows how that sounds, and is totally here for it. Xiuyáng actively seeks out people and places to relax, chill and vibe. Her quiet disdain for the pompous manners and ceremony required in the presence of nobles is nonetheless quite strong, and a sailor's mouth is what to expect when she lets her hair down, especially if she's genuinely drunk. In her mind, it's all part of her spiritual philosophy. Study hard, party hard—and as it happens, her preferred crowd to hang with is the yasoi. She finds their hunger for new life experiences endearing, and their culture fascinating to a fault. Perhaps she even feels some measure of belonging with them, as an eternal traveler in both a physical and spiritual sense—but that's just a rumor. Really, the Yasoi'riimel are just fun to be around.


"Go ahead, call me a dumb bitch in a language I don't understand. I'll wait."

Xiuyáng is well-traveled, as is her heritage and her birthright. As such, she's fluent in not just Avincian and Revidian, but Torragonese and Rettanese—and by extension, can read and write a good amount of Nikanese as well. She's also quite competent with Virangish and Perrench, able to navigate various forms of negotiation just fine. Her Inipori and Belzaggic are barely passable at best, and her Eskandish is, how do you say... mjög slæmt? No, that's not the one. Anyway, you get it. She's trying to learn the yasoi language as well, but it's proven difficult for her. Learning languages was much easier when she was younger.




Xiuyáng is not your traditional pretty girl or classy lady. She keeps her hair short and most of her body covered, despite her ostensibly open personality. Some even say that her true appearance has never been seen, but that's just a rumor. Other rumors include that she's secretly a Bloodchild, or a yasoi with dwarfism, or that she has some horrific disfiguration or skin disease, or that she's a Sanguinaire protecting herself from the sun, or that she has Blackrot and covers herself to protect others from being drained to death. Still others, especially the girls, say that it's a simple case of low confidence or breast envy. Rumor has it she's been seen hanging with the Corpse Flowers once or twice. Honestly, nobody knows why she's so shy or secretive about her figure, but one thing is certain: in both appearance and spirit, she's "one of the boys."

Her manner of dress is a cultural hodgepodge. It's quite an eye-catching conversation piece—which, given her mercantile tendencies, is probably the primary function, rather than being fashionable abroad—though it is a nice side effect. She keeps everything but her hands and the upper half of her face—she's proud of her mother's eyes, if nothing else—covered at all times. She's also rarely seen without a medicine box strapped to her right hip (as is tradition, so that one makes the sign of Oraff when administering first aid, for good luck). As one of the more skilled students in binding magic, she sees it as something of a responsibility to always be quietly available to assist in any medical incidents, leading many to question where she suddenly appeared from. It violates her rule of staying low profile, but what can you do. When her fellow students are up to no good and somebody starts bleeding, it's her moment to shine.


"With just a bit of magic, and a lot of creativity, you can outshine the reverse."



With her high RAS score and family wealth and connections, her admittance into Ersand'Enise was essentially a guarantee. However, her almost singular focus on the binding school of magic was cause for concern. After rigorous testing, though, she was—somehow—able to convince the relevant authority figures that she is someone of upstanding moral character. Imagine thinking that Xiuyáng is actually a goody two-shoes underneath all the misdirection, and that her shady persona is a façade—mostly. That's definitely just a rumor. Anyway, with a bit of pressure, she selected arcane as her second school of magic, which has worked out pretty well for her, though she is still mostly interested in binding. Her skill in it as a second year student is quite remarkable, but one must wonder what she'll do once she's mastered it. Certainly, her parents will pressure her to pursue other schools more seriously so that she can graduate Summa cum Laude and become the Arch-Zeno she's clearly meant to be, but others worry that she might start to crave darker, unmentionable pursuits.

While it would be an exaggeration to call the Facemimic mana type a "Solari family secret," there are remarkably few people in all of Sipenta who are aware that they possess it, and that list is carefully managed by the Solaris themselves, as well as their powerful allies. Xiuyáng keeps this secret as well, knowing the dire consequences if it ever slipped to any of her friends. She keeps her Devourer mana type close to her chest as well, pretending to be drunk or sick when appropriate. In combat, she uses stealth techniques to buy her time in the heat of battle to offset her slower drawing speed. She'll sometimes play at being a Truecaster, a type which also has its origin in Torragon, to lower her opponent's guard for a vicious combo attack. In truth, there is a bit of her own personal bias in that as well. She believes it's only fitting that, when borrowing (drawing) from one god's domain of magic, it's just good manners to deposit back into the same account, so to speak. She doesn't keep a ledger or anything like that though.

Another method that she's devised to work around the limited drawing speed is a technique she calls "Casting the Net." Essentially, while she's mostly outgrown the need for focus words, she can use them as a crutch to ease multitasking, allowing her to cast a spell while drawing at the same time, giving her actions in battle just a little more efficiency. Naturally, it requires a near-meditative state of concentration to maintain both full strength of her spells and full drawing speed, and unless an ally is covering for her or her enemy is cowering in fear, one or both will have to be compromised to maintain it. It is undeniably cool to watch when she's using both hands to work her magic, but many rightfully argue that it's more trouble than it's worth.

One unique trick her obsession with binding magic has resulted in is the art of drawing from physical matter, basically storing the drawn object inside her manas, and reconstituting the exact same object later. What began effectively as little more than a party trick became seriously useful when she realized she could use it to pickpocket with a degree of plausible deniability. Of course, she's not interested in stealing some poor kid's lunch money. No, she's much more concerned with the keys that various faculty and Lamplighters carry on their person. It's said that she has quite the collection of duplicate keys she's made out of reconstituted metal, but that's just a rumor. She often practices this trick in secret, attempting to store and reproduce a functioning pocket watch. Thus far, though, it's always come out broken, alas.


"I could probably teach my family history for an entire semester. You're getting the redacted version."

Roughly three generations ago, various families of Rettanese nobility loyal to the Jiang Dynasty fled the pursuing Ten Dynasty, all the way across the Asperic Ocean to Virang, marrying into their noble houses, changing their names. Others who were unable to do so drifted to neighboring countries, including Torragon, where they did much the same. This is a very brief summary of her mother's side of the family. A young Sofia Yihan Xiang Esparza would inherit the Esparza Crown Jewellery Company here, and later marry Cosimo Solari, the successful owner of the Sant'Agata Albignese Trading Company, who would take the jewelry business to the next level in exchange for marrying into the Torragonese nobility. The arrangement proved profitable, affording the man nearly everything he wanted to achieve while supporting Prospero Malatesta's rise to power in Revidia. Cosimo had been an idealist, and wound up jaded by the whole affair, as in the end, merchants were still not afforded the same rights as the nobility—namely, the ability to be appointed Doge. He retains a cordial relationship with l'Anguilla, as he is not fool enough to tangle with the Eel.

The marriage proved fruitful as well, resulting in three daughters, of which Xiuyáng is the youngest. The others would marry off into other noble families, quietly expanding Cosimo's influence. However, Xiuyáng's raw magic potential was too great to ignore, and so it was decided that Ersand'Enise would be her future home. The news came to her as a mixed bag. Having the Gift made her special, but also, it meant that her adventurous life of traveling with her father was probably coming to an end. Being a clever and sneaky little girl, she would—in an unspoken bid to delay the inevitable—choose the binding school of magic, adding various trials and tribulations to the whole enrollment process. Much of her time in the following years would be spent shadowing various binding mages as they treated injuries and cured the sailors of her father's trading company of their illnesses. After a while, she'd become unironically interested in it, and took to the subject with notable enthusiasm. However, they wouldn't let her attempt any binding magic immediately, instead encouraging her to feel the wind of the Ensollian Sea, and use it for some small kinetic feats, in which she proved herself capable of picking up new skills quite quickly. She was brilliant, and had great potential—later to her chagrin.

At the same time, she was continuing to shadow her father as he conducted his business. As she grew older and more confident, she began fraternizing with various peoples: namely sailors, captains, and merchants, who'd have the most influence on her future temperament. While her father pushed her to be as productive as she could manage, her binding mage mentors were more relaxed, encouraging her to play and take breaks. They'd never imagine that she'd spend them watching the sailors brawl below decks, betting on the outcomes. This sparked her interest in martial arts, prompting her to pick up a few skills from her family's personal bodyguards. With her ability to out-drink even the drunkest of sailors, it wasn't long before she was considered "one of the boys," welcomed to drink with them and join the locker room talk. Her father would have hated this, of course, but he never found out about it. It was the best-kept secret of the fleet that Xiuyáng let loose whenever she was on a separate ship from her father. He did pick up on her new social skills, however, and began inviting her along to important meetings to listen to the nobles discuss business and politics.

Once she'd finally begun attending the academy, she started doing what she does best—making connections. She's in the maximum number of student clubs, and eavesdrops on a few others, namely the Truth-Seekers Society, Faithkeepers, and Egalite Fraternite. She also keeps tabs on the Faceless—or so she thinks—but is never directly involved in their activities—as far as she knows. Unbeknownst to her, they may be scouting her. Notably, she's absent from both the Carnation Accord and the Malturra Society, despite her obvious interest in binding magic, and alleged dabbling in blood magic. Some say she's a secret member of the Malturra Society, but given she's in the Magicians' Guild, that's impossible. It's possible that she's attending in secret, somehow, but that's just a rumor. She's too busy drinking and partying with yasoi friends to be of any real threat. Then again, her spotty attendance in most of these clubs speaks volumes...


"If the best doctors in the world can't handle it, I'll become better than the best."

If one were to use magic to force Xiuyáng to tell the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth, she would tell you that she wants what she can't have—a simple life on the high seas, traveling with no higher purpose in mind. She's convinced that this is impossible, though, and so she's settling for what, in her mind, is the next best option: to become truly, unfathomably, unreasonably skilled at exactly one thing, and ensure that her skills are needed worldwide. In her case, that would be the use of the Gift to preserve and improve the lives of others. She believes that service to the gods should be entirely voluntary, and in her case, she's chosen Oraff—not to the exclusion of others, mind you, but it's simply not plausible for a mortal to be in five places at once—not that she hasn't considered the Temporal route. However, she rather values her sanity, in spite of her flagrant alcoholism. Look, she's working on it.

She fears disappointing her family, or being badgered, pressured, or even forced to pursue something more than her personal interests encompass. Her parents will probably give her no small amount of trouble if she won't broaden her horizons to other schools of magic so she can graduate with the highest honors. In particular, her father drills into her the importance of maintaining wealth, status, power and influence. Hoard money openly, and spend in secret, he says, that none may know your intentions. Fraternize with the nobility whenever possible, that you might someday marry up into a reputable and wealthy family. Carry the biggest sword, and do not reveal the full extent of its reach to your enemies. Bring all others to heel with a gentle hand. She's taken some of this to heart, but rejected most of it. She loves the mercantile life that her father cynically left behind, and dreads the day that his newly acquired noble title will come back around to thrust its tired, predictable expectations upon her colorful, fun life.


"Of course I've got the goods. I'm a Solari. Now, what're ya buyin'?"

Xiuyáng carries a large but nonetheless portable medicine box, not just for her personal use during any medical incidents she may be present for, but also to sell and trade with. Within the right circles, she's known to deal in borderline illegal, recreational substances, if given the right code phrases. Her medicine box also contains a few small tools useful for gathering more ingredients. Generally, she uses her manas to store much of the same stuff within her own body, able to create more medicine in the unlikely event that she runs out. She'll have to give that stuff up if she finds herself in combat, but that's a pretty rare occasion.

Of course, she always has money on her—and lots of it. Occasionally, she'll open up a tent in the market and sell some Torragonese jewelry from her mother's company at a nominal student discount. The brand is quite a hit with the ladies, and rings are very popular. She's often seen with a smoking pipe in her hand, but she doesn't touch the stuff, instead drawing the chemical energy directly. Amusingly, she'll use it as an impromptu wand, if she's suddenly attacked. It also gives her an air of shrewd maturity that she finds quite advantageous when making business deals—a trick she learned from her mother. Another trick she learned from her is that a full sack of coin makes for an effective impromptu bludgeon. Aside from that, Xiuyáng doesn't carry any weapons aside from her cherry wood wand, unless she's forced to. On such occasions, she prefers claw-like weapons such as the Nikanese tekkō-kagi or a pair of the Sawandi equivalent, the baghnakh.


Use: As someone who often finds themselves on the water, never having to worry about drowning is a big plus. Disguising her voice is its primary purpose however. The interlocking-plate design comfortably accommodates her changing facial structure when using Facemimicry. Clean breathing is rarely useful, but redundant layers of protection are always welcomed when dealing with sketchy types. It offers a degree of plausible deniability when and if her immunity to toxins gets noticed. It's obviously the mask. She's not a Devourer; that's just a rumor.


Use: Xiuyang doesn't quite know what the gourd does, yet. She hasn't tried smacking anyone with it, but she has chugged from it many times, and received a positive energizing effect each time. She'll experiment with it more soon, but for now it seems like a very promising item to her.


Use: Xiuyang hasn't used it yet. She can feel the increase in manas. She'll test it out soon enough.


Use: Xiuyang, the all-seer. Be very afraid. She seems to be regularly using the Temporal Clairvoyance for something, but she won't tell anyone what it is.


Use: Xiuyang's first truly lethal weapon. War approaches; perhaps it's time to get serious.


Use: Another lethal sidearm. After the Trials, Xiuyang is arming herself to the teeth. What could she be thinking?


Use: Xiuyang has given the other mirror to Ciro Volta as a gift. She seems to have grand plans for this item.


Use: It's warm and cozy. Xiuyang likes to wear it like a shawl.


Use: Xiuyang badgered Ciro to buy this for her so she could sleep easier. Knowing her, she will use it to get more work done, rather than sleep more.




Use: Her coziness has reached the next level.


Use: Her main armor set.


Use: ???


Use: Charm can be taught, but there's no replacement for Rosebud.


Use: Her coldfire wyvern, Minerva, is now fashionable for the holidays.


Use: Perhaps, if she finds a friend on the battlefield, she can spare them.


Use: For a truly desperate situation.


Use: To replenish her medicine box (and her ammo box). Keep your powder dry!


Use: A second chance.


Use: With Xiuyang's firearms, particularly the Second Chancers.








"Oraff keep you, but at the same time... I never forget a face. Fuck around and find out, yeah?"

Surprising no-one, Xiuyáng's specialization is in stealth and subterfuge. Truly, she can go almost anywhere just by being herself, but when that's not enough, being a Facemimic is the icing on the cake. Xiuyáng usually avoids combat through arcane light-bending and kinetic sound-dampening, remaining undetected on the battlefield while gathering up useful resources and tending to the injured. It may seem unnecessary to some, but having studied Tan Keoulean and Nikanese history, Xiuyáng laughs at the notion of "rules of war." Blindly trusting her enemies to spare her life because she's a medic, or because she's a woman—or whatever other vapid, comforting notions others may rely on—is the privilege of children and of the naïve.

Xiuyáng is quite well-connected within the bounds of the Ensollian Sea, having spent her teenage years on various ships in her father's fleet, shooting the breeze with sailors, captains, merchants, and nobles. Really, it's her father's name that pulls the weight when she decides to make use of these connections, but she's not above it. Because of these past experiences, she also knows a great deal about how to run a ship, as well. One might think she'd be a valuable hostage—and one would be right—but anyone looking to kidnap her has their work cut out for them. Not only does her raw magic potential and strength of binding technique make her nigh impossible to contain—and her arcane and kinetic skills nearly impossible to catch besides—she's also pretty tough. You kind of have to be tough to impress sailors who are a foot taller than you. She picked up a unique style of physical combat from her family's personal bodyguards called Liu-Tian, which borrows techniques from both Machorro and Seun-chi-go. Many hapless street thugs are caught unaware by just how willing this seemingly pacifistic girl is to enter into a brawl, and just how favorable her chances are when she has the element of complete surprise.




"I'm a binder with blinders, on a lifelong bender!"

With the lion's share of an entire continent as her oyster, one may wonder what Xiuyáng can't do. Truthfully, she wonders the same. One answer might be that a big oyster is pretty empty with nobody to share it with. She trusts very few, and struggles to make genuine connections or trust others completely. While she's not so much of a lone wolf that she can't follow simple orders, asking her to do anything that might put her in a compromised position where she must rely on others to bail her out of said position will earn you a scoff and a polite counteroffer to fuck right off. Her teamwork leaves much to be desired. Another answer to the whole oyster dilemma might be that she's stretched too thin, filling it with junk. She is ever in the information gathering phase of various projects, but somehow—according to her—always lacking that special little piece of critical information that would cause her to act. She suffers from a loosely defined identity, too many options to choose from, and, to put it quite plainly, a lack of ambition. An excess of ambition, she will remind you, is portrayed as a critical character flaw in Thalak tragedy, and—as she'll rant on and on about, in the right setting—she hates how wealth, power, status and influence have become the nobility's raison d'être. With the introduction of the middle class into the structure of society, they—including her father and mother—have lost their way, and will incur Dami's wrath in the afterlife for exerting their will on the populace.

On the other hand, it could also be said that Xiuyáng suffers from tunnel vision. She rigorously studies the binding magic arts, to the exclusion of almost everything else. Her interest in other schools of magic only truly manifests to the degree that said school might make her a more effective medic. Arcane and kinetic help her to keep a low profile, while chemical lets her spread some of that happy brain juice that she desperately craves around to others. Some say that her true interest lies in blood magic, but that's just a rumor. True, she skirts the line, often snidely remarking to her critics that "blood magic is not used for defense," and "binding magic isn't real." However, no-one can mount any evidence against her that her interest in blood magic is anything more than an extension of her focus on medical applications, or even just idle curiosity. Because of her myopic view of the schools of magic, though, she generally makes for a pretty poor combatant. Her spiritual nature makes her a bit of a pacifist; though she will throw hands to protect herself and others when necessary, she will scarcely take a life except in the service of preserving it. Her dedication to Oraff is in no small part responsible for why her less scrupulous activities are largely tolerated. This tolerance, though, has left Xiuyáng a bit spoiled. While her recreational activities on the water keep her in reasonable physical shape, she scoffs at the notion of doing any hard labor herself. She tries to couch it by saying that it's her role in creation to pay skilled workers a livable wage for such things, but anyone with any sense knows that's a flimsy excuse to spend less time working and more time drinking. The girl loves her alcohol—and loves to blame the stuff for her occasional outbursts of emotion. A silver tongue becomes a double-edged sword when wielded in anger, and words that cut deep with surgical precision can't easily be taken back.


"Shune won't kill you if you learn too much, but curiosity killed a cat or two."

Points History for Salty Rat Bois:
Starting Points: 1 Binding, 2 Arcane, 1 Chemical, 1 Kinetic
First Semester: Took Binding and Arcane. 2 Binding, 3 Arcane, 1 Chemical, 1 Kinetic
Second Semester: Took Binding, Chemical, and Blood. 3 Binding, 3 Arcane, 2 Chemical, 1 Kinetic, 2 Blood
Also gained that year: 1 Arcane (daily stealth practice)
Year One Final Tally: 3 Binding, 4 Arcane, 2 Chemical, 1 Kinetic, 2 Blood

Points During Metropolis: 3 Binding, 4 Arcane, 2 Chemical, 1 Kinetic, 2 Blood

2nd Year First Semester: Took Binding, Chemical, and Blood. 4 Binding, 4 Arcane, 3 Chemical, 1 Kinetic, 3 Blood

Proficiencies
1. Analytical (AL): 6
2. Emotional (EM): 3
3. Communication (CM): 3
4. Technical (TC): 4
5. Sensory (SN): 2
6. Leadership (LS): 4
7. Survival (SL): 2
8. Ecological (EL): 1
9. Cultural (CL): 7
10. Artistic (AR): 1
11. Physical (PL): 3
12. Combat (CB): 0
13. Spiritual (SP): 3

Classes, Year 1, 1st Semester:

• MR101A-J: Sensing & Drawing
• GR101A-J: Mathematics
• MF102A-E: Foundations in the Arcane School of Magic
• MF103E-G: Foundations in the Binding School of Magic
• MR102K-T: Conversion
• GR102K-T: Avincian
• Free
• AC104B: Fundaments of History and its Lessons for the Practice of Magic
• MR103A-J: Casting
• GR103K-T: Theology
• Free
• SK101B: Etiquette, Decorum & Forms of Address in Polite Society
• AC106B: Fundaments of Statecraft and Leadership in Magical Practice
• SK106B: Business, Negotiation & Money Management

Classes, Year 1, 2nd Semester:

• MR101A-J: Sensing & Drawing
• GR101A-J: Mathematics
• MF104A-D: Foundations in the Chemical School of Magic
• MF103E-G: Foundations in the Binding School of Magic
• MR102K-T: Conversion
• GR102K-T: Avincian
• SK104B: Athletics, Agility, Physical Fitness & Sporting Activities
• Free
• MR103A-J: Casting
• GR103K-T: Theology
• Free
• SK102A: Making Camp, Foraging, Hunting and Travel in Remote Areas
• MF107A-B: Blood Magic
• AC101: Fundaments of Philosophy and its Relation to the Magical Arts

Classes, Year 2, 1st Semester:

• MR201A-J: Containment & Efficiency
• GR201A-J: Mathematics
• MF204A-D: Chemical Magic
• MF203E-H: Binding Magic
• MR202K-T: Freecasting
• GR202K-T: Written Avincian
• AC201A: Philosophy in the Ancient World - Zaqhoria to Avince
• SK201B: The Art of Persuasion by All and Any Means
• MR203A-J: Preservation
• GR203K-T: Theology
• AC203A: Cartographical Practice and Measurement
• SK204C: Advanced Gardening & the Myriad Uses of Plants
• Free
• AR206B-C: Tailoring & Fashion
• MF208B: Blood Magic
• SI10: Angic Philosophy, Practice, and Meditation

Classes, Year 2, 2nd Semester:

• MR204A-J: Focus Words & Triggers
• GR204A-J: History
• MF204I-L: Chemical Magic
• MF207D: Temporal Magic
• MR205K-T: Multiplicative Effects
• GR205K-T: Logic
• SK208A: Glassmaking
• AC207B-C: Philosophy in the Modern Era
• GR206A-J: Avincian Rhetoric
• MR206K-T: Defense Against Magical Threats
• SK210A-C: A Merchant's Guide to Finance & Accounting
• Free
• SK212A-C: An Introduction to Martial Arts & Combat Sports
• AC212C-D: An Introduction to Chemistry
• SI02: Recognizing and Resisting Dangerous and Radical Philosophies
• SI06: Living with a Disability

Magicians' Guild - Officially a member, and a pretty active one—expected, given her heritage. She's always eager to do business, and others are always eager to meet her parents by way of her referral—a win-win for everyone involved. Will leverage the available discounts for others outside the Guild if they ask nicely.

Steamchurners - Got in before anyone realized that she comes from a noble family. They were so cool with her that they voted to just let her stay without a test. She appreciates their unpretentious and humanist vibe. Philosophy and drinking is her way of being—preferably both at the same time. She picked up a few neat arcane tricks here, too.

Innovators' Exchange - The place to be when looking for business opportunities, though it's usually the members of the club who are seeking out Xiuyáng for her interest in various projects of theirs. Xiuyáng herself is interested in where technology is going, and whether or not it may someday restructure society entirely, in some kind of technological revolution.

Society of the Grapes - A place where nobles parody themselves while throwing incredible parties? Xiuyáng was born for this. She's right at home with the other masked attendees, and well respected for her high magical power, unique insight, and—somewhat paradoxically—her willingness to be casually and flagrantly incorrect.

Waveriders - Xiuyáng very much enjoys their activities. Access to their equipment is generally useful to her too, if not for nefarious purposes. Anyone hoping to catch a glimpse of her body by signing up is sure to be disappointed, though, as she covers herself even while surfing. Seriously, in this climate? Torragonese genes are something else.

Brotherhood of Brew Appreciators - Naturally, Xiuyáng will try just about any brew, and can drink pretty much the entire club under the table one after another, despite being a woman of average proportions. Nobody knows her Devourer secret, as she mostly only pretends to be drunk, using the beer for chemical energy to give her the high using a Blessing of Joy. It takes an unreasonable amount of alcohol to actually inebriate her.

Yasoi'riimel - Most outsiders and even a few insiders assume Xiuyáng is only there to learn all about the secrets of the academy. However, she's unironically interested in yasoi culture and religion as well, and at least one or two of the members genuinely know it, while most others just agree she's harmlessly fun and generally tolerant of strangeness. These guys are her home away from home—don't fuck with 'em.

“I was a fookin legend in Barrowton… A fookin LEGEND!”

Tommy is someone who fears nothing. Not because he is brave, but because he does not understand the consequences to his actions. He lives as he wishes, and relishes in the joys that the world has to offer. Gambling? What a thrill. Fighting? Exhilarating. Debauchery? He's all for it. What defines him is a continuous search for excitement, pleasure and joy in the world he's been so lucky to survive in as a commoner, all the while he continues to expand power and accumulate such wondrous experiences. A dilemma rests within his crass, confident personality though. Is he slowly becoming a member of the ruling class that he once so despised? Should he seek its downfall, when he lies so close to truly joining that circle that's so far away?

Tommy is an unshakeable confident guy, yet he does not mind being the underdog. He lets people underestimate him, jeer, jape, laugh behind his back. He lets them think he's a dumb commoner scumbag that was stealing rings and horses before getting a lucky scholarship here because he takes pride in who he is, and makes no attempt to deny it. And it makes him look all the more better when he knocks them flat on their ass. Tommy loves who he is, he loves his family and he loves the way of life he follows.


Tommy isn't the picture of beauty, but it's not like he's ugly either. Messy brown hair, grey eyes and sharp cheekbones carry a decent chunk of the load, and to be quite honest, he's probably one of the better looking people in his family. He stands on the shorter side(around 5'7), but doesn't display the typical insecurity by a shorter man, but revels in it. Besides that, the man has an exceptional physique, one that both holds an extraordinary amount of musculature and yet looks very aesthetically pleasing. What is even more odd is that he is not the type to train in that regard. Do drunken bar brawls really give you that kind of build?

His dress differs greatly depending on what he's aiming to accomplish. Strutting through lessons, or going about his business? Loose, casual attire. Trying to impress a highborn lady? The only suit he owns, perfume, the works. The man knows little about fashion sense, and usually looks for advice on the matter, but does have a love for jewellery when he's not on the job. Rings, chains, necklaces, the works.


Enthish - Native
Avincean - Fluent
Agrarian - Fluent
Kerreman - Fluent





Tommy was born to a mother on the streets of Barrowton, a middling city in the state of Enth, in a rather large family of travelers. He grew up in a massive household, with over 7 siblings, typical of a peasant. But he was somewhat special, in that he had a latent magical ability. Only a couple of his siblings could say the same, and he was the youngest. Surprisingly enough, also the only trueborn human of the group. For among his siblings counted a menagerie of halfbreeds, and nary a father that stayed among them. Perhaps it was because such a large family kept on expanding, growing bigger and bigger. For the Kavanagh's did not move alone, but as a unit. Uncles, aunts, grandparents, the troupe stayed together whenever and wherever they went.

Even though Tommy knew he was special among his family for possessing the rare gift of magic, he believed he was special for another reason. His mother told him that she had only bore children of important and special men, and that he was one such child. A bastard son of Prince John of Enth, who had visited her bed. Whether this is true is something that is highly questionable, even given the Prince's demeanor and antics, but there is something of a resemblance in the two. Besides, he had a bloodtype! Isn't that something only those fancy noble folks get?

And growing up around his vast family in the rougher parts of Enth, Tommy quickly learned what it was like to go to bed with an empty stomach. The thrill of stealing a horse from some middling merchant, and eating securely for a week. He became something of a myth in Barrowton, or so he says. The truth of the matter remains, he learned a lot of the tricks of the trade in that not so lovely part of the world. Thievery, gambling, drinking, spending every spare coin he got on a sneaky trip to a brothel, it was more than enough for him to live happily.

One day, the Kavanagh's packed their bags and set off on a boat to the city of Ersand'Enise. He was upset to leave his hometown behind, but the way of their people dictated that they travel, and so they did. This city was nicer, richer, but they never saw much of inside the walls. Instead, they worked in Moli's emporium in Mudville. A pleasant enough place, not too dissimilar to his homeland despite better weather. Surprisingly, he adapted far better to this climate than to his former homes.

Job security was snatched away from him when Moli's was destroyed by a band of rampaging noble kids. He saw a lot of it. As did his family. Thankfully, they never lost anyone, but a lot of people he cared about perished in the fires and collapses that occurred. It was not something the school could so easily sweep under the rug. And having lost their jobs, his parents were given a boon to stay silent. A free ride for one of your kids to attend the prodigious academy, if they had the manas. His sister would have been a prime candidate, a half-yasoi, but she sadly was a couple years too old. He, however, was in the prime age range. 17 years old and just enough manas to pass the test, he was admitted in.

The next year of school was a grand old time. He learned a lot of magic, and his innate ability helped with that learning, but the books were still an issue. It took him a while to learn how to read properly, He made plenty of comrades, and enemies in the beer hall. A drunken night lead to something special, and he emerged from that night significantly more confident, for what reason is yet to be seen.

A fateful night also came when he got a stipend from his scholarship. A vast amount of money for a commoner of his station, meant to be spent on living expenses. What the school didn’t account for is the impulsive brain of Tommy. He took that paycheck and spent it at the Vermillion Swirl, on a rather pretty Eeiako. A night of fun, japes and joking, and once again, he emerged more confident and enriched from the experience. A friendship made over pleasures of the flesh.

Now, he awaits the next year. A chance to show off in the trials.


Tommy is here because he's a lucky bastard. When Mudville was wrecked, he was given this chance as one of the only kids with RAS to stay hush about the whole event, and he intends to make good on this scholarship. Before school, he was a traveling carnie, thief, bruiser, whatever people would pay him to be. Here? He gets to mix with the upper crust, romance some pretty noble ladies, beat up some highborn lads with little consequences and enjoy life to its fullest, all the while gaining strength and experience. What better reason could someone have?










Guy has a massive fucking family. Like 30+ members. All here, in Mudville. Nearly all his siblings are half-breeds of some kind. Half yasoi, half-eeiako, the works.
Color Code = Gray

Eyes: Brown
Hair: Wavy Black
Skin Tone: Olive, moderate tan
Height: 5ft 6 inches
Weight: 145 lbs
Physique: Athletic, slender
Facial Features: Tends to seem always annoyed or serious, even when calm
Physical Quirks: Seems slightly thin despite her appetite
Distinctive Features: Tattoo swirls of geometric patterns forming 'waves' down her back. Upon closer inspection, the trained eye can note the irregular stripe scars underneath.

Fashion

Due to the cultural differences, the local fashion scene is not a favorite of Mahal's. This hasn't prevented her from gradually incorporated it into her own daily wear.

For classes, she wears a simpler version of the regional fashion. She wears the smock, kirtle, and a simple skirt draping just above her ankles. Wrapped about her shoulders and down her waist is a sheer, flowing scarf of lighter color. For these, she has only found deep reds and browns that suit her tastes. Though she prefers barefoot, Mahal will wear shoes when needed.

Outside of classes or on casual days, she prefers a single piece dress with her scarf wrapped about her waist. Floral patterns are hand stitched into it. The colors vary based on her mood, but often she prefers bright colors of yellow, red or brown. On special occasions, she'll wear black with white stitched patterns. She will wear at least one or two of her accessories depending on her mood.


Name- Origins- Comprehension level- Types

Palaparense- Native- Mastery- Verbal and Written
Virangish- Native -Mastery- Verbal and Written
Rettanese-Learned-Intermediate- Verbal mainly
Sawandish-Learned-Intermediate- Verbal mainly
Avincian-Learned-Advanced- Verbal and Written *

* Struggles with certain words and phrases/sayings, may ask for it to be repeated.



Magnetic-3
Arcane-2
Binding-2
Chemical-3
Kinetic-3
Atomic-0
Blood-0
Temporal-0
Dark-0
Command-0
Primordial-0



On the school records, she is known as Ceren Agha from Palapar. Despite that little fact, she prefers Mahal and requests others use it over her Virangish one. Born as the daughter of wealthy plantation owner Ruslan Agha and his second wife, she is the half-sister of Lunara Agha. Since a young age, Mahal has been Lunara's caretaker and playmate. She gained skills in how to cook, clean, and even repair clothing. It was clear to her for years who her father favored as she felt she could do no right in his eyes.

One incident, a memory that haunts her, opened her eyes to this fact.

As children, most days they chased each other in the front garden. One day Lunara darted into the coffee fields and forced Mahal to follow. Her half-sister encountered a Thunder Tamarin which bit and shocked her. Determined to protect Lunara, Mahal tossed a kicker snail at it and then bolted off with Lunara. Instead of praise for her quick thinking, her father unleashed his wrath upon her. In later years, the scars of that day were covered in tribal tattoos to hide her shame. A few years later, Lunara received a kitten from one of their family’s prized Goma cats. A protector of sorts.

Their magic manifested around their twelfth birthday at the same time. While Mahal prepared the morning meal, her shout shattered a dish and startled her mother. At the same time, Lunara smashed a vase into a wall. It wasn't the only change that Mahal had to endure when it came to her body. It was subtle at first, but her wounds healed notably faster and she had more energy after heavy meals. Unfortunately, her appetite seems endless forcing her to adapt. Skipping meals made her irritable and weakened her focus, resulting in her being locked away in a tiny room.

Eventually Mahal resorted to drastic measures. She heavily seasoned bark or raw bone chunks, making the ususual materials easier to eat. These denser things lessen the hunger pains to tolerable levels. One of many efforts she discovered to aid her.

After their display of magic, her father summoned her. He informed them that they would attend Ersand’Enise Academy of Thaumaturgy. They had three years to prepare. Mahal's only purpose to be there was to support and keep her sister on track with her task. Any failure would result in her returning home to face the consequences.

Mahal hoped, foolishly, if she succeeded that she might finally earn his approval. A small, quieter part of her knew better.

Over the next three years, her father brought in private tutors for them both. The girls studied together while the teachers pushed Lunara's progress over hers. Naturally her sister thrived, but Mahal struggled with the Avinican language. When the day to depart Palapar finally arrived, their family came to see them off. While Lunara and her mother shared a tearful farewell, Mahal approached hers. After the pair embraced, Onaona gifted her with a small box. Within it was a small, blue kicker snail to always remind her of home. Mahal later named it Koha, or warrior.

Their first year at the academy proved to be a hard lesson in how differently their cultures worked. At first the girls struggled to fit in until they struck a balance. It was during this time, Mahal experienced true freedom. She discovered a love of combat and the adrenaline it brought. Sneaking out at night without Lunara also proved to be easier than it had been at home. For the first time, Mahal has started to wonder about her future and what it might mean.



On the surface, Mahal's motivation for attending the academy was straightforward. Lunara needed a familiar face to ground her and ensure she kept on track with her goals. Nothing more or less. So far, she has had little trouble doing this.

On a deeper level, Mahal wants her father's approval. She believed by being successful , he might realize her worth and things become better. Some quiet part of her knows she's clinging too hard to this lie.

The first year of the academy filled her with new experiences, some good and bad. She had experienced a sense of freedom she never knew before. One free of her father's judgment and suffocating presence. She has a strong enjoyment of combat, both in practice and education.



Wardrobe Up to about six different dresses for various occasions and seasons, most of them picked out by Lunara. Some are even brought recently from the city, but many stem from Palapar. She also has accessories that are more tribal in nature than her half-sister. Earrings made from Goma cat teeth, one or two silver bangles, and necklaces made with decorative stones, shells, and even fur. She also has a few pairs of shoes suitable for the changing weather.

Box Koha's home is a decorative box coated with sap to preserve the walls, both inside and out. The dimensions are about ten inches wide, seventeen inches in length, and a foot deep. The contents within are as listed:
-one snail (Koha)
-two branches tilted for scaling
-one to two large rocks
-plate with any number of food ranging from worms to vegetables
-bowl of water











❖ Tattoos that decorate the back part of her body, from between the shoulders to her lower back, cover scars that stripe across the flesh.

Manas Y1: 123

Hexcode: #B8860B

"Discovery is the spice of life."

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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 want 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.

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 his.


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 else 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.



Blueblood, Copycat

❖ [ M A G N E T I C ] 4 ❖ [ A T O M I C ] 0
❖ [ A R C A N E ] 0 ❖ [ B L O O D ] 4
❖ [ B I N D I N G ] 3 ❖ [ T E M P O R A L ] ?
❖ [ C H E M I C A L ] 5 ❖ [ D A R K ] 0
❖ [ K I N E T I C ] 0 ❖ [ C O M M A N D ] 0

Johann is, ultimately, a terrifying force of nature with the Gift, and his manas' ability to copy spells renders him even more 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.


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. One who doesn’t even love me, 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.


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 some 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.

_{Of course, there's a whole other side.}


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.



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.



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.


Colour Code: Goldenrod

"Father Damy has blessed you with the right to be wrong."

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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 friends. However, she will absolutely not, under any 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.


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.



{unknown), Solocaster

❖ [ M A G N E T I C ] 0 ❖ [ A T O M I C ] 0
❖ [ A R C A N E ] 2 ❖ [ B L O O D ] 5
❖ [ B I N D I N G ] (5) ❖ [ T E M P O R A L ] 3
❖ C H E M I C A L ] 4 ❖ [ D A R K ] 0
❖ [ K I N E T I C ] 2 ❖ [ C O M M A N D ] 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.


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.


"A healer should do no harm."

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.


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.



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.



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.


Colour Code: F0FFF0

“When you try and stand above your clan, mind the ceiling.”

Talkhan might be an absolute joy to be around or an absolute nightmare, depending on the type of person you are. There can be no introverts as long as he is around, given his constant talking and prodding. While he does enjoy hearing himself talk, even if the other person scarcely gets a word in, he is satisfied. That being said, he does have sensitive points, and if you start to push them, you might find his ire. He also has a poor habit of not letting go of things unless they are resolved


Talkhan possesses the physical characteristics and adorned trimmings of a classical Hegelan noble. His flesh has a light shade of pink, only slightly coarse, having been polished to a degree above the typical Hegelan ruggedness. His beard and hair are neatly trimmed to complement his facial shape, giving him a very clean appearance.

In most types of settings, Talkhan’s clothing selection would normally be sharp, akin to that of a regimental officer, but his clothes are worn far too comfortably. His shirt is unbuttoned from the top few buttons, cuffs left open, and even rolled up at times.





Leadvein, Brutalist




“You are sure?”

Talkhan felt his lip curl at his friend’s tone. His fists clenched as his teeth clenched in an effort not to lash out at the slightest of provocations, though neither of them would find themselves surprised. The first son of Kharan MakAndzey did not handle high stress well, becoming more like iron in hardness and brittleness. What could be more stressful than making a life-changing decision? One that a few Hegelans dared to even consider, let alone do: He was leaving the mountain.

The act wasn’t one of exile but, rather, opportunity. The doors of the Great Halls were open, exposing the wide world of Sipenta. Everyone was always telling him how advantageous this would be for his clan. How he’d do them proud, and he wanted to believe that, but somehow, doubt lurked in the back of his mind that he was doing this for selfish reasons. He wanted to escape the pressure and rigidity of his life here. The expectations he was burdened with ever since he could remember. Academics started when he was young, the trade soon after. Fighting came when he was strong enough to pick up a hammer, but the official instruction was dreadfully boring.

Talkhan turned, his shoulders dropping as he relaxed upon seeing his friend’s face. He reached up to clasp his fellow’s shoulder and gave it a slightly too hard squeeze.

“Fundarvi. I’ve never been surer in my whole life.”

Talkhan said, emphasizing with a nod. He'd miss his friend, the corrupting influence he needed to enjoy life even if it stirred trouble. They were little troublemakers growing up, he and all of his tankard brothers. They were all much like him, nobles escaping from responsibility. The drinking games they played led to many outings throughout the hold, causing trouble for the patrolmen. Most of it wasn't dangerous, aside from perhaps getting into fights with the haughty folks from the farms and ranches. All their grandstanding, now that some of them had money, was laughable at best and quarrelsome at worst.

“Ronkhar-az-MakAndzey!”

Fundarvi bellowed reaching up to mirror Talkhan’s clasping shoulder gesture.

“Ronkhar-az-Hagh Ramorghan!”

Talkhan replied, speaking louder as he gave a few pats to his friend. Fight for the clan, fight for the Hold. Every Hegelan hoped to do so in their own way and make their ancestors proud. He just hoped he was doing it for the right reasons.


Outwardly, Talkhan’s maneuver to leave the mountain seems ambitious and daring. Many commend the young lad for his efforts to help his clan grow beyond just the mountain, and gaining trading knowledge from around the world seems like a very practical way to achieve that. There is a part of Talkhan where he justifies himself in that he is doing just that - learning and growing to be better for his clan. However, the secret is, he wants to escape the pressures that come with his role. His family is affluent, one of the richest, and with the mounting pressures of this new economic advantage, selling to other races, and the risks of new money in Hegelan society trying to dethrone old clans, there is a lot riding on Talkhan.


Grungr-a-Alokh - Hammer’s Song - A trivam-smelted warhammer as tall as Talkhan walks. It was a gift from the previous King of Ramorghan to the MakAndzey cousins for their cooperation and discretion, although publicly this was not known. Not even Talkhan is aware of the full backstory, but essentially, his grandfather did some less heroic deeds to secure the King’s place during a turbulent time in Ramorghan's history.

Thirty-Three Cases of Mana Stouts, Ales, and Porters - The son in a line of brewers, he prefers to drink Hegelan brews regularly. While thirty-three cases are a start, he surely doesn’t have enough to get through the whole year. Each brew does raise his RAS level, but he isn’t drinking them for that.

Six Cases of Mana Shots - Each stone casket contains sixteen metal vials of the strongest mana brews to help Talkhan reach his maximum potential.

Mammoth Tower Shield: A shield wielded by Ogauraq warriors. Near unparalleled protection for those that can wield it. Must be at least an expert Kineticist, be an Ogauraq, or have exceptional physical might. Reduces damage from Area of Effect attacks by two tiers (halved for bosses). Twice per scenario, the wielder can [HUNKER DOWN] to sacrifice their turn and take no damage. Adds +3 to solo defense rolls, but causes its bearer to roll disadvantage for combo defenses. Provides 30 manas.

Belua Bellicosus: Ironhead - A goatlike car-sized dragon that camouflages among the cliffs and mountains of West Callanast, extremely quick and nimble, with a bonecrushing ramming attack. Though deeply territorial, this is a rideable dragon.

"Watch out, everyone! Raffie's gonna turn invisible and snuggle all your pets without permission! Ooh, yeah! Be very afraid!"

---

---

Owing to her grim and rather turbulent history, Raffaella is more than a little timid around strangers. Combining this with her small stature, her demeanor often reminds others of a small animal, even when forcing herself to act bold and confident. She'll carefully choose the classes that require the least amount of human contact possible, but study her own personal interests on the sly. She's passionate about the things she's interested in and is often buried in books, though sometimes this burial is more literal and also an accident.

She has some health issues that she won't talk about, and is prone to sleepwalking at all times of day and night, giving the Lamplighters a bit of a headache at times. Once somebody finally notices she's gone missing, she's often caught wandering the school grounds at night, wandering outside the school grounds, attending classes she's not supposed to be in while nobody notices her, and generally being truant or absent. Anyway, aside from these silly little hiccups (that totally aren't her fault), Raffaella is generally a well-behaved girl with flawless attendance and a completely clean disciplinary record (self-proclaimed).

Those who get to know her well will learn that she is a sweet thing who wouldn't hurt a fly. The most dangerous thing about her is her occasional sassy sarcasm when she gets super annoyed. Her tastes are generally very girly, loving all things sweet, soft, warm, fluffy, and cute. Oddly, she also seems to like scary campfire stories and monster tales; maybe she actually enjoys being scared? Though, she's a bit secretive about it since it doesn't match her image. Not the type to let a little bullying get her down, she's an indefatigable optimist who just wants to be accepted, and would travel to the ends of the earth with anyone who would welcome her presence in their life.


Her absentminded daydreaming and wandering causes all who are prone to worry no small amount of panic when her absence is noticed. Raffaella, for her part, doesn't seem to think this is a big problem and is a bit too comfortable with being isolated from others, given how vulnerable she is. She doesn't yet have a full appreciation for the dangers of the world, given that she's always had caretakers, even if sometimes they were reluctant ones. She knows precious little about the shadowy forces at work in Ersand'Enise, let alone on the grander scale of Sipenta itself. She tends to be absorbed in her own little world.

Though Raffaella is generally all smiles and comes across as childish, she is unexpectedly comfortable talking about people exactly how they are—warts, scars, missing limbs and all. She is under no such illusion that the world is a perfect fairy tale, or her its princess whom it revolves around. She thinks like a cynical person, but consciously chooses optimism, and this hidden shrewdness catches some people off guard. It can create distrust in her public persona, or create the illusion that nothing bothers her, which can be a problem if others decide that she can handle some mean remarks or being used as an emotional trash can for everyone to vent to. Truthfully, there are plenty of things that will bother Raffaella, but she bottles it all up inside for the sake of everyone involved. Sometimes, spills happen, which generally ends with her settling up on her "crying debt."

Raffaella seeks acceptance and emotional validation with a quiet and unspoken desperation. Her running away from home started as a cry for help, and not much has changed. Though it's generally assumed that she has no control over her sleepwalking, it tends to occur when she is running away from an interpersonal conflict or some bottled-up grief that she has yet to get out of her system. She hates conflict, and open arguments will usually have her freezing up and backing down, then running away to some isolated place to brood. Her troubled childhood left a void of warmth in her heart that she'll seek to fill with anyone who offers even the illusion of familial affection. Any "free hugs" on offer are usually more for herself than for others.

• Virangish (Fluent)
• Inipori (Fluent)
• Torragonese (Reasonably fluent)
• Avincian (Reasonably fluent)
• Revidian (Working on it)
• Perrench (Kinda shaky)
• Méatan (Y̵̡͟͞͏e̕͢ś̡͡ ́s͡i̶̛͝r̀͡ ̡͟ǹ̵͞ó̢ ̕̕҉̢s͏̸͏ì́͘r̶̀҉ ͠͞͏I͜҉̷'̶͡҉m̴̡͜ ҉̷̧̀h͏̵̀͢͢u̸̸̧̕͞n͟͟͞ģ͞r̵͝͝y̸̡͜ ̷̸͠Ǫ̕͟͏K͏͏ ̷̀͜͞I͟͜҉'̀̕̕̕͝m̶͜͜͡ ̕͡s͏̨́͜ǫ̵҉̷r̀́r̵̡͘͟y͟͟͏)

"M-Modeling? Um... I-If I don't have to talk, I guess it's f-fine..?"

A petite young lady of ethereal beauty with gentle and decidedly pink features: hair and eyes—courtesy of a little arcane parlor trick—and often cheeks to match. A mere 45 kg (99 lbs), standing at only 146 cm (4' 10"), she wears a school uniform that's a bit too big and covers her like a blanket. She has some odd taste in accessories that make her stand out from the crowd, which she wears in spite of her terrible shyness. She's the type of girl who likes to have a cute and fluffy animal in one hand, and a source of sugar in the other. She is rarely seen without either, but keeps her hands to herself whenever they're empty, folding them in her lap in a girlish way—or more commonly, inside her sleeves, as she gets cold easily. Despite her insatiable appetite and sweet tooth, she has a tiny frame, and her pale complexion makes her seem somewhat frail, like a gentle breeze might carry her away to some faraway place, never to be seen again.



Raffaella has studied several magicks under the tutelage of the Chamarine Order, primarily chemical. Her specialties are in swift movement by flight, illusions and concealment, and disruption of enemy consciousness—in other words, running and hiding. She can offer support as needed, but prefers to avoid fights altogether if she can. She can strengthen allies with internal chemical and create bandages using alchemy, but she isn't a trained binder by any means. Blood is gross and bones are creepy, so her medical knowledge is essentially nil. Her middling RAS is too low for Atomic or Temporal, and the forbidden schools are—well, they're forbidden, so!

"Loo~k into my eye~s... and smile! Blessing of Joy! How's that?!"

Raffaella has very few memories—and vague ones besides—regarding her original home or her true parents, and she only has them because the divorce took so long. Raffaella was born to a nobleman and a common mistress, and when it became clear to the woman that the birth of her daughter would not result in her ascension into the nobility, she abandoned Raffaella at an orphanage, as the young glutton was quickly becoming too much to care for. This would remain a problem as young Raffaella grew up, with very few interested in adopting her due to the widespread poverty of the area. As she watched all of her friends leave the orphanage (and her) behind, she did not understand why—but she did notice a pattern: the smallest and cutest tended to get snatched up quickly. Desperate to have a proper family and a home, she worked diligently on her appearance—makeup, magic, and eating less—until she was the smallest and cutest of all, despite her nightly habit of sleepwalking to the kitchen.

Finally, the day came, and for a few years she was truly happy. However, history would soon repeat itself as Raffaella could not hide her ravenous appetite from her caretakers indefinitely. Her happy home would quickly become a battleground, her adoptive parents frequently arguing over how to make ends meet. Overwhelmed, she began to spiral, and developed a pattern of running away from home to get away from the ongoing crisis. One day, to her horror, her adoptive parents seemed to have accepted that she'd vanished for good, as she overheard them talking to a traveling mage who explained what she was. It seemed like her adoptive parents didn't even care about her anymore, and were just glad that they wouldn't have to feed her anymore. It broke her heart.

Crushed, she returned to the orphanage, unable to face the false smiles she knew awaited her when she did return home—but the orphanage was much the same. The nuns seemed annoyed that she had returned. In a stroke of luck that was surely owed to her by this point, she didn't have to bear the scorn for very long: the same traveling mage who had been chatting with her adoptive parents just a few days ago happened to find her, and chose to adopt her. She was going to send her to a magic school in Inipor too! Assured that the new environment would help her heal, she departed for the traveling mage's home in Virang. Despite scoring rather low in RAS, the entry-level academy in Inipor accepted her application quickly. Her worries of not fitting in at this new place proved unfounded, as the miniature Méattan became a darling among the Zenos, who affectionately referred to her by the same nickname her new adoptive mother gave her, Küçük. It did, however, result in her receiving more attention than other students, which earned her the scorn of a few—but she always had a support network.



Most would say that Raffaella is an aimless girl. The one thing she believes she knows for sure is that getting married is out of the question, and becoming delinquent and living a life of crime doesn't suit her, so she'll need a job someday—but she's physically frail on account of a history of malnutrition, and ill-suited to physical labor. She loves to play the violin, but seems resigned to her inability to perform on a stage due to her desperately shy personality. When asked, she once told a Zeno some joke about being a "ghost writer" for someone destined to be famous. She loves baking and is determined to make the "sweetest desert ever." To this day, she blames herself for the divorce of her parents and all the familial struggles she's experienced in life, and is often seen in fervent prayer for the flourishing of any and every couple she encounters, earning her the nickname of "Ipte's Penitent." The nuns like to dote on her and make sure she never feels lonely again.



Raffaella, a commoner whose life has been turned upside down multiple times, owns very few possessions. Nuns of the Chamarine Order have provided her with a wide variety of pretty dresses and chic accessories, which seem prone to intermittently become lost items just like their ditzy owner. She does have a few curious things:


Use: A symbol of divine protection. She's never seen without it.


Use: Her singular weapon. Can be used to steal consumables from enemies trying to use them.


Use: A strange item, supposedly a gift from Vashdal. Sees use only rarely.


Use: It's sweet.




Use: Formerly owned by Ren Baykara, it is now in proper hands.


Use: The girl must navigate a den of snakes, and this item is a godsend.


Use: Eject button.


Use: Permanent debuff.


Use: Main set.

"The Eshiran girls gave me this... hat, thing? They were giggling. I don't like it when they giggle! I don't know what it mea~ns!"

Being cute is a privilege, and Raffaella is not against using it... in theory. In reality, she's far too shy to show off, but some consider that part of her appeal. While she won't be winning anyone over with a silver tongue, there's just something disarming about Raffaella's innocuous image that makes her easy to trust. Perhaps it's her meek and slightly clumsy personality, or maybe it's her gentle complexion and honest facial expressions, or it might be her warm and high-pitched voice, or the way she speaks her mind openly about the positive points of others. She loves pink, soft and fluffy things, cute animals, and is easily bribed with sweets—which she regularly sneaks in to any class whose teacher will tolerate it. Raffaella may be easy to look down on, but even for those who find her cutesy persona grating, she's hard to outright hate, especially when she's so eager to help others when asked... even if it's just a way to avoid awkward conversations sometimes.




While Raffaella is generally optimistic and not the sort of person who is "never okay," she does have a few issues, including some health issues that render her rather frail, a fact which is easily forgotten as she flies energetically from place to place. Raffaella prefers to use magic to fly rather than walk everywhere to conserve her energy, which makes the glutton mana type slightly more bearable. She remains a sensitive soul who is quick to get dragged into emotionally charged situations, even if it's something as mundane as a pet cat hit by a cart. She tends to run herself ragged for others at times, perhaps because it distracts her from her fear of abandonment. So long as someone thinks she's useful to have around, she won't be forgotten again.


"Küçük" literally means "small."

The right man in the wrong place can make all the difference.

---

---

Marco regained his youth by traveling to the past, but behind his young appearance lies the soul of a middle aged veteran. Because of the age gap between himself and his fellow students, he tends to give fatherly advice and act like the adult in the room, despite having the face of a rebellious child. Marco is generous towards youngsters and will often hand out snacks to the ones considers good kids.

Years of compounded experience have raised Marco’s thresholds for stress and fear to an absurd degree. He is the first in and last out of a life threatening situation, and no matter how bad things get he always maintains his composure. His courage was not given to him by birth, but grown out of necessity to fill the role he was assigned as a leader. Marco had to become fearless so that he could inspire others to follow him to their deaths.

Marco is a fervent worshipper of the five gods, and he holds the god of war in especially high regard. He reveres Eshiran not for his warlike nature, but for his hidden kindness which grants peace to the restless dead. Even though his role in the church hierarchy has changed since his early teens, Marco still finds time to spare to visit the cemetery to clean the graves and give offerings to the deceased.



Marco is a speaker of Revidian, Perrench, as well as Ramorghan, and he is able to read texts written in ancient Avincian.



Marco was a very late bloomer. In his 20s he grew up to be a walking slab of beef, but as a teenager he looks a lot younger than other people his age. Underneath his armor he has the muscular build of a trained fighter, but because of his childlike appearance from the neck up people tend to underestimate him and disregard his fatherly advice.

His younger self has light brown hair and eyes, and his height is approximately five feet eight inches tall. There are numerous scars covering his body left over from his days as a Century in training, but most of them have faded away from rigorous application of Binding magic.

Marco’s style of dress focuses on simple and practical attire, favoring clothes that are easy to move in, easy to replace or repair, and easy to fit a heavy breastplate and scabbard over in case it's time to fight. Almost all of his garments are made of cloth or leather and free of useless dyes and decorations.



As a time traveler, Marco has retained years worth of magical skill.

Because he joined the priesthood at a young age, Marco did not attend a traditional school like normal children do. Instead, he received a private education from the Quentic church. He attended a formal academy in Revidia sponsored by the Stresian order, where he learned reading, writing, and arithmetic until the age of 12, at which time he awoke to the gift of magic and was allowed to choose the order he wished to serve. From then on, all his studies revolved around religious scripture and magic, with a few electives included to make him more well-rounded.

Marco’s magical fighting style is a highly physical one. He combines Kinetic and Binding magic to dominate the battlefield and amplify his natural gift for war, employing both self enhancement and telekinesis to ensure his blade will always find its way to his foe’s heart. As a powerful Binder, Marco was called the “Human Weapon” later in life because of his ability to turn inert matter into a weapon at a moment’s notice. He could make himself an entire arsenal using nothing but raw stone, ore, wood, or even dirt. These weapons can reach comical proportions depending on the size of the enemy Marco is fighting. He once slew an alpha froabas by hurling a 15 meter long blade at its head with telekinesis and decapitating it. He has a thorough understanding of the various aspects of the Kinetic school, and he especially favors spells that facilitate armed combat.

Upon entering the exclusive ranks of the Century, Marco was also granted the rare privilege of instruction in the theories and application of Temporal magic. Because of its volatile effects on spacetime, Marco rarely uses this school for anything besides physical transportation. Using time travel and space compression to instantly kill his enemies or change the outcome of fate is something he only does as an absolute last resort.

Blood types: Ironblood, Exorcist
Magic Levels:
Magnetic - 2
Arcane - 1
Binding - 6
Chemical - 2
Kinetic - 6
Atomic - 0
Blood - 0
Temporal - 5
Dark - 0
Command - 0
Primordial - 0


Marco is an undercover Century initiate who was selected for a special assignment just after arriving at Ersand’Enise. As part of ongoing peacekeeping efforts within the city walls, he was secretly inserted into the student body over a year ago with a fake cover story so that he might provide protection and gather information on bad actors within the school. This operation began not long after the introduction of the Century to the city, as repeated threats to the safety of the school led to more and more drastic measures to maintain the peace.

His life began as the seventh child of a large Revidian family in a small township on the Mattarello peninsula. His father left the Revidian armed forces long before Marco was born and used his retirement pay to build a small home for his wife and children. They had a happy life and rarely encountered poverty, but the Terranova family was still quite poor. Because their father knew little else besides fighting and farming, the eldest sons were destined to inherit the estate while the younger children entered the service of the army or the church. Marco chose the latter alongside his older brother Luca.

Although he was better with a sword than his brother was, Marco was a gentle soul and refused to become one of the fighting arms of the Quentic church. When the time came to choose their respective orders, Luca went to train under the banner of the Unconquered Sun, while Marco quietly offered his service to the Brown Rezaindians. Instead of bringing death to others at the end of a blade, he found greater joy in ensuring that the dead lived on, forever carved in stone for generations to remember them by.

When he was 16 years old, Marco received news that would leave him heartbroken. He was to carve a new gravestone to commemorate the valorous life of Luca Terranova, the brave Century captain who tragically lost his life while covering his unit’s retreat from a distant battlefield. The loss of his favorite sibling left Marco with survivor’s guilt, and from that day he would always blame himself for not taking up the sword and fighting by Luca’s side. He renounced his vows and forced his way into the red monastery to become a true warrior, and with his brother's memory pushing him forward he was able to pass the Century initiation rites in a record amount of time.

In his own timeline, Marco would eventually go on to become involved in many different conflicts across Constantia and elsewhere. What he didn’t realize until it was too late was that the endless wars across the twin continents would eventually leave human civilization battered and broken, too helpless to defend itself from a powerful outside threat. That threat did come a few years later, as an ancient enemy quickly seized upon their best chance to destroy the Sirrahi’s creations for good. The humans that emerged from the ashes of a world war survived only to face off against a new nightmare: the war against the Knowers. It was a devastating conflict during which he achieved the rank of captain just like his late brother did, although by the time the honor fell into his lap, there weren't many troops left to command.

Though the remaining humans fought desperately alongside their yasoi and hegelan allies, there were few left who were strong enough to face the enemy. Because of the Knowers insurmountable advantage in magic, most of the allied armies were slain to the last unless they had the power of a strong mage to support them, and most of those were killed in action in the previous war. There was no hope of survival, and in a final desperate act to protect life itself, Marco committed the ultimate taboo and cast a spell that would send his consciousness back to the past, back to his youth when he was still a young Century recruit. With his knowledge of future events, there is now a small chance that he can help put an end to the constant warfare and change history for the better.


Marco’s mission is to change the course of history and steer humanity away from near extinction. After living through multiple wars involving both the human kingdoms as well as the alien threat of the Knowers, he has identified several turning points that could potentially save civilization from destruction. This includes the continued survival of the future members of the Hourglass Order, each of whom possesses a seemingly gods given talent that sets them apart from the other players of history. He has also realized the benefits of allowing the Traveler and his agents to accomplish their goals, and despite opposing them openly he is secretly supportive of their cause. Furthermore, there are several generals, politicians, and monarchs that he believes played a part in helping or hurting humanity’s chances of surviving the end times, and Marco plans to deal with them accordingly if they ever meet face to face.


To maintain his cover as a student, Marco was forced to leave behind most of his Century wargear and assume the identity of a civilian. Within his dorm he still maintains a set of light armor for protection on expeditions outside the school, and he kept his favorite sword for self defense. Marco has outgrown his reliance on magical trinkets due to his unfair level of strength, so his inventory of artifacts is quite small.

Save for a small stipend of Magi he receives for miscellaneous expenses, Marco has very little in the way of wealth as all his tuition, food, and essentials are paid for by the church. Consequently, his room is quite barren by the standards of the nobility who make up most of the student body.









For those who need a TL;DR (or find this sheet hard to read): Marco is a Century from 20 years in the future who has used personal time travel to go back to the past. He is an 18 year old with the face of a 14 year old and the personality of your dad. Due to repeated dangerous incidents within the school, the Century have provided him with a cover story and orders to attend classes with the other teens. He is using the freedom provided by this false identity in order to secretly alter world events and stick close to the main characters, who he views as key to saving history.

color code: 7b6c64

"Keep that up and I might confuse you for a hyco'yashtiil, yanii."

Despite being born a twin, Jaxan shared very little in common with his sister. Amyel was quiet, sensitive, and cautious while he was loud, blunt, and reckless. To those around him, he gave off the classic displays of a wild teenager in his youth. His overactive, cocky and brash attitude made him a handful. These aspects became worse whenever he masked his insecurities and fear.

Meanwhile, boredom drew out a different part of him. Lacking the stimulation, he'd become restless, apathetic and even impatient. He couldn't keep still during conversations that lasted longer than a few minutes. No matter how hard he tried, it always felt like it was out of his control. It got him in trouble with anyone unaware of his condition.

Like many yasoi, there's more beneath the surface. A kind heart, but one desperate to feel valued by others and longing for a sense of belonging. There are times that he is reminded of his diminishing mindset. It would stir the bitterness and anger as he tried to ignore it. Normally he'd mix native words in with his Avincian, but in a clear rage, he'll revert back to full Yarsese without realizing it.


❖[Eyes] Bright Blue
❖[Hair] Straw Blonde
❖[Skin] Fitzpatrick type I
❖[Height]6’0”
❖[Weight] 162 lbs.
❖[Physique] Lean
❖[Distinct Physical Notes] Natural redness across his cheeks.
❖[Style of Clothing/Accessories] Most of Jaxan's outfits are designed with comfort and stimulation in mind. The loose fitting tunic is light and doesn't irritate his skin. There's small embroideries of his own design on the cuffs. Mostly floral with some hidden animals in the pattern. Often he'd rub it between his fingers for comfort. He will tolerate any color, favoring red and black, save for white. Any time a speck of dirt appears, his attention is distracted instantly by it.

Across his waist is a belt with several leather pouches, all water proofed with a coat of beeswax. Each one is tied with several strings and on the top all looked to be a knotted mess. If tugged wrong, they will tighten and seal up immediately. Pulled the right way, any one of them could be opened and tightened back up with a simple jerk. An effective method to prevent theft.

In most situations, he would rather go barefoot than wear boots or shoes. He finds they hinder his ability to climb and constrict about his toes. It might also be that he had never found the right sort. To prevent wounds on his soles, he uses binding and blood to toughen the skin.


Talonese
Yarsese
Paggonian
Avincian


Manatypes: Unleashed, Lightbringer

Magnetic- 0 (Neophyte)
Arcane- 2 (Tyro)
Binding- 5 (Journeyman, Corporeal Healing)
Chemical- 3 (Apprentice)
Kinetic- 5 (Journeyman, Enhancement)
Blood- 5 (Journeyman, Fleshcrafting)

Thanks to his Unleashed, Jaxan's cognitive abilities are heightened. When he is fixated on a subject, his curiosity knows no bounds and he'll absorb all he can at extreme speeds. His favorite way of learning is hands on and direct experience over studying from a book. These experiments influenced the schools he later favored.

Kinetic, enhancement. It was natural due to his high activity levels and later the need to restrain manic addicts in the clinic. Having faster reflexes worked to limit the damage and often gave him an edge in defusing the situation.

Next was binding, medical. Alios, his father, was a good healer and passed some of those skills onto his children. Out of the twins, Jaxan showed the most interest in the applications of binding on the body. The fact both his sister and him had bizarre manas helped to cultivate that desire. A small part of him hoped by learning all he could, he might find a treatment for his condition. This path gradually led him into his final interest.

Blood, fleshcrafting. More specifically, the flesh regeneration spell called Gift of the Cat. It was far more effective- in his mind- to repair his wounds than binding. If he could do that with his flesh, maybe he could eventually learn to do it with parts of his brain.


Mother: Hera'thuun'melaan
Father: Alios'zesh'melaan
Twin Sister: Amyel'cheliish'melaan (Tethered, Astral Walker)

Born on Velles first, Jaxan and Amyel lived most of their lives in the city of Iobrad. A city of sandstone buildings, lush palms, and giant cactus bordered a long, winding river. Their mother, Hera'thuun'melaan, came to Yarsoc to settle down. She married a healer, Alois'zesh'melaan, and became a well respected judge. As parents, their methods in raising their children differed greatly. Mother focused on her children meeting high expectations, benefiting the community and following authority. She ruled the household with an iron fist wrapped up in a silk glove. Father valued forgiveness, patience, and gentle encouragement. He was a contrasting salve to her strict rules and often softened the punishments whenever he could.

Amyel's tethering came to light a few months after their tenth birthday. It started with complaints of unseen needles that ran up and down her feet. Weeks later, their father confirmed the diagnosis. Unlike in human society, she wasn't shunned or sent away. Instead it opened new opportunities for her to serve the people of Yarsoc.

Jaxan's magic sparked a year after his twin. During a game of jamball, his Unleashed kicked in and sent him crashing into the sands below. He woke up a day or two later in his father's clinic. It took his parents a few days to break the news about his condition. Excitement filled him as he explored the new limitations, but the truth dimmed that joy. He couldn't escape it and he would one day become a burden to them.

Fear often drives the young into reckless decisions and Jaxan was no different. One night, he overheard his mother and father having a tense conversation. Father refused to turn over an addict that was being treated in his clinic. The man was suspected to be involved in an aberration ring within the city. Desperate to prove his worth, Jaxan used his role at the clinic to meet the man and become close to him. It wasn't hard since his father didn't suspect Jaxan to break his trust. At the time, the boy wasn't thinking of the consequences that would follow.

Weeks later Jaxan attempted to sneak out and meet up with his 'friend'. Amyel caught him then threatened to snitch when he refused to listen to her. He still left. She tracked him down as he entered a run down building. Things went horribly wrong when someone created a black aberration. Several criminals managed to escape, but Jaxan and another boy became ensnared in its aura. Fearing her brother might die, Amyel drew from the aberration to save him.

His memories of the event are hazy, but the aftermath still haunts him. Amyel had overdrawn and nearly died. Father had his arm torn off when he attempted to subdue Jaxan's raging madness. Less than a day later, a white aberration had been brought in thanks to his mother's connections. As if Vyshta was rewarding or mocking them for surviving, they both gained an aberration mana type. Amyel got the most interesting one called Astral walker while he gained Lightbringer. This mana type sealed his fate as a healer and mother insisted he remain in the clinic. In her eyes, it was there where he made the most impact in Iobrad.

When the Tarlonese finally took over Yarsoc, they assigned a new governor. Over the following weeks, governor Esmii'alyan'taxoiya enforced numerous changes and soon sought out understudies. Amyel and he applied together. His sister rose quickly above the other candidates and refused to leave him behind. Their success allowed both of them to attend Ersand'Enise during the Sports Day event.

He knew only one of them was getting into the Yasoi outreach program. It should've been Amyel, but she sabotaged herself and let him outshine her. One of the teachers came to him with a form to fill out. The governor wasn't going to be pleased, but his sister reassured him she would be fine. Her last words pleaded with him not to ruin the chance she had given him.



Jaxan won't deny he wanted to be here. Every morning, he woke to a steady stream of sights, sounds, and more to feed his mind. Every day was different. Amyel's tethering would've gotten her into places he couldn't go, but she insisted he was the better option. She also saw he needed this badly. Without it, he might wither up from working the endless routine in the clinic. He hoped her faith and trust wasn't misplaced when she gave up her spot in the school. Failing her felt like a fate worse than death.

Even before the Tarlonese took over Yarsoc, Jaxan knew his future. He saw himself slouched over a wheelchair, brain dead and dying slowly. Even worse, he feared never making an impact that made up for it. To be seen, admired, and even valued among his peers before his mana type killed him off was something he yearned for. That fear and desire drove him onward to the next task.

Being part of the Yasoi outreach program, he was not allowed to slack off. There's an expectation of him. Any failure to meet it put him at risk of expulsion. It also gave him an excuse to explore the academy's vast knowledge over different magical subjects. With any luck, he hoped to find a treatment or cure like they did with Amyel.



Upon entering Jaxan's room, one's greeted with chaos. Clothes tossed into various piles from one end to the other. A small table filled with arts and crafts, some finished and others... far from it. One project he had been consistent in was the animals made from folded leaves. Their surfaces coated with sap and a few suspended from handcrafted strings throughout his room. The room’s appearance is a subconscious reflection of his mind, yet when you ask him where something is, it doesn't take long for him to find it. Everything has a place in his odd space.

On his person:

A long twig that he often flips, twirls, and taps upon various nearby surfaces.
A pouch of throwing stones.
A small book for his memory, thoughts, and more alongside a tin of charcoal.
A pouch for what little money he has.









Hexcode: None, too lazy.