Putting all my sheets together. [hider=Mage Slayer] [b]Name; [/b]Atheri Syvek [b]Age;[/b] Thirty two [b]Nationality;[/b] Euphian [b]Birthplace;[/b] Orhurst, Euphius Orhurst is a small settlement on the boarders of the Godwastes, used as a rest stop for patrolling soldiers who keep the mage tribes at bay. The economy of the town relies on the incoming money from the soldiers, and by extension mage hunters who rest there. [b]Affiliation; [/b]The Vigil, Yildeanic faith [b]Occupation; [/b] Mage Slayer [b]Favored God; [/b] Lady Yildeane [b]Weight; [/b] "Why would you want to know...?" [b]Height; [/b]5'7 [b]Build; [/b] Atheri is not a delicate flower or petite waif, a powerful woman with the body to match. Large hips and shoulders she sways while walking, a prominent chest she garbs in the finest cloths. On her forearms rest two black bands each, signifying the training she went through and eventually abandoned as the third & final set are nowhere to be seen. [b]Hair Style;[/b] Wavy locks run down her back, reaching just past her shoulder blades. When on duty, she pulls the hair around her face back and braids it back, usually letting the rest stay down. [b]Hair Color;[/b]Golden blonde [b]Eye Color;[/b] Grey blue [b]Facial Features;[/b] Atheri holds a heart shaped face, round eyes and thick cheekbones. [b]Personality;[/b] Not the politest priestess to ever walk across the world, Atheri is many things. She is proud, a fire burning in her chest that even Cibest would have trouble dampening. She is stubborn, rude, impolite, nonpleasant to be around. Many have been turned away by her harsh words no matter how sweet her voice is or how her hips sway. However, this isn't to say Atheri is a bad person. No, Morben and her late fiance would both say that her faults are just a small part of their friend and in the end, make her who they love to share a drink with. While kind words and tender caresses she cannot give, she will sit and listen to anyone who needs to let words spill from their chest in return she may slap or shout at her companion it is in her best intentions to try and get people to stand back up and try again. Of course, she will even offer to help them up as what Yildeane taught her to do. Her undying faith and good intentions smooth over her brashness, though maybe not her crude humor. [b]Clothing;[/b] Atheri is a creature of lavish and grander, making even Yildeane blush some say with how she drapes herself with the finest cloth and armor. While on duty, her armor is a strange mix; plate, chain mail all draped over with modified robes that are a callback to her days serving Yildeane as a priestess rather than a warrior. [b]Weapons; [/b] [list] [*]Halberd; Decorated white with polished steel [/*] [*]One handed flail; a simple weapon that rests on her hip[/*] [*]Heater shield[/*] [/list] [b]Miscellaneous Items; [/b] [b]Magically Talented; [/b] No [b]Skills;[/b] [list] [*]Close combat[/*] [*]Mounted combat[/*] [*][/*] [/list] [b]Biography;[/b] Orhurst is a town known in passing to soldiers and mage hunters who have wandered on the border between civilization and the Godwastes, teetering on the fine line the town has grown many costumes to keep the evils of the Gods’ at bay. Religion is the foundation, superstition its bread and faith its water. Atheri was born, only daughter and eldst child to the Syveks; a family who’s surname was common enough within Euphius with the ironic meaning of fair haired. She grew up in the hallways of the town’s only Inn, [/hider] --- [hider=Death Touched] [b]Name;[/b] Lyhal Nydnia [b]Age; [/b] 23 [b]Nationality; [/b] His ethnicity is mostly unknown to him, though he considers himself an Untuillian despite never having visited the country. [b]Birthplace; [/b] Godwastes, near Styroth forest. [b]Affiliation; [/b] The Gods, mage tribes. [b]Occupation; [/b] Servant of Nycyd [b]Class[/b] Death Touched [b]Favored Gods; [/b] Nycyd & Cibest [b]Weight; [/b] “Bloody eldst I don’t know!” [b]Height;[/b] 5’9 [b]Build; [/b] [b]Hair Style; [/b] [b]Hair Color; [/b]Russet (reddish-brown) [b]Eye Color; [/b] Intense red with a ring of hazel, though muted in comparison to the infamous glowing eyes of the Untuillians. [b]Facial Features; [/b] [b]Personality; [/b] [b]Clothing; [/b] [b]Weapons; [/b] Lyhal carries a bow common among his tribe, and is a great source of pride as he carved it himself. The body of the bow is made from a combination of materials, the most obvious however is the dark wood which has had carved into its surface an intricate pattern of swirling runes that pass into each other, strange letters seeming to hide within. Along with this he carries an assortment of arrows, some made while others were bought or stolen. [b]Miscellaneous Items; [/b] Herbs, needles, string, ink, pencils, a notebook, a flute, general supplies and food. Among a few other personal possessions. All carried either on his person or his horse, Verat. [b]Magically Talented; [/b] Yes [b]Attunement;[/b] Null. [b]Skills;[/b] [list] [*][i]Archery[/i] - taught as a child by his mother, Lyhal considers himself a great archer and it's a skill of great pride [/*] [*][i]Hunting & gathering[/i] - growing up in the Godwastes he has had to learn about the dangers of the lands, as well as what few gifts the God's have left there for those who persist[/*] [*][i]Medicine[/i] - son of a medicine woman, it's only natural he took up the craft[/*] [*][i]Reading & writing[/i]- a personal hobby, he has learned to read & write from many people, even knowing some Untuillian. His best knowledge is that of the ancient art of runes, symbols of power left by the Gods to concentrate their gifts. [/*] [*][i]Magic [/i] - Most within the Nydnia family are mages, Lyhal is no exception however... magic does not come as easily as it does for others. [/*] [/list] [b]Biography;[/b] You cannot start off Lyhal's tale without first telling of his mother, Awden Nydnia. A woman who herself grew up and lived on the Godwastes, she was an accomplished mage and a respected healer within her tribe. She was proud of her dark skin and vibrant, glowing eyes the color of the sun itself, all inherited from a land she was never destined to see but admired nonetheless. Awden was proud and strong willed, an adventures young woman who enjoyed her life of travelling and even fighting the mage hunters. Eventually though, like many wild creatures, she was eventually broken. A squad of mage hunters ventured into her tribe's territory, and being a young mage full of her own power, decided she could slay them all herself. Awden though, was wrong; she was overpowered by the hunters and was not given a quick end. Though she begged for death, Nycyd did not come and in the end wild magic of her own carved away at the land and at the mortal men's bodies. Though alive, she was not the same after the incident. Her fiery nature having been dampened. Lyhal was born many months later, to the calmer Awden. Sadly, her own Untuillian heritage was weak within the boy, his eyes barely possessing their unique qualities. With such dark beginnings to his life, one would expect a mother full of hatred for this child, a childhood filled with neglect and perhaps abuse. Lyhal has found memories of his childhood, especially the times he spent with his mother though he could not escape his origins his grandparents finding him to be a stain upon the family and even his tribe at large cast unfavorably glares at his back. Still though, compared to what could have been Lyhal had a wonderful childhood. Standing at his mother's side, learning and trailing behind her. His life was really uneventful, taking up Awden's mantle and helping her with healing as the group moved across the Godwastes, meeting other mages and people from many places. It was boring but peaceful, a time he some days wishes would return. The mage hunters featured little in his life, his tribe having moved further North due to the very incident that brought him into the world. How, and when, he became a Death Touched is... unknown. At the age of 19, Lyhal found his life having taken a drastic turn. Attacked by an aberrant Eaulmn, he was struck in the gut and should have died from the huge gaping wound and the blood loss. Somehow, he did not. He did not even drift into Nycyd's realm for a minute. And that was the discovery of his servitude to the God of Death itself. After Nyssir jumped into the man's life, it took a heavy downward spiral...[/hider] --- [hider=The Ancient Storm] [b]Name; [/b]Ryphai [b]Affiliation; [/b] The Gods, Tasdanaugh, The Ancients [b]Occupation; [/b]Envoy of Vysold, Keeper of The Library [b]Class;[/b]Ancient [b]Favored God; [/b] Vysold [b]Weight; [/b] [b]Height; [/b] [b]Build; [/b] [b]Hair Style;[/b] [b]Hair Color;[/b] [b]Eye Color;[/b] [b]Facial Features;[/b] [b]Personality;[/b] [b]Clothing;[/b] [b]Weapons; [/b] “My body and mind are all the weapons I need” [b]Miscellaneous Items; [/b] [b]Magically Talented; [/b]Yes [b]Attunement;[/b]Vysold [b]Skills;[/b] [b]Biography;[/b] [/hider]