Sir Gorur of House Gravelbeard - Knight, Dwarf, Tower & Hatchet, Noble, Libertarian Count Salezenathor of Hesse - Ranger, Noble, Super Horse Patrician Hankor Bluebeard - Capitalist, Loyal, Libertarian, Dwarf, Noble, Super Ship' Waldemar Von Richtig Kingdom of Runvall Acamen Hopsfield - White Mage
Personality: Unlike most dwarves, Gorun abides by many dwarvern traditions but understands those who either choose not to or follow different ones. Additionally, he is curious about other traditions and will also ask questions about them. He considers his sense of honor to be a major part of him, and is loyal to those who are loyal to him. He does respect rank, although he may grumble periodically about the order of things. He appreciates hard work and will not tolerate those who do not try.
He is talkative and cheerful most of the time, as he does not believe there is a point in silence. Politically, he appears to be something of a libertarian. He is quick to assign people to the friend or foe category, and will treat someone as if he has known them for years despite the time of their relationship.
Appearance: Short, Stout, and muscular, Gorun is the image of a dwarf. He appears to be about fifty, with some mild wrinkles going across his skin. His eyes are a dark gray, and when emotional the whites of his eyes will turn gold. Unlike most dwarves, he has a small tan indicating that he has spent some time on the surface. He sports a large beard, and all of his hair is a dark grey.
His house emblem is a gold double sided axe with grey beards extending from beneath the blades.
History: House Gravelbeard has historically belonged to the minor nobility within the capitol, using sons as either men-at-arms or minor supervisors of industry. Most Great Houses & Middle Houses are able to have their sons become squires at a young age and train one on one underneath the supervision of a knight. It is considered uncommon but not rare for a minor noble to be knighted for talent, as being a knight is something of skill, not blood.
Gravelbeard realized Gorun's talents in combat quickly, and sent him to military training at a young age. Originally hot-headed, angry, and ready for glory, Gorur learned about teamwork and the importance of respecting others as he trained with his peers. Like the rest, he followed orders to an incredible degree, believing that their military society would lead them to glory. He fought many battles and many friends died while trying to secure the deep roads for greater dwarvern expansion. However he countinued to serve with faith.
His House was eventually bankrupted and sent packing for a fortress on the most extreme outskirts of the kingdom, Lockstead. At this new place, humans and elves and many other creatures lived in a town outside the caverns where the dwarves slept. The area had a wealth of culture and initially Gorun was angry at it. Over time without realizing it he gained friends within the town. He married a halfling, Maruna. He continued to train and fight in minor skirmishes, and was eventually promoted from a man at arms to a knight after showing his skill individually in a difficult one. He was ecstatic. His questioning of dwarvern superiority left and he started to treat his non-dwarvern friends as inferior, including his wife.
Mid-Way through his abusive relationship, losing friends, and being a general ass a siege happened. The baron of the fortress ordered the doors closed to the rest of Lockstead, allowing all those outside to be killed. Gorun was stunned, shocked, and enraged at this action. Everyone could have been saved, but the baron did not care for the lives of the non-dwarvern people of Lockstead. Getting in a heated argument with the baron about this, the lord threatened Maruna and was killed in return.
After leading Lockstead to victory and taking the fortress for Gravelbeard, Gorun sent in a letter of resignation to the kingdom's administration and left with his wife for Sadia, leaving Lockstead in possession of his father, who banished Gorun for being dishonorable.
In Sadia Sir Gorun apprenticed beneath a Mapepo, Sirul, and learned the art of enchanting. After ten year's of peace the Dwarves sent for an assasin to kill Gorun and his wife. Sirul said Gorun was graduated and gave Gorun a pass to the free cities. Since then his wife has been in hiding and Gorun adventuring. Gorun has taken a squire, learned of a growing movement seeking to establish a constitutional monarchy within the dwarvern lands, and had three kids. The squire although not graduated tends to stick more within the free city affairs.
Martial Skills: It is Dwarvern Tradition for knights to become experts in a short and long weapon, with an expectation of being decent with them all. Usually these weapons are axes and hammers. Guardian This Dwarvern knight began his service as a man-at-arms of a greater house, often serving in shieldwalls. While many Dwarvern knights born in greater houses end up favoring the lighter round shield for one on one dueling, Gravelbeard learned the tower first and stuck with it even when knighted. Hitting Gorur behind his shield is considered an achievement even among knights. He tends to favor the hatchet for it's speed when using the shield. He prefers to draw fights out when fighting this, to tire his opponents and learn how they fight. Reacher Gorun uses his halberd as his medium ranged weapon, allowing him to pound through most opponents defense with sheer force then stab or slice them. Useful for breaking through shield walls. He is an expert in this field. Single Sword Gravelbeard is not an expert with the short-sword, although when fighting without a shield it is his small weapon of choice. Legendary Conditioning Wearing armor twelve hours a day means swimming with it is normal. It is not uncommon for dwarvern knights to fall asleep on the ground in their well padded helmets. You get used to it. Descent With Almost Everything Else He has a working knowledge of the mechanics of most weapons
Passive Skills: Noble He can hold and act in almost all courts in the land, respecting the customs of others while not submitting to them. Miner He is a dwarf. Stonesense While not as good as expert miners, Gravelbeard has an incredible sense of direction while underground. Scholar Studying enchanting forced Gorun to learn reading and enjoy it. While not a professional, he is somewhat well learned.
Magic Skills: Legendary Enchanter What is known is that his armor can sustain a ridiculous number of blows before failing.
Lustro, the gold coin of flame: Engraved with many symbols, it gathers heat around it for several days until ordered to release energy. Several commands can release different amounts of built up heat, between starting a fire, boiling some coffee, or using it's full strength as a 'grenade'. It can take quite a while for it to recharge however, unless placed into a furnace or other heating mechanism.
Inventory: Belt Mythril Sword, Rope Coil, a few pouches for loose items, a mug sized and seemingly never ending keg. Back Backpack with a pickaxe and hachet tied to it, containing larger items and a foot long portable hole with engravings. Other Steel Plate armor with many engravings on the surface, along with a chain-mail hauberk beneath it to close the gaps. Mount Steel Tower Shield (Featuring Hose Crest), Halberd, and tent. He ain't carrying that.
Other: He loves apple pie almost as much as he loves ale. Remember, he is a dwarf.
Count Salezenathor of Hesse, Vassal of Talos, Sworn to the Black Order
Bio Count Salezenathor was born as the younger brother of the current Duke Ironclast of Hannover. Ironclast and Salezenathor were opposite in some ways: Ironclast preferred to fight close and be comfortable with the masses, while Salezenathor preferred to fight from a distance and only open up around smaller groups. For the reign of their sickly father however, they complemented each other in maintaining the house. They became better friends as they became worked more closely.
Their father, realizing his death was approaching, wrote in various gifts to each of his children. This included an Shardbow for Salezenathor and a magical sword for Ironclast.
When illness finally killed their father, the duchy went to Ironclast and some ducal lands went to Salezenathor as a county. For a while they remained friends, but then Ironclast got married and had a child, and then another one the next year. Realizing that while his brother remained, his second born would have no lands to inherit. Sal's brother, wanting to maintain his line as noble, started trying to get rid of Sal. After a few minor skirmishes within the duchy the Count left, naming Ironclasts second son regent and heir.
Salezenathor signed up with the Black Order, maintaining his title but losing the lands as a requirement. Ironclast's murderous intentions remained however as he thought Salezenathor was just being clever.
While accomplishing nothing extremely note-worthy, Sal has started building a reputation as an excellent marksman and a skilled politician. He has hunted in the evil woods for monsters of small to mid size as practice though, waiting to jump on the big game for when he as accurate with his bow as with his eye.
Age: 40
Fighting Style Sal prefers to maintain a distance, shooting his arrows with great skill. If he has to he will use a simple knife on them.
Skills Marksman: Salezenathor can shoot far and accurately, or mid distance and quickly depending on his bow. Horseman: Salezenathor can ride like a knight, as comfortable on horseback as on foot. Politician: While not able to speak to crowds, Sal is clever and in a conversation involving less than five people will get the better of the others. Singer: Every camp needs a bard. Sneaky: Although not a tracker, Sal can hide in the shadows.
Equipment Icon. Rankoric Horses are bred for speed and intellect, moving faster and longer. Small in stature yet strong, they have one defining characteristic: they choose a person and stick with them. They will only obey commands from that person, will fight to defend them, and die for them if necessary. They also live to be as old as the person who rides them, usually dying no later than a year after they do (although sometimes they change to a close friend, making some live for stupidly long lengths of time). Icon chose Sal when Sal first left for the Order, in a way a sign from God that this was the right choice for him. Boots of Silence: Make no noise as he walks. Cloak of Weather Resistance: Anything natural has no effect on the wearer: a strong storm will not hit them, rain will not touch them, and ants will not bother them. Monsters and magic will still hit the wearer though. Folding bow: A bow that folds at the middle in a unique manner, allowing Sal to carry it discretely in his cloak if necessary. Made to shoot quickly and at a mid range. Shardbow: A bow of massive strength and size, it is theorized that from the Age of Gods this was a weapon that brought down deities. When drawn, it will never snap no matter the tension, and it seems to shoot exponentially harder the stronger it is pulled, meaning if something tugged the string REALLY hard... (Note: For a human this will only be maybe twice to three times as strong as normal, so he won't be shooting a railgun) Jester: A magical flute. Salezenathor is still trying to figure the damn thing out.
Age: 32 Race: Dwarf Appearance: Hankor in body structure is much like the average dwarf, standing at around three feet tall and having enough muscle to fight a much larger creature or work in the mines. His face has the wrinkles of a man who has been exhausted from work some time ago but the fine keeping of a man who has not worked recently. Bluebeards silver eyes are often seen in a frown of concentration, staring at books and records and the such through the spectacle that is over his right eye.
All of the dwarf's hair is a dark grey blue, an obvious abnormality that has given him attention of both the generous and the malicious sort throughout his lifetime. As a nobleman, he keeps his beard finely braided into about ten different braids, with the largest ones on the left and right, each braid held into place by a silver ring on the end. His mustache curls upward at both ends, while the hair on his head is shorter and falls down easily in a neat fashion.
His head is often adorned by a stainless steel circlet adorned with a mana stone held firmly in place by 'claws'. Hankor likes to wear fine clothes, often times with many pockets for various reasons, but most of the time trimmed with silver and showing his house crest on them. Overall, his appearance is a noble one and gives him the attention a noble deserves. The Bluebeard house crest was made by him, the first nobleman in the family, a triangular design with silver lightning flashing over a background the color of his hair. Magic: Electric
Personality: Proud to the point of arrogance, Bluebeard is a hardworking noble who considers money to be one of the more important things in life. Only a few loyalties that he holds are above that of cash, so Hankor has only made a few friends over his lifetime. However, he does reward those who work hard for him with the money they deserve and this fair pay has earned a good reputation among some of the dwarvern populace, often leading to competitions for jobs on the Brassheart. (He is obviously a capitalist) Hankor is however careless with his own safety and overly bold in some moments to the point of stupidity. He worries often about his appearance, something that began because of his blue hair. Politically, he is a libertarian and acts as a representative for that party in the parliament of the dwarvern legislature, an obvious standout from the normal conservative beliefs that he political system works for.
Strengths Wealth, and the strengths that come with it. Although not a genius, he is very quick and quite well learned. He might as well have midas touch. Weaknesses His political views are some of the least common, and this brings royal enemies. Although he is average in strength for a dwarf, he is below average in weapon usage for both this group and among most nobility/ He doesn't get along with poor people, mostly because of his arrogance. His blue beard makes him obvious among a crowd. Can be stupidly bold.
Personal Equipment: A mace, his clothes, his purse, his spectacle and the modifications for it. He expects other people to do the heavy lifting.
His Lordships Holdings: Brassheart, the home and the ship of the Patrician. It takes ten to crew it minimally, maintains twenty-five, but could hold around a hundred if cramped. In the rear is the main engine, using a paddlewheel that can be retracted inwards in order to protect it from weather or make it easy to get in a harbor. The entrance on it is large for easy loading for both supplies for the ship and goods to be transported elsewhere. The hull is of dwarvern (blue) bronze, a heavy and durable metal that is not easily destroyed. A ballroom is located in the front, surrounded by tough glass that provides a safe but pretty view of the sea. The ship is spacious most of the time, for additional cargo and just in case scenarios. On the back is the lookout tower topped with the office and bedroom of his lordship. Although the ship has cannons for defense, it is most definitely not a warship and a fleet of determined enemies could easily sink it with minimal losses. Rumors say that it could go underwater, but none of the crew members can accept or deny this.
Shares of smaller merchants and money abundant.
A noble title and the vote in the dwarvern legislature it brings.
Bio: Bluebeard grew up in a middle class family of blacksmiths. They were neither rich nor poor, but they all had the trademark blue beards and for some reason everything made or designed by their hands would have a mild blue tint to it. Although his family was smart, Hakon excelled at creating things. Eventually he became an entrepreneur in dwarvern society, designing and crafting machines of war, commerce, or resource extraction for the dwarvern peoples. This began to bring him wealth, and things accelerated over time.
While many may think his blue hair would have a large effect on his life, it really didn't. Sure it gave him some more noble attention for his inventions, but his work spoke for itself louder than any beard could. Eventually he managed to save up supplies to design his own ship to trade with. It took maybe fifty years but eventually he gained a rather massive proportion of the world's wealth.
Eventually, Bluebeard gained the noble title of Patrician by purchasing it. He built Brassheart with the majority of his wealth, and since then has carted the world's nobility around for joyrides and obviously politics. However, he is up for more adventure mostly because of boredom.
Fighting Style: Waldemar fights primarily with a revolving rifle with a scope. The rifle can shoot 6 rounds before needing a reload, and is long enough to be reasonably accurate. He has a buckler and hatchet on his belt for up close and personal boarding however.
Other stuff: Richtig knows some medicine from his time in the monastery.
Personality: Waldemar finds it difficult to communicate his ideas because of his foreign background. This has lead to him being quiet, although without a language barrier others find Waldemar to be very talkative. Girl crazy. Enjoys afternoon naps. Hates religion.
History: Waldemar was born into a noble family as the fifth son. The father, knowing that he didn't have enough to give all five children a fair share of inheritance, sent Waldemar off to the monastery. Initially appreciating the monks and their ways, Waldemar grew to hate the strict life and wanted to be seperated from it as much as possible. Waldemar stayed for a year before he hit sixteen and wanted nothing more to do with the holy life.
Richtig ran back to his house, and pleaded with his father to let him stay as a guard. The father, angry, handed Waldemar the family rifle, a bag of coins, and a uniform and told him to be a guard of the nation.
After the horrors of a brief war, Waldemar abondoned a career in the army and joined Melody's crew by chance in a far away port.
House Ehren His Majesty, King Baldur the Good, 40, Sovereign, has maintained a good and stable reign. A warrior of renown and a good judge of men, although too passionate for his own good. Her Majesty, Queen Consort Marina, 32, Wife, in love with Baldur and a former beauty. His Royal Highness, Prince Wolfram the Third, 20, Son, wants to give Runvall economic and administrative reform His Highness, Prince Franz the Second, 18, Son, wants to be an adventurer and fix the world's problems. Her Highness, Princess Alicia, 18, Daughter, downright gorgeous and wants to get married. Twin of Alicia. Her Highness, Princess Renate, 13, Daughter, precious gem of Baldur and still innocent. His Highness, Prince Swen the Griffin, 35, Brother, wants to gain his own title and form an elite order even among the elite. Celibate.
People Almost completely humans.
Everyone loves me, but I am honorable to a fault. I have tons of elite heavy knights, a large amount of decent archers, but no infantry. My realm is well developed, but I am decentralized. Kingdom 6 Clean Streets Fair Law Beloved By the People Friends with the Nobles Honorable Folk Developed Infrastructure Military 8 Jousting lords Trained troops Heavy Armor Show of War Good Equipment Awe-inspiring fortifications Knights +1- The elite portion of Runvall's military is much larger than the elite portion of other nations without any loss to their quality. Rankorian Breed +1- the horses of Runvall are exceptionally intelligent, unnaturally fast, and incredibly strong. Economic 2 Caravans Agriculture Downfalls +8 Terrible Boats Infantry? +2 - Although Knights can fight reasonably on the ground, Runvall will not levy peasantry into infantry regiments. (They can be archers however) This can make holding ground after seizing it... rather a challenge. Decentralized +1 - Starting the game each city is controlled by a vassal (so I have 4) constituting about 60% of realm power. However there are good relations. Defender of the Weak +1 - Runvall is all about honor, and I will take a hit to stability if I don't help defend weaker nations against predatory larger ones. However, this doesn't require me to change sides mid-war. Small Army +1- My total army size is about 70% of a similarly sized nation. Siege? +1 - It could hurt innocents! Of course we won't!
History Runvall was originally a few independent farming towns out in the unclaimed wilderness. A thousand years ago, dragons and all sorts of mythical beasts started to show up out of no where and terrorize the villagers. Knights and adventurers came to the area, seeking to make a living by fixing the peasant's problems. Over time 5 major forts of operation were built to act as bases of operation in purging the lang of great beasts. Eventually merchants and other peasants started to build up cities around these areas and seek a profit by maintaining the forts. This built friendship and dependence on both sides of their relationship and the values that define Runvall to this day.
Generations passed and eventually the vast majority of the great beasts were driven out or slain, and there was much rejoicing. The question of "now what?" arose. The knights could go home, but after spending two hundred years purging the darkness of Runvall they realized Runvall was home. The knights could go conquer, but they were tired of fighting. So the knights stayed with their keeps and continued doing what they had always done - keeping the land clear of darkness, fighting bandits, or going off elsewhere and then coming back home with their paycheck. Eventually leaders for each of the forts were elected based on deeds, and the forts combined into Runvall.
Over time government developed, and due to the continuous state of peace the land developed into a healthy society where farmers could profit, knights could be just, and infrastructure could be developed. Recently however, a debt has hit the throne because of a drought that passed through the land. Taking out loans to support the peasant class and prevent mass starvation was worthwhile, but expensive. Traditions & Culture Defend those who cannot defend themselves! Triumph over those who wish to spread darkness! If we stay stalwart in our conviction, we will make this world good!
Military The Runvall military is well equiped, trained, and motivated. While smaller than most armies, they can pack a punch if used with an ally. Alone, Runvall faces several difficulties.
The only peasants that fight with the Runvall army are the archery corp. While well equipped and somewhat trained, they are by no means re-known. About two thirds of the army in wartime is filled with longbow levies trained to shoot in volleys and provide support for the knights.
Everyone else who fights is a knight. They have a strong military tradition focused around chivalry, loyalty, and honor. Incredibly motivated by the Task, their morale is intense. This is the major feature of the Runvall military and is what makes it a pain in the neck to fight.
First, the knights have Rankorian horses. These horses, possibly spawned by magic, are difficult to compare to normal horses. They can carry heavy armor without a problem, can be aggressive, and can go incredibly fast.
The knights usually charge first with lances, capable of shattering all but the most elite heavy infantry. Then they fight with heater shields and longswords, using the horses and their maneuverability to their advantage. Killing a knight on one of these horses is a difficult task - the knight and horse are both wearing full plate armor to help deflect arrows.
When fully armored, it is difficult but possible for opposing light horsemen to be able to catch up to these heavy knights. However, you still have to kill these elites. Seriously don't bother running away. If necessary a horn will be sounded and the knights will return to get new lances and once again do an incredible charge.
Runvall also runs excellent supply caravans in peacetime, and that practice helps with wartime as well. The ability to keep troops well fed and watered is something Runvall is known for - many armies have to pillage the land they are in to sustain themselves, but the caravans of Runvall make that unnecessary for the knights. Overall, the knights make the Runvall military maneuverable, devastating, and quick to get around.
One of the reasons that Runvall is able to maintain off of caravans though is that the army is small. Compared to a nation of it's size, Runvall only has about 70% of their numbers. This helps keep coffers full and peasants from dying, but makes maintaining a drawn out battle somewhat of a challenge.
Additionally, the job of the knights is to defend the weak. That means not sending the weak in front of you as infantry as cannon-fodder. The Runvall infantry consists of knights whose horses have died on the field of battle and are forcing a fair fight from the ground.
Finally, Runvall has no experiences with siege warfare - this kingdom was made in peace, not conquest. While the castles and forts of the old orders are incredibly strong, offensively Runvall has no idea about what to do.
These weaknesses force Runvall to work with an ally to be able to hold ground or take land. Luckily, Runvall has a good reputation as an ally and can be depended upon for cavalry support.
Economy
Reputation Known as honorable to a fault, a dependable ally in both peace and war, and a bit out of place in this world.
Bio: Paladins on the continent of Corthan exist in three ways: belonging to a holy order, living in a form of noble house called an ascendancy, and by pledging themselves to a kingdom's Archpriest to defend the realm. Normal Paladins are called Brightness, elites are known as Brightlord, heads of a branch are referred to as Master and the leader of a holy order is known as Grandmaster.
Ascendancys pass down nobility to any member that becomes a Paladin, a Cleric, or a Crusader (A normal knight who fights in a holy war). They are dedicated to keeping major great beasts and demons out of the continent at least until a Holy Order can arrive as a more permanent solution to the problem.
The Ascendancy of Heilig was born three hundred years ago when the knight Sir Xanviar slew a troublesome archdemon and pledged his life and the lives of his heirs to combating evil and chaos within the continent. Receiving Holy power after his oath, Brightlord Xanviar spent the rest of his life combating evil and slew many evil beasts, became a powerful Paladin, and collected several Legendary items.
Over time, Heilig has grown in both membership and strength. Recently, about 30 Paladins exist within the house of Heilig with about 5 legendary items. With only 25 legendary items worldwide, it was not uncommon for other Ascendancy's to challenge Heilig for them. Three years ago however, the Holy Order of Trost showed up and slaughtered five-sixths of the members and stole all the legendary items.
One of the surviving Paladins was Burkhardt. Upon questioning how the church could authorize such a maneuver, Burkhardt began questioning the standard rules he had learned regarding his powers. Upon asking monarchs to retaliate for such an offense, he questioned why they didn't uphold their oaths. Eventually Burkhardt placed the white wings on his helm, symbolizing that he had abandoned the law and had become a Paladin of Freedom (Only about 2% of all paladins do this. Very illegal). Talented but nowhere near the best, Burkhardt has a lot to learn.
His goals are vengeance against Trost, and vengeance against the king.
Appearance While not wearing robes, Acamen appears to be flawless. That is not to say he is handsome, just to say that no blight or blemish or disfigurement has touched his body. Compared to most men, the white mage is smaller than his reputation, standing at a modest five-foot six and lean in build. However, that build is 145 pounds of pure muscle from his many years of traveling. His light olive skin indicates than he was initially from the south, but his recent travels up north have slowly drained away his native coloring. The white mages eyes and hair are both a brilliant gold, probably a result of an overuse of white magic.
Age: Fifty Six Race: Human Gender: Male
Rise to Power Born into the peasantry, Acamen's was the son of a brewer. Acamen could be said to be part of the middle class, so being friends with some of the more well-off children was not uncommon.
The future white mage had been childhood friends with Maruna, the daughter of the local baronet. As they approached the early teenage years the two started to become more romantic and the baronet split them apart upon being informed that they had been holding hands and kissing. Despite the possibility of being executed, Acamen walked straight up to the lord's manor and accused him of being unfair. After all, this was true love. The local baronet, sympathetic to Acamen, stated that the reality of the world was that Acamen was the son of a high quality brewer while Maruna was nobility. The lady had already received a marriage offer from a thirty-something year old knight who had taken lands in a recent war.
Acamen stated that Maruna wouldn't be happy with the knight, which the baronet agreed to. So the baronet made an offer; if Acamen could prove himself more manly and bring along a larger dowry than the knight could offer, Acamen could take Maruna's hand in marriage. Acamen vowed he would be back by the end of the week. The future mage immediately went to the tavern his mother ran, the village laughing at the young man.
Acamen returned with five times the knights drowry at the end of the week. The baronet, surprised, asked how Acamen acquired so much gold. Upon summoning a golden staff of light engraved in draconic runes, it became clear that Acamen had defeated the dragon god of light. The baronet was glad to allow Acamen to join hands with his daughter. The village threw a party for them, singing praises to their new hero.
Two years later Acamen broke up with Maruna because she had become a bitch. Her reputation as the hero's girl made her gradually become insufferable. Acamen, wanting to avoid the fallout, left home at sixteen to explore the world.
The white mage immediately met up with an angel, also named Maruna, and after much confusion started traveling with her. Over time, they defeated the dragon gods of water, fire, and darkness. They acquired artifacts from each of them along with a ridiculous amount of wealth, on the sole condition that Acamen never explained to anyone how the pair defeated the dragon gods. The angel, although initially annoyed that Acamen had defeated one of her gods, eventually grew to appreciate the young man. Maruna started to cook the mage dinner, sing him songs, and take care of him.
Ten years had passed, and the angel eventually gave up and simply asked the white mage what their relationship was. The white mage blinked, assuming they were just good friends, and she was simply being nice to him because she was an angel. After some violence and a little convincing, they were married. Acamen was twenty seven.
Years passed and the pair took down many beasts, great and small. They fought in the Schattenwald over the years. They healed the wounded. They cured great kings of ailments no other could. Eventually they had a child. After raising her for ten years the pair returned to adventuring, stepping up their game. Partially wanting to impress the other and partially wanting to impress their daughter, the parents would head into more and more dangerous quests. Their reputation grew. After confronting an entire undead army together in Schattenwald, Maruna died in Acamen's hands. The forty four year old mage ended his career on the spot.
Combat Skills Acamen is a masterful white mage. Not just a simple healer, Acamen is adept at calling upon both his own strength and those in the heavens to smite those who stand before him. He can enhance allies endurance, allowing them to fight longer. He can cast heavenly chains upon those who he wants to capture or who are moving too damn much for him to be able to cast a major spell on. He can temporarily allow himself to fly, granting him a bird's eye's view of the battlefield. These are just a few examples of his white magic.
The Exemplar also has learned the spear well, but most of his strength is because of the weapon itself and not natural talent.
Hobbies Brewing - Sometimes, Acamen wants to experience the nostalgia of his home town. Singing - Having learned it from his wife, this is one of the things Acamen learned from her over time. He sometimes does it while he fights. Games - Want to play tafl? Acamen will be your player. Melee fighting - While having little talent in the area and incapable of acquiring divinity, Acamen has always enjoyed the tales of knights. Reading - He is a Magician and therefore gathering knowledge is essential.
Your Gear The Brilliant Gold - While normally a staff, the points can join together at the top to form a spear. This staff enhances white magic and is the sign that Acamen defeated the dragon god of light. He holds this weapon dear. The Purity - The robes Acamen wear give him resistance against mind altering affects and combined with the small amount of armour beneath grant him protection against melee attacks. Somehow, they seem to weigh only a few pounds. Formally worn by an archangel, the dragon god of darkness granted these to Acamen The Crusafix - A holy cross enhancing his abilities to call upon the heavens, this formerly belonged to Maruna. He holds it sacred. The Crimson Flame - The legendary sword of fire granted by the fire dragon god. Having never actually used it, Acamen is looking to give it away.
Your retinue Thirty Golden Lances - Heavily armored and riding white horses, these Paladins are loyal to Acamen after his deeds in the name of the dragon god. Many of these men were personally trained by Acamen. Ezekala - Named after her grandmother, Ezekala is Acamens twenty five year old daughter. An angel, she wears her mother's robes and wields her sword. She has a special hatred for darkness and is somewhat immature (she is mentally sixteen due to being an angel). However, she is incredibly strong.
Retirement Acamen's twelve year retirement rotated between his parent's tavern and the tower that he and Maruna lived in. At his parent's tavern he focused on raising his daughter and enjoying himself. The white mage learned to brew and how to run a buisness, and enjoyed life in a more casual manner. He remet with Maruna, and found out that she was happy with her marriage to the knight. After catching up, they rekindled their friendship. Maruna is somewhat of a mother figure to Ezekala, and advises her on life.
At his tower, the white mage continues to study and trains his daughter along with the next generation of Paladins and Lightcallers. Regarded as one of the best teachers, many of his former students are excited to see him in action and are eager to travel to the north.
It is rumored that sometimes he visits the dragon gods he defeats, but that is not certain.
Your family With both his parents still alive (mostly due to being around a healing bulb) and his daughter, Acamen has his family that he loves. Many of his students are like children, and will visit him from time to time in order to tell him of their accomplishments.
Age: 47 Human (Faucher) Station: Former Sergeant of the Guard, now gambler.
Powers
"Blessed" by Morcar, Burnell isn't sure weather or not he enjoys or hates his powers.
Sensory Insanity Burnell has the power to manipulate very large groups of sentient peoples sensory experiences, allowing him to effectively create extremely realistic illusions. Unfortunately, it doesn't work on animals or the mentally unstable, usually making them aggressive towards Burnell. Additionally, it takes great effort to cast it individually, making guard dogs very, very annoying.
Deep Pockets Guildamars also has the power to store a virutlally infinite amount of items in his pockets. The more items to put in, the harder they become to 'find'. However, the more pockets he has the more 'entrances' he has to his pocket realm. Right now, it takes him between three and ten seconds to draw any item, depending on what he is looking for. The only downside is he can't use any pockets normally, making pickpocketing just another way to enter his own inventory.
Probability Guildamars is able to manipulate luck, although changing it requires some luck, forethought, and preperation. Without proper care, Burnell has realized he can get very, very sick for trying to change the luck in a gambling match, much less a battle. With proper care, he has stood in front of a shower of arrows and not get hit. Additionally, he is capable somewhat of detecting the probabilty of success in a proposed plan of action, although not the outcome.
Mireille Aigle Not the princess sort of pretty, she is extremely attractive but still approachable. Old enough to be considered but young enough to be in her prime, she appears to be about twenty. With a few freckles and some cuteness, she knows how to exploit the hearts of men and understands how others view her. A master of stealth and cleverness, she is capable of transforming into a bluebird and gathering information from above. The only appearance of this in human form are strands of blue hair mixed blended into her black mane. Bound to Burnell's soul, she always knows his location and therefore is able to tease him eternally.
Description
Following the 195 pounds of muscle moving Burnell's 5'10'' frame is a thick black cloak trimmed in blue. While a bit taller than average, Burnell remains approachable in both conversationally and visually. First approaching him one would notice the absurd amound of pouches this man has, possibly taking him for a peddler. His belt is completely lined in them, and fine needlework reveals they won't be going anywhere soon. The inside of his cloak has some very long ones, and his pants have probably fifteen pockets total.
Subtle laugh lines would next draw one's eyes to his lightly tanned skin worn from travels and cheerful green eyes and curly brown hair. A conversation quickly reveals that while this man won't force his knowledge on you, he is more than willing to deliver more than you ever asked for. Burnell's slight frown at his companion's teasing is an obvious lie, and he secretly enjoys the comfort and companionship that such casual conversation reinforces.
If meeting him in the tavern, he seems to be a daredevil, willing to make ridiculous bets. If on the road, he travels more cautiously than most, reinforcing that no amount of money is worth one's joy.
Biography
Blessed by a god that loves trickery and cleverness, and despises authority and tyranny, Guildamars would be a beacon of freedom for the oppressed if he made any claim for it.
Childhood Son of an adventuring couple, Guildamars grew up on the streets of the majestic city of Villeroi. With some depotism, he was allowed to act as he beating pole for many a noble child. While not on the path of knighthood, Burnell managed to see many different attitudes reguarding combat. In his early adolecence he trained with the city guard, and joined when he turned fifteen.
The new guard was enthusiastic about upholding the king's justice. When not patrolling the streets or looking over the walls, Guildamars could be found at a tavern with his co-workers enjoying some ale and spending a constant trickle of funds on card games with both friends and strangers. However, no woman managed to capture his heart and Burnell was enthusiastic about his work, always looking to take on extra hours and do more than his fair share to keep the streets safe. His hard work was noted and the nineteen year old was promoted to sergeant.
Evidence A few years passed with the usual workflow, although eventually Burnell was assigned to a rather high end case. Knowing of his loyalty to the crown, the Captain of the Guard assigned Burnell to personally investigate the robbery of a chailice owned by the crown. They suggested that he start his investigation with a noblewoman only three years younger than himself. He searched for weeks, looking for anything that could be used to damn the woman. Overtime began to stress the young man out as he was unable to find any sort of evidence that could be used to convict her.
Eventually the Captain pulled the Sergeant into the closet and heavily implied that there certainly was evidence. Burnell discovered the real reason for her investigation was due to the noblelady's activities with the princess. While legal due to a recent king's reign, such activities were considered taboo. The nobleladies activities were an embarressment among the nobility and the crown was being mocked. Disgusted and seeking to uphold the justice the king sought, the sergeant delivered damning evidence to the courthouses. The fabricated evidence resulted in a guilty sentence for the noblewoman.
The nineteen year old girl watched his green eyes as the sergeant drove the spear into the noble's heart. The King smiled. The crowd cheered. The girl anguished. The Gods watched.
Cursed Two years passed as Guildamars did more questionable work. The sergeant grew closer to the king. Riches were involved. The king's justice was upheld.
Morcar noticed the lack of guilt in the young man. What the king called neccessary evil is what the god defined as authoritarian tyranny.
A knock on the door revealed the noblewoman on his doorstep, smiling innocently at him. The only change was small strands of blue hair, but her eyes were the same. Terrified, he stabbed her again, and hid the body. A week passed, and she arrived once more. He forcibly tore off her clothes, and noticed the stab was gone. He stabbed her again, blood spraying while she screamed.
He started to see her on the streets, on top of roofs, purchasing from the same merchant in the market, cooking his food. More stabbing. His work slowly crumbled as he couldn't sleep. It took him three months to admit to himself that he was guilty, and that the tyranny of the king was unjust. The sergeant resigned his position and left the city, and the absolute monarch was not overly pleased with that.
Travels While turning around, Burnell could still see the girl trailing him. After a week of silence, the former sergeant finally spun around and begged for forgiveness, offering his life as penance for his crimes. The girl looked at him confused, not understanding. The two began to travel together, and overtime he realized his powers and the source of them.
Many small adventures, frequent visits to taverns for gambling, and the pair's assistance in small rebellions against tyrinical lords later, Burnell still wonders if this unaging girl knew what he did to her, and how many of those stabs were simply illusions from Morcar.
Currently With the world crumbling around him, Morcar knows it is his duty to help keep as many people free from the demon's wrath as possible, even if that means turning to a lesser evil. Seeking to aid others, Burnell walks. He doesn't know his part, his role in the story of these troubled times, but only that he seeks to aid those he can.
Nicknames/Titles: 'Phoenix' is probably the most commonly used. Has been mistaken for many existent gods, called an angel, and the inspiration for some non-existent deities.
Age: When asked about her age, Iravis probably responds with fire in her eyes, her voice rising in volume. "I have received offerings, laughed at Christ's resurrection, turned Latium to ashes, been a companion to Charlemagne in his conquests, and led Tancred over the walls of Jerusalem. I have lived over four thousand years, and am a goddess worthy of worship!"
But her eyes drift downwards after that explanation, her voice suddenly quiet. If she trusts you, she might continue. "I've lived in a cage, a curiosity. Now I've practically become a pet. The most violent thing I've done recently is set fire to the curtains. I just turned seventeen years old..."
Gender: Female Race: Phoenix
Sexuality: "As a bird, I've always found eagles strangely attractive!"
Year: N/A
Powers: The Goddess has received many over time, but these are the ones she has currently.
Inferno As a bird of flame, in most of her lives Iravis has been gifted with the ability to wield and manipulate fire. Although able to target an individual, her spells are most useful as an area-of-effect sort of attack. Additionally, the more fire that surrounds her, the stronger she is. This means that fighting in a city grants her an exponential power curve as she burns more of it down. Additionally, it means she is much stronger in deserts and during the day when the sun is out.
Lacrima As in the legends, the Phoenix is renown for her legendary power of healing. Not only can she never truly die, but her tears are capable of great healing. She also heals faster than normal, having the ability to heal very minor wounds in a few minutes despite having tears. She has never figured out how she respawns, but her dreams are only memories of previous lives.
Phoenix And of course, she can turn into the phoenix. She hasn't done this yet this life, but she will eventually. As of now, she has to be very frustrated (not necessarily angry) in order to perform the transformation which exhausts her. Lyssa's laptop is currently the only reliable method for this. In both human and bird form she has enhanced vision and hearing. Lastly, her nails in human form are very, very sharp. Like talons.
A massive winged beast, colored orange with the tips of it's wings becoming first red then leading to blue ends that seem to dance like fire. Its eyes were sapphires, the deepest blue of the Nile.
A storyteller could spend a thousand other lines describing the beast's majesty, the bird's divine presence.
Smite Honestly, she's never fired the spell. She has no idea what it does.
Strengths: Both of her magic has extremely high potential in both human and bird form. Very few have been able to surpass her, and around age 300 she reaches a nearly unstoppable peak of strength. Additionally, it is very hard to actually burn her.
Weaknesses: Both of her magics are also uncontrollable. If angry, surrounding fires will begin to rise uncontrollably. Her tears of healing can be taken through beatings, allowing her worst enemies to heal from her power. While around 135 she is able to control her full mana at will, but up until then it usually leads to disaster.
Catalyst: She is awaiting an offering from a mortal.
Inventory: Typically whatever she has been offered. In this case, the dress featured in the picture.
Master: N/A
Squad Name: N/A
Personality: Being praised as a goddess in her dreams, Iravis sometimes forgets that she isn't all powerful. Her mood often depends on what she remembered the night before, leading to a strange randomness where she experiences happiness, sadness, horniness, fear, and all the other emotions throughout the day as she copes with the memories. Iravivs' sarcasm is legendary, largely due to the fact that death is really, really meaningless for her. Although in this life she tends towards being weak and submissive, some days she is extremely confrontational and argues with dragons.
A wise woman told her it was alright to be afraid, but not to let her fears control her. Despite the fact that she firmly believes she is strong, she thinks that if your being overwhelmed, it's okay to ask for help if you aren't ready to face those things yet. In a way, it's her first step to confronting a problem. On the flip side, she tends to depend too much on champions to fight for her causes.
Although Iravis believes it is one of her duties as a goddess to help another even if it causes her own suffering, the Phoenix thinks that it should be done so anonymously and without pride. The less people who know of her kindness, the less who will come begging, after all.
She believes conviction is what lends strength to a person, and one without conviction in any form has no true strength at all.
Backstory: Born some time before 2000 BC, an Egyptian girl entered an argument with a man who claimed he was a god. Turns out the man actually was Ra, Egyptian bird God of the Sun. As punishment, she was cursed with the inability to die. Her memories rarely go back this far, so she knows very little about her initial life as a human.
Appearing many times in history, she has always favored the Greeks and the Egyptians. But as with humans, she always follows the one she loves first. Her death usually is caused by her love one way or another in the end, but the Phoenix never got angry about it. She believes a few times she has actually approached her ex-lover in the next life and had nice conversations. Henry VIII had her three times, which she thinks is the currently held record.
In this life, for her youngest years she was held captive by a group of corrupt mages, literally having the tears beat out of her. Kept in a room, she was taught about language, math, history and many other things by her captors. Iravis never figured out who was benefiting from her healing magic, and never could figure out why her captors didn't throw her in a literal cage.
Eventually, a group of mages from Liseranna rescued her and brought her to the place she calls home now...
The red haired fourteen year old looked up from the book in her hands as her keeper entered the room, but her eyes quickly drifted back downwards towards the pages. The girl saw words on the pages, but her mind had stopped reading as she heard the footsteps approching. Even though it happened every day, she never could get used to this portion of it.
"It's time" She heard her keeper pull out a small bottle. The girl lifted herself from the bed, moving towards a metal chair next to it. The bottle was thrust into her hand as soon as she finished lowering herself onto the uncomfortable throne.
Lifting it to her eye, the red haired girl allowed tears to fall into it. After years of practice, she had managed to be able to cry at will. Once it was about halfway full, the tears slowed and eventually came to a stop. She couldn't force that many out at once. A slap delivered across the face managed to summon a few more, but it wasn't enough to reach her quota.
"... Please ..." For the first time today, she looked into the keeper's eyes in an attempt to beg him to stop. Just not today. A moment later she remembered why that never worked as a fist crashed into her face.
"That's the last time you beg. I want double today."
A look of shock ran across the fourteen year old's face. "I can't..." A punch to the stomach made a few more fall into the bottle, but some of them fell to the floor. As she noticed a hand raised in the air, she instincivly raised an arm in the air to defend herself. A mistake.
An hour later the girl slumped to the floor in a bloody mess as she was finally freed from her bonds. She apologized, but that only earned her a final kick. Animals weren't meant to speak.
The keeper left the room whistling, three bottles clanging against eachother cheerfully as the door closed behind him. He'd be getting a large paycheck today. Selling immortality was profitable, and many were willing to pay a high price for it.
Arthur Wick had found the place. Stepping out of his car he looked at the manor that stood before him. A rather ornate, if aged, affair. A perfect place for such a lair.
"Could you stay in the car please? I'd prefer to go in alone. I'll call if I need help." the man said as the closed the door behind him and started walking across the grounds to the entrance
It was a nice enough looking place. Tall building, simple architecture, a stone tower junting from the side that could equally house an observatory or an medieval armory. Likely a basement filled with long maze like tunnels. Arthur smiled, this could be fun. He walked onwards towards the door, his hand held out to touch and trail along some trimmed hedges growing along the cobble path.
Gall had remained silent most of the ride to their destination. He, had wished he could have used a more efficient form of travel, but Livia had insisted he take the vehicle with Arthur, as much as it displeased him. So while Arthur drove, he simply remained in the back seat, silent for most of the trip unless Arthur spoke directly to him. He wasn’t here to socialize after all. Livia had sent him to watch. Livia couldn’t make it herself, so it was up to him to make a decision here. Act as her eyes and ears.
That was his job, after all. Always had been.
“The Headmistress tasked me to help you.” The undead replied, his otherworldly voice echoing just a bit as he stepped out of the vehicle. “So I will be accompanying you whether you want me too or not.” He followed Arthur up to the front door. If he was capable, a small frown would have formed on his lips.
“You intend to barge in the front door?” The reaper sighed, obviously displeased. “Perhaps a more…stealthy approach is best, here. We do not know what we are up against, and if Sorcha is correct…this...pheonix not the most welcoming sort.”
Of course, he was referring to his skill with Circum magic, and his natural ability to travel between the realms of life and death. He could easily put them right inside without even knocking.
Arthur huffed before retorting, "Come on, liven up a little."
Gall simply stared emotionlessly at Arthur. His eyeless sockets could have probably sent a chill up even a dragons spine.
Arthur walked up the steps to the door before giving a few solid knocks. After a moment the door opened a crack and a man peared his head out slightly before asking, "What is it?"
"Yes, I was wondering, have you any ancient fire birds on hand? Seems I ran fresh out."
A moment of panic ran across the doorman's face. Then his corpse fell to the ground.
"You take the fun out of everything, you know that?" Arthur said staring down at the dead man.
“We’re not here to have fun.” Gall replied from inside the house. His scythe had almost sliced the man in half. “We’re here for business.” He continied, his scythe disappearing back to wherever the reaper kept it. "We shouldn't keep the Headmistress waiting." The reaper then turned, walking back into the house.
"Who says business can't be fun?" Arthur muttered as he stood there, the reaper turning to go further in. "Oi! Wait up. Better yet, how about we split up. Cover more ground. I'll search the mansion, you search the grounds. Sure, that'll work right? Arthur said as he walked into the manor.
The reaper turned slightly, looking over his shoulder at Arthur from inside the house.
“It would be more efficient to stay together.” The reaper replied. Of course, he had his reasons for staying so close to Arthur. Livia had told him too. What reason, he couldn’t imagine. Perhaps she simply didn’t entirely trust him. Perhaps she was afraid he’d simply burn the place to the ground, which was bad considering he was here also looking for…information.
“But…if you have issue with my presence…I shall look upstairs, and you may look down here.” And with that, the reaper was gone. A shadowy cloak enveloping his being until he disappeared completely from view, appearing on the second floor only seconds later - likely surprising anyone had they been up there.
And with that Arthur was standing alone. "Well, I suppose I have a bird to find." Arthur went through the first door he found, walking into a game room, billards table, a few arcade machines, a small bar. And also about six goons, who all turned to look at the pyromancer. "Why hello there. Don't suppose any of you know where I can get my hands on a eternal firebird?"
If Gall was surprised to find the room empty, it wasn’t able to be shown on his skeletal face. He was rather pleased, though. This would be easy if there weren’t many obstacles in his way. No doubt the Pyromancer would be making a ruckus soon enough which would serve as a much needed distraction. He’d be able to do his job quite easily in that case.
Arthur thought they were here subduing some dangerous creature who fancied themselves a god. Which was true, they were. But Livia also wanted to know what exactly she had been up too. A god like the phoenix didn’t stay silent all these years without some sort of plan. With luck, they’d be able to capture the fire bird and stop whatever she was planning.
But on the off chance they weren’t, and the phoenix or Arthur, burned the place down Livia wished to know what she was planning, so she could possibly stop it if it was anything malicious.
The reaper moved silently across the second floor of the house, carefully looking for any signs of life or anyone else that might be up here. He’d end them silently and quickly, before they even knew what happened.
The red haired girl heard some commotion outside the room despite the soundproofed walls. What... ? Her arms shook as she raised herself to her knees off the red stained tile. Suddenly she heard the door slam open loudly, eliciting a yelp of surprise from the teenager as she ducked behind the bed trembling in fear. ... did I do something wrong? Does he need more than three today? She didn't have any tears left to express her fear, so she remained shivering there silently.
Arthur stood in the door frame. He had burnt his way through the guards, most of them could barely be called mages. Finding the key on one of them, along with three bottles that Arthur assumed were important and grabbed, he was adventuring he was allowed to loot, he looked into the room.
It was the deepest room in the manor, past the basement and through a few mazing tunnels. It was a good thing those blokes were defending it or else Arthur may have never found the door. The room itself was rather simple, some books on a shelf, a chair, a bed with a quivering form hiding behind it. Wait one moment.
"Hey there, you alright?' Arthur asked as he walked over. It was a girl, couldn't be older than fifteen. Red hair, covered in bruses and blood.
The teenager didn't look up, still shaking on her knees. She simply nodded yes silently in response, not looking up at him. She wondered for a moment if her keeper had sent someone else in to apologize for him. That seemed unlikely to the red haired girl ... She didn't know why, but she felt a slight comforting ... fire ... appear in her chest.
"Alright. I'm Arthur Wick, who are you? Can you speak? Stand?" Wick asked, he may have been there to find a firebird and capture her but he could hardly let this poor girl alone, she needed help.
The girl managed to stand up, a slight tremble still running through her limbs. She wondered if this was an elaborate test from her keeper to make sure she'd learned her lesson. The red haired girl simply shook her head no in response, thinking that was the safest route.
Arthur stepped up to the girl, and after half a second of thought picked her up in his arms. She couldn't speak, she was beaten and bloody. She barely stood. "For Artemis' sake, I came here to find a bird but I can't leave you here can I? Let's get you out of here, hopefully Gall is having more luck then I am." Arthur would then start walking towards the door to leave. The red haired girl froze in animalistic terror as she was lifted but remained silent in her confusion.
"Hold a moment, Arthur..." Galls voice rang out, as he appeared in the doorway. It was difficult to tell, but his black robe was stained with blood in several places, though the reaper didn't seem to mind. Instead, his head was turned towards the child, his emotionless gaze not betraying his internal debate.
They were here to kill or bring this creature to Livia after all.
“This child…is the one we were sent to…dispose of.” His gaze turned from the child, back to Arthur, obviously waiting to see the pyromancers reaction. Her amber eyes widened in response.
Arthur meanwhile looked down to the girl he was holding, up to the reaper."You're telling me?" Then he looked down at the girl again. "You're the phoenix?" Arthur asked the girl, who didn't respond.
She honestly wasn't sure what was going on. But she doubted it was good based on their conversation.
"Well then. Hey Gall, a question. How combustable are you? For curiosities sake." Arthur asked the reaper as his mind put the pieces together.
“Try it…and your skull will end up as a paperweight on my desk.” The reaper didn’t make a move, however. He had no intention of actually harming the girl unless it was necessary.
"Hey hey, I didn't say I was going to do anything. I was just curious." Arthur said as he took a step forward, "Don't suppose you could move though, I need to get past."
"And what do you intend to do with the girl?" Gall asked, as he stepped aside.
Arthur shrugged best he could without disturbing the girl in his arms, "Get her out of this manor." Walking past the reaper and the burnt corpses Arthur began to make his way out of the tunnels.
The red haired girl finally managed to gather a small voice. "... stop ... I can't leave ..." The red haired girl started to try and push out of his arms, but there wasn't enough strength to dislodge herself from him. Her keeper had told her before that if she left her life would become very miserable.
Arthur stopped moving, the girl was fighting against him, meekly, but she was. "And why not?" the pyromancer asked, a look of equal concern and curiosity in his eyes.
"Keeper said ... he'd ..." Despite her current state, a few tears started falling from the Amber eyes. The teenager started to struggle a bit more, but with any amount of effort the man holding her wouldn't lose his grip.
Gall was going to reply to Arthur, but before he could say anything the girls’ tiny voice interrupted him. He fixed the girl with an eyeless gaze. That probably wasn’t going to help her condition much…but well, there wasn’t much he could do about that, now was there?
“Worry not child…everyone who was residing here has been…taken care of.” With that said, he turned back to Arthur, though made no effort to stop him. “Livia will wish to see her. We should bring her.”
With a sigh Arthur continued walking, "Don't worry, your 'keeper' isn't here anymore. I'll protect you. What's your name? Arthur asked as he walked up some stairs into the manor above.
Eyes still looking downwards, she was surprised to hear that piece of news. ... did he sell me? What happened? After a second, she realized the commotion outside her room had probably been fighting. Were these two going to use her now? The girl shook her head in response to his final question. "... don't have one ..."
Arthur shook his head, "That won't do, how long have you been here?" Arthur asked, a girl without a name. Walking past several more charred bodies the group slowly made their way towards the exit. Flames from the ealier battles were begining to catch, within the hour the manor would be aflame.
Gall mentally sighed. Well, as long as Arthur didn't attempt to flee with the girl he wouldn't do or say anything. One whiff that he might, and his head really would be used as a personal desk ornament. So for now, the reaper simply followed silently.
The trio had just stepped out the door before Arthur stopped, saying "Oh right one more thing. Gall find anything interesting? Because if so I hope you brought it with you." Arthur would then awkwardly adjust his hand so that it was pointing towards the building without upsetting or dropping the girl, and then a torrent of flame poured out, quickly engulfing the front of the building. "There, no evidence that anything happened here, no crime nor crime scene, and no survivors. Now let's go to school"
“Vials of Phoenix tears.” Gall replied. He was reasonably sure that was what they were, at least. He could sense how much…life, was in them. Livia would certainly be interested in the few vials he had collected. “Nothing else important in such a place.” The reaper then watched silently as the pyromancer burned the place to the ground. He wasn’t sure how Livia would feel about that, it could go either way really, but there was no way he was stopping it now.
“We should leave before any curious onlookers see the blaze.”
It had so far been a quiet night, though a bit of uneasiness filled her even if it didn’t show on her face. She had sent Arthur on a rather dangerous mission. Even with Gall present, she wasn’t sure if the two of them alone could handle a creature such as the phoenix. At least, not if it was as powerful as Sorcha claimed it was.
She leaned back in her chair, taking a sip of the tea she was holding in her hand as she waited. Her office was rather large. A plush dark blue carpet covered most of the floor, along with several bookcases a few shelves and things displaying some odd trinket or two. Her desk was sitting against the far wall, purple curtains were drawn over windows behind it. A fireplace was also built into one of the walls.
As uneasy as She was, she was also confident in her familiar and Arthur. She wouldn’t have asked them to do it otherwise, but well, there was always a small chance something could go wrong. Her information on the phoenix was incomplete, after all. She only had one source of information on it. A dragon who had an obvious grudge against the phoenix.
It was a reasonable grudge, though, and one she was inclined to help her friend with.
Hopefully they would return with good news soon.
Arthur stood outside the door, the girl standing next to him and Gall not far behind. Arthur could only see this ending well as he gave three swift knocks on the door.
Well, what a timely arrival. Livia mused silently. She placed her teacup on the desk in front of her.
“It is open.”
The door swung open to reveal Arthur, who stepped in. "I found... her. But I'm pretty sure she isn't what you were looking for Headmistress." Arthur would then step to the side, to allow Livia a whole view of the girl standing near the pyromancer.
The red haired girl had been following Arthur ever since they left the mansion. She had calmed down a little, but still didn't know anything that was going on. She looked up for a moment to examine the new room, but the teenager's eyes returned to the floorboards after a few moments. Wearing a vastly oversized T-Shirt as a dress, she was not the definition of divine in any form of the word.
Livia remained silent as Arthur entered the room. Gall decided walking wasn’t necessary, and had elected to use his Circum magic, appearing behind her. Upon seeing Arthur with the girl, Livia simply picked up her tea once again, taking another sip of it.
“As…Arthur said, there has been an…interesting development.” Gall replied, moving to the desk silently. Livia looked at the girl. This was definitely not what she was expecting. She had been expecting to see some regal looking creature of legend. Not some…child dressed in some over-sized t-shirt.
A few silent words were whispered between the Reaper and Livia, too quiet for the Pyromancer or child to hear, though the reaper did pull a vial out of his robes, and showed it to Livia before she waved him off, disappearing as suddenly as he appeared.
“Hmm…perhaps you should explain, Arthur.” Livia replied.
Arthur shrugged before saying, "Went ot the place, found more then a few unhappy people. They attacked me, I burnt them. After a bit of fighting found a room in the basement, inside was her. Beaten, bloody. A tool for their gain. She doesn't even have a name. Arthur sighed as he looked at Livia. "I don't think your source was very accurate Headmistress."
"Are you suggesting my friend has been lying to me, Arthur?" Livia mused, a small smile appearing on her lips. “And how many times must tell you to call me Livia, hmm?”
Blushing slightly, and moving his hand up to stroke his beard in an attempt to hide it the pyromaster would state, "I am suggesting, Madam, that things are rarely what they seem at first glance. This girl was trapped in a basement being used solely for others profit."
“Madam? Now I’m feeling like an old woman.” Livia pouted, just ever so slightly, though she was mostly just teasing.
“On a more…serious note…Gall has informed me. Likely they were harvesting her tears, correct?” Livia frowned, just slightly as she set her tea back onto the table. “That is…indeed a problem.” She leaned back in her chair, fixing Arthur with a cool gaze. "Gall mentioned you burned the place. Care to tell me why?"
Arthur thought about it. "To be completely honest, I don't really have a good reason. I can tell you that nobody that was involved in the girl's situation survived. Unless somebody was gone that day. Or was fireproof. I suppose you'd prefer the manor not burnt to a crisp? Arthur asked, the barest hint of a smirk on his face.
“Well,” Livia sighed as she reached into her desk and pulled out a rather expensive looking bottle of wine and setting it on the table, pulling out a glass to go with it. “From what Gall said they deserved their fate. However, now we have no chance of finding out who was using the tears and for what purpose.” She poured a glass of the wine. “Of course, it was a rather beautiful manor as well from what I was told. But more importantly...how is the child?”
"I'm pretty sure she can answer for herself." Arthur said as he looked over to the poor girl. "It's alright, Headmistress Livia here is a good person, she just wants to help." Arthur said as he started to lean against the nearby wall.
The red haired girl's eyes darted across the room as she raised them slightly. "... I'm alive ..." She wasn't exactly sure why they were asking, or what was going on. Why did they care?
Oh dear. The poor child looked completely out of her element. Livia frowned slightly, before getting up from her seat. She should probably be sent to bed soon, but she was hesitant to let the child out of her sight at the moment. She trusted Galls judgement that she was in fact the phoenix they were looking for. She must have reincarnated at some point Sorcha didn’t know about. It was hard to imagine what could have killed a powerful creature like the phoenix, however.
“Aha, being alive is very good, isn’t it?” Livia replied to the girl with a soft laugh, taking a seat on one of the sofas. “Perhaps you should take a seat? I have some wonderful tea here, if you want to try some. That offer extends to you as well, Arthur. Unless you’d prefer something stronger?”
The red haired girl slowly moved towards the couch obediently, shaking her head in response to Livia's question. She sat down as far as possible from the strange woman, placing herself against the armrest. It was a comfortable chair, at least.
“Ah…no tea? Tsk. Ah well, I’ll drink it later. Anything for you, Arthur?” Livia replied, no making any attempt to move towards the girl. No need to put more stress on her then she was currently feeling.
Arthur stepped over, sitting between the two women as he said, "I would love some tea. Thank you.'
Without another word, Livia got up from the couch and walked back over to her desk, pouring a cup of tea for Arthur, and grabbing her own wine glass. She brought Arthur the tea, before taking a seat on the opposite sofa, right across from the red-haired girl. She mostly wanted to keep an eye on her. Having Arthur between them wouldn’t exactly help with that.
“So,” She said, taking a sip of the wine. “You do not have a name, child? We can’t very well keep calling you child. I suppose I can simply call you Roux since you have a lovely shade of red hair, but that seems a little silly.”
The red haired girl blushed slightly, curiously looking into Livia's eyes. That compliment wasn't a lie, from what the teenager could tell. They were being ... kind. The ambers soon returned to looking at the floor though, too nervous to hold that gaze.
Something told her that these weren't terrible people. The idea that this was an elaborate ruse set up by her keeper moved towards the back of her mind. "... What's going on? ..." The words hardly left the teenagers mouth, probably barely audible to Livia across from her.
“You are safe, child.” Livia replied simply, resting the wine glass on the table between the sofas. “Those…people that have been…keeping you, have been dealt the punishment they deserve.”
The red haired girl nodded, but more questions popped up into her mind. The sort of questions it would take her years to answer. She decided to ask the one that affected her right now. "... And ... And what now?" The teenager couldn't see how they benifited from this.
Arthur sipped from his tea, looking over to Livia, "That is a good question. We can't really let your... friend learn that she is here can we Livia? Arthur then took another sip, "It's hard to talk about people without names. So how about, I and Lady Fiore here figure out where you can stay, and you answer the second most important question in many RPGs, what is your name? No need to be hasty." Arthur said, directing his comment towards the girl next to him.
The red haired girl nodded slightly. She wasn't exactly so sure why they were so insistent about naming her ... her keeper earlier had said she didn't deserve one. But if they decided she needed one. "... You named me Roux though ..." Livia stifled a small chuckle upon hearing this.
"Called, she called you Roux, not named. It is important to know the difference." Arthur chimed in without even thinking.
“What? I think it’s cute.” Livia replied, a small smile gracing her lips. “Hmm…Rouxia Allete?” she continued after a moment of thought. “Roux for short. Not terrible fancy or anything, but if the child likes it I see no reason too not at least give her that.” She brought the glass of wine to her lips before adding.
“Unless you wish to confuse this poor girl further, Arthur?” She fixed him with a rather cool gaze as she spoke.
Arthur nearly jumped before saying, "I... suddenly..." the look his boss was giving him had Arthur on edge all of a sudden. What's the worse she could do though? Kill him? At least she couldn't read his mind. "I find that choices are best, more so when they are few in number but completely obvious. Rouxia Allete, or perhaps Ari Collins?"
The red haired girl rotated her head slightly as they both started shooting out suggestions. It wasn't helping the situation.
Ari…collins? Livia snickered a bit, placing the wine glass back on the table.
“My, I pity your children…or pets, Arthur.” She teased, giving him a friendly smile as that cool gaze of hers completely left. “But really, confusing the poor girl any more won’t help her any. She’s probably tired as well, so it is probably good we should settle this quickly.” She fell silently for a moment, before turning to the redhead.
“Which name do you like, child? It will be yours, so why not have you choose it?”
The red haired girl's face only had a more confused stare on it as her gaze looked to Livia's face. She didn't want to offend either of her new keepers. She sensed that Livia was the dominant one, but Wick ignited something within her. As if her tired mind decided that it was overloaded, eyes closed and her breathing slowed as her head landed into Wick's lap.
Livia simply sighed, though a small smile still graced her lips. Such an outcome wasn’t unexpected. The poor child was likely completely exhausted.
“Well, that decides that.” Livia replied as she stood, wine glass in hand. “Arthur, I do believe we should let her rest. I’ll have one of the staff bring some blankets.”
Arthur sat there, still as he could. "So.. should I stay here? Or... Help?" Arthur asked as he stared down at the girl's head nestled in his lap. This was not what he was expecting, and he really wasn't fond of it, but he could hardly move and disturb this tired girl.
“As I said…we should let her rest. We have things we must discuss, unless you want a certain dragon finding out about our new guest.” That was a bit more than a suggestion, judging from her tone. Livia was standing near the door to the office now. She had opened it just big enough to speak to a maid standing outside of it. A brief conversation followed, and the maid left to get blankets as she turned back to Arthur.
“Oh, and if you wake her when you get up, I’ll have you work in the cafeteria as an oven~” It was difficult to tell if that playful smirk was being serious about that. As if to make Wick's life harder, the red hair girl wrapped her arms lightly around his waist as she had memories of a life long past.
It had been about ten minutes until Arthur, through great effort, managed to free himself. It was a long siege, give and take, until he was standing, and the girl was sleeping upon a heap of pillows brought in by a helpful maid.
Arthur now stood just outside the room, with Livia, so that they could talk without disturbing the girl. "So, what are your thoughts?" Arthur asked.
“That I was looking forward to some special Arthur Wick cooked pastries and now I won’t get any, tsk~” Livia teased, though the small smile left rather quickly as the conversation took a more serious turn. “More seriously…we should discuss my dragon friend.” Livia replied with a sigh, as she started walking away from her office.
"You know, if you wanted me to cook you something all you needed to do was ask. But yes, your friend. What exactly do we need to discuss?" Arthur asked as he followed but a step behind the headmistress.
Oho, she’d hold him too that offer, then, but now wasn’t the time for such pleasantries.
“Well…that girl obviously is the Phoenix.” Livia replied. “Sorcha would know that immediately if she ever met the girl. The problem is…That girl can barely be over 13 years old. She can’t possibly be the same girl that was responsible for the atrocities Sorcha has mentioned. At least, she has reincarnated since then, and I am not one to believe the sins of her past lives should fall on this girl….Roux….Allete, whatever we decide to name her. I do not believe…Sorcha would be of the same mind, however. Dragons are fickle creatures, and when one has a grudge…well…I shouldn’t have to tell you.” Livia sighed, stopping where she was walking, just outside the door leading out of the building. She was going to see Gall after this, though she should probably use some sleep herself….
“My point is,” She turned to face Arthur with a cold expression. “Sorcha has been my friend for almost thirty years, while I do believe she is a good person at heart…this curse that was placed on her and the grudge could…cloud her judgement. It would be in our best interest if Sorcha never finds out about the child. I will arrange a room for her in a quiet part of the campus where she won’t find her. It also means we’ll have to refrain from having too many people visit her.” She paused for a moment, before narrowing her eyes dangerously at Arthur.
“If Sorcha finds out about the phoenix, as much as it pains me to admit…I may require you to come out of retirement.”
Arthur would follow along, listening silently as they neared the exit to the building. "Understood. I'll be ready. So... do you want some kind of cake or?..." Arthur asked with a bemused smile on his face.
Livia frowned. Now was not the time for such shenanigans.
“I do not believe you are taking this seriously, Arthur.” She replied, walking towards the door. “If Sorcha approaches you, you are to tell her that the phoenix she is looking for wasn’t there. If she doesn’t believe you, then you are to tell me immediately. I will deal with her.” Livia sighed as she finished speaking, though turned back to Arthur.
“However, if you are serious…a cake would be wonderful.”
"I'm rarely ever not serious. Trust me, I understand the situation, and Sorcha won't learn about the girl's existance here. That manor was empty, just some goons smuggling drugs." Arthur said with a smile. "Now if you don't mind, I have a cake to bake." As Arthur said that he stepped out the door, to make the walk to the town.
The teenager's eyes were shifting back and forth as they ran across the words before her. She found herself reading on a bed again as she had done most days in the manor.
Four days ago Livia had brought her to a small two story home after she had woken up from her rest on the sofa. Two full bathrooms, two bedrooms with plenty of bookshelves and a desk. A living room and a small kitchen along with a sitting area. A balcony faced outdoors to overlook a backyard. After assuming that this was Livia's home, she was told that it was actually belonged to her now.
Coming fully furnished, it only had one major issue. Chairs. It had taken the teenager almost ten hours to move the eight objects, but she managed to stack all of them outside in the front lawn as far from the door as possible. She hoped her new keepers wouldn't mind her tossing them out.
So, she found herself reading a book on ancient egyptian costuming and tailoring that was already on the shelf. The redhead wasn't exactly sure why, but the topic interested her. Luckily, it proved to be relevant.
Honestly, Livia was probably enjoying pampering the redhead just a little too much. She had never had any kids in her forty seven years of existence, and perhaps it was a little much…but well, she couldn’t exactly deny it was a little pleasant.
…aha, if her younger self could see her now…
She shook her head, smiling softly as she approached the door to the home and entered quietly. Or at least, she would have if she didn’t notice a stack of chairs sitting as far away from the door as possible. This caused her to pause, trying to figure out what exactly the girl had been doing with them. Did she simply not like chairs? After a few moments though, she simply sighed, and continued into the house.
“Hrm…well, at least their stacked in a semi-artistic manner…” Livia mused as she entered. She’d have the chairs moved elsewhere before the weather damaged them. For now, she had more…important business to attend too. Now, where was the little roux at?
After a few moments of searching, Livia found her in her usual spot. Reading a book on a rather exquisite bed, if she did say so herself.
“Ah…little Roux,” She called out, knocking lightly on the door to the room to announce her presence. “You are doing well today?”
The one called Roux was startled despite the adequate warning she had been given. Amber eyes lifted up to see Livia knocking on an already open door out of courtesy. After a moment the teenagers eyes dropped slightly as her head nodded in afffirmation. Without her old keeper there, the old bruises had healed for the most part at what would normally be considered an unnatural rate. The red haired girl felt more ... alive. Roux closed her book, moving to sit on the edge of the bed. A small glass of water and a small bottle filled with some liquid sat on her bedside table. She lifted up the bottle, nervously holding it out for Livia to take.
Upon having the obvious bottle of phoenix tears up to her, Livia only sighed. Really, was she just…trained to cry like that? Livia shook her head, a bit upset, though it wasn’t at the girl. At least those injuries of hers had healed.
“Child…Roux,” Livia walked over to the girl, careful not to make any movements that would startle the girl. She would have grabbed a chair, but they were busy being a new piece of modern art outside. Instead, she opted to sit next to the child. She had hoped she had gotten to the point where she was comfortable around her. Roux moved slightly away, but she didn't run off or panic at Livia's approach.
“These are your…tears, correct?” Livia asked, gently taking the bottle as she sat. She of course, had no intention of taking them. “Hmm…may I ask why you are giving them to me? Just becasue I'm probably considered an old woman to most doesn't mean I need these~”
After a quick nod to confirm they were her tears, Roux's legs kicked back and forth slightly as she responded quietly to the next question. " ... You're my keeper now ..." To the girl, she was surprised why the older woman didn't ask for more. With four days to produce them, two more were sitting in the cabinent drawer in case her new keeper demanded extra. She decided not to mention those.
After a few moments the young girl wondered if she had accidenly insulted the older woman. That wouldn't be a good thing. Did she not want to be old? Was her present not adequate? Roux closed her eyes as she looked away, instinctivly preparing to be hit for her failure.
Oops.
Looks like she may have chosen the wrong choice of words there. Smooth Livia. She sighed inwardly. She had no intention of actually hitting the girl of course, despite how she may have been flinching.
“Rouxia, I am not upset.” She replied softly. “I simply have no need of your tears.” She continued, studying the bottle with a small smile, before holding it back out towards the redhead. “Neither I, nor Arthur have need of them.”
It took a few moments after Livia spoke for the girl to stop her internal panic. Seeing the outreached hand, the red haired girl took the bottle back nervously, legs kicking back and forth as they had been before. A short time bit of time went by and she decided to hold onto it rather than put it away, placing the bottle into her left pocket. After an awkward silence, the amber beads looked into the headmistresses' eyes curiously, head tilted slightly and red hair running over her right shoulder.
It was hard to tell if the girl was wondering why they didn't want the tears or if she was wondering what the purpose of this visit was today.
Well, that was settled. She hoped the girl understood that she didn’t need to force herself to cry any more here. She might have to be a little…firmer with her words If she didn’t, as much as she feared that might upset the child. At least she wasn’t completely put off by her now. She was able to look her in the eye now, without feeling threatened.
“At any rate,” She said, standing up as she gave the roux a small smile. “I would like to take you shopping today. I will not be having anyone under my care dressing in such rags. We need to buy you some proper clothes.”
The one called Roux looked down again to the floorboards again, a little bit nervous about leaving the house. She considered these to be nice clothes. But she nodded, pushing herself off the bed and nodding in confirmation. If Livia felt like playing dress up, the red haired girl wouldn't complain.
As the pair headed towards the mall, the red head found herself caught between some combination of curiousity and terror. She found herself looking around for a few heartbeats, taking everything in she could possibly see. Then the amber eyes would look back toward's the ground at Livia's feet, following them obediently a from a few steps behind.
Eventually the girl named Roux found herself being guided up a staircase into a small store, The Vetement. Clothes racks consumed most of the store's space with only a single article of clothing in a single style hanging from its racks. A long wallside wooden desk along the left side had several chairs pushed into it along with sketchpads and colored pencils scattered across it's surface. In a small clearing towards the right side of the store were two circles with various symbols etched in them. A tone that tried to sound irritated, but betrayed a sense of welcoming echoed from a counter just beyond the circles. "What brings the headmistress here today?" The man's deep voice boomed.
“Ah, Le Clothe.” She greeted the man with a friendly smile. “Normally I’d be here spoiling myself, but I have someone else who’s getting spoiled today.” Thankfully, the little roux didn’t run off anywhere, though Livia was hoping she might actually at least try to…interact with her surroundings a bit.
"This girl? Don't spoil her too much, she'll only grow out of them." A sigh and a more gentle tone escaped his mouth as he addressed the teenager. "Fine, run along the racks and find something you like. Just be sure to look through the racks for a sample you think is cute or draw something out in the sketchpad. The more detailed, the better." After some hesitation, the girl named Roux found herself looking up to Livia as if seeking confirmation.
“Well you heard the man, Roux. Whatever you want,” A small smile formed on her lips. “Someone will end up paying for it~”
The redhead headed off to the racks. The teenager searched slowly at first, as if not wanting to insult either one of them by dismissing anything too quickly, but eventually she had mastered the art of shopping and dissapeared into the forest of clothes. "You know, I am a little jealous of you."
Livia knew the story. The man's adopted son had suffered a lifelong ailment that had forced the thirteen year old to be bedridden most days. Even the school's head nurse had tried to cure the sickness, but all she could do was lay off the symptoms for a few days. Every time his child returned though, the illness would only appear faster than the previous one. A trained eye would guess that the bedridden child had a year to live.
“Oh?” Livia laughed softly as she watched the redhead disappear into the clothing, attempting to find something. “I suppose I am just rather lucky.” Livia replied with a sigh, a sad smile appearing on her lips. It was well known to the man that she was in fact, unable to have children of her own. It was simply a topic that had come up once when discussing his son – he was probably one of the few people who knew. “The redhead…has had a rather difficult life.”
Not that she had ever really wanted children, but age does make one regret things they had never done in their youth.
Fall in love and have a family, for example.
“I shall do my best, but…I’ve never done this before and I fear I may not be up to the task of raising her.”
The man's tone approached something resembling sincere. "Allow me to offer you one piece of advice. I've always think it's best to trust your instincts. You can always put up an act of fancy words, but it's the small things that affect them. If someone's stopped on the side of the road, do you pull over to try and help them? Or do you continue on your vacation, and enjoy yourself?"
Realizing he was rambling, the tailor regained his pride and his voice returned to something along the lines of sarcastic. "A thousand kid's lives you run, and you are seriously worried about this redhead? Surely others have had worse lives." It wasn't clear or not he was talking about his own child or others in the world.
“Aha, you are correct, but my relationship with my students is different. Most don’t really…well, know me, you could say.” She sighed, shaking her head. “I am most certainly concerned for all of them, but for the most part I’m probably not even a normal part of their day.” She turned her heads to the clothing, eyes scanning for signs of the redhead.
“This little Roux, however...I can’t say her life has been worse than any others because I do not know all my students on a personal level.” She replied, giving Le Clothe a small frown. “However, little Roux here…after hearing from Gall and another teacher what she went through…you could say I feel a little…I suppose I simply wish to protect her.”
He shrugged in response, and after a few moments changed the subject to something much less significant, some simple small talk as the two passed their time.
Little Red went around the store, choosing various long dresses off the shelves, and a few knee length ones as well. She ended up sticking mostly to the colors of green and red, along with one or two in white. They matched her hair well.
Eventually though, she seemed to be looking for something that couldn't be found. Roux headed over to the long desk, hesitating upon seeing the chairs. She spent a little time mustering her courage, but she started to stack the chairs on top of eachother towards one side. The red head intended to use the other side for planning out a design in one of the sketchbooks. The tailor simply rolled his eyes. He'd seen stranger habits in his time.
She was having a fairly pleasant conversation with Le Clothe. She was a bit thankful it had moved on from something less serious. However, she had to raise an eyebrow at what she noticed the little redhead doing. She didn’t wish to startle the girl, but well…stacking chairs like that could be a bit dangerous, and at this point she was fairly certain the redhead wasn’t stacking them for fun. She excused herself from conversation with Le Clothe, and walked over to the redhead.
“Hmm…I would complement you on your impeccable chair-arranging skills, but I doubt you are trying to make some form of modern art.” Livia quietly spoke as she approached the child. “Roux, what exactly are you doing?” Her voice was soft, trying to be as non threatening as she could manage.
The one named Roux jumped slightly, despite the tone. She lowered the chair she was holding to the ground. She knew what she was doing was ridiculous when she thought about it, but the objects were a painful reminder of a life that was her experience less than a week ago. She wasn't sure how to respond, so she instead opted to look at the ground, embarassed. '... I ..."
She put two fingers together, clearly deep in thought. It took her a minute, but she finished her sentence. "... don't want them near me ..."
Livia quickly put two and two together, and gave the child a small smile. It was obviously something from her captivity. However, as much as she’d like the child to simply not have to deal with this…that was probably not a good idea in the long run. She wasn’t much of a psychologist…but she could do her best here.
“I understand.” She replied simply, and after a moment, the older woman knelt down to the child’s level. “Being afraid of something is okay. I can’t say I have things I’m not afraid of either, especially when I was your age.” She gave the redhead a small smile. “But, losing to your fears is never a good thing, Little Roux. You are strong, I do not think there is anything you can’t face if you wish. You’ve endured a lot to be here now, haven’t you?” With that said, Livia stood giving a small sigh. She hadn’t expected to deal with something so…serious at the moment, but she couldn’t say she minded.
“Besides, if you ever need help with anything…all you have to do is ask someone who cares about you, do you not?” She offered the Roux another smile, before moving over to the chairs herself, lifting one with relative ease, and brought it over to the place she had been stacking them.
Little Roux lowered her eyes, believing she was being lightly scolded by her new keeper. But any fear the teenager had promplty disappeared as Livia decided to help her move the remaining chairs. After the two stacked the chairs up, the red headed girl walked briskly to the other side of the desk, distancing herself from the evil objects as much as possible.
A few seconds later and an assortment of artistic supplies were spread before her, and the redhead assembled a face of incredible concentration as she bit her lip focusing her thoughts. A second later, a small grin spread across the girl's face as she started to draw.
It was probably the first thing resembling a smile she'd given off in a long time.
The only thing surprising about how she drew was the speed at which she did it. It wasn't as if her hand moved at a supernaturally fast rate, but rather that she never had to turn the pencil over to erase a mistake. The sort of skill that one spent lifetimes perfecting - which unknown to the red head, she had.
A few minutes passed, and a detailed image assembled itself on the page. A larger, taller version of herself was featured, perhaps a few years older than she was now. It wasn't out of the question, but it was obviously a little idealized.
A knee length dress of red on the top, suddenly trasforming to black as it passed the hips and had cuts up the sides to allow movement. At the very bottom of the hemline, thin curves of red headed up from the bottom which gradually dissapeared as they approached the top. Black thighhighs were added, along with extended gloves for each arm. A black collar with a thin red stripe through the middle provided additional support to the outside straps that supported the dress. A few finishing details and several red wavy belt things added later, the girl appeared satisfied as she eyed her handiwork with a critical eye.
Livia was glad that was over with. She hoped she had done well in explaining things to little roux, but…well, that was that. She seemed happy, so that was enough for now. Onto the dresses, then.
The headmistress kept quiet as the girl started drawing. Well, she was certainly good at it. In fact, if she wanted too she could probably become an excellent artist judging from how well she was drawing. She wondered if some of her skills from her previous lives were kept between them. Would memories do the same, then? That might…be problematic if she remembered Sorcha.
Well…she’d deal with that if it happened. For now, she needed to get her some proper clothes.
“My, you certainly can draw well. Is this what you want, then? It’s certainly…ah, unique.” She replied. Not that it was bad, really. It was just something she hadn’t seen before.
After a moments hesitation, the shorter girl nodded. Grabbing a rather full basket of various garments, the two headed up towards the counter. "... Fire-resistant fabric..."The tailor nodded, raising an eyebrow at Livia to make sure she was ready to pay for this. After recieving a confirmation from the headmistress, he informed little Roux to head to one of the circles and wait.
After Roux obediently headed to one of the circles on the floor, the tailor pulled various boxes of cloth onto the other as he observed each sample of clothing.
He pressed his foot down onto the floor and instantly the girl's clothes changed on her body. The sweatpants and T-Shirt fell into a neat pile on the side as a long red dress appeared on the headmistress' adopted daughter. After yelping the first time in surprsise to a stifled laugh from the tailor, it became a routine as various bits of cloth dissapeared from the bins only to find themselves clinging to her a moment later. Some articles of clothing took more than one time as the tailor 'trimmed' them to perfection, but eventually they worked through all the sample pieces.
He observed her drawing, raising an eyebrow. A gruff voice came from Le Clothe's throat. "Well, I'll be damned. This girl actually can draw. You'd be surprised how much 'interpretation' I have to do with some of them." It still took the tailor several tries to create what the girl was requesting, but eventually he finished. "You know the rules. Bring the old articles back and I'll give a fifty percent materials discount. She should grow quickly, so I want you to remember that." He headed behind the counter, handing the headmistress a reciept. The twenty dresses ended up costing around ten grand. The girl was wearing her personally designed dress now, looking more than a little pleased with the outcome.
Livia simply observed silently. She was quite used to the process herself, so it wasn’t anything new to her. She simply waited for the process to complete, and for the little Roux’s dress to be completed. Thankfully, it didn’t take Le Clothe long to finish. As usual, he was very good at his job. Now, there was only the matter of the bill. When Le Clothe handed it to her, the headmistress simply sighed. Wow. Okay, that was not the amount she had been expecting. She knew it was going to be expensive, but...Well…
“You like the dress, then little Roux?” It was obvious the girl did like it. She had to admit, it was a fairly pretty article of clothing. “Then I will pay for it, since I think this is a special occasion.” She replied, a small frown forming on her lips. “But next time, you will chose something cheaper, or pay for it yourself, understand? And I do not mean with those tears of yours, either.”
Little Roux looked down as she was scolded, nodding in response to Livia's statement. The tailor gruddingly wished them a good day as the two headed towards the door after paying. Just before they finished leaving though, the footsteps behind Livia stopped in their tracks.
“Hmm, I was thinking we could get some lunch while we were out as well, any preferences, Roux or-?” Upon noticing the girl had stopped following her Livia turned to see what the little girl was doing.
The teenager was reaching into her the sweatpant's pocket as she searched for the bottle of phoenix tears. She had overheard parts of their conversation, and had realized during their small talk that the tailor had a dying son. Grabbing it firmly, little Roux reached out as she seemed to contemplate leaving it on the window sill for the tailor to find as he did his rounds at the end of the day.
At first, Livia was a little confused. She didn’t even notice the girl had brought the bottle of tears with her. There really was no reason for them to be here, after all. The headmistress frowned, unsure of what to say or do. The Roux looked like she was contemplating something, but Livia didn’t know what…unless she had heard the conversation earlier involving Le Clothe’s son.
“Your tears?...” They…well, they could in fact help Le Clothe’s son, couldn’t they? Phoenix tears could heal almost anything. “You want to do something with them, Roux?”
The one called Roux barely in response. She felt most people would recognize that they weren't human at first glance, and an alchemist would probably realize what they were fairly quickly. After tilting her head for a moment in thought, she nodded with a bit more conviction.
…ah, being a parent was a bit draining, wasn’t it?
“Well…they are your tears, Roux.” Livia replied. “And your tears are indeed special. They can heal almost anything. I cannot force nor make you leave them. That is up to you, dear.” Livia paused for a moment. She considered Le Clothe a friend, and she’d have given him the tears herself…she had a few vials Gall had brought back, as well. They could do something good for once and save someone’s life. So that just boiled down to what little Roux here wanted to do.
“Do you want to use them to save someone, Roux?”
Roux paused for contemplation after hearing the headmistresses words. The teenager understood suffering better than most, and if she could end another's at the price of a little time and some painful memories, she felt she should. The girl nodded again, getting on the tips of her toes as she placed the vial onto the window sill, looking at them for a moment before returning her eyes to the ground again.
“You are a good child,” Livia smiled gently. She was even more convinced now that the roux wasn’t the tyrant that her past life could have been.
“So there is no need to constantly look at the ground.” She continued with a small laugh. With that out of the way then, the Headmistress turned her attention back to Le Clothe. The girl may have had good intentions, but she should probably at least tell him about it in the most subtle way she could, before someone else came along and grabbed it.
“Aha, sorry for taking up space in your store, Le Clothe.” She replied with a slight bow. “The Roux had something she wanted to ask.” She gave him a friendly smile. “And I think…there is still hope for your son to recover.” She made a small gesture towards the window with the bottle sitting on it.
“Come along then, Roux. We don’t want to waste any more of Le Clothe’s time.” She continued before he or Roux could say anything, and ushered the girl out of the store.
The tailor later put two and two together. Any time the 'Little Roux' returned to the store, she mysteriously always recieved a 90% discount to account "for the honor of allowing a goddess to wear his garb".
"Knowledge is only power in one chooses to use it"
The small boy responds proudly after being requested to reveal his name and title. "Magierprinz Swen Runvall Von Zauberbuch is my full title. Father is the Magierfurst of my noble house of Von Zauberbuch, a reigning Prince-Mage over our family lands in the lands of northwestern Germany."
Age: "I'm sixteen years old. Although my inheritance is a distance away, I still expect you to treat me with respect due to the heir of a Princely state."
Gender: "Agnotic Primogenture sends the succession to me, a male."
Race: Human
Sexuality: "As a member of Von Zauberbuch, I intend to continue my princely line."
Alchemy: Grimore Schreiben From a young age, the Magierprinz practiced the art of writing in gold and transfering mana into a book in order to be able to be able to eventually use the grand dynastic grimore.
On the bright side, using the lesser Grimore is incredibly mana light and takes up almost no time at all. (Go down to Catalyst to read more). He's currently working on being able to use the Grimore as a teleporting turret and lower the cast times of his spells, but it is quite a bit of work at this point to improve.
Prima: Wind Schneiden Many thin black slices of air fly at a high velocity towards his target up to 50 feet away. Aside from causing a lot of superficial cuts, currently they don't do too much damage unless one chooses to stand in the line of fire. Although light on the mana pool, alone they don't do much damage.
Immuto: Verfall A powerful support spell designed to bring down an enemy over time. Many mages have healing magic and many familiars have some sort of regenerative ability., but aside from the most powerful of healing magics or abilities, Verfall prevents healing of already existing wounds on a target. Appearing as a lance of darkness traveling at high speed, upon impact the lance shatters and small fragments of it jump into preexisting wounds. On the downside, it doesn't do any damage and the target must already be wounded to have an effect.
Other Magics: Sven spends some time studying other magics in order to gain a foundational understanding of them so he can understand how to manage magic in his Principality when he inherits the throne.
Catalyst: Lesser Grimore of Von Zauberbuch: A large, 10 pound Wyrven-leather covered book with a massive lock on it. Despite it's weight, it only contains about fifty pages worth of material.
A spell written within it takes up a number of pages depending on it's complexity, requiring to be written in a fine, golden ink. After the writing was finished, a mage had to pour some mana into it in order to seal the words onto the page. A massive explosion can take up to ten pages, and takes about an hour per page to prepare. Additionally, the Grimore has a preperation time before firing a spell (about a second per page) allowing the enemies to be aware of what is going on (If they know latin, at least). After a spell is fired, the ink dissapears and the spell must be rewritten at a later point in time.
Right now the fourteen year old carries it from an attached chain slung over his left arm, the nobleman bearing it's weight as he walks around.
The key to it is attatched by chain inside a small pocketwatch that he wears from his neck at all times.
Other Skills: From the halls of nobility, Swen has a good idea about doing the casual noble arts: ballroom dancing, playing the piano, and courtly grace are skills he has aquired throughout the year.
Inventory: The Lesser Grimore The Pocketwatch & Key Fancy Clothes
Familiar: (Considering his background, it would only make sense for him to have one. Post in the OOC or PM me if interested)
Personality: Valuing his noble title a little too much, the Magierprinz relies on it as a crutch in the outside world. Being his first year at this school, he doesn't realize that there are far too many self-important nobles running around.
On that note, he also respects those of higher rank, believing that God has graced them with power for a reason.
Despite these flaws, at his core Swen is a chivarlric man. He believes that it his god given duty to protect the weak, the old, and the women from any harm that may become them, and assist them with their day to day lives.
Strongly believing in the concept of honor, he will never lie and considers lying purely by omission to be dishonorable conduct.
Fairly immature, he still has a lot of growing up to do.
Backstory: Born as the son of a reigning Prince-Mage, Swen has grown up with wealth and splendor surrounding him. From a young age, he was raised mostly by servants and other people in the court, only seeing his busy parents formally during dinner and perhaps and hour afterwards each day. This doesn't mean that his parents were cruel or unemotional, just that they dedicate themselves to ruling over their lands to ensure justice for every citizen.
Because of this enviorment, Swen started to become a recluse. He would focus on books a little more than what would normally be considered healthy, and found very few friends that were his age. Although this allowed him to excel at magic for his age, his parents eventually saw the flaw in his lack of connections to others his age and sent him off to Liseranna to help him socially adjust.
Appearance: Standing taller than most men at six fleet flat, his muscular build gives the appearance of a warrior. A glance at his face reveals an unkempt dark gray beard along with green eyes that reveal either kindness or ambition depending on the moment.
An older set of gray dragon scale armor adorns his body, a white surcoat with the cross of Arx being thrown over the armor. The only distinguishing accessory from any other warrior is a copper necklace holding a pendant of a bronze double headed eagle.
Age: Twenty One
Gender: Male
Class: Formally Serf, now Warrior class.
Personality: While he prefers kindness over pain, Lucanas is ambitious. Hypocritical in the sense that he believes in tradition when it benefits him and ignores him when they don't, life is an attempt to claw your way to the top in a world still surrounded by wilderness. Having lived at the bottom rungs of society though, he does have some sympathy for those beneath him, and has a strange sense of honor and loyalty that won't allow him to betray a true friend or cause unnecessary suffering in another.
Backstory: The son of a whore, Lucanus lived in the slums of Arx off the meager income his mother's occupation provided. Eventually a job with a noble from Vicariis went wrong, and she was left mortally wounded on the streets. Handing her son a necklace, she told him that she would always watch over him, and that he should strive to live a better life.
Eventually the seven year old was picked up by the local guards, and after realizing his status as an orphan trained him to quest for a tower. Sworn into celibacy to avoid attachments to anything but his mission, he trained and exercised constantly in an effort to survive the brutal countryside.
For the past few years as his training has come towards an end, the warrior has lived a life of relative comfort outside of a few unfortunate incidents where local beasts have pressed against the walls.
Skills and Divine Abilities: Eagle's Eyes: Unsure how it's power was gained, when wearing the necklace the warrior finds his senses are enhanced before something happens, making it nearly impossible to genuinely surprise him from the shadows.
Knightly Training: Going through a lifetime of training for slaying great beasts and patrolling the streets have lead Lucanus to learning how to fight with melee weapons better than the vast majority of the population, preferring to wield hand and a half or two handed weapons.
Equipment: Gray Dragonscale Armor: Lighter, less expensive, and more comfortable than steel plate, Lucanas has preferred this type of armor since it would be more convenient to wear when expected to travel. Great Axe: An axe on one side, a hammer at the other, and a spear tip at the end make this an ideal all purpose weapon for slaying larger beasts. Bastard Sword: A sword that can be wielded with either one hand or two, this sword is the middle ground between a broadsword and the large great axes. Rope And Weapon Maintenance Kit A sack filled with Rations and bedding A leather canteen for Water Double Headed Eagle Necklace
Appearance: Megstamia stands as an hourglass figure at five foot five, lightly tanned skin showing that she has spent some time in the sun. Large yellow eyes with a tinge of green look either downwards nervously at the ground in submission, or straight into another's if begging. Wheat colored hair runs in waves reaching the small of her back, although she ties it up if it is practical.
Ears with fur the same color of her mane stand out at a slight angle, small waves in fur mimicking those of her hair. When walking, a tail usually sporting a bow comes from behind her waving back and forth. When she runs though, it acts as a balancing mechanism to allow her to be oddly graceful with her feet.
A brown leather collar makes this it obvious that she belongs to the bottom of the social ladder. A lighter stone of the same color hangs from it, indicating her owner's house is Soyala. A small pendant hanging from beneath that further specifies her specific owner. While it isn't a steel shackle, the reality is that it is impossible to remove without a key from her master.
A slave really has no choices in their fashion. She tends to be better dressed than many slaves, her master putting his in white dresses or in a lightly colored shirts. Tamia has a silver anklet, a gift from her master. Despite her abuse, she never removes this.
Name: When asked for identification from a noble, the slave turns around and submissively looks towards the ground. "This is property of House Soyala ..." A hand lifts up a gemstone attached to the collar as proof of her owners. She nervously speaks after a few seconds, wondering what they want. "... My gracious owners call me Tamia when this slave has behaved in a manner deserving of a name."
Gender: Female
Age: 17
Race: Cat (Neko), Unable to transform back.
Personality: Having lived a lifetime of slavery, Tamia has always been in submission. She hates making decisions, and if given the opportunity for freedom would likely choose a similar position with better working conditions.
Even if she won't admit it to a stranger, it is obvious that she considers a scratch behind the ears and a little pampering to be the ultimate award. If a master decided to treat her with anything resembling kindness, they would find her to be a loyal force. Even if they are cruel to her, she generally wants for others to be happy.
Megstamia however despises hard labor, and being ordered to lift heavy weights generally puts her in a sour mood. However she enjoys the intimacy of others, this characteristic in combination with the others making her ideal in some ways as a more personal attendant.
Both the stereotypes of the 'scaredy cat' and 'curiosity killed the cat', she constantly finds new things and absorbs information like a sponge.
If she had the choice of a holiday, it would to be having a picnic during a sunny day, and receiving the a good deal of pampering with the company of another.
Bio: Megstamia's mother died in childbirth, her litter of three being spread out between several noble households. The neko inherited nothing other than her name before being sent of to Soyala.
From before she can remember, the child was collared and working around the house. Although initially doing light cleaning around the manor, she eventually was put into the kitchens and shown to have a talent for it.
Aside from a sadistic matriarch, the majority of slave work around the house was done in reasonable conditions. Although meat was restricted for holidays, none of the servants ever starved. Although crowded, the quarters were dry and warm in the winters, and reasonably cool in the summers.
Tamia never attended school, but as her body matured she was chosen as the favorite by Eirwen's father. Constantly in the proximity of him, she eventually learned how to read and obtained a very basic education. If he needed something done, she was expected to work towards it. She was expected to stay up longer than he did and take care of him throughout the night, and wake up before him and bring breakfast. As a reward for her loyalty, she was constantly handed presents from him.
At first, things continued as normal. The abuse from the matriarch increased steadily throughout the years as Eirwen's mother began to worry there was a relationship outside the purely sexual.
Wanting to protect his favorite pet and placate his wife (and not to have her die and pay for a new one) Eirwen's father assigned Megstamia to be Eirwen's personal attendant.
She is reluctant and scared about the journey ahead, although curious.
Abilities/Skills/Magic: Balance It's been tested. Megstamia literally lands on her feet constantly, and it seems that no drop can injure her.
Animal Instincts The neko's ears hear sharply even for her own kind, and her smell is uncanny to a normal man.
Irregular Alchemy Cooking abilities eventually developed further, until Tamia could mix herbs in such a way as to produce strange effects. Her food tasted VERY good, and could literally make the entire family laugh in cheer. After being beaten once the owners figured out what she was doing, she was later allowed to continue down that path once they discovered her innocence.
Mostly left to party tricks, her ability comes in handy more times than one would expect.
"Victorywillbeours! ... I mean - ahem, let's end them ..."
Standing at 5'6'' with a smirk on her face and long black hair running between the small bat style wings on her back, Vilivyn is usually found wearing one of the black dresses that her step mother purchased her, along with a necklace from her father and a pair of earrings her mom purchased her. The teenager usually wears some combination of black, silver, and pink if given the choice.
Her tail is thin and pointy, usually adorned by some small piece of silver jewelry. Although she will wear one if forced, the girl tends to avoid longer dresses as they tend to restrict the movement of her tail.
Race: Spirit Touched, with a human father and a demonic mother. Catalyst: The silver band around her tail helps Vilivyn conduct magical powers. Sex: Female Age: 17
Backstory
Vilivyn is the product of an adventurer who claimed to have gone above the tenth floor by some mishap and a powerful archdemoness who happened to be wondering the lower levels for some reason. The demoness wanted to exert her power ... and Vilivyn showed up at the doorstep of her father, Anthony Santio, nine months later with a note for explanation. Despite the conditions of her arrival and her appearance the constant reminder of his tormenter, her drunken father raised her to the best of his ability and with as much love as he could muster for the first fourteen years of their life. Although the pair of them were poor and periodically Vilivyn offered herself on the streets ... one day Anthony decided to clean up his act, and ended up getting noticed while performing hard labor by a majestic and noble elven sorceress, Kythela Draíochta.
While one could expect for the story to end her with an abusive stepmother, the opposite instead found itself true - along with her step siblings and soon to come along half sibling, all the children were raised by tutors of various kinds, with Kythela herself assisting the succubus as much as her elven children with training both arcane and mundane. Kythela and Anthony formed a powerful bond, acting as an umbrella for Vilivyn against the racism and hatred that the general population sometimes felt for her.
And after advising caution, both of them were supportive of her reasons to enter the tower. As the daughter of an archdemoness, she had power far beyond her years she needed to hone. As a personal journey, she needed to find her mother and ask her some questions ... and perhaps find someone who could show her a different path. And finally as a journey for all those related to spirits, Vilivyn wants to conquer the tower for her people, to show them their glorious nature. If a party somehow managed to reach the top ... Vilivyn feels that those related to spirits deserve a representative.
Personality: Vilivyn may have suffered a harsh past, but in truth due to her recently privileged background she sometimes forgets the rare racism and poverty, mostly appearing with a smile and the enthusiasm of youth. Sometimes, she tries to get taken seriously for 'the sake of her people', and tends to become purposefully cruel and stern, although it is rather obvious to see through when it is simply an act.
The only thing that seems to be able to get under her skin is racism and people treating her like a succubus - in these cases, she will try to act incredibly happy, but in truth end up being cruel and stern. And she will probably cry in a corner later, depending on the content of what occurred.
Most of the time though, she is headstrong and confident, pretending to ignore the advise of others since she is 'the leader'. However, she will often follow it at a later date, but if asked will say it was her own idea and minimize the other's input.
Skills: -Flight: Even without Siren combined within her, Vilivyn is still capable of using her demonic heritage to clumsily fly around. -Demonic Magic: Using her infernal heritage, Vilivyn is able wield darkness to harm creatures of various sizes. So far, she knows two spells in this category. Hex, which allows for herself and teammates to deal additional damage to a creature, and also allows her to know it's location for about an hour. However, the spell does no damage without the assistance of an outside force. Arrow of Darkness allows Vilivyn to launch a long ranged projectile created of pure negative energy, gathering up any shadows it passes by to add to it's strength. Light however, reduces the effects of the spell. -Entrance: As the daughter of a succubus, Vilivyn is capable of entering the dreams of another creature. After several years of practice on willing victims, she is able to use this to see their desires, manipulate their imaginations, and sometimes even change their disposition in person. Additionally, understanding dreams and imagination makes her resistant to any mind altering effects.
1. The target has to be asleep, at least for now. She's tried using it on awake targets, but the person had to be willing to receive the effect. 2. It is known that demons of Vilivyn's type use this sort of magic. So if she does use it on a person ... well, there's only one succubus in the party. 3. This is not mind control - perhaps after a month of manipulating someone, she can change their view on something. She simply has the ability to alter what they dream of while they sleep, so she can give a person terrible nightmares or wonderful naps. 4. In regards to desire, it is only in broad terms. So if a person wants love, she will get an emotion of love from that person, even if they have an idea in mind. If Okami wants Lena and only Lena, she will see Lena and get an idea that Okami wants a positive relationship but not of what sort - this isn't absolute understanding especially since most people really don't know exactly what they want in life anyways.
(Note: Not Immunity) License: 29(60) - Controlled
Vilivyn received Siren as a gift from her mother within the tower, the small creature landing on her head an refusing to leave until they formed a contract. Although initially irritated at accepting the gifts of her absentee mother and considering accepting a far more powerful familiar offered to her by Kythela, the demoness seems happy with her choice.
Animal Form: A bat that likes eating bugs, especially butterflies. As a spirit Kin, Vilivyn can talk to her familiar and use it somewhat as a seeing eye for places she can't reach. Material Form: A large Bat wing shaped scythe that would normally be horrendously impractical, but just feels right in Vilivyn's hands. The blade hints at giving off some sort of demonic power down the line ... but for now, it is simply a good weapon. User Form: When morphing with Vilivyn, Siren grants her mistress the power of explosive flight by expanding Vilivyn's wings, the demoness capable of truly flying rather than the clumsy half-flight her small wings are normally capable of.
