[CHAR] Allaria Ch. 4: Rescue and Escape

[MelonHead]

Akael

Character Sheet

Name: Akael

Age: 37

Race: Surface Elf (Rakash Jungle Tribe)

Class: Major and Minor

Major: Witch Doctor/Tribal Apothecary (Essentially a tribal doctor)

Minor: Poisoner

God: El’l (Image somewhat different to normal surface Elves)

Appearance: Jungle Elves of the Rakash tribe span the line between the Drow and Surface Elf. Their skin is darker and greener in colouration, a significant advantage in their leafy homeland which they have lived in for thousands of years, long enough to evolve adaptive characteristics suitable for the jungle. Akael has a lighter green colouration than is normal, giving him a more ordinary Elf appearance, though anything more than cursory glance will cause someone to notice his skin is faintly green rather than tanned. His face is angular and each cheek is tattooed with a thin wavy black line made up of strange runes. He has green eyes and shoulder length brown hair that’s tied into messy dread-locks.

He stands at roughly 5ft 8” tall and has a thin wiry build. He tends to wear a brown travellers cloak to hide his appearance and something which looks like brown leather shorts, with no shoes or a shirt.

Reference: http://smg.photobucket.com/user/Evercursed/media/Header/Ambush.jpg.html

Personality: Akael has a grim sense of humour and is prone to periods of morally questionable activity. He is however fervently devoted to his tribe, but this also means he is fairly xenophobic and bad at unfamiliar social interaction. He can come across as cruel or mean and often scares members of the resistance when he is employed with them, which is a poor trait for a doctor, but an excellent trait for a poisoner.

Spirit Animal: Gasp Lizard

Equipment: Mortar and Pestle, Three Reinforced Glass Flasks, Water Skin, Bone Knife, Apothecary Belt, Apothecary Satchel.

Ingredients: Xen Root (Mild Curative)
Jal Root (Mild Sedative)
Hemus Root (Severe Laxative)
Roka Dust (Powerful Effect Enhancer)
Gasp Poison (Lethal Poison)
Jora Dust (Mild Coagulant)
Relkan Leaf (Mild Painkiller)
Venr Antivenom (Powerful Anti-Poison)
Jorna Sap (Powerful Stimulant)

Skills:
Major: Witch Doctor
Minor: Assassin

Magic: Although Akael seems to have no inherent magic, his ability to create potions and recognise plants and ailments has been described as uncanny, it is possible he has some sort of supernatural insight.

Strength: Akael has the interesting duality of a basic healer and a poisoner all in one, giving him the ability to produce chemical agents for a wide variety of situations and a significant amount of flexibility. He is incredibly competent when traversing the Jungle, and can avoid the dangers of such a place with ease.

He is also fairly competent at using a knife in combat, especially when using Rakasha potion, which is a powerful stimulant that increases his reaction times, speed and endurance at the cost of shaking and fatigue after the effects wear off.

Weakness: Akael is poor with a bow, which is unusual for a Surface Elf and a serious disadvantage considering his skills. The reason for this is his near addiction to Rakasha Potion, which causes similar effects to ADHD and makes careful aim and stalking difficult.
Akael knows next to nothing about social practice or the general layout of anything outside of the Jungle. He is out of his depth in a city, and may miss obvious social or physical ques and get himself into trouble.

Post Color: Delicious Green

History: Akael’s history is relatively unknown, he made contact with the resistance about three years prior after they raided an Apotheoses camp on the outskirts of the jungle where he had been taken prisoner. They released him immediately, perhaps trying to garner popularity with the Elf Tribes in the jungle, and Akael took the opportunity to flee back to his home. Eventually the Witch Doctor of the tribe, his uncle, learned about the debt Akael owed the Resistance. Partly due to this, and partly because the Witch Doctor foresaw the destruction of the Jungle should the Apotheoses prove victorious, Akael was sent back to the resistance to serve. Surprisingly they were fairly enthusiastic about his service, though as his skills became apparent many grew fearful, and others saw opportunity.

Post Sample: You’ve probably read a hundred of my posts by now, you must be bored of my writing ^_^

[Vanq]

Ceinna

Name:
Ceinna, "Michael's Maiden"

Age:
25

Race:
Human

Class: Major and Minor
Major:
Courtesan, escort, companion, lady of the night, <insert other euphemisms>

Minor:
Spy

God:
Michael

Appearance:
Reference
Average human height and delicately curvy. Long, honey blonde hair never in the same style twice, or so it would seem. Dark green eyes and flushed lips.

Personality:
Ceinna has always been malleable - empathic she would insist. Her personality can shift, and has shifted so many times that it could be hard to pin down who the real her is. Beneath the layers of play and pretend is a woman shaped by her experiences. Slow to form true emotion, she is quick to go with whomever is the loudest voice, the most persuasive or charismatic - a follower not a leader. While her chosen profession does not leave room to outwardly show disdain, she is not overly fond of dwarves or goblins. She is not broken by what she is, Ceinna is satisfied - enough - with what she has done with her life. While she would rather live in the lap of luxury rather than tough it out, she is not a wilting flower the moment her boot hits mud.

Spirit Animal:
Black-billed magpie

Equipment:

• Small embroidered pouch containing powdered minerals and charcoals, hairpins, small vial of scented oil and a length of red ribbon.
• Small knife - just under three inches of thin steel - secured against her shoulder

Skills:
Major:
Rapport - making herself liked and well trusted
Deceive - lies and misdirection

Minor:
Self-defense - Ceinna is not trained in any sort of martial arts, but she does have a trick or two up her sleeves when cornered and there is no other option. A well placed kick to the groin, a jab in the eyes, and when able, pulling her knife from it's hiding place to inflict pain.

Magic:
None

Strength:
Nimble/dextrous, reads others' body language well, adaptable

Weakness:
Physicality - the knife is there for a quick jab and running away, Ceinna has never used a true weapon in her life.
Grief - particularly where children are concerned or brought up in conversation (more likely to be a triggering event, but can occur without a visual/audible trigger), due to recent events, Ceinna can find herself overwhelmed by her loss and be rendered to not much more than a quivering pile of sobs

Post Color: Thistle.

History:
The woman has had many origin stories. A sweet farm girl, corrupted by the strange city. An exotic dancer, bound and sold only to buy back her own freedom. The daughter of a lowly prostitute, not content with the dilapidated brothel she called home.

Ceinna, though, was never any of these. She was sent to the house of an illustrious Madam to mold into a highly sought after courtesan. Her training, and she never speaks of a time before her training, began at the tender age of nine. She would bathe the working courtesans, help tend to their clothes, do their makeup and hair. Her actual training for the arts began with watching the courtesans work from the crawl spaces that were built into the walls. It wasn't until she had seen her thirteenth birthday, that Ceinna began working directly with the clientele.

She became a favorite quickly, not only for her body and what she could do with it, but for the level of comfort that she gave. Some men just wanted to talk, and Ceinna proved quite capable at getting to the actual fears or regrets that plagued them. What continuously surprised the madam was just how malleable she was. From one appointment to another, she shifted into whatever character the client expected to see.

That did not mean that the inherent risks associated with selling herself were lost on her. She had her share of admirers who did not know when enough was enough, of men who thought they owned her, rather than rented her. For most of the ten years that she worked for the Madam in Rocoa, though, she did well for herself. No great harm befell her and unlike many of her peers, she did not become pregnant, in truth she concluded she must have been barren. This did not bother her deeply, while she could feel maternal, a child and the change it would mean was not a welcome thought.

All good things must end, though.

It was not the first time she had serviced one of the Apotheoses. Not a high ranking member by any means, but still one of the them, Ceinna welcomed the opportunity it could bring. He was a peculiar man with peculiar tastes, but nothing that gave her or the madam pause. A few weeks in to a series of regular appointments, though, he broached the possibility of buying her from the madam. The madam delicately declined the offer. It wasn't the first time a client had tried to do so, and perhaps if pressed more, as one of the Apotheoses, the madam would have bent to his wishes. Instead, he tried to convince Ceinna to leave on her own accord and was gently dissuaded.

Or so they thought.

Shortly after, Ceinna found herself pregnant and reasonably sure of who the father was. It was a long nine months, the Apotheoses swung between obsessively calling on her and would then avoid the bordello for weeks. Gifts would arrive sporadically, elegant gold chains, silks, perfumes.

She gave birth to little boy, Averitt. With soft blonde hair like her own, she looked at him and couldn't help but feel the maternal desire to nurture the boy. No matter how much she saw the Apotheoses in his face.

Not a month after giving birth, while walking the streets of Rocoa, tragedy struck. Onlookers would swear to the Apotheoses that it was certainly an accident or even the whore's fault for not holding tighter to her infant. Ceinna knew better, the men that jostled her ripped Averitt from her arms. She screamed in horror, only able to watch as horses trampled the wailing infant. And when she looked up, for just a brief moment, she saw him observing, with a revolting smile across his lips.

Ceinna made it back to the madam's house long enough to pack a small bag and flee the city.

While she had managed to avoid the upheaval and dissent that rumbled with the rise of the Apotheoses, she now had vengeance in her heart. He had destroyed her new world and joy, and now, she would find a way to do the same.

Post Sample: Here.

[GreivousKhan]

Lanariel Var Shalas

"Do you think the dead care little if they sleep or rise again?..."

Lanariel Vanalan d'Thuranni Of Var Shalas to a necromancer of the Cult of Vol

Name: Lanariel Vanalan

Age: 132

Race/Sex: Elf Female

Class: Major and Minor

Major: Necromancer

Height: 5’8

Eyes: Dark Grey

Weight: 135 Ib

Minor: Scholar

God:

Appearance: Lanariel Vanalan is a little over the average height of most elves. A hint to her peculiar oddity among her own kind. Trained as a temple guard before becoming a necromancer, Lanariel carries herself with the build and strength of a fighter, with clearly defined muscles. She is also rather gorgeous even by elven standards. Her skin a pale ashen that possess haunting beauty, with light grey eyes and silver hair shoulder length though often tied into a ponytail as to avoid it getting in her way when fighting. She wears a deathmask face paint, obsidian black on the outsides and a milk white skull face that magnifies her grey eyes and gives her a frightening appearance. The paint is a throwback to her time living in Aerenal and she often only wears it when on assignments. She wears a long black coat, the tail of which goes as far as the back of her heels. The coat is hooded and made of light fabric and suede.

She is wrapped in white ceremonial cloth that covers most of her body but for her face, though sometimes obfuscates the lower part of her face when on assignments.

Personality: Lanariel Vanalan is inherently an introvert by nature. She prefers her research and solitude to large gatherings with strangers. Because of this, when faced with a problem she becomes almost single minded in solving it or finding a solution. She can be rather eccentric when it comes to her work. She possess a morbid fascination with death and specifically the undying. Which has colored her opinion on life itself. Lanariel tends to see life itself as both precious and imperfect. Thus she has spent many years in finding the key to immortality even as she researches new types of undead her House may make use of. She holds those who would disrespect the dead in low regard, hence her dislike of necromancers. Her dislike of the art has not stopped her study of it in hopes of countering it. Lanariel tends to speak little and when she does it is often in a high whisper, as she dislikes having to raise her voice unnecessarily.

Spirit Animal: A animal/creature representation of your spirit, a spiritual guide if you will. This allows for, rare, communication with your chosen God, if any.

Equipment:

Quater-staff:
Lanariel carries a bone forged quarterstaff for self defense, though mostly to channel her spells.
Haversack-
Tent
Bedroll
Holy water (flask) x 3
Rations x 4
Waterskins x 2
Hooded lantern
3 pints of oil (in two vials)
Sack

Pouch, belt-
Coin x 30
Spell component pouch
flint and steel

Skills:

Spellcraft- Major
Liber Mortis- Lanariel is well versed in over a dozen different kinds and species of undead. Allowing her to recognize different kinds along with their strengths and weaknesses. As well as a degree of spells focused around necromancy. Minor



Magic: Spell examples
Spells-
Disrupt Undead: Lanariel directs a ray of positive energy. If the ray hits an undead creature, it weakness it considerably.

Create Thrall: Through the use of blood magic and necromancy Lanariel can resurrect the dead into obedient servants. The process takes at least one hour of preparation for each corpse in involving the creation of complex runes. The outward sign that an undead creature has been spellstitched by Lanariel is its rune-covered body. The runes are carved into the bones of skeletal undead or tattooed on the rotting flesh of other corporeal undead. These runes may not be immediately noticeable to an observer, appearing to be cracks in bones or wrinkles in the skin.

True Strike: Lanariel gains temporary, intuitive insight into the immediate future during her next attack for a moment. Increasing the chance to land a blow.

Ray of Enfeeblement: A coruscating ray springs from her hand. Drastically decreasing the strength of those hit by it.

Death Mask: Lanariel's death mask also carries a familiar within it. A ghostly visage who has long since lost the memory of his name. As a incorporeal being it can do little physically, aside from frighten the unwary when revealed.

Bane: Bane fills her enemies with fear and doubt, the spell is a 20 foot cone of effect.

Detect Undead: Lanariel can detect the aura that surrounds undead creatures. The amount of information revealed depends on how long she can study a particular area.

Chill Touch: A touch from her hand, which glows with blue energy, disrupts the life force of living creatures. Each touch channels negative energy causes them to rot rapidly. The touched creature rapidly loses strength and stamina.

Blindness/Deafness: A lengthy curse spell, Lanariel calls upon the powers of unlife to render the subject blinded or deafened, as she chooses. The curse is temporary.

Command Undead: This spell allows her some degree of control over an undead creature. Assuming the subject is intelligent, it perceives her words and actions in the most favorable way. It will not attack her while the spell lasts. Unintelligent undead immediately fall under her power.

Ghoul Touch: Imbuing herself with negative energy, this spell allows her to paralyze a single living humanoid for the duration of the spell with a successful melee touch attack. It lasts at most one minute.

Spectral Hand: A ghostly, glowing hand shaped from her life force materializes and moves as she desires, allowing her to deliver low-level, touch range spells at a distance.

Strength: Lanariel Of Var Shalas is a practiced virtuoso of the arcane art involving necromancy as well as the preparation and preservation of corpses. She is trained in the use of basic self defense as well primarily with a quarterstaff. Using her natural agility and speed to avoid danger whenever possible.

Weakness:
Frail
Lanariel is unsurprisingly physically weak, not possessing the stamina of a human fighter. Thus a prolonged engagement is to her detriment.
Slow Healing
Lanariel recovers from wounds much more slowly, with her exposure to negative energy making normal healing magic less effective for her.
Anti-social
Lanariel has little in the way of people skills or the use of diplomatic methods.

Post Color: DeepPink

History: Lanariel Vanalan was born in Var Shalas on 866 YK, daughter to Huran Vanalan and his lover Shiariel Thuranni. Lanariel’s early years were uneventful, though even young she revealed an unnatural skill at excelling in any art or work she put her mind to. She became a point of pride for her father; especially considering he sired no children after her. To this end she became rather close to him, though he spoke rarely of her mother, to whom which Lanariel would never meet throughout her childhood and early adult years. While her father had never been very devote, his closest friend was a high ranking priestess of the the Undying Court named Arilva. She would speak often of the virtuous and tenants of the faith to Lanariel whenever the two were together.

Arilva became something of a mother figure for the young impressionable Lanariel. Huran’s daughter, he found, soon took a liking to spending her free time in the temple, praying often and reading over old texts. It was believed by many she would soon take up the cloth, given her skills and aptitude. Perhaps from there even rise up to become a true noble and come closer to entering the ranks of the Undying Court.

When she had come of age, however, it became clear Lanariel’s talents were in sorcery, for she displayed gifts in the arcane that surpassed many of her peers. To this end Arilva arranged for Lanariel to train with a special sect of the church that oversaw the honored position of caring for the dead. Since it seemed unlikely now that Lanariel would become a priestess herself lest she squander her innate arcane talents. It was here that Lanariel learned the art of embalming, and started to grew a fascination with the dead and undead. To count yourself among the deathless champions and heroes of Aerenal was an astounding honor. A dream of Lanariel that she could only hope to one day obtain.

As her skills in arcane power grew she caught the eye of one of her teachers. Who decided to enroll Lanariel into a special order of the Undying Court very similar to the Deathguard made up entirely of duskblades and other spellswords. Only their aim was to not only destroy rogue undead, but also protect the special burial crypts of fallen elven warriors. It was during her training in this sect news of Apotheoses reached the city of Var Shalas. Fearing what this new power could mean, the council reached a decision and decided they needed to know more least this new power target them next. As she had shown some promise, and not wishing to risk a more experienced operative for the task, Lanariel was chosen to make contact with the resistance and discover as much about the situation as possible.

[DJAtomika]

Argrom Shornhoof

Name: Argrom Shornhoof

Age: 33

Race: Minotaur

Classes
Major: Farmer
Minor: Pugilist

God: Anomandaris

Appearance

Picture too big

Argrom stands a whopping seven feet eight inches tall, weighing in at an impressive 350 pounds of muscle and bulk. His eyes are a deep brown and his fur is a sandy off-white. Unlike the picture, Argrom does not wear anything on his horns, instead he keeps them at an average length, with the points dulled. He wears a brown belt made of leather (THE IRONY) which holds up a pair of plain beige pants. On this belt he has a variety of tools and pouches that hold stuff. On his wrists and ankles (just above his hooves), he wears a whole variety of colourful charm bracelets and amulets, feathers and other small coloured stones and even a gem or two. Some hand carved by his village elders, some by his family, and some by himself, of course.

Personality: In stark contrast to his bulk and appearance, Argrom is actually quite kind and soft-spoken for a huge bull on two legs. With a noble and strong spirit, he stands up for his friends a lot of the time, but usually doesn't have the volume of voice to prove his points. He is fiercely protective of those he considers family, friends and companions, and to injure one enough is akin to harming one of his own kin, to which he will respond with an ungodly rage that usually doesn't show itself often.

Spirit Animal: Ironically enough, a fish. Specifically a goldfish.

Equipment:

• Cloth hand wraps
• Bandages for small wounds and scrapes
• A variety of different charms, bracelets and amulets, mostly made of wood or stone
• Small cutting knife
• Harvesting sickle
• Pouches containing simple medicinal salves and bandages
• Hammer
• Chisel
• Small hand pickaxe

Skills
Major - Brawler
Minor - Handyman

Magic: Some have thought Argrom's boundless strength and stamina to be merely his years of being a farm hand and working his own fields all by himself. Truth be told, he doesn't know where he gets all his energy from either. It wells up within him when he works, so it feels like it never runs out at all.

Strengths:

• Being this huge minotaur, it obviously makes sense that Argrom is extremely strong, which he is. His vast strength was honed mostly from his farm work of tilling the land, hauling large amounts of crops, removing obstructions without tools and the like.
• Contrary to his size, he is also quite delicate with his big, rough hands. Having to perform precise chores like repairing tools, sewing up torn clothes and much other precision work has made Argrom very used to doing slow work with his big mitts.
• Drawing from the above, Argrom is quite adept at repairing things too. Obviously he can't fix something like a broken blade or weapon because he's not a blacksmith, but give him something like a hilt, a handle or some simple tool or piece of equipment that needs fixing and he'll fix it handily.

Weaknesses:

• Argrom cannot hold his alcohol. At all. You'd think that having such a huge body would work wonders for his tolerance of the drink, but it's the main reason why he stays sober 99% of the time. He doesn't know why or how his body is so intolerant to liquor either.
• Argrom is also quite averse to violence, preferring to solve disputes using words rather than his fists. This does not mean he is a pacifist, he just prefers to talk his way out of things, though if the situation calls for violence he will reluctantly provide. Unless provoked or enraged (or drunk) of course.
• Argrom is not fast. Being a huge hulking bull on two legs means he isn't quick or graceful at all, being unable to dodge or avoid quicker hits or even move as fast as the rest.
• Because of his country upbringing, he is also quite clueless as to the ways of cities, of most of the other religions, politics, so on and so forth. He is also educated very simply, being taught basic arithmetic and language, and not much else past that.
• He is also not good at using ranged weapons or most big melee weapons like battle axes and the like.

Post Color: Light Blue

History: Born in a quiet country village some distance from human civilisation, Argrom was brought up as a country boy through and through. As soon as he could walk, speak and learn, he was taught how to tend to the fields and the animals. From an early age Argrom followed in the footsteps of his family and ancestors; tending to the fields of wheat, corn and barley that dominated the landscape, along with the rows of vegetables and the small orchard of their village. He was also homeschooled on basic mathematics and the like, though his education was little compared to how much he learned about the life of a farmer. Through the years he grew and grew until his size dominated their household, and his strength and stamina were the biggest points of his body, though little was said about his gentler nature and his pasttimes of wood carving and figurine making.

However, the peaceful life was not to last, as soon a recruitment drive for the Resistance rolled through the area they were in. A valiant rescue attempt was to take place. The Resistance needed all able bodied men to join as military men to aid their cause. Being the biggest and strongest, Argrom was sent as the village's only soldier, and now he is part of the growing efforts of the alliance, in training to rescue Szazah.

Post Sample: You should know how I post by now, Rilla, but here, a sample.

[GreivousKhan]

I'll post where I want Rilla!

[Kimiyosis]

Kokoro

Name: Kokoro Enya, or Koko

Age: 23

Race: Human

Class:
Major: Magic Researcher
Minor: Magic Swordswoman

God: Michael

Appearance: Many an onlooker would peer at Kokoro with raised eyebrows if they knew she was a traveler. With her delicate, doll-like appearance, it isn't hard to imagine having someone like her being kept inside at all times. However, it's slightly different than a beautiful woman. While a beautiful woman is someone that men would chase to the ends of the world to claim for themselves, someone with such a delicate feel to them like Kokoro would cause the men to chase her, but also keep a small distance, almost afraid of touching her, for the fear of harming her.

Her small frame of five foot four makes her somewhat small in comparison to the average human. With brown hair that gently lightens up to a lovely shade of light yellow, reminding one of the gentle rays of sunlight. While her eyes are red, it's not exactly a true color of red, but instead a red-brown color, like a patch of clay that has recently been graced with rain. Small and nimble looking limbs, with fair skin, that has seen enough light to avoid paying, but not enough to be tanned.

Generally seen wearing light armor that seems more decorated or ceremonial than anything else, although sometimes she can be found wearing a simple sundress with a wide brim hat, though the colors and schemes may vary more widely regarding those.

Personality: Her actions and behavior fits quite nicely with her appearance. If you were to describe her in as few words as possible, they would be naive, afraid, easily frightened, and an open book. It is quite easy to tell how she feels.

However, though she may be easily read, but that does not mean she will easily speak her mind. At least, not without pressuring her into speaking. She prefers to avoid burdening others, and has a bad habit of pushing and blaming herself much more easily than others. Unfortunately, she doesn't see that, and given enough time, can be rather self-destructive, sometimes bringing out borderline suicidal tendencies.

Another problem is socializing. Extremely shy, to the point of fear when meeting strangers, people close enough to be counted as friends would be few in numbers. However, once she becomes attached to someone(or a group), she would become clingy.

Spirit Animal: Dove

Equipment: Decorated Armor, White Sundress

Skills:
Major: Magic Researcher
Minor: Magic Swordswoman

Magic: Astral Projection and Possession: Her magic revolves around using her own soul. Basically, becoming a ghost that has temporarily left her body behind. In such a form, she can be either invisible yet unable to interact with the world, or translucent but able to interact and affect the surroundings. As a 'ghost', she can possess a pile or a group of objects, thus creating a golem that she temporarily resides within, and utilizes in place of her own body. Or even 'partial possessions', where she possesses a small object at the price of temporarily loss of the use of a small part of her body(like a hand). That object can be used to eavesdrop on nearby conversations. If it's glass, it can be seen through as well. Another interesting aspect is that she can manifest a simple weapon, whether a plain sword, spear, or knife, as a translucent armament to be wielded. However, the weapon is fragile.

Strength: Most likely something accidentally trained, but Kokoro has an extremely good memory. Tell her anything, and word for word, she can repeat it back to you easily.

Another little trick she can do, also most likely learnt after possessing too many objects, is that she can listen to multiple conversations, or be a receptor to them all, and not get confused. Several people chattering away? She will easily decipher and organize them mentally.

Weakness: A very dangerous liability of hers, is that she has no battle experience. None. Not even a spar. While it sounds simple and mundane, it is not. Freezing up due to fear, legs collapsing for the same reason, unable to create proper counters to strategies. It's like saying, what looks good on paper, is much different in the real world.

Physically and mentally fragile. Interrogation, or even intimidation is rather effective on her, due to her lack of experience in regards to the harsher parts of reality.

Another problem of hers is her magic. It is both a useful tool, and yet another liability. While 'out of body', her own body is in a comatose state. Completely defenseless. And anything that she 'possesses' -or when the manifested weapon- breaks, that forces her back into her body, where she will wake up in pain. Manifested weapons causes pain at the extremities inwards, and possession works from the core outwards.

Post Color: Red

History: It is hard to say whether or not Kokoro had a good or bad life. While she was sold early in age, it was to an unusual group that she was sold to. At such a young age, she would not have been completely attached to her parents just yet. A group of scholars, who studied magic, and at that point they needed someone with magic potential to unravel the secrets of the 'Messenger Magic'. The Apotheosis has all the remaining living users of such a rare magic, with any others either killed or in hiding. Astral Projection was the next closest thing that could be utilized. However, that was a magic that required someone to disassociate themselves for beginners, which caused a lot of unstable subjects. Ow ever, Kokoro was the first, most likely due to her innate behavior trait of listening and following requests easily, without too much conflict or confusion.

Being the first successive subject, the group did everything they could to make sure that Kokoro would not become unstable. giving someone something to concentrate on was the usual method, and it seemed to work, as she her behavior was not erratic, and she even seemed to be learning and improving in regards to listening and memorizing, to the point where she became the notes, being told to memorize their notes and results of experimentation of her magic.

However, it seemed that they had managed to attract the attention of the Apotheosis, as they had burst in one day, before kidnapping everyone and raiding the building. However, unable to find up to date notes and papers regarding their research, the scholars were killed off and the corpses left behind. Luckily for Kokoro, she had been hidden by one of the scholars before the raid occurred. With the girl as the only survivor, she was now without a home nor a family, even a surrogate one at that.

A few days after the raid, while wandering about in hunger, Kokoro heard about the resistance, and the relations in regards to the Apotheosis. Upon hearing such news, she had pondered for a short moment, before making contact, and spoke of being a magic swordswoman. While one of the experiments with her magic was creating copies of weapons, she had never tried them, nor has she ever fought. But at least, it appeared enough to fool.

She wanted, no, she needed to enter the resistance, as they were her hope for making contact and studying the Apotheosis, or more specifically, the Messenger Magic users within the latter's ranks. For the final wish of the scholars that took place of her parents were about creating an improved version of that magic.

Post Sample

Quick, desperate gasps could be heard, in synced with rapid footsteps of someone running for their lives. The rustling of bushes and brambles trailed behind the runner, where the guttural yells responded with excitement. All too suddenly, the runner bursts into a clearing, the full moon illuminating the small frame of the girl. Making her way towards the middle, she turned around, before holding out her hand. Within seconds, what was once empty air, was now a translucent, rose colored sword. It was this weapon that the girl quickly grasped with both hands. Without a moments delay, her pursuers also cleared through the forest.

Four grown and well built men, mauraders if you will, stood in a semi-circle, with the girl dead in their sights. In each of their hands, was a buckler and a cutlass. Simple, yet effective. The grins and leers on their expressions were clear to any observer that these men would not have mercy, and that they were nearing the end of their chase. The translucent blade in the girl's hands might've made the mauraders wary, if it wasn't plain to see that the girl was terrified. The tip of the blade was trembling, and her legs quivering like pudding, and her face pale, it was a wonder how she hadn't collapsed just yet. One could almost taste the fear from her. With just one step from a maurader, and she had turned tail and fled, quickly disappearing into the forest once more.

Once again, the chase resumed its progress, albeit easily, as the girl was creating quite an easy to follow path, with broken branches and footprints, along with the constant rustling noise of her pathing. Besides, there wasn't much more distance where she could run, as that direction would lead to a cliff, something that the girl found out all to quickly, as she was forced to stop. Turning around to run back into the depths of the forest, she was stopped by the sight of the four mauraders. One of them charged forward, bringing his sword down on the girl, with her bring up her translucent blade in response. One, two, three, four. The man repeatedly smashed down on the blade, with the fifth strike shattering it, a clear sound echoing like glass breaking, as translucent fragments fell to the ground before dissolving into nothing.

With a wince, the girl jumped back, holding her right arm with her left, the former unresponsive, a painful, numbing feeling forcing her to hold it close to her body. At the desperate situation, she couldn't hel but to take a step back. And again. And again. Until she nearly stumbled over the edge. Unable to help but to glance behind and below, greeted by the sight of unforgiving rocks with a rapid stream flowing through. However, a quickly look towards her front showed just as unforgiving of a cruel reality in the shape of humans.

Closing her eyes, she leaned backwards, tipping herself over, the rushing of the air quickly howling in her ears as she plummeted her way down.

Bonus: Anyone who looks at her would notice she is an extremely delicate person. While this may cause people to want to protect her, it may also attract unwanted attention from bandits looking for an easy prey.

She's a comfortable pillow.