Ellion

Spells in the Dark (18+ for Dark and suggestive themes)

_{talking with Celosia@Kitty}

The shadows of the forest had all but disappeared, despite it not being so far passed high noon. There was a wrongness about the forest, the danger flicking in and out of sight, like an itch you can feel but not find. Taran’s paced quickened, the urge to flee whatever was coming was nearly all powerful. But running...Running felt like a rabbit, like the mere effort to escape is what would draw the fox.

Small flecks of embers flashed in Taran’t peripheral vision as a fluttering ball of fire swam in front of his eyes, startling him and slowing his pace to a stop. It was obvious where the flame creature had come from. There could only be so many flame witches in a single forest.

The fire creature was so much more delicate and intricate than anything he could create. The wings were flames that were nearly translucent, yet filled with brilliant oranges and reds. The creature’s very center was filled with hot white flames that faded into deep purple.

The worry fell from Taran’s face as he reached out to the flamebeast, mesmerized by its beauty. One of his hands reached out to stroke it's delicate wing, causing a warm, fluttering to dance across his finger tips.

And just like that, the warmth vanished, returning to the hand of it’s master. Taking with it the distraction of the wrongness of the woods.

“I cannot promise you that any of your demands can and will be met,” Said Taran quickly, as thought explaining something obvious. “You can meet with Alexina, she will at least listen to what you require. Nobody will make you stay if you don’t like what she has to tell you,”

The anxiety that had been building in the pit of his stomach suddenly spread though his arms and legs. “I-It’s Taran. My name...We shouldn’t...We can’t. We can’t be here anymore,” There was a sudden shout of the village, the scream of a man. The town had filled with fog that was slowly seeping into the woods around them. Without much of a warning, nor a glance back, Taran took off, the fog ever nipping at his ankles.

Spells in the Dark (18+ for Dark and suggestive themes)

_{Brought to you by Ellion and @Aerandir}

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Hunters
The Diary Of Father Nab

...It has been debated heavily amongst scholars about the exact origins of hunters. Surely anyone can (and many do) pick up a sword and run into battle. There are thousand of corpses that prove this fact. But the question remains, what makes the difference between a true hunter and fool with a sword. Father Tav theorizes that it is a mixture of luck, skill and determination (in that order) . There are many would agree with him, indeed this writer assumes that most of humanity holds this view (there would be a great many less dead fools otherwise). However, Father Huggs has noticed an interesting pattern. That a great many notable hunters born outside of ‘hunter clans’ and all seem to have been born under the blood moon……

---

---

And now….Flint

“Finding a mate...Well good luck with--” The door of the tavern slammed open, groaning as its massive weight bounced off the wall, cutting off Emiliah’s sentence. The sound startled and drew the attention of the most of patrons. Even though a big shot slamming open the door was a fairly common occurrence. There was always someone who thought their message was worth the attention of everyone. Sometimes they were right in thinking so.

Following the door was a rather...Nondescript man. He was of average size and build and wore a red half cloak that showed the clear signs of ‘having seen some stuff’. The man carried his weapon as thought he was expecting a fight or had just come from one. Judging by his appearance it was the latter.

His face was covered in a collection of small cuts and bruises, common injuries from running through the thick woods that surrounded Seren’s Folly from every direction, save the few narrow roads in and out. The quake in his step alluded to having come a far distance. The closer he got, the more extensive his injuries became. Scarlett drops scatter across the floor from a deep gash on his forearm that held up his bow.

“Bobby-” His voice was hoarse, breathless. “We’ve got- got a slight problem ,” The door slammed behind the man, knocking whatever strength he had been holding. He collapsed to the floor. A monster of a wolf that had enter behind him crouched next to the fallen man, lapping at his injuries, trying to revive his human.

Bobby stopped his conversation as he maneuvered behind his bar to get a better look at who called him from the door. His eyes wide seeing the boy collapsing to the floor. “EY!” he bellowed. “What you all waiting for? Pick the lad up! Soph! We need some towels!” He limped around the bar as he noticed nobody was moving. “Well come on you Idjits! Quickly now. Up on the table. Don’t want him bleedin’ all over my floor!”

Spells in the Dark (18+ for Dark and suggestive themes)

_{Talking with Celosia@Kitty}

---

“Think what you will, but I assure you that this was not the coven's doing. That may have been the old way that things were done, but Mistress Alexina is changing that,” He said, watching the witch carefully, less he need to flee her wrath. “It is an unspeakable evil that your village was caught in the crossfire of the coven’s growing pains. But I can assure that every one of those foolish enough to have attacked your village will pay back every drop of blood they have spilled,”

In the distance, the ringing had stopped. Although the caravan of humans seemed to have been riled into action by the noise. Their numbers and weapons were apparent, even from this distance and spelled out only one thing. That it would be absolute maddeness to stay. ” It’s a tiny offering, I know. But you will have safety in the coven. You’ll have people that know the you you couldn’t be before and value you all the same,” He watched the witch pace to him and back to the depths of her cave.

“I know I am the last person you will want to hear this from, but there is nothing left for you here. Every soul that once resided in this village has been released by the flames that burned it to the ground. So I ask again, will you come back with me? Let us prove that we aren’t the monsters a few of our….members want us to be," Taran stood just outside the cave a moment longer.

“ The lone witch rarely survives the night, if I have not convinced you now, hopefully you will think on it, With a last look towards the ashy remains of the city, Taran turned and started heading away from the witch. The fox stood a moment longer, nosing at the dirt, before following his charge.

_{Interacting with Bobby @Aerandir and sorta with Andvari @Fetzen and Sanjin @ghastlyInc}

---

The rough texture of the man’s arm offered hand engulfed not only her hand, but a portion of her forearm as well. All the while, the tavern begin to fill with all sorts. The cheerful few who had not heard, witnessed or cared about Goldencrest started to water down the somber tone of the night thus far. Leaving the tavern with a very run mill sort of night. It wouldn’t be a night where the drinks flowed till everyone crashed under the tables and the oldest hunter told long winded (somewhat believable) stories about the ‘Golden Days of Hunter’. Nor did it seem that the horrors would be allowed to dictate the full mood much longer.

“My name is Emilah,” She said finally, watching the Andvari drink deeply from the mead Bobby knowingly poured. Clearly Bobby knew of this man if he was so bold as to offer the unasked for drink. He must have been one of the ‘good’ ones for Bobby to make such an effort with the drinks. Before the conversation could continue, a third voice joined the conversation.

Emiliah could hear the man long before she could see him. The much small hunter had most of his body blocked out by Andvari’s much larger form.
"You stink of the road mister! If you don’t bathe properly the prey will notice you. ....and then you'll die...I'm Sanjin, do you have work?"

Straining slightly to see the face of owner of the voice around the giants figure, Emiliah saw a man. He was much smaller than Andvari (although who wasn’t), with a mess of scarlet hair. His clothing was not so out of place at the tavern, save the mask strapped to his hip, proclaiming him to be one of the ‘pack’.

She wasn’t unfamiliar with the pack. If you stayed Seren’s Folly long enough you were bound to run into a least a few. They tended to travel together and, as her father put it were, ‘An odd wiley bunch, but good enough when the real enemy is breathing down yer back,’. She had only hunted with them a few times, but they always seemed well enough. If a bit enthusic at times.

"I'm surprised to see a member of The Pack so far North this late in the year, Said Emiliah, watching the boy bounce on his heels. It was clear by several of the hunter's around responses that very few had exposure to members of the pack.

Spells in the Dark (18+ for Dark and suggestive themes)

_{Creeping on Mat@TheDoctor and everyone else in Goldencrest (why are you there??) and talking with Celosia@Kitty}

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Earlier….

The howling of the wolves in an otherwise silent night roused many of the castle’s diurnal inhabitants and drew the eyes of the ones that worshiped the night.

Standing in the courtyard was Alexina’s pack of wolves. Huge beasts that that could rise above the height of some men, in the middle of the pack were five of their own. Even from his tower window, Taran could see the wolves snapping whenever one of the five move too quickly or in the wrong way. The largest of the wolves sent forth a summoning howl that pulled all out from the castle into the bitter chill of the night air.

The moon cast long shadows that were dispersed by the flickering of torches across the courtyard as more and more witches filled in the ranks. A hand caught Taran’s shoulder as he stepped into the courtyard. Glancing toward the owner of the hand, his eyes were met with the piercing gold eyes of Alexina, full of rage, hurt and sorrow. Without speaking Taran reached out a hand to comfort her, to try to take away some of the burden she refused to share. Whatever was coming and whatever had happened...it cost Alexina deeply.

“Alexina,” he whispered after a few seconds, he kept his words soft and slow, so’s not to add to the woman’s stress. “What is it? What has happened?”

He felt her hand tighten on his shoulder and for a moment he thought that she wasn’t going to tell him. “Some...something that shouldn’t have,” She took a deep breath. “There was an incident in a village and some of our witches did something inexcusable. Something-But never mind that, I need you to do something for me. When my wolves were returning they caught the scent of an unfamiliar witch. It was all over the village as though she inhabited there but gone when the wolves swept through. She cannot be left alone. This incident will bring every hunter within a league sniffing around the forest she’ll be hiding in. Find her...offer her sanctuary, ” Alexina turned and took a few steps into the courtyard. “ It is our fault that she lost hers..”

Taran stood a moment longer as Alexina started to address the crowd before leaving. It wasn’t the first time Alexina sent him out to recruit from under the noses of hunters. He blended in more than his brothers and sisters of the coven. Being male automatically made him overlookable, there were so few male witches that to assume he was one was far fetched. He also didn’t boast his statues like some other warlocks who took pride in who they were. No...unless he started shooting fireballs, no one had any reason to suspect he was what he was.

As he left the castle a tiny shadow emerged from the woods. A fox with far too clever eyes to be a normal animal approached. One of Alexina’s. “Alexina...I don’t need a chaperone,” Taran muttered under his breath. The fox yawned in response, sneezed and then followed him anyway.

----------------------------------------------------

Now

His travels brought him to and around the town more times than he would have liked. He stood on the edge of the clearing as the hunters lit the fire that burned the town to ash. He was exhausted and longed to return back, but every time his mind wandered to that thought, the fox seemed to catch a scent and take off into the bushes.

As the sky began to darken, the pair walked past the entrance of a cave and the fox gave a small noise before leading up to its’ entrance. Inside was a red headed women, looking a few years older than himself but with witches looks meant nothing. She could be a hundred years old for all her looks were worth.

“Excuse me,” he said softly, so as not to frighten her. “You’re the witch from Goldencrest?” He said softly, casting a small spark of fire in his palm to show her that he meant no harm. “Mistress Alexina would like to offer her coven as home to you, to offer you sanctuary in this time of great tragedy,”

Even from this distance, the air smelt of smoke and faintly of cooked meat.

“No no no…” Screamed a voice from the town. The sight showed that the once deserted area now held more than a few guests “Who the hell did this?”

“You should join us,” He said finally, just as the bell from the church started to ring. The little fox jumped onto Tarans shoulders, looking at the redheaded.

Bong!
Bong!
Bong!

Spells in the Dark (18+ for Dark and suggestive themes)

_{Interacting with Bobby @Aerandir and sorta with Andvari @Fetzen}

---

Seren’s Folly was just as it had always been. When Emiliah was still in her early years of hunting she always felt that it would be somewhat different every time she returned from a hunt. Every time she was disappointed. It didn’t matter how much evil was in the world, life would always move on.

But seeing those things never got easier. To see how fragile humans had allowed themselves to become. To see how useless parents were at protecting their young. It was the reason she fought, because most people wouldn’t or couldn’t.

After returning from Goldencrest she went straight home to scrub herself of every evil thing she’d come in contacts with, a habit that had formed after her father had gotten too sick to hunt anymore, before heading to The Witches Paradise. But no amount of scrubbing could make her feel clean on this night. Her hair was still wet when she left her house again. Lines of water droplets soaked her tunic. But it was either leave now or starve. Buying and keeping food just never seemed to end well in a house so rarely inhabited.

It was still early enough in the year that the warm summer days gave way to brisk spring nights. The warmth of the tavern was welcome, if the mood itself was far more somber than usual. The familiar smells of food, beer, a hard day's labor and faint scents of lavender calmed her nerves at once. It was the smell of the Witches Paradise. The smell of victory and assurance that you lived to fight another day. Although there was no victory today, there was the promise of one tomorrow.

On the far side of the bar were two of the hunters who had ventured with her to Goldencrest. They were talking about the possibilities of the attack having come from demons. A topic that had been throwing around a lot while still in Goldencrest. Alongside witches and worse. Emiliah ignored them, not wanting the sight of the slaughter to haunt her anymore than it already had. Besides, if it was demons, well...with the hunters current numbers and ferocity of the attack...it was best to hope that it wasn’t demons.

“Bobby,” she said, lacking her usual finesse. “ Mug and some food? If Sophie made any more of that soup from yesterday...it would be welcomed,” She waited a few moments before a bouncing bar maid flitted in and out of her line of sight. “ I see that Sapphire is back. It’ll be good that you have some help,”

With her meal being handled, she settled back on the stool, her eyes drifting over the other patrons. The nearest of which was a giant of a man. Although he occupied a single stool, his height made it seem like he took up much more space. That trait alone made him just unique enough that there was a good chance he was new. Even if he was a terrible hunter, his height alone would have made him known.

Social niceties were never her strongest suit and she was too far past exhausted to ‘play nice’ but if there was something that her father always push, it was taking every opportunity to meet a new hunter. People tended to watch the backs of acquaintances better than strangers. “Hello...you’ve probably never heard this before...but you are very tall,” Social niceties….not ….good.

Spells in the Dark (18+ for Dark and suggestive themes)

OOC GM Post

'Sup all my fine friends. We are now live!

So, this world is very open for all of your needs and self serving side quests!
BUT

We left you two reallllly nice playgrounds to play in....
One is the pissed off witches meeting (one dead already)
and the other is a tavern filled with shell shocked hunters.

SO go! Run! Have fun~

Spells in the Dark (18+ for Dark and suggestive themes)

_{Brought to you by Ellion and @Aerandir}

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Alexina stood in front of the Coven in the courtyard, on either side of her, sat her pack of twelve wolves that stared silently at the five witches that were singled out of all the witches in her castle. She had called every last one out to witness this. Her gold eyes seemed to burn as she glared at five witches, of which, Three of them nursing wounds on their arms. Marks from the pack of wolves that literally dragged them back to the castle when they did not listen to her.

Her fingers clenching as she tried to keep her anger in check. Three years, THREE YEARS they did not have an an issue, Now a town way wasted, painted red with the blood of all it’s previous owners who hung upside down stripped and mutilated. A church defiled, with it’s priest sacrificed on his own alter to his god as another slap to the face of those who believed in such a being.

Horrors and deeds brought out of hell itself. Worst of all. Innocent children had been killed. Sacrificed, for an evil ritual to extend the life of those for a too brief of time in compared to the life taken. A price for blood, must be settled.

“I have called you all out her tonight because these witches...and warlock… have put our home in danger! They left our home, and went to the small mountain village of Goldencrest and Massacred the people there. Defiled their church, and made mockery of the dead. Even slaughtering the children for a few more years to live! Their actions will have surely been found out by now. The horrors the hunters will see will spread and find the ears of more hunters! Rumors of our coven will spread and bloodthirsty murderers who care not that we want to live in peace will come searching our woods once again to destroy us. Calling for blood! ”

She looked to the three who once were old and haggard, now once again in their twenties. “ You all know I do not like the hunters. I have killed hundreds in my lifetime! I will continue to do so to protect our home! But to kill children who are innocent, Who have done us no wrong! Is always unforgivable!”

“The price of Blood...must be paid in blood.” She said suddenly very coldly.

“Is that right oh Queen of the Forest ? Going to sully your own hands for once? Going to take it yourself?” Hissed one of the witches stepping forward. “ Is this the leadership now? Killing your own for a few squealing mongrel whelps? ” Pressing one of her boney finger deep into the flesh of Alexina’s chest. The few whispers that scattered the room before stopped as the seconds slipped by, each one more tense than the last. A smirk flashed across the witches’ mouth as nothing happened. “I thought as much. Little girl, you’ve disappointed us all once again, Medusa would have had my neck for even daring to look upon her,”

Alexina suddenly grabbed the witch by the throat, her nails digging into her jugular. As her eyes grew narrow. With an unnatural growl that escaped her throat she lifted the witch off her feet. She knew she had to kill the woman, it fell within the category of necessary violence.

She pulled her close to her she asked with venom in her tone. “Like… This?” Giving the witch only a moment more in this life as her nails suddenly became sharper and tore into the skin. She then yanked the witch to the ground but held onto the Jugular. As the weight of the witches body ripped it out as she was thrown to the ground. She didn’t look back at the woman but lifted the warm bloody Jugular up and after a moment she raised her hand, showing the blood that was on it. “I kill when it is necessary. I keep my promises to the coven… Has there been a time I did not look after you? I protect the forest, I make sure those hunters do not find us and come for our heads. Is it too much for you not to listen to my words to NOT attack them unprovoked??” She asked pointedly to the witches in front of her tossing the bloody jugular to the side like it was trash.

---

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Meanwhile....

Remnants of a thick fog still hung on the outermost houses as the sun brought light to the horrors of night. A small group of hunters stood in what was once the center of Goldencrest Village. A nearby mountain town, close enough to Seren’s Folly that a handful of travelers reported hearing the incident less than a mile away from the hunter’s village. Yet so remote that it took most of the night to traverse the steep and winding path up the mountain.

Whatever had come was long gone, leaving no clear sign as to who--or what, did this. Sure, there were many theories tossed out, but no evidence that one was more true than the other. The villagers weren’t much help either. All dead. The survivors, if any, fled during the night. Emiliah's heart ached for the men, women...children, whose bodies now littered the streets. While more were hung upside down, bled dry like a stock pig.

The worst was the church. The bodies of the young were scattered across the floor. Looks of fear still etched in their small faces as they fled to this holy house for protection. The Font of Holy water was filled to the brim with their blood. At the very center of it all, the priest, striped bare and given a crown of the thorns as he was mounted upon a cross. His entrails draped across his hips offering a mock of modesty.

There wasn’t much to be done now, except leave the crows to their feasts and cleanse the land.

After the fires had been lit, it took what felt like mere seconds for the hundred year old town to be returned to nothing. Fire created the world and fire would cleanse it from the evil that tried to take root here. Maybe, in time, life would return to this area. Once the blood faded from the streets, once the bones crumbled to dust. Once the hunters who helped the priest down forgot how warm his body was when they found him.

Trusting the flames to take care of themselves, the hunters left the rocky village. It would be well into the night by the time they returned to Seren’s Folly.

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------

It wasn’t till it dark once again when the hunters Bobby sent out to help the village came back into town. Many of them went straight home...wanting to get away from the things they saw by being with their loved ones...to hold them close and remind them how much they loved them.

Most of the others however, went to the tavern. Because they had no family… or they wanted to drink till the burned images of the horrors in Goldencrest hopefully washed away and made to be remembered as a bad dream. The looks on all their faces spoke a thousand words… yet at the same time worried those who saw them. Wondering what they could have seen.

Spells in the Dark (18+ for Dark and suggestive themes)

Emiliah Haze

Appearance:

Hider

Age: 23

Color:bc8dbf

Appearance: Emiliah has the typical look of a Haze, warm brown hair and grey eyes. Standing at nearly 5'6", she tending to blend with the crowd. Years of training kept her well toned. Lacking the pure brute strength of some of her male colleagues, she tends to favor lighter, leather armor. Banking on dodging rather than taking oncoming attack. In the few moments when she isn't actively hunting, she tends to favor loose tunics and leggings.

Personality:
Emiliah, like every Haze that came before, is intense when it come to hunting. She doesn't care who someone is, or where they came from, as long as they don't go silently into the night. She has zero tolerance for people who disgrace the title of hunter in anyway. Emiliah tends to be very direct and to the point with everyone. She does have a sense of humor, but isn't one to 'relax'...ever.

History:

The Haze's are one of the oldest families of hunters. Known for their effectiveness, brutality, and black and white view of good and bad. They were also known to have more than a few heads to spare, the males being particularly fertile and loyal to the 'family'. Every member spent their childhood training to be a hunter, whether they chose to pursue it after their 16th birthday was up to them. But, over the dead body of her father, would any Haze face the darkness of the world completely unprepared.

Emiliah is the youngest of seven and the only daughter. She was also the only one of her siblings to follow in the foot steps of her father. While female hunters have never been exactly common, the Haze's have more than a few to their name. That, along with several instances that proved she didn't have a domestic bone in her body, allowed her out in the field.

For the early years, it was a lot of practice and little action. Observing and learning, rather than being in the thick of it. Eventually it came to the point where she would be fight with her father or fight without his knowledge. For a few years, they made duo that might have challenged the warrior of legion. But they were only human and humans fall. One poorly planned attack and her father nearly lost his life. He was lucky to be able to walk, but he would never be able to fight again.

Signature Weapon: Net and spear.

Things they look for in a partner: Someone hardworking and caring, like her father. They do not have to be a hunter in order to strike her fancy, but they do have to have passion and fire with what ever they are doing.

Rank: Disciple

Family:
Mother: Elenora Haze: wife/mother.
Father: Edgar Haze: Father/ Former Hunter.
Siblings: An extended amount.

Taran Fisherson

Name: Taran Fisherson

Appearance:

Hider

Taran still holds an image of youth, hardly looking a day over 18. He is slightly taller than most of the witches of the coven. His lanky figure has started to fill out from the laborious tasks that often fall to him. He is often seen wearing layers of clothing, paying little heed for the season. His hair is dark brown and his eyes are hazel.


Age: Between 17-19, it is a little unclear. He has the sneaking suspicion that he might not be aging properly.

Personality: Three years ago, when Taran stumbled upon the coven, he was an exceptionally shy, non-violent and naive boy, who hated and feared himself above all things. His time among the witches brought about some self acceptance, although he always carries an aura of guilt. Despite Medusa's best efforts, Taran remains mostly a nonviolent, non-confrontational person, who will only fight back as a last resort. There are still traces of the naivety and side effects of his sheltered upbringing he had not so long ago. The most unfortunate of which lays in his inability to lie and the terrible curse of being unable to recognize bad intent. He often misses some of the worlds more intricate social cues and interactions.

History:

Hidden in the valley between two unremarkable mountains there is village. Small enough that noone every really bothered giving it a name. Filled with unremarkable people who chose to hide themselves away from the rest of the world. Following a long forgotten religion that valued humility, unity, hard work, kindness and truthfulness above all else. To the point that children were forcefully taught these traits and adult were banished for not following them.

Taran was found at the edge of the village while still young enough to require the care of a wet nurse yet almost to old to be allowed in. He was given to the village 'carers'. A husband and wife who, for whatever reason, were unable to have children of their own. It fell to them to raise the children who lost their parents for one reason or another (although Taran was the only one whose birth family was a true mystery). He, along with the three girls that were place along side him, were raised in the way of the people.

It was clear from a young age that he was peculiar. It started off with little things here and there. Small fires springing up out of nowhere. Taran never getting injured, even after grabbing a hot coal from the fire place. Instead of improving with age, it seemed to spiral more and more out of control

And in a place where sameness is valued, differences are more than dangerous. Taran would have rather died than leave his village, but eventually his parents decided it was no longer safe for him to stay. They would be lying to themselves, the greatest sin of all, to pretend any longer that they were able to cope with his strangeness.

He was sent away just shy of 17, with zero knowledge of the world beyond the peaks of the mountains. The only guide given, was to follow the trail made by all the banished who came before him. He was nearly dead by the time he stumbled upon Alexina in the forest, who recognized him for what he was. She save him by brining him to the Coven.

For a year he trained under Medusa while she made every effort to break him of his naive and non-violent ways. But then...Medusa was gone and he was left in the chaos that followed.

As Alexina rose from the wreckage, he alined himself with her.


Special Power: Taran is a fire bug. He has the potential to be a great one, but doesn't trust his powers enough. He is mostly fire proof and can create huge vortexes of flames.

Rank: Acolyte

Things they look for in a partner: He doesn't really see himself as someone worthy of love, but would do anything to make someone else feel better.

Pets/Familiars:

None.

Angharad Seher

Angharad Seher

Appearance:

Hider

Age: 27

Personality:
Angharad has always been very free about life. She always chooses to do as she pleases, when she pleases, if only to stick it to fate a little bit more. However, when she is going after something, a rare creature to combine, a love interest, an object, she is always very intense about it and is rarely derailed until she has reached her goal. However, once she’s had her fun, she is more than willing to jump to the next thing (and, this is also the reason for people reporting strange and unusual animals in her wake)

History:
Angharad is the soon to be last, and thus the leader of the Seher Clan. A once large and powerful clan of Seer specialized witches. Known far and wide for their love of making the future a little fuzzier than it had to be for prospective heroes. They were one of the only clans to activity work with hunters as most hunters just saw them as a group with the gift of ‘helpful God-sight’.

The price of future sight comes with a cost. While the training takes years and years, the gift comes to a seer in a single night. The price of it being forced to look into the future and see the day that they would die. Knowing that nothing they did would ever change that fate. It was sad when a witch would see a short life in front of her, but it was the way of the clan.

Grethu Seher, Angharad’s great, great, great grandmother, lead the clan for nearly 300 years, before transferring leadership to her youngest granddaughter during a time of great suffering in the clan. While the clan stood strong for nearly 500 years, over the last fifty years, every new seer saw her death occurring at a young age, some only days from their initiation. Most of them were suicides, brought on by knowing they had only a short life in front of them. Angharad, being the only one whose fate was unknown, was the only choice to lead so that her Grandmother could focus on trying to fix the seer’s curse.

Angharad had grown up knowing that she’d never take the gift, even if fate was set in stone, she’d rather take it as a surprise then face it head on. Although she did go through the training, her passion lay in creating of something new. Her wonderful, horrific animal hybrids, forced together by darkest magic.

Ang lays in waiting for her grandmother's passing, said to be brought upon her by one Flint Digard.

Special Power:
A chimera creator: The art of taking two creatures, who were never meant to be together, and creating a new breed of animal out of it. Usually, created by putting two animals together, thus, giving the animal a conscious per head. If an animals has only one, then the creator chooses what lives and what dies. Chimera's can also exist if two chimera's breed, thus eliminating the problem of conscious, as only one soul will inhabit it.

Basically a F-you to fate.

Things they look for in a partner: They have to be interesting.

Rank:Master
Pets/Familiars: So many….

Spells in the Dark (18+ for Dark and suggestive themes)

~Master List of Characters~

Witches

Witches

Alexina (Coven Leader) ~ Aerandir
Alice ~ Aerandir
Pandor ~ Bright_Ops
Rebecca ~blackdragon
Phagora ~blackdragon
Saen ~blackdragon
Celosia ~Kitty
Cassilda ~Penny
Hellena ~PokimKyOshi
Sanjin Zoric ~Ghastly
Ryleth ~Legion02
Angharad ~ Ellion
Taran~ Ellion
Usoa ~Ghastly
Teresia ~Cryptek12

Hunters

Hunters

Fenros Digard ~ Aerandir
Flint Digard ~ Aerandir
Draco Russ ~Bright_Ops
Bartolomeo ~Bright_Ops
Kalisel ~blackdragon
Rowyn ~Kitty
Matrim~ TheDoctor
Aromull~ TheDoctor
Sarah~ Legion02
Lyra ~ hotsyrup
Andvari ~ Fetzen
John ~Celsius
Emiliah ~ Ellion
Sanjin ~Ghastly
Sheffield ~Cryptek12

Other

Tera ~Whoami

Spells in the Dark (18+ for Dark and suggestive themes)

So excited!