Haha

𝘌𝘮𝘣𝘦𝘳 𝘵𝘰 𝘈𝘴𝘩𝘦𝘴 - 𝘈𝘳𝘤 𝘐: 𝘏𝘰𝘶𝘯𝘥 𝘢𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘎𝘢𝘵𝘦𝘴 𝘰𝘧 𝘏𝘦𝘭𝘭

^{Bantering At Gates of Goeta, There's Much Butter Things We Could Be Doing?!}

@Spin The Wheel@vietmyke@Abstract Proxy@Katakuri

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"Eh- uh- ah- oh- ee- ay, what?"

By all means, this group was quite a mixed bag. The fire-haired demon scanned his eyes across the chaotic group, looking first to the ones who approached the ogres and opening his mouth to speak.. but indecipherable nonsense escapes his maw. The small white-masked figure was already going on about stories of his heroism, the auteur as the eldest presenting human approached with confidence, and the madman? He honestly seemed to be the least of the Farfa's worries. But already was the thread weave that kept that cart ride so peaceful starting to fray. And then his mind would return to the moment, longing for it wander once again so he could be home.. home was so comfortable.

"The plan, is to get inside. Anyone who doesn't look like a human can walk in so long as we don't piss the ogres off. Just--"

The spoiled half-elf's words snapped one of those fraying threads, and you could visibly see it do so as the demon twitched as the Galahad's second question met the demon's ears. A plastic smile spread across his tanned features, squinted cheshire eyes aimed right over to him as he pointed a clawed fingertip towards the once knight and then in the direction of Lumen, Germaine, and the madman near the gate's entrance. A deep breath was drawn in through his nostrils, swelling up in his chest as if he were about to exhume a loud 'Fus ro dah!' but abstained from blowing up on the man with indecipherable infernal language. And instead released a calm and friendly sentence.

"You are quite eloquent with your words Ser Galahad, might you go and speak with the ogres -- try your hand?"

The cheshire eyes would remain, but ever so slowly the smile across his lips would melt into an indifferent stiff expression as the demon's gaze fell first to the youngest human of the group. Farfa burns a very cautious stare upon her before looking to the elf speaking to her, and then to the violet-skinned elf, none of which were helping the situation very much. Both hands floated up to cover his face and a loud sigh muffled by each palm grumbled through.

"And to think that there are members of Barb's family that were turned away by the Order.. only to send... /this/... "

Farfa's hands drip off his face along with streams of water as the rain develops from a light sprinkle into a more consistent shower. The everburning strands of hair atop his head sizzles and hissed as moisture set into the mane of hair atop his head, and his mascara bled down from his eyes to his cheeks. Then he would look to the moon elf and stated rather ambiguously, "Perhaps he will drown us. But I think it may be a little too early for that, they are said to enjoy a one-sided struggle before sending opposition to the grave."

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𝘛𝘏𝘐𝘚 𝘐𝘚 𝘑𝘜𝘚𝘛 𝘈 𝘉𝘜𝘍𝘍𝘌𝘙 𝘗𝘖𝘚𝘛, 𝘛𝘏𝘌 𝘉𝘌𝘌𝘍𝘠 𝘗𝘖𝘚𝘛 𝘞𝘐𝘓𝘓 𝘉𝘌 𝘚𝘜𝘕𝘋𝘈𝘠

𝘌𝘮𝘣𝘦𝘳 𝘵𝘰 𝘈𝘴𝘩𝘦𝘴 - 𝘈𝘳𝘤 𝘐: 𝘏𝘰𝘶𝘯𝘥 𝘢𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘎𝘢𝘵𝘦𝘴 𝘰𝘧 𝘏𝘦𝘭𝘭

Not claimed, feel free to hop aboard while we are still on post 1.

𝘌𝘮𝘣𝘦𝘳 𝘵𝘰 𝘈𝘴𝘩𝘦𝘴 - 𝘈𝘳𝘤 𝘐: 𝘏𝘰𝘶𝘯𝘥 𝘢𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘎𝘢𝘵𝘦𝘴 𝘰𝘧 𝘏𝘦𝘭𝘭

@Euphoria

Star is available, you are free to apply.

𝘌𝘮𝘣𝘦𝘳 𝘵𝘰 𝘈𝘴𝘩𝘦𝘴 - 𝘈𝘳𝘤 𝘐: 𝘏𝘰𝘶𝘯𝘥 𝘢𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘎𝘢𝘵𝘦𝘴 𝘰𝘧 𝘏𝘦𝘭𝘭

@Jeddaven
There's a ton of other ones available, and if you have any questions feel free to poke me on the forum or discord.

𝘌𝘮𝘣𝘦𝘳 𝘵𝘰 𝘈𝘴𝘩𝘦𝘴 - 𝘈𝘳𝘤 𝘐: 𝘏𝘰𝘶𝘯𝘥 𝘢𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘎𝘢𝘵𝘦𝘴 𝘰𝘧 𝘏𝘦𝘭𝘭

@Jeddaven

Magician was already claimed by another player on the interest check, sorry!

𝘌𝘮𝘣𝘦𝘳 𝘵𝘰 𝘈𝘴𝘩𝘦𝘴 - 𝘈𝘳𝘤 𝘐: 𝘏𝘰𝘶𝘯𝘥 𝘢𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘎𝘢𝘵𝘦𝘴 𝘰𝘧 𝘏𝘦𝘭𝘭

@Infinite Cosmos

There is room until all of the arcana are taken.

𝘌𝘮𝘣𝘦𝘳 𝘵𝘰 𝘈𝘴𝘩𝘦𝘴 - 𝘈𝘳𝘤 𝘐: 𝘏𝘰𝘶𝘯𝘥 𝘢𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘎𝘢𝘵𝘦𝘴 𝘰𝘧 𝘏𝘦𝘭𝘭

Stonehill District
West Gate
_{Evening - - Raining}

Cast: [@Everyone but Yankee], Rooster, Farfa, Brustle’s Men
Possible Checks: Culture, Commerce, Karma

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^{Click-click-click-lick-ick-ck...}

The wooden wheels of the carriage that brought you here trailed down the steep incline of the dirt-laid road and into the distance until ultimately it was out of sight. You weren't sure which of these individuals had traveled to Goeta for the same reason as you, but all hopped out of for cart upon its arrival. A cambion-looking fellow with fiery features and sun-kissed skin turned towards the group, loudly shouting and waving his arms to get their attention.

“Everyone! If you are here to speak with the moguls of Goeta, please follow me! I am Farfa, representative of the Comoita family. We will be making our way through Stonehill until we reach the Bridge on Crossroads! Stay close, don't talk to anyone, and don't buy anything! Thank you.”

The demon-blooded individual spoke in common, knowing that the majority of the likely wouldn't know gutterspeech or infernal. But his words were enthusiastic, and hopeful, even though there was nothing to base that on with these strangers. Farfa’s expression remained bright and warm with a cheery smile stretched from ear to ear. He marched to the door with the assumption that those who he spoken to would follow, not even bothering to glance over his shoulder for confirmation.

“Hold it.” A gruff voice growled out.

As the short sentence met Farfa’s ears, he came to a complete halt. For a moment the demon lingered, as if he was in a brief trance before shaking his head and averting his eyes towards the gate where a burly goblin sat upon a large stone with his legs crossed. Farfa’s eyes widened, looking quickly to the group of new arrivals before returning a softened expression back to that goblin. The demon beamed a toothy grin, sharpened fangs pressing over his lower lip as he greeted the unhappy looking half-squat with green skin.

“Rooster! Of course, you would be the first face I see. How have you faired in the three-no-four moons that I have been off rallying able-bodied men and women?” Farfa flutters his eyelashes.

“Shut ya’ stupid mouf. Where's my coin?” The goblin barked back, spitting brown-black phlegm onto the grass below.

“Eh.. Uh.. Well.. It's going to storm! Look at the grey clouds overhead, and the air is already brimming with energy. Let me buy you some mead in the Bleeding Hollow, we can speak of coin there!” Farfa’s charismatic tome tried to masque his nervousness, but anyone could see through that paper-thin facade.

“Who’s those folks, outsiders? Why they followin’ ya?” Rooster asks out brashly whilst peeling himself off the stone and stepping towards the tall grey-haired individual that absolutely reeked of human. “This’un is a human. Ya’ plan on selling him to Lady Niv?”

“N-ow, now.. They're not here as residents. They've come to work, to speak with some of the higher voices of Goeta, and then to leave.” Farfa instinctively slithered between Germaine and Rooster, for forming a very fickle barrier. But it was something.

Rooster’s eyes them danced from Germaine, to Galahad, lingering on the visibly militant half-blood for a while. But eventually, he would relent into a sigh, deflating and turning his back to the new arrivals and stepping towards the west gate. At the large wooden entrance, two towering grey-skinned ogres stood at each side. They were garbed in chain, and place, clearly meant to withstand combat and armed with a greataxe at each side.

Rooster nodded to each of them, and the reinforced doormen silently nodded back before pressing an plated gauntlet to the wooden surface. The gate opens and the goblin enters, firing the strangers a cautious look painted upon his face. The ogres then quickly slam the gate closed, their face beneath the plated helms staring straight ahead toward the group of hired help. Farfa sighed in relief the moment Rooster disappeared into the city, still though, his dramatic expressions would continue as he looked back towards the ensemble on the verge of tears.

And then the rain began, a slow yet consistent shower from the heavens and a rumbling levin brightly sparking through the dark clouds.

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Dante’s Run
Fito’s Ferry
_{Evening - - Raining}

Cast: @Yankee, Yrga, Comoita Men
Possible Checks: Commerce, Karma

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“Put it on the table!”

”She’s crazy! Get your hand away!”

”She took off his finger, run away!”

The small wooden shack that could hold no more than ten men empties in no time at all. With each heavy footfall of demon, orc, goblin, the dark water shook and ripples traveled outward beneath. The beeswax candles began to sputter as raindrops started to fall with the storm’s arrival, and the tall orcish woman smiled as fond memories came with it.

“Ah, I love the rain.” Yrga chirps out, tugging at the small raven skulls woven into her belt and bouncing on her toes.

Her eyes glance back towards the table where Barbatos sat, a freshly bloodied finger and mismatched piles of coin spread across the wooden surface. The orc’s smile remained, seeming to have only grown giddier having removed a lizardman’s finger from their hand. She spins on the tip of her boots, a strike of lightning illuminated the rather dimly lit watering hole for a moment. It was empty other than her, him, and the imp that worked the bar.

“Should be enough to bring back home, no? I'll even let you keep the finger.” Yrga mused as she slowly took a stride back to the small drinking table, finding a seat on the opposite side to him.

The small winged creature that cleaned the glass cups behind the countertop would sheepishly chime in before Barbatos could offer words back to the orc. ”Don’t forget your tab~.” But the moment his nasally tone muttered out, a hard orcish fist crashed down on the table. Yrga slowly turning her vision towards the tiny demon and branding him with a glare.

𝘌𝘮𝘣𝘦𝘳 𝘵𝘰 𝘈𝘴𝘩𝘦𝘴 - 𝘈𝘳𝘤 𝘐: 𝘏𝘰𝘶𝘯𝘥 𝘢𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘎𝘢𝘵𝘦𝘴 𝘰𝘧 𝘏𝘦𝘭𝘭

Karma dictates how others perceive you before you’ve even spoke to them.
High karma means you pass the vibe check, low karma means they’re immediately suspicious.

𝘌𝘮𝘣𝘦𝘳 𝘵𝘰 𝘈𝘴𝘩𝘦𝘴 - 𝘈𝘳𝘤 𝘐: 𝘏𝘰𝘶𝘯𝘥 𝘢𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘎𝘢𝘵𝘦𝘴 𝘰𝘧 𝘏𝘦𝘭𝘭

Ansel

Ansel, the Wraith

________________________________________ Anselmet Guernier ??? | Male | Human _______________________________________________ ❏ BIRTHPLACE: Royal Palace, Borisan Kingdom ❏ CASTE: Dangerous Spirit; King (formerly) ❏ AFFILIATIONS: Styx; Borisan Kingdom (formerly) ❏ GOALS: To destroy Hades and return control of the East to his longtime friend, Styx. _______________________________________________ TALENTS: ◆ Comedian: Not many would expect a scary, infamous spirit to be so funny but Ansel provides a uniquely cynical and sarcastic sense of humor. His dark jokes may not be suitable for children. ◆ Stealth: Being without a body makes for ample opportunities for sneaking. Untold years of haunting the mortal realm has allowed Ansel to be able to surprise even the most acute senses. ◆ Translator: Having existed for so long has made Ansel a master of nearly every language, both current and dead. ◆ A Warrior (in spirit): Though unable to make much use of these skills as a spirit he was once a powerful champion, capable with any weapon put in his hands. Perhaps he could be an excellent coach or teacher, if he felt so inclined. EQUIPMENT: ◆ Spectral clothes that are in fashion for the modern ghosts and ghouls. ◆ His sharp, often mean-spirited wit. ◆ It should be apparent by now that he doesn't actually have any equipment on him, as he is a spirit.

Appearance ▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔ Though he is permanently semitransparent it is usually quite easy to distinguish his features. Ansel may not actually be dead but he sure looks like he is with his deathly pale skin. His long black hair appears both grizzled and greasy. His eyes black and piercing, haunting to stare into for too long. His stature is that of a muscular, trained man of an average height. At a glance he may appear to be a dirty, middle-aged man but only when he doesn't mind being seen... Personality ▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔ In his mortal life he was a proud, self-righteous man capable of immense kindness as well as immense fury. Since his curse was awakened, however, Ansel has changed a number of times over. At first he tried to make the best of his new situation but when that failed his nature began to change. He became angry and spiteful, indignant over his fate and lashing out in any way he could to cope with his upcoming eternity. But as time dragged on even the emotional wounds of an immortal would heal. His rage turned to apathy, his spite to cynicism. He would go on to meet many people, see many lands, and he found that he simply did not care about hardly any of them. Though he has made friends over the centuries with similar immortal beings and spirits he only pays mind to mortals as a source of entertainment. He rarely kills anymore but will still frequently scare or annoy mortals purely for fun, as it remains one of the few reasons to continue existing for him. Of course he can mostly tolerate mortals when he isn't in the mood for a little haunting, but the question becomes whether they can tolerate his offensive humor and lack of conduct. What he lacks in sympathy he makes up for in comedy, though his intended audience is only himself. Arcana ▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔ Major: Death Ansel awakened his arcana as a grown man and was rewarded with the immediate, painful destruction of his mortal body. Ages have passed and he has had plenty of time to learn, practice, and play with his magic. He can move through objects, hover or fly at great speed, and adjust the transparency of his spirit to the point of invisibility. However his most potent and dangerous ability, and the one for which he has become known, is the ability to possess the body of a living victim. From within he can control them as if they were a body of his own, and can even glance through their memories, but he cannot manipulate the body in ways it is physically incapable of. Unable to replicate his former strength in any normal mortal, Ansel found it far easier to "fight" mortals by simply possessing them and forcing them to commit suicide. Only those of a higher caliber, of the strongest wills, can resist or repel Ansel. Minor: The Ace of Swords A potent, powerful artifact capable of striking at a soul directly. Typically eternal spirits like Ansel will never die but if they were to be struck by the sharp edge of this blade it would destroy them. Worse than death: it would remove them from existence entirely. Ansel originally collected this blade as a means to hide it from the rest of the world and ensure he could not be destroyed, but now he views it as his option to cease existing once he finally grows too tired of immortality. That being said: Ansel is not in direct possession of this blade and has not been for a very long time. Instead it is hidden, though he was the one who hid it himself so he knows where to find it (as long as nobody else managed to find it, that is).

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Combat: ••••••••
Though it is now ancient history, Ansel was once a powerful warrior-king. He had decades of experience in combat against foes both mighty and many before he lost his mortal body. Though unable to fight in a traditional way those skills still remain.
Culture: •••••••
Though generally apathetic and sometimes a menace, traveling the world over the course of many lifetimes is a good way to learn about the world and its people. But, much like his combat ability, there aren't many outlets for him to express his knowledge due to being a feared wraith.
Commerce: •
With no need to eat, sleep, or otherwise purchase goods or services there has been no incentive for Ansel to even memorize the price of bread, let alone care about anything else economic. He's so detached from commerce, as a concept, that he doesn't even need to steal since he doesn't need anything.
Magic: ••••••
His ability to manipulate his own spirit and any bodies he possesses make for some powerful magic in its own right, but the scope of his capabilities is limited to just that. He has had plenty of time to understand what he is capable of, and what he isn't capable of.
Survival: •
Much like how he has no need for commercial knowledge he has very little need for survival knowledge. He is at no risk to his life, if you could call it that, at any given time as it is. There is no threat the natural world can throw at Ansel, nor any boon it can give him, thus he cares not for the natural world.
Karma: •
While mostly apathetic in the modern age there were many years that Ansel spent terrorizing both the wicked and innocent. First out of anger, then out of boredom he would torment, terrify, and even kill his unsuspecting victims. The karmic justice he receives is not death but the lack thereof, to never feel the sweet embrace of his many lost loved ones in an afterlife too good for him. What good deeds he had accomplished in life have long been lost to time and only his sins he has made in his un-life remain.

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@j8cob

Good thing you are a ghost with that karma.
Love the concept, and I would like some PMs about his less upfront details.
Stats are good, NPC target #1 for scams when they get the chance to interact.
You can throw him on the boat dad.

Aelia Arrianus

Aelia Arrianus

________________________________________ Aelia Arrianus 76 | Male | Dark Elf(Elf) _______________________________________________ ❏ BIRTHPLACE: City of Evermoor, Isle of Alista ❏ CASTE: Noble ❏ AFFILIATIONS: House Arrianus ❏ GOALS: To claim her birthright as Archon of Alista and get revenge on her half-brother Lyklor _______________________________________________ TALENTS: ◆ Axesmanship ◆ Agile ◆ Sailor EQUIPMENT: ◆ Elvish Axe bearing the sigils of her parents' houses. ◆ Cloak ◆ Necklace that contains a picture of her family

Appearance ▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔ Standing at 6'1 and having a muscular build. Having white hair common to a dark elf. Despite her current appearance as a common woman and wearing clothes belonging to a commoner. Along with a common cloak, only how she carries herself, dignified and proud, shows her true upbringing. And her elvish axe that is finely decorated and bears the marks of his parents' houses. Personality ▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔ Despite her noble upbringing and she can act like a proud noble. Aelia can at times engage in commoner behavior like drinking people under the table or some friendly sparring. Still, she has her limits as she is not one to attack unprovoked or cause needless conflict. At times helping those that she finds on their travels and does not speak of her past to strangers. Only to those, she trusts, and she cares about family and is protective of those she cares about. Arcana ▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔ Major: The Lovers Aelia, as it is her magic, is useless without her other half. With her not knowing what she and her partner are really capable of when in sync with each other. This has not stopped Aelia from experimenting with what she can do without her partner. Which she is only capable of making small lights that she uses mainly to guide her path at night or in dark places. Minor: N/A

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Combat: •••••••• Culture: •••• Commerce: •••• Magic: ••••• Survival: •• Karma: •••••

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@Theyra

We love Drow, everything here looks good other than the stat allowance.
Once thats adjusted, we’re ready to go.

𝘌𝘮𝘣𝘦𝘳 𝘵𝘰 𝘈𝘴𝘩𝘦𝘴 - 𝘈𝘳𝘤 𝘐: 𝘏𝘰𝘶𝘯𝘥 𝘢𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘎𝘢𝘵𝘦𝘴 𝘰𝘧 𝘏𝘦𝘭𝘭

Umara

Umara Imaradi

________________________________________ Umara Imaradi 18 | Female | Human _______________________________________________ ❏ BIRTHPLACE: Umara hails from the infamously eerie Masquewood Swamp, found deep within the easternmost reaches of the Realm controlled by Styx. ❏ CASTE: Umara is a traveling alchemist, offering her services to the strange caravans that still travel the blighted lands. For a modest price, extremely fair price, of course. ❏ AFFILIATIONS: As a professional Alchemist with a capital A, Umara is a member in good standing of the Alchemist Society. With a mind to her filial duties, she also maintains sporadic contact with her parents by way of somewhat regularly mailed letters, carefully curated to ensure that everything appears to be going more than well for her. ❏ GOALS: Umara seemingly lives only to further her understanding of the alchemical and arcane arts. Any money that remains after paying for her own basic necessities and current debts, is inevitably spent in pursuit of increasing her knowledge in these two fields. _______________________________________________ TALENTS: ◆ Alchemy: Despite her youth, Umara is a talented alchemist, capable of combining reagents to produce substances both mundane and mystical in nature. ◆ Arcane Scholar: Magic is not a mere feeling. Magic is not simply exerting one's will upon the world. Magic is a science. Magic is another gateway that must be opened and another threshold that must be crossed in order to understand the nature of the universe. Convinced that this the truth, Umara views herself as an scholar, following in the faded, often hard to discover footsteps of arcane scholars of long gone ages. In a world filled with death and decay, precious few individuals would care to challenge Umara's claims of scholarship. ◆ Analytical Mind: Umara possess a sharp, analytical mind. She is uncommonly good at logically analyzing a situation, problem, or discarded tome packed full of forbidden and terrifying knowledge that will likely threaten not only her, but the entire party. EQUIPMENT: ◆ A hooded blue cloak, adorned with embroidered celestial bodies. ◆ A turquoise dress, suitable for travel, painted shifting shades of blue and green, and decorated with small trinkets. ◆ A simple leather backpack. ◆ An old, battered book, written in a elaborate cursive that is exceedingly difficult to read. ◆ A portable alchemist's kit consisting of two glass beakers, a light metal frame for holding a beaker over a flame, a glass stirring rod, as well as a small pestle and mortar. ◆ A pouch of common alchemical ingredients, including salt, iron powder, and purified water. A waterskin currently filled with clean water. ◆ A small bottle of black ink (no more than one ounce) and an elegant metal ink pen that clearly cost a sizable sum of money to purchase. ◆ A small, battered journal, full of hastily scribbled notes and formulas. ◆ Carefully secured in her traveling pack, Umara keeps three flasks of Alchemist's Fire. A useful substance for any burgeoning alchemist to create, Alchemist's Fire is a sticky, adhesive fluid that violently ignites when exposed to air and continues to burn until the flame is extinguished.

Appearance ▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔ Touched by the arcane, Umara's eyes dance with not just alertness, but burning flames that leave her eyes a forever shifting yellow-orange. Above and below her eyes, Umara paints geometric shapes, reminders of her discoveries and meaningful meditations on the nature of the Arcana. Enchanted by the ether that flows through her, Umara's hair is cast an ethereal hue of pale blue. Her skin is faded fawn, colored by the sun and time spent on the road. Middling in height, Umara has the lithe, if not athletic, then at least trim figure, of one who spends her life traveling from one settlement to another. The excess fat of too much pleasure, too much wine, and the softness associated with the hearth have had no time to leave their traces on the young woman. Unconvinced of the kindness of her fellow travelers, Umara takes care to hide unwelcome shapes brought on by a growing adulthood. She does not hide that she is a young woman, but she has learned it is best to cultivate a sense of mystery about her person and to keep her companions at arm's length. Personality ▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔ Frequently too curious for her own good, Umara is intensely and dangerously curious when it comes to all things related to magic. Possessing the do-it-yourself education of a practicing alchemist, Umara is surprisingly well-read for a waif lost to the the allure of travel. A quick learner, gifted with a knack of careful experimentation, Umara approaches all of life with the broad minded view of an alchemical researcher. A scientist of all that binds the universe together, as it were. The young alchemist is endlessly analytical and thoughtful when it comes to magic, happily spending hours reflecting on the nature of magic and attempting to reconcile it with her understanding of the physical world. For all her many intellectual gifts, Umara is still young. She is focused only when it comes to her professional responsibilities and personal studies. Outside of alchemy or magic, she is decidedly disinterested in most things and does her best to avoid expending any serious effort. Convincing the young pyromancer that it would be good to complete the necessary chores of the road or to acquire some practical training, perhaps in how to fight, appears thus far to be an exercise in futility. A pensive creature by nature, Umara's mind frequently wanders, and left to her own devices she can often be found daydreaming or scribbling alchemical recipes in her journal. Buried beneath a studious exterior, the young woman carefully guards an inner sense of worry. A gnawing, gasping fear that she has missed some important secret and that she is doomed, utterly and completely doomed. This worry can lend Umara with an unexpected edge of cruelty to her actions and her words. She is stubborn. She is brash. She is moody. She is still trying to figure out what it means to be a person, to be a woman, and to be herself. She wants to be independent and she chafes under rules, even when they make sense, especially when they exist to protect her. She tests the patience of those around her. However, in the silent hours of the night when she lays awake, full of guilt and regret over her most recent outburst, she knows better. There remains but one aspiration, one hope, that someone will tell her that everything will be alright and that this time, this time, she will truly be able to believe them. Arcana ▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔ Major: The World Possessing the Major Arcana known as the World, Umara is a Pyromancer, a mage specializing in fire-based magic. Fire is hers to command, conjure, and employ as she sees fit. From her hands appear hurtling bolts of fire, baleful fireballs that blossom into raging explosions, cruelly scorching rays, and imposing barriers of fire. Young and inexperienced, Umara finds that having material components at hand tied to the magic she evokes vastly increases her success when slinging spells. Minor: N/A

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Combat: 1/10
"What need hath the magician for the profane physical implements of those uninitiated in the great mysteries of life?" - Sudro Karavastar

A reader, not a fighter, Umara is tragically unprepared for any sort of combat. She is not strong, she is not fast, and she is no more resilient than any other young woman found within the Realm. She has not trained under great knights, she wields no magical weapon passed down for generations, and she is almost completely uninterested in physical pursuits. Having long since accepted the proclamations of far older and wizened wizards concerning physical violence, Umara desperately clings to the idea that when it comes to fighting, someone else will probably do it for her. If not out of honor bound duty or professional responsibility, then at least out of pity.

Culture: 6/10
"It is said that there are more tongues spoken by the races of the Realm than leaves in the Masquewood Swamp. I do not doubt this and the astute traveler must therefore strive to broaden their linguistic horizon. But what is language, if not culture molded into units of speech? I say then, to understand language, you must understand culture. Knowing this, perhaps the wise among you, will also agree that to understand culture, you must finally understand the history of the Realm." - Gavrin

Fond of reading and driven by her intellectual pursuits, Umara is not uninformed concerning the diverse languages, cultures, and history of the many peoples scattered across the Realm. Far from a bespectacled historian, constant travels since her earliest years have afforded Umara a wealth of experience from which to draw an understanding of the Realm.

Commerce: 2/10
"What is the value of gold? Why waste breath on acquiring mountains of coin? Who cares for paltry trinkets? Can you buy knowledge with these things? No? Ah, then why should these things concern you? Why should you covet them? And why should you die for them?" - Master Ilira

Steeped in esoteric ideas of reality, money is merely a means to Umara, a means to acquire more knowledge and base necessities unfortunately required for her continued survival. Umara takes no pleasure in collecting money. She finds no joy in counting out coins she receives for her work. And she certainly has no aspiration of dying with enough gold to fill a magnificent, priceless tomb. Certain that the pursuit of wealth is merely the quickest path to enslavement, while the pursuit of knowledge is the only way to to discover freedom, true freedom, Umara spends her money quickly and often foolishly, persuaded that her dreams demand little pragmatism. The workings of commerce, the flow of trade routes, and the value of goods across the Realm, similarly hold little interest to Umara.

Magic: 6/10
"This universe, our universe, is an awe-inspiring universe of magic. Waves and motions surround us, for there are no atoms. Here, in this place, you must discard all belief in barriers to understanding. You must put aside understanding itself. The universe cannot be seen. The universe cannot be heard. And it cannot be detected by fixed perceptions. Reality, all of existence, is the ultimate void. There is no preordained canvas upon which forms can be painted. I warn you, that here, in this place, you have only one awareness, only one way to discover the truth. You are a magi, a magician, gifted with a Major Arcana. Use it! Use your imagination! Here, you must learn what is to be human. You must be a creator of order, of beautiful shapes and systems, an organizer of chaos." - Ossul the Prophet

To consider Umara, is to consider magic. She eats magic. She drinks magic. She sleeps magic. Though of few years compared to some, the girl-woman has nourished the seed of knowledge granted to her, cultivating a great tree of knowledge concerning the arcane arts. Skilled in the magic ascribed to the Major Arcana known as the World, Umara possesses a growing academic understanding of magic. Where some see subconscious art and willpower, Umara sees diligent study and understanding. Dedicated completely to this path, Umara strives only to learn more and to fully master her Major Arcana.

Survival: 3/10
"Wizards? Pah! They know nothing about the world or how it works! They're weak, sniveling cowards who hide in their towers and wouldn't last a day in the wilderness." - Timmok Thrice-Hanged

Well acquainted with the many perils of long journeys across uninhabited and dangerous lands, Umara is keenly aware of the importance of being able to survive in the wilderness. However, beyond endeavoring and largely succeeding at not becoming an unduly burden to those she travels with, Umara is not particularly gifted when it comes to following tracks, hunting wild game, navigating frozen wastelands, identifying signs that direbears live nearby, predicting the weather, or avoiding quicksand and other natural hazards.

Karma: 5/10
"What do you despise? By this are you truly known." - Mialee the Just

Others view Umara with uncertainty. She keeps to herself or her close companions, seldom engaging with strangers beyond what politeness dictates. Yet, her appearance is peculiar and she is hard to forget. Still, the wisp of a girl seems to pose little danger and many a wanderer has concluded that she is simply another strange alchemist plying her trade. Only the ignorant and unnecessarily cruel suffer her true ire.

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@Abstract Proxy