Ky watched as Ariel shifted through magic with the ease that one might change their hat or select a record in a jukebox, hanging on every word of her curious dilemma. His understanding of the circumstances that led her here was limited, though he cunningly masked the gaps in his knowledge with the occasional thoughtful nod and an accompanying “I see.” Or, “Ah.” Never both at once. That would be too obvious. What wasn’t obvious to him, at least at first, was the significance of having freely offered his magic to Ariel. Her gratitude brought a flush to his cheeks and an effervescent flutter in his chest. Try as he might to hide it, there was nothing to be done to stop the boyishly coy smile that widened across his face. Something was swelling within him. In time he would come to know this feeling as pride; the satisfaction of knowing you were a part of something bigger than yourself. The lost piece that completes the puzzle. No longer stuck between the cushions, unable to fit in anywhere else.
As he was, Ky didn’t fully comprehend why Ariel’s acknowledgment had stirred him so. It wasn’t even entirely directed at him or particularly overflowing with gratitude given the girl’s monotonous manner of speech when reverting to her base, white, form. Yet it was significant enough that when Jenna suggested to her that she should join the guild and seek out the other Mages who could provide the missing fragments of her psyche, Ky instinctively stepped forward beside the guildmaster to voice his approval. “The boss is right! You’ll meet so many mages if you stay here! I’ll introduce you. You and Tangelo.” Ky spotted D’angelo’s theatrics from the corner of his eye. The more he came to know this eccentric cloud mage, the more apt his initial comparison to a comic book character seemed to become. Everything he did was so animated and bold, with a dramatic flair that was downright Shakespearean (whoever that is). A sly thought had crossed Ky’s mind that a certain, uptight, lightning twerp would absolutely cringe at having to spend more than five minutes around him. Already he plotted to orchestrate Adelyn and D’angelo’s fated meeting in such a manner that she could not easily escape his wiles. The cogs of mischief were turning, and he somehow suspected that D’angelo would similarly relish in their machinations.
Ariel’s wolf transformation, while fascinating, had taken a backseat to the sudden shift of the crowd. Ky turned to spot the white hair of Akemi as she made her way through the hall - the crowd parting around her and her mysterious concoction as the bow of a ship parts the sea. Much like D’angelo, Ky’s stomach was not so easily turned by all manner of gross and disgusting abominations - and Akemi’s unique brand of culinary disasters were ever a favourite of his. Not for eating, of course. His sense of self preservation wasn’t that poor. Ky spotted the job flier in her hands and waved her down. Assuming she had taken up the opportunity to join their gathering, Ky peered over the top of the piece of paper to try and catch a glimpse at whatever assignment Akemi was considering. “Show me, Akemi! I wanna see. An escort? Aw, I can do that! Come on boss, can I go? Please?” He had to crane his neck to meet Jenna’s gaze, his own fiercely determined with the prospect of something perhaps a bit more exciting than his usual assignments.
Kiba watched the confrontation unfold between Mark and Seargent Munroe with his same, unbothered expression. This was not the first time he had been chided by a member of the garrison or a guard; nor was it the first time he had worked with Munroe. The Sergeant, assumedly preoccupied by his myriad duties, had never once addressed Kiba by name despite him having offered it at their initial meeting and the handful of reunions since - he had just never presumed that a minor detail like his name was that important. As far as working with Rising Starborn mages went, Kiba embodied a lot of desirable traits. He took orders well, never spoke back and completed the task as efficiently as possible. Of course, the guards seldom admitted to anything that would resemble praise where the immigrant mages were concerned. ‘The silent one’ rang particularly hollow for him as it was fairly accurate and not one of the more creative, more racially charged, insults they had devised for him. Nonetheless, he paid them no mind. He had learnt young that in the toolkit one could use to break a person’s spirit, name calling was a rather dull blade.
The mission seemed to be falling apart when neither man gave way to the other. Despite his own feelings, Kiba could see where Mark was coming from. In his own country, Kiba had watched men’s throats be slit for lesser perceived slights against one’s character. It wasn’t that he didn’t understand the significance of honour and decorum, but rather that he had always thought they were the purview of the wealthy and powerful. For Mark to so vehemently defend not just his own, but Kiba and Adelyn’s honour, seemed quite preposterous. Kiba was no noble - he was no one. He spared a thought for Adelyn. The young girl held herself with a modicum of respect and dignity after all. If he had been her sworn fang, duty would require that Kiba demand satisfaction on her behalf for the Sergeant's careless words.
Yet he was not sworn to Adelyn. He was sworn to Jenna. In a sense, anyway. And Jenna had allowed this job to reach them, so complete it they must. If Adelyn had not stepped up to ease the tension herself, then the task of bringing the focus back to the mission would have fallen to him. He didn’t wish to insult Adelyn by implying that she wasn’t capable of speaking on such matters without his input - so he remained quiet. That is, until the Sergeant turned to him in anticipation of a name. “Ki…ba” He stuttered out, though he held no expectation that it would stick this time.
The walk through town was remarkably quiet; Adelyn’s prattling notwithstanding. With much of the town celebrating at the Rising Starborn guildhall, the streets of Rembrandt were eerily still as the trio of mages set off on their mission. The odd shopkeep, housewife or guard would spare a glance in their direction as they crossed paths, returning to their mundane duties before Kiba could offer them with his usual greeting - an aloof, blank expression with a short nod of the head. With each passing left unacknowledged, the swordsman sighed with relief. The need for basic social etiquette was often exhaustive and proved more anxiety inducing than even the most grueling of battles. His thoughts wandered back to the task at hand, tuning in to the tail end of Adeyn and Mark’s rather one sided conversation regarding their mission.
Mark had briefed the pair on their hunt as they walked through the town, and Kiba didn’t feel a particular need to seek any further details. Find the beast and defeat it. It was as cut and dry as any job could get - a simpleness he appreciated. Though Mark had raised the issue of Adelyn’s safety, which was a contingency that couldn’t be ignored. Despite her protests, Kiba had given Mark a silent acknowledgement that he would look out for her. Mark was an accomplished mage in his own right, so his need for Kiba and Adelyn’s support would likely be minimal. It wouldn’t detract from the mission if Kiba were to focus his efforts on protecting Adelyn from any ire she may draw from their prey. Though he felt bad thinking it, he couldn’t help cracking a slight grin at the young girl's remarkable talent for drawing attention to herself. He briefly mused on the notion that the giant wolfbeast may outright submit to her verbal lashings as he had seen others.
“Heh.” He chuckled to himself, eyes darting to the two in case they overheard him and looked to inquire on what, pray tell, was so funny? Clearing his throat for words that would never come, Kiba picked up his pace to walk alongside the others. It would likely serve his best interests to pay attention to what was being said about the task. He nodded at Adelyn’s suggestion of first meeting with the client for more information before departing. The flier described a beast that was somewhat out of the ordinary, so it would be best to err on the side of caution. The flier had listed the rendezvous point as a few paces from the southernmost road leading out of town. The town’s outskirts came into view after a few more minutes of walking. The job flier proved ample reason for the guards to allow passage out of town, where the trio could arrive at their destination and await further instruction from the client.
The self-proclaimed eccentric, D’angelo, had Ky in stitches. His muffled giggles turned to hearty chuckles the more he watched this stranger comically engage with his cloud companion, Nimbus. Ky clutched his stomach, an ear to ear grin beaming up at D’angelo. There was an odd familiarity to the conversation; as though he was talking to a peer of his own age rather than a full grown adult. The older man was childish in his whimsy, and it became all too easy for Ky to lose his composure around him. Ky felt his face flush a light tinge of vermillion, averting his gaze down to the floor with the sudden self-consciousness of his childish joy. First with Ariel and now D’Angelo. Ky, still a boy, had not yet learned to be at ease with his emotions. Caught between the marvel of newfound friendships and the embarrassment of imaginary eyes piercing him with their scrutiny. What would they see? A foolish boy losing his wits over a few slapstick gags? Or a child enjoying himself in the company of others? Ky couldn’t be certain, but the very notion that the former opinion might win out was enough to silence his laughter and somber his mood. He didn’t want to be seen as childish.
Fortunately, Ariel changed the subject before Ky’s silence became noted. The young man wasn’t quite sure what to make of her strange request. Instinct warned him against humoring it; that trademark Lien standoffishness that was about the only thing his father felt obliged to impart on him. Yet seeing D’Angelo feel comfortable enough to share some of his own magic eased his wariness. And once he saw the metamorphosis the young lady underwent, his eyes glistened with awe. He rushed forward in front of Ariel, staring up at her with hands clenched tightly at his chest. “Woah! That was amazing! You can just change colour like that? I wish I could do that! Here, do mine next! Please!” He bounced on the balls of his feet, rubbing his palms together to gather up a faint heartbeat of magic within them. The air warped around his hands as the geokinetic forces pressed against them. Some loose grains of sand and a few small rock chips lifted off the ground in response to his geomantic influence. He wasn’t quite sure if it was enough for her to absorb, but he didn’t think Ariel would appreciate having a rock flung at her head, so it would have to do.
Once she chose to accept the offering of magic, Ky would bring his attention back to D’Angelo and confidently pound his fists together. “Yup! I’m a Rising Starborn mage!” The pride was evident in his announcement. He was a stranger in a strange land, and the Guild had offered him a place he could belong. “You really need to see some of the stuff these guys can do! They’re all a bit strange, but their magic is so cool!” He began listing off a few of his guildmates and the limited knowledge he had on their abilities. In truth, he had not really seen a great deal. Yet his young, imaginative mind, could fill in the blanks with the ease of a poet reciting verses. He spoke of the bubbly water mage whose optimism washed over you like a wave of relief, the cool as ice swordsman who was silent as mist, the temperamental lightning mage with a tongue that struck more intensely than any bolt she could conjure. He would have kept listing them off, if not for his attention being drawn to his fellow guildmates congregating at the jobs board.
“Oh! Oh! You guys should speak to Miss Jenna! You can see all of the strong mages at work if you take on a job with them.” The idea seemed more exciting to Ky than anyone else. For weeks now he had been stuck on mundane tasks; ones that aided the community through trivial, domestic services. He was green with envy at some of the older, more competent mages, like Nolan or Mark whose escapades of their own various, thrilling, jobs only served to fuel his frustration at being sidelined with tasks that he felt were beneath him. “I’ll introduce you to her.” His eyes scanned the stage until they found Jenna, waiting for hers to meet his before signaling her attention with a quick wave. He would introduce these strangers to the master, and demand that he be allowed to accompany one of the harder jobs on display. Afterall, he was just as much a mage of Rising Starborn as the others; he ought to have the chance to bare his fangs and prove his worth.
The plan was for a swift exodus to a more serene environment. If Adelyn allowed, Kiba may even have offered to show her some of his breathing exercises he used to warm up before training. They were often just as useful to compose oneself mentally for a stressful situation as they were for battle. It probably would have come to fruition (though more likely she would have spat her venom at him as she did many others), until a benign accident had her colliding with one Mark Penderghast. Mark was someone who Kiba felt a sort of unspoken kinship with - on a surface level he and Mark were quite similar. Stoic, silent and driven. Of course, he had no actual basis for this assessment as their comparable traits acted as a barrier to entry for any deeper understanding of one another. On evenings where the guild hall wasn’t quite as busy, the two would often be seen at the bar, enjoying a drink with nothing but a few stools and silence between them. Those were the nights Kiba preferred. Mark didn’t come with the expectation of socialising like some of the others did. He seemed just as content to enjoy the peace and quiet as Kiba did. Judging Mark to be a man of even temperament, Kiba didn’t think much of his collision with Adelyn. A curt recognition of the event slipped from the older man’s lips, and that was that. Until it wasn’t.
The words ‘even temperament’ certainly did not apply to Adelyn, and the previous escalation with Nolan had barely begun to settle before this unrelated incident occurred. Kiba had already turned back around to head out when Adelyn’s voice sent a pang of realisation through his chest. Of course she would have reacted that way. He turned back around to try and bring her attention back to where they were headed. The fresh air? Calming down? Remember? Evidently not. By the time he saw her it was too late; she had placed herself in front of Mark and demanded an apology while trying to catch her breath from exertion. Her audacity and disrespect to an elder should have already been shameful enough, but the misplaced determination to forcefully catch up with him just to make a point was the cherry on top. Even Kiba struggled to not crack a smile at the display.
Wandering over to catch the end of her rant, Kiba lowered his head in acknowledgment of Mark before standing a few feet apart from Adelyn. He made no recognition of her actions, only lifting his chin in the direction of the door to, hopefully, remind her of why she had set off in the first place. A good part of him realised it may be a pointless endeavor; if she was set on getting this apology then hell itself would have to freeze over before she yielded.
To Ky’s surprise, the golden cloud stirred at his touch as any living creature might. The soft cotton of its body held a certain weight to it and felt cooling on his hands, like droplets of fresh morning dew. He withdrew his hands from the cloud, holding them up to his face to inspect the ever so slight dampness. A living cloud. With each passing day the young man continued to discover just how vast and unique this magical world was. His thoughts drew to Kim. How much had his brother had already seen? What marvels would he share with Ky once reunited? He often envisioned the day, hoping it would come sooner than later. Another pair of hands began probing the cloud. Ky’s gaze followed up the length of the woman’s arms until he was able to see the blank, porcelain white iris that remarkably matched her shoulder length hair. She was even garbed in whites, contrasting with a deeper complexion. Ky found her quite appealing, a tinge of rose very slightly flushing his cheeks as he quickly averted his gaze. He was of an age where thoughts of the opposite sex still felt strange; embarrassing even. These things were never discussed in the Lien household. Ky’s awareness of his own awkwardness only served to make him more self conscious. Fortunately the young lady was similarly interested in the golden cloud and paid him no mind. Ky stared up at the brown haired man as the other stranger approached him, grabbing his attention with a tap on the shoulder.
The heavier man held himself with an air of confidence that Ky found to be very inviting. His movements were exaggerated and comical. They reminded Ky of a cartoon character. The man hopped towards him, introducing himself as D’angelo Schultz whilst lounging upon the cloud as one would a chaise. Ky snorted at the near fall, covering his widening grin with a hand. “I’m Ky L-” He began, before remembering the notoriety of his family’s name. He wasn’t sure if D’angelo hailed from Fiore, but he had made it a point to refrain from giving up his identity as the Lien heir. He didn’t wish for word to reach his parents. They would surely send for him if they found out his whereabouts. “Ky. You’re pretty weird, tangelo.” He hadn’t intended to mistake his name for a large citrus, but upon realizing his error Ky seemed more impressed at the rhyme than apologetic for butchering a stranger’s name. Nevermind that he had also just bluntly insulted him. “Ha! Tangelo! That’s good!” Ky giggled, beaming up at D’angelo in expectant recognition of his wordplay. His childlike aloofness denoted a lack of malice behind his words. At the very least, it was clear he hadn’t intended to make a mockery of the newcomer.
Kiba paused to consider how best to respond to Nolan’s observation that he was ‘having fun’. A futile endeavor, seeing as he opted for his usual curt nod and slightly forced smile. Eager to remove the attention from him, he took another swig of the stout, which he had been nursing for so long that it had gone tepid and warm.. He couldn’t hide the grimace that momentarily swept across his face as he placed the mug down on the counter and slowly slid it as far from him as he could. He made sure to check that the bartender was too occupied with some other task and wouldn’t notice his dismissal of the drink. He realized he had inadvertently given Nolan an answer in regards to his enjoyment of drinking. He looked back at the other man and lifted his hand with the palm flat towards the ground, rotating it left and right at the wrist in a ‘so-so’ gesture. He took note of Adelyn, whose head was currently being pushed down whilst Nolan talked with him. She’s not going to like that. And sure enough, she did not. Kiba leaned back at verbal lashing the young girl was dishing out. Such confidence to talk to her elders like that. He half expected Nolan to swat the back of her hand with a cane; a common punishment for insolent peers back in Isvan.
Concern started to grow for Adelyn as she became more flustered, even going so far as to attempt to shove Nolan. It was like a child throwing a tantrum. I suppose she is still a child. Kiba mused, wondering about what kind of life this girl must have lived before coming here. His attention was drawn to the familiar, chipper voice of the ever optimistic Ria. “Yeah.” The word came out like a short breath of air, as though it was mixed in with a sigh. The quick verbalisation, which was in response to Ria’s query about Jenna’s performance, was about as much as Kiba spoke when he chose to use his words. Nolan’s composure seemed to crumble before the water mage’s very presence. It was a most peculiar switch given the unsettling nature of his apology towards Adelyn. Strange man. Although Kiba thought it to be quite honorable to admit fault to a younger companion, Nolan’s eyes held a stifling coldness to them which made the hairs on the back of his neck stand up. Yet his manner with Ria piqued his interest somewhat. Was the resident ray of sunshine perhaps far more intimidating than she appeared at a glance? Then it dawned on him. A crush. Nolan clearly fancied Ria and could barely get a word out over his nerves. Kiba nodded to himself and decided to make himself scarce as any respectable wingman would do for an infatuated… friend? No, that was too forward; he and Nolan weren’t that familiar. An acquaintance, then.
He rose to his feet, walking beside Adelyn before cautiously gesturing a hand towards the Guild’s entrance. He knew better than to actually touch her given the prior ordeal. “Air?” He offered, hoping a change of scenery may be of some help to the girl whilst simultaneously setting up Nolan a chance to be alone with Ria. He made for the exit, unsure if Adelyn planned to follow or not. He shot a quick glance back over his shoulder at Nolan. A quick thumbs up, sneakily tucked under his left arm and concealed from Ria’s view, was flashed alongside a knowing smirk as he turned back around and headed on his way. He turned towards Jenna as she gave her announcement, making a mental note to come back inside and check the job board. Perhaps when the Guild was a bit less busy.
The guild hall had come alive with the day’s festivities. It was as though half the town had made their way to Rembrandt's up and coming mage guild, giving the otherwise spacious hall a very tightly packed, busy feeling. Drinks poured freely at the bar, a cacophony of pints clanking together and inebriated jeers resonating from the occupied stools. The thumping of feet against the floorboards in rhythm with the band's music only enhanced the revelry, but could not compete with Jenna’s vocals. The guildmaster took center stage, seemingly enjoying herself as much as the audience was.
Ky wasn’t exactly sure how he came to be packed in with the moshing crowd of dancing drunkards. He had been coasting along the outskirts of the dance floor; only wanting to sneak a closer view of the band members who he had come to recognise over his brief few weeks with the guild. Yet it seems that a group of patrons, older women perhaps no older than thirty, had partaken of one too many glasses of wine, and simply swept the young boy up with them as they themselves made their way into the fray. Not one to shy away, Ky was content to engage in his own clumsily awkward attempt to dance. He was incredibly off beat. He resembled more of a deer slipping on ice than a person trying to move in rhythm. The patrons egged him on nonetheless. This was a space for enjoying oneself, and there was no wrong way to do that, surely.
Then, parting the sea of dancers like a ship moving through the waves, a larger gentleman had made his way to the middle of the dancefloor. He was a stranger to Ky, but the young boy paid him little mind. There were so many faces from town he had never seen before here. What was one more? The crowd welcomed him into their ranks, hooting and cheering as the song began to reach the final chorus. Ky had stopped dancing, looking past the stranger to a golden puff of vapor that seemed to be tailing him. The weather anomaly was most curious, and the young lad found himself drifting away from the crowd to go and investigate it. How? The way boys have been investigating oddities since time immemorial. He prodded his finger into the golden mass, wondering if the entity was perhaps more solid than it appeared. “This thing is so weird. Can clouds be gold?” Ky wondered aloud, to no one in particular. His prodding became a bit more invasive, squeezing the sides to see if he could grab on to it.
Kiba was sourly nursing some sort of dark ale, taking small sips while trying to hide the displeased scowl from the bar maiden. There had been a slight miscommunication when he had attempted to place his order. The young man had been in the mood for something a bit smoother; a nice clean spirit that would warm his chest and perhaps ease up his nerves. The guild hall was already a place he found quite discomforting on the best of days. The festivities had drawn such a crowd that he could almost feel his heart trying to crawl up through his throat and make a mad dash for his quarters. So when he attempted to gesture to a nice bottle of what he presumed was vodka (although it could have been gin), the young lass at the bar was already swamped with a plethora of other orders and mistook the path of his finger to an ale they had on tap. The thought of correcting the mistake never once occurred to him. He peered at the staff mixing up drinks from behind the bar, the large influx of customers definitely giving them a run for their money. He didn’t wish to add to their burdens. Thus, he continued to suck on the intense brew in the hopes he’d quickly acquire a taste for it.
There were a few somewhat familiar faces at the bar. Nolan and Adelyn looked like they were enjoying the party even less than he was. Though that was hardly surprising. He knew little of the newcomers, partly because he didn’t pry and also because the pair had already garnered a reputation for being standoffish. That was putting it kindly, in the case of Adelyn. Nolan’s indifference was preferable to Adelyn’s venom anyday. Having a penchant for keeping out of people’s way, Kiba had never personally faced Adelyn’s pointed barrage of insults. He had witnessed a fair few of her reads against those unfortunate enough to draw her ire. The very thought of it made him shudder.
The song had reached its end, prompting a round of applause from the crowd. Kiba raised his pint to Jenna. His own silent acknowledgment of a job well done. The music in this country was far different from what he was used to. Then again, he didn’t have much of a chance to enjoy the arts back in Isvan. He peered back towards Adelyn as she remarked on the performance. Clearly not her cup of tea. He took another painstaking sip from his ale, the only solace being that warm flush in his cheeks that only alcohol could bring. That same sensation came with a sudden rise in bravado, prompting a barely audible chuckle at the viper’s commentary. “Hmph.” Kiba couldn’t help but compare her mannerisms and speech to that of the nobles of his homeland. She could definitely give them a run for their money with those pointed glares and upturned nose. A potential noble and some sort of holy man. Rising Starborn seemed to be attracting all kinds of intriguing sorts.
Taught not to burden others with his presence from a young age, Kiba doesn’t seem to have much of an outward personality. He comes off as very stoic and uninterested, reacting to most situations with the same relaxed glare and coy smile as always. Even when presented with something particularly confronting, the most you’ll get from him is a raised eyebrow or slight frown. He is the definition of a closed book.
Strong willed and silent, Kiba possesses a loyalty and drive that few can rival. He is a steadfast protector with a complete disregard for his own wellbeing - placing those he has sworn to defend before himself no matter the cost. His duty is all he needs to be fulfilled. He forces himself to suppress his own desires and wants due to his harsh upbringing. He has found comfort in the simpleness of his existence, and fears what would become of him if he were left to find his own reason for being.
It is easy to mistake Kiba’s social ineptitude for stoicism. Truthfully, the boy has spent so little time around actual people he just doesn’t know how to interact with them. He has become reclusive and shy, which is becoming more of a glaring issue as he grows older. He is a selective mute who struggles to get even a peep out when in any social situation despite being more than capable of speech. For those able to break through his shell, he may open up and speak to them in short, mumbled sentences.
He loves to be active and oftentimes loses his composure while training or sparring, revelling in the adrenaline of it all. He is a good sport and shows both reverence and respect to his opponents and allies alike.
Strengths
✦ Martial Poise: Years of dedicated training has honed Kiba's body into a cold, unfeeling weapon. He moves without hesitation with a certain grace and swiftness to his steps and strikes. He exerts his power efficiently with great precision and razor sharp reflexes; the traditions of the Isvanian warrior arts living on through him.
✦ Adept Swordsman: To Kiba, the Empty Blade is but an extension of his own body. While he is no master, he takes to the sword as naturally as a fish does water.
✦ Iron Will: It is quite difficult to sway Kiba from his duty. He is a very driven individual who places his mission before all else.
Weaknesses
✦ Underwhelming Strength: While not physically weak by any stretch of the imagination, Kiba's true strength relies in his finesse and the precision of his attacks. He isn't a physical powerhouse who can overpower opponents. He often needs to employ clever swordplay to surpass his foes.
✦ Straightforward Thinker: Kiba doesn't really think outside of the box. A warrior at heart, his usual course of action is to draw his blade and settle matters with blows. Thinking beyond that is not his strong suit.
✦ Naive: There is much Kiba does not know of this world. While he does possess a modicum of common sense, he is often the victim of trickery and silver tongued charlatans. Gullible to a tee, he is pretty easy to mislead provided you tailor your words to fit his current goal.
Guild
Rising Starborn
Mage Rank
B Rank
Guild Mark Location
Right Pectoral
Magic
Empty Sky Form
A Holder Magic channeled through Saint Shiva’s Empty Blade, a katana imbued with Ice Magic that is said to freeze anything it cuts. Drawing the blade itself will drain the wielder of their magic power over time, but allows them to create and manipulate ice to enhance their swordplay.
Frostbite: When drawn, the Empty Blade will begin to freeze anything it slices. This affects inanimate objects quicker than it does people. Causes the target to move and react slower, the effect increasing the more Frostbite is built up on them.
Ice Blade: Conjures blades of ice at various sizes, angles and distances. Can be launched as projectiles. Kiba can employ this technique to varying degrees of power depending on how much magic he chooses to exert.
Crystal Slash: Empowers sword strikes with ice that extend the range and cutting power of the Empty Blade. Can be used with the blade sheathed but will not build Frostbite if used in such manner. These slashes can be launched at foes at a distance.
Permafrost: Delivers a sword slash with the drawn Empty Blade, causing targets afflicted with Frostbite to become Frozen.
Frozen: Target is trapped in ice, unable to take any movement action for a brief period. Ice will melt at the end of the effect, leaving them unharmed. Targets afflicted with higher amounts of Frostbite are trapped longer.
Shatter: Sheathes the Empty Blade, shattering the ice around any Frozen targets for heavy damage.
Dual Ice Strike: Strikes twice in a wide arc before the caster in quick succession. The first slash applies Frostbite whilst the second applies Permafrost.
Snow Flower Storm: An Iaijutsu technique that delivers a series of weak slashes to the target that rapidly applies Frostbite before sheathing the blade. Possessing such speed that the wielder appears to never draw their blade.
Blizzard: An Iaijutsu technique that strikes a target with Permafrost before sheathing the blade to Shatter any Frozen targets. Possesses the same bewildering speed of other Iaijutsu techniques.
Empty Sky Form - Winter’s Riposte: An Iaijutsu technique that has the wielder assume a defensive stance. If struck by any physical attack, the wielder will dash through their target with a heavy Permafrost slash before sheathing their blade to Shatter them.
Driving Frost: An Iaijutsu technique that has the wielder gather energy whilst their blade is sheathed. After a brief moment, the energy is released in a long ranged, ninety degree Frostbite slash in any direction.
Biting Frost: As Driving Frost, requiring a longer channel time but instead covering a two-hundred and seventy degree angle.
Diamond Frost - Axe: An Iaijutsu technique that has the wielder gather energy while their blade is sheathed. Cleaves a moderate area around them with a Permafrost slash.
Diamond Frost - Scythe: As Diamond Frost - Axe but instead cleaving a larger area; with the exception of a moderate area in melee range of the wielder.
Empty Sky Form - Heavenly Moon Strike: An Iaijutsu technique that has the wielder slicing through their opponent with a quick, mid ranged dash. Applies Permafrost.
Equipment
✦ Saint Shiva's Empty Blade: An Isvanian relic that is said to have once belonged to Saint Shiva, a prominent mythological figure in the Isvanian faith. The blade is made from Perfect Ice that is enchanted to never melt and freezes anything it cuts. Similar to a lacrima, the blade seems to radiate it's own magical aura. Though this magic cannot be tapped into as additional reserves. It is simply what sustains the magic of the blade itself.
✦ Ceremonial Tanto: A dagger used in Isvanian practices. It is anathema to wield to blade against another. It is a sentimental belonging to Kiba that he often finds himself grasping for in uncertain times.
✦ Pan Flute: A simple wind instrument for passing time on the road.
History
His story is not unlike many of orphaned street urchins that roam the Isvanian capital. A member of the nobility will often scour the slums for promising trainees; the ones who still possess that spark of life in their eyes. That desire to survive, no matter the cost. They are taken in, given food, a bed and a roof over their heads. Then, once they are comfortable and eternally grateful to their saviors, the re-education begins.
Their old names are abandoned, for they are not permitted to be named as a person does. They are taught that they are no longer people. They are given an identifier that reflects their purpose in life, a moniker that makes their role easily identifiable whilst still reminding them that they are mere tools - nothing more.
One such tool was given the name Kiba, meaning ‘Fang’. One of many fangs in the maw of the Isvanian Guards, he was trained to be a weapon who struck down the enemies of his lord without hesitation or emotion. For years he trained under many different mentors, each one's grueling challenges further cementing his new way of life through their cruel trials and torture. Finally he was given to another tool to finish his training. Tsume. 'Claw'. They spent many years together, Tsume imparting the warrior arts upon Kiba as was his purpose. Though he was not supposed to, Tsume grew to care deeply for this one particular Fang. Kiba looked fondly upon his mentor as well; the unspoken bond of father and son tethering one’s heart to the other.
The day would come when Kiba’s training would end and he would be designated amongst the Isvanian nobility to fulfill his purpose until his life was spent. His final meal with Tsume and the others he trained with was a somber one, but he did not lament his situation. He knew he would have died on the streets, and a life in service to others was better than none at all. Yet Tsume had other plans for the child he cared so much for.
Kiba was awoken in the middle of the night by his mentor. Tsume’s voice was hoarse and his hands trembled. As though every part of his nature was rejecting the choice he was about to make. The two stowed away to the town docks where a trading vessel was loading cargo. A masked woman by the name of Crow awaited them. Tsume, wanting a better life for Kiba, had arranged to have him taken to Pergrande. The young boy was perplexed by the sudden change of plans, the instincts of his training fighting against Tsume’s decision. The older man just smiled, explaining to him that he was not suited to be a tool. Because tools are not loved, and cannot love. Yet Tsume loved him. As much as any father could love their child. He apologised for the upset, but hoped that one day Kiba would see himself as so much more than just a weapon. He handed his sword to the boy, as well as a sacred ritual dagger, before exchanging coin with Crow and bidding them farewell.
Kiba, resigned to his mentor's decision, was frisked away under the cover of moonlight to Pergrande. He never knew what became of Tsume, but he was not so naive to believe that his treachery would stay uncovered for long. Upon landing, Crow took pity on the lad, who stood in a strange land as a lost lamb without a flock. She arranged for Kiba to be placed in the service of Jenna Wolfsbane, an old colleague. This suited Kiba fine; offering his blade to Jenna in lieu of some Isvanian noble.
With the advent of Rising Starborn, Kiba was one of the founding members who helped see Jenna's vision to fruition. His time in Pergrande has done him good, but he still has much further to go before Tsume's dream for him can be realised.
Extra Information
✦ Nameless: Children trained under the Isvanian nobility are not permitted to take a traditional name as a person would. They are given a title that reflects their life's purpose. Kiba means 'Fang'. It is indicative of his role as a weapon.
✦ Selective Mute: Kiba can talk, but he often chooses not to. This is generally a byproduct of severe social anxieties as well as his harsh training that sought to dehumanize him.
There’s not much about Ky Lien that most won’t immediately recognise as the typical traits of any ordinary thirteen year old boy. He is possessed of a boundless energy, insatiable curiosity and a mischievous streak that his elders find both endearing and quite irksome at times. He’s as hard headed as the rocks he throws around; quick to show his bravado and spirit when either are challenged. He brings a playful energy to most situations and often plays the clown in lieu of treating a situation seriously.
Ky has a distinct lack of emotional maturity and often speaks his mind, which often comes off as insensitive or crass. Grappling with the emotional rollercoaster of adolescence and his own trauma often makes it hard for him to process emotional responses that are uncomfortable for him. When this panic grips him he has quite a temper and often regulates his feelings with violent outbursts against whatever inanimate object happens to draw his ire. Joining up with Rising Starborn has definitely been a welcome help in working to process those feelings; especially with so many friendly, experienced mages around to offer their support when needed. In a lot of ways, being with them reminds him of what his own family was once like before things got complicated.
Strengths
✦ Confident. Ky is fearlessly naïve and willing to take on most challenges head on. ✦ Lighthearted. He brings an energetic, positive vibe to almost every situation. ✦ Strength. Physically strong and able for his age.
Weaknesses
✦ Untrained. Has little martial or magical training. ✦ Stubborn. His hardheadedness is often a detriment. ✦ Emotional. He is easily flustered and prone to losing his cool.
Guild
Rising Starborn Marked on his right shoulder.
Mage Rank
C Rank
Team Members
None
Magic
Geomancy: Caster Magic that allows for the manipulation of earth and geomagnetic forces. Unlike Earth Make, Geomancy is focused around controlling the earth that is present nearby the caster. They are unable to produce their own matter. Earth is not an element that is easily tamed, requiring not only magical fortitude but also great physical strength in order to manipulate effectively. For this reason, Geomancer’s train their bodies to become exceptionally strong; able to shift and shape the earth with mighty blows.
Lesser Geokinesis: Ky can manipulate small to moderate amounts of earthly material with his magic. He can shape this matter into basic forms, but not to the extent that they can be effectively weaponized.
Rock Surfing: Ky kicks up a slab of earth from beneath him that he can freely maneuver around with. Allows for quick movement and repositioning.
Stone Remnant: The Geomancer conjures an effigy of themselves from the earth at a desired location. The remnant remains and can be manipulated with their other abilities. In a pinch, Remnant’s can be used as cover. Ky can conjure up to 3 remnants currently.
Stoneskin: The Geomancer encases parts of their body in a thick layer of earth, decreasing their speed and agility in exchange for enhanced durability and weight. Ky can encase both of his fists in Stoneskin.
Rock Sling: Claws up the ground to send a wide volley of jagged rocks in a targeted direction. While not the strongest of spells, it is very fast and can be easily chained into after other attacks.
Threaded Volley: Ky tears up a series of five small to medium rocks that orbit him temporarily. On command, he can fire individual rocks at desired targets or volley all of them at once as a stronger attack.
Boulder Smash: Winds up a heavy punch, encasing Ky’s fists in Stoneskin if not already applied, before delivering a solid haymaker to the opponent. Can also be used to shatter relatively solid constructs.
If used on a Stone Remnant, the strike will send it flying a considerable distance before the effigy erupts for heavy damage when it collides with something.
Upheaval: Ky raises up a large slab of earth to act as cover. Can be fired forward to slam into opponents.
Earth Shock: Blasts a target with geomagnetic energy that shocks and Magnetizes them for a short duration. Magnetized targets charge any Stone Remnants near them, causing them to strike them with a lesser Earth Shock; refreshing the magnetized duration and destroying the remnant.
Geomagnetic Grip: Pulls a Magnetized target towards Ky. Can also be used on Stone Remnants to quickly pull them back to Ky, colliding with anything along their path.
Equipment
✦ Training Bo. A wooden staff with no remarkable qualities. The grain is splintered from excessive force being applied.
✦ Handwritten Note. The letter meant for his mother. He can't seem to part with it.
✦ Strange Rocks. Ky enjoys collecting any oddly shaped or coloured rocks and crystals he comes across.
]History
Ky, the younger of the two Lien sons, grew up with much adoration for his elder brother Kim. The two were inseparable and were the pride of their parents. The name Lien holds some significant weight in Fiore, being the namesake for a prominent wizarding corporation. Ky’s great grandfather had originated the organization, passing it unto his son and so forth. It was expected that Kim was to be groomed to inherit his father’s position, but the boy had loftier ambitions. Their mother was far less stringent than the boy’s father was; a free spirit who fondly remembered the old ways. She shared stories of heroic mages banding together in guilds not out of some sense of profitable pragmatism, but real comradery and heart.
It was these tales that drew Kim to Pergrande in the first place - a land free of the bureaucracy that had tainted Fiore’s guilds. Of course, confessing his desire to migrate to a foreign nation did not go over well with his father. Ky was quite young at the time, but even he remembers the argument that tore their family apart. Feelings that sat just beneath the surface burst forth in a tidal wave of screaming and crying. Words said that could never be unsaid. Their father offered an ultimatum. Leave and you will never be welcomed back.
Ky knew a choice had been made when he saw his brother slip away through the front door of their home for the last time.
Wracked by grief, resentment, and abandonment, the Lien family was never quite the same after Kim left. The father absorbed himself in his work and became irritable at any mention of his first born. His anger often misdirected towards Ky’s mother. She grew withdrawn, the flame of passion having sputtered and faded from her eyes on the night everything changed. Ky, too young to understand and process his own feelings, grew agitated and impulsive. Labeled a problem child and delinquent. Soon enough it felt as though everyone, even his parents, had simply forgotten he was still there. As though he had left with Kim that night. Perhaps he should have.
The finality of that thought set things in motion. He packed a knapsack and pilfered a hefty amount of jewels appropriate for enticing a morally dubious ferryman into looking the other way while he stowed away on one of the trading ships headed to Pergrande. His hands clutched the handwritten note he had decided not to leave his mother. Doubt crept in but he pushed it out. Instead, he thought of his brother. Finding Kim was his priority. He wasn’t sure where to start, but his aimless wandering once the ship landed ashore eventually led to a chance encounter with Jenna Wolfsbane. She offered a warm bed and a chance to earn his keep. Ky accepted, joining up with the Rising Starborn guild in Rembrandt.
Taught not to burden others with his presence from a young age, Kiba doesn’t seem to have much of an outward personality. He comes off as very stoic and uninterested, reacting to most situations with the same relaxed glare and coy smile as always. Even when presented with something particularly confronting, the most you’ll get from him is a raised eyebrow or slight frown. He is the definition of a closed book.
Strong willed and silent, Kiba possesses a loyalty and drive that few can rival. He is a steadfast protector with a complete disregard for his own wellbeing - placing those he has sworn to defend before himself no matter the cost. His duty is all he needs to be fulfilled. He forces himself to suppress his own desires and wants due to his harsh upbringing. He has found comfort in the simpleness of his existence, and fears what would become of him if he were left to find his own reason for being.
It is easy to mistake Kiba’s social ineptitude for stoicism. Truthfully, the boy has spent so little time around actual people he just doesn’t know how to interact with them. He has become reclusive and shy, which is becoming more of a glaring issue as he grows older. He is a selective mute who struggles to get even a peep out when in any social situation despite being more than capable of speech. For those able to break through his shell, he may open up and speak to them in short, mumbled sentences.
He loves to be active and oftentimes loses his composure while training or sparring, revelling in the adrenaline of it all. He is a good sport and shows both reverence and respect to his opponents and allies alike.
Strengths
✦ Martial Poise: Years of dedicated training has honed Kiba's body into a cold, unfeeling weapon. He moves without hesitation with a certain grace and swiftness to his steps and strikes. He exerts his power efficiently with great precision and razor sharp reflexes; the traditions of the Isvanian warrior arts living on through him.
✦ Adept Swordsman: To Kiba, the Empty Blade is but an extension of his own body. While he is no master, he takes to the sword as naturally as a fish does water.
✦ Iron Will: It is quite difficult to sway Kiba from his duty. He is a very driven individual who places his mission before all else.
Weaknesses
✦ Underwhelming Strength: While not physically weak by any stretch of the imagination, Kiba's true strength relies in his finesse and the precision of his attacks. He isn't a physical powerhouse who can overpower opponents. He often needs to employ clever swordplay to surpass his foes.
✦ Straightforward Thinker: Kiba doesn't really think outside of the box. A warrior at heart, his usual course of action is to draw his blade and settle matters with blows. Thinking beyond that is not his strong suit.
✦ Naive: There is much Kiba does not know of this world. While he does possess a modicum of common sense, he is often the victim of trickery and silver tongued charlatans. Gullible to a tee, he is pretty easy to mislead provided you tailor your words to fit his current goal.
Guild
Rising Starborn
Mage Rank
B Rank
Guild Mark Location
Right Pectoral
Magic
Empty Sky Form
A Holder Magic channeled through Saint Shiva’s Empty Blade, a katana imbued with Ice Magic that is said to freeze anything it cuts. Drawing the blade itself will drain the wielder of their magic power over time, but allows them to create and manipulate ice to enhance their swordplay.
Frostbite: When drawn, the Empty Blade will begin to freeze anything it slices. This affects inanimate objects quicker than it does people. Causes the target to move and react slower, the effect increasing the more Frostbite is built up on them.
Ice Blade: Conjures blades of ice at various sizes, angles and distances. Can be launched as projectiles. Kiba can employ this technique to varying degrees of power depending on how much magic he chooses to exert.
Crystal Slash: Empowers sword strikes with ice that extend the range and cutting power of the Empty Blade. Can be used with the blade sheathed but will not build Frostbite if used in such manner. These slashes can be launched at foes at a distance.
Permafrost: Delivers a sword slash with the drawn Empty Blade, causing targets afflicted with Frostbite to become Frozen.
Frozen: Target is trapped in ice, unable to take any movement action for a brief period. Ice will melt at the end of the effect, leaving them unharmed. Targets afflicted with higher amounts of Frostbite are trapped longer.
Shatter: Sheathes the Empty Blade, shattering the ice around any Frozen targets for heavy damage.
Dual Ice Strike: Strikes twice in a wide arc before the caster in quick succession. The first slash applies Frostbite whilst the second applies Permafrost.
Snow Flower Storm: An Iaijutsu technique that delivers a series of weak slashes to the target that rapidly applies Frostbite before sheathing the blade. Possessing such speed that the wielder appears to never draw their blade.
Blizzard: An Iaijutsu technique that strikes a target with Permafrost before sheathing the blade to Shatter any Frozen targets. Possesses the same bewildering speed of other Iaijutsu techniques.
Empty Sky Form - Winter’s Riposte: An Iaijutsu technique that has the wielder assume a defensive stance. If struck by any physical attack, the wielder will dash through their target with a heavy Permafrost slash before sheathing their blade to Shatter them.
Driving Frost: An Iaijutsu technique that has the wielder gather energy whilst their blade is sheathed. After a brief moment, the energy is released in a long ranged, ninety degree Frostbite slash in any direction.
Biting Frost: As Driving Frost, requiring a longer channel time but instead covering a two-hundred and seventy degree angle.
Diamond Frost - Axe: An Iaijutsu technique that has the wielder gather energy while their blade is sheathed. Cleaves a moderate area around them with a Permafrost slash.
Diamond Frost - Scythe: As Diamond Frost - Axe but instead cleaving a larger area; with the exception of a moderate area in melee range of the wielder.
Empty Sky Form - Heavenly Moon Strike: An Iaijutsu technique that has the wielder slicing through their opponent with a quick, mid ranged dash. Applies Permafrost.
Equipment
✦ Saint Shiva's Empty Blade: An Isvanian relic that is said to have once belonged to Saint Shiva, a prominent mythological figure in the Isvanian faith. The blade is made from Perfect Ice that is enchanted to never melt and freezes anything it cuts. Similar to a lacrima, the blade seems to radiate it's own magical aura. Though this magic cannot be tapped into as additional reserves. It is simply what sustains the magic of the blade itself.
✦ Ceremonial Tanto: A dagger used in Isvanian practices. It is anathema to wield to blade against another. It is a sentimental belonging to Kiba that he often finds himself grasping for in uncertain times.
✦ Pan Flute: A simple wind instrument for passing time on the road.
History
His story is not unlike many of orphaned street urchins that roam the Isvanian capital. A member of the nobility will often scour the slums for promising trainees; the ones who still possess that spark of life in their eyes. That desire to survive, no matter the cost. They are taken in, given food, a bed and a roof over their heads. Then, once they are comfortable and eternally grateful to their saviors, the re-education begins.
Their old names are abandoned, for they are not permitted to be named as a person does. They are taught that they are no longer people. They are given an identifier that reflects their purpose in life, a moniker that makes their role easily identifiable whilst still reminding them that they are mere tools - nothing more.
One such tool was given the name Kiba, meaning ‘Fang’. One of many fangs in the maw of the Isvanian Guards, he was trained to be a weapon who struck down the enemies of his lord without hesitation or emotion. For years he trained under many different mentors, each one's grueling challenges further cementing his new way of life through their cruel trials and torture. Finally he was given to another tool to finish his training. Tsume. 'Claw'. They spent many years together, Tsume imparting the warrior arts upon Kiba as was his purpose. Though he was not supposed to, Tsume grew to care deeply for this one particular Fang. Kiba looked fondly upon his mentor as well; the unspoken bond of father and son tethering one’s heart to the other.
The day would come when Kiba’s training would end and he would be designated amongst the Isvanian nobility to fulfill his purpose until his life was spent. His final meal with Tsume and the others he trained with was a somber one, but he did not lament his situation. He knew he would have died on the streets, and a life in service to others was better than none at all. Yet Tsume had other plans for the child he cared so much for.
Kiba was awoken in the middle of the night by his mentor. Tsume’s voice was hoarse and his hands trembled. As though every part of his nature was rejecting the choice he was about to make. The two stowed away to the town docks where a trading vessel was loading cargo. A masked woman by the name of Crow awaited them. Tsume, wanting a better life for Kiba, had arranged to have him taken to Pergrande. The young boy was perplexed by the sudden change of plans, the instincts of his training fighting against Tsume’s decision. The older man just smiled, explaining to him that he was not suited to be a tool. Because tools are not loved, and cannot love. Yet Tsume loved him. As much as any father could love their child. He apologised for the upset, but hoped that one day Kiba would see himself as so much more than just a weapon. He handed his sword to the boy, as well as a sacred ritual dagger, before exchanging coin with Crow and bidding them farewell.
Kiba, resigned to his mentor's decision, was frisked away under the cover of moonlight to Pergrande. He never knew what became of Tsume, but he was not so naive to believe that his treachery would stay uncovered for long. Upon landing, Crow took pity on the lad, who stood in a strange land as a lost lamb without a flock. She arranged for Kiba to be placed in the service of Jenna Wolfsbane, an old colleague. This suited Kiba fine; offering his blade to Jenna in lieu of some Isvanian noble.
With the advent of Rising Starborn, Kiba was one of the founding members who helped see Jenna's vision to fruition. His time in Pergrande has done him good, but he still has much further to go before Tsume's dream for him can be realised.
Extra Information
✦ Nameless: Children trained under the Isvanian nobility are not permitted to take a traditional name as a person would. They are given a title that reflects their life's purpose. Kiba means 'Fang'. It is indicative of his role as a weapon.
✦ Selective Mute: Kiba can talk, but he often chooses not to. This is generally a byproduct of severe social anxieties as well as his harsh training that sought to dehumanize him.
There’s not much about Ky Lien that most won’t immediately recognise as the typical traits of any ordinary thirteen year old boy. He is possessed of a boundless energy, insatiable curiosity and a mischievous streak that his elders find both endearing and quite irksome at times. He’s as hard headed as the rocks he throws around; quick to show his bravado and spirit when either are challenged. He brings a playful energy to most situations and often plays the clown in lieu of treating a situation seriously.
Ky has a distinct lack of emotional maturity and often speaks his mind, which often comes off as insensitive or crass. Grappling with the emotional rollercoaster of adolescence and his own trauma often makes it hard for him to process emotional responses that are uncomfortable for him. When this panic grips him he has quite a temper and often regulates his feelings with violent outbursts against whatever inanimate object happens to draw his ire. Joining up with Rising Starborn has definitely been a welcome help in working to process those feelings; especially with so many friendly, experienced mages around to offer their support when needed. In a lot of ways, being with them reminds him of what his own family was once like before things got complicated.
Strengths
✦ Confident. Ky is fearlessly naïve and willing to take on most challenges head on. ✦ Lighthearted. He brings an energetic, positive vibe to almost every situation. ✦ Strength. Physically strong and able for his age.
Weaknesses
✦ Untrained. Has little martial or magical training. ✦ Stubborn. His hardheadedness is often a detriment. ✦ Emotional. He is easily flustered and prone to losing his cool.
Guild
Rising Starborn Marked on his right shoulder.
Mage Rank
C Rank
Team Members
None
Magic
Geomancy: Caster Magic that allows for the manipulation of earth and geomagnetic forces. Unlike Earth Make, Geomancy is focused around controlling the earth that is present nearby the caster. They are unable to produce their own matter. Earth is not an element that is easily tamed, requiring not only magical fortitude but also great physical strength in order to manipulate effectively. For this reason, Geomancer’s train their bodies to become exceptionally strong; able to shift and shape the earth with mighty blows.
Lesser Geokinesis: Ky can manipulate small to moderate amounts of earthly material with his magic. He can shape this matter into basic forms, but not to the extent that they can be effectively weaponized.
Rock Surfing: Ky kicks up a slab of earth from beneath him that he can freely maneuver around with. Allows for quick movement and repositioning.
Stone Remnant: The Geomancer conjures an effigy of themselves from the earth at a desired location. The remnant remains and can be manipulated with their other abilities. In a pinch, Remnant’s can be used as cover. Ky can conjure up to 3 remnants currently.
Stoneskin: The Geomancer encases parts of their body in a thick layer of earth, decreasing their speed and agility in exchange for enhanced durability and weight. Ky can encase both of his fists in Stoneskin.
Rock Sling: Claws up the ground to send a wide volley of jagged rocks in a targeted direction. While not the strongest of spells, it is very fast and can be easily chained into after other attacks.
Threaded Volley: Ky tears up a series of five small to medium rocks that orbit him temporarily. On command, he can fire individual rocks at desired targets or volley all of them at once as a stronger attack.
Boulder Smash: Winds up a heavy punch, encasing Ky’s fists in Stoneskin if not already applied, before delivering a solid haymaker to the opponent. Can also be used to shatter relatively solid constructs.
If used on a Stone Remnant, the strike will send it flying a considerable distance before the effigy erupts for heavy damage when it collides with something.
Upheaval: Ky raises up a large slab of earth to act as cover. Can be fired forward to slam into opponents.
Earth Shock: Blasts a target with geomagnetic energy that shocks and Magnetizes them for a short duration. Magnetized targets charge any Stone Remnants near them, causing them to strike them with a lesser Earth Shock; refreshing the magnetized duration and destroying the remnant.
Geomagnetic Grip: Pulls a Magnetized target towards Ky. Can also be used on Stone Remnants to quickly pull them back to Ky, colliding with anything along their path.
Equipment
✦ Training Bo. A wooden staff with no remarkable qualities. The grain is splintered from excessive force being applied.
✦ Handwritten Note. The letter meant for his mother. He can't seem to part with it.
✦ Strange Rocks. Ky enjoys collecting any oddly shaped or coloured rocks and crystals he comes across.
]History
Ky, the younger of the two Lien sons, grew up with much adoration for his elder brother Kim. The two were inseparable and were the pride of their parents. The name Lien holds some significant weight in Fiore, being the namesake for a prominent wizarding corporation. Ky’s great grandfather had originated the organization, passing it unto his son and so forth. It was expected that Kim was to be groomed to inherit his father’s position, but the boy had loftier ambitions. Their mother was far less stringent than the boy’s father was; a free spirit who fondly remembered the old ways. She shared stories of heroic mages banding together in guilds not out of some sense of profitable pragmatism, but real comradery and heart.
It was these tales that drew Kim to Pergrande in the first place - a land free of the bureaucracy that had tainted Fiore’s guilds. Of course, confessing his desire to migrate to a foreign nation did not go over well with his father. Ky was quite young at the time, but even he remembers the argument that tore their family apart. Feelings that sat just beneath the surface burst forth in a tidal wave of screaming and crying. Words said that could never be unsaid. Their father offered an ultimatum. Leave and you will never be welcomed back.
Ky knew a choice had been made when he saw his brother slip away through the front door of their home for the last time.
Wracked by grief, resentment, and abandonment, the Lien family was never quite the same after Kim left. The father absorbed himself in his work and became irritable at any mention of his first born. His anger often misdirected towards Ky’s mother. She grew withdrawn, the flame of passion having sputtered and faded from her eyes on the night everything changed. Ky, too young to understand and process his own feelings, grew agitated and impulsive. Labeled a problem child and delinquent. Soon enough it felt as though everyone, even his parents, had simply forgotten he was still there. As though he had left with Kim that night. Perhaps he should have.
The finality of that thought set things in motion. He packed a knapsack and pilfered a hefty amount of jewels appropriate for enticing a morally dubious ferryman into looking the other way while he stowed away on one of the trading ships headed to Pergrande. His hands clutched the handwritten note he had decided not to leave his mother. Doubt crept in but he pushed it out. Instead, he thought of his brother. Finding Kim was his priority. He wasn’t sure where to start, but his aimless wandering once the ship landed ashore eventually led to a chance encounter with Jenna Wolfsbane. She offered a warm bed and a chance to earn his keep. Ky accepted, joining up with the Rising Starborn guild in Rembrandt.
Bullet woke to a wave nausea wracking his body, lying face first in a small puddle of his own drool. He pushed his torso off of the wooden floorboards and onto an elbow, having regained barely enough strength to support his own weight. His head felt foggy and his stomach lurched at the smell of sulfur and rot. His eyes took a moment to adjust to the darkness around him, the faint silhouette of a woman against a dim, dark purple backlight in the corner of the room. Realizing where he was, panic gripped him. He knew the silhouette to be none other than the witch Karla, a grief wracked young lady who, before now, would never have harmed a fly. He remembered Talos and the reason why she had been so distraught. Distraught enough to debilitate him and keep him from interfering with the dark forces she had brought down upon the Glade this day. Her own home.
Even now, Bullet could feel it. Karla’s unbridled rage and sorrow warped the very space around her, creating a miasma of dread and hate that threatened to pull Bullet into it’s dark embrace. He was no stranger to such emotions. Memories of his own father, the catalyst of his own long string of misfortunes and painful experiences, came to mind. He couldn’t blame Karla for such an extreme reaction. To her, Talos was family. A cherished loved one taken right before your eyes warranted such a reaction. There was a time when hatred was all that drove Bullet. Yet even he, engulfed in so much pain and anger, was not beyond salvation.
He brought himself up onto one knee, pushing off the ground with a strained grunt. Karla’s head turned ever so slightly, enough to see the blackness of her eyes, which wept tears of onyx. The serpent, Nigel, coiled itself around her - equally entranced. They were deep within their spell, her body taut as though enclosed in a giant’s grip. She chanted strange incantations in a tongue that was not her own. Despite noticing Bullet, she seemed to entranced in her own curse to regard his stirring as any significant threat. This was his chance.
Lifting himself into a shaky stance, fists clenched and brought up to the ready beside his face. He ignored the stinging in his side where his injured ribs cried out in pain. He was starting to regret stubbornly ignoring Priscilla and Meredith’s orders to rest over the last month. Perhaps he’d be in better shape to deal with this situation. Too late for regrets He thought with a smirk, conjuring his Hellforged Gauntlets from a flash of bright light that cut through the dreadful darkness for but a brief moment. This caught Karla’s attention, her melodic chanting coming to a pause. Slowly her head tilted backwards, spine curving to accommodate the unsettling movement until Bullet was face to face with her upside down visage.
“I’m sorry Karla.” Bullet locked and loaded the gauss pistons in his gauntlets, the heat emanating from them further pushing back the dark miasma of Karla’s scornful wrath. Karla flinched, a wheeze escaping her lips as her body twisted and contorted to re-align itself as she began her approach. “I get it, you're pissed. Can’t say that I blame ya, to be honest.” He stepped forward to meet her approach, locking another gauss piston into place. Now his gauntlets started to steam and whir with intense heat, beads of sweat starting to streak down his torso. Karla opened her arms, revealing sharp, spindly fingers that clawed along the floor. The serpent hissed a command and the witch broke into a gangly sprint, lurching across the room whilst a wretched screech curdled Bullet’s blood with a brief lapse of fear. But he would not back down.
Bullet ran to meet her at the center of the room, fists at the rady. She swiped at him with her claws and he narrowly ducked to avoid them, pushing forward off his back foot and colliding his right shoulder into her abdomen. Wrapping his arms around her torso, Bullet heaved and ran forward towards the wall of the room. All the while Karla lashed at his back, leaving a trail of bleeding lacerations along his spine. With one final shove, Bullet forced her into the wall of Priscilla’s room. Stunned momentarily, she wasn’t able to react quick enough to the straight punch that caught her dead in the chest. The eruptive force of his strike shattered the wall behind her, the fiery blast from his gauntlets sending the witch flying through and into the glade below. Unable to halt his own momentum, his ribs wracked with pain, Bullet also fell from the newly formed exit and into the woods below.
Meredith delighted in Manami’s eagerness to hear more of her culture and traditions. An inquisitive soul was truly a rare find nowadays; especially in such a young lady. Young comparatively, anyway. The assistant witches finished bottling up the calming draft, pushing a cork to seal the shimmering concoction before bringing it before the older woman. “Very good ladies. I dare say we should make haste and bring this potion to Talos.” She fastened the vial to her belt, drawing her olive green traveling cloak over her shoulders and fixing her satchel of various herbs and reagents to her hip. She reached for a few spare flasks, just in case she came across the sorely missed treant sap on their way to the battle, when a loud crash and bang from downstairs startled her to attention. Could it have come from the guild hall? No, it was too close. They were quite a considerable distance up in the canopy greenhouse. Then realization hit her. “Karla!” She turned to the two witches, offering a curt nod. They responded in kind, rushing past Manami and heading down the stairs towards the commotion. “We must make sure the others are safe. From what? God knows. Let’s go.”
Meredith took the steps two at a time, surprisingly spritely for her old age. She clutched at the moth brooch securing her cloak, letting it trail behind her as the door to Priscilla’s room came into view. Standing before it, there was no mistaking this was where the disturbance had come from. A palpable malignance wafted from the room, one that was unmistakable to Meredith in its nature. A witch’s curse.
The two accompanying witches entered first, their hands at the ready to conjure any defensive spells should the need arise. Meredith felt a shiver down her spine as she entered the room. She looked around in disbelief. Priscilla’s quarters were almost unrecognizable, despite no physical difference aside from the gaping hole across the room. The sensation was, regrettably, familiar to her; a witch’s curse. Curses had a way of afflicting the physical spaces they were cast in, an eerie feeling of disjointment that sapped one of all positive emotions. She approached the hole blasted through the side of the great hollow, lamenting the damage of their home for a brief moment before a figure caught their eyes far below in the glade. A young man that she almost instantly recognised as Bullet. Was he responsible for this damage? He didn’t look well at all. Another figure a few meters in front of him was crumpled in a small pile, though unmistakingly female.
“Karla, she’s hurt. We have to get down the-” Meredith stopped in her tracks, watching as Karla’s lithe figure began to lift from the earth. Her torso raised first, limbs dangling as though an invisible claw had just plucked her from the soil. Soon her arms and legs followed suit, rigidly straightening themselves up as though the young lady were a string drawn puppet rather than a living being. Standing at her full posture, Meredith could clearly see the physical deformities that her curse had inflicted upon her.
Panic gripped her and her gaze shifted back to Bullet, lying helpless before Karla. Sure enough, the witch lunged forward and made a charge for the unconscious man with sickeningly sharp claws at the ready. “Stop her! Quick! Meredith ordered, one of her witches leaping into the fray from the tree, a conjured magic circle beneath her slowing her descent enough to land safely. The other grabbed onto Meredith and leapt alongside her, helping the older woman down to the soil. The pair rushed forward to protect Bullet, arms outspread as ephemeral chains burst forth from their sleeves, linking them to each other. Stepping between each other, weaving their bonds over and under each other in an intricate dance of quick steps to create a makeshift net that quickly found itself wrapped around Karla. The two witches reeled their magical chains back, pulling them taut and keeping the rampaging witch in place.
Meredith stepped forward, unfastening the calming draught from her satchel. She stared down at it, momentarily thinking of Talos and their allies caught afield. If she used the draught here, there was no telling what could happen to Karla’s familiar. A blood curdling screech brought her attention back to Karla, fighting against her restraints. She could see her two companions struggling to keep hold of the binding spell. At that moment she knew there was no other option. Karla had to be stopped here and now.
Meredith moved forward a few more paces, reeling her arm back in preparation to pitch the vial at the rampaging witch. Her aim was poised to hit her mark, if not for the sudden tightening of what she assumed was some sort of barbed rope around her ankle. She winced in pain, looking down to find her leg ensnared in a thorny vine that had sprouted from the ground. The realization spread across her face as a look of pure panic. Plant magic was a specialty of Karla’s.
“Watch the ground!” Meredith called to the other two, but it was too late. Their bindings faltered as both witches found themselves ensnared in a thick bramble of thorns. Karla burst free of the chains, her form twisting into the sky atop an ascending thicket of enlarged plantlife. The vines that had ensnared the three of them were connected to the main plant, lifting them from the ground and letting them dangle like baubles as Karla cackled maniacally.
The calming draught slipped from Meredith’s grasp, landing on the soft earth below and rolling a few feet away. She tried to spin around to find Manami. As far as she was aware, the young lady hadn’t descended with them and was still free to move about. Despite her efforts, her position was too inconvenient to spend much time looking for her. “Get help, Manami!” She called out, hoping that the commotion would have drawn the attention of any stragglers at the Guild hall. She prayed that not everyone had departed for the battle.
Hagar watched Shiro approach him with a bemused smirk, his arms folded over his chest. He was almost a little too cocky, which didn’t bode well with Henri. Yet it seemed as though Shiro was winding up for something big, so he’d do what he had to to make an opening for her. He drew a magic circle in the air with his spare hand, pressing it into the dampened soil beneath him with a quick whistle. The circle made a noise reminiscent of a single drop of water falling into a vast ocean, sending ripples across the watery surface of the arena. Henry watched the ripples encircle his position, a large dorsal fin emerging for a brief moment before disappearing back beneath the surface and silently making his way towards Hagar. Now all he needed to do was deal with these bindings.
Focussing his power into his spare arm, a mass of three watery tentacles encased themselves around the limb; twisting around each other to create a singular appendage that was as thick as Henri’s torso. He whips his arm around, twisting the rest of his body to add to the momentum. The tentacle mass crashes into the two swords that were binding the left side of his body, the sheer weight behind the attack enough to disrupt their bonds and free him. He looked over to Hagar who was busy deflecting Shiro’s blows, almost delighting in her enfeebled state. Henri made note of the two swords from his previous spell that were still channeling their bindings onto his companion before letting himself slip into the soil as though he were diving beneath the waves.
Hagar chuckled to himself, directing his dancing blades to parry Shiro’s attacks with nonchalant hand gestures. He only needed a single hand to direct them, whilst the other conjured a magic circle at his side. “Step off, love. I don’t need some annoying brat in me face.” said Hagar, twisting the magic circle anti-clockwise by about a hundred and eighty degrees. The blades that were linked to Shiro’s bound limbs lit up, following the motion of the circle. Shiro would find herself being dragged away from Hagar by the bindings. Hagar had aimed her towards the location he remembered Henri being, only to find that she had just been shoved to the center of the arena; where she stood alone.
“Hah! You’re mate ditch you, eh?” Laughed Hagar, failing to hide the dumbfounded look on his face. Yet before he could wonder where the larger man had escaped to, a sudden tremor at his feet brought his attention to the ground. Just as Hagar looked down to investigate, Henri burst forth from the depths, blanketed in a churning current of battering water. “Abyssal Torpedo!” Henri landed a devastating uppercut against Hagar’s chin, the additional force behind the attack enough to send the brute flying. The swords that comprised the arena shifted to ensure they did not harm him.
At the same time, a similar ripple of the currents appeared near Shiro; the massive head of a great white shark constructed entirely of water launching up from the ground and into the wall of swords. The shark’s size was so great it would have pushed Shiro to the side slightly to make room for it’s sudden entrance. It’s gargantuan jaw clasped down around a large portion of the arena, shattering a myriad of swords; including the two that kept Shiro’s limbs bound. Then as quickly as it had appeared, the shark disappeared beneath the depths. The gaping hole in the sword arena was a parting gift. The battle between Talos and Regan raged on, the sword women's graceful movements and strikes proving too much for a beast, even one as intelligent as he was, to keep up with. On top of that, it would seem as though his master’s concentration was waning. Karla was being kept from properly channeling the enchantment that had morphed Talos into the beast he was now, and the power that sustained him was lacking compared to before. The serpent’s tail hissed a hasty command, and the beast looked to take on a more defensive stance. Yet Regan had already disappeared from view. Talos was able to quickly identify that she had leaped above them, but not before that sword came driving down into the skull of the boa constrictor tail. Pinned down by Regan’s strike, Talos made every attempt to claw himself away, howling in pain as the animated appendage fell silent. Though it would seem the damage wasn’t as devastating as one might think. The great wolf seemed to be able to easily release himself from the grip of the sword, turning to stare at what he assumed was a dismembered serpent's head.
Though when Regan’s blade struck the serpent’s head, she would find it to be far more hollow than one would intend. Then the head began to heat up rapidly, little patches of flame melting away what was now obviously a molted snakeskin. The snakeskin grew hotter and hotter, large chunks of it beginning to burst into flame before the entire thing erupted in a large explosion. Talos leapt away, a familiar hissing from behind him catching the wolf’s attention. Slowly, a pink, soft fleshed serpent writhed it’s way from behind the wolf. Left in it’s vulnerable state, the serpent seemed content to remove itself from the battle, hiding behind the great wolf as it began snarling and snapping at Regan once more.