Lotrix Molick

The Vanishing Kingdom

Allard's jovial demeanor and jokes got a smile from Kistal. He clapped his hands together and sat at the bar. "Well then, I'd love an order of that curry! The rum sounds fantastic. It isn't often I get to sample some rum. The pirates up north seem to suck that in like a fish drinks water." He leaned his spear next to him on the bar, his back to the rest of the room. He was not off his guard, however, and was keenly listening for anything amiss behind him.

The satyr's height made the bar stool slightly too short for him, but he managed without issue. He was well used to his frame being an oddity beyond accommodating for. This Allard fellow, though, seemed quite interesting. He might have some stories to tell given that he looked like someone who kept in shape for the worst. Perhaps he was previously an adventurer or mercenary.

The Vanishing Kingdom

After finding his way to the inn, Kistal would untie his ox and then get it nice and comfortable. Then, he grabbed the casks of soon to be alcohol and stashed them securely in the shade to prevent any issues. He checked on each one, his practiced hands moving swiftly and his much more practiced tongue telling him how the progress came along. Each one was coming along according to plan. Following all his post-travel checks, Kistal went into the inn, the last half of his bottle of alcohol in hand. He quickly downed it in the doorway and made his way to the bar. "What do you recommend for meals? Also, what drinks would you recommend?"

His eyes drifted through the crowd, keeping a close eye on reactions. As usual, he got many disgusted or annoyed looks, but he was pleasantly surprised by seeing more than a few beastmen or half-beastmen casually talking with well-heeled citizens. Perhaps Kalla was a decent place to be for someone like him. However, the heat was not his style. He preferred the comfort of a cool mountain or hill area. Maybe one day, Tundral would become an option again, but with the bounty he assumed he accumulated, Kistal was in no hurry to get back to that place.

The Vanishing Kingdom

The comments made while he was nearby stayed at the back of Kistal's mind while he worked. He served the pompous and prejudiced woman her meal. He then turned off his equipment and took his leave of the inn as the supper hour was done. The satyr meandered around the neighborhood, ruminating on the comments from the regulars. It gave him a very good reason to leave town and seek some adventure. It would take him to Kalla, which wasn't too far. Perhaps he could find some new profession to take up. He eventually made his way back to the inn and went in, pulling the bartender aside. After explaining his thoughts and situation, the barkeep basically said he could go. After all, Kistal wouldn't stay away forever. He would still come back and make sure to restock the alcohol for the barkeep.

Satisfied that he could always come back, Kistal left to his home. Inside, he grabbed his spear and other equipment. Then, he took some of his savings to a stable. There he bought an oxen and a sturdy cart. Then, he stopped by the supply store he used for barrels, casks, and other materials for booze. He grabbed and prepared the ingredients for a barrel of wormwood absinthe, a barrel of beer, a few casks of various wines, a barrel of vodka, and two casks of scotch. Then, he loaded the rest of the cart with feed and rations to last him the whole trip to and from Kalla. Once satisfied, despite it being nearly midnight, he set off on the road towards Kalla, taking casual swigs from one of the six bottles of absinthe he brought along from his personal stash.

The Vanishing Kingdom

Portia

Kistal stood in front of a sweltering oven, crouched low as he watched the final moments of the bread loaf cooking. As soon as it hit perfection, his hands moved with practiced ease, grabbing the peel and sliding his creation out. The aroma of the poppy seeds and the sourdough pierced the other food smells within the kitchen. He couldn't help but feel some pride in his work. Upon placing the fresh loaf on a cutting board to cool for cutting, he then returned to his stew, stirring and tasting it. The venison and beef both tasted good and fell apart in his mouth. Perfect for a luxury meal. He served up a bowl, placing it on a platter surrounded by other pre-entree food.

He lifted the platter and smoothly backed through the doorway out into the common area. The hustle and bustle of the patrons buffeted him for a moment, but he moved between bar maids and drinking men and women. The recipient of the platter full of stew, salad, and fruit sat across the room, surrounded by a bodyguard and vassal. The woman saw the food she ordered for only a moment. Once she saw the one carrying her dish, her face went pale and she barely managed to hide her disgust at the race of her cook. Kistal, keeping professional, paid it no mind and set the platter in front of her. "Here is your order: beef and venison stew with a mixed salad and mixed fruits. I also provided some homemade balsamic dressing to add more flavor. Please, enjoy your appetizers. I will be out again as soon as your main meal has finished." Kistal then bowed respectfully and turned on his hoof, leaving for the kitchen again. His keen hearing caught her leaning to her vassal and stating, "How did such a stupid brute learn to cook this well? Beastmen are little more than animals."

Kistal frowned and let out an annoyed growl. He made his way to back to his station, saying hello and chatting with some of the regulars along the way. She saw him as subhuman. The regulars saw him as their friend, cook, and purveyor of high quality booze. The duality struck him as severely annoying. The ones that judged him as brutish were also the ones that did not know beastmen personally. He discarded that line of thinking once inside his kitchen again, not wanting to spoil his day. The bread had cooled enough by his return, so he grabbed a bread knife and sliced it into thick pieces, wrapping the now sliced crusty poppy bread in cloth to help it keep until needed. He went into the cooler, grabbing a drake steak and a bottle of his best wine. He stepped back out into the warm kitchen, ready to make the rest of the meal.

His mind drifted to his desire for adventure. He loved his work and the people he now knew, but he kept feeling a wanderlust building. His instincts for freedom led him to want to leave and move. He wanted to experience more and see the rest of the world. He especially wanted to find and end the evils of slavery and forced servitude. He just needed at least one reliable person, if not a small group, to help him realize his desires.

The Vanishing Kingdom

Name: Kistalfionnis

Age: 73

Race: Full-blooded Beastman (Satyr/Faun)

Height: 6'10" not counting horns, 7'2" with horns

Appearance:


Personality: His time as a slave led him to become manipulative whenever he feels he needs or wants an advantage. He is not opposed to violence but would prefer a proper party to gain more allies rather than more enemies. Anyone that he considers a friend are treated well, though he is not opposed to trying to woo friends. Anyone that is an ally can expect him to be honest and polite but not to capitulate nor be a sycophant. Those that are neither allies nor friends will receive polite reactions until they show hostility. Once shown hostility, he will become far less polite. If weapons get drawn, he has no compunctions about maiming or murdering the people. He also has no issue with looting corpses. He views backstabbing as a death sentence. Even if he may lie, cheat, and steal, he does keep to his word. His promises are kept despite anything else he does to exploit loopholes or gain an upper hand. His life is informed by his own personal code.

Kistal loves a good party, a full drink, and good friends. Despite his many morally questionable tendencies, at heart, he wants to treat those close to him well. He will share a drink, sing a song, share a dance, and offer stories. So, while some may find him evil, he is far less so and more amoral.

Bio: Born to parents enslaved in Tundral, Kistal was forced from birth into chattel slavery. As he grew up, he became an entertainer, cook, and brewer/distiller/vintner for the family. His owner often made him wear ridiculous outfits or even do humiliating acts. This continued until he was 23.

His parents were chastised and then isolated after they accidentally dropped the family steaks. In isolation, the whole of the owner's family jeered at them, insulted them, and even abused them. The owner himself did horrifying things by torturing them relentlessly. Kistal had to watch as his parents were lashed, cut, burned, and beat for a completely minor offense. The owner and his family did not stop until both parents lay dead on the permafrost. Kistal entered a deep depression of mourning from having to watch them die. He barely managed to keep doing his job well enough, though anyone who looked at him could see how numb and dead he felt. They simply thought he was broken and a proper slave. Instead, a small flame of anger began to grow in his mind, coupling with his rather free spirit.

At that point, he began to rebel, causing him to be put into manual labor in a mine. While there, he plotted an escape. One night, after a shift in the mine, Kistal silently sneaked into the owner's home. He silently killed the owner first, taking his enchanted spear and using it to break the chains of his shackles. Then, he went through and killed the owner's wife, daughters, and son. Covered in their blood, Kistal took banners and left, killing any overseer in his way. In just one night, he tasted killing, ending with 12 people dead and leaving the other slaves free to leave or stay as desired.

Having nothing tying him to the place, he left town and escaped into the mountains. He hid high in the mountains, using his natural resistance to keep going as he foraged and barely kept fed. Once a couple weeks passed, he felt he could safely come down. He traveled north quickly, ending up in Portea. He discarded his old clothes and got the banners made into beautiful garb. By doing odd jobs, entertaining with dances, and performing occasional guard duties or assassinations, he made a decent life for himself.

Once comfortable, he began to study his tribe's magical traditions, often paying large sums for books, letters, and conversations with people versed in it. Kistal developed his own methods for casting the tribal spells, but he learned the curses, hexes, and divination his ancestors used. It took him nearly 50 years to obtain this moderately comfortable lifestyle.

He, despite still doing assassinations, burglaries, and creating scandals, primarily works as a cook at a tavern. He also makes much of their alcohol. The tavern went from a locally known place to one of the more prestigious taverns in town after Kistal applied his talents. Now, though, he is getting restless. He has funds and materials to leave and make his own way. Now, he just needs a reliable group to travel with.

Equipment:

Enchanted Spear: Spear with lights within that can be turned on or off by command. He stole this from the dead hands of his former owner.

Shaman's Trappings: His clothing is made of fine silk and feature elegant symbols and trim. They were made from various banners within his former owner's home.

Broken Shackles: His bracelets are high quality and magically locked around his wrists. The connection points for the chains have been shaved off completely. They serve as a reminder of his early life as a slave.

Abilities:

Mountain Adaptation: He can survive easily on mountains and in cold environments. While not immune to cold, Kistal can comfortably survive in cold and mountainous environments. This gives him the ability to breathe more efficiently and also immunity to vertigo and similar disorientation.

Mountaineer: Enhanced dexterity and agility combines with innate climbing ability to allow extremely strong climbing abilities. His strong legs grant him much stronger jumping ability.

Enhanced Senses: He can see clearly in anything short of pure darkness. His sense of hearing and smell are beyond human range. His sense of balance is extremely high to couple with his climbing ability.

Hoof, Horn, and Claw: His horns can gore targets and feature a more durable and thicker skull to prevent concussions and reduce damage. His claws are effective and difficult to break. His hooves, while not designed for combat, have sharp points on the toes and combine with his strong leg muscles to deliver strong blunt or piercing kicks.

Reveler: Due to his satyr physiology, he is well adapted to revels. He cannot sleep, even willingly, and takes an extremely long time of drinking hard liquor to get drunk. Even when drunk, he cannot suffer a hangover. Kistal can gorge himself on food and drink without feeling ill or getting ill. His body also has no refractory period, extremely efficient processes to keep his muscles working beyond normal human limits, and a massive metabolism to process all the food and drink he tends to consume.

Magic: Kistal can cast a limited amount of spells. They focus upon curses, hexes, and divination.

Extra notes: His magic normally involves items, dances, gestures, and frequently also features alcohol. He also always carries a set of cards and a set for liar's dice, playing up to 6 people at a time. Kistal is an almost magically good cook, baker, and pastry chef. He can make his own alcohol, given materials, at the same proficiency as his cooking. Kistal is a great dancer.

The Vanishing Kingdom

Name: Kistalfionnis

Age: 73

Race: Full-blooded Beastman (Satyr/Faun)

Height: 6'10" not counting horns, 7'2" with horns

Appearance:


Personality: His time as a slave led him to become manipulative whenever he feels he needs or wants an advantage. He is not opposed to violence but would prefer a proper party to gain more allies rather than more enemies. Anyone that he considers a friend are treated well, though he is not opposed to trying to woo friends. Anyone that is an ally can expect him to be honest and polite but not to capitulate nor be a sycophant. Those that are neither allies nor friends will receive polite reactions until they show hostility. Once shown hostility, he will become far less polite. If weapons get drawn, he has no compunctions about maiming or murdering the people. He also has no issue with looting corpses. He views backstabbing as a death sentence. Even if he may lie, cheat, and steal, he does keep to his word. His promises are kept despite anything else he does to exploit loopholes or gain an upper hand. His life is informed by his own personal code.

Kistal loves a good party, a full drink, and good friends. Despite his many morally questionable tendencies, at heart, he wants to treat those close to him well. He will share a drink, sing a song, share a dance, and offer stories. So, while some may find him evil, he is far less so and more amoral.

Bio: Born to parents enslaved in Tundral, Kistal was forced from birth into chattel slavery. As he grew up, he became an entertainer, cook, and brewer/distiller/vintner for the family. His owner often made him wear ridiculous outfits or even do humiliating acts. This continued until he was 23.

His parents were chastised and then isolated after they accidentally dropped the family steaks. In isolation, the whole of the owner's family jeered at them, insulted them, and even abused them. The owner himself did horrifying things by torturing them relentlessly. Kistal had to watch as his parents were lashed, cut, burned, and beat for a completely minor offense. The owner and his family did not stop until both parents lay dead on the permafrost. Kistal entered a deep depression of mourning from having to watch them die. He barely managed to keep doing his job well enough, though anyone who looked at him could see how numb and dead he felt. They simply thought he was broken and a proper slave. Instead, a small flame of anger began to grow in his mind, coupling with his rather free spirit.

At that point, he began to rebel, causing him to be put into manual labor in a mine. While there, he plotted an escape. One night, after a shift in the mine, Kistal silently sneaked into the owner's home. He silently killed the owner first, taking his enchanted spear and using it to break the chains of his shackles. Then, he went through and killed the owner's wife, daughters, and son. Covered in their blood, Kistal took banners and left, killing any overseer in his way. In just one night, he tasted killing, ending with 12 people dead and leaving the other slaves free to leave or stay as desired.

Having nothing tying him to the place, he left town and escaped into the mountains. He hid high in the mountains, using his natural resistance to keep going as he foraged and barely kept fed. Once a couple weeks passed, he felt he could safely come down. He traveled north quickly, ending up in Portea. He discarded his old clothes and got the banners made into beautiful garb. By doing odd jobs, entertaining with dances, and performing occasional guard duties or assassinations, he made a decent life for himself.

Once comfortable, he began to study his tribe's magical traditions, often paying large sums for books, letters, and conversations with people versed in it. Kistal developed his own methods for casting the tribal spells, but he learned the curses, hexes, and divination his ancestors used. It took him nearly 50 years to obtain this moderately comfortable lifestyle.

He, despite still doing assassinations, burglaries, and creating scandals, primarily works as a cook at a tavern. He also makes much of their alcohol. The tavern went from a locally known place to one of the more prestigious taverns in town after Kistal applied his talents. Now, though, he is getting restless. He has funds and materials to leave and make his own way. Now, he just needs a reliable group to travel with.

Equipment:

Enchanted Spear: Spear with lights within that can be turned on or off by command. He stole this from the dead hands of his former owner.

Shaman's Trappings: His clothing is made of fine silk and feature elegant symbols and trim. They were made from various banners within his former owner's home.

Broken Shackles: His bracelets are high quality and magically locked around his wrists. The connection points for the chains have been shaved off completely. They serve as a reminder of his early life as a slave.

Abilities:

Mountain Adaptation: He can survive easily on mountains and in cold environments. While not immune to cold, Kistal can comfortably survive in cold and mountainous environments. This gives him the ability to breathe more efficiently and also immunity to vertigo and similar disorientation.

Mountaineer: Enhanced dexterity and agility combines with innate climbing ability to allow extremely strong climbing abilities. His strong legs grant him much stronger jumping ability.

Enhanced Senses: He can see clearly in anything short of pure darkness. His sense of hearing and smell are beyond human range. His sense of balance is extremely high to couple with his climbing ability.

Hoof, Horn, and Claw: His horns can gore targets and feature a more durable and thicker skull to prevent concussions and reduce damage. His claws are effective and difficult to break. His hooves, while not designed for combat, have sharp points on the toes and combine with his strong leg muscles to deliver strong blunt or piercing kicks.

Reveler: Due to his satyr physiology, he is well adapted to revels. He cannot sleep, even willingly, and takes an extremely long time of drinking hard liquor to get drunk. Even when drunk, he cannot suffer a hangover. Kistal can gorge himself on food and drink without feeling ill or getting ill. His body also has no refractory period, extremely efficient processes to keep his muscles working beyond normal human limits, and a massive metabolism to process all the food and drink he tends to consume.

Magic: Kistal can cast a limited amount of spells. They focus upon curses, hexes, and divination.

Extra notes: His magic normally involves items, dances, gestures, and frequently also features alcohol. He also always carries a set of cards and a set for liar's dice, playing up to 6 people at a time. Kistal is an almost magically good cook, baker, and pastry chef. He can make his own alcohol, given materials, at the same proficiency as his cooking. Kistal is a great dancer.

Heroes of Azure City 🎫 Always Open

Azure City-Nari's shop
Interactions-None

After her apple, Nari had an uneventful drive back home. She unpacked easily and reflected on what had happened. She couldn't shake the enjoyment she had from taking down the goons. She also couldn't risk her livelihood either. She had to come to a decision soon. She left the dreary concrete jungle into her much more colorful shop. Plants of all sorts sat neatly around, always vibrant and in season. She slipped behind the counter and into the back, going up the stairs to her apartment. Inside was something not surprising for a botanokinetic mutant. Her furniture was plants, her food was homegrown, her walls and ceiling were decorated with flowering ivy. It was perfect to her. She sat on a couch, tapping at it calmly with her fingertips. "Maybe the incident was isolated and I shouldn't get too worked up about it."

She turned on the television, checking each news channel. Her expression went from nothing to a deep frown. Every channel was covering it and pulling out the usual arguments against or for mutants. Some even called for vigilantes to come back. That didn't help Nari's mind. She got more riled up. Deciding to let it sit until the next day when it wasn't fresh in her mind, Nari turned off her tv, grabbed a small meal, then left to wander the streets. Before going, she changed her appearance completely, avoiding both her normal look and that of her vigilante identity.

Heroes of Azure City 🎫 Always Open

Festival Grounds-Nari's Booth/Van
Interactions-None

The whole debacle left a bad taste in Nari's mouth. She hated seeing innocents, especially powerless innocents, be attacked by those with powers. But, she also got another taste of fighting, and she couldn't deny the love of feeling her adrenaline flowing and the sight of her enemies falling before her. It was...exhilarating. The MSU quickly mopped up the area and arrested the mutants she and Sheffield had dispatched. After a long bout of questions, ID and license checks, and general annoying pseudo-accusations, Nari was let go to return to her stand. She sighed in both annoyance and exasperation at the notion of dealing with the restrictive amount of red tape and prejudice as well as losing out on gaining new customers.

The stand, compared to others nearby, came down swiftly as she used the plants comprising it to carry her goods back to her company van. She, with the help of various vine creatures, packed everything into the vehicle and strapped it down. Nari grabbed a fresh green apple from her product and sat on the bumper of her van, taking a bite out of the apple as she thought. The sourness of the apple matched her sour expression at the failure of the day. Deep down, she wondered if she needed to return to the streets at night again, but she couldn't make a decision like that without knowing if villains were once again out of control. She absolutely wanted to get into more fights, but she couldn't risk her life without good reason anymore.

Heroes of Azure City 🎫 Always Open

Festival Grounds-Nari's Booth
Interactions-@Cryptek12

Nari, following being shoved away by Sheffield, saw him struggling. Ringing in her ears and a bit of disorientation kept her from entering the fray right away. When Sheffield became heavily endangered, she tried to prevent his weapon from being stolen. With a strong bit of focus, she summoned vines to attempt to restrain the combatants trying for Sheffield while growing a similar blade by Sheffield's hand out of plants. "Sheffield, use it. I will hold them as long as I can, but we need to get them disabled. Civilians are dying, and MSU is coming in hot!"

She looked around, trying to gauge how much longer they had before MSU showed up. She hated dealing with them when she defended herself. They tried to treat her like the aggressor usually. She found it distasteful that they treated mutants like some sort of barely held back group of criminals still. Most were just workers.

Mobile Suit Gundam: Return of War.

Lin visibly relaxed when Cassidy disarmed. As a gesture of respect, she also placed her handgun beside the other woman's. "Trust me, I dislike having a conversation with my hand practically on my gun. But, given how trigger happy many military people are, I'd rather be ready than shot." She let out a small, almost relieved sigh as Cassidy basically let her know that she was working against the Black Division, at least somewhat. "Fine, I retract saying you would deserve a cell too. Unfortunately, for all their great tech advancements, stooping to forced experimentation with euthanasia as the end result is both damaging and rather unproductive. Yes, strong Newtypes are useful, but they are still generally extremely empathetic. They need socialization and contact. Forcing them to become so strong as to harm anyone in proximity just to try and create more legends artificially is not effective. Amuro was not a great Newtype because of his power level. He was a strong one, yes, but so was Char. Both are legends for their minds. They were committed to their causes. Both wished to help and protect their own. That commitment gave them far more strength than just their powers."

She started to pace back and forth in front of the table, seeming to think. "You gave him access, but he had been there before. That means he was either a worker or an experiment. I shudder to think what propaganda he will create from the knowledge he gleans there. Spacenoids wanting to be treated better is one thing, an admirable thing really, but creating zealots will lead to countless more conflicts and practically a sea of bloodshed. I may be a mercenary, but I am none too fond of violence. I prefer to watch and track than to fight something that could have been prevented. Too bad the Federation seems intent upon another war." She stopped and looked directly at the other woman. "So, since you had plan for that, I can only assume you have more. The real question here is whether you are part of Hold's crew or an independent like me."