MaeB

♥ “𝐀𝐬 𝐈𝐭 𝐖𝐚𝐬” ♥ 𝐛𝐲 𝐬𝐮𝐧𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐬 & 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐦𝐚𝐲𝐛𝐫𝐞𝐞𝐳𝐞

• 𝐉𝐚𝐜𝐤𝐬𝐨𝐧 ‘𝐉𝐚𝐱’ 𝐓𝐮𝐫𝐧𝐞𝐫 •

• 𝟐𝟗 𝐲𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐬 𝐨𝐥𝐝 •
• “𝐈’𝐦 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐥𝐨𝐧𝐞𝐥𝐲… 𝐈 𝐜𝐡𝐨𝐨𝐬𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐛𝐞 𝐚𝐥𝐨𝐧𝐞.” •



• 𝐂𝐡𝐢𝐥𝐝𝐡𝐨𝐨𝐝 & 𝐒𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐲 𝐒𝐨 𝐅𝐚𝐫 •

The Turners were known in the small town of Little Ridge as troublemakers. A family with their fair share of issues, publicly-known conflicts and struggles, the Turners lived in a run-down house just outside of town. They were the epitome of working class; An ex-military Father searching for purpose at the bottom of a bottle and a stay-at-home Mother who turned a blind eye to her husband’s heavy hand. They had 3 children. 2 boys, 1 girl. Jackson was the middle child, overlooked and largely ignored by his parents for the entirety of his early childhood, who had far too much on their plate to learn how to love.

The children found themselves getting in trouble from an early age. What started as bad behaviour in school and general running amuck suddenly escalated to far more serious behaviour. Bad attention was better than no attention, after all. It didn’t take long for neighbours and Little Ridge inhabitants to write the Turner children off as “lost causes.” Arson, robbery, fist fights in town… The Turner brothers were simply not to be messed with. Where the eldest, Frank, was a loud-mouthed brute, Jax was comparatively introverted. He was a boy of very few words but had the eyes of someone who observed meticulously. He was the strong, silent type and would let his fists do the talking. Living in Frank’s shadow, though, meant that Jax could somewhat hide behind his older brother’s reputation. No one messed with him. No one bothered him. Jax liked it that way. He wasn’t an instigator. He never started fights. He finished them. Content with what little the family had, he’d never really known any different… Until his Mother died when he was 24.

Her sudden passing flipped the Turner’s lives upside down. Frank ended up being arrested for the final time after a bar brawl went south. His prison sentence was unforgiving. Poppy-Anne, his younger sister, left Little Ridge swearing never to return. And just six months after his mother’s death, Jax became a father. His on again / off again girlfriend had sworn blind she was on birth control and yet, that positive pregnancy test said otherwise. Jackson, much to everyone’s surprise, stepped up for his son. As soon as he laid eyes on those tiny starfish hands and kicking little legs, he vowed to leave his old life behind. Though he and Candace were never destined to stay together, they muddled their way through parenthood, coparenting whilst they lived separately.

Fatherhood forged Jax into a man. He stayed away from bars, stopped hanging out with the “wrong” crowd and cut contact with his own alcoholic father. Jackson’s son became the centre of his universe, his purpose, his beacon in the dark. But his path to redemption truly began at the Farm. Jax proved himself to be an incredibly hard worker with a tireless work ethic. Soon enough, he became an invaluable part of the Farm and beloved by the Family who owned it. They moved him on site, provided him with his own living quarters, and essentially took him in. The love he felt on the Farm was transformative. Suddenly, Jackson knew what it was like to be a part of something. The Family invited him to Christmases, threw him intimate birthday parties and gave him his first truck. In this new life, he was actually worth something. Little Ridge no longer saw him as “that Jackson Turner”… He was simply that hardworking farmhand who loved his son.



• 𝐏𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐨𝐧𝐚𝐥𝐢𝐭𝐲 •

It’s no secret that Jax has a temper. He’s passionate, fiery, committed. But leaving his troubled past behind him, that passion is now directed in an entirely healthy way at his son and his work. Jackson loves to be outside. His skin and soul has been weathered by the sun and the elements. Come rain or shine, you’ll find him outside working or embracing the outdoors.

He remains a somewhat aloof and mysterious character. Women, craving to crack his outer shell, describe Jax as brooding and hard to read. He is softly spoken. Careful with his words. Presumed unintelligent due to his lack of interest in academics in his youth, many would be surprised to know that Jackson’s silence is by no means a reflection of a lack of thought. In fact, he thinks a lot. Privately.

Watching him with his son, Jackson is unashamed in his love. Affectionate, doting, tactile, Jackson is everything his Father was not. He plays. He laughs. He reads bedtime stories… He is a calming presence even in the face of stress and crisis.

๑ ❝ 𝕮 𝔥 𝔞 𝔯 𝔪 𝔢 𝔡 , 𝕴‘𝔪 𝖘𝔲𝔯𝔢 ❞ ๑ { A Witch’s Tale - RP }

๑ JɄ₦ł₱ɆⱤ ๑
⋰ ⋱ ⋰ ⋱ ⋰ ⋱ ⋰ ⋱

_{___________________________
๑ Chapter 1 - Welcome to Corinthia ๑
Friday 6th February
6:15am
___________________________}

The train of Juniper’s vintage black dress splayed behind her, gathering at her bare feet as she descended the pronounced staircase of her home. She suddenly felt hyperaware of her surroundings, realising as those dark green orbs drifted over the hallway, that soon fresh eyes would be taking in these original fixtures and fittings. Granted, her predecessors had modernised the manor, restoring the run-down beams and worn floorboards. Her mother, with her unwavering obsession with order, had redecorated en masse with style. No room had been safe from Sorrell’s painfully tasteful touches. Lashings of paint, thoughtfully placed one-off furnishings and a scattering of many houseplants had transformed this gothic manor into a home that greeted with arms wide open. It was the kind of interior design that forced your jaw to drop, so juxtaposed to the manor’s dark and looming exterior. Of course, the home belonging to a long line of Earth Witches would be full of various plants ranging from tropical to domestic, housed in an array of handmade pots. Everywhere you looked, lush foliage stared back. The pops of green with textured leaves against the dark walls was refined in a way that only Sorrell would be able to execute.

“Gothic doesn’t have to mean cold, Junie” her mother had said, paint roller in hand dripping green paint splatters at her naked feet. She’d thrown herself into this home, letting the ongoing project absorb her completely at times. After all, the Hawthornes spent so much time at home hiding from the human world that the least they could do was be amongst beauty whilst locked away, right?

Now, years later, June stood in the hallway beneath the chandelier ready to welcome the new Covenhood into her mother’s passion project. This time, she would be the one at the front door, brandishing the manor proudly. Ironic that Sorrell was not here herself to apologise for the (non-existent) mess and laugh melodically whilst graciously accepting compliments on her choice of artwork. It was down to Juniper to fill that role now… Aislinn cawed softly at June’s ear, shifting her claws that were fastened on her right-hand shoulder.

“Corinthia is your home now, Juniper” Aislinn corrected with a tone that felt firm and encouraging. The raven often interjected when she felt her Master’s inner monologue drift off the beaten track. She was ever the voice of reason. Her words were chosen carefully, knowing the secret recipe to put June at ease.

Bare feet padding across the floorboards, Juniper gripped the grand brass knob and hesitated for a beat. Her skin prickled. The hairs on her arms stood rigidly, crackling with the presence of fellow Witches. Her body knew, regardless of the knock that had reverberated through the hallway just moments ago, that she was in the presence of great power. On the other side of Corinthia’s door gathered quite the amalgamation of Magic, June could sense it. It had been so long since she’d been in the company of the Charmed. This visceral response to her fellow Witches had been dormant whilst inhabiting Corinthia on her own. She revelled in the sensation, flexing her grip on the doorknob before clicking the lock open. The grand front door swung open, revealing the faces of 6 strangers scattered across the Corinthia steps.

Juniper and Aislinn looked back at them all, a genuine bright smile flashing across her face. Her raven cawed loudly, beak snapping in greeting. The birds tail twitched excitedly and June made brief eye contact with each and every one of the new arrivals. Luggage gripped in hands, rucksacks on their backs, pairs of eyes staring back at her expectantly, she nodded in greeting.

"Hello. I'm Gregori. You've been expecting me?” the caramel-complexioned, dark haired man at the front of the group spoke first. Thick, doe-like lashes framed his auburn eyes that fixed her with a curious gaze.

His voice was soft, calm. June inclined her head in a subtle bow.

“Indeed,” she affirmed, Aislinn’s head flicking side to side as her pinprick black eyes flitted from one Witch to another. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Gregori. A pleasure to meet all of you, in fact.”

Another voice chimed in from just behind Gregori, her dark eyes holding a steady gaze. She had a quiet confidence about her that made June smile.

“I take it I’ve come to the right address? I’m Robin Lee, though I prefer to go by ‘Wren.’”

Aislinn chirped in approval, one beady eye glinting at Wren.

“Ha! A Raven and a Wren… I like her. Her energy is… Anchoring. She harbours great power, I can sense it. Connected…” Aislinn’s voice spoke in Juniper’s mind crisp and clear, that Familiar/Master soul tie connecting the two of them mentally.

Some morning joggers chattered, their voices breathy, as they ran past the Corinthia manor. Consumed with conversation, the pedestrians didn’t so much as glance in the direction of the large group forming. There was nothing necessarily unusual about the scene unfolding, save for the Raven and pet ferret whose nose sniffed curiously from between its cage grates, but the traditionalist witch narrative begged for them to hurry indoors. June mentally brushed this self awareness aside, dismissing the second-hand anxiety that told her to usher everyone in before they attracted attention. The familiar scent of Nag Champa burning in the hallway drifted out the open door, filling the entryway. The Witch looked over Gregori’s shoulder at the others that waited patiently behind him. With an elegant flourish of her hand, Juniper gestured for her new Covenhood to make their way inside. She stepped aside, allowing enough room for their entrance, luggage in tow.

A thick, unashamed Irish jilt rung out from the small crowd. The accent had innate charm, commanding the airwaves effortlessly with its unique tones.

”Oi oi, how much a place like this cost?” Noah whistled to herself as the door opened wider. Her head angled to look past Gregori’s shoulders at the grand hallway that was hidden the other side of the threshold. ”Feckin’ half expected cobwebs an’ cockroaches on the walls. Proper cabin in the middle o’feckin’ nowhere, like… Movin’ on up in the world! Dibs on the basement. Perfect place for night terrors - Just fuckin’ wi’ya. So. When do we start burnin’ shit down?”

She had spirit. “Spunky” is how Grandma Hawthorne would’ve described her. Juniper responded with a graciously warm smile, dimples pinching her cheeks.

“Manor’s been in the Hawthorne family for generations… Mortgage was paid off years ago. Place is worth a fortune now but… It can’t ever leave Hawthorne hands,” June addressed the Irish Witch, the hint of a smile tugging at the corner of her lips. “Basement’s got a weird energy,” she continued, remembering the shift in atmosphere and cool air that kissed her cheeks every time she ventured down the creaky basement stairwell. “I’m pretty certain Hawthorne Witches past still linger there… But I’ll leave it to you to ask them to leave. Don’t burn anything just yet, okay? At least get unpacked first.” She smirked warmly, tilting her head affectionately at the Witch.

Shoes shuffled as the Witches made their way inside Corinthia, coats rustling as they moved past the front door. Aislinn chirped approvingly as the pair of them watched their new housemates trickle into the hallway. Flashes of brightly coloured hair, ripped jeans and a buzz of Magic followed in the groups wake. The Corinthia Manor seemed to breathe a sigh of relief as warm bodies filled its interior. The house had been lonely and the new arrivals were a welcome splash of colour to the blank canvas.

“I’m really hoping this isn’t a terrible idea…” the youngest of the Witches spoke quietly, almost to himself. His head was dipped, shoulders rolled inward, purple locks falling in front of his lowered eyes. He took a few hesitant steps into Corinthia and June could taste his apprehension on her tongue. “Hi… um… I’m Soren… I hope I’m not too early… Or too late…”

The young man’s voice was laced with nerves, each word creeping from his lips like it wasn’t quite sure of where to tread. Juniper automatically rested a reassuring hand on his shoulder, her palm aglow with warmth. Her eyes softened, soothing him with an encouraging nod.

“You’re right on time, Soren…” Juniper said, her voice soft and euphonious. “…And the bravery of a new adventure is never a bad idea.”

She spoke with a certainty that was matter of fact. Aislinn emphasised her Master’s encouragement with a peppy caw of approval. Then, her eyes flicked to the next arrivals, a pair. The two of them walked together with a practiced synergy, falling into step with one another effortlessly. The woman was observing the Manor with a bright, curious stare. Shoulders broad, chin slightly raised, she had a commanding presence that lead her more introverted counterpart in a somewhat unspoken way. Together? Their Magika was palpable. June smoothed her expression as she felt her skin hum like the conductor of a powerful current. Being in their presence was like stepping into static. Not wishing to make the pair of them feel self conscious, she shared a bright smile with them both.

“McKinley, two spare rooms.” It was the girl who spoke first, of course. She lifted the cage gripped in her right hand and a ferret squeaked in greeting.

Aislinn’s feathers instantly ruffled and she gave her wings a quick flap. Juniper felt her raven spiritually horripilate as she tried to assess whether this creature were a fellow Familiar or not. June summoned her Charm, calling to it like an obedient hound. Instantly, her Magika pulsed in response and she subtly flicked a finger in the ferret’s direction. She suddenly sensed the caged animals determination to be released from the carrier, she heard the excitable squeaks of an animal keen to explore… But no inner voice shared with a Master. The endearing ferret was just that. A pet.

Now that all the Witches had filed inside, Juniper closed the front door with a satisfying click. She spun on her bare heels, sidestepping past the group as they fleshed out the entryway. Nag Champa smokiness plumed from the burning incense sticks dotted around the house and the enchanted Kitchen whistled in readiness. Juniper had called upon a simple animation spell for a large pot of coffee and fresh tea with loose leaves to be ready for the Covenhood’s arrival. The old fashioned copper kettle had filled itself with water and sat atop the flickering stove. The coffee pot had burst to life, brewing the granules and releasing a rich, vanilla accented aroma. The high-pitched whistle that cracked through the air was a call to arms for June. She breezed past them, shoulders brushing and dress billowing, entering the kitchen with a sense of purpose about her.

The infectious smell of freshly brewed coffee, English Breakfast tea leaves and freshly baked buttery croissants filled the open-plan room. It was perfect for hosting; A large island in the centre with a few wooden bar stools nested beneath the countertop. Then, a dining table permanently laid for guests and always hosting a large vase of fresh flowers. This bunch was picked by Juniper the day before; An impressive arrangement of roses, gypsophelia and eucalyptus. Fresh flowers brought a unique natural elegance to a room and Juniper simply adored curating arrangements from the well-groomed Corinthia gardens. As the Witch buzzed around the marble-topped island, revelling in the pleasure of hosting, she laid out an assortment of hand-pottered mugs for her guests. Stacking some antique side plates, she peered around the doorway at the new arrivals.

“Aislinn will show you to the vacant rooms available!” she called breezily, voice tinkering with excitement. “You’re welcome to pick whichever rooms you like, of course. I’ll let you set your things down and then if you’d like to join me here in the kitchen, there’s tea, coffee and fresh pastries ready for you.”

Aislinn’s wings fluttered as she broke into flight. Feathers rustling enthusiastically, the raven circled overhead. She flew in a couple of quick circles above the group of Witches and cawed twice and glided up the staircase to the first floor, disappearing from Juniper’s view. As she heard the sound of steps thudding up the staircase, a strange spiritual energy vibrated through the air. It was unfamiliar, unknown. Another stranger. Not a Hedge Witch by any stretch, simply an expert in the atmosphere of Corinthia, Juniper could feel a presence in the air of the manor that felt alien. It made the hairs at the nape of her neck raise, a chill skittered down her spine. She froze, hand hovering above the cutlery drawer as if she were being watched. Hesitant, June listened and watched for a sign. This was a spiritual presence that she had not come across before. Someone had entered Corinthia Manor with the 6 Witches who now busied themselves upstairs. Someone who wouldn’t be needing a room of residence.

Shelving the unusual feeling that dissipated as quickly as it appeared, a proud smile spread across her face as June prepped the welcome treats. One large hot oven tray of cooling, crispy croissants. A steaming pot of good coffee and loose tea leaves that crackled as they swam in boiling water… The Corinthia Coven felt more like home in that moment than it had in months on end. Bedrooms full of strangers, foreign clothes hanging in wardrobes, someone else’s trinkets being laid out at dressing tables… This Manor was full of fresh starts and the Earth Witch that had summoned them all positively brimmed with that novel feeling. She couldn’t wait to place warm mugs in the hands of her guests and make their introductions. It felt like the beginning of something. Something even more magical than the Magika that coursed through all of their veins.

ꜱᴜᴍᴍᴏɴꜱ - ᴛʜᴇ ᴜɴᴛᴏʟᴅ ꜱᴛᴏʀʏ ᴏꜰ ᴍᴀɢᴇꜱ [ ᴍᴀɢɪᴄ, ᴍᴜᴛɪɴʏ, ᴍᴜʀᴅᴇʀ ]

Sυɱɱσɳʂ

ȶɦɛ ʊռȶօʟɖ ֆȶօʀʏ օʄ ʀօʏǟʟ ʍǟɢɛֆ

______________________

• ƈɧą℘ɬɛཞ 1 •
• ǟռ ɨռʋɨȶǟȶɨօռ •

<sub>The Royal Mages of the Continents are introduced to the story. Seemingly, it is just another day in the life of Royal servitude. That is, until each of them receive an invitation from the Queen of Aҽƚԋҽʅɠυαɾԃ requesting council from 1 Royal Representative and their Mage. The Summons is to take place that same evening. Though there is no overt animosity amongst Continents, they seldom gather save for matters of immense importance.

The Queen of Aҽƚԋҽʅɠυαɾԃ hosts her esteemed guests in the Castle’s Banquet Room with a feast fit for Kings. Here, they will discuss the urgent matter the Queen has summoned her fellow Royals to discuss.</sub>

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Chapter 2

• ƈɧą℘ɬɛཞ 2 •
• ɬɧɛ ųŋცơųŋɖ •

<sub>A group of apostates are garnering traction. They are an Underground movement who call themselves “The Unbound.” Members range from the young blessed not yet fully acquainted with their power to disgraced Initiates who failed to become Royal Mages. The Unbound threaten the Order and have a particular disdain for the Crown. They are intercepting young Mages before the Royal Guard can distribute the blade. They’re overthrowing executions and rescuing Mage royal prisoners. Rebels, activists, anarchists… In short, a real problem.

After the Queen of Aҽƚԋҽʅɠυαɾԃ informs her fellow rulers of the apostates at her Summons, it is down to each Royal Mage to investigate the presence of ɬɧɛ ųŋცơųŋɖ in their respective Continents. They may well have already heard rumours of the group nicknamed “ȶɦɛ ɦօʟʟօա օռɛֆ“ but no one predicted that they’d garner support so quickly. For now, they’re mostly at large in Aҽƚԋҽʅɠυαɾԃ but it won’t take long for them to sink their claws into the other Continents… If they haven’t already.</sub>

____________________________

Chapter 3

• ƈɧą℘ɬɛཞ 3 •
•“ą ῳყ۷ɛཞŋ ıŋʄɛʂɬąɬıơŋ”•

<sub>Whilst the Royal Mages continue to spy, hunt and research ɬɧɛ ųŋცơųŋɖ, The Mountaine Regions notice that the Wild Wyvern population really is at large. They’re breeding at an unnatural rate, they’re unpredictable, they’re aggressive. Almost as if a new breed of the creatures has been born, these Wyvern are unlike those that are tamed by Riders. They breathe a toxic, bright green flame and are destroying small villages within the Mountaines. Wyvern Hunters and Warriors in Kunlun are strained under the efforts of containing the outbreak. They look to the Crown for guidance. How can they put a stop to this Wyvern ransacking?

Growing in number and confidence, the Wyvern have also been sighted circling over the Planes and The Dezert. It won’t be long before the dragon-like creatures descend on a new habitat. Why have the Beasts so suddenly amassed? Why are they terrorising the Realm? How will each Royal Mage handle the infestation? And will they look deeper into their sudden appearance?</sub>

ꜱᴜᴍᴍᴏɴꜱ - ᴛʜᴇ ᴜɴᴛᴏʟᴅ ꜱᴛᴏʀʏ ᴏꜰ ᴍᴀɢᴇꜱ [ ᴍᴀɢɪᴄ, ᴍᴜᴛɪɴʏ, ᴍᴜʀᴅᴇʀ ]

@Courtaud@Fabricant451@Thayr

Hello, friends! Submissions are in so if you’re still interested in joining, this is our final casting call.

ꜱᴜᴍᴍᴏɴꜱ - ᴛʜᴇ ᴜɴᴛᴏʟᴅ ꜱᴛᴏʀʏ ᴏꜰ ᴍᴀɢᴇꜱ [ ᴍᴀɢɪᴄ, ᴍᴜᴛɪɴʏ, ᴍᴜʀᴅᴇʀ ]

Would shape-changing be dark or light magic? Say, to turn yourself into a bird or something.

@Obscene Symphony

Great question! I would say that, technically, it falls under Dark Magic. Simply due to the fact that the Mage is altering their appearance.

However, provided the Mage is not drawing upon an external energy source such as the Earth, it would fall into fairly neutral magic. Especially if the end result isn’t malicious!

Perhaps a Mage has a totem or an enchanted jewel that they tap in to for shape-shifting?

๑ ❝ 𝕮 𝔥 𝔞 𝔯 𝔪 𝔢 𝔡 , 𝕴‘𝔪 𝖘𝔲𝔯𝔢 ❞ ๑ { A Witch’s Tale - RP }

@blackdragon

Not to enter Corinthia but there will be Witch Hunters that we come into contact with. Those Hunters will definitely have the capabilities to track Hazel!

ꜱᴜᴍᴍᴏɴꜱ - ᴛʜᴇ ᴜɴᴛᴏʟᴅ ꜱᴛᴏʀʏ ᴏꜰ ᴍᴀɢᴇꜱ [ ᴍᴀɢɪᴄ, ᴍᴜᴛɪɴʏ, ᴍᴜʀᴅᴇʀ ]

@themaybreeze I was asking because i was wondering about demi-human as a playable race.

@TruckKun

Though it’s an interesting concept, these Royal Mages are human, I’m afraid!

ꜱᴜᴍᴍᴏɴꜱ - ᴛʜᴇ ᴜɴᴛᴏʟᴅ ꜱᴛᴏʀʏ ᴏꜰ ᴍᴀɢᴇꜱ [ ᴍᴀɢɪᴄ, ᴍᴜᴛɪɴʏ, ᴍᴜʀᴅᴇʀ ]

Aerwyn Calliope

ąɬ ą ɠƖąŋƈɛ:

┏━━━━━━━━━┓

◊ ᗩEᖇᗯYᑎ ᑕᗩᒪᒪIOᑭE ◊

◊ ᴀɢᴇ: 28 ʏᴇᴀʀꜱ ᴏʟᴅ ◊

◊ ᴛʜᴇ ᴍᴏᴜɴᴛᴀɪɴᴇꜱ ◊

◊ ʟɪɢʜᴛ ᴍᴀɢɪᴄ ᴍᴀɢᴇ ◊

◊ ❝ ᴄʜɪʟᴅʀᴇɴ ᴀʀᴇ ᴀꜰʀᴀɪᴅ ᴏꜰ ᴛʜᴇ ᴅᴀʀᴋ,
ᴍᴇɴ ᴀʀᴇ ᴀꜰʀᴀɪᴅ ᴏꜰ ᴛʜᴇ ʟɪɢʜᴛ. ❞ ◊

◊ Rҽʅαƚισɳʂԋιρ ɯιƚԋ Rσყαʅƚყ: ◊

_{The Kunlun Crown have always favoured men for Mages and Warriors alike. When Aerwyn was conscripted, her resentment towards the Crown was palpable. Ripped from her family, thrown into the Mage quarters and treated differently to her male counterparts, Aerwyn felt like she had a lot to prove. She resented the Crown and its royal agenda. Her Mentor, Lucan, was who altered her view. He forced her to look through a different lens, challenged her pre-instilled belief system, flicked the chip from her shoulder… Tireless training reprogrammed Aerwyn’s anti-royalist mind. She came to love the structure, the routine, the order of it all. Yet still, the embers of pro-Mage movements glow in the pits of her stomach.}

┗━━━━━━━━━┛

ą ɖɛɛ℘ɛཞ ɖı۷ɛ:

┏━━━━━━━━━┓

◊ ƈɧıƖɖɧơơɖ: ◊

<sub>Kunlun is a Continent of hard-nosed, powerful, bred-to-kill warriors and Wyvern riders. Men outnumber the women by 3/1 with the birth rate for baby girls plummeting further still in recent years. Consequently, the men of Kunlun protect and serve their women as if they were fragile, precious Arcadian jewels. Females in Kunlun are wrapped in cotton wool whilst their men fight for them, hunt for them and serve the Continent.

“She should be domesticated. She should be an adept seamstress. She should crave motherhood. She should prepare herself to be a wife.” Aerwyn grew up hearing nothing but propaganda for the life that was being paved for her. A sheltered life of domestication, all in preparation for motherhood and marriage.

But Aerwyn was a wayward child. Nothing made her sicker than the idea of being shut away in a home full of her children and a Wyvern-riding husband. She sneered at those that dreamt of nothing but homemaking and sewing. She loved the outdoors. Adventures. Climbing. Fighting. Aerwyn ran rings around her 5 older brothers and quickly became known in Kunlun as somewhat of an oddity. Aerwyn’s parents despaired for their daughter’s fate.

Not only was she kicking the shins of neighbours sons and climbing the rocky fissures of the Arcadian mountains instead of learning to bake a good loaf of bread… But she’d also been touched by the hands of Magic. Simultaneously shunned and suffocated for her power, Aerwyn had no choice but to teach herself to control her abilities. She watched young Mages manifesting magic and succumbing to the overwhelm of it all. She saw weakness. Ignorance. Aerwyn vowed to herself that she would not end up with the same fate. She spent much of her rebellious childhood alone in the Mountaines, honing her power. Though she had no real comparison nor metric to measure her abilities, Aerwyn knew her power was vast and uncommon. She adapted quickly, teaching herself the basics of Light wielding during a thunderstorm one night. She channelled the power of lightning, manipulating the forks of light across the skyline.

Her conscription came on her 18th Birthday. The Kunlun Royal Guard dragged her from her bed as she slept, kicking and screaming. She was the only female Initiate Mage. The training was merciless and even with her Mountainside practice, nothing could’ve prepared her for the rigorous testing Initiates underwent. But, in spite of all those that doubted her, Aerwyn thrived in the Mage Quarters. She studied tirelessly, practiced until she burnt herself out, read every Tome she could get her hands on…</sub>

◊ ℘ɛཞʂơŋąƖıɬყ: ◊

<sub>Aerwyn’s inner fire has been moulded by Lucan over the years. Though she has learned the art of internalising that fire, it still lives within her. She is passionate. She is bold. She is outspoken. But her appointment as Royal Mage taught her to channel that energy into her duties and her magic. A Royal Mage is collected and composed. Aerwyn has the reputation of a more animated Mage than most. She is moralistic and opinionated with a feisty demeanour.

Perceptive and astute, Aerwyn prides herself on her intuition. Her signature gaze has a revealing quality, uncovering secrets and withheld personality traits. She listens to her gut, which has rarely lead her astray, and leads with her heart. Ironically, the maternal qualities her parents so desperately tried to induce within her have emerged tenfold as a Royal Mage. She is kind. Fair. Her moral compass is well-centred and not easily swayed.

All the qualities that ostracised her as a young girl are her strengths as a Royal Mage.</sub>

◊ ơ℘ɛŋ ɬơ ʄཞıɛŋɖʂɧı℘: 3 ◊

◊ ơ℘ɛŋ ɬơ ཞơɱąŋƈɛ: 4 ◊

◊ _{Her commitment to the Crown and the duties of a Royal Mage make Aerwyn a tough nut to crack, initially. She will feign indifference to friendship and romance but, in her heart, Aerwyn craves to see and be seen. A life of service is lonely and she doesn’t see why she should spend her life alone when the Kunlun way is for her to do the exact opposite. But she wants it on her terms.} ◊

◊ Aρρҽαɾαɳƈҽ ◊

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ꜱᴜᴍᴍᴏɴꜱ - ᴛʜᴇ ᴜɴᴛᴏʟᴅ ꜱᴛᴏʀʏ ᴏꜰ ᴍᴀɢᴇꜱ [ ᴍᴀɢɪᴄ, ᴍᴜᴛɪɴʏ, ᴍᴜʀᴅᴇʀ ]

@Mr Irony II

Thanks so much for your interest. Send over a CS submission to my PMs! I’ve got a few players interested so if you want to secure a spot, send me your CS ^^

Austin Is Dead

@Auragreedia

Yeah agreed, we’ll recognise eachother from high school for sure! Though we might not have run in the same circles, we’d definitely know of eachother.

@LanaStorm

Jax would probably already be in town, but if anyone wants to interact with Jax early on, they can have car troubles and bring in their car to his family's shop!

@h8k8m8

Summer is also going to already be in town as she hasn’t quite moved to the city just yet… Unless the funeral is taking place at a location that needs to be driven to? Then she could pop into the shop for a flat or something?