VitoftheVoid

The Runes (In Need of Players!)

And the counterpart varg!

Skoll

Full Name: Skoll Hróðvitnisson

Nicknames/Aliases: Mooneater, Moonhound, Mangarmr, Cyrus (human alias),

Age: Unknown, human form appears round twenty-one years of age.

Gender: Male




Description:
In varg form, Skoll resembles a wolf the size of a small horse, with black fur. Unusual for its kind, the wolf's eyes glow a fiery red colour, matching similarly illuminated marks on its face and forehead. The wolf's canine teeth are elongated and appears deeper chested and more wide-shouldered than a mortal world wolf.

In human for Skoll resembles a young man in his early twenties, with black hair that reaches past his jaw. He's a bit on the tall side, somwhat athletic in build, though it's generally concealed by a t-shirt and a heavy jacket. He tends to wear gloves and boots and often seems to sport a rather severe expression.


Personality:
Skoll is known for being, at best, kinda serious. The young varg is surly, and humorless, tending to alienate most people he encounters.

Neither him nor his sister have the greatest respect for convention, and Skoll is a law unto himself in many ways. Fortunately, they have the sense not to push their boundaries too far, but he tends to have the sense not to take on things he's sure he can't handle.

Skoll possesses a great dela of resentment towards humans and The Blessed, feeling quite strongly that the state of the Ironwood is their responsibility.

Skoll's relationship with his sister can be a little strained. Hati tends to make a sport out of trying to wind her brother up, and they seem to communicate mostly in insults.

Whilst they bicker almost constantly, Skoll is extremely protective of his sister, and has both the attitude, and the necessary skills to threaten swift and terrible retribution to anyone who might hurt her, something she seems to regard as more an annoyance than any kind of protection from the world. The two are, despite this, very close and tend to know exactly what one another is thinking.



Skills: Shapeshifting - Something common to her kind, Skoll is able to alter his shape, from wolf, to human, and back again. This allows him to walk among humans, at least to some degree. His wolf form is considerably larger in size, which will give him an edge in more dangerous situations. Injuries sustained in one form transfer to the other.

Cold Resistance - The chaser of the frigid moon, Skoll has no problem with frost.

Howl of the Ginnungagap - Both Skoll and Hati have howls with an insidious ability drawn from the void. Anyone in earshot of the howl will lose magical ability until sunrise, in Skoll's case, sunset, for Hati. As such, it will only work at night for the former, and day for the latter.


Weaknesses:

Stubborn Independence - Skoll does not enjoy asking for help, this can often cause him problems as he's unlikely to admit when things go wrong.

Daybreak - Skoll's howl ability has no power during the hours of daylight, and dispells with the rising of the run.



Brief History: Skoll was born in the Ironwood. Jotun country. The wasteland beyond human habitation where jotun and varg dwell. Resources were scarce and most creatures struggled to survive in the harsh environment. Prey was scarce and the pack they were born into were permanently half-starved. Sometimes they pushed out towards human territory in order to raid farms, but often incurred severe losses when doing so.

This miserable life seemed to change for the Ironwood pack however when their alpha female bore two extraordinary cubs. One black, one white, bearing the marks of the celestial wargs, the wolves who would eat the sun and the moon. Skoll and Hati. The pack rejoiced despite their grim circumstances, to have been blessed with such a fortune as to bring forth two of the key players of Ragnarok. The two cubs received anything they needed as they grew. The first bites of any kill, the warmest spots in the Winter, the very centre of the circle when danger appeared.

Whilst his sister was keen to run from the weight of expectation, Skoll took the cause upon himself to a great degree. He didn't regard himself as a cause of misery for his pack, nor his sister, the other varg saw them as some symbol of hope... but he did see humans are the cause of misery. The ones who killed his kin and forced them out into the arid land whilst they hoarded their fat cattle and pigs. He set out on his journey too, but with more focus than the sunhound. He would hunt Mani, but he had other plans first.

The Runes (In Need of Players!)

Hati

Full Name: Hati Hróðvitnisdottir

Nicknames/Aliases: Suneater, Dinah (Her human alias.)

Age: Unknown, human form appears round nineteen years of age.

Gender: Female

Species: Varg



Description: As a varg, Hati resembles a white wolf about the size of a pony. Like most varg, the wolf displays very elongated canine teeth and a more top-heavy build compared to a wolf, though as vargs go Hati is rather gangly and skinny in build. Unlike other vargs, Hati possesses peculiar glowing eyes, as bright blue as a clear sky that seem to glow with internal light. This is matched by similarly illuminated markings on her face. These mark her out as one of the two celestial varg, the Suneater and Mooneater.

As human Hati appears to be a young woman in her late teens, tall and athletic in build, with freckly skin and long white hair, generally roped into an untidy plait and often sporting a few leaves. Being not of human background she tends to display a rather laissez-faire attitude to clothing, wandering round in whatever she can find and rarely wearing shoes.


Personality: Whilst spending plenty of time in human form, Hati always has something of the feral about her. Hailing from the Ironwood, she has adjusted very little to human society and rather struggles not to stand out during her forays. She had no concept of manners or formality. She eats pretty much everything with her hands...unless it's soup, then she'll just lift it up and drink it right out of the bowl. She sees no problem with skinning game on someone's dining table or presenting people with dead rabbits as a thoughtful gift.

Despite her dark and apocalyptic destiny, Hati appears to be something of a slacker. She has little interest in her duties of hunting Sol, something that's attracted the ire of Devourers in the past. Hati would rather be doing hat she wants to do than chasing up a volva's prophecy.

This doesn't necessarily make her entirely amicable though, as Hati has a fair level of distrust of humans. Fenrir's confinement is no secret to her, and she's long come to associate humans with a hatred of her kind. As such whilst she'd rather not rain destruction on the children of Ask and Embla, she'd also not going to be cowed by them.


Skills: - Shapeshifting - Something common to her kind, Hati is able to alter her shape, from wolf, to human, and back again. This allows her to walk among humans, at least to some degree. Her wolf form is considerably larger in size, which will give her an edge in more dangerous situations. Injuries sustained in one form transfer to the other.

Natural Hunter - Hati was born to hunt Sol, and as such she is a flawless tracker. Once she has a person's scent, she can follow it anywhere and bypass any attempts to conceal it. In a similar vein, Hati's stamina is quite astounding. Other things might run faster that her, but few can run for longer. She can similarly withstand a lot of damage.

Heat Resistance - Hati eats the sun. As such fire hold no fear for her.

Weaknesses:

- Slacker A tearaway with little sense of discipline, Hati is a slacker with little drive or direction, and doesn't tend to apply herself.

- Wolfish Sensibilities - Hati struggles to fit in with human society.


Brief History:

Hati was born in the Ironwood. Jotun country. The wasteland beyond human habitation where jotun and varg dwell. Resources were scarce and most creatures struggled to survive in the harsh environment. Prey was scarce and the pack they were born into were permanently half-starved. Sometimes they pushed out towards human territory in order to raid farms, but often incurred severe losses when doing so.

This miserable life seemed to change for the Ironwood pack however when their alpha female bore two extraordinary cubs. One black, one white, bearing the marks of the celestial wargs, the wolves who would eat the sun and the moon. Skoll and Hati. The pack rejoiced despite thier grim circumstances, to have been blessed with such a fortune as to bring forth two of the key players of Ragnarok. The two cubs received anything they needed as they grew. The first bites of any kill, the warmest spots in the Winter, the very centre of the circle when danger appeared.

During her early years, Hati thought little of this, enjoying her feeling of importance and relative privilege. As she got older however, the state of things began to disturb her. Vargs sickened, starved, died in risky forays into human country whilst she and her brother didn't want for anything. The look of hope and expectation in the eyes of her family and peers begun to evoke more fear and uncertainty in Hati and anything else. They all anticipated they day she would set out on her quest and make them proud.

So one day, she did.

The downside was she had neither any idea how, nor inclination to, hunt Sol. Instead she found herself trying to eek out a living by herself...something that proved to be about as difficult as she thought it would be.

But at least she'd escaped the expectations.

The Runes (In Need of Players!)

Isa Rune

Full Name: Oren Dariya Kovalenko

Nicknames/Aliases:

Age: 22

Gender: Female
Rune/Location: Isa - Between her shoulder blades.

Rune Powers: Control and manifestation of ice. Ability to drop body temperature to extreme lows and survive in extremely low temperatures.

Description: Oren stands at about 5'7, an angular-looking woman with long, blue-black hair, grey eyes. She has high, noticeable cheekbones and a naturally pale complexion.

She often wears black fingerless gloves, a long-sleeved top, coat and scarf even when indoors. She often dons black eyeliner but otherwise doesn't seem to worry too much about make-up.


Personality: Ice. Cold. Static. Unyielding.

Oren is, perhaps not the easiest person to get along with. She has had little opportunity in her life to make friends and develop socially with other people, and her experiences have given her a considerable level of drive to tackle world-eater creatures. As such she can come across as rather disinterested in other things. This is also combined with a general lack of concern for the feelings of others that often makes her rather insensitive. Indeed her general lack of emotion can sometimes unnerve people.

She has absolutely no problem with dismissing people's opinions or insulting people, as she tends to have he mind on tasks at hand rather than necessarily anyone else's immediate wellbeing. In addition she's gotten rather used to being the only active rune around the organization...and whilst she's quite focused she's also not necessarily used Isa fairly or compassionately. She is not above freezing people's car keys in ice for infractions against her or her property.


Skills: -Very high IQ and eidetic memory mean Oren has a great mind for facts and calculations. This is something she factors into how she works.

-Having possessed Isa for nearly five years, Oren had pretty unrivalled control and finesse with her ability. She has learned to use it adaptively and in a broad swathe of situations. She is able to work in complete harmony with the rune most of the time.

Weaknesses: -Oren cannot materialize ice or water in very dry air, meaning she will struggle round widespread fire or in very low humidity.

-She's had somewhat limited exposure to the outside world and this affects how she interacts with people socially.


Brief History:

Oren was brought up in one of the many small, fortified towns out beyond the city borders. Illegitimate, and raised by a father who resented the task, she had little affection to anticipate in her life. Educated at home to an achingly high standard, Oren's intellect bloomed from an early age, though possibly more out of fear or reprisal than out of a genuine love for learning. Her only notable relative cast a dark shadow over her life, one of fear and doubt.

As she grew older this changed tack. Even as her father lost interest in trying to catch his unwanted child out with harder material, Oren did her best to acquire it. She had realized that her intellect could be a key to escaping a life of drudgery and being free of a controlling patriarch and a town nobody went to.

Certainly she got free of those. But not in the way she expected.

One night, with her father away, Oren was awoken to a noise like no other. The roar of a jotun. Then and impact that shook the building to its foundations. She ran to the window to see a sight that people had come to dread. The defensive wall had been breached and a jotun warband was pouring in through the gap, towering over the houses.

In that moment she was certain that every single person in that town was going to die.

What passed in the following hours, only Oren could really be sure of, and even then it leaves some room for uncertainty.

Several days later a consignment of scouting troops from The Blessed arrived at the ruined town in effort to try and track the Jotun back to a camp or hideout. as they picked through the battered wreckage they saw something...unlike anything they'd come across before. A dead jotnar, sprawled over a great spike of razor-sharp ice. Frozen in the centre of the ice was a dark-haired girl, and the rip in the back of her clothes revealed the shape of the Isa rune, glowing pale blue against her skin.

Upon breaking the ice they discovered Oren not only alive, but seemingly with no lasting health problems from days spent encased in frost. It was something they could only describe as the work of the gods themselves.

And from there, Oren became the first active rune.

In subsequent years she would try and work out why it as that Isa became active so early. What she concluded was that the giant had been wounded on attacking her and Jotun blood acted as some sort of catalyst. The blood of a frost giant breathed life into the rune of ice. That it was more a freak accident than heavenly predestination... but it was hard to say.

Oren spent the next five years with The Blessed. She had no real choice, but she also displayed no active wish to leave. Her position gave her life meaning that it had lacked, and her powers gave he an endless source of research material to test out her keen mind upon. She spent the years developing and broadening the utility of her powers, as well as carrying out extensive research on the world-eaters, out of a desire never to be caught unprepared again. She awaited the others arriving, eager, as much as Oren ever was eager, to begin her destiny.

Hati

Full Name: Hati Hróðvitnisdottir

Nicknames/Aliases: Suneater, Dinah (Her human alias.)

Age: Unknown, human form appears round nineteen years of age.

Gender: Female

Species: Varg



Description: As a varg, Hati resembles a white wolf about the size of a pony. Like most varg, the wolf displays very elongated canine teeth and a more top-heavy build compared to a wolf, though as vargs go Hati is rather gangly and skinny in build. Unlike other vargs, Hati possesses peculiar glowing eyes, as bright blue as a clear sky that seem to glow with internal light. This is matched by similarly illuminated markings on her face. These mark her out as one of the two celestial varg, the Suneater and Mooneater.

As human Hati appears to be a young woman in her late teens, tall and athletic in build, with freckly skin and long white hair, generally roped into an untidy plait and often sporting a few leaves. Being not of human background she tends to display a rather laissez-faire attitude to clothing, wandering round in whatever she can find and rarely wearing shoes.


Personality: Whilst spending plenty of time in human form, Hati always has something of the feral about her. Hailing from the Ironwood, she has adjusted very little to human society and rather struggles not to stand out during her forays. She had no concept of manners or formality. She eats pretty much everything with her hands...unless it's soup, then she'll just lift it up and drink it right out of the bowl. She sees no problem with skinning game on someone's dining table or presenting people with dead rabbits as a thoughtful gift.

Despite her dark and apocalyptic destiny, Hati appears to be something of a slacker. She has little interest in her duties of hunting Sol, something that's attracted the ire of Devourers in the past. Hati would rather be doing hat she wants to do than chasing up a volva's prophecy.

This doesn't necessarily make her entirely amicable though, as Hati has a fair level of distrust of humans. Fenrir's confinement is no secret to her, and she's long come to associate humans with a hatred of her kind. As such whilst she'd rather not rain destruction on the children of Ask and Embla, she'd also not going to be cowed by them.


Skills: - Shapeshifting - Something common to her kind, Hati is able to alter her shape, from wolf, to human, and back again. This allows her to walk among humans, at least to some degree. Her wolf form is considerably larger in size, which will give her an edge in more dangerous situations. Injuries sustained in one form transfer to the other.

Natural Hunter - Hati was born to hunt Sol, and as such she is a flawless tracker. Once she has a person's scent, she can follow it anywhere and bypass any attempts to conceal it. In a similar vein, Hati's stamina is quite astounding. Other things might run faster that her, but few can run for longer. She can similarly withstand a lot of damage.

Heat Resistance - Hati eats the sun. As such fire hold no fear for her.

Weaknesses:

- Slacker A tearaway with little sense of discipline, Hati is a slacker with little drive or direction, and doesn't tend to apply herself.

- Wolfish Sensibilities - Hati struggles to fit in with human society.


Brief History:

Hati was born in the Ironwood. Jotun country. The wasteland beyond human habitation where jotun and varg dwell. Resources were scarce and most creatures struggled to survive in the harsh environment. Prey was scarce and the pack they were born into were permanently half-starved. Sometimes they pushed out towards human territory in order to raid farms, but often incurred severe losses when doing so.

This miserable life seemed to change for the Ironwood pack however when their alpha female bore two extraordinary cubs. One black, one white, bearing the marks of the celestial wargs, the wolves who would eat the sun and the moon. Skoll and Hati. The pack rejoiced despite thier grim circumstances, to have been blessed with such a fortune as to bring forth two of the key players of Ragnarok. The two cubs received anything they needed as they grew. The first bites of any kill, the warmest spots in the Winter, the very centre of the circle when danger appeared.

During her early years, Hati thought little of this, enjoying her feeling of importance and relative privilege. As she got older however, the state of things began to disturb her. Vargs sickened, starved, died in risky forays into human country whilst she and her brother didn't want for anything. The look of hope and expectation in the eyes of her family and peers begun to evoke more fear and uncertainty in Hati and anything else. They all anticipated they day she would set out on her quest and make them proud.

So one day, she did.

The downside was she had neither any idea how, nor inclination to, hunt Sol. Instead she found herself trying to eek out a living by herself...something that proved to be about as difficult as she thought it would be.

But at least she'd escaped the expectations.

Skoll

Full Name: Skoll Hróðvitnisson

Nicknames/Aliases: Mooneater, Moonhound, Mangarmr, Cyrus (human alias),

Age: Unknown, human form appears round twenty-one years of age.

Gender: Male




Description:
In varg form, Skoll resembles a wolf the size of a small horse, with black fur. Unusual for its kind, the wolf's eyes glow a fiery red colour, matching similarly illuminated marks on its face and forehead. The wolf's canine teeth are elongated and appears deeper chested and more wide-shouldered than a mortal world wolf.

In human for Skoll resembles a young man in his early twenties, with black hair that reaches past his jaw. He's a bit on the tall side, somwhat athletic in build, though it's generally concealed by a t-shirt and a heavy jacket. He tends to wear gloves and boots and often seems to sport a rather severe expression.


Personality:
Skoll is known for being, at best, kinda serious. The young varg is surly, and humorless, tending to alienate most people he encounters.

Neither him nor his sister have the greatest respect for convention, and Skoll is a law unto himself in many ways. Fortunately, they have the sense not to push their boundaries too far, but he tends to have the sense not to take on things he's sure he can't handle.

Skoll possesses a great dela of resentment towards humans and The Blessed, feeling quite strongly that the state of the Ironwood is their responsibility.

Skoll's relationship with his sister can be a little strained. Hati tends to make a sport out of trying to wind her brother up, and they seem to communicate mostly in insults.

Whilst they bicker almost constantly, Skoll is extremely protective of his sister, and has both the attitude, and the necessary skills to threaten swift and terrible retribution to anyone who might hurt her, something she seems to regard as more an annoyance than any kind of protection from the world. The two are, despite this, very close and tend to know exactly what one another is thinking.



Skills: Shapeshifting - Something common to her kind, Skoll is able to alter his shape, from wolf, to human, and back again. This allows him to walk among humans, at least to some degree. His wolf form is considerably larger in size, which will give him an edge in more dangerous situations. Injuries sustained in one form transfer to the other.

Cold Resistance - The chaser of the frigid moon, Skoll has no problem with frost.

Howl of the Ginnungagap - Both Skoll and Hati have howls with an insidious ability drawn from the void. Anyone in earshot of the howl will lose magical ability until sunrise, in Skoll's case, sunset, for Hati. As such, it will only work at night for the former, and day for the latter.


Weaknesses:

Stubborn Independence - Skoll does not enjoy asking for help, this can often cause him problems as he's unlikely to admit when things go wrong.

Daybreak - Skoll's howl ability has no power during the hours of daylight, and dispells with the rising of the run.


Brief History: Skoll was born in the Ironwood. Jotun country. The wasteland beyond human habitation where jotun and varg dwell. Resources were scarce and most creatures struggled to survive in the harsh environment. Prey was scarce and the pack they were born into were permanently half-starved. Sometimes they pushed out towards human territory in order to raid farms, but often incurred severe losses when doing so.

This miserable life seemed to change for the Ironwood pack however when their alpha female bore two extraordinary cubs. One black, one white, bearing the marks of the celestial wargs, the wolves who would eat the sun and the moon. Skoll and Hati. The pack rejoiced despite their grim circumstances, to have been blessed with such a fortune as to bring forth two of the key players of Ragnarok. The two cubs received anything they needed as they grew. The first bites of any kill, the warmest spots in the Winter, the very centre of the circle when danger appeared.

Whilst his sister was keen to run from the weight of expectation, Skoll took the cause upon himself to a great degree. He didn't regard himself as a cause of misery for his pack, nor his sister, the other varg saw them as some symbol of hope... but he did see humans are the cause of misery. The ones who killed his kin and forced them out into the arid land whilst they hoarded their fat cattle and pigs. He set out on his journey too, but with more focus than the sunhound. He would hunt Mani, but he had other plans first.

Helena Kingsley

Full Name: Helena Alys Kingsley

Nicknames/Aliases: Sweater Girl, Ginger, Hel, Space Cadet

Age: 21

Gender: Female

Occupation: The Blessed, Junior Office Staff.

Description: Helena is not a terribly imposing creature, topping out at out an unintimidating 5'2. Her build is slim, with light curves on the hips and chest rather than any defined muscle and her face is heart-shaped and girlish, with a set of wide, blue-grey eyes.She has a mop of untidy, red hair, which falls for her lower back. She has very pale skin that is quite prone to burning. She has a notable scar on the one side of her face, neck and shoulder.

People often pick Helena out on her somewhat..idiosyncratic sense of fashion. Her outfit tends to frequently consist of skirt, leggings, sheepskin boots, and some of the most hideous sweaters known to mankind, hewn in rainbow colours and emblazoned with animal designs. All are at least two sizes too big. She's rarely seen without one on.

Personality: Helena is a rather peculiar young woman. Socially awkward and rather absent-minded, she often seems to be going about he day oblivious of things going on around her. She appears to have a tendency to daydream and forget what she's doing. She's also rather disorganised both externally and internally, quite capable of forgetting her duties or running late

Helena is fairly shy, and whilst this certainly doesn't put her beyond attempts to make friends, this is quite easily shot down. SHe seems to have a few issues with her own self-esteem.


Skills: -Photocopying, making coffee, getting people's lunch orders right at least half of the time, paints and draws relatively well.

Weaknesses: - No combat experience or training.
-Absent-minded, inattentive, and maybe not amazingly good at her job.



Brief History: Helena has been working for the Blessed for a little while, in a relatively junior position, doing jobs around the place. She'd grown up with frequently absent family, and had gotten rather used to being alone, so adjusting to the environment was a little bit of a culture shock...the liveliness moreso than the strange happenings.

It soon proved that Helena was, perhaps, not the most adept at her job, but the Blessed were very unwilling to dispense of her. For all her mistakes she's yet to receive any serious consequences short of being reprimanded, and has given a few staff reason to assume she must be related to someone high up in the organization and must be being kept on due to some familial ties. There certainly has to be something going on.

The Runes (In Need of Players!)

And here she is!

Isa Rune

Full Name: Oren Dariya Kovalenko

Nicknames/Aliases:

Age: 22

Gender: Female

Rune/Location: Isa - Between her shoulder blades.

Rune Powers: Control and manifestation of ice. Ability to drop body temperature to extreme lows and survive in extremely low temperatures.

Description: Oren stands at about 5'7, an angular-looking woman with long, blue-black hair, grey eyes. She has high, noticeable cheekbones and a naturally pale complexion.

She often wears black fingerless gloves, a long-sleeved top, coat and scarf even when indoors. She often dons black eyeliner but otherwise doesn't seem to worry too much about make-up.


Personality: Ice. Cold. Static. Unyielding.

Oren is, perhaps not the easiest person to get along with. She has had little opportunity in her life to make friends and develop socially with other people, and her experiences have given her a considerable level of drive to tackle world-eater creatures. As such she can come across as rather disinterested in other things. This is also combined with a general lack of concern for the feelings of others that often makes her rather insensitive. Indeed her general lack of emotion can sometimes unnerve people.

She has absolutely no problem with dismissing people's opinions or insulting people, as she tends to have he mind on tasks at hand rather than necessarily anyone else's immediate wellbeing. In addition she's gotten rather used to being the only active rune around the organization...and whilst she's quite focused she's also not necessarily used Isa fairly or compassionately. She is not above freezing people's car keys in ice for infractions against her or her property.


Skills: -Very high IQ and eidetic memory mean Oren has a great mind for facts and calculations. This is something she factors into how she works.

-Having possessed Isa for nearly five years, Oren had pretty unrivalled control and finesse with her ability. She has learned to use it adaptively and in a broad swathe of situations. She is able to work in complete harmony with the rune most of the time.

Weaknesses: -Oren cannot materialize ice or water in very dry air, meaning she will struggle round widespread fire or in very low humidity.

-She's had somewhat limited exposure to the outside world and this affects how she interacts with people socially.


Brief History:

Oren was brought up in one of the many small, fortified towns out beyond the city borders. Illegitimate, and raised by a father who resented the task, she had little affection to anticipate in her life. Educated at home to an achingly high standard, Oren's intellect bloomed from an early age, though possibly more out of fear or reprisal than out of a genuine love for learning. Her only notable relative cast a dark shadow over her life, one of fear and doubt.

As she grew older this changed tack. Even as her father lost interest in trying to catch his unwanted child out with harder material, Oren did her best to acquire it. She had realized that her intellect could be a key to escaping a life of drudgery and being free of a controlling patriarch and a town nobody went to.

Certainly she got free of those. But not in the way she expected.

One night, with her father away, Oren was awoken to a noise like no other. The roar of a jotun. Then and impact that shook the building to its foundations. She ran to the window to see a sight that people had come to dread. The defensive wall had been breached and a jotun warband was pouring in through the gap, towering over the houses.

In that moment she was certain that every single person in that town was going to die.

What passed in the following hours, only Oren could really be sure of, and even then it leaves some room for uncertainty.

Several days later a consignment of scouting troops from The Blessed arrived at the ruined town in effort to try and track the Jotun back to a camp or hideout. as they picked through the battered wreckage they saw something...unlike anything they'd come across before. A dead jotnar, sprawled over a great spike of razor-sharp ice. Frozen in the centre of the ice was a dark-haired girl, and the rip in the back of her clothes revealed the shape of the Isa rune, glowing pale blue against her skin.

Upon breaking the ice they discovered Oren not only alive, but seemingly with no lasting health problems from days spent encased in frost. It was something they could only describe as the work of the gods themselves.

And from there, Oren became the first active rune.

In subsequent years she would try and work out why it as that Isa became active so early. What she concluded was that the giant had been wounded on attacking her and Jotun blood acted as some sort of catalyst. The blood of a frost giant breathed life into the rune of ice. That it was more a freak accident than heavenly predestination... but it was hard to say.

Oren spent the next five years with The Blessed. She had no real choice, but she also displayed no active wish to leave. Her position gave her life meaning that it had lacked, and her powers gave he an endless source of research material to test out her keen mind upon. She spent the years developing and broadening the utility of her powers, as well as carrying out extensive research on the world-eaters, out of a desire never to be caught unprepared again. She awaited the others arriving, eager, as much as Oren ever was eager, to begin her destiny.

Lost Lands - A Medieval Fantasy RP

@VitoftheVoid I feel like a jerk, but I'm gonna have to drop this thread. I don't think I can be very active in it. If anyone wants to take my characters/the plotline or basis for them, that's totally fine. :3

Again, really sorry.

@1Hawkeyes

No worries. :) Thanks for letting me know.

Lost Lands - A Medieval Fantasy RP

@Artymis Hi there!
Still open but I'm probably gonna start cutting it off kinda soonish. (Was a lil bit unprepared for the level of interest this would attract, haha).

What have you got in mind?

Lost Lands - A Medieval Fantasy RP

@Komager@The Angry Goat Both approved! :)

Lost Lands - A Medieval Fantasy RP

Battlemage Second-Class Adella Darr was not having a very pleasant morning.

Being informed that one of the usual patrol had been taken ill with a fever and that prison duty had passed on to you was never a good way to be awoken, especially if you had had the late watch the night before.

That reason saw the Yulian in a less than chipper mood as she stepped out of the driving rain and descended the steps to the dungeons.

Small, plain-looking, coat and mantle indicating a second-class magus. The kind trained for combat. She stood up to her full (somewhat unimpressive) height and carried herself in a manner that implied she felt above waiting round in this grim place.

Mage Adella adjusted her mantle, the silver feathers glittering in the guttering torchlight. The dungeons were inevitably disgusting and she was never exactly keen on venturing down there unless expressly ordered, however needs must. You had to sometimes demean yourself a little in order to reach new heights.

This, she decided, would definitely be the year she achieved her promotion to first class. And if it involved being the watchdog to the filthy degenerates of Midgate prison, then so be it.

The dungeons were extensive. Shortly after the end of the wall the Yulians had shipped a large consignment of Pradian prisoners to extend the old store-rooms of the fort out underneath the town. It was easy to get lost if you did not know your way around. Fortunately, Adella did. The armed guard at the entrance saluted, an she returned the gesture, before stepping into the dungeons proper.

The air was cold, and damp. For some cells, gratings ran across their edging with glimpses of the yard above. This gave their unwilling residents view of the sky, though also meant that the storm was currently draining into their quarters in full force, leaving them stnding or sitting in pools of water.

Her particular area of expertise were not these places though.

The prison was not sparsely populated, even aside from the prisoners. Soldiers patrolled from time to time. Jailers made their rounds. From time to time staff from the Inqusition could be glimpsed in their black uniforms, flittering about like shadows, their presence causing many of the wretches inhabiting the place to shrink away. There was no lack of understanding of the fear the Yulian Inquisition brought with them, and what terrible things lurked in their domain, behind locked doors.

Adella wasn't naive enough not to know what they did.

It was for the greater good though, the young woman told herself.
Sometimes you had to scorch the brush to grow something anew.
It was not an easy task, nor a pretty one, but it was necessary.

The role of mages such as herself was a very particular one. At the end of the hallway, down a second flight of steps, the furthest away from light and weather, was the part of the prison reserved for the magical heretics. Degenerates who had still received the gift of magic were one of the most dangerous things they'd encountered, and needed to be dealt with with a certain level of caution. The place still had its guards, but it also required a mage in place at all times.

Whilst most prisoners were sufficiently debilitated by the potions added to their water to be too much of a threat, there was always chance that one might attempt to escape. That was where mages came in.

Adella strode up to where the aster on the previous shift was stood. Upon catching sight of her replacement, the woman gave a brisk nod and left without a word. From there Mage Darr, stood, and for a moment, closed her eyes in concentration. When she opened them again, the once brown irises were glowing a luminous blue.

Magesight was a secret weapon to dealing with the treacherous prisoners. Like a viper sensed heat, so one of their class could sense the tiniest hint of magical energy. One slight sign of a casting and she would know it.

With that, Mage Darr started to walk. Better to get a look at these wretches early to know what she'd be up against.

Lost Lands - A Medieval Fantasy RP

Okay here's my idea. This is sort of a nomadic faction of magic users. They are called Ravenites because they are descendants of the followers of the Crow Queen, a semi-legendary villain in Yulian history who rebelled against the customs long ago and was subsequently exiled. Ravenites are fundamentally animist. They worship Gods and forest spirits, and usually dedicate themselves to the study of the mysteries of the world and magic. Unlike legitimate Yulians, they do not discriminate genders. Talented users are called either Witches or Warlocks, depending on the gender. In recent history their numbers have dwindled because the lands and roads becoming inhabitable as well as several high-profile Ravenites siding with Miriand, Pradus and Alessa as magically-capable auxiliary forces. Ravenites are hunted by the Inquisition actively.

Liliwen

Full Name: Liliwen

Nicknames/Aliases:Sparrow

Age:20

Gender:Female

Occupation/Class: Ravenite Witch

Kingdom of Origin:Nomadic (Yulian exiles).

Description: Liliwen is rather slim and average heighted woman with a thin waist and shapely hips. She posseses waist-long chestnut hair, fair skin and haunting golden eyes. Liliwen usually is demure in her manners and gentle in her voice, although her angered stare is quite penetrant. During her stay in prison, part of her usual beatiful frames have been wasting away under the roughness of her caretakers, although she hasn't been excessively marred.
Equipment: Prison Rags

Personality: Liliwen is a bleeding heart. She is extremely empathic towards the suffering and ailments of others, and usually interrupts whatever she is doing to help someone in need. Her attitude is fairly straightforward and serious, although she often relishes in naive pleasures such as sweet foodstuffs or playing with cute creatures. Calm in her demeanor, she rarely feels the need to exert ill will on other people. However, Liliwen is still a disciple of the Crow Queen and a Witch in her own, and as such she has an untamed desire to experiment and conquer the mysteries of universe, as well as an iron-bound ethic of "Live and let live". She is openly worried about the state of the world, and wishe that Yulia and others just stopped fighting and tried to work together to stop the rot of the world and survive.

Skills:
Magic: As a Witch, Liliwen is quite adept at recreating spells with mystical energies. Ravenites are often specialized in supporting enchantments as well as utility magic, but Liliwen has also a good array of offensive elemental spells. Most of her magic is often nature themed, however. Holding the title of Witch to signify her good proficience, she can hold her own in combat against battle-mages if need be.
Attunement: Having spent her entire life trying to unravel the mysteries of life and becoming one with with the world, Liliwen is often sensible to the subtle changes in atmosphere that many humans can't perceive. She has a sixth sense that may sometimes predict when an area is becoming too dangerous, as well as noticing nearby magic being cast nearby.
Scholar: Liliwen is versed in many subjects of study, as well as the hidden History of the world. She can assimilate complicated intellectual matters and books rather easily, as well as knowing snippets of other languages.
Quarterstaff training: Like all nomads, she can use a staff to defend herself.
Weaknesses:(Achilles' Heels that can be exploited by enemies.)
Magic Drain: Magic is not a toy. It has tons of drawbacks. And any magic user has to suffer the price for it.
Attunement Backslash: If the area is too dangerous or diseased, Liliwen can even become sick or impaired.
Ravenite Reputation: The Ravenites of Yulia do not have a good reputation anywhere. Pursued by the Inquisition and reviled as heretics, people would rather flee than associate themselves with them.
Fatal Flaw:
Naive: Liliwen cannot but see the inherent good on people. This has bitten her in the back quite a few times.

[Brief History:
Liliwen was born as a nomad, an exile of the followers of the Crow Queen, the ravenites. Political exiles from Yulia, their pursuit of the arcane arts and open nature was subject to persecution and hostigating from the kingdom. The situation deteriorated when their former nation invaded other three and made things untenable. The Ravenites were forced to go to war for survival, the habitable lands diminishing and the Inquisition encroaching. Liliwen bitterly remembers to this day how her father, a prodigious warlock, never came back from that war, having being slaing by battlemages.

But, violence would only breed violence. With a sad heart, the young magic user dedicated to her tasks, developing her arts and going from country to country, the Inquisition always on their heels. Even so she persevered, her talents recognized by her peers by bestowing her the title of Witch at age 17, one of the youngest ever made. Life was hard, but it was bearable. She even managed to enjoy the pleasures of having a boyfriend.

Until he ratted her out to the Inquisition. Liliwen... was furious. Lightning and fire was exchanged, but no one died in the end as the enraged Witch soon collapsed into tears, and gave in before hurting someone. Imprisoned by the Inquisition, she now awaits execution...

Other:

@AtomicNut

Looks great! Approved!

Lost Lands - A Medieval Fantasy RP

<Snipped quote by 1Hawkeyes>

@VitoftheVoid Was I accepted? XD

@1Hawkeyes

Yes, apologies. Saw the app appearing when I checked early in the morning and read it over and made a mental note to accept them, and evidently it slipped my mind. They're accepted!