Chivalry: Academy for Future Knights

[Killigrew]

Killigrew submitted a new role play. @Killigrew, please edit this post to include the sign-up information.


Read more about this role play...


NO LONGER ACCEPTING: Dragons


ACCEPTING: Students, Mentors. Any of the 3 orders is great! Also willing to consider people outside the Academy. Gypsies, servants, thieves, and the like may be slow in introducing but can definitely be incorporated at this point.


Please remember: underpowered is always better than overpowered in this RP.


Feel free to be as freely creative with your character as you wish, but for plot-incorporation and relative relevance to the story, please PM me so we can work that out or you can just submit your character and we can move from there!


For students, please try to be as close to the age 16 as possible for your character. You will have just begun jousting practice and have memorized basic swordplay techniques, and have some experience with hunting and are fluent in horsebackriding. (these are only basic guideline, feel free to be an exception, BUT (and this goes for everyone) for everything you're good at, have something you're equally BAD at.)


Character sheet:

Name:


Gender:


Age:


Race:






If Dragon:










Human Form:




Description:




Dragon Form:




Description:




Element: (only ice, fire, or air)





If Human:






Appearance: (include build, weight class)




Relic(if any): (only 1, unless special case. Only ice, fire, or air)






Student or Mentor:






If Mentor:










KNIGHTHOOD:




Weapon:




Secondary Weapon:




Social Class(see hierarchy):




Province(make up a name and description or PM me if youd like further details):




Liege(if any. Only relevant if you are a vassal to a master and don't own your own lay of land. See hierarchy.):




Mount:




Mount Name:




Mount Personality:





If Student: (fill out all that above apply. Most students have personal horses if their parents are rich enough, otherwise they use from the academy’s stables)


Social Class (if dragon, then explain family history/reason why they were chosen):


Family Description:


Personality:


Best trait:


Worst trait:


Soft Spot:


Strengths: (at least 2, 1 personality, 1 physical/combat)


Weaknesses: (Always 1 more than strengths, at least 1 character flaw, at least 1 physical/combat)


Personal History (what affects them):


Drives and motives:

 

[Sgt Grunt]

Character sheet:

Name:

Jakob Von Salzahausen



Gender:

Male



Age:

28



Race:

Human



Appearance:

6'1 and 260 pounds, Jakob has dark brown hair cut close to his head, and full plate armor.







Artiface:

Fire






KNIGHTHOOD:

Templar branch leader.





Weapon:

Single-handed morning star





Secondary Weapon:

Shield





Social Class:

Leader of the Knights of the Holy Sepulchre





Province:

Templar province





Liege(if any):

Templar order leader





Mount:

Black Arabian pure blood





Mount Name:

Kira





Mount Personality:

War horse through and through, and trained to let no one but Jakob handle her.





Social Class :

The Knights of the Holy Sepulchre are a branch off the Templar order, and are considered an elite defensive force for the church. They have a very high standing among those that are pious, and seek only those who can be both knights and priests in equal measure. Known for their zealous demeanor and unwavering loyalty, the Knights of the Holy Sepulchre are a sought after organization by those of the faith.



Family Description:

Jakob's family are mostly centered in the Teutonic order's lands, as he is Germanic in descent and accent. They were of nobility, and detested him not joining with the Teutonic's instead of the Templars.



Personality:

Jakob is pious beyond expectation, seeing himself as one of the few leaders worthy of the gods. He has high standards in those he knights, and gives praise sparingly. It has been said that if Jakob Von Salzahausen compliments you, it comes from the gods themselves. A hard man, not easily moved by threats or force. Has a weakness for helping those in distress, but will not move to save them if it means losing more innocents. He spends most of his time in the academy, leaving others to protect the Holy Sepulchre in his stead while he recruits.



Best trait:

Compassionate



Worst trait:

Pious beyond belief (get it? heh)



Soft Spot:

Innocents or civilians in danger



Strengths:

His strengths are his uncompromising faith, and large physical frame.



Weaknesses:

Is slow moving due to his heavy plate armor he almost never is seen without, and his one tracked mind when it comes to piety. If he feels his faith is threatened, he will react violently.



Personal History:

Jakob grew up amongst the Teutonic order's lands and teachings, making him thoroughly german. He has many of the traits of a Teutonic knight, valuing strength and valor. When he nearly died from a dragon as a child, Jakob grew pious practically overnight. He spent all his days either in the church or in the training field. He joined the Templars and stayed with them for years, but found their faith lacking to his tastes. He confronted the leader of the Templars and sued for a more religiously based branch of the order, more dedicated to the gods. Granted his leadership of the order, Jakob feels a great kinship with the Templar leader and is loyal to them despite his powerful standing.



Drives and motives:

Jakob is driven by both faith and loyalty to his knightly branch, and will follow the Templar leader as zealously as he does the church's orders.

 

[Nozzivix]

Spoiler

Character sheet:


Name: Noz'Onn (prefers to be called Nozz while in human form)


Gender: Male


Age: 135 (Appears 19 in human form.)


Race: Dragon


Human Form:


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Description:Noz'Onn's human form is best described as a Scoundrel. He spent quite a while bouncing between human villages during his people's exile, and as such tailored his human form to fit in the best he could. His skin is caucasian, his face slightly pointed, in truth, the only thing that really marks him out as a dragon is the shock of dark crimson hair atop his head, and his similarly coloured eyes. He stands at about 6 feet tall, and is rather skinny by human standards. Smoke comes from his nostrils when he is deep in thought, and blacker smoke still when he is angry.


Dragon Form:





Description:Noz'Onn's dragon form stands 9 feet tall at the shoulder and at least 25 feet tall when he stands on his hind legs. Two great leathery wings extend from his back, each 25 foot long in their own right. Nozz's scales are the same colour as his human form's hair, and his eyes are the same red. A mischievous smile often dances on his snout, and his scales are flecked with white, with a large concentration of them at the tip of his tail.


Element: fire


Weapon: A Dragonscale Sword made entirely of blue scales, named Hurricane. The blade appears like any other metal, only a deep cerulean and inscribed with Draconic Runes. It was created from the blood and scales of his mother, a Wind Dragon shortly before her death. The runes read "A wind to fuel the fire, a breeze to direct it."


Secondary Weapon: He breathes fire. Does that count?


Social Class:Draconic Wanderer. The moment he hit Drakehood, Noz'Onn took off into the wide world, unwilling to live with his people after the ForeSworn incident. The same incident that had claimed his mother's life. He hid his dragonhood for decades, bouncing between human villages as they grew suspicious of the young man that never seemed to age, and the strange roars and fires they heard at night. Eventually, he returned to Gallace and told his tales, and thanks to his knowledge of human society, was sent to study with them.


Family Description: Noz'Onn was born into a clutch of three eggs, the normal for an expecting Dragon Mother, but yet he was the only one to hatch. The remaining two just never did. It was never discovered why, for centuries they had faced setbacks like this, the price for their Hubris against the humans. Noz'Onn's father had once been a great military commander, and left shortly after his birth. He had been desperate, as all fathers were, that his clutch be perfect, that he receive all three sons. Distraught, he flew for the dead lands, praying that the dragons there had fared better. He never returned.


Personality: Mischievous, a little self-centred and cynical when life gets him down.





Best trait:Quick witted after a century of avoiding detection.


Worst trait:Can be prideful.


Soft Spot:Free Spirits.


Strengths: Isn't very 'Dragonlike' and tends to get along with Humans. Human form is a lot more practiced than the average dragon.


Weaknesses: Gets very frustrated with being kept in one place. Prefers lighter armour than a human would normally use, thanks to his thicker skin. Tends to over judge his human form's strength, being a dragon.


Personal History (what affects them): When Noz'Onn was 13, the ForSworn incident occurred, and the dragons stood to the defence of the humans. The Gallacians were saved, and very few dragons died, except for the ones that mattered. Several Wind Dragons, limited in their ranged attacks, were brought down by the ForSworn. One of these was named Hurricane, at least that's what her name became to the Human tongue. Hurricane was Noz'Onn's mother. As such, she had arranged for an ancient funeral ceremony the night before they attacked. Her body was recovered, her blood, the very essence of her being, drained and her scales forged into pure metal by use of ancient blood magic. There was once a time when every Dragon underwent this, but it became rare, even before the 'Great Slaying', a ritual that would keep a Dragon's spirit alive with those that carried the blade. Protecting them when they were in their weaker human form. Noz'Onn didn't know about this sword for many years, as Hurricane had wished it. For forty years, Noz was raised by the Dragon Elders, taught how to shift forms, and how to fight in each, along with both languages and the History and mathematics of the land.


When he became a Drake, Noz'Onn tried to sneak out of Dragon territory, still bitter that his 'fellows' had allowed his mother to die. He had no direction, but in his mind, all he needed was his wings and his wits. He had reached the border in human form, not wanting to be discovered, but was shocked when Zak'Ri, a close friend of his mother and his guardian for many years, appeared at the edge of the forest, looking sombre and holding a sword. Zak'Ri told Noz'Onn of his mother's decision, and bequeathed him the blade, along with a map of all the nearby human settlements, and ways to blend in. The old man didn't try to stop Noz'Onn, but actually encouraged him to go. Thankful, the young Dragon shifted into his true form and took off into the night at top speed, not wanting the old man to see the tears in his eyes.


Drives and motives: To explore the world and experience new things! And keep himself alive. Self-preservation is key.


Dragony Abilities I didn't see a place for up above:





Partial Transformation: Noz'Onn can partially transform his body between his human and Dragon states. Wings and a small tail prove no problem, but transforming into a proper hybrid is exhausting and difficult to control. He's only done it once, and he was out of commission for several hours afterwards.


Fire Breath: Being in tune with his element, Nozz can breath fire, even in human form, though due to his smaller lungs, it's a lot weaker in this form.

 

[Original Hylion]

Spoiler

Name:





Laurence 'Law' Renovamen





Gender: Male





Age: 20





Race: Human


Appearance: He's stands at a casual 5'8 with a sturdy build and frame, weighing in around 200 pounds.


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Artiface(if any):





Social Class: Baron


Family Description: Just a family born into a higher class. Nothing of great specialty.





Personality: To outsiders, Law may appear to project an aura of "definiteness", of self-confidence. This self-confidence, sometimes mistaken for simple arrogance by the less decisive, is actually of a very specific rather than a general nature; its source lies in the specialized knowledge systems that Law started building at an early age. Law knows what he knows, and perhaps still more importantly, he knows what he doesn't know. He is something of a perfectionists, with a seemingly endless capacity for improving upon anything that takes his interest. What prevents him from becoming chronically bogged down in this pursuit of perfection is the pragmatism so characteristic of the type: Law applies (often ruthlessly) the criterion "Does it work?" to everything from his own research efforts to the prevailing social norms. This in turn produces an unusual independence of mind, freeing him from the constraints of authority, convention, or sentiment for its own sake.


Law is known as the "Systems Builder", perhaps in part because he possesses the unusual trait combination of imagination and reliability. Whatever system he happens to be working on is for him; both perfectionism and disregard for authority may come into play, as he can be unsparing of both himself and the others on the project. Anyone considered to be "slacking," including superiors, will lose his respect -- and will generally be made aware of this; he has also been known to take it upon himself to implement critical decisions without consulting his supervisors or co-workers. On the other hand, he does tend to be scrupulous and even-handed about recognizing the individual contributions that have gone into a project, and have a gift for seizing opportunities which others might not even notice.


Personal relationships, particularly romantic ones, can be the Law's Achilles heel. While he is capable of caring deeply for others (usually a select few), and is willing to spend a great deal of time and effort on a relationship, the knowledge and self-confidence that make him so successful in other areas can suddenly abandon or mislead him in interpersonal situations.


Probably his strongest assets in the interpersonal area are his intuitive abilities and his willingness to "work at" a relationship. Also he has a tendency of synthesizing the probable meanings behind such things as tone of voice, turn of phrase, and facial expression. This ability can then be honed and directed by consistent, repeated efforts to understand and support those he cares about, and those relationships which ultimately do become established with he tends to be characterized by his robustness, stability, and good communications.


Best trait: Can be derived from the personality above. He knows what he knows, and more importantly knows what he does not know.


Worst trait: Same as above. The trait can lead him to misjudge and worry too much over simple situations, or in other words, he's a perfectionist.


Soft Spot: Again, can be derived from above. Personal relationships.


Strengths: Again, from above, he's "calculated." Physically. He is smaller than most but can keep up in general strength, but his actual strength in combat becomes his overcompensation in agility.


Weaknesses: He's smaller than most, so strength wise, he can only keep up. Again, his trait causes a perfectionism within his judgement, causing to make decisions with resilience to other evidence. As well, with his best trait, he will not go out of his way when he believes there is no hope.





Personal History : Law was born in Templar's lands, but was moved to the Teutonic's territory due to land disputes. He only spent a few years as a young man in the Templar's land, so he does not a large amount of Latin. Being raised from from the toddler age in the Teutonic lands helped form some of his ideals, mostly, he adapted the ideal of the battle of the fittest. Something odd though, he preferred mind over matter. Where as most of the Teutonics believed in strength, Law believed in strategy and tactics as better and more valuable traits. As well, he never grew to be a large person, so he had to focus on academics in the stead of strength building. When he came to the knight academy, he began his training in the other knight styles. He found the Lionheart's way of fighting, even though it was with different in weapon style, to be much more useful for his smaller build. The rapier style being much more cautious than the aggressive Teutonic style of constant attack.


Nothing honestly affects him much beyond that besides his mentality of constant improvement. The current events of the world do not bother him much and he cares little for becoming well recognized. For his mentality of improvement, the Teutonic order finds interest in him, and due to his good capability in the Lionheart styles, the Lionhearts consider him, but Law finds no interest in joining either.


Drives and motives: Law has no honest motives that concern anyone besides himself. He finds existence a well enough drive to continue onward as normal.

 

[Killigrew]

Name: Mahl’Iss, tells humans to call her “Mal”


Gender: Female


Age: 107 (human age equivalent: 17)


Race: Dragon


Human Form:


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Description: Blue, catlike eyes that luminesce in dark places. Mal cuts a slim figure, her body unused to food and care. Her skin is worn from the harsh environment of the Death Lands, and she most often carries a tired, weary expression. She’s usually cold to the touch, but when she’s angry, a frigid cold, like ice, expands around her. (Free air-conditioning if you make her mad.)


Dragon Form:


<p><a href="<fileStore.core_Attachment>/monthly_2014_02/icedragon.jpg.8403f446412df4f379448d655e34d43e.jpg" class="ipsAttachLink ipsAttachLink_image"><img data-fileid="13654" src="<fileStore.core_Attachment>/monthly_2014_02/icedragon.jpg.8403f446412df4f379448d655e34d43e.jpg" class="ipsImage ipsImage_thumbnailed" alt=""></a></p>


Description: Spikes line her spine and wings, and a cold breath clouds the air around her. The deadly spike at the end of her tail pierces down from above as she ices the ground before her.


Element: Ice, as you may have guessed


Student


Social Class: She knows little of where she came from. It was for this orphan status that she was chosen; a nobody, and loyal, and willing, she was the perfect fit to test the humans' sincerity.


Family Description: Her parents both died in the dead lands. She knows no other.


Personality: She’s harsh, lacks sympathy, and holds a world-weary disdain for everyone, including herself. She likes to keep everyone at a distance, She has strong morals that she believes no one can ever uphold, that there is no such thing as perfection and that only hypocrites say it’s anything different. She holds everything at an arms-length of disdain, yet follows her own code of conduct; a loyalty to her dying kind, holding herself to her word, and completing everything she sets out to do. She’s cool in a crisis, appreciates strategy and intellect, as well as the like minded.


Best trait: Witty


Worst trait: Disdainful


Soft Spot: Babies (of any species, especially kittens)


Strengths: She’s able to withstand a lot of abuse, and she’s rather good at stabbing things in her dragon form.


Weaknesses: She’s terrible at making friends, she’s quick to despise people, and she’s slow to forgive them, even for an unintentional offense. While in her human form, though she’s stronger and can use magic, she has knows no techniques to strengthen herself beyond this, and is vulnerable. While in her dragon form, she has a kink in her scales below her heart where a human sword, or even arrow could strike through if enough force was applied.


Personal History: Mal was born into the Death Lands, and her family separated from the larger migrant group to find food, or fertile earth, on their own. But they were unsuccessful. The stores of food they’d brought with them from Gallace soon wore thin, and as Mal grew taller and taller, her parents grew closer and closer to death. She was a young Dragonling, they passed away before her eyes, and left all the food to her, instilling her with the need to survive. She flew, frantically, and after a number of days, she found a small community of dragons, and made her home with them. They shared what little food they had, a sense of impending doom always upon them.


A dragon from afar came upon their small community as the stores of food were at their last rations. He attempted to make himself leader over them, he, a stranger, wanting food they did not have. He would not be sent away, and the dragons, starved half to death, killed him and ate him.


That was the first Dragon she’d tasted. But it wasn’t the last. In the Death Lands, cannibalism became more and more commonplace as time wore on, and Mal did what she needed to do to survive. The community torn apart by hunger, dragon turning against dragon, Mal’s heart began to grow sick with the world, and a frigid hate, towards herself and everything else, took root. But it was for her own sake that she flew to Gallace. Unable to find another community of dragons, any natural food source, nor a stray dragon to eat, her only option was to return, starving, to the land that had rejected her kind.


She came upon a land fraught with strife. The ForeSworn war was well under way, and human villages were torn asunder as her species was hunted by these destructive barbarians. Her purpose was clear. Mahl’Iss took the side of her species, fighting alongside humans to protect her own kind. She found some solace in this, though she knew it did nothing to cleanse her of her wrongdoings. Penance of the soul was not so easily paid.


Because she had no one, because she volunteered and because she had shown her loyalty to her kind, she was chosen as one of the three to enter the Knight’s Academy.


Drives and motives: To restore her conscience.<p><a href="<fileStore.core_Attachment>/monthly_2014_02/girldragon.jpg.51a44dd205d87fba9087836640fe0dc9.jpg" class="ipsAttachLink ipsAttachLink_image"><img data-fileid="13655" src="<fileStore.core_Attachment>/monthly_2014_02/girldragon.jpg.51a44dd205d87fba9087836640fe0dc9.jpg" class="ipsImage ipsImage_thumbnailed" alt=""></a></p>

 

[Riddle78]

Spoiler

Name:





Narathzul Arantheal


Sex: Male


Age: 37


Race: Mortal man

He stands six foot four,and many would say that he's built like a dragon; His shoulders are broad,and his limbs are bulked by corded muscles,gifted by birth,and honed through discipline. His hands are also noticeably larger than normal. His hair,although graying,is a light brown,and his eyes are a deep green,like a pine's needles.


His non-combat attire consists of dark blue trousers,tucked into knee-high reinforced and armoured boots,with a white shirt underneath a blue and gold belted jacket. He wears his shortsword openly in this outfit,on his right hip. He also bears a curious ring,which bears the image of a curled,sleeping dragon.

His armour is worn,but not in shambles. As full plate,it offers peerless protection,although it is heavy. He wears a tabard,bearing the image of a roaring dragon.

His longbow is edging into greatbow territory. It's noticeably larger than a longbow for an identically sized man,and as such has a higher draw strength,and the arrow flies faster,harder. When not in use,it's hitched over the shoulder,and he keeps two quivers,one on either leg. One is filled with broadheads,and the other with bodkins.

This shortsword,measuring about two feet in length and weighing three pounds,it is weighted for both slashing and thrusting,perfect for a general purpose weapon. The sturdy construction allows it to be used defensively,as well. When at rest,the sword hangs from his belt. This is the only weapon,aside from his own body,he bears when walking as a civilian.

This kite shield provides more than adequate protection to nearly all that strikes it. Bearing the image of a dragon,it makes his allegiances plain. It has a slight curvature,to make it even more effective at turning blows. It is worn along the arm,rather than across it,and is stowed on his back when not in use.

Narathzul's primary,and favoured weapon,is a zweihander,as long as he is tall. Clocking in at eight pounds,and sporting a sharp edge,this weapon is frighteningly effective,and very few things will survive a square hit. Of note,it can cleave helms and shatter arms behind thinner shields. Although large,it is not inherently slow and clumsy,and,indeed,is neither in Narathzul's hands. Narathzul has a reach comparable to spearmen with this sword.


Knighthood: Formerly Teutonic


Social Class: Disgraced noble.


Weaponry: Described above.


Province: N/A


Leige: Mankind


Mount: A destrier,big and strong.


Mount Name: Donner (German for "Thunder")


Mount Personality: Obedient,loyal,and there is absolutely nothing that Narathzul had found that can spook it.


Family: The Arantheal family is a prime example of Teutonic thinking. Station in the family is determined by combat prowess,and not much else. Members of the family often engage in duels with others for sport,and to remind the rest of the nobles how skilled they are,often making a show of it. All defeats are taken gracefully,but the punishment back at home for the dishonor is often severe.


Personality





Best Trait: His quick mind serves him better than even his sword arm.


Worst Trait: He has a bullheaded single-mindedness that has very nearly killed him as often as it benefited him.


Soft Spot: He has a particular fondness for the working commoner.


Strengths: Narathzul is an extremely strong and well-conditioned man,as befitting his status as an ex-knight. He is known to be silver-tongued,and capable of exercising his presence to manipulate people to his whims. He's been known to continue,despite injuries that would've stopped other men.


Weaknesses: Narathzul often underestimates his opponents,as he is confident in his own fighting prowess. Narathzul,while people-smart,isn't exactly book-smart. His compassion for the working and workless men and women often drive him to do stupid things. His stance on the religion is rather...Vocally negative,and I'll leave it at that. As he is disgraced and disowned,he holds no rank or title in Gallace.


Motivation: To overthrow the aristocratic priesthood's rule of Gallace,and replace it with the rule of mortal men for mortal men. Or,in his words, "Mortal men should be governed by mortal men,not myths and legends."


Personal History: Narathzul Arantheal was born as a lowly lord. However,as he and his family displayed an uncanny aptitude for combat,their status rose,eventually to the point of having their own Dukedom,such an ascension possible only in the Teutonic order,who value martial prowess above wealth or lineage. However,even still,such a meteoric rise in power is uncommon,and raised more than a few eyebrows.


Narathzul,in particular,was a fine specimen of Teutonic ideals. He was strong,disciplined,and clever. Favouring a relatively new sword design,known as a zweihander,Narathzul cut an imposing figure to his opponents in duels of honor,clad in half-plate and chain,wielding a sword as tall as himself with swiftness and deftness seemingly paradoxical to such a sight.


Making a name for himself as a peerless fighter,Narathzul,after earning his status as a knight,was given command of several detachments during the Forsworn War,and was responsible for numerous important strategic victories in the tail end of the war. Up until this time,Narathzul was a devout follower of the gods,believing that they would bestow their favour upon those who showed their devotion.


However,as thousands of good men and women died to the godless enemy,he questioned this. Surely the gods would deign to grant their faithful the skill,strength,and fortune to overcome those that deny the gods...Right? When the dragons made themselves apparent to assist in the war,this question became an obsession. The dragons were demons - Nay,devils,and they assist the followers of the gods? It was too much for him to blindly accept as the grace of the divine.


After returning home,his people bruised,but victorious,Narathzul took it upon himself to investigate the "grace" of the gods. While the nobility of the Teutonic order grew fat on money earned by their bloodline and laborers,the commoners barely made end's meet - If they were lucky. And it was the bottom rungs of society that prayed to the gods the most fervently. It was as if they didn't exist. Either the gods didn't,or couldn't,do anything for the mortals who died in their name.


Ever since,Narathzul abandoned his religious habits. He refused to serve myths and legends. However,he never voiced his opinions nakedly. He knew what it would mean for him and his family if he did. While his opponents prayed as they prepared for their duels,he observed and stretched. While his family went to services,he walked among the peasantry,assisting whenever he could.


Eventually,unknown to Narathzul,the Lionharts taken notice to his skill,and his family as a whole. One of the youngest families in any of the three orders,and they were among the most powerful. It was an affront to them. The higher Teutons,of which there were few,feared his family's skill and influence. They hatched a conspiracy,to tear apart the family,and discredit their star child.


One day on the markets,Narathzul came across a Lionhart noble striking a commoner. Upon askance for the noble's reason,he responded that the churl was in his way. Narathzul was disgusted by this Lionhart's overinflated sense of entitlement,and said,quite calmly,that he could have simply pushed past the commoner,or demanded they step aside. The Lionhart bristled,and demanded to know whose side he was taking,to which Narathzul replied,quite simply,the commoner's,for the noble was very much in the wrong.


For the insult to his honor,the Lionhart demanded a duel the next day,in Lionhart style,to blood. Narathzul accepted,stating that the better man will win,and be proven right.


The next day,they assembled at a neutral Lord's hall,to a small audience of Teutons and Lionharts. After arming themselves,and bowing,the two men dueled. Narathzul's opponent,a Duke Faarquad,was a nimble opponent,and tough to get a hit in on,considering that he stood four feet tall,in what he deeply suspected were elevator boots.


Their bout lasted for fifteen minutes,a good thirteen minutes longer than it should have. The large man pressed any openings he could,but the epee favoured the small man,and thus the match was drawn out. The combatants lunged and feinted,parried,and riposted,but it all served to make a flashy flailing. Neither man was able to land a single blow,let alone a square one.


However,Faarquad made a mistake. He overswung on a sweep. Tiring of the show,Narathzul stepped forward,planting his boot on the little duke's blade,and plunging his own epee into the dwarf's shoulder,drawing blood. Narathzul stepped back from the defeated duke,and was surprised to see that the witnesses were shocked. He drew blood honorably. His opponent made a mistake,and he punished it. Such was combat.


Before anything could be said,however,Narathzul heard the rasping of a blade leaving a scabbard. He sprang forward and wheeled around,causing the duke to miss. Faarguad continued,going for the chest without breaking stride. Narathzul,with his extreme reach advantage,simply lunged,driving for the chest,the best opening. The weapon drove home in his heart,deflecting and bending off of ribs,brutalizing his organs. Narathzul stepped forward,using his momentum to boot the duke off the blade.


The tiny man floundered like a fish out of water,trying to get up,and failing. Narathzul was dismissed immediately,and within the week was visited my a magistrate,reading him his charges. Murder of a duke being at the top of the list. He was to appear for sentencing,as he was already judged on every witness' testimony. It went as well as he expected; Narathzul was stripped of title and station,and removed from his house. Effectively,he was made a commoner.


Narathzul left the city in disgrace. This was three years ago. During this time,he wandered the world,and eventually made contact with a man calling himself a priest,who has heard of Narathzul's story and deeds. The priest asked him to accompany him on a journey to the south,to meet with old friends. The priest was sickly,so Narathzul agreed,assuming the priest desired protection.


Narathzul was quite wrong.


The priest served the dragons,and he was sought out to be their agent. They knew of his misgivings of the church that commanded the kings and queens. They offered him a choice: The means to right what is wrong,or to proceed alone,and die in ignominy.


He chose the former.

 

[Sgt Grunt]

Character sheet:

Name:

Heinrich Von Vanderfell



Gender:

Male



Age:

17



Race:

Human





If Human:



Appearance:

Large build from years of fighting as a squire, weighs about 150 pounds at 5'8










Student: Yes











Weapon:

Basic long sword





Secondary Weapon:

Heater shield





Social Class:

Born of a lower class family, he was accepted only due to family connections to the school.





Province:

Teutonic





Liege(if any):

Teutonic Hochmeister/ not chosen by a knight as of yet





Mount:

N/A












Family Description:

Heinrich grew up poor and has grown used to living on little. His family only had the ability to send him to the academy through connections to some of the higher ups and teachers. His family work as militia and farm workers owned by Teutonic barons, and the barons knew Heinrich from a young age.



Personality:

Heinrich has a deep love of martial combat, and strives to be better than his peers in all aspects. He has jealousy issues with those who surpass him, and is not totally below subversive actions to bring down his competition. Possibly considered as a bully by his peers, Heinrich has nevertheless proven himself as a able fighter to all who watch, and takes great pride in his sword play prowess.



Best trait:

Handsome



Worst trait:

A total asshole to anyone he sees as 'lesser'



Soft Spot:

Beautiful armor and wenches



Strengths:

His aggressive attack, His overbearing personality, and his will to succeed.



Weaknesses:

Has little knowledge of defense or it's uses, is bad at making friends, is jealous of Nobles and has been berated for his lack of chivalry on the field multiple times.



Personal History (what affects them):

Heinrich grew up around people telling him he was lesser for his familial standing, and that nobles were the highest order of being. He learned to not only obey them, but grew fiercely jealous and determined to become one them some day. He will obey orders by his knights without question, as that is how people in the Teutonic lands are raised, and he has never found a reason to ask why that is. His whole life before entering the academy was farming, and drilling himself on the art of swordplay. He has no real opinion on dragons, as he's never seen one before.


He went for the commoners test as soon as he was old enough, and the baron who knew him and his family pressured the knights running it to accept him. It was unnecessary, as he performed exceptionally anyway, but he was accepted with little to no fuss, though he still seeks a knight mentor even to this day.



Drives and motives:

His goal in life is to become a Noble with a fiefdom, though he joy of battle moves him just as much if not more so for spur of the moment decisions.

 

[Killigrew]

Name: Emmony “Emmie” Nightingale


Gender: Female


Age: 16


Race: Human


Appearance:


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Smaller in form, about 5’6”. She’s been taught a more agile, tactical form of battle from her Templar mentors, as a must. She knows she wouldn’t be able to take on a fully armored knight head-on, and plans to use magic and wits to overcome.


Relic: Air, her earrings are the relic (see picture)


Student


Weapon: Estoc (45.3 in), parrying dagger

Secondary Weapon: Flail

Social Class: Lord’s daughter


Province: Galdin (a fort near the border of the ForeSworn (Black) Mountains)


Family Description: The Nightingale line was founded some 100 years hence, and were commoners before then. Her father, Rumric, won a large number of battles during the ForeSworn war, and when it had ended, he was awarded Lordship title and given the lands of one of the slain noble families; a fort town at the base of the Black Mountains.


Personality: She’s mischievous and loves to have a good time. Superstitious, she feels quite close with Airesh, and sometimes whispers to herself fancying the goddess can hear her. At home with the idea of the wind, Emmony likes to think Airesh blesses that fun-loving side of herself, and keeps it up as best she can.


Best trait: Very tolerant and makes every effort to get along with others.


Worst trait: She blinds herself to the truth when it’s inconvenient or difficult to swallow.


Soft Spot: Capable and handsome fellows


Strengths: Patience, and Creativity. She has very accurate thrusts, though they lack in power.


Weaknesses: She tends to overlook the obvious, has a terrible sense of direction, finds it difficult to obey her masters and doesn’t know when to stop having fun. She lacks brute strength when it comes to combat, and would buckle under a direct hit from a fully trained, muscled knight.


Personal History: As far as her ladyship status goes, she’s rather low on the totem pole, a fact she was reminded of throughout her days at Gallace’s academy. She avoids such criticism like the plague, and to avoid attention, neglected her practice and strengthening studies, and has a lot of catching up to do in the religious and historical studies before she’s going to even be considered for squiredom. Emmie had, instead, spent her days frolicking in the woods, hunting and trapping, selling the gains at the local market for extra coin, which she then spent on drink and jollied about. Her father stepped in once he received word of her lackadaisical attitude, and set her straight, threatening her with disownment should she not prove herself at the knight’s academy. Emmie therefore resolved to catch up, and plans to use this semester to accomplish this.


Drives and motives: Emmie just wants to have a good time and get along well with the people she meets. As for the dragons, she sees that as trouble waiting to happen, and would rather humans be separated from them, not integrated with them.

 

[ninbinz]

Spoiler

Name: Ma'Arr 'Mason' Zo'Un


Gender: Male


Age: 87


Race: Dragon


Human Form:

Description:


He stands at 5"2' and has bleach blond hair, he looks every bit the thirteen year old human equivalent of his actual age. He has an honest face even despite is light blue draconic eyes. His human form is common amongst Air Dragon and is warm to the touch much like the arid climes he comes from. Unlike many other draconic children Mason looks healthy and hale thanks to his home on the border of a desert.


Dragon Form:

Description:


Embodying the raw ferocity of a seaside squall or a gusty afternoon Ma'ar stands at 6"5' and is the average size of dragons his age. His scales are stark white like bleached bone or white chalk in order to hide him in the sun's glare or in cloud cover. He is also at home in the white hot sands of his dessert home and alights on small breezes with his wings that are roughly 8" in wingspan. His scales are hard and thorny to protect from projectiles.


Element: Air


Drives and motives:


He is driven by curiosity and wishes to explore the world. Young though he may be, he is a voracious learner and hopes to be among the wises of dragons in his old age. It is also his dream to be a knight though he doubts it will ever happen.


Social Class:


He was the only survivor of his mother's first clutch, he was the youngest of three, his older brothers were already drakes when he was born and as such they had left the nest and were exploring the world on the wind currents as most adolescent air dragons do. On the cusp of Drakehood himself he could feel the instinct to take wing to the wind and be off to explore the vast expanses of the world. It was noted that he received the urge earlier than his brothers which was a good omen, something to counteract the bad symbol of his sister's abnormal birth. As such he was given permission by the elders to leave his parents and his home in search of his destiny whether it be death or life.


Family Description:


His mother is among the oldest Air Dragons still living alongside his father. Unlike most dragons Ma'ar's mother gave birth up to three times, each time she laid a clutch of two eggs. The first clutch were born with no deformities and grew up to be strong willed and brave dragons. Her second clutch was not so lucky as neither of the eggs hatched, they believed it was due to her age and some biological oddity. Her third clutch was a mixed bag. Ma'ar's elder clutch mate was born with a deformity, her name was to be Zo'un but the elder drgons declared her unfit for life and she was entombed in the earth and denied the freedom of the skies. Ma'ar was then gifted his elder sister's name in remembrance, his parents often said his sister dwelt within his heart since she was not able to do so in her own body.


Personal History:


Unbeknownst to Ma'ar his sister was not buried and left to die beneath the earth, his parents in their wisdom saw her death as a waste and in secret they dug her up. The elder's were right in one thing; that she could not live to grow into a full grown dragon. The pain her deformity would bring her growing up meant that she might go insane and very few dragons could handle one of their kind who had gone insane no matter how young they were. So instead of that gruesome fate the spared their eldest and only daughter by performing an ancient blood magic spell. They would secure their daughter's soul and forged her body into a dagger of dragon scales imbued with her blood.


On the day of his farewell his parents gifted him with the small blade no bigger than a Drake's longest claw. Fresh out of the nest he has managed to find the nearest human village, he blindfolded himself as his other senses were keen enough in human form to allow him to go without sight. He introduced himself to the village as an orphaned boy he lived off pig slop and leftovers some families deigned to gift him, it took them a while to come to trust him. At some point the local Innkeeper gave him a job as a stable boy since he only had a mule and a mare named Molly.


Personality:


He is young in every sense of the word, brash, foolhardy stubborn and full of energy, his life s a dragon however has taught him something of wisdom and much of being stubborn. He is inquisitive and brave, he is wily and quick, everything a mother hopes boy to be.


Best trait: He is kind and


Worst Trait: He can be too curious.


Soft Spot: He has a soft spot for animals.


Strengths:He is kind hearted and in battle he is quick, lightning quick.


Weakness: He can be naive and stubborn. In battle he is undisciplined and wild.

 

[Auren]

Name: Lureana Rompth


Gender: Female


Age: Seventeen


Race: Human


Appearance: Small, barely five feet tall. Thin, slim build.

Picture Courtesy of milyKnight on deviantart.com


Relic(if any): She has one silver armband with a crystal made from frozen fire.


Student or Mentor: Student


KNIGHTHOOD: Lionhart


Weapon: Short sword


Secondary Weapon: Longbow


Social Class: Lower Noble.


Mount: She has no mount due to her family’s loss in finances. She won’t admit it, and is always saying that her family will be sending her a mount any day.


Family Description: Lower noble, working the fields just outside the city.


Personality: Lureana is a very strong-willed girl. She fights for what she believes in and doesn’t put in much effort if she doesn’t have to. She enjoys working in the stables and grooming the horses. It gives her a calm sense of mind, especially when she is upset. Even with her small size, she practices as hard as any of her peers and has been known to defeat men twice her size. She has no care for dragons, devils or not. She just wants to protect the weak and create a fair order for others.


Best trait: Her level-headedness


Worst trait: Doesn’t always think through situations and says things she really shouldn’t.


Soft Spot: She can’t help but try to save the wounded. Even if the wounded is her enemy.


Strengths: She won’t take any bullshit from anyone and due to her build, she is extremely agile.


Weaknesses: Not having the proper education, Lureana only knows what she has lived. She swings fast and hard in combat, not for lack of practice, but for lack of patience.


Personal History (what affects them): Being raised on a farm, Lureana has always worked hard to earn what she wants. She grew up wearing decent enough clothes. She wasn’t in rags at least. Her family was once rich, but now they live in a worn-down mansion, and can barely pay for one servant. When she heard about the school for knights, she and her family sold many of their frunishings to pay for the school's tuitions in hopes to avoid the scandal that would come with the commoner's test. They have one guest room and one dining room left with its furnishings to give the appearance of wealth to the other, occasionally visiting nobles. Her family used the lore of being exclusive to only the highest of nobles, and Lureana's father was the only one to go into the city to maintain political connections.


Once enrolled, Lureana worked very hard at being the best in her class in hopes of being knighted. She has also been so involved in her own life, that she never paid much attention to dragons and the lore around them. She knew of them, and their equation to devils in religion. She just had better things to worry about than some oversized lizards. She never lets anyone in the school know about her lower status as a noble, and spends most of her time away from people. After all, if she doesn’t interact with other nobles, she doesn’t have to worry about being found out as poor.


Drives and motives: She has no motives hidden from others, and her only drive is to become the best in order to meet her goal of helping the lower class.


 
I hope this is okay. Let me know if I need to change anything. Some of the form confused me.

 

[Jays]

Spoiler

Name: Arterus Helion.






Gender: Male (duh!)


Age: 18


Race: Human


Appearance:


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Relic(if any): A pendant. Air relic, usage unknown (I wear it for fun)


Student or Mentor: student


Knighthood: Teutonic


Weapon: that sword in the picture.


Secondary Weapon: A dagger


Social Class: Born in a minor noble family


Province: Rorstiel


Liege(if any):None


Mount: A horse. (duh! do people ride dragons?)


Mount Name: Falcon


Mount Personality: Arrogant, a little stubborn. Unimpressed with anything he sees.


Social Class: Noble


Family Description: A small land lord in the middle of nowhere, head of a small city that barely had 2000 citizens.


Personality: Cool, collected. He's aware of his standing among people, and never brag about it. Benevolent in nature.


Best trait: He's honest. When he doesn't like something he doesn't say he likes it. He shut up and stare meaningfully.


Worst trait: He's too honest for his own good.


Soft Spot: girls in general.


Strengths: He's honest. He's fast.


Weaknesses: He's too honest for his own good. He's not fast enough to escape his mount. Arterus always try to find a solution that doesn't required violence, which sometimes brought him into serious trouble.


Personal History: Growing up in a peaceful land, Arterus wasn't used to the brutality of combat. But he had learned things that soldiers can't: there're always way out without using violence. His father was of the Teutonic branch so so was he, but Jason never much cared about politics and power. He was always being treated as the black sheep even though he's the best sword man in his family's five generations because of his nonviolent nature. He went to the Academy simply to learn. Instead, he found himself stucked in the middle of a power struggle where everyone must choose a side. Reluctently, he bet the leader of Templar's student's (who had now graduated) in a duel, so everyone left him alone for the rest of his time at the Academy. At odd with all of the other students and his own family.


When he was 14, two years before the Academy, Arterus found a new friend. On the mountain 3 miles from his home, he found an interesting stranger. He spent hours and days at the mountain talking to the man, sharing his frustration and resignation because his family resented him for the way he was. And the stranger offered to teach him the art of the sword. Arterus only agree after days of refusing, studying as a hobby. 2 years passed with him praticing everyday, getting better under the guidence of the stranger. At his departure, he was given a sword, decorated on its handle and sheath in dragon sculpture. He also receive the pendant of air, which little does he knew made him much faster in combat. He fiund out later that his friend was an Elder Dragon.


Drives and motives: Girls. And girls. And learning. But mostly girls.

 

[Nozzivix]

Name: Torath the Wise


Gender: Male


Age: 133


Race: Human


Appearance: Despite his advanced age, Torath doesn’t appear much older than 70. He is spry for his age, and towers over most humans at 6’7. A long white beard flows from his chin, and hair of the same length and colours flows from his head. He oft wears dark blue robes, and occasionally a felt hat of the same colour sits atop his head. Wise blue eyes twinkle from their sockets, and he exudes the presence of a kindly grandfather.


Relic(if any): Torath has many Relics, gathered from around the world during his long tenure as high magister of Gallace, though on his person he keeps one of each element, fire, ice and air, though he hasn’t needed them for a long… long time. around his neck are three ancient Dragon scales, one of each element, reminders of the folly of man.


If Mentor:


Weapon: On his wrists sit two compact sparking devices, made to create fire for use with fire magic. They aren’t exactly needed, but they can prove helpful if there is no source of fire, or accelerant nearby. He also carries a flask of water for ice magic.


Secondary Weapon: A short, ornamental blade, rarely used and mostly for appearances.


Social Class: High Magister(Headmaster)


Province: Gallace


Mount: A midnight black horse.


Mount Name: Koteras


Mount Personality: Patient and old. Koteras isn’t Torath’s first horse, but she is descended from it. She knows well to follow her rider’s lead.


Personality: Patient, wise, and far too old to care for the ‘honour’ or ‘religion’ of his colleagues.


Best trait: Patience


Worst trait: Occasionally slips into arrogance, and is unwilling to believe he is wrong without extreme proof.


Soft Spot: Those willing to learn.


Strengths: Is a great user of magic, able to use all three forms. His patience and kindness sets those around him at ease, gaining him the reputation of a wiseman amongst the humans.


Weaknesses: (Always 1 more than strengths, at least 1 character flaw, at least 1 physical/combat) Can be arrogant, and his kind demeanour can slip when angered if it doesn’t irritate those he’s being kind to. He’s incredibly old, so he wouldn’t last long in physical combat.


Personal History (what affects them): Torath ‘the wise’ was born Torath McAlastair one hundred and thirty three years ago. His father was a priest of Flamberge, and his mother a priestess of Airesh. He always suspected that their marriage was one of a political nature, but they still raised him the best they could, that is until his 13th birthday. His entire life he’d lived in fear of the marauding ForeSworn, but on that day, the Dragons appeared and turned the tide in the favour of Gallace. During the battle, his parents hid away in a monastery with him, praying to their gods to protect them. Of course, it failed. The monastery collapsed around them and his parents were crushed. Torath knew nothing after that, waking up in a strange cave a few days later, a coppery taste in his mouth. Worried that he had bit his tongue, Torath panicked and began to hyperventilate, only for a strange man to appear to calm him. The man was strange, with bleached white hair, and deep blue eyes that appeared as if they could swallow him into their depths. What was strangest was the cuts on the man’s wrists.


“Calm yourself, Torath of Gallace.” The man had said. “They call me the Eldest, and you are on my mountain. How do you feel?”


Torath couldn’t stop himself from staring at the fresh-looking wounds on the man’s wrists, and the coppery taste in his mouth terrified him. The man revealed himself to be a Dragon, the leader of them no less, and he had saved Torath’s life by giving him his blood. The young Wizard fell horribly sick, as Dragon Blood is toxic to humans, despite its healing properties. Under the Dragon’s care, he slowly recovered. Torath had already begun studying the basis of magic, but with the blood of such an ancient dragon inside him, bringing him from the brink of death, his magical potential had skyrocketed, but at costs he still doesn’t fully understand. His hair had been bleached white, and his eyes blue, like the dragon that had saved him. Over the years, he learned all three forms of magic, something almost unheard of in humans, save for very few, the High Magisters. The Dragons had explained that Magic ran on belief, which was why most humans specialized in one god. His belief in the gods shattered, Torath turned his belief inward, believing entirely in himself, and his ability to use all three forms, like the Eldest could. When he had mastered his inner demons, Torath approached the knights of Gallace, and after proving himself to the three high priests, they declared him high magister, and he has taken to trying to protect the people of Gallace, and communicates with the Eldest via the Promise, eager to keep the peace between their people in any way possible. He doesn’t know whether his seeming longevity is related to his magical mastery, or the blood of the Eldest, but he is grateful that it has allowed him to try and guide his people towards a better future.


Drives and motives: To foster peace in Gallace, and teach the next generation.

 

[Caos]

Spoiler

Name:





Damian Grey.


Gender: Male.


Age: 21.


Race: Human.


Element: Fire.


Appearance: Muscular build, 200lbs, 6'1 height, Brown eyes, Black shaven hair, and a black trimmed beard.

Relic(if any): Armored helmet wings (Explanation: Damian grey's obtained this as it was a family heirloom passed down to him, few people declare that the wings on the helmet contain the power of incredible strength and will.)


Student or Mentor: Student.


KNIGHTHOOD: Teutonic.


Weapon: Glaive pole-arm.


Secondary Weapon: Horseman's pick


Social Class: Blacksmith.


Province: Rorstiel.


Liege(if any): N/A.


Mount: Horse.


Mount Name: The Red Hare.


Mount Personality: The Red Hare is aggressive towards other people except its owner Damian Grey and if anyone besides its owner tries to tame it, the Red hare will buck trying to kick the person mounting him off.


Family Description: The Greys family tree are known for their proficient spear and sword combat among the provinces and among one of the richest families in families in the land.


Personality: Damian is extremely arrogant sometimes and is usually obsessed with competitive events, Damian also is not a very talkative person and mostly keeps to himself.


Best trait: Courage.


Worst trait: Arrogance.


Soft Spot: Made an oath to never kill a woman or a child, shows mercy towards children and women towards any race.


Strengths: Concentration and overwhelming strength.


Weaknesses: Goes in head first without thinking and isn't very skilled at archery.


Personal History:Damian Grey was born in not a very rich environment his family started off as peasants and farmers working hard to make a profit and show their dedication towards their kingdom, his family would often smith or craft miscellaneous things like pendants and other types of jewelry which some then used to their advantage later on as blacksmiths and crafters. Damian Grey discovered his passion for smithing and competition when he was 8 year of age, he'd always watch his father smith weapons and shields for the members of the knighthood then in return offered the Grey's weapon sparring, jousting, and archery training which Damian's father partaken in quite often. By the age of 10 Damian's father gained an illness and was train or smith, then one night Damian's father told Damian "Son, I know that I shall not be here for long and I ask one dying wish. Please just make me proud and show the world how tough the Greys truly are!". Damian then swore to his father that he'll become the strongest warrior in the land by any means necessary and started training with the knighthood relentlessly at the young age of 10 years old and still to this day trains to this day.


Drives and motives: His father.

 

[King Of Imagination]

Spoiler

Name:





Aristaeus Versols


Gender: Male


Age: 20


Race:


Human:


Appearance: ('cept, ya know, without the horns and crazy elf ears.)He stand about 6'5, weighs just under 200 pounds, and if wiry and semi-muscular


<p><a href="<fileStore.core_Attachment>/monthly_2014_03/image.jpg.ab769a5bd3b14d5c33389abb09ba1f8b.jpg" class="ipsAttachLink ipsAttachLink_image"><img data-fileid="14228" src="<fileStore.core_Attachment>/monthly_2014_03/image.jpg.ab769a5bd3b14d5c33389abb09ba1f8b.jpg" class="ipsImage ipsImage_thumbnailed" alt=""></a></p>


Relic(if any): His sheath, in addition to a simple incantation, will return his arrows to the sheath. He was given this by a priest for protection shortly before his hometown was overrun by the ForeSworn. The incantation is as follows:


Almight Airesh, Goddess on high, your power so great, please spare some for your child to retun to him the implements of his protection and his defense of the land that you created.


Student or Mentor: Student


If Student:


Weapon: A bow made from the wood of an ancient oak.


Secondary Weapon: A fire hardened staff made from a redwood tree.


Social Class: Semi-Noble


Family Description: He is the son of a lord on the council in his home town, or at least, until the town was taken by the ForeSworn. He was taken in by his brother, a knight of the Teutons, before being inducted into the Academy.


Personality: He's not a very violent guy, more of a peaceful spirit. He'll fight if he has to, but he prefers to compromise then for it to come to blows. However, if it does come to blows, he doesn't hold back. He will hit you until you concede or collapse. He does have a philosphy against blades. Swords, axes, anything that can cut someone, he won't use. Yet odly he doesn't mind the use of arrows. Perhaps it's the distance factor.


Best trait: He always works his hardest.


Worst trait: Some would see this as a good thing, but he's a bit of a pacifist, which isn't exactly good in a Knight.


Soft Spot: Women


Strengths: He has good vision, and as a result has better accuracy. He's also a very good negotiator.


Weaknesses: As said, he's a pacifist. He also won't use bladed weaponry, which often means he wont kill. He's not very physically strong, so if it comes to hand to hand, he isn't that likely to win.


Personal History (what affects them): He was trained to hunt by his uncle using a bow and arrow, and when his uncle died, his bow was given to Aristaeus. It hasn't left his sight since that day.


He was brought to the Academy after a terrible event. The ForeSworn invaded his hometown, on the border between the ForeSworn and their country. Everyone was killed, but because he was out hunting at the time, Aristaeus survived. He was found by his brother, huddled in his home, staring at his father's head nailed to the wall. Anyone else would have wanted revenge, but he wasn't that kind of person. Instead, he wanted to stop it from happening to anyone else.


So his brother enrolled him in the Academy, and while he has yet to figure out where he really belongs, he has been working his ass off every day into the nights at times.


Drives and motives: He wants to protect people from the ForeSworn, so that what happened to his family won't happen to anyone else.

 

[Taqhart]

Spoiler

Name:





Rowan Archard


Gender: Male


Age: 17


Race: Human


Appearance: Heavy build, 200 lbs, 6'0" (and still growing), Amputee/ missing his right arm. Blind in the right eye.

Relic: None yet


Mentor: Master Shaman Gaol


PRIESTHOOD: The Measures of Eesna


Rank: Acolyte


Weapon: Iron Gauntlet with blue gems to symbolize Eesna.


Secondary Weapon: Faith magic (Ice)


Social Class: Peon (before initiation)


Province: Lionhart


Liege: None


Mount: None (Uses the academy's stables)


Family Description: The Archards have worked on the western farmlands belonging to Duke Hernswealth of the Lionharts. The family have survived on those lands longer than any other family, people would say that the soil of the fields flowed in their blood. A simple people who worked hard and feared the gods. Every Arhcard is big, Rowan's father was a giant of a man Kenth stood 6'7" and was rumored to be strong enough to throw a horse. Unlike most of the Lionharts who gave praise to Flamberge, the Archards praised Eesna; praising Eesna has been an Archard tradition for countless generations. When Rowan was 7 years old his mother died while giving child birth to his younger sister Rita. Rita and Rowan were both raised by their father and help from the village.


Personality: Rowan learned early in life that a nothing is free. He grew up working a hard land riddled with rocks and stones to grow a small harvest, just enough to survive on after giving half to the duke. Even his sister's life came at a cost, his mothers life. Rowan's family instilled the cold trust of Eesna into him. The promise and solitude that every action is weighed and made even by the ice god gave peace to Rowan. He spend long sleepless nights praying to Eesna for his father to find peace in his heart after his wife died.


Rowan offers no sympathy to the guilty and respects those that take responsibility for their actions, for inside every punishment lay a lesson, such is said by the god of justice. Seeing the variables of life in only black and white, makes Rowan blind to the grey intricacies of life, such things that are not easily defined offer a challenge to Rowans faith at times.


Best trait: He judges individuals purely based on their actions.


Worst trait: Zealotry


Soft Spot: The poor and downtrodden of society, injustice, mothers.


Strengths: Relatively open-minded compared to others of his faith, concentration, unyielding faith and physical constitution.


Weaknesses: Lack of martial training, physically slow, only has one arm, poor eyesight (blind in one eye), obsessive and touchy.


Personal History (what affects them): Rowan spend his childhood working on the harsh farmlands of the western Lionlands. His father Kenth taught him the farmers trade and how to praise the gods. Rowan's mother died giving birth to his sister Rita when he was 7 years old. The death of his mother never left his fathers heart and the village believed that Rita was cursed, for any child born with the dead would bring death. The farm boy was devoted to his family but even more so to his deity, Eesna gave Rowan a sense of meaning to his mothers death and purpose to his rustic life. Rowan always had a burning curiosity and would trade wooden carvings of Eesna, that he made himself, to women who worked in the Dukes castle for book. Rowan was the first of his family to learn how to read and was the one who taught his sister the secrets of the pages, in the evenings after work. Life was simple then. When the foresworn attacked they burned the village and destroyed the farms, Kenth was killed trying to fight of the barbarians before they reached the families hut, Rowan watched his fathers murder in the mud. The barbarian who crushed his fathers skull noticed Rowan and his sister watching and started to move over to them. Rowan tried to stop the forsworn but with one swing the boy's arm was crushed by a blow from a forsworn's warhammer, a strike like that would have killed an adult man but Rowan survived. Left for dead the boy watched as his sister was taken by the foresworn.


By the fate of Eesna a shaman of ice from the academy found Rowan as the only survivor in the wet ashes of what used to be a village. The shaman traveled to the western farmlands investigate rumors of a relic in the area, seeing the destruction he abandoned his quest and aided the survivor, it was the just thing to so. The shaman's name was Gaol, and he brought Rowan to the academy to be healed. When Rowan woke up two weeks later he found himself without his right arm and darkness clung to his right eye. The boy didn't waste anytime to mourn his body, he tried desperately to walk his wounded body to the altar of the relics, to pray to Eesna. The Holy Girdle sat patiently on the altar as Rowan fell to his knees and prayed for justice for his family. He prayed with all of his heart, he prayed for his father, sister, mother, the village. The poor boy held out his remain hand to touch the Girdle when the air turned crisp. Gaol silently watched the boy he saved in amazement as frost crawled along the floor and clung to the windows.


From then on Gaol took Rowan as his acolyte and apprentice in faith.


Drives and motives: To stop injustice, Bring justice to the foresworn, for his family.

 

[Karma200]

Spoiler

Name:





Cecile Agnes/Celeste Agnes


Gender: Female/Female


Age: 18/18


Race: Human/Human


If Human:


Appearance: (include build, weight class)

They stand at 5''7, Cecile weighs 125 while Celeste weighs 128


Relic(if any): Fire/Ice (their necklaces)


Student or Mentor: Student/Student


Weapon:

&

Secondary Weapon:

Social Class: Lady/Lady (I think?)


Province: Ceffia/Ceffia


Liege(if any): None


Mount: Black Horse/Palomino Horse


Mount Name: Esther/Yvette


Mount Personality: Likes to push Cecile around, a bit of a bully, very loyal to Cecile and childish/Calm, patient, brave and very loyal to Celeste


Family Description: The parents of the Agnes family are strict about education, their family lineage go back a couple of years so they've got a lot of money to do a lot of things.


Personality: Cecile is an independent young adult who does what she wants a lot of the time, even with her parent's status she is a wild flame that refuses to act like ladylike unless necessary. She speaks her mind as much as she wants without any regret, of course since the other kids use to make fun of her lack of manners she would end up in fights which always got her a lot of lectures and extra lessons with her private tutors. / Celeste is the calmer and cooler of the twins but just because she doesn't raise her voice like Cecile doesn't mean she can't stand up for herself. She is smart and reads a lot of books as well as practices her writing almost daily, most people see her as the elegant sister and Celeste doesn't really mind that title. Celeste is a very fast learner and enjoys learning about anything that she can


Best trait: Her excellent aim/Her Smarts


Worst trait: Lack of Manners/Cold-side


Soft Spot: Birds/Cats


Strengths: Her speed, strength, concentration in battle and her resistence to give up/Her ability to think fast in battle, her calmness, Her acting skills


Weaknesses: Water, Anything that weighs her down more then usual, her sister and her stubborness/ Fire/Heat, Anything that can make her mind muddled (drugs/poisons), her sister and being merciless


Personal History (what affects them): Cecile and Celeste grew up with strict rules from their parents and relatives who would lock them up in a cell as punishment. If it wasn't for the love that their outcast Grandma gave them their personalities would be close to 'dead'. The two of them each had their own hobbies but they would always be around each other while doing it. Ex: Cecile would drag Celeste to her target practice and she would sit on the side reading a book.


Once the girls hit the age of 4 years old their parents shoved hard lessons of education on the girls and since they were willing to learn without a fight they were able to chose one thing they wanted to learn: Archery and Swordsmanship. At the age of 15 years old Cecile pretty much broke from the pressure and judgment their parents put on her and almost every night Celeste would find her sister in dark alleys with cuts or bruises on her from fights she got from other girls in town. Celeste tried to find several ways to get the both of them out of town and away from the stress that was piling up on them. 3 years later Celeste managed to convince her parents to send them to the Academy and happily succeeded.


Drives and motives: Her sister/Her sister





Is that alright?

 

[JellyFish]

Once upon a time there was a small child who was soaked in blood. As tears fell gracefully from her face, these words that were murmured destroyed her innocence forever...


"....Have a smile for every person you meet and plan to kill them."

Name: Cordelia Acosta

Gender: Female


Age: Eighteen Years of Age


Race: Humanoid Thingy


Human Form:

​

Description:

​

Skin - Porcelain; cool to the touch. It is soft and smooth, her alabaster flesh dusted with the lightest kiss of peach. Finger and toenails are white and have the potential to be rather sharp, however they are kept short. Ears are slightly pointed, pierced once and generally hidden beneath her hair.


Hair - Blonde, almost white in color. Tousled most of the time or braided. On special occasions it is laced with mahogany and bright copper ribbons. Well-kept and startlingly thick, it is styled into long, coiling ringlets at her jawline and brushes just past her hips with shorter, waist length sides and fly-away portions that twist against her forehead. While usually left in its spirals, occasionally she can be spotted with her hair unstyled. In this natural state, it is pulled straight at the roots and crown by its own weight, but falls into soft waves and loose curls closer to the ends, reaching to the middle of her thighs. When training, or when there is definitive work to be done, it is most often pulled into a single long, whip-like braid and left to hang down her back.


Eyes - Almond shaped, long-lashed and highly expressive, they are a clear shade of honey brown with a spreading ring of pale gold around the center .


Makeup - Only very minor enhancement to the corners of her eyes in soft black, with a light rose shade on her lips. Naturally, her lips are a light pink, Cordelia does her best to conceal this.


Scent - Lilacs and Heliotrope. A softly romantic pairing of lush florals, opening with the green tinged freshness of lilacs in full bloom, settling to a rich heart of white and purple lilac, a touch of orchid, and the slightest hint of rose melding into heliotrope with a base of mosses, soft musk and benzoin.

Relic:

A gift given to her by her father. It is said that the aqua green gem embedded into the necklace is a frozen devil's tear. Legend has it that this same gem was from a dragon of fire. Different twists on whether it was the tear is from the same dragon that slept with the queen so very long ago in the tales that keeps the people heart filled with hate or simply from a beast weeping in an unknown sadness. But Cordelia was told that such a jewel could entrap a dragon to do wearer's bidding. To keep the beast hypnotized and enchanted, it would remain clueless of what was going on around them. Though Cordelia never believed in such tales.

​

Weapon:

A double dueled sword, that can be unattached into two separate blades. It can be folded, as to carried easily or to just be hidden from public view. Some say it looks like a bow, and maybe that's how Cordelia wants it too look or maybe she plans to upgrade it. She is still uncertain.


Secondary Weapon:

A sword that once belonged to her father before his untimely death. The blade itself is made from a dark metal. The handle has a gold melted arm from something, whether it is human or not is not known. The red orb clutched by the golden appendage glows ominously when grasped by the rightful wielder.

​

Student or Mentor: Student, Apprentice, what ever you wish to call it.


Social Class: Some kind of noble more or less. If anything a daughter of a dead general.


Liege: Teutonic - Though she has hidden this fact by claiming to be Lionhart from her uncles side.


Mount: Berber horse; a light riding horse noted for its stamina. It has a powerful front end, high withers, short back, a sloping croup, and carries its tail low. (Cordelia will sometimes have to cut or braid the tail so it won't interfere with training.) It is hardy with clean legs and sound hooves. It does not have particularly good gaits, but gallops like a sprinter. Cordelia's stallion has a brown and white coat, with black and brown spots covering the hind and spreading to the chest.

Mount Name: Artemis


Mount Personality: Possesses a fiery temperament and refusal to be touched by strangers. He'll snap and bite at any head that he doesn't recognize and will be more willing to trample an individual than let them saddle him up.

​

Personality: Cordelia has little to no patience. She does not flourish in environments where indecisive people are present. She can talk herself in and out of a situation all in the same breath. She doesn't enjoy staying in one place too long. In most disagreements, she will come out the victor with an extraordinary ability to use words in her favor. She tends to be orderly and dedicated to building her life on a solid foundation of order and service. She values truth, justice, and discipline, and may be quick-tempered with those who do not. Because of her focus on order and practicality, she may seem overly cautious and conservative at times.


Best trait: Her ability to present facts in a straightforward and unbiased way; consequently her findings are invariably accepted without question. Her logical mind helps you others see both sides of contentious situations and this will help promote lively discussion and debates. Her keen intellect will stimulate those around her making her delightful company. Mostly.


Worst trait: Being a talkative person she will often fail to think before she speaks and this can cause problems in relationships. The mutable quality of her personality demands a restless, varied and changing atmosphere. This can make her anxious and constantly seeking change or something new and different.


She is Inconsistent - She is so sharp and quick that it is difficult for them to stay interested and engaged in the projects she starts off. Such inconsistency is her major weakness.


She is Indecisive - Whenever she is supposed to decide something, she is invariably in two different mindsets. Her indecisiveness sometimes costs her lucrative opportunities in life.


She has a Lack of Focus - She can get bored very easily, which is a direct consequence of lack of focus. Her energies are often scattered.


She is Nervous - While being energetic, she has a tendency to bite off more than she can chew. This leads to nervousness and makes her fickle.


Soft Spot: She pities those who are deformed or incapable of doing everyday activities without assistance.


Strengths:


When fighting Cordelia is a learner. She watches her opponents, sometimes purposely making mistakes so that she can understand their fighting style. After she gain a basic idea of how the move and react, she'll charge the with their own moves and tactics. Sometimes putting twists into the mix and adding her own strategies to their own. Personality wise, she is kinder than how she displaces herself. By taking her out of her masterful disguise of coldness, she is actually very kind and generous. Her strength though in this hiding behind a mask deal, is so she can read their emotions better than they can read hers. She'll use this to her own advantages while in battle, fooling her opponent into thinking she'll do this or that, while in reality its just a deceptive decoy.


Weaknesses:


Stockholm Syndrome - Those suffering from Stockholm syndrome come to identify with and even care for more demanding partners or companions in a desperate, usually unconscious act of self-preservation. They will defend them and in some situations believe that those who would wish to help or rescue them are threats; they may grow hostile if the person is insulted, refuse to speak against them and will go out of their way to appease them, often mistaking a lack of cruelty or abuse for a display of kindness or incorrectly magnifying true acts of kindness due to a lack of perspective. It can be seen as a form of traumatic bonding formed from prolonged, extreme levels of stress and fear - they may feel that they owe their lives to the person, who provide them with friendship and love, or insist that they 'have no one else to go turn too'.


Nightmare Disorder - Nightmare Disorder is classified as a parasomnia, which uses several criteria to attempt to pin down exactly what it is. First, they define a nightmare as an "elaborate dream sequence," which must contain a high level of anxiety or fear for the dreamer. With this definition in mind, Nightmare Disorder shows repeated occurrences of nightmares that lead to awakening, after which the individual instantly becomes fully alert. The individual experiences significant distress as a result of these symptoms, generally to the point of interfering with their daily functioning. The dreams suffered by people with Nightmare Disorder can be vividly described upon awakening - indeed, it is often difficult for the person to banish the memory of the dream enough to return to sleep. It has been shown that these nightmares occur almost exclusively during REM sleep, the approximately 90-110 minute period during the night in which "normal" dreaming occurs. Since this dreaming period is essential to functioning in mammals, a disorder which causes such distress when entering it can be quite destructive to a person's mental well-being.


Cordelia is half blind in the inner corner of her right eye, making it difficult to focus completely on her opponent. Sometimes she'll see two people and attack an illusion of the real deal. She grows frustrated quickly with herself and pushed herself to extremes in where she might pass out. She is very judgement of people, not situations. She will take one look at someone and decide right there whether to like them or not.

​

Personal History: After her mother left, being a woman of no morals or upbringing Cordelia's father took care of his 3 year old daughter. Being a army general and Teutonic, he would leave Cordelia with neighbors while he went to war or meetings concerning something violent and whatnot. Cordelia adored her father and decided she would be a general one day too. Demanding her father teacher her the ways of sword play, she began her journey to being a defender of her lands and people. Years passed and the girl was then 10 years old. She was a better fighter in the art of swords than some of the men in her father's army. She took pride in that, her ego flying to the roof. Soon she began recklessly fighting master knights and one day the danger caught up to her. While in a match, the edge of her opponents sword slice through her right eye, nearly tearing the brown orb out. It was only by a miracle she actually was able to keep her eye. But the cost was still there. She was half blind and it she was unable to see clearly. Her father forbid her from ever touching a sword again. But being rebellious, when her father left again she began practicing once more. Now more careful, she was turning out better than she was before that accident. She had to use all her senses to be able to fight, making her sharper mentally and physically. But it seems when ever things seem to be going well, life is just playing a cruel, unfit trick.


Her home was attacked. Her father was killed. And she was drenched in his blood. Never being able to say goodbye to his only child, he lay dead in a growing pool of blood, his daughter cradling his head in her lap. She was certain a dragon had done this. Nothing more nothing less. From her childhood, she had heard about the disasters dragons had caused and she knew this was one of them. From that day, she vowed she would find the killer and make him pay. And if anyone dared to stop her in her blood thirsting path, she'll make sure their blood was spilled by her hands too.


Her uncle, who was a high esteemed noble, took her in. ( Valid Info: The two brothers are actually half brothers, born from different mothers. The uncle was a full Lionhart while the other took on his mother's hierarchy: Teutonic. The scandal was hidden for a long period of time before the Teutonic mother made her son's presence known. The truth has been kept away from the people ever since. ) Unsure of how to take care of a girl much less a raging teen, he sent her to an knights academy to hone her skills and teach her to respect authority. But her darkened mind was blind to the opportunity and her heart became as cold as ice.


Drives and motives: She thrives off of making sure her father would be proud of her. She pushes herself to be the best so one day, so she could take her rightful place as a general.

​

 

[DarkAncient]

Spoiler

Name: Andrew Wicker


Gender: Male


Age: 17


Race: Human


appearance:

He weighs 156 and is considered a light weight for his height of 5'7"


Relic(if any): The circlet of hell.

Though it appears as a small ring with a strange goat head this relic has been passed down by his family for generations hidden from the eyes of others. It is a power to be used only in dire situations due to its side effects. Once put on the ring causes an excruciating transformation process in the host. The "Horns" of the ring extend into the finger of the wearer and into their veins pumping a black liquid into their blood. This first causes four horns similar to those on the ring to burst from underneath their skin causing permanent scarring on the area of the head as well as the skin to begin to turn a grayish white. Soon after the muscles of the user will grow stretching against their skin and causing immense pain to the user. In the end two black wings will sprout from the users back also breaking the skin and causing scaring but also causing a momentary break and reconstruction of the spinal column causing the final process to be the most excruciating. Once this is complete the ring will activate immense quantities of adrenalin to stop the pain for a period of ten minutes after which the effect will drain and the user will be left in a bloody heap on the floor. It is worth saying that during this transformation the user looses almost all higher brain functions.


Student or Mentor: Student






Weapon:

The Justifier is another family heirloom given to him before leaving to become a knight. The blade itself isn't too special but it is made of strong tempered steel and though it has seen many battles still shines like new. Though he has a good blade it still doesn't make him any better with one.


Secondary Weapon:

His father never explained where he got this weapon for his son, but he often mentioned that it cost him a lot to get it and that it was made custom. The blade is slightly larger than your average dagger but not big enough to be considered a sword and is usually kept behind his back.


Social Class: Commoner


Province: The small farming province of Erica


Liege(if any): None he hates nobles.


Mount: He is unable to afford a custom mount and so uses the stables. (this will change if I am allowed)


Mount Name: NA


Mount Personality: NA


Family Description: The Wicker family has a long history of fighting in wars, the last of which was the great war to decide upon the ruler of the country. Though Tibus Wicker was known to be a hero of the war who protected many he was in the end never mentioned by anybody when the war ended. People simply forgot about the Wicker family and left them to become farmers.


Personality: Andrew is a very reclusive man and aside from his teacher he rarely speaks. He has a deep spite for anybody calling themselves a noble so much that he often gets in fights with them. Though he is hot headed and reclusive he hates to see people being persecuted for any reason and will stand up for them.


Best trait: His sense of justice allows him to make friends and gives him drive towards his goals.


Worst trait: His hate and hot head gets him into fights he can't win.


Soft Spot: food mostly anything either sweet or spicy.


Strengths: He is able to make friends through his defensive nature as people flock to him for a protective hand. His swordsmanship needs work but he is quick on his feet.


Weaknesses: His hot head gets him into fights he can't win and so he ends up getting hurt a lot. The scars left on his body by use of his ring make him unattractive to most. He needs to work on his swordsmanship which leaves much to be desired.


Personal History (what affects them): Unfortunately the province of Erica was settled so far from any important town that the noble who watched over them grew bored and began to play "games". He would force the townspeople to work under impossible conditions and then ask them to hand over 75% of their gains. Eventually he even grew bored of that and began to take women from the province as he pleased. After a year of this the people grew tired of him and the place was abandoned. Before leaving the Wicker family placed all their hopes in Andrew sending him off to the academy to become a Teutonic knight hoping that he might change their fates. Because of this past Andrew grew up to hate anybody who calls themselves a noble and refuses to have anything to do with them. He will even get into small spats with nobles often leading to him getting in trouble.


Drives and motives: Andrew joined the academy in order to bring honor back to the Wicker family, he joined the Teutonic Knights because they would allow him to become important without royal blood. He has since been motivated by his hate for nobles to become strong enough to have the power to look down on them.


(I hope that everything is alright here, I made it slightly small because I would like to make changes as I play with him to allow for personality differences and his growth so I hope it is okay to edit after the fact while I play. If you want me to change anything just let me know.)

 

[Terragon]

Name: Arr’Muhil, called by humans “Armel”


Gender: Male


Age: 125, appears 20 in human form


Race: Dragon


If Dragon: Yes totally dragon


Human Form:

Spoiler

Description: In human form he stands at 6’2. Decently built young man with cloudy (grey/white) eyes. Straight white hair that falls just below his eyeline. Little is known about what he does in human form, other than that he is usually found alone but can be rather joyful and sociable around the right people.


Dragon Form:

Description: At shoulder length he stands at 10 feet, but standing on his hind legs it is roughly around 25 feet, more or less. His scales are the same as his hair color, cloudy grey/white. They can be fairly reflective off of sunlight.


Element: Air.


Social Class- Son of a well known war hero and elder council member.


Family Description: He is the supposed son of a war hero from the forsworn war. However, there have been rumors that he was actually adopted by Arr’Ras, the war hero. It was said that Arr’muhil was found with a small clutch of two eggs with no parents in sight. One of them was already hatched, while the other was just about to hatch. This is just speculation, but the only one who knows the truth is Ras, who has always reassured that they are related by blood. The reason why he was selected to be a student and ambassador for the dragons was mostly because of endorsements from Ras. At first they put off the recommendations due to reports of Arr’Muhil insulting his superiors, but they eventually gave in. To the humans, this is definitely a bargain.


Personality: With allies and friends: Jolly, sociable, civil, a troll, and in some cases all in one. With enemies it varies from him having fun and toying with weaker enemies, to being more focused against ones that pose an actual threat.


Best trait: Fast learner.


Worst trait: Sometimes he simply doesn’t know or care when to start being serious. Trouble finds him because of it.


Soft Spot: Those who can’t protect themselves. He has at one point witnessed travelers being robbed and murdered, and felt pity for them since he did not have the capability or the right to help.


Strengths: Agile, Adaptive


Weaknesses: He does have mild mood shifts which makes him a bit more sensitive and temperamental to a few things. Its almost like a seasonally thing. He's inexperienced when it comes to fighting.


Personal History: Arr’Muhil only has one parent/guardian, Arr’Ras. Ras’s mate was reportedly killed by a barrage of arrows. They were no confirmations whether they came from ForeSworn or Humans. Though for Arr, he has only known Ras. The first face he saw was Ras, and only Ras. There were rumors that Arr’Muhil was actually adopted by Ras, but he kept denying those claims. However, even to this day he wonders what the fate was of his supposed sibling. Even Arr’Ras has pondered on what may have befallen them.


Ras, as an air dragon himself decided to raise and train Muhil under his wing. What was surprising to him was how fast Arr’Muhil was able to learn how to perform basic fundamental actions that pertain to dragons. At his drakehood, he was able to keep up with even a strong-full grown adult such as Ras when it came to flying. Also he was able to control his own wind powers during his adolescent years, when compared to others when they are still trying to control their own emotional impulses and outbursts. Ras half jokingly thinks that his defense mechanism to such dangerous impulses was his sarcasm and his willingness to laugh at how ridiculous things were in the world. This made Ras relieved.


There were two types of air dragons on this land. One who has wanderlust similar to flame dragons, and prefers loneliness but likes to get along with others. These dragons are usually the cool-headed, light hearted and carefree ones.


However, when this wanderlust is not satiated, when the air dragon is inhibited or caged, unable to roam freely, they become perhaps one of the most dangerous beasts roaming the lands. Rather than the wind moving carefree around them, it gets absorbed into their hearts, resulting in a whirlwind of pent-up emotions. Mind that he doesn’t think these individuals are evil, not at all. But these are the ones that can cause a lot of damage and harm to others just by pure accident of not being able to control their emotional impulses. Thankfully, Arr’Muhil seemed to have fit into the former category, and not the latter.


Arr’Ras was called into the line of duty when the dragons entered the Foresworn war, and became a decorated war veteran from the lives he saved, and the hardships he endured. On top of it all, he became an elder council leader. He held Arr’Muhil back during the peak of the war, as he did not want his only son to be caught up in the violence. Though of course, that didn’t stop Arr’Muhil’s curiosity. Once in a while he would sometimes wander outside of the boundaries, just to observe what life is like during war. Of course, he would be in his human form and wear a blindfold in order to keep himself from being compromised. There were some traveling merchants who have witnessed a man matching Arr’Muhil’s description either being helpful to them or providing distractions for hostile foes in order to help them get away from danger. When Arr’Ras caught wind of this he was downright furious, though Arr’Muhil always denies any involvement.


Drives and motives: Arr’Muhil wishes nothing but peace between dragons and humans. For one, he thinks the entire conflict between the two races was ridiculous to begin with, even though he believes the humans started it first. And lastly, he is a bit selfish at heart. He wants to be able to explore outside dragon territory without the risk of some idiotic human wanting to burn him at the stake. He wants to go out and explore the world and meet new people.

 

[TerraBooma]

Name:Wyatt Ironis


Gender: Male


Age: 16


Race: Human


Appearance: Stands at 5'6 and weighs 157lb. Has green eyes and shaggy brown hair that's fairly unkept. Most noticible clothing item is a pair of goggles he takes everywhere.


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Dragon Opinion:


He isn't sure what to think about dragons, the religion says they're evil, but if humans can be varied why not Dragons? This belief was enforced when he learned clockwork. Because of this he learned that thingstend to be based on how they're created, if something is made with care it can prosper, but quick work is left in the gutter as garbage. He hasn't met a dragon, so it's not his place to say.


Relic:Small crystal in his glove (ice)


Student or Mentor:Student


KnightHood: Teutonic


Weapon:Crossbow


Secondary Weapon: Short Sword


Social Class: Low Born Knight


Province: Therin: The province of Therin is a simple one, it's one of the manufacturing provinces and is closer to the capital then some of the others, because of this, damage in the war was somewhat light compared to other regions, the warsworn being stopped only just in time. It's quite a hilly place, and because of that the mounts trained there are more endurance based then speed focused. The Province has a repuation for mounts that can keep going all day even in the hot sun


Mount: A dark brown Horse, Wyatt is skilled in firing his crossbow while riding, he's no master in it.


Mount Name: Arin


Mount Personality:Calm and reliable, while she isn't the fastest horse out there she can go further then most over a larger distance.


Family Description: The Ironis family isn't one of the well known noble families, but for the most part they're a good one. They never treat the peasants on their land harshly and in hard times during winter open their doors for the people to take shelter and have some food. Because of this attitude they've never risen very high, but are quite content to stay at their lower status. Wyatt's uncle is the person who introduced him to Clockwork and the inner workings that tick away into the night. Wyatt quickly fell in love working with clocks and the like, and spent days doing so, even avoiding his sword drills every know and then. Due to this, his parents didn't really approve of his behavior, and sent him to the academy in order for him to get some "real skill." Little did they know he's managed to sneak a few things with him to tinker with, including an idea of his for a clockwork crossbow, he'll probably never finish it, but he likes to work on it anyway. His Uncle sends him gears every now and then for him to tinker with, and he's always a bit happier when they arrive. He does work on his swordsmanship a lot more then he used to however, and he can not die fairly well in combat, he won't gain an advantage, but he can buy time.


Personality: Friendly but tends to keep to himself, he's always happier to be in his room tinkering but understands the importance of going out and making friends


Best trait: Friendly and intelligent


Worst trait: Terrible at public speaking


Soft Spot: People who need help/clockwork


Strengths: Brilliant at puzzles and a great shot with his crossbow


Weaknesses: Uncomfortable in large groups, is terrible at close quarters combat, and can get angered when people handle clockwork wrong/abuse it


Personal History: Wyatt was born on a cold winter evening when the land around was covered in a soft blanket of white. He grew up without many troubles, he made friends with the local kids, and managed to keep a few as he got older, even though many didn't consider appropriate. As he grew older, his training with weapons, horses, manners, and the like began, and while he didn't mind horses, understood the need for manners, and loves to shoot a crossbow, he couldn't bring himself to like swords training, his lack of interest became non-exsistant when his uncle taught him the inner workings of a clock. He spent days in his room, only coming out to do training or eat, but he never showed up for sword drills. At first this worried his parents, but worry slowly was replaced with frustration, and in a last ditch attempt for him to continue the line as a knight and renew his interest in swords, they decided to send him to this academy/whatever it is. He doesn't resent them for it, he understands why they did it, although he is a bit sad about it. He figures he'll give it his best shot and see whether being a knight is for him, or not.


Drives and motives:To be honest, Wyatt doesn't know what he wants, and that's what drives him to do everything he can to do...well anything that doesn't seem dumb to him.

 

[VainRochester]

Spoiler

Still a Work In Progress. Just testing the prettiness.

Halt!


It's boring to go alone!


Have some tunes!


[media]


​

[/media]



Name:


Dorothea "Thea" Hartmann Adler


Gender:


Female


Age:


17


Race:


Human/ European


If Human:


Appearance:


<p><a href="<fileStore.core_Attachment>/monthly_2014_04/1703866.jpg.4fe52b4bce60d4e9a25986e9dc58c0c6.jpg" class="ipsAttachLink ipsAttachLink_image"><img data-fileid="17111" src="<fileStore.core_Attachment>/monthly_2014_04/1703866.jpg.4fe52b4bce60d4e9a25986e9dc58c0c6.jpg" class="ipsImage ipsImage_thumbnailed" alt=""></a></p>


Red, flowing hair that could set fire even to the coldest of ice, and reddish-brown pupils that melt even the strongest of steel, she was meant to belong in an era of chaos and strife.


Due to her lack of expenses, her main armor that is made of defensive and working steel is her breastplate, pauldrons, gauntlets and a pair of greaves.


As her personality dictates, she refuses to wear heavier armor that may restrict her movement and reduce her freedom to move. She is also built with a strangely slender frame for a Landsknecht, and clunky armor ill suits her.


She is around 5'9", and weighing about 142 lbs.


Relic(if any):


Nope


Student or Mentor:


Student


Weapon:


A regular one-handed longsword coupled with a buckler.


Secondary Weapon:.


A Highland Claymore. Simple in design, simple in use, simple in claiming heads.


Social Class:


Mercenary; Once Noble


Province:


Black Mountains // Teuton (sort of)


Liege(if any):


None


Mount:


Landsknechts have some sort of feud with horses, and as such, cannot ride them properly. Thea is no different.


Social Class (if dragon, then explain family history/reason why they were chosen):


Mercenary; Once Noble


Family Description:

Spoiler

<p><a href="<fileStore.core_Attachment>/monthly_2014_04/The_Order_of_the_Sword_insignia.png.e675ac516f77d40c36caf57ed161349e.png" class="ipsAttachLink ipsAttachLink_image"><img data-fileid="17200" src="<fileStore.core_Attachment>/monthly_2014_04/The_Order_of_the_Sword_insignia.png.e675ac516f77d40c36caf57ed161349e.png" class="ipsImage ipsImage_thumbnailed" alt=""></a></p>


"We do not fall back, we do not retreat and we die standing, even when faced with the jaws of a dragon. We are Die Landsknechts, we are the sword. Allies, we protect, enemies, we crush. Death is our closest friend, we fear not He. Auf dem Land und mit dem Schwert kämpfen wir, auf dem Land und durch das Schwert sterben wir."


-Die Landsknechts Pledge


Kristoph Montgomery Eagler


C. 900


From the borders of Gallace, in the Black Mountains, there are sword-wielding mercenaries that pride themselves for their ability to wield their hallmark weapons. Whether they be ex-soldiers from Gallace or mercenaries or simply regular men and women who grew to match the standard, the Landsknechts are made of all sorts of gender, social castes and ages. All are renown for their fearsome swordplay, so much that the Teutonic Knights either want them amongst their fold or shun them completely so as to not anger one of their branch groups and end up on the receiving end of their blades.


The Landsknechts' way with the sword is balanced, focusing on putting as much offensive pressure as possible, while protecting their own. They are heavily based on teamwork, and, when hired by foreign parties, they are often in the frontlines, pushing so that their allies can get closer to their goal. When not hired individually, they are often found in groups of four, each covering the other on their weaknesses.


One in four Landsknechts are further classified as fearsome Doppelsoldners. The one rule that is slowly spreading through Gallace is "Doppelsoldners are the real deal. Do not confront a Doppelsoldner head-on.". Landsknechts can put up a fight, even when outnumbered, but they will eventually fall. However, Doppelsoldners, literally "Double Soldiers", are as their namesake implies. They are the elite force of the Landsknechts and are ALWAYS at the frontlines. While they do not act like elites, some dressing up as regular mercenaries and are generally usually seen as harmless, normal people, their ability on the field cannot be underestimated if one wishes to survive an encounter with them. When THEY are hired, it means that the side who hired them has stepped up their game, and, more often than not, just want to get this conflict over and done with.


Landsknechts and Doppelsoldners carry their own insignia emblazoned somewhere on their armor or shield. Regular Landsknechts have black insignias, while Doppelsoldners have red ones, to easier spot one. Whether they mean it as a threat, a sign for their enemies to run, or a warning, it is not known. The Landsknechts are divided into several 'families', each of them with their respective names and titles, but all of them carry the Landsknecht insignia.


The Landsknecht do not discriminate and accept any who wish to join them. It is through battle and survival that the bulk of the mercenaries are trained to be their best. When a new recruit has hardened enough by his or her experience, they will have a mock duel with a Doppelsoldner or a Landsknecht of some renown. If he or she manages to strike their higher ranked opponent once or parry and defend against their blows for thirty minutes, they are 'officially' considered one of the Landsknechts.


The Landsknechts are more or less faithless. As said, they do not really care who or what you are and what you believe in. If you're good enough, you're with them. If you're not up to standard, then you're pretty much dead before they accept you. Disputes are pretty much settled with petty challenges, such as number of heads taken, amount of gold bargained, etcetera. Duels to the death are uncommon, but once or twice, if one side really cannot handle the other, they occur.


The Adlers are no family. They are one of the groups that the Landsknechts have been divided into. It is made up of sixteen individuals, three of them being Doppelsoldners, one pending promotion to Doppelsoldner and the ten regular Landsknechts, and two pending Landsknechts. Their 'leader', though really, there's no such thing, is Jorgen (Yor-gen) Wilderwulf Adler, whose son Jorge (George) Wilderwulf Adler is the pending Doppelsoldner. Jorge is married to Amelia Stuttgard Adler, another Adler Doppelsoldner. They make their 'home' in the western Teuton lands, the Rolling Plains. Some Adler members have left to join the Teutonic Order, but often return to visit.


The Hartmann family were a noble family and landowners of a certain part in the Rolling Plains. They were besieged by Foresworn 11 years ago, and were killed. Their whole land was razed to the ground and destroyed, leaving nothing but ashes. The Adlers that came soon after found nothing that remained but a sole survivor that they raised. The survivor was enlisted at 14, and successfully attained her Landsknecht title at 15.


Personality:


"Do not worry, I have you covered. "


The classic example of a young Landsknecht. A calm, kind soul that doesn't seem as if she has carved her way through the ranks of Landsknecht and fought for her position in the mercenary organisation. Despite her upbringing, she is quite mild-mannered, speaking in calm, balanced words, the complete opposite of what most would expect from someone that thrived off battle and blood. Although it is given that she is the heir to the deceased Hartmann name, there is no question about her genuine pure heart.


As all Landknechts do, she hoists her shield and sword to defend her allies and obliterate the opposition completely. As long as she is ordered to do so, she will give her whole life just for a mission. However, like all mercenaries, a bit of coin might persuade her to go the longer distance, if one is not satisfied with her already peak-form performance. She now follows the 'orders' of the Academy only because her benefactor, Lord Hayther, is paying for her funds, and giving her payment for doing so. Her heart, however, still lies with the Adlers and the Landsknecht. If they tell her to leave, she will. Emotional attachments mean near nothing to her. As the saying goes: "Today, I will be your shield, but tomorrow, I may be your death.". No one ever said the path of the mercenary is ever straight.


She believes in freedom to do whatever she wants, and may sometimes directly disobey orders. In these cases, expect the reason for why she disobeyed to be extremely vital to her. A fellow Knight in danger and ordered to fall back? Not if her shield and body are still unbroken.


She, like every other Landsknechts, scare horses and sends them into a feeling of unsettledness. Maybe it's the smell of iron and blood from them. Whatever it is, Thea doesn't take kindly to horses and sees them as extra meat. Speaking of which, she has a rather voracious appetite for one so young and slender, and can easily devour a meal for three at a single sitting.


Best trait:


She possesses high emotional and physical endurance. She will carry you right to your objective if she could.


Worst trait:


Easily frustrated by things that seem easy to do, yet she can't seem to perform in them. Everyone's lucky she doesn't take out her frustration on them, but it seems that the training targets might need a replacement soon.


Soft Spot:


Anyone who is her comrade. She'll gladly help without question if asked.


Strengths:.


+She didn't receive the title of Landsknecht at 15 for nothing. Her swordplay is almost peerless.


+When she is issued an order, she will keep at it until whatever she was tasked to do is completed. Unless directly ordered to fall back, she will continue right down to her goal.


+Personality-wise, she is very difficult to rile up into a fight, almost bordering on impossible.


+Very servile, even to those below her own social caste, and willing to cooperate with anyone.


+Humble in victory; graceful in defeat


Weaknesses:


-Fails in every other weapon but the sword. She has no ability whatsoever in lances or bows or knives or whatever else.


-Her stubborness in trying to beat the odds gets her injured most of the time. Not that the injuries stop her, but they will, one day, do a number on her.


-Because of her inexperience and general lack of aptitude with horses, she has little experience with horseback riding and combat, and relies on infantry combat. As such, she lacks any proper mobility.


-Her high mental threshold hides an uncontrollable rage that will result in very angry outbursts that may or may not scratch people around her, to understate it heavily.


-Her passive attitude makes her more than just a bit servile towards others, including those under her social status. While this may be a good thing for for everyone interested, pushing her too far will result in the above. And you never know when you're in too far until it's too late.


-The only way to solve violence, for her, is more violence. Violence to end the violence.


Personal History (what affects them):


TLR version, be forewarned, reckless use of the word "shit" and other crass, informal words abound, im not going mince shit, so read as fast as you can, k?


So shit, it begins and stuff, and Dorothea Hartmann got born to some really rich guys in the Rolling Plains. They were landowners and shit and owned lands and were really rich. Then shit hit the fan when she was seven and the Foresworn killed off her whole family and town, when she was hidden away by her parents. The Adler mercenaries from the Landsknecht organisation came along, hired by the Teutons to help the town but they were too damn late, so they didn't get their money and shit. They did, however, find a young gal, and no prizes for guessing who she was see, I'm trying to go really fast, so why don't you fill up your own blanks.


Anyway, Dorothea Hartmann was brought up by this really cool mercenary dude Jorge and his wife Amelia, both of them being really cool with swords and all. They taught her how to wield a sword and let her watch them kill people and get money and stuff. She was like a daughter to them. And because of some dumb thing that made Amelia unable to conceive, she was basically totally really their daughter. Fast forward into the future a bit, Thea joined up to enlist in the Landsknecht. Blah blah blah, development, and then she gets into the Landsknechts.


Yay.


....


Oh you're still here.


Going on. One day, this really rich noble dude by the name of Julius Hayter came by, looking for the cool mercenary dude's cool mercenary dad, who was totally cool with his sword schwing schwing sch--


And Hayter was all like


[Actual non-TLR scene]


"Jorgen, she's a Hartmann. Their blood is the blood of a knight's."


"Of course it is. Have you seen her on the field? She's a bloody natural. Tell me, Hayter, why on Gallace should I let her out of my sight and let her go to some poppycock academy for rich snobs?"


"The Hartmanns were friends of mine. I am her rightful godfather. Don't I have a say in her upbringing?"


"Considering you were absent when her whole family died, I don't think so." Jorgen unsheathed his sword and directed it at the noble. "Hayter, if you don't give me a good reason why she should go to this fool academy, or you don't get the hell right out of our land, I swear your blood be on my soil."


Hayter drew his own blade. "Jorgen, can you ever hope to find it in your heart to believe me for once? I mean this child well. The blood of a Knight runs within her."


"Trust is like money, Hayter, hard to earn, easy to spend. You spent all of it before." Jorgen circled around Hayter, as the other man did the same, waiting for the other to attack. "As you can see, she is no mere child, not when the Wilderwulfs brought her up. She is a Landsknecht, a better swordsman than any of your Knights would be." Jorgen sprang forwards, sword poised to stab at Hayter.


"And what of her blood, Jorgen? You know as well as I do that the Teutons are not going to ignore her existence!" Hayter parried the blow, flicking his arm precisely to send Jorgen's blade wide, and returned the Doppelsoldner's strike with his own riposte.


"What of it?!" Jorgen stepped back, the tip of Hayter's sword barely nicking his cheek as he did. "What of the Teutons?! Neither I nor my family will live to see her be the bloodthirsty dogs of the Hochmeister, and by God, we will not let you poison her with your power-hungry toxic words!" Jorgen planted his boot on the ground, standing firm as Hayter lunged forwards. At the last second, Jorgen batted away his epee with his blade, grasped Hayter's throat, lifted him up and flung him onto the ground like a ragdoll in a space of a second. Before the latter could recover, Jorgen's sword was at his neck. Winded, and proven inferior to the old man, Hayter was undoubtedly defeated.


"Jorgen, haven't lost a step, eh?"


"It is not I that has gotten better. It is you who has not yet improved."


"Jorgen, at least, please, I plead with you. Let the Hartmann's wishes be fulfilled. Let her be part of the academy. She needn't join us in our cause, just to receive the title. That is all. After all this," Hayter coughed, still having problems catching his breath after every ounce of air in his lungs was knocked out of him, then continued, "she can come back as a Landsknecht. Maybe better. Maybe she could be a Doppelsoldner then. Wouldn't that satisfy you?"


Jorgen did not give any indication he heard his old friend, as he turned away to look at the young girl, whose red hair resembled the flames that burned down her home years ago. She, Jorge and Amelia had paused in their training, along with the other Adlers, to spectate the duel, no, complete and utter victory against Hayter.


"Wouldn't it please you, Jorgen, if she came back stronger than she is now?"


Jorgen drew in a breath, long and deep, then exhaled. He lifted his sword and spun around, striking down. Hayter saw his own eyes reflected back at him on the steel as the edge of the blade buried itself in the earth. Hayter got to his feet, brushing himself down, watching as Jorgen made his way across the dueling ring, calling to the Hartmann girl. Hayter sheathed his sword as Jorgen embraced Thea, speaking kindly to her as to where she was going. Hayter picked up Jorgen's sword, heavy as it is, and strode on over to the couple.


"--it and make grandfather proud."


"But what if I come back and you're not here?"


"Do you really think anything will knock old Jorgen down just like that? Thea, listen to me. This rat here will pay for your expenses, and offer you coin for participating. And what did we learn about money, Thea?"


"Never pass up a chance of free lunch."


"There you go." Jorgen straightened up and turned to look at Hayter, who lifted the other man's sword up. Jorgen took it from him without a word of thanks. Still glaring at Hayter, he spoke. "Stay for the night. Tomorrow, you embark for the academy with her."


[End not-TLR]


And that's how she got into the academy!


THE END


Drives and motives:


Every Landsknecht aspires to be a Doppelsoldner. No Landsknecht that ever lived a life of meritance settled for just their black insignias. Thea is no exception.


To hang the sword of Justice above the Foresworn's heads for their sins against her seems to be part of her drive to having accepted the deal to join the Academy. She is not terribly focused on vengeance, though she is quite intent on eradicating them.


She aspires more to be a mercenary than to be a Knight. There seems to be more chivalry at being a shield for the weak and getting paid for it, than to wear clunky armor and follow some religious sect.

 

[Syrenrei]

Name: Areynia Schwartzenacht


Gender: Female


Age: 17


Race: Human





Appearance:

At no more than 5'5" and 110 lbs. dripping wet, Areynia doesn't exactly look threatening. She has lackluster brown hair and brown eyes, with a slightly foreign look to her in the shape of her eyes, and would be quite lovely if she wasn't always... well, so her.








Relic(if any):


Staff of the Stolen Frost


This tall staff was initially made out of wood, then covered in a strong metal of unknown origin, and finally encased with smaller fragments of dragon scales carefully pieced together near the top. At the apex is a crystalline orb tinted blue and partially covered by a larger fragment of a white dragon scale, that wraps from the base of the orb, up one size, and to the top.


Student or Mentor: Student





Weapon:


Staff of the Stolen Frost (see above) can be used for combat. As a priestess, Areynia truly hopes she doesn't have to get up close and personal with anyone; she'd prefer to stay in the background with her spells at if all possible.


Secondary Weapon:


A sword carried on her hip that has seen little to no use. It's dubious whether or not she's ever used or practiced with the thing, but she has been told she should carry two different means of protection.


Social Class: Priestess of Eesna


Province: Teutonic Province


Liege(if any): N/A


Mount:

Mount Name: Enigma


Mount Personality:


Enigma appears to be a wild horse that is barely able to be ridden by Areynia. Given her inability to do much of anything well, this is somewhat disturbing on many accounts. Enigma is docile until ridden and then tries to challenge the authority of the rider, often resulting in mistreatment. For all her faults, Areynia is firm with Enigma and earned the stallion's respect.


Social Class: 3rd daughter to a noble house, she appears affluent but has given her life to be a servant of Eesna


Family Description:


As Areynia tells it, her father was a typical overbearing warrior and her mother was not much better. If her children had not shackled her to responsibilities of the home, the wild woman would have taken up arms with her husband and displayed their prowess in battle for all the world to see. Unfortunately for her mother, they were so fruitful that she was obligated to help in the raising of her many (seven) children. Areynia is the third eldest and has a horse, Enigma, that she inherited from her family and uses for travel.





Personality:


It is no small wonder that Areynia not only stumbled into the faith and following of Eesna, but was accepted! She is wonderfully kind and friendly with all she meets, but comes across as nearly inept at many great feats she attempts. There are children with better use of a sword, she frequently trips over her own two feet, stares off into space in the middle of eating, and sometimes forgets what she is saying halfway through a sentence. The only time she shines is when she incites prayers and works with the temple to create new, more potent 'spells' for others to use. She has yet to reap the wild success she dreams of, but that doesn't appear to be slowing her down. At all.


Best trait: Courageous


Worst trait: Absent-minded & clumsy


Soft Spot:


Areynia will do just about anything for a story or a book. She has a personal library in her quarters that can barely be carried on her horse and she is often found mulling over her tomes by herself time and time again.


Strengths:


Steadfast determination & stamina (especially for such a small girl)


Weaknesses:


Lacks any sort of physical strength, oblivious to many things that don't concern her, ignorant of some the finer points of culture (such as art, dancing, etc.)





Personal History (what affects them):


Since Areynia was small, she knew she was not destined to be a great warrior like her parents and siblings. They possessed physical traits that seemed to have passed her over entirely and so she waited and sought for a way to prove her worth. The three deities had all appealed to her in their own different ways, but the intellectual angle of Eesna pleased her the most. From a young age she began to walk by herself to the temple to study and pray and soon it became apparent that she would find a place there instead of in a set of armor. Her parents were (of course) disappointed but eager to 'off' themselves of a child that truly had no place in Teutonic culture. She was sent to the academy to practice her 'magic' and to help encourage students to find faith in Eesna as their 'peer.' It's dubious she could inspire anyone, however! She is on good terms with Lifrus Ofrus, who tries to overlook her numerous shortcomings, and she ignores his 'heretic' label. It seems that the lovely priestess can befriend just about anyone even if she fails in most other tasks.


Drives and motives:


Areynia [foolishly] believes she is of service to her goddess and that she will eventually contribute to the spells that are known and called on by her order.

 

[Emperor Shadow IV]

Name:


Urial de Molay





Gender:


Male





Age:


19





Race:


Human





Appearance:


<p><a href="<fileStore.core_Attachment>/monthly_2014_08/Knight.jpg.72133092e51883cbe1a08e60f217c853.jpg" class="ipsAttachLink ipsAttachLink_image"><img data-fileid="27758" src="<fileStore.core_Attachment>/monthly_2014_08/Knight.jpg.72133092e51883cbe1a08e60f217c853.jpg" class="ipsImage ipsImage_thumbnailed" alt=""></a></p>


He stands exactly 6' tall, skinny yet muscular, and with a roughly estimated weight of 145 lbs. Jet black hair, gray eyes, and his face is fairly lean and pointed. Though tall, his legs make up the majority of his height, while his upper torso is shorter. His hands are notably large as well, earning him the nickname "Beaumains."

Spoiler

Relic:


None





Student


KNIGHTHOOD:


Templar


Primary Weapons:

Spoiler

<p><a href="<fileStore.core_Attachment>/monthly_2014_08/Estoc.jpg.162183b3c7e78dec58e76f6143e4c86e.jpg" class="ipsAttachLink ipsAttachLink_image"><img data-fileid="27427" src="<fileStore.core_Attachment>/monthly_2014_08/Estoc.jpg.162183b3c7e78dec58e76f6143e4c86e.jpg" class="ipsImage ipsImage_thumbnailed" alt=""></a></p>


An Estoc, 46 inch. Worn at the right hip.

Parrying dagger.

Secondary Weapon:

Spoiler

A flanged mace.

Spoiler

Steel Buckler.

Province:

Spoiler

A larger Templar city located on a wide swath of land jutting out and overhanging the sea. Intentionally built as a fortress, Pèlerin's walls are doubly thick and reinforced, designed specifically to repel ammunition hurled from artillery. It is a city of amazement and wonders to behold.


<p><a href="<fileStore.core_Attachment>/monthly_2014_08/57a8c031d5fb0_Citylayoutgeneralidea.jpg.17cf651ba4f2ba08421311fab984a166.jpg" class="ipsAttachLink ipsAttachLink_image"><img data-fileid="27760" src="<fileStore.core_Attachment>/monthly_2014_08/57a8c031d5fb0_Citylayoutgeneralidea.jpg.17cf651ba4f2ba08421311fab984a166.jpg" class="ipsImage ipsImage_thumbnailed" alt=""></a></p>


City Layout (General Idea)


The city boasts a mighty cathedral dedicated to Flamberge, and many of the land's finest sword smiths gather here to pursue their craft. It's also a hot spot for pilgrims, though on occasion gypsies will dare to make a living off the streets. Few have ever succeeded or lasted more than a handful of days before their heads rolled off the chopping block.


(may add more)


Liege:


None


Mount:

Mount Name:


Raphael


Mount Personality:


A proud and noble beast with a temper. It takes a skillful rider to keep Raphael under control, for at times the beast is ticked off rather easily. He isn't much of a loving or nurturing companion, and lives primarily, or so it would seem, to gallop and eat.


Even despite his shortcomings Urial feels attached to his mount, and Raphael's speed and strength are boast-worthy indeed.


Social Class:


Nobility - the Marshall's son.


Family Description:

The de Molays are a high ranking family of the Templar order, with hundreds of years of history supporting them and upholding their title of honor. For centuries the duty of Templar Marshall has fallen to the head of the family, and this tradition, or should we say pattern, continues to this day.


In general the family is religious and devoted to the order, with a heart for the needy and disdain for atheists. Chivalry is principle and morals must be upheld to each individual's greatest power. To defy the laws of Chivalry, honor, or religion is punishable by banishment from the de Molays. They're strict and self-righteous people, but they also tend to be very proud - in part due to their noble heritage. Members of the family have, in fact, become too far caught up in themselves and their own self-righteousness, and as a result have forged a religion befitting to only themselves. This heresy is fairly common in the family's roots, where Flamberge becomes the chief deity in their lives and self-indulgence is in turn acceptable. Because of its historical tendency to ensnare multiple de Molays, not all practitioners of this false, self-pleasing heresy have been banished, for the family politics are thick with controversial opinions.


Urial lacks care for over half of his very large family, the third of six children with enough extended relatives to fill an entire mess hall. He has followed his own ways nearly since birth, with little care for what anyone other than his father or mother thinks.


Personality:


Urial is an obstinate youth with little care for anyone or anything. He prefers to trail blaze his own paths and follow his own decisions without any consulting opinion or persuasion, and doesn't take kindly to authority or other obstinate individuals. He lacks charisma and faith, a sod when it comes to his own religion, with faltering optimism and inspiration. Few people in the world are actually looked up to by him, and just as few are admired and respected to the utmost by Urial. It's this hard shell and pessimistic attitude he has that generally wards off anyone who might approach him; and if anyone isn't warded off at first by the shell, they will be once they break their back trying to crack it. So he thinks at least, for he can be harsh on himself too - a critic through and through.


In a more positive light, Urial has great courage. Nothing phases or strikes fear in him, and he'll take any challenge gladly and head on. His stubbornness can also be for the better on occasion, as he will hold steadfast to his ideals and morals without falter, and it'll fuel his courageousness. He's actually rather loud and will state his opinion openly when he has the mind to. And, surprising as it is, Urial can be exceptionally kind and caring (even if it's selective).


Best trait:


His courage and fortitude.


Worst trait:


Pessimism and lack of charisma.


Soft Spot:


The poor and children.


Strengths:


Fearlessness, agility, and physical strength.


Weaknesses:


Obstinate nature, lack of faith, lack of charisma, and tuberculosis.


Personal History:


Urial's father, the current Marshall, was a hard and expecting man. He had expectations set for each of his children, and the better those proceeding the others did, the harder he bore down on those succeeding their predecessors. In short, with each accomplishment of his older siblings, more was expected of Urial. Not only this, but his mother was so preoccupied with the other children and members of the massive de Maloy household that Urial, as small as he was, grew disdainful and distant from most everyone.


Urial's father, such an honored and distinguished man, was, despite his hard attitude towards his son, one of the few people the boy respected and truly admired. He found he'd do anything for his father, so long as it pleased him. These affections, however, rebounded Urial's emotions and made him even more distant towards the rest of the family. If you weren't worthy of high praise Urial wanted little to do with you. He would only follow this with instant respect, even in despite of the kindness others would show him.


Eventually as years drew on, Urial grew up from being a boy and tried to fine-tune his personality. The disdain for his family that had grown in him was losing his mind to inner despair, and to try and remedy this, he made time for charitable deeds. At first they were nothing more than excuses to relieve his mind of burden or to tell himself that he was doing good, but as time expanded, Urial found legitimate enjoyment from being with the poor. And in addition to this he trained more rigorously in the ways of combat and horse riding, finding anew his father's pleasure. This found him with a new ambition to rise up and be a person of the world - to be someone acknowledged and powerful.


Drives and motives:


Urial wishes to become something in the world that he cares so little for. He wishes to ascend to a height where he may look down at the people who surround him and be acknowledged, be a proven part of the Templar society and a regarded figure with purpose in life.


@Killigrew

 

[Jays]

Name: Rahl'Dazz (pronounced Rha-al Das-z)


Gender: Male


Age: 167 (Human equivalent: 23)


Race: Dragon


Human Form:

Description:

Muscular in form, Ra'daz cuts an imposing figure upon others, especially with the height of 6'3 and heavily built. His hair, unlike the traditional crimson of other Fire dragons, are also streaked with brown and gray. He constantly has a scowl on his face no matter his mood, which most of the time is NOT grumpy as it seems to be. He also lacks the heat emitting from his body as others of his kind, only slightly warmer than normal human body heat. He has catlike eyes that glow red in the dark. His skin is caucasian, ears a little pointed.

Dragon Form:

Description:

Considered only average size among dragons, his most significant trait is the large amount of spikes sprouting from all over his body, forming a protective armor. His scales are also less red than traditional Fire dragons. His wings are also thicker than normal standard.


Element: Fire


Weapon: Grows dragon pikes out of his body even if in human form.


Social Class:

Not so young as to need guidance, but also not nearly as old enough as to hold important standing among the dragons, Ra'daz is perharps mostly insignificant except for his special bloodline. For that, he represents a rare group of mountain dragons, carrying in himself the legacy that needed to be preserve.

Family Description:

Ra'daz was a fire dragon, but unlike others, he carried the blood of the line of Rahl, decendent of a Great Mountain Dragon. Born among the rocky treacherous cliffs of the West, his legacy manifested as the significant number of spikes covering his body and wickedly sharp claws, while his fire heritage was less present.

Personality:

Ra'daz, having the blood of fire dragon, has all the temper and passion of one, though less pronounced than most. He, not understanding the human way, does not take kindly to jokes and affectionate touches. He's not violence in nature, even when provoked, but he'd take an insult to the grave if he hadn't repay that and some more already.


Best trait:

He has a good hold over his emotions, and being a fire dragon, his emotions regularly go haywire, but he had learned to use them rather than letting them use him. He might be furious, but he would use that rage to fuel his strength instead of charging head on.

Worst trait:

Nonforgiving, and would find the most embarassing way to take revenge on you.

Soft Spot:

Horses. He can get furious if you hit your mound. Loves horses, but they all cringe as soon as they get a scent of him, so can never ride one.

Strengths:

It's hard for him to lose his cool, and he can shift between form faster than any dragon.

Weaknesses:

Shortsighted, not able to make long term plans, clumsy with human weapons, and eats as much as one and a half dragon. If he doesn't get his belly fulled he gets seriously grumpy.

Personal History:

The Foresworn war broke out when Ra'daz turned 45, merely close to Drakehood. As the dragons declared war upon the Foresworn, his parents, leader of a clan of 30 dragons of the West, followed the call, and tragically never returned from the battlefield. Their leaders dead and their successor only a Drake, the rest of the clan having no faith in Rahl, deserted him, scattering throughout the land. All alone on the rough terrain of the mountains, with little to eat and even less dragons to interact with, Ra'daz lived a hard life, straying ever further from the traditional way of his kind and struggling to stay alive, never considered leaving the mountains where he was born. At the point of near starvation, he found the first human he had seen, a small village at the foot of the mountain. He made a frequent habbit of disguising himself as dragon and stole food from the town folks. At last, the sight of a young man visiting their town regularly but never seemed to age over the decades tipped them off, and Rahl was driven away,

Tired of his own kindom with nothing but rocks and tiny half-starved animals, he at last started to travel, avoiding human settlements and roaming the land in human form during the day. Only after a few decades that he was discovered by another dragon, who brought his presence to the Elders' attention, and only then did he truely learned of his special legacy. He was chosen as replacement for Nozz'Onn for the more benevolent nature and expendibilit.


Drives and motives: To find the true meaning of the war, and to see whether or not human are worthy of the sacrifice the dragons, including his parents, had made.

 

[Hippopotamus]

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