Fantasy From Once There Was. [Accepting]

[Euclid Leaf]

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Character Applications & Information​

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The Knights of Dusk are a venerated order that has existed ever since the God of Sunlight had created and nestled the golden Flameheart into the sky centuries ago. The massive beacon, practically an artificial sun, exudes the sacred light necessary to deter the Fallen and prevent the ever-growing darkness from consuming the very last kingdom in existence. Knowing they cannot protect everyone at once, the Aspects gathered followers and helpers to their cause, enlisting their chosen into the honored knighthood and their auxiliary branches. To uphold the dying lineage of the Cardinal, this is a knight's noble purpose and fate.


There are three main chapters are as follows:


The Knights of Dusk; the namesake of the order and most numerous, the knights are valiant warriors who face the wretched Fallen that threaten the borders of the dusty castle-state Ciro. Their most precious tools are their heart and body, their most trusted weapons being simple faith and valiance. Of course their function goes beyond that. Trained in a martial form that draws from a school of Arcana, a melee 'Style' is derived. This results in fluent casting that compliments their more physical-based prowess, as apposed to their than ranged counterparts. Some examples are coating a blade in fire or erecting small earthen walls on the battlefield.


The Circle of Maegus; scholars who research Aether and had formulated the knowledge upon which the art-forms of Aether were designed themselves. Members of this field specialize in learning the inner workings of Arcana, and as a result, are able to cast more intricate spells through the use of 'Runes', ancient symbols imbued with power. Though this usually requires a lengthy set-up time, their arcana features extensive range and wide areas of effect. Their focus on learning and perfecting form has left them more frail than the others, but don't let this fool you. Sources possess strength and speed many times more potent than ordinary people due to their kindled Soul, trained or not.


The Institution of Alchemy; comprising of those who toil away with metal and crystals, repairing and mimicking the impressive technologies of the past. Their experimentation is similar to the Circle of Maegus, but Alchemists lack the affinity to Aether as the others do, using what little they have to harness their equipment. As a result, Alchemists dabble more with objects that imbued with traces of Aether, dubbed 'Catalysts', rather than the living essence itself and are often regarded as the engineers of the order. While these often yield devastating results, the power conduits need to be recharged periodically in order to be made of use.[/border]

• The Price for Power
• Those Who Remain...
• Schools of Arcanus

• 
  
  
  Aether and the 'link' that the Cardinals used to possess with this living essence has declined drastically since the apocalyptic Eclipse. Once something that can be pulled from all around, can only be pulled from deep within; the Soul. Since this type of Aether is more complicated and difficult to use, and due to the 'Gift of Gods' fading away, only a 'flicker' can activate this dormant 'source'. Emotions are a central in the method of invoking such miracles, and being able to control them. Only by drawing from strong and powerful emotions can one manifest the Aether produced within one's Soul, the intention being the other half by which to control the effects. As such, a 'flicker', otherwise an event of trauma or intense emotion is needed to spark the ancient power within.
  
  
  Those who are able to use such powers do so with a price.
  
  
  To create the destructive spells by which to maim 'The Fallen', one must call upon intense emotions, hatred and spite being prime ingredients. A vessel of emotion and thought, the act of killing and witnessing death never leaves the Soul. First is the toll to the mind, then slowly, the body begins to change. As though reflecting their waning mentality, the negative Aether building up within begins to transform these individuals.
  
  
  Blackened eyes and blood, malignant growths, and with severe cases, extreme bone structural reformation; these are all common side effects of the Demonization process. Named after the similar transformation of ghosts into evil and malicious spirits, souls who cannot pass on to the afterlife due to unresolved wishes and attachments to this world.
  
  
  Soon enough, these warriors become what they strive so long to fight. This horrendous finality is what makes the populous of this world both fear and praise any such sources and their powerful gift.
  
  
  To fight this world's monsters, one must make a sacrifice. Their humanity.
  
  
  
• 
  
  
  Several of the Cardinal races and bloodlines have been lost, either destroyed during the War of Crowns, or hunted mercilessly in the dark tide of the Eclipse. Those who survived are nowhere near being blessed. The remnants Cardinals are but a shadow of their former selves, many of which, live in harsh conditions underneath the tremendous castle-state known as Ciro. Very few can still draw power from Aether, but those who can are referred in honor to as 'Sources', and are fervently sought after to be enlisted into the Order of Dusk.
  
  
  Humanity; Once a grand and powerful people, the descendants of this race have long forgotten their lineage and mantle. The glorious nation that stretched from sea to sea now lies rotting in the darkness, their prized relics and knowledge lost and forgotten. As many of the other Cardinals, the gift of gods has slowly drained from their blood, and for centuries now, have spent their lives praying for protection from the living 'Gods', hobbling in constant fear of the Fallen who hunt all life outside the walls. Though reduced to a pale vestige of their former glory, humans are a hardy race, and though often selfish, history has shown that when banded together they are capable of practically anything.
  
  
  Xanara; A race that some say were once actually human, who dedicated their lives to protecting the lush groves and forest surrounding the World Tree. Their time with nature has shifted their appearance to mix with that of the wild, some bearing fangs and ears like a wolf and others scales like a lizard. While their numbers are drastically lower than that of other races, they possess naturally robust physical traits. Though prone to work on instinct rather than thought, they are renown for exotic talents and making great adventurers. In their time away from their homelands, many have devolved to appear more like their human counterparts, though many still retain their animistic characteristics.
  
  
  
  
  
  Fae'il; No information of the race can be pulled from recent history, the mythical people having withdrew from the world many years ago. A few olden tales tell of their graceful beauty and absolute dominance over Aether, being the ones who created the enigmatic and chaotic landmass known as the Shattered Isles. Only on very rare days, and then, only for very brief moments, can their magnificent floating castle be seen hovering like a needle in the clear sky. A place untouched by darkness.
  
  
  
• 
  
  
  It is said that Aether existed before the Gods awoke. They used this essence to create life and the universe, and thus, it is very the force of creation itself.
  
  
  The revered essence has been a major point of interest since the beginning of our prolonged history. Control over the knowledge and use of Aether has caused both the rapid rise and fall of our grand civilizations. Once an ability used by all, the current strain of Aether pales in comparison to our ancestors, both of the trait itself fading from our bloodlines, and plain ignorance, places containing such knowledge razed and forgotten through the ruthless ages.
  
  
  Due to sources drawing from power harbored within their Souls, conduits of emotion, the appearance of Aether may differ from person to person. While these quirks are mostly cosmetic, there have been rare cases of augmented or changed effects. Only a few have been witnessed in the passing centuries. Basic forms of harnessed Aether generally materializes as one of the core elements. More experienced users are able to combine these elements together to create more complicated forms and uses. The Schools of Arcanus, while ancient and more proper teachings have been lost, with the divine knowledge endowed within each of the Aspects, they have been reformed and gradually updated as more is uncovered from ruins.
  
  
  Ingis (fire), Ventus (air), Kori (ice), and Terra (earth), are fields of Arcana centered around direct combat, while users of Lunaris(moon) focuses on blessing(buffing) and healing. Intent plays a large role on how Aether is used, such as violent thoughts instigating destructive forces or more calm emotions forming protective barriers of wind, for example.
  
  
  There were once dozens of specialized schools, advanced forms of Arcana, but many of their teachings and methods have been lost in the chaotic ages. The sole specialized school remaining is Alchemy, an alternate form of Terra, which focuses more on Metalworking and use of catalysts, artificial and natural sources of Aether.
  
  
  The rarest forms of Arcana are 'Ancient Bloodlines', special abilities passed down genetically. Only those belonging to one the noble families possess such traits, considered to possess the oldest link of human ancestry.
  
  
  
  
  
  None of your characters will possess any of these (Ancient Bloodlines), sorry! Maybe in the future?
  
  
  A side note: due to their kindling of the Soul, most sources no longer bleed blood when wounded, but rather Aether itself. Naturally, they have a layer of Aether imbued in their skin that makes them more resistant to damage, think of it like a magical force-field or sorts! 'Blood' could simply be streaks of fire, as per for someone who has affinity to Ignis, but feel free to make one up!
  
  
  

-Character Sheets-

(This is just a basic skeleton to use. Feel free to make the sheet look like whatever you want! I have no real preference over the matter. Just don't make it hard to read, please! Important Note; in order to maintain the central 'Grim' theme of this RP, and my wish to make a dynamic experience, any and all decisions will have meaningful impact. Act poorly and your character will be punished in one way or another. Too many mistakes might even result in death. You have been warned.)


Name/Alias:


Age:


Race: (Human or Xanara.)


Appearance: (A short description is necessary, a picture is purely optional but is always a good addition. I prefer if you were using images that they be illustrated or drawn pictures, for the sake of theme. Anime or realistic, is fine, but NO photos of real people. Sorry!)


Personality: (Doesn't have to be long.)


Chapter: (Knight, Maegus, or Alchemist.)


Aether/Arcana: (Skip for Alchemists, unless wishing to create a character who uses Arcana Alchemy. PM for more info.)(A description of what your character Aether's appears manifested into the physical world. This could be anything from streams of pink colored fire, to hazy smoke plumes flowing from their body when blessing their bodies with extra power. Refer to the tab above called 'Schools of Aracanus' for additional information.


If anyone has any questions regarding unique ideas, run them by me and I will try to work it into the lore and setting.)


Weapons/Special items: ('Special Items' is for Alchemists, who are known to have a large array of machines they employ for battle, ranging from flame propelled armor pieces, to their infamous 'arcane weaponry', armaments capable of utilizing concentrated beams of destructive Aether. Quick and powerful, but taxing to the user.)


Backstory: (The usual.)


Miscellaneous Information: (whatever final comments you want to make about your character.)

 

[Euclid Leaf]

[border]-GM Characters-[/border]

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Mikhael, the Ghost Knight

"I will do what it takes to cleanse this world of the Fallen... at any cost."


Race: Human

Gender: Male

Age: Unknown

Chapter: Knight Attendant, Crown Guard.

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Personality: An dignified member of the Knights of Dusk, he is well-known for his list of lofty achievements despite such youth, especially that of being promoted to the elite section knights known as the Crown Guard, direct attendants to the Gods themselves. But this respect is mostly garnered out of fear. He is a man shrouded in contradicting rumors and mystery, even among his peers. What little known about Mikhael is that of a rather candid and expressionless man, almost as though he lacks anything like emotions at all. Darker rumors tell of a faceless phantom roaming the night, a harbinger of destruction whom holds no mercy to all who possess the taint of corruption. A man of few words, yet of extreme and unreserved honesty, when Mikhael does speak, it is to only to express displeasure about something or to pursue his personal goals. All which seem amounting to nothing more than the purification of the Fallen and all other monsters that terrorize this world. The sinuous layers of scarring that ripple across his pale body speak more than any words of his dedication to such an endeavor.


Even though he is a novice Knight, in terms of years, Mikhael shows little respect to authority and commands from higher-ups, often doing things only accordingly to his own judgement. The only person who he seems to show any regard is the young Goddess of Moon herself.

​

Aether/Arcana: Understanding the malignant effects of Aether, Mikhael chooses only to use his powers when pushed to the limit. This has never been observed once by anyone living in Ciro, so his abilities themselves are a mystery. But some claim to feel a ghostly chill as he passes. Otherwise, he is shown to be an excellent melee combatant, with a distinct keenness to using blades and swords. Those who have seen him in combat show concern about the way in which he moves and deals his attacks; like a rampaging monster, without a single shred of mercy.

Weapon(s)/Special Equipment:

Spoiler

The most peculiar of his belongings, which are littered with bizarre tools and trinkets pointing to any experienced warrior trained to fight the supernatural, is an intricate metal armament adorned over his left arm. The quality and design could only be possible at the hands of a master blacksmith, made of extremely rare dark mithril, which only states his importance to the Order of Dusk. The piece of armor appears to be a prestigious relic of some sorts, a profound collection of ornate plates and intricate decorations that are held together by large shackles and chains. Numerous Seals and talismans scribbled with strange lettering hang from the metal and strewn underneath are a network of diagrams and symbols.

Those who do not understand the ancient runic language might find these figures nonsensical, but sources who have educated themselves would quickly come to the chilling realization that this armor is not only enchanted by Aether to protect, but to confine and restrict.

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Backstory:

Spoiler

The God of Sunlight cannot change human nature, nor does his watchful gaze see all, especially this far below the castle grounds.


Born within the overpopulated slums in the dusty city of Ciro, much like countless other orphans, he was conceived only to be sold away as hands to the wealthy nobles for food and money. The young child knew nothing of a 'home' or 'family', let alone what it meant to be 'human' growing up. He was treated merely as property. Lives there were a dime a dozen and he was always forced to compete with the other children to prove he was worth living or starved to death. His existence was made only more difficult as it seemed an air of misfortune followed behind the boy. Every one of the owners who acquired him would die mysteriously afterwards. Soon enough, no one would dare deal with the 'cursed child' and he was cast away to fend for himself in the musky shanty towns. The wild orphan did whatever he could to survive alone on the harsh streets, stealing and eating rotten scraps, making home within the filth and shadows.


It wasn't until he was found by the state's guardsmen standing above the mutilated bodies of a pitiful animal and a few delinquents, the alleyway scorched and his eyes burning with rage, did his life take a turn towards a higher purpose.


However, instead of being taken into custody, the young youth had garnered the interest of the Goddess of the Moon herself.


... And the rest is well, *Spoilers!*

"You want to know something about my past? Don't bother. I didn't spend so much time burying it for just my own sake."

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Miscellaneous Information:


Mikhael appears to have a liking to the rain, much to the chagrin of the housekeepers. When a bout of downpour arrives upon the land, the young man is frequently seen leaving the castle to stand outside in the open sky. He remains meandering about in silence for hours, only to return drenched and leaving behind puddles in the hallways.

Kashiro, the Naive Dreamer

Race: Human/Xanara, Wolf-kin


Gender: Male


Age: 15


Chapter: Maegus, Squire


Aether/Arcana:


Lunaris; his aether reflects this kind and helping nature, emerging from his palms as beams of warm moonlight that can be used for healing wounds and hindering the Fallen.


Short History:


Born with both Human and Xanaran blood coursing through his veins, the hybrid child has always watched the world with large curious eyes. Raised within the warm and accepting community in the Inner Rings of Ciro, he was sheltered from the cold and ruthless world that surrounded him. This resulted in Kashiru developing a sincere, albeit naive character. He has never once tried to harm another living being, and even accidentally stepping on bugs beings him to tears. Because of his dual lineage, he saw the two people as one whole rather than two separate pieces. Acquiring Humanity's love for exploration and unknown, alongside the tremendous empathy that is dwells within the Xanara. Kashiro captures this nature in his absolute love for knowledge, though his lack of confidence and doubt stops him from assuming the role directly, always watching from the sidelines. The event that triggered his powers was when he was out exploring the third of Outer Rings when he came upon a scene that he could never forget. From the safety of the shadowed alleyway, he watched in stunned horror as a mixed family much like his own were tortured and brutalized by a party of members from a fanatic cult, who thought their love for each other was beyond sacrilege and deserved to suffer for their sins. He did not understand the reason for such hate. Perhaps he was still young, and that the world has not broken him yet?


Still, what he felt was not rage, but pity and sorrow.


These feelings rung true in the boy, a flicker kindling his soul. Since that day, Hashiru had pursued his goals, wishing nothing more than to create a world where everyone is joined together and happy.

...

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[Deccimo]

Crag, the Plague Advent

Age: 18

Race: Human

Chapter: Maegus

​

Appearance:


Crag’s countenance is mostly androgynous, which is attributed to his unceasing smile and his eyes that never see the light of day. Long white strands of hair that curl at the tips conceal most of the boy’s caput, leaving only his unnerving expression visible. His skin is just as pale as his hair, reminiscent of a sickly albino, and from what you can see, remains free of scars and stress.


Clothing wise, he sports a traditional Han Fu that has had a large collar affixed to it, which remains upturned at all times. The robe is predominately purple with accents of black swirls at the seams. A beige rope belt is fastened tightly around his waist, holding the vestment in place even during movement.


Personality:


Contrary to the single expression his face shows, Crag is a myriad of different quirks and eccentricities; simply put he’s a bit of an estranged lunatic. Despite his indifference to practically everything, he understands the role he must uphold as a Knight of Dusk, thus he will protect the innocent, slay the Fallen, and yada yada. Whether this was his innate personality or the result of some extreme trauma, only he will tell… and most likely prevaricate.


Aether/Arcana:


Crag’s aether manifests as plumes of dense white smoke that exude from the orifices of the boy’s body, typically from his maw and the pores of his limbs; emanating from the openings of his robe. As these depraved clouds dissipate they transmogrify into the skeletal visages of the damned that seem to give out a silent cry before finally vanishing out of existence. The evanescence of these defiled beings truly bring out the sheer disturbia that is Crag’s eternal grin. Similarly to how his aether is manifested, whenever a blow is struck to Crag’s being, the same decrepit clouds will seep out from the wounded area.


Accordingly, the Arcana that Crag cultivates in is Ventus. His primary focus in his studies is the use of poisonous gases and their morbid effects on beings. Be wary both friend and foe as these substances are just as volatile as Crag’s own mind.


Weapons/Special items:


Hidden beneath his loose clothing are a plethora of runic tattoos that leave no inch of his body untouched, save for his face and hands. These have been inscribed onto him throughout the years, whenever he has finalized a new research. He uses these marks to summon his various poisonous clouds with ease and little downtime. Crag does carry a thick leather notebook in which he scribes his studies of the various toxins he has experimented with, which may also count as a weapon in it's own right.


Backstory (according to Crag):


"I was taken from my quaint little abode at a young age when it was pillaged by a group slavers, obviously trying to take advantage of the ongoing battle against the Fallen. Being the crafty child I was, I rose the ranks from an indentured servant to being the runt of the gang. They took to me very quickly, and I was even heavily favored by one of the leaders, I was practically their adopted son!"


"However at some point, mysterious deaths began to occur within the group, and all the evidence seemed to pin me as the perpetrator. I was sentenced to brutal punishment and torture by my so called second family, but the mystery only got increasingly convoluted because the murders actually continued. Speaking of torture, have you ever tried the iron maiden, it fixed my posture real fast! Back to the main topic though, yes, eventually the true culprit was found, and it was none other than my mentor! I actually don't remember whether they were a father or mother figure at this point sadly. The mental strain this placed on poor little ole me along with the excruciating torture, caused my first release of Aether. Boy were they all surprised, and dead in seconds! Luckily for me, the spark had been lit."


"Dramatic pause"


"Years passed and I eventually found my place within the ranks of the Circle of Maegus."

 

[Spacing Out]

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Requisite

" The gods rules us still. They will come from the heavens and they will no longer be kind. "

NAME


Lady Seraphina Aeritheos


NICKNAME


Sera, Lady Sif


AGE


25


GENDER


Female


RACE:


Human


SEXUALITY


Bi-curious


OCCUPATION:


Knights of Dusk

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Appearance

"Look at me. Look at my face. it's the last thing you'll see before you die."

Eye color:


Stormy Grey eyes


Hair color:


Brunette


Skin color:


Fair


HEIGHT & WEIGHT


5'6/126lbs


PHYSIQUE


Hourglass figure but just says that all the weight goes to her bottom half.

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Persona

Seraphina is A brave, resourceful and practical woman . She is extremely loyal to her country, and will usually, but not always, do what her superiors asks her to. She is also very selfless and modest, as she puts herself at colossal personal risks to help fellow comrades,Rather sceptical about her ideals. She is very sarcastic and has an erratic sense of humour. She is also very religious knowing every scripture and prayer from the holy book.


Though she shows selfless personality traits she is still manipulative, devious, enigmatic, and clever. Sera can be ruthless, cold and fierce at times but showed emotional intelligence towards the likes of certain people.On certain occasions, if A person seems worthy she would flirt with them out of boredom but would never want to go far with their relationship.


FEARS


-Dementophobia- Fear of insanity.


-Atychiphobia- Fear of failure.

​

Background

BACKGROUND

WIP

SECRETS

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Weapons

My Sword and Shield are my greatest weapons but my fists are just as effective."
​

• Double bladed sword: Sif's signature weapon of choice is a double-bladed sword. One of the two blades is retractable, allowing for Sif to fight with a single-blade.Wielded as a pair, these weapons complement Sera's fighting style, allowing her to balance fighting ability while remaining protected from a variety of enemy attacks. During combat the sword is capable of changing form into a staff-like weapon with two identical sword-blades bound at the center by a single handle.
  
• Shield:To complement her swordplay, Sif carries a small, versatile, heater-shaped shield to counter others' attacks and protect herself in battle. Being made as a pair, the shield contains a scabbard for Seraphina's swords. Forged from a sturdy metal, it can defend against a variety of attacks, but is not impervious to damage. When Sera travels, she keeps her sword and shield together bound to her back, while in battle, she will carry the pair on her arm, ready to draw the sword if needed.
  
• Combatant: Sera is an excellent combatant and has received extensive training in unarmed combat and swordsmanship, Through years of experience (and likely a few close calls), she became a master at hand-to-hand CQC (close-quarters-combat) and, on more than one occasion, she was able to out-maneuver and defeat other experienced combatants.While being capable of taking on opponents, she never rush a battle to leave room for her own mistakes - unless she really needed to do so out of desperation. She can also be caught off guard by surprise attacks, leaving her vulnerable for a brief amount of time.
  

 

[Fenn]

Hanui, the Sloppy Monk

Pronunciation: /ˈHɒ’nuj /


Personality:


"Better to live a day of passion than a lifetime of compliance."





Age: 18 years


Gender: Male


Race: Xanara


Appearance:


Hanui stands at a good five feet and nine inches tall, cutting a trim and lean physique. Indicant of arduous years, the young man's skin became a tad swarthy - exuding a faint robustness smothered by his untidy appearance. Calluses and scars are sometimes found about his body, but the most prevalent one had marred straight through his left arm: leaving the monk an amputee.


Nevertheless, being innately willful and roguish, Hanui's eyes bear a star-scorching, demonic glint - quietly dormant and nursed inside the edgeless depths of his amber irises. His long, raven hair is fashioned back into a loose ponytail with bangs that part to the side, reaching just beyond his chin. Evident once he breaks out a rascalesque smile, within his lips features slightly elongated incisors when compared to an average human. Overall, the unkempt youth is fairly handsome, having a certain attraction that grows onto people; and with the demeanor belonging to the 'bad boy' type, taking a second glance is well worthwhile.


While he has no care about keeping pretense, he does actually practice general cleanliness.


Chapter:


Sub Knight of Dusk, Outriders


Aether/Arcana:


An affiniter of Lunaris, Hanui's aether materializes as a peculiar mist - being that's characteristical of Ventus and perhaps an unexpected meld of both. While its abilities lie in enhancement of physical properties, the mist has its own unique attribute of refracting light in a manner that replicates invisibility. Notwithstanding proneness to external disturbances - causing the invisibility to flicker like waves - the effect can be maintained given the proper conditions


Beast Companion:


Belonging to a special branch of knights known as Outriders, through the use of runes, Hanui is linked by mind and spirit to a Shanoth, who is appropriately named Shanui. The Shanoth is a large serpentine creature eight meters long and one and a quarter meter wide with smooth, cloudsilver skin. Lining its back are large, bulky dermal plates that resemble small, darkened mountain peaks; these specialized scales furthermore have the capacity to support most flora life without significant shortcomings to the ophidian. Regarding this aspect, Hanui bothered to cultivate some choice herbs and medicinal plants on Shanui during his leisure time. Its head has glowing azure eyes and a flat snout adorned with four one-meter long, whisker-like feelers, these tendrils capable of stretching out to telescope an additional three meter and can perform basic actions such as grabbing and pulling. It also has powerful jaws with rounded teeth - being herbivorous with a diet consisting predominantly of high altitudinal vegetation. Lastly, the main advantages of using Shanoths are that they're air-bound creatures, capable of flight for an indefinite time via manipulation of Aether in the atmosphere and that they have an incredibly slow metabolism - requiring both little food and maintenance.


Hanui is able to exercise his will over the docile monster but is susceptible to strain and backlash if their volitions clash. The runic symbols that connect the riders and their beast allow them to share emotions; in which, such relationship helps augment the riders' mastery over their aether but - of course - not without hazards.


Weapon:


Befittingly (and ironically), the hallmark to the Sloppy Monk's reputation is a sword: one rusted and weathered pass salvation. Originally a double-edged straight sword - thirty one inches in length - its meagre state is a result of eons of unknown fate before ultimately entering into Hanui's possessions. Although the rust had been cleansed off; the edges remain chipped, the point fractured, and the guard half-broken. Everything about the one-handed sword appears irredeemable, but surprisingly, the material used to forged the weapon had made it tremendously resilient and moreover mysterious. Raising the question of its history, was it not for its damaged blade, the sword in its prime could likely cut mountains like clouds...pierce the sky like mud; a remnant of its past, it's no longer able demonstrates such unparalleled sharpness.


Baptized by blood over the ages, the sword had aberrantly begun to form spirituality as well. If nurtured further through slaughter - the blade's sanguinary aura may eventually requite for its lost edge.


Backstory: W.I.P

Spoiler

• Life
• Lost
• Luck
• Lily

• 
  
  
  Amidst a harsh winter like a frigid breeze that swept across the heart, creating tremors that nudged parents to remember their children... before the steps leading to a monastery resounded an infant's dismal wailing; but under the dim evening sky, not a single soul was outside to hear. The coldness in the air and snow seeped into the diapers wrapped around the little baby, then gradually his spirit bit by bit, weighing it down until his cries were no more than miserable mewls. If the child was abandoned inside the temple, maybe he could've extended a few more breaths; but on his last bated moments, fortunately, the boy was taken inside the dwelling.
  
  
  The man who saved him was young in appearance, in his thirties and with a persistently inscrutable countenance. A key (albeit low-key) member of the Knights of Dusk, Ansiau took the foundling in as his own, naming the baby after a deceased friend: Hanui. Over the years, Ansiau did nothing - in its true name - to raise the child. He provided food and shelter, the means to study and train - but did not concern himself with the boy's business. Whether the brat worked or wasted was his choice to make; there was never the intention to make him a knight.
  
  
  Even so, Hanui was diligent by character - training hard even if it was at his own pace. He was an odd child: shy with a penchant for trouble. He dabbled into multiple books regarding general knowledge and martial ways; and since he had no guidance and mainly himself to rely on, the young boy practiced in only a few he liked. However, what immersed him the most were the sword arts! His talents seemed only so-so, but there was an undeniable impression that he was meant for the sword.
  
  
  
• 
  
  
  Every lapsing days and months, ever maturing comprehension... Hanui became a free-willed and brash adolescent. He ran amuck the town. He fooled around with many children his own age. He broke and stole things without another thought. Ansiau was aware of everything occurring, but did not try to stop Hanui because it was part of his own abilities to not get caught. When the little scoundrel turned sixteen, his skill with the sword was barely praisable - but he took each one like a plate of gold. Due to Ansiau's impassive attitude, Hanui did not hesitate to gird himself one day in thief-life garments that obscured his face and age. Leaving the city walls under the pretext of freelance work, with a sword strapped to his waist, the young teen was interested in trialing the world that he had gleaned in those worn-out and ratty tomes
  
  
  It was not as if he underestimated what he read in those yellowed books, but he certainly miscalculated. With the cosmos left to the machinations of chance, it was just too abrupt; Hanui couldn't foresee being attacked so soon, especially not while within what was supposed to be a non-hostile region. A blow like sundering trees struck him with a wet scrunch - the sound of his mangled flesh and bones collapsing voidward. Overpowered, he failed to resist crashing back an attritional distance, twisting and tumbling stuporously; but with dogged vigor, he clung onto that unshakable wisp of consciousness through an effort of existence. During the course until finally landing, he could only remember experiencing a blur in his peripheral, having quickly raised his sword just in time to parry off a modicum of force.
  
  
  The result was a disfigured mess of an arm, but the reasonable option was to ignore the limb and promptly get off his ass... except it thoroughly burned up his energy to just retain a cognitive state. Groveling and struggling, the disheveled male pushed his torso up and took a steely look; between gritted teeth, his face reddened emotions of apprehension, guilt, and more so relief. Hanui crumbled back down to catch his breath.
  
  
  Beneath Ansiau's uncaring veneer, he did keep a close watch over Hanui... observing under a burdened heart. He would help show the way, but in the end, the road ahead is one's own to travel. Being able to experience surviving this world was different than being taught; cruel, but everyone had to cross this junction sooner or later. A little sooner and they'll attain much more control over their own lives. Ansiau only wanted Hanui to live and be strong.
  
  
  The corpse of the monster dissipated under the knight's swift fell, scattering away like dust. On the trip back, Hanui was amended that his injury could recover given he sustain the arm through Lunaris - at least, long enough for them to reach a Maegus doctor. Wordlessly, the youth stopped in his track, removing himself from Ansiau's support. He unsheathed his sword from the scabbard and severed his arm along with the fetters in his heart.
  
  
  
• 
  
  
  Outline:
  
  
  -Became a good-for-nothing monk = no mo training
  
  
  -Fooled around with cute nuns and rested in a hammock often
  
  
  -Did a lot of sweeping and overall cleaning in the monastery
  
  
  -Was dreadful at cleaning, but no one stopped him
  
  
  -One day tasked to take trash out in a stinky alleyway
  
  
  -Found a shitty sword wedged in between the shit-stained bricks.
  
  
  -Takes it because he has an eye for these sorta thing
  
  
  
• 
  
  
  Hi Nano. *wink*
  
  
  W.I.P
  
  
  

Miscellaneous Information:

 

[Ophirius]

A I A S {THE FOOLISH GENIUS}

"Talk science to me"




Name/Alias: Aias Argyris


Age: 17


Race: Human and Xanara


no slide no slide

P E R S O N A L I T Y

Aias isn't necessarily a bad person even though he lacks manners and can sometimes be rather offensive without knowing it himself. Hell, in that sense he could even be considered innocent since he's been untouched by the society's ideals for so long.


He's a highly energetic person with an unceasing curiosity for the unknown. Though more than anything he's infatuated with the concept of feelings and the complex nature of humans. He loves to discuss his interests with others and to explore the deep dungeon of the human mind. The lack of shame and other emotions that usually hinders humans enables him to view things more objectively which could be both an advantage and disadvantage.


Though he claims to not possess any human traits he is a rather gregarious person and strongly dislikes being restless.


His researches are all neatly kept in separate notebooks that he always carries with him.


Aias residence could be considered the dwell of a perfectionist since everything is very neatly organized and clean.

Chapter: Alchemist.





Weapons/Special items:


Aias specializes in the creation of robots. Due to his knowledge of the human body and its construction, he excels in creating movable faux metal limbs and the art to connect it so that it can perform activities that require a high mobility. On later years, he has also been studying animals and accordingly to the robot's use he will calculate it's most functional shape and system to make it as high performance as possible. The programming takes up most of his time since he's not as experienced in that field but he's working on improving the intelligence of his creations through his research of the human mind and studying physics.





no slide no slide





Miscellaneous Information:


Aias tends to bite his fingernails and stalk the people he finds interesting. He has a very sensitive nose and gets headaches from strong smells such as flowers.
​

 

[simj26]

Francine Heldenhart

Age: 27


Race: Human


Height: 171 cm


Weight: 64 kg


Chapter: Knight

The Outside

The Silver Saint is aptly named, her stark, silver, boyish cut often being the first thing that anyone notices upon meeting her the first time. She appears in a traditional plate-and-mail armor, which, when coupled with her shield and her natural hardiness, make it difficult to miss just exactly why she is also known, amongst some circles, as a human bastion. A tattered blue cloak adorns her neck, granting her protection from sands, cold winds, heat, and other elements that she could be exposed to. A bright blaze seemingly lights her golden-brown eyes.


Francine is plain, neither pretty nor ugly. She is not voluptuous under the armor, despite what others may think, but neither is she lacking in a woman’s features, though even that gives way to her well-toned muscles and build. Hoisting around a grand spear and shield in such heavy armor is no task for the mewling kittens of the common crowd, after all.

The Inside

Personality:


An inquisitive and curious knight who dabbles in both the craft of mowing down her foes with a righteous charge and bashing them over the head with her shield, as well as the pursuit of scholarly interests. While no longer young, Francine takes to studying like a moth to flame, finding joy in learning and experience. She keeps records of people she has met, creatures she felled, and places she has been to in a small journal at her side, a notion that most knights without a love for knowledge would not even think of having.


She is, for the most part, a rather nice and patient lady. She speaks with a level tone, her words unsullied with vulgarities, and carries herself with an air befitting that of a noble. She is good humoured and respectful of others’ beliefs, even if they are against hers. She oft opts for a more diplomatic discourse rather than a violent one, and hones her speechcraft just as well as she does her strength. She presents herself as a righteous knight (of sorts), in that she flies forth into the fray first as the vanguard, protecting her allies behind her, and holds fast for them. Her legendary mental fortitude alone makes her an unshakable foundation in a field of battle. Once she makes up her mind to perform something, then it is as good as done, or she shall die trying.


Stand in her way, and, despite her respect for another’s stubbornness, she would then go on to show just how brutal her strength can be. She holds nothing back in a fight. She does not waste time in savouring a battle, she does not wait for her opponent to show their true colours, she simply gives the old one-two: a shield to the face, and a spear through the torso. Should they survive, then she continues on until they step aside, or are fully and properly beaten to a mushy pulp on the ground. It is difficult to talk her into giving up at this point, and even harder to talk her into a frenzy. She maintains a cool head, but an iron will to forge her path forwards.


Backstory:


WIP

The Seen

Aether/Arcana: Francine’s Aether is stifling, to say the least- her body is cloaked in silver fire when it manifests, a flame so strong it chokes those who draw near. Perhaps such an effect is a mere trick of the mind, or perhaps her sheer willpower to persevere and survive overwhelms the others around her. Striking her causes her wounds to spew forth a small silver flame that dies off within moments.


Weapons/Special items:


As depicted, Francine wields a spear and a shield. There is nothing special to either, just the fact that both are well-forged, well taken care of, and have served her well for many years, and will serve her for many years to come. She has proven to be very nimble with her spear when she forgoes the defense of her shield, spinning and twirling the heavy steel weapon as if it were a stick in her hands, before delivering a powerful, sweeping coup de grace. If the thrusts have not gored her foe through, then one blow from the shaft would have sent them flying.

The Unseen

Miscellaneous Information:


Francine carries with her a small leather-bound journal with a bold, silver “F” embossed on its cover. Its contents detail many events, people, plants, and creatures she has encountered in the past, and a complete different section for her diary.

 

[The One Eyed Bandit]

Hye, the Cowardly Moon


Full Name Hye Euiun [Hi Ee-you-in]


Age: 27


Race: Human


Appearance: Tall, silken haired, and smooth skinned, Hye is certainly a woman who knows how to take care of herself, the only marks upon her visage being a few telltale marks of battle, left long ago, during her time as a Knight.


Since her becoming a Maegus, Hye as allowed several things to grow to impracticality. Her hair, for example, has seen nary a pair of scissors in the past nine years, becoming lengthy to the point where even a child would have ease in turning it against her during the tides of battle. Her body, too, once toned and powerful, has decayed away as the years rolled by, what was once unarguably the frame of a talented warrior, now being mistaken for one of a spoiled noble, not having seen conflict even once in their obscenely pampered life.


To her former comrades, such things are nothing more than a testament to how the once-skilled warrior has fallen to a life of laziness and cowardice. But to Hye herself, they seem to serve as more a reminder that she's left them behind.


Personality: A seeker of knowledge second, and an older sister first, among the dust-addled researchers of the Circle of Maegus, Hye is one of the few who have managed to escape the tugging hands of isolation, during her days of research. Compared to her fellows, she makes a point of getting out and about regularly, so not to neglect the few social and familial ties she still holds with those outside her profession. As such, it wouldn't be a lie to say she's not the most dedicated of researchers. Her dedication, instead, lays with what little family she has left- namely her younger sister- for whom she plays the role of caretaker and sibling both.


To such ends, Hye shows clear signs as someone more concerned- and perhaps too concerned- with the problems and needs of those close to her, rather than her own. What ambition she does hold as a researcher is mostly sidelined in the face of her familial responsibilities, grinding not only her research, but her self-motivation and drive to a halt. She herself shows little concern over the lack of forward motion her life has taken on, seemingly content with the droll of her day to day schedule, and there's little to suggest that she holds any grand plans for her future, either. Though without an appropriate degree of inspection or familiarity, such as lack of drive is a surprise from the girl, there being little to suggest such a lackluster ambition from a demeanor so open as her own.


At her core, Hye is something like a domesticated beast, turned docile by her years of inactivity and monotony. There are certainly traces to be found of the once-knight in her demeanor, and given the correct call of duty, perhaps even more could resurface. Once among the truest of knights, hopes for such a thing still remain within the hearts of a few.


Even her own, perhaps.


Chapter: Maegus, Former Knight


Aether/Arcana: In her days of youth, Hye's blood ran as freely as water, and and shone with the vibrancy of the moon itself, blessing and healing any wounds that it would be spilled from within in mere moments. Those times, though, have passed, and as the beginnings of the Demonization process still mar her body, Hye's once resplendent blood is now stained a grim, muddy gray, it's blessed properties having also waned.


Weapons: During her time as a Knight, Hye wielded a single, long scimitar. Scrawled with a network of endlessly complex engravings, it's a common surprise that the blade, regardless of it's ornate design, is entirely normal, it's scrawlings lending to it no divine sharpness, or magical strength. Something even more surprising given the supposed ease with which it once glode through flesh and bone alike. Though, perhaps this was simply down to technique, rather than the weapon itself.


Today, the weapon has grown sluggish and dull from it's lack of use, the once well-loved blade sleeping it's days away, mounted on the walls of Hye's study.


Backstory: WIP. A prodigious knight in her youth, it'd be easy to speak of Hye's beginnings solely from that point. A fighter so gifted as to even hold the potential to take the ever elusive role of Captain, the prospect is certainly a tempting one.


But, the root of that story lays many a year back.


The apple, as they say, rarely falls far from the tree. Great trees bear great fruits, one could suppose, and Hye's father, a wonderful man and a Knight of Dusk both, was a great tree indeed. One felled when Hye was so young as the tender age of eight, only a year after her sister's birth. As young as she was, his death was hardly something that impacted her as hard as it could have. Death, was still something mysterious, and while her father's death was devastating, it hardly held the young girl back.


Rather, it was more like a throw.


The question to be asked? If one was thrown from an already great tree, where would they end up? The answer, it would seem, was a grand one indeed. Determination born from grief, Hye was beset by an idea. She'd not only honor her father, but live up to his name. Surpass him, even. Setting about training, Hye had one goal in mind. To become a Knight of Dusk, and become a woman like the man her father was before her. Someone who drove back evil, and shielded the weak. A great ambition indeed, one she'd need to dedicate herself to, post haste. So, with the backing of her mother, she did. What she could learn from the memories of her father, held by both herself, and her mother, Hye progressed towards her goal with a surprising speed- though, whether that would be down to her efforts, or just dumb luck, is questionable, even today- and after the passing of only a year, her Spark ignited.


Without event, and without remark, Hye's Spark caught alight, without even the girl herself noticing it. It was only after what was perhaps months, when a injury befell her, and her blood ran radiantly and free that she knew- Or perhaps that she thought- that she was ready. After only a few days past she presented herself to the Knights of Dusk, bidding her mother and sister farewell, with a grin on her lips and determination in her eyes, and not long after that, she'd taken the rank of Squire.


Then, is when that highlight of her life began. Despite the delay of her official training, Hye furthered her development with her own hands. She took to the ancient libraries of the Knights, swallowing up what information she could, and combining it with the technique, and the blade, she'd inherited from her father. Her skills, undoubtedly, benefited from it Hye's passionate dedication carrying her to impressive levels of skill, even before her rank of Squire was outgrown. So when she'd grown strong enough to become a fully-fledged Knight? For a fourteen year old, she was certainly a force to be reckoned with. While no one-woman army- at least, not yet- Hye stood head and shoulders above her peers.


Miscellaneous Information: (whatever final comments you want to make about your character.)

 

[Semblance]

L U C I U S

​

Name


Lucius


Age


24


Gender


Male



​

Sexuality


Heterosexual


Race


Xanara


Chapter


Maegus

MEDICAL RECORDS

Appearance


Lucius is a tall, muscular man with light brown hair and piercing hazel green eyes. Perhaps his most prominent feature is his strong, extensive pair of wings. The color consists of a white to black gradient from top to bottom, with a mixture of dark hues in the middle. Depending on the lighting, his wings can sometimes appear to possess all the colors of the rainbow. Although its feathers are quite soft, the wings' muscles are extremely sturdy and flexible, allowing flight for periods of time. Because flying is somewhat energy draining for him, Lucius generally uses his wings to glide quickly above the ground for swift movements instead. He prefers to save his energy of flight for more needed situations, such as combat, emergencies, or cases with limited time. Furthermore, upon his skin lies an intricate pattern of tattoos across his outer arms and back. They symbolize the power of his runes and his reliance on his spells, as Aether has become the very essence of his being.

Aether

Lucius' aether manifests into a fiery, golden liquid that emits a dark ashy smoke, symbolizing his affinity for Ventus and Ignis. When this burning smoke is inhaled by those extremely close by, it can sometimes cause coughing fits or difficulty breathing. This was not always the case, however, as the dense smoke used to be a white, gentle mist. The more he cast his destructive spells, however, the more hatred and spite that began to consume his heart. Soon, his buildup of negative Aether replaced the once thin, mild mist with a thick, harsh smoke.

Weapons

His preferred weapon is his multitude of throwing knives hidden along his clothing. Lucius is able to throw them with extreme force and accuracy after years of practice. Combined with his ranged spells, his preferred method of offense involves his sharp blades enhanced by his runes. He also weilds a pair of faithful dual daggers, given to him by his father as a gift. They appear quite simple, with sharp silver blades and firm golden hilts, but upon these hilts are etched the symbols of strength and faith. Although he views them more as extensions of his hands rather than weapons after years of practice, he still main weapon of choice would still be his throwing knives.

PSYCHOLOGICAL RECORDS

Personality


Lucius has a quick, imaginative, and strategic mind. He is able to see things in many perspectives and use his creativity and imagination to plan courses of action for all possible scenarios. He has a high self-confidence, and trusts his rationalism above all else, so when he comes to a conclusion, he has no reason to doubt himself. This can make him rather arrogant and stubborn in his beliefs, sometimes refusing to listen to the opinions of those around him.


Independent and decisive, Lucius refuses to rely on anyone but himself and is quick to make decisions, willing to take full responsibility for his actions. Authority figures, social conventions, and traditions do not impress him, so he cannot blindly follow precedents and rules without first understanding them. He is not afraid of confrontation and will voice his opinions no matter the consequences. As a result, Lucius can be rather impulsive in his daily actions, following his heart rather than his mind.


His stubbornness, however, also applies to his relationships with others, as he will never give up on those he loves, being a constant and reliable presence in their lives. After Lucius has seen the worth in someone, that person will have his unconditional loyalty. Although he may appear critical and reserved, he reveals his caring and warmhearted side to the few who have broken past his emotional barrier.

PERSONAL RECORDS

Backstory


Lucius grew up in the outskirts of Ciro with a younger sister named Laila. Their parents were both respectable members in the Maegus Circle, her mother skilled in Ventus and her father talented in Ignis. As a result, Lucius picked up the affinity for both of these Arcanas as he grew older.


Although their family seemed almost flawless on the outside, with two extremely skilled Maegus as parents and two obedient children who also picked up the same affinities, this could not be more false. Lucius' father attained the habit of drinking quite early on in his own childhood. His father would often return in the middle of the night an angry and violent drunk.


Lucius was 11 the first time he saw his father lay a hand on his mother, slapping her to the ground. He and Laila were hiding behind the staircase with frightened eyes. Laila, who was only 8 at the time, began to fearfully cry and scream. His father heard her cries and began to aggressively make his way towards her. Lucius panicked, afraid that the drunk man would unleash his anger onto the small girl, and jumped out from behind the stairs, punching his father in the stomach. Lucius knew that his strike did not do much harm, but it was enough to divert his father's anger onto him. The next thing he knew, Lucius was on the ground, his father throwing relentless kicks at him and only stopping when his mother physically knocked the man out with a pan.


The next morning, his father was extremely apologetic and felt guilty about what had happened, promising that he would stop drinking. However, although his father's drinking did reduce following the incident, it only picked back up again. Soon, this became a regular pattern. Whenever his father would return drunk, Lucius would purposely taunt the man and receive the full blunt of his angry violence. As long as the drunk didn't touch his mother or sister, he didn't mind the beatings.


This continued throughout Lucius' adolescence until one day, his father fell dangerously ill. None of the doctors or healers they went to could cure the man. The day that his father died was arguably the most relieving day in Lucius' life. Their family was finally free from the monster. Now that he knew his mother and sister were safe, Lucius decided to travel to the heart of the city and make his home by the Flameheart. It was time he started a new life of his own, joining the Circle of Maegus himself.

Miscellaneous Info


His name means "light."


Lorem ipsum dolor sit amet, consectetur adipiscing elit.

 

[AssassinHD]

"Do I have a plan? Of course I do. Do what comes to mind at the exact moment."


- Louie Erikson


Name: Louie Erikson


Age: 19


Race: Human


Height: 4'11" (149 cm)


Weight: 89 lbs. (40 kg)


Appearance:


,

Short, curly , red hair, large ears, crooked nose, brown eyes and minimal facial hair along the jawline and to the chin. Small in stature and very lightly built with "twig" limbs, small feet, and long, skinny, and delicate fingers. His main attire is an unzipped brown leather jacket, faded blue jeans, and a plain white T-shirt underneath.


Personality: Very, very talkative. He makes the occasional bad pun (and believe me when I say bad), and when faced with a situation, he uses his most valuable weapon: talking. And the kajillion different gadgets he invents. He has an optimistic veiwpoint on this grim life of Orothos, fueled entirely on his curiousity of pretty much everything.


Chapter: Alchemist


Weapons/Special Gadgets: Louie has a couple favorite little gadgets: a spark launcher, a repeating crossbow,


and a newly made mini quadcopter drone, among others.

Spark Launcher:

A little musket looking thing that launches a mimic of the firecracker. It shoots a compound of an explosive powder similar to gunpowder that burns a brilliant blue wrapped in a slow burning paper like sheet. The little firecracker thing is loaded into the musket, the musket then propels it out with a swipe of a flint. The mystical gem in the musket propels the firecracker out of the musket while igniting the fuse. The twine fuse inside the firecraker burns and releases a blue smoke, and the firecracker explodes making an extremely loud noise and flashing the ever-present blue. It will seriously burn anyone extremely close, and temporarily blind them if it explodes near their face. It can be turned around and used as a club; the butt of the gun seriving as the business end.




Repeating Crossbow:

This thing shoots crossbow bolts in rapid succession. It was one of Louie's first designs he made when he was 11. He's made more upgrades to it, like adding a small flame at the end of the crossbow itself, setting the tips of the bolts on fire as they are launched out. The crossbow is loaded by putting on a clip of 6, and the mechanics in the crossbow does it for you. 2 strings draw back and fire alternitavely.




Mini Quadcopter Drone:

Currently, all it does is fly around. It's the typical quadcopter, but its small, only about half a foot (15 cm) long. Louie likes to upgrade his designs, so expect some more upgrades to this fellow.

Louie also dabs into brewing different concotions, things like molotovs. Every so often he carries a couple of different destructive flasks.

Pyro Circle:

This thing explodes in blue fire - much like the molotov. Nothing too special about it except it burns blue once it's exposed to the nitrogen in the air.




(Here comes a bad pun...)




"Flashk":

If your eyes meet the explosion of this "flashk", prepare to be blinded. When this concotion reacts with nitrogen, it quickly flashes an extremely bright light that blinds creatures who rely on eyesight for a loooooong while.




Corrosion:

This potion is an extremely corrosive liquid that, if given enough time, can eat away at pretty much anything. Organic material is especcially susceptible to the acid. The tempered glass needed to contain the thick substance doesn't always break immediately (preventing a lot of disastrous accidents when Louie gets a bit clumsy from time to time), so Louie usually rolls the flask and shoots it with his crossbow.

Louie's strong suits definitely do not include the Catalysts, so he mostly sticks with machinery and brewing.


Backstory: Both of Louie's parents - Lauren and Barry - found an unfortunate end during an expiriment with a molotov-like flask gone horribly wrong.


Louie was taken in by his uncle, Randy, who also happened to be of the family profession. Randy became Louie's teacher and mentor. When Louie was around 9, Randy deemed him able to start learning about the simple aspects of alchemy. Randy tought Louie almost everything he knew of alchemy. When Louie was 14, his teacher and mentor perished in an attack by the dreadful Fallen. Although the troop of attacking Fallen were stopped, Randy was one of the casualties. No one happened to find his broken, lifeless body. He was never cremated.


Louie continued teaching himself with a simple trial and error, learning new things every day. He alone is the last of the Erikson blood line. Lauren was an only child, and Randy didn't have any kids. Louie was also an only child. None of his grandparents are alive.





Depsite being surrounded by so much death, Louie Erikson keeps going. He's lived accomponied only by his creations for almost 6 years now. His friends are limited to only a few at best. Most others leave him to his obsession with his work and curiousity.


Louie also plays a lute-like instrument, and every so often he serenades his creations with the skillful grace of a self-tought professional.


Despite his reputation for destructive concoctions, he can brew a pretty good ale-like drink. So if you aren't Louie's enemy, and he offers you a drink, it might be the best drink of your life.

 

[AssassinHD]

"Do I have a plan? Of course I do. Do what comes to mind at the exact moment."
- Louie Erikson


Name: Louie Erikson


Age: 19


Race: Human


Height: 4'11" (149 cm)


Weight: 89 lbs. (40 kg)


Appearance:


,

Short, curly , red hair, freckles, large ears, crooked nose, brown eyes and minimal facial hair along the jawline and to the chin. Small in stature and very lightly built with "twig" limbs, small feet, and long, skinny, and delicate fingers. His main attire is an unzipped brown leather jacket, faded blue jeans, and a plain white T-shirt underneath.


Personality: Very, very talkative. He makes the occasional bad pun (and believe me when I say bad), and when faced with a situation, he uses his most valuable weapon: talking. And the kajillion different gadgets he invents. He has an optimistic veiwpoint on this grim life of Orothos, fueled entirely on his curiousity of pretty much everything.


Chapter: Alchemist


Weapons/Special Gadgets: Louie has a couple favorite little gadgets: a spark launcher, a repeating crossbow,


and a newly made mini quadcopter drone, among others.

Spark Launcher:

A little musket looking thing that launches a mimic of the firecracker. It shoots a compound of an explosive powder similar to gunpowder that burns a brilliant blue wrapped in a slow burning paper like sheet. The little firecracker thing is loaded into the musket, the musket then propels it out with a swipe of a flint. The mystical gem in the musket propels the firecracker out of the musket while igniting the fuse. The twine fuse inside the firecraker burns and releases a blue smoke, and the firecracker explodes making an extremely loud noise and flashing the ever-present blue. It will seriously burn anyone extremely close, and temporarily blind them if it explodes near their face. It can be turned around and used as a club; the butt of the gun seriving as the business end.




Repeating Crossbow:

This thing shoots crossbow bolts in rapid succession. It was one of Louie's first designs he made when he was 9. He's made more upgrades to it, like adding a small flame at the end of the crossbow itself, setting the tips of the bolts on fire as they are launched out. The crossbow is loaded by putting on a clip of 6, and the mechanics in the crossbow does it for you. 2 strings draw back and fire alternitavely.




Mini Quadcopter Drone:

Currently, all it does is fly around. It's the typical quadcopter, but its small, only about half a foot (15 cm) long. Louie likes to upgrade his designs, so expect some more upgrades to this fellow.

Louie also dabs into brewing different concotions, things like molotovs. Every so often he carries a couple of different destructive flasks.

Pyro Circle:

This thing explodes in blue fire - much like the molotov. Nothing too special about it except it burns blue once it's exposed to the nitrogen in the air.




(Here comes a bad pun...)




"Flashk":

If your eyes meet the explosion of this "flashk", prepare to be blinded. When this concotion reacts with nitrogen, it quickly flashes an extremely bright light that blinds creatures who rely on eyesight for a loooooong while.




Corrosion:

This potion is an extremely corrosive liquid that, if given enough time, can eat away at pretty much anything. Organic material is especcially susceptible to the acid. The tempered glass needed to contain the thick substance doesn't always break immediately (preventing a lot of disastrous accidents when Louie gets a bit clumsy from time to time), so Louie usually rolls the flask and shoots it with his crossbow.

Louie's strong suits definitely do not include the Catalysts, so he mostly sticks with machinery and brewing.


Backstory: As a child, he was always curious, and he always wanted to know more. He started different brewing techniques when he was around 6 years old, starting on robotics and machinery a few years later. Both of Louie's parents - Lauren and Barry - found an unfortunate end during an expiriment with a molotov-like flask gone horribly wrong when Louie was still a newborn. Louie, having heard what his parents were like by his uncle, Randy, who also happens to be of the family profession. Randy tought Louie almost everything he knew of alchemy. The rest is by simple trial and error. When Louie was 14, his teacher and mentor perished in an attack by the dreadful Fallen. Although the troop of attacking Fallen were stopped, Randy was one of the casualties. No one happened to find his broken, lifeless body. He was never cremated.





Depsite being surrounded by so much death, Louie Erikson keeps going. He's lived accomponied only by his creations for almost 6 years now. His friends are limited to only a few at best. Most others leave him to his obsession with his work and curiousity.


Louie also plays a lute-like instrument, and every so often he serenades his creations with the skillful grace of a self-tought professional.

And no, i do not mean "flute". I mean "lute". It's a string instrument.

 

[Mikailgirl]

r e q u s i t e

[ name ]


Claudette


[ age ]


23


[ race ]


Human


[ Chapter ]


Maegus

​

b a c k s t o r y

Born in a very poor area, Claudette doesn’t remember much about her family. Her father was murdered before she was born, and her mother wasted away in her grief while she was at a very young age. She was brought up by her older brother. She doesn't have a last name, for she doesn't remember it, and neither does she want to. She was left to live on her own when her brother went to join the army, something he’d always wanted. He was reluctant to leave her care at first, but she convinced him she’d be fine on her own. She hasn't heard from him since. She then had to learn how to survive on the streets and turned to prostitution.


That’s when she had first release of Aether. The sweet smell drove more and more to her and while she finally learned it could do more the enhanced her appearance, she didn’t think she would ever escape this life. That was till a Maegus can to be her client for the night. It was he whom she convinced to take her away from this life and into the Circle of Maegus.



​

a p p e a r a n c e

[ height ]


5'1"


[ weight ]


125 lbs.


[ Hair color ]


Brunette


[ eyes]


Gray

​

p e r s o n a

[ personality ]

​

Blithesome- Claudette is known for her outgoing carefree personality, she is often hesitant to get to action and would rather pass food off to someone and try to talk them down. Many would call her aloof, or perhaps lazy, until she isn't. When she is actively working on something, she can be quite driven, though she will likely complain passively about the issue. She does have a swing first mood set, but it is more like a slap on the wrist.

​

A e t h e r / A r c a n a

Lunaris; Claudette’s aether manifests as flowers blowing all over her. This flowers are white as snow and smell so sweet it’s almost sickly. The flowers can be plucked and crushed to make a salve the can be rubbed into to wounds to heal the sick and dying or a deathly poison to kill those who harm.

​

 

[Father Gigantor]

​

​

Prancing Flame, Gustaf Fieglermann
​

Full Name: Gustaf Hirshel Fieglermann


Age:31


Height:1.79 m


Race: Human

Appearance: Gustaf matches the appearance one would assume a reckless inventor would have right down to a tee. His visage and torso bear no small amount of scars left over from the mishandling of chemicals and heated objects, and his hands are calloused and bumpy from constant use. When hard at work, Gustaf gives up all pretense of maintaining an acceptable physical appearance, and he often emerges from his workshop after days of work looking like cave troll with dwarfism. He does take better care of himself when not slaving away on projects however, and takes particular care of his head of short brown hair. Some women note that he's rather fetching once you look past his scars and his rather... 'straightforward' personality. At least one woman did for certain at least, one who did the unimaginable by marrying the sod.

Gustaf's armor is mostly utilitarian, decorative markings notwithstanding. His medium weight plate armor consists of a cuirass, spaulders, gauntlets and boots, with a leather gambeson and padded trousers underneath. His armor is kept relatively light in order to make room for ammunition and alchemical devices, he also forgoes the use of a helmet in order to aim better.




Personality: Exuberance, cockiness and blitheness do not an Alchemist make, and Gustaf is in no short supply of these qualities. The prospect of the complete extinction of the human race often does little good for one's spirits and demeanor, but it has done little to quell his rambunctious attitude. If anything it has only exacerbated it, as seasons of war and discord brings with them a need for armaments, something Gustaf is all too willing to supply. When it comes to his craft, Gustaf is a perfectionist to the very end, and will spend days or weeks on his most complex works.

Jovial and affable in everyday life, those who actively seek the companionship of this gunsmith shall find it very quickly as many will attest to. Treat him well and he'll be all too happy to return the favor with a round of drinks, or perhaps create a weapon for you, so long as you possess necessary recompense of course. Stand opposite him on the field of battle however, and the only gift one can expect from him is a bullet to the brainpan.

Killing is second nature to most members of the Knights of Dusk, but this is taken to almost alarming levels with Gustaf, who does so with no hesitation when on the battlefield. In his mind a weapon is engineered for a sole purpose, which is to harm with the intent to kill. If a weapon cannot serve its singular purpose, then what good is it at all?

Gustaf openly considers his affiliation with the Knights as little more than both a business opportunity, and an excellent chance to test his inventions on 'live' targets to gather data. Their goals simply align with each other very well. The Knights seek to rid the world of the Fallen, and saving humanity in doing so. Whilst Gustaf wishes to invent and sell better weapons and perhaps ensure his own survival in the process. Truly a partnership made in heaven.

Chapter: Alchemist

Weapons/Special items:

Firearms:

As a self proclaimed "Master" gunsmith, Gustaf is not only skilled in the creation of guns, but in their usage as well. He utilises a wide variety of firearms in accordance with the needs of the situation at hand, more often than not ones crafted by himself (the conceited bugger). Fieglermann Armory produced firearms all have the unique property of left-handed rifling, meaning the grooves inside the barrel spin counter-clockwise. This subtle change imparts absolutely no tactical advantage whatsoever, and only serves to as a gimmick and an identifier for Fieglermann made firearms.

Repeating rifle "Kirstyn"

Gustaf's Magum Opus, Kirstyn is a bolt action repeater rifle. Outwardly the rifle already has several noticeable differences from a stock rifle, namely the lack of a shoulder stock and increased barrel size. The barrel and majority of the moving parts are also composed of special alloy, more durable than standard steel, and with a higher resistance to corrosion and heat damage. What makes the gun truly special is its usage of catalysts in the internal mechanism. Kirstyn contains, not one, but two catalysts, a Ventus and an Ignis catalyst. The Ventus catalyst uses air to propel the round forward before the detonation which normally propels the bullet takes place, meaning less overall recoil and higher muzzle velocity. The Ignis catalyst generates a localised explosion, not unlike that of detonating gunpowder, within the firing chamber when the trigger is pulled, effectively acting as a substitute for a propellant and negating the need for it. This also means that Kirstyn can conceivably fire out any kind of sort of crap the user can jam down the barrel, though it is just as capable of firing regular cartridges with self contained propellants (AKA normal bullets), and it has a regular firing hammer in place should the Ignis catalyst fail to work.

Warhammer:

Standard Infantry warhammer, with the flat smashy bit on one end and the sharp pointy bit on the other. Made of the same alloy used in Kirstyn's construction, making it stronger and heftier than a normal one made of steel. Useful for smashing the heads of foes, bashing through plate armor and opening uncooperative doors.

Elementas:

Oils and compounds meant to be applied to weaponry. No, not the cooking kind of oil mind you. Elementas are basically one-off enchantments for the magically impaired, giving whatever weapon the Elementa is applied to additional properties, or even altering existing ones. The most basic and common ones usually add simple elemental properties or alter existing characteristics of the weapon in some way, such as increasing the sharpness of a sword, setting it ablaze or making it emit bursts of electricity with each strike. Hence the colloquial term for the substances 'Elementa'. However, there exist rarer and more specialised formulas concocted by master alchemists that have much more potent or exotic effects, such as the ability to smite ethereal foes.

Gustaf knows the formulas for most standard Elementas and has even invented varieties of his own. They aren't his specialty however, and is out of his depth when it comes to the more complex varieties

Backstory: WIP

Miscellaneous Information:

Gustaf's wife, Cecilia, is a moderately high ranked member of the Circle of Maegus. He constantly badgers her to quit and come work with him instead or become a housewife, and is shot down every single time. Her greatest contributions in his work have been helping him refine his concepts for Elementas.​

 

[JayEmperor7]

Name: Immanuel


Race: Human


Gender: Male


Age: 16


Personality:


Immanuel usually possesses a neutral and calm expression, he very honest; never tells a lie, and his very polite and kind demeanor, but he may sometimes take advantage of people when he has the chance. He usually is reserved to himself, doesn’t really talk a lot, and his often to himself. Immanuel is very intelligent, and claims he is handsome and thus arrogant sometimes, but is open to criticism but may not take it with a positive attitude. He doesn’t show hatred to others, usually keeps his negative views of others to himself; he usually hides his feelings if he is depressed or angry, and his very forgiving. He dislikes liars and those who are openly rude to others and sarcasm. He is very curious and shows interest in academic pursuits. He’s not very patience when waiting for things, but patience when dealing with others. When he starts to get close with someone, he starts to open up and may be a bit of a chatterbox, and is quick to show those he is fond of his affection.


Appearance:


Immanuel has a “pretty boy” appearance and he is quite vain. He is around 5'10" and is really skinny but not bony. He has large, black, silky curls of hair, his hair stylized in a hairstyle similar to that of a hi-top fade with a small stand of curly hair hangs on his forehead. He has brownish-hazel eyes, with long but decent sized, eyelashes. He has smooth, clear dark olive skin, free of any blemish. He has medium sized nails as he forgets to cut them and has gotten out of the habit of biting his nails. He wears a loosely-fitted white turban on his head


Chapter:


Maegus


Aether/Arcana:


Immanuel’s aether falls into the Arcana of Lunaris. Immanuel’s aether is manifested as rays of moonlight, then turns into very vague and blurry images of a winged angel which have a heavenly glow and with enough of them, they can carry something, but not too large. If the rays are soft, then when used on a person, calm and sooth the person and heal, but when bright they are blinding, and he can use the light to reveal any invisible figure.


Weapons/Special Items:


Immanuel has a few special items that he keeps on him. His turban is enchanted and he can use it to fly around. He also has an enchanted harp, which he plays beautiful, calm music and uses this to hypnotize people, that listen and enjoy the music.


Backstory (Immanuel's point of view):


"I was told that my biological family, who live someplace near Ciro, had a violent brawl over inherited property. My father, who was the youngest of his family inherited a small estate, nothing much, from his father. His older sibling grew dissatisfied of nothing getting the property before my father as they were older than him. I hear the my father was his father’s favorite which angered his older siblings. So then one day, on my grandfather’s birthday, my father’s brothers and their wives and children came over my father’s house. I was upstair in my bedroom, fast asleep. My father and mother were kind-hearted people but my mother and father and the others argued and bickered, shouting loudly. Then, my father’s oldest sibling, took a hammer and smote my father and killed him. Then he lost it and killed the rest of my family, except my mother who survived the blow, and then he lit the house on fire with a burning candle.”


“I, then just 6 years old, woke up to the scream of my dying relatives, and went down stairs to see what was going on, just to come to realize my family has been murdered and the house on fire. As the flames were coming close to me, frozen and shaken when fear, my mother then grabbed hold of me and threw herself out of our window.”


“Then he ran as fast as she could away from the house, coughing and wheezing from the harmful smoke from the fire. She then ended up in the Desolate Woods. She then dropped me on the ground and she turned around and then collapsed on the ground also, dead. With mixed emotions and head trauma, I fell into a coma.”


“A few days later, I woke up from the coma in a warm cabin I believe I was familiar with. I found out that a woman named Delilah, good friend of my family had witnessed the fight within my family and then came and took the risk and rescued me from the Desolate Woods. I was happy and sad, mourning over the loss of my family and somewhat joyed to still be alive.”


“I spent the rest of my early childhood, being raised by Delilah, a merchant who travel, trying her best to trade goods and gain wealth our society in Ciro. I spent time helping out with the goods, cleaning, and reading and gain a much knowledge as I could about the history of this land and the human body, among other things. I was well-fed and taken good care of and happy in my new home, trying to forget my past when I was 6 years old. Then later, one day, while looking for something in Delilah’s shed, I forget what it was, I found a chest of goods and other items, if I recall correctly from my old house. I then also found a letter addressed to my uncle, the murderer of my family, to tempt him and devise a plan to take me the property that was “rightfully his”. Then Delilah, looking for me, entered into the shed and saw me reading the letters and looking through the items. She then became enraged and asked me what was I doing here in a place off-limits and slapped me and threatened to sell me to slave traders. I was heartbroken and wondered how can a trusted friend to my family do this? Deeply saddened and enraged about my recent discovery, caused my first release of my Aether.”


“I then ran away from my “home” and over the years studying, I found my place in the Circle of Maegus.”


Miscellaneous Information:


Immanuel is very swift. He is a foodie and also claustrophobic and doesn’t like others being to close too him. He is also knowledgeable of acupuncture and knows the human pressure points and has a tendency to observe (stare at) others and learn their activities and habits which may be seen as creepy.

 

[Hanarei]

Rena Aklal

​

Basics

Name: Rena Aklal


Age: 25


Race: Human


Gender: Female


Chapter: Maegus

Appearance

Height: 5'5


Weight: 136


Hair Color: Dark Brown


Eye Color: Amber

Personality

Rena is a very logical person. She often lacks showing emotion, often feigning a smile or other gesture to try and make others feel at ease. She is very rational when it comes to issues, at times making her appear very cold. Despite seeming disconnected at times with others, she is protective of others, seeking value in life and wishing to preserve it. She can be inquisitive about things, often pursuing to learn more about things that spark her interest.

Background

Rena had joined the Maegus at a rather young age. She lacked the general control of Aether others had, instead opting to use her vast knowledge to grant her entry combined with her adaptation of Aether use. Her interests were focused primarily on the study of Aether finding natural curiosity with it. It was her devoted nature and knowledge that had ultimately earned her a place within the Maegus.


She spent much of her time researching Aether, in particular its interaction with sources such as alchemy and the element of corruption that it invoked upon regular users. She developed her own techniques, combining the aspects of alchemy to use telekinesis using black shards developed in order to absorb Aether. She had regularly allowed herself to be exposed to Aether, much to the amazement of others being completely unaffected by any detrimental effects of the Aether so far.

Powers

Rena's ability is channeled through a sort of telekinesis with special items bound directly to her. These objects take the shape of black shards which vary in size from roughly 4" to 12" long being a few inches thick. The shards are jagged and sharp, able to cut through objects when enough force is applied. She can move them within a roughly 100' radios making them adapt at longer ranges although in close range it can be more limited in their use for Rena.


Rena can use the shards as a sharp throwing object, sending them straight out at a opponent using the force to slice through enemies combined with the shards natural Aether absorbing properties to help cut through any energy protecting them. Their absorbing properties allows the shards to be used as defensive shields when combined together to help absorb blows. Energy absorbed by the shards is dissipated away, although they require a small period of time to do so, unable to dissipate while absorbing energy.


Rena is able to use the shards without any direct control although to a limited complicity. Using arm movements, she can much more effectively use the shards, primarily required for using the shards in more offensive means needing the quicker speed and more exact control to effectively attack with them. Using her arms also greatly aids in putting up defensive measures for herself quicker and more securely.

 

[BigNerdOnCampus]

Name/Alias: Nauxus Arillia


Age: Twenty seven


Race: Human


Appearance: In a bygone time Nauxus had once been handsome and youthful. He'd stood tall and confident next to his fellow Meagus, his dark features and charismatic nature making him quite popular among his peers. However, after years toiling with Aether more powerful than himself, Nauxus now lives in a gnarled version of his former body, more akin to a beast of death than to a human being. Pale and sickly skin that clings tightly to an elongated body, limbs thin and frail in appearance. His once strong featured face now a visage of horror; blackened eyes and sunken skin. Thin locks of dark hair hang to his shoulders and a heavy cloak is used to cover whats left of him.

Spoiler

Personality: Master Arillia is solitary in nature, preferring the company of his study to that of other people. Once he had been charismatic and charming but that has all toiled away into a man filled with spite and intellectual vanity. In conversation Nauxus often responds with dark humor or snide defensive comments. He is commonly disliked or pitied and this has made him wary of both long time acquaintances and all new faces. He sees people as a means to an end, something to be used for convenience more than anything else. However, for the very few who can get close enough to see a deeper side to the maegus, they may understand that he's simply lonely and misunderstood. Surely he is egotistical and aloof yet integrally he yearns for hope and light to return to the world.


Chapter: Maegus


Aether/Arcana: In youth, Nauxus' Aether appeared to pour from his hands in the apparition of gentle mist. However, after the corruption he forced upon himself his Aether now resembles that of a toxic ooze; black and thick like tar.


Weapons/Special items: Commissioned from multiple alchemists, Master Arillia posses a unique set of surgical tools and containment equipment that he uses on the bodies of the fallen. One piece of note would be an Arcana infused surgical mask which covers his entire face and doubles as a protective helm.


Backstory: Nauxus Arillia began his Meagus career with high expectations from his superiors. He was undoubtedly gifted and spent his youth as an apprentice often surpassing his masters in both knowledge and talent. Upon receiving status as a fully fledged Meagus he was given a private study in which to conduct his research and carry out necessary experiments. Vanity drew Nauxus to believe that of all his predictors he was the most likely to discover the origins of the fallen, and just perhaps, how to vanquish them. Using charm and connections Nauxus worked to gain access to ancient and private libraries, drawing knowledge from tomes and research journals unseen or ignored by his peers. For three years he searched the libraries alone, hoping for just one small hint or key to give his work any validation. When his endevous proved fruitless he began taking on field work, trips into the Grimmlands with experienced knights in order to see the fallen with own eyes.


Expeditions into the Grimmlands always resulted in a tragedy of sorts; Whether a knight lose his life or his mind. A learned callousness to unspeakable loss was all that kept Nauxus sane, and with his goal so far out of reach he felt himself slipping into misery. it was while on such an expedition that a sliver of hope stirred in the young Meagus. Weeks into Grimmlands and resources running low, Nauxes had already lost a companion to hunger when the second knight left him for dead. Alone and hopeless he suck shelter in an deprecated ruin. It seemed to be that of a noble's mansion, but with the rot and destruction it was too hard to tell. It was while searching for provisions that Nauxes came across the dusted research journals, forgotten and disheveled in an old chest. The Journals spoke of a forgotten chapter, practiced long before the Eclipse, when Meagus had uncompromising and unlimited power. An Aether manipulated to reanimate a corpse, to speak to spirits no longer in this world, and possibly to even seek out immortality itsself. Necromancy. The research journal read like fiction, it spoke of a time when such things could have been possible, how perhaps they achieved it, but it gave no answers and no proof. Yet despite such a lack of evidence or truth Nauxus couldn't help but keep the journal, and to even go as far as to remaster it. He believed that if someone could have been practicing necromancy, if they could have succeeded even a little, then perhaps this was the key to fallen. His key to answers.


It was not long after that, that the experiments began. With suggestions of taking the bodies of vanquished fallen back to his study he all but lost the support of the knights, now refusing to be his escort. It was thus he be began his own expeditions. More and more he went out hunting the fallen, taking their bodies apart and searching for signs to prove his theory. He became captivated by death, obsessed with the black heart. He began dark experiments, practicing what he could of the so-called necromancy. His Aether became tainted, his body twisted, and his mind darkened. After years of expelling Aether and researching the corrupted, toiling over death and the concept of reanimation, Nauxus slowly became something not entirely human.


Though ten years have passed since he received his study, he is now no closer to the answers hes coveted than ever before. Desperate for results Nauxus has begun studying the black heart directly, and though it has resulted in nothing but failure, he has even attempted to recreate it himself.


Once well known and wildly admired Nauxes is now infamous throughout Ciro. His current appearance and aloof behavior make him something of a dark legend to the common folk. Through lack of results and disreputable experiments Nauxes has been warned that if things don't change quickly his title and study will be stripped and he will be discredited as Meagus. More motivated than ever before Nauxes is willing to put everything on the line to prove his theory, even if it cost him what little humanity he has left.


Miscellaneous Information: N/A

 

[TheLoneRook]

Torun Rengarde

Run fast, for the sun sets whether you want it to or not. Torun Renegarde

• Recognized Visuals
• Combative Notes
• Humanity

• 
  
  
  
  
  
  Spoiler

  

  
  Age: 23
  
  
  Race: Human
  
  
  Appearance: Torun stands at 6'4", a man of impressive physical caliber to say the very least. Though surprisingly free of any large scars, he'll tell you that this has less to do with lack of exposure to combat and more to do with being just that good at not being struck. Despite this, Torun's body is covered in runes set at specific areas on his frame such as his palms, shoulders, chest, heels, and other key joint locations. These runes are identical in design, displaying the symbols translating to "White fire" encircled by a localized runic seal. Due to the nature of his abilities, Torun dresses very minimally, avoiding shirts or pants, wearing only baggy trousers tied off at the knee, wrapped with a cord of some sort, whatever he can find at the time. Torun also wears a necklace of thick beads, said to have been a gift from someone he cared about some time ago. His hair is a mundane brown, his eyes a quiet yet steely gray.
  
  
  
• 
  
  
  Chapter: Knight
  
  
  Aether/Arcana: Torun's Aether when he was born was overwhelming to his body and forced to be sealed by the maegus of his village. A fire so hot it burns white, Torun's power if not properly contained will do little more than burn everything around him with little to not control. In order to properly manipulate his Aether, the maegus he studied with planted runes on various points of his body to allow him to expel his violent Aether in a controlled direction and point of expulsion. These various points serve as both a means for Torun to expel his whitefire for offensive purposes, as well as use it as a means of enhanced mobility, propelling him with linear velocity at precise intervals. To engage his power, Torun strikes a break in the seal of the rune on his chest, causing the various points on his body to be set alight with pilot lights of white-hot flame. To contain it again, he merely mends the seal.
  
  
  Weapons/Special items: Torun's only weapon is a twin-sided hammer staff forged from dark iron, made to be able to resist unthinkable heat, so as to be effective in the presence of Torun's Aether. His style of fighting is blended with a series of aggressive and passive paths of attack adjusted accordingly to meet the opponent he's pitted against.
  
  
  
• 
  
  
  Personality: Torun is by all respects a calm and gentle person, taught that violence is a tool to combat that which cannot be faced with diplomacy. He's known to be quite cool, and little can get under his skin as a rule. However, like the fire within him, if you manage to light him up, he just might explode.
  
  
  Backstory: Torun was born in a village stuffed right in the middle of Gaia's Spine, known for their skilled Kori-based maegus. When Torun was born, both of his parents being Kori maegus themselves, it was expected that he would follow suit. Before his Aether manifested, he was trained to be a maegus, and learned the art of runecraft and the runic language. When his Aether finally displayed itself, the entire village was quite surprised. A few even accused his mother of adultery (although there really wasn't anything to suggest it considering he had his father's eyes). Despite his anomaly of an Aether, the maegus of his village were quick to develop a means for him to learn to control and use his chaotic power with a scholar's precision. On his 16th birthday, he was sent from his loving village on an expedition to Ciro, where he would go on to become a Knight of Dusk. Since then, he has earned a reputation for being an incredibly cunning warrior, his knowledge of Arcana giving him a unique edge among most knights, and his wicked fighting style earning him the nickname "Sunset Blaze". Though a commendable warrior, Torun looks up to his superiors, and is always in search of a means to improve his lethal craft.
  
  
  Miscellaneous Information: I LOVE YOU
  
  
  

 

[Binarydivide]

Philip Abime

Race: Human


Gender: Male


Age: 28


Chapter: Maegus Outrider


Aether/Arcana:


Kori; manifesting itself as icy seawater that flows in his veins rather than blood; as of late, its grip on him has grown stronger, and his features have begun to pale and soften, like a drowned body left to bob on the tide. His power allows him control over liquids, provided that they contain sufficient water to satisfy the requirement of his power. When lacking in fluids, he opens up his veins, for his Arcana ensures that despite whatever injury he suffers, he may neither die by exsanguination nor drowning.


In times when his power flows the most strongly, seawater streams from his eyes like tears, and vapour that stings with cold and salt assail all who draw too near. Sometimes, symbols can be seen in this mist, unknown among the libraries of the maegi, the only duplicates of them found carved in his staff of driftwood, or carved into his pasty flesh beneath his robes.


Appearance:


All too accustomed to the hardships of the sea, Philip currently exists in a nebulous place between the sinewy, sun-browned young man he once was, and the fish-belly pale, swollen thing that his powers will shape him into as his humanity is slowly eroded from within. Long spans away from what comforts the order can provide has left him with a veritable mane of hair and beard, crusted and stained with salt. He does not look like any saviour of civilization, but his masters are willing, for now, to let his actions speak for themselves.


He is clad in faded, stained robes of dark blue and green, bound around his waist with chains of Verdigris scarred brass. Frequently torn and frequently patched, it is as much a testament to his campaigns as the angry scrawls of white and red that his wounds have left across his body.


Personality:


His personality, despite the mutable nature of his aspect, tends towards a constant, low burning belligerence. Though given how frequently he has thrown himself into the most bitter of fights, perhaps it could be forgiven as the gnawing teeth of Aether chewing at his soul, but perhaps not.


Certainly, his tolerance for the world off the deck of his ships or the embrace of the sea has faded as of late. He has made few friends in the order, and has little binding him from throwing himself away from the light again and again, until perhaps the light will grow too painful to bear, and he will slip beneath the sea for the final time. Philip has some awareness of this, and when he allows himself the luxury of introspection, it is a fight between fatalism and fear over who might command the rudder of his soul.


Weapons/Special items:


The papers and scrolls of his colleagues fare poorly among the hostile climates that Philip thrives within. Hence, he has developed alternate methods of preserving his lore. Amid and beneath his robes he carries shards of bone and flint, carved with runes both familiar and strange, each one bearing a fragment of the knowledge that he has acquired during his time beyond the world's last light.


His staff is an altogether cruder instrument. A staff of bleached driftwood, carved with runes as crude as they are brutally effacious. Baptised with his arcana so many times over, it allows him to focus his effort to accomplish feats of power without giving himself so fully to the black rages that drive him closer and closer to the brink.


His dagger is nothing so potent an instrument as his staff, but a blade cannot bathe so frequently in the blood of a maegus and not take up some semblance of their power. It is what has carved the binding scars that span his body, to tie him to life no matter the torment visited upon his mortal shell. He may still suffer, and even this magic may not proof him from death, but he will not leave this world without drowning his killer in his own heart's blood.


Backstory :


Once, there was a fleeing ship. Those on board fled the end of the world, the dimming of all hope, all light. They had dwelled among the greatest of all nations, before the eclipse. But the eclipse came, and the spires raised in kinship with that greatest of palaces crumbled into the sea.


Storms broke upon the ship, tearing sails asunder and crew from the deck. But still it limped on, chasing the final promise of a distant god. The Fallen came, chasing the succulent taste of still bright souls, but the storm broke their wings of shadow, and the ever-hungry sea swallowed them into its depths, never to die, and never to leave.


Amid this all, a child slept peacefully, deep beneath the decks as his mother held him tight and prayed. Though unseen, the babe smiled in it's sleep as a great wave rose and swallowed the ship for a moment, before it buoyed itself up out of the waves, battered but unbroken. It was not long before the storm broke, and in the grand scale of things, not much longer before the navigator, tears wet on his cheeks, gave the cry that there was light, at long last, on the horizon.


The refugees entered the final redoubt of life, unable to draw their eyes from the most holy sight above them; all for one, that is, whose eyes were cast into the distant north, at a home they would never know, and the light of storms shone in their eyes. Wanderlust was the curse of this child, who never forgot the tale of the crossing.


In time, the child had children of his own, and would tell them a tale so redily forgotten by those who had come with him. Even, as his hair greyed and his back bent, he would tell the tale to his grandchildren, that even the most unholy of the enemy where nothing against the world itself.


The man died, but the tale continued, till once again, a child was borne who howled at silence and slept through thunder. He heard the tales, and claimed a holy pilgrimage in the name of Varym. He went north, despite the danger, and stood on the seashore, on grey stones beneath a grey sky, with grey, half-frozen waters before him. There he heard the words of the distant thunder, and a tale that only the sea may tell.


He took his belt knife, and grey steel opened up his veins. He bled crimson into the sea, and then he smiled as a wave rushed to meet him, and nothing since has poured from his veins but the grey ice-water of that faraway northern shore.