Fantasy Hope of a Nation Characters

[Shog]

IC: Hope of a Nation
OOC: Hope of a Nation OOC

Rules:

• Your character must be based around the result you get from taking the test by clicking my signature.
• Unless you can convince me otherwise (send me a PM) I will only allow one of each class.
• This RP involves plenty of combat, so if you get a class that you don't think will work then you may take the test again to get another result if you so wish. That said, if think you can make a viable character with it then I look forward to seeing what you can come up with.
• Your character must be willing to partake on this quest. They will be given a chance to walk, so don't make leaving an overwhelming desire for them. If they can be bribed in some fashion then that is acceptable.
• This is not a high fantasy role play and mythical creatures do not exists, however variations on actual animals may.
• Guns do exist in this world, but they are in their early forms and only owned by Ragor soldiers. Later in the RP you can get your hands on one, but remember you will be a novice with it.
• Actions have consequences and that consequence may be death. I will always give your character a chance to escape a sticky situation, but if they do something stupid they will most likely become injured.

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Name:
Age:
Gender:
Appearance:
Class:
Class Skills:
Limitations:
Weapons:
Equipment:
Other Skills:
Bio:
Other:

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Name: Eldritch Allen
Age: 27
Gender: Male
Appearance:

Class:
Class Skills: As an enchanter, Eldritch has access to other peoples minds. He is constantly picking up emotions and surface thoughts of those around him, whether he likes it or not. It can be pushed further to read deeper into a person's mind. Another skill unique to enchanters is the ability to link minds to communicate silently. The skill most enchanters are known for is altering other's minds. Everything so far has been fairly passive, but enchanters can change thoughts, desires, and opinions of others. If the subject's mind can be fully overrun then an enchanter can completely take over their body. It should be noted that they can target specific portions of the brain, such a taking over only motor functions. The most extreme case of mind control is making a thrall, but this typically takes upwards of two years of constant exposure and is considered to be a crime. One nice perk is the ability of an enchanter to always know when they're being lied to.
Limitations: Those with a higher mental fortitude are harder to read. Other magic users tend to be the hardest and he has never been able to read the mind of another trained enchanter. Reading a person's mind is also not all that easy. Unlike verbal communication, which is still rather messy, a person's thoughts are scattered, often jumping between multiple topics simultaneously. The more control an enchanter can gain over a person, the lower their mental fortitude. For the sake of the RP I will assume all other player made characters have a decently high mental fortitude unless otherwise stated.
Weapons: Arcane Staff. Eldritch once befriended an old wizard. After several years, the wizard died and left Eldritch a few of his belongings. One was this staff (see above picture. It has a blue stone embedded in the top). It can fire arcane bolts, which don't do much damage (only leaving slight burns upon impact) but does throw the target backwards. If he slams it on the ground it can also create a burst of arcane energy. Like most, he also carries a dagger on his hip.
Equipment: Another of the wizards gifts was a backpack. It was a decent size, but was empowered to hold twice as much as it normally should without increasing the weight. The wizard believed Eldritch should be able to travel with more than the bare necessities. While this should be obvious, he carries everything he needs to survive with him.
Other Skills: He is a decent shot with his staff (which he also uses as a hiking stick), but it is only effective at medium range. That said, it is also sturdy enough to be used for melee combat. If he loses his staff he is no stranger to using his knife, being taught how to use it almost as soon as he could hold one. If completely disarmed he can hold his own in a fist fight. All that said, he is at his best when not engaging in close combat. He knows how to survive in the wilderness and is quite the climber. Thanks in part to his enchanting magic, he is charismatic and can talk himself into a good deal.
Bio: Eldritch was the third of four children in his family to survive. Both parents were enchanters and raised their children under the assumption all of them would be strong in this now rare art of magic. It became apparent that Eldritch was the strongest out of all of them while his younger sister showed very little aptitude. Despite their best efforts, their parents lessons on the moral uses of their powers didn't sick with the eldest. She believed their powers should be used for more. The next oldest began to agree with her and they separated themselves from the others as best as they could.

The night everything changed could have been ripped from a story book. The rain was crashing down harder than it had in years and their little cabin in the woods began flooding. only when a tree crashed through the side did the family decide to leave. They stayed as sheltered as they could in the carriage while heading to town, but it wasn't enough. Lucy, the youngest by far, developed hypothermia. She saw a healer as soon as possible, but it was too little too late and she passed. The eldest thought she sensed uncertainty from the healer and blamed her for her younger sister's death. In a rage she tore the healer's psyche to shreds. This, of course, led to a huge argument in the family, though Eldritch mostly stood off to the side, only speaking up to point out inaccuracies or logical fallacies in either argument. In the end the older two took off together.

Eldritch stayed with his parents only a couple more months to make sure they were settled before taking off himself. He was 16 at this time and could handle himself. The first thing he did was track down his older siblings. The eldest had joined the criminal underworld and after several years became a crime boss, taking the name Nightshade. Rumor has it that her closest underling has become a thrall. The next oldest settled down in the capitol city of Aldun as a private eye. He apparently runs a booming business. Eldritch himself couldn't settle down. Instead he roams the country, moving from city to city doing odd jobs and living off the land. He keeps in touch with his brother, sister, and parents and intentionally avoids burning bridges. It's paid off as he has asked favors of each.
Other: Whenever Eldritch uses his magic his eyes glow a golden-orange. The stronger the magic, the stronger the glow.

 

[KStrausser]

Name: Osric Tolvere
Age: 25
Gender: Male

Appearance:

Class:

Class Skills: Osric Tolvere has been trained from a young age in a myriad of clandestine subjects - pretty much anything that would be expected of an spy and oftentimes, assassin: quick-witted and quick on his feet, and talented with the arts of the blade and crossbow. He's well-versed in how get into places he's not supposed to be and how to get out without being seen. Osric has also mastered the languages of deceit and disguises, and is fluent in that of poisons.​

Limitations: While he is by no means out of shape, Osric would be considered neither strong nor imposing. Naturally lithe and frankly, a bit short, in a straight up brawl without his weapons and no way to escape, he'd probably lose. All in all, don't expect him to do any heavy-lifting or fisticuffs.
Weapons: A double-edged shortsword and a parrying dagger that can be used as a weapon in a pinch. A light crossbow and a quiver of bolts. Frankly, far too many knives.
Equipment: He carries an apothecary pouch containing a variety of basic ingredients. A set of lockpicks. Climbing harness and rope.
Other Skills: Osric's knowledge of alchemy and herbalism lies in more than just poisons. With the right equipment, ingredients and time, he's able to craft healing salves and common remedies, as well as many other miscellaneous substances. He's an agile climber and has a decent grasp of politics and fine etiquette.

Bio: Osric was left on the doorsteps of an orphanage in the slums of Aldun as a baby. He was a sickly child, scrawnier and smaller than the other kids, and naturally, was often bullied and beaten. It took a few bruises and a broken nose, but in the end, he learnt to blend in and not pick to many fights, and when that didn't work, how to be on the winning side. He didn't get hurt so much after that. Harsh lessons for a child, but he had to grow up quick.

Osric ran away from the orphanage at the age of 7, and would spend the next few years of his childhood learning to take care of himself and himself only. He found he had a talent for mischief, where light feet and deft hands meant fewer nights spent in the gutters with an empty stomach and a bruised side, and so he got better at it until that was all he knew how to do. He was 10 when he finally robbed the wrong person: a raven-haired woman who carried herself with a dignified air not often found in the slums. At the time, it mattered little to Osric who she was, perhaps a lost noblewoman who had taken the wrong turn, but the coins in her purse bought him the best meals he had ever had and a proper bed for a week. The woman found him at the end of that week. He swore he she was more impressed than angered, but still, she was furious enough.

He was brought to the the castle, but instead of be throwing him in the dungeons, she gave him a bed in the servant's quarters, then had him fed, clothed and washed. Those in the right circles would know the woman as Lady Melissa Tolvere, the webweaver behind the throne. She was no Lady, of course, a bastard daughter of some dead Lord with no children of her own. Osric would spend the rest of his childhood under her guidance - an apprentice of sorts. His training was rigorous and exhausting, and he struggled with the letters that he was only now learning. Yet, he couldn't complain; it was the first time he had felt kindness.

That was some years ago. Ancient history. As a spy, Osric was sent on his first assignment when he was 14. As an assassin, he killed his first target at 16 with a dose of deadly nightshade. He was raised to serve the throne and the throne only, though in truth his loyalty lies only in himself and the now old woman who pulled him out of the gutters, and it was in her honor that he chose his last name

Other: He speaks with the accent of a commoner, despite having the mannerisms of a courtier. Those observant enough might find it curious.

 

[Blaire Wisteria]

Name: Xander Cane

Age: 38

Gender: Male

Appearance:

Class:

Class Skills: As a trader, Xander has access to vast amounts of wealth and connections with both the elite of society and the criminal underground. Hey, not every deal is squeaky clean, and you know it. A way with words and money, the trader uses both to their advantage. Traders are as complex in their actions as they are straightforward in their objectives, namely, to turn a profit. As a trader, he represents prosperity and civility, while his thirst for wealth caters to a more adventurous life style. Always in search of the perfect product or to establish a more profitable trade route. He excels at gathering information, bartering and negotiating his way out of all but the most dire of situations. Usually, he resorts to bribery should it further his agenda, and has an uncanny ability to make even the most strict individuals take these "gifts" (often without their knowing it).

Limitations: Not everyone can be bought and not every situation can be solved with diplomacy.

Weapons: A rapier and a shortsword.

Equipment: A backpack with another set of fine silk clothing, a journal listing all of his current and potential future ones, a long list of names and the debts they owe written next to them, and about $30,000 in gold and silver.

Other Skills: Xander has many contacts well throughout the lands and has the chance to pull some strings in order to gain some advantage or obtain some information, for a price. He is also a well educated connoisseur and quite the expert when it comes to appraising the items of his trade. Coming from a long line of educated lords and merchants, Xander knows many languages, is well educated, is classically trained in the art of the sword. He considers himself a great duelist able to utilize a rapier to it's full potential.

Bio: Xander was born third son to the duke, Zacharias Cane, and duchess, Olivette Cane, two of the most powerful nobles in the realm apart from the royal family itself. His family attends directly to the monarch itself and has the highest place at court. His families lands, titles, and estates are significant, and many lords and knights serve under their command.

His early years were spent attending a private academy where he studied a great number of skills and gained training to continue on with the family's trading business as he wasn't going to be inheriting his parents legacy. He was a brilliant student that passed most of his classes with flying colors, and the one he didn't were still passed with relative ease. This university environment was his home for a good portion of his formative years.

It wasn't until his later teen years that he returned home full of knowledge on the art of the deal. Over the next several years, Xander spent countless weeks going to and from cities, establishing major trade routes and buying out smaller businesses to fuel his own. Now, years later, he has garnered himself a vast fortune and a reputation for holding nothing back.

Seeing that there was a fortune in the emerging weapons technology coming from Ragor to be made, he had to be the first one in Thura to get his hands on it.

Other: He'll do anything it takes to turn a profit. Anything.

 

[Shog]

Name: Osric Tolvere
Age: 25
Gender: Male

Appearance:

Class:

Class Skills: Osric Tolvere has been trained from a young age in a myriad of clandestine subjects - pretty much anything that would be expected of an spy and oftentimes, assassin: quick-witted and quick on his feet, and talented with the arts of the blade and crossbow. He's well-versed in how get into places he's not supposed to be and how to get out without being seen. Osric has also mastered the language of deceit and disguises, and is fluent in that of poisons.
Limitations: While he is by no means out of shape, Osric would be considered neither strong nor imposing. Naturally lithe and frankly, a bit short, in a straight up brawl without his weapons and no way to escape, he'd probably lose. All in all, don't expect him to do any heavy-lifting or fisticuffs.
Weapons: A double-edged shortsword and a parrying dagger that can be used as a weapon in a pinch. A light crossbow and a quiver of bolts. Frankly, far too many knives.
Equipment: He carries an apothecary pouch containing a variety of basic ingredients.
Other Skills: Osric's knowledge of alchemy and herbalism lies in more than just poisons. With the right equipment, ingredients and time, he's able to craft healing salves and common remedies, as well as many other miscellaneous substances. He's an agile climber and has a decent grasp of politics and fine etiquette.

Bio: Osric was left on the doorsteps of an orphanage in the slums of Aldun as a baby. He was a sickly child, scrawnier and smaller than the other kids, and naturally, was often bullied and beaten. It took a few bruises and a broken nose, but in the end, he learnt to blend in and not pick to many fights, and when that didn't work, how to be on the winning side. He didn't get hurt so much after that. Harsh lessons for a child, but he had to grow up quick.

Osric ran away from the orphanage at the age of 7, and would spend the next few years of his childhood learning to take care of himself and himself only. He found he had a talent for mischief, where light feet and deft hands meant fewer nights spent in the gutters with an empty stomach and a bruised side. And so he got better at it until that was all he knew how to do. He was 10 when he finally robbed the wrong person: a raven-haired woman who carried herself with a dignified air not often found in the slums. At the time, it mattered little to Osric who she was, perhaps a lost noblewoman who had taken the wrong turn, but the coins in her purse bought him the best meals he had ever had and a proper bed for a week. The woman found him at the end of that week. He swore he she was more impressed than angered, but still, she was furious enough.

He was brought to the the castle, but instead of being thrown in the dungeons, she gave him a bed in the servant's quarters, then had him fed, clothed and washed. Those in the right circles would know the woman as Lady Melissa Tolvere, the webweaver behind the throne. She was no Lady, of course, a bastard daughter of some dead Lord with no children of her own. Osric would spend the rest of his childhood under her guidance - an apprentice of sorts. His training was rigorous and exhausting, and he struggled with the letters that we was only now learning. Yet, he couldn't complain. It was the first time he felt kindness.

That was some years ago. Ancient history. As a spy, Osric was sent on his first assignment when he was 14. As an assassin, he killed his first target at 16 with a dose of deadly nightshade. He was raised to serve the throne and the throne only, though in truth his loyalty lies only in himself and the now old woman who pulled him out of the gutters, and it was in her honor that he chose his last name

Other: He speaks with the accent of a commoner, despite having the mannerisms of a courtier. Those observant enough might find it curious.

Accepted.

 

[NekoQueen49]

Name: Fortune Poulett
Age: 20
Gender: Female
Appearance:

Class:

Class Skills: As a Beastmaster, Fortune has the ability to tame and befriend any animal. She can command them to her will, having them fight for her or even send messages and such. Spending so much time around animals caused her to be sort of like one, allowing her to traverse the wild just as well as any animal. She can even speak to them to a certain degree, having learned both their verbal and body language.
Limitations: The longer she spends with an animal, the more affection it has for her meaning that she can't control an animal very well if she just met it. That, and since she prefers to not engage in violence and allowing her beasts to fight her battles for her, on her own, Fortune is very combat weak.
Weapons: A single knife
Equipment: N/a
Other Skills: Expert survivalist
Bio: Fortune began her life very ill, under the caring hands of her parents. It was uncertain whether or not that she would survive and the only reason that the healers suspected that she survived was through pure power of will or some type of miracle. Even so, her father tried everything he could to make sure that she got better. In doing so, she was kept away, made to stay indoors for fear of another bout and unknowingly left her in hands of the mother that was purposely making her sick in order to force her father to stay home. His position as a trader meant he often meant that he would have travel but if they had a sick child, he would be forced to stay. It only worked for a time until poverty threatened the family from every day expenses and the healer bills and another child was conceived. Still, Fortune was bedridden from the years of poisoning and the only world that she glimpsed was either from the inside of books or glances out the window. Birds would sing to her, giving her some type of reprieve from the monotony that was her life. At the age of ten, she finally dared to venture out, draw from the safety of her house by one of those singing birds. Fortune was attacked by her illness once again, this time in the outdoors where no one would come to save her. The healers mistakenly pronounced her dead.

They buried her body and a wolf dug her up. At dawn, she woke to find herself surrounded by the creatures of the forest that bordered the village she grew up in. The forest that adopted for reasons that were unknown to her. And there she lived, learning the ways of the wild, dead to her family. Taken away from her mother's treachery, Fortune grew well again and was free from the sickness.
Other: Vegetarian

 

[Shog]

WIP​

Name: Xander Cane

Age: 38

Gender: Male

Appearance:

Class:

Class Skills: As a trader, Xander has access to vast amounts of wealth and connections with both the elite of society and the criminal underground. Hey, not every deal is squeaky clean, and you know it. A way with words and money, the trader uses both to their advantage. Traders are as complex in their actions as they are straightforward in their objectives, namely, to turn a profit. As a trader, he represents prosperity and civility, while his thirst for wealth caters to a more adventurous life style. Always in search of the perfect product or to establish a more profitable trade route. He excels at gathering information, bartering and negotiating his way out of all but the most dire of situations. Usually, he resorts to bribery should it further his agenda, and has an uncanny ability to make even the most strict individuals take these "gifts" (often without their knowing it).

Limitations: Not everyone can be bought and not every situation can be solved with diplomacy.

Weapons: A rapier and a shortsword.

Equipment:

Other Skills: Xander has many contacts well throughout the lands and has the chance to pull some strings in order to gain some advantage or obtain some information, for a price. He is also a well educated connoisseur and quite the expert when it comes to appraising the items of his trade. Coming from a long line of educated lords and merchants, Xander knows many languages, is well educated, is classically trained in the art of the sword. He considers himself a great duelist able to utilize a rapier to it's full potential.

Bio:

Other:

I'd love to have this character in the RP, so here's a friendly remainder.

Name: Fortune Poulett
Age: 20
Gender: Female
Appearance:

Class:

Class Skills: As a Beastmaster, Fortune has the ability to tame and befriend any animal. She can command them to her will, having them fight for her or even send messages and such. Spending so much time around animals caused her to be sort of like one, allowing her to traverse the wild just as well as any animal. She can even speak to them to a certain degree, having learned both their verbal and body language.
Limitations: The longer she spends with an animal, the more affection it has for her meaning that she can't control an animal very well if she just met it. That, and since she prefers to not engage in violence and allowing her beasts to fight her battles for her, on her own, Fortune is very combat weak.
Weapons: A single knife
Equipment: N/a
Other Skills: Expert survivalist
Bio: Fortune began her life very ill. It was uncertain whether or not that she would survive and the only reason that the healers suspected that she survived was through pure power of will or some type of miracle. However, even a miracle didn't last as it seemed death found her at the age of ten.

They buried her body and a wolf dug her up. At dawn, she woke to find herself surrounded by the creatures of the forest that bordered the village she grew up in. The forest that adopted for reasons that were unknown to her. And there she lived, learning the ways of the wild, dead to her family. Her illnesses seemed to have all but disappeared away from the towns and cities.
Other: Vegetarian

Would you mind expanding on her bio? It just feels a bit, I don't know, flat at the moment.

Name: Dorian Raizel

Age: 16 / ~36

Gender: Male

Appearance:

​

Class:

​

Class Skills: How or why no one is able to say, but Dorian suffers from the unusual condition of being unable to die. He hasn't aged a day in decades, and he's never once gotten sick in that time. He's been beaten and stabbed, burned and drown, none stuck for long. As soon as the knife was removed, or the flames put out, or his body was puled from the canal the injuries would quickly fade and he'd open his eyes as if nothing had happened. He can heal he wounds of others by sharing his blood with them. A bit of blood over a wound will have it healed in a matter of seconds, and drinking his blood will cure most diseases just as quick. Drinking enough of his blood can even grant a person some of his healing ability for a time. There is the side effect of losing the ability to feel pain for a while afterwards, but most tend to not mind that so long as their injuries are gone. This applies to Dorian as well. After recovering from a more severe injury his entire body can be left numb.

Limitations: Dorian is not physically strong at all, and he has no fighting ability to speak of.
Equipment: A golden cross, three silver scalpels with slightly different blades, two pairs of scissors, one for cutting clothes and the other for cutting flesh, a heavier serrated knife, bandages, alcohol to wash wounds and some for his patients to drink.

Weapons: Dorian carries two daggers with him, but most of his medical instruments would do the job just as well.

Other Skills: Dorian is a good cook, so long as he remembers what ingredients won't poison a normal person. Well even if he does accidentally serve something poisonous he can always serve a cup of his blood for dessert to make things all right.

Bio: Dorian wasn't breathing when he was born. His skin was purple and cold one moment, and then the next it faded and he opened his eyes - they were so bright and red even then - and he started crying. Death had rejected him. Nothing was thought about it for years, but as time went on it was impossible to ignore all the times where Dorian should have been hurt but always emerged unscathed. When he was bitten by a venomous snake, when he fell down the hill into rocks, when he grabbed hot food right out of the fire with his bare hands. His father, a man of God, kept his son's condition secret from the world. He always said that God had a plan to use Dorian for something special, and when it was discovered that his blood could heal others he thought that was it.

Dorian healed so many people, but that must not have been what his power was for after all because God brought a storm with lightning that burned down his father's church with them all inside. Dorian was the only survivor of his family. Of course he survived. In the rubble of his home, surrounded by his mother and father, he had burned alive until the flames had been extinguished by the rain so many hours later. He disappeared for years after that, and with him went the stories of the miracle boy who could heal any injury or sickness. At least for a while.

He tried to help people in between his aimless wandering, but it always ended up the same. Eventually someone would try to use him for their own gain, and he'd either be forced to flee elsewhere or be forced to do what they wanted until he did find a way to get away. The worst of these people was a doctor. He acted so kind, Dorian never thought to run until after it was too late. The man sold the locals a miracle medicine that could cure any illness, and for once it actually worked. But he only cared about the money they were wiling to pay for it once word got around that it would really cure anything. That person kept Dorian prisoner for years, selling his blood as an elixir to the people, torturing in the name of scientific experimentation whenever he got bored. Then one day a person investigating the doctor's famous miracle potion found Dorian. He tried to rescue him, but the doctor came back. There was a fight, and at the end of it both men were dead with Dorian once again left the only one living.

He's done his best to keep a low profile, but even still anyone who keeps an ear to the streets might hear the odd stories about a person's wounds being healed by a young man, or of towns cured of sickness overnight, or of a person being killed only to get back up and keep moving. That's how you know Dorian is still wandering around using his curse to heal others. Some of the people he helps give him a place to stay for a while, others money. He can always survive even without that though. It's the one thing he's good at.

Other: Dorian was raised believing in God, but after everything he's been through his belief has become a bit... complicated. He frequently asks others if they believe in God.

Would you mind slowing his regenerative properties? It just feels a bit too powerful at the moment.

 

[Blaire Wisteria]

I'd love to have this character in the RP, so here's a friendly remainder.

Would you mind expanding on her bio? It just feels a bit, I don't know, flat at the moment.

Would you mind slowing his regenerative properties? It just feels a bit too powerful at the moment.

Quick question. How much is a lot of money at the time of the RP?

 

[NekoQueen49]

Would you mind expanding on her bio? It just feels a bit, I don't know, flat at the moment.

Any better?

 

[Shog]

Name: Fortune Poulett
Age: 20
Gender: Female
Appearance:

Class:

Class Skills: As a Beastmaster, Fortune has the ability to tame and befriend any animal. She can command them to her will, having them fight for her or even send messages and such. Spending so much time around animals caused her to be sort of like one, allowing her to traverse the wild just as well as any animal. She can even speak to them to a certain degree, having learned both their verbal and body language.
Limitations: The longer she spends with an animal, the more affection it has for her meaning that she can't control an animal very well if she just met it. That, and since she prefers to not engage in violence and allowing her beasts to fight her battles for her, on her own, Fortune is very combat weak.
Weapons: A single knife
Equipment: N/a
Other Skills: Expert survivalist
Bio: Fortune began her life very ill, under the caring hands of her parents. It was uncertain whether or not that she would survive and the only reason that the healers suspected that she survived was through pure power of will or some type of miracle. Even so, her father tried everything he could to make sure that she got better. In doing so, she was kept away, made to stay indoors for fear of another bout and unknowingly left her in hands of the mother that was purposely making her sick in order to force her father to stay home. His position as a trader meant he often meant that he would have travel but if they had a sick child, he would be forced to stay. It only worked for a time until poverty threatened the family from every day expenses and the healer bills and another child was conceived. Still, Fortune was bedridden from the years of poisoning and the only world that she glimpsed was either from the inside of books or glances out the window. Birds would sing to her, giving her some type of reprieve from the monotony that was her life. At the age of ten, she finally dared to venture out, draw from the safety of her house by one of those singing birds. Fortune was attacked by her illness once again, this time in the outdoors where no one would come to save her. The healers mistakenly pronounced her dead.

They buried her body and a wolf dug her up. At dawn, she woke to find herself surrounded by the creatures of the forest that bordered the village she grew up in. The forest that adopted for reasons that were unknown to her. And there she lived, learning the ways of the wild, dead to her family. Taken away from her mother's treachery, Fortune grew well again and was free from the sickness.
Other: Vegetarian

Accepted.

 

[Shog]

Quick question. How much is a lot of money at the time of the RP?

For simplicity's sake I'm just going to make it equal to modern day US dollars. Currency work only in the form of coins (gold, silver, and bronze). 1 bronze coin roughly equals a dollar, 10 bronze pieces equal a silver coin, and 10 silver pieces equal 1 gold coin. I hope this helped.

 

[Sizniche]

Name: Nathaniel Stone
Age: 23
Gender: Male
Appearance:

Class:

Class Skills: Aside from his talent with navigation and survival, he learns new skills at an almost unmatched rate, doing in months or even weeks what could take some people a lifetime of dedication. His insatiable curiosity and passion for trying and learning new things has led to him turning learning and exploring into somewhat of an art an his eyes, and, like any other art, practice makes perfect. He constantly strives to pick up new skills, whether or not they'll actually be of any use to him, just as a means of improving his method of learning. Aside from this, he is also skilled at surviving from years of exploring the wilderness, as well as hunting, skinning, and foraging.
Limitations: As a result of never being in a real fight, which he thanks his lucky stars for, he has no combat training or experience yet. As a result of being commonborn, he cannot learn magical skills no matter how hard he tries, and combat skills are an uncertain front to him as he has no experience with learning them yet and his learning method might not apply as well to such skills. In addition, the commoner lifestyle and diet of his childhood has lead to him having weak bones and a smaller frame.
Weapons: His only weapons are a light-stringed shortbow that can only muster enough force to kill creatures the size of a rabbit or smaller, and a very basic, hand-made Macuahuitl that he made himself from a few obsidian stones he managed to gather up.
Equipment: He carries a rucksack with a bedroll on top of it. Within the rucksack is a skinning knife, a length of rope, a cooking pan, a tinderbox, a waterskin, a paper with an incomplete map, and a few writing charcoals. He carries three copper in his coinpurse.
Other Skills: His learned skills include farming, leatherworking, tailoring, quilting, knitting, engraving, carpentry, sheep shearing, bone carving, basic engineering, cheesemaking, fishing, basket weaving, mathematics, cartography, tracking, and a small pinch of herbalism.
Bio: Nate was born the second son to a poor commoner family, with a strong curiosity of the natural world, and a desire to travel. His parents used to tell him that it was almost impossible to keep him in the house, and that they never had to teach him to walk simply because he learned on his own on account of it being a faster way of moving around and exploring than crawling everywhere. Ever since he was three, he was a natural explorer, and, since his range was limited to the village he was born in at the time, he made a point of it to know every little detail about his town; there were sixty seven people exactly living in the town, ten of which were children, a den of rats lived under a bridge crossing a stream near town, the local tavern's Meade was made with honey from an apiary hidden on the edge of town, deep into the forest to the southwest, and the only elderberry bush in the entire town is on the local lord's property. Eventually, he grew up and was allowed to explore a greater range, and he carried his eye for detail with him.
A few weeks before he turned twenty, his father passed away. Nobody was particularly surprised; in fact, most of the family was happy he got to live a long, full life, dying at the ripe old age of 46. Hey, it's better than most people. Ultimately, the little land the family owned all went to his older brother. Nate wasn't bothered by this in the slightest; his brother had already started a family, and if they split the land they'd both starve to death within a year. In fact, he saw this as an opportunity. Since he was no longer tethered to his homeland, he could finally go out and see the world he always wanted to see.
So, for three years, he lived off of the land, slept under the stars, and hunted and foraged whatever he needed. He saw everything from great cities to small hamlets and all the wilderness in between. He found small curiosities that the common man would take for granted, yet he was always fascinated by the small details he found. What little money he had, he made through selling regional maps and charts to travelers, recommending directions and places to stay. Even common men like he used to be sometimes look down at him and scoff, seeing him as living no better than a beggar, but, in his mind, he knew he was happier than the richest of men.
Other: He has grown a taste for various alcohols, especially cheap ale.

EDIT: Figured I'd add a theme song since that's what all the cool kids are doing nowadays, and I stumbled across something appropriate for my character.

 

[Shog]

Name: Nathaniel Stone
Age: 23
Gender: Male
Appearance:

Class:

Class Skills: Aside from his talent with navigation and survival, he learns new skills at an almost unmatched rate, doing in months or even weeks what could take some people a lifetime of dedication. His insatiable curiosity and passion for trying and learning new things has led to him turning learning and exploring into somewhat of an art an his eyes, and, like any other art, practice makes perfect. He constantly strives to pick up new skills, whether or not they'll actually be of any use to him, just as a means of improving his method of learning. Aside from this, he is also skilled at surviving from years of exploring the wilderness, as well as hunting, skinning, and foraging.
Limitations: As a result of never being in a real fight, which he thanks his lucky stars for, he has no combat training or experience yet. As a result of being commonborn, he cannot learn magical skills no matter how hard he tries, and combat skills are an uncertain front to him as he has no experience with learning them yet and his learning method might not apply as well to such skills. In addition, the commoner lifestyle and diet of his childhood has lead to him having weak bones and a smaller frame.
Weapons: His only weapons are a light-stringed shortbow that can only muster enough force to kill creatures the size of a rabbit or smaller, and a very basic, hand-made Macuahuitl that me made himself from a few obsidian stones he managed to gather up.
Equipment: He carries a rucksack with a bedroll on top of it. Within the rucksack is a skinning knife, a length of rope, a cooking pan, a tinderbox, a waterskin, a paper with an incomplete map, and a few writing charcoals. He carries three copper in his coinpurse.
Other Skills: His learned skills include farming, leatherworking, tailoring, quilting, knitting, engraving, carpentry, sheep shearing, bone carving, basic engineering, cheesemaking, fishing, basket weaving, mathematics, cartography, tracking, and a small pinch of herbalism.
Bio: Nate was born the second son to a poor commoner family, with a strong curiosity of the natural world, and a desire to travel. His parents used to tell him that it was almost impossible to keep him in the house, and that they never had to teach him to walk simply because he learned on his own on account of it being a faster way of moving around and exploring than crawling everywhere. Ever since he was three, he was a natural explorer, and, since his range was limited to the village he was born in at the time, he made a point of it to know every little detail about his town; there were sixty seven people exactly living in the town, ten of which were children, a den of rats lived under a bridge crossing a stream near town, the local tavern's Meade was made with honey from an apiary hidden on the edge of town, deep into the forest to the southwest, and the only elderberry bush in the entire town is on the local lord's property. Eventually, he grew up and was allowed to explore a greater range, and he carried his eye for detail with him.
A few weeks before he turned twenty, his father passed away. Nobody was particularly surprised; in fact, most of the family was happy he got to live a long, full life, dying at the ripe old age of 46. Hey, it's better than most people. Ultimately, the little land the family owned all went to his older brother. Nate wasn't bothered by this in the slightest; his brother had already started a family, and if they split the land they'd both starve to death within a year. In fact, he saw this as an opportunity. Since he was no longer tethered to his homeland, he could finally go out and see the world he always wanted to see.
So, for three years, he lived off of the land, slept under the stars, and hunted and foraged whatever he needed. He saw everything from great cities to small hamlets and all the wilderness in between. He found small curiosities that the common man would take for granted, yet he was always fascinated by the small details he found. What little money he had, he made through selling regional maps and charts to travelers, recommending directions and places to stay. Even common men like he used to be sometimes look down at him and scoff, seeing him as living no better than a beggar, but, in his mind, he knew he was happier than the richest of men.
Other: He has grown a taste for various alcohols, especially cheap ale.

Accepted. Fun fact: Most people who survived infancy actually lived to their 60's or 70's (baring unnatural or unusual causes of death). The misconception that people only lived until their 40's in medieval times only exists because people did not remove the obscene number of infant fatalities from their calculations.

 

[Sizniche]

Accepted. Fun fact: Most people who survived infancy actually lived to their 60's or 70's (baring unnatural or unusual causes of death). The misconception that people only lived until their 40's in medieval times only exists because people did not remove the obscene number of infant fatalities from their calculations.

Huh, neat. I'll have to remember that in future roleplays.

EDIT: That's the flaw of averages for you, huh?

 

[Ms. Sparrow]

Name:
Sadima Peterova

Age:
23

Gender:
Female

Appearance:

Class:

Class Skills:
The ability to manipulate the dead.
Sadima is able to raise them deep from there graves, inhabit there minds and even communicate with them. This is especially useful when wanting secrets of the dead found out, and ancient mysteries solved. She is able to raise multiple at a time, manipulate them in whichever way they want, and force them to serve under her. She does this by forcing there spirits
back into there bodies, or by simply just controlling them with her mind. She can do this with a large group of undead, depending on the type of animal or beings.

Limitations:
However, resurrecting and controlling so many dead at a time could lead to nasty side effects, and sometimes could be deadly. The longer the dead are alive, and the more they are takes its tole and could lead to her blacking out, becoming sick and weak for a time as well. The more powerful a being or animal was in life also effects Sadima. For example, resurrecting a tiny beetle won't effect Sadima whatsoever until a few days later, but resurrecting a powerful mage or giant animal would take a faster and quicker tole on her. And if she communicates with the dead for long, it starts to give her a headache. All in all, the longer she uses her power the harder it wears on her. If Sadima were also perhaps wanting to resurrect an undead army or anything of the such, she would most likely need to perform a sacrificial ritual on a more powerful being, to gain enough power. Or multiple beings depending on the amount of animals or people she
needed to resurrect and control.

Weapons:
Her only weapons consist of a small, sharp, curved sacrificial dagger made of human bone. Her other weapon is a light, one handed sword made from the darkest material, that makes the jagged blade almost black, with strange silver enscriptions carved into the hilt of a handle.

Equipment:
The only things she carries are a leather satchel, which contains some currency, a few glass vials of strange liquid, and a journal with a quill and ink, along with some
folded letters hidden in the book.

Other Skills:
Due to spending her time as a thief for quite a while, Sadima is practiced in the art of stealth, and knows how to hide cleverly in the shadows, to climb and escape trouble in minutes and more, and knows the art of making a few poisons, knowing only a few hazardous
herbs.

Bio:
She was not always dark.
Sadima was born on a farm, with a loving older brother, and a distant father whom could only see her mother in her. Her mother died giving birth to her. So Maven, her only brother, took care of Sadima, unlike his father he did not blame Sadima for there mothers death, but he shared his father hatred for magic users equally as well. Her father was an empty shell, he never seemed to acknowledge Sadima, treated her as if she was invisible. The few words he did speak was to Maven, other then that he just stared out his window all day long, withering away slowly.

Life was simple until the age of four. Maven's favorite horse had died of old age. Sadima grieved that her brother was sad, and as she stared hard at the horse all she could do was feel a pull from deep down inside her, something dark in her. Somehow she learned how to grasp it once at that time, and for a moment the horse stood up and let out a scream of agony before the horse dropped dead lifeless once more. Maven was horrified as he watched Sadima's eyes fade from flaming, glowing blue to their normal dark blue. In the few seconds the horse had lived, Sadima had gained a nose bleed, and had become sick, vomiting for the next two minutes. Her father was full of hatred and booted her out at only four, and Maven, refusing to let her go out and most likely die, joined her.

The two set out on a journey and resided in village to village, the children going from beggars to thieves and in Sadima's teens she was a very good one at that. They raided homes each night, and had made a comfortable living until Sadima's seventeenth birthday. They had robbed a wealthy lord in one of the more populated villages, and on their way out of town, escaping through a graveyard, they were surrounded by his hired men. Completely outnumbered. There was a fight, and Maven was killed in battle. Sadima went into a blind rage of grief, the darkness called out to her and she resurrected corpses from all around her, horrifying the hired thugs, and in there terror they fell by the decaying corpses and skeletons and even Maven himself. Sadima was able to say her goodbye to her brother before she let his spirit go. She's been on the run since, learning how to wield her powers and how to control them more, and deep down she knows the more she uses it, the darker her heart turns.

Other:
(Theme song. Sadima struggles with being good, her dark magic has consumed most of whom she once was.)​

​

 

[Shog]

Name:
Sadima Peterova

Age:
23

Gender:
Female

Appearance:

Class:

Class Skills:
The ability to manipulate the dead.
Sadima is able to raise them deep from there graves, inhabit there minds and even communicate with them. This is especially useful when wanting secrets of the dead found out, and ancient mysteries solved. She is able to raise multiple at a time, manipulate them in whichever way they want, and force them to serve under her. She does this by forcing there spirits
back into there bodies, or by simply just controlling them with her mind. She can do this with a large group of undead, depending on the type of animal or beings.

Limitations:
However, resurrecting and controlling so many dead at a time could lead to nasty side effects, and sometimes could be deadly. The longer the dead are alive, and the more they are takes its tole and could lead to her blacking out, becoming sick and weak for a time as well. The more powerful a being or animal was in life also effects Sadima. For example, resurrecting a tiny beetle won't effect Sadima whatsoever until a few days later, but resurrecting a powerful mage or giant animal would take a faster and quicker tole on her. And if she communicates with the dead for long, it starts to give her a headache. All in all, the longer she uses her power the harder it wears on her. If Sadima were also perhaps wanting to resurrect an undead army or anything of the such, she would most likely need to perform a sacrificial ritual on a more powerful being, to gain enough power. Or multiple beings depending on the amount of animals or people she
needed to resurrect and control.

Weapons:
Her only weapons consist of a small, sharp, curved sacrificial dagger made of human bone. Her other weapon is a light, one handed sword made from the darkest material, that makes the jagged blade almost black, with strange silver enscriptions carved into the hilt of a handle.

Equipment:
The only things she carries are a leather satchel, which contains some currency, a few glass vials of strange liquid, and a journal with a quill and ink, along with some
folded letters hidden in the book.

Other Skills:
Due to spending her time as a thief for quite a while, Sadima is practiced in the art of stealth, and knows how to hide cleverly in the shadows, to climb and escape trouble in minutes and more, and knows the art of making a few poisons, knowing only a few hazardous
herbs.

Bio:
She was not always dark.
Sadima was born on a farm, with a loving older brother, and a distant father whom could only see her mother in her. Her mother died giving birth to her. So Maven, her only brother, took care of Sadima, unlike his father he did not blame Sadima for there mothers death, but he shared his father hatred for magic users equally as well. Her father was an empty shell, he never seemed to acknowledge Sadima, treated her as if she was invisible. The few words he did speak was to Maven, other then that he just stared out his window all day long, withering away slowly.

Life was simple until the age of four. Maven's favorite horse had died of old age. Sadima grieved that her brother was sad, and as she stared hard at the horse all she could do was feel a pull from deep down inside her, something dark in her. Somehow she learned how to grasp it once at that time, and for a moment the horse stood up and let out a scream of agony before the horse dropped dead lifeless once more. Maven was horrified as he watched Sadima's eyes fade from flaming, glowing blue to their normal dark blue. In the few seconds the horse had lived, Sadima had gained a nose bleed, and had become sick, vomiting for the next two minutes. Her father was full of hatred and booted her out at only four, and Maven, refusing to let her go out and most likely die, joined her.

The two set out on a journey and resided in village to village, the children going from beggars to thieves and in Sadima's teens she was a very good one at that. They raided homes each night, and had made a comfortable living until Sadima's seventeenth birthday. They had robbed a wealthy lord in one of the more populated villages, and on their way out of town, escaping through a graveyard, they were surrounded by his hired men. Completely outnumbered. There was a fight, and Maven was killed in battle. Sadima went into a blind rage of grief, the darkness called out to her and she resurrected corpses from all around her, horrifying the hired thugs, and in there terror they fell by the decaying corpses and skeletons and even Maven himself. Sadima was able to say her goodbye to her brother before she let his spirit go. She's been on the run since, learning how to wield her powers and how to control them more, and deep down she knows the more she uses it, the darker her heart turns.

Other:
(Theme song. Sadima struggles with being good, her dark magic has consumed most of whom she once was.)​

​

Accepted. And I'm going to be that a-hole who's going to point out that every time you wrote "there" in your Class Skills section you meant "their."

 

[Blaire Wisteria]

I believe that I am done with my CS now.

 

[Shog]

WIP​

Name: Xander Cane

Age: 38

Gender: Male

Appearance:

Class:

Class Skills: As a trader, Xander has access to vast amounts of wealth and connections with both the elite of society and the criminal underground. Hey, not every deal is squeaky clean, and you know it. A way with words and money, the trader uses both to their advantage. Traders are as complex in their actions as they are straightforward in their objectives, namely, to turn a profit. As a trader, he represents prosperity and civility, while his thirst for wealth caters to a more adventurous life style. Always in search of the perfect product or to establish a more profitable trade route. He excels at gathering information, bartering and negotiating his way out of all but the most dire of situations. Usually, he resorts to bribery should it further his agenda, and has an uncanny ability to make even the most strict individuals take these "gifts" (often without their knowing it).

Limitations: Not everyone can be bought and not every situation can be solved with diplomacy.

Weapons: A rapier and a shortsword.

Equipment: A backpack with another set of fine silk clothing, a journal listing all of his current and potential future ones, a long list of names and the debts they owe written next to them, and about $30,000 in gold and silver.

Other Skills: Xander has many contacts well throughout the lands and has the chance to pull some strings in order to gain some advantage or obtain some information, for a price. He is also a well educated connoisseur and quite the expert when it comes to appraising the items of his trade. Coming from a long line of educated lords and merchants, Xander knows many languages, is well educated, is classically trained in the art of the sword. He considers himself a great duelist able to utilize a rapier to it's full potential.

Bio: Xander was born third son to the duke, Zacharias Cane, and duchess, Olivette Cane, two of the most powerful nobles in the realm apart from the royal family itself. His family attends directly to the monarch itself and has the highest place at court. His families lands, titles, and estates are significant, and many lords and knights serve under their command.

His early years were spent attending a private academy where he studied a great number of skills and gained training to continue on with the family's trading business as he wasn't going to be inheriting his parents legacy. He was a brilliant student that passed most of his classes with flying colors, and the one he didn't were still passed with relative ease. This university environment was his home for a good portion of his formative years.

It wasn't until his later teen years that he returned home full of knowledge on the art of the deal. Over the next several years, Xander spent countless weeks going to and from cities, establishing major trade routes and buying out smaller businesses to fuel his own. Now, years later, he has garnered himself a vast fortune and a reputation for holding nothing back.

Seeing that there was a fortune in the emerging weapons technology coming from Ragor to be made, he had to be the first one in Thura to get his hands on it.

Other: He'll do anything it takes to turn a profit. Anything.

Accepted.

 

[Shog]

Hello all. Tuesdays and Thursdays are by far my busiest days of the week, but I will have the main RP up later today. It might not be until 8:00 MST, but it will be up! Thank you all for your patience.

 

[Shog]

Just in case the tags didn't work, the main thread is up: Hope of a Nation

 

[marshmarrow]

Name: Ellery Saxon

Age: 26

Gender: Female

Appearance:

​

Class Skills: With an IQ in the stratosphere, Saxon is capable of utilizing every unit in a battalion or armada to its maximum capabilities. Not a single weapon, body, or scrap of metal is wasted in her strategies, which are as complex as they are simple. She's a brilliant fighter--proficient in both long-range and melee combat. While she prefers the efficiency of bows, she isn't adverse to the honorable swordfight, and normally has a blade on her at all times. Her face is completely unreadable when she needs it to be--she is very careful to keep her expressions under control.

Limitations: While Saxon is fit, she is small, and as a woman, is often assumed to need protection. She lacks brute strength, and despite what she knows--and what she can teach herself--she lacks practical experience on the battlefield. It is hard for her to find work due to the fact she is simply not what most commanders are looking for. However, she always proves herself to be a valuable resource, even if she is green.

Weapons: A lightweight longbow, and a longsword dubbed "Firestarter."

Equipment: Always carries a quill and parchment, a compass, and a medical bag.

Other Skills: She has a head for numbers and enjoys riding on horseback. She's quick with languages and is familiar with several; her first tongue is similar to Gaelic, and seldom spoken by either Thura or Ragor, so she uses it to encrypt her notes.

Bio: She was raised in the mountains of a conquered province by her father, who was a noble warrior in his own right. She trained her mind and body and was taught the arts of both combat and strategy, as though she were his son. When she was of age, she accompanied her father on his campaigns, learning a variety of skills and familiarizing herself with the Thuran army. Saxon was never particularly close to her father, addressing him as far, sir and rarely receiving more than verbal praise or a hand on her shoulder. Even with her course upbringing, she acts nothing short of composed and professional.

Other: Is always addressed as "Saxon," and has a lilting accent that veils, rather than masks her words.

 

[Shog]

Name: Ellery Saxon

Age: 26

Gender: Female

Appearance:

​

Class Skills: With an IQ in the stratosphere, Saxon is capable of utilizing every unit in a battalion or armada to its maximum capabilities. Not a single weapon, body, or scrap of metal is wasted in her strategies, which are as complex as they are simple. She's a brilliant fighter--proficient in both long-range and melee combat. While she prefers the efficiency of bows, she isn't adverse to the honorable swordfight, and normally has a blade on her at all times. Her face is completely unreadable when she needs it to be--she is very careful to keep her expressions under control.

Limitations: While Saxon is fit, she is small, and as a woman, is often assumed to need protection. She lacks brute strength, and despite what she knows--and what she can teach herself--she lacks practical experience on the battlefield. It is hard for her to find work due to the fact she is simply not what most commanders are looking for. However, she always proves herself to be a valuable resource, even if she is green.

Weapons: A lightweight bastard sword dubbed "Firestarter."

Equipment: Always carries a quill and parchment, a compass, and a medical bag.

Other Skills: She has a head for numbers and enjoys riding on horseback. She's quick with languages and is familiar with several; her first tongue is similar to Gaelic, and seldom spoken by either Thura or Ragor, so she uses it to encrypt her notes.

Bio: She was raised in the mountains of a conquered province by her father, who was a noble warrior in his own right. She trained her mind and body and was taught the arts of both combat and strategy, as though she were his son. When she was of age, she accompanied her father on his campaigns, learning a variety of skills and familiarizing herself with the Thuran army. Saxon was never particularly close to her father, addressing him as far, sir and rarely receiving more than verbal praise or a hand on her shoulder. Even with her course upbringing, she acts nothing short of composed and professional.

Other: Is always addressed as "Saxon," and has a lilting accent that veils, rather than masks her words.

(WIP, reserving a tactician.)

This looks complete to me, but please notify me when you're ready.

 

[Moolock]

​

Name: Mel(issa) Da'Ran
Age: 27
Gender: Female
Class Skills: While a master of nothing, in her years Mel has become something of a jack of most trades, quick to adapt to and work with what she has given, though she does favor some areas. Her preferred areas include swords and some amount of magic. Not a woman of will-twisting nor a "softie tree-hugger" or a great summoner of fire storms and tidal waves, Mel instead specializes in mobility and small amounts of conjuration. From casting a spell on herself to walk up a wall to summoning a spectral hand to grab something for her from across the room, her magic is situational and almost entirely meant to benefit herself, the duct-tape of fighters.
Limitations: Versatility comes at a price- Nothing she does is perfect. Her spells against an experienced mage are on the level of children's tricks. Her skills with a blade are more refined but stylized to get her out of a fight, not charge across a battlefield with it. Mel can protect herself but she cannot extend that to others, making her a somewhat poor team player and a nightmare for any sort of directing authority. All this coupled with the struggle to retain a web of spells among multiple branches of weaponry make her a dangerously light sleeper and the woman can often be grouchy (or worse) from headaches. She is incredibly susceptible to mind-based magic.
Weapons: Two bastard swords, identical and weighted to be carried by a woman, the pair are both of fine metal and the grip is a simple leather cord wrap. There are no adornments on the blades but for a single "MDR" engraved into the pommel of each. The greatsword strapped to her back is instead two-handed and while can be used at times, is more of a keepsake than a weapon she has chosen to wield herself. Within the family, there are stories of the blade coming alive with some in-forged magic but she has yet to see any evidence of it and keeps the blade in the hopes that may happen... Around her back, the woman also carries a rapier and a pair of simple, well-weighted daggers. She can use her magic offensively of course but it is not much worth noting but for a few spells of fire or some entangling vine.
Equipment: Aside from the weapons mentioned previously, Mel keeps on her person a vial of poison (for various reasons), a ring of the Da'Ran family, her coin purse, and a simple black cloak. She is not one for camping or roughing in the wilds. Tucked under her shirt is a necklace with a glowing blue crystal pendant that acts as her spell focus for the arcane.
Other Skills: She makes a fantastic pot of coffee when there is the time for it and from her highborn upbringing (Her house is a lesser noble one but noble nonetheless) has learned something of a knack for languages.
Bio: Raised among four brothers at the hilltop greathouse of Da'Rolo, Mel's parents quickly gave up on the idea of her growing up to be a lady, or so she was allowed to believe. Born to Thalia and Walder Da'Rolo of the farming town Renlis, the girl quickly took to learning the blade (and other less glorious forms of fighting) like a duck to water. Reluctant to wear the skirt but easily the tomboy of the town, Mel found herself battling against her brothers and their friends like any other boy would, enjoying her time but unable to settle down in one craft. Early in her teen years, her mother suggested she take up a more ladylike skill, to which the girl already learning to ride a horse quite strongly refused, happy to take the courtyard practice over some "stuffy classroom in the northern tower". For a number of years, her attention shifted between weapons, in and out of fighting, and around the various areas of study. She caved under her mother's request when father joined the long-running argument and ended up in several stuffy classrooms, though never finished or honed her mind for a single course. She drifted among the maths and sciences, eventually settling on learning a couple languages and taking up the arcane as a hobby.

Coming into her late teen years, Mel discovered her parents planning a marriage, never before a topic of the house that would include Mel. She had always assumed her brothers would all carry on the family name and legacy and she could roam the world as she pleased, adventuring most likely. This flared up into a massive fight between Mel and her parents that left the marble of the great hall scorched from several spells Mel had flung out at the time. The banners tarnished, the floor blackened, Mel grabbed her family's sword off the wall, took her own blades, and fled.

From her running away to present day, Mel has roamed as a sellsword, throwing her magic and daggers wherever the person paying her told. More often than not, this has gotten her into trouble with other parties wishing not to be stabbed and her name is one known among several thieves guilds. She dropped the Da'Rolo name and took up Da'Ran two years ago and has traveled under the shortened version ever since.

Other:
Theme song:

Spoiler: Nobody Gets Out Alive

OOC Other: HAHA It's done! also WOOOO!! Glad to sign up for another rp of yours, Shog

 

[Moolock]

Alright, I'm done unless you've got any tweaks for it Shog

 

[Shog]

​

Name: Mel(issa) Da'Ran
Age: 27
Gender: Female
Class Skills: While a master of nothing, in her years Mel has become something of a jack of most trades, quick to adapt to and work with what she has given, though she does favor some areas. Her preferred areas include swords and some amount of magic. Not a woman of will-twisting nor a "softie tree-hugger" or a great summoner of fire storms and tidal waves, Mel instead specializes in mobility and small amounts of conjuration. From casting a spell on herself to walk up a wall to summoning a spectral hand to grab something for her from across the room, her magic is situational and almost entirely meant to benefit herself, the duct-tape of fighters.
Limitations: Versatility comes at a price- Nothing she does is perfect. Her spells against an experienced mage are on the level of children's tricks. Her skills with a blade are more refined but stylized to get her out of a fight, not charge across a battlefield with it. Mel can protect herself but she cannot extend that to others, making her a somewhat poor team player and a nightmare for any sort of directing authority. All this coupled with the struggle to retain a web of spells among multiple branches of weaponry make her a dangerously light sleeper and the woman can often be grouchy (or worse) from headaches. She is incredibly susceptible to mind-based magic.
Weapons: Two bastard swords, identical and weighted to be carried by a woman, the pair are both of fine metal and the grip is a simple leather cord wrap. There are no adornments on the blades but for a single "MDR" engraved into the pommel of each. The greatsword strapped to her back is instead two-handed and while can be used at times, is more of a keepsake than a weapon she has chosen to wield herself. Within the family, there are stories of the blade coming alive with some in-forged magic but she has yet to see any evidence of it and keeps the blade in the hopes that may happen... Around her back, the woman also carries a rapier and a pair of simple, well-weighted daggers. She can use her magic offensively of course but it is not much worth noting but for a few spells of fire or some entangling vine.
Equipment: Aside from the weapons mentioned previously, Mel keeps on her person a vial of poison (for various reasons), a ring of the Da'Ran family, her coin purse, and a simple black cloak. She is not one for camping or roughing in the wilds. Tucked under her shirt is a necklace with a glowing blue crystal pendant that acts as her spell focus for the arcane.
Other Skills: She makes a fantastic pot of coffee when there is the time for it and from her highborn upbringing (Her house is a lesser noble one but noble nonetheless) has learned something of a knack for languages.
Bio: Raised among four brothers at the hilltop greathouse of Da'Rolo, Mel's parents quickly gave up on the idea of her growing up to be a lady, or so she was allowed to believe. Born to Thalia and Walder Da'Rolo of the farming town Renlis, the girl quickly took to learning the blade (and other less glorious forms of fighting) like a duck to water. Reluctant to wear the skirt but easily the tomboy of the town, Mel found herself battling against her brothers and their friends like any other boy would, enjoying her time but unable to settle down in one craft. Early in her teen years, her mother suggested she take up a more ladylike skill, to which the girl already learning to ride a horse quite strongly refused, happy to take the courtyard practice over some "stuffy classroom in the northern tower". For a number of years, her attention shifted between weapons, in and out of fighting, and around the various areas of study. She caved under her mother's request when father joined the long-running argument and ended up in several stuffy classrooms, though never finished or honed her mind for a single course. She drifted among the maths and sciences, eventually settling on learning a couple languages and taking up the arcane as a hobby.

Coming into her late teen years, Mel discovered her parents planning a marriage, never before a topic of the house that would include Mel. She had always assumed her brothers would all carry on the family name and legacy and she could roam the world as she pleased, adventuring most likely. This flared up into a massive fight between Mel and her parents that left the marble of the great hall scorched from several spells Mel had flung out at the time. The banners tarnished, the floor blackened, Mel grabbed her family's sword off the wall, took her own blades, and fled.

From her running away to present day, Mel has roamed as a sellsword, throwing her magic and daggers wherever the person paying her told. More often than not, this has gotten her into trouble with other parties wishing not to be stabbed and her name is one known among several thieves guilds. She dropped the Da'Rolo name and took up Da'Ran two years ago and has traveled under the shortened version ever since.

Other:
Theme song:

Spoiler: Nobody Gets Out Alive

OOC Other: HAHA It's done! also WOOOO!! Glad to sign up for another rp of yours, Shog

Accepted. Glad to have you on board.

 

[Shog]

Blaire Wisteria Sizniche
There is still plenty of time for you to jump in.

marshmarrow OverconfidentMagi
When you finish your CS edits please notify me. Just like above there is room for you to join in on the fun.