Fantasy Saga of the Nineteen Islands Guidelines and Characters

[Baconhands]

In my experience, players that interact with others are the ones that will have the most fun. Lone wolf type characters are going to have a rough time, in my experience, and may find that they will get bored. Chances are, I will probably not accept these kinds of characters.
The RP will be fairly detailed - each post should be at least two paragraphs long. However, I am expecting post frequency to be fairly light; as I go into my third year of university, I know I will not be able to post every day, and so I do not intend to hold any of you to such a standard. Once or twice a week is fine.
I will request that you read the lore before you make a character - there will be parts of the character sheet that will hinge on you having read it. I have also found that those who engage with the world often are more invested, and tend to have more fun!

• Character outline
• Questions and Answers

• 
  Though I do not intend to make an outline for you to strictly follow, your character sheet must include the following information:
  Name:
  Age:
  Race/species:
  Appearance (description, image, or both):
  Country (for the Empire of Alba or the Commonwealth, please specify a nation within it):
  Lineage (if appropriate. If not, simply put 'none'):
  Spells (if appropriate. If not, ignore. A brief description of what your character's spells are):
  Skills (What is your character especially good at?):
  Equipment (weapons, armour, etc):
  Personality (Roughly two paragraphs):
  Background (Roughly three paragraphs):
  
• 
  A place for questions and my answers

 

[Flutterby]

Seren-Nur "Seren" Akash​

• Basic Information
• Spells and Skills
• Supplies
• Personality
• Background

• 
  Artist Credit: Alexey Popov​
  Nickname: Seren
  Age: 22
  Race/Species: Human
  Country: Formerly of the Fenn
  Lineage: Bakrit, the Aspect Dragon of Light
  Appearance:
  Seren doesn't strike a very imposing figure. She's easily called short, or at least below average, standing a little under 5'5". She's wiry, hiding some hidden strength but not much. Her frame is far more suited for the trees than the cities and she knows it. Her hair is deep, red-kissed brown, usually pinned up in some haphazard way to keep it from her face. She has her father's eyes- pale green, flecked with spots of blue, like the surface of a forest river. They're topped by brows that move of their own will, making it obvious she is thinking something even when it's not clear what. Her freckles, all across her nose and cheekbones, come from her mother. As does her nose, which is prominent and straight. This detracts a little from the attractiveness of her lips and eyes, but she doesn't mind that much. The copper-colored scales, pinkish in the right light, that mark her as lineaged appear on her left arm, only just above her wrist.
  These days, she dresses in a simple set of brown boots, brown trousers, a long-sleeved cream tunic, and a leather vest. She tends to cover herself with a hooded green cloak if she can.
  She speaks with a somewhat lilting accent, something between a Lancashire and a Welsh accent.
  
• Spells:
  Goleuo: The most basic form of her magic, it creates light from her hands. The easiest way is a sudden, bright flash, useful for stunning someone or something for about 6 seconds. It's possible for her to create a sustained light, but the longest she's been able to do this so far is only about a minute.
  Bwyta: This spell enables her to draw energy directly from natural light, reducing her need to sleep or rest greatly. She needs direct sunlight for it to be effective. Using it too much without actual sleep makes her jittery and anxious, and it doesn't do anything for being hungry or thirsty. She's heard rumors that it may also allow her to heal quickly, but so far, she can't figure out how that would be true.
  Anwel: A merchant in a town square told her of a light-lineaged person who was able to use their ability to make things invisible. To do so, she has to bend light around them. She's been working hardest on this one, but has only made a small coin invisible so far.
  Rhith: She read about this one in a book. It involves the same concept of bending light, but to create images that aren't real, mirages really. She hasn't been able to figure it out yet, at all, much to her frustration. She knows it would have applications to many things- like disguises or stealth- but she just doesn't know how to do it yet.
  
  Skills and Abilities:
  Archery: Seren is a skilled archer. She picked up the skill as a young child, and never put it down. From a stationary position, she is as dependable as anyone. She is exceptional at shooting from higher vantage points, and is working on increasing her range. Up to this point, the skill has been used almost entirely for hunting. She's not as good from horseback, though.
  Climbing: Seren spent every day of her childhood climbing trees. It is one of her true joys in life. Since leaving, she's been learning to apply the skill in a more urban setting. Scaling walls is not that different, as it turns out.
  Baking: Seren's mother taught her to bake hearty, rich things like breads, pies, and cakes.
  
• Equipment: Seren carries her bow and quiver of arrows, and a good sized hunting knife. The bow was made specifically for her, and the color of the wood nearly matches her hair. There is a small metal charm attached to it, a circle with three diagonal, parallel lines across it. In her pack, there are the usual traveling provisions (food, water skin, money, the like), a small skin of a healing ointment, and a small wooden whistle. Recently, she started carrying a small mirror, curious about how to use it alongside her magic, and a book about the lineaged that she recently bought.
  
  Extra: As part of the coming-of-age rites, she befriended a marten that she calls Arwen. Arwen is about a foot and a half long, and likes to curl up in the bottom of Seren's pack for travel. Arwen is a clever and affectionate, but has a bad habit of stealing food from others.
  
  Spoiler: Arwen

  
  
  
• 
  Seren is the oldest of the three sisters, and the "tomboy" of the bunch. She grew up in a tiny town, where everyone had a role in their collective survival. For a long time, the community and her family were the most important things for her. She lived and breathed and bled for those around her. That began to shift when she became aware that there was more beyond their small island. With a wider world, didn't that mean there was a wider community? More people to live for?
  Since leaving, this has been at least partially confirmed for her, and she sees herself as a citizen of the world. She makes a point to be honest and do what seems right, often going out of her way to be helpful or kind. She's not above paying a little more just to put a little extra in the seller's pocket if she thinks they need it. Assimilating into a new group, whether it be a new city or a new traveling party, might not be easy but she sees it as necessary and maybe even noble to do so.
  She wouldn't call herself a bleeding heart though; it's not that she thinks the world is all rainbows and everyone is lovely all the time. She's aware of the harsh realities. She knows that trusting everyone will get her into trouble, and then she would be useless. She knows people commit crimes, and believes in swift but fair and restorative justice. She sees the world as a myriad of gray area, and black and white are almost nonexistent.
  If she has a sense of humor, or a love of fun, she hasn't discovered it yet. At home, she worked and hunted for her family. Since leaving, she has had to spend every once of energy on providing for herself and finding out more about the lineaged. There isn't time for games or hobbies. The only true happiness she feels is when she learned something new, or has the time to climb a tree with Arwen.
  
• Seren's family lives in one of the larger permanent settlements of the Fenn, but that doesn't mean much. They're quiet, unassuming members of the community who do their part and raise their children, of which there are three. Her mother is a talented baker. Her father is a solid handyman and dependable worker. One would really never know that her family is lineaged.
  The town has seen other lineaged. It has long been home to a family of Olikah, the Aspect Dragon of Poison. The problem with the Akash family is that their lineage comes from the Commonwealth- there were no descendants of any other Aspect Dragons in their home until the Commonwealth came. No one in the family is willing to talk about how they got there. It is possible that they no longer know. But anti-Commonwealth sentiment is generations old in their community. Revealing themselves to be the "wrong kind" of lineaged would be disastrous for the family.
  
  Having a family secret was taxing. As a child, she lived in perpetual fear that she couldn't name. As a teenager, it evolved into something more like annoyance. Seren almost had a boyfriend, but realized that it would be too easy to slip up and let him see her scales. She heard small groups of her peers, the ones her parents would have called radicals and troublemakers, whispering about the benefits of being a part of the Commonwealth, of the potential for trade and technology, of a wider world full of people. She couldn't help but wonder how many people like her were out there.
  Other than the big family secret thing, Seren lead a fairly normal life. She learned her skills, tamed her familiar, and started looking for her place in their little world. But the more she looked, the more she became convinced that she wouldn't be able to find her place until she understood herself, even the parts she wasn't supposed to talk about. And if she wanted to learn about her lineage, she would have to do it alone.
  
  Seren was 19 when she left the Fenn. It wasn't a pleasant process. Her parents disagreed in the strongest of terms, but she decided to go anyway. Her mother cried. Her father told her not to come back.
  For almost a year, she was stuck in the Platinum Consulate, until a trading company took her on to help with hunting and cooking. That allowed her to get a look at the world beyond the Commonwealth. In an effort to get to Lumia, where she had heard there was libraries and such, she's fallen in with a group of Silver Born traders. There's no lineaged among them, but they helped her find a book about it on one of their stops. They're headed back to their own state, which will leave her with a decent bit of travel alone, but it was better than nothing.
  

 

[Baconhands]

Flutterby All good to me!

 

[Baconhands]

Kadri Laar

• The Basics
• Spells and Skills
• Equipment
• Personality
• Background

• 
  Name: Kadri Laar
  Age: 19
  Country:Volk
  Race/Species: Human
  Lineage: Arbuzs, the Aspect of Lightning
  Appearance: Standing at 5'7", Kadri is an athletic individual with a slim figure. She has tempestuous gray eyes that appear to shift between dark and stormy to that of a similar colour to an overcast sky. She has sharp, inquisitive features. Her hair is a raven black that falls half a foot past her shoulders that she normally lets hang loosely, though occasionally she puts it into a pony tail. On her right forearm is a cluster of ocean-blue scales which are buried into the skin, demonstrating she is a lineaged of Arbuzs
  
  Typically, Kadri wears a sky-grey, linen tunic. It has long sleeves and falls down to her wrists, covering her scales when she's walking and sitting down. The tunic is trimmed with a silver thread. In addition to her tunic, she wears black trousers and knee-high boots. A sea green cloak adorns her shoulders at almost all times. It has a hood attached to it. Around her neck is an amulet that has strange runes and the image of the head of a horse in front of two wings etched into it.
  
• 
  Skai Kadri summons lightning down from the heavens directly on her and simultaneously summons another bolt in a location she can see up to fifteen metres away. In the blink of an eye, she transports herself between these two locations.
  Lynned Kadri calls down a bolt of lightning on a small area she can see. This is a primarily offensive spell, and serves few other purposes than to strike an individual she considers dangerous. It is not as powerful as a typical lightning strike would be, but still deals a significant amount of damage nonetheless.
  Stama Kadri channels a bolt of lightning that stretches from ten metres up and down to the ground. Lightning lashes out from it in a two metre radius, intercepting missiles and weak spells. It is a spell that she can maintain as long as she is able to concentrate on it, though it drains her exponentially each second she maintains it.
  Atzaro Static builds up along her scales, traversing to her fingertips. When she flicks her wrist forward, lightning leaps from her hand, arcing through the air until it reaches an object. A second after contact, branches of lightning spread across the surface and lash out at the closest object or organic substance. Since learning this spell, Kadri has only ever been able to cast it successfully three times.
  
  Fishing Living in a coastal town, with parents who worked on fishing boats, Kadri took on fishing as a hobby, which developed into a skill that is far from amateur. She finds it relaxing, and often finds that it is a good way to get to know someone.
  Fighting experience Having competed in numerous tournaments in Volk since she was fifteen, Kadri has a decent idea of what to do in combat situations, and has developed a good sense for spacial awareness. However, this experience is limited by the fact that she is used to fighting one on ones.
  
• 
  Kadri does not wear any armour - she finds plate and chain difficult to cast through, and leather armour and gambesons have always made her feel uncomfortable. She has a small, well maintained dagger on her belt in case of emergencies, but she is not skilled in using it. A woven bag, containing a couple of books on the history of Euross and the Nineteen Islands as well as a leather pouch of coins, is oft slung over her shoulder.
  Around her neck is an amulet that appears to be made of metal but, if lifted, it feels as if it weighs basically nothing. Etched into it are ancient runes, and the image of the head of a horse in front of two angelic wings.
  
• 
  A humble woman, Kadri will be the first to talk down her abilities and downplay her role in any important or successful task. She doesn't like unnecessary attention and leadership, unless among a group of friends and trusted-acquaintances, is not within her repertoire. It is obvious whenever Kadri is out of her depth, despite her attempts to cover it up; she may become reclusive, or deliberately hide information that others may deem necessary knowledge.
  This is not to say she is shy; in fact, she is far from it. A competitive spirit dwells within her, as with all Volken people, and this drove her to take part in the tournaments hosted across the island nation. She did not compete to try and impress the Ever Watching, for she had no interest in being queen, but to better herself and others. To this extent, she could be described as gregarious.
  Kadri has never held a competitive grudge against anyone; while she's had a few rivals in the past, she rarely took a loss against them bitterly, and only did so when she knew she'd committed a major error. She has great respect for those who prove themselves in any aspect of society, and will often ask questions of those who have beaten her as to how she can improve.
  
• 
  Kadri was born an only child to two lineaged parents in the port town of Tallinn on the east coast of Volk. Home to a large fishing community, a small mine producing valuable Volkscrest, and a decent-sized market, Tallinn saw the settlement of a handful of families from the Commonwealth and the frequent arrival of traders from around the Nineteen Islands. Kadri was thus exposed to the various cultures of the Nineteen Islands, and took an interest in reading books from all around the world when a merchant from the Sapphire Isles gave her a short story from his homeland.
  
  At the age of seven, Kadri started learning to control her inherited magical abilities, and at the age of ten, her father took her to watch her first tournament in Kaunu, the largest city on the east coast of Volk. Enthralled by the battles that took place before her, the young girl resolved to work diligently to take part in the tournaments. Her love of these competitions brought her into contact with Hendrik and Sigrid, two other children who were as enthusiastic as she was about the tournaments, albeit for slightly different reasons. The trio formed a close a fierce bond, and, when they reached the age of fifteen, they traveled to as many tournaments as they could. Though it was a slow burn, Kadri managed to win her first tournament at the age of seventeen, albeit a small one in a remote town in the South of Volk.
  
  In 819 ADW, a few weeks before her nineteenth birthday, Kadri participated in one of four major tournaments on the island, a tournament in Kaunu. Though she took joint fifth place, she was approached by an individual named Merska, a First Born, who awarded her an amulet for her efforts.
  "An Artefact," Merska had assured her, "one to find the rest."
  Though hesitant at first, Kadri set out from Volk. She has been travelling the last year, trying to complete her task; only now has she asked for help.
  

 

[Goonfire]

(WIP)

Rollo Solveig​

• The Basics
• Spells and Skills
• Equipment
• Personality
• Background

• 
  Name: Rollo Solveig
  Age: 20
  Country: The Union, Commonwealth
  Race: Human
  Lineage: Zalvaris, Aspect Dragon of Earth
  Appearance:
  The towering Rollo stands at 6’6 and is built like a tank. He makes a point to shave frequently, because his thick facial hair grows rapidly, producing stubble at least every other day.
  
  Although he owns nicer clothes, he prefers to go shirtless, wearing a short, fur-trimmed cape, pants of a thicker cotton fabric, and soft leather accessories. For wrestling matches, however, he dons only a green loincloth.
  
• 
  Spells:
  
  • Flourish - A gentle suite of Rollo's magic, but the most difficult for him to control. Small quantities of magic energy vent from his hands and feet, causing flora in his immediate vicinity to grow. Some examples of include, but are not limited to, flowers springing up in his tracks or seeds burgeoning in his hands.
  • Grasping Vines - Thorned vines shoot from the earth. They can do many things, from ensnaring a person or object to blanketing the ground, creating a clever suite of ground hazards. If need be, Rollo can pluck a vine from the ground to use as a weapon.
  • Woodworking - A simple transmutation spell that allows Rollo to grow an acorn into a simple wooden item of his choosing. Usually, he will pick a club or similar bludgeon, but can also pick items such as a staff or crude spear, a wooden stake, or even basic tools.
  • Sustenance - In areas sparsely populated by flora and fauna alike, it's easier to just bring one's own food... or make it. By focusing his energies, Rollo can provide himself and others food by growing a berry bush from scratch. While it ultimately doesn't compare to a nice slab of meat, it beats starvation.
  • Camouflage - Sometimes, brute force is a one-way ticket to an untimely death. Rollo can instantly coat himself in dirt and leaves to blend with a natural environment.
  Skills and Abilities:
  
  • Grappling - Rollo's specialty is wrestling and unarmed strikes. He is notorious for his brute strength, second to none in his hometown.
  • Improvised weapons - A self-taught skill. Rollo has a habit of picking up the first object he can find and lobbing it at an assailant’s head.
  • Crafting - Each Solveig man learns a trade. In Rollo's case, he picked up basket-weaving and woodcarving. He is considered an intermediate-level tradesman, mostly making baskets for farmers and occasionally handles for axes, shovels, and hammers.
  • Navigation - An essential skill for anyone roaming the land. He can read a map and use a compass, or guess the time and direction by the sun’s position in the sky.
  • Climbing - Boy, can he climb. Of course, it’s difficult for him to fall, because he can create vines or roots to assist if there isn’t a suitable handhold or foothold.
• 
  Equipment:
  
  • Bags of seeds & acorns
  • Jute bag w/ changes of clothes
  • Book of matches
  • Wood cutting tools
• 
  Personality:
  Rollo is (in)famous for causing a scene. His larger-than-life persona sometimes makes him the center of attention, especially during sporting events. He rarely settles for second-best in tests of might, and this leads to high expectations from people around him and vainglorious acts on his part, such as announcing that he’s challenging someone. In many ways, he is like a dorky child, but 6’6 and a mass of muscle.
  
  Some think this pride would make Rollo a complete fool, but even he knows when to pick his battles. In his opinion, knowing when to back off is a better test of true strength than rushing into a physical fight. Still, expect zero subtlety in social and romantic instances; his straightforward approach is the proverbial double-edged sword.
  
  His magic is cause for concern to himself. Any excess power drains from him, causing foliage near his hands and feet to grow more quickly. He is self-conscious about his lack of control over it, often focusing on keeping it at bay. He wants people to think he has more control than he really does.
  
  It is worthwhile to keep a rational person with Rollo; he is superstitious and somewhat gullible. If he were to fall for a lie, it would be a major blow to his pride. While he isn't dense enough to overlook a flagrant bluff, he definitely isn't the sharpest tool in the shed. Oh, and he’s afraid of ghosts...
  
  Goals and motivations:
  Rollo has heard the rumors of an artifact surfacing. He intends to muscle his way to it, if need be, and to bury it again. While it would be beneficial as a deterrent, he thinks such an item would still cause unrest among the Commonwealth, the risks outweighing the perks.
  
• 
  Background:
  Rollo’s father was a sailor of brass lineage from Fenn, his mother a Unionist of bronze lineage. Their meeting was something of an accident; a storm sank the man’s ship, and he and his wolf companion found themselves on the shores of The Union. After a while, he didn’t want to return home; he married the woman who found him among the wreckage that fateful day, and she bore him three healthy sons.
  
  From a young age, Rollo and his two older brothers enjoyed rigorous outdoor activities. He received a basic education, involving reading, writing, arithmetic, and basket weaving. Upon reaching adolescence, his magic abilities started manifesting, with flowers and grasses sprouting in his tracks. His family thought this was odd, considering his father’s earth spells focused more on the actual ground and not what spawns from it. Regardless, Rollo found himself juggling work and spellcraft. He grew to be the a powerful young man, both physically and magically. By friends’ recommendations, he also learned to wrestle and thoroughly enjoyed it. He brought a new sort of honor to his family, not as a craftsman or a caster, but as an award-winning athlete. With one bronze and two gold medals from regional tournaments, he won the favor in many social circles.
  
  It was during a feast that Rollo overheard the rumors of the discovery of a fabled artifact. Having also been told stories of what happens to people who openly search for these relics, he didn’t admit he knew anything. However, he couldn’t simply let an artifact float around with potentially sinister parties, so he did set out on a quest using bits of information he gleaned from a letter he intercepted.
  

 

[MajesticCoal]

Ys'Vasslysx Z'Sylliquaa
'Black Tongue' 'Ys' ​

• The Basics
• Spells and Skills
• Equipment
• Personality
• Background

• 
  
  Age: 25
  
  Race/species: Lizardfolk/Blackscale
  Sex: Male
  
  Appearance (description, image, or both):
  

  

  
  Height: 7'10
  Weight: 415 lbs
  Eyes: Red (dim glow at night)
  Scales: Black
  Tail: 14 foot
  
  Country: Phoenix Kingdom (Original home unknown).
  
  Lineage: Tamsus, The Aspect of Darkness
  
  
• 
  
  Spells:
  Shadow Step - The ability to 'step' (enter transport) through one shadow and 'step' (exit transport) out of another shadow within one's line of sight (100 meters maximum). Must be a substantial shadow roughly the size of a medium creature.
  
  Control Darkness - You can affect existing shadows, both natural and magical, by causing them to deepen, lighten, or even move within 30 meters.
  
  Shadow Form - You call forth the power of shadow, enveloping yourself in a clinging, concealing shroud of darkness. This makes it easier for the creature to hide and move silently, as well as aiding in attempts at escaping from bonds and grapples. Standing within the radius of a daylight spell or in bright natural sunlight temporarily suppresses the concealment effect. Additionally, the spell allows one to pass through a solid object or barrier one single time before it is dispelled.
  
  Skills:
  Darkvision - The ability to see in the dark up to 60 meters as if it were daylight. Cannot see in magical darkness.
  
  Tribal Artisan - Ability to craft weapons from the bones of fallen creatures or otherwise useful tools, if a bit primitive. Only takes a few hours (6 - 8) to fashion a weapon comparable to a long sword if the creature was of the appropriate size category (medium or higher). Primitive weapons do not break unless subject to substantial force, however primitive tools break after several uses (3-5).
  
  Infiltration - Adept at silent movement, climbing, escaping, hiding, and investigation.
  
  Racial Bonuses - Blackscale Lizardfolk:
  
  Size is Large
  Increased strength and Constitution
  Camouflage and concealment are greater at night, but far less during the day regardless of environment.
  Possession of sharp fangs and claws make for excellent impromptu weapons. Tail can also be used as a weapon.
  Can breathe underwater. A clear membrane can be closed over the eyes to allow vision underwater.
  Severed fingers and toes regrow after 24 hours. Severed hands and feet regrow after three days. Severed Limbs regrow after 3 weeks
  Scales provide natural armor vs Slashing, piercing, and bludgeoning attacks
• 
  
  Two daggers (Blackened)
  Great Sword (Blackened)
  Customized fit Shadow Leather Armor (aids in hiding within shadows)
  Lockpick Set
  Water Skin
  Backpack
  Hygiene kit
  Travel Rations (2 weeks)
  
  
  
  
• 
  
  -
  
  Prickly - When it comes to strangers, Ys can be rather prickly, to say the least. Having been a slave for most of his young life, he has grown distrustful of all creatures, even his own kind, and it shows in his dealings with those who are foreign to him. Snappish remarks, biting words, and the general cold shoulder are to be expected when dealing with one such as Ys. However, once one gets to know him, they find that he is indeed just rather prickly in general, only less so toward those he considers companions. Never in his life has he had a friend, so it is currently unknown what that would be like in terms of his prickly personality.
  
  Driven - The mission always comes first for Ys, or it did when he was with a Shadowy organization the enlisted the young and trained them to be assassins, or captured in his case. Now there is but one single mission on his mind. Whatever goal he sets himself on becomes all there is in life, allowing nothing to stand in his way, whether it be man, Firstborn, or even Dragon God.
  
  Humor - Oddly enough, Ys does have a sense of humor, however it is as foreign as he is. Things that would not cause humor to most seem to be the funniest to him, such as morbid concepts, rude gestures, threats, bleak circumstances, and other things along those lines. Additionally, when he makes a joke, they seem to be offkey and occasionally threatening in sound. Many are confused by his humor, thinking him possibly mad or dull of the mind, and none of that bothers him in the least.
  
  Proud - Ys is a very proud Lizard, brokering no mistakes on his own part, harsh on himself and demanding perfection. He has never seen another Lizardfolk like himself in all of his travels and he is proud of that uniqueness, it defines him almost, and that pride fuels him. He is of the lineaged and he feels pride in that as well, although he feels deep hate and confusion in it too, and it has tempered his pride into something slightly twisted, though no less a beacon of his esteem.
  
  -
• 
  
  His earliest memories are of a face, large, scales black like his own and eyes of red. He does not know whom owns this face, although it haunts his thoughts and dreams now as an adult, and it is for this face that he searches. Around him is green, thick green, and darkness. Suddenly, the face is gone, vanished and without him, taking a piece of him with it. He is alone now, surround by green as the moonlight pours through a thick canopy in haunting strips of silver light, pooling on a floor that is just as green as the trees that surround him. A pool reflects that light brightly, it ripples, though not from something beneath the water. Hooves, a fire, suddenly humans, elves, and dwarves are all around him and they take him. 'Who was that face? Why did they leave him to this? Was he not good enough?' If he could sweat, it would be a cold sweat that would wake him from these nightmares that play again and again, this memory is always followed by the memory of his life, a life that tempered the steel that is Ys'Vasslysx Z'Sylliquaa. The name that was given to him by another slave. A cherished name. "My Vengeance and Wrath."
  
  The life of a slave is just as one would imagine it so for a young boy, but much worse if that young boy happens to be a lizard, a savage as they say. Yes, he was rare, but it was the rareness of an exotic pet than the rareness of an exotic person, to be admired and shown off or beaten when disobedient. Obedience was the key to survival in the Phoenix Kingdom. He was told that he was to pay a debt that was owed by his people, although he was never told what that debt was or whom his people were for that matter, at least nothing beyond the race and species spoken of with slurs tossed in. Day to day life was not so bad once you became used to it, fetch this, deliver that, a beating here or there if they caught you sneaking an extra bit of bread or taking an extra drink of the slave rationed water. The other slaves were not like a family however, often looking out for themselves and merely paying off a debt that they owed to the House Hestadrin. Life played out like this for years and they only called him Black Tongue, due to the black color of his scales and tongue, until he was given a name.
  
  Her name was Ashandarei, but he called her Ash, and she was a wonderful person. She arrived during his tenth year of life, his form not filling out like he was told it should at that age, as lizardfolk are supposed to have short lifespans. She was twice his age, one of the Dragonborn, with lovely red scales and wild auburn hair. She would watch out for him as if she was a mother over her young, one day even asking what to call him, and despising the name Black Tongue. She chose a new name for him one day, she said it had taken much time to come up with it, but it was born from the pain and hate in her heart at the way they treated him. She said that one day she would get vengeance for him and unleash her wrath. He would laugh at that and she would smile, the name she had given did mean what she had said, although he did not know it at the time. She mothered him until the age of thirteen and then she was taken from him. A young lord, now reaching the age of human adulthood, was to become a man on his eighteenth naming day. This Hestradrin savage wanted Ashandarei for himself, but he did not like being told no, especially from a slave. The children had grown like that, spoiled, unaccustomed to being told they could not have something as one of the larger shipping trade families in the Phoenix Kingdom. The young lord tried to take her by force right in front of him, she tried to fight him off, the guards came to his aid and he beat her savagely. Far too savagely. She died right before his very eyes. He had always been stronger than others, faster, and he struck out. The lord and the guards were corpses before he realized what had happened, shreds of flesh clung to his clawed hands, bits of meat in his teeth and blood on his tongue. They would come for him. He fled in the night and could not escape the wall around the compound before they caught him, surrounding him, threatening death on him. Fear drove him now, instinct drove him, and he wished as hard as he could to be on the other side of the wall. He fell into the street, a pool of darkness receding from the stone wall inward on itself, the guards shouting on the other side. Still stunned he ran, although he had never been outside of the compound and he new nothing of this world he was now in, he ran in the darkness and eventually he hid within the sewers.
  
  His new life was sifting through refuse for food, stealing it when he could, and hunting the denizens of the sewers when he could not find food the other ways. Hardship was tempering his body and by his fifteenth year, he had outgrown everything and was far too big to stay hidden forever. Rumor began of a beast lurking in the sewers, black as the night, evil as sin, with a kinship to the shadows. They spoke of Ys. That is when they found him, a guild created in shadows, a brotherhood of darkness that were tools or the aristocracy or any who could pay the fee. He was quite the prize to them, all lineaged of Tamsus were highly prized by them, calling themselves the Hand of Tamsus even. They took him in and sheltered him, but it was just a new form of slavery, one that required him to murder; although he was not against that in the least. All of these creatures had treated him badly or indifferent before, attacking him on sight, fleeing from him, enslaving him, beating him. They deserved it all. He drank in the training like a man dying of thirst in a desert, absorbed himself in the work as if he were running from himself, striking down whomever needed death for coin. The dreams began, the visions, and the questions upon his twentieth year of life. Something began to stir in him, something that would take the skills of his new life and put them to the test, because he had to find someone. A God. Or at least one that stood in for a God. A First Born. It drove him from the Hand of Tamsus, but the only way free is death, so he dealt death to be free, enough to give them pause when they deal with him. Once they are back to full strength, they will come for him, but for now he is free.
  
  It is his twenty fifth year of life and he has been many places, yet still he searches for the one that stands in for a God or the God Himself. Tamsus. He must find this God and have his questions answered about who his is, what he is, and where are the others like him. He has not decided on whether he would kill this God or not, but the answers will tell him...
  
  
  

 

[SilverFlight]

Name: Keenan Dunmar

Age: 22

Gender: Male

Lineage: none

Skills and abilities:
Swordsmanship - Keenan is excellent with a blade and shield, always placing at the tourneys held in Arenthor and Nordgard
Horsemanship - Keenan is a skilled rider and used to spent much of his youth perfecting saddle tricks from the back of a galloping horse. This has served him very well both in battle and in the tourneys.
Martial tactics & leadership - With a quick mind and a commanding voice, the mantle of leadership sits well on his shoulders. Keenan has experience and talent for planning martial strikes and creating defenses. Keenan has experience in fighting and knows exactly what to expect when charging on the front line into a fight.

Appearance: Keenan is 6'2" and clad in scale armour, with plates set upon his chest, shoulders and the back of his arms. The scales are sculpted to look like feathers and about his torso and waist there is a leather tunic, quilted and stained green. His hair is short and thick, mostly smoothed back but there is always some defiant pieces sticking straight up or else flopping over one eye. He has a fine, rounded chin, a thick brow and solemn grey eyes that seem to look straight into you.

Weapons:
Keenan carries a sword and shield enchanted to repel magical attacks. These items were crafted by the very best smiths in Arenthor, tempered steel with intricate feather designs at the base of the blade and across the three point heater shield. A gold gryphon rampant is depicted at the shield's center.

Personality:
An old friend once said to Keenan that chivalry was a myth; a fanciful lie told to the lower-born to make them love those who ruled over them. From the moment he heard this he was intent on proving them wrong. Keenan strives for moral heights that most others wouldn't try to achieve, though time and reality has tempered lofty ideology into personal strictness and external tolerance. Keenan is a relaxed and nonchalant character most often and tries his best to teach by example, understanding that an air of prideful self-righteousness rarely accomplishes more than making one look like an ass. Beneath the warm and placative nature however lies a guilt-ridden melancholy stemmed from dark moments of his past. Keenan carries a deep-rooted self-loathing for one particular failure and this has forced him to seek out a path to redemption. Keenan's confidence in his judgement has taken a mighty blow, and though he is an immaculate commander when he does lead, he no longer believes himself worthy of taking charge. Mostly however Keenan tires to be cheerful and has a light sense of humour most people find pleasant. He is an easy person to trust and has a tendency to be protective over those he sees as vulnerable.

Background:
Born the seventh child to a prestigious family in Arenthor, Keenan could not hope to inherit anything of large value. The fate of strong men with no inheritance was often to seek honour and victory in the military and this is precisely what Keenan decided to do. He was squired to one of the king's best, in an elite force called "The Gryphons", there he was trained for years under the careful tutelage of the twelve fighters it was comprised of. Over time Keenan move up through the ranks, proving himself valiant, kind and compassionate. He quickly earned the love of the other squires and when they became knights in their own right it was clear Keenan would be their leader, taking his mentor's place as head of the King's Gryphons. For Keenan there was no greater honour and he bore the title with pride. This honour however only lasted but one short year.
A noble, dark in his ambitions and corrupt to the heart needled his way into the king's good graces. This man wore a mask so perfect there was no one the wiser when he requested the Gryphons be put into his service for one month, to help deal with a masterless bandit gang raiding the border villages on his lands.The knights' reputation had grown since Keenan had become its commander and they were known for their ability to accomplish near impossible tasks with only twelve fighters.
Keenan was commanded to take his force and attack a convoy in the dead of night while the bandits slept unawares. The plan had been to douse the fires and best the villains quickly, recovering the food stores and valuables taken from the noble's serfs, but when Keenan ordered the attack, and lead his knights into battle, he was astonished to find that the first bandit he took hold of was nothing more than a frightened child. They had been tricked, the convoy was not peopled by brigands, but by the house of a lesser noble from Silverun, that had stood in the way of a lucrative business venture desired by the corrupt noble. They had killed ten people by the time Keenan called off the attack. Furious and ashamed Keenan went straight to the king, only to find that word of the deed had gotten to him first, from the mouth of the very noble that had sent them to slaughter innocents.
He had been completely out-maneuvered: There was planted evidence of bribery, a letter forged in Keenan's own hand incriminating him for knowingly slaughtering the family. The gryphons were disbanded in disgrace and Keenan banished from his own home, his name struck from the king's service...and his father's house.
Now, Keenan seeks redemption, a way to prove to himself and to others that he is not what his mistake has made him.

Extra:
Keenan raised and trained a war dog in the last 2 years he with the Gryphons. Bluebell was smaller than most of the dogs and when they were reclaimed by the king's forces, they had decided to destroy her. As Keenan's last disreputable act, he broke into the kennels on the day he was banished and stole the dog away. Blue is Keenan's pride and joy and a very intelligent animal, learning incredibly specific commands. She is also fearless, an excellent judge of character and 120lbs of the biggest sweetheart anyone could ever know.

Spoiler: Bluebell

 

[Athanas]

Name: Destrian Targon

Age: 21

Gender: Male

Appearance: Destrian stands at a height of 6"1, a height considered average amongst the general populace. His build is lean and athletic, result of the time he spent running from the Law. His eyes are dark, and carry with them the hard stare of a man that has been through a lot in his life. He has Brown hair, kept short, so as to not obstruct his view during combat. He wears a regular shirt and a comfortable pair of pants, with a heavy black overcoat stashed in his backpack for when it gets cold. His body bears several scars, remnants of past battles. His lineage scales lie on his chest, but they oddly seem twisted and malformed, crudely fused into his flesh.

Lineage: Awramaar, The aspect of Arcana.

Spells: Destrian's magic matches his personality: Chaotic, Fierce, and Potentially dangerous even to his closest friends. As he is untrained in it, he cannot really effectively manage either his energy or his overload abilities(to be explained), Which has caused a lot of Issues in the past.

Notable spells:

-Conjure: Destrian stands still and begins charging up. While relatively useless on it's own, Conjure can empower Destrian's other spells. Conjure can also be used to heal Destrian's wounds, although this process is rather slow, so it is best used out of combat.

Overload: While not so much a spell on it's own as an ability he can use when casting other spells, this allows him to empower the spell, or cast it with minimal loss of magical energy. The catch, unfortunately, is that casting in this manner greatly increases the heat generated.

-Bolt: Pretty self explanatory- Destrian can shoot a bolt of purple energy at an opponent

-Power from Pain: Destrian can heal Allies, even when they are Grievously Inured . However, to do so, two things must happen: One, he must have contact with them, and two Destrian must damage himself. The More Damage Destrian deals to himself, the more wounds of the ally will be healed.
Destrian can also utilise power from pain to either empower his own spells, strength, or stamina, or an ally's

Improved Melee: Destrian can Empower his own speed and Strength, Allowing him to effectively engage in melee with Opponents. By wasting additional energy(or additional overcharge), he can summon some weapons out of energy. His favorite is a heavy Battleaxe, as, since he hasn't been properly trained, it's one of the few weapons that doesn't require real skill to utilize. When this is active, Destrian's arms burn with a purple glow

Hover: Destrian can Levitate 4 metres above the ground for a few seconds, and by wasting additional energy, is able to make an additional jump from there

Mana Burst: A short range, but high power, blast of purple energy. While slow to cast, it can be quite devastating.

Due to the very nature of his Lineage and personality, his magic is in a process of constantly evolving. Therefore, more spells will be made available with time and experience

Personality: Energetic and Brash, Destrian always tries to be as helpful as he possibly can to his allies. He values himself very little, and therefore will put their safety above his own. While his troubled psyche prevents people from becoming his friends easily, as most regard him with a mixture of fear, pity, or disgust, once he has actually established a bond with someone, he truly brings out his best self.Sadly, his anger still haunts him: And when in severe stress, he is more than likely to respond with extreme violence,even against allies(Although, very rarely against friends). Despite what it may seem, he is not the frenzied monster that he appears to be sometimes, and appreciates it tremendously when people don't treat him like one.

Background: Destrian grew up in a very Prominent family, in the Kingdom of Fire. He was the third son, and, as a result, held very little claims over his family's land. However, life was good. His parents , while cold and distant, cared for their children, and Destrian received a proper education and Upbringing. That was, of course, until a rival family revealed to the populace that they were Lineage of Awramaar. The memory of The peasants storming his home and slaughtering his family and siblings in front of him haunts his memories to this very day.

Destrian fled the slaughter of his family, but had nowhere to go. His world shattered, he lost control of his powers for the first time in his life, Decimating a large part of his hometown. He then fled the Kingdom and sought refuge in the Island of Volk. While he tried to find work, Nobody trusted this outlander enough to grant him a home and a decent opportunity. None, but a group of Bandits, who saw the Broken man as a golden opportunity to enlarge their ranks. After all, Lineaged had powerful magic and immense potential And so, Destrian spent the next few years as a Bandit, preying on the Innocent. At that time he did not feel any guilt over his actions: It seemed to him that all the people were monsters, who took away his sanctuary and refused to give him another. He soon enough became the leader of the gang, and they were a force to be reckoned with, raiding and plundering all across Volk. He met several different men during this time, each one with their own story. And each one affected the young man in subtle or overt ways.

But the road does not lend itself to mercy and leniency. Destrian's anger manifested in the most horrible of ways, provoked further by several of his gang who had began to understand how the man's magic worked. He began indulging in increasingly violent and depraved acts, and his grip on his own men slipped. Guilt began to plague him, but at the same time there was an undeniable kinship he had developed with these men. There was something...liberating in what he was doing.

But as it seemed eventually the guilt won out. After a particularly violent raid a woman was dragged before Destrian. She was battered, bloody and distraught. But rather than beg for her life, she blamed him and called him monstrous. He had taken everything from her, after all. Her husband, home, children, friends. All destroyed by the Damned. And staring into her tear-filled eyes, Destrian felt like he was staring at a mirror. He had done to her exactly the same thing they had done to him. He had become a monster worse than they could ever have been. Unable to cope, he fled from the camp shortly afterwards, retreating onto an isolated part of Volk. But the memories never left. The thoughts of what he'd done. The divide within himself. The things he'd agreed with, the things he had been told. In the isolation, they tore him apart, slowly but surely. He could feel his sanity slipping by the day

Thus, when the note reached him, he immediately began packing. This was his chance, he thought. This was his chance to actually redeem himself for his crimes. He left his home soon after, filled with hope for the first time in his life. However, his anger still looms over him, like a dark cloud: Ready to unleash the storm at any moment.

 

[Jenzo]

Gramahl The Iron Heart​

• General
• Spells and Skills
• Equipment
• Personality
• Background

• 
  
  
  
  
  
  Name: Gramahl Shatterheart
  Age: 278
  Country: The Commonwealth; Bretton
  Race: Dwarf
  Sex: Male
  Lineage: Nixhem; Aspect of Metal
  Appearance: Gramahl is rather large for a dwarf when compared to the rest of his kin; standing roughly 4'10". Like most dwarven men he has a very broad and compact appearance. However, despite his age he is still physical fit, having a Herculean appearance. His arms are well defined, muscular in appearance, showing the power of an aging man who had dedicated his life to physical labor with his hands. Gramahl has a very stern and worn masculine features that reside behind his large bush eyebrows; coupled with a strong jaw line that is covered by his aged thick facial hair that rolls down to the center of his sternum. The long blond mane of hair he once sported has now faded to white; leaving only a few strands of gold to shine through the sea of white when he fixes his hair into a ponytail. Wrapped around the outside of his forearms almost like gauntlets in a diamond style pattern are bronze colored scales, that once were a brilliant color, now have faded with age. Gramahl can normally be found wearing simple attire clothing, never trying to stand out much from the rest of the crowd.
  
  
• 
  SPELLS
  Metal Skin - The user is capable of hardening their skin, covering their entire body in iron scales that provide increased resilience to most kinds of attacks. However, the trade off is the user is somewhat slower than normal, with stiffen movements.
  
  Metal Shaping- The user can cause metal to bend and warp, permanently destroying its straightness, form, and overall strength. The user must touch a metal object or be no more than five feet away from it to shape it
  
  Shrapnel Burst - When making direct or indirect contact with a metal object, the user can cause the metal to explode outward away from him sending jagged pieces of metal flying. This spell can be used on basic materials that hold no special properties. Weapons and items that contain strong magical properties will not be affected by this spell.
  
  SKILLS
  Blacksmithing -
  
  Combat Training - Serving in the Bretton military for a time. Gramahl has been train in martial combat with various types of weapons. However, he is most proficient with hand axes and hammers.
  
  Sailing -
  
  
  
• 
  two dwavern hand axes
  light hammer
  
  
• 
  Gramahl has a very stern and stoic appearance, giving others the first impression that he would be a rather difficult dwarf to get to know. However, this is not the case when if comes to who he actually is. Gramahl is very strong, hardy and dependable dwarf who often displays very polite mannerisms to others. Like many other dwarves he values their traditions and looks for inspiration from ancestral heroes for guidance. Despite his friendly demeanor to others he still cast shadows of suspicion to any new person he comes across, never letting them out of his sight once they are in range. Once someone has earned his trust and friendship, they automatically become valued friends to the old dwarf, who would go to any length to protect if they ever find themselves in danger.
  
  Like many other dwarves, Gramahl can be very stubborn at time when he has his mind made up. When this happens it might take a lot of convincing from the other party to sway his opinion in there direction. However, despite his stubborn behavior it's mostly offset by his bravery and tenacity. It's because of these qualities he performs all his task with care and a stubborn resolve; and because of his age he possess a wisdom beyond that of many of other races.
  
  
• 
  Gramahl was born in the Confederation of Twelve, in the state of Bretton, nearly two and half centuries ago. He is the second eldest son within his family out of five children. His family is part of the small Clan of Shatterhearts located in the boards of Bretton. Like many other dwarven clans, his own has installed a strong sense of martial traditions, craftmanship, and justice. It’s because of these strong traditions he has decided to follow the footsteps of his clan predecessors and join the Bretton army and Smithing guild.
  
  In Gramahl 53rd year, he joined the ranks of the Bretton army like those before him. His size and linage as an Aspect of Metal made him a formidable recruit for the military. Despite the culture shock he received from entering the service, he quickly adjusted to his new lifestyle and slowly rose through the rank. In his 134th year, Gramahl received attained the rank of Ironguard, a rank reserved for veteran warriors who have proven their skills in battle and whose loyalty is beyond question. During this year, he met a dwarven woman named Myrria. The two met by chance during the “Deep Ale Fest”, a night of drinking ale at the taverns by the port and the two knew they were made for one another. His 136th year, the two were betrothed two one another and their rings joined together to be a symbol of union.
  
  During his 86th year in service, his party was patrolling the northern boarders of Bretton where they encountered a roaming band of barbarians. The two engaged in combat which left both sides with many wounded and casualties. Gramahl was during the battle which resulted him to leave the ranks of the military to recover. Though he was offered a chance to rejoin the ranks in the army once he recovered, he declined to pursue a different life choice. When it was Gramahl 140th year, he joined the Smithing guild belonging to the Shatterhearts. Though the guild itself was not very large as the others and held very little power in the political say who is head of state. They were still a very respected guild in the eyes of their peers. It’s during this time that Gramahl began to hone his skills as a blacksmith as he worked countless hours in the forge. During his 144th year, he was very pleasantly surprise to have given life to his first child, which they named Avna, after his wife grandmother. This sudden change in pace in his life was a very welcomed one as they continued on for quite sometime has a happy family home.
  
  Saddly those times came to an end during his 216th year. Myrria had become ill, which resulted in her early passing. The sudden lose of his beloved place Gramahl in a state of depression as he felt his whole world collapse within a single stroke of a hammer. With his only daughter considered a woman and moved out on her own. He found himself alone for the first time in nearly 72 years. Struggling to get past the lost of his beloved wife, he retired from the guild forgery around his 218th year to find ways to coupe with his lost. It was during this time that Gramahl turned towards the sea, purchasing a small vessel to travel the seas. His first year out on sea was traitorous as he went in completely blinded by the dangers of the open waters and the storms they brought. But he eventual found his sea legs and began to place the woes of his past behind him. His 234th year he returned back to the guild of Shatterheart to continue his work, except this time, he would take his skills to the sea. He now travels from port to port transporting goods on behalf of his clan and proceeded to take on oddity of jobs that range from ferrymen, to arm guard, and even blacksmithing when he wasn’t working for the guild.
  
  

I still need to work on a few parts, but its roughly the direction i'm going with this character. I should finish this all by the end of the week.