Fantasy The Beginning of a New - CS

[CaptainMcNoob]

Throw down le Character's here. Rules are at the bottom so its easy to quickly reference them. A like means your character is accepted and good to go.

Sin/Virtue CS
Name
Sin/Virtue
Age
[1,027 for any Sins or Virtues]
Gender
(If they have one they prefer)
Sexuality
(Optional)
Nation
Tattoo and Location
Personality
History
Family
Passive Skill/Ability
(Related to Sin/Virtue)
Active Skill/Ability
Preferred Appearance
Actual Appearance
[True Form]

Non-Fourteen CS
Name
Age
Race
Gender
Sexual Orientation
Appearance
Birthplace
Occupation
Personality
Religious Beliefs
Skills
Abilities
Preferred Equipment
Family
History


Main Roles
Virtues
Humility [Taken by Probably George ]
Kindness [Open]
Patience [Open]
Diligence [Reserved by Synder ]
Charity [Reserved by Ryoko Lee ]
Chasity [Reserved]
Temperance [Reserved by Mqueserasera ]

Sins
Pride [Taken by Ryoko Lee ]
Envy [Reserved by Rexcaliburr ]
Wrath [Taken by Midrick ]
Sloth [Taken by Me]
Greed [Open, talk to us in OOC first]
Lust [Taken by KhalZhavvorsa ]
Gluttony [Reserved by August August]​

Rules

1. Whatever xEmobunnehx or I say goes.
2. Don't be 'That Guy'. Don't abuse teleportation by jumping around constantly while giving a monologue, don't be that super spy that magically knows everything... Don't be That Guy.
3. Please always feel free to reach out to Bunneh, your fellow RPers or myself if you have an RP ideas you want to do or relations you want to develop.
4. You are free to take more then one member of the Fourteen, but we ask that you take one of the opposite side if you intend to have more then one. [So a sin and a virtue, not two sins].
5. Try not to 'powergame'. We are here to RP and have fun. We don't want to have to come down on anyone. Not why we come to this site.
6. Only a small portion of your nation may have the ability of flight [This means a nation of angels is a no-go].
7. IC is IC. If a character doesn't like another, try to remember its just fictional characters.
8. We require decent sized post. A paragraph minimum. Remember the more you write, the more you give the person writing with you things to work with for their own responses.
9. If you don't know, ask. We don't bite [Well, Bunneh does].
10. Have fun in the OOC and RP.

 

[CaptainMcNoob]

Name
Godric Wilhelm

Alias/Titles
The Dreamer
The Sleeping God
Slumbering Giant
Lord Protector
'He-Who-Sits-On-Noble-Arse'
Last Of The Sins​

Sin/Virtue
Sloth [Sin]

Actual Age
1,000....ish

Physical Age
1,000..... ish

Gender
Male

Sexuality
Heterosexual

Nation
Grand Republic of Astagorn

Personality
Lazy | Witty | Steady | Childish | Warm

As sloth, Godric is the epitome of laziness. If the option is to do or not to do, he will always pick 'not do do'. Nothing sounds better to Godric then to lay down and then proceed to do nothing for the rest of eternity. Very few times in his life has he found something worth getting up for, and each time it is often too late and he is left with that regret, but he simply cannot do it. It isn't in his character to be proactive even if, sometimes, he wishes he was. It is something he greatly envies about Diligence. So great is his laziness that even after the death of his son, when he wanted nothing more then to.. do.. anything, he was still carried to the battlefield upon his throne. However, it is possible to get him to do things, if he is pestered enough, disturbed enough, and the act they want him to preform is easier then being constantly woken and pestered, he will, begrudgingly, do it.

Despite his laziness, Godric is a great conversationalist. It is enjoyable and requires very little effort on his behalf, so its the best of both worlds. Godric has an exceptionally sharp wit able to call forth quips and barbed words at the snap of a finger, and more then that, he is a huge fan of incredibly bad puns finding them more enjoyable then he ought which has led his children to refer to his jokes as 'Dad Jokes'. His humors are almost always good for he is a very emotionally steady being. He doesn't panic, he doesn't get angry or sad because that requires a lot of work and effort... something he is not a fan of. When something bites at him, makes him get close to those emotions, he tends to shrug and forget them as it is easier... always easier. Very few times in his life has the emotions overcame this shell of his and each time was as worse then the last and each time he never wanted to feel it again.

Despite his standing as Sloth, one of the Fourteen, he is quite childish. If someone attempts to make him do something, he will childishly refuse and whine. If they, eventually, pester him into doing it, Sloth will grumble like an upset teenager complete with a pouting bottom lip and stomping on the ground. Well, at least he was childish, he hasn't shown this nature of his since the death of Corvis and his entrance into the war, but it is still there, somewhere. Also something he has not shown since he joined the war is the natural warmth he had. Sloth had a certain... affection about him, he made people feel welcomed, that despite his status, they could come to him, sit next to him, speak of their problems and be accepted. While he may not have been the most prestigious, well, he was the least prestigious of the 14, he was kind and, in the opinions of a few, that was more important.

Tattoo and Location

Tattoo is located on his right shoulder.

History
"Our Lord is not one of fiery temperament like Mighty Wrath, he is not taken to flights of passion like Lady Lust, he does not claim Power, Perfection or Wealth. Our Lord is a simple being, a kind and soft being, the Dreamer who watches over his people even if he does not always move to shield them... But beware, oh foes of Astagorn, for should the day come when our Lord need walk... the world shall tremble in his wake." - Tales of the Slumbering Giant Vol. 3

Dawn of the New Era
Godric was born to a blacksmith in a small village on the edge of Ter'noc, a kingdom that no longer exist, its lands now owned by Astagorn. His birth was on the day the world forever changed, for on his birth, thirteen other babies were born around the world. The Virtues and Sins. Mystics around the world were hit by numerous omens, but it didn't matter in this village. There was... much confusion over why the baby had such an... odd birth mark, but it merely meant that such a child was, surely, marked by the gods for greatness. They were both right and wrong.

Godric was more then human, this was made apparent to all around him as his rapid growth, his incredible strength and inhuman skills were obvious to all... but so were his faults. Godric was lazy. Incredibly so. He simply did not want to do anything and had to be forced or compelled into doing even the smallest actions and would always take the simplest means he could to complete whatever task was forced upon him. This created resentment among the villagers for how... how could someone be born with so much gifts yet not want to use them? It was an insult, a festering reminder that someone so unworthy was so blessed. But what could they do? They could not challenge Godric was something more then man.. but this hatred festered until they lashed out. Not at Godric, whom they could not touch, but his father and mother who were all too mortal. Godric returned from the trip his parents had forced him to go on only to find an abandoned village and the burned remains of his family's shop. Godric wept in front of the ashes and lay there, in the remains of his home, for a long time, lost to the world.

The Sleeping God and the Baker's Daughter
Godric slept for years, he is unsure how long he slept, in truth, but he was eventually woken... by a young woman with a large smile. If he closes his eyes, he can still see her, the wild red hair dancing in the wind, her green eyes filled with mirth and the freckles dancing across her pale skin. His Samara. She had found him by accident as she tripped on an ancient stone and knocked the dirt from his body, one can only imagine the surprise on her face when she found a young man buried yet still alive.

She brought the man, who was very reluctant, back to her village and to her home. In his sleep, the world had changed. The Virtues and Sins were legendary, god-like figures who were carving their names into history and spreading their influence and power through their nations. Godric? He was just some haggard man pulled out of the dirt by warm, clumsy daughter of a baker. When his.. talents began to show, and Samara saw the tattoo upon his body while he bathed [and entirely accidental encounter], she cried for it meant he was one of them. The missing Sloth. She had come to love Godric, loved taking care of him, his wit and his childish antics, he had become a part of her life she didn't want to lose, but of course she would, this was one of them, one of the great beings who now walked Xiola. But Godric would not leave her. Not just because he had no intention of running around the land unifying anything or slaying any sort of monster, because that was way too much work, but because he loved Samara. She was a warmth and light in his life he had never knew he needed and now could not fathom living without.

He married her and the village of Stromhaven was able to call the Lord of Sloth their guardian and protector. It was the happiest time of his life and the proudest moment of his life was soon to follow when he held his twins, Asha and Corvis, in his arms for the first time. This was home and he had no intentions of ever leaving.

Rise of the Republic
When his children came of age, they wanted adventure and excitement, quite unlike their father in that regard. Like him, they had stopped aging once reaching their majority and had incredible skills and strength. They were beyond any normal being could hope to be, although not a match for their father or any of the Sins and Virtues that had come to see their father [although very few found their father impressive or worth their time of day once his character became known]. They left Godric and Samara to see the world..

Godric and Samara stayed in Stromhaven but it was bittersweet. The years had passed in an eyeblink and while Godric was the same as he was when she dug him up, Samara was aging. With every passing day, a piece of Godric withered and died for the love of his life was fading in front of him and for all his power he could do nothing to stop it nor could he join her in her journey. Life.. life was cruel, and it was a fact Godric was learning all to well. It was so cruel that he wondered why he bothered...

While he went through his crisis, his children adventured earning fame and glory in the name of a man who had no interest in either. The lands were changing, the other Demi-Gods were amassing great personal power and the old kings realized their time was at an end. In their own lands, the various merchants had risen to a level of power that was unmatched in the rest of the realms, and together with Corvis and Asha, overthrew the various petty kingdoms and, together, they created a new nation. Not based under the rule of any one Virtue or Sin, no, it was a nation run by the common people, where ability meant more then blood.... Of course, such a nation would surely be destroyed by a Sin or a Virtue, so, the new republic, called Astragorn dubbed Godric 'The Sleeping God' as their Lord Protector. A meaningless title that inferred should war come to their borders and desperation set in, Godric would rise to their defense. Of course, most people knew this was nothing more then a symbolic gesture... but it worked. Through political and diplomatic maneuverings, Astragorn always managed to have 'just' enough allies to make people think twice about invading. Of course, invasions happened, and the people would turn to other kingdoms, other virtues and sins, to aid them, and through this, Astragorn reached a certain.. balance and was able to climb to be a great power equal to any of the other great nations. One of the few national holidays Astragorn has is held on the second full moon of Winter when Samara Wilhelm, often called the 'Mother of the Republic' passed away. The bakers of Astragorn bake spiced bread that is paid for by the Republic and given out for free, the smell of baked cinnamon filling the villages, towns and cities of Astragorn and, on this day, Godric is never anywhere to be found.

Fall of Lord Corvis
The Great War has had many names some called it the 'War in Heaven' or the 'War of the Immortals', others simply called it the 'Great War' whatever people call it, the war was truly devastating... and still is as only recently has the blades been sheathed as peace talks begin for the first time in living memory. The war... was brutal, yet Godric held no interest in it. In fact, Godric is the only Demi-God to have never been approached by any Virtue or Sin looking for aid of any kind for they all knew his answer, 'It is not my problem'. For this, he was often mocked by the people of other realms, even other demi-gods, often called the 'Last of the Sins'. Of course, this does not refer to age, all of them are the same age, born on the same day and at the same time, no, this refers to his strength. The Sloth of Astragorn must be a coward, a weakling, or both to stand by as the world burned. The two Virtues, Kindness and Charity, who also stayed out of the war were different. They did not fight in the manner of others, but still they fought to make the world a better place and take care of those who could not take care of themselves and sought to get away from the combat. Godric? He did nothing as people died, as cities burned and gods bled. He merely sat upon his arse in his halls and watched it all happen.

More then anyone, this bothered his son, Corvis. Corvis was a proud warrior, he had help build the Republic, he had helped bring his people to their dominance. Along with his sister, Corvis was the closest thing Astragorn had to real Lord Protectors. He wanted to fight, to prove to the world the power of Astragorn and that of the Wilhelm family. But the High Council of Astragorn shared a similar view as their Lord Protector, Godric, although for different reasons. They profited from trading with both sides and believed that it was not their war. Why should their sons and daughters die for a conflict that was not their own? Bleed on foreign soil for the ego and vanity of Wrath and Pride? But the majority of the public supported Pride, and so, the High Council allowed for volunteer regiments temporary leave and permission to join Pride's forces in their war against Wrath and Lust. Corvis not only joined this effort, but was the leader of the Astragorn Volunteers. Corvis was determined to show the world the true mettle of the Astragorns....

Fighting at Pride's side, whom Corvis soon grew to idolize, they earned great victories.. suffered horrible defeats, but in this, Corvis found his purpose. Alongside Pride, he would help fix the broken and shattered world, no matter the cost. When he returned to share his conviction with his father and sister, he was baffled. His sister was quick to join him, as they were always of one mind, but his father.. his father merely shook his head and, once more, said 'It is not my fight'.

Corvis exploded, how could it not be his fight? As people died and suffered, how could it not be his fight? He was a God, one of the Sins, his support would be enough to tilt the balance, to bring the war to end. He, in his hands, held the power to bring the world back from the chaos of war and yet he did nothing with it. Godric sickened him, his father, a man he admired and loved.. sickened him to his core. All that power... and no spine to use it. Corvis shouted at him all the things people used to snidely whisper behind his back, how he was the Last of the Sins, a coward and that he was a Wilhelm no longer as he stormed from the halls, dashing any who got in his way. Asha said nothing, she looked between her father, sitting in his throne staring out the window and his brother's retreating back, and followed her brother.

Corvis, raw with emotion, clashed with Wrath and his forces at the Durn Plains. The battle was intense and bloody, one of the bloodiest of the wars, but such violence was common against the forces of Wrath. At the center of the conflict, Corvis saw Wrath. The being who had helped start the war. Corvis challenged him, he would end this war by defeating Wrath and with his forces leaderless, they could rout them and finally make headway in the war. He would show the world that he was better then his father, show everyone that Corvis Wilhelm was a better Lord Protector then his father ever was or ever deserved to be... He was brave and strong... but he was no god. Corvis was struck down by Wrath as easily as man might swat an insect.

Silence followed as the Astragorn volunteers retreated. Wrath sent back Corvis body, untouched and undefiled, a sign of respect or a gesture of how unimportant he found the boy, no one could say. News reached Astragorn but Godric dismissed them. His son was his son, he was brave, noble, strong, he would not have fallen on some battlefield, not against a fellow sin. He pushed the thought from his mind... until Corvis returned.

A large, gilded coffin was carried by the honor guard, a gift from Pride, his daughter at the head. When Godric saw the tears running down her cheeks as they marched through the silent crowd to his halls, Godric stood. Slowly, as if lost in a daze, Godric approached the coffin and flung it open, the lid shattering the stone ceiling with the force, and there he was. His son, his baby boy, Wrath had nearly torn him in two, his face was so pale... and peaceful. With a shaky hand, Godric touched the face of his son, felt the cold flesh before pulling his body from the casket to hold against him as he screamed into the night.

The land, itself, wept with its master. Darkness filled the land as thunder roared its angry over the sky and rain fell from the heavens as, it too, wept for its fallen son. The great Druga that wandered the lands, the embodiment of Sloth, let out great wails into the night, a sound never before heard by the people of Astragorn.

The Slumbering Giant Walks
The storm and wails finally abated three days later and the High Council was torn. Corvis had been slain by Wrath. The people clamored for vengeance, but they were unsure. This was a war unlike any they had ever seen, while they may be able to tip the scales, they could be damning their people to decades, perhaps, centuries of suffering. The hall was shocked into silence as the great doors of the Council Chambers exploded into silvers as Godric entered. His eyes blazed with something none had ever seen before, rage. He was clad in strange armor and, in his hand, a golden warhammer was held. Slowly, the Lord Protector of Astragorn walked to the great table, upon which a map of Xiola was, and the Woken Giant brought down the hammer upon the lands of Wrath and with an earth splitting roar the granite table shattered. Godric did not say a word, merely turned and strode from the chambers and, mere moments later, a unanimous decision was reached: Astragorn marched to war.

The world of Xiola was shocked as were the Sins and Virtues. Even with the death of Corvis, none expected Godric to go to war. Astragorn, yes, but never Sloth. But he had. Carried upon his great throne into battle, Godric showed a fury that would rival even the Lord Wrath, himself. With every swing of the hammer, he killed dozens, he tore the land and shattered whatever came before him in his blind fury. At the Durn Plains, the same place his son fell years before, Godric smote the ancient dragon Galnarax, herald of the Lady Lust, from the sky and broke the Troll King, Karnach's, spine over his knee. Temperance, one of the last hold outs of peace, followed Godric's example and joined Pride's forces and, finally, a victory was starting to emerge, but Temperance wanted no more violence, no more bloodshed, Temperance had joined simply to make it clear that victory was inevitable, no matter how long it took, and put forth plans for a peace summit that would be held by the Virtues of Kindness and Charity, the only two to remain out of the war and remain truly neutral... it was agreed upon. Godric said nothing, merely sat in his chair, his great hammer resting across his knees as he rested upon his throne. But Asha saw it. The tears that fell down his cheeks, the tears of a father who could have saved his son, who could have stopped this, but it had been 'Not His Problem'.

Family
Lisa Wilhelm [Mother | Deceased]
Dorin Wilhelm [Father | Deceased]
Torvig Wilhelm [Brother| Deceased]
Samara Wilhelm [Wife | Deceased]
Corvis Wilhelm [Son | Deceased]
Asha Wilhelm [Daughter | Alive]
Dorin Wilhelm II [Grandson | Alive]

Passive Skill/Ability
Godric has his natural aura of Sloth which tends to exhaust and slow people near him. It is more effective against mortals then the other 14 and can be resisted with a strong enough will. However, Godric is also has the greatest physical might of any of the fourteen, each of his blows have immense weight behind them even compared to other members of the fourteen... but he is also the slowest.

Active Skill/Ability
Weaponized Soul
Godric's inherent ability is a bit different then most, instead of channeling his power to control the elements or alter themselves in odd ways, instead, his physical might [which is immense as he posses the greatest physical strength of the fourteen], his magical power, his will and even his 'soul' are condensed into a physical form... a form that takes the appearance of a great golden hammer. Godric can channel his power through this hammer to amp himself to new heights of power, his titanic strength is even greater when swinging his hammer to the point that moving out of the way becomes the only choice. As the hammer is tied to him, he can summon it to him whenever he wishes even allowing it to 'manifest' from thin air, he often abuses this by throwing the hammer with his strength and recalling it when needed. This is also the reason why his hammer cannot be lifted by anyone else, for the hammer is Sloth.

Equipment

The great hammer of Godric, it does not have a name, although many back at Astagorn have given it various names they believe are suitable. No one knows where Godric got it, many believe it comes from Godric himself, a manifestation of his physical might. The golden hammer weighs an immense amount and many mortals have tried to lift it when Godric sets it down, but none have managed to even budge it.

Actual Appearance
Secret​

 

[KhalZhavvorsa]

Name:
Serena De La Corte

Nic-Names:
Lady Lust {Everyone}
*She hates to be called by her real name. She simply prefers to be called 'Lust'.

Sin/Virtue:
Lust

Actual Age:
1,000..ish

Physical Age:
1,000..ish (Body looks 25)

Gender:
Female

Sexuality:
Pansexual

Family:
William De La Corte (Father/Diseased)
Lillian Marie De La Corte (Mother/Diseased)

Nation:
Zodia

Personality:
Devoted & Presumptuous ~ Arrogant & Dominant ~ Charming & Eccentric
Selena tends to..devote herself to her practices. She simply cannot have just one person, she must have them all, such is her nature. She refuses to let anyone leave her harem, even if for a small break (Wrath is the only one except from this). What belongs to her, will always belong to her. If she cannot have it, then she will chase it until she can have it, thus why she is currently obsessed with Sloth. He refuses to give into her charm, but one day..she will have him. He WILL be her's.

Lust is not one to down herself, at least not openly. To everyone that has ever known her, she is arrogant and proud of herself and her nation. She will accept nothing but perfection from any and all who have the privilege of being in her presence. Her pride could perhaps rival that of Pride's, perhaps that is why they took such a liking to her in the first place. Along with her..vanity, she is quite the dominatrix. She refuses to be below anyone, in any way, shape, or form. Lust has always been one to take command, even if her lead isn't exactly...great. Even if one were to fight her for leadership, they would face her fury. Lust is extremely temperamental and feisty, thus why she likes Wrath so much, but leans on Sloth to calm her down. (Occasionally)

Despite her flaws, Lust is an extremely charming woman with manors. She may have her moments where she fights tooth and nail with others, but she can put on quite the show when she is seeking to..impress someone. Thus why she is usually behaved around Sloth. (Except when they are alone c; ) Though she can be quite the odd woman; when she isn't putting on a facade. Deep inside Lust tears at herself, blaming herself for the war..hating that she caused so much pain to so many people..and most of all..she cannot stand that she is forever cursed to make people fall for her. Ruing the loves of so many people. it's a terrible fate..but it is her's to bare.

Tattoo and Location:
Nine tailed fox, located on her hip, stretches all the way down to mid outer thigh.

History:
"You call my Lady fickle because you do not have her passion. You call my Lady vain because you do not have her beauty. You detest my Lady because you will never have her. It is the arrogance of man that believes one as perfect as the Lady Lust could ever belong to any one being, be it God nor Mortal. Do not fret over the short time you may hold her fervor or sink to despair when she finds another for it is better to have but a moment in the embrace of the Lady then to have spent an eternity and never have felt her touch."
- Chronicles of the Dragon Mistress, Vol. 1

Birth of Desire
Lust was born from two wealthy merchants in a land she does not remember in the slightest. No matter how hard she tries, Lust simply cannot remember what this ancient place was called; though she dare not care nowadays. Lust's first memories were of her parents announcing to the entire kingdom that their child was born with the mark of a god. A marking that would later identify Lust as a Sin of man. It was from this day, that Lust was regarded highly. From this moment on, everyone worshiped the very ground she walked on; men and women alike falling to their knees before her. It was..blissful to be regarded so highly without ever having top try. Aptly named Serena, she took to the world with her head held high. Little did she know this was only the beginning influences of her power.

As Serena grew, so did her powers. Soon she became the most beloved figure in all of the land. Serena had many a suitor, but she care not for the likes of any man nor woman, what she craved the most was a challenge. Someone who was not so easily swayed by her looks. Many a time did her parents push for her to marry into royalty, but Serena hardly needed to make that commitment. She was crowned long before anyone knew her true being, the name she goes by to this day, Lust. No matter how any suitors came and went, Serena remained the same; unreachable. She cared not for the folly of a man's heart. No. She ached for power. So the day when she was crowned..she truly began to embrace who she was.

The Loving Prince
Serena had met the young prince many years before he ever became king, the two became very good friends and often they played. Little did she know that with each passing day, the poor soul was falling more and more for the fair maiden. It was as though he was under a spell, or perhaps he truly did love her, Serena still to this day does not know. Serena and the dear boy, Lucius, were inseparable. Friends from the day they could talk, till the bitter end where she buried him and took over the kingdom; a day she would never forget. It was the beginning of early Spring, and once again Lucius had asked her to marry him, and once more she turned him down. Serena was not yet ready for that sort of commitment. Her powers had grown to full length by now, and over the years Serena became the Champion of the kingdom, protecting it from outside threats. She grew to enjoy this quaint little kingdom, and they grew to love her more. The day she became Champion, the kingdom celebrated for nearly two weeks! Ridiculous amount of time, but during then it was discovered that Serena had a certain..liking for the young prince Lucius. Sneaking away together, they discovered a new meaning to the word 'fun'. (but we don't talk about all the dirty fun they had in some random barn c; ) It was from that moment on, that Serena learned she liked the act of being with someone in that way. Ever since that day, Lucius refused to ever leave her side, no matter how many times she denied his proposal. The day he died, she finally learned what the word 'love' meant; she also understood that that emotion was not meant for her. Love could tear a person apart, love could crush kingdoms, love could end lives, love meant being with one person for the rest of your life..and for Serena, that life would never be over. From then on, Serena vowed that love was simply not for her.

Zoida, Land of Desire
Once Serena took over the kingdom, she began to look for ways to..relieve her stress. From this single idea, Serena made a harem of men and women who longed to be by their dear queen's side. These people were used in ways that would make even a sailor blush. This act, the one single thing, made Serena feel..powerful. She could control people just with a small wink of her eye, or even just a small peak on the cheek; any man or woman was willing to do whatever Serena wanted. This is when Serena learned about the other thirteen. She was born of the Sins, her folly was Lust. It was a strange thing to think of what she was called, Lust. What was Lust? Serena did not know at the time, at least..not until Wrath came to visit. Wrath was a powerful man, a man with anger no one could quell. The look he wore the day he burst into her tower..it still sends shivers down her spine. A face so bold and daring, and yet..he too fell for her elegant looks and tricks of the mind. He was not so easy to control at the beginning, but the more the two sins were around each other, the more she could tell that she was getting to him. To this day, Serena knows not what he came to Zodia for or why he broke into her tower, but she is glad he did. Serena came to trust Wrath, she even came to be with him many a time, just as she had with Lucius. Wrath..a man worth of her? Perhaps, but he was still not what she was looking for. He was simply a fun game to have on the side, just as Lucius was. Not that she would ever tell him. Serena saw how men could change from her influence. Should she ever favor one person over another..things would become ugly. This is when she learned who she really was, and what the sin Lust meant. From this day on, she was known to the world as only, Lady Lust.

Prideful Men
Many years passed, and Wrath and Lust's bond grew. They were 'lovers' and friends, he was someone she could share her burden's with and she was someone who he could take his frustrations out on. A mutual agreement was formed between them, as no feelings were supposed to be caught; or at least that's how it was meant to be. Then along came Pride. Pride was a being like no other, and Pride's vanity matched her's to a T. They were almost the perfect match for one another, and so they began to be with one another. Little did Lust understand just how her actions affected Wrath. Wrath once caught Pride and lust in the act that he deemed so 'sacred', but Lust saw nothing wrong with her actions..as they had an agreement. but Wrath did not see it that way. Wrath and Pride clashed at each other, both claiming the fair maiden as their own, but Lust simply shrugged it off and sent them on their way. Neither were allowed to fight on her land, for she did not care for bloodshed. Little did she know what her actions caused. it was soon after she banished them from her lands did war break out. At first Lust avoided the battle, claiming it was not her fault that the two could not refrain from being children and continued to fight over her as thought she were a toy, but soon the war turned into something far greater and both Wrath and Pride came to her looking for aid. At first she banished them, but it became more apparent that she would have to choose a side. Wrath or Pride. In the end, she chose Wrath and Lust was forced into the war, causing it to escalate further.

The Great War
As the years passed, and the war became more gruesome, Lust began to realize just how terrible her powers truly were. She began to hate who she was and loathe her sin. Lust. What a disgusting creature she had become. She started a grand war..all because she could not simply choose one person to be with. Death and bloodshed consumed her life, and soon Lust fell into a deep depression. She forgot who she was and only looked at herself as a monster, but she didn't dare show anyone this side of herself; not even Wrath knew what she battled deep inside. Lust was able to keep her facade up through the whole battle, her mind and emotions going numb as she slay more and more people. Lust's hate for herself soon began to rival even Wrath's anger. She couldn't do this any longer. Lust wished with each coming day that this war would end, or that perhaps she would die at the hands of someone. Soon that someone came to emerge. On the battlefield, she saw him..the last sin to join the war, Sloth. His power was unmatched, it was as though something in him had awoken. He fought with purpose, and with a power that made her quiver. Lust wanted him more than she had ever wanted anyone before, the only issue was..they were on opposing sides. Lust vowed that if she were to die, it would be at the hands of Sloth. if this war was to end, she would need to die. As the day came for her to finally battle him, a standstill was called. There was talk of peace, and for once..Lust hoped. Hoped that the treaty would end everything, and that she would be able to move closer to the one they called Sloth. She needed to meet him, to see just how..powerful he was. She wanted him, and damn it she would have him, but then again..after the war..who would ever really want poor Lust around. She caused this war..she was to blame for all the sorrow..the blood of all who were slain were on her hands..and this was a burden she bore alone. Surely..a man like Sloth would not wish to be around the one who killed his son. No. He would never forgive her. No one would forgive her for this war, and for this purpose, Lust has retired to Zodia until the meeting of all fourteen. Until then, she would lock herself away. She did not deserve Sloth, Wrath, nor anyone. He depression had once again reared it's ugly head. What would Sloth think of a vile woman like her? Would he kill her at the very table and sign the treaty in her blood? Would she resist him? No..if that was to happen..then she would accept her fate. if that was the price for peace..then she would gladly pay it a thousand times. Lust hated herself, but she also wondered why Sloth's power had caused her old nature to flair up once more.


Passive Skill/Ability
Lust's passive aura is nothing more than something that makes people wish to bed her, be with her, or simple just be around her. She makes anyone and everyone want her, but this skill does not work on those in True Love.


Active Skill/Ability:
Lust is able to summon forth 12 black tendrils, each one cannot reach longer than 100ft, but they are capable of changing form from a sharp point to a simple hand. They can range in size as well; meaning she can make them big or small for whichever the situation calls for.

Actual Appearance:

(But like..massive)​

 

[Probably George]

Name
Seraphim Kuils
Nic-names
The Savior
Hand of God
The Golden Angel
Prophet of Seraphim
God
Virtue
Humility
Age
1,027
Gender
Male
Sexuality
Hetero
Nation
Independant

Personality
Honorably and just. He seeks peace across the world. On many occasions, he's gone out of his way to help those who needed help the most. Amongst those who have gotten close to him, they all go along the lines that he's a genuinely nice person, not trying to get something out of you with his kindness. Although when it came to leadership, Seraphim wouldn't hestate to take lead and bring inspiration and hope to finish what needs to be done. With the loss of his wife, he's been very hesitant to get romantically close with another woman. While he knows she would want him to move on, the scar still remains. That is the only scar that is more than just physical. She would want him to move on, but the pain of loss keeps him hesitant.

History
"A name engraved in history, an origin of mystery. Seraphim smites, and slays all- who dare bring forth eternal fall.
Our hero, born of man, but risen to god, he brings hope, again and again.
With Envy, Wrath, and Lust. His radiance, fortifies their feirce gust.
Warm our hearts, with words of wise, lead us, unfold our guise.
Across the nations his hand does reach, Across the nations, his help shall bring- inspiration and faces of glee.
Oh eternal Seraphim, bring up your light, to protect us, from eternal night."
-Traditional bardic tale

Church of Seraphim
Seraphim's parents were part of a tiny pagan religion. The community hardly grew past 30. As part of prophecy from its leader, the newly wed couple were destined to carry the physical embodyment of their God; Seraphim. When he was birthed, Seraphim was treated like a god amongst the caravan. It only made sense since he was their God. When he turned 13, he was sent off on his holy mission, to release the God resided inside him. Eventually Seraphim found the temple of humility. The monks worked day and night to help the city's and towns neighboring the mountain.

Ascention
Seraphim had meditated for years, and found happiness in making others happy. The head priest of the temple had decided he was ready to meet their teacher. Seraphim scaled the rest of the mountain and spoke with the avatar of hope. This encounter broke him. His life had been a lie, his family was following a false hope. The avatar felt his plea, and enlightened him. He told Seraphim he was indeed born to do great things. Not to give up on what the church sent him to do. That's when Seraphim had an epiphany, he was born to do the work of a God, and he welcomed that destiny with open hands. The avatar tested his virtue and his will. He was ready. The avatar attempted to ascend Seraphim as his next of kin, but it failed, as he already had a different destiny.
"You're not the one. But that doesn't mean you need to set rest. You are beyond us. Your destiny is set elsewhere."
"Where must I go?"
"That is for you to decide."

Obelisk of hope
Bards tell tales of Seraphim's very presence as a beacon of hope. The man with a tongue sharper than his own blade, Seraphim words would bring hope into they eyes and hearts of those who have given up. Be it through war or famine, his destiny was always those who needed him the most. As every man has a meaning in life, Seraphim's one of many is to help reveal that meaning. City's regularly have disciples of Seraphim, who bring his work at a moments notice. With his stories as old as civilizations, it's often believed that he either died long ago, and his disciples continue to spread his word for generations, or he never really existed, more of a personification of a war relief clan. But those who have his words laid apon their ears have no doubt in his godly-hood.

Next of kin
Half way through the Great War, Seraphim had fallen in love with a woman of Astagorn. With his artful words, he perfectly displayed his feelings to her, warming her heart and earning her affection. While the war occurred, he made sure to see his beloved often, as any time could be his last. At one point, it did become the last time. But now with the outcome Seraphim had thought of. Seila gave birth to a beautiful and healthy son, named Nepharim. But this wonderful scene was quickly turned dark as Seila could not handle the child birth. Hand in hand with her beloved, she told Seraphim that no matter what, no matter when, she would always be with him. Not even death breaking their eternal bond. With those words, he vowed that he shall be the last to feel this pain. His work would never stop until these wounds would become fables of the past.

The Messenger
Even with the Great War continuing it did not stop Seraphim's work. Mass relief was in bigger demand than it had ever been in history. With his disciples and himself, Seraphim went day and night to bring the light to those lost in the dark. This was the time that people prayed for his arrival more than ever. Had it not been from him, it would have taken decades for the lands to come back from the damage. Seraphim's son, Nepharim had journeyed far north to spread they word of his shining father, but after never hearing a response from Seraphim's message, he was presumed dead. But Seraphim denies the possible fall of his beloved child. He soon hopes to reunite with his last of kin.

Family
Seila Kuils (Wife/Deceased)
Nepharim Kuils (Son/Missing)

Passive Skill/Ability
Presence of a Hero:
Seraphim's very presence bring fire to the hearts of his allies, purging out any fear or sadness within them.

Active Skill/Ability
Stoic:
Seraphim can heal the wounds of any number of his allies, but he feels the pain of the wounds afflicted. Even a god has limits to how much he can endure.

Weapon

Godsend, a spear that, according to legend, has the ability to take away the immortality from a god, and slay them. Of course, it's just a legend. Right?

Spoiler: Prefered Appearance

Spoiler: Actual Appearance

How he shows his true self in great times of need

Spoiler: Tattoo

repeating across both his wrists, like bracelets

"Do not believe in yourself. Believe in me, who believes in you."

Spoiler: Theme song

 

[Ryoko Lee]

Sin/Virtue CS

Name
Azazel Perseus-Heracles Caesar
Sin/Virtue
PRIDE
Age
1,027
Gender
Male
Sexuality
Heterosexual
Nation
Azilanvana
Tattoo and Location
He has what appears to be a large sun between his shoulder blades, and at the base of his back is a large, raging, ocean; and there are two people who appear to be flying close to the sun.

Personality

Vain~Prideful~Confident-Manipulative-Calm~Irritable
Azazel is pretty vain. He'll kill a man for pride, especially if he has an audience. This being said, he isn't a total ass either: When he speaks, he is actively listening too. He is also a manipulator, as well as irritable. The more people praise him, the more powerful gets, which influences his moods. Like anybody, he had his bad days too. He is proud of his accomplishments, and the many statues in which his people had erected in his honour, and he won't take no for an answer. Azazel doesn't get whiny when told no, but rather determined. He'll do anything to make sure he was right- even if he's in the wrong. (Which he often is, but due to his passive ability, it goes unnoticed.)




"A God among Men"

Azazel was born to a poor family in a town that would later grow to be called Azilanvana. His parents were confused by his arrival: He had not the features of his mother, nor his father. And, to add to the mystery, there was an odd-shaped mark on his chest. But, despite these oddities, they had to admit their son was stunning. Marvelous. Evanescent. When he smiled, they forgot their hunger. When he laughed, it seemed that the sun's rays shone down even brighter upon their son. The other town-members had felt this as well, and they would later describe him as A God among Man. People traveled from all over the nation to listen to this voice, this voice was so alluring. He truly was attractive, and his personality was endearing. He was playful yet mature, wild yet intelligent. And there was never a man who was more aware of his charms than Azazel.
Not only this, Azazel seemed... Prideful. They saw his rage on the rare occasion he was ridiculed, a dark shadow overcome his features as well as a dangerous glint in his eye. As a child, he'd typically wrestle the speaker to the ground with abnormal speed and precision, assisted by reflexes that weren't human. But as he grew and matured, he found better ways to seek revenge and maintain his power.
As he grew, the people loved him, and there were even words on the streets of Azazel being king. Of course, Azazel wasn't royalty, but they were so overcome with passion for this young man the dreamed they could do anything. And they would, just to see him smile. He was, after all, A God among Man.

"A Touch of Pride"
As Pride grew, so did his followers. He seemed to only raise the bar for perfection every year. The people truly believed he was meant to be king, and acted accordingly. Pride didn't ask for this, he already knew how it would unfold: Riots, protests, marches- until he was crowned the rightful king.
The monarchy resisted! He was not of noble blood, after all. Who was this man that the people prayed to? Who fought and died for him, merely at the snap of fingers?
Azazel, the people whispered. Azazel simply sat back and watched with dull amusement at the wars that were fought over him. He didn't desire power, nor fame, nor greed. He wanted someone who could compare to him, who had the curves to match his edges, an attitude beyond divinity, and well aware of her charms. He wanted an equal for once, and he wanted the world to whisper about this divine woman he'd acquired by charm alone.
He wanted a woman- no. A Goddess, fit for a God such as he.
Is it surprising Azazel had no friends as a child? Perhaps. But he was on a whole new level, something to be praised but not touched. Loved from afar, stunned by his grace. And the reason was this: Azazel was lovely to behold, warm and charming from afar. But as Greeks would later write, if you flew too close to the sun, you'd get burned to ash.
Pride was well aware of his gifts and talents; his transcendent sense of worth had only risen with time. Like the sea, it swelled, and oddly, never sunk. His arrogance was like a moon that only waxed and never waned.
However, Pride wasn't stupid, nor was he blind. You needed more than looks alone and an endearing voice to rule the world. You needed an army, an arsenal of weapons, power, fame, followers. You needed drive to drive neighboring cities into debt, and you needed the cruelty to grind them to dust beneath the boot soles of well-trained soldiers.

"An Empire of Arrogance"
Pride very rarely lost his temper, but some things got under his skin. What he particularly disliked was the lack of respect, the absence of gratitude, the void of praise from other Nations. Very rarely did Pride lose his temper, but all of this had been building. He eventually snapped after King Jason had the audacity to attempt to outlaw him, cast him from the nation that raised him up. Azazel had enough, and waged a war of people versus the government. That same night of the declaration of war, Pride had gotten his Vengeance. The corpse of the king had been ripped to shreds, fingers missing and covered in odd burns, welts, and bruises. A man will fight for honor, but he will also kill for pride.", was written in a neat script. It was unsure whether A person killed for Azazel, or if Azazel killed for Pride.
From this moment on, by the jurisdiction of the people, Azazel was crowned King; and thus began his role as ruler.

"A Battle driven by Lust"
It took Pride a mere year and a half to win the rest of the nation. He was revered as a hero who valiantly overthrew an evil king. By all standards, the King wasn't evil, but the people had long forgotten his many traits. Who could remember the name of an unremarkable teacher when the gym teacher was totally bomb? Nobody. The old king was simply erased from the minds of the people, as if he never existed. He left no evidence of his being there save the castle.
Now, Pride was content- more or less. He had secured his rightful place on the throne, and surpassed the gods themselves. He was quite pleased with how things played out. As far as he knew, there was nobody in the universe like him...
Until there was. Word got to him about a gorgeous queen without any flaws, with power and fame. This intrigued him, that his people were somewhat focused on the new queen as well as him. He realized her powers and connections extended perhaps even farther than him. He had to see her, to determine her worth.
So, he journeyed to her nation in hopes of seeing her. And when he finally did, he wanted her for himself.
Skin smooth and fair, long purple hair and lovely curves he could get lost in... Her endearing attitude and never-swaying confidence; The sound of her brazen laughter down her chambers. Who cared if she had a man? Nobody could be more equal than he. No one could satisfy her like Pride could, and he ws determined to show her.
They developed a relations, making love like lovers and making conversation as friends. It had been so long since he had spoken to someone who matched his vanity and arrogance, someone who could partake in playful banter and then be taken to his bed. Lady Lust fulfilled all of this and more.
Though Pride never lost his temper, or showed signs of attachment like Wrath did, he wasn't quite sure on how he felt about Lady Lust. It wasn't too hard to resist her charms, but he didn't think he wanted to. Nothing turned a woman off more than attachment issues, and Lust was far too beautiful to have to deal with that annoying factor.
However, he hadn't realized his true feelings for her after Wrath had walked in on them in the pleasurable act of fornication, a wild, fun thing that neither of them seemed to tire of. He actually found it amusing at the way Wrath reacted, so volatile, so childish. Didn't he understand that Lady Lust needed someone of the same temperament?
Wrath, having a temper, shouted at Pride, which irritated him but not beyond his control. However, Wrath had begun to yell at Lust, and he felt the urge to protect her. Now, he fully understood Lust could very well take care of herself, but this was too much for him to ignore. That's when he realized, though he'd be too prideful to admit it, got attached as well. He knew it was nothing more than fun, and he couldn't allow anyone to know his true feelings for her. It would be shameful to have fallen for Lust like everyone else. He was better than that!
However, this did lead to a full fledge war. He was glad to see where everyone's loyalties lied, and he felt disbelief at Lust's chosen side. He took out his animosity in battle, not caring who he murdered, as long as they were in his path they were dead. His swings were fast and deadly, with startling precision. He seemed to glow in battle, but it wasn't an endearing look- his face was contorted with rage and grief, making him look terrifying. All he could think about was Lust making love to Wrath, which enraged him. Finally, he wanted to kill Wrath for himself, to save what little pride he had left. He felt as though he was losing himself, and for a moment he even wondered, why was he even fighting? She had chosen. Wrath had won.
Out of nowehere, this realization hit him. His true form faded as did his rage, reflecting the lack of anger. Azazel dropped his duel-sided battle axe and fell to his knees, losing his identity. Who was he?
For a moment, his form seemed to fade, losing power. Who was he?
Azazel couldn't remember.
And then, out of the darkness. His people. Screaming his name. They knew what they were fighting for- they were fighting for him.
Azazel, they whispered. Azazel.
Pride. Pride. Pride. They were proud to praise him. he was, after all a God!
He gave off a godly glow, and in his place stood his true form once again, and the power and strength of pride entered his blows. Never again would he forget his place in the world. Azazel, the God amongst man.

Family
Perseus- Father, Deceased
Heracles- Son, Deceased
Medea- Daughter, Alive
Jacqueline- Alive
Jubilee- Mother, Deceased
Shame- Son, Deceased
Passive Skill/Ability
Pride's ego and arrogance can be extremely overbearing. All you can notice are his perfections and your flaws. These flaws repeat over and over, metamorphosing, twisting, changing, until it's too much to bear. Most end up committing suicide to escape their own minds. However, this affect only lasts for a day.
Active Skill/Ability
"Prideful Creatures"
Azazel can summon beasts in battle to come to his aid. However, they are strictly attractive, feral, prideful creatures.
"Gods Touch"
At the wave of a hand, Azazel can create new lifeforms. These creations aren't the most powerful, but they can be a nuisance. It's an easy distraction. Likewise, he can breathe life into inanimate objects.
Preferred Appearance


Actual Appearance
[True Form]

Spoiler: ~Theme songs~

1.
⇪Dedicated to Lust⇪

Spoiler: ~Theme songs~

​

​

 

[Midrick]

Sin/Virtue CS



Name:
Kharn Stigarder

Alias/Nicknames:
The Judge
Tar Goroth (Kaldorian for master of pain)
Fire Lord
Void Bringer
The World Eater



Sin/Virtue
Wrath

Age:
1,027

Gender:
Male

Sexuality:
Straight

Nation:
Kaldor

Tattoo and Location:

The gaping maw of his tattoo starts on the lower point of his neck and ends near his lower sternum, the mouth extends to the outside parts of his pecs.

Personality

Sarcastic, Pessimistic, Aggressive, Vengeful, Cunning, Reserved (at times), Depressed - before he came to know his power, he knew nothing but pain, Threatening, Protective, Controlled

His knowing smirk is enough to make men tremble before him. His threats are not idle ones he keeps his promises

History

"You who have not witnessed the glory of Tar Goroth cannot comprehend the power he possesses. His martial skill is unmatched, the armies he raises drink oceans dry, none can stand up to him except only the strongest of the 14. It is the fear of his power that drives others to force his hand in ending the conflicts they so erroneously begin. Many have tried to control him, all fail. The 7 virtues chastise him for the use of his force, but is it not them who labeled him so as Wrath? Tar Goroth is the judge, jury, and executioner. Without him the virtues would have no one to enforce their testaments and laws. The pleads of the wicked fall upon deaf ears, only he has the true strength to use his terrible might. Balance and counter balance. Wrath and Patience."
-Excerpt from The World Eater's Ire Vol. 2

"The birth of a god"
Khàrn was born in the hostile lands of Kaladen, the winters were bitter and the summers were hot and humid. His family was that of professional warriors and blacksmiths. His parents were suprised to find that their son had not the traits or looks of them. His height, tan skin and brown hair set him apart from the fair skinned, red haired people. His path to wrath started the day his home town was destroyed by rivaling people. He lost everything he knew, his parents, his friends, everything.
Khàrn's skills in combat and smithing ha been unrivaled in the town, he was almost selected to be in one of the king's legions, the armed forces of Kaladen were almost unmatched in the world. His discovered the destruction of the town after a screening to join the 12th legion. The young men were the most prominent and skilled fighters, Kharn was considered the best.
they approached the smoldering ruins in shocked silence, until Kharn fell to his knees. Everyone there felt a wave of anger, rage, pain, and a lust for revenge. The source was Kharn. One of the men closest to Kharn said as documented "We all knew what was to come. It was the birth of war."

"The conquering hero"
Kharn's fury had no end, the men who came to be known as the world eaters were unmatched by any in Kaladen, When Kharn eventually found the people responsible for the death of all the men's life, the world eaters razed the settlement and rendered the surrounding area desolate. With each passing day Khàrns power grew, eventually the king saw the benefit of the world eaters. He convinced Kharn to join his army, although many of his men wanted to stay away from the power of the court, Kharn believed in the king.
Kharn and the world eaters set examples for the rest of the 12th legion, and eventually the rest of the army. Khàrn was a weapon of war, None could rival his strength and skill, his martial prowess was passed down to the soldiers of Kaladen, and the army was a force to be reckoned with. Kharn had led the 12th legion had been promoted to the kings guard. Kharn had personally saved the king on the battlefield. The old man had started to consider Kharn as a son, and when the king finally died peacefully, it was the second time in his life that Kharn cried.
The Kings son, Prince Haravel, was like a brother to Kharn they had shared a childhood together. When he was crowned at his coronation Haravel began to resent Kharn. Kharn had been the Kings favorite and he wasn't even his son. Haravel began alienating Kharn, using him as a weapon in war.
Soon after People started seeing Kharn as a god of sorts. His morals were stellar and he was one of the best soldiers in history. Kharn in his humility denied all claims. Although he began to question his status. He had aged extremely well being almost 38. This only added fuel to Haravel's animosity toward Kharn. Haravel at last lashed out at Kharn, telling him that he was only as good as a sword, and when the sword was worn he would find a better one.

"The birth of wrath"

Kharn and Haravel had a falling out, and Kharn's position of godhood solidified every victory. Eventually, Haravel had enough of being overshadowed by Kharn and devised a plan to have Kharn killed. Not by any assassin, but on the battlefield.
a great battle was being fought with a rivaling kingdom in Kaladen, Kharn and the world eaters were to be the spearhead of the attack. What Kharn didn't know was that when the inital charge was over the battalion supporting the 12th legion was to pull back. When the betrayal finally happened Kharn didn't realize until it was too late. The world eaters killed almost all of the opposing army, but they were annihilated in the process. Kharn watched as his friends and battle brothers were killed before him, until he was the only one left. Upon realizing that Haravel had betrayed him, Kharn changed. He hadn't felt the power he had inside of him since the day his town was destroyed. Kharn began to change physically, smoke issued forth and no one could seem to find out where, the acrid stench of fire and brimstone reeked. then a blinding fireball erupted where Kharn was. He was no longer Human, he became something else.

Spoiler: Kharn's transformation

"Vengeance"

The Betrayal unraveled Kharn, he rampaged through Kaladen destroying Armies mustered to stop him. All in Kaladen began worshiping him as a good of justice, wrath and war. He tore through the kingdom, none could stop him. He ran through mages and heroes alike. His wrath powered him and his lust for vengeance fueled his rage. Kharn finally faced Haravel in his last bastion. To Haravels horror, his generals had found out about Haravels plot to betray Kharn, and stopped fighting Kharn. Haravel was no spoiled prince who knew nothing, He was one of the closest mortals to Kharns skill. After an exhausting duel Kharn finally bested Haravel. Although with his dying Breath's, Haravel and Kharn reconciled. It hurt Kharn even more that he killed his brother.
Kharn was hailed as a god, he was crowned king and renamed united the Principalities of Kaladen into Kaldor.

"Second Betrayal"

Kharn, or Wrath, as he was becoming known as, began to subject neighboring nations to form an alliance. Most were inducted through diplomacy. Some decided to fight against Wrath. Most were crushed within months, but those who proved to be a challenge were often rewarded after Wrath had beaten them, for their skill and valiance.
Wrath had added many nations to his alliance, He had created a juggernaut of power and no one would dare challenge him or Kaldor. Then he heard news of a beautiful woman, leading a nation not unlike his own. He decided to travel there, to see for himself. He found that the stories were true, and suprisingly he found that he was attracted to her. It wasn't sudden but the more he spent time with her, he felt himself falling more and more for her. After many 'fun' nights, he discovered she was like him, meaning she had some crazy power.
After about a year of seeing her, one fateful night walked in to talk to her, but found she was with another man.
The three seconds after the suprise had worn off, Wrath felt his insides die. He felt an excruciating combination of pain and anger. He began yelling at her, couldn't she see that she hurt him? Then he turned his attention toward the incredulous man who thought he tangle with wrath? he finally had enough. He turned and slammed the door so hard that it shattered and the walls were cracked from the impact.
In public, he seemed unaffected, but when he was alone he was devastated by depression. The grief finally subsided and he turned to anger to consul him. In order to redeem himself in his own eyes, he started a war over Lust, and attacked Pride. Pride might have been the strongest 'Sin' because of how many suffered it. After a few years Wrath had fought Pride to a standstill. But the traitor Sloth, had joined Pride over Wrath killing Corvis, his son. After the virtues had split themselves between himself and wrath, they called for a truce. Even though Lust had joined him, Wrath would never look at her the same way again after he was betrayed.

Family
Ragnar- father- deceased
Rhonda- mother-deceased
King Hadvar (adoptive)- deceased
Haravel (adoptive brother)-deceased

Passive Ability/Ability:

Kharn's anger and rage seems to pulsate around him, creating a field of dread. His mere name can instill fear into men's heart. Even Sins and Virtues fall effect to the aura of terror and fear he emanates. Many cannot withstand the onslaught of fear until they try to do anything to escape the feeling of impending doom.

Active Ability/Power:
"Final Vengeance"
Kharn pulls the souls of the recently deceased back into their bodies. He offers them the chance to avenge themselves and to protect their loved ones. This effect is only temporary, but can turn the tides in Kharn's favor.

"Soul Scorcher"
Kharn is the greatest in Martial skill of all the Sins and Virtues. He is only seconded by Sloth in strength. Kharn is inherently powerful in the art of fire. His signature weapon Life's bane can be used as a conduit for his power. The blade ignites in incomprehensible flames that burn brighter and brighter the more Kharn exacts his wrath. It has the ability to destroy a soul, killing something on a new level. Many rumors say that his ability could even work on Sins and Virtues. But this has yet to be proven.

Weapon

Hellbender

Legend holds that Hellbender was created by his hand, forged by the molten blood of his True form.
It is said to have the ability to destroy a soul.
True Form

Wrath revealed. Some belive he is more than a sin, something evil that could end Xiola.

Spoiler: True Form Face

​

 

[Rexcaliburr]

Name
Erak Invidia
Sin/Virtue
Envy
Age
1027
Gender
Male
Sexuality
Whatever makes other people jealous of him.
Nation
Aurus
Tattoo and Location

The Raven tattoo is located on his upper back on the right facing the left.

Personality
Easily annoyed, amused by others, aloof, impatient, persuasive, charismatic.

Erak enjoys watching others desire and pine for things he has. That way, he can hold them by a rope, teasing them and dangling what they most desire in from of them before tugging it away before they can grab it. It's fun. He's rather twisted in that sense, manipulative and cunning to get what he wants from them too.
History

"Awakening"
Growing up Erak's family had little. They had little money, barely enough to send Erak to school, and lived off rations. Aurus was not a poor country however, for Erak's classmates had plenty. Many of them lived in better houses, some even with parents that were village chiefs or of noble birth. They had everything handed on a silver spoon to them, while Erak worked after school to earn what little money he could get. He was jealous. He vied for the lives they had to be his. But he was isolated and alone, and people at school would shun him and even mock him for being poor. Oh, how he desired for his family to be like theirs, to live in a fancy house and never have to work a day in their lives, never having to slave away at work, and that he never had to come home to an empty house because his parents would never be working late hours for even a loaf a bread.

And that was when Envy began to awaken within.

"The Devil Unknown"
As Erak grew up, so did his troubles. His parents could no longer support him after he finished whatever little school they could afford. But he had a plan. No longer would he beg, for he believed that his family was far above that. Instead, he turned to manipulation, learning the ins and outs of a person and how to get them to give him what he wanted without them knowing. And without his knowledge, the little monster of Envy grew, feeding off negative energy. He thought he was learning to manipulate and cheat and lie, but really he was only unlocking the powers within him. He learned to speak and act in certain ways to get what he wanted, and became very good at it as he grew up. He did as he swore to do as a child, managing to cheat and talk his way to a good life for him and his parents. He got them the grandest house on the kingdom of Aurus, he won favours of nobles, and he did it all without a single coin spent and only his words left in the hands of others. He found their greatest desires and dangled them on a rope for them to try catch until he was pulling all the strings in his favour. And oh, did he enjoy it.

"Ascension"
Given his status he was doomed to outlive the only people that grounded him to reality - his parents. While they eventually died Erak kept growing, soaring past their years. And after their deaths, he lost all control as he looked for things that he could cling to to cope with their deaths. He became even more manipulative, though no longer for himself. Without the need for money or any materialistic garbage, he began to manipulate them for fun and to distract himself from his grief. He turned people against people, making old friends hate each other while he, the master of verbal ventriloquy, played with people as he pleased. However, his actions had not gone unnoticed and his old classmates from his childhood named him "The Envious One", mocking him further for it. Furious, he robbed them of all they had with only a few easy words and turned them on each other so hard they would fight to the death, never knowing what had come over them while the monster Envy relished in his victory.

Family
Rosa (Mother): Deceased
Kelrick (Father): Deceased

Passive Skill/Ability
Those to speak to Erak find themselves wanting something and believing that he might have it. This makes them very easy to manipulate as they already believe that he has what they want and are eager to bargain.

Active Skill/Ability
Manipulation: Erak changes his target's thoughts to his desire, often including that he will offer then what they most desire in exchange for something else of smaller value. Only that that something else is usually their lives. It is almost impossible to break free of this mindset once Erak has placed it in them though those strongest of mind may be able to.
Preferred Appearance

Actual Appearance

[True Form]​

 

[Lenny2000]

Name: Zog Nieva
Age/ 1027
Sin: gluttony
Sexuality : straight
Gender: male
Nation: Zogu
Tattoo and location : all over his belly and wrist

Titles: El Duce (the ruler), Lord Zog, Zog,

Personality: kinda happy as long as you bring food to give, lovveesss food and is purely vegetarian.... like hotdogs and broccoli but without the broccoli and extra steak! Is typically a neutral character that strives for the most part the improvement of his people so in share he can get more food.

Awakening:

Gluttony has been weak for the most part during dark ages where famines were common, he didn't necessarily like or dislike the other sins but when the golden age of lust and excess food and water came about, this is when gluttony came topower gorging as much as possible .

He usually disguises himself upon the mortal world as nobles and Kings to participate in feasts in other kingdoms. When it came about oh his territory to look after it mainly lacked in industry and was based of suburban populations in mass.

In 345AD Gluttony made a deal with lust to work cooperatively in a combination of saturated food to feed both nations and excess lust to increase population, due to the large size of people already within gluttony's nation the population doubled in one generation and kept on increasing and expanding within his nation for 200 years called " The Grain Glutton Golden Age". This is known as one of the good deeds that glutton did for the better of his nation as it starts to draw in immigrants looking for a better life leading to the drastic increase in creation of Half-bloods. Life was great for everyone until lust had had enough fun to play around with as both were satisfied . In 567Ad the nation of Zogu reached its height of 100 billion citizens but with a great rise there comes great trouble...


I will tell more later on )

 

[Ryoko Lee]

Charity is unfinished. Should be completed by the latest of tomorrow.

Sin/Virtue CS
Name
Neveah
Charity
Age
1,027
Gender
Female
Sexuality
Not interested, but she has noticed the physical attractiveness of Pride...
Nation
Jubilya

Tattoo and Location

Personality
Neveah is selfless. She thinks of other people first, especially her favorite humans. Those who praise her, who give but do not take, will have the great blessings of Charity rain down. At the same time, Neveah also enjoys revenge. Those who take without giving, curses the Virtues, or destroys her sacred land, she will gladly revoke the blessings for their family. Their crops will die, rain won't fall, kids will be born into poverty. People tend to be afraid of this, so they typically stay the hell in line.
Also, even though she puts others first, she does have a lot of walls up. Being Charity, she gave her all to someone- her love, her kisses, loyalty, time, trust- her very being, and she was taken for granted. All they wanted was what she could give, and they took everything from her, until she was barren. Because of this, she's terrified to fall in love once more, and rebuffs everyone's affections and pursuits of her.

History

Neveah knows what it's like to go hungry. She know's what it's like to have nothing, not even clothes, and she know's what it's like to be a slave, to give up everything you have left just for some food to relieve the ache from your stomach. She also know's what it's like to change so much to be loved, and find out they loved your gift, not your heart...
She wasn't just born into poverty- she was born in the rain, delievred in the mud. Even so, she couldn't ever just sit by when people suffered. She constantly gave what she had, and that's when her powers developed. She noticed she could touch the earth and the cracked, barren ground would bring forth life. She, knowing how this would help the poor and poverished, worked on strengthening her power- it didn't just come, like other Virtues.
With time she saw she could give things she didn't have before- and she could give blessings. People began to invoke praise in her name, and asked for blessings; being Charity she did. The ground flourished beneath her care, women who were barren gave birth. Dying cities suddenly were brought back, given new life. The poor rates dropped, healthy kids were made, and peace was throughout the land.
They also found that those cursing against the Virtues had even worse luck- children dying, crops failing, rains never falling... And even more praised her.
However, Charity even had a life. In fact, she gave birth to one.
Charity met a man- a man who she fell in love with. She saw the sun rise and set in him, saw the glint in his eyes and corrupt smile, and somebody she could just adore. She gave him everything, and he just took, took, took, until she was as barren as the day she started. One day, she realized she was pregnant, and she knew Greed would take that too. With a heavy heart she left, and gave birth to her child- which survived, due to her gift to make things fertile and breathe life into all things. However, Greed in the end took her too- and she lost her daughter to Greed. Even so, she still loves her daughter with all her heart, and though nobody realizes it, breathes good fortune on her.
Rumour has it the only reason Pride won was because she favored him- and gave his side good fortune. She denies this, claiming she was nuetral territory, as does Pride. But you never know...
Family
Grace- Deceased
Acceptance- Deceased
Chasity- Alive
Marissa- ALive
​

Passive Skill/Ability
(Related to Sin/Virtue)
Just as Greed takes from the land, Neveah gives to the land. The grass will flourish, never will there be hunger, sickness, or drought. Neveah also has favorites, and she blesses them with great fortune.

Active Skill/Ability
She keeps this ability under lock and key, so nobody knows.
Preferred Appearance

Actual Appearance

[True Form]

​

 

[Mqueserasera]

Name
Aisha Saral

Alias
She-Who-Asks-Questions
The Wise Old Sage
The Incorruptible Smile
Many Faces
The Tasteless Beauty
The Grand Advisor

Sin/Virtue
Temperance

Age
1,027

Gender
Female

Sexuality
Hetero

Nation
The Republic of Callipolis

Tattoo and Location
Located in her right palm


Personality
Stoic - Cheerful(?) - Prudent – Humble – Curious​

Contrary to common belief, Aisha can feel emotion like everyone else, even pride, envy, wrath, lust… Although unlike others, she doesn’t leave those emotions control her actions, it’s rare if not never that the Tasteless Beauty shows her true feeling. One, however, will likely be surprised meeting Aisha in person, for the one before them will be a cheery and upbeat girl. But those with keen eyes will be able to see through her fake and artificial smiles. The reason is because Aisha had decided that, while her expressions is not controlled by emotion, having one is still better than none, in fact, a cheery character helps relax her guests and carries the conversation a long way.​

Through her life, Aisha’s curiosity is what drives her forward. The goddess yearns for the truth, the logic behind this all but logical world. And for her there are many versions of truth, and for each there’re many more ways to interpret them. That’s why Aisha values all opinion, humbly learning from even the simplest minds. At times, she would even disguise as a white fox to listen to people’s daily lives' conversations or join in as an old man. Of course there were those she belives to be more corrected ways to live, but she respects all and force none of her ideals on anyone, it just so happens that she’s very good at convincing others.

History
Aisha’s quiet life began in a seluced forest miles away from the closest civilization. Her family knew not of the conflicts brewing across the land with the rises of Virtues and Sins. But they knew at least that their child was not normal. The girl at young ages showed wit of old sages and physical abilities of hardened young men. Even so, they raised their daughter in the quiet way of nature and honest work, for talent and power bring not fortune alone but with hardship along. But the fragile cage of parentship couldn’t keep a destined goddess for long. The bright little girl soon found their way to simple and hollow, she sought a different way, a more complex life in the civilized worlds full of wonders and vices. The young goddess craved answers.​

“She who asks questions”
From small border villages to the bustling centers, Aisha asked questions, questions about anything, especially the kinds that shall not or can not be answered. But alas, The civilized world didn’t want or need a curious young girl, they chased what they found bothersome out of their houses and their streets. The asker was alone. She pondered using her power to get what she wanted, but it was the truth she sought, not what’s pleasant to her ears.​

In the end, Aisha uncommon abilities’ still came into play, though not in violence mean. She couldn’t change what others thought of her, but she could change herself. Her appearance was not of a young girl anymore, but was of an old man, whose wisdom radiated at every step. In the following years, the wise cracking old sage was an honorable guest in any residence across the land. The wise and the great came to see her, they answered and asked questions, some left praising the sage’s mind, some threw stones at him for blasphemy, but it was a peaceful time nonetheless. Aisha learned from people and taught them what she found the correct way to live, the importances of self-control, of finding inner peace and seeking hidden truths, her friends grew many and her followers gathered more by days.​

A threat was brewing, it was the threat of her influence to the people who live to compete for it. The devotion of her followers had proven their fear, the people wanted Aisha to lead, the strong wanted her to serve. Soon after, Aisha found herself burning at the stake, and her executioners found Aisha revealing her true self. The young girl then left the civilized world peacefully without bothering for trivial revenges. This time, the virtue of temperance had settled in another secluded forest. Friends and follower then came for her, and a nation was born.​

“A nation of philosophers”
The new found nation was a modest one. Deep in the wood and under one of the fourteen, this community wasn’t worth the trouble to conquer. But it was a sovereign state nonetheless, and it was named The Republic of Callipolis. There were laws to protect the order of society, and the most severe punishment was exile. But following these laws were never matter as much as knowing how to accept the consequences of one’s action, for one’s personal justice and ideals triumph in the face of the society’s justice. Aisha herself had never held the governing responsibility, but instead acting as the grand advisor for the current minister. Callipolis mostly kept for themselves and only participate in wars to defend.​

Conflicts weren’t completely avoided, as Callipolis grew prosperity thanked to prioritizing education and advance economic policies, it became a bigger target in the eyes of conquerors, despite the rumored Virtue patronizing the nation. Even without the offensive might of other Virtue and Sin, Aisha and her silver elite army can still easily protect themselves from any invader, officially introduced the Virtue of Temperance to the world.​

The Great War
For the most part of it, Callipolis stayed away from the war. There were people in Callipolis who wanted to join and end the suffering. But to Aisha, this Great War at its current state, was not meant to end, even if Callipolis chose a side, the war would go on without stopping and their people would suffer. The goddess had decided and her people accepted her guidance. But then the war’s conclusion appeared on the horizon, and Aisha’s neutral nation now joined the winning side, but with a different goal in mind. The Grand Advisor was able to convinced other Virtue and Sin on her side that complete victory while certain, won’t be easy to earn, and when depressed, Wrath and others can prolong this war for years to come, thus wasting their precious breath on an already won war is senseless.​

Family
Adavak Saral (Father/Deceased)
Kateryna Saral (Mother/Deceased)

Passive Skill/Ability
Very high resistant against any form of mental attack.

Active Skill/Ability
Temperance is the weakest of the fourteen in term of offence, but few can pierce through her defence. Aisha is able to conjure a ward that even the strongest of the fourteen will have a hard time dealing with. It’s weakness is that the ward can only protect herself with its full durability, the wider she makes it the weaker it gets.

Other Appearances

Actual Appearance
​

​

 

[Ilry the Dark Sage]

Name
Soliron Gulfaer

Age
100 (though he stopped aging around the age of 25)

Race
He is the offspring of his Xalian mother, and his father Geir, the sin of Greed
Gender
Male
Sexual Orientation
Pansexual

Appearance

Birthplace
Soliron was born in the illustrious kingdom of Gierland

Occupation
Soliron fulfills many capacities in the kingdom of Gierland. His primary duty is the chief creator of the golem regiments of his father's army. With his mastery of Chamon and runic magics, he has constructed an immense workshop able to produce battalions of golems in the span of mere days.

Personality
Soliron is a reserved individual, much like his father. He prefers to keep his emotions to himself, and only speak in a manner complimentary to the situation that he is in. He is curtious an attentive at all times, and knows that bowing is a preferable alternative to fighting. This is not to say he is a pacifist, far from it. He fights for his father and family with a ferocity only a son of avarice could achieve.

Privately however, Soliron differs a fair amount from those of his lineage. From his elven mother, he gained an appreciation for beauty of design, as well as the grand scale of the world. With this in mind, he strives to make his creations not only deadly efficient, but aesthetically beautiful and elegant as well. He has a mind of efficiency, but the heart of an artist, and in his spare time he dabbles in new and creative inventions to please his father and the citizens of his empire.

Soliron's deepest desires are to unlock all the mysteries of his schools of magic. Particularly, is interested in the production of true gold, that will not wither away to lead. His ambition knows no bounds, as his ultimate goal is to be the greatest mage of the school of Chamon the world has ever known. While it is his obsession, it does not mean that he can't derive a sense of satisfaction form other sources. For instance, he always revels in he golem's abilies on the battlefield.

Religious Beliefs
While a devout follower of his father for many reasons, Soliron also respects the other various virtues and sins, as powers far beyond his approach. He knows to do otherwise would cause problems in both diplomacy, and could even lead to his death in the case of a one on one battle.

Skills
Soliron is a noted craftsman, even among the greatest users of Chamon. With his hands, he has crafted swords that can rend magic, shields that can block a boulder thrown by a giant, and armor as light as feathers and hard as dragon scales. Apart from this, he is a skilled duelist, using his most famous creation, the sword Guldagnir (magic's bane). In more formal settings, he is a skilled dancer, and a bit of a charmer.

Abilities
Soliron is a master of Chamon. His abilities range from simple construction to the transmutation of the earth into metal, and being able to construct golems at will. Besides this, he has the ability to manipulate metals at will, forming shields, weapons, and other constructs as he sees fit. For more advanced spells, he uses a tome full of magical runes, spells he has prepared months or even years in advance.


Preferred Equipment
Soliron keeps his equipment very simple. He wears plate armor, made of enchanted metal, that allows him to move freely and yet still have the protection of dragon hide. In terms of weapons, he carries his magic-cancelling blade Guldagnir. He also carries his magical tome with him at all times, in case large scale feats of magic are required.


Family
Soliron has never really known the meaning of 'family.' Certainly he had a mother, but she only cared for him in the vein of a suitable son to greed. As such, his only contact with her was rigourous magical training, as well as practice of swordsmanship. When Soliorn returned to his father's land to live as an adult, she had told him that he would never hear from her again, and her words held true.

Soliorn has a cordial relationship with his father. He appreciates the fact that greed has confidence in his manufacturing abilities, but resents him for not admiring the beauty of his works, as that can deviate from the requirement of functionality. Despite this, he has a deep appreciation of avarice, as he feels the insatiable need to improve on his own abilities. He keeps a polite distance from his half sister, preferring to keep to himself in his work shop.

History
Soliron grew up in Grieland, at first with his mother. She was relentless in his training, which started not soon after he was able to walk. They would drill with the sword and martial magic in the morning, and he would be bidden to stay up into the night studying Chamon magical theory. By the age of 25, he was a well studied mage, and quickly earning his reputation as a master craftsman. This was also the age of which his mother left him to his own study, promising him that he would be alone, and have to forge his own way.

So he did, and in quite the spectacular fashion. By the relatively young age of 50, he had already opened his golum workshop, and honed his craft making battalion after battalion for his father greed. In what little spare time he had, he researched and advanced his craft, to the point that by the age of 75, he was a master of his art. It was at this time that Soliorn began to craft more beautiful, yet more deadly, constructs in his workshop. He forged many a magical blade, shield and armor set, all for the upper reaches of his father's court. Now, aged 100, not a single person exists in the Gierlands that hasn't heard of his name, or his great workshop that can form armies in weeks. His greatest creation, however, is his sword, which allows him to not only channel his magic accurately, but can nullify some types of magic as well.
​

 

[August]

Original Coding by BriiAngelic

Name: Ottos N/A
Sin: Gluttony
Age: 1,027
Gender: Male
Sexuality: Food N/A
Nation: Zodia (mostly)

Spoiler: Tattoo

View attachment 439745

Location of tattoo is on his stomach where a belly button would be.

• Personality
• History
• Ability
• Extra

• Inquisitive~Empathetic~Reserved~Needy
  Despite being the sin of Gluttony, Ottos is a very well mannered person who has come to terms with himself. Gluttony is the the type who isn't quick to judge people for their actions, especially when it comes to the 14 since he as come to the conclusion that it is something in their nature that they all can't help. Oddly enough, he doesn't have as much sympathy for Virtues, and has gone on record for saying they are idiots.
  Ottos keeps to himself, acting in a calm manner even as he devours a feast. He'll come and he'll go without a hello or goodbye, never giving answers about where he has been or what he has been up to. Even those he consider home have trouble getting stuff out of him. His excuse as to why he doesn't tell others of his journey is because it is something one must experience for yourself, but honestly he just likes hoarding information as much as he hoards food.
  As the Sin of Gluttony, Ottos has an inner void inside him both literally and emotionally. A void that he is always looking to fill, but is never quite satisfied with. At times it is maddening, and in some small form of restraint he wordlessly leaves only to return once the aching feeling has lessened. There was a time this longing had frustrated him, and that time has passed, seemingly replaced with some nen like attitude.
• 
  
  Origins of Gluttony;
  It was a farm, that much Ottos remembers. There isn't much he is able to recall about the land, only that he had a lot of flavors, and at some point being there he came to understand he was different. Ottos had a mark, that at first seemed to make him special. Over the years, that special mark was more of a sign of evil to his parents. Maybe it was because he devoured all that he could from the farm, or maybe it was because he ate part of his mother . . . Whatever the case was, he remembered never really sharing their last name, not that he really cared as long as he got what he wanted.
  To make ends eat, and desperately trying fill Ottos enough for the day, his family had started to reach out to some wealthy merchants. Once again, the details are blurry to Ottos since he didn't pay attention to much outside of trying to get enough food. No matter how much he ate, he couldn't find in him to be satisfied. He was always wanting more-- no, he was always needing more. It was never enough for him, and it made him desperate to get more, which was something his family couldn't offer. So he left. At least he thinks he did, he might have been exiled or something, but just like the farm itself he has no recollection.
  A Servant of Beauty;
  The first time he saw her was when was passing by. A servant boy tripped over a bucket of potato peels, seemingly distracted by girl walking by. Actually, it seemed like everyone had to pause for a moment to get a look at this passing beauty. After leaving the farm, Glut had found his way into the kitchen for a wealthy family who had a goddess among them. At least from the way people would worship the ground she walked on, she was basically a goddess. Even he could see the attraction, and that said a lot considering he had never stopped focusing on stuffing his face for another person before. She was the daughter of the merchants he worked for, and as faith would have it she would become his home.
  Their first one on one encounter consisted of him delivering food to her room, and honestly the steam rising from the roasted potato in a bread bowl was killing him. When he arrived to her room, he had asked her a question that would prompt a long answer from her. While she answered his question, he ate her food. Maybe it amused her to see that he was more interested than he was in her, but ever since that faithful day they became friends. Having such an odd relationship with his lady had given him a wider view than most people had of her. Glut for the first time felt satisfied. He was content with just watching her go through her life, especially when the perfect lady tripped up. Even when she had left her family, he stayed close. While he wasn't always at her side, he did stay near even if she didn't know it.
  The Definition of our Existence;
  Originally, Glut never strayed too far from his friend, since being off on his own made him want cuddles even more. It was just convenient for him to stay near her, and to be fair he gained a lot from watching her own experiences . . . But not matter how much he tried to justify staying with her, he needed to take off on his own. He wanted to fill the void inside of him, he wanted to know why his lady was as she was and why he was like himself, he wanted answers. Starting off slowly, Glut's departure would steadily increase in both time and distance, carefully extending his reach to get as much as he could. At some point he had gotten really far away, and because he was so focused on figuring things out he lost track of time.
  He had gotten trapped in a cycle, always reaching for more but never getting enough of what he wanted. Being away from his friend didn't help much either, since the companionship he had with her couldn't help sooth the aching pain he felt inside. He spent countless days holed up inside a library, burning the midnight oil taking in as much as he could. He spent so much time, exchanging words with strangers from another land, hoarding as much information as he could. When words weren't enough, he turned to food but even then he came to the chilling realization that he would never be full. He would always want more, it was in his nature. Just like the incident at the farm, the desperation took over.
  The Lady called Home;
  Glut doesn't exactly remember what happened, the only reminder that something did happen being the missing parts of him. Whatever it was, the aching feeling inside seemed to reset, and food became his haven once again. He didn't find what he was looking for, and the only way to ease that pain was to form his own theories for answers. Glut was exhausted, and all he wanted to do was lay his head against her bosom as she fed him a ripe branch of grapes. Holding himself together the best he could he headed back to the place he knew her to be; Zodia. It took awhile to get there, but once he got there he found her chambers and just collapsed. Probably not the best surprise for her to find, but when he woke up he was all patched up and a feast just for him was made.
  Both of them had questions for each other. Her, wanting to know what the hell he had been up to, and him wanting to get an insight of some of the rumors he had heard of her while he was away. Only one of them got answers, and hearing them left a foul taste in his mouth. From then on, their previous relationship resumed, Glut coming and going, but never for too long or too far. For awhile she was all over him, even after he stopped using his true form. Although things seemed normal, there was something different. Glut had gained something from his journey, and had something to ponder over to distract the inner cravings he had. She was different too, and so were the people she kept at arm's length. Regrettably Glut shyed away from the situation, limiting his time with her to avoid getting caught in the drama that started to unfold. The typical war of the hearts, two men and one lady, he had seen it all before in different settings . . . The only difference was that these weren't ordinary men, and she wasn't an ordinary lady. During this, Glut was gone more than he was there, usually wandering around in his less appealing form and munching on whatever he could get his mouth on. Glut wanted no part in whatever was happening, he just wanted to ignore it all and enjoy the pork in life.
  The Great War;
  When things really got out of hand, Glut was in the other parts of Zodia, living with some animals at a farm and just eating all of the crops. Things were pretty good, until news of a war reached his little piggy ears. So he started to drop by on Lust to see how she was doing, just not directly. Never being the one to address her, he observed sporadically and only spoke to her when she noticed he was there, something he admittedly tried to avoid. He knew that she would sway him, and he seriously didn't have an interest in picking sides. So he distanced himself from her, and Zodia itself. As more people picked sides, and the fighting intensified, the aching feeling inside of him started to increase. He was getting lonely, and the occasional bits of companionship he got weren't nearly enough.
  Just as food was starting to lose it's flavor to him again, she found him. Shortly after that, he took his place at her side once again, making it clear to the world whose side he was one.​
• Passive
  The Abyss - Anything Gluttony is able to stuff into his mouth is fair game to him as it never does sit long for him. In replacement of a stomach he has a magical vortex where everything he eats vanishes off, which is why he is always wanting more. If he timed it right, he could probably eat a fireball thrown at him, or even a bomb as long as it can make to the abyss in his belly.
  Active
  Hunger - Always hungry for more, typically for food but the need for more can apply to other things. Underneath the mellow face is a beast, waiting to be released. When the beast becomes active, he reverts into a ravenous state of being, getting a massive buff to himself as he tries to consume anything he can. To keep this wendigo like side of him in check, he needs a steady supply of food and something more. Being deprived of what he wants triggers the activation, food being the quickest and easiest way to put him on edge.
• Gluttony avoids using his true form, using his preferred from 90% of the time. He takes the form of a pig more often than he reverts to his true form, and even when he does he is so bundled up that he is just a puff of clothing, even his face is mostly hidden. Only a handful of people know of his true form, one of them being a particular lady with some major boy problems.
  A little secret about his true form that people are unable to see underneath the mass of clothing is that Gluttony doesn't have any hands. Just below where his wrists would be are just bandaged up nubs. Obviously he didn't bandage them up himself, and if it wasn't for her they would still be a tattered mess that he gnaws on.
  
  Gluttony's family, even if he doesn't remember the exact details are deceased. Let's just say that they weren't able to provide a steady flow of food, and the beast within him wasn't happy about that . . .
  
  View attachment 439798

 

[mochi bun]

Name : Wrenna Isolde Rotavele
Virtue : Patience
Age : 1,027 years old
Gender : Female
Sexuality : Bisexual
Nation : The Peninsula of Nüwa

[ Tattoo ]
A large number of symbols along her upper thighs, her inner arms and along her side.

[ Personality ]
Forthright, Humble, Insightful. Impersonal, Phlegmatic.
Patience embodies what her name implies. It is no easy feat to break the virtue away from the calm and collected aura she carries. Years of serving as a foreign affairs advisor for Nüwa has helped for her to develop a pleasant exterior- polite smiles, easy small talk, etcetera. However, when she isn't forced into diplomacy, she has the tendency of emoting very little. It's hard for people to get a read on her or to bait her enough to warrant an emotional response from her.

[ History ]

- The Beginning -
Wrenna was born in the capital of Nüwa, Otahime. Her father was a merchant and her mother worked as a tailor, clothing the nobles of the city. Her birth had been in the middle of winter, the cold air from the sea causing the winds to howl. The sun had just risen when her parents were finally able to gaze upon their firstborn. The first things they noticed were the ink markings along her form and the ring of emerald that resided around her marigold eyes. The young couple had been confused on what could have occurred to their daughter, unsure on what could have caused the physical differences from her and them. Whatever the case, the two did not allow her peculiarities to dissuade them from raising her. Her infancy passed in the blink of an eye due to her demure demeanor. It was easy to pick up on the other anomalies about Wrenna- she never cried as a babe and she never really fussed, a blessing for both of her hardworking parents and the servants that tended to her. Wrenna easily grew into a sensible young girl, becoming skilled in her studies. She was nearly always at her mother's side, accompanying her in the mornings to her tutor and then following her home in the evenings from her mother's shop that she would visit in the afternoons. Her father taught her of his business, an extra precaution in the case that he and his wife never had a son to inherit their family trade.

She developed at a normal rate, growing from a child into a healthy young woman in a handful of years. Her parents were eager to see her wed- there was several marriage proposals from wealthy families that she had received. Many men were intrigued for the 'exoticness' of her hair and eye color that was uncommon for humans her age. There was a Damarian nobleman's son who she was nearly married to, although that concept fell through when Wrenna had politely denied his proposal during a ball. Her parents had surely been embarrassed by that, as well as the young dark elf she had refused. When questioned as to why she had declined, Wrenna had merely shrugged her shoulders and stated that she wasn't interested. The proposals quickly ceased- a fact that disheartened her parents but that secretly pleased the young woman. She really had no interest in being wed off- she was more interested in a position at court, working with the queen and her advisors. Nüwa was still a moderately new land, having existed for only a hundred years or so. There was a lot of instability for the commonwealth that bothered Wrenna, whether it be the fluctuating tax rates or the amount of homeless people that wandered the streets due to the lack of jobs. With the help of her tutor, she applied for a position of apprentice to one of the many advisors the (then) queen had relied so heavily on for her decrees.

The man, a half-fox xarlin that worked on foreign relations and exports by the name of Amadeus, wasn't corrupt or biased when it came to dealing with the people of Otahime. Wrenna learned a great deal while at his side. Her eagerness to learn was palpable and earned her a reputation amongst the rest of the advisors. However, nearly all of the attention was scornful. As the years passed, her enthusiasm towards her work began to fade, alongside the youthfulness her parents had once possessed. It became abundantly clear that Wrenna was something other than human when she visited her parents and noticed the wrinkles on their faces that hadn't been there before. In what felt like a short time, the virtue watched as the queen, her parents and her mentor all passed. Her once bubbly personality faded and Wrenna was left with the title of the cynical, rookie advisor who rarely appeared in social gatherings. Ignoring everything except work, Wrenna did her best to please the new queen and offer her best attempt at ensuring Nüwa did well in its foreign relations and in improving the land's own infrastructure.

- Motherhood -
Decades came and went. Wrenna barely registered the passing of time, only acknowledging the world whenever another advisor or another noble died and was replaced by another. However, another problem had arisen and managed to catch her attention, alongside that of her fellow advisors. On their borders, there had been an increase of conflict between beast-kin and a sudden increase in Damarian elves. Another queen had arisen, a wolf torgtha that was extremely inexperienced in the affairs of royalty, that only increased the tension about the immigration of a well-known 'slaver race'. Being the eldest member of this new queen's advisors, Wrenna was assigned the task of bringing peace to the regions. She embarked for the coastal cities first, meeting with different leaders and working with establishing some sort of compromise for the two parties. This in itself took many years for Wrenna to complete, although she doesn't remember how many. When she had finally been able to return to Otahime, it was a surprise to see how much the city had changed. Gone was the simple homes and markets that had once housed the common people. In its place stood beautiful architecture and a huge increase in cathedrals. An sudden influx in religious beliefs had developed, including those that were based on the sins and virtues. It didn't take much for Wrenna to realize the similarities she held with the rest... they had all been born in the same year and had their own form of tattoo since birth like she had. It didn't take much longer before others got word that Wrenna may also be a virtue.

Where she had once been able to find peace in her homeland, Wrenna found herself constantly bombarded with attention. Nearly everyone she had worked with- her fellow advisors, the servants who brought her meals, even those she passed by on the streets- greeted her with awe. Her work once more became her focus, blocking everything out that wasn't centered around her duties. The queen saw fit to hold a celebration, holding Wrenna as the guest of honor. Unable to decline, Wrenna had shown up in her usual robes and drank, unwillingly engaging herself in conversation with different nobles. She had been in the middle of a discussion when someone had awkwardly stubbled into her side, breaking Wrenna out of the bored trance she had fell into. Ignoring the horrified expressions around her, Wrenna had bent to pick up the platter and assist the servant girl in cleaning the floor. The slew of apologies from the servant was quite amusing, although Wrenna had faltered when the girl glanced up and the two women locked eyes. As cliche as it may sound, Letha had been the most beautiful thing that Wrenna had ever seen. Her carefully neutral mask had crumbled for the first time in the past century. It had startled the nobles around her immensely, so accustomed to the blank stare of the female advisor. Gathering her courage, Wrenna had smirked warmly at the young servant and introduced herself. The Naylian woman had become flustered, stuttering and tripping over her words as she attempted to address the advisor before her. Their conversation was brief and chaste, but both woman left that particular party with fond regards of the other.

Months passed and Wrenna began to seek out the elven servant more and more. The two grew closer, a camaraderie developing between them. It didn't take long after that before their friendship faded and their courtship started. It became quite the scandal- a highly-regarded advisor and a lowly servant, seemingly mingling and flirting in public. Wrenna barely batted an eye at the gossip, even when she was questioned by numerous people who were seeking to add to these rumors with her own words. With all the public scrutiny, the two women saw fit to dispel the gossip. Their engagement was a quiet affair and their wedding was kept even more secret, the two swapping vows in the presence of a priest and no one else. Despite her indifferent regards for those around her, Wrenna had been quite amused at the stunned looks she got whenever she flashed the wedding ring she wore. The years passed, another queen was crowned and the two settled into a blissful companionship. Wrenna went about her duties with more contentedness that she had felt in ages. The inevitable discussion of children was brought up several years into their marriage by Letha. It had been a gentle inquiry, followed by a heated discussion that made Wrenna lessen her resolve. She had never expected herself to sire a child, let alone the number her wife had requested of her.

Although hesitant, Wrenna had relented and made the comprise of keeping the number of children they had manageable. After that discussion, it wasn't long before Letha was with child. The state of Otahime was developing even further, becoming a highly-regarded place for its people. It was a world that Wrenna didn't fear raising a child in, especially since she had a hand in shaping the outcome for the kingdom she had been serving so diligently. She had been in the middle of an informal meeting with her fellow advisors when the news of Letha going into labor reached her ears. Forgoing the elegant reputation she held, Wrenna immediately sprinted to the medical ward. The labor was a grueling process for her wife, but there was little Wrenna could do but offer support. Inevitably, their son was brought into the world. The midwife had easily cleaned the babe and deposited the newborn into Wrenna's arms. As she blinked down in alarm at her son, Wrenna felt a sort of unsolicited joy that stole her breath away from her. Letha had laughed at her dumbstruck expression, although the tears she wept were joyous. Nesryn Rotavele was truly a sight to behold to the virtue- he possessed the same white hair his mother had and his marigold eyes resembled that of her own. It wasn't long until Letha was pregnant once more, giving birth to their second child, Inara. As the two kids grew, Wrenna became even more content. She still held her impartial mask in place in front of her fellow advisors and those at court, but behind the scenes, she was a playful wife and mother who enjoyed indulging her children with gifts and bedtime stories.

[ Joining the War ]
Once war broke out across the lands, Wrenna had hoped that the casualties of her people would be minimal if they would be forced into the conflict. It wasn't long before that hope was shattered. The sins had definitely caused strife amongst each other and the repercussions had spread throughout every single occupied region, destroying whatever peace had been established for the sake of their feud. Although she had never been acquainted with any of her fellow virtues or the sins, she knew she should attempt to dissuade the fighting from entering Nüwa. Letters were written, but no response was ever received. Then, the northern borders of Nüwa were infiltrated. The queen held an emergency meeting with her advisors, throwing everyone into a state of disarray. Even with Wrenna's calm demeanor and her quiet tone, it was difficult for anyone to feel at ease with the situation. Wrenna was once more called into action to maybe ease the tensions with the neighboring regions by the queen. Although she had grown up without studying how to handle herself in battle, it was quite easy for her to have learned the basics over the near millennia she had been around. Letha had chose to accompany her, unwilling to allow her wife to walk into a potential battle all on her own. Despite her protests, Letha and Wrenna left their children in the care of their trusted servants and traveled to the northern regions.

Upon arriving, Wrenna was forced to realize the situation was more dire than she had imagined. Entire cities were struggling to protect their borders, fighting off soldiers that were willing to kill for simple supplies. The virtue and her wife quickly raced back to the capital, informing her fellow advisors and the queen of the fighting that had been occurring. When Wrenna next returned to the northern borders, it was while she was accompanied by several hundred soldiers. Thrust into battle, Wrenna spent years away from her family. It was on rare occasions that she found herself back in the capital and in the company of her children and her partner. While away, her children had grown into respectful young adults who were highly-regarded by those around them. The sense of loss she felt at missing their childhood was acute, as was the distance that had developed between her and Letha. Yet, the war still raged. Ten years had come and gone, leaving a more grizzled and lackluster version of Wrenna in its wake. Her daughter had risen through the ranks until she had been given the title of lieutenant, the two fighting side-by-side in the heat of battle. The fight had slowly trickled itself further into Nüwa's region, spreading further across the coast and near enough to the capital that the queen had sent out even more soldiers to fight. Several years prior, Wrenna had discovered who the soldiers belonged to- Wrath. Inadveritably, she had chosen Pride's side and proven herself an enemy to the other sin. Whatever the case, it merely meant there would be more death the further the opposing forces invaded.

Near 987 AS, the fight had died down some and with enough troops, Wrenna had felt their force was capable enough of handling themselves. She had ridden to a neighboring village where Inara had written her, hoping to somehow see her wife after the long years apart. When Wrenna arrived, the small community had been raided and nearly every citizen had been slaughtered. Stumbling to the inn that Inara had told to visit her at, Wrenna had rooted through the ashes of the village and found her wife, dead and burned nearly beyond recognition. It had seemed like some sort of cruel joke to the virtue. To have been so close to being united and then to have the love of her life stolen so mercilessly from her. Wrenna still doesn't remember much of that night or even arriving back at the front lines. She only came to herself when her daughter had stood before her, weeping in a way that was so unlike the normally level-headed girl. Wrenna had not been informed of what had occurred, although it was clear that their side had won the fight and that it was well-known now that Inara was no longer alive. Wrenna had gathered her daughter into her arms and sank down the blood-soaked earth, feeling truly nothing for the first time in her life as her child blubbered into her shoulder. The news was passed on to Nesryn in the capital, although there was little he could do with the demands of the queen to remain at her side and continue attempting to salvage their remaining foreign relations.

Even more years dragged on, although Wrenna allowed herself to lose count. The days seemed long and cumbersome, each swing of her weapon feeling more like ash on her tongue. Her daughter had been called away to push back some reinforcements that were attempted to cross into the borders of Nüwa. The years still continued to pass, Wrenna delving further into the fight for their lands to be returned. She was a fierce commander at this point, unwilling to back down if it meant there would be less civilian casualties. Three years before she received the invitation for the peace talk, she received a letter from the border. Its contents described how her daughter, Inara, had disappeared and that her squad had no knowledge of her whereabouts. This sudden development weighed heavily on Wrenna. She had not only lost her wife, but there was now the mystery of where her daughter could be or if she was even alive. Despite the scouts she sends monthly to the area Inara was last seen, nothing of note has yet to arise.

[ Family ]
Adriel Ailbrett ( Father - Deceased )
Ivelle Ailbrett ( Mother - Deceased )
Letha Rotavele ( Wife - Deceased )
Inara Elide Rotavele ( Daughter - Missing in action )
Nesryn Kauis Rotavele ( Son - Alive )

[ Passive Skill/Ability ]
Calming Tone : Wrenna has a very specific tone that she use to help bring reason to a person when they become too emotional. It's very difficult to break the near trance she can place upon the person she directs her words to or the sudden decrease in negative emotion that can be felt immediately afterwards.

[ Active Skill/Ability ]
Phantom Limbs : In her true form, Wrenna has eight arms. Once activated, she is capable of using her extra limbs to assist her in any task. They appear in a transparent blue light and are able to go from being solid to being able to harmlessly pass through objects.

[ Actual Appearance ]

Spoiler: True Form

​

 

[athereal]

Name
Virtue of Chasity
Age
[1,027 for any Sins or Virtues]
Gender
(If they have one they prefer)
Sexuality
(Optional)
Nation
Tattoo and Location
Personality
History
Family
Passive Skill/Ability
Negation
Active Skill/Ability
Preferred Appearance
Actual Appearance
[True Form]

 

[Probably George]

Name: Nephalim Kuils
Age: 221
Race: human
Gender: male
Sexual Orientation: straight
Birthplace: Temple of Hope
Occupation: Missionary
Personality: Gentle - Stoic - Honorable - Kind - Determinate
Being the son of Humility, he's learned to put his wants and desires aside for others. Although not as humble as his father, he still cares very much for others, even those who he does not know. His kind heart can trace back to both of his parents, but his loss of temper can be linked to his father. Luckily, he handles it alot more quietly and calmly.
Religious Beliefs: The Order of Gods
All the gods have their own position in a seat, Humility leading them all.
Skills:
Abilities:
Perfect aim: Nephalim can throw a sword as accurate as a bow shot, but unlike a bow, it hurts alot more
Preferred Equipment: Pair of long/broad swords
Family:
Seraphim Kuils/Humility (Father/alive)
Seila Kuils (Mother/deceased)
Mary Einhart (Lover/deceased)
History:

Like Father Like Son
Being as Nephalim's mother died when she have birth to him, Nelaphim became very similar to his father. Humility took his son to the temple where humility had ascended. Despite being the son of a God, he didn't have his own ascention, but he still learned alot in the 4 years of meditation and munk life. To put others before you, and always remember that for their to be dark moments in life, there had to be bright ones, and to look up to those bright ones, and light always vanquishes darkness.

Dear Rosemary
On Nephalim's first mission by himself, he was sent off to the far north to help protect a small village from an invading cult. He stayed for 5 weeks. While there, him and a young woman by the name of Mary had fallen for eachother. She couldn't break it to him, but she was fatally ill. She would want until he dispatched of the cult, as she feared the sorrow in his heart would lead to his death.

Shortly after Nephalim had dealt with, Mary embraced him in open arms and heart. That night, they became intimate, and for a short time, one. It wasn't until the day after did she tell him of her ailment. She wanted to leave with their times together in his heart. Within the next week, Mary was bedridden, and passed away with her hands clasped in Nephalim's. Although it was only a fraction of the pain, he knew how his father felt at the loss of his wife. Everywhere he goes, he carries a small pendant gifted by the young woman: a necklace of a small pair of lovebirds.

The Underground City of Ashnod
Not only was Nephalim the son of humility, but one of his apostles too, as he always admired his dad's work. After his 4th mission, he meant to visit Zodia to visit Lust, as he got to see her a couple times when he was much younger, when ever Seraphim would visit her. On his way, he heard cries of help coming from a small cave near his path. He took up arms and ran head first into the cave. It was a trap. As Ashnodian thugs lured him in to kill and loot him. Nephalim managed to defeat them, but the structure they fought on collapsed. This was not good. Entire generations of families live in Ashnod without leaving. Some by choice, other by the fact they couldn't find the exit. Talking about the exit would land you 50 lashings by the guards of the underground dictatorship. It took almost 180 years when Nephalim found an exit. The massive underground kingdom was like a maze, so he had never been so happy to see the day of light. As he exited, he fell to his knees and cried at the feeling of the wind and sunlight.

Venture
Nephalim spent almost a year searching for his father again, when he heard word of the 13 communing in a cathedral. Nephalim went there as fast as he could. For the first time in 182 years, he'll see his father again, his only family.​

 

[Wackadoodle0987]

Name :: Rhea Catherina Petilia [Ray-uh Cat-eh-ree-nuh Pet-ill-ee-uh]

Age :: 37

Race :: Human

Gender :: Female

Sexual Orientation :: Heterosexual

Appearance :: Dark Brown hair, almost black, usually tied up in a braided bun to keep it out of her face. Steely emerald eyes framed by sharp features that exude confidence and experience. Rhea holds herself high in all manner of company, be they greater or lesser, and never loses her straight stature and trained posture.


Birthplace :: Mor Ost, Capital of Udunnim.

Occupation :: Empress.

Personality :: Rhea walks a fine line between ruthless tyrant, and benevolent ruler. As the Protector of her people, Rhea's duty is to maintain their safety, and their well-being... but should any threaten that sanctity, or her rule, be they from without or from within, she will spare no expense to see it crushed. Abide by the terms of her rule, and she is a kind leader, but those who oppose her are punished mercilessly.

It is well known that the Empress has a fiery temper, quick to anger, and slow to forgive. Still, in spite of this 'fault', Rhea is exceptionally intelligent, and an experienced tactician and fighter - after all, every war she has been in, she has won. It's the sole reason she yet lives. Years of restlessness has molded her into a deathly serious woman that doesn't waste words nor thought on pointless things - this is perhaps one of the reasons she hates the Fourteen, for their immortality has had them grow without knowing the fear of time and death. In her eyes they were all fat and weak, reliant on pure power for their rule - their self-righteousness sickened her.

Religious Beliefs :: None.

Skills :: Rhea is a military woman, trained extensively in single-handed combat and hand-to-hand, as well as the craft of Chamon. Her blade has lasted as long as she thanks to her adept use of magic, and she has learned to manipulate it to her benefit on the battlefield. While many mages see magic as a direct means to overpower another, she uses hers as a tool to support her ability as a fighter.

Abilities :: ? Not sure what to put here. Beyond Chamon Magic and her martial training, Rhea is a mere human, so that's all there is to it.

Preferred Equipment :: Rhea wields a masterfully crafted Longsword, with intricate designs lining the blade, and the Verayn Serpent coiled around the hilt of the sword. A fine Dagger sits sheathed at her lower back, a reserve weapon for situations that demand it.

Family :: Both her Father and Mother are deceased.

History ::
Rhea was born to a dying mother, an affliction that seemed to have run in their family for as long as any could remember. Every mother to birth a Petilian child should die, no manner of magic nor knowledge had yet to cure any Petilian mother of the sickness that plagued their pregnancy, and yet every child was born in exceptional health.

Some saw it as a balance of life, others a curse. For those of the Petilian Dynasty it was a mere burden they were forced to bear. The line could not die, and so one had to sacrifice their life for their child, as any mother was willing.

As it was, Rhea was raised in her Father's care. A stalwart man with a kind glint in his eye, though being both Emperor and Father was difficult, if not impossible. Rhea spent much of her early years in the care of the Wet-Nurse and the help, and as she grew as a young girl, she could never quite tell where she stood in her father's eye.

Recognition was what she desired, and so she vied for his attentions. She would study hard for him, to learn of their family history, to learn about the Empire, and to learn about the world. Of the Fourteen, the great Sins and Virtues for which her father only had praise and warning for, that they were immensely powerful creatures, but such power is easily abused.

"Never abuse your power Rhea. When you are the ruler of these lands, govern by just means. Earn the peoples' faith, not their fear."

Be unlike the fourteen. She had to earn her place, earn her right to lead. In her thirteenth year, Rhea's father sent her away west to Doredhel, to High Guard. She was sent to study and to train, both in the ways of nobility and martial combat. Here she would spend her years learning to fight and learning to lead, she would grow both in strength and knowledge... but also in heart.

During her years of study in High Guard, Rhea met a young man of her age, Gaius. She had laughed when he first introduced himself, a young boy barely in his fourteenth summer, rummaging through the drawers in the girls' dorm - he had lost a bet, and had to get 'something' as payment. The poor kid had paled so badly she thought he'd died and left his skin, at least until he dropped to his knees to beg forgiveness.

"Your Majesty! I- I- My name is Gaius Augustus Darius Aquilos, and I accept whatever punishment you would deal."

Rhea, still only a child herself had burst into laughter, "It's just Rhea, Gaius." She chuckled at his excessive name. Of course, the first impression was enough to make her dislike him, but like a dog he followed her, doing anything he could to earn her forgiveness. Eventually Rhea gave up trying to shoo him away, and the two inevitably grew to become good friends during their studies.

As they grew older, it wasn't lost on Rhea that the boy's affections surpassed that of friendship... but it was something she knew she could never offer him. It hurt, knowing that it was part of the reason for his unwavering loyalty, but she never openly admitted that she knew... and he never admitted either. A shadow of doubt had her imagining a life with him somewhere... but she was duty bound to all of her people, not just one.

On her twenty third year, a decade after her training and official studies began, Rhea returned home. There awaited a father she had not seen since she was a child, whom looked into the eyes of his daughter that he had not seen for ten years, and they both could see it in the other... that they did not know each other. Rhea was estranged from the man she once knew, she never knew him to be quite so embittered, or perhaps she simply hadn't noticed as a young girl. He was quiet, and stern - he obsessed over whether she was prepared to rule, and would be quick to anger over playful ways.

Rhea quickly learned to act seriously around him, and soon it became second nature until she no longer laughed at Gaius' childish jokes, or smiled when she watched children play, or enjoyed the sound of the wind in the chimes. Such things had grown wasteful and tiresome, and she knew why. Her father was dying, and soon she would be Empress... soon she would rule the Isles.

When news came of the Emperor's death, and Rhea's coronation, the Regency Council arranged for Rhea to return to High Guard, where she would be crowned. Gaius came with her, and thus it was that Rhea Petilia became the Empress of the Isles of Celebrant, and Gaius her protector.

She ruled kindly at first, but with her generosity came betrayal. Some of the noble houses began to work around the Empire, to ignore its authority or to abuse the system Rhea governed... some even plotted to steal her seat. Rhea had been a kind Empress, but she had not been a blind one. She realised that as ruler, it wasn't an option to sit back and watch things unfold... she was involved in the workings of her Empire, and she would have to remain a sturdy part of the turning wheel.

Those that worked against her were punished. Those that rose up to face her were killed. Rhea's rule turned to steel, and her grip on the people tightened... but when foreign powers tried to invade, it was her might that drove them back, and so the people could do little but work under her rule, and never against it... lest they face the same fate.