Fantasy The Fractured Lands: Applications [CLOSED]

[Wayne]

The Fractured Lands

applications

application info.

BASIC
full name
age
Gender
Sexuality

VISAGE
height
weight
hair color
eye color
faceclaim (Art/drawn)

PERSONA
personality
vices (opt)
virtues (opt)

HISTORY
Backstory
Additional info (opt)

Character Slots

Player one

Reserved

This character slot will be reserved for the GM.

Player two

open

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Player three

open

Lorem ipsum dolor sit amet, consectetur adipiscing elit. Etiam ut sem in purus rutrum laoreet. Duis eget blandit ante. Mauris nec lectus ut lacus imperdiet consequat. Sed sit amet elementum orci. Vestibulum at orci molestie, dignissim libero quis, vestibulum magna. Maecenas in pretium ante. Sed laoreet metus a neque rutrum, et tincidunt dolor cursus. Sed accumsan leo odio, sit amet cursus sapien placerat quis.

Player four

open

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Player five

open

Lorem ipsum dolor sit amet, consectetur adipiscing elit. Etiam ut sem in purus rutrum laoreet. Duis eget blandit ante. Mauris nec lectus ut lacus imperdiet consequat. Sed sit amet elementum orci. Vestibulum at orci molestie, dignissim libero quis, vestibulum magna. Maecenas in pretium ante. Sed laoreet metus a neque rutrum, et tincidunt dolor cursus. Sed accumsan leo odio, sit amet cursus sapien placerat quis.

extra information.

We are keeping characters as humans only!

Remember that your character can be pretty much anything from knights to samurai or vikings and anything in between, the fractured lands are not set anywhere specific.

For your character's backstory, it can be from anywhere, any kingdom and any land as long as the medieval theme is present. You can come up with the whole world if you want. (The fracture lands exist between realities and worlds, acting as purgatory for all) So no worries.

Deadline: August 21st.

Characters must be 18+

♡coded by uxie♡

 

[Ayama]

fluticasone fluticasone

Basics

name

Callum Thrym-Pennant

title

The Pirate Lord of Otrecht

age

Twenty-Two

gender

Male

orientation

Fluid

appearance

hair color

Claret

eye color

Brown

skin

Lightly tanned

scars

Small scars on left hand, left ear, and beneath left eye

marks

Two small moles on back of neck, one on collarbone

tattoos

Small albatross tattoo on left pectoral

trademark

The ever-present, sly amused grin

height

6ft

weight

135 lbs

body type

Lithe and agile

Clothing

Foppish and lightly armored

persona

Personality: The young lord doesn't appear to ever take anything seriously, which can often irk those he interacts with, and his favorite pastime is attempting to get a rise out of people by being as infuriating as possible. At his core, however, he is essentially the opposite of what he outwardly projects- serious to the point of being grim.

Virtues: Patient - Intelligent - Kindhearted
Vices: Tricksome - Disrespectful - Blunt

Likes: Children, animals, pretty much any food
Dislikes: Authority, lack of authenticity, kelp

Habits: Grins mysteriously when he doesn't want to speak
Quirks: Adjusts his jabot when he needs time to think

Hopes/dreams: To be forever free and help others do the same
Doubts/fears: Being trapped, being drowned, letting people down

background

Homeland: The Kingdom of Otrecht
Family: Alistair Thrym-Pennant (father, deceased), Amelia Thrym-Pennant (mother, remarried), Alastor Thrym-Pennant (traitorous uncle)

Backstory: The Kingdom of Otrecht is a harsh but beautiful land, small compared to many others, but rich and proud. Its people are resilient and tight-knit, taking comfort in each other during the long months of winter darkness. The clan of Thrym had been on the throne for several generations by the time Cal's father made an alliance with the neighboring kingdom of Adrea through marriage.

Though the match had been political in origin, in truth Callum's parents had ended up truly liking each other and very much in love. The young prince grew up at the center of a happy family, and both his parents began to teach him everything he would need to one day rule.

When Callum was nine, his parents welcomed a new addition to their family. Callum loved his baby brother from the moment he'd first laid eyes on him, and vowed to protect him no matter what. Unfortunately, his brother had a sickly constitution, and was lost in the winter of his first year.

The family grieved deeply, and mourned their loss as one, and during this period Callum's uncle Alastor took a greater part in governance so that his relatives might honor their grief. But even after the mourning period had passed, what power he'd acquired he would not relinquish, for he had always been greedy and jealous of his brother, until one day he murdered him and took the kingdom (and his wife) by force.

Callum was forced to flee for his own safety, removed from the castle by a kindly cook who helped him to escape and adopted him as his own, returning to his previous life of piracy. Callum spent the next seven years at sea, eventually taking over from the ship's captain when he retired.

From then on, he dedicated his life to harrowing his uncle's forces, striking coastal strongholds and royal transports wherever and whenever he could, hoping to one day take back the throne. His uncle was crafty though, and he sent a young lad aboard Callum's ship as a plant, knowing the prince's reputation for taking people under his wing.

One night after all had gone to bed, the young man crept into the captain's cabin and stabbed him in the stomach before making his escape. Though Callum had been discovered before he could completely bleed out, the damage was too severe for the ship's doctor to mend. He died and was given an honorable burial at sea, mourned by his people and his crew.

Other: Time means little in the Fractured Lands, but Callum is certain he hasn't been there that long (compared to others) and, though he retains no memories of his previous life, still he feels that protective, brotherly instinct towards anyone smaller, younger, or weaker than he is, as well as this nagging notion at the back of his head that there is someplace he must get back to and something he must do.

 

[yokai.]

the hierophant.

scroll

vergil

cleric

ㅎㅎ

01.

name

vergil

02.

age

appears to be in their late 20s

03.

gender

masculine (he/they)

04.

sexuality

undefined

• .
• .
• .
• .
• .

• 
  
  

  
  
  
  

  
  
  
  

  shame.

  
  
  
  

  the heart's image is painted in sorrow and guilt, thus must be saved with piety.
  

  
  
  

  
  
  
• 
  
  

  
  
  

  
  
  
  

  
  
  
  

  
  
  

  
  

  
  
  
  
  

  
  
  
  

  visage

  
  

  
  
  
  

  
  
  

  
  
  

  
  
  

  
  
  

  
  
  
  
  

  
  
  
  

  
  
  
  

  
  

  height

  
  

  6'1" / 185 cm

  
  

  
  
  
  
  

  
  

  weight

  
  

  155lbs / 73kg

  
  

  
  
  
  
  

  
  

  hair

  
  

  the colour of salt

  
  

  
  
  
  
  

  
  

  eyes

  
  

  murky pond green

  
  

  
  
  
  

  
  
  
  
  

  
  
  
  

  
  

  first
  glance

  
  

  Vergil cuts an imposing, wraith-like figure, clad in dark-hued doublets or clergy robes that trail in tendrils behind each methodical step. Most of the time, his hair is kept in a single braid, trailing neatly down the long of their back. Their face is perpetually set in a severe frown, pale brow furrowed in judgement and scrutiny. At times, a dark mask will obscure the lower half of their face, a half-hearted attempt to hold onto the memento of a long forgotten, hunger-ridden past. From his neck dangles a necklace of old keys, and strapped to his back is a staff made of warped, blackened wood.
  

  
  

  
  
  
  

  
  
  
  

  
  
  

  
  
  
• 
  
  

  
  
  

  
  
  
  

  
  
  
  

  
  
  

  
  

  
  
  
  
  

  
  
  
  

  persona

  
  

  
  
  
  

  
  
  
  

  
  
  

  
  Vergil does not see himself to have ever been a good person, in this life or the one before. They keep a tight leash on their emotions, keeping their movements polished and precise, nothing wasted, reflected in his preference to speak only when spoken to. Even his anger simmers beneath the skin, seldom rising to the surface to be seen by others. A man of faith and few words, his manner of speaking is callously blunt, honest to a fault. They maintain an air of serenity and grace, keeping his many observations to himself for the most part, and is prone to internalizing problems as their own, taking on burdens out of uncanny instinct. One thing about Vergil is that he'll always find a cross to bear, consistently embracing the familiarity of self-imposed guilt for things often out of their control. Despite their general cynicism for humanity, they cannot help but feel deeply about other people. He holds onto the belief that goodness exists, if not in the hearts of men, then in the deeds that they do.
  
  Though Vergil himself is not pure, heedlessly, he seeks out the light.
  

  
  
  
  

  
  
  
  
  

  
  
  
  

  
  

  virtues

  
  
  

  
  
  

  elegant

  
  

  
  
  
  

  morally righteous

  
  

  
  
  

  
  
  

  perceptive

  
  

  
  
  
  

  reserved

  
  

  
  
  
  

  devoted

  
  

  
  
  
  

  
  
  
  

  
  

  vices

  
  
  

  
  
  

  cynical

  
  

  
  
  
  

  self-sacrificial

  
  

  
  
  
  
  

  melancholic

  
  

  
  
  
  

  repressed

  
  

  
  
  
  

  detached

  
  

  
  
  

  
  
  

  
  
  
  

  
  
  

  
  
  
  

  
  
  
• 
  
  

  
  
  

  
  
  

  
  
  
  

  
  
  
  

  
  

  
  
  
  
  

  
  
  
  

  history

  
  

  
  
  
  

  
  
  
  

  
  
  

  lost shadows left behind

  
  

  
  
  
  

  TW: ritualistic cannibalism but make it consensual
  
  Vergil's life began in the wild, high mountains of Ithael. Born to a poor family of no renown, he's always lived like a comet, pulled in by the gravity of the divine, something that gave him purpose. Made them shine, just as much as their god did. From a young age, the god of light, Belenos, had bestowed upon him the holy title of 'sin eater,' a revered yet unenviable position among their tribe that required him to consume the flesh of the dead. His tribe believed that by doing so, Vergil could cleanse their souls of sin before they passed onto the afterlife, reborn anew. What no one else knew aside from other previous sin-eaters was that this task also burdened Vergil with the memories of the deceased. It was a blessing as much as it was a curse to relive pain and euphoria a thousand times over in just one lifetime. Yet the praise and admiration they gained from their people made every sacrifice worth it, and so he endured, tending to the dead ceaselessly, bowing low, whispering prayers and comfort to their cold ears before devouring their shame.
  
  He led a life of isolation, fearing his position as a sin eater would curse others simply by proximity. For the most part, no one dared to broach the walls of iron and thorns he put between himself and the world. The only times Vergil ventured outside of their tower was to give counsel to Ithael's king as a religious interpreter for Belenos' holy messages, and even this, too, was a solitary practice, consisting of dissecting the entrails of sacrificial animals or peering into scrying bowls. By doing so, he learned many things about their god, uncovering gold-spun lies and sinister woven secrets until the toll of knowledge inevitably collapsed on them.
  
  One day, the burden grew too heavy to bear, and so he decided to tell the first person that would listen, a fatal mistake that ultimately led to their demise. At the funeral, Vergil turned his fury on their god for the first time in their life, aggrieved for prayers that fell on willingly deaf ears. The moment he denounced his faith, Belenos struck him at once with a curse so foul, it spread to his very core, corrupting him with a slow, horrible pestilence that ate away at him from the inside until there was nothing left of him to devour.
  
  Vergil died alone in his tower, having been condemned by the very god he'd devoted his being to.
  

  
  
  

  
  
  
  
  

  
  
  

  forsaken, awakened

  
  

  
  
  
  

  Vergil awoke in the Fractured Lands, armed with only a vague recollection of his unwavering faith and a pervading hunger for human flesh. He has put enough pieces together to understand that his god, Belenos, has been so kind to give their soul life after death, and they have decided they must repay this charity to prove his utmost devotion. An obsession with light, they recall, had given them a higher calling in a past life. Naturally, like a moth, he finds himself drawn to the legend that most know as the Pilgramage of Light. Perhaps on this journey, Vergil will find what their soul seeks most and bring honour to his god once more.
  

  
  
  

  
  
  
  

  
  
  

  
  
  
• 
  
  

  
  
  

  
  
  

  
  
  

  
  
  
  

  
  
  

  
  
  
  
  

  
  
  
  

  extra

  
  

  
  
  
  

  
  
  
  

  
  
  
  

  
  
  
  

  
  
  
  

  
  
  

  
  
  
  
  

  
  
  
  

  vulture

  
  
  
  

  bear ghost

  
  
  
  

  
  

  
  
  

  
  

  
  
  
  

  
  
  
  

  
  
  

  
  
  
  

  
  
  

  
  
  

  
  
  

  
  
  

  
  

  
  
  
  

  
  

  
  
  

  
  
  
  
  

  
  
  

  
  
  

  connections

  
  
  
  

  powers

  
  

  
  
  
  
  

  • aaaaaaa
  • aaaa

  • 
    
    
    

    connections

    
    

    
    
    
    

    
    
    
    

    
    
    
    

    
    
    
    

    
    
    

    belenos

    
    
    
    

    a god of purity and light. also known by titles such as 'belenos the blinding' or 'devourer of sin', belenos has an ambiguous and ambivalent view of mortals, and his depictions in ithaelean mythology often pivot between benevolent hero or merciless executioner. those who follow belenos take on the same philosophy of their god, which is the singleminded notion to purge the world of evil.
    

    
    
    

    
    
    

    
    
    
    
    

    
    
    
    

    
    
    
    

    
    
    

    an old friend...?

    
    
    
    

    vergil vaguely recalls having known this person, though this familiarity is surface-level at best. all he knows is that he feels a deep, fleeting sadness when facing them, for reasons he desperately wishes to know.
    

    
    
    

    
    
    

    
    
    
    

    
    
    
  • 
    
    
    

    powers

    
    

    
    
    
    

    
    
    
    

    
    

    mind
    eating

    
    

    A form of psychometry in which Vergil is able to relive the memories of the dead that they consume. This power can be accessed by eating any body part of the deceased, and once consumed, memories can be mentally stored and sifted through by the user at will, which is useful for gathering relevant information or history that would otherwise be inaccessible by any other means.
    

    
    

    
    
    
    

    
    

    divine
    heal

    
    

    Purification and healing magic. Vergil is able to restore minor physical and mental wounds by placing his hands on the affected person and reciting an incantation. This ability is casted through physical and verbal components.
    

    
    

    
    
    
    

    
    

    curse
    magic

    
    

    The ability to wield the dead's sins like a weapon. Once a sin is consumed, Vergil can touch another person and inflict the sin's curse on his victim's soul, physically and mentally corrupting them over time. One sin used per attack.
    

    
    

    
    
    
    

    
    

    bone
    cleave

    
    

    A form of minor necromancy that gives Vergil control over bones of the deceased. He can use this skill to forge weapons or tools out of bone, or sunder bones apart through instinctual hand movements. This ability, however, does not reanimate corpses.
    

    
    

    
    
    
    

    
    

    iron
    tongue

    
    

    As a past sin eater, Vergil has been blessed with bacterial, poison, and acid immunity, meaning he can stomach the most inedible meals that could ever grace a kitchen.
    

    
    

    
    
    
    

    
    
    
    

  
  
  

  
  
  
  

  
  
  
  

  
  
  

♡coded by uxie♡

 

[BuggaBoo]

Rattle and Burn...

'Rain' - Flower - 'The Wildling'

'Voice of the Spirits', 'La Bruja Despiera', 'The Rabid Witch'

She/Her ○ 27yrs ○ 6'5" ○ 225lbs ○ Black Hair ○ Ice Blue Eyes ○ Brown Skin
Powerful, Athletic build ○ Lesbian ○ Hunter ○ Yugardia Jungles

​

This is the Wildling...

---

---

~Looks​

---

---

Rain is an imposing, muscular beast of a woman. Reknown for her huge recurve War Bow and wearing a carved bear Headress. But for the most part all you see of her are the deep set feral blue eyes staring at you from behind high grass or up high in trees. By then it is usually too late for you. She has multiple tattoos on arms, chest and face. Scars all over body. Of note is claw marks on her back. Her hair is usually braided and looks black but is actually a really dark shade of brown that gains soft reddish highlights during spring and summer. During springtime she will adorn her hair with leaves and flowers. And for several of her scars and tattoos will coat them in dyes as part of a rebirth ritual. She knows in the human world, such things must be hidden, but if possible she will proudly show off all her markings and muscles whenever she can. Rain is a generational talent complemented by a powerful build made for speed, stamina and strength, fine tuned with a lifetime's worth of solitary survival, hunting, climbing, running, and fighting.

Scars/Mods/Piercings:
Several self-inflicted scars from ritual scarrification / Tattoos on her face, arms torso front and back. Shoulders are inked too but not where the giant claw mark intersects her back diagonally / ears, nose, lip, hood and tongue piercings but has to remove all piercings to employ her rituals since her belief is that it blocks the flow of energies.

---

---

~Acts:​

---

---

+ | Bold, Daring, Fearless
+ | Patient, Reserved and Watchful
+ | Imposing, Independent, Resourceful
+ | Keen Senses, Internal Compass and Athletic
+ | Artistic Expressions, Animal Whisperer, Big Kitten


- | No Vocals, Standoffish, Eco-warrior
- | Too imposing, Too Independent, Insensitive
- | Curiosity, Wild Animal Temperment, Kill or Be Killed
- | Hates Loud Noises, Physical over Cerebral, Destructive
- | No Human Personal Skills, Demanding Ways, 'Talks' to the Smiling Jaguar

Trivia:
○ | 'Flower' is her given name. Her Shaman name is a series of clicks, grunts and breaths that means; 'Voice of the Spirits'. Her enemies call her 'La Bruja Despiera.' Many common folk call her 'The Wildling,' or 'The Rabid Witch.'
○ | Hunters and Travellers revered her and called her 'The Rain Dancer.' The only time they can see her is when she dances in the rain. She bears the name Rain now with Honour since she is proud to receive accolade from other hunters. Tries to pantomime her name is 'Rain' but if all else fails, she will fall to her other given name and point to a tattoo on her arm of a 'Flower.'
○ | Has her own language of body movements, clicks, grunts and breathing sounds. Has a knack for being an 'animal whisperer.'
○ | Trust is hard to come by, but if earned, she will fiercely protect her entrusted, provide them gifts, however, she has a strangely expectant; whenever her immense frame lies on them, she expects to be groomed just like how her wolf family did.
○ | She may not be able to parse sarcasm nor other common subtleties but seemingly has a 6th sense for danger.
○ | Has caches of supplies all across her territory and has no attatchment to clothes save her boots. Rain always maintains her footwear at a high standard. Always wraps ankles and wrists for support too.
○ | Crafts her own weapons and gear and always adds an artistic carving or style to what she makes.
○ | Earned her first Tattoos when she passed the rituals laid out to her by her Mentor. Finally when she was 16 she earned her beloved War Bow.
○ | Hates when others touch her scars without permission. They are sacred to her and she will instantly become physically aggressive.
○ | When she flashes the Jaguar tattoo on her tummy it's equivalent of giving a middle finger.
○ | The woman is quick to draw arms and hiss versus listening to reason; she deems herself physically dominant and will proceed in kind. When she is in predatory mode, she is a killer and will not take prisoners unless forcibly removed from her 'prey.'
○ | Common urban life is alien to her so she is constantly curious and is always poking and prodding at people, places, and things.
○ | Olfactory is way more sensitive than regular humans and sniffs a lot at things she does not understand.
○ | 'Talks' out loud or dances at strange times. She is 'using her Voice' to talk to spirits; her form of prayer. Drums and Dances appease the spirits; both of which she performs fantastically.
○ | Loves and is Captivated by art and music of the Outsider humans. Known to be bribed by their sweets and songs.
○ | Carves intricate runes or adds more decor into her Skull Headress and Bow everyday. Those are her prized possessions.
○ | Invades personal spaces of those she trusts especially while they are sleeping. Becomes like a playful kitty with them and you may hear her actually purr when happy.

---

---

~Bio:​

---

---

○ | Originally from the Yugardia Peninsula and was to be raised as a Shaman since she was born faceless; the placenta nearly suffocated her at child birth.
○ | As a small girl, her family was teaching her proper shamanic role by channeling through dance and humming rituals since she was mute. They were attacked by an enormous wild animal. Rain remembers her father getting killed before being dragged away
○ | Survived attack and escaped by diving into the river as the beast tried to cross it. Lost and confused she made her way out into the woods. Somehow she managed to survive the ordeal and kept her bravery through dance and drumming prayers.
○ | Against all odds she survived and one day she came upon a pack of huge dogs and some how easily befriended them. They guided her to the home of a lone deaf and mute hermit named 'Aremik'. She took little Rain in and cared for the girl.
○ | The girl would have gaps in her memory, and when she woke, she would recall dreams of the monstrous animal that hunted her family. Aremik told her they were but merely spirits trying to commune with her in the Dream world. But then one day she woke covered in blood and fur. The dream she had the night before was that the monster had killed a deer. There were bloody antlers left behind their abode.
○ | It was here where she was taught the strange click, grunt and breath language of Shamans. And it was here where her upbringing turned. Upbringing? No, it was more like everyday survival training. The only enjoyable time was when the Hermit would let her drum and dance. But it was paying off; she was a capable hunter, survivalist and animal whisperer even before she hit puberty. And she was tall too. Soon she would become stronger, swifter and more agile than any girl her age but most of all she became very resourceful and more connected to the land. She was a generational talent.
○ | Aremik finally revealed the truth to her. The girl was being trained to be a warrior in not only this world but the one Unseen. In fact, Rain (known as 'Flower' in this recluse land) found out that Aremik was one too. The big dogs that roamed their territories were actually wolves from the pack that her mentor had been raised.
○ | These were her people now and for them to survive, they needed to band together for there was a war coming. Aremik called it the War For the Dead. And that Flower needed to become a Shaman too. The training continued.
○ | And so came the day she was ready. She was brought to the top of the step pyramid where she was taught to commune. Under the influence of a multitude of narcotic concoctions and hours of chanting, she finally reached her glowing fever dream and her spirit guardians came to her.
○ | She heard two voices-- The Smiling-Jaguar and the other was her mentor; finally, she heard Aremik's true voice. The final and only words from her mentor: "I have been waiting for this moment for so long. You are 'Waking.' You truly are 'Voice of the Spirits.' I will hear you again. And I will show you. Know I am so proud of you. I love you, daughter--" when she awoke next, Aremik lay in her arms with her heart torn out, Flower's mouth and face splattered in blood.
○ | The young woman stayed for only a single year. She never seemed to stop mourning until that day she danced in the humid storm with the pink lightning. The immense claw mark scar on her back ached and she fell to her knees. A vision of her mentor appeared.
○ | In the vision, she was guided by Aremik into her past. Her father wasn't killed by an animal, no, he was killed by a Demon in a terrible monstrous form. The vision showed her the extent of the slaughter; it was her entire blood related family that was killed. If she was to be the next Shaman of her peoples in this war, she would need to kill the demon and eat its heart.
○ | With her journey set out before her, It was time to leave. She said good-bye to her wolfpack siblings for 'The Voice of the Spirits' had found her calling. It was time to hunt La Bruja Roja.
○ | She found the consort of the Bruja; a rogue bear. She would fight and kill it. Rain was much, much faster and much stronger now. But it was more than that that aided her in killing the beast; it was her cunning. As it lay in her trap dying, Rain ate its heart. She then took its favoured victim's axe and took the bears head. She would wear it forever more; this was her right and it would guide her to her demonic prey whilst upon this spiritual journey.
○ | The Wildling would never see her arch enemy. She entered into the civilized lands and was accused of poaching and killed by an angry mob of townspeople. She would never complete her rite to fight in The War For the Dead.

 

[SavannahSmiles]

asuka

# clan emori

# shinobi

# art by aoiogataartist

♡coded by uxie♡

 

[Wayne]

Dark Reality

Tsukasa Saitoh

The Knight

B

asic.

name

Wolffert Van Hoff

a.k.a.

Wolf

age

Twenty seven

gender

Cis. Male

sexuality

Heterosexual

V

isage.

Height

195cm | 6'3"

Weight

95Kg | 209 Lbs

hair c.

Black

eye c.

Gray

p

syche.

Wolf is renowned for his unwavering

perseverance.

Despite enduring immense challenges and profound personal suffering, he remains resolute in his quest for justice. His determination is vividly illustrated through his relentless battles and his steadfast refusal to surrender.


Beneath his rough exterior lies a deep sense of

loyalty

and protectiveness toward those he cherishes. Although his demeanor might seem harsh, his commitment to those he cares about is both genuine and profound.


His intense sense of

responsibility

and need for

control

often lead him to overextend himself. Struggling with effective delegation, Wolf risks burnout and becomes overwhelmed by the sheer volume of his obligations.


Furthermore, Wolf’s

leadership

role and exacting standards can cause him to

isolate

himself from his team. Whether perceived as distant or deliberately maintaining a gap to preserve authority, this isolation complicates his ability to lead cohesively and effectively

h

istory

Wolf was born in Avendalle, one of the seven kingdoms of Orengard. Initially enlisted as a foot soldier, he demonstrated remarkable prowess and was soon elevated to the rank of knight. However, due to his family's modest origins, he could not ascend further in rank.

As part of his knighthood, Wolf underwent the binding ritual, an ancient ceremony that signified the indelible bond between him and his armor, which was to be worn at all times unless in the company of fellow knights.

Amidst rising rumors of a conspiracy, dismissed by the king and his guard as mere speculation, Wolf’s intuition led him to investigate further. His inquiry uncovered a secretive cult in Avendalle, predating the kingdom itself, dedicated to the dark arts of necromancy. Magic, considered mythical in Orengard, was thought to be no more than legend.

As Wolf delved deeper, he witnessed the horrors of necromancy firsthand, the skeletal remains of the deceased reanimating as undead warriors, poised to challenge Avendalle's soldiers. He alerted the king, who, though skeptical, dispatched a squadron of knights to probe the matter. When the knights failed to return, the king’s suspicion grew. The grim truth was revealed when one knight did return, but rendered mute by necromantic curses; his helmet removed, his corpse confirmed the necromancers' dark work.

The situation deteriorated rapidly as the cult launched a full-scale assault. A crimson fog enveloped the city, and the undead rose in droves, attacking every living soul. The outbreak spread beyond Avendalle, consuming every kingdom in its path. Though the undead were weak individually, their sheer numbers overwhelmed each castle and city.

Wolf led a valiant defense with a small band of warriors, maintaining control of the castle for as long as possible. His combat skills were tested to their limits, but ultimately, the undead outnumbered them. Surrounded, Wolf fought bravely against overwhelming odds until his comrades fell. Severely wounded, he managed a desperate escape, fleeing on horseback into the mountains.

There, weakened and bleeding, Wolf took refuge beside a tree. As he succumbed to his injuries, he placed his sword beside him, the weight of his final stand heavy upon him.

g

allery.

♡coded by uxie♡

 

[Goonfire]

​

• Basic
• Persona
• History

• BASIC
  Full name: Nameless (formerly Senan the Deserter)
  Age: 21
  Gender: Male
  Sexuality: Bisexual
  Home: Waldenthal, Kingdom of Elidyr
  
  VISAGE
  Height: 5'10
  Weight: 160 lbs.
  Hair color: Blonde
  Eye color: Blue
• 
  PERSONA
  Personality:
  Originally, Senan was a spineless man without honor. More and more, he found himself in a cycle of immoral choices and self-loathing, yet he didn't have the will to turn his life around and break this cycle. His greed led him to starve himself of other virtues and led to his demise.
  
  Now, as a wandering soul with no memories of his past, he seeks purpose. He recognizes the tools and weapons he carries are for sordid activities and is afraid to discover who and what he was. His keen mind and attention to detail quickly become apparent as he navigates the world, though his fondness for material goods can override his better judgment. He doesn't pretend to be something he's not, preferring to be appreciated for the qualities he does have. He wishes for a name, if only to be more than a rogue with a vague feeling of guilt for wrongdoings he can't recall.
  
  The thief often covets others' good fortune due to some desire to be equal. He is quick to steal weapons, tools, or trinkets from a foe to benefit himself or a friend. He realizes people in the Fractured Lands don't have much, so a tool or a weapon can make the difference between life and death. Despite knowing the value of these things, he has never bothered repairing them, opting instead to simply take more. He is also an advocate of literacy, seeing the value of such a skill. His faith in any gods has rapidly waned, seeing the barbarism and horrors of this realm. Still, it takes a lot of pressure to break him; he operates well under stress, showing a healthy level of confidence in his abilities.
  
  Vices: Avarice, covetousness, faithlessness, wastefulness
  Virtues: Acuity, discretion, equanimity, humility, philomathy
• 
  HISTORY
  Backstory:
  Senan was born a commoner with no surname. He had few talents growing up, except for being light on his feet. He became a messenger, one of few occupations that required one learn to read. This skill was a source of great pride in his early teens.
  
  When a war broke out between his homeland of Elidyr and the neighboring land of Lauconia, a military officer arrived in Waldenthal to draft young men. Senan, who was 17 at the time, was among those selected. His literacy meant nothing; the uncaring recruiter sent him to fight on the front lines. Though a nimble and agile fighter, fear and anger gnawed at him as the war turned more and more in Lauconia's favor.
  
  One evening, while setting up camp, the company captain called for scouts to survey the valley ahead. Senan and two others volunteered for this assignment and swiftly headed out. As the three scouts—Koray, Ofir, and he—made their way into the valley, they came to a horrifying realization: their route led them directly into the path of an approaching enemy company.
  
  It would have required great cunning to traverse safely and return to their captain, the odds stacked against them. Senan asked the question: "Is it worth our lives?" After a brief moment of debate, they reluctantly answered: "No." In an act of cowardice, the three fled, fearing the repercussions if they were found in either warring country. From there, they stowed away on a cargo ship headed to Kerkland, a neighboring nation that had remained neutral in this war.
  
  The city of Quenstad was the perfect place for a band of pitiful deserters to start anew. Dark and dirty, the city housed a criminal network perpetually in need of new talent. Senan, Koray, and Ofir were quickly accepted as thieves for hire. The latter two typically stuck to this line of work, but Senan made a few forays into a bloody trade: assassination. His decision to involve himself in this line of work plunged him into the dangerous world of politics. He found himself more well-off than his friends as a result, but the reprehensible acts he committed weighed heavily on him. Again, he asked himself, "Is it worth it?" While his instincts and conscience told him to seek exit, the allure of material comforts overwhelmed him. He slowly alienated himself from his friends on this path of greed.
  
  After two years apart, Koray and Ofir reached out to Senan with a job offer from their latest client. Though hesitant, he accepted for the hefty payout. They were to burglarize a noble's manor and steal jewelry, spices, and coin. While raiding the noble's study, Senan noticed a locked drawer. After a hasty inspection, he picked the lock and pulled the drawer open. Immediately, a hand clasped over his mouth and a narrow dagger pierced his diaphragm. Poison from the pitted blade rapidly coursed through his veins as he lay there, gurgling and gasping pathetically.
  
  Koray and Ofir stood over the dying rogue until a third face joined them: the master of this house. The baronet sneered at his target, recounting the tale of an assassin shooting his brother with a poison dart. As the two surviving thieves received their rewards for their treachery, Senan recalled that question he kept asking himself: "Was it worth it?" He had a decisive answer this time: No... but it was far too late. He died in a pool of his own blood, thinking about his friends and family in the crumbling country he abandoned.
  
  He awoke later, in the middle of a bleak, gray landscape. Many questions swirled in his mind. What was his name? How did he get here? Where was 'here'? Where could he go, and who could he trust? The last question was answered quickly: very few roaming these Fractured Lands could be trusted. Some kept their distance, while others attempted to slaughter him. Using quick wits and well-placed strikes with his dagger, he has survived thus far, but his chances are yet slim alone.
  
  Additional info:
  
  • His equipment includes a broad dagger, a targe, and throwing knives. He wears lightweight leather armor over muted, dark-blue clothing.
  • He remembers nothing of his past life, including his name. He at least retained his muscle memory and ability to read, allowing him to pull off various feats of dexterity and glance over any journals or tomes he may find.

 

[yana]

siri

sea serpent

name

Siri

age

24

gender

female

sexuality

heterosexual

• .
• .
• .
• .

• 
  
  

  
  
  
  

  
  
  

  
  
  
  

  
  

  
  
  

  
  

  
  
  

  
  

  
  
  
  
  
  

  
  
  
  

  
  
  
  

  
  
  
  

  
  

  
  

  
  

  hair

  
  

  dirty blonde

  
  

  
  

  
  
  
  
  

  
  

  
  

  
  

  eyes

  
  

  blue

  
  

  
  

  
  
  
  
  

  
  

  
  

  
  

  height

  
  

  165 cm

  
  

  
  

  
  
  
  
  

  
  

  
  

  
  

  weight

  
  

  56 kg

  
  

  
  

  
  
  
  
  
  

  
  

  
  

  
  

  marks

  
  

  She has scars across her face and all over her body, most of which she suffered during intense training. On her forearm, there’s a tattoo of a two-headed snake, the symbol of the Sea Serpents.

  
  

  
  

  
  
  
  

  
  
  

  
  
  
• 
  
  

  
  
  

  
  

  
  
  
  

  
  
  

  
  
  
  

  
  

  
  
  

  
  

  
  
  
  
  
  

  
  
  

  
  
  
  

  
  
  

  
  

  virtues

  
  

  
  
  
  
  

  Acuity ● Attentiveness ● Caution ● Resilience ● Determination ● Courage ● Caring
  

  
  

  
  
  
  
  

  
  
  

  
  

  vices

  
  

  
  
  
  
  

  Secrecy ● Resentfulness ● Vengeance ● Stubbornness ● Moroseness
  

  
  

  
  
  
  
  

  
  
  

  
  

  personality

  
  

  
  
  
  
  

  All the losses she suffered and the constant danger she had to face as a pirate quickly hardened her heart. In order to survive, she had to be resilient both physically and mentally. She learned how to remain calm in most situations, even if it meant being emotionally detached. There's often a faint sadness in her eyes that shows her resignation, but that doesn't mean she's given up. She simply accepts the weight of her own hardships and of those she cares for, and carries it relentlessly.
  
  She always has her guard up, she’s very careful around people and doesn’t trust easily. She can be quite awkward in social interactions given her inexperience in making friends. However, she has a deep yearning to belong and shows unyielding loyalty to those she accepts. There is a surprisingly caring side to her that comes from being attentive. She’s quick to notice what the people around her might need, and she loves to help, as it makes her feel important and useful.
  

  
  

  
  
  
  
  

  
  
  

  
  

  habits

  
  

  
  
  
  
  

  
  
  
  

  
  

  super-
  stition

  
  

  She’s constantly aware of her surroundings, looking for omens that might indicate good luck or serve as a warning.

  
  

  
  
  
  
  

  
  

  singing

  
  

  Whenever she’s absent-minded or nervous, she quietly hums or sings the sea shanties she grew up with. The often haunting tunes bring her the comfort of familiarity.

  
  

  
  
  
  
  

  
  

  thieving

  
  

  She’s drawn to anything shiny; she loves collecting trinkets and pocketing valuables that don't belong to her.

  
  

  
  
  
  

  
  

  code of
  honor

  
  

  It’s important to her to live by a certain set of values and she always keeps herself to the crew’s code of honor; she wouldn’t hurt innocents and she would never go back on a deal or promise she made.

  
  

  
  
  
  

  
  

  
  
  
  
  
  

  
  
  

  
  

  fears

  
  

  
  
  
  
  

  darkness, drowning, feeling powerless
  

  
  

  
  
  
  
  
  

  
  
  
  
  
  

  
  

  
  
  
• 
  
  

  
  
  

  
  

  
  
  

  
  

  
  
  
  

  
  
  

  
  
  
  

  
  

  
  
  
  
  
  

  
  
  
  
  
  

  
  
  
  

  
  

  
  

  history

  
  

  
  
  
  
  

  Home was the sea. She never knew where she came from, who her parents were. Nobles who did business with the Sea Serpents, the most notorious pirate guild of the region, often bartered with their own children to pay for certain services. Sometimes the children were sold even before they were born. She was four years old when they came for her. She wasn’t even sure what name she was born with, the Serpent’s nursemaid simply called her Siri.
  
  She often wondered in the bustling port of Saint Haven, looking at the elegant women dressed in silk and fur, what life could have been if she grew up with her family. She quickly realized it was pointless to distract herself with such dreams. She had to grow up fast and learn to rely only on herself. The crew was family to her, but she couldn’t expect gentle attention from anyone other than the nursemaid who took care of her when she was a young child. Siri was desperate to find something she could work towards, something that kept her going even when every day was a struggle.
  
  She spent countless hours cleaning the decks and helping out in the kitchen, until Master Abram, the ship’s healer, took her in as his apprentice. She still insisted on training with the other recruits, even if no one took her seriously. Most of the people payed her no mind, which meant she could easily blend into the background. Eventually, she learned how to use that to her advantage. It was only when she reached her teenage years that people around her started to take notice. She became an excellent thief, quick and silent. Even if she lacked physical strength, she made up for it with speed and the adept use of a knife. What really made her stand out though was her resilience. She adapted to every situation she was thrown in, she stood up after every punch she received and she never stopped fighting for herself. She lived to carry out the will of the Sea Serpents, but she was still a world away from earning a name for herself. She never had the chance to do so.
  
  There was a raging storm the night she died. The Royal Fortune’s sails were going up in flames. Heavy rain battled the growing fire, dark waves reached across the sky in a tireless effort to swallow the ships. They were under attack. Siri stood her ground as best as she could. She moved swiftly from one shadow to the next with her blade ready. She jumped on a man’s back, sinking her knife between his shoulder blades. She evaded a sword that swang her way and slashed at another man’s throat. One of her throwing knives found someone right between their eyes. It was only then she realized she was outnumbered. A man came up behind her. Siri stabbed towards him, but he was not only big, he was also fast. The man grabbed her arm and tossed her to the side like she weighed nothing. She crashed into the railing, then she tumbled over. She disappeared into the cold, dark sea.
  
  When she found herself on this strange land and all her memories seemed murky and distant, one emotion lingered. She felt helpless and insignificant. Existence was a blink and it was no less pointless and cruel than the endless wasteland that surrounded her now. A part of her longed for peace, she wanted to slip away with the wind and be forgotten. But she couldn’t rest, she had unfinished business. Life couldn’t be just this, it all had to mean something. She would have given anything for a second chance.
  

  
  
  

  
  

  
  
  
  
  

  
  
  
• 
  
  

  
  
  

  
  

  
  
  

  
  

  
  
  

  
  

  
  
  
  

  
  

  
  
  
  
  
  

  
  
  
  

  
  
  
  

  
  
  
  
  

  
  
  
  
  

  
  
  
  
  

  
  
  
  

  
  

  scroll

  
  

  
  
  
  
  
  

  
  
  
  

  
  

  
  

  
  

  family

  
  
  

  Elda - the nursemaid that took care of her as a child
  Master Abram - the ship's healer who took her in as his appreantice
  Kael - the weapons master who trained her
  Garrick - the quartermaster who looked after the whole crew
  Finnian & Maelis - she considers them her siblings, they were around the same age as her when they were brought to the ship and they grew up together
  

  
  

  
  

  
  
  
  
  

  
  

  
  

  
  

  residence

  
  
  

  Her home was the Royal Fortune, one of the biggest ships in the Sea Serpents' fleet. She shared a small cabin with four other kids.
  

  
  

  
  

  
  
  
  
  
  

  
  
  
  
  
  

  
  
  
  

  
  
  

  
  
  
  

  
  
  
  

  
  

  
  
  
  

  
  
  

  
  
  

  
  
  

  
  
  
  
  

  
  

  My Mother Told Me

  
  

  JustNL

  
  
  
  

  
  

  
  
  

  
  
  

  
  
  

♡coded by uxie♡

 

[kasigi]

The Zealot


​

• General
• Personality
• Backstory

• 
  
  
  Name: Goros Alighieri
  
  Age: 24
  
  Height: 5'5
  
  Weight: 145 lbs
  
  Hair Color: Blonde
  
  Eye Color: Hazel
  
  Gender: Male
  
  Sexuality: Demisexual
  
  Race: Human
  
  
  
  
  
• Dogged and unwavering, Goros' very being is spurred on entirely by a relentless desire to embody a purpose, latching on like a desperate animal. This desperation feigns resolve, his fear, passion. Faith guides his every action, and without it, he is lost. He has tempered his diligence in this regard: without hesitation he carries out actions otherwise deemed cruel as long as it aligns with the words of the faith, no matter how venomous they may be. His flaws run deep, and are engraved into his very being, but the terror a lack of purpose instills runs even deeper. Any whispers of doubt have been hushed, any creeping murmurs stomped out like a bleeding flame, the man isn't even aware of his own indoctrination. Regarding his demeanor, Goros is especially animated, though articulate, he carries and air of seemingly endless vigor. Intense is a word that resonates greatly with the man, felt in every word that leaves his lips, and every step he takes upon the ground. There is harsh rumination that unfolds underneath his confident surface, the landscape of his mind is sullen and severe in its undertakings. Despite everything, his actual faith does not wane, nor is his devotion ever truly put to the test. He is stubborn, refuses to bend in his ideals, and has no intent to. In many ways, Goros is naive.
  
  
  
• tw: disturbing depiction of indoctrination and graphic imagery!
  Goros Alighieri's indoctrination was fated by blood. The Alighieri family, bound to Belenos eternal, fed the child's freedom to the beast of faith. In return, Goros would be fashioned into an obedient dog. A hand to carry out divine retribution to sinners and the unworthy. A generous fate. Thus, he remembered not his mother's soothing voice, but eager whispers of prayer, etched into his very being before he could even understand a word that was muttered. As his eyes opened for the first time, the visage of Belenos was burned into his brain, ensuring he would never forget who he was bound to. As soon as he could speak, he uttered proclamations of his unwavering faith, his ideals and morality rigidly formed in accordance to the will of Belenos. Recollecting his earliest remembered smells, the crimson of sinners tickled his nose, the corpses left in his wake already countless. These experiences, paramount as each one was, created the foundation of his childhood and what he would become.
  
  Goros was a missionary for Belenos, enacting crusades akin to atrocities, carving a bloody path of justice. Evil would be rid of this world, and Goros was determined to play a role, no matter what it cost. The role of a missionary, in this regard, was a simple one: spread the word of the one of light, and cut down all that shroud His radiance. Goros embodied the excellence desired from a missionary of Belenos, and for that, he was celebrated. "Prestige" amounted to mountains of responsibilities, and ever diligent scrutiny towards him that seemed to grow in intensity each passing day. Gifted a group of missionaries to lead, his obligation to Belenos was clear. It only fueled his ambition, his conviction. Fed mere crumbs of validation by the powers that be, Goros gorged like the starving dog he was. It felt like recognition, that the role he saught to play was being fulfilled to satisfaction. They were akin to executioners, slaughtering nonbelievers by the dozens without remorse or consideration for who. There were no exceptions. However, the purpose the missionaries served was so much more than that. Taking the life of a sinner was merely the first step. Cleansing their souls thereafter was what was truly sought after. Thus, upon each successful mission, corpse after corpse was brought to a sin eater. Another cog in the machine, fate drew them together to fulfill their purpose.
  
  A sin eater, of who Goros found himself intertwined, spoke of supposed deceit. A challenge of his own faith, from one he trusted unlike any other. For its volatility, Goros couldn't find the words, nor the thoughts, left unresolved, not another word spoken.
  
  His missionaries were worn and tired, but recuperation was not an option. Not now. Goros was hasty, burdened by his own mind, inevitably leading to the death of his missionaries at the hands of sinners. Upon his return, he was broken and worn, self-loathing brewed deep within his being and seeped out. To make a mistake so egregious, Goros would not go unpunished, and he was given one final mission: take his own life. A grand display of his faith, a selfless act of sacrifice to repent and mend. No words could sway him from this choice, in the end, as his faith is eternal, and to face death served as his final embrace of Belenos' will.