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Fantasy The Guardians of Gerhard CS thread

Elysium

Nuts
Roleplay Availability
Roleplay Type(s)
This is the Character Thread for the Guardians of Gerhard RP. If you have not been accepted into the RP, please do not post a CS here. DM a CS to me, and once it is all accepted, it can be posted here, for the sake keeping this thread clean and tidy. Thank you all for your interest in this RP.

= = = The Guardians = = =

The Arcanist ( Zearea Zearea ) - a innately talented spellcaster that gets their strength from sheer strength of will, or hubris as a formally trained mage would say. A charismatic force of arcane strength that is better on our side, than on our enemies

The Archer ( Humble Shipper Humble Shipper ) - a survivalist that's as comfortable being on their own, as they are providing cover fire on a team. A skilled tracker that's a crack shot when recon becomes battle.

The Leader ( Elysium Elysium ) - a mid-ranked officer in the main corps, chosen to be commander for this mission. A capable combatant with years of experience, although they may not be quite completely hardened yet.

The Mage ( Noivian Noivian ) - a mage that dabbles in all types of magic, and knows their stuff when it comes to all things magical, and is well read in general. Have a question, ask the Mage.

The Noble ( Jorgo800 Jorgo800 ) - a youngest child of a large noble family, far removed from being an heir, and promised to the Guardians in return for favor from the royal family. Formally educated in magic, combat, and general knowledge, but short on real experience.

The Priest(ess) Meatball30 Meatball30 - A goodly cleric who found revelation and joined the Guardians as a healer and source of divine knowledge. A source of wisdom and guidance for the mercenaries.

The Rogue - a smooth talking, light fingered, shady scoundrel with a quick wit and a hidden dagger. A fine friend, but keep an eye on your coin purse in their presence.

The Smith - a veteran warrior who retired from the front lines to build armor and weapons for the military. Took up arms once again when times became tough.

The Soldier - a new talent that impressed all their higher ups during training, and was accepted by the Guardians very early into their career. Untested but shown to be capable during training and early missions.

The Vagabond - a proven combatant that constantly looks for new ways to challenge themselves, sometimes leading to headaches. Despite this, their skill and luck has proven them dependable time and time again.

= = = The Hand of Nocturne = = =

The Assassin ( Hard Boiled Hard Boiled ) - a deadly killer-for-hire that's feared and respected in the underworld. Their blade never misses its mark, and their soul is tainted with innumerable kills.

The Bandit ( TobiornotTobi TobiornotTobi ) - The leader of the Gondar bandit clan, with designs on their own Gerhardic throne. Savage and hateful, this merciless beast in mortal skin is a prime suspect in recent events.

The Lich ( Zariah Turner Zariah Turner ) - a long dead wizard with a powerful ability in darker magics. Seems like they just want to watch the world burn, but could they have a clever ulterior motive lurking in that sadistic, seemingly insane rotted mind?

The Oathbreaker Nihlus Nihlus - a former paladin that lost their path after a traumatic life event. A powerful warrior with few remaining morals and a warped sense of honor.

The Warlock ( Stern LuLuLu Stern LuLuLu ) - a ruthless spell sword that sold their soul to an abyssal entity for greater power. Enough of a fiend in their own right, this vengeance seeker wields both hellfire and steel.​
 
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Role: Arcanist
Name: Ashlia
Age: 29
Height: 5"2'
Weight: 40kg​

Armor and weaponry: Ashlia wears light-weight robes inlaid with arcane symbols called runes. These are designed to reduce damage taken by damaging spells and effects. A special feature of her robes is that once per fight, her form turns invisible, making it difficult to land an attack for that round. However, it does not muffle any sounds she makes so her general position is still knowable.

Ashlia’s staff is made of sleek, smooth dark wood with a warm, almost living feel. At the top, a swirling metal orb hums with energy, shifting colors like a magical mood ring. Light but sturdy, it’s enchanted to absorb her excess magic, acting like a pressure valve to keep her powers in check, and allows her to redirect the mana it absorbs into spells without fear of losing control.

  • Mana Shield: Creates a shield of pure mana around Ashlia, or an ally. It absorbs a portion of incoming damage.
  • Mana Pulse: Releases a wave of pent up energy that disrupts the flow of magic in her vicinity, silencing spellcasting and interrupting ongoing spells for a brief time.
  • Magic Missile: Summons multiple beams of energy that unerringly seek out targets, causing small bursts of damage.

Spell Repertoire

Passive: Siphon
Ashlia’s magic is like a sponge, constantly soaking up the energy and emotions around her. It’s subtle most of the time, just a quiet hum in the background. But when things get intense, so does the siphoning. She starts pulling in more, draining people, messing with spells, even tugging on the vibe of the space. The stronger her emotions, the wilder it gets, all reflecting whatever mix of energy she’s absorbed.


Emotional Outpour (When She Hits Her Limit)

  • Grief/Agony: Sorrow Surge
    When grief takes over, Ashlia’s magic cracks wide open. All that sorrow she’s been pulling in shatters into raw destruction. Walls crumble, objects break, and the air feels like it’s pressing down, heavy and hopeless. Mages get drained dry, and non-magical folks? They feel like they just ran a marathon in a furnace.
  • Self-Loathing/Shame: Binding Despair
    When she’s drowning in doubt, her magic turns oppressive. The mana she’s sucked up becomes invisible chains, dragging everyone down with her. People move slower, spells feel like they’re stuck in molasses, and the whole atmosphere screams “why bother?”
  • Fear/Desperation: Phantom Rift
    Fear shatters her grip on reality. The energy she’s siphoned twists into illusions, flickering versions of her and everything around her. It’s like a nightmare come to life. Enemies get thrown off, struggling to tell what’s real, while Ashlia slips through the cracks, impossible to pin down.
  • Rage/Betrayal: Arcane Maelstrom
    Anger? That’s when she really lets loose. All the magic she’s soaked up turns into a chaotic storm, bolts of energy flying everywhere, tearing through anything in their way. She can’t control it, and honestly, it doesn’t care what it destroys.
  • Exaltation/Awe: Overflow
    When she’s actually happy (rare, but it happens), her magic shifts into overdrive. All that energy she’s been hoarding spills out, charging up everyone around her. Spells hit harder, strength peaks, and even the tired feel like they could take on the world. It’s like sharing a little slice of her joy.
When an Emotional Outpour occurs, it is short lived. Afterward, Ashlia becomes incredibly exhausted and cannot use Emotional Outpouring again. It takes a full nights rest for her to recuperate.

Background:
Before Ashlia was an arcanist, she was just a kid stuck with powers she couldn’t control. In Black Hollow, a village that hated magic with a passion, even a hint of sorcery was enough to make people terrified. Her powers made her a target, and the Witch Hunters, a brutal group hell-bent on wiping out magic, were always lurking, making everyone too scared to do anything but despise her.

Her family, who’d once loved and protected her, turned against her too. Her dad, the village leader and a devout man, had too much at stake. Every time her powers got out of control—whether it was accidentally setting something on fire or killing the crops without meaning to, the villagers grew more hostile. Rumors spread, and the blame fell squarely on her family. Her dad finally made the heartbreaking decision to send her away, not because he hated her but because he was desperate to protect the rest of the family from the Witch Hunters’ wrath.

Thrown out and alone, Ashlia wandered from place to place, barely surviving. Everywhere she went, her powers made her an outcast. She hated herself, convinced she was nothing but a monster. Things hit rock bottom when she was starving and at the end of her rope. That’s when a stranger, a villain with big ambitions, showed up. They saw something in her, the "potential" to turn her destructive fits into something controlled and powerful. They promised her the one thing she wanted most: control. Along with it came the chance to be respected, maybe even feared, instead of hated.

Desperate, Ashlia said yes. For a while, she did their dirty work, using her magic to help with their schemes. But fighting to survive or defend someone was one thing; deliberately hurting innocent people just didn’t sit right with her. She couldn’t stomach the cruelty or the calculated violence the villain demanded. She was clumsy, unsure, and ultimately terrible at being a villain.

It wasn’t long before the Guardians, mercenaries dedicated to stopping people like her new boss, showed up and wrecked their plans. When push came to shove, Ashlia couldn’t hold her ground. The villain cut their losses and left her behind, and she was forced to deal with the mess she’d helped create. Ashamed and lost, she held onto the faint hope that maybe, one day, she could rise above everything that had happened and find her own way forward.

Reason:
After capturing Ashlia, the Guardians quickly realized she wasn’t the cold-hearted villain they had expected. It didn’t take long for them to see that she’d been manipulated into the role, dragged into the villain’s schemes out of desperation rather than malice. Her hesitance during confrontations, her unwillingness to harm innocents, and her overall discomfort with the plans she was part of made it clear she had no real intention of doing evil.

When they questioned her, she opened up about her past, about being cast out by her family, rejected by her village, and hunted because of her uncontrollable magic. She spoke of how the villain had preyed on her vulnerabilities, offering her control and respect she couldn’t find anywhere else. The Guardians, though cautious, saw the pain in her story and recognized that she wasn’t a threat but someone who had been hurt and lost for too long.

Rather than condemning her, the Guardians decided to give her a chance to turn her life around. They placed her under the mentorship of Caelum, a senior member of their group who was not only a powerful mage but someone with years of experience mastering his own magic. He understood the struggles of living with powers that others feared and mistrusted, and he agreed to guide Ashlia, helping her gain the control and understanding she had been searching for.

Under Caelum’s watchful eye, Ashlia began to rebuild herself. He pushed her to confront her doubts and fears while teaching her discipline and balance. For five years, she trained as his apprentice, learning not just how to wield her magic but how to harness it for good. He became a steady presence in her life, a mentor, a friend, and someone who believed in her when she struggled to believe in herself.

When the time came, Caelum saw something in Ashlia that even she hadn’t noticed: readiness. She had grown stronger, both in her abilities and her confidence. He encouraged her to step forward and prove to the rest of the Guardians that she wasn’t just some troubled soul looking for redemption but a capable mage who could stand alongside them. After long discussions and Ashlia’s own assurance that she was ready, the Guardians agreed.

Now, Ashlia has moved from apprentice to active member of the team, taking on missions and standing as proof that even the most broken paths can lead to something greater.
 
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"What's mine is mine, and what's yours is mine!"


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Cnut Svartrson

Role: The Bandit
Name: Cnut Svartrson
Age: 35
Height: 6'3
Weight: 218 lbs.
Physical Description: Cnut is a Caucasian male with a head of jet black hair he keeps tied in a man bun atop his head. A bushy beard adorns his face and his brown eyes are topped with thick eyebrows that resemble caterpillars. His nose is narrow in shape and if you look closely enough, pink lips can be seen inside the sea of facial hair that is his beard. The first words that come to mind when describing Cnut's physique are 'hulking' and 'imposing'. Standing at a tall 6'3 and weighting 218 lbs, he is a towering predator with muscles to match his above average height. When outside of combat, Cnut tends to slouch when standing and walking about, but stands at full height when in battle. Cnut wears a mishmash assortment of armor on his body. Each piece looks as if it was taken from a different set of armor entirely, which is true. Any and every fallen foe has the potential to have their garbs, gear and accessories looted from their corpse, becoming a part of Cnut's wardrobe. There isn't a single article of clothing on Cnut's body that wasn't procured from someone he or his horde of bandits killed. The black fur cloak he wears over his shoulders was claimed from a noble who wandered into the clutches of Cnut and his highwaymen. His silver chestplate, from a guard escorting foreign dignitary into Gerhard. His black pants and brown boots were taken off a drunkard who made the fatal mistake of scuffing Cnut's original pair, which he then used to stomp a mudhole in his butt. But the accessory Cnut values the most is his belt. It was the championship belt from a jousting tournament, 'reclaimed' by Cnut when its champion Cedric Vanderdash refused to take a dive so Cnut could win big in the betting ring. It is large and black with a centerpiece the size of two hands joined together by their fingertips.

Likes: Fishing, writing dirty limericks

Armor and Weaponry:

Armor

Cnut prefers to keep his armor usage as light as possible to maximize his movement speed and flexibility. To this end, he wears shoulder pauldrons, metal gauntlets, a chestplate and metal greaves.

Weaponry

  • Swords, knives, axes, Cnut can and will wield any weapon he can get his hands on. His primary arsenal consists of two elongated machetes, a bandoleer of throwing knives, and throwing axes he keeps on his belt.
  • A lifetime of physical activity, ranging from military service to outrunning the law have granted Cnut a fast and strong body. He's not just muscular, he's also quick as a snake.
  • Cnut is also in possession of a myriad of pets bought, bred and stolen over the years. He deploys them into battle whenever available, the most active of these being his two wild mongrel dogs named Cook-Cook and Bronzie.
  • A legion of bandits at his disposal! Low in quality, high in quantity!

Personality: Brains, brawn, brutality! Cnut is the unholy trinity of these three aspects. And when you add bottomless ambition and a thirst for money, power and glory, you have a serious threat to everyone around. He is a brute of a man with no lack of self-worth. Cnut knows what he wants, and more importantly, that he has the strength to take it. And he doesn't care how many people have to get hurt in the process. Life, like leftover herring, is cheap to him. He won't hesitate to kill and at time takes great pleasure in the deed, along with stealing the victims goods. To compliment his primitive way of thinking, Cnut also has a twisted sense of humor. He finds just as much amusement in celebrating his victory as he does in the heat of battle, fighting for survival. Revelry is a big part of his life as well. He has a jovial spirit and can be a goofball during low stress situations or when he's in a good mood. But when his temper rises, it's difficult to calm him down. His fury can sometimes burn until everything around him is cinder. However, Cnut is more than just an axe-wielding meathead. Years served in the Gerhard military before his dishonorable expulsion blesses him with cunning very few in his line of work possess. His time as a soldier gave him hands-on lessons in organization, planning and guerilla tactics, which he now employs in his subsequent line of work as the leader of the Gondar Bandit Clan.

Background: Cnut was born on a frozen island disconnected from the hustle and bustle of the mainland continent and Gerhard. His parents were fishers who emigrated from the island to seek better opportunities for themselves and their son. They didn't have a lot of money, but Cnut never went to bed hungry. When he was old enough, he began attending school, where he was belittled for his short stature by the other children. As he grew older, Cnut noticed other discrepancies and inequalities in his life. Why did he have to wear patched together rags while others wore bright colored robes. Why did his parents have to leave early in the morning and return late, too tired to play while other parents walked around town with no cares at all? Young Cnut spend his days wondering why everyone had more than him and he had so little. His disposition changed as he got older, however. It was at this age that he realized that if he wanted the finer things in life, he would have to reach out and grab them. Over the span of his 20th year of life, he underwent a growth spurt, expanding horizontally and vertically in mass. Rejecting the quiet life of a fishmonger expected of him by his parents, Cnut enlisted in the military, lured by the promises of good pay and the chance to build your own path.

The young man started at the bottom as a grunt and worked his way to the point where he was assigned to a team that conducted special assignments under a commanding officer. The team specialized in covert operations such as tactically breaching enemy territory, spying, and ambushes. Which was when he developed a habit for looting the dead and making money on the side selling the goods. His CO turned a blind eye to his men's dirty work, until their looting moved to living targets who weren't on the military's radar. Before they could be detained and arrested, Cnut and his accomplices evaded capture and fled until they encountered the Gondar Bandit Clan. In need of protection, the former soldiers swore fealty to the clan. Once more, Cnut started from the bottom and worked to rise to the top. This time, his ascent was streamlined by his experience as a soldier. It also help that he knew how to do basic math, a skill other bandits lacked. Eventually a turn of events resulted in the death of the clan's leader at the time and after a brief power struggle between differing factions, Cnut emerged victorious. And his ambitions didn't stop there. Cnut didn't just want to be the leader of bandits, he wanted to be the King of Bandits. And every king needs a throne and subjects to rule over. But there are some within his ranks who see the volatile and overly ambitious Norseman as a liability and therefore an ineffective leader...
 
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Wolf is a massive example of a half elf. Very long, graying brown hair usually twisted into a loose braid frames a chiseled, scarred face. While still relatively young for an elf, even half of one, wrinkles adorn his forehead and the corners of his amber eyes. His powerfully built body towers over all but the tallest humans. Starting from his chest downward, Wolf’s body is tattooed all over, intricate drawings and draconic runes that explain the story of his many exploits, as does the roadmap of scar tissues that covers him everywhere. His clothing, outside his armor, is usually just simple tunics or jerkins. Wolf cares little for fashion or the like, keeping his wardrobe small, casual, and cheap.

Role: The Leader
Name: Wolf Harradin
Race: Half Wood Elf
Age: 56
Height: 6’1”
Weight: 205 lbs

Armor and weaponry: Wolf wears dark steel plated armor signifying his status and prowess as one of the Winterhall province’s finest berserker knights. Starting with nothing more than a studded leather jerkin and a fur cloak, each tasset, pauldron, and gauntlet was earned through honorable melee combat. His pride and his name are written on his outer clothes, in the draconic language, just as his exploits are tattooed into his skin. The plated armor is deceptively well made, light, and designed with mobility in mind, allowing Wolf to move better than one would expect, even completely encased in metal, fur, and leather.

His weapon, outside of his hardened body and talent with the unarmed arts, is his claymore, a dragonbone blade mounted to a black iron hilt, nearly as long as he is tall. A pair of daggers balanced for throwing and a pair of throwing spears complete his selection of weaponry.

Wolf is also not above beating someone with a barstool, or throwing a rock at their head. Honor is great and all, but to survive is to win. And survival is the first edict of the Dragonguard and the Mountaineers.

Personality: Wolf is a knight, loyal to a fault, unwavering in his confidence, strong as a troll, and holds five personal tenets that he keeps to with unwavering discipline. However, he is also a berserker, a man fueled by raw adrenaline and the promise of an always greater test of his skills. He does whatever he feels is right in the moment, and his allies can keep up or get left behind, but he will not hesitate to stop a blade from finding a friend if it is at all within his power, while he’s not battle-drunk.

As his rage builds, the concept of friend-or-foe disappears and his mind narrows into one thought, the thought of crushing whatever is in eyeshot. He shrugs off pain and gets both stronger and faster, destroying his foes with brutal efficiency, for while his conscious thought might start to slip, his muscle memory and disciple are subconscious, and delimiting himself only makes him more threatening to anyone nearby. Wolf can stop his own warpath with time, just as hurricanes take time to stop their destruction. When he’s in the zone, leave him alone, and stick to the pre-made plans, let him do the wildcard work. For your own safety.

Wolf is not necessarily serious, but takes his role very seriously, shouting like a drill sergeant when it’s time to set up camp, tear down camp. He also performs every task in the camp, whether it be cooking, cleaning, chopping firewood, etc., with the same efficiency he slaughters his enemies, usually without the blinding rage. On leave, however, he is an animal, and if he can't be found, try bars, brothels, or legal gambling halls. Wolf is a hard worker, and plays just as hard, depending on what the situation calls for.

Background: Wolf was born and raised in the caverns of The Plateau, and spent his childhood underground, until the age of sixteen when he was selected to become a Mountaineer, one of the rangers of the Winterhall province. He spent a decade doing that, fighting barbarians and mountain orcs before his valor and prowess had him selected for the Dragonguard. For the next twenty years, he earned every plate on his armor piece by piece, performing more and more incredible acts of martial prowess. There are many deeds to his story, but the most prominent three, three stories told even outside of his home province;

For his helm, at the age of twenty-nine, he single-handedly slaughtered a goblin tribe, one that was harassing and ambushing nearby foothills villages and ambushing caravans moving through the mountain pass. For this, he earned the title of Goblinfoe.

During this time, Wolf met a woman. However, after four years together, a plague running rampant through the Plateau took her. Wolf took a two year sabbatical, and traveled aimlessly around the land of Gerhard before finding a monastery and gaining entrance. Wolf spent a year meditating and worshipping Solara with the monks, and even learned their martial arts, although he couldn’t quite master the arts of ki usage. Wolf returned home afterwards and returned to duty, his mind and soul clear after his stay away from the world.

For his pauldrons, at the age of thirty four, Wolf was tasked by Vormund to lead a band of Mountaineers slay a young black dragon that had emerged at the swampland base of the Winterhall mountains. Wolf was successful, after many days of playing a game of cat and mouse, with the roles switching constantly. For this, his old blade was retired, and a claymore of dragonbone was forged for him. For this, he earned the name Dragonslayer.

When he was approaching his forties, the war with Mulhorrin started in full force. Vormund was asked, by the royal family, to send a regiment to join and fight for Gerhard’s cause. Wolf and his regiment were selected, and they fought under the Guardian’s orders for the duration of the extreme, bloody conflict. The war took nearly a decade, and Wolf made even more of a name for himself during the long, bloody conflict. Wolf is directly credited with the conquest of what are now the Silver Shores and Westwood provinces, stripping the land from Mulhorrin, as a living nightmare to the rank and file of the Mulhorrinese army.

During this time, at the age of forty four, he killed the former leader of the Gondar bandits when they were ambushing caravans within the Winterhall province. Their battle lasted hours, and Wolf still keeps the skull in his tent and a single vertebrae on a necklace. For this, Wolf earned his breastplate, and the name Banditsbane.

The war finally came to an end, shortly after Wolf’s fiftieth year, and his regiment was no longer oathbound to serve Gerhard as a whole. So Wolf sent them home with a letter, and pledged his blade to the Guardians, who were glad to keep such a fearsome ally. And for the last five years, Wolf has been part of the clan and their sometimes wild adventures as the clan master-at-arms. And, this time, with the intel on the location of the Gondar Bandit leader, he was chosen to lead a task force into the heart of enemy territory, as the main clan makes haste towards the capital.

Reason: Vormund ordered him to follow the Guardians into war with Mulhorrin, and Wolf was honor bound to obey. He has since been released from his oath, but Wolf has stayed with the Guardians as he feels at home with the mercenary clan. Plus, he seeks true challenge, constant validation of his prowess. And where better as a mostly unbound mercenary?
 
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1000 PCS GOLD REWARD
FOR THE CAPTURE OF
THE RED MISTRESS
ALIAS OF TIFFANY DELMAR
DEAD OR ALIVE
WANTED
FOR MURDER, THIEVERY, TREASON, ESPIONAGE, ASSAULT, ABDUCTION, SMUGGLING, CONSPIRACY, ESCAPE, VANDALISM, WITCHCRAFT,
DESECRATION OF A CORPSE, HERESY, CORRUPTION, AND GENERAL DISTURBANCE OF PEACE AND ORDER.
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AGE: 24 YEARS | GENDER: F
HEIGHT: 5'6"/168cm | BUILD: SLIM
WEIGHT: 140lb/63kg | HAIR: BLACK, LONG
COMPLEXION: OLIVE | NATIONALITY: MULHORRINESE
EYES: BROWN | OCCUPATION: ASSASSIN
MARKS: DIAGONAL SCAR ACROSS RIGHT FACE--ARTIFICIAL "CLEFT LIP",
PERMANENTLY BLACKENED/BURNT FOREARMS AND HANDS,
ASSORTED INJURIES

CLOTHING: RED CLOAK/TROUSERS REINFORCED WITH LEATHER ACCESSORIES/PADDING
WEAPONRY: BLADES, CROSSBOW, DARTS, POISONS, FISTICUFFS (SKILLED IN MANY COMBAT FORMS)
EQUIPMENT: GRAPPLING HOOK, SMOKE BOMBS, POTIONS, ENCHANTED JEWELRY, ETC.

TIFFANY DELMAR IS A KNOWN CRIMINAL ACROSS GERHARDIAN TERRITORY, PRINCIPALLY IN FORMER MULHORRIN, WHO ENGAGES IN MURDEROUS ACTIVITY FOR PAY. SUBJECT MAY ATTEMPT TO TRICK, SEDUCE, OR OTHERWISE MISLEAD PURSUERS. DO NOT UNDERESTIMATE SUBJECT'S SMALL STATURE. SUBJECT HAS ESCAPED CUSTODY SEVERAL TIMES AND HAS KILLED LAWMEN. RECOMMEND INCAPACITATING SUBJECT WITH MAGIC OR OTHERWISE SUBDUING PRIOR TO MAKING DIRECT CONTACT. DELMAR IS ARMED AND HIGHLY DANGEROUS.

DO NOT APPROACH ALONE OR WITHOUT PROTECTION.

DELIVER SUBJECT TO GERHARDIAN MINISTRY OF ENFORCEMENT DEAD OR ALIVE TO CLAIM BOUNTY
TURN OVER FOR FURTHER INFORMATION

TIFFANY DELMAR took her first life at the age of thirteen.
The daughter of refugees from Gerhard's territory expansion, Tiff's family couldn't afford to put her in school.
Instead, she and her siblings worked hard hours in factories, earning a paltry sum in exchange for grievous injuries and exposure to toxic substances.
As her starving family failed to meet the cost of living and her father grew ill, Tiffany sought extra work and found it with her coworkers after hours.
Gradually, Tiffany began bringing home more cash.

One week, it was double her wage. The next, triple.
At first it was a blessing to the Delmars, but eyebrows raised as the teenager ran laps around her whole family's combined salaries.
Eventually, Tiffany's parents searched her belongings and discovered she was trafficking illegal hexes and elixirs.
After a confrontation turned violent, they cast her out onto the streets of Mulhorrin to fend for herself–one less expense.

And why should a factory owner who doesn't lift a finger make twenty times what she makes?
Why should her parents have to lick the boots of men who toss them away like scraps off their gluttonous plates?
Why should she sleep in the gutter when a man born rich sleeps in a manor?
Never again.

While Tiffany's
In exchange for housing, food, safety, and shoes without holes, Tiffany escalated her criminal activity.
She began extorting businesses, sticking up tourists on the wrong side of town, and burglarizing homes.
She proved herself capable of violence when things went sideways, and she was assigned beatings and interrogations.

...



The teenager began dishing out beatings for pay, using her small frame to ambush targets with concealed weaponry.
Battery soon evolved to abduction, then trafficking, then sanctioned hits.
By seventeen, Tiffany had taken as many lives, emerging as a prime enforcer for the mob. Whenever a problem needed to be solved, Tiff was sent.
What she lacked in brawn, she made up for tenfold in brutality. Word of her effectiveness--and ruthlessness--rapidly spread throughout the lands.
...
Tiffany earned a reputation as a young but capable contractor who would do anything for pay, and demand for her services spread outside of the syndicate.
Valuable--and deadly--enough to be in a position to bargain with the bosses, she agreed to remain on call for special business and parted ways on good terms.
With ten years of experience in her pocket, she started her career as a freelance wetworker;
an instrument of death to the highest bidder, loyal to none but herself and the man on the coin.
...
Now a proficient and renowned killer, Tiffany has remained a stable figure in the Gerhardian underground for decades, outliving nearly all of her former colleagues.
WANTED posters for a mysterious assassin in red can be found in any given town or city, dotting bulletins and Sheriff's offices.
The Red Mistress is a name spoken in taverns and low-down dens across Gerhard, under hushed breath and darting eyes.
Rumors claim she's a gorgeous-but-crazed black widow who sleeps with the men she kills, as revenge for a long-broken heart.
Others say she's class hero, killing and stealing from the rich in a noble crusade against inequality.
Some think she's just legend, made up to sell newspapers and promote the Law.
In all the stories, however, one thing remains constant:
"You never see her," they always say, "just the red mist she leaves behind."​


 
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Role: The Mage
Name: Caelum Brightspark
Age: 32
Height: 5'11"
Weight: 130 lbs.

Armor and weaponry:
Robes of the Arcanarican - A set of robes imbued with magic runes, which protect the wearer and half the damage from elemental damage such as cold, fire, lightning, acid, and force. It does not protect from physical damage. Damage taken by the robes is then channeled into the wearer's next damaging spell.
Padded leather armor - Unlike many other mages, Caelum wears a set of leather armor among his robes, to help lessen the blow of physical damage, mostly bludgeoning. Piercing and slashing is still very effective.
Spell book - A leather bound, pocket-sized notebook filled cover to cover with arcane runes, scripts, and diagrams. In the right hands, it becomes a spellcasting focus, negating the need for physical components in spells.
Leather boots of Climbing - A set of boots magically enchanted to allow the wearer to climb on any surface as if they were walking on it, provided said surface can support their weight. Commonly used for walls and ceilings, will not work on water or flimsy wall materials, such as cloth tents.
Midnight dagger - A non-magical dagger with a fancy name, this small blade serves as a backup weapon when magic fails.

Personalty: Caelum is, above all, a curious individual. He frequently goes out of his way to find new and obscure information, regardless of what it's about. He finds thrill in cracking open a new book, and is right at home in a library. But that's not to say he's a nerdy pushover. Caelum can have a bit of a temper, especially when it comes to people insulting his intelligence, and is more than capable of producing destructive spells to back up his anger. But it's not that hard to calm him down, either - simply offer a few words of praise and watch is ego inflate enough to squash his anger.

Background: From a young age, Caelum showed an aptitude for learning. Born into a wealthy family that could afford him a private tutor, there didn't seem to be a single subject that Caelum didn't take to like a duck to water. He excelled at many subjects. His only downfall was his lack of muscle and his underdeveloped social skills, as his intellect and his family's wealth often isolated him from his peers. That was fine with him - Caelum would rather spend his time with his nose in a book than running around outside with the other kids his age.

As a teen, Caelum was finally allowed to learn and practice magic, a subject his tutors assumed would be something he'd finally struggle with due to its complexities. Despite this, Caelum showed to be something of a prodigy when it came to magic. It was only a matter of time before he was drawing up arcane circles, practicing incantations, and performing rituals with ease. His curiosity knew no bounds, and soon he began to experiment beyond what the books taught - what happened if he used this component in place of the other? What if he altered his pronunciation just a tad? His experiments created explosive results, and it wasn't long before the King and the Guardians had heard of the teen's accomplishments. Offered a position with the Guardians in exchange for unrestricted access to all kinds of learning material and spell components, Caelum readily accepted.

Five years prior to present day, Caelum was given an apprentice - a girl named Ashlia with innate magic power she could barely control. As much as Caelum taught her how to control and channel her magic, he also sought to study her, to an extent. His own magic power came from his knowledge and the books he read, whereas hers came seemingly from her force of will alone. It was fascinating and perplexing at the same time. After five years of study and teaching, he finally agreed that she was ready to join as a full Guardian.

Reason: Caelum was offered unrestricted access to every book and scroll in the kingdom, even those deemed "forbidden".
 
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Role: The Noble
Name: James Wallace Beramman
Age: 21
Height: 6’0’’
Weight: 188#
Race: Human

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Appearance: James is tall and of medium build, with strong and well-defined muscles. He has handsome, youthful facial features and long dark hair down to his shoulders.

Armour and Weaponry: Storm Sabre, dagger, and crossbow. Breastplate, helmet and greaves. Magic cloak and magic wand.
James is also especially talented with lance, spear, halberd, hatchet, and other one-handed swords.
Spells: James is a capable spellcaster, especially elemental spells and those that enhance the physical capabilities of himself and others. However, his spellcasting pales in comparison to the other magic-using Guardians. In addition, he wields the Storm Sabre, which can channel a bolt of lightning accompanied by a mighty thunderclap and gale of wind. However, it takes many days to recharge the sword after doing so.
Skills: Aside from combat and magic, James is also good at singing, drinking, and handling and caring for dogs and horses.

Personality: James is a sociable and outgoing person, who approaches the challenges the Guardians face with enthusiasm and confidence (possibly too much confidence). However, he lacks discipline and sometimes chafes against the demands of their lifestyle. Since his time with the Guardians, he has come to believe strongly in honour and righteousness and tries to live up to these ideals, with mixed success. He loves a good time, and is optimistic even when his luck is down.
Alignment: Neutral Good

Background: From a young age, James Wallace Beramman demonstrated great talent at fencing, hunting, riding, and even magic - all skills befitting a young nobleman. His parents, the Duke and Duchess of Beramman, saw this (when their attention was not on ruling their lands, parleying with the king, or raising James’ five older siblings) and tried to cultivate these skills by hiring great tutors from across the nation for their children. Despite this, James instead found himself drawn to a life of carousing, partying, and generally wasting his potential, confident that he would never be called on to do anything important with his life.
When his roguish and undisciplined behaviour grew too much for the family to bear, a loyal knight of theirs suggested they send James to the Guardians. After six months of rigorous training, he was enrolled and accepted in their ranks. Despite his initial apprehension, he has found it to be a great adventure so far, fighting for justice alongside his new friends.

Motivation: In exchange for 20 years of service to the Guardians, James was promised a small barony of his own upon his retirement. In addition, offering his service has earned his family influence and connections to the crown.
 
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Role: The Lich
Name: Klaeio
Age: Exact age is unknown, at least several centuries
Height: 5' 9''
Weight: 150 lbs

Appearance: At this point, Klaeio is essentially a walking corpse, they've kept themselves alive with magic for so long. Their skin is unnaturally pale, almost gray, and their body is covered with wounds that have never fully healed, or have been haphazardly stitched back together. Klaeio has extremely long hair, that's mainly black with some streaks of unnaturally bright white, and always hangs loose. Their eyes are solid black, and their skin is freezing to the touch. Overall, they appear quite frightening to anyone they encounter.

Armor and weaponry: Pure black robes. Fights with magic, but can also use a dagger in a pinch.

Personalty:

To begin with, Klaeio is absolutely insane, as a result of their unnaturally long lifespan and general traumatic experiences, like betrayals and such. Typically, their insanity manifests as them behaving erratically - whether it be through magic usage, or interactions with others. Sometimes, they will see or hear things that aren't really there. While Klaeio's erratic nature can be noticed fairly easily, it's starkly obvious in their anger. They will lash out at people over the smallest of things, sometimes not even something they actually did, or becuase of a logical reason. Sometimes, Klaeio will lash out at the voices they hear - which can be quite disturbing for those around them.

For their general nature, Klaeio is rather cold and harsh, all the time. Over the years, they have forced themselves over the years to get rid of any shreds of emotion that might have been remaining, and have perfected the art of not feeling any emotions - or at least, burying those emotions far, far away. This attitude is generally unnerving to those around them, and is part of what makes people so afraid of them (in addition to the obvious fact that they're a Lich). In addition to this, Klaeio is extremely manipulative of those around them. Their long lifespan has allowed them to become rather skilled at figuring out other people's desires. Klaeio will then use this knowledge to manipulate and turn other people into their pawns, along with exploiting people's natural fear of them. They have long stopped caring about how their manipulations will affect those targeted.

Background:

Klaeio was born in a small village in the countryside, where magic was unheard of and feared by everyone. They had a few peaceful years with their parents, but one fateful day, their village was attacked, and their parents were killed. Klaeio was cornered by one of the attackers, but was able to escape by reanimating a corpse nearby and making it defend them. That was when Klaeio discovered their talents regarding necromancy. After that experience, Klaeio began travelling around the countryside, stopping in many villages but never staying for long. People eventually discovered their talents, kicked them out, and word began to spread. No one trusted Klaeio, despite their efforts to prove they wouldn't do anyone harm.

As a young adult, Klaeio finally found a small group of people they thought they could call friends. Out of fear they would lose their new companions, they kept their abilities a secret. But Klaeio couldn't resist practicing in secret - and one day, their new "friends" found out. They turned their back on Klaeio like all the others did, and reported them to the local guards. Too surprised and overwhelmed by the betrayal, the guards were able to surprise Klaeio and capture them, imprisoning in the nearby city's jail. That was the moment Klaeio realized that no matter how hard they tried, no one would ever understand them - they would just be afraid of their necromancy. So Klaeio decided to embrace the darkness everyone saw in them. They waited a bit, in order to catch the guards unaware, then broke out of the jail using reanimated corpses and killing several guards in the process.

From there, Klaeio went on the run, escaping and killing everyone who came after them. They made it to the wilds, and eventually came across a more advanced Lich, who they learned from. It was there where Klaeio learned to truly hone their powers, making them into an extremely dangerous and powerful necromancer. Once they had learned everything they could, Klaeio killed the older Lich and took over their hideout. Over the years, Klaeio began to terrorize villages with undead creatures, working their way up to a formidable necromancer that was known throughout the kingdom. As Klaeio began to get old, and approach their death, they extended their life with their necromancy, turning them into a walking corpse - and officially becoming a Lich.

Klaeio's mission to terrorize villages, and later cities, was rooted in their anger at everyone for casting them out when they were a child. Over the years, and as Klaeio grew more insane, this morphed into a twisted desire to "liberate" the kingdom from the minds and people who feared magic, and placed restrictions. In Klaeio's twisted mind, the ideal world would be a place where mages could roam free - under their leadership. As a part of this sort of "ethos", Klaeio would occasionally take in young, impressionable mages from the places they attacked and take them under their wing. They would train them in their powers and help them become more skilled, all while manipulating and molding them to suit their cause. None ever stuck with Klaeio long - either because Klaeio disposed of them because they didn't fit their ideals, or they chose to left (and then were killed).

In more recent years, Klaeio took in the young Arcanist that would eventually end with the Guardians, on the hero's side. Klaeio never thought much of the girl, but they're incredibly insulted that the Arcanist would choose to side with the Guardians, of all groups. More notably, Klaeio joined with The Hand of Nocturne and played an important role in the assassination of the king, and remains with the group for the time being.

Reason: N/A
 
Role: Warlock
Name: Adol Silvermane
Hell’s Dealer
Age: 31
Race: asimar
Height: 5’8
Weight:210

Armor and weaponry
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Armor: Mainly wearing things that give him freedom of movement, but also give him protection to do things that match his fighting style. Some pieces of his armor are enchanted and others just do their job. He has his lower, half armored. One of his arms is half covered while the other one is fully armed. Sporting a simple chest plate, and some magical robes.


Weaponry: He boasts an impressive arsenal of long swords and glaives, each one gleaming with potential. as well as being skilled in hand-to-hand combat, However, there are moments when some of these weapons fall short, unable to match the sheer power and finesse of his hexes and spells.

Pacts and Patrons

Personality: People say that Adol is generally a relaxed guy who has a couple of issues. But he will try to be friendly to the best of his ability. He doesn’t seem to warm up to people but if he does you have a who might just have your back and a fight or something else. At least someone who won’t immediately kill you without having a conversation and offering a drink first.


Background:
Adol was born into the renowned Silvermane family, a lineage of knights known for the trolls to the lands. His life took a fascinating turn when his knight father fell head over heels for a daring witch adventurer, weaving a tale of love that brought him into the world. His mother possessed a rare and enchanting magic, her most captivating trait being her mesmerizing eyes, which he could cleverly conceal with a simple veil.

Amidst the rigid training of his knightly family, Adol's burgeoning magical abilities raised eyebrows and sparked tension. Yet, beneath the strict discipline lay a wellspring of love and support from his family. Even if he was a bit of a headache to some of them at times.

One day, a thrilling announcement rocked her world—he was going to have a little sister! This news ignited a fierce determination within Adol. He vowed to hone his skills, both in combat and magic, setting his sights on always staying one step ahead of his future sibling. He envisioned a life where his brother would always look up to him, as he forged her unique path in a realm where strength and magic intertwine.

On a seemingly ordinary day, he and his family prepare to set off on a pivotal journey, believing it to be just another job request. Yet, lurking in the shadows is a cunning plot hatched by a rival noble family, determined to seize power in the kingdom. As the family travels, they are unaware that the path ahead is fraught with twists and revelations that could shatter everything they thought they knew. What awaits them could change the very course of the lands forever.

Afterward, he began to explore ancient texts and grim tomes, seeking knowledge about the forgotten powers that existed beyond this world. With each discovery, he felt the weight of his family's legacy pressing upon him, urging him to take action. He traveled to dark markets and shadowy taverns, where whispers of arcane beings could lead him to the means of his revenge. He forged alliances with unexpected allies, sometimes turning to otherworldly entities, trading favors and promises in exchange for their dark gifts. His determination to settle the score consumed him, transforming him into a man unafraid to walk the thin line between light and darkness. He knew that in his quest, he would stop at nothing to reclaim what was lost and avenge those who had wronged the Silvermane name. After all, he was the last one.

Tails drift through the air, weaving tales of a figure entwined with the infamous Hand of Nocturne, a being who haunts the crumbling ruins and forsaken tombs of ages past. Like a wraith that flickers between the shadows, he lures the curious and the reckless into his treacherous web. Whispers echo in the darkness, hinting at pacts forged in secrecy with those daring enough to seek him, agreements that twist the boundaries of reality into something grotesque and unnerving. What drives this enigmatic entity? A quest for five otherworldly tomes said to hold secrets potent enough to reshape the very essence of existence. For anyone brave enough to tread these shadowy paths, prepare for an encounter that could unveil unimaginable power—or unearth the terrors lurking within your deepest fears.
 
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Karkiv

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Standing at 6'10" and 220lbs with strong muscular limbs, Karkiv has a bad case of RBF and very draconic features. Sporting sharp claws and skin covered in dull, yellow-brown metallic scales. He has two sets of somewhat golden horns, fiery red eyes, and a tail with a spaded tip. Scars litter his body, but most are covered by his sandy colored robes and armor. He also has a golden nose ring.


Role: Archer
Age: 185
Armor and weaponry: Bow and arrows, and a hunting knife


Personality
Karkiv is very closed off, but has a very soft and caring side. Always sports a resting bitch face and often looks like he's in a bad mood, but 90% of time time he's fine. He's very protective of those who have earned his trust and rather self sacrificial for them if he cares enough. He never speaks on what he is or what his real name is, so people often speculate that he is a brass dragonborn, but people can't be sure.

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Background
Karkiv used to be known as Koldrox, a prideful and powerful golden half-dragon. He had magnificent wings and used to look down on those who did not share draconic blood. He was raised by his elven father, but his father worshiped dragons and held Koldrox on a pedistal. He taught him archery and how to hunt, something Koldrox excelled in. As he grew into adulthood, Koldrox was so prideful he hardly cared for anyone except himself. An anti-dragon cult that he had never heard of managed to capture and kidnap him. Instead of killing him, they tortured him and ripped off his wings, dumping him in the middle of the desert. With his pride broken, he wandered into the oasis village and slowly built up a hunting and butchering career using his archery skills to his advantage. Feeling ashamed of being broken down to such a low level, He renamed himself to Karkiv and stopped taking care of himself, feeling unworthy of the draconic name and scales he bore. He met a young tabaxi that lived in this village who seemed to have a fascination with him, instead of fearing him like the others did. As the tabaxi with no name grew, he began calling the child Little Mau from the small noises they would make at him. When they came of age, the tabaxi chose to learn archery under him, and adopted the name Mau after his nickname for them. The two became like father and son with Karkiv teaching them everything he knew. They gave him newfound purpose, and he began to hold himself in a much higher regard.

Reason for Being Recruited
A festival of sorts was being held in the major city nearby, and his apprentice, Mau, wanted to attend. The two went together to the city and partook in many events, but the one they particularly stood out in was the archery tournament. Karkiv swept the competition, easily taking first place. Impressed by his skills and noting how he cared for Mau, the Guardians offered him a place among their ranks. At first, Karkiv was hesitant, but he decided to take on the offer to make up for how he acted in his youth. Mau could take care of themselves and the village, and Karkiv would be sure to visit whenever he got the chance.

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Thaddeus the Fallen
Oathbreaker Paladin
Thaddeus is a human male of robust health who stands six-and-a-half feet tall, decked in high-quality armor, which makes him an extremely imposing figure. His grizzled face is hidden behind a plated helmet that removes any humanity or compassion that would betray him in any given situation. His broad shoulders are like an insurmountable wall that precious few can hope to overcome. His armor, once pristine silver, has been tinted dark grey, almost blackened by years of warped morality, murder, and violence—the shadow of a once-good man. He wields a Zweihänder greatsword with great proficiency. The blade has been dulled and sharpened many times. It's the one thing he refuses to part ways with, regarding it as his only true companion that never failed or betrayed him.
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Thaddeus the Brave was once a renowned hero whose oath was to the Crown. He proudly served a king and carried out every duty asked of him. Bodyguarding here, slaying monsters there, and eventually executing traitors to the throne. Little did Thaddeus realize that the "traitors" he'd been executing were, in fact, supporters of the rightful heir to the throne he protected. His final execution was the very prince who was destined to rule before his father was assassinated. The current king whom Thaddeus served was a fraudulent usurper, a treacherous advisor to the former king he had murdered before taking over his land. Broken by the knowledge that his service was to a traitor, Thaddeus killed his lord, thereby breaking his oath and earning him the title of Oathbreaker. Having murdered the true heir to the throne, as well as the usurper, Thaddeus was left alone in a city that now reviled him as a traitor to the throne and a traitor to his people. Thaddeus the Brave was no more. He christened himself Thaddeus the Fallen and now wanders alone, broken by his misdeeds and unwilling to forgive himself.

Thaddeus was recruited by The Hand for his battle expertise, as well as brute strength. One shouldn't be fooled, however. Just because he defaults to brute force in combat doesn't mean he's an oaf or lacks technique. He's very skilled with his Zweihänder, enough to match blows with master swordsmen. His high constitution and prestigious armor make him an immovable object when he hunkers down. If a place needs guarding or there's a foe that needs smiting, Thaddeus can fulfill those roles and then some.

He's still plagued with guilt over serving a tyrannical usurper. He's since allowed his face to fade from memory, only known by his armor and weapon of choice. Upon becoming an Oathbreaker, his already formidable physicality was further amplified, making him incredibly strong and dangerous in combat. But that's all he sees himself as--a murdering brute who has no place in a realm of peace. He gave up the right to such things after killing the prince he would have protected had his father not been assassinated.
 
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