Setsuko_

MC Name:

         Setsuko_

Character's Name:

         Edward Thuri-Elendil

Character's Age:

         52

Character's Race:

         Adunian

What magic(s) will you be learning?

         Templarism

Teacher's MC Name:

         DrHope

Teacher's RP Name:

         John

Do you have a magic(s) you are dropping due to this app? If so, link it:

         No

Do you agree to keep Story updated on the status of your magic app?:

         Yes

Are you aware that if this magic is shelved, that you may no longer use it in character?

         Yes

Edward Thuri-Elendil reads the letter as he rises from his morning prayer. The adunian offers no words of wisdom, no comments of respite. His olive eyes, ever retaining that surgical gaze, only studies the words given. With lips pursed into a frown of concentration he sets the paper down, raising the heavy wooden training sword. The future upon his thoughts he begins his training for the day, mind alight with possibilities. 

Edward (Cillian) is teaching his cousin

Edward Thuri-Elendil blinks as he reads the missive before looking to his wardrobe. “Bloody good thing I own the old uniforms then.“

His gaze swivels to the Adunic Navy, floating proudly at harbor. “… and moved my ships“

MC Name:

         Setsuko_

Character's Name:

         Blain Thuri-Elendil

Character's Age:

         17

Character's Race:

         Adunian

What magic(s) will you be learning?

         Fire Evocation

Teacher's MC Name:

         jameson_h

Teacher's RP Name:

         Ricky O'Rourke

Do you have a magic(s) you are dropping due to this app? If so, link it:

         None

Do you agree to keep Story updated on the status of your magic app?:

         I do

Are you aware that if this magic is shelved, that you may no longer use it in character?

         I am

The cannons resounded oncemore through the village, their boom echoing through the Hinterlands. Blanks fired in the air, the cannons adorned with a crest the man had not seen for such a long time, that of Halstaig. The teams reloaded, preparing for the final volley. Edward Thuri-Elendil stood, his eyes scanning the ocean before him. Had it always looked so... ominous?

His head turned to look over the battery crews of Cartref Mor, who all seemed to look to him. "I'm sorry" the man says under his breath, hoping, somehow, that his last apology would meet it's recipient. He gave a melancholy nod, the call for fire coming forth. 

As the cannons at the hill top gave one last roar, a final call to the departed, the man was left standing, hands clasped together behind his back. His jaw clenched as he continued looking out. For once, the hardened sailor found no comfort at the sea.

OOC

    ((MC Name: Setsuko_ ))

    ((Discord: Setsuko#3733))

    ((Timezone: EST))

    IN-CHARACTER

    What is your name?
Blain Yuno Thuri-Elendil

    Why seek membership to the Mages Guild?

To further my understanding in the Arcane, and to serve my people with pride, respect and knowledge.

    What arts, if any, do you currently practice?

None yet

    What position do you desire to attain upon acceptance?

Practicus

    When should you be contacted for an interview?

Whenever

Edward squints at the flier, as if believing he misread. "He honor dueled someone, and took his ear?" He folds the missive, giving a wince. "Not much honor to it."

Man actually just kicked a hive of stinger-less bees, huh?

LOTC is just a GTA freeroam lobby nowadays, and you can't tell me different

36 minutes ago, critter said:

 

At your service! Upper right quadrant is my favorite; the rest are largely practice in perspectives, as I dig his distinctive beard cut/nose bump, there. Happy to revise at request.

 

Also, a debrief on gender expression for future reference, at your discretion!

  Reveal hidden contents

You basically got it in one. It's a more PC term to refer to how someone presents themself, regardless of actual sex/gender identity: if Edward here happened to prefer dresses and giggling with the tavern gals, can't say these would've really captured his vibe!

 

This is awesome! Bless your soul lol, and thank you for clarifying!

You know me, I'd kill for character art lmao
I did organize them into a doc because it's easier
https://docs.google.com/document/d/1p_95gMJ-mEGyrMXWvgUoMGFIFvTVQ-MkdPu-AcRb87g/edit?usp=sharing

Age: 43 I think (though he's adunian so he doesn't look a day past 27)
Personality: Usually stern and commanding, especially once he dawns his armor, devoted to what he believes in, get's flustered easy when someone acts motherly to him, a field tactician with the fatal flaw of abandoning reason and logic once injured in favor of shock violence
Gender Expression: no idea what this means, tbh. He's a very stereotypical strong guy type, save for when flustered, then he just acts annoyed

From his post, guarding The Tower, Edward Thuri-Elendil watched the night's surroundings with his ever vigilant eyes. The aurum bardiche hung loosely in his grasp, the polearm resting in the grass on it's other end. A courier begins to step up the path leading to the tower with a hastened step, bounding two at a time. Edward stands, too tired and injured from the Crackadonk fight mere hours before to even tighten his grip upon the polearm, watches with an idle gaze. At last the man approaches, offering a letter to Edward himself. It bore the crest of House O'Rourke, his birth home. He gives a small sigh, taking the missive and giving a tired nod of approval. He opens the letter, flexing his broken right hand gingerly. As he reads, all that escapes him as his eyes drift over the words is a small pained sigh. Though the man had left that life behind him after finding himself alone, he still felt a sadness at the loss. "Boed iddo orffwys yn dda" he says to nobody, being the only standing guard. He says a prayer to the ancestors of the O'Rourke and Elendil line, asking for them to receive their newest ancestor with pride. He takes a mental note as he looks out into the night once more, a saddened gaze upon him.

From the edge of the group, a heavily armored Adunian man stood, watching with keen olive eyes. Edward frowns as he glances to the map, studying it quietly. Finally his voice came from the back, quiet yet stern. "How many do you think've been taken so far?"

MC Name:

         Setsuko_

Character's Name:

         'Edward Tyle'

Character's Age:

         42

Character's Race:

         Adunian

Link to your accepted MA:

        https://www.lordofthecraft.net/forums/topic/203162-alchemy-fa-setsuko_/?tab=comments#comment-1850506

What magic(s) will you be teaching?

         Alchemy

Describe this magic or a creature as a whole:

Alchemy is the understanding of the material alphabet, the physical world around you, and the signs and symbols upon things to bring to creation potions, salves and other such mixtures. This process of creating wonderous things from mundane items begins with the identification and harvesting of regeants, based upon the signs and symbols they have. This is done through minor roleplay and/or mechanical noded and ST approved items, or by other means listed in the lore (such as redstone or blood). Signs all have a separate way of extraction from their regeants, usually relating to the elemental nature they hold. Once these regeants have been collected, they can be mixed according to set methods and/or recipes to create items of various uses and natures. Alchemists inherently have different levels of mastery of their abilty to alter the world around them and the things they can create. New practicioners (the first two OOC weeks) cannot identify regeants themselves, and require a heavy guidance as they begin to learn the functionality and practicality of their art as they learn to identify signs and symbols as well as learn the material alphabet. The novice alchemist is limited to one potion a day, and finds that they often cannot do this alone. After this, the now practiced alchemist (weeks 3-8 oocly) becomes more independant and self reliant as they ease into their craft, capable of identifying regeants on their own as well as utilizing more complex and powerful recipes as they find themselves able to craft two potions a day. From this time onwards, an alchemist is now a master of their craft, their abilities coming as a second nature to them as they can craft up to three items a day, and find that their understandings of the material alphabet fluent and their ability to identify signs and symbols to bear little to no effort. 

Are there different sections or subsections of magic? Can those be elaborated upon?

There are many sub-sects of alchemy, ranging from darker arts to more craft-heavy practices. I myself only bear a single ritual, so my OOC and IC knowledge is limited to the basics and this single ritual. Most of these further alchemic studies leans into other related lores/magics or occult occupations. This can be anything from an enhanced smithing method to literal deamonic works. 

Can you give an example of a casting emote, of a spell of your choice?

In place of casting, I will produce one extraction emote and one mixing emote (I do them in smaller blocks but for the sake of the application I will condense the mixing into a single emote).

Extraction (Coldness)

Edward leans upon the counter a moment, sliding to him the plate on which the blissfoil plant and the mortar and pestle rested. His gaze flickered about as he brought a kitchen knife to the plant, beginning to chop it akin to how a chef would chop lettuce. As he worked he began to whistle a quiet shanty, careful not to disturb any sleeping in the tower above him. Once he was sure the plant was finely cut one way, he pivoted the whole plate so he could cut the opposite, working with well versed methodical motions, bracing his other palm upon the back of the blade as he chopped, rolling the blade on and off the plant. Once he was sure it had been properly shredded, even taking a pinch in between his gloved index and thumb to double check, he uses the knife to scoop the plant matter into the mortar. Bringing the pestle up, he begins working at the shredded blissfoil with rhythmic movements, putting his weight onto the tool at times as he grinds it down as fine as he can get it. He reaches for the pitcher of Aqua Vitae upon the table, pouring some into the bowl resting upon the lit stove before double checking his ground mixture and pouring it into the aqua vitae as it begins to boil. Edward then leans back upon the opposite counter, slipping from it's surface a book to study while he waits for the boggy concoction to boil. After a few minutes, as he was getting to the good part of the story, he hears the ever so familiar sound of hissing, indicating the aqua vitae had been boiled away. He quickly slides the pot off the stovetop and awaiting it to cool. Once it was cool enough to touch for a prolonged time, he lifts the pot as he produces a single vial, pouring the remaining powder in softly before setting the pot down and corking the vial. He then produces the pencil from behind his ear, writing 'Coldness' upon the label before setting it into his satchel, smiling.

Mixing: Dragon's Ice Breath

Edward begins by pouring a count of liquid essence into his mixing pot, his hands working based upon muscle memory alone as he reaches for his mixing spoon with the other hand. He reaches over to the bag of vials beside the bowl and produces from it two vials, both labeled 'Growth'. He uncorks one with a thumb, bringing it to the bowl to pour in swiftly yet gently before replicating the motion with the other, depositing the empty vials in an empty bowl for collecting on the other end of the counter. As he stirs these into the mix he reaches forth, slipping three more from his satchel. Each of these vials bore the label 'Coldness', and gave off a small mist as he uncorked them and poured each in, stirring idly all the while. He glances into the bowl for a moment as he reaches for the next batch, each separated into separate pouches within the bag. Bringing out three more vials, he double checks that each was labeled 'Endurance'. He gives a nod, his lips pursing in concentration as he uncorks each and pours them in, the symbols slipping into the mixture as he stirred onwards. He gives a sigh as he grabs the last two groups of vials, two of 'Connection' and two of 'Swiftness', uncorking and pouring in two at a time. The mixture bubbles slightly as he finishes his stirring, now giving off a faint cold mist. He reaches to the edge of the counter where a collection of flasks sat, taking one. He slips a woolen sleeve over the glass, ensuring it be snug before bringing it to the mixing bowl, beginning to pour the mix in with a steady albeit slow hand. He holds his breath as he does so, careful not to waste so much as a drop. He only releases this breath once it all had made it's way into the glass, of which he quickly corked and sat aside, as if he were afraid it'd shatter in his grasp.

Can you give an example of a teaching-emote (interacting with another) of a spell of your choice?

Edward looks to Vesryn, giving a small nod as the student enters the room. "Did you bring the symbols you made?" he asks as he slides out the mortar and pestle, motioning for him to approach the counter. Upon Vesryn's idle nod, he gave a small sidestep to allow the student access. As Vesryn approaches the counter, he deposits his own small bag. Edward glances between student and bag. "If you reviewed the notes, we'll be making a Flash Potion. Can you tell me what it does?" Vesryn seemed to look down in thought a moment before finally speaking. "Works as a distraction, causing a mildly blinding flash when thrown" the man responds confidently, to which Edward nods his acknowledgement of. He motions to the mortar, leaning a hip upon the counter. "What's first, master alchemist?" he asks, a playful hint to his voice. Vesryn looks into his bag, producing from it a single vial. The label is in a different language, the language of Adunians. Edward's eyes lay upon it a moment before giving a nod, quickly translating it to 'Chaos'. "Base?" he asks idly, crossing his arms. Vesryn, having already uncorked the vial and begun pouring, looks up quickly, a mild look of panic to his face a moment before it settles. "There isn't one" he says, coming out almost like a question rather than a statement. Edward smiles, nodding before motioning to the bag as if to ask what was next. Vesryn, setting the vial aside, produces another, bearing the label of 'Light', to which Edward gives an approving nod before looking down in wait while it is poured in. Vesryn then looks to Edward for instruction. Edward motions to a small bowl beside the mortar. "Take the two counts of Light we made with the Nightglow, and mix 'em into the water" he orders, not wanting to lift a finger but rather force the student to do it themselves. Vesryn gives a nod, as if miraculously remembering after being told. He does so with a surprisingly swift hand before looking over as if to check if Edward was still watching. Edward simply dips his head, knowing the man knew what was next. Vesryn lets the powder soak upon the new liquid as he searches his satchel, cursing under his breath. Whilst his attention was to the bag, Edward held up a small bottle, custom made for their Flash Powders. Vesryn finally looks up, taking it with a sheepish grin before beginning to pour the powder into the small bottle. "Next time, you can add any dye you want, if you wish to color the flash" Edward states idly, watching the powder be poured carefully before Vesryn corks the bottle off, giving an accomplished smile. 

 

Say your student powergames during or after teaching, how do you reprimand that?

Well, I would either meet in game, in DMs or in VC with them to discuss it. It can be understandable, especially if a redline is forgotten on the fly. No one is perfect, and I cannot claim to be either. We would go over the mistake and how it was made, as well as what can be done to avoid such in the future. Depending on how the student learns, because yes real life learning skills can be used, we would reinforce the knowledge, be it repetitive teaching or practical usage or etc.

Do you have a magic(s) you are dropping due to this app? If so, link it:

         No

Do you agree to keep the ST updated on the status of your magic app?:

         Yes

Have you applied to teach this magic on this character before, and had it denied? If so, link the app.

         No

A spot covered man, clad in dented and damaged plate, sat beside his fellow Rangers. All around, they bore the signs of their conflict, soot and ash stained their faces and clothes, his comrades in armor bore the same dents and scratches. Cillian bowed his head for a moment, wiping away the blood that had continued to run from his nose with a cloth. Beside him, another flexed their Animii hand absently, looking on as the others spoke. The man handed over a water flask, to which Cillian gratefully accepted. As he took a swig, he felt his scorched throat both scream in protest and cry in relief. He handed it back as his gaze rose to the group, forcing himself to stand despite the exhaustion and damage his body had sustained. He moved to stand beside a blindfolded ranger, crossing his arms as he listened to the conversation, his friend moving to stand upon the blindfolded ranger’s other side. 
 

With a glance over the Rangers, Cillian couldn’t help but feel a tinge of pride snake up his back. Despite everything, each member still stood. Proud, strong, alive.

From his cabin, as he brought in firewood for the night's fire, Cillian O'Rourke read the missive left on his porch, giving a soft sigh. Though not Orenian any further, he still stood straight, giving one last salute for a Captain he had served under. From the other side of the room, a small blonde boy seemed to watch his father curiously, unaware of the salute's meaning as his little legs swung off the side of the chair.

Cillian O'Rourke's jaw drops as he reads the missive. He looks up to his empty office, an excited smile upon his face.

As he entered his study, Cillian O'Rourke was met by a courier boy, holding a missive. He frowns softly, his hands currently occupied as he used a towel to wipe them clean of the blood that dirtied them, the front of his vest equally caked in the substance. "Read it aloud for me lad" he says in his ever soft tone as he stepped to his desk, dropping the dirty towel upon the edge to retrieve a chalice and the bottle of watered down wine that rested upon the dark oaken desk. As he uncorked and poured the wine, the boy read the missive aloud.

"It seems, Ser, that the Sedanians are upset" the boy comments as he finishes the missive, his tone laced with worry.

Cillian, who'd sat by this point and began to rummage through his papers, did not bother raising his eyes from the document he currently gazed upon. "And?"

Upon met with silence, the man looked up to the boy, who wore a puzzled expression before quickly shaking his head, dismissing his own words. Cillian just gave the boy a simple nod, excusing him as he sat a few coins on the edge of the desk for him. "Keep me updated if anyone of importance has anything to say."

The boy gave a quick nod, collected the coins and vanished through the door, leaving the surgeon and lawmaker to sip his wine and work in peace, relaxed as ever.

Username: Setsuko 
RP Name: James Sentinel
Address: Raven Hall
Vote: Eliza Raven-Sentinel

From off in the distance, a Familiar Blonde Man watches, a shawl over his aged suit. His hair turning grey and his good eye alight with a knowledge gained with age. He watches the merriment with a smile upon his now wrinkled face before stepping away, heading back down the road. "You all did wonderful. Thank you" comes a raspy voice, to no one but himself as he once more covers his face and makes for the desert. This would be the last anyone sees of the man, and the last the man would see of his beloved Rhein.

Cillian O'Rourke idly tends to his wounds in the clinic, eying the missive numbly. "No mention of a bleeding hostage on the road, or the fact that the MoJ actively made the situation worse? And who will pay for the damages to the hospital?" His words fell to no ears as he sat alone, his clinic in ruins and glass covering the floor. He thought for a moment to where he had been helpless as the MoJ advanced, disregarding Cillian's life to instead apprehend Anton to get some fleeting fame and reputation. As one of the clinic maid stepped in, bringing with her clean bedsheets, she stopped as she spotted the bleeding surgeon. He let out a sigh. "No treatment to any in uniform whist I am attending." His orders were brisk and subtle, but the maid seemed to pale slightly before nodding quick and stepping back out the door, leaving the sheets stacked on the counter.