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Bom Tombadil Physical Description: He is too tall for a halfling, yet to small for a man, and thick and sturdy are his hands. His coat is blue, his boots are yellow, his hat is brown with a big bright feather. He wears a belt buckle of golden brass, and has a beard long and thick as grass. Mannerisms: He hunches over with a cane like he is old, yet talks fast and proud like he is young. He often breaks out into a sing-song sort of speach in the middle of a conversation, which others find quite annoying and childish, and he is rarely on time for anything at all, always preferring to be at least a few hours late. He has few acquaintances, and even fewer friends, and it is rare to see him emerge from his little hide-y hole in Old Dunshire Forest. He keeps to himself most of the time, reading any books he can get his hands on, and spends most of his time outside his home watering and caring for local plants and fungi. Other than that, there is little of interest about this character. Equipment: Bom Tombadil rarely carries anything threatening. The only weapons he ever carries are basic gardening tools that he uses to defend himself if threatened. As for other items, Bom usually has a few random oddities in his pockets, be it grass, hay, dandelions, the book he had been reading, and other random objects of Bom Tombadil's daily life or the Forest. Strenghts: Bom Tombadil is known to be somewhat wise. While he is no Wise-Old-Man-Sitting-On-Top-Of-Mountain-For-Adventurers-To-Contact-For-Help sort of person, locals have been known to seek him out for help on personal problems. Also, Bom Tombadil is at least somewhat bright, and appears to have had at least a little bit of education (which is odd, since it seems like he's lived in the woods all his life). Finally, Bom Tombadil has all the Dexterity that is expected of shorter folks like halflings. Weaknesses: Bom Tombadil is physically weak, weaker than most halflings even. It is said that he has lost wrestling matches against squirrels and rabbits. Also, Bom Tombadil lacks social connections. Only a few people know he exists, and he is intent to keep it that way. Due to this lack of social connections, it would be hard for Bom Tombadil to gain any sort of political influence. Finally, Bom Tombadil is rather pacifist. He doesn't believe in violence, and tries to run all the way to his home in Old Dunshire Forest whenever the slightest threat is sent at him. He only ever fights if cornered.

Alma Kersley (A. Kersley, head acquisitioner of Arbor, 1666) ((art is mine, btw)) Theme? ~Essentials~ Name: Alma Kersley Age: born in 1628, because of the way humans age she looks roughly 25-30 year old Gender: Female Race: Human, highlander Quirks: + Seasoned mariner. Alma is skilled in naval affairs, including navigation and ship maintenance. - Inept soldier. Alma isn't very capable in any kind of combat, especially melee. That does not mean, however, that she is a pacifist. - Fearful of death. Alma is obsessed with overcoming death and, as a result, is horrified of it. = Macabrist. Alma is gravitated towards the mystic and macabre. She is interested in dark arts and necromancy, but tries to conceal it from others. Also, her sense of humor is rather awkwardly dark and cruel. = Pretender. Alma is, generally, not a very good person. She hides her negative traits behind a mask of politeness and integrity, letting her guard down only when she does not fear consequences of doing so. Archetype: Explorer, a bit of the Magician. She strives to unfold universe’s most covert secrets, those concerning matters of life and death. Simultaneously, Alma aims to be free from any kind of conformities/attachments/moralities and to be true to herself and herself only, to live in a way that befits her wishes the most and offers no hindrance. (check this for further reference) Alignment: Chaotic Neutral/Lawful Evil. From the former Alma inherits individualism and a specific type of freedom, which dictates her to stay loyal only to herself and use such categories as ‘good’ or ‘evil’ for her own whim, to succeed herself in the society, but never to hinder her. From the latter Alma inherits innate strive to use law and orderly society to her own benefits, regardless of whether they are malicious or not. She tends to use law/order as a protective measure from those who could oppose/confront her on moral grounds, therefore Alma aims to impose and bend any form of order whenever she can. (check this for further reference) ~Physical appearance~ Height: 174 cm (5’8.5”). Weight: 66-69 kg (145-149 lbs). Skin: Pale white. Hair: Black, a bit more than shoulder length. Tied into a bun with a few strands sticking out. Eyes: Light-blue, more grayish than not. Other defining features/extra anatomy: Has a burn mark in the form of … on her right palm; Habits: - tends to shrug a lot; - accustomed to greet people with a specific bow (basically this minus the outstretched leg); Gestures/Mannerisms: - unconsciously hides her gloved hand behind her back when lies or when around nobility/superiors; - rubs her chin when is interested in something; - raises her chin when confronted/threatened; - squints and frowns when suspicious/wary; - crosses her legs when sitting; - assumes a ‘oh really’ pose/expression when suspects someone of lies. This includes crossing her arms over her chest and/or raising an eyebrow; - throws her arms a lot when angry/frustrated; Demeanor/Carriage/Gait: Alma lacks common feminine gait (swaying hips, placing feet on a straight line, bending arms and extending them to the sides etc), unless she assumes it on purpose (which she almost never does). When focused, she tends to minimize her arm movements and half-turn sideways when she walks. Otherwise her moves are relaxed, without being too feminine or masculine alike. When around nobility she tends to straighten herself, placing her feet closely together, and raising her chin. In addition, she overdoes bows and courtesies. When angry/frustrated she tends to rub the bridge of her nose or forehead, gesticulate sharply, throw her hands to her front/sides/upwards. Voice: Her voice is calm and steady. It wouldn’t give away that she is lying, most of the times. (basically something like Bastila Shan here but may change if I find better example) Normally she tends to complicate her speech in a semi-aristocratic manner, although she couldn’t help herself but slip a few pirate-ish words (aye, bugger, cap’n etc.) into her language. When she becomes angry/threatened her speech becomes more pirate-like than aristocratic. Style: Ranging between elegant and restricted. (Eh?) Clothing: She wears mostly travelling attire: knee-high leather boots, patched up pants, a worn gambeson with a cotton shirt under it. Her right hand is always gloved, left – rarely so. She wears bracelets with odd inscriptions on each of her arms. ~Personality~ ~~Part I: Essentials~~ Loves/Favorites: - witnessing how seemingly good people show the worst part of their nature; - steering a ship, especially during storm; - listening to/telling horror stories; Hates: - alcohol and profuse alcohol drinkers; - overly honorable/religious people; - hopeless optimists; - insects, worms and other squirmy abominations; Hobbies: - eavesdropping on rumors and dramas; - mapmaking; - drawing ships/planning her own ship designs; - organizing and reorganizing her notes/journals; Talents/Skills: - journeyman carpenter; - capable mariner; - rookie swordfighter (1 lesson from Max Braveheart); - basic first aid (1 lesson from Vitalius Maarsen); - wannabe watermancer (being taught by Morgan Hallowfall); Hopes/Dreams: - to get her own ship and crew; - to live forever; Fears/Nightmares: - death (duh); - drowning in the sea of bugs/worms; Best Quality: Judicious. She is inclined to think things through and come up with the best approach. You won’t see her being reckless or act hastily. Greatest Flaw: Selfish. She is rather indifferent about others. Her interest in other people is dictated by how useful they can be to her. She may hold the ‘good person‘ façade for a while, but if someone knows her long enough – they will see through it. Strengths: + Sharply minded. She has witnessed people lie and lied herself a plenty. Her shady line of work in the past made her attuned to subtle things about the ways people talk and gesture. + Agile. The sea does not pity those feeble and weak, who gets easily sore! Climbing the rigging, lowering sails, rowing boats: she has done plenty and could do plenty more. Weaknesses: - Inept at combat. She took every opportunity she had to avoid fighting. Even if she knows which side of the sword to grab, or how to do a convincing stance, she simply has little to no experience in melee, archery and hand-to-hand combat (and wearing armor exhausts her very very rapidly). - Easily bored. When she is not interested in things, she can’t pretend otherwise. She will have a hard time reading a book irrelevant to her goals and hobbies, she will slack on a job in which she has little point and interest doing, she will zone out of conversation that bores her. This hinders her learning to some degree and makes her a hard pupil to teach in some occasions. Quirks (secondary): = Secretive. No matter what clothes/armor she wears, she always seems to cover her right arm; = Hands off. Gets angry and annoyed when people touch her in a frivolous manner without her permission (which she never gives); = Insomnious. Tries to sleep as little as she can to avoid missing her already not too long life; - Arthropod hater. Can’t stand bugs/worms and everything remotely similar/related to them; - Moderately paranoid. Assumes worst of people and always stays on her guard. Believes in conspiracy theories; = Picky with colors. Tends to choose blue-ish or black-grey attire; - Resentful. Never forgives and never forgets unless she receives a sufficient apology; = Night owl. Acts and thinks faster after dusk; = Casual liar. Lies about unimportant things simply to test her skills; + Navigator. She knows her way around and can always figure out where north lies. Geographically aware; = Pessimistic. The world is grim and full of anguish; = No, you. Tends to answer a question with a question; One thing he/she is and one thing he/she is not: Polite but not kindhearted. What he/she wants (ex: move towards) and doesn’t want (ex: move away from, avoid): + She wants to get high standing in the society, or, as another option, to become powerful enough to create and support her own small society, a group of loyal comrades/servants; - She does not want to simply form a family and give up her life and dreams in order to raise her children properly; + She moves towards getting her own ship and participating in naval trade/combat; + She doesn’t mind affecting political situation in subtle ways, perhaps becoming an advisor/ambassador or even a spy/assassin. Anything that gives her power but keeps her out of sight is a plus; - She avoids fighting on foot and joining regular armies. She can't imagine herself participating in full scale wars for the rest of her life; ~~Part II: In-depth analysis~~ How does the character picture himself/herself? - Good liar and impersonator; - Shrewd and perceptive, able to see through other people’s lies; - Looks and talks like a person of high standing/has a very good manners; How do others see him/her? - Sly, secretive and insincere; - Insensitive and coldhearted; Five adjectives that he/she would use to describe his/herself: Cunning, judicious, insightful, resourceful, adaptable. Five adjectives others would use to describe him/her: Shrewd, insensitive, reliable, polite, damsel. Most valued possession: Darkest secret and/or treasured memory: Most proud accomplishment and or greatest failure: + Sailed the seas on a proper ship; - Got imprisoned because her lies failed her; Is he/she motivated by possibility or necessity? She considers finding a way to escape death her biggest necessity and an only true goal to pursue. Any other things she do are either meant to aid her in the main goal, or to conceal her true intentions. Current motivation: Ultimate survival, which is complemented by gaining power. How does he/she view the future and/or the past? - She either views herself finding a way to live forever through dark magic, or simply dying of old age, slipping into oblivion; - She regrets not starting to learn about life, death and souls earlier; - She regrets being a human in opposition to other long-living races; What is his/her philosophy on life and death? Alma views death rather simply: it is the end of consciousness, personality and being. Therefore, death is not an option for her. No matter how hard, horrible or twisted her existence becomes, she intends to grasp it tightly and never let go, because ‘life is suffering, and if you don’t like to suffer as much as you like pleasure, you don’t like living’. What kind of energy level do they usually have? Calm, more rarely tired and somber; How does he/she show and/or handle: love, affection, grief, pain, anger, sadness, conflict, change, loss? - Love does not interest her much, because it leads to nothing of which she wants to achieve; - She abstains herself from being affectionate, because she wants to be ready to sacrifice everyone on her way to get what she wants. Although, sometimes she can’t help herself to consider someone a friend, even if she tries to convince herself otherwise; - Being selfish and insensitive, Alma rarely feels grief, unless towards her relatives and very close friends. She will portray grief on public, however, to blend in and appear as a good person; - Pain angers her and boils her blood. She will try to overcome it until she loses conscience; - Alma gets irritated or vindictive, rather than angry. If pushed over her limits, however, she will cuss like a hardened mariner and attempt to mutilate the offender in the most cruel way possible, physically or psychologically; - She succumbs to apathy and despair when she sees no way for her to progress towards her goals, or if she feels that world is moving on without her and time is slipping by aimlessly; - Alma is the kind of person that would try to solve conflicts without being exposed to danger. She prefers talking her way out of sticky situations by lying, threatening, deceiving and bargaining with her opponents. In a verbal conflict she will try to expose her opponent’s flaws and use the ‘ad hominem’ on him/her; - Alma has travelled for a long time from place to place, having no home besides a bunk on the lower deck. She is not tied to anything and anyone in particular, even if she does not appear so. She is not a stranger to changes, you could even say that she is used to them; Does he/she have a temper? The little temper Alma has she conceals well enough from anybody. How does he/she respond to the surrounding world, the ‘unfamiliar,’ and other people in general? Alma is cautious of others and tends to assume the worst about people, allowing them to slowly grow in her eyes afterwards. She will conceal her true intentions, origin, manners etc. at first, testing and attuning to the stranger. Polite or rude? Polite Stingy or generous? Stingy when she does not care about her reputation, generous when she has to appear so. What kind of ‘public’ face does he/she display? Alma will try to appear as noble/valorous/loyal/generous as she can among those who hold power/can influence her greatly. She rarely puts away that mask, doing so only in front of those she don’t care at all, or closest comrades, who wouldn’t mind her true personality. Leader or a follower? Hard to choose between the two. It is unlikely that she is a ‘follower’ type because she lacks loyalty to anyone, even though she appears to be otherwise. More happy by themselves or in a group? By themselves. Does he/she have any addictions/dependencies/fixations/fetishes/ or other strange behavior? - attracted to macabre and dark stuff; What is his/her sexual preference/experience/values? - Alma is heterosexual, for the most part. - She is more attracted to elves than to, per say, dwarves. - Orcs and khas are a no-no. ~Background~ Setting: Born in Axious, moved to Atlas where she lives till today. Occupation: - Since Malin’s Welcome 1663 an Arbor Acquisitioner (recruiter). Educational background/other learning experiences: - Common tongue and a bit of Haenseti (taught by parents); - Writing and grammar (taught by mother); - Manners and high-social behavior (taught by mother); - Basic rhetoric (taught by Brug and Willghar); Intelligence Level: Average, I guess? She’s not a dum-dum, but not a genius either, only shrewd and perceptive. Short Term Goals: - Achieve high standing in a society; - Learn some magic; - Learn how to swordfight; Long Term Goals: - Buy/assemble a ship and gather a crew to run it; - Escape death; Backstory: Alma was born in the Kingdom of Santegia, Axios, in 1628, during the brief time of peace after a treaty between Oren and Coalition of the three has been signed. She was raised in a family of two Haenseti refugees who walked with Barbanovs to the Mardon, were oppressed and drowning in poverty under the rule of Orenian empire and lastly, after all the political disputes, settled in the outskirts of Santegia. Herfather was a carpenter, her mother – a housewife and an artist. Being torn away from their culture, Alma's parents changed their family name to Kersley in order to appear more heartlandish and avoid further discrimination. At long last they decided to have a child so it could grow in her own home, not forced to change allegiance from one king to another. The next few years after Alma’s birth were alike to a humble heaven. Alma’s mother taught her how to be a lady and her father told her tales of All-father and the Long Dark. Alas, in 1637 her father was drafted into the army due to the military reformation and expansion. In 1639 he returned after the victory over an Urguan Kingdom, yet he was missing his left arm. From now on Alma had to help her father in his trade so that they could earn money to afford food and taxes. She was getting more skilled in carpentry, her da was getting weaker and her ma was getting more depressed. 5 years after migration to Atlas her father could not work anymore and was chained to bed with his wife having to take care of him. This is when Alma departed home in order to get a profitable job and afford an expensive healer for her father. In 1646 she came upon a suspicious haenseti sailboat owner who was hiring folk for an even more suspicious task. The man happened to be so called Willghar the Yellow Crotch, a former privateer and heavy ale drinker. Alma accepted his offer and soon discovered that Willghar’s line of work was, to put it lightly, not quite lawful. With a help of a dwarf named Glass-Eyed Brug Willghar was smuggling contraband across riverside settlements. Brug was skilled in calligraphy and jurisprudence, so he was forging various documents in order to sell their goods without suspicion. Alma, being somewhat skilled at carpentry, travelled with Willghar and Brug, fixing their boat when it needed fixing. After some time she began to partake in Willghar’s negotiations with traders and coastal guards, getting experienced in rhetoric (see: profuse lying). All this time she was sending part of her earnings back to her parents in Santegia-Haria. In 1649 Willghar, Brug and Alma had enough funds to afford a proper ship and hire a crew, which they did. The vessel was an old schooner, but nevertheless Willghar lovingly named it ‘The Rotten Martlet’. For a few years Rotten Martlet sailed around the Atlas and Willghar continued his dirty work with Alma as his first mate. On their travels she met a lot of different people and heard a lot of myths, legends and tales, paying more attention to those revolving around death and afterlife. In 1656 Willghar got drunk (even more than usual) and damaged the steering wheel of Rotten Martlet, which led to the ship crashing into the reefs somewhere around Golf isles. Majority of the crew sank to the bottom of the sea, and even though his body was never found (not that anyone was actually looking) Willghar is considered to have met the same fate. Alma and Brug, however, managed to survive and sailed back to the continent on the first passing ship. They were headed to the Kingdom of Haense, home of Willghar and motherland of Alma’s parents, when in 1657 some disgruntled merchants (see: ploughin' bastards) recognized her and reported to the city guards of Marna. While awaiting her trial in prison Alma had a long talk with her cellmate, a dark she-elf called ‘Dipsy’ (hopefully just a nickname).Dipsy pitied Alma for being a human and having such a short lifespan, but also suggested that it could be helped by magic, most likely the dark type. Idea stuck to Alma and after a few months, when Brug finally succeeded in getting her out of jail (not without some elaborate document forgeries and few old acquaintances), she decided to fight death as long as she can. Alma had finally reached Haense with Brug in 1658, where she found some leads to the ancient places of mysterious power. Then she parted with her dwarven friend and decided to visit her parents before embarking on her new quest. In 1659 Alma reached her old home in the outskirts of Santegia only to find an abandoned cottage with boarded up windows. Neighbors told her that her father died in 1654 of some illness despite the efforts of local doctors, and her mother was becoming stranger and stranger since then until vanishing without a trace in 1658. Without a trail to follow Alma decided to stay a bit longer in Santegia to mourn her parents and gather resources to embark on her quest towards mysterious and unknown. Soon she realized that no captain would venture where she wishes to go, therefore it became obvious that Alma had to finally get herself her own vessel and a loyal crew... ~Combat~ Physical Strength: Just enough to make her not useless at her job. Nothing worth noting. Coordination/Reflexes: Rather good, she has a strong survival instincts and will act fast to escape life-threatening hazards. Fighting Style: Considering how little she knows about combat in general, Alma will try to mostly defend herself and wear down/disable her opponent if she can. This means that her tactics in a fight is to parry/evade/riposte/increase distance, even though she is not skilled at either things. In an open fight she’ll use her surroundings to stall her attacker and take a safe/better position or to escape whatsoever. Best case scenario for would be distracting her attacker, stabbing him with a dagger and retreating. Unusual Abilities/Powers: Nothing Weapons/Other Gear: She always carries a few daggers and wears a rapier by her side, mostly to show off. ~Afterword~ Welp, this turned out to be quite a wall of text, it seems. The main reason I've used so much text for describing Alma persona is to define her character as much as I can, set a specific 'rulebook' for myself to reference and follow when I struggle to roleplay her correctly. The second reason is because I found a specific reference sheet template, which I liked very much and wanted to fill. Unfortunately, it is not perfect (because nothing is), so there are quite a few repeats in Alma's profile and, very very likely, a lot of contradictions. Also, and this goes without saying, this topic should contain a handful of grammatic/orphographic mistakes. If any of you will care enough to read all of this (which I do not expect, frankly) then I would be more than welcome to face criticizm and suggestions for improval.

Lathai Backstory: Lathai's date of birth isn't exactly recorded in a history book, nor his parents. The only information we have about his age is from just looking at him, doing so he looks as if he is around 12-13 years old. Lathai was found in haystack outside an unknown village by two guards (likely a human one), growing up within an orphanage a human one. He was regularly discriminated and segregated from the other human children. He usually kept to himself doing what he could to gain knowledge, reading whatever he was able to sound out at the time, eventually, he gained a lot of useful information for his age. When Lathai wasn't alone he enjoyed playing with his fellow elves, pretending he was a prestigious knight in a human kingdom. After one night he left the orphanage seeking a better life away from the discrimination and racism, he left his friends a note behind telling him where he'd go. Personality: Lathai is normally calmed in nature talking softly and carefully when he feels comfortable around someone he will more likely show off his energetic side talking at a much faster pace, with plenty of voice cracks. Though of low-birth, Lathai carries himself highly more than some nobles at times, even coming off as a little prideful, which makes him seem meaner than most. Lathai likely will treat people the way they treat him,(allow me to put this in perspective if someone approached Lathai in a rude way, he would most likely show the same amount of rudeness) Though this isn't very often. Lathai enjoys learning things and plans to continue learning until he dies. Lathai very rarely will back down from fights, unless told to. Even going into a fight head on without planning ahead which sometimes makes him a liability. Appearance Description: Lathai doesn't have many distinct elven features these features consist of his ears, which are small in width but are quite long, and his skin which is fair similar to most elves but with a human skin tone. From a distance, Lathai could perceive as a human due to his height and stature, along with his hair which he kept ear length, and his pale blue eyes which were like looking into a snowstorm or ocean. Present Time & Motive: Currently, Lathai resides in Stangeia, but he plans to move to Arbor a barony within Renatus-Marna. He plans to move there to further improve his training as a knight, alongside with Ser Magnus Ironwood who he hopes to take him on as his squire. This forum will be further edited as the character gets even more fleshed out and older.

Alkheim, of the house of Alsteim, the descendant of Alkheir, the Bowman, the Hunter, or among the creatures of war, the terror. Alkheim lived with his mother and father in the kingdom of Renatus. They dwelt in peace in this town for a long time. However, since an Orc settlement was close by, the Orcs had become more than a mere nuisance to traders and travelers, they were becoming a threat. Knowing that the Orcs and Goblins were both very warlike and territorial, Alkheir knew that it would start weighing heavily on the kingdom eventually if the trades were raided continuously. Alkheims father, Alkheir saw the grievance the Orcs, Goblins, creatures caused, so, he went to the king of Renatus, asking for permission to protect these traders and caravans. The king understood the reason for Alkheirs wants to do this; people were dying due to these constant raids. However, Alkheir reminded the kind of the house of Alsteim, that in the days of old, they protected the king, they were his elites. When the king found out that Alkheir was speaking the truth, he named the group the group of old, the rangers. It only seemed fitting, since the line had descended from the house of Alsteim, and they had practiced the skill for generations, still being amazing Bowmen, trackers, etc. When Alkheir had permission, he took his men and created a group to defend the travelers and traders from the Orcs This made these creatures fearful of Alkheim the terror, but, they also hated him.Soon afterward, more Orcs began attacking these caravans of traders, knowing that if enough attacked, the defenders would be overwhelmed. The numbers of them were to great and Alkheims father perished, and the caravan was plundered. When Alkheim heard of this, he grieved greatly, he gathered many of his friends who were warriors or archers as himself. Being a successful tracker, he tracked down the murderous Orcs and attacked with his men. Unfortunately, the Orcs were too strong for them, they slaughtered his friends and injured him greatly. Alkheim barely escaped with his life. After healing himself and fully recovering from the wounds inflicted upon him by the Orcs, he discovered that his face was mauled and scared, forcing him to hide his face in a deep cowl. Alkheim did not desire to live in a kingdom with so many sad memories, he wandered about, trying to uphold justice, and running from the tragic sorrows of his memories. Never would Alkheim forget the deeds that the Orcs committed. Give me any suggestions, do you like it, should I add something. I would like the lore team to look at this to see if there are any lore errors. Also, maybe adding some lore to the house of Alsteim.

Full Name: Armaedik Ceru Berr'ante Nicknames: Armae (Don't use it if you want to live) Race: Wood Elf Occupation: Virarim Age: 37 Alignment: Lawful Good Status: Alive, Virarim Seed: Berr'ante Height: 5’2" Hair Color: Light Brown Eye Color: Dark Green Siblings: Drua Berr'ante (Deceased) Parents: Merekec Berr'ante, Joaline Berr'ante (Deceased) Other Family: Brat'ek Berr'ante (First Cousin) Children: None Wife: None Demeanor: A soldier willing to fight for his kind. Although kind at heart, he may be brash, arrogant, reckless, and full of himself at times, and aspires for glory. Attire: Basically always wears the Virarim uniform. Description: A slender 'ame with slightly paler brown skin, green eyes, and light brown hair. Bears a line and semicircle tattoo on his neck, while an arrow on his left shoulder and a bow on his right. Skills: Highly skilled with the bow, as well as skilled with creating them. Is also decently agile.

Appearance- Simon is tall and wiry, without much muscle and with even less fat. He has a large, thick mane of dark blond hair, which he usually pulls back into a ponytail. Thanks to his father’s genetics, the hair is fast greying. He has really awful facial hair (think Van Hohenheim, but with a horrible, scraggly goatee as well as weird sideburns). Simon is usually seen wearing a frayed dark blue waistcoat over a white shirt, with brown trousers and dark grey boots. He also has disproportionately large hands and long fingers. He looks to be in his late twenties or so. Height: 6 feet, 4 inches Weight: 170 lbs Hair color: Dark blond, sparse grey streaks Eye colour: Reddish brown Age currently: 37 Simon (pronounced SEE-moan) was born in 1639 in Norland, the illegitimate son of a Heartlander citizen (Ellen Sterling) and an Adunian named Andreas. Shortly after Simon’s birth, Andreas vanished from Norland in such haste that he left his jacket on Ellen’s bedpost. Ellen kept it in a drawer for seventeen years afterwards as a sort of memento until Simon took it as he fled the country. Simon was teased by other children and called names for being fatherless. One such name (Birch-forest, for his thick golden hair) stuck, and Simon took it as his surname. He grew to be a reasonably healthy young man, with nimble fingers and skill in brewing and cooking. When Simon turned 17, a family tragedy was blamed on him. Having watched what little reputation he had left crumble, Simon became a nomad until his 22nd year, when moved to Haense. He lives in Markev at 2 Red Square and owns a restaurant aptly named “SOUP AND PIE”. It sells soup and pie, among other things. Traits: Physically weak- Simon is, to put it simply, a wimp. He cannot lift heavy things or fight well. His only strength on the battlefield is archery. If made to fight against any random bandit, Simon would lose very easily. He can, however, run fast. Impulsive- Simon is rather intelligent for his species, though he sometimes (lots of times) lets his impulses cloud his judgement. He tends to do whatever he thinks sounds fun at the moment, and to throw caution to the wind. It’s not like he doesn’t recognise the risk- it’s that he simply does not care. Chef- Simon has a knack for cooking, which he has taken advantage of with his restaurant. His specialties are stews and pumpkin pie. Introverted: Though he doesn’t mind getting together with friends sometimes, Simon will usually be found sitting in his house above SOUP AND PIE, drafting poetry and experimenting with recipes and attempting to play his recorder (when he isn’t working, that is). Amateur poet- Simon has written several short poems in his spare time, and translated one song. He is actually a fairly good wordsmith, but is a bit too self-conscious about his work to sell any of it- at least, not under his own name. Loud- Simon tends to speak loudly, especially when drunk. Random fun facts- Simon has a faint German accent, which tends to thicken the drunker he gets. Simon is extremely protective of his awful facial hair, and thinks that it makes him look stylish. Others do not share his sentiment. Simon taught himself to read and write. He has awful handwriting and spells things wrong. Simon is bisexual.

This is just a brief Biography of Nodian to give a small introduction into my main Persona Basic Information Full Name: Nodian Elric Year of Birth: 1638 Place of Birth: Unknown Race: Halfling Gender: Male Appearance Height: 2'9 ft / 0.83 m Weight: 70 lbs / 32 kg Eye Color: Mix between gray/blue Hair Color: Blonde Hair Style: short curvy other: always wears a gray scarf Personality Likes: new environment, adventures, meeting new people, reading, writing Dislikes: rude language and deep water Personal goal: gettin famous with writing General Attitude: very openminded, kind and also pretty naive Brief Biography Nodian never met his parents, as baby he was left in front if the door of a small farmer family in the Kingdom of Marna, he was raised by humans and got taught like every other human child. In early years he found interest in reading and writing and so his dream of gettin a famous writer was born. In the age of 21 he decided to start his own adventure and left his home, but after some weeks he decided to settle down in an actual Halfling town to learn from the Halflings and to start his career as writer and author. Now he got his new home in Dunshire, where he got his own little burrow.

Hello my friends. Due to the Forum's templating and general lack of appealing formatting, please refer to this link to view my Character Sheet. Enjoy! https://tinyurl.com/yalkqdq3 Wiki Link; https://wikia.lordofthecraft.net/index.php?title=Prince_Henry_Richard

Naivara Amakiir - Lady of the forest MORE INFORMATION WILL BE ADDED AS TIME GOES ON | NAME INFORMATION | | Current Full Name | Naivara Amakiir | Nick Names | * Vara * Kiir | Titles | * None | Traits | * Naivara Feels far more comfortable around animals then people. After leaving her family to explore the fast open world, she has quickly learned that peoples values and actions are that of mindless animals, and had quickly taken to the company of the forest creatures. * Naivara remembers things very easily, and does not take kindly to insults thrown at her. She hold grudges fairly easily. *Don't expect Naivara to trust so easily into you when only just meeting, she is very wary of other races besides the wooden elves. | Zodiac | Cancer | Age | 109 Years of age | Age she appears | Early to mid 20's | PHYSICAL INFORMATION | | Race | Wood Elf | Gender | Female. | Build | A small and slender young lady with subtle curves. | Height | 4'9" | Weight | 11Olbs | Hair Details | Naivara has Dark red stands that fall well past her shoulders, and is usually left free to blow in the winds. She rarely pins it up,but when she does its usually when battle is on the horizon. | Eye Details | Her eyes are a light emerald hue that almost shines when the suns rays pierce them just right. | Skin Tone | She has spent a lot of time outdoors, so her skin is a nice light tan all the way around. | Scares and Tattoos | * * | Clothing | Naivara has the usual clothing from her people, including some spare shirts and undergarments. Nothing special. | PERSONAL INFORMATION | | Character Strengths | * Naivara has a very strong will, and will try and try again before giving up on something or someone. * She is very loyal to the friends and family she cares about, though you have to get her to trust you first. * Flexibility is no issue for Naivara, physically and mentally. She can get out of some pretty tight situations. | Character Weakness's | * She has very deep trust issues, and it will take a lot to get her to accept you as a friend or acquaintance. * Despite her will to see the lighter side of things, she always turns to violence before communication. * To top everything off she hides her shyness with a harsh temper, and when in situations she deems you not a threat she will shy her speech unless addressed. Once she becomes accustom to you though she has no issue voicing her opinion. | Religion | * Growing up as a wood elf she prayed daily to the goddess Cerridwen. | Fears | * Naivara has a strong fear of water, and will only swim if her life is in the balance of death. | Primary | *Naivara is very distant to people, but when she makes friends she fears loosing them. She does not want to be alone. | Mild | *Death is always a fear on her mind, but in the end she knows everything dies. She is scared but accepting. | Lesser | | Sexuality | Heterosexual. | Marital Status | * Single | Personal details | * Naivara, though later in life, wishes to have children. | 1-2 | * She is mainly attracted to the opposite sex, and only in certain races. | humans / elves | * It will take a lot more to try and whoo her if you are any other race listed. * * | BACKGROUND INFORMATION | | Home Locations | * Her only real home is Laureh'Lin * She has no other home location yet. | Past Jobs | * None | Current Job(s) | * None at the moment. | Mother | Keyleth Amakiir | Father | Quarion Amakiir | Pets | * Name - Species - Rank * * | Companions | * Name - Race - Rank | Pet/Companion/People Deaths | * Name - Race - How - When | Languages | * Elvish - Fluent - Main Language *Common - Mostly Fluent - Secondary Language *Dwarvish - Knows some - Rarely used | Alignment | * Chaotic Good | PREFERENCE DETAILS | | Favored | Person: * She dislikes most people at the moment Foods: * vegetables * Breads * Sweets Drinks: * Herbal teas * Water * Some forms of Alcohol Locations: * Any peaceful forest * Laureh'Lin * Personal Activities: * Drawing * Reading * Practicing her archery and swordsmanship Animal: Wolf Color: Red | Distasting | Person: * Foods: * Lots of meat * Raw anything Drinks: * Heavy Alcohol Locations: N/A Activitys: * Killing without a cause Animals: N/A Color: Overly dark colors | INVENTORY DETAILS | In Use - Inactive - Destroyed * Name - Item - Details | RELATIONSHIPS | Loved - Trusted - Close - friends - Acquaintance - Neutral - Distrusted - Enemy's - Hated * Name - Race - Relationship - Rank - Details

Vosirk Blackaxe-Grandaxe The Iron Druid -=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-= Gender: Male Race: Mountain Dwarf Status: Healthy Height: 4’11 Eyes: Brown Hair: Dark Red Skin: Light-skinned, slowly gaining a tan Markings/Tattoos: Various scars, most noticeable being over his eye. Dwarven-styled tattoos in the color of raw iron ore along his right arm. -=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=- -=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=- -==Everything beyond this point cannot be known unless learned through rp interaction with my character, metagaming this will not be tolerated==- Nicknames: Firebeard, Vos, Iron Age: 289 Birth Year: 1401 Health: Healthy Personality: Generally light-hearted and is most often seen with a calm, content expression. He enjoys being a helping hand to friends and kin. Inventory: Longsword, Oak Staff with dwarven symbols and words carved into it, Some kind of food, two flasks of ale and water Parents: Fimlin Grandaxe, Unknown Mountain Dwarf Siblings: Torvin Blackaxe Spouse: Elenora Zytiaear Children: Velatha and Anita, Primrose Zytiaear His Story: WIP Artwork:

Vailon Hel’Spire ---<General Information>--- Name: Vailon Hel’spire Gender: Female Race: Dark Elf Age: 21 Other Names: Vail, Valior, Titles: None ---<Personal Information>--- Birth date: ??? Birth Place: Somewhere outside of San’Torr Likes: Alcohol, Friends, Lich’s, Racial Equality Dislikes: Racistem, betrayal ---<Mental Information>--- Languages: Common Tongue Alignment: Lawful Chaotic Hoppies: ---<Social Information>--- Emotional Stability: Mostly very stable can take almost everything you throw at her, that’s a almost though. Sense of Humor: Very sarcastic, Sometimes dark. Reputation: N/A ---<OOC Information>--- Goals: I wish too Vailon have a very intense rivalry with her sister. Also sometime be turned into a Lich, Pale Knight, or a Golem and lead a undead legion. Very odd and hard goal but it’s a bit different then my usual personas . Username: Apolleyen Skype: Rivside Talrift

Character’s name: Character’s name: Fyran Goldvine Her gender: male Her race: Halfling Her age: 22 Sexuality: Heterosexual Relationship status: Single Mingle Backstory (In rough): Fyran was born on the 7th February 1613 on an unknown island at kingdom of Nordland at a secret village. He lives there for several years with his father, mother and uncle who all waorked as fishermen. Due too his incompetence at fishing , he got the duty to cook. This remains his favourite hobby forever. One day at fishing, his parents fished at the cliffs and they caught a huge fish, which was so strong that he pulled both unexpected strong from the cliff and both died. Fyran continued to live with his uncle there until he was 21, but then both decided to go to Ceru to the other halflings. They travelled for months on a fisherboat and sadly, his uncle died of foodpoisoning on the boat, but Fyran managed to land on Ceru and went to Reedsborough at the Age of 22, where he lives today. Personality: Fyran is a halfling with an opwn mind and mouth. He says and does what he wants and normally only follows the laws he likes. He isn't the most friendly halfling, but sociable. His intelligence is abobe average, which isn't much though, bwcause Halflings aren't intelligent. He can be bought for money and loves shiny things. Goal in life: Fyran is a very good cook, especially for fish and soops. He wants to open a pub or restaurant one day in a big city, not Reedesborough and wants to live there. He also wants to become the best Chef of Veru and if Possible, Aoria. Likes/interests: Fyran enjoys Food, food and more food. He also likes to drink much booze, not only at feasts. He loves water and boats and is an excellent sailor, due to the sail from Nordland to Reedesborough. And in the end, he loves pubs and restaurants. Food: Cooked Salmon Drink: Rum Colour: Green Dislikes: He hates arrogant and dumb people and also just people who are puppets and don't have their own mimd and people with no emotions. He doesn't like taxes and Snow elves. Food: Rabbit Stew Drink: Tea Colour: Red Strengths/Talents: Fyran is the most loyalest Person ever. If a person is very friendly or nice to him, he can even give his life to them. He is also a good chef and barkeeper and kann be funny to talk too. Weaknesses: Fyran is not very strong and fast, due to his weight. He can eaaily be defeated and isn't the bravest, but can be brave if he protects people he is very loyal too. He is also very easy ro trust and get with money. Appearance: Fyran is a fat, a bit grumpy and small (though big for his kind) Person. He is 2'9 feet tall and weighs 90 lbs. He has brown hair and green eyes and generaly wears much green.

Those Small People You’ve all seen them. Probably. Those insufferable little whine boxes that run around cities, screeching at the top of their lungs. You likely look at them and turn the other cheek, hoping they don’t come your way until someone comes along with a heart of pure gold to pluck them off the streets. It happens every day. Were you someone not familiar with LoTC, you’d probably think I was talking about some sort of monster or a ghost. But no, I’m talking about children. Now it’s all coming back to you, the Vietnam flashbacks of packs of roaming orphans with edgy backstories, the adults stuck in the bodies of 5-10 year olds, and even the people willing to drop everything in order to pluck a random kid off the street that they met that day to take into their home. For me, I have visions of elvish families with 15 kids. We’ve all had bad experiences with child characters. It’s very difficult to act out the role of a child without coming off as an insufferable little ragamuffin. But with the right pushes, a few changes, and a metric tonne of elbow grease, we can make child characters into something better. Something not to cringe at. But how can we? Children as People “Writing from the viewpoint of the child does not give us the right to make of our characters what we wish children were – but to consider them as they are.” - Anonymous As this anonymous person said, consider them as they are. And what are they? They’re simply people, just the same as you or me. The only difference between an adult and a child is that the child has only just been brought into the world. Thus, you must follow the same rules for character development as you do with an adult character. The key here is perspective. I like to think that an adult would make very similar decisions to a child if they knew only what a child knew. We base our choices and live off of what we know, our experiences. A child is just emerging to the world, they lack experiences to guide them. Ideally, adults should be able to guide them through until they’ve created these experiences themselves. In other cases, a child without a guide is like a lost lamb. They make erratic choices, spun still from what they know. They’ll be lost, frustrated even. Do not mistake ignorance for stupidity, mind you. As people, we are still ignorant of many things that still await us, but we’re not stupid (By our own standards at least). Nor are children. It is important to roleplay your character’s level of understanding properly because if you don’t, it can lead to unnecessarily dumb characters (Unless that is your character’s trait, but that applies to any character, child or not child.) Children are Cement “Children are like wet cement. Whatever falls on them makes an impression.” - Dr. Haim Ginott The mind of a child, as Dr. Haim puts it, is much like wet cement or clay. It’s very easy to leave a lasting impression once it’s been impacted by the outside world. And after such, it’s very hard to reverse the impact, or rather to smooth out the clay, especially if it’s been left alone long enough to dry. In order to make your child characters come to life, they must act like cement. How can you bring this into your roleplay? Well, your character needs to be easily molded as well, taking in every experience that happens to them. Everything holds great sway in a child’s mind, that’s often why children seem to blow things out of proportion. To them, the smallest tasks can seem daunting, and events in our lives that seem small and insignificant mean the world to them. Pay close attention to whatever happens to your characters, and get creative! As the creator, pick and choose what your character really takes in, and don’t be afraid to have your character be taken down a path different from the one you chose. After all, cement is usually made to be a foundation to build from. Hey, Hearts of Gold! People very severely underestimate the attention you need to give a child. They need to be taken care of most of the hours of the day and raised to be a decent member of society. At least that’s how it usually is supposed to be. In the real world, people often take years to decide if they need a child. They’re a massive physical, mental, and economic toll to any family. This holds even more true in a medieval society, where the world is much harsher and colder to the weak. Which is why it physically pains me when people just go around and pick up orphans off the streets to bring them into their homes. It usually takes months of preparation and planning before you even think about adoption, and even more time before you actually do. Bringing in 5 random ass urchins into your home is a really unrealistic move. But that’s just my opinion. Do’s and Dont’s; Tips and Tricks Find someone who needs a child character played, or ask someone to make their parents. Please, just do it. At this point, we could make a nation with the sheer number of little orphans running around. Something I’ve learned from the time I’ve spent with many of my little cousins. Children are honest, painfully so. If they don’t like you, you’ll know it. Everyone else will too. Children pay little attention to courtesy and they won’t sugar coat anything they say until they’re taught otherwise. Naive and stupid are not interchangeable. You can be smart, without having experienced enough to make a proper judgment. And you can be stupid, but have experienced a lot. They are two entirely separate concepts. Dialogue: You’re going to make mistakes here. The key is to find a nice balance between making your character speak maturely, and not mature enough. Do your research here, see how some authors approach writing children, pay attention to how they use their words. Make sure you DEVELOP. Most of the development in our lives happens when we’re children, make that apparent in your roleplay. Show the cogs of the mind turning in your characters heads, it will only ever add to the experience. Write out those connections they’re making. Have fun with it! Experiment! Make mistakes, learn. You’ll only get better over time ^^

Thank you anybody Build: Lean. Face Shape: Slight Oblongish Face. Skin Color: Light Olive Skin (Tans easily). Height: 6’1 Hair style: Short and curly. Hair color: Very Dark Brown. Facial Hair: Stubble. Eye Shape: Round almond-like eyes. Eye color: Syrup colored eyes. Eyebrow Shape: Slightly angled. Nose Shape: Slight aquiline nose. Mouth Shape: Natural and slightly thin . Scars: Stab scars across his body (from his captor). Gender: Male Race: Adunian For cloths I would liek something similar to but with more fur and a sigil of a phoenix on either the arm of the chestplate.

Phineas II Warlai Basic Information: Name: Phineas Warlai, the Second. Age: 17 Gender: Male Race: Human (Heartlander) Biography: Phineas Warlai was born to Phineas Warlai sr. and his wife, Evelyn, in 1534 during "The Amber Cold". He was raised, for around eight years of his life, in the Copper District of Felsen, his father slowly building up a fortune in selling jewelery. After taking a loan from a Dark Elf merchant, Phineas Warlai was killed for not repaying the debt, thus forcing the family to flee the city. Whilst Evelyn thought it safe to keep their eldest child, Gwyn, with her, she decided to have Phineas II fostered at a farm a days ride from where they lived, hoping to conceal his identity and hide him from the guards. After learning how merchants trade, then learning from soldiers how to use a sword and bow, Phineas II returns to Felsen on his fifteenth birthday, to meet his sister once more. Having heard from a passing guardsman that she was employed at the Imperial Palace, he seeks her out there. However, to his anguish, he discovers she has killed herself, the cause unknown to him. He thus takes up her fortune and home in the city, pledging himself to the Emperor, who says he may be knighted if he can prove himself as a member of the Felsen Watch. After a year in the Watch and earning a knighthood for saving a Imperial Princess from a group of rebels, Phineas leaves the city in search of better position, finding such at the court of Baron Jory Marbrand in Vandoria and renouncing his knighthood and citizenship in the Orenian Empire. Personality: Phineas is a people-pleaser at best, always saying what he thinks will make his mentor's and master's happy. Whilst not as ambitious as his sister, he does wish for the finer things in life and seeks a knighthood, perhaps a title coming not to far after. He is kind to most people, he feels he is obligated to help those who need it most. Strengths: Good with a bow, Intelligent, Ambitious, Strong, Diplomatic Weaknesses: Too timid around strangers, Brooding, Often spends too much Mina Appearance: Phineas stands at 5'8, slightly tall for his age, and has tanner skin than his sister did due to his work as a farmhand. He has deep green eyes, which are very wide and large, and has a mop of thick, coarse black hair. Family and Relationships: Phineas Warlai sr. - Father - Deceased Evelyn Warlai (nee' Underfoot) - Mother - Alive Gwyn Warlai - Older Sister - Deceased Duke Jan Kovachev - Former Guardian - Alive Commandant Beezlebub of the Felsen Watch - Former Guardian - Alive Baron Jory Marbrand - Current Liege - Alive Vanessa Longridge - Friend - Alive

Character Name Ruawyn Kennyr'Anea (Stardance and Sworn to the Night) Basic Information Nicknames: Rue Age: 94 Gender: Female Race: High Elf Status: Alive, Single, Lost Description Height: 5'11" Weight: Body Type: Soft, not athletic Eyes: Lavender with SILVER Flecks Hair: Silver with gold-tinted ends Skin: Golden-peach Markings/Tattoos: Gold around her eyes, faint gold mark on her forehead. Health: Fair Personality: Quiet, gentle, unsure, secretive Inventory: Food Further Details: Life Style TBA Alignment: Lawful Good Deity: None Religion: None Alliance/Nation/Home Haelun'or Job/Class: Inn Keeper, Farmer, First Class Title(s): Pure Profession(s): Special Skill(s): Singing, cooking Flaw(s): No combat training, Unsteady in her beliefs Magic TBA Current Status: Arch-type: Sub-Type: Rank: Weakness(es): Strength(s): Current Spell(s): Weaponry TBA Fighting Style: Trained Weapon: Favored Weapon: Archery: Biography Born and raised in Haelun'or, Ruawyn has known naught but her own little world within the city-state of her birth. Sheltered and well kept, this fledgling has very little knowledge of the outside world, and when she showed any interest in it, she was (gently) rebuked andredirected. An orphan with no ties to her blood-family, she was well loved by a single male who stood in as her father figure. Strict and old fashioned, he was an ancient male who groomed Ruawyn to be the "model" High Elf female with all intentions to marry her to a well off High Elf male. Music, poetry, general literature and hand crafts such as cooking and sewing were simple, daily lessons for her, all of which she can perform to satisfaction, but with not much joy or skill besides perhaps singing. However, she took an interest on her own in archery and fletching, but has no training in it as her 'Father' refused to tutor her in it. Of the most notable elves in history, Ruawyn holds Iatrilemar in highest regard for his more subtle and gentle approach, and has taken to following in his footsteps with a more open and kind way of thinking. However, it has been tempered by the fear of rebuttal and disdain instilled in her by the dogma of her kind. Ruawyn heard little of the rise of a group known as the Golden Owls and took some interest in them until the whispers of coups and treachery reached her ears. Having no patience for politics that she cannot partake in, she lost interest and turned her gaze inward instead. Ruawyn knows she has some form of magic within herself, but again, went untrained. This time, it was not because her 'Father' forbade it, [in fact he had been ecstatic that she showed any talent for it] but because he passed away before he could take any measures. Orphaned once again, but considered an adult, Ruawyn has no direction and no place to call her own until the Heial'mali sees fit to place her in a new home. Feigning the confidence taught to her so strictly, she is mentally still a stumbling fledgling who hides her true emotions (from disdain to nerves) behind a sweet, calm smile. Stepping out on her own for the first time, she has to decide whether she will remain within the walls of her home, or venture out and perhaps develop a mind, and heart, of her own. Parents: Siblings: Children: Extended Family: Pet(s): History Artwork

Character Name Millosm Lepida Basic Information Nicknames: Milo, Millo Age: 27 (auto age on) Gender: Male Race: Human Status: Alive and Well Description Height: 6 ft Weight: 134 lbs Body Type: Slender build, muscular arms and legs Eyes: Dark Blue Hair: Short, brown hair Skin: Tan Markings/Tattoos: None Health: Physically healthy, mentally ill Personality: Kind, always means well but he tends to become very rude and ill-mannered when he is stressed. Inventory: Wears a satchel on his side if he is not wearing his Ruric Tabard. Further Details: Suffering from schizophrenia and slowly developing multiple personality disorder Life Style Alignment: Chaotic Good Deity: Believes in a single Creator. Religion: He believes in a higher power, does not care enough to put a label on it. Alliance/Nation/Home Lives in the town of Nyrhold, in the county of Lorraine, in the Nation of Oren. He is loyal to the Rurics, but not necessarily to Oren. Job/Class: He is the Ruric’s “most trusted bannerman” Title(s): Profession(s): He is a chef and a woodworker Special Skill(s): Good liar, knows how to get on people’s good side when he needs to, great fighter when he is enraged or defending someone he loves. He is quick and agile on his feet and he makes bad ass pancakes. Flaw(s): Tends to let things go to his head, can get very stressed and angry very easily. When stressed, he does not think things through and he has trouble keeping his thoughts to himself. His mouth will often get him into trouble. He suffers from two voices in his head constantly telling him what to do, and most of the time they do not mean well. When he gets stressed he will sometimes give in to the voices. When he is under this state of mind he has no control of his actions and remembers none of them. The way he acts is dependent on which voice has taken over. If it was Zant, he will act violently towards the ones Millosm loves and will try and get Millosm hurt. If the voice was Vobis, he will do all he can to embarrass Millosm and do his best to humiliate him. Magic None. Weaponry Fighting Style: When he is level headed, he will use his light weight to his advantage, dodging and maneuvering around his opponent until they tire, then he will either tackle and restrain them, or he will target the back of their legs or arms to prevent any further resistance or attack. If he is enraged however, he will swing his sword in frenzied movements with great force. He will attack any vulnerable spot he can find, even if it would kill his opponent should his attack prevail. If he is protecting someone he loves, he will do his best to ignore any wounds inflicting unto him until he either cannot go on further or he has defeated his opponent. Trained Weapon: He has been trained in swordplay with other Ruric Bannermen Biography Parents: His parents’ names are not known to him, however they are both presumed dead. Siblings: None Children: Daia (farfolk, adopted, missing) Extended Family: None History Millosm, Milo for short, was born in The Holy Oren Empire. He grew up poor in the small town of Aegar, but what his parents lacked in wealth, they made up for in love. They always tried to do their absolute best to make him happy, and to keep him ignorant of the harsh outside world. Because of this, he rarely went outside and almost never played with any of the neighborhood children. His father worked hard in the wheat fields outside of town, working from dawn to dusk in an effort to take home as much money as possible. His mother was his primary caretaker, until he reached the age of 10. She was inflicted with a crippling disease that could not be identified by any of the village doctors, and she passed just a few weeks after. His father, although heartbroken, no longer had to work as often as it meant one less mouth to feed. He now came home in time for dinner, and often took a day off once a week. Millosm's old world view, a view in which bad things only happened to bad people, was shattered. The boy who stayed inside, never questioned authority, and kept to himself was gone. He often snuck out while his father was working in an attempt to learn what else he was lied to about. He walked the woods after dark, even when told it was forbidden. He butted into all of his father's personal affairs, and was deemed a "trouble maker." However, the most drastic change of all, was one of his sanity. He felt more alone than ever, and although he actually snuck outside of his house often, he never made any friends. His loneliness was brought to the limit when his father left him at the age of 13 due to a draft for the dwarven war plaguing the land. Millosm began talking to himself frequently, as a way to cope. He would talk to himself during the entirety of tending the fields, something he had to start doing in order to buy food. A few months after his father left, Millosm was given terrible news that his father had disappeared. He was MIA, and presumably dead. Millosm now found it hard to get out of bed, and the conversations between himself were unending. One day, in the midst of telling himself he needed to get out of bed and work, he received an answer back. One within his head. It told him "Milo, just skip the day. They won't notice you're gone. just go back to sleep. You'll thank me for it later." Millosm contributed this to overworking himself, so he went back to sleep. But this didn't stop the voice, who began talking to him during all waking hours. He was a bad role model, always encouraging negative behavior out of Millosm. He informed Millosm that his name was Zant. Millosm got into much more trouble now because of Zant, and he always blamed Zant for when he got into trouble. In Millosm's eyes, Zant was his only friend. That was until he met Bellany. Millosm met her when he was 15. He was sneaking around at night, listening to Zant's urges to find "some nice coin laying around." This always led to stealing, which a fourth of the time would lead to being caught. But Millosm listened to his friend, and began lurking the streets, searching for a cracked window or unlocked door. Whilst creeping along a small house at the edge of town, he heard what sounded like crying, and hitting, followed by a human girl about his age running out the front door. His gut urged him to confront her, while Zant urged him to walk away. Courageously, he talked to her. She wasn't very open at first, until Millosm offered her some fresh bread he had found cooling on a window sill, a fact that he didn't share with her. She spoke of how she had forgotten to sweep the living room floor, which made her father angry. She expressed how he had hit her and told her to come back after she had thought about what she had done. She told Millosm that she had to leave, else father would be upset that she would be taking too long. Millosm met with her the next night however, and this led onto another night, and then another. By the time they were 16, they were in love, and Millosm had stopped his trouble making ways. All he wanted was Bellany, no more answers, no more mischief, just Bellany. He often snuck Bellany out of her house at night so they could spend time together at his house. When they turned 18, Millosm proposed to Bellany, but she wasn't sure of herself. She was afraid her father would interject, forcing her to stay with him. Millosm went with Bellany to confront her father. Her father was furious, and told them that they would never see each other again; when Bellany protested, a fist was slammed into her face. Millosm stared in horror as another fist was slammed into her. Bellany was crying and pleading for her father to stop, but all Millosm could hear was Zant, who was tired of being ignored. He told Millosm one simple thing: Kill him. Zant repeated himself and repeated himself until he was screaming inside Millosm. Kill him! Kill him! Millosm snapped. In a bloody rage, Millosm threw himself onto Bellany's father and began beating him and beating him. Millosm screamed in anger as he pulled out the lucky heirloom his father gave to him before he left for war. It was a jagged, curved knife that Millosm always carried with him. He had never once used it against someone, the only time he ever used is was when he was hungry and needed to peel fruit, or even sometimes as a tool to help with lockpicking when he was younger. But now it was being put to good use. He thrusted the blade into her father repeatedly until there was nothing but a bloody mess. Millosm stared at his blood drenched clothes, horrified to what Zant had seemingly forced him to do, then he looked at Bellany, also covered in her father's blood. In fear of what he might do to Bellany should he snap again, he fled the town immediately. What the authorities would do to him wasn't even on his mind. He just thought of Bellany, and wanted her to be safe from him. He wandered the forests beyond the fields for quite a while, living off the land. But he didn't stay for long. He wanted to be free from Zant, who was nothing but a burden on his mind now. This led him to many places in search of information, The Republic of Sulvis, The Crownlands, and Cloud Temple, where he stayed for several months, learning of new philosophies and ways to control his angry companion. He has picked up many skills in his adventures such as Sword fighting, cooking, and he has learned that kindness towards others keeps tends him out of trouble. Artwork (The following is a disclaimer. I do not own any of this artwork unless stated so, nor do any of these directly depict my character, they are just a guestimate of what he should look like, unless stated otherwise)

__________________________________________________________ Basic Information: Name: Megan Nickname(s): Meg Gender: Female Race: She believed herself to be Human until she started outliving everyone she knew. She found out she was a mix of High and Wood elven blood. Birth: She had amnesia when she was young, so she doesn’t remember much of her childhood, but she suspects she was born around 1541. __________________________________________________________ Further Information: Height: 5’9” Weight: 134 lbs. Body Type: Her frame is rather slender and tall, although short compared to most. She used to have a build of muscle but over the years, she has slimmed down quite a bit. Eyes: Large icy blue eyes veiled by long red eyelashes. Hair: Long red locks that flow down to her upper back. She sometimes has her hair tied up. Scent: She would smell of metal and leather. Markings: She has plentiful amounts of scars on her back and other parts of her body. Special Skills: She basically grew up fighting in the Nortruppen and has become quite skilled at wielding a blade. She also knows self-defense and how to fight, as it was essential and a daily practice as a solider. Equipment: A leaf bladed sword is considered to be her ‘signature’ weapon. However, she doesn’t carry it with her often. It was given to her by her Nortruppen Commander. It is named, “Wolfsong”. Inventory: She wears a particular necklace with her at all times that hangs a small charm at the end of the chain. A translucent blue gem is situated in the center. It is often hidden by clothing. Fears: Although she hates to mention it, she has an extreme fear of storms. Her heart will often race and this fear can escalate into a full-blown panic attack where her body will begin to shake, she will have trouble breathing, and even worse depending on the situation. Philosophy of Life: ”It is my duty to protect my fellow comrades and my most cherished loved ones. I will lay down my life if necessary.” Family: Parents: She nor her twin sister has no memory of their parents, nor does she feel any need to find their identity. She feels that if she can’t remember them, they are of no significance to her. Siblings: ➵Alex - Twin Sister (Whereabouts Unknown) Meg and her sister, Alex, look exactly alike, but act like polar opposites. They fought together while they were in the Nortruppen together, but after the transition from Vailor to Axios, both Alex and Meg's whereabouts have become unknown. Only recently in the realm of Atlas have the twins been spotted. Unfortunately, Meg does not know whether or not her sister is alive. Relationships: Romance: ➵Jon Raven - Ex-Fiancé (Deceased) They knew each other back in their Nortruppen days. Over time, they began to develop feelings for one another and got engaged at a young age. After the fall of the Nortruppen and Seahealm, she has not heard of her love since. She tries to deny the possibility of her Fiancé being dead but deep down she knows that he’s long gone because he was a Human.

꧁ Eryniel Gwaloth ꧂ __________________________________________________________________________________________________ ~General Information~ __________________________________________________________________________________________________ ~Status~ Alive and Healthy. ~Nicknames / Aliases~ Eryn ~ Common Nickname ~Race~ Wood Elf - Mali’ame with traces of Mali’aheral and Human blood. ~Gender~ Female ~Birth~ 27th of Sun’s Smile, 1526 ~Height~ 168 cm. ~Weight~ 50 kg. ~Distinguishable Features~ Her hair has been cut short and large burn scars cover an entire side of her face and a good portion of her right leg. ~Place of Residency~ Irrinor __________________________________________________________________________________________________ ~Personal Information~ __________________________________________________________________________________________________ ~Languages Spoken~ Common ~ Primary Language Ancient Elven ~ Second Language ~Religion~ Aspectism ~Philosophy of Life~ She is willing to put her life on the line for the safety of those she cares for greatly. She values the lives of her closest friends more than her own. ~Personality~ Eryniel carries an everlasting melancholy about her. She seldom ever smiles and when she ever does, it is rather unconvincing and listless. Her gaze seems perpetually distant and solemn. The elf has little tolerance for nonsense and bears an attitude of getting done what must be done. She is a cold woman, but can open up over time to be a little bit warmer with the people she cares for. She is also very selective with the people she allows into her life. ~Flaws~ Eryn has difficulty trusting others. She can also be hot-tempered and has a tendency to be too quick to violence. ~Inventory~ Eryniel is always equipped with an elven blade and a dagger for practical combat. If she knows she is heading into battle she will bring along a bow, as it is her preferred weapon of choice. Eryn keeps a book full of intricate and unique armor and weapon designs that contain various styles of ranged and melee weapons. This had became a hobby of hers after her uncle had designed a bow for her and gifted it to her on her fifth birthday. It was her first bow and had became the start of a newfound talent. Her uncle tried his best to teach Eryn everything he knew, despite not being the best himself. Like her mother, she was exceptionally talented with the bow. She has been able to keep the bow in great condition after so many years, even after the incident which had caused her to bear her scar. Eryn even managed to keep the bow after the transitions from Vailor to Axios and from Axios to Atlas. The bow has a great emotional significance to her and even though she is rarely ever seen with it, she does keep it safely hidden and protected. Unfortunately, since the incident, she could never be the type of archer that she had always wished to be. The burn scar leaves her nearly blind in one eye, her dominant left eye. Not only that, she is cross-dominant, meaning that she is dominant in her right hand. This causes a huge disadvantage in archery where one side of the body is used to aim and shoot. Not only does she like to conjure up various weapon designs, but she also likes to study battle-tactics and the differences in the ways of how the other races in the realm fight and use weapons that are more typical to their specific race. The history, cultures, and languages of the other races fascinates her as well. The bow that was gifted to her by her uncle is very unique. It is adorned with feathers, straw, string, carvings, and much more. Funnily enough, it was made using scraps of various things found on his farm. The feathers that are delicately tied onto the handle has some emotional significance. It was Eryniel’s first kill using the bow. It was tied onto the bow after she had successfully hunted and killed a fair sized bird to later eat that night. A couple feathers were saved and used to decorate the bow. The usability and durability of the bow is a bit questionable, but it has much significance behind it. It is now the only piece of her Uncle that Eryn has to remember him by. ~Special Skills~ Due to living on a farm as a child, she now knows a lot to successfully growing crops and raising livestock. She is by no means as talented as the Halflings when it comes to farming, but she wouldn’t mind learning a couple of techniques from them one day. She also knows a bit when it comes to smithing, fletching, and making weapons and armor in general. She is nowhere near as skilled as the dwarves, but she wishes to learn more of the art of smelting and shaping blades and the like. __________________________________________________________________________________________________ ~Physical Attributes~ __________________________________________________________________________________________________ ~Body~ She is pretty agile due to her thin and slim body. She has a wiry strength. ~Hair~ Short, wavy locks of dark red hair that is sometimes tied into a very small ponytail. ~Skin~ Her skin is lighter than the usual wood elf due to having a family history of human and a bit of high elven blood. For the most part, though, she is primarily a wood elf. She also has little specks of freckles that cover her body. ~Eyes~ Seaweed green eyes. ~Clothing~ __________________________________________________________________________________________________ ~Other~ __________________________________________________________________________________________________ ~Likes / Dislikes~ Liked Beverages: Eggnog Liked Foods: Potatoes Liked Colors: Dark Green Liked Flora: Elderwood Liked Fauna: No particular favorite Other Likes: Nature, Culture, Language Disliked Beverages: Carrot Juice Disliked Foods: Mushroom Stew Disliked Colors: Hot Pink Disliked Flora: Cerridwen’s Curse Disliked Fauna: Basilisk Other Dislikes: Fooling around, Small talk ~Important Relations~ Name: Amonia Type of Relationship: Mother Details: Eryniel has no memory of her mother because her parents had mysteriously disappeared after leaving Eryn in the care of her maternal uncle. Eryniel was told by her uncle that she had inherited Amonia’s exceptional archery skills. Eryniel sometimes wishes that Amonia had never left, but then again, she never knew what her mother was like in the first place. Name: Erusirdil Type of Relationship: Father Details: Eryniel has no memory of her father because her parents had mysteriously disappeared after leaving Eryn in the care of her maternal uncle. Eryniel was told by her uncle that she had inherited much of Erusirdil’s physical traits. Sadly, she doesn’t feel as much of a loss for her father as for her mother due to having another father figure growing up. She still does wonder how things would be different if they never have left her. Name: Glanar Type of Relationship: Maternal Uncle/Guardian Details: After her parents’ disappearance, Glanar raised Eryniel on his farm where she was later taught basic combat and how to raise a farm. Glanar acted as the father figure Eryniel didn’t have. He later died in a fire incident, which was also when Eryn was given her burn scars. ~Further Information~ She has never had a mother figure and thus, generally acts more boyish because she has been exposed to more manlier mannerisms her whole childhood. Eryn will never be able to experience what it’s like to have a mother figure in her life, and will always feel that void and emptiness of not having one. Because she has never had a mother, she has trouble projecting affection as strongly and as often as most would. Secretly, she worries whether or not she will be a good mother in the future. Even though she doesn’t want to admit it, she feels a bit of resentment towards her parents for leaving her in the first place with no explanation. She, in a way, blames them for the terrible things that occurred during her childhood. Eryniel also had a fear of fire for a long time after the incident. She now has a deep respect for fire and the damage it could cause if not handled properly. Eryn has learned to accept what had happened in the past and move on instead of letting her past memories haunt her for the rest of her life. The scar on her face is a symbol of how she has grown to be the person she is today. After the incident, she was left to wander the streets alone. Eryn later befriended a human girl, Abigail Windsor, and was able to take refuge in her adoptive father’s hold located on Dwarven lands. There, she met a mixed dark elven / snow elven servant boy and befriended him as well. A while passes and the residents were forced to abandon the hold, thus leaving Eryn homeless once more. Not once did she think about returning back to her own people’s land, as she still felt she was not ready to go back. She spent the rest of her childhood growing up in various Human cities, with Abigail and the once servant boy, Lylion Khainlen, by her side. Over time, their friendship had changed. Lylion’s mental health had started becoming questionable, but Eryniel had not thought twice of cutting the relationship off as he and Abi were her only friends growing up. And, after having lost someone important to her, she couldn’t bear to lose more. As a consequence, she and Abi were emotionally and physically abused and later forced to be his slaves, where more intense physical abuse had ensued. He had even managed to beat Abi enough to where she suffered retrograde amnesia. Fortunately, Abi and Eryn worked together to escape and permanently cut Lylion from their lives forever. Unfortunately, her relationship with Lylion had drastically affected Eryn and led her to have serious trust issues. It may also be the cause of her short-temperedness and how she is much more quick to violence than most. The fire incident from long ago had not only caused her to lose her only remaining relative, but also led her to bear her burn scars for the rest of her life. To this day, she still sometimes experiences flashbacks. During her sleep, the nightmares will frighten her back to consciousness, which makes sleep difficult for her. It is not rare to see Eryniel with dark circles under her eyes from lack of sleep, though nowadays it does not occur as often. She hates reliving that night, as it brings her much pain to do so.

General information Full name: Elvira Mantisuku nee Naromis (formally Terryal.) (Pronounced as ‘El-vee-ra Tear-ree-al’) (Prefers to use Elvi .) Name meaning: Elvira means ‘Truth, white or beautiful’. Ernestina means ‘serious or determined’. Naromis means ‘One with fire/flames’. Her old surname (Terryal) means ‘Reaper’. Nickname(s): Elvi (A common nickname she uses as her name – pronounced as 'El-vee'.) Buttons. Barkeep. Elli (by Ray). El (by Beth.). Vivi. Race: Half elf. (Half high elf, half human.) Status: Alive Description Weight: 190ilbs Height: 5’4ft Body build: Elvira is a slightly thin and small woman, her body figure is mostly smooth and a little curvy with a slightly flat chest (although she is growing). Her arms and legs are thin, although she should not be underestimated due to being a little strong despite her appearance. Shape of face: Elvira’s face is thin but smooth, she has a roundish chin and high cheekbones. Her nose and ears are average sized while her eyebrows are a little thin. Her lips are smooth and average sized, capable of becoming a soft and gentle smile. Diseases/illnesses: Although unseen, Elvira is infertile, meaning she cannot have any children. However, this was not caused because she may have an elven family member, this was caused when she received a mass amount of electricity through her body during her past. The electricity had damaged her reproductive system, leaving her incapable of bearing children. When Elvira discovered this, she was devastated. Skin tone and accessories (tattoos, scars, etc) : White. Half of her face and both her hands are noticeably scarred from electricity, although now faintly scarred due to Ramza healing them to a better condition. She also has a huge scar that covers the whole of her back (skinned off by Lorien) which causes one or two small pains to her. The scar on the left side of her cheek (earned during bandit attack on her parents.) is no longer noticeable. Eye colour: A vivid green that seems to be filled with calmness and peace. Hair: Elvira’s hair is a fair blond colour, her hair is straight, also silky and soft to touch. Her hair tends to reach her waist, her fringe rests on the right side of her face. Currently, her hair is tied into a braided ponytail. Outfits: Normal outfit: A grey sleeveless shirt, covered by a white coat with gold lining and a hood. Dark grey trousers are on her legs and she wears white boots on her feet. She was one belt going around her waist, then two other belts that are crossing over her waist, keeping two small bags by her sides. A sheath is behind her, and a shield is mostly on her left arm. Armour: A blood red coat that covers a white tunic and black trousers. Above the coat, she wears a ferrum chestplate, shoulderplates, and vambraces. Around her waist is one belt going around her waist, while two other belts crossover each other. A tasset is over her waist while she wears armoured boots. Jewellery or accessories: Goggles – A pair of brass and thick leathered Alchemist goggles given to Elvi by Ser Dorian, a fatherly figure and friend of hers, before he died. It is Elvi's most prized possession. However, these goggles were eventually destroyed by Rajin Aetos when he tortured Elvi. Beth Rilann made Elvi a new pair but she only seems to wear them during Alchemy. Thick leather gloves – A pair of leather gloves that Elvi carries around with her, tends to wear them when gathering dangerous Alchemy symbols (ingredients.) Amethyst necklace – A necklace that was within the bundle that held Elvi when she was only a baby, the necklace is the only thing that Elvi has that of her parents. Diamond earrings - A pair of diamond earrings given to Elvi by Beth Rilann. Emerald bracelet - A single aurum bracelet with three emeralds. Given to her by Arradin Riff. Red scarf - A neatly made red scarf that smells of fresh herbs and roses - Elvi’s favourite smell. According to Elvi, this was a gift from Gris as her birthday was approaching at that time. This was eventually taken by Rajin Aetos but it seems as though Elvi may have got it back. Inventory: Shoulderbag - A bag that Elvira carries, it contains many pieces equipment from knives to jars. She also holds some potions and herbs in there, as well as a book and some food. Vials on belt - Elvira has some vials filled with potions on her waist, making them easy for her to reach and pull out. Personality Elvira is a calm and more mature woman. In most situations, she seems able to keep calm and can tolerate most behaviours. Aside from being calm, Elvira is kind and gentle, willing to lend a hand to anyone who is in need of aid or if they require her assistance. She is extremely loyal to her friends, willing to come to their aid and stand by their side although she will break this loyalty if she truly needs to. However, she shows a lot of loyalty and dedication to her duty as a cleric, understanding her duty comes first before all. She is patient, allowing people time and she can wait. Aside from this, Elvira is confident and more mature, she knows the right from wrong, when to act and how to act. She does not allow herself to be controlled by others and will fight if she has to. However, Elvira isn't the best at making decisions, she is too afraid that a single decision she makes can cause a large negative effect to not just her, but to others. In other terms, Elvira hates changes to others. Additionally, Elvira is still a little sensitive about her past, almost unwilling to talk about it and would stiffen a little at the mention of it. Lastly, Elvira may seem calmer now but her anger still lingers, but not at a large rate. This anger is small but if pushed too far, Elvira may eventually bring this anger back up. Life Style Alignment*: Neutral good. Deity*: Tahariae Religion: Doesn’t really follow a religion but does follow the cleric traditions. Alliance/Nation/Home: Aeroch’Nor. Destati Isle (Base of the Curatrix) Job/Class: Alchemist and Cleric. Title(s): 'Bartender of the Drunken Monk' - Has this title when she worked at the Drunken Monk Tavern during Athera. 'Mentor Alchemist' - Earned this title when she became an official Alchemist and could teach others. 'Chef' - A self-given title due to Elvi's good cooking skills. 'Tea Master' - A self given title that Elvi once proclaimed she had earned due to making some surprisingly good tea for a customer. 'The Flirter' - Turns out Elvi is learning one or two flirting lessons from Guarger. ‘Curatrix Cleric’ - A title that shows she is a Cleric of the Curatrix, Ramza’s order. Profession(s): Alchemist and cleric. Strength(s): Cooking - Elvi is shown to be a surprisingly good cook, being able to make the finest bread and soup around. She is also good at creating her own new recipes, such as a combination of Desert Bush Berries and strawberries in a drink and a pancake with a mixed berry topping. Ser Dorian had taught Elvi how to cook, stating to her that - "Alchemy and cooking are more alike than we think: We must prepare the symbols and ingredients and make sure we find the right ingredients to use to make the potion or dish a successful piece of work. Cooking is a preparation to make an Alchemist ready to prepare ingredients when the time comes.' - Ser Dorian. Alchemy - Ever since being trained by Daniel Nodal, Elvi has shown she is quite a skilled Alchemist. She tends to make mistakes rarely and she is skilled when it comes to preparing symbols (thanks to Ser Dorian teaching her how to cook). When questioned about what the four elements could represent, Elvi gave a few well chosen replies. How she remembers the representations is by: "Imagine each element as a person: Fire would be someone who is destructive and full of anger, yet warmth and love. Water would be someone who is balanced and focuses on healing, and one who is needed most in Alchemy (Bases). Earth would be someone strong, powerful and enduring, yet someone who enjoys life and agriculture. Lastly, Air would be someone who is fast and excellent at travelling, also full of intelligence and knowledge.' - Elvi. Fighting - A skill Elvi earned from a mix of surviving on her own, being taught by Ser Dorian, and a range of other people.. Elvi has shown to be skilled at using a sword and shield, often using the two in a good combination. She also uses her small size and speed to gain the upper-hand through quick thrusts and stabs then dodging. Elvi takes great pride in her fighting, despite that she never uses it against another person unless truly necessary. Drawing - Elvi doesn't tend to draw often but she is quite good at doing sketches. She tends to sketch out anything she needs to remember the appearance of, such as Alchemy symbols or someone who looks fairly suspicious. She doesn't tend to show her drawings to other people. Assisting others - Although not one to lead, Elvi is someone who can assist in helping. She will immediately get something someone needs and can remain somewhat calm if the situation is dire. She does her very best not to mess up. Flaw(s): Decision making - Elvi is shown to not be very good at decision making, being unable to tell the wrong from right. Her poor decision making even led her close to gaining a dark magic but with the help of Daniel and Guarger, she realised her mistake and immediately stopped herself. However, Elvi is gradually becoming better at making decisions and making the right choices. Using two-handed swords - Although excellent with sing a rapier, Elvi is not good when it comes to using two-handed swords. The swords are mostly too heavy or Elvi isn't use to wielding a sword with both hands. According to Elvi, she prefers to use one-handed swords and use her other hand to keep her stance balanced or to block any incoming blows. She especially prefers if the sword is light and thin, allowing her to be fast and swift. Swimming - Elvi is fairly good at swimming in shallow water but when it comes to deep water, it's a different story. Elvi begins to panic badly when he feet leave the ground, leaving it up to someone to help her or for herself to quickly get back to shallow water. However, Elvi seems to be slowly overcoming this fear, especially when it came to the Athin lesson with Daniel. Not losing her temper - Elvi has a habit of losing her temper once or twice with her allies. This could leave her in a mood for a little bit or make her lose her anger completely, meaning she may accidentally harm someone. There have been times where Elvi has killed someone due to losing her anger. Elvi is, however, attempting to gain control over her anger and become much calmer through meditating. A little uneducated - Due to her past Elvi is quite uneducated. However, Ser Dorian had taught Elvi most things she needs to know, such as how to survive, cook, use items and so on. However, Elvi isn't that educated on the history of the wars and events of before, and she isn't good with other languages. Thankfully, she can read and write. Hobbies: Cooking, Alchemy, travelling, reading, relaxing, meditating, being with friends and allies, drawing and sleeping. Plays a musical instrument? Elvi knows how to play the flute, sometimes playing it when bored. How she would spend a rainy day: Mostly in the tavern, serving customers. If not, most likely reading, sleeping or meditating, or creating potions. Spending habits: Elvi tends to be good when it comes to saving minas. She tends to think carefully about what she wants to buy and considers whenever or not something is worth the price it is being sold at. Smokes: Elvi doesn’t smoke, she explains that it can damage her body and she doesn’t enjoy the smell some pipes give off. Drinks: Elvi, although not a drinker herself, has had one or two glasses of alcohol before. However, she once had a drinking contest where she lasted eight mugs before eventually falling asleep. Needless to say, she didn’t enjoy vomiting all the alcohol up repeatedly. Elvi stated that she prefers wine more than ale and mead. Other drugs: None. What does she do too much of: Being the worried type of person, getting angry, stressing out, dwelling in the past. What does she do too little of: Being calm, relaxed and looking more towards the future. Extremely skilled at: Cooking and fighting. Extremely unskilled at: Not losing her temper. Magic Current Status: Training. Arch-type: Cleric Priest Healing (Light is silver with a red tint to it) Sub-Type: N/A Rank: Tier 4. Weakness(es): Low Mana pool (8% less). Strength(s): Elvira can easily get use to using a magic, and can get quite creative with her magic if she wishes to do so. Current Spell(s): None so far. Note: Elvira used to use fire magic until she was connected. She understands how fire magic works, knows how to teach it, and also how connecting to the void can affect someone. Weaponry Fighting Style: Elvira's fighting style revolves the use of the Flowing Sun martial art, taught to her by Meta and Neci. At the start of the fight, Elvira doesn’t immediately use this art, instead, she simply slices, stabs, and blocks to test her opponent, see how strong they are and determine if she should use the art on them. If she does use the art, she mostly uses two of the four stances - Wild Inferno: Fire Stance, and Dance of the Gale: Wind Stance. She uses the wind stance in order to swiftly approach her opponent, before unleashing a hail of vicious attacks with the fire stance, then quickly falling back into the wind stance to widen the distance between her and her opponent. She doesn’t use the other two stances (Terra's Embrace: Earth Stance and Calming Tide: Water Stance) often but will fall into using them if she needs to block an incoming attack, or if she needs to become calm and more reliant on natural instinct. Additionally, Elvira uses Alchemy in combat. She keeps a range of speed, strength and any other potion that may enable her to gain the upperhand in a fight. However, Elvira uses these potions as a pure last resort, as drinking them will extremely exhaust her and may even break a bone or a muscle due to her body not fully being adapted to survive the speed, weight, etc. She tends to try and keep her distance at first when throwing potions or applying them to other weapons. Pros in combat: Speed as she is small and quite light on her feet, dodging since she is quite flexible and finds it easier to try and dodge than block, wearing a very small amount of armour in order to allow more movement and becoming light. Cons in combat: Strength as Elvira isn’t fully muscle and not strong enough to do some powerful strikes, blocking as she tends to struggle keeping grasp of her sword and also blocking powerful blows (hence why she bears the shield), wearing a very small amount of armour will make her more vulnerable to attacks and easier to take down. Trained Weapon: Sabre and knife. Favored Weapon: Rapier: An aurum rapier that was crafted and enhanced for Elvira during her time recovering from a poltergeist attack. Paranoid that she would be attacked again, she became nervous about heading back outside. In order to held her, Guarger forged the aurum rapier for her, before Abluson enhanced the rapier so that fire engulfs the blade when Elvira commands it to. Since then, Elvira has recovered from the attack and now keeps the rapier, in case she needs to face against a ghost or any creature weak against aurum. The rapier’s name is Rugna (meaning ‘flames’). Marked on the blade are the words: ‘Nightmares don’t last.’ How Elvira activates the enchantment is by saying ‘Curvia amis rugna (‘Awaken my flames’). Elvira was taught how to wield a rapier previously by Ser Dorian Naromis. Image of rapier Sabre: The main weapon that Elvi uses. The sabre she has is a double edged sabre made from a metal that the Doomforge clan are good at using. The sabre’s name is Pura'Lux (means ‘Pure light’). Image of sabre Aurum knife: A knife Elvi carries mostly to handle ghosts and dark beings Archery: Elvi is somewhat good at archery, although not as accurate as some people. Family Mother: Unknown. Relationship with her: Elvira’s mother is either alive or dead. However, Elvira does not remember what she looks like and such. Father: Mr Terryal. (Deceased) Relationship with him: Elvi’s father died during a bandit attack on a trip to Polaris with his wife. Elvi does not remember her father clearly but does remember his eyes being similar to hers. Siblings: None. Relationship with them: N/A Spouse: N/A Relationship with him/her: N/A Children: N/A Relationship with them: N/A Other important family members: N/A Pet(s): Ventus the Mountain Kestrel. Aithne the Desert Kestrel. Four Kestrel hatchlings. Relationship with pet(s): Elvira and Ventus have a very close bond as Ventus knew Elvira from the moment he was born. His coven was attacked by a group of hawks, leaving his egg left alone but close to hatching. Thankfully, Elvira, Ser Dorian and Gris were nearby and discovered the egg, which Elvi looked after. Since then, the two have been inseparable. Elvira is protective over Ventus, and vise-versa, and she is mostly seen stroking the bird or having him on her shoulder. However, recently, Ventus has passed away from defending his nest from a group of hawks, Elvira now looks after his mate, Aithne, and their four hatchlings Others Role: Elvira is more of the teacher and guardian at times, she ensures others are taught things they may to know, and ensures that they are safe. However, there may be times where she’ll have to take charge of a situation Symbol: Elvira’s symbol, or Naromis symbol, is what she uses to show if something belongs to her. It is a tribal fire with white and grey on the inside, while red on the outside. This symbol is mostly seen on anything written or made by Elvi. Vice:Wrath - Seeing that she is easy to anger at times, Wrath would be Elvi’s vice. Virtue: Kindness. Theme song: Battle theme: History Artwork Before Rajin's attack After Rajin's attack

Shall I tell you a story? The story of a man? The story of Duncan Darkwood. I have to warn you, it isn’t a happy story. Chapter 1: Childhood I was born in Abresi, a city in the Holy Oren Empire. Born into the Darkwood family made everyone expect me to become a soldier, a soldier like my father, but I never truly understood soldiering. My mom I have never known, my dad used to tell me that she died at young age, within a year after I was born. My father raised me, well, he raised me until I was ten years old. We had a quiet life, nothing special, but the day he left me, is the day my life changed. It was already getting dark. My dad wanted to take me to Felsen. It was my first time, the first time my dad took me somewhere else than the woods outside Abresi. We sat in the wagon, just the two of us and the dwarf that took us there. After a couple of hours the wagon stopped. I heard the dwarf say that we were to be in the wagon. It was all quiet, quiet until the scream of the dwarf. My father rushed out, but didn’t get far. Just outside the wagon stood an elf, a high elf to be exact. He had a hood over his head, but it didn’t conceal his face, a face that I would never forget, a face that would haunt me in my dreams. The elf grabbed my father, turned him around to face me. “Run, Duncan, run,” is all he said to me before the elf slit his throat. My father’s blood spat all over me as his lifeless body fell to the ground. I knew what I had to do. I ran, I ran for the woods, ran away from everything. I was glad for the things my father thought me. He taught me how to hunt, he taught me how to survive in the woods, but he didn’t teach me how to handle the death of a beloved one. I grieved for weeks at an end, but I managed to pull myself together. I returned to the wagon and noticed that the entire place was robbed. The wagon itself was gone, the dwarf lied dead on the ground, stripped of any personal belonging, and my father was tossed away like a piece of garbage. Everything stolen from him. I just lied there at the edge of the road naked, throat slit and his dead eyes staring at me. From that moment forth I promised myself to never trust a high elf ever again and take the life of the murderer myself. I followed the road back to Abresi. I have been away for a couple of months and when I came back I saw that my old house was sold. They assumed we died and now someone else lived there. Luckily for me, an old friend saw me, and recognized me. He brought me home, gave me food and shelter, and in return I provided food. I hunted in the woods, sometimes for more than weeks in one go to get us some meat to eat. I learned how to use a bow rather good and how to kill like a professional. At the age of sixteen I left Abresi, I left that home in search of my father’s killers. I lived on the roads, trying to find the elf that killed him. I killed a few, thinking they were the right person, but when I came closer to the body I noticed that it wasn’t. After nearly a year of wandering the roads, I came across a dwarf. His name was Wolfos Ironaxe and he lived in a dwarven city with a name I cannot remember. He offered to help me, train me in a few things. I remember when he first brought me into the city. A dark, underground city, illuminated by torches and lava. It was both intimidating and majestic. It was the most beautiful thing I ever saw. At entrance we first entered the market area, going through here we entered the resident area. Houses carved out of the wall, and in the middle of the area was a big hole that reached into the depths of this world. He brought me into his home, a rather small house. For two years he taught me how to create weapons, so I could make my own when I need to. Chapter 2: The rebirth After those two years Wolfos came in trouble with some kind of cleric, or wizard, he might even been a necromancer, we didn't know. I tracked him down and once we knew where he was, we went for him. He lived somewhere in the wild, talking to the dead and looking into the netherworld. We saw him and crept closer. Ready to kill I made y bow ready to fire, but he turned around and looks me dead in the eye. What happened after this I don’t know. Everything went black for me and when I woke up the entire world had changed. I was stripped of all my belongings; I had nothing left but my clothes. I came across some monks, they gave me some money and bread so I would survive, but I didn’t know where to go, or where I was. They told me to follow a road, and after a week of walking I stumbled upon a ruin. A city abandoned, so quiet that I decided to search for food and shelter. I stayed there for a couple of days until I decided to move, to continue to follow the road. A day later I saw a grand city, half in ruins, but populated. I went into the city and quickly learned that it was full of criminals. The guards aren’t with enough to handle it and within a few hours I was a witness of murder. I saw how a bandit killed someone in his home, and then how the guard had to kill the murderer. Then they went for me. They drove me into a corner, but they didn’t attack. “What’s with your bloodshed eyes?” the guard asked. I was confused. “Bloodshed eyes?” “Yes, bloodshed eyes. Your eyes are as red as the blood on my blade,” the guard said. “I don’t know what you mean,” I said confused, “My eyes are blue, not red.” “They are red,” the guard said, “better watch out with those eyes, in these times you can get killed for it.” Then, a man jumped in between us. “Guard, I’ll handle this,” he said as he gestured me to follow him. He took me to some place remote, where no-one could hear us. “I can give you a place to live,” he said. I was confused, why would he help me. “You see, I am not a man of the law. And by the looks of it, neither are you.” This was true. I killed, I stole, and I didn’t give a damn about others that I don’t call my friend. “Where do you live?” I asked him. “On an island near Salvus. Most of it is being constructed now, but soon we will have enough residents to begin our own little state,” he said with determination. I gladly accepted and followed him to the island. There he told me that his name was Daekra ‘Frost’ Solli’gra, or Lord Daekra ‘Frost’ Solli’gra, as it is now. I also met his long-lost brother, Egamir ‘Ironhelm” Solli’gra, Daekra’s lady Aria d’lamor and a friend of his Elijah. Now I am loyal to Daekra only. My work? I help Daekra in any way possible. As for the rest, the only thing you should know is that I provide certain services for certain people in need. Chapter 3: The demon “Who am I?” “Where am I?” “My head is pounding.” I look around me but only see darkness, then a memory flashes through me. “I remember… It’s the abyss, the spiritual plain.” I stand up from the dusty ground and look around me. “Who does it look so dark and empty?” I started to walk around. Slowly, I see something before me, like an vision. “What is this? The living world?” A pain shoots through my head. I grab my head and fall to my knees. “What is this pain!? Why does it hurt so much?” Another memory flashes through my head. “I…. I was a watcher… I watched the world of the living… Studied it…” The pain starts to get more intense, and I, as if I can’t handle it anymore, scream. I fall forwards, stretching one arm before me stopped me from falling on my face, the other still holds my head. “The world of the living… What did they do? Crusades? They killed one another for their believes.” I open my eyes and see my arm and hand in front of me. “Why is my skin black… why does it look like some thick smoke?” I let myself fall to my side, curling up in some kind of ball, trying to stop the pain in my head. “I’m… I’m a spirit. A daemon the living called me… The root of evil.” The pain gets more intense again, like it comes in pulses, pulses that get stronger over time. “Why? What is going on? I don’t understand.” I keep lying there. No one around me, nowhere to go. It’s just me, and no one else. It’s so silent. “Daemon, state your name!” a voice broke through the silent. I look up, searching for the origin, but there is no one to be found. “Daemon, who are you?” the voice asks again. It seems like it is coming from all around me, as if it is everywhere, or is it just in my head? “Who are you? Where are you?” I yell into the empty plains. “My name does not concern you, but your misery does concern me,” the voice answers. “My misery? What are you talking about?” I say as I start to get angry, “who are you to think you can say such things!” “I’m your only chance on freedom, your only chance to stop what you hate the most.” I’m confused. What I hate the most? This doesn’t make any sense. “Your hate against religions. I can help you stop it,” the voice echoes through my head. The pain in my head returns, bringing me to my knees once again. I start to remember again. “Religions… The crusades… I… I remember. The crusades, killing one another for their believes. Killing innocent people, and justifying it… They scar the landscape… I hate it. I hate what they do. It can’t be justified, it has to stop or there will be no one left…,” I say to myself as I stand up again, “I remember. I remember watching the world of the living for decades at an end. I remember how my hate grew against it.” “Good, good,” the voice says, “now, I offer you a possibility to act.” I’m still confused. Why would someone help a daemon? “Why help me, A daemon?” “Because I also can use your help. I’ve been watching you for a long time now, and I need you.” This starts to get interesting. “What is it you want?” I ask the voice. An entity forms before me, an entity made out of smoke, just like me, but then white. It looks like one of those humans, one with a large beard and long robes. His eyes seem black. “I’ll open a rift, a way into the world of the living,” the voice spoke very clearly, “I need you to manifest yourself into the body of someone.” “And what happens afterwards?” I asked the human, making sure I wouldn’t be soul bound to him. “Nothing,” the voice answered, “after that you’re free to go. Free to go wherever you want, do whatever you want. I don’t care.” I still didn’t completely trust him. “Why would I help a human?” “Because I offer you freedom in return for one simple thing.” This offer is very appealing. If it’s true, I would take the chance. “I accept your offer,” I say. The human brings his hands together, creating an echoing sound. “Then the deal has been made. Wait here, a rift shall open up soon. The human’s entity fades away before my eyes. I hold my hand in front of me, looking at my dark, long fingers. “Why can’t I remember my name?” I have a lot of questions, and not a lot of answers, but I remember my hatred, and I shall make it my quest. I lie down on the ground again. “I hope this is worth it.” A bright light wakes me up. Looking up from the ground I see the entity again. “It’s time,” it says as he opens a rift underneath him. I stand up, walk towards the rift and look through it. There I see two persons. One dwarf, long bearded and with an axe in his hand. The other is a human. He has blue eyes, a Mohawk as haircut, black robes and carries a large knife. “Which of the two am I supposed to take care of?” I ask the entity. “Take down the human, and the dwarf will follow.” I look down again, towards the human. I study him for a moment before I jump down, towards him. I open my eyes, and the only thing I see is black, black all around me. It’s completely empty, but I am not alone. I can feel it. “Who’s here?” a voice asks. It’s a different voice then from the human who brought me here. “Who are you?” I yell into nothingness, “show yourself.” Underneath my feet, grass starts to grow. Around me, trees start to appear. Animals come from behind trees, giving life to this empty place. The sky turns from black to blue. “What is this magic? What are you doing?” “This is no magic,” the voice says again, “this is called the power of the mind.” He doesn’t make any sense. How could he forge an entire world with his mind only, and make it real. “You see,” the voice continues, “we are now inside my mind. I used to visit this place a lot, learned how to control it, how to forge it, but now you’re here, it seems that we’re stuck.” “So we are inside you mind? Then why won’t you show yourself?” I say. “Just turn around and you’ll see me.” I turn around in a quick spin, almost losing my balance at the sight of a few hundred meters drop. I look around and see that I am standing at the top of a building, near the edge of the roof. I look forwards and see there, about fifty meters away from me, a man standing at the edge of another roof. It’s the human again, the one I saw through the rift. “Welcome to my mind,” he says, “why are you here?” I look at him a little confused. How is he not afraid of me? How can a simple human not fear me, a daemon? I see that the human begins to form a small smile in the corner of his mouth as he lets himself fall to over the edge of the building. I look over the edge down, but notice that he is nowhere to be seen, like he disappeared. Then, a voice from behind me says: “Because this is my mind.” It somehow scared me and I jumped forward, away from the voice and as I look behind me, I notice that this time we are inside a throne room, and I’m not falling to my death. I see the human standing there, in the middle of the room, and I stand before him. “You know where this is?” the human asks. I look around, but can’t seem to recognize it. “This is the throne room of Abresi,” the human says, “this is where I got thrown away like trash after asking for my father’s belongings after he got killed. “Why would I return the belongings of that deserter, Marcus Darkwood, to his son?” a voice said from behind me. I turn around and see that the throne room is filled with guards, a king and a child. The king stands before his throne as the child kneels before him, almost begging for what belongs to him. “My father is not a deserter,” the child says, almost crying, “He was an honest man who fought for his king. Now he is killed on the roads and you won’t even give me his belongings.” “Take him away,” the kings says as he motions with his hand that the child must leave, “I don’t have time for this nonsense.” Two guards move from the group and grab the child each by one arm, and drag him away. The child kicks and screams a bit, but it’s not too much for the guards to handle. “What is happening here?” I ask as the people fade away from my sight. “My memories,” the human says, “You want to be in my head, so I show you the suffering I’ve had” “So you’re the kid?” The human nods as he turns around. I follow him and notice that we reached a new location again. This time we’re in a wagon, sitting across from a man and the child again. “Daddy, are we there yet?” the child asks. “Not yet, Duncan,” the man says as he pets the kid on his head. The child smiles. “See him,” the human says as he points to the man, “that’s my father.” I look at the man, but notice that his face is quite vague. “I can’t remember his face anymore. This is my last happy memory of him.” I was confused, not understanding what he tried to say with that, but I got my answer rather quickly. The wagon suddenly stopped after the sound of a scream. The door of the wagon is being opened and a high elf stands behind it, his face perfectly visible. He grabs the father by his shoulders and tears him out of the wagon. He lands on the ground, his face and clothing covered in mud. “Where’s the money,” the elf asks. “We don’t have any money on us,” the father answers, shivering with his entire body and voice. The elf straightens up to order the other elves to search the wagon. At that moment the father kicks the elf in his legs and jumps to the wagon. With his head and torso inside, a hand from behind grabs him by his head, and another appears with a knife near his throat. “Run, Duncan, run,” the father says before his throat is slit open, spewing the blood over the child. The child dashes forward, running of into the woods. The human steps out of the wagon, and I follow him. We didn’t chance scenery this time. We were still in his memory, only the objects have been moved. “I stayed in those woods for a few weeks,” the human continues, “I mourned, tried to process what happened, but I never got over it. I still carry my hatred against elves with me, and it won’t fade away.” I stayed quiet, listening to his words knowing that I get an inside sight of this person’s memories, his feelings and emotions. I try to learn as much as possible, so perhaps I can use it against him. The child returned from the forest. His clothes a little ripped and dirty, but the child is alive. He walked over to the bodies, to his fathers and kneels down before it. Tears erupt from his eyes as he closes his father’s. “This is my last memory of my father,” the human says. I nod, but then notice the face of the father. It is very clear. His death looking eyes, his broken has and ripped open throat. It is all perfectly visible. The child stands up and walks away. “What happened after this?” I ask the human. “You’ve already seen that. I lost everything,” he said. He grabbed me by the back of my head and pushed my down into the ground, but instead of hitting the ground, I stood back up again and stand in the middle of a living room. There is a women, a man, and three children. One of them is Duncan. “An old friend of mine told his mom what happened. Shortly after they took me into the house,” Duncan said. Behind me a door opened and a woman of about sixteen years of age walked in, with a man of about the same age behind her. The man looked a bit like Duncan, but the woman I did not recognize. “I fell in love with the daughter of this family,” the human said, “I taught her hunting, survival, and climbing. She taught me how to love, smile and how to have joy in my life again.” “What’s her name?” I ask him. “Zatoxia,” he said as tears form in his eyes, “I can still feel her soft skin on my hands, her lips on mine and her soft red hair between my fingers.” “What happened?” I ask him. “Turn around.” I turn around and see the family in a fight. They are screaming and yelling about everything and nothing. The door opens, Duncan walks in the room and everything is quiet. Zatoxia walks in after him. They seem sad. The mother walks up to them. “You demon!” she says with anger, fear, and sadness in her voice, “How could you let this happen? How could you let little Marc die?” Duncan just puts his bow against the wall and walks past the people, upstairs to his room. Zatoxia sighs and walks after him. I see the human turn around and I follow him, noticing that I enter a room, with Duncan sitting on a bed. He seems sad, but no tears will roll over his cheeks. “The youngest son of the family died,” the human said to me, “I had to bring him on one of our hunting trips, but it went wrong.” “How,” I ask. “We climbed a tree to wait there for some deer to arrive, but the little one slipped and fell down, breaking his neck. He died at the spot.” “And they blamed you?” “Just watch.” The door of the room opened and Zatoxia walked in. She sat down next to Duncan and swings her arm around him. “It’s not your fault,” Zatoxia says to Duncan, “There is no way to prevent this from happening.” “But your mother does accuse me,” Duncan says, nearly crying now, “she blames me for your brother’s death.” Zatoxia grabs Duncan softly by his chin, moving his face towards her’s and says: “But I don’t,” and she kisses him on the lips. The human holds his hands before my eyes, and as he takes them away we are outside. It’s inside a city, just outside a house. “You don’t have to see what happened after that, but you might want to see this,” the human said. The door of the house in front of us opened and Duncan walks through it, backpack fully loaded for a long trip, lots of arrows and his bow. “Where are you going?” I ask the human, but he doesn’t say a thing and just motions to watch. Out of the door comes another person running. It’s Zatoxia and she hugs Duncan from behind. “Please,” she says, “please, don’t go.” Tears roll from her eyes like glittering water. Duncan just stands still, showing no emotion in his face, but his eyes are a sea of emotion. “It must have hurt to do this,” I say as I look side-ways to the human. I can see that this memory is very close to his heart, since he is crying at the sight of this. I notice that Duncan has turned around and his hugging Zatoxia, as they kiss each other on the lips. When their kiss has ended, Duncan says: “I’m sorry, but I have to go. I can’t stay here anymore.” “But… Can’t I go with you?” Zatoxia asks. “No, you have to stay here. Stay here with you mom. Take care of her; take care of your family. They need you.” “But I want to come with you,” she says as she hugs him closer. “You can’t, but just wait. I’ll come back for you. I promise,” Duncan says as he grabs her hands to hold them in front of her, “I promise.” I hear the human repeat the words beside me, really softly. I see his tears hit the ground, forming small little puddles on the stone streets. Duncan kisses Zatoxia once again and then lets her go, moving away into the world. I close my eyes for a second, but when I open them I see that we’re back into the darkness again. “What I just showed you was the hardest thing I did in my life,” Duncan said as he appeared behind me, “that promise is a promise I won’t break. Ever. I will find her again.” I look at him, still seeing the remains of tears in his eyes. “What did you do afterwards?” I ask him. “Not much. I travelled, met a dwarf, learned how to blacksmith. After that we came into a fight with an old man, and now we’re here. So I ask you once again, why are you here?” “To start my quest,” I say. “Bullshit,” the human says, a bit angry, “you are here to manifest. To take over my body as a medium to manipulate the world of the living.” How could he know this. I haven’t told him this. “I can read your mind here,” the human says, “you have no secrets here. I know all about you. Your plans, your hatred, your quest.” “So what about it?” I ask him since he already knows. “I like it, but I won’t let you take my body,” he says as he circles around me. I wonder what he proposes then. “I want you to stay in me, so I can start to for fill your quest,” he says. I wonder how he is planning on doing this, since he can’t possibly remember all this when he wakes up. “How? You won’t remember this anyway.” “When I get the chance to gain power, I will grab it. You only have to reveal yourself when the time is right.” It seems logical, and trustworthy. “Okay. I will,” I say as I point to the human, “now you better regain consciousness, who knows how much time has passed.” The human lets himself fall backwards and I notice him waking up. His surrounding forms around me, as if I am standing next to him, following his every movement. He’s at the monks, and it looks like a lot of time has passed since I entered. A lot of time. Now I just observe. I observe what he does, when he does. From time to time I take over the body, making sure things get done. Mainly when he has to kill, or when he needs to keep someone from killing himself, but mainly I observe. I watch, once again, waiting for the right moment to reveal myself. What? You have some question about him? Let's see what I can answer for you. Basic Information: ((Question? Answer)) What's his name? That would be Duncan Darkwood What's his nickname? He's also known as 'The Demon', people just don't know it's the same guy. And so do you What's his age? Still 21 years of age Does he has a gender? Ofcourse he has! What a stupid question to ask. And for if you want to know, he looks quite male to me What's his race? Even though he has red eyes, he's a human What's his status? What do they mean with this? If he is married or something like that? In that case, he's single Description: How tall is he? He's about 1.80 meters in height, which will be 5'11 in feet How much does he weight? Without armor and weapons, he'll be around 80 kg What's his body type? He's muscular. He's male. How do you expect me to describe his body type? What does his eyes look like? They have to colour of blood, making them red What's his hair colour and haircut? His hair is black with a somewhat short Mohawk haircut What does his skin look like? He's white. Deal with it Does he has any markings or tattoos? He has a tattoo covering his right shoulder and arm, a scar running from his right mouth corner to his jawline and another large scar on his left leg How's his health standing? He's fit and in good health. Except from that demon thing inside him... What is he like? He's quite quiet and observing, speaks politely and is willing to help when asked. He knows what to do at nearly all times, remain calm almost always, but get him angry and hell will break loose Does he carry anything with him? What he carries with him? Some food, his weapons... Wait, why am I even telling this? Just expect to have a problem when you try to rob him Could you give me any further details? Could you ask a more specific question? Life Style: What's his alignment? He's unaligned. What? You think this is stupid? You'll understand when you work for him Does he follow a deity? He lost all fate in the gods Does he follow a religion? Didn't I already answered this question? What is his alliance, nation, and home? He's in the government of the military state Scarthaux, making that both his nation and home What's his job? He's the bureaucrat of Scarthaux, but also the leader o- I never said that last but. For all that you know, he's a bureaucrat, making him a D'raco (which is the highest class in the state) Does he has a special title? Bureaucrat. What? You expected more? This is all you need to know What's his profession? How many times do I need to tell you, he's a Bureaucrat. Stop asking questions Does he has any special skills? He's very proficient in the art of murder, torture, espionage and tracking people down. Damnit! Uhm... I meant to say that he's good at diplomatic things such as keeping the state at peace, trading in goods and such.... Does this man has any flaws? He doesn't have any flaws, except from the fact that he hates elves, especially high elves, can't resist an opportunity to kill and has lost all sense of guilt and remorse Magic: What is his current status? What current status? He has a demon inside him! What's his arch-type? His what? What's his sub-type? I already didn't understand that arch-type belony, so how am I supposed to know what a sub-type is? What's his magical rank? Uhm..... Does he has any weaknesses? Uhm... Women, alcohol and dogs? What are his strengths? Uhm... Can't think of anything that has to do with magic... Can he cast any spells at the moment? None? Weaponry: How does he fight like? Ah, this is more like it. From the shadows we fight, and in plain sight we hide. You won't know where we are 'till the blade has reached it's goal Is he trained in any specific weapons? Short bow, knives, swords, do his hands count as weapons? If so, then also his hands What is his favorite weapon? His favorite knife How good is he at archery? He knows how to use a shortbow, and he knows it quite well. Just expect to get hit by an arrow in the back when you run from a fight Biography: Who are his parents? His mother, Juno Darkwood, he has never known. His father, Marcus Darkwood, got killed by High elves when Duncan was ten years of age Does he has any siblings? He sees his friends Egamir and Daekra as his brothers, but further than that, he has no siblings. Does he has any children? Let him find a fine lady first, before thinking about this nonsense Does he has any extended family? He doesn't has a lady yet, so no extended family as well Does he has a pet? He hasn't have one yet, but he wants a hound Who is this I'm speaking to? Me? I'm just a shadow. That's all you need to know

~ Gregor Norridge ~ Basic Information Name: Gregor Norridge Age: twenty-four Race: Human Cultural Background: Highlander Gender: Male Birthday: 1491 Birthplace: Old Republic of Salvus, Athera Marital Status: Single Current Profession(s): Soldier, Army of The Trident Physical Description Height: 6ft 6in / 1.98m Weight: 245lbs / 111kg Body Type: Large, Muscular Hair Color: Ash Brown Eye Color: Hazel Skin Color: Pale Scars/Markings: None Detailed Description: Gregor is a very rugged looking individual, staying true to his Highlander background. He stands well over six feet, weighing in at a hefty eighteen stones. Gregor is an ox of a man, with large muscular shoulders and arms, this barrel chested farm boy would best be suited as a laborer or a soldier. His hands are worn and calloused and his skin pale and weathered from years of working outside in the harsh environment. In terms of his looks, Gregor isn't all that ugly. While he may be young, he certainly doesn't look it. With a head full of thick brown hair and a face covered in a short scruffy beard, Gregor would appear middle aged. He has a wide chin and a strong jaw with a large bulbous nose and a pair of thick brown eyebrows. It can be said that Gregor embodies the image of the average Highlander man! (Facial features based on Jory Cassel of Game of Thrones http://imgur.com/OXfmCR4 ) Personal Information Alignment: Neutral Good Deity: Thrønn Religion: The Old Faith Alliance/Loyalty: The Ducal Coalition Past Profession(s): Farmer/Breeder Hobbies: Fishing, Hiking, Exploring, Horse Riding, Hunting Positive Personality Traits: Brave, Decisive, Loyal, Warmeharted, Hard Worker, Adventurous... Negative Personality Traits: Stubborn, Impulsive, Uncultured, Narrow-Minded, Quick-Tempered, Gruff... Biography: Gregor was born in 1491, right at the end of the Schism War. His father was a soldier seeking to settle down and his mother a baker from a small Highlander village. The two settled in the Old Republic of Salvus, drawn by the neutrality of the republic. Using the earnings from his time in the military, Jorge, Gregors father, opened his own farm. When Gregor was born his father was a very proud man, he would teach Gregor everything he knew so that one day he could take over the family farm and continue his legacy. By the time Gregor was a young boy, their family farm had added a ranch to their estate. Gregors uncle had managed the ranch, and Gregor was enthralled by the horses. He soon would begin to learn the art of breeding. Growing up in such an environment matured Gregor very much. By the time he was in his teens he was able to work along side his father and uncle and manage the ranch when they were away. This prepared Gregor for the tragedy that was soon to come. During the summer months in his fourteenth year Jorge had become very ill. The family prayed to their gods and hoped that he would get better, but alas Jorge had passed away. Now fatherless, Gregor was forced to take the reigns and support his family. Under Gregors direction the farm flourished and the ranch grew larger. By the time he was in his early twenties the Norridge Ranch had become an asset to the Republic of Salvus.They provided food and horses to many in the region and even exported their crops to other holds. But this would not last... Tragedy again had befallen the land, with the destruction of Athera Gregor had lost everything. His family was swept up in the chaos and Gregor had been separated from them all. He believed most of them dead, and has since moved on with the notion that they were gone. Now little more than a refugee, Gregor had arrived to the new world known as Vailor with nothing but the shirt on his back. For two years he traveled the land by himself, trying to sort out his life. Until one day he awoke at the Cloud Temple, confused and alone. He was approached by a man clad in grey armour wearing a long pale cloak. The man had dragged him from his stupor and brought him to the city of Brelus, in the Duchy of Adrian. This man had explained what was going on, The king of Oren had declared war against the people, and his armies were slaying civilians on the spot. Convinced that he had no other choice Gregor had taken up arms to aide the cause of the people. He joined the Army of The Trident and now serves as a Greycloak under Commander Richard Barrow, loyal to Duke Sarkozic! We do not know what the future holds for Gregor Norridge, but what we do know is that the events to come will shape this humble farmer and his story will grow...

Gol OOC: Imagine this picture with whitish/grey hair, purple/pink eyes. a black headband, a spear lined at the top with wolf fur and leather shield I Tried to make a close representation but meh I failed :P ________________________________________________________________________________ Born in the year 1481, 30th of Snow's Maiden Male Mali'Fenn High Elf Alive ________________________________________________________________________________ Gol is a 6'5 high elven man, he is chiseled from his exile into the forests of Adrallan. Young for an elf at the age of 42, he possesses a small prowess in the form of archery and sword work. His favorite weapon however is a spear, he currently has a stone spear that is adorned with wolf fur at the start before the spear-head begins. He is a adequate miner and decent smith learning from the forest dwarves he resided with before his search for his father. Unlike most high elves he is a bit thicker and meaty from the harsh practice in the woods growing up alone in the woods at the age of 12 at the end of the fringe wars. He was ordered to be killed along with his mother due to Snow Elf Grand Prince Tundrak II thinking his father was a traitor, though his mother died at his loyal fathers hands, he fled, though his father assumed his death. He then traveled to the most unlikely of places for his folk to be seen-into a forest he resided for three decades. At first he was broken, his whole family were destroyed and he was a young boy. A wolf pounced on him in his enveloping pain, he wrestled with it for minutes eventually snapping its neck, to his surprise...but not only his.. forest dwarves were watching also. They saw his physical prowess and instinctively raised him to be a defender of their small community, Though more likely they knew his height would help. They trained him in their program of battle where Gol had to train under the harsh conditions to be a fighter. Kids his age would fight each other until one was unconscious from the constant pounding. After a decade he was a prized warrior and could contend with many of the dwarves who were heavy built, though Gol is heavy built due to his training and how he ate with the dwarves for three decades. He now has gone to Cerulin and to his surprise his father went on a mission and died to orcs saving one of his men. He saw the valor and respect these wood elves had for his fathers corpse. taking his father down from the gates of Kodar'goi. Gol adorned his fathers white blindfold and dyed it black to his death and now is joined with the wood elven army called The Order of Sirame... though he swears he hears other voices with him... ____________________________________________________________________________

Basic Information Nicknames: The Dark One (Called by red eye members.), Sinner (Called by fellow underlings. Day (Called by friends and family.) Age: 46 Gender: Male Race: high elf Status: No longer a powerful mage, sad, angry. Description Height: 6’7 Weight: 150 lbs Body Type: Not too muscular but very tall. Eyes: Cyan Hair: Light grey Skin: Light tan Markings/Tattoos: The brand of the red eye (Located on back.) Large scar on chest, odd writing all over left hand. Health: Very healthy physically but seems to be on the mental breaking point sanity-wise. Personality: Has very short conversations, very talkative, is not afraid of almost anything, very creepy, seems to want to “Control other-worldy creatures.” Inventory: Has a pouch full of strangely marked runes and necklaces as well as multiple daggers and even a small golden ring with the red-eye symbol in it. Further Details: Always wears a cyan robe that when taking off is for short moments, he seems to travel endlessly, he also does not seem to like unintelligente people. Life Style Alignment: Lawful Evil Deity: “The Unknown Watcher”, (Read bio) Religion: Cultist? Alliance/Nation/Home: Alliance red-eyes (Read bio) Home: None. Job/Class: Mage of the arcane and dark arts. Title(s): The cultist, Unholy Elf, Crazed Wanderer Profession(s): Enchanter, alchemist. Special Skill(s): Very quick and agile, good with “Magic”, intelligent, and very very witty. Flaw(s): Not strong, can come off as creepy, some may try to attack due to robes. Weaponry Fighting Style: Stay back and let others do the work, be quick to attack, aim for weak spots. Trained Weapon: Dagger, bow, fists. Favored Weapon: Dagger. Archery: Bow? Biography Parents: Mother: Evylen Epistach, Father: Apoch Epistach. Siblings: None Children:None Extended Family: Grandfather: Latrin Mayark Pet(s): None History (bio): Chapter one: The Underlings I was born in 1462 in a small underground sanctuary near Oren. Not much is known of this sanctuary except that it is long gone and forgotten by many. The High Elves that inhabited it were known as “Underlings” They were far from a different race or sub-race, but they were still… different. They spoke a different language, talked a different way, and had different beliefs. They believed that there was no creator, instead that one known as “The Unknown Watcher” created all life and would destroy it if it was forgotten. The Underlings had a temple in his honor where they would sacrifice all sorts of animals and would shed the blood of the un-pure in his honor. When I was born I was raised by my grandfather as my parents were the watchers of the temple and stayed there day and night. When I was only 6 I had to kill a lamb for The Unknown Watcher in order to purify my “Life Force”, I did this with the help of my grandfather he pushed the knife while I held it and it plunged into the lamb’s heart. When I was 8 I was taught how to use a dagger against long swords and battle axes and learned quickly how to properly fight. I was very efficient with a dagger at the age of 12. On my 13th birthday I stole a lamb from the temple in order to use its pelt as a sheath for my dagger. I was caught and was branded a sinner. My mother died in my place in order to pay for the lost lamb. My mother died two days after my birthday I was the one who sacrificed her for purification. I got the nickname Day by one of my trainers and it stuck like resin from the finest maple tree. When I turned 14 I was allowed to serve the Unknown Watcher in order to pay for my sins when I was 13. My grandfather left our sanctuary on my 14th birthday in search of something better. I was alone at this point and only lived to serve The Unknown Watcher. One day when returning home from the temple I saw a man selling odd runes. They were brownish in color and had inscriptions that meant different things. I took one that meant sinners from him and wore it on my neck. At the age of 15 I got my own house in the sanctuary and was able to live how I wanted to. I became an enchanter of weapons and brewer of potions. One day I approached my father and asked him “W’ere Lavis nuukra dav’is nat’ri.” Roughly translated to “What will the unknown watcher (nuukra) do to me. I was terrified he would incinerate my life force. My father responded. “Nuukra Lavis day’is nat’ru reka. Nat’ru katrus pret’e.” Meaning “The unknown watcher will do nothing to you. You have been purified.” I took these words from him and cherished them thanking him for answering kindly, even if it was a lie. On my 17th birthday a book was found near the entrance to the sanctuary. It was said to be a guide to different languages. With it many of the Underlings learned different languages. We translated many words M’ta :Mother F’ta: father Me’r: Brother etc. we were at the peak of our days and then the attack happened. Chapter two: The Raid On Sanctuary It was on my 18th birthday that the creatures attacked. They were large, green brutes who only cared about slaughter. They claimed we were stealing their land and demanded we be killed because of it. There were 157 of them in total but only 124 of us. We made traps in our houses and bunkered in the children. We had 72 warriors and the rest hid in trapped houses. The brutes ran at us and we easily took out the first wave of 12 with nothing but arcane spells. The next wave was smarter and had shamans protecting them from the spells. We met them with arrows and blades as a fury of blood and gore came. We fought for a day until we were forced to retreat to the temple. The leader of the brutes, Gar’Zuruk, walked into the temple wielding a war hammer made from the finest metal. When he entered I was so angered I immediately charged him. My dagger met his axe and I caught it in the curve and disarmed him. I told him “L’sa kra.” Meaning, “Leave, now.” I’m not sure if he did not understand or just did not care, because he swung at me with his fist. I easily dodged it and dug my dagger into chest. I watched crimson red flow from his chest like water and his last words had something to with an angry Chieftain. I and my fellow Underlings rebuilt what was damaged and killed the remaining brutes. It took two full years to rebuild and at this point I was 19. I was announced the secondary leader after our true leader, Natray. Natray was a very quiet high elf who could fire an arcane fireball seemingly hotter than the sun itself. We all respected and feared him. He was a great leader but was caught with a strange disease when he turned 257. We all feared his death and did not want to lose him. We sent our best men to the surface in search of a cure, but to no avail. Two months later Natray died. We burned his body in the temple in honor of Nuukra’s greatest servent, Natray. We built traps to keep out any more invaders but without Natray we felt unsafe and unsure of what would come. My 20th year living in the sanctuary was the worst. We had 22 men die on an unknown disease and we had to block off a section of the sanctuary. At the end of the year we had 422 people living in the sanctuary and the numbers were rising fast. It was almost my 21st birthday when they attacked again. The brutes came again except this time there were too many to even count. We estimated at least 600 and they outnumbered us too much. We evacuated as many people as possible and rigged the sanctuary to blow and cave in when the brutes got too far in. I left the cave with 259 other Underlings when the cavern blew. We saw the cave in and lost 23 of the evacuated and countless still in the sanctuary. We killed over 300 of the brutes and were safe from them for now. We were confused and decided to use the language the “Normal” High elves used. We got a few words wrong but were pretty fluent. We traveled away from Oren for 7 months before settling down. I was 22 and there were only 79 Underlings with me. The others had died or moved into cities for a more simple life but we had a mission, to serve Nuuka. Chapter Three: The Rebirth We spent two whole years making a mighty fortress capable of withstanding a lot of brute force. We named the fortress D’le, meaning rebirth. I was 24 at the fortress’s finishing point and was very proud of what we had created. We made a library to hold books and study spells four alchemy labs, 2 housing districts, 2 kitchens, 5 farming areas, 1 armory, and eight supply rooms. There was much more but going into detail would take a massive amount of time. We set up 7 guard towers each armed with a large mana pool and a massive cross bolt weapon. We did not want to be harassed again. We decided we needed to really needed protection and even had a large magic shield generator in the center of the fortress. We made allies with many neighboring cities by offering knowledge, food, or general supplies. We formed an alliance with two major cities, Epirich, and Nalice. We formed a large army together were called the Trio of Death as we were all powerful and very intelligent. We went to war with many of the “Brutes” that had raided our sanctuary. We called them Lusee, translating to ruthless killers. We destroyed 4 of their fortresses and killed 5 Chieftains. We showed them no mercy as they had done to us. We would not stop killing them until they were all killed. It was 4 months after my 24th birthday when the Lusee attacked us. They arrived in the middle of the night and killed off 27 of our finest soldiers before an alarm was raised. I woke to the sound of catapults, slashing, and screaming. I quickly grabbed an iron dagger, light armor, and a small pouch of deadly potions. I ran through the corridors attempting to reach one of the towers when I ran into a group of ten Lusee. I threw an acidic potion at them, burning their flesh off their skin. Two were not killed charged at me. I had no choice but to run and fled to the nearest tower. Upon arrival to the tower I locked the door that led to it and mounted the cross bolt weapon. It took two minutes to load the bolt and about one minute to aim and fire. I did this for over an hour shooting the Lusee with the weapon. I ran out of bolts eventually and began using arcane fire balls. After 3 hours the fighting ceased. The Lusee retreated, sure to return. They were deadly and desperate and didn’t seem to be afraid of much. We re- fortified and awaited their deadly return. It wasn’t until two months after the attack that anything happened. One of our scouts returned on his horse, but he was dead. There was a note stabbed threw him with a broad sword saying if we did not give in to the Lusee we would be destroyed. We didn’t understand. Did they not accept defeat? Would they all have to become extinct before they face the facts? We did not know but we were ready for anything. A spy of ours was able to infiltrate the Lusee and find out where they were hiding. He came to us saying they hid in the mountain range not far from our fortress. We recruited an army of dwarves, elves, and kha alike to defeat them. Chapter Four: The Payment of the Lusee We gathered an army of over 500 men and women. We were not afraid of this battle since we had the advantage in every way. We had catapults, trebuchets, and even a few carriages filled with crossbows and arrows. We arrived at the mountain range at which they had been hiding in and released unholy hell on them in the form of 22 catapult shots. The Lusee attacked back in surprising force destroyed 16 of the catapults with their own weapons. We advanced in waves of about 50 men each. The first two waves were slaughtered at the gates but the others busted through. I got into a fight with a Lusee near the gate. He swung at me with his large battle-axe missing by only a couple of inches. I threw one of my daggers into his leg which caused him to fall. I went to kick him in the jaw but he reached out and grabbed my leg. He threw me at the ground and pulled out a large great sword. The wind was knocked out of me which gave him a chance to swing at my back. I was able to roll a little but I heard the tear of clothes and felt the rush of blood on my back. I turned around and cast a fireball into his face causing him to grab his face as his flesh seared with heat. I got up slowly and pulled out a potion of acid and broke it over his head, melting his skull. I limped my way into the city walls and found a healing group. They temporary took the pain out of my back and stopped the bleeding but a scar would be left for the rest of my life. I ran into the main castle halls finding a wounded Lusee crouched over a throne trying to remove a spear from his back. “Do not kill me.” He roared in a non-intelligent fashion saying many works incorrectly. “You have harmed us long enough!” I shouted pulling an axe off of a stand. “Now I will end you for your crimes. A payment to Nuuka to cleanse you, Lusee.” I brought the ace down on his next multiple times severing his head from his shoulders. I stood in a large pool of Lusee blood and couldn’t help laughing. I was certain Nuuka was above watching me fight these dirty beasts. I felt sad though. They had taken my family, my brothers and sisters, but here I lay have defeated them from this land. If you have not heard of this story it is because this all happened hundreds of miles from Oren and such. We executed the survivors and dined on their meats and ale. We had a fine celebration and I got some much needed female action that night. We were all warriors. And although our legacy would not be known by many, it was known by us. The army departed and left back to their respective cities. We returned to D’le and we returned as heroes. We would no longer be harassed by the Lusee. Chapter Five: The red-eyes After the battle with the Lusee we returned to D’le to find it in ruins. It was completely destroyed and there a small note from the Lusee saying, “Uruk want the one known as Drayden.” I and the 7 men who survived the battle were shocked. We searched for survivors but there were none. We grieved but only for a few minutes. We took what we could and went to a small inn for the night. When we arrived at the inn we were cheered on as they had heard of our victory, but when we told them what happened to D’le they immediately changed their moods. We decided to go into hiding to avoid the Lusee. We could not defeat them while we were weak like this. One day my best man, Rayle, stumbled upon a strange book. It talked of binding other-worldly creatures to objects in this realm. He showed it to me and the other men and we began to learn from it. We realized doing this would be against Nuuka’s will. TO learn a dark magic would be to sin. So we decided to use the symbol for sinning as our insignia for the cult we created. We called ourselves the red-eyes. We would perform dark arts constantly to improve our skill and learn new tricks. We began to build a large castle far from our last location. It wasn’t as mighty as the fortress but was home. We brought in people of many races and slowly expanded to be known as a kingdom called Kyrun. No one knew it was run by a cult that preformed dark arts on their own citizens. Our first major trick was to bind someone’s life force to an object. We killed a poor farmer and linked his life force to a book. Words would appear on the paper as he tried to speak. Oh! It was magnificent! We had learned spells that could change the timed of war. I was known as the leader of the red-eyes and all other members called me D’rak, or, The Dark Lord. We became a large kingdom and slowly plotted against the Lusee. Slowly two members of the red-eyes “Aldon and Markil”, began to work alone from the others with their magic I suspected treachery and decided to spy on them. Chapter Six: The Traitors I followed Aldon and Markil to the alchemy room where I found them creating weapons of mass destruction, against me and the other red-eyes. I did not approach them there as I wanted to discuss it with the other red-eyes. Rayle, Adam, Nevil, Mercun, Letrin, and I all sat down at a banquet and discussed the treachery. We all decided they must be killed in the name of the red-eyes, and in the name of Nuuka. At first we did not know how we would kill them, but then it came to us, we would wait until they are in the alchemy lab again and release a beast in there. At midnight Aldon and Markil went into the alchemy lab setting off a trap that summoned 4 blazes. The two ducked under a stone table and devised a plan. We did not expect them to survive so we waited outside the door until we could no longer hear the blazes firing. We stepped in and saw the two huddled in a corner firing waves of water at the creatures as they attempted to attack them. At that point it became a battle of the arcane mages. I grabbed Rayle and threw him behind a stone cupboard and started throwing arcane fire at Aldon. I hit him in the chest and he flew back into the wall being rendered unconscious. I then turned towards Markil but instead of seeing him I saw a fireball flying towards my face. I woke up lying in a pool of blood. Rayle was dead as was Adam and Letrin. I stood up slowly using a table as support. I saw Nevil and Mercun trying to open the door that was sealed shut. “ D’rak!” Mercun yelled running towards me. We embraced and I saw a large cut on Nevil’s forehead. “He has been hurt?” I asked looking back at Mercun. “Aldon took Markil and they both ran through the door. Nevil was hit with a dagger Markil threw and when we tried to escape the door was sealed shut.” We tried all sorts of spells until Nevil spoke up. “I can use my life force to destroy it.” He said as blood rushed from his head. I yelled at him for the idea but eventually he convinced me it was the only way. He said his goodbyes and activated his life force causing the door to implode. Mercun and I escaped and we planned to make the traitors pay. Chapter Seven: The Dread. We were told by some citizens that the traitors had fled the city and were nowhere to be found. We knew they would return. It was on my 40th birthday that they returned. Mercun and I had created robes that matched our eye colors and that we wore with pride. The citizens all wore clothes to match their race. We still stole a few to test on every now and then. At midnight we heard the guards yelling. Mercun and I both arrived at the north tower where we could see two cloaked figures with 16 horses pulling the biggest catapult I have ever seen. Oddly enough the catapult was filled with armor pieces, dwarven, elven, orcish, and even some unrecognizable armor. They carted towards the castle then removed their cloaks and we saw Aldon and Markil. “Hello Day!” They yelled in cheerful voices and in unison. “Hello traitors of the red-eyes, and traitors of the great Nuuka.” I yelled at them. “We wish to give you this armor!” Markil yelled pointing at the catapult. “Ready Aldon!” He said looking at his friend. “As I’ll ever be!” Aldon replied cheerfully. Markil fired an arcane fireball at the catapult tension rope making the catapult fire the armor. “Get down!” I yelled hiding under the barracks. The armor broke a few pillars and beams, shattered a few windows, and scared some people, but no one was hurt. I went to yell at them but they had began to run. I then turned towards the city itself and could not believe my eyes. The armor was forming together as though controlled by ghosts. “DREAD KNIGHTS!” Mercun yelled already throwing fire bolts at them. I ran out of the barracks and towards the castle where most of the armor pieces had landed. When I got there what I saw was a massacre. The Dread Knights tore through citizens and soldiers as though they were nothing. I fought a few but altogether there were way too many. I fled with Mercun and as many soldiers as possible. We left the city in search of the traitors. Chapter Eight: The Lusee and Their wrath. Mercun, Epich, Tuns, and I were all headed to an inn when we saw them, Lusee hanging up banners with the Underling symbol for sinner. The symbol for the red-eyes. We hid behind a wall and waited for them to leave. The banner looked good, but it had lettering under it saying, “Reward for all Underling found.” The banner almost seemed to drain the wall behind it of color. We ripped it down and followed the Lusee. We arrived at a small outpost for Lusee and decided to attempt to raid it. We thought there was only the one Lusee, but when we entered we were surrounded by them. The pulled out axes and hammers alike and one stood up and said, “You are Underling? Well our chieftain would love to see you.” We were unarmed and had no choice but to go to the chieftain. The chieftain was a more brown then green and stood just over 7 feet. He towered above us and laughed as he saw us. “This is what you bring me?” He said in a roar, “Well then, I will kill one and strip the others of all minas, weapons, and armor.” The chieftain rolled a dice each one of us being a number, I had three numbers. He rolled a two and furrowed his brow. “Well the leader of red-eye does not today! But he does!” He said pointing at Tuns. “No, NO!” He yelled as the chieftain grabbed him. The Lusee grabbed him and then slit his throat with my dagger. We all screamed and the Lusee laughed. We were escorted out and stripped of everything except for our clothes (robes in mine and Mercuns case) and left in the rain. Chapter nine: The mages mountain. Mercun, Epich, and I all searched for any signs of the traitors. Until one lucky day we found a fortune teller. I was now 45 and was much more muscular then before. The fortune teller told of a mountain where two dark mages were hiding themselves far away from anyone else. We asked her where the mountain was but she said she wouldn’t tell. I then freaked out and smashed her head into a table until she was dead. All I cared about was getting the traitors to the red-eyes. We searched for 6 months until we found a mountain where many odd things were reported to have come from there. We packed up and got ready. We spent one last night in an inn, knowing the journey would be long and hard. We packed plenty of potions, arrows, and food items. We left in the S’kru and arrived at a town near the mountain in W’kru. The townspeople were nice but were all terrified of the mountain. They gave us a potion that would stop the winds from blowing us of the mountain and we trained for 2 more months. It was the night before we planned to climb the mountain and Mercun and I talked as Epich slept. We awoke bright and early to climb the mountain and began the treacherous journey before the sun was even up. We used torches and spells to see and a blizzard quickly swept over us. We lost track of one another and both Mercun and I met up in a cave. We waited in there for 3 hours. When Epich did not show up… we expected the worst. We began our trip up more and it took two hours to reach the top. We searched for an entrance to a cave and found a very large one. We watched two men enter it and knew we were in the right place. Chapter Ten: The Mages Battle We waited outside of the cave for an hour before heading in. “You are being paranoid! Come on Markil you know the crazy women just died on her own.” Aldon yelled to Markil. “That girl new our location and now she’s dead! Of course I’m paranoid.” Markil yelled back. “She’s been dead for years!” Aldon yelled sitting on a small stool. The cave was filled with alchemy items, runes, and odd gems. Mercun and I both snuck behind Markil who was sitting on a woolen bed. He turned around as we were going to grab him and shot a fireball at us. Mercun and I both rolled to the side dodging the arcane flame. “Aldon I told you dammnit!” He yelled at Aldon. I shot a fire ball at Markil and it struck him directly in the head burning a hole threw his skull. Aldon ran at me and right as I threw a fire ball at him he disappeared. I turned to Mercun and he was also looking around for the mage. He reappeared next to me and shot a blast of wind at me causing me to hit the wall. Mercun and Aldon began to fight hand to hand and in the middle of the fight Mercun slipped on Markil’s blood giving Aldon a chance to fire a fire ball through his chest. “NO!” I yelled running at Aldon. As I ran at him he grabbed my wrist and I froze. “This is my final will!” He yelled as an icy chill swept over my left hand. Slowly he began to fade and lettering began to appear on my left hand. “Doing this… Will make you forget all of the spells you know now!” He yelled as he dissolved quickly. Everything went black and I woke up in the sky temple… with a cyan cloak and robe covering me forgetting all of the spells I once knew. Pictures! (I made a lot more but I have to edit them.) “The banner made the wall look almost colorless…”