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The Visigian Vanguard “To Defend Until Death” - Charles Philip Horen, Viscount of Balian, and Lord Vicar of the Church Purpose of Visigian Vanguard Standing quietly along the border of the Holy Orenian Empire, Visiga is part of Oren's first defense against any southern incursion. The holy lands, inhabited by the Pontifical state itself, seeking to cohesively form a line of fortitude against aggressors, has decided to assemble. Under the authority of Charles Philip Horen, Viscount of Balian and Lord Vicar of the church, the Visigian Vanguard was formed. Henceforth, it is created as a stalwart force to be a bulwark for those who inhabit the lands and beyond. To fight for those who cannot. To defend until death. Ranks Constable: The Constable commands the Vanguard in its entirety, is a man who has proven himself to be an exceptional leader both at home and on the field, and the Viscounts Military hand. The Constable works closely with the Viscount of Balian to excel in his duties. A man of few words, the Constable is required to be adaptable and collected. He has the final say in all matters. Captain: Second in command of the Vanguard, the Captain answers only to the Constable and is also responsible for maintaining the troops. His duties can range from keeping morale up to leading the men on the field of battle. Commander: Third in command of the Vanguard. They assist with keeping order within the ranks, and are often granted minor privileges and duties, as well as missions to lead the enlisted men on. Enlisted Sergeant: The sergeant is the well known solder in the Vanguard, and an Officer in training. runs the lower end ops. Man-At-Arms: The man-at-arms is no stranger to battle. These weathered veterans are expected to hold the line without fail, their ferocity and determination making them formidable opponents. Nothing less than complete obedience is expected of the man-at-arms. Footman: These soldiers are the backbone of the Vanguard. They are fully fledged soldiers that have had some experience in the military, and their presence is both a relief to their allies and a curse to their foes. Recruit: These men are the newest additions to the Vanguard. Most are lacking experience in any form of combat, and have yet to prove themselves. They will undergo trials and training until they can become Footmen. Medals Medal of Grievance: Considered the atonement medal; is given out to injured members of the Order who suffered their ailment during righteous battle Medal of the Stalwart: One of the highest of honour that could befall on a member of the Order the Medal of Stalwart is granted to those who have attained glory or surmounted a great feat. Joining the Visigian Vanguard Name: Race: Age: Any past military experience?: ((OOC)) MC Name: Skype Name (can PM if needed): Do you have TeamSpeak, or are you willing to download it (will be used in battles and other activities)?: Timezone:

Character Name Basic Information Nicknames:The Talon (no one knows that Destrian and the Talon are one and the same though) Age: 20 Gender: Male Race: Human Heartlander Status:Alive Description Height: 5 feet 9 inches (175 cm) Weight: 67 kg Body Type: Fit but slightly skinny Eyes: bright dark blue eyes Hair: Dark hair Skin: Pale,slightly ashen Markings/Tattoos: A few light scars on his face and a green snake tatto on his right arm Health: Mostly healthy,despite life on the streets Personality: As Destrian, he is a charismatic and humorous individual who can be sometimes annoying with his constant joking.He also shows great interest in other cultures and the arcane. As the Talon, He's a quiet, calculating and sarcastic individual, in contrast to his more cheerful persona.Despite being a criminal and acting cold,he would never willingly harm an innocent or commit crimes which would result in harming the lives of those in the lower social spectrum. Ambition: He seeks to become influential enough in the underground, so that he can better the lives of those who live in poverty. Inventory: A set of lockpicks in his left pocket , a sheathed dagger on his right hip and a journal in his right pocket where he writes his thoughts on other cultures,magic and people Life Style Alignment: Chaotic good Deity: None Religion: None Alliance/Nation/Home: Currently Felsen Job/Class: As Destrian Nightgaze, he usually does errands or works as an assistant for a minor period to keep his facade. As the Talon,he is an underground criminal who makes his living by selling information, commiting heists,thefts,smuggling and the occasional bounty hunt and assassination. Title(s): The Talon ((I don't know if it's referring to noble titles or not, so please correct me if it doesn't count as a title)) Profession(s): Currently none Special Skill(s): Pickpocketing,Stealth,Manipulation Flaw(s): Barely able to control his hate of nobles and panics when things don't go according to plan Magic Current Status: Interested in it, but currently has no knowledge of it Arch-type: none Sub-Type: none Rank: none Weakness(es): not known Strength(s): not known Current Spell(s): none known Weaponry Fighting Style: Uses stealth and the terrain to gain an advantage on the foe and strikes with his dagger when the opponent least expects it. Trained Weapon: Dagger Archery: not known Biography Parents: Mother:not known(deceased Father:Malcolm Nightgaze (deceased) Siblings: none Children: none Extended Family: Destrian doesn't know and doesn't care. Pets: Interested in getting one,but currently has none Background Destrian was born in 1538 on an average village. Unfortunately, due to his parent's poverty, his mother died from childbirth. His father tried his best to take care of him, but on Destrian's sixth birthday, a gang whom his father owed debts were tired of waiting for the payment and killed him,taking Destrian as payment. During his early years with the gang, he was initially used to beg money from the passersby, but eventually the gang taught him how to pickpocket to increase their 'revenue'. One day, Destrian tried to pickpocket a hooded elf .who was visiting the city, and got caught by the elf. Instead of turning him over to the guards or worse, the elf corrected his technique and brought him to live with him during the week he was in the city. During that week,the elf taught him the basics of reading and gifted him a book about the many cultures of the world.On the final day, the elf gave him his last advice: "To be sucessful on the streets,you must walk in the shadows". After the elf left, the gang found Destrian and ,after a beating, put him back to work. As the years passed by, Destrian did a wide range of jobs for the gang,incuding heists,smuggling and the assassination of minor enemy gang leaders. It was only a matter of time until he became the right hand of the gang's leader. The day after Destrain's promotion to the right hand of the leader, members of the gang found the leader dead with a dagger stabbed deep in the back of his head with Destrian being nowhere to be found. Several weeks later, a hooded figure stands on top of a roof observing the poor and the arrogant nobles of the city. The figure looks to be deep in thought when suddenly, he smiles lightly under his hood and mutters"This city will do..." Artwork Destrian normal http://imgur.com/KgcKIWy Destrian 'The Talon' http://imgur.com/Tc5LZ1p ((My first character profile, What do you guys think? Also, tell of any lore mistakes i made))

Rose Basic Information Nicknames: "Dragon Heart Lady" Age: 15 Gender: Female Race: Human Status: Citizen Description Height: 5'5 Weight: 90 pounds. Body Type: Slim. Eyes: Brown Hair: Brown Skin: Pale white. Markings/Tattoos: None. Health: Pretty good. Personality: Shy, confuses easily, poor memory, poor geographic skills. Inventory: A necklace that is rumored to be made of dragon scales. Though this is unconfirmed. Further Details: None. Life Style Alignment: Chaotic Good Deity: Undecided Religion: Undecied Alliance/Nation/Home: None. Job/Class: None. Title(s): None. Profession(s): Unknown Special Skill(s): None Flaw(s): Poor memory, stutters when nervous. Weaponry Fighting Style: Sword. Trained Weapon: A little bit in sword fighting. Favored Weapon: Swords. Archery: None. Biography Parents: Ruby Cleary and John Blackheart. Siblings: Cassandra Mask, Skyler Cleary Children: None. Extended Family: Ehminster Dom (Uncle) Pet(s): Two dogs, though both dead now. History Find out in-game! Artwork http://pre06.deviantart.net/7e72/th/pre/i/2014/281/6/c/sketch__evie___pennyroyal_academy_by_alixnight-d8248j1.png

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=z0PvZGVPiJU Clan Orvar “Fly High, Fly Far” ((Clan Orvar is based on a pagan human culture I created, inspired by the Celts and the Norse. I would HIGHLY recommend reading this post (Gorundyr Culture and Religion) which contains all of the details and knowledge on the Gorundyr culture and religion, which Clan Orvar is apart of. Any additional beliefs listed here are strictly followed by the Clan!)) A Clan is Reborn Far in the eastern reaches of the Konigsreich of Vandoria, within the mountainous valleys of Hallowvale, a call could be heard. Dozens of warhorns thundered around the vale, echoing off the steep cliff faces and sharp inclines. Loudest of all came from the blaring of an enormous horn, carved of bone and inlaid silver, nestled in the center of the village. Just as it had come, the booming faltered, and behind the horn appeared a mountain of a man, his once prominent brown hair graying, and his face creasing with age. His gaze lingered on the crowd for a moment before speaking, voice powerful and firm. “Gorundyr! Kinsmen of Orvar! Today we stand upon hallowed ground, the first of which we have had since our ancestors were forced to flee our homeland in Anthos. Today we can all look up at the snowcapped mountains, towering gorunpines, and take our first breaths as a free and unified people." Morvan would pause, a smile lighting up his aged face, and scan the crowd before continuing. "Be proud of your accomplishments, as the gods surely are. They have blessed this vale with their power and blessings. Once again, our proud people has a home, and as the Yagar of the Gorundyr people, I grant this village the name of Tyravik. With this, we honour Tyr, the first Chieftain of Orvar, may he smile down upon us from the isle’s of Halvengr! Fleyja sevlla, fleyja fjarri!” With that, Morvan began to stamp his foot into the ground and let forth a roaring cheer. All around him, his Clan and Kin joined in, chanting in the old tongue of the Gorundyr. Tyravik was established, a new home for Clan Orvar, one which would see the rebirth of the Clan and the restoration of a once great people. Clan Traditions and Beliefs Riders of Halvengr An ancient belief held by Clan Orvar, the Riders of Halvengr are a spectral band of ancestral spirits that visit the mortal realm during the winter months of Yul Tine. These souls are said to have a longing for their past lives, their sole desire to visit the land of the living and enjoy the cold rush of air on their face as they ride. Riders are said to visit living descendants and leave gifts or good wishes behind. In return, it is expected of the living to light beacons of fire among mountain paths and leave gifts and offerings such as food, ale, mead, cloaks, and anything else of significance. It is very popular for people to travel and often camp out at night, when the riders are said to be the most active, to chance a sighting, especially among children. A Bloodline of Giants The Orvari are very proud of their heritage and blood, and there is one myth that is held in the highest regard. It originates from the times of the Chieftain Tyr, one of the first Gorundyr to split off and form his own Clan after Havardr and the Joriin ascended to Halvengr. A period of strife and war struck the Gorundyr after his departure, and it was the fragmented original clans of the Gorundyr that attempted to fill the power vacuum. During this time, a savage war erupted between the Clans and a group of giants, led by Fariik. These giants were not of stone or ice, but flesh. While Fariik and his tribe were mighty warriors and far more powerful than the average Gorundyr, what they made up for in strength, they lacked in numbers. Soon they found themselves on the defensive, forced into the mountains and hills. Each year, when the snows melted and the mountain passes were traversable, hunting parties would scour the land in search of giants. It was seen as a great honour to slay one and take it’s bones as trophies. It was Tyr who strayed from this path and extended an open hand to Fariik and his tribe, seeing the giants as friends and not foe. Tyr and Fariik pledged an oath to defend each other's peoples, and to join together as one. While the union was an improvement, the damage had already been done, the giants had suffered terrible losses to their population. It was with this that Tyr ordered the mating of human and giant in an attempt to bolster their numbers. While the existence of Giants is now merely a legend, it is said that due to Tyr’s efforts, their population survived for decades. Now, Clan Orvar defends its claims that the blood of giants courses through their veins, and they hold much respect for their lost ancestors. They contribute their larger size and strength to this myth, though no one can truly know for sure. Heirlooms and Relics Clan Orvar holds in its possession several sacred heirlooms that they trace back to their ancestors, and in some cases, their early creation. These objects are given great care and attention, each of which are on display in the Ritual House. Dyrnwyn, Blade of the God-King - Crafted by the Legendary Taranis for the God-king, Havardr. Forged out of the heart of a stone giant. It's hilt is made of meteorite and bleached whale-bone with a small flaming hammer engraved on the pommel. Havardr discarded the weapon when he was granted ascension by Gorund and had Taranis craft him Dagor’kaen, a mythical spear forged from light itself. Dáinsleif - Wielded by a Asulonian priest named Hagnar, Dainsleif is the first Sivaas Feyn, a class of blade used for ritualistic purposes and to combat eldritch abominations, be it beast or spirit. It’s blade resembles that of a long sword forged of a strange brownish gold metal. Up it’s fuller are several bright glowing runes, said to recite the oath Hagnar gave to Gorund and infuse the blade with holy power. The Tapestry of Creation - An ancient artifact that tells the story of the creation of the Gorundyr, from their beginnings as fledgling creations of Lagara to their descent from Halvengr, and their first steps as mortals. It is drawn on one single length of tan parchment, with it’s images and runes inlaid in gold and silver thread. Yisigil - Given it’s name by Barid, Yisigil was crafted after the Yagar’s victory over the other Gorundyr clans and has since then been considered a sacred object in the Clan. It resembles the other common Gorundyr round shields in design, but is vastly more ornate and decorated and has no practical use. It is a symbol of unity and accomplishment, and fills all clansmen with pride when they gaze upon it’s form. +UHLFBERH+T - A lesser known artifact forged by Morvan of Orvar, his kinsmen Byrnjolf, and two Adunians named Cymrych and Gavin, the Uhlfberht is an exceptional blade forged from a special process that resulted in stronger and more flexible steel. The forging of the blade took months to complete and now serves to represent the bond between Clan Orvar and Douglas of the Adunians. The blade has become a status symbol in the clan and is gifted to the personal champion of the Yagar, whomever comes into the position. Skildir - An ancient winged spear steeped in myth, Skildir is believed to be the fang of the mighty lord Auroth, gifted to an old warrior of Clan Orvar. The only text supporting this myth was an old runestone situated in Asulon, where the spear itself was found. It seems the lonely wanderer had reached the end of his life, and left the spear encased within the stone to pass on to the next generation and whoever was worthy of finding it. Now, it is in the possession of Ruari of Orvar, the fifth son of Morvan of Orvar. He wields it with a savagery that only Auroth himself could match. The Warband of the Haukvengr The Warband itself is one cohesive unit that is held together by brotherhood and respect. All warriors are trusted and only those who are respected will be allowed to fight alongside their brothers and sisters. If a band is started with the intent on raiding and searching for wealth and glory, all warriors within are given an equal share of the plunder. While the Haukvengr are the main military force of Clan Orvar and thus draw from any of the Clan’s warriors, they are also act as a group of holy warriors for the Gorundyr faith. Should any threat come upon the gods, these zealous warriors will rain down their fury upon it, be it man or beast. Military structure is relatively simple and is outlined as follows. Yagar Morvan of Orvar, Yagar of the Gorundyr, and Chieftain of Clan Orvar, leads the warband as its commander. The Yagar acts as the ultimate authority in all military, religious, and clan affairs. It is the Yagar who chooses who is worthy of fighting alongside him and who gains his blessings before battle. Haskir Haskir are treated as elite soldiers who serve the Yagar directly, acting as his most trusted soldiers, advisors, and bodyguards. Usually, battle-hardened veterans, the Haskir are both respected and feared among the Gorundyr for their immense prowess in battle. Often, they are left in command of the warband should the Yagar not be present, and are given leave to make some decisions should the need arise. Uroksvaal Uroksvaal are some of the fiercest warriors who fight in the warband, acting as terrifying berserkers. They are usually heavily religious, performing rituals before and after battle and sacrificing their prisoners in the name of Ankou and Barid. Almost all Uroksvaal pay homage to Barid and his lineage, praising him as the greatest warrior god the Gorundyr have ever had. Knidviik Knidviik, or Shield-Maidens, are highly respected female warriors that fight in the warband. They are given the same status and respect of the higher warriors, and are to be treated as any other would be. Shield-Maidens devote themselves entirely to battle and drawing the favour of the gods, often choosing to remain unmarried, though it is not unheard of. Vraaniik Vraaniik are those who have been accepted into the warband as trusted warriors, serving as the bulk of the military. If one earns this rank, then it is a sign of respect and trust to their persons. While Vraaniik are typically less experienced and skilled than some of their more veteran soldiers in the warband, they are treated with a great deal of respect. Grengr Grengr are the initiates, the unblooded and untested, whom wish to prove themselves worthy of being accepted into the warband. They are treated less than the other warriors, though still not cruelly so. Simply put, they have not earned the full respect of the other warriors, nor their trust, and are expected to prove so before being treated as equals. Korvr Korvr is the name given to the young warriors of the warband, ranging from the age of five to fifteen, when their coming of age ushers them into adulthood. Korvr are left out of the main battles, instead taken on and trained by the other warriors in the warband. It is the responsibility of the elder, more skilled warriors, to ensure the young grow up strong and skilled in all things, not just war. Visk do Kein Before battle, the Haukvengr will participate in a ritual called the Visk do Kein, a ritual of battle, in which each warrior prepares himself for the potential of death. Offerings and prayers are given to Ankou in hopes that should they fall, their passage through the spirit world will be heeded so that they may reach Halvengr. Next, the warriors group and paint their faces in pigments and colours, even sometimes doing so with the blood of sacrificial animals. As the Haukvengr march, they chant and sing, calling out to the gods as the warhorns urging them forward sound around them. During battle, or just before the initial charge, the warriors of the Warband will consume a dozen of what they call gjota mushrooms, which act as a psychedelic and aid in battle. After several minutes, their conscious mind will go blank, sending them into a blood rage, the only discernible word coming from their mouths being that of Barid, the god of war. The Orvari Code Clan Orvar, as all Gorundyr, live by a strict code of honour and belief. It is this code that resonates so closely with the ideals of the Vander that binds these peoples together. From their oaths to the the first Rovin king of Aesterwald, to their rebirth in the Konigsreich of Vandoria, Orvar honors the Vander Code through their own ancient ideals. Show devotion to the gods through prayer and offering. Uphold the honour and integrity of clan and kin. Speak no lie and break no oath under the watchful eyes of the gods. Strive to grow and protect family and home. Obey the Yagar and respect his wisdom. Fight those who would do harm upon kin, until your last breath. Pay respects and continue the legacy of your ancestors. Slaying one's kin is worse than death and fouls the soul. Never turn your back to a fight, nor turn down a challenge from the worthy. Never abandon the Gods for another, for it is they who granted the breath of life. Breaking this sacred code is a grave crime and will result in death and banishment of soul. Orvari Old History Early Origins Clan Orvar traces its roots back to its earliest peoples through a sacred tapestry from which the origin of the clan is told. It depicts a beautiful woman sitting atop a massive tree that appears to connect the stars to the floating island it sits upon. Lagara, as they call the woman, sits intently as she watches a great eagle descend from his perch on one of the thick branches. The eagle swoops down to the earth with what appear to be children clinging to its wings. It is these children who are regarded as the first mortals. As they dismount, the eagle announces that he is Argal, Master of the Sky. It is with this declaration that he spreads his massive wings and takes flight once again, resuming his unending watch over the tree and the evil that lays imprisoned beneath. As the children grow, so does a spark within them; a great desire to explore and discover the mysteries of the land that had been given to them. Some figures are shown to visit a sacred forest where they meet Andarta and her forest spirits. Others are shown climbing the highest mountains, calling to Argal from their peaks. All of the gods are visited and a bond is forged between the Gorundyr and the powerful beings that created them. The desire for adventure was engrained into the early descendants of Clan Orvar, leading to the creation of their motto “Fly High, Fly Far”. This thirst for adventure calls to all who have Orvar blood within their veins. Clan Orvar traces its earliest roots back to Havardr and his Joriin do Rah, meaning tribe of the gods, and thus so can all Gorundyr. Havardr was the earliest of men to bring the Gorundyr together, far before there was even thought of clans forming. He lead a united people, and in his death was given ascension as a divine being by Gorund, as well as certain others that had served him in life. Losing such a powerful figure shattered the Gorundyr, however, starting the formation of Clans. It was here that a man named Tyr formed his own clan and named it Orvar. As the Gorundyr warred, Orvar grew stronger and accepted more survivors into its ranks, cementing it as one of the original clans. The Legend of Barid Orvar Early Orvar history remains largely unknown as there are no written records of such, only tales passed down by from past generations, as all written works that had once existed were destroyed. The restoration of knowledge can be attributed to one man, at least as far as Clan Orvar goes. Barid Orvar, also known as Barid the Reaver, was born into the clan at its worst. Destitute and crumbling under its own weight, Orvar had very little power and wealth. From a young age, Barid always had a fire in his eye and a taste for glory. A tactical genius and brilliant fighter, he set out to bring glory to his clan and gain the respect that they deserved. One by one the other clans fell to his might, either destroyed, brought to their knees, or assimilated into Clan Orvar. It was his extreme ferocity in battle that earned him the title “the Reaver”, a name that would bring even the strongest clans trembling to their knees. It only took him two years to unite all of the Gorundyr under his rule. Shortly after the war, the remaining clan chieftains gathered at a moot to discuss Barid. It was no doubt that this man was blessed by the gods and demanded respect. The other Chieftains bent their knee and swore loyalty to Barid, naming him the Yagar, or High Chieftain of the clans. With this power, he ushered in a new era of stability and growth for the Gorundyr. After fighting for so long, Barid spent a large amount of time travelling to far off lands and brought back the relics and knowledge of other civilizations. On one of his journeys he met a group of humans with pale skin and light hair who taught him how to read and write in their tongue. Barid brought this gift back to his Clan, as well as plenty of slaves. Upon his death, Barid was exalted into divinity. Havardr noticed the man's intense ferocity and skill as a tactician and warrior, choosing to elevate him as a member of the Joriin. This was seen as a high honour to Clan Orvar, as no other member of a Clan had been granted such since the Joriin themselves ascended into the heavens. A Mighty Clan Falls Prosperity would not last for Clan Orvar, however. During his rule, Barid fathered many sons that would soon tear his kingdom apart. Fueled by greed and a desire to surpass their father, the sons split the kingdom into pieces and started a civil war that would rage for decades. On one side, there was Moban and Ragaros, the two eldest sons. They were as close as kin could be, fighting to preserve their father's legacy and avenge his death at the hands of cowards. On the other, there was what all would come to call the three ‘Kinslayers’, named so for their crime. Due to greed and jealousy, the three sons Tethuk, Morodon, and Viseng, entered Barid’s clan hall itself, armed with daggers. They lured him to a private chamber with the intentions of talking about land being granted to them, where they struck. Barid was brutally slaughtered by the three, as well as two of his wives and a daughter, half sister to the three. It was this crime that would condemn the three not only in life, but death, and sparked a war that would rock the foundations of the Clan. It was not a long and drawn out war, however, but a brutal and short one. The gods had no love for Kinslayers, nor did any being of good soul. Moban and Ragaros quickly slaughtered the armies of the Kinslayers and brought them to justice. They and their remaining servants were lined up around a massive pit filled with coals lit aflame. Made to endure the intense heat, each one watched as the other was ritualistically killed, known as the Blood Eagle. Upon completion, the Kinslayers and their ilk were kicked into the pit, cleansed by Gorund’s flame. Orvar was certainly better off than it was before Barid, but it was no longer the mighty hammer that he had forged with fire and blood. The many long years of war weakened the Gorundyr, allowing a new enemy to rise up and drive them to near extinction. Fleeing Anthos The Scourge, they were called, though the Gorundyr did not know it at the time. The Priesthood declared them the minions of Maratsu and that the raven god would soon break free of his prison to bring about the end-times. The harsh frozen land of the Savaar, a place called home for as long as they could remember, now a living nightmare. The dead rose from their graves in the snow, the demons descended down upon their towns, and the plague rotted at the bodies of the dead. Fierce warriors they may have been, the Gorundyr were not prepared for the relentless onslaught that the scourge had brought to their doorstep. Abandoned by the gods, the people of Clan Orvar gathered what survivors remained and, with heavy hearts, left their lands and headed south. What they found surprised them. There were others like them, humans and entirely different beings, fleeing from the same threat. Their isolation had kept them ignorant of the world around them. Finally, they came upon a large host that had gathered outside a magnificent temple. The Scourge descended upon the host and a mighty battle was fought. Whether these strange folk were friend or foe, the Gorundyr could not be sure, but they joined in the battle. The strongest warriors formed one warband and fought alongside the great host, all of them ready to die so that their people could survive. The Battle raged on, only to be interrupted by a large tidal wave engulfing the land in the distance. Many began to flee at the sight of the wave, pushing into the temples depths where a portal lay. The horrors of Anthos were behind them, just as quick as they had come, and Clan Orvar found themselves in a new land. They saw that the gods had been angry with them, and that the strongest among them had been spared to bring about a new era for their people. Morvan, now Chieftain of Clan Orvar, vowed that the Gorundyr would be a strong and united people once again Athera and Onwards Blinded by Athera’s majesty and the promise of a new life, it was not long before Clan Orvar suffered in the new world. Persecuted for their faith by most, and only tolerated by others, they remained fractured as a people for the majority of the lands lifetime, remaining largely nomadic. A few remained in the northern reaches of the land, settling down both in Aesterwald and Nerezza, until both were destroyed by the Church of the Canon and Orenian crusades. Now, in Vailor, much remains the same. Many have perished and those who have not remain pilgrims and wanderers, seeking the whispers of the gods in the far reaches of the land. A burning ember lies deep in the hearts of those who call themselves Orvar and Gorundyr, a hope that one day the Clan will have a home of its own. The gods call out to the Gorundyr people and urge them not to give up hope, for the unrelenting spirit of this great people will never be extinguished. Noteable Figures Tyr of Orvar, the first Chieftain. Tyr forged his clan from the remnants of Havardr’s kingdom after his death and led them to prominence. He is said to have sat atop a throne carved from the remains of an ice giant, it’s frozen heart still beating faintly within. Tyr is credited with the alliance between human and giant, as Orvar was the only clan to offer aid and friendship to Fariik and his people. Hagnar, the Warrior Priest. As a young man, Hagnar was a simple farmer who struggled to survive in the harsh snows of Asulon. In his accounts, he attributes the changing of his being to an event on the icy banks of Hanseti. Hagnar lost his footing and plunged through the frail ice, sinking deep into the sea. As he drew his last breaths and his vision faded, he recounts only seeing a brilliant flash of light and spoke of an immense heat. The water around him started to boil violently, and he found himself expelled back to the surface, landing upon the shores. It was after sometime that he regained consciousness and found he had suffered no harm, nor did he feel the effects of the cold upon his flesh. From this day on, Hagnar pledged himself to Gorund and joined the priesthood, devoting his entire life to the eradication of the eldritch. Barid of Orvar, the first Yagar. Clan Orvar found itself destitute and weak, barely clinging to life in the frozen wastes of the Savaar, but their luck would change. Barid, from his very birth, showed a renewed spirit that inspired his kinsmen. Upon his coming of age, Barid would join the Haukvengr warband and begin his legend as a fierce warrior. Eventually, Barid united Orvar and all of the other Gorundyr clans, crowning himself as the first Yagar, or High Chieftain. It was his deeds in life that drew the gaze of Havardr and his Joriin, and upon his brutal murder by his sons, he was welcomed into their pantheon. Now, Barid stands as one of Orvar’s greatest ancestors, for not only was he deserving of respect in life, but also now with his godhood. Aventia, Legendary Shield-Maiden. Once a member of the powerful Clan Oghma, Aventia married into Clan Orvar after her clan's near destruction by Barid. Beforehand, Aventia was a well respected foe, and it was her warband of Shield-Maidens which screamed defiance in the face of Barid. When her clan faced defeat and found their name tainted by their refusal to acknowledge Barid’s superiority, Aventia abandoned the clan and set her eyes on a man named Moban, the eldest son of the Yagar. With his refusal to acknowledge Aventia as a worthy bride, she challenged him to a series of duels, defeating him at every turn. She had shown that her spirit was great and earned the respect of the Clan, and thus Moban’s hand in marriage. Application MC Name: RP Name: Skype Name(You may PM it): Teamspeak?: Timezone: Profession(s)(Include level): Will this be a main character?: Open Characters Below is a list of characters of the main Orvar bloodline that have yet to be played. These are all children of my characters siblings, and are mostly blank slates, though their births and such happened ingame. Any questions? send me a private message or add me on skype. Skype: doctorowyn Torkel’s ((BooMziE, skype: mrboomer337)) line: Alvilda (Daughter), Arvid (Son), Eirik (Son) Aeron’s line: Brynjar (Son) Senua’s line: Eylof (Son), Fiske (Son), Eydis (Daughter) Feel free to message me on skype with any questions regarding the Clan or Culture.

Demetrios Palaiologos II's lore Demetrios, during the civil war of Oren at the blossoming age of 15, was captured by loyalists was the first brave and capable soldier under lord Percival Staunton. During that period while Demetrios the second was in jail alongside with his little sister, their father attempted to go on a rescue mission to save his children from the loyalists. He decided to go unarmed to the enemy jail, but the enemy forces showed no kindess and captured him. In the end they forced Demetrios and Theodora to watch their father's brutal death. Both of the children were scared and knew they were not safe anymore in the jail, and then Demetrios the second managed to steal the guard's sword while he was locking in the cell. The guard died and Demetrios managed to escape along with his sister. They then returned to lord Percival's campsite to inform him of the news. Once lord Percival heard the sad news of Demetrios's death he ordered a statue to be made for his bravery which was torn down a few years later by William Staunton for unknown reasons. Years have passed since the civil war, lord Percival has died, his son Richard Staunton friend of Demetrios II rose to the title of Duke and granted him the castle of Kraken's Watch, with no titles. Demetrios decided to change the castle's name to 'Nikae', which means 'Victory' in the Akritian dialect. A Picture of Demetrios Palaiologos II Age: 35 Height: 6'1 Weight: 200 lbs Race: Human Culture: Akrtian

Loud thumps on the roofs of cities, the clanking of armor, all can be heard, along with flyers falling from the sky, saying: "Human woman looking for Illusion magic teacher, send a bird to Luna R. Rider ((LunarRider)) if you are of if you know someone that is an Illusion magic user.". The thumping and armor clanking fades as the flyers stop falling, now laying on the ground.

In Athera, on the outskirts of The Reformed Kingdom of Oren, a settlement was formed, mostly human, on a fishing wharf. It was out of the way from major roads, and it's population wasn't high, so it's not hard to believe that the economy was so stagnant that the majority of the population lived in little more than mud huts along the small fisheries and make-shift dock. There was one exception: a powerful wizard, likely of dark magic, held a tower that loomed over the little village. His name was Deinalt Mephistaurus, and he enjoyed the power he held over the peasants and fish-mongers. He relished in it and exercised it as a tyrant. The villagers had little choice but to comply with his demands. The years drew, however, and they saw no way out, his demands becoming harsher and harsher as he pushed their limits. Sometimes, they were even summoned into the tower itself, either to never be seen again, or as a dry, pale corpse. Secretly, they sent messages out, begging for help from Oren, but Oren had been caught up with politics and, most importantly, wars, and their resources were stretched thin. The request went unheeded. When war erupted in 1483, the villagers knew they would not receive help soon, if at all, and sought instead to hire mercenaries who would take the job for the meagre coin they could scrounge up. They eventually found some who agreed, and the group stole in at the dead of night to ambush the wizard as he rested, for they knew frontal attack upon his tower would avail little except their own deaths. They did not kill him as he slept, as the wizard did wake, but he was still caught flat-footed and with his magical components outside of his reach. He cast what he could, but blind-sided as he was, the fight was intense but short. Deinalt Mephistaurus fell backwards upon the bed he had woken from, but not before cursing the traitorous villagers with his dying breath, promising pain and destruction to them as long as they lived. In the end, the village rejoiced in the victory of their saviours. After much celebration, the heroes parted and Rahult enjoyed their new freedom. They found some measure of prosperity now that they were no longer bogged down with the unrelenting and unfair demands of the wizard. Ten years later, on the anniversary of the wizard's murder, the Plague hit the town, and much of the population died over night. It was no coincidence, the villagers moaned as they mourned. Deinalt's grip still strangles them today. His curse continues! Some of the villagers suggested seeking clerical help, but this idea was shot down for its massive cost. Besides, the Plague hit them hard; if this were truly the will of the mage, would it not be satiated? Another ten years passed, and upon the anniversary, the village was torn with a localized earthquake. Many died in the fallen rubble. Many more lost their homes. Calls for holy intervention increased, but so did the flight from the village. Nothing could be done to circumvent the next tragedy but to wait. When the 30th anniversary came, the villagers waited with baited breath, waiting for a swoop that would likely kill them off for good this time. But the night passed with no unholy intervention, and they all breathed a collective sigh... until the next morning. Several people (men, women, children) were found dead in their beds, throats slit. A couple people were confirmed missing shortly after, but it was unknown if they were still alive, or if they were, whether they were fleeing justice for the acts or fleeing the curse before it could hit them. The villagers would have loved to follow up these events with a witch hunt, but their seeking was cut short; the Flood had overtaken Athera and their wharf was one of the first to drown below the constant rains. Those who were left had no choice but to leave their homes to be swallowed by the waters and go to Vailor. Some of those villagers may still yet live, as could the Heroes of Rahult... as could the unknown murderer. And though the village is gone, no one knows for sure if the wizard's curse is done. Known Former Villagers: Sahar Tha'un Known Heroes of Rahult: Timeline: 1468 - Athera was settled 1469 - Rahult was successfully settled, building watched over by Deinalt Mephistaurus 1475 - Mephistaurus's demands become strange. Citizens begin to disappear 1483 - The Kingdom of Oren becomes Galahar. Rahult citizens look elsewhere for aid. 1483, Sun's Smile - Mercenaries are hired to kill Deinalt Mephistaurus, a contract is drawn 1483, The Amber Cold - Deinalt Mephistaurus is killed in his tower. 1493, The Amber Cold - Plague hits the town overnight. Many citizens die. 1503, The Amber Cold - A localized Earthquake hits the village 1513, The Amber Cold - Many citizens are found murdered in their beds End of 1513 - Rahult is abandoned to the Flood

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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

Basic information: Nicknames: Lily Liver Age: 16 Gender: Male Race: Human Status: Alive and drunk, wandering about Felsen Description: Height: 5'8, standing shorter than most. Weight: 170 lbs Body type: Stocky, a bit wider set then most, but proportionate. Hair: A thick mess of light brown hair sits on his head, and though it is fair, his hair often appears wavy due to being improperly kept. Skin: Extremely fair/white Markings/tattoos: He is missing the lower half of his right ear lobe, sporting with it a scar across the right half of his jaw from an attack from a drunkard in Felsen. Personality: A reckless youth, Louis grew up in Petrus the first half of his life, and Felsen the latter, his father being a half Waldenian refugee, and his mother a lowly peasant. Working from the early age of 5, he has never been shy of hard work. Many experiences growing up have left him to be, ultimately, a greedy and bitter young man. Taunted mercilessly for his position in society by his merchant patrons, and the ever present economic pressure on him and his family has moved him to desire money more than anything else, not caring for fame, fortune, or prestige, but cold hard cash. He bears a deep respect for the hard working lower classes of Oren, and a general phobia of anyone from another nation or sphere of influence. He now has left home in search of work, mostly working as a part time mercenary. Louis is often spotted with a bottle in his hand, raving passionately about the men he respects, and the men he hates. Though he is not known for his literacy, he is incredibly well spoken due to his time working as a laborer, the ever-presence of his eloquent superiors giving him a vocabulary he uses to talk his way out of trouble, or into a job. He still has yet to find real success in talking his way into the latter, though. Lifestyle: Alignment: Neutral Deity: The Creator Allegiance: Oren, primarily Job: Unemployed, though he sometimes takes on odd jobs Title: None Proffesion(s): Brawling, unskilled labour Skills: Though not particularly skilled with a sword, Louis has learned to throw as solid punch growing up. He's also very well spoken, though this is often offset by his temper and general disdain for being spoken down to. He's hard to intimidate, and often quite courageous. Easily described as bold, he is not fearful to do what he is certain he can get away with, which has secured his sword and only real income. Flaws: Generally insecure about his unimpressive heritage, he is very easily offended by those who generally bear, or try to bear, an air of authority while talking to him. He's prone to drinking, and with that, acting on his angsty views. Driven by greed, he is quick to turn on those he feels owe him. Bitterness runs in his blood, and will not just let an issue drop, dogging anyone he has an problem with. Artwork: None, but if I like him enough, I'll commission some.

*A missive is spread throughout the land. To all cities, states, corners and edges of the civilized world. Pinned on boards and taped to walls, it is visible to all.* The Dragons' Guard The House of Horen seeks the strongest, brightest, and most dedicated men and women to serve under its banner. To brave the harsh cold of the north and defend the hardy people therein. To safeguard the city of Ayr, and the grand keep of Edmund’s Watch. Why Join? -To serve under one of the oldest and most noble families known to the realm. -To find fulfillment in protecting the innocent, and in turn serving humanity. -To gain the admiration of all your peers. -To call the soon-to-be keep of Edmund’s Watch your home, if you so desire. -To hone your skills as a soldier and kickstart your career as a man-at-arms. -To be free of prejudice under the watchful eyes of Peter and Robert Horen. How to Join: If you wish to reap the benefits listed above, and prove your worth, you need only send a letter to Robert Horen ((Kowaman/Namawok)) including the following ((Reply to the thread or PM)): - Your Name: Your Experience: What you can Contribute / Your Skills: - *At the bottom of each missive is a stamp of green wax, emblazened with the Horenian insignia. Beside it, are the signatures of Robert and Peter Horen.* Regards, Peter Horen & Robert Horen

Hello LotC This post is going to be brief, but to the point. For a long while now, the human playerbase has been asking about the status of the continent known as 'Aeldin' and if it will be officially recognized by server lore or not. I am here after much discussion, weighing of options, and opinions, and the verdict has been reached. Aeldin is confirmed to exist! HOWEVER this statement comes with several clauses to clean up the mass amount of confusion and unfounded, unrecognized claims surrounding this continent, how it exists, and it's current status. Here is a bullet list of the ONLY accepted facts of Aeldin. Anything outside of this is not canon lore, and cannot be claimed as such. *Aeldin is a continent. *Aeldin is confirmed to be populated almost exclusively by humans. *Aeldin is on the same world as Asulon and Anthos. *Horen never visited Aeldin. *Nothing Aengudaemonic of any sort took place upon Aeldin. *Aeldin is no longer accessible. *No one has been capable of traveling to or from Aeldin since crossing into Thales. *No one has, or can, visit Aeldin since 3.75 (Thales) and this most certainly includes the entirety of 4.0. To clarify the reasoning for all of this is simple. It did not occur on Lord of the Craft, it occurred on another server, and thus anything that happened on that server, cannot be brought to this one. This would include the entire existence of Aeldin, however we have decided to allow it's existence and acceptance into canon lore for the benefit of the Human playerbase, as a continent with a name is harmless itself to the flow of Lore upon LotC. However, the other lore claims are not being recognized and are in fact revoked. The world of Aos, containing Aegis and Athera, is seperate from the world of Eos, which held Asulon and Anthos, and upon passing to Thales, we returned to the world of Aos once more, cutting off any possibility of returning to Asulon, Anthos, or Aeldin. There is no active portal back to that land, and no ability for any player to pass to it by any other means either. If anyone would like to submit reasonable lore for things that occurred on Aeldin that would have significant enough impact to require it to be canon lore, you may follow the usual lore submission process and the lore team will look it over and discuss it, but there are two hard lines that will get any lore denied if they are crossed. 1.) Horen never visited Aeldin in any manner. Horen was on the world of Aegis, and did not pass to the world of Asulon at any point. He could never have visited Aeldin. 2.) There is no ability to travel to or from Aeldin any longer, under any means or circumstance. This is the final statement from the Lore Team, or the Staff in general, about Aeldin. We are not obligated to recognize any RP that occurred off of our own LotC servers and mediums, but we are extending this courtesy to Aeldin in a limited manner, with the addendum that no RP that occurs off of the LotC medium has any inherent right to be considered as canon lore, no matter how many people were involved or how many it's refusal may impact. Your backstories from other servers do not matter on LotC. You can adapt your backstories as needed when you come to play here, you cannot bring unaccepted Lore from your old server to LotC without an accepted Lore proposal. We wish you happy RP, enjoy your day LotC community. Edit:: We are not forcing a PK of any of your characters, they simply are no longer on Aeldin if you've been 'storing' them there.

Brotherhood of the Holy Palatinate I Shall Not Falter A steel song rings from the souls of all the faithful, my friends, but only those chosen as the Bulwark of the Faith shall find their ears ringing with it's brilliant, bursting crescendo. By the brilliance of the Creator and all of his children, and by the authority of High Pontiff Daniel I, and to be outlined in the First Bull of Cyriaum, the Brotherhood of the Holy Palatinate shall be accepting preliminary applications prior to it’s formal formation under the command of Ser Godwin Myre, Commandant of the Holy See. The Brotherhood's garrison is located in Cyriaum, just east of Petrus. The Palatine Code I. STATIONS i. It is we who stand as guardians of the High Pontiff. ii. It is we who shall protect the Creator's faithful from evil, whenever possible. iii. It is we who hunt all worshippers of evil and practitioners of darkness. iv. It is we who keep watch in the lands of the Holy See, and uphold peace and order. v. It is we who shall be the Vanguard of any Holy Crusades. vi. It is we who shall carry out the sentences of those convicted of crimes against the Faith and the Holy See. vii. It is we who shall train the Cyriaum citizen militia in times of need. II. TENETS i. It is we who share, with tolerance and understanding, the word of the Lord. ii. It is we who maintain a powerful and unwavering faith in the Creator and His word. iii. It is we who shall seek to embody Horen's Virtue and Owyn's Spirit. iv. It is we who strive to deliver upon the faithful the embodiments of Godfrey's Gospel and Siegmund's Auspices. v. It is we who obey, without question, the hierarchy of the Brotherhood, and ultimately word of the High Pontiff. vi. It is we who shall embrace our fellow Palatines as Brothers, and treat them as such. vii. It is we who know to violate the Palatine Code is to be stripped of his rank and to be exiled in disgrace. The Hierarchy SENIOR COMMAND --Commandant-- The Commandant is the absolute commander of the Brotherhood, whose direct authority is superseded only by the High Pontiff himself. The Commandant advises the High Pontiff and the entire Holy See largely on military matters; primarily defensive. The High Pontiff selects and removes the Commandant at will. --Chaplain-- The Chaplain is the Commandant’s eyes and ears, as well as his voice. The Overseer is an extremely loyal, competent, virtuous, and respected member of the Brotherhood. The Chaplain has all the powers of command within the Brotherhood that the Commandant has, but can be overridden by the Commandant at any time. The Commandant may add or remove Chaplains at will. HIGH COMMAND --First Palatine-- The First Palatine is a proven, experienced and competent Brother. He is entrusted with drilling the enlisted, leading and organizing patrols and watches, and is the first rank permitted to carry the Standard of the Holy See into battle. First Palatines oftentimes are given specific tasks along with their rank, depending on their individual skills, such as Quartermaster or Disciplinarian. ENLISTED --Palatine-- The Palatine is a veteran guardsman who has proven his virtuosity, loyalty, and efficiency. The Palatine is the first rank permitted to wear the Lorraine upon his tabard. He is the primary backbone of the Brotherhood, and makes up the majority of the patrols and lines. The Palatine may select a newly promoted Gardist as their direct apprentice. The Palatine who disobeys a single order immediately suffers severe punishment, including, at the least, demotion. --Gardist-- The Gardist is one finally fully recognized and initiated as a member of the Brotherhood. He has proven himself capable of more extensive training, and receives it from the High Command during scheduled drills, or from an Ensign who selects them as their apprentice. The Gardist’s status as a newly initiated Guard gives him a small amount of slack in disciplinary situations, and High Command may be more lenient with them depending on their time as a Gardist and the offense. The Gardist is the first rank permitted to wear the colors of the Holy See upon his tabard. --Initiate-- The Initiate is one who dwells in the Pool of Consideration, and has not been selected from the Pool or been directly Chosen to bypass the Pool. He is not yet a member of the Palatine Guard, and therefore his actions do not reflect the Guard. The Initiate is considered under a trial phase, and he undergoes basic training to consider his worth. The Selection To serve in the Palatine Guard, one must be of at least sixteen years, a male, of the Human race and a faithful member of the Church of the Canon. I. To Be Considered Any faithful man above the age of sixteen may actively apply to the Consideration Pool. If their application is accepted, they shall be given room and board and the title “Initiate.” During their time in the Consideration Pool, no man is considered a member of the Palatine Guard. They shall, however, be expected to attend to whatever duties are assigned to them by any Officer of the Brotherhood, as well as attending regular drills, competitions, and sermons. Through these means, the Commandant and his officers shall evaluate each and every initiate and decide upon the fate of that initiate. Below is the public application to the Consideration Pool.

Sìle McCéin (Oddessa of Orvar) Nicknames: Ddessa, Sìe(Like 'sigh'), Chosen One, Blessed One Age: 17 Gender: female Race: Highlander Status: Nomad Description Height: 6'0" Weight: 170 Body Type: Muscle, hour-glass Eyes: Gold Hair: Golden/blonde Skin: Fair Markings/Tattoos: Raised birthmark on right side of neck opposite to Ruari's, but exactly same mark Health: Healthy and strong; very strong immune system. Personality: Quiet, anti-social, loner-like, affectionate, kind, gentle, logical Inventory: Mostly floral things that are within her hair Further Details: Innocent and very new to other races, cultures, and so on. Life Style Alignment: Neutral Deity: Secretly - Gorund, Lagara, Draug, Oknar, Andarta, Belenus, Ankou, Argal Religion: secretly - Gorundyr Pagan Alliance/Nation/Home: Gorundyr Job/Class: N/A* Title(s): N/A* Profession(s): N/A* Special Skill(s): Way with nature, apothecary Flaw(s): Trust issues, anti-social, ignorant, cares too much *Not available at this moment, as this is a fresh, new, character. Weaponry Fighting Style: Sword-and-board & Archery Trained Weapon(s): Sword-and-board, Archery Favored Weapon: Archery Archery: Ornate longbow adorning several little feathers, furs, leather strips, beads, and unrecognised coin-like pendants Biography Parents: Morvan and Ketiley of Orvar Sibling(s): Ruari (Twin), Aero, Aedan, Kaira, Sivvee, Curan, Eogan Children: N/A Extended Family: Aela Obsidian-Arm, Aeron the Farsighted, Ragaros Sheepskin, Torkel of Orvar, Hafgan the Simple, Andartus of Orvar, Tyke of Orvar, Percival of Orvar Pet(s): Albino, large, snow fox, Siiva. History Oddessa, or Sìle as most know her, was born in the north in Aethera in Aesterwald as a Gorundyr just before the fall of Aesterwald. Not but shortly after her and Ruari's, her Twin Brother, or Fínn as others know him, were born they were taken away from their home and brought to a Gorundyr Ritual Home, in distant land, far from any harm and hidden deep within a mountain, covered by endless amounts of snow. There, Oddessa and Ruari were raised. Right away, Morvan and Ketiley of Orvar noticed something unique about them. Right then, with the birth marks of Gorund, the fair skin, gold eyes, and bright-blonde hair, the Prestr's (Gorundyr Priests), and the Twins' parents knew they were blessed with children from the Father God himself. Seeing as a rising darkness was to come, the Gorundyr felt thankful and hoped that these two children of Gorund would defeat Maratsu, the Fallen One. As the children grew, due to their seclusion, much like the Gorundyr culture of old in the Savaar of Anthos, they were very ignorant and hearty in health. Because of the harsh weather in the mountains, the cold and the white surrounding was a familiar place to them. Because of their Gorundyr blood, their stature is quite large, meaty, muscular, and tall. Their fair skin is not only a genetic thing, but is also due to the lack of sunlight from their snowy surrounds. Oddessa seems to be a very timid, but knowledgeable girl with her nose in a book at any moment, or learning new ways to put her apothecary expertise to work. Most of her time is spent in a library, away from people, in a garden, or quietly glued to her Twin Brother, Ruari. The Twins seem to be quite opposite in personally, but both hold trust issues from the odd, dangerous, exciting, gruesome, and disturbing stories that were told by the Prestress, Prestrs, and their parents. Secretly, they have a burning hatred for most Creator worshipers, but were told to blend in, as they need to keep their identity a secret. Their only hope when they finally come back home to the place they were born is to fit in, find a home, and find more Gorundyr. Character Looks

The Grand King Hodir Doomforge drops his watchful gaze down on a large map of Athera, with a firm nod he’d pinch a little Dwarven figure between his index finger and thumb, slowly dragging it across the map as he suddenly comes to a halt at Drakenburg. “We will liberate tha’ entoire Norf ‘o Orenian scum, we’re goin’ on tha’ offensive.” The Grand Marshal would simply nod in unison with his fellow commanders. “Let us mobilize, fortify an’ inform ‘oor allies ‘o tha’ upcomin’ siege.” Hodir would quickly slam down his fist on the table, with a frown he’d exclaim. “Enuff toyin’ ‘roond, toime t’ey taste tha soles ‘o ‘oor boots, ye be dismissed.” WARCLAIM Type of Battle: Conquest Time & Date: 5PM EST, 7th of March Attacking Forces: The Grand Kingdom of Urguan + Allies Defending Forces: Drakenburg inhabitants + Allies Location and Boundaries: n_savannaplot3 (Known as Drakenburg) + canyonmain Red square is borders for the WC, black area is where the Alliance's / Dwarven fortifications will be built. Terms of Victory: Victory for attacking team: If the defenders are all killed or driven out of the battle area. Victory for the defending team: If the attackers are all killed or driven out of the battle area. Rewards: Victory for the attackers means n_savannaplot3 ownership will be transferred to the Grand Kingdom of Urguan, so they may use it as they please. Victory for the defenders means the region may not be war claimed for a time based off the suggestions of non affiliated Game Moderators with the consent of both sides. Rules: Server rules No team killing No fake statuses No returning to battle No meta-gaming No underground fort modifications prior to this post. All additional fortifications must be on ground level or above. All items in this location may not be transferred to another, starting now.

Deities: Sáventón. King of the Gods (older brother of Qyrfros), He wears a Crown moulded out of a pure white Gold, he is a towering Figure, neither Brutal nor Elegant, his Armour consists of a Simple look, Mortal armour, in a grey/silver colour. He wears a huge cloak made from various different Furs that covers his Shoulders and his back, it drapes along the floor behind him. In battle he wields a simple War-axe along with a Simple wooden round shield. Sáventón is said to be the first of the Gods, it was he who was created Thorgir, God of Wisdom. A large, thin man in blue robes with Golden accents, he often holds a Staff, he has long white Hair with a long White beard. Asvaldr, God Of Light. Asvaldr is incredibly attractive, he is young with long, Gold flowing locks with a perfectly pruned Beard that splits off into two Plats. His armour is full plate, the Majority of it a Shining silver starlight, the trim of the armour is styled as the Golden wings of a great eagle, the Chainmail of his armour is said to be made from pure starlight, it twinkles with every spec of light in his Halls, His helmet is composed of the Same design, exposing his mouth and eyes, the back of the Helmet styles two Golden wings again resembling an Eagles. Finally he wields a large Kiteshield that acts as if a Mirror, the trim of it Gold, in his main hand he holds a Golden Sword that shines with immense Beauty, the Hilt again styled as Eagle wings. It is said that those who follow a Particularly good and Righteous path will end up in Innos hall, where they will eventually go to War with Beliar for the last time during Angurmiror Kárágór- God of Balance. Seen as a massive and brutish figure clad in a darkened and crude looking platemail, the torso covered by an ebony tabard with an eye upon the centre. Its helm masks its visage, taking a crude shape, the metal lost its shine, save for the centre line that ran down the helmet, and around the serpentine esque eyeholes. He can be seen with a massive scutum shield and a large bastard sword. It is keen on creating both good and bad within the world, order and chaos are its agenda, with the right amount creates perfection in the bulwark's eyes. Beliar, God of Darkness. Not much is known of Beliar, he is depicted of having dark transparent Robes that cover the majority of his body, his legs inexistant, the torn robes seem to float freely as he does, his face is as black as night, his facial features seemingly nonexistent, a mere shadow. He does not speak a word to a single soul, he merely glides across his Dungeons, terrifying the men inside with what he will do to the World next. Yrasil, God of Victory Amalie(Twin of Reftia), Goddess of Marriage, Love. Seen as a small, thin woman with flowing white hair, not exactly beautiful yet Kind and Motherly. She wears Blue robes similar to those of Qyfros, It is said that those who have deep enough love for each other will go to her Halls, however for this to happen they must either die while still together or they must remain faithful to their dead lover until it is their turn to enter the halls, Emdur, God of Haste/Work. Reftia (Twin of Timheia), Goddess of Fertility Gónthórián, God of War. A huge mammoth of a Man with long Brown locks and a thick brown Beard, he wears Theatrical armour styled with Huge 2 inch thick heavy plates around his Waist, His right Shoulder is covered with the same 2 inch thick plates, with large Bull Horns that protrude outwards from it, his shins are covered again with the 2 inch thick plates, the knee caps in the style of Jawless Skulls, around his Thighs he wears around 4 layers of thick, large ringed Chainmail covering the majority of his thighs in a Tassett like fashion. His covers almost all of his Face, the eyes shadowed out, his mouth and jaw exposed however, Horns also protrude from his helmet, one of them cracked and damaged. He holds a Huge Round shield about the size of himself, it is not made from wood but of the Bones of the men he has slain, all compacted to make a Strong shield with a Blackened Steel rim and Boss. Those who are passionate enough about War to enter the Halls will Dine and Drink for eternity, they will also Fight each other over and over as much times as they wish, without feeling the Pain or Suffering of wounds yet still feel the Adrenaline of a Fight. Frigg, Goddess of beauty, innocence(Sister to Rán, Twins) Seen as a beautifully figured woman in a dress of pure Diamond starlight which exposes part of her legs and arms. Her hair blonde and wavy, her eyes a pure blue, she has feathered white Dove wings that arch from her back. Tyr, God of the Sea. Depicted as a man with Kraken like tentacles as legs, his arms and chest strong and mighty from pulling Oars, his skin Ocean Blue, it is said that those with Ocean Blue eyes are blessed by him. His halls are said not to exist, instead, it is said that he travels the Seas of the Halls in a Large, Nordic vessel, the Oars pulled by the Men who are Sailors, they drink, feast and Row for eternity, enjoying every moment. Rán, God of Hate, Deception(Brother to Frigg(Twins) A grim looking, evil man with Grey and wretched hair, he is old and decrepit, his left eye the colour of blood, he holds a Crudely made staff in his left hand and has claws that protrude from his Fingers. Dóndrákar, God of Death, Afterlife. Depicted as a crude Raven with ruffled feathers and inexistant eyes, his wings are missing many feathers, the wing Bones can be seen through it, some say that the Raven is depicted as half man half Raven, while others say he is wholly a Raven, some even say that he is composed of Hundreds and Thousands of Ravens, however this is a rare belief. Zamváhstáh, God of all that is Evil, the fallen one Life after death: When a Darweigin dies it is not as simple as reaching the High Halls, First their soul must be taken to Judgement, their soul will be gathered by Dóndrákar and then they will be taken to Adanos Halls for judging, if they are judged as a Just or Righteous person they may stay and feast there however usually they will be taken to the halls of other gods. There are several different Halls for different people, for example a Warrior may go to the Halls of Gónthórián while a Craftsman may go to Emdur’s Halls. Here they would drink with their God and feast with them and also perform their craft/skill there. They believe that very few men go to Sáraventón’s halls, this would be considered as a Blessing, these Men/Women would have to devote their life to this God in order to enter his halls, they would also have to show their prowess in Battle, Skills and overall Morale, Honour and Discipline. If a Darweigin has lived a particularly poor life by having a lack of respect for their Kin and often doing Heinous and Unforgiving acts it is believed that they will be confined to the Dungeons of either Rán or Beliar for eternity where they will be Stripped of all Titles and Honour and will be Tormented by them for Eternity. It is said that if a Man permits the Worst of acts that they will be sent to the pit of Zamváhstáh which is a fate feared by many, there they will be forced to watch their Loved ones suffer and will be Beaten, Flayed, Chained and Starved for Eternity. Military structure: Merkismathr Only one may hold this rank within the clan. The Champion, anyone may hold this, they're the best warrior and may show their worth within honour duels. Anyone within the clan may try to grab this rank within Tournaments held by the Chieftain. They do not gain any rank within the military structure, but have the respect of the warriors and chieftain and may be used to fight other clans. Shield-Maiden. The women warriors of the Leidang. These women have proved themselves able to have the same power as a Huskarl. Each of these women have a number of arm-rings and also will have a necklace showing their rank, they've the support of the men and the women of the county and are also the private guards of the leaders. Huskarl. The Huskarl. The top warrior of all. Able to access the armour stores and, in the absence of one of the three leaders, may control the Leidang. They're elite of the elite, war-hardened. They've proven themselves multiple times within war. The personal knights of the Country. They've the respect of the lower ranks and the leaders. Normally these men bare a huge amount of arm-rings given to them by One of the three leaders, this shows their prowess. Also normally have their own necklace to show their rank-A wolf's head with an axe head in its mouth. Berserker. The Berserker, men whom are known to be furious in battle. Each of them showing their anger within battle and channeling this rage into their fighting. Although not always the elite soldiers, each of these men are known to bare some prowess in battle and would bear a name to show this. Well respected, these men can normally control a small amount of men, and in some cases, they're able to lead the training during war-games of the Leidang. Each of these men normally have some arm-rings. Ráðningar. Are chosen by their superiors to handle the introduction of new warriors into an established war-band. The warband must be of well-minded men to create the ultimate shield-wall. The warband will be led by this rank, however, will contain a Berserker and Huskarl to help the Radningar with any of the inferior decisions. The Huskarl has the final say if the decision is bad, but overall the Radningar may appeal to the Clan Chieftain over a decision. Thegn. Older or veteran warriors.. Thegn's are seasoned soldiers, participants of multiple expeditions and shield walls. They are fierce men, brought up learning warrior skills,and have survived the brutalities of the shield wall and war.This Rank is the next step to becoming one of the three top tier ranks. Dreng. The standard rank within the Leidang. These men are the new recruits and hold only the title of Younger. These men have only little respect within the culture. These men have to prove themselves within the shield-wall and battle that they can earn the loyalty and brethren ship within the clan. Stúrandér Any child from their 10th birthday up to their 15th birthday. They can now begin serious training as warriors and may go to battle with the warriors/raiders. They do not go into battles, but to fetch and carry items, loots, or take water to the thirsty and tend the wounded. Lifestyle: Building style: Old Norse. (This is just an example, Jamziboy style) Physical appearance: The physical appearance of a Darweigin is rather simple. It is common for the people of Darweigin decent and heritage to have blonde, red, aubern, fair, and dark brown hair. Their eyes are usually gray, aqua blue, dark blue, brown, or slate gray. The height of a male stands normally up to 6'5" and occasionally inches further. The women are usually 5'9" and up. Their physique is usually that of a brutish structure. The frames of the males grow more and more muscular as they reach their coming of age. Their harsh and hellish lifestyle with the numerous training of battle from an early age helping to develop such. recipes History: The Darweigans are obvious descendants of the Humans. Back in the days of Anthos the Darweigans born within the harsh mountain terrains of Anthos within the North. The Darweigans. A collection of different clans laid rest within their lands in peace. Away from the wars that raged within the southern lands. The clans themselves however were never closely tied, each bringing war-bands together to raid deeper south, united under the different Chieftains of the Clans. For many Centuries these men raided. As the years went by however they had to raid deeper South, raiding only smaller villages and coming home to their families with nothing. The Clan of Fáóláinson, under the leadership of Thórvurdir raided east. In the hopes of new life to be found. He, only bringing a few in number pillaged the lands as he sailed. Raiding whatever he could find. Upon returning, he was smitten by the other Clans. War was raged against the Clan of Fáólainson, the series of Skirmishes were brutal. Shield-walls against former friends. Former Shield-brothers. The war lasted for ten years. The lands that once prospered were nothing but a wasteland. Upon the last day of the battle. A new man stood within the Fáolainson shield wall. A mere teen, though he stood taller, stronger than most humans. His name was Thórvárdr. The battle was a massacre. Lasting four hours. The dead lay upon the snowy fields of Kollsvik. The Fáolainson’s looked upon the dead from the hills. A cruel smile raised upon Thórvárdr’s face.. Peace was once again brought the Darweigans, living peacefully under Clan Fáolainson. The former enemy tribes now peaceful once more. The Clans soon prospered once more, peace brought to them, the raiding having being stopped for many years brought new gifts, until the time the gods rained hell fire upon the mortal raises of Anthos. Smiting them with only one choice but to leave with the rest of them. Having packed small supplies. The clans did not dwindle and escaped at a quick pace. Upon entering the ruined site of Cloud temple, the men, women and children all stood, scared of what was about to become of them. The prophecies had for told of such an event, the name of it, Vegnirik. Many thought this was the end of the races all together. However. The gods had toyed with them. The needles had been thread. Ushering everyone out of Anthos. Thórvárdr was killed. Leaving the Darweigans once more..alone for the gods to spindle their destinies. Common practises: Skalds: The creator has it’s priests, as does every religion. Skalds are seen as the gods whisperers, believed to, at birth have direct contact with a certain god, these priests are sought out by men and women a-like to find out what the future will bring to them, however these men are often said to have a certain glimpse into it, and never will they know the full picture. ((OOC note: Normally the Skalds guess the future, they have no real direct contact to any god for that matter, they’re simply believed to be.)) These men normally set out on pilgrimage, seeking out mounds of the gods, in which they may delve deeper into their knowledge so they may preach it to the Darweigan people. The Blood-eagle: The brutal execution performed to the traitors. The men are sacrificed to Addnos, and sent to the halls as to where they will be judged, the blood-eagled deprives on cutting down a person/s back and braking the ribs from behind and pulling them out of the wound. All who watch the Execution must watch, out of respect for the man whom is getting executed, if one does not watch, then they are to be punished by whatever the chieftain deems necessary. The Grand Hunt: The Grand Hunt happens once every Elven month. Men of each Clan come together in Friendship, bringing their best hunters with them. The Grand Hunt lasts three days. On the first day feasts are held to Celebrate the fallen of battle and to also celebrate the Harvest brought in by the farmers. The second day consists of the big hunt. In which the different Clans set of at a route, and try to bring as much animal pelt and meat as they can back. The winning Clan gains all the Animal pelts from the rival clans. The Third and last day consists of eating all the meat that was brought back from the prior day,as well as more food from the harvests. Alcohol is also present, which normally leads to brawling. Feasts: Feasts are a common occurrence, bring allies and Darweigans together to celebrate. Such as an alliance being formed or a battle being won. They’re normally for anything that needs celebrating. Feats can have many different outcomes. Depending on whom is around. Be it just Darweigans. Men may be sacrificed to the gods to win their favour. Songs are sung of ancient heroes and the battles that were won by them. It all varies. Weapons and armour The men and women of the Darweigans normally wear a standard Chainmail Hauberk which covers their body and also down to there waist, most normally wearing standard trousers/pants in which are covering mail from underneath to protect the flesh beneath. However the Warlords of the Darweigans normally have a mixture Chain and plate, due to the expense of it all. Many of the men wield swords of fine steel, however many have the choice of what they would want to weild. Axes being more common due to the ease of pulling a shield down within the shield-wall. Also the Standard warrior carries a rounded-shield, even if they wield a two handed blade, this is for extra protection, if they’re in need of it to protect against arrows. (Darweigin is basically a mixture of the different Scandinavian countries, the gods are heavily based of odinism, which Ancient Vikings believed in. The Culture is open to anyone, but please before hand, if you wish to create a Clan, send me a message through either my skype: jakeyd6 or through the forums. Thanks)

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Finn No-Name Nicknames: None yet. Age: 25 Gender: Male Race: Human Highlander Status: Alive and determined. Description Height: 5'6'' Weight: 172 Body Type: Stocky Eyes: Green Hair: Dark Red, slicked back Skin: Light Skin, slightly tanned Markings/Tattoos: None (yet) Health: Normal, no injuries or sickness Personality Archetype- Tearatologist Studying monsters, to destroy them. -read anything pertaining to monsters -constantly seek better ways to destroy them Trouble - Us vs Them Sees it as Humanity vs Iblees, Darkness, Monsters, Whatever is threatening humanity. -makes him slightly bigoted against other races - will not willingly fight with other races - dislikes buying/selling to other races Other Characteristics: I Came Prepared - Got potions, smokebombs, a gold tipped stake, a hatchet, a net, 15 feet of spider silk rope, enchanted leather coat, steel tipped shoes, knife, some garlic jerky, a tent and a bag to hold all them in without me being weighed down. How yah like meh now? - learn enchanting and alchemy -and tinkering for mechanical items Let’s Party - Never hunt alone. Also, drink large amounts of alcohol to soothe the pain of losing your wife to the forces of darkness. - Keep a party of at least 4 humans when hunting. - Dat damage bonus. It’s Not Paranoia if They're Out to Get Me - Worried constantly that creatures of darkness, necromancers, Ikuras, and Giant Miniature Space Hamsters are out to get him. Does not discuss his abilities or history with people he doesn’t trust implicitly. Weaponry Fighting Style: Stab or Burn it until it stops moving. Also recently added Crossbow for long range encounters. Trained Weapon: None Favored Weapon: Blessed Ferrum Dirk Archery: Little skill, but training Biography Parents: Missing Siblings: None Wife: Dead Children: None Extended Family: None Pet(s): None

The King’s Watch of Abresi Duties of the Watch Protection of Officials: Protect (King, mayor, official, etc) when travelling or at home. Peacekeeping: Enforcing of laws, keeping the peace. Four Basic Breaches of Law Disruption of Peace: Shouting, yelling, general nuisance, trespassing Assault: Assault, murder, attacking someone, threats Theft: Either of property or of a person Destruction of Property: Arson, vandalism Heresy: preaching of heretical views, expression of heresy, unfaithful views to the Creator Pay & Uniforms Pay Guards are paid a sum of 250 Minas every year (two real life weeks.) Captains are paid double the sum, at 500 Minas a year. A bonus of 1,000 Minas is available for guards who are seen by a Captain as most productive of the year. Uniforms Each guard is supplied a fresh uniform that they are expected to wear always when on duty. Captain Guard Application Out-of-Character Minecraft username: Do you have Skype?: In-Character Full name: Gender: Age: Race: Do you live in Abresi?:

~Orpheus~ Nicknames: Three-legged dog, Hound. Age: 33. Gender: Male. Race: Northener. Status: Alive and injured. ~Description~ Height: 6'1. Weight: 190lb. Body Type: Average build, muscular. Eyes: Blue. Hair: Dark brown. Skin: Pale. Markings/Tattoos: No left hand and light scarring on his face. Health: Injured. Personality: Short-tempered, bipolar, helpful and kind. Inventory: An Iron Warhammer with his name engraved on it strapped to his back, along with a long bow holstered on his torso, a canteen of water and a sack where he keeps his food and trinkets. Further Details: N/A. ~Lifestyle~ Alignment*: Lawful Neutral. Deity*: N/A. Religion: N/A. Alliance/Nation/Home: Oren. Job/Class: Decterum soldier. Title(s): N/A. Profession(s): Mining and Blacksmithing. Special Skill(s): Linguistic skills. Flaw(s): Hatred of the Undead. (Sort of a flaw?) ~Magic~ Current Status: N/A. Arch-type: N/A. Sub-Type: N/A. Rank: N/A. Weakness(es) N/A.: Strength(s): N/A. Current Spell(s): N/A. ~Weaponry~ Fighting Style: Sluggish. Trained Weapon[s]: Blunt weapons and bows. Favored Weapon: Warhammer. ~Biography~ Parents: Names unknown, (Deceased) Siblings: Aleksandr (Deceased) Children: N/A. Extended Family: Possibly some distant relatives. Pet(s): A raven named Hank who he uses to deliver messages. Image: http://i.imgur.com/MgCEIPQ.jpg and http://i.imgur.com/lIAnzLE.jpg

Kristian von Craw Nicknames: The Crawfish, Kristian, Kris, Mali'llir Age: 50 Gender: Male Race: Human Status: Dead as of the 31st of the Grand Harvest, 1459 Description Height: 6'1" Weight: 180 Body Type: Muscular Eyes: Gray Hair: Brown Skin: Tan (Caucasian) Markings/Tattoos: A birthmark that stretches across his face, Health: Decaying Personality: Kind, honor-bound, chivalrous Inventory: A black and red blade created by 'The Dark Master', and a morningstar. He also carries armor and rations for a few days worth of traveling. Further Details: When apart from the red and black sword, Kristian may seem to age incredibly quickly, his life slipping away. Life Style Alignment*: Neutral Evil Deity*: The Creator Religion: God of all Creations Alliance/Nation/Home: Scion/ Elven Nations/ Home in Conclave Job/Class: Hired sword Title(s): Mali'llir, Ex-Arbiter, Scion, Delver Regent Profession(s): Guarding, Special Skill(s): Swordsmanship, Political awareness, speaking Flaw(s): A giant birthmark that covers his face normally causes people to back away in fear... and made him a loner for many years. He is also a bit clumsy. Cannot use a composite or longbow to save his life. At all. Weaponry Fighting Style: Always with honor and generally in the form of a duel. Trained Weapon: Sword, 33 years. Scythe, 2 years. Morningstar, 12 years. Favored Weapon: Morningstar Archery: "Been trainin' for 2 seasons in the Valiants with a crossbow." Biography Parents: Unknown Siblings: Ragnar von Craw, Samwell Flynt Children: Robard von Craw, Kelsey von Craw, Tina (taken in), Isabella Thenelthin (sort of), Maldric von Craw Extended Family: Unknown Pet(s): A dog named Brav, dead as of 1438 History The Early Years The First Days [The battle for Oren] Adventure: Out to sea [The Return and Delver Days] [The Start of the Lumi'drim and Zaniil's deal] New Malinor rises [The Scions] [New family, left and right] The fall of New Malinor [Conclave rising] The retirement of Kristian von Craw [A terrible curse] [The Battle for Lenniel] Entering the Fringe The Death of Kristian von Craw OOC: Kristian began a wanderer, and ended a wanderer. All in all, he was an amazing character to play. Artwork By Teerz: By Keem: By myself: By Renai

Trier Garrison The Trier Garrison is the soldiers located within in the County of Trier, who are housed, trained, and fed there. They act as a support role for the Royal Oren Army, providing assistance in various jobs such as siege-works infantry, and anything else needed. Soldiers are trained in the use of longswords, crossbows or longbows, halberds, shieldwork, and siege weapons. Specialists can be trained in other weapons, or if they are proficient with a weapon or style, they are free to use that, such as two handed swords, or axes. Armor and weaponry are given, along with boarding and food. It's within walking distance to the Capital, meaning easy access to the pubs and taverns, or shops. Duties of the Garrison when not in battle, it patrols, scouting, and keeping the peace around Trir, and the area surrounding the Capital, and other special jobs, such as raiding bandit groups, or other unsatisfactory factions. Recruit: Newly recruited soldiers who have little to no battle experience. They receive training and armor and weaponry upon proving battle competence, which would elevate them to a Footman. Footman: Those who have been promoted from Recruit, or have proven they are battle tested and competent fighters. They are given armor, assigned to a unit, and weaponry. Usually chain armor with plate mixed in, depending on current stocks. They are given armor and weapons on request. Sergeant: Sergeants lead units, and are in charge of giving orders to Footmen and recruits during operations and missions, or even patrol. They are given plate armor, weaponry, and supplies upon request, depending on current stocks. They take orders from captains, and have proven their worth as a leader, and veteran soldier. Captain: Captains are usually part of the Heinzreich family, or those who have outshone their others, and proven to be model warriors, and astounding leaders. They give orders and assignments to Units, and report to the Count of Trier directly. They have unlimited access to supplies, and private quarters.

Grey Company In ages past, the rulers of Oren were protected by the Dragon Guard, who were later dismissed for a lack of need and incompetence. The duty fell to the Lion, who were disbanded into the Red Dragon, and they had other duties to attend to. This led to King William III of Horen to commission Grey Company, and elite bodyguard answerable only to him. The duty of Grey Company is to protect the Crown, and it's family, but firstly the Monarch. They take orders from the King alone, and not even the regent would command them. For if need arose, they would even remove a corrupt regent if he was threatening Royal power and rule. They would put the kings life above all, and risk anything to save him, even the capital or royal blood. Equipped with superior arms, armor, and skills, they make sure the king is never in danger, his tasks are completed or they die trying. Commander: Responsible for maintaining the guard and keeping it running smoothly, he is a veteran and excelled as a member of Grey Company. He distributed assignments to the Company. (( IC title would be [Grey Commander] )) Captain: Captains often lead field missions and act as leaders to Grey Company. They have shown to be excellent in their assignments and tasks, Along with showing an aptitude for leading. (( IC title would be [Grey Captain] )) Company guard: The basic rank of Grey Company. Those from veteran to newly inducted are seen as equals unless obviously promoted. Knowledge is expected to be shared, and lessons taught throughout the Company. (( IC title would be [Grey Company] )) Application of below, send it out to the Palace and we will find it

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=zCTWp7heCaU Marching through the meadows in which the Anthos Crossroad was inlaid, the many soldiers of varying rank and file within the Dwarven Legion and the varying Oren militaries had crossed the Rubicon finally as war broke out along Central Anthos. Axe met sword and the heavy infantries and archers did away with the calm loamy soil one pluck at a time as arrow upon arrow tilled the earth; readying to be fed the blood money as man and dwarf collided in a match of wit and strength. Through hours of grueling tactical maneuvers, the sun pleading with skin-prickling rays of light upon and through layers of armor for the spawn of Urguan and Horen to not cross the point of no return; soldiers of varying heights and mettle clashed in time. As sword and board danced along the Cloudwater Bridge, Man had planted heel and pushed, it's numbers making for the harshest charge to finally open the crevices of the Dwarven lines and inevitably led to the routing of the Dwarves back to which they felt safer. As Man marched to and fro, firstly in a reckless and endearing charge, then back from whence they came. The strewn bodies of dwarf and man laid for vultures to partake in feast, where man earns haughty impressions of himself and the sword of his fallen foe; vultures do commit to a charitable feast in which they need not be invited. The scene, especially at the Dwarven end of Cloudwater Bridge, is a most gruesome one not for the ones unsettled by the lifeless. The Perished Meadows have now adapted to it's new dress of bones, blood, and unsightly things; the odor rank and the sight tinging many with tears and haunting dreams. Will the denizens of Anthos hearken to what symbolism this may portray? ((I would like to state that some bodies are out and about, you do NOT need a VA to loot them))

Swaine Age: 17 Gender: Male Race: Human (Half-Salvian, Half-Adunian) Status: Right hand and wrist no longer function. Description Height: 5' 7" Weight: 123 lbs. Body Type: Thin, smaller build Eyes: Greenish Hazel Hair: Curly, dark-brown Skin: A very light-tan Personality: One for little to no respect for authority, Swaine has always been a rebel. He is a man who follows his own wishes. Rebellious as he is, Swaine has his own set of guidelines he follows. Swaine has had no real parent figure to follow so these guidelines are rather... abstract but not too insane. His parents' absense has left him with a negative and untrusting look at the world. He believes in living up to your dreams; "...if one has nothing to die for, why live?..." One defining feature is his consistent sarcastic mood. A theif by nature, Swaine will never give up his steal or give into authority (though these stealings are small). Usually almost at the underhand if caught, he has no shame in running away. He knows what he does is wrong but is also nescesary for him to live on as he wants. Swaine still has a heart just don't expect him to show it to you. Inventory Clothing: Swaine wears a dark green bandana, a yellow top with a very dark green vest, black pants with an old belt, and old leather shoes. He doesn't carry much with him at all and most of everything is kept in a pouch tied to the inside of the vest so it is concealed (another is kept on the other side as well). Weaponry: The only weapon he carries is a rather embarrasing old dagger with a small crack through the back. He rarely gets into combat with anybody unless it is absolutely necessary so it is rarely used to defend or attack. It is mainly used to cut openings in pouches and bags to steal items. Further Details: There is a small leather holster just behind his wrist that holds his dagger, this allows him to slip it out of his sleeve at a moments notice and also conceal the fact that he is cutting something. (and no you Assassin's Creed fans, it is not like that; it is a simple leather strap with a buckle or two) Life Style Alignment*: Chaotic Neutral Religion: Swaine does not really have a set religion, but is not an athiest. Alliance/Nation/Home: He is nomadic but usually spends a long period of time before heading to the next area. Job/Class: Swaine is a common pickpocket. He prefers to do things more towards stealth and going unnoticed. It is generally unheard of him mugging someone. He does not know how to pick locks so does not break into buildings and houses. "What is yours is yours. Well. That is until I get to it. ..." Swaine is a con-man aswell but this isn't really his primary way of profiting, it is more oriented towards manipulating others to do as he wants. Swaine listens for important information he picks up from the streets by overhearing conversations and will use it to bargain with someone who needs it. Special Skill(s): Swaine has learned to be stealthy and quick on his feet. He can also climb well but isn't exactly from Mirror's Edge. He can think of interesting ways to get out of things. Flaw(s): He is uneducated and had no real parents to bring him up. Also, he lacks alot of strength and combat training. His strong will makes him incredibly stubborn. He is also untrusting of nearly everyone. Backstory Swaine has had a very hard life. He never really knew his parents. He wouldn't want to anyway. One of his earliest and most vivid memories is being literally thrown away at the age of 3, turning on 4. He does not know much, other than he came from a poor family and his name. His father was a proud Adunian, his mother was Salvian. Swaine believes his family lived in Salvus and was completely Salvian mainly because that is most of his defining features and also the place where he was abandoned. Since his parents had left him on the outskirts of town, Swaine had been emotionally lost. He had to rely on others while he was at such a young age. Never really wanting a home other than with his parents, he was never kept to one caretaker for a long time. He was often running away. Eventually he began developing thoughts of hate towards them for just simply abandoning him. He dropped his last name. These dark thoughts began to make him think why he should really trust anyone. From that point on, he would stop living from these kind caretakers and live on his own. At this point, Swaine was about 12. Out on the streets is where he experienced true hunger.This is where his life as a pickpocket began. Swaine refused to beg, he was his own responsibility. He stole from the markets to feed himself and stole the minas from unsuspecting patrons. Soon word spread about the young cutpurse. The theives of the city managed to lure him in. These theives became his mentors. He grew up learning how to steal and eventually became independent. Knowing he couldn't stay in one place any longer with all the attention he has brought to himself, he began moving every so often.