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[Dreamshell]

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[Dreamshell]

Pandarsenic:

Name: Beatrix Messekind
Sex: Female
Age: 64
Race: Half-Elf

Appearance: Beatrix has an androgynous appearance; she binds her breasts for practical purposes and keeps her hair short, proudly displaying the soft points of her half-elvish heritage. She dresses neck-to-toes in layers of alchemically treated leather. At her hips she has a pair of short swords, and on her back she has her heavy javelins. Brown-haired and green-eyed, a touch on the tall side for a human but with a fairly regular build, she is a fairly ordinary-looking half-elvish female, scarcely different from any of hundreds of others with the misfortune to be born in Thungria.

This all changes when she enters a Blood Rage. In that state, her muscle mass grows substantially, straining the armor to its limits. Her eyes assume a bright yellow coloration with a gleam of insanity and she assumes a feral, hunched posture.

Personality: Calling Beatrix unstable is like calling Thungria unsafe or her childhood troubled. Growing up in the s**t-hole that is Thungria led to her convincing herself that, of all the problems of being a half-elvish, half-human, rape-conceived, orphaned Thungrian, obviously the source of the issues was being human. Beatrix is self-centered and determined to become more elvish, wrapping herself in a delusion that if she was a full-blood elf everything would be better somehow from which she draws her only hope of happiness. To that end, she adheres closely to many stereotypes about them, even making a respectable but unsuccessful effort to demonstrate their casual sociopathy. Knowing that she won't live forever or as good as it like "real" elves is also something she's become rather hung up on.

Skills: Beatrix's skills include stabbing, slashing, throwing things which stab into the things they land on/in, alchemy, cutting/slashing, minor (and not formally trained) natural magic, gardening, care for small animals, and tanning. She can also recognize several composers' works by ear, even from only a few notes.

Background: 64 years ago, in a small village in Thungria, Beatrix Messekind was born; starting with the death of her mother minutes later, her life has gotten progressively worse ever since. Her first childhood friend was one of the very few human girls in the village who didn't hate her as a matter of principal and the only one who would speak to Beatrix. Said childhood friend died during a routine raid by the region's goblinoids when Beatrix was fourteen. She found this friend in a burning building, gutted. Beatrix dragged her friend out of the burning building, but within minutes she died in Beatrix's arms, her face a mask of silent agony with blood pouring from her throat.

Beatrix's second friend was during the tail end of her early years; a village boy who found her exotic had been dared to talk to her by his friends, and he'd seized the opportunity to befriend her, to the chagrin of his peers and parents. She'd been the one to find him dead, as well. A vampire had passed through the region and left his dry, stiff corpse in his house. Beatrix came across him, and when she tried to shake him awake his dessicated skin and flesh crumbled at her touch.

At this point, her reputation as a source of bad luck was enough that nobody would talk to her; she left the village soon after. Acquiring passage to Stival in exchange for all her worldly possessions, she arrived with nothing more than her only permitted openly human trait - her willingness to learn. She became a fast friend of an alchemist who taught her his art. She was a natural at it, a fast learner and an eager student who always pleased her teacher with her insights.

Then came the Teleportation Incident. She never spoke to a single person of the state of the corpse of her teacher - her third and final friend - when she found it, only informed people of the bribe quantity and quality she was offered by the offending mage to not seek his death. Not knowing what do, she'd complied; soon after, she delved into the late teacher's alchemical library under the guise of organizing it for donation the city library as per his will, to which they were eventually meant to be delivered. Each day and night, Beatrix delved into book after book, not knowing what she was looking for, hardly eating, drinking, or sleeping for weeks.

And then she found the Troll Blood potion, eventually, a nature-powered formula that fit her desire to be more elvish: the Troll Blood potion would grant her immense regenerative powers and strength. The hardest part of that was killing the troll after weeks of wasting away. To that end, she trained built her body back from the ground up, reforging herself into a fighting machine with months of singleminded training. She then went into the swamp and beheaded the strongest troll she could find, took a large quantity of its blood, and distilled from it a quantity of earth elemental essence. One short ritual and a drink later, she was the first in perhaps centuries to imbibe a Troll Blood cocktail, and to discover that when a nature-magic-powered substance is designed to provide a benefit to humans, it provides an even greater one to a half-elf. Beatrix now could regenerate, at a visible rate, wounds or lost limbs (limbs being regenerated by the sequential replacement of cartilage, bone, muscle, fat, and finally skin, a process which takes roughly two hilarious days of her being utterly incoherent). Her muscle mass condensed, compacting her now-supernatural strength into a normal-looking frame.

And she gained the Blood Rage, a state in which her blood flow increases tenfold, her muscles grow, her regeneration kicks into overdrive, her eyes turn bright yellow, and she gains the ability to consume meat - even raw meat - to fuel her regenerative power. This came with a strong sense of wanderlust, and in short order, led to her joining a pirate band. She spent years as an infamous pirate, a true elvish sociopath with an insatiable bloodlust, no sense of consequences, and a casual disregard for life. Even her crew knew well enough to stay away from the insane half-elf berserker with the "enchanted" (this was a bold-faced lie) equipment. As it was, the sense of isolation and pervasive fear of her made her feel more safe than happy.

Some ten years ago, her pirate ship captured a certain Sir Percival Cubbard. With the intent of her scaring him, she was assigned to be his jailor. Instead, he wove for her grand tales of his adventures and the world beyond. She's wondered, since, whether she was looking for an excuse to abandon her crew, because she was awfully fast to take Sir Percival Cubbard up on his offer to show her the sorts of things the world had to see if she helped him escape. Together, they searched for a Secret Grove, and though they never found it, they had a number of other adventures, which (between her piracy and betrayal of her pirate crew) has given her a rather bad reputation in Thungria, Stival, and certain cities in Andarth. Her reputation with the Sorcerous Plane was rocky until she established that the mage she had hunted down was "No more than a debt repaid." She unknowingly earned the gratitude of Stogorakh when, in the course of one journey there, she cut down almost fifty goblins in a blood rage when they were convinced "A puny man and a half-elf b***h can't take all of us."

Since parting ways with Sir Percy, she's wandered, worked as a mercenary, and been hired by hybrids for raids against the Khanates to free their slaves, a marginally satisfying employment which earned her another blacklisting. While she refused to say Sir Percival was her fourth friend, with his death she has realized how much he did for her and how much he meant to her - he had been, for a time, the father she had never had. She has sorrowfully told the hybrids than she must visit the funeral of her last friend, and departed for Impskis.

To say the least, Beatrix has had a troubled youth.

Items: 2 short swords, plant-growing pila (heavy javelins) with 1 available at any given time, leather armor, meat for sustaining Blood Rages.

During her quest of vengeance for her third friend, she acquired the services of a subspace warehouse she rents, within which she stores alchemical equipment and reagents, a hatchet for woodcutting, spare pila, and extra preserved meat. She accesses it through an imbued ring which activates when she makes a specific hand motion. She keeps most of her money hidden in the warehouse, with enough to afford most of what she could need on her person at any given time.  

[Dreamshell]

SirBayer:

Name: Petrov Urist

Sex: Male

Age: 56

Race: Dwarf

Appearance: Petrov stands at an average dwarven height (read: he is short), possesses a fairly typical dwarven build (read: he is broad, muscular, and burly), and maintains a regular dwarven clothing set (read: he wears clothes). His hair and beard are a lighter shade than is common in the dwarven lands, a shade that might be described as tan. His hair is generally shaved near his head, and his beard is trimmed at an inch and a half, covering a sharp jaw and underlining a large and similarly angular nose. His eyes are extremely dark, probably brown, and set fairly close; they tend to shift rapidly, giving his otherwise casual stance an omnipresent element of either discomfort or shiftiness, depending upon the viewer. (In truth his eyes shift because he is analyzing the terrain or the local equipment and structures, and generally finds them lacking.) Petrov can frequently be found wearing harnesses designed to carry his tools of trade (hammers and such, alongside drafting equipment) above hardy, thick cloth and leather tunics and pants. He can also frequently be found to roll up long sleeves, exposing rather hairy forearms and work gloves.

Personality: Petrov is soft-spoken, but he speaks often, generally in engineering metaphors. He is, as a general rule, polite, friendly, and fairly open. This is during normal conversation; when it comes to the subject of construction, design, or any of the other fields he is professional in, he grows steadily more and more excited as time goes on. There is no particular known cap to this linear progression; it is theorized that, given time, he might well combust. Fortunately, most breaks are forced upon him within a safe time frame, so he hasn’t yet given himself a heart attack. He is, when calmer, somewhat apologetic about this tendency, but proclaims it necessary to his particular brand of workmanship.

Skills: Petrov is, above all else, an engineer. He designs, he drafts, he builds, he is highly skilled at whatever is necessary to produce near anything, from concept to finished product. His skills range from the mechanical to the civil, and if it can be built (and especially if its purpose is devious), Petrov capable of building it. Petrov is secondly a warrior, as all the dwarves are trained to be. Humans do not view the art of the musket as a manly art, but Petrov has a different view - his musket is less than efficient at range without the support of others, and in close quarters his bayonet turns his rifle into an extremely subpar spear. Petrov well knows how to load quickly, bayonet a foe, or fight with the bayonet detached, and though he’s used to fighting in the tight formations and powerful comraderie of dwarven units, he can operate alone or with a more mixed party.

Background: Petrov was, from birth, taught what he was to be. Though the warrior truly held the greatest honor amongst his people, Petrov never felt it was his calling, for from the day his hands could hold them, he had been given toys of the engineer, building blocks and such. As he grew, he fell further into line with the ideal engineer, gaining enthusiasm and skill; he did not, however, learn where to stop, and rose above and beyond. In some ways this was positive; he was no prodigy, but he was an outstanding worker and quite bright in his field. On the other hand, his enthusiasm got ahead of him regularly, and this was worrisome to all. Upon receiving true assignments, it was clear why this was worrisome - Petrov’s third project, though otherwise successful, led him to overexcitement, during which he misplaced a decimal point. The resulting collapse happened early enough that no one was within the building and no one was injured, but Petrov had made a mistake, and the consequences were forthcoming. Disowned by his family and something of a byword in the dwarven lands, Petrov changed his family name to Urist (a properly generic given name) and wandered the various human nations in shame, making his way by assisting the less-experienced human engineers as a contractor.

Petrov’s big break in the human lands, however, came when a rather eccentric man by the name of Sir Percival Cubbard requested his services in the construction of a manor. The two spoke much during the construction of Cubbard’s manor, becoming friends of a sort, and introducing Petrov to the human concept that perhaps he was not a blight upon society, but rather a dwarf who made a mistake. The two parted ways eventually, with Cubbard paying Petrov enough for his services that Petrov was able to settle down near a city, form a construction company, and integrate into human society in some meaningful way. The two stayed in contact for some time via letter, which made the revelation of Cubbard’s death a touch more painful than it might otherwise have been, and Petrov unsurprisingly left the business to his apprentices for a week and rode off to his old friend’s funeral.

Items: Petrov’s tools vary given the job, but so long as he’s out of the home, he always carrieshis journal, his engineering paper, and his drafting tools (triangle, pencil, etc). He is also loath to leave behind his musket and bayonet, for which he also carries a hefty horn of powder and a bag of lead shot.

Other: Petrov rides to this funeral in his one-horse wagon, which is generally used for the delivery of finished products or raw materials to a site, and is always loaded with tools for jobs.  

[Dreamshell]

javeharron:

Name: Doctor Lucius Locke

Sex: Male

Age: 32

Race: Human (Mage)

Appearance: Locke is a tall, somewhat imposing figure, with brown hair, a tricorner hat, and a brown leather long-coat. He might appear to be a highwayman or thug if not for almost boyish looks, a set of thick spectacles, and a clean-shaven face. He often is covered in some dirt or mud from the road and wilderness. His face and hands are tanned from time in the outdoors, and he carries a wide array of tools and gear in special pockets within his great-coat.
Personality: Dr. Locke is quiet and unassuming at first glance, but once he starts talking, he rarely stops. He passionately describes various flora and fauna, facts about magic, hunting practices, and similar trivia until the person loses interest or changes the topic. When talking with others, he is highly curious and inquisitive about their hobbies. He enjoys dealing with pets and animals, and loathes cruelty to animals. If he catches someone being needlessly cruel to animals, he is liable to get angry fast.

Skills: Dr. Lucius Locke is adept at various wilderness survival and hunting procedures (tracking, skinning, trapping, other field-craft), some protective and tracking spells, anatomy and physiology of various creatures (including people), and is a trained marksman.

Background: Lucius Locke was the second son born in Andarth to a lesser noble family. His father was the game warden for the royal family, a knighted hunter who married a baron’s daughter and prevents poaching on royal lands. He was tutored and adept at conventional academic practices, but more curious about that which he could not understand as easily, such as magic, or what lay beyond the boundaries of his family estate. He would often be found wandering alone near the woods at the edge of the estate, trying to observe local wildlife. His father noticed this, and trained him in proper hunting skills, bush-craft, and marksmanship. He went hunting with his father once, but could not bring himself to kill a deer solely to mount the head on his wall.

He displayed talent in magic at a young age, and was given instruction by some of the finest instructors at the Hermetic College. He specialized in nature magic, as it was the most interesting to him. His concentration ended up being between science, alchemy, and nature magic, studying where the laws of physics were trumped by the supernatural.
Once he had finished, he became a freelance researcher, seeking to make a name for himself with new expeditions. He once tried tracking a rare breed of wolf, but was almost killed by it when he did not have time to prepare his spells. The wolf bit his leg, leaving a scar that remains to this day. During this time, his confidence in his skills as a mage was shaken.
His father heard about this incident, and grew concerned. In order to help his son get his confidence back, he had commissioned a set of customized gear for him. There was an alchemically-reinforced leather coat with enough space for his equipment and weapons. There was also a brace of customized pistols, able to fire projectiles with either black powder or air. His favorite gift, though, was a customized rifle with similar modifications and a mounted telescope. There was also a set of exotic ammunition, including non-lethal wooden bullets, silver bullets, and ones for various types of supernatural creatures. While mages typically did not carry firearms, Lucius began to fancy himself as more of a field researcher than a typical mage.

He tested his new gear in a variety of places, from finding dragon nests in Stogorakh to rooting out swamp trolls in Stival to following dire wolf migration in Thungria to tracking the illusive shadow-hound of Andarth. It was on one of these expeditions that he met a friend of his, Sir Percival Cubbard. The expedition sought to find an abandoned elvish settlement in the Deep Woods of Thungria, reported to be the only one of its kind. Cubbard and Locke began conversing about past adventures over the campfire one night, and immediately hit it off. Despite just meeting, others on the expedition would claim they seemed to have known each other for years. They ended up finding the ruined settlement, and the arcane defenses that were still active. The forest itself turned against them, but Locke and Cubbard managed to start a fire that distracted the defenses long enough for them to escape.

Afterwards, Locke became a sometime companion of Cubbard, and assisted him whenever he needed help with various supernatural creatures, magical lore, or simply needing a guide in the wilderness. Locke publishes his findings for the Hermetic College, but he prefers a day in the field to a day in the classroom anytime.

Items: An alchemically-treated leather greatcoat, tricorner hat, glasses, a notebook/spellbook, various scientific and survival gear, hunting knife, customized pistols, looking glass flintlock rifle, and ammo.

Other: He carries a brace (pair) of custom pistols and rifle able to use a flintlock mechanism or reservoir compressed air to fire a projectile. The flintlock mechanism is louder and more powerful, but the compressed gun is silent and more limited in range.  

[Dreamshell]

Konrad:

Name: Sylvia, or "The Crystal Warden"
Sex: Other
Age: 84
Race: Golem
Appearance: First and most noticeably, 'she' is comprised entirely of diamond, and according to her creator, Sylvia is the female form 'perfected.' Each curve was painstakingly calculated, and there is not a single sharp edge in spite of the myriad pieces that make her whole. She possesses every physical female feature save for the sex organs. After much debate, her designer resolved to give Sylvia a full head of blond hair that falls to her hips, and sweeping bangs. It is kept in one long braid. The golem stands just short of six feet tall.

Personality: Sylvia is timid, tending to avoid interaction with others, and never speaking a word if it can be helped. By default she is curious, always seeking understanding of everything around her, and learns quickly. Having spent most of her time learning through books, she prefers to study everything from a distance, and is apprehensive of trying anything new. Ingrained in the diamond golem is a natural distrust of men thanks to her maker's paranoia; furthermore, she is very disconcerted by any attempts to touch her. Despite having lived longer than most humans, she has only recently begun to define her personality and personal beliefs. This can be attributed to a lack of social interaction and her very nature as a golem; until recently she has always been force-fed ideas and information.

Skills: Sylvia's greatest ability is in hand-to-hand combat, with a focus on combating armed opponents. Her strength is unmatched by any human. While she would never list them as skills herself, Sylvia is also a speed-reader possessing a thus far flawless memory, capable of reading the largest dialect of each civilized race's (except Elvish) language, and is knowledgeable of a great many trade, craft, and magic theories (but lacks experience with any).

Background: Philandering mage and artisan Rialto loved very few things in life: women, magic, and fame- and in that order. Rialto claimed that not only was it possible to craft a smooth diamond with the aid of magic, but that he could recreate the human form. Unfortunately it would be impossible to craft this magnum opus from one piece of diamond and also give her life. If anything, this simply made the work all the more difficult, as then Rialto was forced to make the many pieces flow smoothly amongst each other to mimic womanhood's many curves. It was a colossal undertaking by all standards, but he succeeded, and named his success Sylvia- his favorite name for a woman- and gave to her the task of being his bodyguard. Sylvia became his most prized possession, and regularly Rialto doted on her, but never showed the compassion of a friend or lover.

Like all truly treasured gems, she was regularly on display without a single scrap of cloth to cover her. Sparring matches were arranged as exhibits for her martial prowess. She was never to be more than twenty feet from Rialto at all times. Life for the diamond golem was fairly simple: look pretty and defend Rialto and went on in this humdrum manner for many years.

In the end, it was Rialto's passion for women that did him in, catching some foul disease that slowly and painfully killed him. That was twenty-three years ago, and a time of great confusion and uncertainty for Sylvia. Unburdened with any real emotion, she was struck dumb. Her whole life had been devoted to the defense of one man, and he no longer lived. But his home still stood; his vast wealth remained; his many treasures obtained from years of exploring and trade were still held under lock and key. Sylvia eventually settled with the idea that she could defend his memory, and that perhaps by preserving what possessions were his, she could preserve also the memory of Rialto the mage.

As news spread of the wealthy mage's death, thieves, bandits, and other plundering types flocked to his manor in hopes of claiming a piece of the glory that was once Sylvia's master. Not a one ever laid a hand on Rialto's legacy, and more often than not they were slain. Still, this left many empty hours in the day, and soon Sylvia found herself suffering from desire. Desire for what she did not know. She felt only the return of Rialto could fill this void, and following that logic she attempted to bury herself in his memory via his many notebooks and diaries. Without any need for sleep, food, or comforts, she made short work of his personal logs. Still, she desired for more, but now she understood it. Sylvia wanted to learn. After spending 47 years as a trophy and a bodyguard, the golem knew nothing of the outside world. Bound by the silent vow she had made to keep Rialto's history alive- and an admittedly great fear of the outside world- Sylvia could not even process the idea of leaving. She sought knowledge through his library instead of experience wherein she learned a great deal. Unfortunately, learning the theories and methods of blacksmithing, archery, runic magic, and a great many other topics was good enough for her. The doing did not interest the golem in the slightest.

Then, one autumn day, there came a knock at the door. There had not been a knock at the front door in over eleven years. Sylvia ignored it, but it came thrice more. Seemingly fed up with the lack of reply, she heard the door creak open. Immediately, Sylvia was the Crystal Warden once more, sprinting to the entryway to defend her master's home. What she found was not a thief, bandit, or plunderer, but a scholar who claimed to be seeking her. The scholar introduced himself as one Sir Percival Cubbard, and was the most kind and polite individual she had ever met- even more compassionate and sincere with her than Rialto.

Sylvia had been designed for beauty and brawn- and luckily had brains enough to produce a coherent thought. One oversight in Rialto's design, however, was Sylvia's speech. It was weak, and difficult to understand, sounding very similar to a deaf person speak. Cubbard was understanding and patient, but always had another question. After hours of questioning, she sent away the intruder with a smile- a first. Percival returned the next day to pick up where he had left off. She refused to let him inspect her, but was more than willing to share all of her master's house with the scholar. After all, if he tried anything, she could easily snap this man in two. For the first time, the diamond golem found herself wanting to speak and share. Percival drank it all up: Rialto's history, home, and even a few adventures. For almost two weeks Percival took up residence in a guest bedroom and spent his days with Sylvia either asking about the many trinkets and trophies or listening to stories about Rialto as he had lived.

When she could tell no more, Percival made a gracious offer: "Come with me," he had said. Her immediate response was to blurt no, but to this day Sylvia regrets it. Not wanting to press the matter, Sir Percival Hubbard had left. Fast forward four years, and the Crystal Warden is becoming restless. The books all have been read twice, some of them thrice, and no longer sate her desires. Sparring with dummies had lost its ability to take her mind off the emptiness of life. She was even pondering leaving for good and finally striking out to find old Sir Cubbard when a messenger arrived and helped make the decision: Percival had perished, and asked for Sylvia to hear his dying wishes. What a strange man, she had thought, but knew she could no longer resist. Donning some of her long dead master's clothes, she struck out for Sir Percival Cubbard's manor, all at once overcome to the brim with thrills of fear and excitement. An Adventure!

Items: Two bandanas: one to cover the lower half of her face, the other to hide her forehead; tinted glasses; a dark red doublet with the emblem for a Sculptor's Guild in black; black leather trousers; knee-high leather boots; the best map money can buy; a rose emerald on a silver chain; and a squared warhammer, the haft five feet in length and the head twelve inches from face to face, four inches across, and six inches tall.

Other: Her speech is extremely difficult to comprehend, possessing an accent long dead and spoken in a manner similar to a deaf person.  

[Dreamshell]

Panusher:

Name: Lord Scarface
Sex: Male
Age: 12
Race: Reanimate
Appearance: Lord Scarface is a hulking figure of muscled, slightly green flesh. He is bulky and in the shape of a man, with long, muscled arms and legs. He stands a head taller than most men and has broad shoulders. Lord Scarface's most prominent feature is his face, which is a mass of crisscrossing scars and stitches. He his completely hairless, his eyes of different sizes of colors. Additional stitches and scars cover his body, which was composed of pieces from several different corpses. Lord Scarface typically wears a ragged pair of trousers with a frayed rope for a belt, a loose homespun vest and a long gray cloak. His teeth are also of different sizes and some of them are quite sharp. He carries a single satchel, mostly containing his books.

Personality: Lord Scarface can talk, with some difficulty. His voice is a deep gravely groan and he prefers to communicate with his actions, talking in single syllables if he can. He is a fairly placid creation with a kindly nature, and seeks only to learn about the world and gain the companionship of living things, which fascinate him. He has a childlike curiosity and naive nature, which contrast sharply with his monstrous appearance and considerable strength. There is a deep melancholy that he keeps buried within him, of being alone in the ranks of the world, though he does take solace in the company of other created beings, such as golems.

Skills: Lord Scarface was created for an unknown purpose, but it must have involved violence. Lord Scarface is extremely strong and while he is not exactly skilled in combat, he doesn't need to be. He simply smashes all opposition, using his bulk and heavy fists to his advantage. His sharp teeth also come in handy and he has a bestial and brutal way of fighting. His tough hide can absorb damage froma great many weapons. However, if he is destroyed, he can easily be repaired by anyone with a needle and thread, who can stitch him back together and return him to full operating condition, without losing memory. He can feel pain, in his own fashion. Lord Scarface is not exactly intelligent, but he is a quick study. His diet consists of whatever he can catch and kill and he can eat flesh raw without complaint, though he does enjoy cooked food.

Background: Lord Scarface's creation is widely unknown. He was found by a passing caravan in an abandoned Thungrian castle, alongside various occult artifacts and notes. He was apparently constructed by a skilled mage, who created him from the pieces of numerous bodies and animated him. Lord Scarface came to life when living beings drew near, and the caravan brought him out and used him as security, giving him his new and only name. They would pay him in simple and coarse food, various trinkets and baubles, which Lord Scarface enjoying playing with. Lord Scarface has served this caravan for all of his life, helping them battle bandits and monsters and enjoying the company of the various passengers. His masters did tell him how he was found and Lord Scarface is very curious as to who created him and what happened to them, but he is somehow content with not knowing. Occasionally, he dreams of memories from the bodies which composed it, but they are never distinct. Instead of looking into his past, which was not really his, he preferred to live his own life amongst the caravan. Lord Scarface quickly learned their languages and enjoyed hearing the stories of the other passengers. One of the passengers who he developed a particular friendship with was Sir Percival Cubbard. The two traveled together and Sir Percival taught Lord Scarface how to read, for which the hulking reanimate was extremely grateful. Since then, Lord Scarface has collected a variety of books and enjoys reading them whenever he has a chance. The masters of the caravan soon took to paying him in books, which he preferred to all other forms of payment. When he received a letter asking for friends of Sir Percival to come and help, Lord Scarface immediately decided to leave his masters. As he had served him all of his life, they readily agreed.

Items: Lord Scarface has only his satchel, full of his favorite books  

[Dreamshell]

Jokerman.EXE:

Name: Addler Ercanbald

Sex: Male

Age:
- Apparent: 19
- Actual: 80

Race: Human-become-Vampire

Appearance: Standing at an unimpressive 5'10", Addler is willowy and appears almost frail at first glance. His muscles, existent but not apparent, appear to have stopped developing when he was turned, though his actual physical strength did just the opposite. He has short black hair and is clean-shaven.
Addler's face is one of almost unbreakable sobriety, flat and difficult to read at the best of times. His stance is similarly aloof; he rarely gives any physical indication of interest in the things around him. Due to his youthful appearance, he is constantly making remarks that would not make sense coming from a man of his apparent age, but rather from someone more well-traveled - and typically more cynical, as well.

Personality: Addler Ercanbald was once a loud, earnest, jovial youth. It is almost comical to compare this to his present state: aloof to the point of being spacey, disinterested and detached from most things going on, and pragmatic with no regard for the consequences in terms of morals. Despite this - or perhaps as a result - Addler plays by whatever rules are presented to him, preferring to simply overcome the challenge presented by doing so rather than hassle with breaking the rules. He is not a law-abiding citizen, but he IS lawful. He just...doesn't care much for the people or things around him, if it means getting his job done faster or better.

Skills: First and foremost, Addler is a trained assassin. His primary skill, activity, and profession is killing. He can pick locks, climb, hide and tumble with relative ease. He has an extensive knowledge of the physiology of humans and goblinoids, and about as much knowledge as anyone has when it comes to fighting elves; his latest endeavor has been to increase his knowledge of the minotaurs to make it easier to kill them as well. Addler has a basic (if well-used) understanding of physical combat. He has never been formally trained and so is rather crude, but his superior strength and growing experience are rapidly pushing him up the learning curve.
Beyond his profession, Addler has some knowledge of wilderness survival, sailing, and, surprisingly, cooking.

Background: The young Ercanbald was the son of a farmer, growing up in the Volksreich of Thungria. His adolescence was spent in relative peace, due to sheer luck keeping their homestead unmolested by bandits or other major threats. Though they dealt with the occasional predatory animal, Addler was kept dangerously and unfortunately naive.

One night during his 19th year, however, everything changed. Walking alone along the path outside of his father's farm, Addler came across a traveler who was laying beside the road, on the verge of death. Being the man he was, Addler rushed to help. To make a long and predictable story short, Addler was attacked and turned into a vampire. Thirst slaked, the vampire who had accosted him was kind enough to bury him and leave everything he needed when he awoke. Addler emerged from the ground to find a letter and a jar: "Dear Sir: You have my thanks for your gift of blood. Use this jar to gather some dirt from around you; as a vampire, to not do so will result in the loss of your mind, as you may or may not know. Happy hunting! Nearly five days after he had disappeared, Addler stumbled home, where he was found by his brother.

The two got into a heated argument; their father had left home to find Addler, and had not returned. The two feared the worst, but Addler's brother blamed the poor boy and soon they found themselves fighting. Unaware of his new strength, Addler threw his brother into a wall, breaking his arm and knocking him unconscious. Terrified that he had killed his own brother, Addler fled into the woods of the Volksreich, a territory that was dangerous even to the experienced, and lived like a wild animal. For a year, he survived by doing whatever was necessary: fighting for food against dangerous animals, shedding close to all trappings of civilization and human culture in the process. He drank the blood of any woodland creature that he could capture, always able to put the thirst from his mind but never able to completely satisfy it.

At the end of a year, his path was made to cross that of a group of bandits on the run from Thungrian authority. Like Addler, they had fled into the woods, but they were without supplies or the knowledge of how to live off the land. On their first night in the trees, the young vampire attacked them, pulling one into the darkness and drinking his blood. This first taste of human blood gave Addler his first experience with the true powers conferred on him due to his vampirism: the world, even at night, was crystal clear to his eyes and ears, and he felt strength flowing through his limbs that he had not possessed before. The bandits, realizing they were missing a member, found the vampire, and after a drawn-out fight subdued him. They captured Addler, who was given limited freedom to gather food and supplies for them. When a month had passed and the bandits deemed it safe to leave the trees, they brought the young vampire with them. He traveled silently with their group, steadily gaining the talents of their trade and small parts of culture along the way. Still, he aged far slower than his companions, and within a couple of decades they had either all fallen or had left their trade behind. Addler joined a guild as an independent assassin, taking missions and getting paid with as little interaction as possible.

As the years passed, Addler began to explore his powers on his own, in a crude trial and error system. He could survive on animal blood, but drinking human blood allowed him to gain incredible strength, speed, stamina, and healing ability. He made a decision one night: that he would operate on animal blood as often as possible, allowing his mostly-human abilities to remain standard, and would only partake in human blood when it was necessary for survival or to complete a mission. He has contacts in most major cities (people he has met through his guild work) that allow him to drink small portions of their blood when necessary, in exchange for his support and a large sum of gold.

His journeys brought him across one Percival Cubbard, Sir, who stood in his path one damp night in the city of Stival. Addler was on assignment to eliminate a famous explorer-scientist in the name of a rival company when Sir Cubbard intervened, with the intention of recruiting Addler's target. Sir Cubbard was still a young man, in his prime, and managed to battle Addler to a standstill, which in turn allowed his target to escape. Realizing that he had been brought to failure by Sir Cubbard, Addler had no choice but to withdraw - but not before vowing to Sir Cubbard that he would be coming after him next. Over the next ten years, Cubbard and Ercanbald clashed three more times; each won a match but could not finish the other, and the final match was yet another draw. The two developed a respect for each other and would occasionally exchange letters in their travels.

Now, Addler heads for Impskis to pay his final respects to his old friend, having not seen him in many years.

Items: Addler carries with him a lockpicking kit, a basic first aid kit, and a pair of long (20-inch) knives, with which he is rather skilled. He also carries a small number of throwing knives.

Other: As a vampire, Addler has necessarily become adept at avoiding the light whenever possible and operating in the night. He has also developed the somewhat obsessive tendency of shining his weapons whenever he notices a blemish of any kind on them. He has been known to pull them out for this purpose at the wrong times, and finds himself in some interesting situations as a result.  

[Dreamshell]

Arthuritis592:

Name: Godric Galen Ignatius
Sex: Male
Age: Twenty Eight
Race: Human (Shapeshifter)
Nationality: Deep forest between Thungria and Khanates
Appearance: In human form, Godric stands at 6'3" tall with broad shoulders and a very muscular frame. He has black tattoos across his chest and back. Their patterns are difficult for eyes unaided by magic to completely comprehend but in general, they make a twisting looping pattern in an unbroken chain. His clothes (when he's wearing any) are loose and very, very cheap since he ends up losing them so often. He has shaggy deep brown hair that generally falls into his eyes, one of which is electric blue and the other is dark green. He has medium straight eyebrows that taper at the ends, full bow lips and a perfect smile with not so perfect lightly stained teeth. Godric always wears two leather sheathes that are just a leather strap over each shoulder that cross in an X pattern on his chest. Each sheath holds one of his ornate bone knives.

Wolf form, (see Wolf on google)
Ocelot form, (see Ocelot on google)
These two forms are the ones Godric is most comfortable with and he is able to shift into them will less physical strain than other animals. When Godric changes form, his tattoos change into a white pattern on the fur of the animal he is changing into.

Personality: As a multishifter, Godric loses more of his humanity than other shapeshifters and he's also much more prone to animalistic tangents. He may forget which form he is in and attempt to communicate incorrectly and he is rather blind to social queues, norms, and taboos. He doesn’t have a sense of humor, and most jokes or anecdotes will go right over his head. He does not understand the concept of lying, and takes most of what others say as being truthful. You do not want to be around when he finds out otherwise. His seriousness is rather draining to those around him but when he needs to be depended on; he will follow through, as long as he views you as a friend. That said, his morality is stretched thin at best; he does not understand right and wrong in the same sense as other humans. To him, anything that hurts a close friend--no matter the circumstances--is wrong while a stranger in peril is none of his concern. He has not had much contact with races outside the confines of his forest, but he has an extreme dislike of the elvish. It irks him that they consider themselves of the Forest yet stake and guard land like outsiders. Conversely, the hybrid races have always been allies of the shapeshifters and are more likely to be seen in a shapeshifter village than humans.

Skills: Most shapeshifters have a rudimentary knowledge of knife play and Godric has mastered the art of the duel knife fighting style also known as the Dance of the Autumn Leaves. This style maximizes sheer attack speed, making as many cuts in a short amount of time as possible and is good for one on one battling but is weaker against groups of combatants. Godric is an excellent tracker and hunter with his heightened senses. He also can detect all poisons either through smell or taste instantly. He is fairly knowledgeable in the medical and culinary uses of most plants, herbs, and spices, especially those of the forest. From his mother’s side, he was given the Will of the Goddess (the patron saint of nature itself that all shapeshifters worship), a healing magic that has not been seen in a shapeshifter for many generations. While he cannot actively control the ability, if someone in Godric’s pack is threatened, the 'Goddess' (as his people view it, it is really just the channeling of a healing spirit that is bonded to the user at birth) may take over his body and help them with her healing light. His father trained him in the art called the Voice of the Father which is merely the ability to regulate his pheromones. When he uses this ability, it calms animals within a certain radius and unless provoked, most predators will not attack.

Background: Instead of marrying another shapeshifter as is tradition, Godric's father decided to marry a cleric woman from Thungria. Godric was born not much longer after their marriage. He was born a month early and was very small as a baby. He was teased by other families children for his size later in his life, but he quickly overcame his brethren and was the first child to turn into their animal form at the age of eleven. It was two years past this milestone that Sir Percival Cubbard first came to their hidden village. In the months that Sir Percival decided to stay, he demonstrated a keen interest in Godric. When asked about it, he only stated that there was more to come from the shapeshifter youth. Indeed, a month afterward, Godric turned to another animal. Sir Percival was ecstatic and left soon after. He was not heard from again until the summons for Godric came fifteen years later. He is grown now, but still remembers the man who had been so kind to him as a child. He heads now for Sir Cubbard’s hometown and final resting place unsure of what he is to face, but excited for the chance to leave the confines of the forest he grew up within.

Items: Two ornate bone knives, two leather strap sheaths, a simple pack for carrying medical and culinary supplies, cheap loose-fitting clothing, basic survival kit (flint, timber, pan, some basic protection runes, bandages, etc.)  

[Dreamshell]

ZiggZugg:

Name: Tyndareus of the Chalkeus Tribe
Sex: Male
Age: 22
Race: Minotaur

Appearance: Even among minotaurs, Tyndareus is impressively muscular, owing his powerful upper body to the rigors of his blacksmith trade. Scars riddle his back and arms, a souvenir of his slavehood to orcs. Most notably, Tyndareus’ legs are amputated near where his thigh bone connects to his waist. To allow himself some mobility, Tyndareus wears a specialized contraption that he calls his Chariot Greaves, which are customized armor sections that attach wheels to his lower body. Strapped to his back and partially connected to his Chariot Greaves is a small ballista, which Tyndareus can set up to fire over his shoulder. Tyndareus also wears a pair of massive gauntlets customized to protect his knuckles as he knuckle-walks around, which also double as powerful enhancements to his already devastating punches.

Personality: Tyndareus is a quiet individual, and often does not engage in conversation unless spoken to. When he does speak, it is often terse, and generally quite blunt. Though he is no socialite, Tyndareus quickly perks up at the first mention of smithing, machinery designs, and architecture, and can speak on these subjects seemingly without end.

Skills: Tyndareus is an accomplished blacksmith and warrior, neither of which the loss of his legs could take from him. Tyndareus is skilled at crafting and repairing tools, weapons, and armor of all kinds, and is no stranger to the designs of siege weaponry. In combat, Tyndareus is incapable of agile movement, and thus relies on the use of chains and other implements to restrain his opponents, so that he can crush them with his massive gauntlets. In the event of a ranged confrontation, Tyndareus can set up to fire his back-mounted ballista.

Background: The Chalkeus Minotaur Tribe lived on a small island not far off the peninsula of the Orc Khanate. Due to the relative scarcity of resources on the island, the Chalkeus Tribe did not experience orcish raids as frequently as those tribes living on the turbulent mainland; although the threat of Goblinoid attacks always loomed just over the horizon, the Chalkeus enjoyed mildly lengthened periods of recuperation. With great effort, the Chalkeus Minotaurs managed to eke out a living through the use of carefully planned terrace farming.

Tyndareus was born the son of a blacksmith. His father held some prominence in the tribe as the creator of weaponized farming implements, which the farmers valued for the simultaneous defense and cultivation of their lands. Tyndareus took to the anvil as soon as he could hold a hammer, and quickly learned everything there was to know about his father’s craft. The young minotaur mastered his trade at the age of 12 and worked alongside his father until the untimely death of his father during an orcish raid a year later. Tyndareus took over as a blacksmith of the tribe, working hard to arm his tribesmen with tools they trusted to plow through dirt and the skulls of orcs. Tyndareus became well known among his tribesman as an avid modifier of tools, attempting new designs of all sorts without discouragement of failure.

Unfortunately, the orcish raiders eventually realized that the island of the Chalkeus Minotaurs did have a resource they could extract: the labor of the minotaurs themselves. A particularly successful raid on the tribe ended with the capture of several minotaur, including Tyndareus. At the age of 15, Tyndareus was enslaved by orcs and put to work as a beast of burden. Three years of toiling in the mud slowly passed by, until the minotaur slaves were able to organize a jailbreak attempt. A bloody debacle followed, and in order to salvage the situation, Tyndareus took it upon himself to delay the orcish slavers so that a few minotaurs could escape. Though he was successful in seeing a few slaves to freedom, Tyndareus was recaptured.

The orc slavers, in order to make an example, crushed Tyndareus’ legs into a bloodied, mangled mess and then strapped him up on a wall for the buzzards to feast upon. Tyndareus would have died then, had it not been for a certain Sir Percival Cubbard and the free Minotaurs of Minos. The few slaves that escaped from the camp managed to find their way to Minos and enlist the aid of their warriors, as well as the help of Sir Percy, who at the time was adventuring through the Orc Khanate. The slave camp was soon liberated and Tyndareus brought back from the brink of death.

Tyndareus made a swift recovery in the Free Island of Minos, though the state of his legs required their amputation. Despite the loss of legs, or perhaps due to it, Tyndareus soon returned to blacksmithing with great vigor, an act that was not unnoticed by Sir Percy. Impressed by the tales of Tyndareus’ selfless sacrifice during the jailbreak and his eager devotion to his craft, Sir Percy gave the young minotaur his suit of armor, stating that he, Sir Percy, was beyond his heyday for open battle. Tyndareus, with great reverence to the man that saved him, politely declined, reasoning that without legs, Tyndareus would not be able to use the armor anyway. However, Sir Percy would have none of that, and insisted that Tyndareus take the armor, and that if it could not work for him in his current state, then Tyndareus should modify it to his needs, just as the minotaur and his father before him had done to the farming implements they forged. Tyndareus took the words to heart, took the armor to the anvil, and took to new ideas. Several failed prototype prostheses later, Tyndareus settled on a simpler design, taking some inspiration from siege weapons that had found their way into the Minos armory. Once again mobile, Tyndareus joined the Minos militia, lending hammer and fist to the cause of the free minotaurs.

Four years later, news reach Tyndareus that his benefactor, Sir Percy, had passed on. Owing the knight his life and liveliness, Tyndareus sets off to pay his last respects.

Items: Hammer, tongs, bellows, flint and steel, 12 feet of iron chains, Chariot Greaves, small ballista, 10 ballista bolts, customized steel gauntlets, 6 iron bars  

[Dreamshell]

NativeForeigner:

Name: Victoria Isabela Colburn, Viscountess Ashwood of Hearthstone

Sex: Female

Age:
-Apparent: 5 or 6
-Actual: She lost count somewhere around 250.

Race: Human Vampire

Appearance: Victoria's appearance is that of a typical little girl, soft features, smooth skin (though with the iconic paleness of a vampire), large eyes, and an exceptional cuteness.

She stands at an exceedingly average height of 3' 6" and is slender, weighing roughly 34 pounds. She has straight, light brown hair that reaches the top of her shoulders and grey green eyes that desperately hold on to the last shreds of her childhood innocence.

She usually wears a simple burgundy velvet dress with short sleeves and a black band around the waist. On her feet she wears short white socks and black shoes with little black bows on the toes. Around her neck she wears a fairly large silver locket that she usually keeps tucked in her dress, it contains an illustration of her and her deceased parents. Alongside the locket she wears a small silver vial that is melted shut and contains an ounce of her burial soil.

She is always carrying her burlap teddy bear, Barney.

Personality: Despite what Victoria’s been through, she's still technically just a little girl who misses her mommy and daddy and needs comforting every once in a while.

Usually, she is rather shy and withdrawn, but still very curious and sometimes stubborn. However, when she gets to be more comfortable and warms up to those around her, she can either get to be quite talkative if there's something to talk about or very inquisitive if she's more intent on listening and learning. When she does speak, it's apparent that she is certainly wise, and sometimes weary, beyond her years. Occasionally there are periods where she become especially withdrawn, often seeking the comfort of someone she's grown close to when it happens. She also seems to have a loose sense of morality (200+ years of oppression can do that to somebody) and has no problems with feeding on somebody or stealing. However, she refuses to break her promise to Cubby and thus won't kill someone unjustly and will never turn anyone. She doesn't smile often, but when she does sincerely, it lights up the room.

Victoria’s innocent nature lets her see people for who they are, not what they are (with the exception of other vampires), ignoring looks and race when judging somebody. Also, because her mind never fully developed, she often has a difficult time grasping sarcasm.

Skills: Victoria has a small set of skills; she is adept with her hands from her time on the streets and quite knowledgeable and wise, having spent most of her time reading or learning from experience. She is able to defend herself well enough, knowing where to put the knife to make it hurt and the very basics of combat, but due to her size conventional combat is often avoided, despite her superior speed and strength. She also knows how to use her appearance to her advantage and is a rather quick learner.

She also has full use of a castle. That's a skill, right?

Background (the condensed version): Victoria was born to a farming family and lived happily, though poorly. On her fifth birthday, her parents had a camera obcura illustration done of the three of them and bought her a locket to put it in. Her father also made her a burlap teddy bear that she named Barney, and she treasured both items immensely. Between her fifth and sixth birthday a vampire broke into the farm, killed her father, kidnapped her and her mother, and burned the farm to the ground. That same night, the vampire turned Victoria.

Victoria awoke later in a shallow grave. Once she began to panic and try to dig her way out, a man helped her out of the dirt. He was slender and wore fine, dark clothing. He was extremely pale, had slick, dark hair, blue eyes, and a thin face with a pointed chin. The only jewelry he wore was a large ring of dark glass on his right hand. He introduced himself as Vyncent Colburn, Count Ashwood of Hearthstone. He handed her five silver vials and instructed her to fill them with soil.

Victoria, confused, began to break down, and reached for her locket for some sort of comfort only to realize that it was missing. As a result, be broke down into tears. It took a few minutes for her to calm down enough for Vyncent to get her to fill the vials. He sealed them and told her to keep one on her person at all times.

Vyncent then broke the girl completely, by forcing her to feed upon her still-living mother. Completely broken, Vyncent returned to the still-sobbing Victoria Barney - her stuffed bear - as a show of good faith, and then proceeded to manipulate her into believing that she was his daughter. Too broken to have any sort of will left, and only having Barney and this man left in her world, she forgot about her past life and lived the next 200 or so years as Vyncent’s daughter, becoming Victoria Isabela Colburn, Viscountess Ashwood of Hearthstone. The years were long and cold for Victoria and she was only ever permitted to leave the castle to travel with Vyncent through town every few nights or when he went to perform his duties at the capitol. She almost never saw sunlight.

Eventually, out of childhood curiosity that she never grew out of, Victoria stumbled upon Vyncent’s study, the one she was forbidden to enter, and came upon a curious silver locket. However, before she could further inspect the locket, Vyncent caught her and scolded her, taking the locket away and mumbling that he had to get rid of the locket now. The locket hadn't left Victoria's mind, but she believed that she would never get to find out why it was so peculiar.

Several days later, an adventurer, who would later be known as “Cubby” to Victoria, came to Ashwood, drawn there by rumors that the sizable abandoned coal mines that covered the area were host to secret passages leading to untold treasures and hidden tombs of powerful mages. To make a long story short, Cubbard found the locket in one of these secret passages; asked around and learned of old tales where a mother and her daughter went missing the same night that the family's barn was burned to the ground; met an older half-elf that claimed to have known the family and confirmed the tale, stating that it happened over two centuries ago; saw Victoria in town with Count Ashwood; then recognized her as the girl in the locket and made the connection.

The next day, Cubbard hired a professional thief to return the locket to Victoria, reminding her of her lost life and causing her to realize the lie she had been living. The same day, Cubbard helped Victoria escape through a chute that Vyncent used to dispose of bodies and together they made their way to the capitol. Along the way, Victoria convinced Cubbard to let her call him “Cubby”, and they got to know each other. Cubbard shared stories of his adventures and Victoria, once she was comfortable enough, shared what she could about her story. Also along the way, the two got into a few adventures, during which Victoria proved herself quite capable and knowledgeable, despite looking and usually acting like a little girl.

By the time they had reached the capitol, Victoria had come to see Cubbard in a fatherly way, despite technically being much older, but understood that it would be best to part ways. So, she convinced Cubbard to leave her at the capitol, reminding him that she was older than he was and capable of taking care of herself. He agreed on the condition that she promised to never kill unjustly and to never turn anyone. She agreed without hesitation, thanked him again, and offered him one of her silver vials to remember her by. He accepted with a smile and left her with a small sum of money at the orphanage.

So, for the next few decades, Victoria alternated between living in orphanages, on the streets, or with a temporary family. Feeding secretly when she had to but never bringing harm to those she fed on, and making her way to the next town when it became necessary to avoid suspicion.

Eventually, when with a family in a town near Hearthstone, the family was killed and she was abducted by four men and a female vampire mercenary, but not before she managed to rip one of the men's throats out. These people bound her and returned her to Vyncent’s castle to be his daughter once more. However, Victoria was no longer under the influence of his lie, and she was much more clever than he had been decades ago. So, she enacted a plan: to play the role of daughter better than ever before only to secretly find and dispose of the stashes of his burial soil that Vyncent had hidden around the castle. When the time came, she disposed of the final source of his soil, his ring. Having lost his ring and unable to find any of his caches, Vyncent gradually began to go mad.

Over the course of the next several weeks, Vyncent rarely stopped looking for his ring. Victoria got bolder with each passing day as Vyncent lost more and more of his will. By the time Vyncent fully realized what was happening, it was too late and he was already begging Victoria to let him be her Beholden.

Overjoyed at the wonderful display of Karma, she accepted, and has taken advantage of the situation ever since, she has lived in his home, simply using Vyncent as a doormat father to suit her needs.

Recently, she received a letter informing her of Cubby's unfortunate passing. Saddened by the news, she had Vyncent arrange transportation to the funeral immediately. It's the least she could do for the man that had rescued her.

Items: Barney, locket, small knife, extra vial of soil, small sack, Vyncent Colburn, Count Ashwood of Hearthstone.

Other: Victoria is fearful of most other vampires. As far as she's concerned, they're all just scary monsters that ruined her life, and no vampire has ever proved to be different.

Victoria is also rather fond of silver and very attached to Barney and her locket. At times, she almost seems paranoid about losing either one, especially her locket. She often counts the items on her to see if she has everything.

Victoria is constantly seeking the comfort of some parental figure, usually one that she knows she won't lose any time soon.

She is terrified of losing those she cares about, and as a result, is cautious about connecting with anyone she might lose.

Victoria can't remember much of her life before becoming a vampire, even her real last name or the names of her parents, but occasionally she remembers something new that just makes her miss it even more.  

[Dreamshell]

Isa-sama:

Name: Amelia Devlin

Sex: Female

Age: 26

Race: Human

Appearance: She is a fair-skinned brunette with long wavy hair held in a high ponytail. She might look like a small girl, but she’s actually quite fit and knows how to handle herself when it comes to trouble. Her hazel eyes might be her most startling feature, but it is her boisterous laugh and easy going smile that catches people’s attention. Her brown leather jacket hides the shoulder holster she has for her pistol but does nothing to hide the sword tied at her waist. Her heavy leather boots complete her ensemble and hide a small knife on the inside of her left boot.

Personality: Amelia has a cheerful deposition to the point that some people would be annoyed. She’s very adventurous and curious, which might also make her a bit reckless. When it comes to people, she can be friendly and easy going. If one could gain her trust, she’d be willing to follow them to the ends of the earth for the sake of helping them. Although she does like to give people the benefit of the doubt, she’s not completely naïve and will protect herself from people who give her reason to doubt.

Skills: She is very skilled with her small sword and has used it often in a fight when she can’t use her gun. Surprisingly, her sword isn’t hollow and she chose to keep the edges of her sword sharp rather than focus on keeping the tip sharp. The extra speed she gave up was worth the strength of her sword. She’s ambidextrous, but is better with her right hand when dealing with her sword.

She also has a six barrel revolver that she’s decent at. She can’t deliver constant headshots with it, but she’s never needed to do that anyway. Being able to dual wield a sword in one hand and a gun in the other also has a few advantages. Like her sword, she has practiced shooting with both hands and is evenly skilled in both.

Background: Amelia has no father. For the longest time, all she knew about the man was that he was still alive somewhere that wasn’t with her mother and her. While that used to make Amelia sad, she absolutely loves her mother and appreciates everything her mother went through as a single parent. Her mother, Katherine Devlin, is a headstrong, fiery woman who isn’t afraid to voice her opinions. The two women have had their issues with each other, but they have a very strong bond (if occasionally covered up by worry and snark).

Amelia might have inherited much of her mother’s looks, but the personality was very much from her father. Her adventurous streak started out with wanting to go out into the world to find her father, but Amelia soon appreciated the world for what it was and not for the ultimate search for her missing parent.

The two lived in a trading port called Maremouth-on-Sea on the northwestern coast of Andarth, and they prospered quite well. The Devlin family (started by Amelia’s grandparents) holds a chartering business called Devlin Shipping that provided the mother and daughter with a comfortable, stable living. They even had a crew available if someone needed to hire one with one of their ships.

It was actually through the crew that Amelia learned to start fighting. No one had really wanted to teach her, but she managed to charm them into giving her lessons every once in a while. In time, Amelia caught the attention of a local nobleman who noticed her talents and offered to have her officially trained. The only reason why her mother even agreed (and privately had a screaming match with her daughter over the stupidity of learning how to fight) was because Katherine thought that keeping the nobleman’s patronage would ensure future business (and she was right about that).

Amelia learned to properly fight through the nobleman’s training. She got good enough to become hired muscle through the shipping business. It was a long fight with her mother, but it eventually worked out for them both. Amelia finally got to go explore the world, and her mother got extra business (and money for her daughter’s work).

The biggest secret Katherine has kept from everyone was in regards to Amelia’s father. His name was Sir Percival Cubbard. It had been a good relationship while it lasted, but she never saw fatherhood potential in him. They parted on amiable terms, and when she found out she was pregnant, she mailed a letter to him right away. He never mailed her back or saw her, so she assumed that he wanted nothing to do with their child. For everyone’s sake, she never spoke about his role in her pregnancy and learned to take care of a child on her own. The only reason why Amelia found out her father’s identity was because her mother received a letter about Cubbard’s death and her invitation to his funeral. Amelia begged and went to the funeral in her mother’s place.

Items: Amelia has her sword and her revolver. She also has a cloth arm brace that goes from her wrist to mid-forearm. The surprisingly sturdy arm brace is made of lots of brightly colored threads – red, blue white, green, orange, and even a hint of yellow - in an intricate pattern.

Other: A few months prior to her father’s funeral, Amelia came across a ransacked shipment someone – perhaps thieves or some greedy crewman – had gotten into containing a strange arm brace. Supposedly it had come from the New World across the ocean, and she wanted to have a closer look at it.

As soon as she touched it, she blacked out. Strange fleeting images flitted by in her head and strong, desperate emotions started to fill her. When Amelia woke up, she found that the arm brace was on her arm and she was on the other side of Maremouth.

Amelia looked for the scholar that found the brace and asked about it. It was definitely not an ordinary cloth brace, and she had to find out what she could. The man told her that it was a piece of a royal guard’s armor from a village that he had visited. The superstitious villagers hadn’t wanted to give him the armor, so he dropped the subject. He didn’t know how or when, but someone (or some group) must have stolen the armor without his knowledge and tried to keep it a secret. Whoever had stolen the armor must have been in a hurry since they had left behind the arm brace. He had no way of knowing who stole it, and the theft of the armor frustrated him.

After some negotiation, Amelia managed to convince the scholar into letting her keep the brace. The scholar wanted to wash his hands of the mess and didn’t mind letting her have it so long as she never mentioned his name. Combining Amelia's blackout and the information he'd learned from the villagers, the scholar thought she could use the brace to find the rest of the missing armor.

At first, she gave the item little mind, but she soon felt very uncomfortable when it wasn’t on her or within reach. Amelia felt it was just easier to just wear it constantly. Another strange thing that occurred was that her normal restlessness seemed to be getting stronger. It even worried her mother how much Amelia wanted to get out of Maremouth.

It worried Amelia too. She just wanted to head towards the east – her father’s funeral was in that direction. If Amelia’s begging to go to the funeral had a little to do with her strange urge to head east...well, she wasn’t sure what it meant, but it likely wasn’t anything good.  

[Dreamshell]

SiberDrac:

Name: Pan Pulcher "Puck the Pied Piper" Picus

Sex: Male

Age: 11

Race: Faun

Appearance: Goatish. As implied by his name, Puck is pied, hair untamed. He wears wide, dirty, cloth breeches over the thick thighs of his capricious kind and the fur it hides is mixed chestnut and creamy white. He wears a loose-fitting, wrinkled, drab shirt over a chest furred on his flanks and breast, but less so on his belly. The fur extends all the way around to his back and also covers his shoulders and biceps, becoming thinner and shorter as it nears his hands, the backs of which have surprisingly soft, delicate peach fuzz. He stands 5'3", small and lithe, and wears a symmetrical goatee, since he nears his prime. It extends from thick, short-haired mutton chops, brown on the left side and white on the opposite. His eyes are deceivingly simple and brown, set close together in an elfin face, and his horns curl just shy of four inches high. His ears are large, and pointed like elves', and his short puff of a tail pokes out from a hole under his belt.

Personality: Puck is as his name implies, though more, as well. He displays a brash, carefree playfulness and friendliness that border on obnoxious and now and then cross the line into machismo. Underneath it, he's generally helpful towards others, though his primary concern is himself and ultimately, the resurgence of his race's pride. Having been raised in a grungy place, he unfortunately picked up one habit from dogs he has never been fully able to subdue - his tail wags when he gets extremely excited. He has roughly the maturity of a human twenty-year-old. His greatest downfall is his greatest characteristic - he is excitable, in every manner of the word. He will move off to steal if something looks enticing, he makes great efforts to woo men and women of any species, and he's not particularly bright, because he has no interest in sitting down to study. It's only by Cubbard's demand that he knows how to read at all.

Skills: Thief! He steals… anything. Primarily a pickpocket, Puck plunders most purses with a proficiency and pride that he parades among his pack of preteen pilferers. He also knows a variety of simple cantrips - basic, short-lived illusions for most of the senses, creating a small spark, brief levitation, etc.

He is also a juggler and acrobat, and knows a little bit about brawling, though his gracile frame precludes precociousness in that area. His fighting prowess is in a certain dance-like martial art (similar to capoeira) that was originally developed to look like a form of cultural expression, and in fact be a surprising, feinting fighting style. He has incorporated knives into it, as a part of his juggling and cutpurse-ing.

Finally, using the natural charm and charisma of the fauns, he keeps a small band of animals around him at all times, including a magpie, a rat, and a small dog, who aid him in his thievery and share in his profitable plucking. Also he is a novice woodcarver.

Background: Born into the subjugation of the hybrids by the orcs in the Khanates, Puck has lived in hatred of them for his entire life. Thin and wiry, he cannot challenge them directly, and so steals what he can. His parents never meant terribly much to him, especially when they failed to even question the goblins that stole him the one time he did try to take on one of their kind, at age five. Based on his build and the propensity towards magic he had shown once to an uncle - this ability ratted out by his cowering parents at the time of his kidnapping - Puck was enslaved as a jester for a solid year, mocked, beaten, and abused for a solid year of performing in paints that emphasized his piebald patterns.

When Cubbard arrived for the Minosian uprising, Puck charmed his favored magpie into picking the lock on his leg irons and, before he could be captured again, pecking out the eyes of his pursuers. Cubbard intercepted the boy as he was running - Puck no longer remembers quite when, or how, this happened - and seeing his plight, put him in the knight's own employ, allowing him to act as page for his pavilion until he had recovered - indeed, the pluckish lad that once perched precariously on palisades had puled meekly after his stay with the hordes.

During that time, he was a pupil to one of the mages in Cubbard's entourage, briefly, to learn his letters and the one spell that would most progress his pickpocketing practice - the ability to open a portal to the Sorcerous Plane, to stash his treasures.

Now, though, he has been playing the pipe and peddling others' "misplaced" possessions for several years and finally, one day, was proffered a letter to peruse from his late patron and protector, Sir Cubbard. It pleased him to assent, so off he went.

Items: Three throwing knives, a carving knife, an ornate dagger five juggling balls, two handkerchiefs, six pyrite coins, a leather sling, two shirts, one pair of pants, a rucksack of sorts, a wooden flute, a silver ring, six corked bottles of assorted ointments and perfumes, a war hammer (that he can't lift), a sack full of brightly colored glass, an assortment of hats, and a charming demeanor.

Other: Puck is probably well known to those who once enslaved him, and may be a "red flagged" individual in a number of places, recognizable by his fur. Similarly, because he is generous to his own kind, he may be "blue flagged" elsewhere, though that is less likely, because he's kind of selfish.